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#top black owned clothing lines
heartyearning · 1 year
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one of the funniest things when you start studying theatre design (at our school anyway) is that u come in and for your first few scenography designs youre like im gonna use screens ,,,,, —and projection.... this is how i’m going to enhance the impact of my performance 🤯🧠💯 & then you go to theatre productions in which they use screens and projection & ur like All My Teachers Were Right This Sucks Severe Ass
#^so says guy who crucially is using screens in his concept rn#but its different bc the screen itself is the medium as opposed to enhancing theatre cause like the thing is#and this sounds fucking pretentious until you actually pay attn to it#but the thing is that when ur trying to balance screen/projection with live action ur projection is going to eat shit absolutely every time#nothing beats the tension of live theatre & if youre attempting to mix it too often it'll end up in comparison#(this is if you use the projection cut n dry i once saw a performance where the projection was done really well actually#but it wasnt so much a balance btwn the two things as it was like. certain scenes were a video the performer just danced along to#and it was more so about his individual experience vs the experience others have that he cant articulate on his own#it was rly fucking good it was called the history of the korean western theatre it was stellar)#but also like the thing i just left was an opera that used screens practically instead of doing anything on the stage#which is SO bewildering to me#there were a few more things wrong with it but the biggest thing to me was like#in these videos they were showing (during the performance of the scenes) it was basically the scene that was playing#except with an attempt at a real costume and somewhat more of an effort when it comes to proxemics#whereas on stage itself it was black clothes (not even interesting shapes) and people talking At each other#which not only does this become a really boring back drop for an even more boring live action part (which is nevertheless still more#compelling than the video) they were also speaking the lines in the videos just with the sound removed#so often it felt like you were watching out of sync videos#and also like even the costumes in the videos were boring as hell bc it was just patterns printed on top of fabric#which can work at times but not like this it was all so .... 2 dimensional but like quite literally#its not even that bad to be honest like ive seen far worse things its just a lot more egregious cause its unreal expensive and also doesnt#even seem to try#(+ im quite sure the director of this opera is my theatre history professor's dad & i am yelling & screaming imagining the family dinners)#(like all the actors were also white & it was the story of the indian queen which is abt mexico & peruvian incas & my prof is like. so#hyper socially aware this wouldnt ever ever ever fly with her#plus she's really creative & we saw a play by her last semester and its night & fucking day love)
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rynbutt · 20 days
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pierced. | spencer reid.
Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.
you can find the other parts on my masterlist.
cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr
a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3
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You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.
Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.
You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).
You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.
"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."
There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.
You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.
You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"
"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.
Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.
You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.
Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.
"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.
"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.
"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"
"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.
Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"
"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"
"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.
"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"
"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"
"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.
"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.
"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.
"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.
"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.
It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.
You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.
"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"
Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."
"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.
"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.
"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.
"Spencer," he muttered.
"Huh?"
"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.
"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."
"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."
You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.
"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"
"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.
"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.
"So... you do?" You asked.
"...No, I don't." He muttered.
"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.
"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.
"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.
"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.
"Bye, Dr. Reid!"
Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.
"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.
"Shut up!"
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reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.
dividers by @cafekitsune
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the-merry-otter · 1 year
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If you’re on mobile, you may have to click on the images for better quality!
Plain text version with image descriptions is under the cut.
Please note that the image descriptions will be reflecting what I am trying to convey with the photo, rather than the total look of the photo itself. For example if I am trying to describe a dress, the hair colour of the person wearing it will be ignored. This is to reduce the total word count of the descriptions, because I have a lot of images to describe. On this note, I have also streamlined the information as much as possible.
[Plain text description:]
First slide: Mariota’s Guide to 14th Century (Medieval) Women’s Clothing
This slideshow is brought to you by @the-merry-otter on tumblr
ALRIGHT LISTEN UP MOTHERS AND FUCKERS. I’m bored, so today we’re going to be talking about medieval clothing. Specifically fourteenth century English clothing because that’s what I’m good at. (Source: trust me bro I’m a reenacter). Also this is all female stuff - sorry masc leaning folks, I’ll get to you someday!
Disclaimer: this is not completely comprehensive or nuanced in the slightest, it’s just a quick overview guide. Do your own research xoxo.
[Image ID: to the left is a picture of a woman in a light blue dress and a pink hood gazing out at a lake. The hood has a skirt that falls over her shoulders, and there is along thin pipe attached to the back of the hood that dangles to her knees. The edges of the hood are decorated with burgundy crochet. The picture is captioned “beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, literal goals.” End ID]
[Image ID: To the right is a picture of a typical renn faire outfit. It has a white poofy underdress, a black corset, and a brown skirt. There is a red cross drawn over the image. It is captioned “very pretty, but definitely not medieval sorry!” End ID]
Second slide: Underwear (ooh la la)
Now with nasty pocketses
[Image ID: a picture of gollum, from lord of the rings, snarling in disgust. There is a line in The Hobbit where he asks Bilbo what he has in his nasty little pocketses, which is what I am referencing. End ID]
So, corsets, stays, and shapewear in general kind of wasn’t a thing yet. So your underwear was a shift, which was awesome because it was also your pajamas. They were usually made of linen, though some might have been made of cotton is you were rich.
[Image ID: A plain white linen garment laid out flat on the floor. It is a dress that hangs to about knee length, with elbow length sleeves. An arrow points to it with text reading “this is a shift”. End ID]
There is evidence for supportive shifts for busy support, like this one from the fourteenth century!
[Image ID: a second shift, worn by a female presenting person. It is laced up the front, and is a lot tighter and more fitted, especially around the bust. It has straps instead of sleeves. End ID]
There’s also this bra like fragment found in Austria, but that is a whole debate so.
[Image ID: A bra-like garment fitted to a mannequin. It seems to be made out of white linen, coloured with time. The left cup is damaged, and overall the garment looks incomplete. End ID]
Then, over the shift, yet under your main dress went your pockets, which tied on at the waist. Your dresses had slits do that you could get at your stuff without flashing everyone lol.
[Image ID: A picture of medieval pockets. They are upside down teardrop shaped, but the point is flat and is part of the waist ties. There are slits in the side up the top to access the inside. They are cream coloured with bright floral embroidery. The caption reads “these bad boys can fit so many cool pebbles.” End ID]
[Image ID: A young female-presenting person wearing medieval clothing. She has her hands in the pocket slits of her dress. They are just below hip height. End ID]
Third slide: your dress, or the cotehardie. (Pronounced coat hardy)
Over the shift you put your dress, sometimes referred to as either a kirtle or cotehardie. 14th century people started actually form-fitting their clothes more than previous centuries. These needed fastenings, which were mostly lacings (spiral lacings specifically), or buttons made of either metal or cloth, used at the front of the dress from neckline to waist, and on the sleeves from elbow to wrist, with exceptions of course.
(Sidenote: fuck sleeves, all my homies hate sleeves)
[Image ID: a woman in a warm yellow dress to the left of the text. The dress is constructed simply, with a single piece of fabric used for the length of the body so there is no waist seam. The skirt is widened by inserting four triangles, one each at the front and back, and one on each side. The front has buttons made of the same fabric as the dress, that go down to the belt at the waist. The sleeves have similar buttons from wrist to elbow, on the outside of the arm. The woman is also wearing a liripipe hood. End ID]
Dresses seemed to be mostly wool, though I often use linen for mine because I live in Australia and it’s hot in summer and I don’t want to die. Most often they weren’t lined (that is what the underwear was for).
[Image ID: in the top left of the slide is a woman wearing a green woollen dress. It is constructed the same as the previous image, except it has spiral lacing on the front instead of buttons. The sleeves are fastened by three small buttons. She is wearing a simple and veil. End ID]
[Image ID: the top right of the slide shows a woman in a teal coloured dress, similar to the one before. This one has metal buttons at the sleeves and down the front. She wears a veil only. End ID]
The neckline of these dresses was usually round or an oval shape, and some manuscripts have it so wide that it falls off the shoulders slightly.
[Image ID: A photo of a medieval manuscript, depicting six medieval ladies in a row holding hands. The neckline of their dresses is wide enough that the tops of their shoulders are visible. The image is captioned “me and the girls on a Friday night”. End ID]
Clothing was a lot more colourful than the movies would have us believe lol.
[Image ID: Three women, each in dresses similar to the ones before. To the left is a forest green, the middle one is bright saffron yellow, and the one to the right is a vibrant tomato red. End ID].
Fourth slide: Dress two; electric boogaloo
[Image ID: Merry and Pippin from lord of the rings. Above them, meme text reads “we’ve had one, yes”, and then continues below with “but what about second dress?”. End ID]
You could also wear an overdress, which was usually of a contrasting colour and had shorter sleeves.
As well as fashion, they would have been used for extra warmth, and so were usually made of wool.
[Image ID: a woman in a maroon coloured dress like the ones on the previous slide. The sleeves stop just above her elbow, revealing a blue dress underneath. End ID].
Common people would have only owned a couple of different outfits, as fabric was super expensive.
[Image ID: various pictures of women with examples of an overdress. They are all constructed the same as the overdress, but with shorter sleeves that reveal a second sleeve of a different colour underneath. End ID]
A common late thirteenth to mid fourteenth century overdress was the ladies surcoat, which had big holes instead of sleeves.
Belts would have been worn underneath the surcoat.
[Image ID: three photos of women wearing surcoats. They are normal dresses, except there is a large D shape cut out of either side, leaving a large hole from the shoulder to below the hip. They have no buttons down the front. One of the surcoats is made of red brocade, and obviously belongs to an upper-class impression. End ID].
Fifth slide: Hair and headwear
Hair was worn braided and pinned up, with a coif (cap) and either a wimple or veil, or both. The wimple and/or veil were usually pinned to the coif, or secured on a band of fabric around the head.
Veils would be either oval, or a D shape. Wimples were rectangular. A wimple goes under the chin and a veil goes over your head.
[Image ID: a close up of a woman wearing a wimple. It is made of a light fabric, likely silk. The wimple wraps under her chin and is secured at the back of her head. A narrow band of fabric or possibly leather circles her brow, which would have been used to secure the wimple. End ID.]
[Image ID: A picture of YouTuber Morgan Donner wearing a wimple and veil. The wimple wraps under her chin, and the veil is placed on top of her head, draping down past her shoulders. It does not cover her face. Loops of hair are visible either side of her face. End ID]
All the headwear would be made of linen, thin wool, or silk, depending on class. The veils could also be made really fancy by ruffling the front edge or by attaching pearls.
[Image ID: a woman in a wimple and half-circle veil. The edge of the veil that frames her face is elaborately ruffled. The edge of a coif is visible under the veil. End ID]
I ride the bus in my medieval gear a lot because of events, and way too many people think I’m Amish because of my veil. It’s honestly just funny at this point. I should keep a tally.
[Image ID: a woman wearing a St Birgitta’s coif, pinning a wimple at the back of her head. The coif is a simple white linen cap that encloses the head, with a line of lace down the centre of the head. It is secured with a loop of linen around the head. End ID].
[Image ID: a picture of someone with plaits that have been pinned around the head like a crown. It is captioned “you could also pin your hair up like this”. End ID]
Working women might have just wrapped their head in a scarf instead, fuck this fancy shit right?
[Image ID: a woman in a headscarf that has been twisted and then looped around the front of her head. It is captioned #girlboss. End ID].
Fake braids were a thing! Blonde hair in particular was very fashionable, and bleaching or fake braids were sometimes used to achieve that.
[Image ID: two fake braids made of a coarse fibre. They are blonde in colour, and are looped like a hairstyle seen on many of the reenactors. They have white ribbons attached to the top end to help secure them to the head. End ID]
Sixth slide: Cloaks and hoods
These would have actually been two seperate garments! Integrated hoods on cloaks didn’t actually become a thing until the … seventeenth century or so? (Citation needed).
Cloaks were a lot simpler than the typical cloak we think of nowadays. Often they were just a rectangle of wool, or by the fourteenth century, sometimes a half circle.
They were almost always wool as far as I know, and were generally fastened by a cloak pin or buttons.
[Image ID: a metal cloak pin. It is a circle with a small opening at one point. A long pin is attached via a loop, allowing it to slide along the pin. It can fit through the opening in the circle. To use one, you would gather the fabric on the pin, and then slot the circle over the pin and then turn it, so the fabric is trapped between circle and pin. This is much easier to demonstrate than describe. The picture is captioned “these bad boys are the real MVP’s though”. End ID].
[Image ID: a diagram showing the construction of the bocksten man cloak. It is a half circle pieced together by laying strips of fabric together. In the centre of the flat side, a half circle is cut out for the neck. End ID]
[Image ID: a reconstruction of the bocksten man cloak. It is orange wool, and lined with an off-white linen. It is fastened on the right shoulder by three fabric buttons. It would fall to just above the wearers knees. End ID].
Women’s hoods could be short and open, or with a longer skirt and closed with buttons. Liripipe (pronounced leery-pipe) hoods were named for the tube of fabric that dangled off the back of your hood, varying in length. As well as a fashion statement, it could also be wrapped around the neck like a scarf if it got cold.
Hoods were nearly always wool I’m pretty sure, though they were often lined with linen, silk, or cotton.
[General description: a short liripipe hood would be open, with the bottom only reaching your shoulders. They were made from a single piece of fabric that would wrap over your head, with the seam down the centre back of your head. It was flared at the bottom by inserting triangular gores. At the front edge near your face there would be a strip jutting out that went from one side of your chin, over your head, and down to the other side. This would usually be folded back, revealing the lining colour. The bottom of the hood could either just reach the base of your neck, or reach down to just past your shoulders. The former would usually be open at the front, with fastenings optional. The latter option with the longer skirt was almost always able to be fastened up the front with fabric buttons. The liripipe itself was a thin flat tube of fabric fastened at the centre top back of the hood. End ID]
Fun fact, 90% of why I decided to reenact the fourteenth century specifically was because of liripipe hoods.
Seventh slide: Feet (not in a weird way)
Hose were used to keep your legs warm. For women they were usually knee height, and fastened just underneath it with a garter or tie.
[Image ID: a single light yellow hose, belted beneath the knee with a leather garter. The seam is down the centre back of the leg going all the way to your toes, and then around the top of the foot in front of where it connects to your leg. End ID]
Hose usually would have been made from wool, and were cut on the diagonal (bias) of the fabric to get the maximum stretch possible from the fabric. They still were looser than modern tights are though!
Knitted socks were also a thing I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know enough about them. Sorry!
Shoes were simple, usually referred to as turnshoes because of how they were made. Fun fact: the lack of foot support means that turnshoes are similar to going barefoot in terms of how you walk. Some reenactors love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent lol.
[Image ID: a pair of turnshoes made of dark leather. They have a strap that would fasten around the front of the ankle, similar to some modern shoes. The toes are pointed, and it is captioned “pointy toes were fashionable, especially for men”. End ID].
Because shoes were really hard to waterproof, (ask me how I know), and didn’t have solid soles, wooden pattens (pronounced pat-tens) were worn to keep you off the ground while outside.
[Image ID: a person wearing a pair of wooden pattens over their shoes, standing on a drenched cobblestone street. They are wooden platforms with an archway on the bottom, and are attached to the foot with leather straps around the toe, ankle, and around the back of the heel, similar to modern sandals. The image is captioned “ye old crocs”. End ID].
[Image ID: a woman’s leg with the skirts drawn back, revealing the bright yellow hose underneath. It is fastened below the knee with a strip of fabric. She wears a turnshoe with a buckled strap. End ID]
Eighth slide: Accessories
These are a few other items that might have made up a working woman’s outfit.
Aprons would definitely have been used while working. One were just a large rectangle of cloth tucked into the belt, some were smocked to draw in the fabric. They generally stopped at the waist.
[Image ID: a woman in a red dress, with a very light brown apron. It is smocked at the top, and is attached around the waist with a string. End ID].
Pretty broaches and other jewellery existed! There was cheaper stuff made of pewter for the lower classes.
[Image ID: five gold brooches, studded with different jewels and pearls. End ID].
They had a funny sense of humour as well… and they weren’t all prudes.
[Image ID: a pewter broach of a cat carrying a dick and balls in its mouth. It is captioned “you can actually buy these. I know a website.” End ID].
Eating knives were worn on the belt, though it is debated whether women would have carried one. I do because I’m a modern fourteenth century woman.
[Image ID: a small knife with a wooden handle, laying on top of a leather sheath that has been dyed red. End ID]
Belts are a curiously debated topic. Some people reckon that women would have definitely worn them, others say they they weren’t used by women much at all. As far as I know there are depictions of both, so choose what you’d prefer. They are great for hanging stuff on I gotta say.
[Image ID: a coiled up brown leather belt. The buckle and tip are a gold metal, and it has decorative flower studs along its length in the same metal. End ID]
Pretty little purses would have probably been worn. I don’t know enough about them to say anything else though.
[Image ID: two different pictures of reenactors wearing purses. One is brocade and the other a red fabric. They are in the shape of an upright triangle, and both have five tassels hanging from the bottom edge. They hang off the belt with long drawstrings. Unrelated to the purses, one of the women is wearing a gorgeous orange liripipe hood, that is embroidered and dagged on the bottom skirt edge. End ID]
Ninth slide: Fancy Shmancy
There is a lot I haven’t covered, especially in the realm of the upper classes. Here is some of what has been missed. (Buckle up because this section is very image heavy. I will be as concise as possible).
Heraldic dresses! If you are interested, go check out Morgan Donners video on YouTube.
