#we even dressed up in fantasy clothing for the occasion

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 300

Adjective: Eviscerated

Noun: Phantasm

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Eviscerated: (of a person or animal) disemboweled; depriving (something) of its essential content; (surgery) to remove the contents of (a body organ)

Phantasm: (literary) a figment of the imagination, or an illusion or apparition; (archaic) an illusory likeness of something

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

some things are worth it

a/n: so, because i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy, especially in this au (literally had multiple dreams about him this past week) i rewatched the longest ride for the yeehaw vibes and this fantasy popped into my head.

summary: “oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke.��

warnings: farmhand!tyler owens x farmer’s daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, bull rider!tyler, takes place before the previous fic in this au, secret relationship, bull riding (except i'm a suropean who has no idea what she's talking about, so apologies for the errors), love confession, secret relationship, kissing, clothed sex, car sex, size kink, manhandling, dry humping, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, thighjob, pussyjob, just the tip, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, why do i keep writing for this dude in the middle of the night?

word count: 4238

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“Hey,” Tyler cast you a glance as you came bouncing towards where he still worked, tinkering with the tractor that had quit halfway down one of the farm’s golden fields. 

“Hello,” you blinked down at him. A rusty toolbox was planted in the wheat by his kneeling form as he fiddled away at the machinery.

“You need help with something?” he kept on twisting a bolt. 

“Oh, no,” a shy giggle bubbled out of you, “my mom just sent me down here to invite you to stay for dinner tonight. She made a pie for dessert and everything, or well, we did, I helped… it’s rhubarb, if that can help sway you.”

“Rhubarb, eh?” he puffed out a short chuckle. 

“Yeah…”

Briefly glancing back over his shoulder at you and the way your flowy dress caught on the wind, he uttered, “I’d love to, Y/n, but–, uhm… I can’t tonight.”

“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”

“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”

Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 

“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”

Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”

Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”

“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 

“See you ride.”

Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”

“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”

A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”

“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 

“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”

You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.

“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 

Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 

“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 

“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”

“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 

A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”

“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”

“It is if it could get you killed.” 

“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 

Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 

“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 

Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 

Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”

His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”

“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.

“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 

As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.

“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 

Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 

As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 

However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 

“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 

“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 

Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 

A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  

Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 

As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.

It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 

Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 

To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 

Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 

“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”

And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.

“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”

His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.

But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.

His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 

“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 

“You knew?”

“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”

“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”

“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 

“Wait, seriously?”

“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”

The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 

“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”

Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 

“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.

“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”

“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 

“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 

“P-please–”

“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.

A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 

As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”

Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”

“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”

When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”

Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 

“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”

“Please fuck me–”

“What was that?”

“F-fuck me–”

“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 

“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 

Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 

He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 

You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 

“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”

But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.

“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 

When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 

So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 

Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 

It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.

By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 

“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 

“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”

“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 

He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 

“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”

“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 

“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 

“How?”

“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”

You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”

Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 

“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.

Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”

As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 

“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 

His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 

A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 

“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”

“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”

A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.

But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[flkwh0re]

Guilty Pleasure

Warnings: Mommy kink, Degrading, Praising, Use of the word "slut”, Strap-on usage (R receiving), Overstimulation (Kinda), Dumbification, After care

Word Count: 1,562

Authors Note: You have to imagine pre-death, endgame Natasha for this because that's who I thought of. (totally not my girlfriend who's totally not the one that made me wanna write this.)

Your sex life with Natasha was very vanilla, sickeningly vanilla. Hours of fantasies of woman had curated in your head over the span of your relationship with her. You knew if you brought it up with her she wouldn't judge you at all for wanting to spice things up, but still something had stopped you time and time again, when it came to talking to her about the matter.

Today you determined to talk with her, you made her favorite meal, set the table oh so beautifully, dressed up, and then it led you to where you sat now. All dolled up at the dining table waiting for your wife to return home from a days work as an Avenger.

As thoughts of the woman filled your mind, they were interrupted by the sound of keys fumbling with the lock. "Sweetheart, I'm home!" Natasha shouted as she stepped through the door, her tone going softer as she noticed your presence at the table. "Well hello, sweet girl. What's all this?" She giggled.

"I made your favorite food Natty." You said cheerfully, as you stood to greet your wife with a kiss. "Did you murder someone?" She asked half jokingly. "No I only wanted to treat you." You lied. "That's very sweet of you dear, thank you." She placed a soft kiss on your lips, before walking off to take her shoes off.

"Let me go change into some comfier clothes, then I'll be right back." She said, earning a small nod of your head from you. You nervously made your way back to the table, sitting down, and making sure everything was perfect in the process.

"I'm back!" Nat walked in, a tight black shirt hugging her body perfectly, along with her grey sweatpants, causing you to lick your lips discreetly.

"Baby, this food is wonderful, but I have to ask... is there some special occasion I'm missing?" Natasha asked with the raise of her brow. "No, I actually just wanted to discuss something with you." Natasha's expression seemed to have a little worry, which you quickly shut that down.

"I've been thinking a lot recently, about you, us. I-" You paused for a moment, trying to find the words as to not seem so desperate even though you very much were. "I've been wanting to spice up our sex life recently. I know that sounds really stupid, because I love what you give me and I don't want to seem like I'm not satisfied with you, I just want to try new things." You rambled on before Natasha stopped you.

"Baby, that's it's not stupid. I've been thinking the same. Though I didn't have plans to make such a big amazing meal to ask." She joked, making you laugh. "Why don't we try tonight? Tell me what you want baby." Blush crept on your cheeks as you thought back to all the things you've thought about.

"Well, I've really wanted to try out that strap we bought, and I don't want to be gentle all the time. I want you to be rougher with me, and... I think I want to call you mommy." A small groan came from Natasha at your confession. "I also want you to use harsher names for me, degrading words."

Without saying a word, Natasha tore you from your seat and brought you to your room. She pushed you back onto the bed, her lips colliding with yours. Your tongue tangled with her, and your hands found place in her hair. "Are you sure you want this? I want you to feel comfortable with me." You nod, "Please Nat, I need this."

She smirked, "Is that what you call me?" Your expression was one of confusion, until you got what she meant. "Mommy.." Natasha smiled, "What a smart girl you are."

She removed herself from the spot on top of you, rummaging around for the strap she'd kept stored for so long. "Take off your clothes while I get this on, sweetheart." The name Nat had used on you many of times, now felt completely different.

Once your clothes were off you waited patiently at the edge of the bed for Natasha to attach the harness to her hips. "There we go, can you lay back for mommy, baby?" You scooted your body back as you laid down for her.

Her soft hands gripped your thighs spreading them apart. "God you're so wet, all this just from telling me about your fantasies. Why don't you tell me more pretty girl?" You felt embarrassed to admit something that you'd found a guilty pleasure in doing, but to be honest the embarrassment made you all the more excited.

"I like thinking about being on top of you, struggling to keep getting myself off on you without your help. Or having you tell me to keep taking you." Natasha tugged her lip between her teeth, concealing the moan she almost let escape, because of your confession.

"My god, who knew my wife was such a slut." She said, watching closely for your reaction to the word. Your face was a mix of shock and enjoyment, the whimper that came from you told her all she needed to know.

"Let mommy fuck this pretty, wet pussy." Her lips connected with yours, as the tip of the toy collided with your pussy. She slowly slipped it in you, as to not hurt you. Though it didn't really matter, you'd not be spared from her upcoming assault.

