#Stereo I Want it On (Audio) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rrrrinmaru · 3 months

Text

bury me (raf x mc, nsfw)

wc: 3949 rating: E warning: pussy eating, strip tease

Up until the moment you’re sat in the entertainment room that’s apparently been renovated on emergency notice, you don’t quite believe the situation you’ve found yourself in.

It started as an off-handed comment you didn’t think much of. Frankly, you didn’t think anything of it—the two of you were watching a movie (ok, Magic Mike, it was Magic Mike) and you mentioned, casual as ever, that you’ve always wanted to see a lap dance up close.

Rafayel went still. But Rafayel goes still at the strangest things—he once froze up at the sight of you petting a cat on the sidewalk and fell to the ground right next to the fire hydrant, in broad view of everyone walking down that very pavement—so again, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he wanted to see a lap dance up close as well. Maybe, irrationally, he got a little jealous at the thought of you thinking of watching other men grind against flushed women, eyes bright as they watch the sheen of sweat on thick muscles centimetres away from their face.

You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect—

“You spent how much on the lights?” You ask, bewildered. “You got these custom made?”

“I wasn’t about to install cheap LED lights in my house,” Rafayel replies, fiddling with something in the corner. “The cost doesn’t matter. The real expensive baby was the audio system, but I already owned that before I got the bright idea to remodel this place.”

“You spent money to turn a room in your house into a strip club?” You say, voice slightly hysterical on the last two words. You almost don’t want to know the answer to your next question, but things have already progressed far enough. There’s no coming back from this. “Where’s the stripping pole?”

Rafayel shrugs. He’s wearing this thin, sheer fabric; so pale it’s almost transparent. It clings to the width of his shoulders, dipping down between the slope of his shoulder blades and the top tapers off at his waist. When he turns around, you can’t help but stare at the (quite frankly) whorish cut at the front.

The front of the shirt has this deep plunge all the way down to his abdomen. It’s practically two strips of fabric loosely folded over each other, and if he bends over, you get a full view of the hard planes of his chest and the curve of his tits.

He’s also wearing leather pants. Did you mention that? They look like they were painted on. The material stretches tight over his thighs, making him look even taller than he already does.

His feet are bare, toes curling into the rug covered floor. Rafayel stands there, weight shifted to one leg as he always does, and he practically preens under your undivided attention. Under your greedy, hungry gaze as you run your eyes up and down his body.

Behind him, the stereo system flares to life. This persistent, thumping drum beat slowly starts to build.

“Can’t we just—you know?” You say without thinking, leaning forward instinctively at the thought of getting your mouth on Rafayel. Has he even looked in a mirror before he decided on this particular set of clothes?

Rafayel smirks. Fuck, you swear you can see the literal imprint of his cock through his pants.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, voice honeyed as he takes his sweet time to walk over to you, that casual, loping stride that you can’t look away from. “Be patient.”

“This is the first time you’ve turned down my offer,” you say petulantly. “Please?”

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Rafayel says, eyes glittering as he leans over. His hands land on the back of the curved sofa you’re seated on—they frame you like a solid wall of muscle, caging you in his embrace. His legs are on either side of your thighs, close enough that you swear you can feel the kiss of leather against your skin, the sheer heat radiating off his body.

The beat is loud, now. It’s loud enough that it sounds like you’re at a club; it sinks through your chest, filling your body up like a balloon as it seizes your senses. Your heart pulses in time with the heavy, throbbing bass—you stare up, eyes wide as all you hear is the sound of your heart and all you see is Rafayel’s eyes.

You could drown in that gaze. You know you could.

“No touching,” Rafayel breathes out. When he bends over, cheek barely milimetres away from your own, your breath hitches at the view down his shirt. “First rule of the club, Miss. No touching the performers.”

“Raf,” you whine, fingers curling desperately into fists by your side as you trace your eyes over the curve of his Adam’s Apple, the crook of his shallow collarbone, the slope of his tits and the fucking sight of his nipples, pebbling from the cold. You want to flick them. You want to put your hands on his abdomen and cup his tits and you want to mess him up.

“It’s better when you wait for it,” Rafayel murmurs. His breath is hot against the crook of your ear, and you can feel the break in his breathing when he laughs. “Do you like this?”

“Do something,” you whine, tilting your head back just to get a better look at the lithe line of Rafayel’s body hovering over yours. It’s driving you insane, having him this close but not touching—you’ve been conditioned to expect skin contact from Rafayel, his little absent-minded touches as he grazes his shoulder against yours, a hand curving around your waist to gently nudge you aside when he walks by, fingers wrapping around yours.

When he exhales, you swear you can see it. The shadow of smoke in the dim light, swooping down in the empty space between both of your lips. It’s maddening having him here, having this sliver of space between you two. You could reach up around his waist and drag him down; you could wrap one hand around the base of his neck and pull and he would go, sweetly, obediently, and he would make the most delicious sounds into your mouth.

You know this. You know it like you know the back of your hand, because he’s done it a million times before. You think you’ve never known anyone as well as you know Rafayel—like looking into a deep pool of still water and finding your reflection looking back.

Rafayel hums, the heat of his breath scattering over your collarbones as he rolls his hips. You swallow, mind spinning from the slightest scrape of tight leather against your thighs. He does it again, hips grinding in this slow, torturous move right above your core.

“Your muscles,” you say weakly, eyes riveted to the tension in his abdomen. His muscles are taut, pale skin clearly visible through the dip in his shirt. A bead of sweat drips down, tracing a path between his pectorals and down, down, down—

Your eyes follow it greedily, wishing you could chase after it with your tongue.

“You look delirious,” Rafayel whispers, his voice low and hoarse. There’s a husk to his words, and you can’t help the way you swallow, fingers tightening further into fists. You’re familiar with that voice. That’s how he sounds after he’s been worked up beyond belief, until all he can think of is laying you out and eating you clean.

This is clearly doing it for him too, just as much as it’s working on you. The lights flicker, bleeding from one color into the next. It’s crazy how Rafayel looks bewitching in every color; the neon red light looks like crimson splashed across his face, highlighting the cut of his cheekbone and the glint of his teeth when he smirks at you. The blue light casts his face into darkness, smoothing his features out and the shadow stretches over him, the color melting into his hair. He looks like a siren rising out of a water surface, eyes half-lidded and lips barely parted, fingers itching to steal your soul away.

You’re possessed by the sudden desire to dump a glass of water on him. This look would be greatly improved if he was drenched to the bone, you think dizzily, with crystal droplets hanging off his eyelashes, dipping in the crook of his lips, pooling in his clavicle. His shirt, translucent as it is, would turn completely transparent. It would cling to his skin even more than it already does.

“Please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re begging for. His hands on you. His mouth on you. His weight on you, pressing you down, holding you in place as he does whatever he wants to your body.

His smirk is so self-satisfied that you want to kiss it off his lips.

“Patience,” he murmurs. Rafayel braces his knees against the seat of the couch and leans back, wearing a brazen look as he looks at you. His smile spreads as he crooks his fingers at you—you bend forward, lips parting as if ready to use your tongue to trace the grooves on his abdomen.

Rafayel laughs. It’s a smug sound, but you can’t even fault him. He cuts a stunning figure like this, thighs spread and framed in shining leather, shirt so low and open that you don’t know where to look; the light drips over his skin like someone poured liquid gold all over him, drenching him in a moving pattern of red and blue lights.

He holds a hand out. “Your hand,” he says, and you quickly put your palm in his like you’re no better than a dog.

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel teases, flipping your hand over to press a kiss to your fingertips before he pulls it to his jaw. You flex your fingers, trying to swallow past the sudden thudding of your heart as he presses your hand to the slant of his jaw, down to the line of his neck.

You’re not given any time to linger on the heat radiating off his body. He pulls your hand further down, your fingers grasping uselessly at the meat of his chest, trembling as your palm flattens against his skin.

And then, as if he’s been doing this all his life, Rafayel arches his back. His muscles roll in this slow, sinuous movement as he drags your hand down his abdomen.

You can feel it in aching clarity. The expanding of his rib cage as he breathes, the tension in his muscles as he clenches his abdomen to even out the grind of his hips. The heat, that absurd, blistering heat that you’re certain will melt your fingerprints clean off your fingers.

He does it again. Leans forward, eyes glittering in the flickering lights as he arches his back, letting you feel the way his muscles move under his skin as he rolls his hips.

Without thinking, you reach forward with your other hand. You’re not even sure where you’re aiming at—you just want to get your hand on him. The details can be handled later.

But Rafayel catches your wrist before your fingers even scrape past the loose material of his shirt. “No touching the merchandise,” he chides, holding you in place.

Your fingernails scratch pointedly at his abdomen. It makes him huff out a laugh—a surprised, breathy sound that for some reason gives you the urge to get your mouth on him now.

“I’m already touching you,” you breathe out, eyes glazing over when Rafayel clenches his abs just to watch the way you lose focus.

“I let you touch me,” Rafayel shoots back, smug as ever. “You don’t get to touch me without permission.”

“Raf—”

“Just enjoy it, Miss,” he murmurs, nudging one knee in between yours to slide your thighs apart. “I’m putting on a show. Don’t you like it?”

You like it a bit too much. All of a sudden, you realise why people like to keep pretty things in cages. Rafayel would look entrancing like that, you think, eyes wandering over his body. Lounging in a long column of water with transparent walls, like a fish tank in an aquarium large enough to store a whole pod of dolphins. Stuck with no where to go.

