#velvet 2 piece

[robinsnest2111]

thinking about getting up extra early tomorrow to trudge to the other thrift store I couldn't go to today, before the dreaded weekly task of Getting Groceries for my parents and Spending 3-4 Hours Trapped in a Car with my Mother 👍

[jeandejard3n]

Twin Peaks: Venus de Milo

[addictedbespoken]

Customize Men's 2pc Blue Velvet Pantsuit Shawl Lapel Embroidered Blazer With Trouser Stylish Formals Wedding Groomsmen Best Outfit Pant Coat

ADDICTED BESPOKEN We are in the field of Customized Suit/Country Western suit from last more than 10 years. We do all kinds of custom orders for Men, Women & Kids. These are our completely custom handmade suits. Each suit is crafted for an individual customer based on his tastes and lifestyle. We also offer matching accessories like Lapel Pins, Bow Ties, Narrow Ties, Broad Ties, Cufflinks, Socks, Shoes, Belt and Pocket Squares etc. with a little extra cost, to make out a complete package for you (additional cost will be applied). We are always up to suit your demands and make something special and unique for your custom order! Please contact us if you have any questions about your order. This is made-to-order garment.

[addictedbespoke]

Women 2pc Black Velvet Pant Suit Custom Made Gold Sequin Star Embellished Wide Leg Trouser Wedding Prom Bridesmaid Dinner Party Wear Set

This Women Pant Suit inspired by the stars and an eclectic vintage aesthetic, ADDICTEDbespoke’s luxurious embellished suit has everything you need to look glamorous.

Features:

Regular Fit

Notched lapel

Slight shoulder pads

Velvet Fabric

Twin patch pockets at front

All-over gold stitch and sequin star embroidery

Wrinkle resistant

Care: -Dry Clean Only

[bitterrfruit]

price….. in a.. a.. cowboy hat

girl... you have no idea what you have done to me with this ask. Cowboy Price!?? I had so much fun with this, I might even do a part 2! I'm sorry this took me so long - I really hope you like it!!! ♡

18+ mdni - cw: chasing, spanking - 3.2k words

John Price owns the ranch that neighbours your father's. You've got a habit of climbing the fence between them, snooping around Mr Price's property and leaving traces of your misbehaviour behind. This time, he catches you.

Here’s part 2!

Daddy had warned you about wandering onto Mr Price’s property. The lichen-coated fence that separated his land and your father’s spanned miles; carving through tall dry grass, through woods of oak and pine trees, over a bumbling shallow creek. It was easy enough to climb over, but there was one little gap in the barrier, where the splintering planks had fallen from their fastenings. Tucked under a towering cottonwood tree, hidden by the grass, it was easy to wander through as if it were more of your own land on the other side.

Mr Price was a reticent man. An arguably shadowy figure, who you might occasionally see on horseback up on the hilltops of his ranch, tan cattleman hat bowed as he surveyed his acreage. You had met him, once or twice, as a girl. Then, he was in his early twenties, tall and aloof. Eldest of three sons, all three of whom had enlisted and served, sent to fight a war whose nature you were oblivious to in your innocence. He had been absent for years, and once his father was taken by whatever cancer he chose not to treat, John was the only one of the three to return.

His father you had known, vaguely, only as a man that your father despised with an unwavering passion. Some daft rivalry, dating back long before you were born. Whatever enmity existed between old men had not quite been passed on to the last remaining son, it seemed – where there might have been out-and-out conflict, existed only cold disinterest.

Thus explained your intrigue. You found yourself strangely captivated by him, in a nosy sort of way, once he had finally come home. Suddenly bearded and jaded, no longer the bright-faced young man you had distantly remembered, he had picked up where his father had left off. He lived alone, as far as you were aware, in his inherited six-bedroom farmhouse, atop a five-thousand-acre piece of natural splendour. Don’t bother the man, daddy would tell you, he’s not our friend.

But you had always been at the mercy of your impish curiosity. You couldn’t help it. It was an impulse, a compulsion, to stick your fingers where they didn’t belong. You would habitually explore his acres when you came home from college. You’d peek into his empty old shacks, pet his mooing cattle, pick handfuls of wildflowers from his unkempt fields.

Sometimes you’d sneak into his stables. You’d coo at his horses, stroke their velvet snouts, feed them the flowers you had plucked with a smile. They had grown to like you, his sweet horses, you wished you could know their names. They probably liked you more than him, no doubt, the mysterious little neighbour that would sneak in at dusk and feed them treats.

But your most regular habit – one that had gotten you into trouble before – was your proclivity for picking bunches of glossy red cherries from his rows of fruiting cherry trees. The orchard was under-loved and weedy, but those glimmering little baubles of ruby were just too delightful to let fall to the grass and rot.

He had caught you, once, while your arms were stretched far above you, reaching among the droopy branches and floppy leaves to pick the brightest sun-ripened cherries. You had heard him yelling;

“Hey! I see you in there, missy!”

Lips stained red, slick with sweet juice, you gave him a puckish grin before you ran off like a rabbit and hopped back over the fence.

“There’ll be trouble next time I catch you over here, little lady,” he had roared after you, watching you clamber over the oaken planks, “You hear me?”

It didn’t stop you, of course, whatever threat he threw at you. If anything, it emboldened you. Now you meandered down the rows of cherry trees like they belonged to you, picking the prettiest ones, popping them behind your teeth and meticulously nibbling the flesh from the pit, spitting them into the grass as you moved onto the next.

You left a trail wherever you ventured. Little wet pits and green tooth-pick stalks in piles around the place; in stables, along pathways, among the cows. Sometimes you’d leave juicy red fingerprints on doorframes, on the planks of the fence, on horse snouts – perfectly incriminating.

Today was no different. You wandered in scuffing sandals along an old dirt road, green sprigs of grass almost covering it entirely. Some old route that settlers may have followed state to state, spotted occasionally with two-hundred-year-old milestones, ignored just enough to have been spared from crumbling to dust.

Shaded by a cottonwood, humming to yourself, you created a little tipi with your cherry stalks on the flat top of a mile marker. Balanced them carefully as you licked the fruity flesh from your teeth. And when a gentle breeze blew it over, scattering your creation, you leaned over the stone to pick them from the dry gravel around its base.

One, two, three, four…

At the familiar rumble of a truck trundling over dirt, you straighten your spine, palms resting on the edge of the milestone as you look over your shoulder. A dusty Chevy square-body had already coasted to a stop behind you, red paint faded and matte after a decade or two of proper use and neglect.

There he was, the enigmatic man, hanging his elbow out of the open window. Mr Price squinted through the glare of the afternoon sun, crow’s-feet pinching, eyes barely shaded by the cattleman he wore even inside his truck. Your throat bobbed with a swallow as you caught his eye; the flitter of adrenaline buzzed in your chest, toeing the line between nerves and excitement.

With a disapproving suck of his teeth, he grumbled at you, “What’d I tell you about catching you back here?”

Plucking the short skirt of your cotton dress downward, to cover where it had ridden up, you spun around to face him demurely.

“You said there’d be trouble,” you answered with a simper, shyly scratching the back of one hand with the fingernails of the other.

“Mhm,” he grunted in agreement, tapping the metal door with his palm. He flicked his head in gesture for you to make your way around to the passenger side. “Get in.”

A crease pulled between your brows as you frowned at him. “What for?”

“I’m takin’ you back to your daddy,” he barked, irate and impatient, “I’ve got some words for him, too.”

You absently kicked the rocky dirt with the heel of your sandal, pouting at him. “What words would those be?”

With a snort, he rocked his head to peer out of his windshield, then back to you. “To keep a fuckin’ handle on his daughter.”

“Don’t think there’s anything you could tell him that he hasn’t already tried,” you mumbled, attempting to subtly flick the handful of cherry stalks you had collected to the ground.

He chuckled at that, breathy and hoarse, a hint of frustration in his throat. “I believe that,” he scoffed, “c’mon. In. Don’t make me ask again.”

You chewed on your lip, squinting in challenge as you stood up straight. “Or what?”

Glowering at you for a moment, his nostrils flared in frustration, as he seemed to swallow what must have been an inappropriate retort. Instead, his arm retracted through his window, and following the thud of the handle he swung open the door with his forearm.

With a hop he landed in the dirt, dust rising from under his well-worn leather boots. You hadn’t seen him up close in as long as you could remember, and Christ, how he towered over you. It may well have been the looming shadow of his sizzling anger that made him seem so daunting, so delightfully thrilling. You felt the shiver of gooseflesh tingle down the nape of your neck as you tilted your head to look up at him, sheepishly watching his steady approach.

