#velour ribbon
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cymbourine · 1 year ago
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rkgk
metal sonic is real and he took velour to ram ranch
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ravenncouture · 13 days ago
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Juicy Couture Stocking ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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talos-stims · 1 year ago
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pumpkaboo [pokémon] stimboard with glitter and velour for @snarkfinsoup!
🎃|🎃|🎃
🎃|🎃|🎃
🎃|🎃|🎃
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coffinbutch · 1 year ago
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BTW here's some crafts I've made recently
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chic-a-gigot · 7 months ago
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Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 16, vol. 18, 19 avril 1896, Paris. 11. Robe de maison en foulard mauve. Modèle de la Capdeville, 58, boulevard Haussman. 22. Corsage Tannhaüser en lainage violet évêque. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney
(11.) Robe de maison en foulard mauve, de forme droite, froncée devant et dans le dos, avec pli rond rapporté retenu par une ceinture de ruban nouée de côté, i rangs de petite Valenciennes ornent le devant et le haut des manches; la manche ballon, très basse sur l’épaule, se termine par un bracelet de ruban, double col rabattu orné de dentelle.
(11.) House dress in mauve foulard, straight, gathered at the front and back, with round pleat held in place by a ribbon belt tied at the side, rows of small Valenciennes adorn the front and the top of the sleeves; the balloon sleeve, very low on the shoulder, ends with a ribbon bracelet, double turn-down collar decorated with lace.
Matériaux: 10 mètres soie ou 5 mètres lainage, 20 mètres dentelle.
(22.) Corsage Tannhaüser en lainage violet évêque, rentré flans la jupe, le devant avec col revers est croise de côté; il est ouvert du lia ut sur un plastron en pareil surmonté d’un col de velours, garniture de velours assorti. Manche d’une seule pièce avec revers velours.
Matériaux: 3 mètres de tissu, 1m,50 velours.
(22.) Tannhaüser bodice in purple bishop wool, tucked into the skirt, the front with lapel collar is crossed sideways; it is open from the lia ut on a bib in the same surmounted by a velvet collar, trimmed with matching velvet. One-piece sleeve with velvet cuff.
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holybibly · 9 months ago
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𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯
𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU
𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.
𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.
𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.
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You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary,"  before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed. 
Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives.   The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner. 
"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.
You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted. 
It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair. 
"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once. 
The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.
There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.
The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.
One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.
As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.
"Hello, my dear."
You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."
"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.
Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.
"Something like that."
"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.
"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.
Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.
"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?
"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.
"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.
Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.
"Is something bothering you, dear?"
You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?
"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.
"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."
You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.
"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.
Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.
"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"
"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."
There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.
His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?
"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."
"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.
"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."
A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.
"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."
"F-Father…"
"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "
You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"
"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.
Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.
"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."
He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.
"Shall I show you?"
"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.
"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"
You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.
"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.
Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.
"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.
Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.
You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.
"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.
"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.
"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."
Were they?
Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.
You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.
But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.
"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"
He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.
"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.
"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.
"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."
He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.
"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.
"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.
Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.
"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.
Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.
You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.
"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.
"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.
"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."
Were they?
Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.
You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.
But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.
"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"
He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.
"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.
"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.
"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."
He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.
"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.
"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.
He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.
"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."
Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?
He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.
"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.
The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.
"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.
He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.
"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.
"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."
"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.
"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.
You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.
You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.
"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."
You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.
As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.
Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.
"You have to undress completely, darling."
You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.
"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.
You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.
"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.
"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."
The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.
"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.
"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.
"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.
"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."
You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.
"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."
It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.
"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth. 
Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.
"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.
Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.
He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.
"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.
"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"
You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.
"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."
You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.
"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.
"Look at me, my darling."
Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.
Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.
"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.
"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.
"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.
God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.
From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.
He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.
He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.
"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."
You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.
He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.
His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.
"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."
He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.
"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.
"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.
All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".
"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."
Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.
You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.
"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.
You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.
Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.
"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."
You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.
Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.
"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.
"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.
"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."
"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.
"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.
"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.
"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.
"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.
"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.
You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.
The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.
"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.
He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.
"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.
With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.
"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."
He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.
Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.
And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.
"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."
From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.
"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.
"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"
You lowered your eyes in shame.
He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.
"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."
"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."
"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."
Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.
It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.
"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.
"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.
He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.
"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.
"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.
Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.
Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.
"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"
"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.
"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.
Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind.    "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"
"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."