Small whimpers came from you as she stretched you out. "Mommy, it hurts." Your hands hastily gripped onto her shoulders, "Shh take it like a good girl, can you do that for mommy?" You nod.

Natasha's pace quickly fastened, her hips snapping against yours. You weren't sure how long you'd be able to hold your orgasm due to the pleasure you were feeling. "M-mommy, it feels s'good." Natasha smiled at your messy pronunciation of such simple words. "Keep that pretty little mouth shut, let me do all the work. Don't you think a thought unless it's about me."

After a while of your current acts, Natasha knew you were close. "Don't cum yet, hold it." You whined, "Mm I can't, feels s'good." Suddenly you were flipped to where you sat upon Natasha's lap, her hands resting on your hips.

"If you're gonna act like a needy little slut, you're gonna have to earn to cum like one." Your puzzled, disappointed eyes almost made Nat give in. "Cmon get to work."

Your weak legs tried their best to lift your body, trying your hardest to get your high. Natasha's lips came in contact with your neck, licking and sucking tender spots. leaving small purple blemishes on your skin.

Her tongue grazed your hardened nipples softly, before sucking harshly on the bud. Your nails dug into her shoulders, and your head lolled next to hers. Your lips parted next to her, small whimpers and gasp filled her ears.

"Cmon baby you can do better than this, can't you? Or are you such a dumbed down whore that you need mommy to take control, hm?" Her words honestly made you even more dumb, you couldn't even respond but just moan. "That's not an answer, if you want something you have to use your words baby."

After a bit, you were able to gather the strength to get more than just whimpers out. "Pl-please, mommy. I need you, can't cum without mommy." She smiled, "What a good girl you are! Now relax baby, let mommy take over." Her thrust up into you filled a much needed gap of pleasure, and your struggled finally paid off.

It didn't take much effort to finally get you to cum, and when you did it was like no orgasm before. You felt as if you were floating on clouds, and that you could reach out and grab the stars that blurred your vision.

Before you knew it, you were waking up to Natasha running a hot bath for you. "Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?" She asked as she pushed your ruffled, sweaty hair off your forehead. "'M tired." You said honestly.

"Well let me get you all cleaned up, then we'll get you into bed." She said as she gently scooped you up and carried you to the warm bath, which consisted of Natasha washing your hair for you which you loved, her gently cleaning your sweat slicked body with a soft cloth and your favorite soap.

She helped hold you steady as she got you out of the tub, and got you fresh new pajamas on. "There we go sweetheart, now let's get you into bed."

She laid down, then pulled you into her arms. Wrapping them gently around your tired body, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your head shifted down to play upon her chest, the sound of her heart beat relaxing you even more.

"You did so good for me sweet girl." She whispered softly to you. "Thank you, mommy." She smiled at you still using the titled for her, which she was sure you weren't even aware you had used it, and you weren't.

Not before long, you had dozed off. Natasha gently rubbed your back as she watched, whatever she had playing on the tv. The acts of earlier replaying through her mind.

MASTERLIST

[aft3rhrs]

— hangman ღ

number: unknown. pt 2.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: dead dove, yandere, smoking, manipulation, corruption, allusions to depression and anxiety, allusions to past familial abuse, kidnapping, drugging, hints of fear kink (mind games, mentions & threats of snuff and necrophilia), allusions to cnc, mentions of stalking, angst, obsession, dub con, humiliation, praise, choking, possessiveness, outdoor sex, rough sex, dirty talk, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut), creampie, mindbreak (??? a tiny bit), aftercare, mentions of murder and corpses, revenge themes, softer towards the end

*use of the word “rapist”.

masterlist

It's been three weeks since Jungkook has started seeing you in clubs. Five weeks of silence since the last phone call. It didn't take a lot for you to let your guard down, a tempting invitation for a predator like him. Were you passing time drinking, hoping he would finally come around and see where you've been hiding? Terrified of the moment fantasy bleeds into reality, but unable to resist its pull?

He didn't have to wait long to find out.

He caught when you were walking home, heart throbbing the moment he finally felt your warmth. The thick shadows of the alley concealed your bodies, and if anyone were to walk by, they'd see nothing but a pair of lovers embracing in the dark.

No one would notice the cloth damp from chloroform pressed into your mouth, or the way his voice made your frightened form soften in his arms.

"It's okay," he shushed. "It's just me, baby..."

A monster familiar was better than a beast unknown.

"I'm sorry, I just need you to take a nap. I'll take care of you. I promise."

He pressed his lips into your forehead, stroking your hair as you limped in his hold, less conscious by the minute. A kiss goodnight, marking your departure to the empty dreamland that swallowed you whole.

Jungkook scooped you up, carried you to his car, then laid you down at the back before starting the engine.

The drive was smooth, the roads long and dark, inky outlines of trees thickening as they stretched forward. The little dress you wore barely covered your legs, prompting Jungkook to turn the heating on; even if his jacket already kept you warm.

Two hours later, you began to stir.

Your eyes opened, hazy from sleep and the drug running through your system. Your consciousness fluttered awake slowly, along with all of your senses. You registered the feeling of Jungkook's heat blanketing you, his arm tight around your waist, keeping you tucked into his chest. You registered the weight of his hand cradling your cheek, and the smell of his cologne, mingling with leather.

"Had a good nap?" He murmured, his breath tickling your lips.

You blinked a few times, taking in the dimness of his car, and then the hooded eyes staring right into yours.

As if the reality of the situation just dawned on you, you startled, an incomprehensible protest fleeing your mouth. Your body seemed too weak to fight, however, and your mind wasn't in a much better place.

Jungkook buried his face in your neck when you jumped, brushing his nose along the smooth skin.

"Sorry, baby. I know you're tired, and we haven't seen each other in so long—" he whispered. "I've been going crazy without you."

You shivered promptly, your brain still muddled and heart thumping in your chest. You had no idea what was going on, and you were afraid to find out. Pride out the window, there was no denying that fact.

"But that's why tonight's a special occasion," Jungkook continued, still whispering. He lifted his head, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. "You know I'd do anything for you. Tonight I need you to do something for me."

You swallowed thickly. You wished you had the energy to slap him, kick him, bite him; but you felt too heavy.

"Go to hell," was all you managed, raspy and weak.

Jungkook chuckled. The sound made your blood boil. Fighting back only ever seemed to encourage his depraved nature, and it was humiliating, somehow, if not utterly discouraging.

"Hell is wherever I have to live without you," he mumbled into your cheek, "and trust me when I tell you, baby, you're never getting away from me again."

Your stomach sank, reaching depths you had no idea were possible. You watched him slip away from you to get out of the car, and the cold air that poured in wasn't the only reason your legs started shaking.

Like a gentleman, he reached for your hand and helped you out, most likely aware of how weak your knees felt. He steadied you against the door, letting you take in the dense woods surrounding you, the grim sight of empty branches twisting into the autumn sky.

You tried not to let the worst scenarios flood your head, yet it was a difficult wave to hold off; and impossible to run from.

"Where are we?"

Jungkook reached into his pocket.

"Out of town, little doe."

A glimmer of silver among the dark scenery caught your attention. You found yourself going rigid, staring at the shovel laying on the damp ground.