“You’ll be in more trouble than I will if you lay a hand on me,” you spat, with a faint curl in your lips, almost daring.

He gazed down the bridge of his nose at you, wearing a snide and thin smirk, curled under his dense beard. But as his gaze raked you up and down, his sneer shifted quickly into a pout of disapproval, eyes caught on your chest.

“Care to explain this?” He queried severely, wide hand reaching for you; you leaned back further against the milestone behind you as if it might evade him. With his fingers he pinched the cream linen of your blouse, and for a moment you feared he was peering down the gap - brazenly inspecting your bare breasts underneath.

But, no, he instead curled the fabric between his fingers to show you the bright red stain dribbled down the front of your dress.

Oops. Your gut reaction was to giggle, yet unsure whether to admit guilt or feign ignorance.

As you parted your lips to speak, his judging hand suddenly moved to your face; a hold of your chin with a thumb and hooked finger. Piercing glare glued to your lips, his eyes sunk into a defeated ire, shadowed under the brim of his cattleman.

Your tongue writhed behind your teeth, heart thumping in your throat; as he tilted your head up and to the side. He used his other thumb to wipe your bottom lip, pointedly slowly, from the corner to the centre.

“You’re a little thief,” he gritted, dropping your head and peering at the red smear of juice on the pad of his thumb. “Aren’t you.”

Were you scared of him? It was hard to distinguish your fluttering heartrate between terror and thrill – perhaps a touch of both. Because you didn’t know him. You couldn’t trust him. You had no basis to assume he wouldn’t club you with a closed fist and throw you in the back of his pickup. But you felt the tingle his touch left behind on your lip. You got stuck on his pinched blue eyes, the glare of the sun reflecting off your dress illuminating them like they glowed from within.

“No I’m not,” you muttered, readjusting your dress after he left creases in the low neckline.

“And a liar?” He scoffed, as he grabbed one of your wrists – lifting your hand to reveal the sticky burgundy juice under your fingernails, red drips dried in your palm. “You’re covered in evidence, missy.”

Snatching your hand from him, you crossed your arms in petulance. “It’s not stealing if you don’t use it.”

“The fuck it isn’t,” he snapped, hooking his hands onto his hips. “Now get in the goddamn truck.”

“I can walk home,” you grumbled, “you’re not the boss of me.”

Huffing in anger, he leaned forward – looming over you with a domineering lour. “While you’re trespassing on my property – yes I am.”

Glaring up at him from under your brow, you nibble at the inside of your lip as you pouted at him. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t go with you. Kidnap me?”

He tilted his head, shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got some rope in the truck,” he gruffly warned, “you gonna make me use it?”

Did you imagine the glint in his eye? Did you make up the lascivious quip in his tone? Whether or not it was dreamt, it plucked a coy smirk in your lips.

He was daring you, wasn’t he? Goading you to challenge him.

So with a glistening smile you reached for his cattleman hat – plucked it from his head, and swiftly placed it on your own. Too big to sit properly, you perched it on the back of your head so that you could still see out from under the brim.

“Hey!” He barked, lunging to snatch it back from you – but you bolted, kicking off your sandals, ducking under his arm and sprinting across the dirt road. Through the field of grass and dry wildflowers, you bounded like a deer. “Fuck’s sake.”

Holding his hat in place, you peeked over your shoulder in your escape, and he was swiftly in pursuit.

“God dammit, girl, you get back here!” He roared – already closing the distance. You hadn’t expected a man as bulky as him to sprint as fast as he was, charging after you like a grizzly.

You only giggled, leaping over fallen logs and stray planks of wood, weaving between the tall white oaks that littered his prairies.

“If you get so much as a dent in that hat I’ll fuckin’–”

“You’ll what?” You squealed through a grin, holding the skirt of your short dress in a fist against your hips, to allow your legs to sprint in full stride.

You heard him grunt, close to a growl, as he encroached on you. “You’ll be in big fuckin’ trouble!”

Breathless, panting, you failed to think of any witty response as you dashed towards one of the many stables on his expansive property – this one devoid of horses or livestock, simply a storage building for stacks of haybales and racks of tools. You’d perused it before. He might have found more discarded cherry pits in there.

He was behind you already, as you barrelled through the ajar stable door, stumbling into the centre of the dishevelled space. Illuminated only by the cracks of glowing sunlight that broke through gaps in the plywood boards, you stood amongst dust and scattered hay. You turned and faced the entrance, watching in anticipation as he steamed in after you.

Face burning red in fury and exasperation, he jabbed two angry fingers in your direction. “Give me the hat,” he ordered, throaty and severely – no longer joking.

But stubborn as you were, overly enjoying the needless chase, you were not going to capitulate that easily. You stood poised to dash, and with hunched shoulders, he prepared to hound after you.

“I like it,” you puffed, exhilarated, purposefully impudent. You pinched the brim, pulling it down with a disingenuous hat-tip. “It probably looks better on me.”

“Even if it does,” he chided through teeth, out of breath, “it’s not yours.”

You snickered girlishly, pursing your lips. “Maybe it should be.”

“Give it to me.” He thundered, hand outstretched, your heart flipped in your ribs at the sudden eruption of stern rage.

So you spun on the ball of your bare foot, before flitting hastily towards the rickety ladder that led up to the hayloft. Clambering up it like a spider, the old wood and rusted nails squealed in dispute of being used for likely the first time in decades.

But he was blindingly rapid in his chase, and before you made it even halfway up the ladder, his heaving forearm scooped around your waist, hooking you by the stomach.

“C’mere,” he growled through a clenched jaw, as he peeled you from the ladder; hoisting you like a small animal, holding your back to his chest with a constricting arm, leaving your feet dangling high off the ground.

You writhed and kicked, bucking like a goat, still holding his hat tightly to your head to prevent him from snatching it back from you. “Let go of me!” You squeaked, still giggling.

“No,” he snarled, “I’m taking my fuckin’ hat back, and then I’m taking you back to your daddy so he can knock some goddamn sense into you.”

You whinged, clutching his thick forearm in an effort to loosen his grip; nails digging into his bronzed and hairy skin, corded with veins bulged from the exertion of keeping you contained. His body burned like a furnace, pectorals stiffening underneath you as he flexed them, while he hauled you towards the exit.

“It’s just a hat,” you whined, “you’ve probably got heaps of them.”

Your obstinance was aimless – no particular interest in the hat, and no true understanding of why you fought so desperately to keep it. Maybe you just wanted to see how far you could push him. Wanted to see what would happen.

“It was my father’s,” he griped, anger approaching a boiling point as you continued to squirm around in his grip.

You groaned in dispute, still holding the leather cattleman tightly to your head. “Well he won’t be needing it, will he?”

That was a step over the line.

You knew it immediately, quick to bite your tongue after the words spat from your lips.

And his retaliation was sudden and severe; dragging you closer to the exit, he tossed you unceremoniously, almost tumbling down with you into the pile of block-shaped haybales that sat by the stable door. You landed face-down against the bale, winded, a squeak jumping from your chest with the impact; and his hat toppled from your head, rolling out of reach.

He kneeled beside you, with his forearm weighing against your lower back - you were flustered and confused by his haste. Skirt hitched up by the fall, he suddenly swung his free hand down with an open palm, smacking against the bare skin of your ass with a thunderous whack.

“Ah!” You squealed, a shriek, followed quickly by a breathless whine that slipped from your lungs outside of your control. The explosive clap rang in your ears, echoing within the bowels of the stables, loud and shrill. And the sting was sharp, hot and prickling like a brand, no doubt the raised outline of his hand was quick to form in your shivering skin.

A silence followed, pregnant and heavy, and you dared not move nor breathe too loudly – you inhaled and exhaled with trembling breaths, lips parted and wet, eyes wide as you stared into the packed hay.

He was dead quiet, too. Panting throatily, he kept you in place; grip of you not easing, though he stayed utterly still. You thought he might apologise, might express some remorse, might beg for you not to tell your father what he did. But he was silent. Like he had even surprised himself.

You tilted your head slowly, peering at him doe-eyed over your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, close to a whisper, dripping with pleading humiliation.

“For what?” He growled; his glower potently intimidating, a glimmer of voracity in his shadowy eyes, strained like he was suppressing greater hunger.

With a whine you turned your head back, facing ahead into the shack wall, you spoke quietly and nervously. “For taking your hat.”

Followed another swing of his arm, wide hand colliding with your rear in another deafening crack, forcing a laboured squeak from your chest. But there was something more than pain in your throat, wasn’t there? A whisper of thrill, a yelp of delight in your subsequent gasp.