[Image ID: a picture of Morgan Donner in her heraldic dress. One half of the dress is red, and the other is green, except for where it has been cut out by white with an ermine pattern on it. Her hair is unbound and uncovered, except by a small flower crown. It is captioned “Morgan bestie do your hair properly :(“. End ID]
[Image ID: a drawing of two women in heraldic dresses. The first has a blue right half with a yellow printed design. The top left of the dress is yellow with a blue fish, and the bottom left is red with a white fish. Her train is held by the second lady, who’s dress is blue on the right, and white with green birds on the left. End ID].
Fancy headpieces for rich bitches only.
[Image ID: a reenactor doing a high class impression. Her hair is bound up in Pearl studded hair nets on either side of her head like modern earmuffs, with a spiked coronet around her brow. She has a sheer silk wimple on. End ID]
Fancy dagged edged on hoods, sleeves, dresses, etc.
[Dagging description: where the edge has been cut away to make decorative dangly bits. One hood has red leaves around the bottom edge for example, and another just has a pretty geometric pattern. End description].
Brocade gowns! So pretty!
[Image ID: several different pictures of high class ladies wearing brocade gowns of different colours. These are similar to the wool dresses we were looking at earlier, but with longer trains, and often long draping sleeves. There is even a brocade surcoat. End ID]
Fancy sleeves!
[Image ID: examples of different long sleeves. On some, the sleeve is normal until the elbow, and then it falls away to a long strip of fabric that dangles to the ground. Not mentioned on the slide itself is tippets, which was a band of (usually white) fabric just above your elbow, with a thin strip of the same fabric that draped down to the floor. End ID].
Dresses that were two different colours.
[Image ID: examples of dresses that are exactly like the earlier wool dresses, except they are literally half one colour and half another. The manuscript example is a blue and red overdress with fancy sleeves, and the reenactor example is a yellow and green underdress with a red hood. End ID]
And of course, some of the funky fun fabric choices.
[Image ID: a manuscript depiction of a woman carrying a dead bird. Her hood is red and white striped horizontally, and her dress is dark and light blue striped, also horizontally. End ID].
[Image ID: a manuscript depicting a woman talking to a second lady in a chair. The dress on the first has horizontal stripes of white, red, yellow, and blue, repeated, and the second has horizontal stripes of white, pink, and light blue. Interestingly enough the latter colours are very similar to the transgender flag which would make a very cool dress project. Hmm. End ID].
Tenth (and final) slide: In summery
(Small red text below title reads “I hope you have enjoyed” with a drawn smiling face).
Dis you notice all the “usually” “commonly” and “often’s” in there? That’s because I cannot possibly illustrate everything that we know of the time in only ten slides, nor do I know everything, so I have just tried to show what seems to be the most depicted.
Note: I probably even got some stuff wrong by the way.
If you’re interested in this stuff, I really recommend doing your own research now! Hopefully I have given you a good overview of what a fourteenth century womens outfit might have looked like, so now you can go fourth and know what you’re looking for.
If you have any questions about costuming, reenactment, or anything else, feel free to contact me!! I respond on Timblr decently fast ☺️
[Image ID: a reenactor sitting on a log, staring into the distance with a slight smile. She is wearing a grey-blue dress, belted at the waist with a small purse dangling from it. She has a dark blue cape and a light blue hood, that has fallen back to show a ruffled white veil. There is a pewter broach on her hood. A leather turnshoe peeks out from beneath the hem of her dress. End ID]
A list of helpful YouTubers:
Elin Abrahamsson
Morgan Donner
Opus Elenae
Miss Joss (her instagram is more active).
Now go hydrate!!
[Image ID: a woman in fourteenth century garb drinking from a jug. End ID]
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luminiamore · 12 days
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hiiii i really liked your suguru hoochie fic and i was wondering if you could do one with ony where she’s like a tomboy and she has a smart mouth and fights a lot but when she gets with ony he makes her chill out when she start to act up.
thank youuuuuu🫶🏾
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best friend ony x black tomboy reader
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warnings: a bit of angst in the beginning? fam issues, reader can throw hands, car sex, angry sex a little, overstimulation, best friends to lovers, a teensy bit of manipulation? if you squint
a/n: hope you enjoyyyyy :33
Second year, first semester. You honestly were starting to get tired of this hell people call college. You were drained, which was weird since you loved what you were there for. Fashion design has been your passion ever since you were a child. It was nothing out of the ordinary for anyone in your family to see you declare that as your major after being admitted to FIT, one of the best fashion schools in New York.
Your parents, comprising a lawyer and the top doctor in the city, fully supported you in pursuing your dreams. They were impressed by your decision to launch your own fashion line, and before you even reached your third year in college, you had already established your own business. 
The outcome was much more successful than anticipated, making your first $100k in less than 2 months. However, there are drawbacks to being raised in a traditional Haitian family. 
‘Tifi pa mete gwo pantalon konsa.’ Girls don’t wear big pants like that.
‘Buy that skirt. Ou bezwen abiye tankou yon dam.’ You need to dress like a lady.
It was a broken fucking record, and you were tired of hearing it. You would call them out on it, never being one to hold your tongue. Your parents scolded you for that, too, telling you that no one likes a lady who always has someone to say. You swear you would pop a blood vessel if you heard another one of their lectures.
Of course, you never wore the skirts or dresses they would waste their money on for you. Your family’s Christmas gifts would be just that now. You couldn’t help but want to hurl when you saw pastel-colored tops, the shortest skirts you’d ever seen, and dresses that made you shiver in discomfort.
They weren’t ugly. You recognized the beauty in them when other people wore them. But putting them on your body made you visibly uncomfortable. You always felt awkward in them, and you realized that while you loved your parents, you couldn’t change how they viewed things. 
So, you moved out. After six months of telling your parents you were leaving. They never believed you. On a warm summer evening, you packed all of your ‘ti gason’ clothes, as they like to call them, and made your way to the high-rise apartment that you paid a deposit on three weeks ago.
You were happy. I mean, you had no reason not to be. Your parents came around to you not being home anymore, your business was doing exceptionally well, and your best friend was taking you out to eat later tonight.
You were happy. 
So, why are you leaving room 109 on the verge of tears after being scolded by your Fashion Management professor for missing yet another assignment?
You were at your limit. You weren’t by any means sensitive, always known for being quick on your feet. Usually, when there is a problem, you are the first to fix it. You were smart, having a high 3.9 GPA, and are even on the principal’s honor roll. That didn’t stop you from getting into a few fights here and there. 
Now, you were by no means were you the type of bitch always looking for a fight. But the girls at your university were bullies, and unfortunately for them, you don’t take no bullshit. Not from your parents, and certainly not from them.
You should be a MMA fighter with how these women are left twitching after you’re done with them. And you probably should’ve been expelled, but you were one of the school’s head designers. It would look bad on their part if they let you go, which is why you’re still here. Utterly drained, hungry, and twisting your personal locker open.
“Yo!” 
You hear a loud shout from behind you. You take a pause from stacking your latest edition of the Vogue magazine, featuring your designs, in the plain navy blue locker. Nah, not me. You really weren’t in the mood today.
“Excuse you, miss. With the big ass pants,” You entirely stop all your movements and take a deep breath in. Not fucking today. 
The outfit you wore was cute, you looked adorable. Standing with a basketball jersey shirt you stumbled upon while thrifting a week ago and oversized jeans. Your new blue Balance 550s were free of scratches and fit perfectly with your mid-calf length socks. Your bohemian braids are tucked into a messy updo, and your vintage jewelry completes your look. You were bad, and no amount of bullying from insecure women could ever make you feel different.
You continue ignoring the person. Your best friend of five years, Ony, told you not to get into any more fights. He said you were too bright for that, that they only wanted a reaction out of you. On any other day, you would’ve taken his concerns into consideration. Today was absolutely not one of those days. Today was one of the days where if someone said the wrong thing, you wouldn’t flinch before knocking their head off their shoulders.
To be honest, he should’ve known better; you always had a short temper. 
Still, the whiny voice pesters you until they got right within your vicinity. “I know you hear me talking to you,” 
Your method of ignoring is futile now; the girl was so close you could smell the cheap Victoria’s Secret perfume she over-sprayed. You were forced to turn to your right and face the culprit, your sharp eyes squinting at the girl.
You notice you’ve never seen her before. She wasn’t drastically shorter than you, maybe an inch or two. Even you knew, though, you could spank her with no problem. She was pretty, but her style was the complete opposite of yours. Her brown skin was well-compensated by the short pleated cream skirt she wore, and the bow-shaped crop top caused you to look twice at her tits.
You would’ve forgotten that she approached you all hostile if she didn’t put her pink glossed lips together to say her following words.
“You fucking with my man?” Didn’t I mention that you have never seen this girl a day in your life? How the fuck were you supposed to know who her man was? You’re stuck in a dilemma, a mind fucking dilemma. 
Should you walk away and be the bigger person, or should you indulge in whatever this was and risk listening to what would be your second lecture of the day from Ony? You shiver at the thought alone. You don’t think you can take another earful. 
“Y’know what? I don’t even think it was right of me to ask,” Thank you. You internally think you wouldn’t feel bad for fucking up someone’s daughter today.
“Yeah, there’s no way Ony would go for someone like you,” 
Silence.
There was an apparent silence among the crowded halls, everyone stopping what they were doing to stare at the two of you. Damn, does no one mind their business?
You weren’t lying earlier. You really didn’t have an issue with people dressing in the opposite way of you. In 2024, you have a fondness for the way humans express themselves through their clothing. What you didn’t like was how girls with the most basic outfits known to man would think they were better than you.
And did this bitch just call Ony her man?
Your anger was rising slowly the more you thought about it, and you were bout ready to strangle this girl. 
“Excuse me?”
Your usual sweet tone sounded almost chilly amid the suffocating tension. Everyone around the school knew who you were; being a fashion designer made the public eye fixated on you. Your fights were a natural source of mass attention. That was what all of your 1 million fans on Instagram liked about you, the fact that you never lost.
She had the audacity to keep talking. “Yeah, I mean, look at you. You should dress more like a-”
It’s a shame, really. You really didn’t want to fight today. Your fist went swinging before your mind even processed what was happening. It was a little uncanny how you didn’t let the girl get any punches; it was simply hit after hit. Were you at 7 now? Or maybe it was 10? You couldn’t tell. 
This wasn’t because she was weak; it took about two solid punches to the face before she fell down. But you were just so heated. That comment made something snap in the deepest crevices of your bone. There was an intense sobbing from underneath you, and in the corner of your cloudy vision, you saw pecks of blood staining your knuckles. 
You didn’t get to finish your assault on the poor girl; in a split second, you felt an arm snatch you up from your stomach. You raise your head from what feels like someone’s shoulder- Why was everything upside down?
You heard a deep mumbling in the midst of the cheers coming from the hallway, something along the lines of “Never fucking listen,”
Ony?
It seems you voiced your thoughts out loud because the 6’3 man responds with a quick, “I don’t wanna hear shit till we get home.” 
Your thoughts were jumbled, and you didn’t have a clear head. You were angry. You were an angry black woman, and you had every right to be one. Ony is your best friend, not your father. So, you were stuck trying to figure out just who the fuck was he talking to?
In a hiss, your voice whispers by his diamond stud earring, “Who the fuck- Are you crazy? Fuck ass nigga, put me down!” you start sending harsh slaps on his back, the fabric of his white tee swaying. But he wasn’t budging; not a single hit swayed him.
Your words must have been a source of tension, causing him to finally put you down. The blood rushing from your body into your head makes your vision hazy, and as you look around, you realize you’re in the school parking lot. Alone. Alone with Ony.
He doesn’t let the thought simmer in your brain, not when you’re more concerned about the fact that he has a tatted hand on your throat and just pushed your body to the nearest concrete wall. 
“Watch that mouth. You should know better, Y/n.” 
His voice is more calm now, though you can hear the underlying irritation. You’re both glaring at each other, your breathing audibly heard amid the empty oversized garage. His grip on your throat is making you feel things, things you shouldn’t be feeling for a best friend. 
You were never intimidated by Ony, and he knew it when you continued glaring and uttered, “Get the fuck off of me,” You try grasping at his arm, but he’s quicker than you. Ony doesn’t hesitate to put your arms above your head, the scent of his YSL cologne filling your senses. 
Is he- Is he closer than before?
“Nah, you’re not getting out of this one.” He pressed into you harder, and it was getting a little difficult to breathe. His body heat somehow mixed in with yours, creating a heated symphony. You knew it was coming, another scolding. At this point, you were starting to think you’re 9 again.
“What did we talk about yesterday, ma?” His voice goes an octave lower, and you’re almost sure he’s doing this purposefully. You roll your eyes, refusing to let him see the effect he was beginning to have on you. You decide you don’t even want to let him hear your voice.
Ony doesn’t hear a peep out of you, and after 10 seconds, he loses his patience, “You deadass? Don’t make me fuck you up, Y/n.” You feel the hand on your throat squeeze tighter twice as if he’s warning you. Damp are the only words to describe what your panties are experiencing right now. 
Still, you keep up your facade. Ony can see right through you, though, you’ve never had someone put you in your place. You’ve never had someone match your energy like he did. It usually never got this bad; Ony never got upset with you after a fight he had to pull you from. A calm talk and a little praise got you to calm your nerves.
This was before you got the fame you have now. Ony thinks, no, he knows, that you’re going to be much bigger than you already are. And he doesn’t want you being held back by some petty fights. He always told you if you ever had a problem, go to him first, and he’ll always handle it. 
But you wanted to be stubborn. You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, relieving some weight off of your shoulders. Being the first-born daughter issued a connection with hyper-independence. And all Ony wants to do is engrave in your pretty little head that he’s got you. And he always will. He genuinely cannot understand why you make it so difficult for him.
“I’m not in the mood, Ony. Let me go-” He cuts you off, coming closer to your soft lips. 
“I don’t care, Y/n. Talk it out right now, or I swear we’re not leaving this parking lot.” He read you like a book; he knew you were trying to run away from him. To dismiss this and to never bring it up again. He was done doing that, and the attitude you’ve been giving him ended today. He’ll fix it for you by whatever means. 
You knew Ony meant his words in the least sexual way possible. Yet, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, why does he look so good? The thin gold chain you gave him for his birthday last year makes his brown skin stand out. Through your adrenaline haze, you didn’t even notice what he wearing. 
It’s sinful. How the outfit you know he barely put thought into putting on makes you want to pounce.
A white tee that alone made your breath stutter with the way his abs pressed through. You could make out the outline, damn. Black sweats that sit so low, the white Polo Ralph Lauren briefs he had on were teasing you. 
It wasn’t your first time having these thoughts, but moments with Ony made you think this way often. 
When you guys would smoke together, and Ony would feed you the blunts, his eyes would never leave your lips. When he would come over and cook with you, small brushes behind your hips. You would always brush it aside; that wouldn’t be appropriate for a best friend to think. You were just best friends, right?
You’re questioning everything because of this moment. This isn’t what best friends do. Why is his hand squeezing your throat? Why is he pressing his body flush against you? 
Most importantly, why aren’t you stopping him? Why is this making you so fucking wet? You know, if you told Ony you were uncomfortable, he would back off in a second. But you weren’t. The only thing making you uncomfortable is the slickness you can feel drip down the fat of your soft thighs. 
Your next words leave him stunned, “Well, I guess we’re not leaving then.” 
When your words register in Ony’s brain, he moves quickly. Whispering a stern, “Bet.” With a smile on his handsome face. As if he knows something you don’t. After grabbing you by the throat and letting go of your hands, he swiftly moves to his car, an all-black Scat Pack. 
This was honestly your fault. The position you were in, your back arching perfectly, and your slobbering pussy receiving the deepest back shots from Ony’s long dick. You were scrambling in his back seat. You’ve already came twice due to his fingers, and his precision in piercing your squishy spot would make you cum again. You weren’t even sure you could.
You tried running away from the pleasure, pleading for him in your shaky voice to just “G-give me a b-break! I can’t-” 
It wouldn’t be a punishment if he did, now would it? His hands would only grip the sides of your hips harder at your words; it would probably leave a dent mark. Ony was letting his dick stir up your insides because he needed to teach you a lesson. It seems this is the only way your mouth wouldn’t retort anything to him.
“Not happening, mama. All you needed was some dick, right?” Heavy pants fill the air, and you start seeing smoke fog up his tinted car windows. Ony was honestly losing himself with how tight your pussy was squeezing him. He doesn’t know why the fuck it took him so long to get you like this. It’s all he ever dreams about. 
Making you scream out his name, making you cream all over his dick as he makes you take what he knows nobody could ever give you. Fuck, he swears he’s in love with your fat cunt, with you. “Don’t it feel good when I fuck you like this?” 
The more he kept talking, the more you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn’t know if he wanted an answer. But you were already gone, high off the pleasure his fast pace was giving you. You had no control over your lips when they parted and screamed, “S-so good, Ony! Oh-fuck. It f-feels so-”
He went faster at your words, and your mouth was dripping with drool as your face pressed firmly against his leather seats. After the fifth attempt at pushing him away, he tied your hands behind your back with the durag he wore. You had nowhere to run. You were forced to take Ony’s mean pumps inside your folds.
He pulls you up by your hair, never stopping his assault on your battered pussy when he whispers, “I know, ma. I always make you feel good, yeah?” 
He slithers a hand to your throat and another down to your twitching clit. Rubbing so fast, your squirt was coming out in small streams. Your sinful sobs made his body shake while he was inside you. God, your pussy was so heavenly. So wet and perfect, he never wanted to pull out.