A click had your head snapping down. The barrel of a gun brushed against your hip, tender, like a lover's touch.

"Wanna get to work?"

The world tilted off its axis, your blood running cold, ice as blue as your veins.

You were going to die.

There was a small part of you that seemed to crack at the thought, prompting tears to burn your eyes. It wanted you to cry, plead him to stop and just take you home, to bed, so you could sleep it all away.

Yet a bigger part of you felt somewhat betrayed. He touched something dark inside of you, fed it until it bloomed, and now that you were so damaged he wanted you six feet under?

Jungkook bit his lip, a meek attempt at holding back a smile.

"Don't look at me like that. Not every girl gets to dig her own grave, you know. I even bought you flowers."

Still and silent as a statue, you didn't answer. The lump in your throat was too thick, the static in your head growing louder.

Jungkook leaned in, his gun languidly caressing your hip and plush lips teasing your ear.

"Here's your noose, baby. Are you ready for it?"

Your noose...

Were you supposed to trust him with it?

You were walking forward before you realized it, fists clenched and steps unsteady. You could have spent hours running through the woods, and you still wouldn't be able to escape him. Whether this was a sick game or your last night breathing, there was no denying that fact, either.

"You know what?" you snapped, grabbing the shovel, "I would rather die than spend another minute here with you."

You still tried to blink your tears away, refusing to give him the satisfaction, the last shreds of your dignity. You shoved the sharp edge of the tool into the earth, your vision blurred.

"I would rather die than ever see you again."

You were too busy throwing away the dirt, then digging in to gather more, to notice the way Jungkook's jaw tensed.

"I would rather be in the ground, than be around a psycho freak like you!"

The louder your voice rose, the more your throat ached, tears spilling over despite all your efforts. You continued to dig, completely disregarding seeing Jungkook walking towards you.

"Wow. I would watch your mouth if I were you, honey," he warned lowly, stopping a few inches behind you.

The shovel struck the earth again, a chill crawling down your spine.

"Ever gotten off to snuff porn?"

You froze, wide eyes staring into the ruined ground before you.

Jungkook ran his finger down your back, making you shiver.

"Well, I haven't. But I might start soon, with my personal little movie star, if you're not gonna be a good fucking girl."

The implication had your mouth instantly shut. You couldn't bear to turn around and look at him, or even run. Rooted to the place you stood in, withering away, like the trees that trapped you.

Jungkook snaked his arms around your waist, the gun still in his hand, flat against your abdomen.

"I don't like it when you lie, baby," he muttered, placing a kiss on your neck.

Your head was spinning strangely, shallow breaths leaving your lungs.

"Bet your pussy's wet. Probably been wet since I grabbed you. Bet it's clenching right now and you can't stand it, so you choose to be a fucking bitch... As always."

He kissed your neck once more, hot and breathy against your skin. Your knees almost buckled.

"You're so fucking dirty. Do you want me to snuff you out? Hmm?"

It was disgusting, the filth he spouted, the way he pressed himself closer to you, hard beneath his jeans. The way your tummy churned was worse, heat radiating on your skin despite the insistent brushes of the frigid wind.

"Want me to fuck you into that grave?"

You couldn't stop the tears, silent and hot, flowing in tandem with the slick sticking to your underwear. You still felt drugged out, your outburst doing nothing but leaving you hollow. Tiredness was beginning to take over, numbness spreading through your bones.

Maybe Jungkook was right. You were no better than him; aggression remaining your only self defense when you were left vulnerable. But now that it has faded, a quiet, devastating acceptance was starting to settle in.

You hated him — because you hated yourself. You wanted to be normal, to heal from the things that broke you. And every attempt ended in failure. Instead of encouraging you to try again, or critizing, Jungkook was the only person who wanted you as you were. In pieces.

He didn't mind getting cut on the shards. In fact, it seemed he'd be ecstatic to bleed for you, offer you everything he had. Toxic and twisted, no end to his devotion.

"Keep digging," he said hoarsely, then took a step back.

Like he was trying to stay in control.

You obeyed, sniffling quietly as you bent down to pick up the shovel.

He told you once that not everyone was made for this world; and you clearly weren't, but that was okay... because you were made for him. That you could keep trying to fit in and keep failing if you wanted — or let him in.

You didn't, and he crept inside anyway; a tender violence.

At this point, you didn't care much if you died or not. At least everything would be over. In the end, you didn't have much to wake up for.

Jungkook lit up a cigarette. He drank in the sight of sweat shining on your skin in the dim light of the moon, the shift in your demeanor as you continued digging.

"Easy," he called, blowing out smoke. "Don't hurt yourself, darling. That's my job. It doesn't need to be that deep."

You ignored him, no longer in the mood to talk. Or to provoke him any further, for that matter. Your arms almost trembled as the hole in the ground grew deeper, whether from strain or nerves, it was hard to tell. The thought of your body laying in the dirt, cold and forgotten, felt both unsettling and peaceful. As though nothing mattered anymore.

Jungkook watched you struggle, fingers stiff around the shovel, and yet you kept going, the scattered pile of dirt behind you increasing. He was pissed off, but finishing his cigarette soothed the fire, while noting how pale you've begun to turn put it out altogether.

He threw the bud away and jumped off the hood of his car to make his way towards you. His hand settled on your waist, pulling you up, while the other took a hold of the shovel.

"That's enough," he murmured, dropping it aside with a small thump. "Good girl."

You let yourself melt into death's arms.

Your head lolled to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck, unconsciously giving Jungkook the access he wanted. He kissed the tender flesh, squeezing your hips, still hard and hot beneath his jeans.

"The end is always a new beginning, baby."

You sighed, mascara wet and heavy on your lashes. Gently, Jungkook turned you around to face him, wiping the dark streaks from your face.

"I love you so much," he breathed into your lips.

His body was solid against yours. Your only source of warmth. Dizzy, you barely had the chance to glance up at him before he kissed you, swallowing your shaky exhale.

You let out a mellow squeal when his hands traveled down your legs, gripping your thighs to lift you with ease. For the first time you found yourself clinging to him, kissing him back with equal hunger instead of denial. You wanted to forget the world around you, the grave you've dug for yourself, much earlier than tonight.

Jungkook took a step, then another, before giving up entirely and lowering you down beside it, disconnecting your lips from his only the moment he hovered above you.

Pupils blown out, inky hair messy, he cupped your cheek, his heart thumping right against yours.

"Are you scared?" He asked softly, his thumb still wiping at your tears.

You stared up at him, trying to hold on to reality, but as always, your grip was slipping, and he was the only lifeline you had left. He stirred up the muddy waters in your heart, agitated the unbridled, starving things within their depths.

"Is this a punishment?" you found yourself uttering, barely a whisper.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

"Mm, not really. Just a little game, to end all the others. And start something new."

You didn't know what to think or feel anymore, your hair splayed out on the ground, so cold beneath you, Jungkook's heat bleeding into your skin from above, and the world spinning.

You smacked his arm when he dipped down to mouth at your neck again; drained, the distorted hands under the water still reaching to pull him under with the remnants of your anger. He laughed, as though he found it adorable, immediately grabbing your face to kiss you again.

He didn't hesitate for a second, unzipping his jeans with one hand, and you could feel your core quiver against your better judgement. It was surprising to find that there was still some clarity left in you; or maybe it was easier to make peace with death than with the fact that you were your own traitor.