And he must have heard it, took it as encouragement; as you felt the hand of his arm that pinned you down curl into a fist, balling the fabric of your dress tightly in his palm – lifting up the hem even further, you felt the cool air of the stable bite at your stinging skin as your ass was entirely exposed.

“Yeah?” He rumbled, gritting teeth, huffing like a beast. “What else?”

[callmemickey]

Cumming Home for Christmas

synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?

content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2

word count: 3.7k

notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.

Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.

Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.

It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.

Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.

But I digress.

Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.

Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.

You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.

That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.

Good girl.

You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.

The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.

Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.

You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.

“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.

He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.

It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.

Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.

You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.

“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.

“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.

He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.

His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.

Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.

But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.

“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.

With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.

A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.

“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”

You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”

“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.

A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.

Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.

Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.

Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.

That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.

Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.

“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump. 

Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.

“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.

You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”

“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”

You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.

“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.

“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.

��My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.

He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.

“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.

Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.

He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.

The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.

Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.

You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.

He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.

He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.

He didn’t deserve you.

Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.

You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”

He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.

You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.

“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”

Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.

You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.

You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.

You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.

Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.

Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.

[andyoullhearitagain]

Every Starfleet Uniform Ranked By How Annoying The Sleeve Is To Sew, Part 1

The Star Trek designers appear to be allergic to a normal-ass armscye, so I've broken down which sleeves are the most time-consuming and annoying to put in, starting from the easiest sleeve.

TOS Minidress:

A normal raglan sleeve, which is easier to sew then a set-in sleeve when it comes down to it. Quick and easy.

2. "The Cage":

A regular human armscye, set-in sleeves, a thin shoulder pad. They are made of velvet, which is notoriously slippery under the machine and requires hand basting, but they're a straight one piece sleeve which is going to take less time to place then a shaped two piece sleeve.

3. Original Movies-Era:

Both the movie uniforms have normal tailored two piece sleeves. Nothing weird. A tailored sleeve is going to be hand basted (maybe a few times) and include a shoulder pad and sleeve head, so despite being normal they do take longer than the more relaxed armscyes in our list.

4. AOS:

These guys aren't too bad, but they have a double row of satin trim that echoes the zipper in the TOS uniforms (cute!) that would be a little tricky to work with. They also gain difficulty points because they're stretch which I personally hate working with.

5. Strange New Worlds:

These are interesting because they echo both the raglan sleeve in the TOS uniforms and the piecing that starts in the TNG uniforms. Gains difficulty points for having two points of pattern matching and being a THREE piece sleeve (plus a cuff) with all those corners to navigate. AND it's a stretch fabric, AND I'd bet anything that the printed fabric sticks to the machine. Better break out that Teflon foot!

Part 2

[pinkroseblooms]

obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader pt.2

Summary: in the second part to this modern college au, obsessive loner!Choso goes too far; reader deals with the consequences of his need to keep you close to him and him alone when he feels like you're at risk of gaining the attentions of an even more popular classmate. Yet another self indulgent piece of work, but sue me, I couldn't stop writing this all day. Enjoy!

Warnings: toxic behavior, obsessive/possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional manipulation, smut, mating press, rough sex, hurt/comfort, talks of low self esteem, clingy, needy!Choso, begging, crying, break downs, and borderline yandere!Choso, and other less than healthy relationship dynamics.

wc: 5.3k

The birthday cake was placed on the teacher’s desk: the majority of your speech class had decided that since Satoru Gojo’s birthday was coinciding with the last week of exams before break, it would be fun to have a small party. You volunteered to bake the cake; the professor gave permission to use his classroom that afternoon, with the condition the space was tidied up afterward and things didn’t get too rowdy. It was going to be a nice opportunity to celebrate the coming holiday season and the student who was arguably the school’s golden boy. Even those who didn’t like Gojo’s flippant arrogance and teasing nature admired his work ethic and almost supernatural intelligence, to say nothing of his undeniably pretty face. 

Choso was only there because he knew you were attending and in charge of bringing the requested birthday cake. He didn’t feel one way or the other about Gojo, but he would gladly be by your side, eager to hear the compliments your baking would receive and also to make sure no picky eaters decided to get nit picky and spoil your mood. Truly, Choso had been happy on your behalf to hear you had agreed to help with the party. He certainly wouldn’t think to go out of his way to do something like this for people he didn’t really know outside of a forty five minute, twice a week class. Choso was more than proud to be the boyfriend of a person so thoughtful and generous to a fault; it was one of the reasons he fell so hard in the first place. You never needed a special reason to be kind to someone. And of course, it helped that you were still the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life and the last few months had been nothing short of heaven.

Except, the cake was red velvet. Choso stands by the teacher’s desk, staring at the cake. It was his favorite flavor. He told you that not long ago and you had promised the first time you made it, it would be for him. 

The cake is beautifully, painstakingly decorated, a perfect ratio of cake and fluffy frosting, sprinkled in bits of dark chocolate; the matching icing spells out ‘Happy Birthday, Satoru!’ in delicate, looping letters across the top. You obviously put a lot of care into making this for Gojo. That afternoon you had been the first person to arrive, followed shortly by another student, Suguru Geto; he wasn’t in the same speech class, but he was Gojo’s best friend and knew some of the class already, so inviting him was a given. The two of you had left to find a lighter and candles, hoping the school store in the basement of the building would provide something suitable. You told Choso he didn’t need to come; you noticed he had seemed a bit drained from studying and his recently acquired part time job, so you insisted he just hang back and relax while you and Geto went to obtain the finishing touches for the cake. 

For the past two minutes Choso has stood in place where you left him, eyeing the cake so innocently sitting atop the cleared off desk. He didn’t know it would be red velvet. Gojo had a sweet tooth and would probably love it. 

Surely this is too much for just an acquaintance. The recipe is a lot more difficult than the stuff you’ve made before, Choso saw there were more steps and more factors that could go wrong and ruin the cake’s moist and spongy texture. Skeptically, Choso narrows his eyes at the round, two tiered dessert. Most of the girls in your shared class offered to bake, but you were the one with the most experience and Gojo had eagerly picked you for the task. You must have felt obligated to make the cake perfect.

Choso’s frown deepens; he is your boyfriend. You promised you would make a cake like this just for him. A gesture like this could easily be taken the wrong way too and you’re so sweet and self effacing, he’s sure the idea of Gojo choosing you to personally make his cake didn’t mean anything at all.

It should be for him.

“What…what happened?”

The smile fell from your lips mere seconds after returning from the school store; Geto, insisting on carrying the purchases, had just been relaying a funny anecdote of one of his and Gojo’s misadventures as the two of you walked back into the now empty classroom. On the ground, right next to the base of the professor's sturdy wooden desk is nothing short of a mess. 

“My cake,” your hands come up to cover your gaping mouth. “What happened?!”

Geto approaches the desk with a confused frown; the cake and the plate it had been placed on are both on the floor. It seemed to have fallen top first, the icing and frosting smeared over the tiles and the plate broken into pieces around it. 

“It fell.” Geto states simply, although not without some incredulity. “Was it close to the edge?”

“No, I, well,” you struggle to recall exactly where you had placed the cake before you left the room. “I didn’t think I put it that close to the edge.”

“There’s frosting streaks on the side too’ it must have just toppled over.” Geto points out with a keen eye, kneeling a bit, bags still in hand. “It might have just been a bit uneven, a little heavier to one side?” he stands to his full height and smiles at you sympathetically. “These things happen, just a little bad luck. I’m sorry, it was a beautiful cake.”

“But everyone’s going to be here soon,” you fret as you search through your bag. “Geto, I’m going to go buy another cake, there’s a store nearby, I’m sure they’ll have something. Oh and I’ll find a custodian, oh no, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe this is happening-”

“Let me go.” Geto places a hand over your tensed shoulder. “It makes more sense, I know what kind of cake Satoru prefers the most. There’s plenty of time and a few others promised to bring drinks and snacks.”

“But I said I’d bring the cake. At least let me give you the money for it?” you hold up a few bills with a pleading stare. “I feel horrible, I should have been more careful where I put it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up; you are the one who did the work to make it.” Geto chuckles but accepts the money if only to make you feel a bit more at ease. “Maybe it’s better this way: with how good that cake looked, I’d wager you might have ended up with that glutton badgering you for more sweets.”

You return his smile as well as you can. “Thank you. I’m just being silly.”