But your breath catches in your throat before you can reply with something intelligent. Rafayel presses his lips to the underside of your neck, at the spot where your jaw meets your throat—featherlight, so quickly that you almost miss it.

While you’re frozen, breath trapped under your tongue, he hums and traces a faint path down your body. His lips on your neck, your collarbones, the dip between your tits—he leans down, switching to your bare arm when the fabric of your slip dress gets in the way.

Surely he can feel it. The pulse of your heartbeat under your skin, a mile a minute, fluttering at the sight of his half-crescent lips trailing against the sensitive underside of your forearm.

And then he gets on his knees. He’s right there, eyes bright and glittering like jewels under the dancing lights as he leans forward to press the side of his cheek against your thigh.

You can feel the way his breath heats up against your knee. It feels like he’s burning a mark into you, etching the shape of his lips into your skin. You won’t ever be able to remove it. It’ll be branded into your inner thigh, the crimson half-moon stains that mark you as his.

“Spread your legs for me,” Rafayel whispers, lips curving into a smile. “Open up, baby.”

The flush in your cheeks feels absurd. You must look drunk, inebriated after one too many shots as your thighs spread instinctively to frame Rafayel in between them. He reaches up, each hand wrapping around the outside of your knees, fingers dipping into the crook at the back.

His grip is light, barely any pressure on your legs, but you feel like his hands may as well be two shackles against your knees, holding you in place.

“Wider,” he says, eyes brilliant in the flickering lights. You could drown in that gaze, if the heat in your core didn’t kill you first. “Come on, gorgeous.”

“Raf,” you groan, thighs spreading even further. It makes you slip from your position on the sofa, inching further down just to make space for your legs to open wider.

The fabric of your dress rucks up around your hips. It folds messily, and Rafayel holds your gaze in this heartstopping, torturous moment as his fingers creep up and under your dress.

There’s something about it. Something you can’t explain, not even with an entire dictionary at your disposal. There is something about the way you can’t see his fingers, his palms as he slides them further up your thighs, below the crease of silk. The way the back of his hands and his wrists slowly, gradually disappear under your dress. While he keeps his gaze on you, eyes burning with such intent and desire it makes you breathless.

His fingers bump up against your underwear, the way the fabric digs into your thighs. The shock of it all makes you yelp a little, hands flying forward to feel blindly for Rafayel’s hands under your dress.

You’re not sure what purpose you want to achieve. You’re just—it’s just—it’s just a lot, okay, and the way he looks at you is so—

Rafayel doesn’t do anything. His fingers go still, frozen under your grip, but you can feel the bracing heat of them through the thin fabric of your underwear. Your damp underwear. If his fingers were to slip, you know he would be able to press his thumb against the wet spot right at your slit, or slide higher to press at your throbbing clit.

You make this low, reedy noise, and let go of his hands. You shift even lower on the sofa, back curved as you lean your head back against the headrest. Your thighs spread just a little bit wider.

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel murmurs, eyes finally lowering as he lifts the skirt of your dress. “Look at how pretty you are.”

“Get on with it,” you bite out, voice shaky from arousal. The music is getting to you—the deep, pulsing bass throbs at your temples, holding your heart in a vice grip. The singer is crooning something; his deep, low voice rumbling on and on about sex and you’re too out of it to properly register the lyrics.

Rafayel pays you no mind. He takes his own sweet time to push your dress further up your hips, exposing the line of your thighs and your underwear to his hungry gaze.

And then, right under your eyes, he leans in and presses a kiss to your stiff clit.

“Raf!” You try to shut your thighs on instinct, hips jerking at the sudden pressure against your clit, but Rafayel’s hands are firm against the inside of your thighs and he holds you open. He forces your legs wider, and he looks up at you as he fits his mouth to the middle of your panties, tongue flat against where your core burns the hottest.

Fuck, you think, mouth open as you try to gasp for air. Rafayel is good at this—too good, you think, to the point where you flush when you catch yourself staring at his mouth for too long sometimes—and he breathes out on your cunt, relishing in the way your clit twitches in your panties.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Rafayel murmurs, pulling the fabric taut over your pussy so he can see your swollen clit straining through your panties. He gives it another kiss, and you arch your back at the electricity that lights your body up when he does that. Rafayel knows what you like, and he wields that knowledge like a weapon.

You gaze at him, eyes half-lidded as you try to reach for his hair. Rafayel ducks away from your searching fingers, giving you a smile when you scowl at him.

“No touching the merchandise,” he reminds you.

A disgruntled noise leaves your mouth. How are you supposed to hold him in place when he won’t let you touch him? “Take them off, Raf, please—”

It’s as if Rafayel was put on this Earth specifically to raise your blood pressure. Even when he has his mouth on your cunt, face between your legs, he’s still possessed by the overpowering urge to do something that goes against what you say.

“Not yet,” he says, nonplussed, and drags your underwear to the side to expose your dripping center. “Look at how wet you are.”

Rafayel’s voice is gravelly, hoarse as he stares at you. Your pussy clenches instinctively—his gaze feels heavy, like a physical weight bearing into you. You’d really like a physical weight bearing into you right now, actually, and you know exactly where you can find one.

He presses his tongue to your clit. Your hips spasm, eyes rolling into the back of your head when he closes his lips around your swollen bud and sucks. It feels like fire burning through your entire body, pleasure sparking in your veins when he laps at your clit. You could cum like this, his clever tongue working your clit over and over in the soft wetness of his mouth.

“So pretty,” Rafayel murmurs to himself, not even caring if you hear. He drags his tongue down, licking along the length of your cunt, spit mixing with the wetness dripping from your pussy. He rearranges his grip on your inner thigh—his palm frames the vee of your hips now, thumb pulling at the side of your cunt to open you up for his taking.

Rafayel eats you out like a man possessed. There’s this wild, desperate hunger in him, in the way he moves his mouth, the way he surfaces to gasp for air before going back to dip his tongue into your pussy and lick at your insides. He eats you out so greedily that you can truly believe he would be happy here, trapped between your legs and buried in your cunt for so long he goes breathless while you go cross-eyed with pleasure so overwhelming it makes you dizzy.

“Fuck,” Rafayel groans, panting against your cunt. His breath feels like he’s blowing hot smoke against your clit, making it twitch uncontrollably with every gust of air over it. You’re so worked up that just this is enough to make your hips jerk forward, chasing the ghost of his mouth to try to get it back on your cunt. “You taste so fucking good, Miss—”

“More,” you beg, straining against the sofa to try to get leverage, any kind of leverage to tilt your hips up. “Please, Raf, I’m close—fuck, I’m—”

This time, he doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves his head, tongue curling as he fucks it into your throbbing pussy. You’re so close, right on the precipice—it’s like your entire body is a livewire, hips jerking uncontrollably whenever his tongue hits that sweet spot and making your nerves light up with pleasure. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open; you want to keep your eyes on Rafayel, to see the way his curls bounce as he mouths hungrily at your cunt. But the pleasure is so devastating, so mind-numbing that you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut, your body unable to concentrate on more than one sensation at once.

Your clit is so stiff that it aches. And when Rafayel licks at it, flicking his tongue against your swollen clit and relishing in the desperate, needy sounds falling from your mouth—

It crescendos like a tsunami wave rising to its peak. Your body freezes, mouth falling open as you arch your back, pushing up, up, up against Rafayel’s tongue. It spreads through you like a wildfire, burning you up from the inside out. Your mind is blank, you can’t think, you can’t even make a sound.

You just gasp, silent as the orgasm crashes over you like the tide, taking you under and drowning you beneath the water. Rafayel keeps fucking going, sucking at your clit to keep you right on that knife’s edge, pleasure melting into overstimulation because he knows you like it when it aches. When it becomes a little biting, when it starts to hurt just a little.

He laps at your clit until you shiver, hands weakly pressing against his forehead. Rafayel gives your cunt one last lick, sucking at the lips of your pussy and licking his lips when he catches your gaze.

“All done?” He asks, reaching up to wipe the visible remnants of your orgasm from his jaw. “Another one?”

“I want to suck your cock,” you say, the breath still mostly fucked out of you. “Come—come here.”

“Nuh-uh,” Rafayel tells you, rising back to his feet. The music is still thumping through the walls, resounding in the room as you tilt your head back and stare up at him. “I’m not done. It isn’t a strip show until I’ve gotten naked.”

You blink at him. He still—

“Okay,” you say uselessly. You can see the thick outline of his cock through his pants, so visible that you’re almost certain the leather will burst. “Go on.”

He gives you this smug, confident smile, and you politely don’t mention how the bottom half of his mouth is still wet from your cum.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds rafayel #rafayel #恋与深空 #祁煜 #러브앤딥스페이스 #恋と深空

342 notes · View notes

twstgarden · 1 year

Text

❁ ❝ 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽 ❞

━ third years and gn! driver! reader (reader can either be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ going on a road trip all around sage's island with the third years until it unexpectedly rains, leaving you with no choice but to park somewhere and have a conversation with the third years. (f/n means first name)

do not steal or translate without my permission.

"oi, are you sure you can drive?"

leona's inquisitive question along with a raised brow made you scoff as you spoke proudly, "relax, leona. i can handle it~ be a passenger princess for now, will ya'?"