"Want me to fuck you in it?" Jungkook breathed, forcing your thighs apart.

You couldn't help the way your gaze fell down to his inked hand, wrapped around his cock. He tapped it against your inner thigh impatiently, precum wetting your skin. You clenched around thin air, spine tingling.

"The grave," he clarified, smirking.

The words finally hit you, and you shook your head, your hands frantically pushing at his chest.

"No!" you cried out, nails almost slashing the skin of his neck.

Jungkook grunted, pushing back, leaning his entire weight on you to put an end on your antics. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dip inside your underwear, pulling it aside abruptly. He didn't comment on how drenched the flimsy material was. The moment you were exposed, he was pushing inside you, incapable of focusing on anything but the warmth of your cunt.

The small hole stretched so nicely to accommodate him, fluttering around his cock. He groaned into your mouth, and your thighs shuddered around him, a restless heat boiling deep in your gut.

"You're so wet," he moaned, pulling back to feel the ring of muscles clench against his flushed tip, trying to suck him back in.

He shivered at the feeling, then proceeded to fuck himself in and out of you like he needed; like you both did. Hard.

"You're a filthy fucking minx, I shouldn't ask you anything unless I'm inside you. Your pussy won't lie to me, hm?"

Despite the whines he coaxed out of your throat, you shook your head, every wet slap of his cock thrusting in and out echoing through the woods. Imprinting on your brain.

"Oh yeah? How about we rewind a little, baby?"

He fucked you faster, angling his hips to find that little spot that made your mouth fall open. He wasn't going to go easy on it, or on you, chasing the high.

"What's gotten you so soaked?" He managed, panting. "Did you like the thought of me snuffing you out?"

Cheeks aflame, a choked out protest; and yet your pussy was getting tighter, soaking the thick grith pounding into it.

Jungkook let out a sound akin to a whimper, eyebrows scrunching.

"Fuck, I know you did," he leaned his forehead on yours, feeling his cock throb. "I know how much you want my cum, screaming or dead or asleep. And if I could live without you, baby, I'd do it for you, keep you so full of me."

A revolting insinuation; but you couldn't tell the difference between nausea and an approaching orgasm making your stomach twist.

Jungkook's lips inched towards yours, a deep groan rumbling out.

"That's it. Let it go. Let it all go, angel."

This was the way he wanted you to fall apart; on his big cock, tasting the kind of euphoria nothing and no one but him could offer. He felt his balls tighten, heavy as they slammed against you, almost ready to spill everything he had.

"Mhmm—" a sigh, a pause, hips grinding as his hand clutched your neck, feeling your pulse jump. "Yeah."

A drop of sweat slipped down his temple. Beautiful, with a mouth that dripped depravity, he might as well have had two horns growing out of his head, a forked tongue hidden under the illusion of humanity.

He resumed his ruthless pace, unwilling to let you look away, dissociate from him. In fact, the way you squirmed under him, succumbing to the rush, pliant and loud as you cried, had him choking you harder, crushing the rest of your pride.

"Close?" He bit down on your lower lip, pulling on it. "What do you think your friends would say if they saw you like this?" He husked, his hand crawling up your chest. "Getting fucked out in the woods... by your stalker. Do you think they would be surprised?"

He fondled you over the soft material of the dress, focused on nothing but pumping you full of him. You felt like heaven, and your tight little cunt responded to his words, even if you didn't want to, fluttering and releasing more slick.

"They shouldn't be," he swallowed harshly, watching your eyes fall closed. "They don't know you at all. Don't know how much you like this cock forcing you open."

For the first time that night, it was clear that your thighs weren't trembling from fear. That greedy pussy wasn't letting him go, and Jungkook was tipping towards the edge, no filter on his thoughts anymore.

"But I know," his head fell into your neck, a hot mumble striking your skin. "You're such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, and such a dirty fucking whore, just for me— aaahhh, fuck."

There it was; his favorite way of getting to you. Kissing, biting and licking at your monsters until they'd submit, recognizing him as one of their own. His cock liked it too, the way you fell to pieces under him, back arched and hands digging into his shoulders.

"I feel you, baby," he groaned, "knew you'd cream my cock. That's all you can think about, isn't it?"

You whimpered, delirious, though it still sounded like a 'no', a cute, little lie to ward off your guilt. For some reason, it turned Jungkook on more. He lifted his head and sucked at your lower lip, rutted into you harder.

"Go on, baby," he breathed, "cream it. No need to be shy, you're already mine."

A trail of sloppy, possessive kisses marked your neck, electricity trickling through your spine.

"My prettiest baby, my only girl," Jungkook babbled drunkenly. "Go on, do it for me. Yeah..."

Eyes dark, locking on yours, his voice lowering to a shaky whisper.

"Come on your rapist's cock."

You unraveled like his word was holy, clamping down on him and ripping a hoarse moan out of his throat. He fucked you through it anyway, too close to the edge to stop his own fall; his cock throbbed, long spurts of hot cum filling your ruined hole, so deep and so good his eyes rolled back.

He swore filthily, knees like cotton and his hand digging into your throat, staking his claim, the rush too sweet not to let it linger. It flowed through his entire body, pulsing and warm, like the sun. It flowed through yours too, imploding, and wiping out the rest of existence. As far as you were aware, Jungkook was all that was left.

You didn't feel anything else; not the passage of time, nor the cold air grazing your arms. Only his lips, leaving kiss after kiss on your face, muttering praises you could barely make out with your mind numbed out.

You weren't sure how long you've spent laying there, his cum leaking out of you, bones like jelly and skin sticky. At last floating in the dark, like fog, and still being kissed all over, your flesh existing only where his lips touched.

By the time he pulled you up, you didn't have the capacity to wonder what was going to happen next.

So why were you crying again?

You even didn't notice until Jungkook sat you on the hood of his car, cupping your cheeks.

"No more, baby," he pleaded. "Relax. I've got you."

You were so tired.

You wished you could lie down and sleep, but Jungkook reached for the hem of your dress, inching it up.

"I'm gonna need this."

Your heart flipped. Still, you were too out of it to protest or ask why.

Goosebumps flooded your skin as he took the clothing off you, gently, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

As if shutting down, you stayed there; once again, unmoving. You listened to the trunk pop open, stuck on the odd rustling sound that followed. A loud thud came, making you flinch.

Then, more rustling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook dragging something towards you, a faint, unpleasant smell of blood reaching your nose.

Your stomach turned.

You stared at the bag, and he stared at you, unceremoniously dropping your dress on the wrapped up corpse.

Perhaps it was the way you gasped that had him reaching out, the same hands that took a life massaging your bare sides to comfort you.

"Close your eyes for the next part, baby," he whispered.

His nose brushed against yours. You felt your lower lip tremble, but still did as he asked.

"Good girl," he praised.

Frowning, you attempted to make some sense of what was happening, attempted to keep your heart from jumping to your throat.

It did anyway.

Sensing your distress, Jungkook kissed your lips.

"Remember a girl called Jia?"

No more pounding, or skipping beats. Everything seemed to come to a halt, including your heart.

Jungkook squeezed your waist. His voice remained quiet, a ghost in the wind.

"Not a pretty sight."

Inhale.

Exhale.

He took a hold of your trembling hand, leaving a loving kiss on each knuckle.