“You’re fine.” Geto says firmly, but not unkindly. “You call a janitor, don’t try to clean up this alone; we wouldn’t want you to get a cut from trying to pick up pieces of that plate. I’ll be back before you know it; Satoru would sulk all afternoon if I don’t get him something anyway.”

“You’re a good friend.” you smile at Geto gratefully. “Thank you, I’ll call someone right away.”

You do just that shortly after Geto takes his leave; most of the custodians have already left for the day, except for one woman. She promises to be there as soon as she’s done with a request from one of the professors in the neighboring building; she sounds pleasant enough, but you feel pangs of guilt as you hang up and take a seat closest to the teacher’s desk. 

“Bunny? Are you okay?”

“Choso, you’re back!” you look up and wave at him, trying to sound cheerful; he glances at the ruined cake and back to your pained smile. “Ah, were you looking for me? I guess we just missed each other, the basement elevator was out of order, so we took the stairs. What a mess, huh? Geto thinks one side was a little heavier and it made the cake just flop right over the edge. Some bad luck, right? He left to get a cake and the custodian will be here soon, so make sure not to step on the plate bits.”

“Hey, slow down. I’m not worried about that.” Choso’s brow furrows as he studies your shaky smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal, accident…accidents happen.”

You bite your bottom lip harshly as your eyes begin to sting; before you know it, tears are slowly slipping down your cheeks. You quickly avert your eyes, too embarrassed to see the pitying look cross Choso’s face.

“Oh Choso, I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I put the cake that close to the edge! Ugh, I should have paid more attention, I told everyone I would make this amazing cake and I messed it all up and now Geto has to go all the way to the stupid store to get another one because I wasn’t careful!”

“Did he get mad at you?” Choso asked sharply. “Did he blame you?”

“No, no, Geto didn’t do anything.”  you bow your head and wipe at your wet cheeks. “He was really nice about it, so was the janitor on the phone about the mess, but I still feel bad. Gojo was just telling me he was really looking forward to the cake too. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to get a store bought cake and I promised I’d take care of this for the party. Sorry, I know I’m being a crybaby, I should just suck it up, I’m the one who ruined things, I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”

You raise your head and Choso is standing in front of the table between him and you; his hands are gripping tightly around the strap of his duffel bag. You wipe the last of your tears and look at him, your chest swelling at how upset he is on your account.

“You’re so sweet. Just having you to vent to makes me feel better already; I’m really just being dramatic, I’ve been stressed out and-”

“It’s not your fault.” Choso cuts you off quietly; he still isn’t looking at you. “It’s mine.”

“What? Baby, no, I didn’t expect you to watch the cake; it’s on me for not making sure it wasn’t so close to the edge, you didn’t do anything.”

“I pushed it.”

Choso’s knuckles are white: he’s strangling the strap of his bag between quivering hands. Finally, he looks into your bewildered eyes

“Choso, is this some kind of joke?” 

“I didn’t want him to have it and, and I thought he might get ideas since you worked so hard to bake it. He flirts with all the girls and you did say you were going to make it for me first.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you shake your head and all but leap up from your chair. “You? How could you? And you were going to let me think it was my fault?!”

“No! It was supposed to look like an accident, I didn’t think you’d be so upset,”

“So it was okay for me to be ‘kind of’ upset? Choso, how could you?” you ask him again, voice raising, almost echoing in the empty room. “It’s just a cake!”

“Yeah, it’s just a stupid cake, that’s why I didn’t think you’d get this upset!”

Choso’s mouth clamps shut as your anger gives way to a look of utter hurt. 

“Wow.”

“I shouldn’t have said that-”

“Thanks a lot, Choso. Yeah, that really makes it better. Was that your plan? Swoop in and play the comforting boyfriend while I feel like a big idiot? Or maybe you just don’t consider my hobbies anything special; anyone can make a cake, right?” Fresh tears well up in your eyes as you tug your bag over your shoulder. “Nice to know what you really think.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Choso says reproachfully. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, you’re putting words in my mouth!”

“You know what?” you shake your head and unzip the front section of your bag; clumsily you yank out a sealed box and slam it down on the table. Choso recognizes it as one of the little boxes you use to pack individual desserts. “Here, your stupid cake. Surprise.”

The lid of the container is now sticking to the top of the cake but Choso can still make out the messy letters of his name and the heart shaped sprinkles scattered all over the surface. His eyebrows raise as he sees the small, squashed up cake is in the shape of a heart. You glare down at it before turning on your heel without so much as a backward glance.

“Bunny?” Choso snaps out of his trance and begins to follow you. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you.”

“I can explain, just calm down and let me-”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” you stop abruptly in the doorway and give him a nasty look, but you’re barely able to hold yourself back as Choso fixes you with a heartbroken stare. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down when you’re the one who threw a fucking tantrum. Enjoy the ‘stupid cake’, jerk!”

You slam the door in his face and rush down the hall to the nearest entrance, not particularly caring about where you’re going, just as long as you can get as much distance between you and Choso as possible. When you finally get home, you text Geto an apology for taking off and a nondescript explanation for your absence before turning your phone off. You’re exhausted and skip dinner to just curl up in your bed, burrowing in a blanket as if you could shut out the world. Choso’s t-shirt, the same one you’ve been sleeping in nearly every night, is balled up and thrown somewhere across the room; eventually you fall asleep, eyes rubbed raw and nose stuffed as you drift off, hoping maybe this was all just a bad dream.

When morning arrives and you manage to force yourself into a sitting position, it takes you a minute or two to realize the gentle knocking isn’t a leftover remnant from your deep slumber, but a very real sound coming from your front door. You wrap yourself in a robe and slip on a pair of house slippers, equally confused and irritated as to who could be knocking on your door when the sun is barely over the horizon. Just as the knocking stops, you peek through the peephole; there’s no one there. You rub your eyes and unlock your door with a sigh, expecting a leaflet from some early bird salesman or religious group to be stuck in the hinges. Instead you nearly trip over a huddled up mass taking refuge on your doorstep when you didn’t immediately open your door.

“Choso?! Oh my god, you scared me!” you’re still breathing a bit heavily, heart racing thinking a stranger had collapsed on your porch. “What are you doing here?”

“I,” Choso scrambles to his feet; you finally notice in his hands are two cups of coffee, one of which is your usual order, but the largest size. He holds it out to you. “Good morning. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

After a beat, you take the cup on autopilot, more preoccupied with the man standing at the threshold of your home. The circles under Choso’s eyes are darker than ever, in addition to how red and irritated they are around the edges, his hair is oily and limp. On closer inspection, you see he’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday; now they’re more wrinkled and the slight odor coming off them tells you he hasn’t showered yet. 

“Can I come in?” Choso asks, his voice weak and barely louder than a whisper. “I have to talk to you.”

“Fine.” you frown but move aside and open the door wider. “Here, come with me, I left my phone in my room.”

Choso does as he’s told, but trails after you at a slight distance, at least in comparison to how closely he usually stays to you. He’s shivering; it’s the middle of winter and he isn’t wearing even a jacket. How long had he been knocking on your door? How long had he planned to wait there outside? You banish the thought and busy yourself disconnecting your phone from its charger on your bedside table. Choso stands awkwardly in the middle of your room; he hasn’t taken so much as a sip of his coffee or taken his eyes off you, at least as far as you can see. 

“Did I wake you up?” he asks worriedly. “I’m sorry. I was going to wait but I thought you might have gone somewhere and you weren’t answering your phone, so…” he goes silent seeing his shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner of your room. “I just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.”

You barely heard him, jaw dropping at your phone’s screen as it fully turns on to show you 32 missed calls, 15 unheard voicemails, 18 unopened texts, and 5 emails, all from Choso over the course of the night. You tap your thumb on the latest voicemail.

“Bunny? Bunny, can’t you just talk to me?” A shaky, nearly unrecognizable croaking comes from the speaker: Choso’s strong voice sounds strained, almost inaudible at certain points, as though he had been screaming until his throat was raw. “I know you’re probably sleeping…or maybe you don’t want to talk to me ever again-” A sharp, wrecked sob crackles over the speaker but Choso manages to steady himself again. “But I need to…I need to hear your voice. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so fucking sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me. I love you so much it hurts. I’m going to stop by tomorrow, I need to see you. I know I messed up, I need help. My bunny? I can’t…oh god, I can’t do this. I-I feel like I’m dying, I’m…I love you. I love you, I love you, just please-”

Your heart drops to your churning stomach as Choso’s words morph into broken, unintelligible sobs. Finally after a few seconds, the other end goes quiet and the voicemail ends. A recorded voice tells you there’s still 14 more previously skipped voicemails; Choso has remained standing, stiff as a board and looking miserably at you. You take a seat on the side of your bed, staring bewildered at your phone; you decide to not listen to the other voicemails.