You squirm under him, “So good! Make me- Ouuuu shit- feels so f-fucking good,” Your body was shivering, you didn’t even realize you were coming. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as your stomach clenched so hard it hurt. Your pussy mirroring around his aching thrusts, you were fucking up his seats. He didn’t mind; he just wanted to make you forget everything that happened today.
You thought it was over; you thought he would stop or, at the very least, slow the fuck down. But he never let up on your poor pussy, he just kept feeding you his strokes, and he kept rubbing your puffy clit. “So, why don’t you fucking listen? Don’t you love me?”
The anger he felt earlier was coming back, and you could feel it with the way his fat dick was penetrating you so good, so deep. The tears falling down your cheeks came down ten times harder, your clit couldn’t take anymore. Why was he fucking you like this?
“I do! I- I love you- so much, Ony! I’ll listen- I swear! P-please just-”
Ony could feel his heavy balls twitching as he fucked up into you, he was going to cum. He knew you loved him, but hearing you say it. Saying those words in such an intimate position, he doesn’t think he can hold back anymore. He just wanted to dump his seed past your lower lips.
“Yeah? You’ll listen, t’me?” You nodded so quickly before your brain even registered his words. He was pushing you past your limit, your pussy being so overstimulated that your next orgasm was just seconds away from wetting his seats even more.
“Y-yes- Fuckkk! I’m coming.” That was his only warning before your pussy sprayed all over, and your sticky cream coated his dick. Ony groaned deeply in your ear, the hand on your throat giving one final squeeze before he came so deep you swear it was touching your womb. 
There was nothing in the air but heavy breathing. Your body, weak and unable to hold itself, fell back against him when Ony let you go. His following words break the silence, 
“I love you too, mama.” You feel your heart squeeze, but he doesn’t stop there. “I’m getting you some food before we get home, and allat’ best friend’ shit is dead, by the way. You’re mine now, okay?” 
He presses a chaste kiss to your wet cheeks as you lay against him. It was a trip. He fucked you all crazy like that but then spoke to you in the most gentle tone possible afterward. You couldn’t process it. You can’t do anything but nod, your mind still barely processing what he just did to your body, to you. 
What were you upset about again?
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konosohn · 13 days
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MDNI. top amab reader x bottom könig [manhandling, unprotected sex, mating press, creampie, german]
I want him to snap my neck between his thighs. Thanks.
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You can hear your security deposit saying it’s final farewell with the crack your front door makes as the wood of the jamb splinters. Though, as König presses himself into you, your (likely) damaged doorframe is the last thing on your mind. Your duffle slips from your grasp and your hands fly to his hips to stabilize him against you.
“He—” His mouth finds yours before you can even greet him. Time is a valuable resource when you spend most of it apart on deployment, and you waste none of it, eagerly kissing him back.
It’s desperate and sloppy, your tongues tracing over each other’s lips and teeth clacking together. You can taste the sweat on his upper lip and the bitter remnants of his eyeblack tracing down his face. Your hand blindly reaches for the lock and the second you hear the deadbolt click your fingers are slipping behind him and under the band of his pants.
One of your hands grabs at his ass, dragging him forward to grind your hardening cocks together. The other trails down between his cheeks, drawing a line down to his hole that has his spine tingling. Before long, you’re knuckles deep in him, spreading him open on your fingers. He moans into your mouth, hands clutching the fabric of your shirt as you skillfully zone in on his prostate.
You keep your bodies pressed together as you haphazardly make your way to the bedroom. Every step is utilized; curling your fingers inside him, pulling his pants down just a little further, pushing your aching hard-on into his hip. Eventually the heels of König’s boots hit the foot of your bed. The sheets are forfeit and you readily ignore the reality of the number of liquids and black boot prints that will find their way onto the pristine fabric.
Squatting down, you hook your hands under his thighs, effortlessly lifting his hefty frame up and over onto his back. He sinks into the mattress with a soft grunt. From this angle he looks so pliable, shirt riding up and legs up in the air, his dick lying heavy and useless against his stomach. You love seeing him like this. He towers above everybody he meets, including you, but he’s absolute putty in your hands.
Your eyes catch sight of his own mostly unpacked bag sitting in the corner of your room, clothes streaming out in the direction of the door presumably from when he heard you arrive. A small smile creeps up on your face.
You plant one knee on the bed, looming over him. Your hands slot themselves in the pits of his knees, pressing them up towards his shoulders, and you lean down to coo at him. “Were you waiting for me?”
He nods breathlessly in response, nose brushing against yours. You feel his hand slip between you to cup the erection currently fighting to get out of your pants. His fingers quickly find their way to your belt, hooking under the leather strap and undoing your buckle in record time. It’s not shocking when he nearly rips the button of your pants from its threads to get your zipper down.
His hand grabs at the band of your boxers and yanks them down enough for your cock to spring out. A breathy “scheiße” passes König’s lips as your dick slaps against the cleft of his ass. You can feel his hole twitch against the underside. It’s hot and soft, and every quiver has your cock leaking.
Your teeth catch your lip when you feel his fingers wrap around your length and give a gentle tug. It takes no convincing, you follow his touch eagerly as he guides you. You fall forward, planting your hands on either side of his shoulders. The action closes the distance, pressing your tip up against his rim.
Both of you are breathing way too hard before you’re even started, but the threat of relief after months of not being able to fuck raw until both your bodies are slick with sweat and littered head to toe with love bites has both of you by the throat.
You groan into his neck as you finally start to breach his entrance. König’s legs envelop your waist, strong thighs squeezing your sides as you sink deeper into him. His insides are tight and wet, pulsing around you with every inch. You feel the vibrations of his moans against your lips as you finally bottom out. His voice is low and sweet in your ears.
You adjust your position above him, straightening up to stand over him. One of your hands run from his ass and up his thigh to hook under the back of one of his knees again. “You feel so good, baby.” Your knee digs further into the mattress, your body weight driving your cock to the deepest parts of him until your balls are squished snugly against his crack.
“Fuck,” The air feels like it’s punched out of his lungs. His hands reach to grip at the backs of your thighs, drawing you impossibly closer.
Your fingers dig into the meat of his legs as you pull back out, leaving just the head of your cock inside him. The squelch is nothing short of obscene as you sink back in. Your arms are trembling from the feeling of his tight heat wrapped around you, squeezing you with every inch you slip in. You try to maintain the gentle pace, but as you catch sight of his face, flushed skin streaked with melting eyeblack, hair stuck to his forehead, and glazed over steel blue eyes, you lose your resolve.
The cry he lets out when you slam your entire length back in sends a wave of heat up your neck. His head is thrown back into the mattress, nails scratching at your thighs as you repeat the motion over and over, fucking into him like it’s the last time you’d ever get to. He moans uncontrollably in that raspy indelicate voice, his legs straining to spread further against the pants gathered at his knees.
Your pace is relentless as you pull back against the tight resistance of his hole only to thrust right back in. You groan in the back of your throat as he arches his back off the bed, putting his shoulders into the bed and pressing back against you. All that height and all that muscle and yet he’s still so good at getting fucked. You can’t wait to fill him up.
One of your hands slips down to run your thumb along his bottom lip, “You’re so pretty like this.”
He whines at your words, feeling the tip of your thumb slide across his bottom row of teeth. The skin of König’s ass is blotched with red from your hips. You hardly even notice the sting anymore, too preoccupied with burying your cock inside him over and over.
“Schatz— I can’t, ‘m gonna cum!” His words flood your senses, insides wringing your cock as one of his hands flys to wrap around his own dripping hard on.
You watch his fist franticly work his cock, his hips rolling back against you until he snaps. Thick ropes spurt from his slit, splattering across his heaving abdomen. Heat surges down your stomach to the tip of your dick as his hole constricts around you. All of your body weight goes towards getting as deep as possible inside him, rocking your hips against his until the warmth in your belly finally comes to a peak. Deep resonating moans spill from your lips as your cock throbs inside him, filling him up with weeks worth of yearning.
Your legs finally give out on you, and you topple over onto him. Your hips work gently against his, riding out your high for as long as it will let you. His arms drape across your back as you both bathe in the aftershocks. Your softening cock pops out of him, and your temporarily sated lust preens at the feeling of your cum seeping out of his entrance. You lift your head to look at him, and he meets your eyes with a look that’s equal parts adoring and exhausted. You press a small kiss to his stubbled chin, eyes taking on the gaze that he knows he can’t say no to. It comes as no surprise to him when you ask,
“One more time in the shower?”
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everyonewooeverywhere · 3 months
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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED
pairing ✭ mechanic!mingi x f!reader
synopsis ✭ when a random girl keeps shamelessly flirting with mingi, despite his many attempts to ward her off, he needs a knight dressed his own sweater and a black mini skirt to fend her off.
content/genre ✭ smut (18+ MDNI)
word count ✭ 2.5k
warnings ✭ smut, please MDNI (seriously), clothed sex (mostly), on top of his car (🫣), fingering, minor jealousy (from mc), spanking, despite the title there's really no dom/sub dynamic (just mc trying to protect her man)
✭✭✭✭
You noticed her immediately when you pulled your car into the shop. Of course you did, she was chatting it up with your boyfriend with a hand reaching out to grab his arm. He pulled back in obvious disinterest, but it irked you nonetheless that another woman was after your man. You knew him well enough to know that he’d definitely told her he had a girlfriend. Despite this, she certainly seemed to think that she was his type. With her grease-stained cargo pants and tight tank top you could tell she worked with cars just like him. 
So what the fuck did she need here? You wondered to yourself. 
You hadn’t yet gotten out of the car and continued to watch them from a distance when someone knocked on your window. Yunho grinned down at you from outside the car. You waved at him, slightly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring so intently at the sight in front of you. He gave you a friendly wave as you stepped out of the car. 
When you got out of the car, you saw her give you a glance over and roll her eyes. Oh you were gonna fucking lose it. It was obvious from the way she had looked at you that she was judging your appearance, and you got the vibe that she would give you the same treatment that most other men you give you if you came to them with a car problem. Like you were some stupid little girl who would be easy to upsell. Did you know anything about cars, not really, but you had a sexy mechanic boyfriend to do that shit for you so what was the need? 
“She’s been here every day this week,” Yunho informed you, clearly aware of your annoyance toward the woman giving bedroom eyes at Mingi, “claims something different is wrong every time she comes in, but when she gets here everything works fine. Then she never leaves. She’s luck it’s been a slow week, or he would have fully lost it by now”
You scoff quietly, “have you tried to ‘help’ her?”
“Yes,” he sighs, “but she always dodges my help and finds a way to drag him back over.”
Of course she does. 
“Anyway, is anything wrong with your car?”
“Of course not,” you laugh, “but, if you wanna take a look, be my guest.”
Yes, you were fully aware of the irony of you and this woman having identical motives when pulling your cars into the shop, but at least you were always a welcome surprise who didn’t go around trying to sleep with other people’s boyfriends.
“Sure. I’ll look,” Yunho grabbed your keys from you. “Um, by the way, I can tell you he certainly wouldn’t mind if you went over and saved him. You know, assert your dominance.”
That line made you giggle. You brushed out your black mini skirt and checked your lip gloss in the side mirror of your car. Luckily, you were feeling incredibly cute today, in your possibly too short skirt and sweater that totally belonged to your boyfriend. The heels on your feet were a gift from him as well, and you always felt sexy hearing the sound they made when you walked. And that was the noise they made as you made your way over to them.
She saw you first. “I’m sorry, can we help you? Isn’t he helping you out?” She asked, clearly annoyed, pointing her finger at Yunho who was checking out your tires. Clearly trying to ward you off, and you got the idea that she knew exactly who you were.
Her acknowledgment of you though, made Mingi turn around. Finally seeing you for the first time since you’d stepped foot in his shop today. He was visibly relieved as he took a step toward you, “hey baby, I didn’t realize you were coming in today.”
He grinned when you placed a manicured hand on his chest. He wouldn’t bring it up now, but he fucking loved when your jealous side came out. And he knew that this specific touch’s purpose was to stake your claim.
“I missed you,” you sighed, stepping closer, “you’ve been so busy this week, and I haven’t seen you at all.”
His hands found your waist and pulled you all the way into him, “I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, “I've had a lot of customers waste my time this week, and I just can’t catch a break.”
You giggle as the girl next to you scoffs, “Wow Mingi, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was so,” she eyed you up and down again but, before she can finish what was bound to be a wonderful insult, you cut her off.
“Oh so you knew he had a girlfriend and were still all over him like a bitch in heat.”
She laughed at you, "he doesn't mind. Right, Min? Sorry sweetheart, you're not as special as you might think. Maybe, he needs someone a little more real, not some plastic bitch who doesn't even know how to change her own tires."
Sensing that you were about to fully unleash yourself onto this fucking cunt, Mingi put a soothing hand on your shoulder and spoke sternly, “Get out.”
She gaped at him, “Wha-”
���You can fucking fix your car yourself, if there’s even anything wrong with it, but make sure you see Yunho on your way out. He’ll charge you before you leave.”
“You can’t be serious.” 
“Of course I’m serious. You’ve wasted a lot of fucking time for me this week with your perfectly fine car. My time is precious, and since you wasted it, I'm gonna need you to pay up.”
He looked back over at your car, “Yunho, please deal with this.”
The other man’s shoulders slumped, clearly not keen on dealing with this woman, but he made no effort to argue. You made a mental note to bring him lunch next time you came in to make up for it.
Mingi grabbed the hand that’s still on his chest and leaned down to your ear, “come with me.”
✭✭✭✭
“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much baby,” he breathed into you neck as he placed kisses on it. 
You smiled and placed a hand in his hair, gripping lightly onto his dark hair, “I’ve missed you, too.”
You were in the back of the shop, where Mingi kept his own car. You didn’t know the make or the model, but you knew it was a sexy car. And you were well acquainted with it. From it pulling up outside your apartment for the occasional lunch date. To late nights in the backseat when you both knew you couldn’t make it to a bed. And then to moments like these. Days in the shop where your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to see you all on display for him on top of the hood.
“Why didn’t you tell me someone was bothering you, Min?” you pouted as his hands fiddled with the edge of your (his) sweater.
“Oh, y/n I can handle myself, baby, you don’t need to worry yourself with stuff like that.”
Sighing, you placed a hand on his cheek, “you know I just wanna help and be there for you. Will you at least tell me next time?”
“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up. I promise I’ll tell you next time. Ok?”
You nodded as you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, pulling him back down to your lips. His hands started wandering as the two of you explored each other’s mouths. He removed a hand that was tangled in your hair and caressed your neck. His mouth followed the hand, leaving plenty of dark spots all over your pretty neck.
When he reached for the hem of the sweater you were wearing, you grabbed at his hand, “I don’t wanna get naked in here.”
And you really didn’t. As much as you loved your boyfriend, getting fully undressed anywhere but the bedroom was a line you very rarely crossed. Especially in a place as unkempt and naturally messy as the shop he spends most of his days in. You were a woman of at least a little class, but keeping your clothes on didn’t mean that sex was off the table. Not at all, actually.
“Ok, love,” he moved his hands to fiddle with the edge of your skirt, “it’s a good thing you wore such a tiny skirt today then, right?” 
You nodded, biting your lip to suppress your smile, “you can take my panties off if you really want to, though.” You said through a whisper.
He didn’t need any convincing because in the next moment he’d slipped your panties off your legs and put them in his pocket. His hands were under your skirt now. One gripping your waist and holding you in place. The other teasingly stroking your inner thigh.
“Mingi, please,” you begged breathily, desperately trying to shift closer to his hand, but the other one on your waist was completely preventing that.
He smirked at your desperation, “patience, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
As a man of his word, his thumb brushed your clit, and you let out a whine when he pushed two fingers into you. He worked over your clit with his thumb as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. 
“Oh, Min–” you moaned and gripped his shoulders tight.
The hand from your waist moved to grab your throat as he leaned close to your ear, “God, baby, you moan so pretty for me. You’ll let me know when you’re close, yeah?”
You could barely get out a breath “yes” before he slid another finger into your already soaking cunt. Your grip on his shoulders tightened. Wrapping a leg around his back, you arched your back, trying every option to get as close to him as possible. You lost all control of your hips and ground yourself into his hand in sync with his own movements.
When you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, you whined, and your eyes fluttered shut, “I’m close! So close.” 
“Let go for me baby. I got you.”
As you reached your climax, you wrapped your legs around his waist. 
“Good girl,” his lips reached your own as you came down from your high. He pulled you off the hood of his car and set you on the ground. He looked you up and down, admiring you fully. He lifted a hand to caress your face and his thumb brushed over your cheek. Smiling, he said, “you always do so good for me baby. Turn around for me, yeah?”
You turned around quickly, eager for what you knew was coming next. Without him even having to ask, you leaned over the hood of his car. Giving him just the view he wanted. His hands were quick to flip up your skirt and smooth his hands over your ass. He gripped one cheek in his hand, and you braced yourself on your forearms. When he let go, you wiggled your ass and looked back over your shoulder. Challenging him with your eyes.
He brought his hand back down on your ass, slapping it. When you let out an obvious and loud moan, he smirked and leaned down over you, “you’re so fucking impatient baby, are you really so worked up? Let me help you out. Does that sound good?”
“Please, Mingi,” you begged (god he loved when you couldn’t stop begging), “I need you!”
“Where do you need me, baby?”
“Inside,” you moaned when he slapped your ass again.
“You want my cock, baby?” You could hear him unzipping his pants and the rustle of fabric behind you. Fucking finally.