"Tonight, you die, baby," he murmured, the next kiss landing on your temple. "And nothing bad will ever happen to you again. Just you and me, yeah?"

The tears that fell were different now. Something broke. But it felt like release.

The soothing warmth of his hands vanished, and you kept your eyes closed. Even as the bag rustled and the stench got worse, even as another thud echoed through the empty woods.

How did he know?

Somehow, it still surprised you. Somehow, you couldn't bear to disobey him as he filled the grave you dug up, burying the biggest nightmare of your past. The so called family that had torn your life and soul apart.

There was no doubt in your mind that if he found her, he found him, too.

You listened to the metal dig into the earth again, dirt gathering on top of her corpse. Clad in your dress, butchered, rendering her unrecognizable. Teeth, face, hands — ruined. Jungkook had thought of everything, it seemed. A perfect crime.

The only traces of DNA left? Yours. Whatever still lingered on that little black dress.

As of tonight...

You were were dead.

Jungkook threw the shovel away, huffing, then made his way back towards the car. He heaved a sigh and pulled you in, held you close, sheltering you from the rest of the world.

Your fingers wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve, squeezing.

He acknowledged the gesture by kissing the top of your head, eyes closed. There was no rush, really, besides the longing to finally take you home and get into bed to sleep.

No more games. No more pain.

The end was always a new beginning.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @ar14dna @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111 @mother2monsters @whipwhoops @svnbangtansworld @ane102 @stellalovesstarss @jksteponme @httpjeonlicious

[makeyoumine69]

My Lovely Detective VII

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Detective!OC

CO-WRITER: @iron-flavored-lipgloss

CONTAINS: NSFW, master/pet dynamics, dirty talk, implied BDSM, pet names, brat taming, humiliation and maybe something else :D

WORDS: 2.2k

A/N: Hello everyone! Please forgive us for the long wait, we have been quite busy lately. Enjoy the new chapter!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

In My Twisted Era

Buying clothes for Andrea had become one of the few and all the more unexpected pleasures in Patrick Bateman's life. With Evelyn it had been absolutely horrible (she had her very own taste), and not even Courtney would have agreed to wear such skimpy, if not downright whorish clothes. But Andrea couldn't really refuse, she just had to show whatever sexy little excuse of an outfit Patrick was currently in love with. And for tonight's special occasion, there was no other woman he would rather have on a leash. 

"I told you, this is no ordinary party. This is the dress code, and you will not bring your prudish sense of style into it."

The woman was wearing a very expensive set of lingerie, which he had deliberately made a little too tight to make her tits look even fuller, showing off every curve in a way that would surely make any other man jealous. The heels were also painfully impractical, probably the highest shoes Andrea had ever owned, and against her will it made her cling even tighter to Patrick's arm, needing stability. 

All he had to do was tug on the sturdy little leash attached to her choker and Andrea would stumble right into his arms or fall to her knees—another idea that drove Bateman a little crazy, so he tried not to think about it right now. Patrick himself, of course, was dressed very differently, showing off his finest tuxedo, but pretending that there was nothing humiliating about Andrea being almost naked under her new big fur coat—that coat she was now forced to take off in the checkroom.

"It's very warm inside. Real candlelight," one of the ladies in charge explained emphatically to Andrea and then winked playfully at Patrick.  Andrea, who in her blushing anger only looked delightfully innocent to these professionals, who had never experienced the perversions of an elite motto party like this. "One more thing—we have to check for any weapons."

That was ridiculous, of course—where would Andrea hide a weapon? Under her elegant Colombina mask?  No, this was one of the few rules tonight to ensure everyone's privacy. But everything else was a part of the game, like the female cloakroom attendant groping Andrea. She squeezed her tits a little and pulled her lace thong down, as if to check if she had a gun shoved up her pussy. 

"Hush darling, let it happen," Bateman whispered in her ear, just loud enough for the other woman to buy their supposed relationship and notice the shiver running through Andrea's body as a pleasant side effect.

Annoyed, Andrea tried not to scoff and spat in the attendant's face as her hands resumed their shameless exploration of her body. "One more move and I'll break your fucking fingers," she hissed as the woman bent down to her neck, her lips almost touching the detective's throat. "Understand?"

Unaware of Andrea's words, Patrick leered as he enjoyed the scene unfolding before him. Oh, how often had he imagined himself having fun with Andrea and another woman. Tonight all his fantasies could come true, he would do anything for it.

The attendant suddenly backed away, almost bumping into Bateman, but he managed to step away at the last moment. Scowling, Andrea adjusted her lingerie, looking aggressive and very angry. 'If only I could rip these clothes off,' the woman thought, looking around to assess the situation. There were a lot of people, a lot of rich, depraved people who were definitely sick and immoral. Patrick's cheeky chuckle caught Andrea's attention again—the woman who had shamelessly groped her a moment ago was now busy inspecting Bateman, and judging by his reaction, the man was enjoying the process.

"Have a nice evening, Mister." The woman murmured before pecking Patrick's cheek and slipping something into his jacket pocket. 

Frowning in disgust, Andrea wanted to use this as a chance to escape, but as she turned to see the exit, another couple walked in. A black haired man was holding a blonde girl on a leash who was crawling on all fours like a dog. This was already too much for Detective Moore, more than too much.

When Patrick had finished with the bitchy cloakroom lady, he grabbed Andrea's wrist and forced her to follow him further into the house. "I... I don't feel well," the brown-haired woman said as they moved through the noisy crowd of people, most of them already naked but still wearing their masks. "Can... Can I use the bathroom?"

'This party is the chance I've been waiting for,' the idea came to her faster than she could move, as she slipped through the groups of rich yuppies and their pocket whores. 'I should escape. Otherwise I won't make it tomorrow.'

"We've barely arrived," Patrick muttered, slightly annoyed, before he seemed to think of something—his mood changed again. "But I guess my poor girl was so nervous, she couldn't help it." He was playing that role again, the caring and generous lover—only the arrogance of his smile betrayed his true nature. "We'll look for a bathroom on the way."

One hand firmly on the leash, the other boldly wrapped around her waist, Andrea couldn't help but follow him deeper into what seemed to be a temple of hedonistic desire. The high, dark walls and even the ceiling were adorned with various framed nude paintings that would have been tasteful under any other circumstances, but here, in this place, they only added to the sinister atmosphere—along with those suspicious noises of unknown origin echoing through the hallways, a seemingly endless number of them branching off to the left and right of the main corridor. 

Bizarre shadows dancing on the walls and the beguiling scent of musk and sandalwood followed Patrick and Andrea, as well as dozens of other couples. Some women balanced on their stilettos like Andrea, others crawled on the floor, it was hard not to step on their fingers.

And finally, a glamorous ballroom awaited them, with chandeliers hanging down, the lights dimmed naturally, and sensual jazz sounds played by a live band. There were several champagne towers and a buffet table so large it could have fed the entire homeless population of New York, yet girls in short maid dresses carried trays of drinks and snacks through the flow of muted conversation. 

There seemed to be too much of everything, but "it's just the entrance hall," Patrick assured Andrea, smiling at the couple next to him, exchanging brief nods with the other man and thus showing respect for each other.

"First time here?"

"It is, for her." 

Patrick squeezed Andrea's shoulder, but his gaze remained on the young woman lounging on the floor, caressing her male companion's leg and looking up at him with large, dilated pupils. 