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zahraaziza · 1 year ago
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hey lovely i wanted to request masc ellie x a hyper femme reader like me 💋
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: thank you anon, this is such a cute request! this may be short cause i am on writers block, but still enjoy reading!
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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. explicit sexual content. 𝐦𝐝����𝐢.
—୨♡୧ now playing 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐳𝐨𝐮𝐚𝐢)
as opposites attract, at least they do to ellie…
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εїз masc!ellie making you sit pretty, whilst she kneels to slip on your shoes, planting a tender kiss to your knee followed by a faint pat to the planes of your thighs, inferring to you that you're good to go
εїз masc!ellie leaving small pecks along your poor little finger once a perfectly manicured nail snaps off, gingerly brushing the pout off your soft lips with the pad of her thumb, before uttering a soft spoken promise that "we’ll get it fixed, baby"
εїз masc!ellie impatiently waiting on her lovely baby to climb into the passenger seat of her car, all giddy, flashing a new fresh set of shimmery nails at her, whose face never misses to light up like a billboard, too goddamn cute to be fair
εїз masc!ellie nuzzling the flat of her palm between those supple thighs of her very own passenger princess, fingertips nonchalantly riding up just below the hem of your skirt, faintly drawing shapes along your silky serene skin
εїз masc!ellie toying with the ribbon you so delicately wrapped around your hair, the tiny milky colored pearls glued to your nails or that sparkly pendant of the necklace, she just lovingly clipped to the back of your neck, instantly turning into mush at the sight of your puckered lips and eyebrows knitting together, "shh, it's alright, baby, i'll fix you back up"
εїз masc!ellie having you sit at her feet, all sweet and pliable, resting your cheek against her knee, dreamily gazing up at her with those eyes of yours shining with cherries and wine for no one but her, whilst she tenderly pats the back of your head, "what a sweet little thing you are for me, aren't you?"
εїз masc!ellie studying your features in awe, as you meticulously accentuated them in shades of rosy make-up, letting her train of thought wander off to what a shame it would be to see it all smudged, running down that prettily fucked out face, once she gets to have you all to herself
εїз masc!ellie snapping polaroids of you all dolled up, in her favorite pieces of lingerie, and exposed under her enticed fingertips, hiding your bashfully flushed cheeks, which she'll keep tucked away inside her wallet or phone case
εїз masc!ellie gently slipping the embroidered velour of your light dolly stockings up your legs, littering lukewarm, wet kisses along what the material is bound to engulf, lightly brushing your velvet clad skin with the tip of her nose, savoring your irresistible floral scent
εїз masc!ellie tangling her velvety tongue with yours, tying cherry knots in the cup of your mouth, dragging out each and every kiss, desiring to earn what felt like a lingering taste of your delectable raspberry flavored lip gloss
εїз masc!ellie taking her sweet time to trail kisses above the delicate little bow gracing the waistband of those lace panties, meshing her most beloved softer parts of yours to a present only for her very fine hands to unwrap, before fucking you stupid against the sheets
εїз masc!ellie whispering sweet nothings into the shell of your ear as she tends to your drooling princess parts, doting praises dripping off of her freckled lips like honey, sliding her glistening fingers deeper and there go your candied mewls like music to her ears, "that's right, baby, keep feeling good for me, just like that"
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༺♡︎༻𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @scarstarlet @millersaurora @anchoeritic @ellabsprincess @seraqhites @cowgirlcherrie @abbyskitty @destielcore @elliessknife @dropsofs4turn @milllersfae @cherriesxinthespring @dixonsdolls @digit4lslut @porcelainbambi @angvlita @kissesskittens @fxiryverse @elliesbelle @starologist @kokomos @xioriae @machetegirl109 @abbys-wife @lightpinkprincess444 @hazywazysmind @winfleurs @elliephobic @lias-writings @lonelyfooryouonly @beforeimdeceased @angel4abby @hehatesmati
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︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧���︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶
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bebemoon · 3 months ago
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look for the name CASSANDRA (requested by anonymous) | imitation of christ grecian drape front open-sided gown in a stone gray color (s/s 2oo1), { hair } gel-stiffened curled tresses @ yohji yamamoto s/s 2o24, joanne burke handmade hoop earrings, kindred black "rapture in shadow" perfume oil, macabe gadgets "twin moon" crown in gold plate w/ black velour ribbon ties
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chicinsilk · 29 days ago
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Harper's Bazaar October 1990
Irene Pfeiffer wears a yellow cashmere 3/4 jacket (Besson) with black velvet collar and cuffs, a black silk velvet top (Gandini), and a narrow silk velvet skirt (Gandini) by Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel Haute Couture. Black velvet hat with black satin ribbon, black bag with gold chain, and gold bee brooches also by Chanel. Beauty note: Chanel cream lipstick in versatile ash rose. Hair, Madeleine Cofano for Bruno Dessange; makeup, Rob Van Dorssen.