All you could do was nod desperately and look back at him over your shoulder with begging eyes. He couldn’t fucking hold it together when you gave him those eyes. So desperate and needy that he could almost see tears. And the pout on your lips was the cherry on top.
You braced yourself again when he gripped his hips with one hand. When he finally pushed into you, you moaned out softly.
With one hand gripping your waist hard enough to bruise and the other playing with your clit, he thrust into you. His car shook, and you struggled to hold yourself up but, god, it felt so good. After a week of missing him constantly, you couldn’t think of anything but how full you felt with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself, either from telling you how good you felt.
Shit, baby, you just keep getting wetter.
You just love it when I fill you up like this, don’t you?
Oh, you’re close, baby. I can feel you closing around me so good.
Fuuuuck, god angel I’m almost there. Can I fill you up?
“Yes, yes, yes, please!” you cried. Your loud and pornographic moans bounced off the walls as you reached your climax.
He followed soon after, filling you to the brim. You felt so warm and flushed. Your eyes fluttered in post-orgasm bliss. Panting, he flipped you back over onto your back and helped you sit up. He kissed you one more time, “thank you for coming to visit.”
“Of course,” you laughed softly, “I mean if you reward me like this everytime, then I’ll just come in every day like that bitch earlier, but I can’t promise I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Oh baby, you being here is enough, and your pretty pussy is the perfect payment,” he moved a finger back down to your core and pushed his cum back inside of you.
“Mmmm,” you ran hand through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, “as much as I’d love to go again, you closed an hour ago, and Yunho’s probably waiting for you to lock up.”
Mingi groaned as he finished putting his pants back on. He lifted you off the car, “can I have my panties back please?” You reached a hand out to him.
“Oh,” he laughed as he reached into his pocket to give them back to you.
✭✭✭✭
“Did she leave?” Mingi asked his friend who was finishing up putting new tires on your car. So maybe you actually did need something done with it. 
The other man laughed, “oh she left alright. She tried to stick around, but when she heard you two having fun back there she took off. Kinda felt bad for her honestly.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his sympathy even though you felt an immense sense of satisfaction at knowing you had fended her off so easily. You had “asserted your dominance” to quote Yunho.
Mingi placed a hand on your lower back, “don’t worry baby, we won’t be seeing her for a while.” He turned to Yunho, “You can go man, I’ll finish locking up. Thanks for your help.”
“Good night man, have fun locking up.” Clearly implying that you might distract him from such a task. 
When Yunho was gone, it was only seconds before you were backed into the back door of your own car, and Mingi reached around you to open the door. “Get in, baby.” 
You could only giggle as you climbed in, pulling him in after you by the collar of his t-shirt. When he shut the door behind him, he leaned over you, “just one more. Ok, baby?”
“Ok,” you responded breathlessly. Knowing full well you would be under him in your bed soon enough.
✭✭✭✭
note ✭ thank you for reading. i'm trying my best over here, but university is kicking my ass. so i appreciate you reading what is essentially a coping mechanism 😀🥲
also this was so nerve racking to post so SEND ME VALIDATION (if you want 😙)
srsly though, thanks for reading! feel free to lmk what you think. reblogs and comments are much appreciated!
have a wonderful day!
mwah~
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10piecechickennuggy · 2 months
Text
Rut - Alastor x Fem!Reader - Oneshot
Tumblr media
WARNING: Mature content ahead. MDNI
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hazbin Hotel or the fanart featured above. This is a fan created work.
Word Count: 4,244
***
Clawed fingers tore at crimson silk, black buttons snapping free and clattering to the floor as the dress shirt was ripped open. Beads of sweat soaked into scarlet bangs, plastering the usually fluffy hairs against feverish skin. Ragged breaths rattled a heaving chest as they fanned across parched lips.
When had it gotten so hot? Was the air conditioning in the radio tower not working?
Everything felt too constricting. From his clothes to his own skin, it was as though he couldn’t breathe properly. Alastor growled in frustration as his bowtie was thrown to the floor.
Leaning over a panel of dials and switches, the radio demon raised a hand to his antlers. The velveteen covered bone itched - small shreds of the hair-like skin falling as he scratched desperately. 
The sensation did little to dissuade his discomfort. Nor did removing his monocle or allowing his other hand to dig into the skin of his neck. But even so, he couldn’t stop. 
Thin lines of sanguine trickled from now raw skin, the thick liquid eliciting a cooling sensation in its wake. A loud sigh escaped Alastor at the miniscule relief his spilled blood had brought. But the amnesty was short lived, retreating almost immediately and leaving a psoriasis of mounting intensity in its wake.
Air. He needed air.
Scrambling toward a window, the man almost didn’t notice his antlers crashing into the glass until the impact had caused him to stumble backwards and land on his ass. Rubbing his behind, Alastor stood and paused for a moment. 
Why did that feel good? 
It was as though his antlers were yearning to be rammed against something. The urge tickled and twisted its way down from the top of his head to the tip of his tail - the white and scarlet puff now standing straight up in alert.
Foregoing another headbut into the fenestella, he instead raised the glass gently. A welcome breeze struck against his face, bringing a shiver down the demon’s spine as his burning skin began to cool in the sulfur wind. 
Panting, he allowed his upper body to bend over the windowsill. His torso stretched outward and his head hung limply as he took in the feeling of relief once more. Had he a clearer mind, he’d have cringed at the thought of someone seeing him in such a desperate state.
But the act of leaning out the window brought another sensation. As if the universe itself were seeking to break him, he was struck by an alluring scent. Floral musk assaulted his nostrils, causing the demon’s head to jerk upward in search of its source. And when his gaze traveled down towards the hotel’s entrance, he knew it had been located.
Standing in front of the building was the establishment’s newest resident, Y/n. Her hair was pulled up, exposing the delicate flesh of her neck and shoulders, the sun dress she wore fluttering in the breeze. No doubt the autumn wind was what brought her enticing bouquet aloft, caressing the visible skin and shepherding her aroma to the radio tower above.
Scent was far from her only captivating feature. From her piercing eyes to the enthralling angles of her facial structure. From her beautiful hair down to her adorable toes and every sensual curve in between, the woman was downright breathtaking. A dangerous sentiment, given Alastor’s current state.
Leaning further out the window, his nose lifted as he inhaled deeply, Alastor’s eyes widened in awareness of his lower half now pressed firmly against the wall below. The rigid wooden surface brushed deliciously against his hardened member.
So that was it. It was that time of year again.
Alastor was rarely one to experience such basal urges. The occasions he did were more inconvenient and bothersome than anything, requiring time be taken from his busy schedule to satiate the primal desire. He clicked his tongue in irritation at his body’s betrayal. Crinkling his eyebrows together and exiting the studio, he began to ponder just how best to take care of the pesky dilemma.
***
Several hours later, Alstor had been able to quell the physical effects of his rut enough to emerge from his room. The demon was far from satisfied though, the urge to breed burning at the back of his mind. An incredible amount of willpower was needed to keep himself in check - far more than he would care to admit - or else he’d find himself locked away, stroking his cock raw in desperate search of release again.
After an annoyingly long period of such activities, the deer demon had grown so disgruntled with his own biology that he’d decided to just ignore it. He knew the strategy was flawed - that it could only work for a short while - no matter how many times he came, only allowing himself to truly mate would bring any true relief to his symptoms. But he had to get on with his life. He had duties and obligations that could wait no longer. Perhaps after he completed the day’s tasks, he’d hire a prostitute to satiate his sexual appetite. 
And then kill her, of course. 
He couldn’t let someone walk freely knowing how truly weak his rut made him. The thought of using another sinner and then beating her body into a bloody pulp caused Alastor’s signature smile to broaden. After inflicting as much pain as possible and ensuring she’d perished, he’d consume her flesh. His stomach growled in anticipation.
Whistling an old timey tune, he walked through the streets of Pentagram City. An overlord meeting had just concluded, meaning Alastor was now free to return to the Hazbin Hotel and fulfill his duties as facilities manager.  He just needed to make some quick repairs, meet with Charlie to discuss her continuing rehabilitation curriculum, and he’d be off to the entertainment district.
***
Moss-colored wooden panels now lined yet another wall of the hotel’s lobby. Why did there always seem to be a new hole in the building’s exterior walls? If it wasn’t one of Sir Pentious’ inventions causing another explosion, it was some nuisance of the week who thought they could best the Radio Demon and the Princess of Hell. 
Alastor couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of the latest attack, the pained screams of his victims as he strangled them to death with his shadow tentacles still replaying in his mind. They’d managed to blow a hole in the hotel’s facade, but some quick magic had it fixed in a jiffy. Standing back, Alastor admired his work when a familiar scent caught his attention.
Turning around slowly, he was met with the sight of Y/n descending the hotel’s main staircase. Every step she took was pure elegance, as though she were surrounded by an aura of grace and allure. Her vibrant sundress flowed behind as she walked, its deep V neckline exposing a fair bit of cleavage. Her pheromones permeated Alastor’s senses, working in tandem with her gorgeous appearance to captivate the man. When she’d reached the final step, her gaze lifted to meet with his and her lips curved up to form a dazzling smile.
“Hey, Al.” She waved before advancing toward him.
Alastor’s heart skipped and his cock throbbed. The uncomfortable itching sensation returned, his pulse increasing and his breath growing shallow. He briefly considered excusing himself - running to his room before he lost composure - but decided against it. He couldn’t let something as simple as biology and instinct get the better of him.
“Hello there, darling! How are you this fine afternoon?” The radio static came through especially thick as he spoke, distorting his voice to a near grumble.
A blush overtook the woman, her hands clasping together as she took on a bashful stance. Her current posture had her arms squeezing her breasts, causing the supple flesh to squish together and expose even more of her cleavage than had already been visible. 
“I’m alright. Just headed to the bar.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. “Care to join me?” Her voice was soft and smooth, akin to satin.
Damn, this woman. He’d already made plans to take care of the issue, and yet here she was enticing him. But the longer he spent in her presence, the more he felt his desire grow. And the harder his cock grew, his body reacting to the female before it.
Forcing himself to remain composed, Alastor gestured for her to lead the way. He followed her silently to the bar, where they both sat before a frowning Husker. 
“Hi there, beautiful.” He turned to nod towards Alastor. “Boss.” The feline bartender bent down, the sound of clinking glass coming from below the bar. “What can I get you, sweetheart?”
Alastor didn’t miss the warm smile Husk offered his companion while only scowling in his general direction when addressing them both. When said female’s eyelashes fluttered and she began to fidget with the hem on her dress, the Radio Demon’s perpetual smile fell just the slightest bit.
“Sex on the beach, please.”
Red wings flapped once as Husker took on a devious smirk. He reached for a bottle of peach schnapps before speaking in a flirtatious tone. “Sorry to disappoint, but the nearest ocean is three rings down. Hopefully the drink is half as satisfying as the man making it.” 
And then the cat winked. He fucking winked. 
Alastor’s blood boiled, the urge to ram his antlers against the insufferable bartender was overwhelming. When she giggled at the other male’s advances, all he could see was red.
The deer demon growled as he stood from his seat, fluffy ears laying flat to his head. Clawed fingers gripped Y/n’s wrist and yanked her away from the bar. A surprised yelp escaped the woman as Alastor dragged her towards the staircase, his anger evident with every stomping footstep.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, her words laced with uncertainty. “Where are you taking me?”
He didn’t respond, only continuing to trudge forward as she stumbled behind attempting to keep up with his quick and deliberate strides. As they ventured onward, his other hand rose to dig at his neck, the itching sensation now unbearable as his body’s excitement and irritation intensified. By this point, the man was nearly operating on hormones alone. 
The pair halted at Alastor’s room just long enough for him to open the door before roughly pushing her inside.
“Hey!” Her voice was now raised as she stared down the man before her. “What was that for?!”
Shadow tentacles emerged from the room’s corners and encircled the woman, wrapping around her form with a vice grip. She squealed when the appendages lifted her into the air, her feet dangling above the carpeted floor. Her eyes widened when Alastor advanced toward her, his form appearing to grow larger and his antlers having extended.
When the pair were mere centimeters apart, his steps ceased. Bending forward, his nose brushed the crook of her neck before he inhaled deeply. Her scent was even stronger than before - like a hypnotic miasma the man could feel himself getting drunk on with every wiff.
“Umm, Alastor?” Her voice wavered as she questioned his actions. But she made no attempt to move away.
“Apologies, my dear.” His ever present radio static sunk into her bones, her expression visibly softening when he pulled away to meet her eyes. Oh how he longed to see that face morphed with bliss and pleasure as he ravaged her. “I simply couldn’t stand to watch that pestering feline continue his advances on what is mine.”
Her cheeks were brightly flushed, but she made no effort to deny his statement. Instead, when Alastor lifted a hand to cup her cheek, she leaned into it. “Perhaps you should claim me then.”
The noise he made in response was akin to a crackling purr, his eyelids drooping and pupils dilating in a lustful gaze. Tangling his fingers through her hair, his lips crashed into hers in a devouring kiss. His tongue invaded the wet cavern of my mouth when she moaned against him. She tasted of sweetness and desire, not unlike the musk of her arousal Alastor’s heightened senses allowed him to take note of. She wanted him, and the longer their mouths remained plastered together, the more their carnal need for each other grew.
Once their lips had separated, the shadow tentacles moved her to the waiting bed. Their grip loosened, allowing her limbs to regain blood flow while still holding her firmly in place. Her body rested against the plush comforter beautifully, her hair splayed out in a halo around her face as her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths of anticipation.
Alastor’s smile broadened, sharp teeth exposed and menacing in the room’s dim lighting. She was willing prey before a deadly predator, his perfect doe - compliant and eager. He climbed atop her form, the mattress dipping as he did.
Sharp nails clawed up the female’s sides as he drew into her neck once more, his tongue coming out to lick a long stripe along the supple flesh. Beneath the sodden muscle, he could feel her pulse quicken. The scent of blood flowing beneath her skin enticed the demon, who sunk his claws into her hips - fabric and skin tearing as his knee came up to brush firmly against her clothed cunt. The resulting whimper which fell from her lips was like music to the Radio Demon’s ears.
By this point, his pants had grown uncomfortably tight against his needy erection. Dragging his digits upwards, the sundress was ripped from her form as a shudder rippled through her. 
Long streaks of bloody claw marks ran up her torso, the shallow cuts bringing a new sense of exciting danger to the female. She began to writhe against the shadow appendages which still held her in place, but it was clear she wasn’t looking for escape. Rather, she struggled against her bindings in an attempt to reach out to him - to touch him as he touched her.
He paused to take in the sight of her black lace undergarments, appreciating the delicate fabric and the lewd implication that she’d donned them deliberately. A dark chuckle fell from the man as he hooked a single finger beneath the band of her bra, right at the point where her breasts met and pulled the fabric away from her form. “Tell me, cheri. Did you intend to spend your evening beneath me?”
She didn’t respond, only turning her head to the side and looking away from him. 
“Now, now.” He gripped her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to meet his gaze. His tone was akin to a parent chastising their child. “It’s rude to ignore someone who’s speaking to you. Especially when you’re at their mercy.” The ripping of fabric punctuated his statement as her bra was shredded, her breasts bouncing free with nipples hardening in the cool air.
“I could tell you were suffering, what with the time of year and all.”  Her voice came as a whisper, as if she were afraid of admitting to her knowledge of his rut.
Alastor sighed, his knee moving to bring some much needed friction to her clothed core. His trousers grew damp where he rubbed, her arousal soaking into the fabric. “What a foolish little doe you are, cheri.” Sitting upward, his pinstripe tailcoat was removed and tossed aside. His eyes took on a darker hue as he began to release his tie. “I am going to enjoy devouring you.”
The moment he’d finished the statement, the shadow tentacles pulled her limbs apart - spreading her wide for him. Removing his shirt and then her panties, he trailed a finger along the scarlet stripes on her side. Sticky blood gathered on his digit, which was quickly brought to waiting lips. Wrapping his tongue around the extremity, he hummed in approval. 
“Delicious.” 
An audible gulp came from the female as she watched the man before her with lidded eyes, her pupils blown wide. Two of the tentacles slithered up her form, encircling her breasts with a tight squeeze. A deep moan erupted from her throat as the shadow appendages began to move, squishing and manipulating the tender flesh whilst the tips toyed with her perked nipples in unison. Her breath came in pants, fists clenching and releasing as she allowed the pleasure to wash over her. 
The welcome ministrations happening at her tits had distracted the woman, who failed to notice Alastor moving downwards. She missed the sensation of his hands massaging their way from her torso to her thighs, nor did she notice when the man positioned his upper body between her legs. Only when she felt his tongue slide through her folds did she let out a surprised gasp. Looking down, she finally took note of the head of crimson hair buried between her limbs.
Alastor’s ears were laid flat as his mouth worked on her, lapping at the slick of her heat. His lips engulfed her pussy in a passionate kiss to her lower lips, tongue darting inside as his nose brushed her clit. His sharp nails dug into the skin of her thighs when her hips began to buck, holding her still against his face as he continued to eat her out.
He consumed her like a man starved, savoring the flavor of her arousal. Lewd slurping sounds filled the air as he continued to lick and suck at her center, eliciting moans with every breath the female took. Moving upwards, his lips came to rest around her bundle of nerves whilst two long fingers entered her now soaking hole. The digits moved in a scissoring fashion as he pumped them within her, his mouth providing suction to her clit.