"You like her?" The broad grin that appeared beneath the stranger's mask suggested that he was not annoyed by the attention his girl was receiving—quite the opposite. 

"Well, I can't lie ... she seems very well-behaved."

'And she's very blonde and busty, too. Although Andrea's tits look even better.'

"Yeah, you're a good little kitty, aren't you, Jessica?"

Patrick watched the woman, apparently Jessica, in utter fascination as she rubbed her cheek on this guy's shoes and told him, "Yes, Master."

It was a very strange mixture of affection and obedience—basically the opposite of Andrea. 

"I assume you didn't come for the food. Although..." They cast an odd glance at another group of men lined up around a girl smeared with cream. 

"Not exactly. Andrea's not quite there yet."

As they left this hall of the gluttonous, Jessica simply followed, but when it came to Andrea, Patrick had to pull hard on her leash first. Any protest died in her throat as Andrea had to gasp for air instead.

"A brat, huh? Charming little hot blood..."

"I don't share her with men." Patrick wasn't even sure how those words had come out so quickly and clearly - Evelyn having an affair had never bothered him. 

'And it's not like I care about Andrea ethier!'

But the thought of this stranger (who was about as tall as he was and looked very fit to boot) fucking Andrea made him feel sick. 

"Oh, not me. But my little Jessica likes to play with girls. So maybe..."

 And of course that sounded much more appealing to Patrick.

Andrea swallowed hard, a shiver running down her spine at the thought of being involved with another woman. There was no way Bateman was considering it, but when he approached the bitch named Jessica and leaned down to stroke her cheek, something inside the detective tightened like a spring.

"Now, now," Patrick crooned as Jessica tried to kiss his hand. "You're a playful one, aren't you?"

The owner just chuckled, completely unbothered by the fact that another man was touching his girl, and it made Andrea almost vomit, but instead of making a scene, she decided to play along and get Bateman's attention back. 

Quickly, the brunette stepped back so that the leash in Patrick's hand tightened, forcing him to look back at his pet. "Hey," Bateman barked in a threatening tone, pulling on the leash to bring Andrea closer until she was level with him. "Behave yourself," he pointed an index finger at her, knitting his perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "Otherwise you'll..."

Patrick froze, the words stuck in his throat like a lump as Andrea wrapped her plump lips around his finger and sucked on it with pure devotion. Another couple seemed hypnotized by the scene as the lewd aura of Bateman and his lovely detective consumed them like a fog.

"And I thought you wanted to play with me first," Andrea purred after releasing Patrick's finger. "We don't need anyone else."

"Is that so?" Bateman murmured back, his pupils dilating by the second as he watched Andrea nestle against his large palm. "Or are you just jealous?"

Patrick nuzzled the detective's neck and cupped her ass possessively, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Andrea even forgot the couple next to them, the place they were now, she forgot everything. Just one bite was enough to bring down her defenses. That man, dear God, that man was a devil in the flesh. Disappointed and absolutely jealous, Jessica reached out to touch Bateman again, but her master wouldn't let her, tugging at the leash and forcing her to stay still. Andrea couldn't hide her pleasure at seeing this poor little bitch suffer, even though she felt terrible about having to act so damn lewd. 'I must have completely lost my mind.' 

Satisfied and sated, Patrick pulled away from Andrea to turn and wink at Jessica, making sure the detective didn't see it. "It was a pleasure to meet you," Bateman nodded to the stranger and his submissive. "Have a good evening."

With that, Bateman tightened his grip on the leash and made Andrea follow him. It felt like the party was getting even more crowded, female moans, male groans and seductive giggles blending into a wicked cacophony of sounds; Andrea's head was spinning from the strong scent of the aroma candles. 

"Where are we going?" Andrea asked suddenly as they turned another corner and walked down the dimly lit hallway. "Patrick?"

The man didn't answer, speeding up as if they were being chased. But by whom?

The woman could feel her heart pounding so painfully against her chest that it was hard to breathe, but when they reached their destination, Andrea felt weak in her knees. With a smug grin on his handsome face, Bateman opened the door, and the first thing Andrea saw were several large chains attached to the ceiling, holding what looked like a leather seat. Speechless, the woman took an uncertain step before Patrick placed his hand on the small of her back, urging her to get in. Once inside, a soft click of the door echoed through the small room with dark walls and intimate lighting. 

God, what was this place?

"Is it... some kind of torture chamber?" Andrea asked, looking around in complete shock. "Why... Why are we here?"

It took Patrick only a little effort to push Andrea's body into the leather seat, the woman still too stunned by her new surroundings and his quick movements. 

"You know, you could have told me earlier. That you want me all alone..." He leaned down, his left and right hands grasping at the attached chains, trapping Andrea close to him. 

There seemed to be no escape from those eyes—hypnotic and so hungry, a dangerous desire radiating from each of his smooth movements. If just the look could kill. If eyes could devour...

Andrea couldn't help but shiver.

"You're sweating, dear." His thumb began to stroke her forehead, caressing her cheek in a light gesture that would seem so uncharacteristically tender if she didn't know him better. Beneath the surface of this controlled seduction, he is the same beast as always.  "That feeling... you know the one. The one that makes your heart race and your fingers tremble, just like this." His hand now ran down her naked arm, rubbing circles of false comfort over her goosebumps. 

Down to Andrea's wrist, that vulnerable spot where the veins shimmered purple through her skin and her artery pulsed rapidly under the dull pressure of his thumb. She was alive, and that made him feel alive in a way that no words could express. 

"Is it fear or...? Are you so excited for me?"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and my amazing co-writer @iron-flavored-lipgloss and turn on notifications to know when we update!

[eskymoos]

Levi Ackerman- The Richest Man in the World

You wanted to make a normal date with Levi more fun and unconventional, but you forgot that he can read you like an open book. Word count- 1409 Female reader x Levi Ackerman SFW

Dating Levi Ackerman can be very exciting. From under the sheets to simple, humble dinner dates. He always has a way of making it memorable for both of you. There is one occasion in particular, however, that will never slip your mind.

It was a hot summer day in Trost when the two of you headed for the heart of the city. There was no end goal other than to put your responsibilities aside and save up some time for each other. You were having an amazing time when a great idea came to your mind. 

There was a tall building on your left– a multifloored store for dresses of all sorts. Green, red, blue. Short, long, exotic. All of it in one place. You weren't surprised considering that many wealthy people lived here and most of them could easily afford to fill their wardrobes with clothes. Your eyes turned to stars and your jaw dropped.

''Hey, why don't we go inside?''

You suggested that and Levi, who was holding your arm to his chest like a gentleman, glanced over at the entrance. ''Hmmm? You like something?''

''Not yet. Come on.'' You urged and he didn't set you back. The Captain followed right after you, curious as to what you had in mind.

The place really was huge and the store owners gladly welcomed you inside, inviting Levi to sit over at a sofa and observe for now. You began looking at every dress, mesmerized at how amazing all of their designs were. 

But there is another thing that you couldn't ignore. You wondered if the reason you never wore dresses is because your body type just didn't allow it or because your budget was too small. Nonetheless it all made you hesitate a bit. You went quiet for a moment.

''Are you okay?'' Levi inquired, already sipping on a cup of tea he was brought while you were zoned out. 

''Yeah.'' You clicked your tongue and resumed the search.