Irene Pfeiffer porte une veste 3/4 en cachemire jaune (Besson) avec col et poignets en velours noir, un haut en velours de soie noir (Gandini) et une jupe étroite en velours de soie (Gandini) par Karl Lagerfeld pour Chanel Haute Couture. Chapeau en velours noir avec ruban de satin noir, sac noir avec chaîne dorée et broches abeilles dorées également par Chanel. Note beauté : Rouge à lèvres crème en rose cendre polyvalent de Chanel. Coiffure, Madeleine Cofano pour Bruno Dessange ; maquillage, Rob Van Dorssen.
Photo Torkil Gudnason
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cymbourine · 1 year ago
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Thumbnail of my own OC i made for a friend's video haha
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designedandplated · 4 months ago
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Women's Blue and Black Hats, 1922
Les Idées Nouvelles | New Ideas
Toquet de panne noire et chute d'aigrettes noires.
Arlequin de genre en satin noir, et rubans de velours bleu.
Forme de style en larges rubans laques, noirs et bleus.
Black panne velvet Toque and falling black aigrettes.
Women's tricorn hat in black satin, plus blue velvet ribbons.
Wide glossy ribbons, black and blue, in the shape of a robe de style.
A Toque was a stiff hat originally worn on top of the head rather than down and around the forehead, though the style could be worn down the forehead as well. An aigrette is a plume of egret feathers, and can be worn on its own as hair decor or attached to another garment (as seen here).
"Forme de style" is in reference to the robe de style dress, which had the low waist of flapper dresses but had full, wide skirts reminiscent of panniers and court gowns of earlier centuries. What forme de style means here is that the hat is wide and droops slightly, mimicking the silhouette of these dresses.
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fibula-rasa · 2 years ago
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Would never describe myself as "a bright little patriot" but an all-black outfit with a grape-colored bag absolutely sounds like something I would wear
What are you wearing?
Transcription:
Photoplay, December 1941
Be a bright little patriot and take your color cue from your state flower for the gayest-hued season that's ever dazzled America
BY MARIAN H. QUINN
Alabama…goldenrod
A bright gold wool furless coat with a taupe belt
Arizona…saguaro cactus
Be as draught-resistant and as showy in the Lasso boots on page 60* — maybe a pair of red ones
Arkansas…apple blossom
The apple-blossom pink and blue wool striped collars and cuffs on your wool dress
California…golden poppy
The gold buttons you'll wear on anything; maybe they'll be massive carved ones for your suit
Colorado…columbine
A purple crepe lining for your black day suit
Connecticut…mountain laurel
The new plaid combination — purple with mountain-laurel pink, navy blue and white
Delaware…peach blossom
A wool dress the color of peach blossoms under your dark coat.