It wasn’t long before she unraveled on his fingers, a sharp whine shuddering from her body as her walls convulsed. Alastor continued his actions, working her through her orgasm until finally she settled. Withdrawing from her, his lips and chin shone with the moisture of her arousal.
When the tentacles holding her in place withdrew, the woman looked surprised. She sat up, attempting to catch her breath as she looked at the bulge in her companion’s pants.
“On all fours, darling.” The order sent a shiver down her spine. 
She complied in silence, turning around to present herself to him. Her juices dripped down her thighs, pussy clenching around nothing as she waited to be taken.
The clinking of metal was the only sound as his belt slipped free of the loops on his trousers, before said garment was unzipped and allowed to crumple on the floor. Finally, his cock sprang free as his bottoms and underwear were kicked aside. The angrily flushed tip weeped beads of precum as he stroked it lazily. 
Climbing atop the bed once more, Alastor settled behind his mate and brought his member to her entrance. Sinking into her slowly, they vocalized in unison. A guttural growl came from deep within the buck’s chest as he bottomed out within her. Laying himself flat against her back, he took her dangling tits into both hands and gripped them as he stilled.
He wanted to savor this feeling - to commit to memory the sensation of her silken walls surrounding his impossibly hard cock. She squeezed him deliciously tight, already milking him before the true fucking had even begun. 
Gently kissing her shoulder, Alastor began to move. His thrusts came slow at first, his dick dragging against her at an agonizing pace as he withdrew until only the tip remained inside before reentering just as gradually. This repeated several times until the woman let out a noise of frustration, her hips jerking backwards in an attempt to increase the pace.
At her sudden movement, Alastor gasped. He hadn’t expected her to try and take charge - especially with him mounting her from behind. He was the male here. Perhaps he needed to remind her of their places in this sensuous act.
Quickly, a clawed hand removed itself from her breast and came to the back of her head before pushing. Her face landed sideways against a pillow, her eyes wide as she looked back at him. 
“Impatient, are we?” The demon’s voice held a malicious edge, his eyes glinting with dark excitement. “Allow me to ruin you then.”
He left no opportunity for her to respond before he began thrusting into her once more, fucking her in earnest. His hips pistoned against her, the squelching of fluids mingled with slapping of skin each time his dick was plowed into her dripping heat. He held her head firmly against the pillow, his other hand ripping flesh at her hip to keep her still. A cry of pained pleasure came from the woman as she took his brutal assault.
Continuing to pummel his doe, Alastor picked her up so they were both upright on their knees. Her legs spread around his as she sat back onto his lap. A hand encircled her throat, choking her sobs as tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. His hips incessantly slapped her ass with each repeated thrust.
Bringing his other hand from her hip, the bloodied palm drug against her chest before his claws pierced her skin once more. Ripping down her front, she screamed in a high-pitched whine that vibrated his hand on her neck. Sanguine rivers now flowed freely, staining the fabric below.
The scent of her spilled blood was now too much to bear. Continuing his brutal pace, the Radio Demon brought his mouth to the conjunction of her shoulder and nape. He needed to taste her again - to feel the thickness of her blood against his tongue. And so he bit down, his dagger sharp teeth sinking into feverish skin. Salt was the first thing he tasted as her sweat mixed with his saliva before a metallic taste bloomed within his hungry maw.
“A-Alastor!” She screamed, one of her hands quickly tangling into his locks. Her other palm slapped against his upper leg, supporting her unsteady weight. Her eyes closed as she hissed from the pain. But oh, did it hurt so good.
Drinking greedily, he began to choke her in earnest. He couldn’t have the other hotel residents overhearing. The hand in his hair moved to grip one of his antlers, its twin now clawing at the fingers cutting off her air supply. 
When her feeble offense against his vice grip began to lesson and the  hold on his bony outcropping waned, Alastor knew she was close to passing out. He could also tell she was close to her second orgasm, the increasing force with which her pussy clamped around him signaling imminent release. And so, he withdrew himself from her and released his chokehold. The wine that accompanied her gasps for air was almost heartwrenching.
Tears now freely fell down her reddened cheeks as she struggled to hold herself up on both arms. She was shaking, her expression one of hurt and expectancy as she turned to face him.
In an instant, he was on her again. This time, she lay on her back while he held her legs in a folded position with her knees against her chest. Not hesitating for even a moment, he sunk back into her and resumed fucking her with an unrelenting force.
Snarling into her face, his brows furrowed in aggression as he spoke. “I say when you can cum.”
“Y-yes, sir!” She hadn’t missed a beat with her response. Grasping his antlers with both hands, she held on tightly as he continued to take her.
“Good girl.” One of his hands slotted itself into the space where they connected, softly circling her clitorus.
He knew he was close to his own end. After just a few more thrusts, his cock began to twitch within her. Kisses were trailed from her lips down her jaw and to her collar, all the while grunts that crackled with static filled the space between them. Beads of sweat dripped from Alastor’s forehead as he sucked bruising hickies across her skin.
With each mark left in his wake, she whined like a bitch in heat. His body responded to her cries, eager to spill his seed and breed her. 
With the combination of his delicate ministrations against her clit, the pain of his claws and bites, and the pleasure of his dick battering into her, she had become a babbling mess. Single syllables and nonsense words flew from her mouth between pants and moans.
Licking the trails of blood along her chest, he mumbled against the fat of her breast. “Cum with me, Y/n.”
Two more thrusts into her needy cunt and they were both done for. Powerful spurts of cum painted her collapsing walls, coating her insides with his seed. He held onto her tightly, his pelvis pressed firmly against hers as he released deeply into her womanhood with a shouting moan. Wave after wave of blinding pleasure washed over them both as they rode out their highs.
 Collapsing atop her with one last spurt of his cock, Alastor sighed in contentment. Panting heavily and burying his face into her neck, they both began to come down into a glorious afterglow. 
“Feeling better?” Her arms were wrapped around his torso in a warm, loving embrace as her fingers traced mindless swirls across the expanse of his back. 
“Much better, my dear.”
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little-lynx · 1 year
Text
EVERLARK OUTFITS: THE VICTORY TOUR
This part of “Catching Fire” is done (finally) so I put it all together;) DISTRICT 11, THE SQUARE
I go to my compartment and let the prep team do my hair and makeup. Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. <…> As the train is pulling into the District 11 station, Cinna puts the finishing touches on my outfit, switching my orange hairband for one of metallic gold and securing the mockingjay pin I wore in the arena to my dress. <…> I can hear the anthem beginning outside in the square. Someone clips a microphone on me. Peeta takes my left hand. // Catching Fire, ch. 4
I think this dress should be a little semi-official so I choose cape sleeve sheath midi dress. It’s perfect for autumn (and they have early autumn weather there in 11th). The hair is just plain + gold hairband = girlish innocent look like the one after the games (this tactics they choose for the Tour). Plus I wanted to draw Katniss with her natural straight hair because i draw her with her braid usually ;) And again nothing about Peeta’s outfit. You know I feel like Portia 😅 because I have to choose how to dress Peeta. I’m not complaining through. So it is black suit with golden buttons (matching Katniss’s hairband and pin), thin soft orange sweater and black leather shoes.
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DISTRICT 11, THE DINNER
A pale pink strapless dress brushes my shoes. My hair is pinned back from my face and falling down my back in a shower of ringlets. Cinna comes up behind me and arranges a shimmering silver wrap around my shoulders. He catches my eye in the mirror. “Like it?”  “It's beautiful. As always,” I say. “Let's see how it looks with a smile,” he says gently. // Catching Fire, ch.5
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DISTRICT 7
Jackson has devised a game called «Real or Not Real» to help Peeta. He mentions something he thinks happened, and they tell him if it’s true or imagined, usually followed by a brief explanation. <...> But since Peeta’s greatest confusion centers around me—and not everything can be explained simply—our exchanges are painful and loaded, even though we touch on only the most superficial of details. The color of my dress in 7. My preference for cheese buns. The name of our math teacher when we were little. Reconstructing his memory of me is excruciating. Perhaps it isn’t even possible after what Snow did to him. But it does feel right to help him try. // Mockingjay, ch. 19
So we have only one sentence in “Mockingjay” about this outfit. And still I decided to draw it because I have a theory (head canon?) about it. I think Peeta remembers the color of her dress because it was special night for him (a lot of kisses and attempts to sneak away from everyone and maybe it felt very real at times) and also because she had two braids and the dress was red. RED is the color ❤️. / Peeta has dark red + black + a little bit gold which is also sexy color combination.
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DISTRICT 5 I volunteer to take Annie back to my house in 12, where Cinna left a variety of evening clothes in a big storage closet downstairs. All of the wedding gowns he designed for me went back to the Capitol, but there are some dresses I wore on the Victory Tour.  <…> Annie wears a green silk dress I wore in 5, Finnick one of Peeta’s suits that they altered— the clothes are striking. <…>  As surely as the embroidery stitches in Annie’s gown were done by Cinna’s hand, the frosted flowers on the cake were done by Peeta’s.  // Mockingjay, ch. 16
Katniss: green silk dress + wavy sleeves + sea waves embroidery / Peeta: ivory dress shirt + knitted green waistcoat with sea waves embroidery + tweed suit
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DISTRICT 2
Girl talk. That thing I've always been so bad at. Opinions on clothes, hair, makeup. So I lie. “Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line. You should see what he can do with velvet.” Velvet. The only fabric. I could think of off the top of my head. “I have. On your tour. That strapless number you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back,” says Johanna. // Catching Fire, Chapter 15
This description gave me strong “Anastasia” feels 😅. So I loosely based Katniss dress on Anastasia’s ballet evening gown. For Peeta I chose tuxedo jacket similar to Salvatore Ferragamo design for FF 12/13.  Neo classic, purple velvet, shiny shoes. Also I decided to include a cane, both to help Peeta to have some rest during all this Tour activities and as an accessory.
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DISTRICT 12
When we reach the mayor's house, I only have time to give Madge a quick hug before Effie hustles me off to the third floor to get ready. After I'm prepped and dressed in a full-length silver gown, I've still got an hour to kill before the dinner, so I slip off to find her. <…> She [Madge] saw my reflection behind her and smiled. “Look at you. Like you came right off the streets of the Capitol.” // Catching Fire, ch.6
When I started drawing this one I just felt that I need to make it look very “Capitol”. So I added some feathers. A LOT of sparkling feathers, haha. Also there are some “moon and stars” accessories in Katniss’ hair because this silver gown gives me moonlight vibes. For Peeta I came up with classic suit but made him wear it casually.
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iutdwae · 7 months
Text
— toned.
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pairing. bangchan x (afab)reader
cw. thigh / ab riding, size kink and mutual pining if you squint, hints of sub!chan, chan is so desperate when it comes to your pleasure </3 poor baby comes in his pants ><  friends to… something..? kinda pwop because i'm sleepy and i just really love the idea of grinding on chan's abs :<
word count. 1.5k
[ i had to come out of my 3 year tumblr writing hiatus because this has been on my mind for so long, and that picture that changbin had posted of his back did not help at all… ] 
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chan's rapid change of physique came to no one's surprise. given his role as an idol, you knew how much he valued being "presentable," to be the visually strong leader of a group of equally strong men. he'd started to spend more time at the gym, and in return, his build had more of an effect on you than you liked to admit: competent abs, the firm muscle lining his torso. the way his skin dips and curves, begging to be seen whenever he lifts his shirt up "innocently," but you swear it's an invitation every time.
suggestive complaints spilled from his plump lips about how sore his body is from his training earlier, the sweat still drying on him as the musk lingers. he's tempting and he knows he is, sleeves rolled up to accentuate his broad shoulders. his arms bulged as they cross over his body. "it's still hot," he excuses, but you know he wants you to take note of the way his veins texture his skin.
yet chan has the audacity to act flustered when you compliment the muscle he's worked so hard for. it's his routine, even in front of the camera: show off just to hide behind his fingers, that familiar red tint flushing his cheeks. but it's obvious he's putting on a front this time. he wants you to need him, too prideful to take you for himself. he's purposely stretching his body upwards, skillful in how he lets a sultry groan fall from his tongue while the hem of his black shirt rides up his waist to expose his defined v line, tantalizingly disappearing into the fabric of his sweatpants. 
he has the audacity to act smug when you find yourself hopelessly rubbing against his clothed thigh, perched on top of him while your fingers ghost the lines of his abs. one of your hands grasps at his shoulders, nails digging into his delicate skin as one of his own rests gently on your hips, feeling the way you roll against him. his shirt had long been discarded, courtesy of your desperation as well as his discreet eagerness. 
"you're so beautiful, princess," he coos lowly, brows furrowed and eyes hazy as he watches your expression. his cock is straining against his pants, just as sore as he claimed his body was, and you can physically feel how wet your pussy is each time you rock your hips forward. "y'like getting off knowing i'm all yours, don't you?" 
you'd never had a preference for body type, but chan's build seemed to break you as you watched it develop; squirming at the mentions of his measurements, wide shoulders with a pretty waist, perfectly sectioned abs adorning his stomach. it was something about him in particular that had you craving him. he was nothing short of a gentleman, respectful and ideal. the type of man you knew your parents would approve of immediately. chris is careful with his words, knows exactly what to say and when to assure everyone he's acquainted with knows that he is no hassle.
perhaps, in some sinister, perverted fashion, it's his pleasantries that had you thinking of your best friend in ways that were animalistic in more ways than one. you caught onto every single one of his innuendos, all of the subtle gestures that you interpreted as bait, that made you wonder how tainted his mind was behind his polite and polished demeanor. watching him carry the weight of his members around on stage with nothing more than a soft breath, you couldn't help but let your mind wander, would he be able to manhandle you with that same ease?
soon enough, he'd slipped your pants off, though instead of settling back onto his thigh, you were straddling his torso, sore cunt draped right on top of his abs. chan let out a guttural whimper at the feeling of wet heat sliding across his stomach, clit catching along the dips of his muscle that sent static down your spine; both of you are sensitive, him in ways he couldn't really explain. "fucking love your pussy, baby," he gasped, dark eyes peering up longingly through long lashes. although there’s no pressure against his waist, he bucks up anyway, rutting his hips into thin air to counteract your own motions. large hands grasp your hips, thighs, ass, anything chan can reach from where he’s leaning back against the couch. “you’re so pretty getting off on me.” he’s desperate to feel more of you, latching onto any skin he can grope, his palms roaming aimlessly around your frame as they dip in and out from underneath your shirt. 
meanwhile, you’re just as lost in the moment as the male is: hips stuttering as you grind down on his stomach, his hardened abs providing the perfect amount of pressure and rigidness that your cunt practically cried for. the soft pants that escaped your mouth matched chan’s rhythmically, whines coated with lust and neediness. you hadn’t been far from the truth, at least it didn’t feel like it when your best friend was just as turned on, grunting as he tried to nudge his clothed erection against you. 
chan still upheld his chivalrous personality, even when his dick was painfully straining on his pants; he didn’t dare disrupt your chase towards your orgasm, moaning lowly as he watched your brows cinch, eyes clamped shut with your mouth gaped open. “gonna come all over me, huh?” he breathed out, sweat beading at his temple. the way your pussy slipped so easily along his abs made him dizzy, sopping wet and sticky against his skin. it was so much more than what he always imagined when he fucked himself into his hand, drunk on the way you used his body like this was what he’d worked so hard for—for you to come all over the muscle he trained for months to develop, leaving red streaks under your nails along his defined back and grasping onto him as roughly as he was groping you. 
you could feel his abdomen tensing between your legs, laying more of your weight onto the male as your thrusts became more fervid and sloppy. your clit was caught right between the ridges of his abs, rocking back and forth as wanton cries fell from your lips to echo his own. with the way you were fucking yourself onto him, he would’ve assumed you were just making up for a lack of proper pleasure; though in reality, you’d just been thinking about how he’d fuck you since the very beginning of your friendship. 
“channie, i’m so close,” you barely manage in the midst of your cries, the sound of your pussy lathering his skin in wetness loud enough for the both of you to hear. what you can’t see behind you is the obvious tent in chan’s pants, going unnoticed for the time being. it’s carnal and shameful the way you’re getting off on each other, his desperate attempts to fuck against you leaving him looking like a dog in heat all while your hips move rapidly on his torso. 
his grasp tightened on your hips, guiding you as he pushes your weight further down onto him, and he’s rewarded by the loud gasp you let out as your body shudders. “come on me, princess. show me how good i make you feel.” chan’s sitting upwards now, his touch trailing up your sides as his eyes never leave you for a second. one hand, thankfully, makes its way between your thighs, his finger rubbing at your clit and he almost moans out loud at how wet you feel under his touch. “c’mon, i’m all yours, baby. let it out.” 
what chan doesn’t expect is for himself to come too, immediately after watching your orgasm seep into the lines of his muscles, pussy fluttering and red at the sudden stimulation. he can feel his own cum pressed against the tip of his cock, staining the front of his pants with a relieved groan. and he can feel the slight burn of the scratches you left on his back while you’re coming down from your high in the security of his large arms. you can only mumble sniffled thank you’s to him while he holds you right against his chest, though he can’t help but rut up against you while you’re properly situated on his lap now. “you did so well for me, pretty,” he reassured you right into your ear, hoping you were too distracted to notice the way he was still trying to grind his cock against you. but the feeling of his wet sweatpants was unmistakable against your bare cunt. you’d speculated that chan had pretty good stamina, and it seemed to prove right when he’s eagerly sliding his sweats off to properly show you just how good he can make you feel.