It was best you kept your worries to yourself. You knew Levi was always one to watch over you and be sensible. You didn't want to feel like you've wasted his time so you chose to pretend that none of the dresses were up your alley.

The first one you tried on was truthfully ugly. You didn't have to fake the reaction. The color made your nose scrunch in disgust.

''I feel like a disco ball. There are too many beads,'' you murmured and your gaze ran to your quiet boyfriend. Levi was silent but his eyes were burning right through you. He took another long sip and said nothing. No sign of any emotion. 

Then you tried another one on. It was very beautiful but too long and tripped you over a couple of times. 

''It's my style but too long. I would need them to shorten it.'' You looked down and realized that not even your legs were visible through the material.

Levi was still watching and still saying nothing. You're beginning to wonder if this is boring for him.

Then your interest was piqued by three others. Unlike the first ones, you actually had luck this time. The dresses were the perfect size, shape and color. In fact, they resembled the ones you used to read about in your books. It was a fantasy brought to your reality. 

But you couldn't have Levi know that or else you'd have to tell him how this entire time you didn't have the money for any of this. You know he wouldn't mock you but the guilt would eat at your heart.

''It's…something. These are getting progressively worse, don't you think?'' You asked for his input, finding his sitting reflection in the mirror. Once more his mouth didn't open to speak but his focus went up and down on you. Was he eye fucking you or judging your horrible taste? 

After a few minutes of doubtful thoughts and inner regret, you shrugged your shoulders.

''Well it's fine. I'm glad that we came here at least. Maybe next time I will buy myself something.'' You explained, sighing deeply. What nobody knew was that if you could, you'd collect every single piece of clothing in this building. That dream owned your soul. 

You put on your casual clothes and walked out the fitting room to Levi who stepped closer to you and brushed the hair out of your face. For a moment you got the idea that he was telling you something telepathically but you didn't know what.

''You are beautiful.'' He leaned in to tell you, his voice raspy yet smooth. 

The two of you left, saying goodbye to the workers inside. Your gut shrunk a bit. You didn't know what to feel about what just happened.

And so, the arrows of the clock kept looping and two days passed by. You heard a knock on your door.

You opened it to see Petra and Oluo– two very loyal members of Levi's squad. He had told you many times about them but you rarely saw them.

''Is everything okay?'' You rush to ask, already overthinking what could be happening.

''Oh yeah.'' Petra grinned warmly and lifted a strange, enormous bag in her hands. ''The Captain told us to bring this to you. Enjoy.''

The two nodded respectfully, deserting you there with your own thoughts and a lot of confusion. Why exactly would Levi send you something? The two of you lived together so wouldn't it make sense that he directly handed it to you?

You brushed off all questions and checked the contents of the delivery. Your eyes turned big and round when you saw the three exact dresses you fell in love with the other day. But how? You gave it your best to hide what you felt and even acted repulsed but somehow Levi saw through your disguise. Now it makes sense why he was looking so attentively at you. He was studying your face bit by bit as if it were some kind of science. He knew just what you had on your mind.

All of them were crazy expensive which made you freak out a bit. The Captain went out of his way to purchase them without even looking at the price tag? The idea that he went back for that made your heart melt. It also angered you a bit that this entire time he kept quiet and acted natural while you put up an act.

What a foxy man.

A small note fell off the bag onto the ground and you picked it up to see what was written on it.

Come to my office when you can. Bring the dresses.

Levi

Excited to hear from him, you did just that. You flew out of the house wildly and mounted your horse, heading for the location.

When you arrived, you opened the door to find Hange and Erwin inside, having a conversation with Levi.

Levi looked at you instantly and a spark began dancing in the coldness of his blue eyes. 

''Hange, Erwin, see yourself out,'' he commanded in a reserved tone. Erwin gave him a nod and greeted you idly before exiting. Hange did too, but not before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

''Don't know what you've done to him but he's not himself today.''

You gave them a baffled look. 

''Is that good?''

Hange just grinned, not elaborating any further. They stepped out and shut the door which left just you and Levi in the room. The air turned thick and hard to breathe for a moment.

''Levi, you spent all these money on–''

''Try them on.'' He cut you off, standing up from his seat and approaching you. ''Put them on again. This time be genuine with what you think.''

You sucked in your lower lip and try to formulate a sentence. ''It's too much. It's just too much. I can't possibly pay you back.''

He reached out and pulled you in his arms, his intonation full of sheer affection and pure devotion. ''That's not for you to worry. I want you to try them on and tell me if they need any adjustments.''

You put both hands on his shoulders, ''Are you sure?''

His face moved closer, his mouth caressing your ear. ''Why would I say it if I don't mean it?'' He chuckled. And before you could do what he requested you to, he took your hand and stole your attention momentarily to speak what was on his mind this entire time: ''You make me the richest man in the world, you know that?''

🌹

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 1)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

I stared despairingly at the huge stack of paperwork my line manager had just slapped down on my desk. I sighed and bit the inside of my cheek. None of my male co-workers had to deal with her extra work. This was such bullshit.

"Ah, you are a life saver, (y/n). What would I do without you?"

Her own work, probably, I thought to myself, sighing in exasperation as she left me to my souless cubicle.

By the time i'd finished up, it was getting cold out. After taking a detour to try and stave off the inevitable return to my shitty apartment, I found myself in front of a particularly expensive shop. My feet were aching from the heels my backwards regional manager insisted on the female admin staff wearing and my head hurt from the tight bun my hair was scraped into. His smirk was etched into my brain, as were his vile words on his latest visit.

"You're a very attractive young lady, even with your face like that. Your body makes up for it."

I felt pure rage rising up again at the memory. It was the way he's said it as though he truly believed it was a compliment. The laughter of my coworkers rang in my ears. To them it was all a big joke and I was just too uptight to appreciate it.

What I wouldn't give to see the area manager humbled one day... but that was pure fantasy and I knew it. I wondered what he'd buy with his overinflated christmas bonus this time, while we were all given a meeting to explain why they couldn't justify a minor pay rise to ease the cost of living crisis in Gotham.

The twinkling lights of the high end window displays were a beautiful contrast to the bleary grey outside, and after another hellish day in the purgatory which was the cubicle farm, my heart warmed a little. Everything in the store was definitely well out of my meagre price range, but the inner child in me was drawn in to look at all the pretty evening dresses and jewellery. I shrugged to myself, figuring there's never any harm in window-shopping and a little indulgent fantasy. Even if I could afford any of the opulent dresses, half of them were really ball gowns, and what events was I ever invited to where you'd need a dress like that? No, those sort of parties were for Gotham's social elite - charity fundraisers, galas and that sort of thing, no doubt.

I was half expecting a staff member to immediately spot me in my regular civilian garb and herd me back out of the door like a stray dog but they seemed to be dealing with a particularly difficult customer at the tills. She was waving her arms around and pulling a "do you know who my husband is?".

I stifled a laugh at the image of her, in her ridiculous fur coat shouting frantically and looking like she was about to give herself a anyeurism, if the prominent vein on her forehead was anything to go by. I turned away from her soap operatics and back to the rails of clothes in front of me. I gently touched the fabrics, marvelling at the softness of the richest velvet. Gazing at cool silk like rippling water; nothing like the cheap imitation the rest of us were accustomed to. I got drawn into my own little world imagining who might wear each dress and for what occasion.