Florida…orange blossom
A needlepoint purse worked in orange-blossom pattern
Georgia…cherokee rose
A simple white crepe dinner skirt; a sweater of yellow pailettes
Idaho…syringa
White or cream rayon slipper satin waltz dress; wear a black snood and black gloves with it
Illinois…wood violet
Violet silk stockings (honest!) with your violet evening dress
Indiana…zinnia
Be as vivid in a bright orange or red hat worn with black
Iowa…wild rose
Sequins forming a pattern of roses all over your evening bag
Kansas…sunflower
Bright woolen jacket of orange; matching orange gloves
Kentucky…goldenrod
Circular yoke of gold crocheted yarn topping a black wool
Louisiana…magnolia
Magnolia-pink rose on the big pillow muff of black lace you'll carry with your chemise dress
Maine…pine cone
New combination of pine-cone brown with baroque pink
Maryland…black-eyed susan
Smart suit: A black jacket with a yellow skirt
Massachusetts…mayflower
Interpret it broadly; be shipshape in a wine middy-top dress
Michigan…apple blossom
Pale pink crepe blouse; deeper pink jacket; black skirt
Minnesota…moccasin flower
Soft-soled moccasins of gold-trimmed white kid for dancing
Mississippi…magnolia
Pink velvet piping on your black dress
Missouri…hawthorn
A waist-length red velvet cape trimmed with jet for evening
Montana…bitterroot
A whole suit of peachy pink for the tea-dancing hour
Nebraska…goldenrod
The gold service insignia of your beau on the left-hand (nearest the heart) glove
Nevada…sagebrush
Sage-green shoes to go with a sage-green monotone costume
New Hampshire…purple lilac
Clogs of purple satin for your purple dance dress
New Jersey…violet
A purple felt hat with your dark blue wool suit
New Mexico…yucca
A creamy white dog collar of pearls to make you as imposing
New York…rose
Red-as-the-rose red with black; perhaps knitted red gloves
North Carolina…oxeye daisy
A snow-white angora felt cloche with a yellow grosgrain band
North Dakota…wild prairie rose
Belt with a buckle that's made of a cowhide prairie-wagon wheel
Ohio…scarlet carnation
Carnation-red wool jacket piped in black to wear with a black skirt
Oklahoma…mistletoe
The dress on page 63**; wear it and see what happens
Oregon…Oregon grape
A grape-colored suede bag, only contrast to an all-black outfit
Pennsylvania…mountain laurel
Pink brushed-wool hat for your dark suit
Rhode Island…violet
A violet plaid tweed coat
South Carolina…jessamine
Over your black dress wear a tight-waisted tunic of yellow wool
South Dakota…pasqueflower
A purple wool suit and its surefire accessory—a yellow sweater or blouse
Tennessee…iris
The lining of the black peplum on your black wool, a blue as deep as the iris
Texas…bluebonnet
Blue suede gloves, blue velvet bag as an accessory team
Utah…sego lily
The white and orange cockade of finely pleated ribbon on your red velour hat
Vermont…red clover
A clover-red corduroy dress
Virginia…dogwood
A creamy satin waistcoat to wear over a black-velvet skirt
Washington…rhododendron
Deep pink snakeskin gloves to match the belt on a black dress
W. Virginia…great rhododendron
Combine a pale pink with Dublin green in a jacket; wear it over a nut-brown dress
Wisconsin…violet
Dog collar of purple velvet on your beige dress
Wyoming…Indian paintbrush
A harlequin necklace; one side orange-red, one side green
*aforementioned boots for Arizona:
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**aforementioned dress for Oklahoma:
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creativehomicide · 9 months ago
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Origin of the ribbun kids' names
Rosette: Rosettes are those award ribbons shaped like a flower that they give people when they win or to commemorate an achievement. Bowie: Contains 'bow.' Duh.
Taffeta: A plain weave, or taffeta weave, is one of the three fundamental textile weaves. Some ribbons, like grosgrain, are woven with this kind of weave. Tafetta is also a fabric used to make gowns, wedding dresses, and corsets. Sasha: From 'sash.' Sashes are large ribbons worn across the body, one end on the shoulder, and the other at the opposite hip. Tabby: Another name for a plain or tafetta weave is a tabby weave. Chiffon: A light flowy sheer fabric, used for blouses, ribbons, and dresses. Twilly: Twill is also a fundamental textile weave. There's also twill tape, a kind of ribbon used to reinforce seams when sewing. Also used to tie theater curtains together. Also twilly scarves are double sided ribbons. Velvet: Another type of fabric, also a reference to the Velveteen Rabbit. Velour: Another fabric similar to velvet and velveteen.
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raitrolling · 4 months ago
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Ok I’m still thinking of Hades-style keepsakes for my trolls
Katrin: Dulled Knives. A mismatched pair of well-used blades. Adds extra distance for your ranged weapon.
Nancor: Lucky Crow Feathers. A charm made from pitch-black feathers. Provides a brief attack boost every time you successfully dodge an enemy’s attack.
Ashe: Synthetic Blood Vial. Blood made from ink and his moirail’s magic. All attacks have a slight chance of stealing health from enemy.
Velour: Kitsune Brooch. A sparkly 3D-Printed fox with a teal-blue ribbon. Gain 1 invincible hit at the start of every encounter.
Mikiel: Never-Melting Ice. A chunk of crystalline ice. All attacks do extra damage to enemies afflicted with the chill status.
Lusien: Beacon Lens. A pendant made out of the shards of a lighthouse’s beacon. Deals extra damage to armoured enemies.
Viltau: Vintage Pocketwatch. An old watch made with real gold. Slightly boosts rewards for darkness, obols, and gems whenever encounters are completed in a set time.