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the-modern-typewriter · 3 months
Note
Hello! Would you be willing to write about someone who finds out that their roommate and childhood best friend is actually some kind of supernatural creature? Preferably m/m but its okay if you’d like to change the genders.
Have a nice day!!!
"You're...uh...wow."
Maybe Holden should be horrified, but all he could really do was stare, dumbly entranced. The staring wasn't that different to normal, if he was going to be really horribly honest with himself.
But Atlas also wasn't normally crouched near stark-bollocks naked in the middle of their dorm room. He didn’t normally have dark, gorgeous wings unfurling from his back. He didn’t normally stare at Holden with eyes that had gone from blue to literally black too. Hungry. Heated.
Holden hastily shut the door behind him before someone else on the floor saw.
"Are you, uh, okay, man?"
His best friend was, very clearly, not okay. His gaze tracked every small movement that Holden made.
"You," Atlas growled through his teeth. "Are not supposed to be here."
"Right. Yeah. Uh. My class was—" Holden lost his trail of thought as he continued to stare. "God,” he said, a little dizzy, “you look incredible."
Five-year old Atlas had been funny and brave. Nineteen-year old Atlas also had the absolute gall to be stunning on top of that. It was, frankly, terrible on a night out. On his own, Holden did okay. When he was standing next to Atlas though, more and more as the years passed by, he may as well have been a potato. He couldn't even hold it against anyone. He did enough trying not to stare himself.
But...he definitely hadn't noticed the wings before. He would have noticed wings, right? Even with that smile and those cheekbones to distract.
He realised, dazedly, that he'd drifted closer. One step, two step, three, until he was standing right over Atlas. Close enough to touch.
"Get out." Atlas sounded strained. "Now." His fingers – his claws – dug into the threadbare carpet.
Holden wanted to run his fingers through Atlas's blond hair. He wanted to kiss his parted lips, the line of his jaw, the beautiful curve of his throat. He wanted to touch every inch of Atlas that he could. He wanted Atlas's hands on him, sure and just as smitten as Holden had been for years, and he'd do anything, offer anything if—
"Holden."
The sharp snap of his name cleared Holden's mind a little. He shook his head and backed up. "Sorry. I—"
What the hell was he doing? Heat rose to his cheeks, mortified.
There were a lot of reactions one could have to seeing their best friend suddenly sprout wings, but Holden was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to just drool over his roommate like some kind of neanderthal. He'd done such a good job of not letting his stupid feelings impact their stupid friendship until stupid now too.
It wasn't like he'd never caught a glimpse of Atlas without his clothes before. It had never made him like – he would never have – but would it be so bad if he just—?
No. Something was definitely wrong.
Holden whirled around, heading back for the door. He'd opened it only a crack when Atlas's hand slammed down on it, shutting it again. The lock clicked as Atlas bracketed him with an arm on either side. They weren’t quite touching, but they were close enough that he could feel the heat of Atlas against his back.
He hadn't even heard Atlas move. His breath hitched.
Atlas groaned. He let his head thunk against the door, above Holden's left shoulder, as he drew in ragged gasps.
Holden heard him swearing and muttering under his breaths. He caught a few words that’s sounded suspiciously like ‘bloody scheming bastard vampires’ and a much more familiar ‘shitshitshit’.
Up close, Atlas’s new cologne was…was it cologne? Holden’s head felt cloudy again. He dug his nails into his palms, desperately shoving down the truly ridiculous urge to turn around and kiss Atlas immediately.
“What the hell is happening?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You have wings. You have – I feel –”
“You’re supposed to be in class for the next three hours!”
“My class was cancelled,” Holden said. “Some last minute—”
Atlas caught hold of his hips, spinning him as if it was absolutely nothing, pressing him back against the door.
The bit of Holden’s brain that wasn’t too busy with oh, yes please reminded him that Atlas was not that bloody strong. He should not be able to do that. He always skipped the gym when Holden went, despite looking like that.
“What are you?” The obvious question finally penetrated the fog.
Atlas’s attention lingered on his lips, seeming…distracted.
“Incubus,” he murmured. He’d always had a nice voice, but in that moment, that word, it was like caramel. Sweet on Holden’s senses. “God, you’re pretty. Sharing a room was a terrible idea.”
It took a second for the actual response to register, let alone the rest.
Incubus.
“What?” Holden yelped.
It was all some elaborate joke.
(Atlas didn’t do pranks.)
It was impossible.
(Those wings looked very real, no matter how impossible they were.)
How had it taken 14 years for him to notice his best friend was an incubus?
(Did that mean he didn’t really have a crush on his best friend? It was just – what he was?)
Atlas’s fingers grazed just slightly beneath Holden’s jumper, blazing hot against the skin above his hips.
Holden asked no coherent questions whatsoever. He didn’t even manage an incoherent word. Every reasonable thing he should have been considering vanished in a haze.
His best friend was an incubus? Sure! Whatever. Nothing mattered except the fact that there was really far too much distance between them. Atlas’s mouth was right there and – Holden couldn’t have said which of them initiated the kiss, but it was ravenous and he was putty against the door. Head empty. All need and greed and wanting. He finally got to tangle his fingers into Atlas’s always annoyingly perfect hair and –
The lock clicked.
Faster than Holden could fully comprehend, the door was open and Atlas had bodily shoved him into the corridor. He landed sprawling and ungraceful on his butt.
He had a second to peer up, bewildered, at the look of absolute raw desire on Atlas’s face before the door slammed shut. The lock clicked again.
The texts pinged on his phone a moment later.
Don’t come back until I say so.
Will explain later.
Sorry.
Well, crap.
Holden pressed a hand to his mouth, catching his breath and his sanity with Atlas out of view. Then he went to the uni library to research everything he could about incubi.
By the time Atlas texted him that evening, he was ready.
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Text
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
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summary: when you ask about your boyfriend's home, you get more than you bargained for; but considering it's him, you don't mind, right?
pairing: jade x gn! reader
warnings: fluff, a little suggestive, nonsexual nudity; i’m suffering from a serious case of eel on the brain so you must suffer with me; can’t stop thinking about bioluminescent eel brothers and just mixed that in with jade’s ceremonial robes home screen lines
twisted wonderland masterlist
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“I’m captivated by the human custom of changing clothes to suit the occasion,” Jade hummed as deft fingers tied your previously crooked tie and then straightened out the collar of your uniform shirt. “It reminds me of fish who change their scales to match their environment.”
“That sounds like an interesting ability to have,” you chuckled as you combed the long black strand of hair behind his ear, mesmerised by the way the ambient light of the nearly empty Mostro Lounge reflected in his heterochromic eyes. Even with him sitting down and you standing between his legs, he was tall enough to where you were nearly on eye-level. “I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess mers don’t really wear clothes then?”
“It depends on the mer, really, though accessorising is far more common than what you humans would consider clothes. Those in brighter waters seem to enjoy bejewelling themselves for outings, though it doesn’t serve much of a purpose in the deep.” Jade smiled, though this smile lacked the usual nerve-wrecking edge it held when others were around. When he was satisfied with his work, his hands slid down to rest on your waist. 
“On top of having to learn how to walk, having to wear all these layers of clothing must have felt really restricting,” you said, your hand mapping the path from his jaw down to his shoulder to play with the lapels of his blazer. “Though I have to say, you do look very good in your school uniform.”
“Fufu, you flatter me, my pearl,” the merman chuckled. “Even so, you look much more lovely in anything you wear. I’m still not accustomed to clothes with excess fabric. My people aren’t like aquarium fish with their long tail fins, after all.”
“I’m still in awe you managed to pull off this transformation of body and habitat so gracefully,” you thought out loud. “If my living conditions changed so drastically, I would’ve felt like a fish out of water… Quite literally, I guess.”
“Admittedly, those first months were rather rough, that’s true. But the world above the Coral Sea holds so many new experiences, I do not regret my decision.” His hands gently squeezed your sides at that, his eyes never leaving yours. Faintly you wondered whether his people could enrapture humans with just their gaze or if it was your own heart which rendered you defenceless against him.
“I’m also glad you came here, Jade,” you confessed, voice coming out barely above a whisper. This time you couldn’t stop your palms from cupping his cheeks between them as he brought you just close enough to where Azul couldn’t reprimand him for indecency. “Would you mind telling me more about the differences you experienced? I want to learn more about your home, too.”
“Gladly,” the moray smiled at you and it warmed your heart despite the hint of sharp teeth showing through. “Let’s see… Ah, I enjoy looking up at the stars, especially when out in the mountains. It’s a very different feeling than from the ocean and it makes me forget the passage of time, even though I have no particular interest in astrology.”
“Sounds like a date in the making, if you ask me,” you grinned knowingly. Every so often, Jade pestered you into switching clubs to the mountain lovers club and while you had yet to relent, you did join him on hikes frequently.  
“I will hold you to that,” he promised, eyes crinkling at the edges as if he had gotten just what he wanted. Knowing him, he probably had been gunning for exactly that without you noticing. “Now then, what else did I find astounding when I first came here? Most of it are probably minor things to you, like sneezing, cracking your joints or getting a sunburn. Still hearing the first two was very alarming initially. Azul and I thought Floyd had broken a bone.”
“To be fair, sometimes it does sound like something went incredibly wrong when someone cracks their spine or neck,” you shuddered, reminded of the sounds Ace and Deuce had produced in the past which had you halfway to the nurses office already. “A sunburn must have been a nasty surprise though.”
“That it was,” Jade sighed. “There’s hardly anything worse than drying out for a merman, so we didn’t spend much time in the sun anyway. But to learn that a human’s skin is so easily burned by something they need for their health… Speaking of sunlight, considering it does not reach the depths of my home, everything seemed excessively bright up here too in the beginning.”
“Woah, maybe I underestimated how cold and dark your home is, by my standards at least. Like, no sunlight at all? I’d probably freeze,” you laughed, goosebumps forming under your blazer and shirt at the mere thought.
“Hm, I guess it must seem so to you. When I first learnt about the summer temperatures at land I also thought it wouldn’t be bearable,” Jade chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes that you couldn’t place yet. “But an environment devoid of light gives way to many new possibilities in which life can evolve. Sure, you have to always be on guard for what’s lurking around the next corner but you also get to appreciate the colourful glow of bioluminescent fish and plants.”
“The first part sounds terrifying, to be quite honest.” You knew he only ever brought these things up to get a reaction out of you but you still wondered what his life was like to be able to say it with such a calm expression. Instead, you chose to focus on something more pleasant. “Though the bioluminescence sounds beautiful. Back home there were beaches where algae turned the sand and waves a fluorescent blue, so I wonder what it would look like underwater.”
“Would you like to see?” Jade asked, one hand sneaking from your waist to intertwine his fingers with yours. Anticipation was almost tangible in the air, yet you couldn’t figure out why for the life you. So despite the hairs on your neck standing on end, you nodded. Immediately, Jade had risen to his full height and was pulling you along through Octavinelle’s winding hallways.
“Jade! Where are we going?” You laughed, not expecting the sudden switch up. Though that was probably on you; despite hiding it much better than his brother, Jade still tended to do only what was fun to him. 
“Oh, you’ll see,” your boyfriend smiled conspiratorially over his shoulder, eyes twinkling like a kid’s on Christmas. He was seriously cute when he got excited about something, even if it meant finding yourself at the end of his teasing more often than not. Considering he was very fond of growing all sorts of things in his terrariums, perhaps he had managed to raise some sort of luminescent plant and this was a ploy for him to gush about his terrariums? 
Confusion set in once more, however, when you walked in a different direction than his room. Sure, you didn’t know the structure of Octavinelle all too well but you’d think you’d find the one room you had visited most in the dorm. Wracking your brain in order to figure out what was happening in his, you almost bumped into the moray as he came to a halt in front  of one of the many doors. You had never been here before, so you braced yourself for any- and everything as he twisted the doorknob.
The first thing you noticed was the smell of salt and the humidity in the air. Then you noted how you couldn’t see anything in the pitch black darkness. As if he heard your thoughts, a small, dim light flickered on above, revealing tiled floors leading up to a large pool. Of course Octavinelle would have a pool of this size. 
Following Jade to the edge of the pool, you peered into the water to find only your reflection staring back at you from the water, the lack of light turning it from clear to near intransparent.
“Seems kinda of irresponsible to cultivate plants or fish in a school swimming pool, don’t you think?” You voiced your doubts as you remembered why you came here in the first place. “How deep is this thing anyway? I can’t see anything in there.”
“Who said anything about fish or plants?” Jade’s chuckle reverberated around the room from behind you and when you turned to see what was so funny, you saw him neatly folding his uniform blazer before starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Wait, hold on.” You held up your hands as you tried putting one and one together, just to end up at three. “Not that I particularly mind where this is going but what’s happening right now?”
There was a shit-eating grin stretching across Jade’s lips and revealing his sharp teeth as he shrugged off his shirt, sauntering over to where you were standing as he slipped his gloves off. 
“Didn’t you say you wanted to see bioluminescence for yourself?” At his newfound proximity, you quickly averted your eyes from his swimmer’s body, to feign at least some form of decency, which seemed to amuse him even more. “Have I never told you that my people possess a form of bioluminescence ourselves?”
“You conveniently forgot to mention that.”
“An oversight on my part, my apologies,” Jade hummed, a hand placed over his heart, sounding not sorry at all.
“That aside, it’s not like I brought any swimwear,” you sighed, looking at his eyes and decidedly nowhere else. “Nor can I breathe or open my eyes in saltwater.”
Out of thin air, seemingly, Jade procured a small phial of shimmering liquid; the same one Azul had given to you when you went to the Coral Sea. At his unreadable smile, you raised an eyebrow but nonetheless took the potion from him. “How much of this did you plan out?”
“Fufu, do you really think I would carefully steer a conversation a certain way just to give me an excuse to bring you here?” When your answer was a resounding ‘yes’, he grinned even wider. “I see, this is the impression you have of me.”
“Also, this still doesn’t solve our first predicament,” you reminded him, yet already finding your resolve to deny him weakening. Damn the effect he had on you.
“I can’t see the predicament you speak of at all,” Jade mused, hands landing on your hips again as his fingers pinched the fabric of your uniform. “Perhaps this is a good chance for you to experience how a merperson would feel, swimming freely without any restrictive layers. You were so eager to learn earlier.”
“Jade Leech, are you suggesting I go skinny dipping in a public college pool?” You only received a closed-eye smile as a response as his hands tugged more of your shirt out of your pants. “I can’t believe you. And I can’t believe myself for going along with this…”
The vice housewarden was more than okay with undoing his former handiwork and helping you out of your tie, blazer and shirt. When it was time to remove the rest of your clothes, he left you to your own devices to do the same. For a second you contemplated leaving on your underwear but decided against it at the thought of having to walk back to your dorm with it either soaked or missing.
A splash behind you drew your attention as you draped your last article of clothing over the back of a chair you had found and you chugged down the potion, then ambled over to the pool’s edge again. Dipping your toes in, you breathed a sigh of relief when the water wasn’t too frigid, yet still settled for sitting down and hanging your legs in first.
After a minute or so of acclimating to the temperature, you wondered where your boyfriend had gone, unable to see anything in the dark water. Just then, a cold hand wrapped around your ankle. Despite knowing what -or rather who- it was, you still jerked your leg upwards, but it wasn’t like you got very far, Jade’s strength keeping you exactly where you were. A pair of mismatched eyes stared at you from right under the surface before Jade’s head emerged and broke through the water’s surface. 
“Looks like I caught myself a pearl,” he mused before gliding his webbed fingers up your bare claves, sending a jolt up your spine, but not from the coldness. Crossing his arms over your knees, he laid his head down on them so he could look at you properly, his bare chest resting against your legs. If it weren’t for the long shadow of his tail moving right under the water’s surface, he would have reminded you of an overgrown housecat.
“Oh no, whatever shall I do now?” You played along, running your hand through his wet, teal hair and gently caressing the fins where his ears would be. Sighing under your touch, his long nails absentmindedly traced over your thighs, careful not to  hurt you. “Please don’t eat me.”
Cracking his left eye open at your teasing, he pressed a lingering kiss above your knee, his teeth lightly gracing the skin there as he pulled away. Definitely not enough to hurt in any way, but enough to remind you of the danger he could pose; a notion that sent adrenaline racing through your body for all the wrong reasons. He winked at you, maybe as a promise for later. “We’ll see about that.”
As he parted from you, he pushed himself up in a display of awe-inspiring core strength and pulled you against him by your waist and thighs, taking you with him as he slowly sank under the surface again. Your hands tried finding purchase on his shoulders, yet continued to slip over the slick covering his skin. Jade, however, had no difficulties holding on to you.
On instinct you had closed your eyes and held your breath as you submerged but the careful caress of a thumb over your cheekbone prompted you to open them and take a tentative lungful of air. Just as back in the Coral Sea, the sensation was weird and unfamiliar but you didn’t drown, which you noted down as a pro.
Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue as you looked at Jade. Bright spots glowed on his chest and the stripes running over his ribs glowed in an equally stunning teal. Backing up so he was a good arm’s length away, you studied the rest of him, finding that the stripes over his hips as well as clusters of spots on his arms and fins all seemed to be luminescent.
“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, yet he still pulled you flush against his torso again. Without much hesitation you started tracing the constellations you could reach. “They’re like stars.”
The moray was glad you couldn’t see his face from your position for an uncharacteristically genuine expression of shock decorated his face. Nobody back at home had ever complimented him so genuinely without any ulterior motives. Yes, he had been the one who instigated this little stunt but he hadn’t factored in that you always managed to tug on his heartstrings in the end. At first, he had been a little wary, wondering what you thought about his merform, especially after he had chased you around the sea like this before, but he realised he shouldn’t have worried.