"he can hardly be a proper prince, what makes you think he'd do well as a passenger princess?" remarked vil as he looked at leona with a nasty gaze. "i'm surprised n/n has a car in the first place," added cater as he laughed a bit before connecting his phone to the bluetooth audio system of the car, "an 11-seater suv out of all cars..."

"quite a large vehicle," mumbled malleus as he looked around the interior of the car, sitting by the window with lilia beside him. the older fae chuckled at malleus' curiosity before looking at your eyes through the rear view mirror, "where are we heading, little one?"

you let out a hum as you inserted the key in the ignition, looking at lilia through the rearview mirror as you spoke, "just around the island."

"so, wasting petrol?" mumbled idia as he sat in the furthest back seat. he initially did not want to come, but lo and behold, ortho did his little negotiating and now, here he was, seated beside trey in the last row of the back seat.

"...no, not wasting petrol. we'll just tour around the island, y'know? stop by at some restaurants, look at the scenery, pass by the beach near rsa..."

the moment you mentioned rsa, a series of groans were heard in the car as you sighed to yourself. "relax, we won't park anywhere near rsa, if that's what you guys are worried about," you spoke as the engine started and you were now prepared to start driving, "and anyway, this ain't my car. i rented it somewhere nearby."

"...that sounds suspicious," spoke vil as he sat properly on the middle seat, looking at you through the rearview mirror before looking ahead as you started driving. "don't worry, professor crewel was there to rent it out for me... as long as i won't break the car, i'll be fine," you reassured as you started driving, leaving the gates of night raven college and slowly ascending down the mountain where the school was located.

"be careful. you're in the presence of royalty," snickered leona as he looked ahead on the road while you continued driving. you rolled your eyes at his remark as you spoke, "don't worry, i'm not a reckless driver. i will make sure malleus won't get hurt."

malleus smiled at your words, while leona sneered. "i meant me. i'm the one in the front seat. who cares what happens to vil and that bastard back there, i'm the one with higher risk," spoke leona. you weren't sure if he was messing with you, but you still smiled as you found it refreshing to know that he was comfortable enough with you to say such things. on the other hand, malleus and vil glared at the savanaclaw dorm leader for his remarks.

"oh, magnifique! isn't this a wonderful time to bond? a road trip around the beautiful sage's island with them as our personal driver!" cheered rook as he seemed to be very happy. "let's just hope we're alive by the time our road trip ends," added vil as he gave you a teasing smile through the rearview mirror, knowing that you can clearly see him there.

you scoffed at his words as you spoke, "now you guys are just being mean~"

by the time you drove around the street, passing by a few bakeries and shops, you looked at your rearview mirror and noticed how idia was only looking out the window in silence, which made you reduce the volume of the song playing through the bluetooth car stereo.

"hey, ids."

his eyes immediately met yours through the rearview mirror as you spoke, "wanna buy some snacks? i can stop by at a convenience store or a bakery."

"a-any's fine..." mumbled idia, looking away as he hid his face in the backseat, making trey glance at idia before looking at you through the rearview mirror. "i won't mind visiting the bakery, f/n," said trey as he smiled at you politely.

"no problemo, mister good-looking."

the heartslabyul vice leader chuckled softly at your words as cater spoke, "i wanna go to the bakery, too!" you nodded as you drove to the bakery that the first-years loved, parking nearby as you pulled up the handbrake after setting the stick shift into park mode if you were driving an automatic vehicle, or turning off the engine with a foot on the brake pedal if you were driving a manual car.

you and the rest of the third years then got out of the car and once everyone was out, you locked the vehicle before walking inside the bake shop. however, you paused by the door as you looked up and noticed that the previously sunny sky was now covered with grey clouds.

"n/n, come on! why are you still standing there?" questioned lilia as he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the bake shop where the rest had already fallen in line, looking up at the menu as some of them started discussing what they should get.

"is there anything you want?" asked malleus as he looked down at you. you let out a thoughtful hum as you eyed the menu, opting to go for a beverage and pastry of your choice. as you voiced out your order, malleus nodded as lilia took note of your orders with the diasomnia dorm head insisting to pay for your purchase.

by the time everyone had their chosen treats, some of you sat by a nearby table as you nibbled on your pastry. malleus was seated across from you, sipping on his black coffee, while lilia was beside him as he took a bite out of his plain butter croissant.

"i can see why ace and deuce wanted to invite us along with riddle to this bakery. this place is sooooo magicammable!" cheered cater as he started taking pictures of the place, their pastries, their beverages, and even your table which had your order along with the rest's laid out on top. he and trey were standing behind you as they sipped and bit on their orders.

"hey now, drink your tea," spoke trey as he took a bite of his muffin, humming softly as he eyed it as if inspecting the treat.

beside you sat vil and on your other side was idia, you glanced at the ignihyde dorm leader and noticed his head was down as he bit on his truffles, not bothering to initiate eye contact or converse with anyone. however, he did notice your gaze on him, making him take a quick glance at you.

you smiled at him as you asked softly, "did you enjoy that?" idia hummed as he replied in a voice that only you could hear, "yeah. their truffles are hella delicious, n/n. i should probably take a picture of this place so i could show it to ortho..."

"you should," you encouraged as you took out your phone, "we can take a picture of the bakery from my phone." idia nodded and you started taking shots of the bakery, including idia's truffles on the table. then, you opted for taking a sneaky selfie of you two, you posed with your usual smile and a peace sign, while idia covered his face with one hand but still let himself be seen in your shot.

"hey, unfair~ how come you two are the only ones taking a selfie? join us, too!" exclaimed cater as he leaned his head down until his chin was inches above your shoulder, posing with a peace sign as you brought up your phone and took a picture with him.

idia returned to consuming his truffles as you pointed your front camera to you and vil, making the pomefiore dorm head raise a brow at your actions before smiling at the camera. once you took a picture with vil, he spoke, "if you're planning to post that, it'll cost you."

"don't worry~ it's for my eyes only," you spoke as you switched your front-facing camera to back-facing, pointing it ahead of you which took malleus and lilia in the frame as they were seated across from you. they noticed the camera and smiled, making you click on the shutter button as you took a picture.

sometime later, you all returned back to the vehicle and this time, rook is the passenger princess, so leona had to sit beside vil. rook then took out his camera as he took pictures of the view, but by the time you were about to leave your parking spot, the sound of thunder roaring was heard followed by the pitter-patter of the heavy rain.

"ah, it's raining," mumbled trey as he looked out the window.

"is it safe to drive back?" asked vil.

"doesn't seem safe... our school is on the top of the mountain and the road up the mountain must be slippery with how heavy the rain is..." you replied as you looked around the area, mumbling to yourself, "there must be somewhere around here where we can park safely under a shade... or an open garage..."

"there might be one nearby the crane port," spoke leona. "if not the port, we can find a parking shade nearby a hotel or residential area," added vil as he looked out the window on his left as it was a free seat, leona was on his right and behind leona was cater, behind vil was lilia, and behind the free seat was malleus. behind malleus was idia, behind cater was trey, rook was the passenger princess seated in front of leona and you were the driver seated in front of the free seat beside vil.

you started driving slowly out of the bakery's parking spot and drove around the area to look for a parking shade. it seems the gods were smiling down at you as you found a parking shade nearby a famous hotel in the central town of sage's island.

"holy shit, i found one."

a sudden flick on your shoulder made you yelp as you quickly turned to look behind you before driving towards the parking shade. it was vil who flicked your shoulder as he spoke, "watch your language." you grumbled under your breath as you parked under the parking shade, turning off the engine of the car and sighing softly as you slumped on your seat.

"sorry you guys had to be stuck under the rain in an suv..." you mumbled, looking up at the ceiling of the vehicle as rook turned to look at you, "non, non. there is no need to apologise. it's a rare experience!"

"yeah! plus this gives us more time to chat with each other before separating ways back on the campus," added cater as he and rook gave you positive smiles. "ah... extroverts..." mumbled idia to himself as he sighed softly.

"we have some leftover treats from the bakery, no? we can all sip on our drink or nibble on our treats while waiting for the weather to clear out," suggested trey.

"sure, but don't make a mess, everyone..." you said as you sat properly on your seat before turning around to face everyone else, smiling at them as you spoke, "so... did you all unwind? i know you guys have a lot to do, especially since you're all third-years."

"it was a wonderful experience," said malleus as he smiled at you. "yes! driving around with friends is really an amazing experience. i had fun. thank you, little one," added lilia as he sipped on his drink.

"how are you feeling?" asked vil as he sipped on his green tea, "you've been driving us around for almost two hours." your eyes drifted to vil as you gave him a grateful nod, "i'm alright, vil. driving is somehow therapeutic to me sometimes, so i'm all good! thank you for the concern, queen."

and so, you and the third years continued chatting for a while as the rain poured down sage's island, drenching all the streets and everything else under the sky with a pitter-patter sound. despite the gloomy weather, you were having a lighthearted conversation with the rest of the third years as smiles and laughter were seen on your faces.

'hanging out with the third years is always a pleasant experience, even vil and leona's bickering can be quite endearing every now and then...' you thought to yourself before your gaze went to malleus, 'ah, as for leona and malleus' bickering, that's still something to get used to...'

487 notes · View notes

ardnin · 2 years

Text

I ripped and uploaded all of Splatoon 3′s music

I started ripping some of the games music I liked for myself but decided to do the enitre OST since honestly every track is a banger and I almost ripped the entire thing anyways at this point lol

I uploaded all of it on my Google Drive now so feel free to download!