“I’m sorry.” Choso says in an absurdly small voice. “Can we talk?”

You’re holding the coffee in your hands on your lap and taking a deep breath before raising your face. “Choso, why did you do it?”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I don’t think your baking is stupid. I was being stupid.” Choso’s cheeks burn in shame. “I was jealous Gojo was getting the cake first, or I thought he was, and I just…I didn’t want him to have it. It’s always like this.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him slowly, tempering your own indignation. “Do you think he would flirt with me? Or that I would cheat on you?”

“No. I just get so...everyone likes you. So, what if someone better comes along? What if you stop paying attention to me?” Choso shakes his head quickly, gripping his hair like he wants to yank it out. “I have thoughts like that all the time. It's awful. I knew you would be sad, but I really thought it would only be a little and then I could make it better and you would…rely on me more. I don’t want you to get close to anyone else.” he lowers his arm to his side limply. “I know it’s wrong. Are you gonna bre-break up with me?”

You don’t speak just yet; your eyes study his drawn, exhausted face. Choso isn’t trying to make you feel bad for him, you know that much. The truth doesn’t make you feel much better though. 

“I was really mad at you yesterday. I needed space.”

“I know, but-”

“Listen,” you say firmly. “Whatever the reason, that was a really rotten thing you did. It was just plain mean and selfish. Sure, you didn’t really mean to hurt me, but you did. You purposely messed up something I put a lot of work into.”

“I know.” Choso’s expression is desolate. “I like that about you. I love that you do nice things for people even if you don’t have to. Y-you’re so careful and considerate of other people. I was being selfish and it was so, so fucking stupid. You would never do something like that to me…you’re so good to me.”

“Choso, this isn’t just about yesterday.” you soften your tone, mindful of your volume. Choso looks as if one cold word from you could shatter him into a million pieces. “If you were willing to trash something I put a lot of work into for such a petty reason, it’s making me second guess things and now I’m wondering if maybe you’re not the person I thought you were. Is it more important to keep me dependent on you than for me to be happy?” You set your cup down on the nightstand, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “Maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

“Don’t say that.” 

Choso all but drops his coffee onto your dresser, barely glancing at it as he rushes to you; he lowers himself down on his knees, eyes glistening with both unshed tears and sheer adoration as he looks up at your pained face. You let him hold your hands, still folded in your lap, as Choso rests his forehead on your lap. They’re ice cold; how long had he been waiting outside?

“It’ll never happen again. It shouldn’t have happened at all. I know I could have just talked to you, I know you would have listened, but I didn’t even give you a chance, I just did what I wanted. I’m not nearly as kind as you.” Choso admits, words muffled as he buries his face into your thighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I need you. I’ll do whatever you say until you trust me again. Do you hate me?”

“Choso, I never hated you, I was just hurt.” you squeeze his hands gently. “The only reason I got so upset in the first place is because I love you so much. Hell, the cake for the party was more practice than anything so I could make you an even better cake. If you were worried, you should have just told me. You’re not some evil person from feeling jealous, but what you did was wrong. I really need to know that you understand where I’m coming from, I don’t want us to break up or anything. Did you really think I was trying to end things yesterday?”

Choso nods, head still resting on your thighs. “I thought you blocked me on everything. I thou-thought you didn’t ever want to see me again. I should have waited, Eso even said you probably just needed some space, but…I’m so used to being with you, texting you. I was going crazy.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to ghost you. And I’m sorry for calling you a jerk.”

“I am a jerk.”

“No, you acted like a jerk,” you nudge Choso’s shoulder to get him to look up; he does, taking in your face with those pleading puppy dog eyes you can never resist. “I forgive you. I love you baby, so, so much.”

“Bunny,” Choso’s lip wobbles and fat tears roll down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto your hands. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you cry, just thinking about it makes me want to-to-” he sniffs and clenches his teeth against a whine. “I’m just sorry. I love you. I missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were hurting because of me and I wanted to come here right away, but I thought if I did you’d really be fed up and-”

“You didn’t sleep?!” you slowly sit and move so you’re seated further up the bed; Choso follows suit, basically crawling over your pillows and covers to be next to you, tears still streaming down either side of his face. “Choso, lay down baby, you should take a nap. You’ll feel better, believe me. We can talk more later and get something to eat.”

“‘So good to me.” Choso tugs on your arm. “I want to cuddle.” He immediately moves over so you can hold him, laying on your sides as Choso stares balefully up at you through blurry eyes. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Choso, you need sleep.”

“Please?” he mutters, eyes lingering on your pouty mouth. “Need a kiss.”

“Okay, just a little one.”

“Thank you. You’re always so good to me…”

You knew those basset hound eyes would be the death of you: what started out as a tender, chaste kiss swiftly evolved into big hands massaging your breasts, then fingers tugging at the sash of your robe, and finally you being pushed onto your back as Choso holds you down in a mating press. 

“So good!” Choso can’t stop letting out choked moans, so loud, they almost drown out your cries, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, somehow, some way forcing his cock impossibly deep. There’s hints of pain but the pleasure you get from his cock head rubbing against that little spot just behind your clit was overriding all of it. 

“Baby, gotta slow down, you’ll break me at this rate.” you moan, helpless as Choso ducks his head down to lick and suck on your almost painfully sensitive nipples. He had been playing with them obsessively, pinching, rolling, sucking, even leaving dark love bites all over your breast.

“Love you, missed your pussy so much, thought I was gonna, gonna die!”

“Oh god, Choso, please, please baby, it’s too much!” your head lolls side to side; he’s made you cum three times already. Your pussy is a sopping wet mess and it’s all you can do to not pass out as Choso’s thick cock stretches you open over and over again, surely bruising your cervix. “You’re so-ah!” you let out a piercing shriek that only seems to spur him on to go harder. “So deep in my pussy baby, I can’t-”

“Just a little more, I’m so close,” Choso huffs, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes, cheeks burning and hair sticking to his forehead; he’s a mess from his own sweat and your slick covering his pelvis where he just won’t stop pounding into you. “You look so good like this, I could fuck you forever…gonna cum so hard, give it all to you,”

“Cum in me,” you sweep his damp hair off his forehead with a faint, fucked out smile. “I want to feel it dripping out of me…can you be a good boy and cum in my pussy?”

“Yes, yes! Oh fuck, yes!”

Choso kisses you roughly, hips rolling into yours, barely pulling his cock out at all, as though he wanted his cum to go as deep inside you as it could go. It’s hot and spurting into your battered insides; thankfully Choso has enough strength left to hold you up as he humps your plush, limp body like a dog in heat. 

“Mine,” he groans, thrusting once more with a violent shudder. “Only mine.”

You suppose it’s not the best idea to encourage him, but you nod anyway, shaky hand in his hair to pet the tangled strands, chest heaving and light headed as Choso pulls his softening cock out slowly so as not to hurt you. He pants against your neck, curled into your side and using his wide palm to rub gentle circles over your hips and thighs.

“My poor bunny.” Choso mutters fondly as his fingers trail over your twitching thighs. “I’ll do better. You won’t regret this. I’m gonna get a bath ready for you, okay?”

“Th-thank you.”

“Sh, just relax, don’t get up.” Choso moves sluggishly to take the box of tissues from your nightstand; the coffee he brought you has somehow not been knocked off in the frenzy. “You’re so cute like this. I’ll wipe you off a bit first, nice and easy. Does it hurt down there?”

“Not really; feels more numb actually.” you roll your head to stare at him directly, meaning to look at least a little serious but you come off more like a grumpy kitten. “Don’t think just because you made me almost pass out that I forgot everything from the past 24 hours mister. I’m holding you to your word.”

“Yes ma’am.” Choso agrees with a hum as he wipes at the mess between your legs. “Thank you again…I still ate the cake you made for me. It was really good.”

“Oh right.”

“Yuji said you should have thrown it in my face.” Choso adds, a bit sheepish at the memory. “I almost didn’t eat it: I thought it would be the last thing you ever gave me…”

“Choso,” you smile at him sadly. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you?”

“Uh huh.” Choso brings you into his arms, careful not to jostle you too suddenly. “Just scared. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Why are you scared? Do you still think I want to break up?”

Choso shrugs. “What if the more you get to know me, the more you see bad things?”

“What kind of bad things?”