“And you flatter me yet again,” he chuckled instead, tone and expression back to his usual show of amusement. Still, he looped his long tail around your middle once as his hands wandered over your curves and stroked along your skin that was so much more delicate compared to his. “Should I perhaps be wary that you are lowering my defences for nefarious reasons?”
“Ah and here I was hoping you wouldn't notice,” you sighed, fingertips brushing over the bright spots littering his tail as you held his gaze, his yellow eye almost glowing against the darkness that surrounded you. “Despite all the warnings I’ve intended to steal from you. This, to be precise.”
Maybe it was the fact it was just the two of you down here and the rest of the world was forgotten, that drove you to be so straightforward and sappy. But the rhythmic beating of his heart underneath your palm dispelled any feelings of shyness or awkwardness at the -frankly cliché- confession of affection. 
Not that Jade seemed to mind either. Before you caught up to what was happening he closed the gap between you and pressed his lips against yours. Perhaps taking the potion earlier was inconsequential after all as Jade moved with the intention of robbing you of all air anyway, the webbed fingers on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wanted you. You cursed your lungs for burning with the need for oxygen, never having yearned for gills as much as in this moment, if it meant you could keep kissing him for just a second longer. Before he parted from you completely he bit down on your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but just so to leave it tingling from his attention. 
“What a silly little darling,” Jade mused, tracing the shallow indents of his teeth with the pad of his thumb as he drank up the expression on your face. The coil of his tail around you grew just a tad tighter, yet still careful not to hurt you, as a sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him. “Everybody knows you can’t steal what’s already yours.”
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dmitriene · 28 days
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cw: mentions of groping and attempts at harassment, reader stays her ground, simon falls in love and kind of a horny mutt, smut is not the main curse.
simon keeps his distance from relationships, he has enough problems of his own, he rarely stays in one place because of deployments, and very often risks his life.
until simon observes a situation in a bar that turns his world upside down, making him feel a prickly warmth in his lower stomach and a whirlwind of thoughts consisting only of the same words
— “she's gonna be mine„
it was so easy, you only had to go to the bar for the first time in a long time to unwind, only to get caught by an annoying, nasty guy who didn't want to stop trying to touch you and whisper nasty compliments to you like — “your tits looks so good in this shirt„ “wanna get out of here with me?„ “don't play hard to get„
until it all turned into screams and pig squeals, as soon as you poured the drink from your hands on his gross self, ruining not only his clothes, leaving them sticky, but also his image, attracting the attention of almost all the customers and also the bartender, a clever one who immediately called for help to get the man out before he did anything worse, not to mention his squeals about — “fucking bitch! that how you react to some attention?!„
it's really easy, responding with rudeness to rudeness and not tolerating humiliation just for the sake of saving face, not even yours, in public, instead keeping your nerve and addressing rude people in their own language, before wiping your hands with a napkin and going back to relaxing by ordering another drink.
and simon is not at all ashamed to admit to himself that the whole performance, carefully followed by his thawed chocolate eyes, not only made him aroused, which caused him to fidget in the seat, spreading his legs wider and squeezing the prominent bulge in his pants, tenting against the fabric of the black jeans —
but also allowed him to imagine how it would have been in different circumstances, yelling at him about completely different things — while being on top of him, riding his fat cock with rough rolls of your round hips and loud slaps of your plush ass against his relaxed, muscular thighs, the warm, gummy walls of your cunny clench around his meaty cock so good, making him go delirious with just one imagination how hot you would sound with his name and orders slipping past your soft, bitten from his hungry mouth, lips — “h — haa, yesyesyes, simon! stay just like that, s' good!„
it's all enough to make simon break out of his habitual image in which he tries to keep a low profile, he calls the waiter to ask him to extend your drink at his expense, and it's really more than enough for simon, because you don't hesitate to find his gaze among the numerous tables when you're told that another cocktail you didn't ask for is a compliment from another customer, and simon doesn't hide his communion either.
he catches your gaze back, feeling a thrilling shiver in his body, and raises his glass of bourbon to the thin line of pale lips that spread into a smile of their own, accord when he sees your biased squint, but even though his slightly intimidating balaclava and broad physique, you nod, thankfully, your lips moving in silent gratitude — “thank's, sir„
that was his green flag, to sit in the bar until you were about to leave, leaving the room and his line of sight, slipping out if only for a moment, because simon couldn't let you go home alone after all that, coming out after you and as gently as possible touching your shoulder to make you turn, your gaze falling onto his warm eyes before processing the hoarse words he said
— “le' me wolk you home, hm? nothing more, jus' a safe wolk, lovie?„
and will you refuse? after all, no matter how hard you try to think otherwise, something in his whole form inspires of unexpected safety, so maybe he's the one who will be your normal company tonight.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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femmefatalevibe · 10 months
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Femme Fatale Guide: Lingerie Essentials Every Women Should Own
Simple everyday bra and underwear sets in black and nude that match your skin tone: Think of items like a lined bra and seamless thong/bikini panty set. My favorites are the SKIMS Fits Everybody Push-Up Bra paired with the matching Fits Everybody Thong and the Natori Feathers bra paired with the Natori French Cut Briefs.
Sexy yet practical bra and underwear sets: Sexier options you can still wear every day and look good under your clothes. Consider an all-lace or animal print bra with coordinating all-lace or sheer underwear – love the bra options from Chantelle, Natori, Cosabella, and Simone Perele (these are pricey, so I look for them on sale) paired with Natori or Cosabella underwear. My favorite styles are the Natori Push-Up bras (I'm super flat-chested, so I need it for my clothes to fit properly, lol – otherwise the Natori Flora Contour Underwire Bra is stunning) with the Cosabella Never Say Never Comfie Thong & Natori Bliss Allure Lace Full Brief.
Ultra-sexy bra and underwear sets: Less so for clothes, more for yourself or for show. I love Fleur Du Mal for these bra/underwear lingerie sets.
Strapless bra: Natori Feather Strapless Bra. Thank me later!!
Lace bralette: Something comfortable that still feels a bit sexy. I love the options from Journelle, Cosabella, and Natori.
Satin/silk robe: To wear after the shower or around the house. Lilysilk, Victoria's Secret, Cosabella, and Fleur Du Mal have great options.
A quality pair of black tights: I love HUE and Wolford! The control top ones always feel the best for me, personally.
Sheer black thigh-highs with lace-stay-up detailing: Natori Feather range ftw yet again!
Sheer black tights with or without back seam detailing: Hue and Wolford, always!
Simple bodysuit/shapewear bodysuit: The SKIMS ones are great.
Elevated shapewear bodysuit (in a fabric like satin, lace, or vegan leather): I love the Spanx Shaping Satin Thong Bodysuit and the Commando Faux Leather bodysuit – perfect to wear with a pair of jeans and a blazer.
High-waisted sculpting underwear: SKIMS Seamless Sculpt is my favorite (runs on the smaller side!)
Satin slip dress: Can be worn at home or with a blazer/leather jacket for a night out.
Fully lace or lace trim slip dress: If wearing it alone could run someone's life, you're doing it right. Love the one from Cosabella. If you want to wear it out, try a vegan leather bralette, an opaque black brief, and lace or sheer black tights for a "naked" dress look or black pants/denim for a night-out look. Otherwise, save this one to feel sexy while relaxing at home or to wow a partner any night of the week. If you want some ultra-glamorous options, I suggest checking out Oséree but their items are $$$$ as a fair warning.
Satin/silk cami & shorts or pants set: For some equally comfortable and sexy loungewear or pajama options. I love styles with lace trim for that added feminine touch.
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swiftries · 9 months
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NEW INTERESTS
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summary: as business woman barbie, you had to be quite serious and uptight about your field of work. so when you couldn't make it sleepover night, which wasn't unexpected of course ꒰but nevertheless꒱ , stereotypical barbie comes to check up on you.
warning/s: top! barbie, bottom! reader, no smut, but it's implied, fluff/comfort, tired reader, talk of depression, swearing, not proofread, pretend they have genitals btw.
word count: forgot to check lmao
authors note: hi hi hii ! first post omg? i just watched the new barbie movie and..im fucking obsessed, i swear i missed half the movies dialogue tho cause i was admiring margot's gorgeous face. anyway i thought what if we had a super stressed, borderline depressed barbie who just needed a break from her thoughts ? enjoy pookies ! ୨♡୧
+ btw men dni.
navigation ! | ୨♡୧
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the wheels of your pastel pink car came to a stop in your driveway as you sluggishly dragged yourself out of the drivers seat. another long day, another girls night you couldn't deal with. bright lights illuminated the moving bodies on the vast dance floor, pointed stilettos tapping and turning swiftly as stiff hands clapped and clicked to the music.
clutching your purse, you moved across the dance floor, avoiding flapping arms and desperate kens in need of a dance partner. as you got to the last section of your mission, you felt a pair of eyes on you, a pair of eyes that were too familiar for you to shake off. looking over to your far left you found a set ocean blue eyes staring right back at you. the one and only stereotypical barbie. the perfect one, the main bitch of barbieland acknowledging your presence.
conversations between the two of you were very scarce. with you having a very busy work life and her having none at all, you never crossed paths that much. but living right across from her was a given, so conversations at times were necessary.
brushing off the nervous feeling that had crept up on you, you silently scolded yourself for the rosy blush that had quickly painted your cheeks. once again, clutching your purse tighter, you resumed your journey to your apartment in the lively dreamhouse.
the scratched door creaked open as you released your grip on the plastic doorknob. in any other room you can pretty much expect bright pinks and yellows and lovely colors..but not yours. in fact it wasn't the case at all.
black scribble lines all over formerly hot pink walls, torn up grey bed sheets, deflated pillows, a bedside rug that was once a lovely shade of baby blue now a murky lake green, and scratches, whoever was messing with this room had a no sense for care, as this room, this room was desecrated with scratches and marks.
sighing, you flopped unto the creaky mattress, the back of your knees hitting the plastic bed structure. reaching over to your achy feet, you pulled off the black heels that had been causing you anguish the whole day.
dropping your heels, you unzipped your pale pink silk dress, one of the very rare bright pieces of clothing you had left. flinging it over to the other side of the room, you tapped over to your closet, the once shiny, luxurious white structure, scribbled on and vandalised; stripped of its pride. you looked through the distressed drawer that had been left open from the mornings' rush. music flooded into the silence of your room as picked out navy blue pyjama bottoms and a tight fitted white tank top.
as if by magic (no pun intended) , your desired clothing adorned your slim body as you strolled over to your bed, plopping yourself on it and sinking into the mattress.
thoughts clouded your mind like a raging storm, keeping you a prisoner of your own mind. weird barbie said this would happen a lot more so it shouldn't have been unexpected. but it still hit you like a brick every time the thought of stereotypical barbie flooded your head. her plump lips, the crystal blue eyes that locked you in a trance at the slightest glance and her hair, oh god her hair. you just wanted to run your fingers through the golden curls. you wanted to tangle your fingers in it, you wanted to ruin it, you hated how perfect it was.
you hated her. you hated how ken adored her, how everyone was so goddamn drawn to her, it was like the town revolved around her jobless ass. you wanted her. you needed her. you needed her to need you. but you had your ken and she had hers, and that was that.
the last person who uttered a word about a barbie and a barbie or a ken and a ken was weird barbie and look how she turned out. it's not like you weren't weird yourself, with your heels dropping, thoughts about death, uncanny interests in barbie , your burnt waffles and messed up room and messed up clothes, you were borderline line outcast. you just hadn't been sent to the weird house yet.
'it's only a matter of time though'. you thought shutting your eyes. the late nights and early mornings catching up to you.
it only seemed like a few minutes before you felt the opposite side of your bed sink and a warm hand on your icy shoulder. shrieking, you leaped into an upright position, very nearly hitting your head on your heart shaped headboard.
"jesus! what the hell.." you came to an abrupt stop as you looked over to your side meeting a very dear set of eyes. "look, i'm sorry for barging in so randomly, i know you were sleeping and you're a very busy woman and-" the words mushed together in your head as you focused on her pouty lips. you would let her talk for hours on end if it meant seeing those lips move.
"it's okay." you stated, the corners of your lips turning up. "really? i mean i could leave honestly! it's no biggie..i mean if you want me stay i could?" the icy blonde rambled meeting your gaze softly. "i promise your fine." you assured her shuffling a bit, suddenly feeling very naked.
"so why are you here?" you questioned, sinking back into the comfort of your duvet. dropping your gaze, she fiddled with her velvet night gown, undoing the strings and redoing them. "..well i don't know, you looked more down than usual and you at least make it to the nail painting sessions in my room, but today you missed the whole night altogether." barbie confessed, searching your y/e/c eyes for reasons.
"i know, but-" "you promised." she stated, cutting your flimsy excuse short. "i'm sorry. i've just- i've had some things on my mind as of recent." you explained, your eyes looking at barbies' room across from yours.
“ what type of thoughts?” you raised your eyebrow at her answering her question silently. “right. too far… sorry.” she blushed, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. an uncomfortable silence filled the room as barbie crossed her legs, moving dangerously close to you.
clearing your throat, you glanced at her figure, letting the image cloud your senses. the curve of her hips to the sharp cut of her jawline, she really was the perfect barbie.
“i have thoughts about death too.” barbie whispered. you didn’t reply so she continued “all the time actually. they’re more frequent than they used to be. i thought maybe someone felt the same way as me so i shared it during the dance party downstairs, but, they just looked at me like i was.. weird.”
your heart rate tripled as you gazed up at her. she looked so.. vulnerable. all this time you had thought you were alone in this paradise. you thought of yourself as the elephant in the room. but there was a chance that the one person you thought was perfect, was just as fucked up as you.
“i’m so sorry, i’m gonna leave now-” “stay.” you muttered connecting your eyes with hers. “what?” the blonde asked, a bewildered look on her face. “i think about death too. maybe we have more in common than we thought.” you explained, running your fingers through your y/h/c haphazardly layered hair.
grinning immediately barbie sat back down, babbling instantly. and you did what anyone would do if they were in that same situation, you stared at her with hearts in your eyes, smiling broadly.
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only mattel knew how you ended up sprawled across your bed with barbie straddling your lap, braiding chunks of your hair. who knew depressive thoughts could bond two dolls like this?
“your eyes are so pretty.” you murmured gazing up into her ocean blues. blushing she retorted : “oh shut up.” , but you could tell from her scarlet cheeks and darting eyes that she appreciated the compliment.
“can i kiss you?” you blurted, not being able to hold yourself back. barbie stared at you, her eyes glistening. preparing yourself for rejection you opened your mouth only to have it shut by pillowy lips.
stars behind your eyelids, in fact a whole constellation. gliding your fingers up the small of her back, you reciprocated the kiss as she cupped your face softly. biting your bottom lip, she explored your mouth slowly. sucking on your tongue, she extracted a well deserved moan out of you.
“fuck y/n” she groaned, grinding on you. moaning desperately, you fervently moved your hands around her body as she pulled away. breathing heavily you both stared at each other lovingly. “the others will hear..” she commented, returning to fiddling with your hair. agreeing, you smirked as she looked at your lips.
“i better go then. i don’t want you tired tomorrow, busy work life and all.” the blonde remarked as she slowly stood up. “mhm” you retorted, as you let your eyes wander all over her body.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well okay?” she stated, looking over at you as she got to the door. “i will.” you grinned, snuggling into your comforter. and at that she giggled as she closed your door, the echo of her voice promising you of better days. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🩰 ꒱ ˎˊ˗
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leiswxrld · 3 months
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𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬
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pairings: russian!abby anderson x fem!reader
synopsis: your russian girlfriend abby complains about her boss everyday to you after work but today she wants to take her stress out on someone and who not better than her own girlfriend.
warnings: smut, praises (sweetheart, my love, angel), strap on usage (r receiving), abby fucking the shit out of you.
a/n: I am not Russian so if they translations are wrong I do apologise tried not to use google translate but some websites like quora or Reddit for accurate translations, also this was recommended by someone idk if this is what they meant but I hope you enjoy ❥.
this isn’t proofread so please ignore errors.
@alicespurplesquid thanks for helping me on the cyrillic letters ❥
credits: @cafekitsune @hitobaby for line dividers ❥.
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You're sat in the living room watching the Netflix series 'You', feet up on the couch, snuggled up in the new blanket abby brought you with a can of dr pepper, gummy worms and popcorn.
The noise of the front door opening catches your attention but your eyes remain on the screen, hearing the keys being thrown on the kitchen counter and heavy footsteps approach behind you.
"I missed you, принцесса" your instantly engulfed in her embrace, smelling her musky cologne oozing from her as you smile taking a second to take a look at her.
"How was work" you ask, abby opening her mouth to receive the gummy worm in your hand as you slip it into her mouth causing her to lick the excess sugar off your finger and you jokingly smack her hand at her silliness.
"Stressful my boss was up my ass about getting the new building ready for next week" abby was a construction worker and often complained to you on how much of a twat her boss was in her words, 'a fucking cunt"
"Baby I told you to complain to hr about it maybe they'd do something" you reply and she scoffs going to remove her jacket throwing it onto the other sofa before making her way to the fridge and grabbing a cold beer.
"and what so that my boss can fucking make my life even harder no thanks" she removes the bottle cap with her teeth going to plop her self next to you. "you smell good" she blurts out, pushing her head into the crack of your neck smelling the sweet birthday cake scent.