For the procedure, I converted the in-game audio to wav which I then amplified as much as possible without clipping, since the audio is very low in the original files. For multichannel audio files I edited them into seperate tracks or mixed them together.

For example: The Hero Mode level music has 2 stereo channels for the main music and another 2 for the beat that gets added when enemies have spotted you. I edited so that the beat starts playing in the second loop of the music.

I exported the final edits as flac, so this should be the highest possible quality for the games music

Also, I split the music up into sections like Hero Mode, Multiplayer and Salmon Run music, since there is just so much and I wanted to make it easier to browse through. For some music that isn’t named yet I added descriptors in parentheses in the file names like (Bang Bang) for that one Hero Mode track you probably already know which one I’m talking about. These descriptors are not in the original file names in the game data, I made them up so it’s easier to remember which of the unnamed tracks is which.

#splatoon3 #splatoon music #vgm #splatoon ost

2K notes · View notes

fayes-fics · 8 months

Text

Call Me

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: When you are parted from Benedict, he guides you through pleasuring yourself....

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, use of sex toy.

Word Count: 3.5k

Authors Note: this is a very belated request fill for the talented and lovely @broooookiecrisp from her ask HERE, where Benedict guides the reader through masturbation. She also chose the pic above, which looks very modern Benedict in Tuscany :) I hope you enjoy this story, my lovely. Thanks to @colettebronte for reading this through & @eleanor-bradstreet for the title. Enjoy! <3

The Facetime call connects as you recline, wearing your noise-cancelling wireless headset.

“Hello darling,” that familiar smooth voice greets, “I've missed you.” His sigh is deep and heartfelt. With the volume up, it sounds like he is lying right with you, but then it's in both ears; the stereo effect makes your tummy feel warm.

“I've missed you too,” you hum, toying with the corner of the duvet you lay under. You are so happy he secured an artist retreat residency in Tuscany for the week, but you miss him terribly. He's only been gone a few days, but it feels like forever.

“I'm sorry this has to be an audio call; the wifi here is shockingly slow and the phone reception non-existent; I thought it better to sacrifice a blocky video for crystal clear audio,” he explains. “You will just have to imagine my face,” he adds with a soft laugh.

Indeed, your mind fills with images of his handsome face; you can even picture the gentle, lopsided grin you can hear in his tone.

“Are you somewhere private?” you ask, a little nervous.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” his question shifting into that lower cadence that fires all the butterflies.

“I miss you,” you offer again, hoping perhaps he can intuit what you are asking for, drawing your knees up, the cotton sheet catching on your heels as you do so.

“I miss you too,” he echoes again, “but I don't think that needs to be said in private,” his tone laconic.

He knows exactly where your thoughts have slid, but he's playing innocent. He always goads you into pushing to speak your mind, to voice your desires, and tonight is no different—gently coaxing you to profess what you want.

“I want you to talk to me,” your voice with a slight waver that betrays a hidden meaning in the words.

“I am,” the timbre makes the little earphones in your ear almost vibrate, and a frisson runs down your spine.

“No…” you hesitate, “talk to me,” emphasising the word.

“If you want something from me, darling, all you have to do is ask,” his tone a dark lilting tease now.

“Talk to me like you do when we are intimate,” you rush out on an exhale.

His rich chuckle makes your nipples pebble without so much as a touch. “Now we are getting somewhere….” he buzzes. “Are you going to touch yourself for me while I do, hmm?”

You bite your lip but can't disguise the whimper that escapes. You close your eyes and flick the volume up two notches on your phone, throwing it aside so both hands are available.

“I want you to tell me what to do,” you breathe, pushing the duvet down your body, feeling heated.

You hear the noise that catches deep in his throat; it's thick and desirous, and you thank the technology gods for headsets with this level of quality.

“What are you wearing?” he rumbles.

“Nothing…” you confess, knowing it's breathy and wanton.

“Oh god, yes,” his rushed response, a reflex that makes you clench your thighs together, loving how affected he is just by that simple statement. “Where are you?��

“In our bed.”

“Under the covers?”

“I was, but now I'm feeling hot, so I've pushed them aside. It's just me… naked… uncovered… alone… resting on your pillow…”

With each little phase, you can hear his breathing getting more pronounced. “Why my pillow?”

“It smells like you,” you answer.

“Does that turn you on?” his voice going tight.

“Yes, oh god, Ben, yes, it does.”

He growls lightly when you say his name, the noise in your ears so loud it makes you squeak, a hand straying to your breast.

“Guide me, please; I need to imagine it's your hands on me. “Draw me a mental picture as clear and evocative as one of your beautiful paintings.”

“Hmmmm,” his thoughtful hum runs right through your body with the volume up. “How about we take this slow, build to something? I have a painting I worked on earlier today. Would you like me to describe it to you? Describe how I would paint you into it?”

“Yes! Yes, please,” you enthuse quickly, desperate for his artistry in all senses of the word.

“It's Tuscany, a sun-drenched summer’s day,” his storytelling is always spellbinding, so you settle back into the pillows as if listening to a private audiobook made just for you. “The sky is azure blue; the fields are bright, verdant green. Olive trees dot the rolling hills all around. Right in the middle is a small vineyard. A gentle slope of neatly rowed vines, the leaves canopying bunches of ripened grapes, drooping heavily, ready for harvest.”

As he speaks, you spider your fingertips over your collarbone, imagining the heat of the sun on your skin.

“The grass between the vine rows is lush and thick, a balm from the heat,” his sonorous voice continues at a lush pace. “That is where I would paint you, lying on that hillside. The cool blades tickling your back as the sun bakes your skin.”

“What am I wearing, Benedict?” you inquire, gently biting your lip as your hands stray lower onto the swell of your breast, so enchanted by the picture he paints.

“Exactly what you are right now,” he responds with a slight hitch.

“Nothing?” you gasp, the idea suddenly so risque but more beguiling.

“That's right,” he rumbles. “I would paint you utterly nude.”

You brush lightly around your own areola, writhing gently under your own touch.

“Are you with me, Benedict? In this vineyard?” your breath quickening.

“How else am I going to paint you unless I am there too?” he teases gently. “And guess what I would be doing while I'm painting?”

“What?” goosebumps on your arms with anticipation, your fingers moving concentric circles.

“I would tell you to touch yourself, just as I am now. There is nothing I want to paint more than you in the throes of ecstasy,” he exhales raggedly. “You are beautiful, wild, glorious….”

“I want that too,” you rush out. “Why have you never done it before?”

He chuckles richly; the sound feels like a shimmer over your body. “Because it would be impossible to be near you when you are naked and not to touch you,” his admission is almost rueful.

“I wish you were with me,” it’s wistful.

“I am,” he assures. “just remember hmm? Sunny hillside, naked, the sun on your skin and me there with you. Now, darling, I can tell you are already doing something; I can hear the quirk in your breath. Tell me, tell me in detail.”

“I’m..” you hesitate, “...I’m touching my nipples,” you rush out, finally letting your fingers trail over the nub, pebbling hard as he moans lightly.

“Oh yes,” he stutters, “don’t stop. Give them a gentle pinch for me. Between your finger and thumb…” he waits for your little hiss, and then he hums, “Mmm, does that feel good?”

“Yessss,” you hiss.

“Imagine it’s my fingers, darling,” he requests, and you do.

You think of how it feels when his hands cup your breast, as you do now, and tease your nipples until you beg him to stop. You hear his breath catching in his throat as you make tiny little needy noises and tilt up a fraction off the bed, teasing yourself as he does.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Now wet your fingers, suck on them…”

You know he can hear the wet, suckling noise right in his earpiece as you do as commanded, returning your fingers and painting the dampness over your skin as it puckers heavily under the sensation.

“Now pinch yourself just a little harder; imagine it’s my tongue and teeth; I know how much you like it when I suck hard and just a gentle bite….”

“Ben…” you murmur his name as you move, your head rolling on the pillow, eyes fluttering.

“Fuckkk,” you hear him mutter, losing his composure. It makes something inside you catch fire, a tingle between your legs buzzing harder.

“What next?” you beseech, wanting this to go quicker but at the same time to never stop.

“Slide your fingers down over your ribs, my love,” he stumbles a little, and you hear a squeak as if he is changing position.

“Tickles,” you giggle, and Benedict laughs softly with you.

“I know. I love to run the tip of my nose there,” he divulges, “or I may use a firmer touch. Do that, darling. Sweep your whole palm down, and feel the rise and fall with your breathing as you go.”

You do as asked, the heavier touch centring you somehow as your hand slips onto your tummy.

“Take your time, but don’t stop moving lower, darling,” he lectures. “You know I never do.”

It is so low it echoes around your whole being. Your thighs fall open, a trickle escaping your body.

“Oh god, I’m burning for you, Ben,” it’s out before you can stop it.

“Where?”

“You know where,” you obfuscate.

“I'm not there, remember? I need you to paint me a picture. I know you can do it. Don’t worry. No one can hear us; it’s just you and me. Missing each other.” His gentle, loving reassurance is the push you need.

“Between my legs,” you stutter under his coaxing.

“Are you wet for me?” he queries, panting a little.

“Yes,” you disclose quietly.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Not yet,” you swirl your fingers through the patch of hair, almost as if waiting for his permission to touch.