“If…if I could, I’d keep you with me. Sometimes when we’re alone, I don’t want to let you go. Then I start wondering if trying to keep you safe will just make you unhappy with me or that I’ll scare you off and then…” A single tear escapes Choso’s eye and he draws you in closer to his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do. Compared to you, I’m really selfish and short sighted.”

“No one’s perfect. I’m not.”

“You're just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I overthink things and get worked up over upsetting people. I hold myself to unattainable standards.” you list off tiredly. “And I keep doing this thing where I shy away from letting people really…know me. Like if they do, I’ll just let them down. I feel like an imposter half the time when you say all these nice things about me. You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to know me, warts and all. It’s worth getting to be with someone like you, Choso. That’s just how relationships work; you’re always risking getting hurt or disappointed when you let people love you…when you love someone. And I love you.”

“Um…is it bad that I feel happy I’m the only person you talk to like this?” Choso sniffles. “Sorry. I’m being selfish again.”

“Maybe a little, but for the right reasons.” you grin and wipe a thumb under his eye. “For the record, it makes me happy you think of me so highly. You make me feel special.”

“You are special and anyone who thinks otherwise is stupid.”

“Does that include me then?”

Choso looks visibly panicked. “Wa-wait, that’s not what I meant!”

“I know, I know, sorry baby.” you kiss him before he starts into another round of apologies. “That was just a little payback. Ah, Choso!”

“Not funny.” Choso grumbles, bundling you into the blankets as you giggle and let out a faux fearful squeal; the sly quirk of his lips betrays his actual intentions. “After your bath, I’m gonna give you a real reason to scream.”

[robinsnest2111]

my most trusted mail order catalogue + online shop keeps lovingly bombarding me with ads for clothes I'd really like (plus they have a bunch of basics I need to replace/stock up on anyway)

maybe it is time to use my hard earned moolah to buy practical (and some fun) clothes orz

[jeandejard3n]

Twin Peaks: Laura Palmer's Bedroom

[angelacostumery]

let's make some sleeves!

don't worry i'll put it below the cut, no one should be confronted with the horrors of drafting them on their dashboard without giving prior consent.

those first few photos are of the final mockup and the final sleeves. the first mockup was more to gauge length and the final width I wanted the cuff to have, so it looked like this.

I wanted this to have a specific lantern shape with limited gathers because this fabric is thicc so I sewed a 1/2" dart at each of the marked points, taking the bottom edge in by 11" in the process.

I ended up shortening it a lot just above where the darts ended, which left me with this.

I knew it would be easier to have a single seam going horizontally than sewing a dozen darts into each one, so I was prepared for this development. I probably could have drafted something much closer to this from the start but I wouldn't want to seem too competant.

I took out a lot of volume on my next mockup and settled on something very similar to what you see above.

then they were cut out from faille, the seam was covered with 1/2" horsehair braid to give them a bit more body.

now, for the velvet layer, I didn't want a visible seam. It sort of ruins the flow of the fabric's pattern AND the fabric's pattern runs in vertical stripes which don't lend themselves well to the curves of the sleeves.

so instead I fussy cut out pieces and overlapped them until they formed the correct shape without any obvious breaks.

It was only after I got these pinned and partially sewn that I realized I forgot to add the gold overlay beneath them and had to re-do it all.

I kept trying to machine-baste together the edges and the sleeves were like "no."

the faille folded over the seam point after I finished since the overlay was like 1/4" too short in some spots, because I didn't baste all the layers together before cutting them out and sewing them together (like I usually do).

I ended up doing it by hand, all but two of the "short spots" will be hidden in seams and the others were patched with additional appliques.

I sewed the appliques to the fabric below the horizontal seam, but this created issues with the drape when I attempted to carry it further up, so the layers are independent above that seam point, save for the top edge where they are basted/eventually seamed onto the bodice..

these will be finished with matching cuffs and cotton lining.

the bottom edges were gathered from 22" down to 19" prior to the underarm seam being done up, so most of the shaping comes from the piecing, not the gathers.

(the top edge is gathered a similar amount at the armscye.)

When going to baste together the top edges I decided to shorten the lining by about an inch at the center and tapering down to nothing at the underarm. This forces the fashion layer to puff out a little bit more.

Then they were sewn on and probably some other stuff happened that I forgot. Anyway, voila!

[addictedbespoken]

Green Velvet Men 2Pc Suit Single Breasted Peak Lapel Front Flap Pocket Tailor Made Formal Suit Wedding Groomsmen Dinner Prom Party Pantsuit

ADDICTED BESPOKEN We are in the field of Customized Suit/Country Western suit from last more than 10 years. We do all kinds of custom orders for Men, Women & Kids. These are our completely custom handmade suits. Each suit is crafted for an individual customer based on his tastes and lifestyle. We also offer matching accessories like Lapel Pins, Bow Ties, Narrow Ties, Broad Ties, Cufflinks, Socks, Shoes, Belt and Pocket Squares etc. with a little extra cost, to make out a complete package for you (additional cost will be applied). We are always up to suit your demands and make something special and unique for your custom order! Please contact us if you have any questions about your order. This is made-to-order garment.

[addictedbespoke]

Women Black Velvet Tuxedo Skirt Suit Custom Made Two Piece Bead Embellished Shawl Lapel Wedding Dinner Cocktail Attire Prom Party Outfit

The ADDICTEDbespoke

We are in the field of Customized Suit/Country Western Suit from last more than 10 years. We do all kinds of custom orders for Men, Women & Kids. These are our completely custom handmade suits. Each suit is crafted for an individual customer based on his tastes and lifestyle. We also offer matching accessories like Lapel Pins, Bow Ties, Narrow Ties, Broad Ties, Cufflinks, Socks, Shoes, Belt and Pocket Squares, etc. with a little extra cost, to make out a complete package for you (additional cost will be applied). We are always up to suit your demands and make something special and unique for your custom order! Please contact us if you have any questions about your order. This is a made-to-order garment.

[mrskokushibo]

Forgiveness

Kokushibo x fem!reader

Sequel to Beg!

Warnings: Sex, Smut, MDNI, NSFW, 18+

Summary: You were dealt penance for you have sinned. Now, Kokushibo offers you his mercy: aftercare, sleep, food, and a relaxing, hot bath. But is this really all you need? This is part 2 of BEG !

Masterlist

You were tucked away in bed, your body still aching from the events of last night. With eyes slowly opening, still dimmed after a deep sleep, gradually adjusting to the candle-lit room, you could barely make out what was in front of you, but after a few moments, the sight stirred your insides... Because in your clear line of sight was your lover.

Kokushibo was seated on his favourite armchair in the corner of the room next to the large futon you both shared. The chair was a big, European-style, heavily adorned piece, big enough for two, he jokingly called it his throne. And it might just as well have been exactly that, the countless times you were kneeling in front of him, worshipping his manhood.

He was lounging leisurely, wearing only a thin purple yukata that showed off more than it covered, making him look …. delicious to your starved senses. His muscular legs spread, chest partly bared, and his hair down. As always on his days off, he was reading, and he absolutely loved to immerse himself in a captivating story. Six eyes fixated on the text; he kept on sipping a dark red liquid out of a crystal glass. Wine, you presumed. He was a bit of a wine snob.

You loved his chamber, dark walls with tapestries, soft Persian rugs covering the tatami, chandeliers, and bookshelves, rows, and rows of bookshelves. Decorative cushions, soft down-filled quilts, and velvet blankets were all over the large bed.

The quiet sounds of you waking up must have registered with his heightened senses because he lifted his eyes to meet yours. Slowly putting down his book while still holding on to the glass, he leaned back in the armchair. His gaze studying you, lips twitching with the quickest and faintest of smiles. It looked like it was a struggle for him to remain serious. He took a sip of the wine and finally spoke.

‘You slept for a very long time. I assume you must be hungry.’

You nodded slowly in reply. He must have used the telepathic communication to call on a servant as within minutes one of them entered the chamber carrying a tray. With a nod of his head, Kokushibo pointed her in your direction. The servant put the tray on the bedside table while helping you sit down against the large pillows. You were sore… The tray had small fold-out legs that made it into a tray table perfect for eating in bed.  

While you were eating, he concentrated back on his reading and wine. Every now and then you were glancing his way, admiring the noble profile of his face. Oh, you were so horny. Despite the violent punishment you suffered last night, without reaching an orgasm of your own, your insides were almost literally on fire, wetness making you rub your thighs involuntarily. There was not much for you to resort to, but remain in this state until he allowed you near him again.

Once you were done with your meal, you put the tray aside and adjusted yourself down on the pillows. This action caught his attention.