"thank you it's a new perfume I got" you reply, continuing to watch the show as abby began to assault you with kisses, "abs I can't concentrate if you keep kissing me like that"
"you just smell so fucking good, дорогая" she groans, shuddering as she continues. "I think I know where to take my stress out on" she says, pulling away from your neck as your eyes widen.
"Abby no can't it wait" you whine, you were turned on but you wanted to finish this episode before you'd do anything remotely sexual with her.
"Baby, пожалуйста" you couldn't say no especially when she begged in russian to you. "Fuck-fine abs you have 10 minutes"
She grins at you, getting ready to pick you up before you give her the hand...making her pause for a sec confused as you grab the remote and pause the show before you tell her to continue.
You yelp as she picks you up straddling you on her lap, she immediately pulls you into a heated kiss, feeling her frustration as her hands roamed your back, sides and ass as you moan. tongues entangled and your arms around her neck, she grinds into you feeling her hard bulge prod against your joggers
Abbys pick you up, walking you towards the bedroom door lips still attached to you as she kicks open the door and throws you onto the bed. "strip for me"
You take no time in removing your clothes, slipping off your joggers and top leaving you in your bra and underwear. "so fucking pretty for me" she hungrily eyes you, lust prominent in her eyes as they move up and down your body, making you feel small under her gaze.
She keeps eye contact with you removing her work trousers and the yellow luminous vest, eyes leaving hers to her black boxers that tucked away her strap. "Lay down for me, Крошка"
You lay down as abby crawls on top of you removing your underwear as she curses under her breath, "fuck" your wet, pussy glistening under the light peaking through the closed blinds.
"Do you want my strap baby" you desperately nod, watching as she pulls down her black boxers revealing her strap which hits you against the fat of your thigh, you whine gripping onto her sports bra pulling her towards you as you plead in her ear to fuck you.
she smirks, hooking her arm under your thigh pushing it till it was against your ear. "yeah tell me how badly you want it"
"fuck-please abs just fuck me" her tongue rolls across her mouth in satisfaction, tapping her strap against your wet clit before slipping into you.
You gasp, hands wrapping around Abbys neck as she puts her face into the crook of your neck. she begins to rock her hips into you, every thrust harder than the last knocking the last bit of air out of your windpipe. she grunts, bitting onto your ear and pushing the cups to your bra down fondling with your exposed tits, twisting your hardened buds making you whimper.
Your mixed moans filled the bedroom, gasps and grunts getting louder as she pounds into you. "I can feel you clenching around my strap, зайка" she groans into you ear, taking a second to look at your flustered face, rambling curses and pretty moans.
"Are you gonna cum that fast for me, малыш" she breathlessly asks, hitting your pussy at an angle whilst holding your leg up. "n-no" you squeak, gripping onto the white sheets below you.
"better fucking not you'll cum when I tell you to" she grunts, taking her time to watch how your eyes roll back unable to respond. she chuckles, pushing the falling hair outta your face to truly see how fucking beautiful you were, legs wrapped around her back as your nails dug into her back.
your hand goes to cover your face as abby slaps it, pinning your arms to your sides, "don't hide your face angel I wanna see how pretty you are when you cum for me" her words make you pulse around her, signalling you were going to cum at the speed she was fucking into you.
"a-abs please I'm going to cum" you warn, her hand reaches up to your face slapping it, "hmmm, you going to cum for me milaya, you can beg me better than that" she coos.
"Пожалуйста" you beg, tears in your eyes which pushes abby over the edge, pounding into you harder before you cum all over her strap, your juices seeping onto the white sheets below before she slows down, coming to a halt.
"fuck I think that was the best sex we've ever had" abby mutters, kissing you on the cheek before pulling out. she leaves you laying on the bed, taking her strap off seeing the visible wet spot on her black boxers as she makes her way into the bathroom.
She brings back a wet cloth, cleaning you up and whispering praises into you ear as you steady your breathing. she throws the wet cloth back into the bathroom before jumping onto the bed beside you.
"Do you want to order takeout don't think you'll be in any state to move and cook now" she offers, a smirk on her face as you finally catch onto what she meant.
You slap her on her arm, sending her a dirty look causing her to laugh, "Fuck off abby, you can order takeout but only because I'm in no mood to cook right now"
she laughs again before cuddling you, "yeah sure let me order something from your favourite food place and then after I can fuck you till you fall asleep....how does that sound, принцесса"
you roll your eyes playfully kissing her once again, "sounds fucking perfect abby"
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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
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OMG HIIIII I HAVE A REQUESTTTTT
I LOVE UR STORIES
So imagine Fem reader just going through her closet throwing out old things along with miguel and she finds an old shoebox of hers opens it and its her retired vibrator and pink dildo that she hasn’t used since she started dating Miguel and she’s looking at him awkwardly since she said that she totally threw them away so miguel gets back at her by taking the toys and making her use them
ANYWHO BYYEE THANKKZZZ
Pretty in Pink
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me when you appear in my inbox, throw a smut prompt in my face and dip: ∑(; °Д°) i genuinely had fun with this request i made him speak more spanish than usual idk why lol but as always, if you don't like it, i'd be more than happy to make another one <3
Miguel x Reader, Smut, Word Count: 2,777
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You stare up into your messy closet; old clothes, old photos and yearbooks and maybe some plastic shopping bags you forgot about were all scattered inside. Hands on your hips, you blink at the cluttered mess while Miguel is behind you and crosses his arms with an unamused look. “You really let it get this bad?” He asks, looking down at you. Miguel had called to say he wanted to see you but you told him it was cleaning day for you and you decided to deep clean. He assured you he still wanted to come over and even help you but when he arrived he wasn’t expecting to see how even the smallest places needed organizing. Life got in the way, you told him. You shrug and let out a deep sigh. “Just help me.” You grunt with a roll of your eyes and go on your tiptoes to reach the top shelf in your closet. There was a big heavy box filled with god-knows-what and you huffed as you slammed it down on your bed. Miguel takes a peek through it while your hands empty out the contents. A two year old angel halloween costume, childhood belongings for sentimental value and a local shopping bag that held your graduation gown. “How do you even still have these?” Miguel scoffs a laugh while he digs through with you, picking up a stack of old movie tickets you used to collect. You snatch the wad of crumbled tickets back with a pout on your face. “They have sentimental value.” Miguel chuckles and teasingly pinches the tip of your nose. “I know but stop being a hoarder. C’mon. Pick what you wanna keep and pick what you don’t. I’ll get a trash bag for the stuff you don’t want.” Miguel then steps out of the room, leaving you alone to set up two piles. You huffed out a big sigh and got to work. Carefully, you picked things one by one to decide if you really needed it.
Some old shirts that didn't fit you were tossed in the don't want pile and the cute headband you thought you lost was placed in the keep pile. Any other things like some old bags or trinkets you grew out of were placed in a different pile on the floor for trash. When the top shelf was fairly cleaned out, Miguel came back with two large black trash bags and began helping you stuff the things away for donation, trash or something along those lines. You then sat on your knees to start on the floor area of the closet, picking out shoes that were too small now and tossing them to Miguel. You reached for a small shoe box in the corner and opened it up to see if any shoes inside were still usable. You didn’t expect to see a matching set of your old baby pink vibrator and hot pink dildo catching dust inside. You gagged on your own spit in surprise, feeling the color drain from your face. You were sure you threw it out. You didn’t need them anymore, not since your first time with Miguel just a little over a year and a half ago. “What’s that?” You hear Miguel peek over you, curious since you stopped handing him things. You slam the shoebox shut. “Nothing!” But he had already seen it. “It’s nothing–haha.” You strained, standing up to open the trash bag Miguel brought to throw it in there but he stops your wrist. With his other hand he takes the box and you screech, trying to take it back. He lifts it open and inside are the familiar toys he’d seen before.
He remembered assuring you that you didn’t need them anymore–not with him around. So he made you promise something to him that day. He made you promise to throw it away after you both had sex; that while you had him, no flimsy toy could ever satisfy you like he could. You kept most of that promise. You really hadn’t picked them up since, you just forgot to actually throw them out. “I thought I told you to trash these.” He glared down at you. You pause reaching for the box, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you try to excuse yourself. “I-I did—I was!” You stutter and feel yourself get smaller and panic when he cocks an eyebrow up. “I haven’t used them!” “At all?” “At all.” You grip around his forearm, hoping he wouldn’t be pissed you broke your promise. He glances back down into the box, the sight of it pissing him off. “Sit.” And so you sat on your bed, looking up at Miguel. Miguel picks up the small baby pink bullet vibrator in his hand. He turns it around to find the button and playfully clicks through the different settings. The buzz of the bullet makes your face burn, slightly angry and embarrassed how he’s just fucking around. “Okay, I get it! I’m sorry–just throw it out.” You groan and reach for it again but he snaps his head to glare down at you and you freeze. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you like it?” He asks, turning to face you, your eyes meeting his stomach before you look up.
“Huh?” You ask. He presses through the settings again as if guessing. “Did you like it slow?” He clicks to the first vibration. “Or maybe fast?” He hums as he clicks to the fifth vibration. He guesses you like it faster. You’re stumped. You weren’t sure where he was going with this. You don’t think he’s angry but he’s quiet–there’s something about him that’s changing the shift in your conversation. You cross your legs together when you hear the small buzz increasing. “Fast,” You mutter. “Start at one or two then to three or four.” You look away from him playing with your old toys, your heart speeding up at the sight of the two things that gave you pleasure these past few years. Miguel tosses the box on the bed. You yelp when Miguel pushes you down onto the bed, his knee already forcing your legs apart. You gape up at him, open mouthed in shock when the look on his face is more sinister, head full of ideas of what he’s planning to do. It makes you gulp nervously. “How ‘bout I try them out? You let me know if they’re just as good as me, yeah?”
“Huh?” You squeak out and before you know it, Miguel crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes flutter close and your hands find purchase in his hair, a dance the two of you knew like the back of your hand. His tongue easily slips through to the inside of your mouth, entangling itself with your own tongue. You moan and roll your eyes back, kissing his back with equal fervor. You buck your hips up to grind yourself on his knee, you can already feel yourself getting wet. He helps alleviate that pressure by rubbing his knee to your aching pussy and you sigh in relief. His left hand holds your waist then moves up your body to cup a tit in his hand that makes you moan his name between kisses. Miguel then slides that hand under your shirt, lifting it up to show your bra. His kisses don't relent up, instead pushing your bra up to reveal your breasts to him and freeing them from confinement. He massages your breast in one hand and ghosts his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden from the soft touch. Miguel moves his hand to tug your pants down and you lift your hips up to help him rip them off. He clicks the button of the vibrator and ever so gently presses it against your clothed cunt, the small wet patch making it easier to feel through the fabric. You jolt from the buzz, gasping and holding onto Miguel’s wrist. He rips your hand off and collects both of them to pin them above your head. Just one hand from him is enough to render you helpless. He then pushes your panties aside to slip the vibrator right on your clit. You choked on a gasp and tried to pry your hands away from him but he wouldn’t lend up. Your hips squirmed around to try and get away from the sudden stimulation. “I bet you missed this feeling, huh? Is it better than my cock?” He hums against your neck. You shake your head, your face burning up with desire. “N-no…” You whined, nothing was as good as Miguel but he tsks under his breath.
“No? But look at you making a mess on it already. I barely even started.” He whispers, leaning up to bite your earlobe and you moan. His voice had gotten deeper, more husky–just how you liked it. He rubs it gently, applying pressure a few times to find the spot that hits your nerves. You moaned his name when he found the exact point and he began circling around your swollen nub. His action made you jump from pleasure, the shock of it hitting your chest and down to your pussy. “Un poco de vibración y ya estás mojadita en mi mano.” He murmurs, clicking the bullet to a faster pace. You writhe and struggle between deciding to close or open your legs. Miguel struggles to keep the small bullet in his hand, the toy being incredibly tiny compared to his large fingers especially when it was wet from your cunt. Growing frustrated, Miguel pulls the vibrator off your clit making you whimper. He lugs your nimble body up and he moves to lay back against the headboard laying you to rest against his chest. You can feel his strained cock behind you but you barely have time to properly register it before he places your familiar hot pink dildo in front of you. “Muestrame cómo lo usaste antes.” He brushes his lips behind your ear. He helps you hold onto the base of it and you weakly look up at him with a lustful and dazed hum. “Miggy…” You whimper.
“Hazlo.” He growls as he places the silicon tip at your weeping entrance. He rubs the girth of it between your folds to lube it up, especially at its tip. He then lets go of your hand to move up to your breast and starts fondling the round flesh in his palm, using his fingers to roll and flick the nub. It sparks pleasure to your stomach and you bite your lip. You take a firm grip around the dildo and slide it inside your folds, your pussy sucking up the toy into its walls slowly. You moan and lean your head on Miguel’s shoulder. He leans down to nibble on your neck, his canines catching your flesh in between them as he suckles gently while playing with your perky tits. Miguel’s left hand holds the baby pink vibrator and he sets it at its lowest setting before placing it over your clit again. You gasp and arch your back off of Miguel’s chest, bucking your hips to meet the vibrator which makes you also shove the dildo further inside your cunt. “Hnngh! Mig–uel!” You mewled, closing your eyes as you submit to ecstasy. Miguel chuckles, kissing your jaw. “Que te pasa? I’m barely doing a thing. That’s all you, mami.” He rubs the toy around your swollen clit while you pump the dildo in and out of you. Your hips thrust in time with your hand with the vibrator slipping and even smearing your juices from around your labia. Miguel turns up the speed of the buzzing and you let out a high-pitched moan. “No–no, please–” You squeal. “Wait–wait…” You pleaded and grabbed his wrist but Miguel didn't budge. “I thought you liked it fast.” He teased.
“‘s..’s too much…” You mutter, slowing down the dildo into soft long strokes, fucking it up into yourself to hit that sweet spot Miguel always hits. Even with a toy, you’re thinking of him. Miguel pulls on your hardened nipple and you cry out, clenching on the dildo. “Too much?” He scoffs. “You’ve taken a lot more, nena. C’mon, make it faster just how you like it, yeah?” He mutters, moving your hand off the silicon to replace it with his. With your hand now free, you reach up and behind you to grab onto Miguel’s locks. Miguel then pumps the dildo deeper inside you causing you to scream and pull on his hair, bucking your hips against the toy. “Miggy, Miggy–!” You whined, looking down at the sight of his hands using the pretty pink set of adult toys filling and playing with your wet pussy. “Oh, fuck…” You groan, thrusting yourself wildly onto the silicon. “More…” He smirks. “There she is.” He groans and clicks the vibrator to a higher setting, the buzz becoming louder as it surrounds your sensitive clit and folds, the dildo pounding into your cunt at a fast yet hard pace. It was like Miguel was fucking you with his cock himself. “Is it better than me, mami? Did you miss stuffing these inside you?” He murmurs against your ear as he continues to thrust it inside you, slipping the vibrator in circles and pressing it against your puffy entrance.
You shake your head while sweat beads down your forehead. “No…” You whined. Miguel doesn’t believe you. “No? Should I stop?” He slowed his hand down and was about to turn off the buzzing bullet when you squealed and grabbed his wrist tightly to stop him. “Don’t stop.” You pleaded, panting since you finally got the chance to regulate your breathing. Miguel tuts in disapproval. “It’s only good when you do it…” You murmured and his smirk grew back on his lips. “Oh yeah?” He kisses your cheek, slowly starting up his pace again, staring at the way your slick glistens against the hot pink color. You relax on his back again, stuttering your hips as they thrust up. “Mhm..” You moan and gasp when he pounds the toy into you, its soft balls slapping against you. In the middle of fucking you with your own toy, Miguel’s hand gets drenched with the overwhelming amount of juices that you leaked out of your wet pussy. He resists the urge to rip the dildo out from you and dive between your legs for a taste. He settles for licking his chapped lips instead and fucks it into you faster. Your body begins sweating profusely, squirming about as you try to reach your high as fast as you could. Miguel presses the vibrator at a faster pace and you screech, your nails digging into his skin. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and your breathing becomes uneven, panting heavy breaths as your mind gets clouded with the goal of cumming.
“Already close, mama? Go ahead.” He urged you further to your release. He watched as he hands made quick work to fuck and please you, bewitched with how perky your nipples got and how your body bounced and grinded on some plastic dick. “Miguel, harder…” You whined, spreading your legs further apart. With a kiss to your neck, he thrusts the dildo into you and clicks the vibrator to its highest setting, shocking your nerves and getting the breath knocked out of you as it makes you see stars. You screech out a high pitched moan, stilling and shaking your legs while your pussy clamps on the toy and drenches it in your cum. Miguel slips it out with a wet shlick and sets the vibrator to a lower setting to ease out your orgasm. With now one hand free, he wraps his arm around you and cups your left breast, giving it a small squeeze before pushing your bra back down over them. He kisses along your neck and jaw, murmuring praises to you. “Así es, hiciste bien…” He whispers as you slowly come out from the haze. You pant softly and twitch when the vibrator buzzes on your now sensitive clit. Miguel turns it off quickly and sets it to the side with the dildo and rubs your inner thighs comfortingly. You hum and lean back against him, catching your breath as your cheeks slowly stop burning as well. “Do you still wanna keep them?” He kisses along your neck, feeling your blood pump through your veins. You gaze over at the box and to the abandoned toys to the side. “Maybe the vibrator. The dildo wasn’t big enough.”
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A/N: how r we feeling ? ┗(・ω・;)┛
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