“You want me to tell you exactly what to do, don’t you?” He intuits.

“Please,” you croak.

“Okay. I just have one condition…” he tapers off, temptingly, knowing he has you on tenterhooks.

“What?” the question is breathy, impatient.

“You have to be loud for me,” he petitions. “Don’t you dare hold back; I want to hear it all.”

“Okay, I promise,” you whisper, your clit pulsing, aching to be touched.

“Alright….” He begins as you hear more sounds like he is getting into position in bed himself, a slight rustle of cotton. “Bend your legs, bring your heels up high right near your bottom…”

You do as instructed.

“Now, splay your knees out wide.”

Again you follow to the letter, feeling the cool air swirling around your exposed, damp slit.

“Reach behind your head and then slide my pillow under your hips…,” he continues in that sinful tone.

“Why?” You check even as you do as asked.

“Because I want my pillow to smell like your pussy when I get home,” he snarls. The untamed way he says it, so loud in your ears, makes you squeak. He has no shame in being explicit, even if you often flounder to do the same.

Now, with your hips raised, it’s easier to touch yourself; likely, he thought about that, too.

“Mmm, are you comfortable again?” he checks.

“Yes,” you confirm, hand slipping to where it was before.

“Good, now take your middle finger and slide it lower,” he instructs. “Keep going until you find that little clit of yours,” you swear he has entered an even throatier register now, each word like dark silk cloaking you.

As your finger pad slides over that spot, you can’t help the little ohhhh that escapes your lips.

“Oh yes, you’ve found it, haven’t you? Now slide a little lower, hook that finger, and pull back up.”

You do as told and moan as your finger immediately snags the most sensitive spot.

“Oh fuck yes,” you can hear the shudder in his tone, how affected he is, making you fizz too. The self-consciousness melts away as his precise instructions root you into your body, letting your mind shut off all the thoughts and worries—just focussed on the present.

“Swirl that finger gently for me, baby,” he compels, “anticlockwise.”

Instantly, your body responds as if it were his touch. You breathe deep as you keep moving, the slickness of your desire easing your motions.

“Are you swelling just a little?” he sounds more urgent now.

“Yes,” you confirm, your clit swelling under your touch as you picture him, his face hovering over you, imagining his fingers teasing you as his lips slid hot over your neck.

“Oh god, I love when you get all swollen and puffy and flushed right there for me,” he groans lewdly, and it’s a beeline straight to your pussy. It convulses around nothing, leaking over your bottom cheeks and onto his pillow. You call his name louder, squirming bodily, something tugging inside. Your body craves him—to be fucked, invaded, pushed open, pounded until it aches from that delicious stretch.

“Fuck I need you, Ben,” you moan as your fingers move faster, sliding over that little pearl. “I need you to fuck me so hard.”

“I want that, but not yet,” he grits out, your declaration seeming to fuel him. “Imagine it’s my tongue, darling, lathing against your clit, drinking up all that beautiful juice. You always taste divine, like a slightly tart peach, sweet but sharp.”

Your mind supplies images of just that, his slightly stubbled jaw rubbing against the sensitive skin of your labia as he has to use both hands to hold you open to his onslaught, your legs reflexively wanting to close up around his head at the powerful sensations you feel, your fingers running into his lush head of hair, nails scraping along his warn scalp, praising his skill.

“When I tell you to, you grab your vibrator, baby.” he interrupts your reverie.

“Yes,” you comply, knowing it is tucked safely under your pillow beside you.

“For now, keep rubbing for me; go faster,” he implores. “Let me hear you, your beautiful voice….”

You speed up, changing motions as he guides you to do so. Softly chanting his name as you notch higher up that invisible ladder. But he knows your body so well—knows with absolute precision when to shake things up, as he does now.

“STOP!!!” he instructs harshly.

You instantly halt ministrations, whining, hearing his laboured breaths loud in your ear, your fingers frozen inches above your folds.

“Oh, are you pulsing baby? Are you so close to coming?” he sounds proud, almost smug.

“Yesssss… please let me continue,” you plead, lungs heaving.

“No,” he menaces as your hand wanders over your thighs to stop the temptation to defy him, feeling the quiver in your muscles.

“Where has your other hand been?” he quizzes.

“Gripping the sheets,” you admit as he huffs a laugh about your honesty.

“Now swap. Touch your clit with that hand,” he tutors.

“What about my other hand? It's soaked,” you confess abashed.

“I know, baby, we are going to put it to good use. Slide two of those soaked fingers inside your pussy for me,” he instructs, so low that every word buzzes in your bones.

You call out his name as you slide two fingers deep into your own soaked pussy, rippling around your touch, a lewd, squelching sound as you do so.

“Oh fuck… I think I heard that,” he inhales sharply.

“You,” you assert, “you did this to me.”

He makes a feral noise in response, breathing in harsh gusts.

“Fuck yourself,” he growls, “fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Your movements are instinctual now, following his words to the letter. Shame melted away under the heat of desire. For him, for this. To come so damn hard you scream the walls down. Plunging your fingers as deep as you can reach, over and over. Your hips are pushed high off the bed, shoulder blades and feet taking your weight as you race greedily towards your peak, forehead and the back of your neck dewy from the exertion. Thinking of his fingers buried inside, of how, when it’s him, he holds you down with a solid quad muscle over your thigh, doesn’t let you buck up as you are now.

“Please, Ben. I need your cock,” you bumble, uncensored, whimpering that you can’t quite reach as deep as he can, reach that spot that makes you babble utter nonsense and white out with pleasure.

“Grab that vibrator y/n. Fuck yourself properly,” he orders gruffly.

You release your clit and fumble under your pillow for it, a slight sound of victory catching in your throat as you do so.

Without preamble, you thrust it inside yourself, just as he would with his cock when he knows you are this mindless. The stretch isn’t as good as him, not the same weight and heat, but it still feels like a heavenly sensation in your heightened state. Your noises staccato as you take it all on board, pausing slightly to get used to the invasion.

“Did I say you could stop?” he interrogates.

Without riposte, you scramble to obey, withdrawing the vibe then sinking it back in, attempting to ape one of his rhythms, the sense memory of him moving inside you making you moan loudly.

“That’s it. Does that feel good?” his voice practically a purr.

“Yes, but not as good as you,” you answer, missing the feel of him surrounding you when you are fucking. Skin, sweat, scent, weight, the feeling of another body covering or moving under yours.

“I know, darling. I promise it will be me soon. I’ll be home in a few days,” he pledges, breathing hard.

“Will you fuck me as soon as you are home?” you implore, wanting nothing more in this moment.

“Yes, baby. I’ll take you in the hallway if you want,” he vows, his cadence desperate.

“Please…” that word is all you can stutter as the hand controlling the vibe becomes a frenzy, your pussy clinging to its mass as if it were his cock.

“Don’t forget that engorged clit,” he reminds. “I need you to rub it as hard as you can with that other hand,” his voice is becoming more broken. “Im fucking you right now,” he avows roughly, “It's me, darling, fucking you so hard. And you feel so so good clenching around my cock…”

You belatedly realise he may be touching himself, may have his cock in his hand as he walks you to orgasm. It makes your thighs tremble and clamp around your hands.

“Are you touching yourself too, Ben?”

“Yessss”, he hisses. Below the sound of your joint panting, you can hear the faint sound of skin slapping lightly as he fucks his fist.

It’s that image in your mind - him sprawled naked on a bed, skin sunkissed against the crisp white sheets, in a thick stone-walled Tuscan villa, the scent of wildflowers and the lush sound of crickets wafting through the open shutters - that hurtles you towards completion. Imagining yourself right there with him, gripping the wrought iron bed frame as he fucks so deep you can’t help but scream his name and shudder as it is his fingers snagging over your clit rather than your own.

The next few moments are a frenzied blur as, after some last gasps, you emit a long, loud scream as you come so hard, convulsing around the facsimile of his cock, your clit jumping under your touch, dimly aware he is still streaming filthy, needy encouragements that descend into gruff noises as he follows you over, the tell-tale sound of that final moment when he comes so loud against your eardrums as if he is right there slumped around you, his lips hot on your neck.

There is nothing but gulping breaths as both recover, feeling no shame, just a bone-deep satisfaction that makes you languid and heavy, not wanting to move, just curl up and sleep, a t-shirt of his you grabbed earlier your companion in his absence.

“Fuck I came so hard,” he sounds almost sheepish as it sounds as if he is cleaning up his torso.

“Me too,” you concur, little ripples of fire still running down your legs and arms, oversensitive to any stimuli; even the bedding feels almost too much.

“I want you to come again, but you sound sleepy,” he assesses correctly, and you hum in agreement.

“Too sleepy,” you slur the words as you turn onto your side and fling away the toy to be dealt with another time.

His amused sound is rich and warm. “Curl up, my love,” you once again find yourself carrying out his bidding without conscious thought.

“How long until you are home, Ben?” you mumble after a stifled yawn.

“Thirty-three hours,” you can hear the affectionate, lazy smile as he says it.

“Too long,” you lament gently into his t-shirt, the citrus-woodsy scent of him a comfort.

“Next time, come with me; it's beautiful here,” he murmurs ardently.

“I may love it there too much,” you jest, “I may never want to leave.”

“If you were here with me, I may never want to either,” he imparts softly.

You just hum contentedly. “Will you stay on with me?” you ask quietly, “until we fall asleep?”