‘I think a bath will do you good, don’t you think?’.

You nodded again, sheepishly. On the way to the bathroom, he walked past you and around the bed, still carrying his wine glass. He was so tall and fit; you were close to drooling. Very soon the sound of water pouring out of a tap was reaching the chamber. It always took ages to fill that tub as it was almost the size of a small pool. The sound of water was soothing and made you drift off into a short nap. Finally, the pouring of water stopped and a moment later you were woken up by Koku standing next to you.

‘Hmmm, you know, I am afraid you will have trouble walking for a day or two’.

His voice deep and soft now, was it compassion you could sense? With that, he buried his arms in the soft mattress under you and lifted you off the bed as if you weighed nothing. You rested your head on his chest and into his thick mane. This was heaven, you could stay like this forever.

Well in the bathroom, he placed you seated on the edge of the tub and gently helped you remove your yukata. You were too aroused and your thoughts too scattered to even register what was happening. Right now, you were trying to take in what he has prepared for you in the bathroom.

The whole place was lit with chandeliers, the smell of precious oils permeating the air and there was a large pillow next to where you were meant to rest your head on the side of the bathtub. Once again, he lifted you up and placed you in the warm, fragrant water, gently placing your head on the pillow. The sensation of the warmth engulfing every crevice of your body, refocused you on the needy feeling between your legs.

‘Make sure to relax now. I put some oils in the water that will help you regenerate faster.’

He was just about to leave when you decided you had enough of waiting. You reached out and grabbed his forearm and looked into the six eyes pleadingly.

‘Can you stay with me?’

He tilted his head slightly and scrunched his lips in a playful grin.

‘Are you sure you can handle, hmmm, sex when you are this battered?’

Your eyes widened at the shameless mention of what he knew was on your mind…

‘Yes, I am sure’ you whispered; your voice almost breaking.

Without taking his eyes off you, he slid out of his barely covering clothes and stepped into the tub. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arm behind your neck until your head rested on his large biceps. With his free hand, he started tracing your neck, up to your jawline, your ears, your eyes now closed in pleasure, then your cheek and the line of your brows. His delicate actions were sending small electric shocks of pleasure.

Your hand drifted towards his groin, his cock hard and large, you started stroking it gently moving on to grabbing hold of it and pumping up and down the entire length. His girth was huge and your small hand could not grab hold of it fully, so you were pumping in a snaking movement, trying to touch every part of his now twitching cock.

The action made him release a quiet sigh and lean over you and kiss your lips gently. He slowly but decisively pried your mouth open with his hungry tongue and the two of you entwined in a wet, passionate kiss, tongues caressing each other, that lasted for what felt like an eternity, his long fingers continuing to touch your face and hair.

Eventually, his hand started moving down your neck and onto one of your breasts. His large hand cupped the soft mound and started kneading it and thus sending even more pleasure impulses down to your sex. Suddenly, he pinched your nipple and persisted with this until you started arching your body as the wave of intense arousal and pleasure was hitting you senseless. It was lucky you were in water, because you were sopping wet. Your juices were literally running out of you now as you were slowly losing all control of yourself. You were moaning like a whore and your hand on his cock was gripping tighter for every wave of pleasure he was gifting you.

‘I want you inside me’ you moaned.

Without a word he lifted you off where you were sitting and placed you in his lap, his cock sliding in you causing you to cling on to him tight. He grabbed you under your ass cheeks and started bouncing you on him. The position was making his cock rub its whole length against your g-spot and you were slowly but surely becoming your arousal, your walls clamping around him and your pussy squirting all over the thick member. His tempo was steady and consistent and after a few minutes of this, you reached an orgasm so intense that your scream could be heard well outside of Kokushibo’s chamber.

When you collapsed onto him, he kept on going until his own release filled you up with his warm semen. The two of you stayed in this passionate embrace for a while, exchanging soft caresses and an occasional kiss. After a while, he pulled his head away from you and looking you straight in the eye and with a mischievous smile, said:

‘I hope you feel better now, my love.’

Divider by @cafekitsune

Tagging: @doumadono @cursetopia2 @crescentmoontsuki @muzansfangs @horror4themasses

[yzashaven]

2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒06

꒰ —♡ C O R R U P T I O N ﹒ K I N K ꒱

EVENT MASTERLIST !

FEATURING ! archon!scara, lyney, dottore, kaeya x fem!reader

WARNINGS ! corruption obvs!!, reader wearing a collar, shibari/bondage, electrostimulation, cunnilingus + fingering, mentions of using aphrodisiac, dottore's clones involved, some name calling, praise + degradation

NOTE ! wow so early!!! (not) i can't tag some people again.... erm... anyway!!! i overused a few words here ngl—also 2 are proofread, 2 aren't. thank u all for your patience i've been so busy with school it's tiring 😭😭

[ chérie - darling, amour - love ]

event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kanaedd @ciarchivez @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @kateybuggi @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @supercoolusernameomg @uchihaeirin @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @nothingfuninthislife @eunchaeluvr @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @zxdksimpo @kikosaidbye @bleubirdinthesky @rottmntrulesall @angelofdarkness2 @kvronushi @adeptuscharm

—ARCHON!SCARAMOUCHE

corrupting you is a piece of cake for scaramouche; it's his favorite thing to do. an adorable, obedient, little shrine maiden as his personal slut? all for himself at his mercy? sign him up. oh and of course, to make sure you take all that he gives with no resistance whatsoever—he'll make sure to tie you up one way or another. in this case, he decided to take it easy, bounding your wrists together at your back while a collar was around your neck.

"there you go~" he coos in a teasing manner, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he guides you in riding him. "feels good, hm?" all that you could do was nod and moan helplessly in response as you let him take full control over your body, "mmh, now that i'm thinking of it, you've never been fucked properly before, right?" he grins darkly as he sees you nod; it's true, he is your first after all. a whimper slips past your lips when he abruptly pulled out before situating you down onto the soft velvet sheets of the mattress, pushing your legs further down until you were practically folded in half, "this is what you call a mating press, doll~" he chuckles before slamming his cock inside you once again, pulling at the leash attached to your collar roughly, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him. "oh, don't look at me like that, darling. i might just have to fuck you harder~" and as per his words, his hips began to sharply buck against yours as he observed each and every one of your moans, from the quiet ones to the loud ones that ripped through your throat and making your voice crack out of pure pleasure. not even a minute later, you squirt around his cock whilst it was still thrusting in and out of you at a quick and rough pace, "so adorable~" a scream was drawn from you as his fingers went down to your clit to unexpectedly send a short, weak zap of electro as a way to stimulate you further. "oh come on, i know you like that~ you're just a shy little slut waiting for the right man to break you apart, huh? well... luckily for you, your god himself will be the one ruining you real good~"

—LYNEY SNEZHEVICH

hear me out... soft dom lyney teaching you the ways of romance through intense intimacy and pushing your limits. :3 stimulating you with endless, overwhelming pleasure!!

"can you do one more for me, chérie~?" lyney's fingers and mouth have been skillfully dealing with you for a while now; digits thrusting inside you as they hit all the perfect spots so delicately, his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, gently licking and nibbling on the sensitive bud. you let out whimpers as he continued just that, "you've already came for me so many times, hehe~ a reward should be granted, yes?" before you could protest and say anything at all, he stands up from where he was kneeling and pulls you by the thighs towards the edge of the bed, "mmh~ your sweet fluids are all over your thighs now..." he frowns, "...let me fix that and fill you up with my own cum, hmm~?" without another warning, he easily slides his cock inside your warmth, letting out a small moan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. "feels so good, amour~" he teases as his eyes were fixated on your reactions—body shaking as your lips were parted, gasping for air, moaning and whimpering softly as he started a gentle pace that slowly increased in intensity. "oh, that fucked out look on your face looks so innocent... yet so dirty at the same time~"

—IL DOTTORE

oh, the doctor, experimenting once again, like always! now... who's the best test subject for a rather "intimate" one? of course, his innocent lover.