Glasya: Imitation Rock Candy. Small geodes in a cellophane bag, carved to look like candies. Add and extra 5-15 points to all healing items.
Vallis: Cephalopod lure. A cute lure that resembles a bobtail squid. All fish caught while this keepsake is equipped will net double rewards when given to the Head Chef.
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chic-a-gigot · 6 months ago
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Les Modes : revue mensuelle illustrée des arts décoratifs appliqués à la femme, no. 6, vol. 1, juin 1901, Paris. Robe de promenade. Modèle Réjane. Cliché Reutlinger. Bibliothèque nationale de France
ROBE DE PROMENADE (Modèle Réjane). — Robe de promenade de deux draps, un noir et un bleu. — Jupe princesse. — Boléro indépendant sur chemisette en guipure; grand col en guipure de linon. — Chapeau marquis en paille noire et blanche, formé par deux boucles d’or où passe un ruban noir. En arrière, nœud de velours noir.
PROMENADE DRESS (Réjane model). — Walking dress made of two sheets, one black and one blue. — Princess skirt. — Independent bolero over guipure shirt; large collar in lawn guipure. — Marquis hat in black and white straw, formed by two gold buckles through which a black ribbon passes. At the back, black velvet bow.
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lovehotelreservation · 1 year ago
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being a count is hard. being a freshly inducted count during ishgard’s (positive) upheaval is a nightmare. artoirel is not a man who indulges in the flesh so to speak… but with his mind muddled by stress of work, the Dollhouse he overhears his house’s knights discussing sounds awfully welcoming… there he finds maids with duties and talents so much different than what he is familiar with at the manor 👀 (riding + anal but like no, no master, no touching!! you must lean back and relax 💦💦)
"Why concern yourself with a spill, Artoirel? Is that not that meant for a maid's duty?"
It was a remark once chirped out by an adolescent Emmanellain that somehow lingered within Artoirel's memory, one that was immediately followed by the recollection of him smacking the back of his younger brother's head for his impudence.
Yet as he reclined further back into the fine cushions of his seat, he found himself conflicted with what was quickly becoming an imminent spill.
The wine glass he held with one hand danced between maintaining form and shattering into pieces all while the fingers of his other hand were ever so close to clawing right into the velour material of the arm rest they were set upon.
By contrast to his brothers, Artoirel had the closest alignment to having the most steadfast composure.
A composure that was likely to join the shattered pieces of his wine glass at the going rate, pushed and devastated to absolute ruin as he remained seated in place.
After all, on this evening, he had been left to the attentive whims of one of the Dollhouse's most cherished maids: you.
Your name had come across his name when he first caught word of Ishgard's debaucherous haven. Such an angelic name for someone with such mastery of wicked charm.
He had only known you since dusk and he was absolutely in your thrall.
The smear of rouge lips against his, the hike of lace and ribbon to reveal heavenly flesh, the teasing giggles that rang in his ear, the sweetly devious gaze that looked back his way, the sweet vice that caged every inch of his body in every sense of the word.
His teeth grit together as he fought back a growled curse.
He was your client, your master that must be catered to.
Yet as he was made to sit back under the promise that he would refrain from touching you directly, he could only bask in the salaciously sinful sight of your backside continuing to bounce on his lap, the lacy frills of your uniform brushing against his skin while he watched the full length of his cock sink deep into your ass.
Chivalry and decorum saw to it that he would not go against his word to you.
Yet base instincts and repressed need roared desperately within him to scoop you into his arms and plunge his dick inside of you at his leisure and your own pleasure.
Stuck in his own conflict, he thought to take an ever indulgent sip of his wine.
But it was then that he heard your voice once more as you turned to face him again, your lips stretched wide in a cheeky grin.
"Please drink up, Master Artoirel. I'll be happy to refill your glass as many--"
Your hips swiveled up while you brought your hand back to lay right upon his on the arm rest.
"--times as you'd like~!"
And with the final slam of your ass down onto the long length of his cock, it was then that the stem to his wine glass finally snapped as he threw his head back in pleasure with a delighted hiss, the thick and hot load of his seed flooding deep inside of you.
While rich red wine seeped into the rug below, the need to clean it up immediately was the furthest thought in both his mind of yours, especially as you proceeded to bring your lips to his once again, with him all too eager to reciprocate.
What was one more mess when he was utterly ruined by you?
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