“I never planned for anything but,” he responds fondly, a warmth blooming behind your ribs at his words.

And that is how you drift off, whispering sweet nothings as you slip into a restful slumber. The call only disconnects hours later when your batteries run out as you both sleep soundly.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @0x1harmonia0x1

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader

236 notes · View notes

makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: When you accidentally violated Patrick Bateman's personal boundaries, your punishment was just a matter of time.

— CONTAINS: Flirting, teasing, semi-public oral sex (69), light bondage, nipple play, finger sucking, cum swallowing, spanking, Patrick has a dirty mouth, Praise kink, pet names.

— WORDCOUNT: 1.7k

— A/N: This is commission for my dear @r04dk1ll-w4nn4b3! I 'm so happy to be able to share it with you, I hope you like it! 💗

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓

Patrick Bateman was the kind of man who loved absolute perfectionism in everything. His apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side was no exception. Every time you were there, you felt like you were in an art gallery, not to mention his super-modern audio system, which he loved to use.

Thrilled to be in his place, you were looking out the large window in his living room when you heard his soft footsteps behind you.

"Wanna listen to Whitney Houston's new tape, honey?" Patrick purred as he wrapped his hand around your waist. "I bought it today."

"Sure," you replied, covering his palm as it slid down your curvy hips. "I love your taste in music."

Bateman chuckled before pecking your cheek. "Only in music, huh?"

Smugly, he strolled away to turn on the stereo, and then Whitney Houston's amazing voice echoed through the living room.

"Man, her singing is outstanding!" You exclaimed, and your excitement made him grin.

"(Y/N), my dear, can you take glasses for you and me," he crooned playfully as he handed over a bottle of what must have been super expensive wine. "Tim recommended a new brand of wine, I want to try it."

After you nodded, you quickly went to the kitchen and started looking for the glasses you needed. When you noticed a half open cupboard, you couldn't fight your curiosity to sneak inside. Slowly, you turned around to make sure Patrick was not looking, and then you opened it completely, revealing all the stuff inside. When you saw a chainsaw, you couldn't hold back a loud gasp.

"Are you okay?" Bateman's anxiety resounded behind your back and after a few seconds he was already in the kitchen. "Dear..." Patrick stammered as he saw an open cupboard. "What are you doing here?"

"N-nothing, I was just looking for some glasses!"

"Aha," instead of scolding you he just giggled and looked at the chainsaw you couldn't stop staring at. "Do you like things like that?"

"Excuse me?" You stepped back a little, especially when he ran his finger along the metal part of the chainsaw.

"You're so curious, I love it," he suddenly blurted out before closing the cupboard and pulling you into a passionate kiss. "Let's go back to the living room and finally taste the wine."

Possessively, Patrick turned you around and made you move forward, his dark eyes sparkling dangerously as you headed out of the kitchen.

A few days later, Patrick invited you to Craig McDermott's party at his family's big house, which Bateman didn't really find fancy, so you couldn't really understand why he'd brought you here at all; not to mention that he was acting a little... strange almost the whole evening?

"There you are!" you nearly spilled your drink at his sudden voice. "I've been looking for you, my dear."

With a soft smile, you turned around as you felt his strong arms glide across your back. "Did you miss me already?"

"Of course!"

Damn, his full-teeth smile always made you feel things, especially when he touched you like that - barely sensible, only to tease you.

"I thought, maybe we can escape this party for a while?" Bateman whispered in your ear, his large palm already outlining the shape of your cute butt. "My curious little girl..."

His low growl was accompanied with a slight pinch on your ass, which caused your legs to tremble from a sudden surge of heat.

"Uhh, you're such a tease!" You replied, breathing heavily.

Without saying anything, Patrick just looped his arm around your waist and gestured for you to follow him; you were a little scared but excited because this man was always so fucking unpredictable.

Later, the two of you went upstairs, kissing and cradling each other all the way to what was supposed to be a guest room.

"P-Patrick," you gasped and shivered as he started to attack your neck the moment you entered the room. "You didn't close the door?"

As soon as you asked that question, Patrick let out a raspy grunt and pushed you onto the bed behind you. "Why should I?"

His eyes glowed with lust as he saw a hint of fear on your beautiful face.

"What's the matter, my dear?" he advanced on you, his huge frame lilting with each step. "Get over here, sweetheart…I wanna play with you."

Squawking, you tried to move away from him, but he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer, slipping under your skirt to reveal your black panties.

"WAIT!" you whimpered in a mild panic, afraid someone would get in. "Patrick..." a muffled moan fell from your dry lips as you felt his tongue on your inner thigh. "W-why can't you wait till we get home?"

Bateman burst out laughing and spread your legs wider as you continued to resist him. "You know, I thought you liked the thrill of being caught..." he cooed to you as his long fingers pulled at your underwear, the friction against your feverish clit making you jerk and moan. "Ohh, what was that?"

"Mmm, Patrick..." your face burned from the inside as he did it again, tugging harder on your panties, rubbing your sensitive bud through the wet fabric. "What... what if someone comes in?"

"I'm sure anyone who comes in will be pleased with the scene they see," Patrick groaned and licked your pussy through your underwear, sending shivers down your spine, "Now be a good girl and take your punishment as you’re supposed to."

Shocked, you stopped everything and looked at him. "Punishment for what?"

"For your curiosity, of course," Bateman snickered and turned you, so that your head hung over the edge of the bed. "You know the expression 'curiosity killed the cat'?"

With that, Patrick unbuckled his belt and then his pants, your heavy breathing filling the room faster than you could even notice. Huffing, you wanted to protest again, but he didn't let you as he slid two fingers into your mouth. Amused, Bateman admired the way you twitched on the bed as he pushed his digits further down your throat, nearly choking you, while his other hand unfastened his tie only to wrap it around your wrists.

"Fuck, that mouth certainly craves more," Patrick murmured, pulling your top down, so he could cup your small shapely breast. "Good, good...keep sucking my fingers."

"Mmhm," you mewled around his digits, taking them as deep as you could. "A-awww, Gos-shhh!"

An electric shock ran through your trembling body as you sensed his warm mouth around your hard nipple, the way his strong tongue teased your tender flesh taking you so high.

"Jesus, you're so kinky," his raspy growl induced the tight knot in your lower abdomen to pulse. "Ahhh, you like the things I do to you?"

"Yes...P-Patrick..." you hiccuped as he placed his knee on the bed and began to lower himself, licking all the way down to your pubic bone. "Mmm..." Bateman kissed your mound briefly before moving your panties aside and sucking on your sensitive nub.

"Shit, you taste so delicious, my dear," he hummed, his face buried between your legs while he stroked himself to keep his dick hard. "'C'mon, I wanna drink all of your sweet juices."

Shaking, you moaned louder as he pulled his fingers out of your wet mouth, your saliva dripping down your chin. Right now, you didn't really care that someone could hear you, his tongue didn't give you a chance to save your clarity.

"Patrick...p-please, ahh!" you almost sobbed as he tongue fucked you, licking your soft inner walls and holding your hips wide open. "Ahh!"

"Imagine someone coming in, right now!" Patrick husked after tugging on your swollen clit with a nasty popping sound that almost made you cum. "Show me how you can use that pretty mouth of yours..."

First, Bateman began to draw his thick cock against your wet lips, then he bent down and made you lapping at his heavy sac. A primal growl escaped his broad chest as you took his balls almost completely in your mouth and sucked them with all the passion you had.

"F-fuck, yes...mmm," he moaned and then dived back between your legs to continue devouring your succulent pussy. "Good girl, arghh-so fucking good!"

Patrick was losing control with every pitiful moan you made, his hips thrusting hard into your face, literally pinning you against the bed. Fuck, people outside the room would definitely hear your miserable whimpering as you were about to gag from how deep he was fucking your mouth.

"Mmghm!" You kicked your legs in the air as your lungs burned from the need for oxygen.

Even when he allowed you to rest and breathe, Bateman was still grinding against your face, his pulsating dick brushing along your wet cheek as he was so damn close while his tongue toyed your little tip.

"Pat....Patrick!" Your voice cracked as you felt a burning sensation on your ass as his big palm mercilessly slapped it.

God, this was already too much for you, but then this bastard decided to nip at your sore clit and you thought you were going to pass out from the crazy mixture of pain and bliss.

"Go ahead, honey," he growled against your slit, squeezing your hip almost to the red marks on your soft skin. "I want to feel that tight little pussy throb on the tip of my tongue!"

"Aaahh...I can't...can't take it anymore...MMM!" you yelped as your climax washed over you like a tsunami. "A-wwww...GOSH!”

Bateman could listen to your high-pitched cries for an eternity, and he didn't care if the whole house could hear you at that moment as he slurped at your lascivious pussy, because he didn't want to waste a single drop of your delicious flavor.

Still shaking, you let him bottom your bruised mouth once again and Patrick was face fucking you almost savagely without any mercy until he reached his peak as you milked his aching cock so perfectly, literally drowning in his hot cum but you swallowed all of it like a good girl was supposed to.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

262 notes · View notes

aisquaredchoco · 1 year

Text

2to3 Fun-Kadelic Frequency Stereo

I wanted this cute stereo in TS3 so badly, and finally after a hell of a process to convert it, here it is!

Three CAStable channels, found in Electronics>Audio with a price of §375, containing the same catalog description from the TS2 counterpart. A bit of a high poly for a TS3 object (1976 vertices/1260 faces) but still passable.