"how do you feel, my pet?" he says and pats your head gently like how he would to a dog. his thrusts within your cunt were slow and deep, deliciously stretching you out with each snap of his hips, "i knew it... your tough demeanor earlier was nothing but a thin shield. you really thought you could resist me?" he lets out a small laugh, mocking you, "you're just a weak girl on the inside, waiting for someone to tear her pride and dignity to shreds~" he chuckles darkly and reaches forward to fondle at your breasts delicately, "i can't wait to slowly break you apart~" suddenly, he snaps his hips forward as the pace of his thrusts increases, along with the force he was putting in it, constantly hitting your g-spot perfectly. "hah~ that aphrodisiac must be kicking in by now, no? you already look so fucked out and i can feel you getting wetter by the second." he says in a teasing manner, spreading your legs further apart with the help of his clones to hold you down as some of them were touching your cheek delicately, your neck, and your breasts. dottore's hand that was fondling you going down to grip on your hips to steady his rough pace, "focus on me, darling. focus on who's fucking you~" all of that was enough to send you over the edge as you cum hard, walls contracting around his cock that was still busy abusing your pussy, using it as roughly as he always wanted to. "i'm gonna turn you into the sluttiest whore ever~"

—KAEYA ALBERICH

oh... this sly, flirty, smooth talking cavalry captain. he always thought your pure and innocent nature was so adorable, it was his favorite trait of yours. he thinks he's so lucky to have that same girl bent over his desk, begging for more of his rough loving.

"whore." kaeya spat out, thrusting hard inside your cunt from behind as his hand firmly grips at your ass, spanking it. "look at you... moaning all for me, begging for my cock. you that addicted already, huh?" you nod, "good." he smirks mischievously as you let out a lewd scream the moment the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot delightfully, again and again, driving you insane and making your body jolt with each buck of his hips. "fuck—you're too good~ come on, beg me some more. beg me to fuck you senseless~" with a rough thrust forward, it hits a deep part of you that had you cum undone for the umpteenth time. "oh?" kaeya sighs softly, "how am i gonna make you beg when all that's slipping out of your pretty lips are lewd moans and mumbles? hmm~?" he say in a teasing way, "fine then, just keep moaning for me, 'kay~?" his fingers find their way to your clit, pleasuring you further by rubbing it in a way that matched the pace of his thrusts; his other hand making its way up to wrap his long fingers around the back of your neck, holding you down, cheek pressed flat against the cold wood of the table. "even without saying a word, i know all you want right now is for me to fuck you~ just be a good girl and take it all, and i'll keep giving you more~"

[miragemurder]

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Secret

Part 2 of Spotlight

Pairing: Veneer x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff, Make out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A continuation of the oneshot, Spotlight.

For the people who asked. <3 ★ ★ ★

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed since you last been at the club with your friend. So much had happened in that one day, it felt like you just rode the craziest roller coaster in the world. After the party, you and your friend spent the rest of the night giggling and fawning over the guy you just met. He wasn’t just some guy though, he was the Veneer.

You laid back in your bed, head softly hitting the pillow behind you as you pick up your phone from the side table. Today was a relaxing day as you didn’t have anything planned for today, so why not just lay back and go on your favorite social media. You clicked on an app and doom scrolled for a little bit. Most of the posts you saw were just of people going crazy about the latest stars and their new albums. You sighed and kept scrolling, not really interested in other people’s “fangirling.”

You stopped on a post that really struck your interest. It was a post of Velvet and Veneer. You didn’t even know they had social media let alone allowed to because of their agencies. You continued watching the video as they were announcing their touring schedule and meet ups. That’s when your brain clicked. You had Veneer’s number.

You got up from bed and scurried to your dresser, opening up a drawer and picking up the crumbled piece of paper that had his contact information. You took in a deep breath as you opened up the message app on your phone and dialed in his number. You decided to keep it simple and type in a little “Hey, its [_____]”

You dropped your phone on top of your dresser and paced around your room, anxiety getting the best of you. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, it was one simple text. You felt like you were about to pass out until you heard a buzz. You ran over to your phone and read the message.

“Oh hey! I didn’t think you were actually gonna send a text. Had me worried lol.” He sent a little laugh emoji next to his message.

You sighed deeply, all the worry draining from your body as you sent him a reply.

“Heh yeah, I eventually gained the courage lol”

You slightly cringed at the text as you sent it. You waited a couple of minutes for a response until you heard the vibration coming from your phone. He was trying to call you. You panicked and quickly picked up the phone.

“Hey sorry for the incoming call. It’s so much easier just to talk than having to type out everything. How were you lately?” He asked.

“Oh I’ve been good, just relaxing at home and sometimes going out everyone once in a while.” You sighed and smiled. You were nervous and excited all at once, you just hoped he couldn’t hear any of it.

“I wanted to invite you over to one of our meet and greets at the Rage Dome tomorrow, do you think you’ll be able to make it?” He questioned.

You quickly looked at the calendar you had hanging up on your wall. It’s not like you had anything planned but you liked to check.

“Nope! I should be free tomorrow.” You said, a little bit of your excitement coming out.

“Great, can’t wait to see you there.” He softly laughed at your excitement, making you fluster.

“Ugh, crimp is pestering at the moment. I’ll call you back when I can, bye.” He dragged out the bye and hung up. You sighed and laid back on top of your bed. You really were down bad for this guy.

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The next day rolls around and you slowly get up and stretch. You smiled to yourself, remembering that you get to see him today. You get up to go take a shower and fix your hair. You set the shower to be a nice warm temp and started stripping. You hopped in and quickly cleaned yourself, not wanting to spend forever in the shower. You quickly got out and got dressed, picking out your best formal outfit you can find. Yes, it is a meet and greet but you still wanted to look good for him.

You finished up your final touches when your phone started vibrating again. You picked up your phone and answered the call.

“How is my number one fan doing this fine morning?” He laughed. You laughed with him.

“I’m doing good, just finished getting ready for the day. How about you?” You asked, leaving the bathroom and sitting down on your bed.

“I’m doing alright. Honestly, I am way too tired to be getting ready right now but what can I say. Crimps already all up in my hair about the meet and greet. I don’t know why she��s so worried, the meet and greet doesn’t start until six.” He groaned. You can practically hear him roll his eyes at the end of his sentence.

“Well, I wish you luck.” You said softly.

“Thank you.” He paused for a moment until he continued. “What if you come an hour earlier so we can meet up beforehand? In private.”

You flustered a dark red. There was no way he just asked you to meet up IN PRIVATE.

“Uh yeah that would be great!” Your voice almost trembled because of your nerves. There is no way that this was actually happening.

“Great, I’ll see you at five.” He hung up. You sat at your bed, shocked. You slowly went downstairs and went into your living room, filling in time until it was ready to go.

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You stepped inside the Rage Dome and were almost blinded by all the lights they had going on. You were about to pull out your phone until you saw someone approaching you.

“Hey you made it!” Veneer cheered, spreading out his arms to wrap you into a hug.

“Yeah, I was just about to ask you where to go.” You chuckled and so did he.

“Let’s go on back to my break room. I don’t want anyone seeing us out here. I’m not ready for all the paparazzi.” He shuttered sarcastically.

He walked you back to where all the breakrooms were. The rooms were for the celebrities to take breaks in, just in case they needed to fix their appearance or if the crowd was being too much. Once you walked in you noticed that Velvet wasn’t there.

“Where’s Velvet?” You asked, scanning the room.

“Oh she’s getting ready in another room. They gave us separate rooms which I kind of enjoy.” He smiled and looked at you.

“Can I just say something real quick? Your outfit is gorgeous.” He complimented. You smiled, blushing a little.

“Thank you, I didn’t think you would care that much.” You said with an awkward smile.

“It looks really good on you.” He stared into your eyes. You felt like you were about to explode with how close you too were. He slightly pulled you over to the couch and sat you down, him sitting right next to you.

He gently touched the side of your face with his hand, still staring longingly into your eyes. He slightly looked down at your lips and back up again before asking something.

“Can I..” He spoke hesitantly, leaning closer. You followed his actions and leaned in. He brushed a piece of hair back behind your ear and quickly closed the gap between you two. Your eyes fluttered closed as you two both enjoyed each other’s presence.

You wrapped your arms around him, your hand slowly moving through his hair. He deepened the kiss, his other hand grabbing your hips and moving you closer. He pulled back for a quick second to give you guys some time to breathe. His hair was a mess and his eyes were half-lidded. He was breathing heavily. You took in the sight, making sure to keep it ingrained in your memory.

“That was…” He looked down into your gaze. You smiled slightly and pulled him back in for another kiss. You laid down on the couch, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him on top. You continued making out for what felt like forever until you heard some foot steps from down the hall. You guys hurriedly got up and brushed yourself off, making sure it looked like nothing happened.

You were just about to walk out the door before Veneer put his hand on your shoulder.

“We can…keep this….as our little secret.”

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Aye! I made a part two! I hope you guys enjoyed this. I tried to keep it as Pg-13 as possible since he is a teenager. He’s still a little out of character but eh, what are you gonna do. Anyways, leave requests down in the comments!

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