And yeah of course it's functional..

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare | Mediafire

UPDATE 16 Sep 2023: PLEASE REDOWNLOAD

please forgive me it took five months to fix this 🥺

**the sound waves effects' position is now modified so that they go directly from the speakers themselves, see comparision below.

old:

new:

#ts3cc #download #dl:buy #electronics #2to3 #ts2 to ts3 #ts3 cc finds #sims 3 cc

247 notes · View notes

the-technicolor-whiscash · 15 days

Text

Oh yeah I realized after talking to my brother abt this that not everyone knows this is something you can do (at least with an iPhone though androids probably also have this feature)

Is one of your earbuds a little busted and quieter than the other? Does one of your ears hear sounds a little more loudly than the other? Do you want one side of your headphones to play sound louder? Well look no further.

In the settings of your phone, search “audio balance” and click “left/right stereo balance.” It should bring up a menu that looks like this

Now, by using the slider, you can adjust the balance of the audio on your headphones. My left earbud is quieter than my right, so by adjusting the balance to make the left play louder and the right play quieter, they now both have roughly the same level of volume. This works (afaik) for every type of headphone, whether it’s Bluetooth or wired. A great little trick to save you some irritation.

#the whiscash administration

17 notes · View notes

overthedub · 1 year

Audio

A rare 19-2000 remix from a now-defunct website (UKFUNK.com). It’s got a really early 2000s electronic vibe that I like.

Audio taken from Blur Archive Project’s archive folder (with their permission), which you can find for yourself here:

https://mega.nz/folder/FNlQjQjA#rOWvMfq6rmdmI3W7ScOgSQ

#19-2000 #Gorillaz #remixes #Stereo I Want it On (Audio)

10 notes · View notes

tsukumo-nya · 10 months

Text

Lupin The Third 56th Anniversary!!! 🎊🎉

I drew the big image of Lupin on the right and the "56" last night, and put together a collage for the background of all of the drawings I've made of Lupin thus far (not counting the animations)!✨️🎨

______

On this day 56 years ago, Lupin III was first published in Weekly Manga Action!

The manga became an instant hit in Japan, and the series is still going on strong even today, having several manga series, comics, anime series, animated & live action movies, and video games!

It was among the first manga and anime series aimed towards adults, it's the first anime to use stereo audio, and series creator Monkey Punch was the ones who helped usher in the use of digital art and digital illustration.

Lupin III even inspired and was responsible for characters like TV reporter April O'Neal from the TMNT TV shows and films, Dr. Eggman & Rouge The Bat from Sonic The Hedgehog, Inspector Gadget which originally started from a Sci-Fi Lupin III spin off show that was planned (Lupin VIII), Persona 5, Cowboy Bebop, Outlaw Star, Aria the Scarlet Ammo and many more. Lupin III even inspired some of the stuff you see in Indiana Jones and the Tom Cruz Mission Impossible movies, including the iconic vault stunt from his first MI movie.

Lupin III is an iconic series, one that despite starting in the 1960's, manages to always stay relevant and epic, and always comes out on top no matter what time period it is. The main character himself even prides himself on that!

So Happy 56th Anniversary to the franchise!!!✨️💎

Anyways, sorry for rambling on for so long, and thank you very much for taking the time to read this! ^v^

_____________________

Do NOT use, edit or repost this, without my permission!!!

If you want to do either of those things, just ask me for permission to do so beforehand, and I’ll get back to you

Also here is the collage in the background

46 notes · View notes

gubbles-owo · 10 months

Text

y'all it is hyperfocus scream time

Alright so sporadic Arknights posting is cool and all, but tumble here is THE website for info dumping your weird fascinations unto the world. I worry enough about being annoying or overbearing all the damn time, so fuck it, it's time to scream about something I love. I've always loved music, and I'm fascinated by splitting it apart and studying it, figuring out what makes things tick. One of my favorite ways to do this is via stems-- that is, when a fully mastered track is broken down into audio files for separate instruments or parts: vocals, drums, bass, guitar, synths, all that. This way you get to hear all the lil intricacies you might've otherwise missed! Unfortunately most music out there doesn't have stems just lying around, but sometimes we're graced with the next best thing: instrumentals. There's a lot to it but TL;DR, we can pull some fancy phase shenanigans between a full and instrumental version of a track to isolate the vocals! It's not perfect, there'll be bits of the full mix poking through, but it's enough to catch some cool things you might not have otherwise heard. Buckle up bitches, cause I'm gonna take you for a ride. Today I'm gonna take you through some of the intricacies of one stellar vocal performance: Suisei's TEMPLATE.

youtube

Let's get started!

In fear of the boundless wrath of the copyright gods, I don't wanna post any bits of the og or instrumental raw, so I'll reference parts in the original with timestamps like this (0:00)! I highly recommend you first listen to the song in full, then reference the noted segments in the og as we go through the audio examples. I really want you to appreciate how cool this all is xD To give you an idea of what our instrumental phase cancelling sounds like, here's a short bit from verse one (0:15 - 0:25)

Neat, huh? Already we're hearing the slightest touch of reverb that mostly gets buried in the full mix. It's subtle, but it gives a sense of depth and space that'd be noticeable if missing. As far as performance goes, I love the tension of power in this, the swell of intensity followed by reeling it back in. It's subtle at first but it really evolves as the song progresses. Let's dive a bit further. Here's the vocals for the first chorus (0:34 - 0:59)

Alright now we've got some interesting stuff going on. I wanna stress here that Suisei is a phenomenal vocalist, and the sense of careful control over power and projection she's got starts to show here. Specific syllables are thrown out like a gut punch, and just as quickly retract in this delicate weaving of intensity, and it is so goddamn cool. We also get to hear some harmonies that accompany the lead vocals, but they're still a bit buried under that lead. What if I told you there's a way we could further isolate those? Another technical TL;DR but in addition to left and right, we can also split stereo audio into mid and sides. Most modern mixed music will have lead vocals straight up the center, while backing harmonies are either doubled or effected to trickle out to the sides, to give that lead room to breathe. So what does this same chorus sound like if we listen to just the sides?

Okay so right off the bat we hear this harmony that has a graceful snap upwards to its last note. To my extremely limited jp knowledge it's something like: Boku wa zutto kurushi kattan da That kattan da harmony is beautiful in its own right, and it's not something you get to hear on its own. (also if u know better than me plz correct me if i'm wrong on that jp for the love of god) And after that? It turns out the whole chorus has a layer underneath that's sung an octave below the lead. Like. Holy shit. To my limited knowledge I don't know if we ever get to hear Suisei sing this low in isolation, so this is wild to hear on its own. Her tone and inflection is way different here. Notice the power and projection isn't really there, how it's a bit more lowkey? It doesn't get in the way of the powerful lead, and helps round out the bottom end into a wall of sound when combined. You don't notice it much in the full track, but you'd definitely notice its absence. See, often with music I do this hyperfixation thing where I latch onto the tiniest details imaginable and listen to them over and over again, just to appreciate how enormously fucking cool they are. This low octave chorus is no exception. I heard it when first listening to the full track, but it was awesome to finally hear it in (relative) isolation. ...when excitedly showing this all to some friends, one of them said "gubs you are so fucking down bad." And you know what? She was goddamned right.

Moving onto something a lil smaller, there's an additional higher octave for a moment in verse two (1:11 - 1:15)

And the same thing with the sides isolated:

Simple things like this really help add texture and dynamics to a performance. A harmony that persists for an entire song is often more boring than having it weave in and out! It's especially effective in helping to emphasize certain lyrical bits. The 2nd chorus has different lyrics, but from an arrangement standpoint it's mostly the same as the first. Let's fast forward to the start of the bridge (1:42 - 2:01):

This part isn't particularly buried underneath the mix, but I thought it was worth isolating anyway. I really want to point out how beautiful the additional higher melody is in the second half.

Alright, it's time for one of my favorite parts of this track. Let's take a listen to the latter part of the bridge (2:10 - 2:20):

...do you hear that? Do you fucking hear that?? There is something incredible in here. Let's isolate it.

That last line, with the lead taken out of the mix, has not only a harmony sung an octave above, but also an octave below. Holy fuck. Okay. I need you to understand. Being able to sing the same line in 3!! THREE!!! Different octaves! IS FUCKING WILD. For fuck's sake the melody line itself nearly spans an octave in range!? God. My fucking god. I'm sorry for losing my shit over this (not sorry at all) but this demonstrates an incredibly flexible range, and that is not something you'll hear flexed quite as hard as it is here. I've only heard a handful of examples of this sort of thing before. I adore this shit so much. I am such a gay fucking loser oh my g od *ahem* alright let's wrap this up by listening to this fantastic outro segment (2:42 - 3:01):

Personally I tend to dislike when a slowed, half-tempo chorus is replaced by/followed with a full-speed section in an effort to ramp up intensity. Speed doesn't equate to power, and if anything, I feel that a slower feel is often more methodical and powerful. But here? The chorus to this song is sublime, and it feels like all three have been building up this boiling tension that finally explodes in this segment. It's so fucking good. And while she still demonstrates a more than competent grasp on how to project and emphasize, Suisei gets to let lose and go all out here. And for funsies, here's the backing harmony behind that whole segment:

I love shit like this. I cannot sing to save my life (god i wish i could) but over the years I've picked up a lot on how different vocalists construct their backing harmonies. It's not something most people think about, but carefully crafted layered vocals can really enhance, emphasize, and expand on a performance. They add so so much color and personality to an artist's style. Fuck y'all this shit is so cool.

_____________________________ Welp, that wraps it up for this one!! I hope you got to hear and learn something new, maybe pique or cultivate an appreciation for the intricacies that often bury themselves in the mixes you listen to. Or maybe you just thought it was neat, that's fine too xD I'd love to scream more and do similar breakdowns of other songs and vocalists, so I dunno, I may or may not already be plotting another one of these :3c

#hoshimachi suisei #hololive #music analysis #gub

28 notes · View notes

commodorez · 5 months

Note

Anything I should know before trying to set up a microphone for my laptop the first time?

That all comes down to what kind it is, but for the moment I'm going to assume something for general purpose consumer use. For the moment I will demonstrate with Windows 7 because I'm old and stubborn, but 10 gives you many of the same options in the fancy newer layout. Just look for similar terms as you go. I haven't used a mic on a Mac or a Linux machine in a very long time to get specific to that.

If it's USB, plug it in and hopefully it sets itself to become the default device.

If it's a classic computer microphone with a 3.5mm/1/8" stereo TRS (that's Tip Ring Sleeve) audio jack, you want the connector on your laptop that might be indicated with either a microphone symbol OR it might be color coded pink (do they still do that for laptops sometimes?). Just plug it in. Don't plug it into the Line In port, that's not what you're after here (it might be light blue).

You want to check in your sound devices section (either in control panel/settings, or selected by the speaker icon on your taskbar next to the time).

If it isn't already the default, first go to the Recording tab, then select the device in the list, and click "Set Default". After that, you may want to do some level adjustment, so select "properties". From there, you can go to the Levels tab and adjust accordingly.

For either type, it doesn't hurt to do a test recording with something and play it back, see how it sounds. Tweak as needed.

If you're actively hearing yourself while you're testing it, that might be because you have "Listen to this device" selected in the Listen tab (just to the left of the Levels tab)

Individual programs will let you select which device you would like to use as your audio input, and it doesn't necessarily have to be your default device.

I can't really speak to using bluetooth wireless audio devices, as the only one I've ever used worked better with the accompanying USB wireless dongle on my work laptop. More or less if it's connected, it will give you the same options as before

I know modern earbuds and some varieties of headset have TRRS 3.5mm connectors carrying audio for the headphones and the microphone on the same connector. You'll have to check if your laptop has a connector that can accept that (check the spec sheet), otherwise you'll need to find an appropriate splitter cable to make it work in a standard TRS microphone connector.

Hopefully that answers your question. If it doesn't feel free to get more specific.

#hopefully im not being condescending either #yes i still daily windows 7

12 notes · View notes

eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 1 year

Note

so I love your playlists and the guilty pleasure mix tapes is hilarious would you do something based on your finding them and eddie hearing you play them

Warnings: Fluff no use of y/n implied dom/sub undertones if you squint warning of spankings over all pretty tame.

Based on this playlist

Credit to @stuart-townsend for the gif.

Today was like any usual day at the munson trailer on Saturdays. Eddie was outside working on his van while uncle wayne was back on days at the plant. You and eddie haven't been dating long but you do spend a lot of nights over at his place. Eddie tells you all the time you might as well move in since you do the cooking and cleaning while you're there. Which is exactly what you're doing today after breakfast you kicked eddie outside so you can get to cleaning. With just a big tshirt on and your hair in a clip you start cleaning the trailer.

After about an hour cleaning you decided you wanted some music playing to help the process seem less tedious. Walking into eddies very messy room which is calls "organized chaos." You rummage through countless tapes until you find one wedged all the in the back of his stand. Picking it up it says guilty pleasures scribbled on the side. Giving a quizzical look hoping it's not some audio sex tape you pop it in his stereo system. What you don't expect next is to hear "dancing queen by Abba" start blasting through his large speakers. Immediately you start laughing because how on earth is the self proclaimed "most metal guy to ever metal " secretly loving Abba. Skipping to the next song suddenly Africa by toto was blaring in your ears.

The music was so loud you hadn't noticed eddie standing in the doorway with a crazed look on his face. "What are you doing sweetheart?" You hear him barely over the loud music. Suddenly he shuts it off and turns to you with a panicked look. You look to him with big worried eyes "I'm sorry baby I was looking for some music to help me get through cleaning" Eddie looks at you and tries hard to hide his smirk at your worried face. He inches closer to you and teases "were you being a bad girl going through my things hm?" You shook your head no looking up at him with your doe eyes. He just laughs and scoop you up in a bug bear hug kissing you on the tip of your nose. "You better not tell anyone about this or it's 15 spanks for you missy." Then he says "I have you know metal heads happen to love Abba by the way. " You give him a big grin rolling your eyes "suuuure they do." "Do they also love Sade as well?" Smirking at you again "nah she's just hot" And with that he slaps your ass before heading back out to work on his van. Leaving you there to process what you just discovered about your boyfriend.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #request #eddie munson fluff #my writing

90 notes · View notes

brokehorrorfan · 3 months

Text

Blu-ray Review: Unlawful Entry

Box office draw is anything but predictable, but Hollywood sure likes to hedge its bets. From Scream's teen slasher revival to Paranormal Activity's found footage trend to Marvel's superhero craze, a novel concept that over-performs is almost guaranteed to yield similar projects until audiences tire of the fad. Fatal Attraction launched a cycle of racy thrillers in the early '90s that included the likes of Basic Instinct, Single White Female, The Hand that Rocks the Cradle, Sleeping with the Enemy, and Cape Fear.

While not as well remembered as the aforementioned efforts, Unlawful Entry remains an effective entry in the subgenre from journeyman director Jonathan Kaplan (The Accused, ER). Lewis Colick's (October Sky, Charlie St. Cloud) script may traverse familiar tropes, but Kurt Russell (The Thing), Ray Liotta (Goodfellas), and Madeleine Stowe (12 Monkeys) gracefully elevate the material with their performances.

Bookended by tense home invasion sequences, the 1992 film opens with a burglar breaking into the upscale home of recent Los Angeles transplants Michael (Russell) and Karen Carr (Stowe). Although ultimately unharmed, they're left shaken up by the ordeal after Michael is forced to watch helplessly as the assailant holds Karen at knifepoint. Responding officer Pete Davis (Liotta) goes out of his way to help them feel safer.

Pete presents himself as the sincere lawman at first, but it quickly becomes clear to both the viewer and Michael that he's unhinged. He grows increasingly obsessed with Karen, invading not only the couple's home but also their lives as he does everything in his considerable power to take Michael out of the picture. The third act is exactly the suspenseful thrill-ride you'd want from a movie of this ilk.

While a lesser film would pit Russell and Liotta against one another in a testosterone-fueled stand-off, Unlawful Entry takes a more interesting approach. Although their conflict is not without machismo, their personalities repel one another on a granular level. Beyond coveting his wife, Pete has no respect for Michael. In Pete's mind, he is the alpha male getting his hands dirty and protecting the streets, so he deserves Michael's prosperous life.

Liotta is effectively disarming at first before unraveling into a deranged stalker. Russell is as charming as ever, but he's not afraid to show vulnerability. Stowe brings a cleverness to the damsel in distress. The cast also includes Roger E. Mosley (Magnum P.I.) as Pete's level-headed partner, Ken Lerner (The Goldbergs) as Michael's lawyer, Dick Miller (Gremlins) as an impound clerk, and a young Djimon Hounsou (Guardians of the Galaxy) as a prisoner.

Unlawful Entry is now invading homes on Blu-ray via Scream Factory exclusively on ShoutFactory.com. While the company's limited releases are typically reserved for titles with a more narrow appeal, Unlawful Entry's allotment of 1,620 units sold out in a matter of days, prompting them to increase the run to 2,600 (which brings into question the point of limiting it in the first place, but I digress).

The film is presented in high definition from an existing transfer with 5.1 Surround DTS-HD Master Audio and 2.0 Stereo DTS-HD Master Audio options. The quality is aggressively fine; it certainly won't win any competitions against a modern 4K master, but it's a welcome improvement over the old DVD.

Despite its limited status, new special features were produced: a 28-minute interview Kaplan, who sets the stage by highlighting his genre-hopping career before focusing on Unlawful Entry; an interview with cinematographer Jamie Anderson (Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Small Soldiers); and an featurette in which music historian Daniel Schweiger breaks down the score by James Horner (Aliens, Avatar).

Archival special features include: a DVD commentary by Kaplan, who notes how he learned how to reflect the subjectivity of human experience in film by watching Alfred Hitchcock and details how the Rodney King riots impacted the movie; a vintage EPK-style featurette with snippets from Kaplan, Russell, Liotta, Stowe, and more; the theatrical trailer; and two TV spots.

In a time when police misconduct is caught on camera on a near-daily basis, Unlawful Entry is all the more relevant over 30 years removed from its original release. Coupled with a severely underrated performance from the late Liotta, the '90s thriller gem begging for rediscovery.

Unlawful Entry is available now on Blu-ray via Scream Factory.

#unlawful entry #kurt russell #ray liotta #madeline stowe #90s movies #1990s movies #scream factory #shout factory #dvd #gift #review #article #jonathan kaplan #dick miller #djimon hounsou

7 notes · View notes