"Can I help you with something?"

The voice pulled out the rug on my little escape instantly. I felt anxiety rising in my chest but resolved not to panic completely.

"Oh, I was just browsing..." I said, faking the best dismissive tone I could.

"You're sure, I'd be more than happy to help. Do you want to try anything?" She pressed, a friendly tone rather than the suspicion I had anticipated.

Perhaps my work suit was giving a higher-end impression than I had realised... or maybe she was new here.

"This one is particularly lovely, don't you think?" She gestured to the garment I unknowingly had a hand on, pausing as she'd approached. She wasn't wrong, it was a rich purple, ridiculous really, with layers and layers of tule skirting, but somehow the fine cut and quality of the fabric, and the detailing made it look classy rather than like something out of 'my big fat gypsy wedding'.

When was I ever going to get the chance to try on a literal ball gown? I decided to play into it, after all, I could always say I needed to go away and review my options. They couldn't make me buy it.

"It is lovely," I murmured.

"Do you want to try it on?"

"If it isn't too much trouble..."

Before I knew it, I was being whisked into a dressing room. The shop girl came whirling in with the dress and began unfastening it for me.

"Shoe size?" She asked briskly.

I hurriedly blurted out my answer and she dashed back onto the floor.

I kicked off my uncomfortable work heels and removed my blazer, skirt and scarf. Somehow I felt even more like an imposter standing there in just my undergarments and a pair of tights. I hurriedly pulled the dress up and held it in place. Before I knew it, she'd returned and began fastening me up at the back.

I gasped, both from the air being pushed out of my lungs as she cinched the hidden corsetry, and in awe at what I saw in the mirror. I had never had particularly wonderful self-image, but since the accident, I'd really shrunk into the background. I had always been shy, but i'd become a total wallflower these days. I hated the public-facing parts of my job - if it was telephone or email correspondence, people couldn't react in their myriad shitty ways to my facial scarring, but sometimes I was on front desk duty. Those were the worst days for me.

She made a minor adjustment to my hair, pulling a few strands loose around my face. To my surprise, she hesitated as she saw my scars up close, but didn't recoil, or pull more hair out to try and hide them. Her delicate fingers lingered for a moment, hovering above where my eyebrow was split into three by the forks of red lightning which were still deeply scored into my skin. I had mostly made my peace with it, but it was other peoples' reactions to my face that caused me the most pain. The grimaces, the staring, looking startled, regarding me with pity, strangers asking me what happened, it could all just be too damn much some days. It was a rare a beautiful thing to have someone not react negatively in some way.

I knew I was lucky to still be in the land of the living, and that I was in remarkable shape considering what happened that day, but it had left an inescapable mark. I anxiously ran my fingers over my temple, over the metal plate holding my skull together somewhere beneath the skin. She pulled her own hand back away slowly.

"You look beautiful, miss," she smiled with a genuine warmth that made me begin to believe it. It seemed as though she could sense my sudden swell of insecurity.

The shop girl was young, couldn't be more than sevetneen or eighteen, and I prayed that she somehow retained her gentleness in a city as ugly as Gotham.

"Thank you," I said, tearing up a little.

The dress itself was surprisingly lightweight and not like some kind of Victorian horror complete with a hoop skirt. Instead, it looked quite modern, and had a lot of volume in the skirt due to the layers of tulle fabric, which meant that you could still dance with ease. I did a little twirl for good measure, watching how it flowed and moved around my form. The shop girl smiled at my childlike delight.

Unfortunately, my elation was shattered in an instant. A chorus of screams and panicked shouts, followed by a spray of gunfire hit us like a slap to the face. The shop girl's eyes widened in confusion and panic, and I grasped onto her arm to steady myself. We strained our ears, trying to make out what exactly was happening. My brain was struggling to make the jump from the moment I had just been experiencing to the very real danger we were now thrust into.

After a couple of agonising seconds, there was another round of shots, and I heard a gruff male voice shout;

"Everybody get down!"

"Try to stay calm," I whispered, my own voice shaking.

I herded us into the corner of the booth and desperately gestured for her to undo the corset, not wanting to have to run for my life in the stupid dress. I could hear crashing and footsteps, as though the place was being ransacked and bit the inside of my cheek as the girl shakily tried to loosen the cord for me.

"Check in the back, we don't want anyone calling the cops!" came a voice which sounded unsettlingly close by.

Suddenly, someone burst through the door into the dressing room. We froze, praying whoever it was, wouldn't round the corner, but sadly it was too late. The scraping metallic sound of the curtains of each booth being flung aside echoed around the room. I counted each one, feeling as though my heart had stopped beating altogether, sick with anticipation. They were going left to right, and would reach us soon enough.

The curtain to our booth was torn to the side, and an enormous man stood in the light. The shop girl let out a yelp of terror as she huddled behind me with her head in her hands.

"Found two hideaways!" He yelled out, lurching forward to grab at us.

In a blind panic, my body blocking him from the terrified girl behind me, I kicked and struck out like a feral street cat stuck in a trap. I got a few solid kicks in but was ultimately not match for the man towering over us.

"Quit struggling you stupid bitch," he spat, striking me across the face.

Dazed, and with my eye stinging already, I felt another pair of hands grasp me and haul me out into the open. The barrel of a gun was quickly jammed into the small of my back.

"Stop causing trouble if you want to live," he hissed.

A third figure appeared and roughly forced the girl to her feet as well.

"This one looks so scared she might piss herself," he chuckled.

"Leave her the fuck alone," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Ooo, you got a mouth on you, huh, rich girl?" Said the one holding me at gunpoint.

"Mm the boss ain't gonna like that, maybe we should gag her," one of his companions snorted.

"Nah, leave it. I wanna see what he does if she gives him any back talk," crowed the third one.

They marched us out onto the marble of the shop floor. Both shoes had come off the moment i'd started to struggle against our attackers and the tiling felt cold as ice beneath my unsteady feet. I saw that there were three other men holding up the cashiers and the handful of customers as they huddled together in one corner.

"Look what we found in the back," announced the biggest of the three men, shoving us forward.

It was only then that I noticed everyone's attention seemed to be drawn to one man, a man who I couldn't yet see, on account of him facing away from us as he nonchalantly rifled through the nearest rack of clothing.

He was a fairly tall man, perhaps a little over six feet, wearing a long coat. It was well in need of a wash, covered in dirt and ashy, yet still obviously purple in colour - though perhaps not the vibrant purple it once was. His hair could best be described as messy; a straggly mop of green waves, with his natural brown hair showing through at the roots and in patches. His body language was odd, the way he held himself, with his shoulders hunched, unsettled me.

As he turned around, to see what his henchmen had brought in, I felt a pang of total despair. I recognised his streaky painted face from a recent news broadcast, and I knew instantly that we were in deep trouble. This was the man they called 'the joker'. I could hear the poor shop girl sobbing behind me somewhere, barely hiding her sheer terror.

"Ah more guests for our little party," he exclaimed, his voice and intonation seeming as erratic as his physical movements.

"What you want us to do with them, boss?" Grunted the shorter goon to my left.

"Put them with the others," he gestured, stalking forward.

I turned to watch as he approached the shop girl, my heart in my throat.

"And who do we have here?" He asked, in a tone mimicking gentleness, which was even more unsettling than his usual, more sinister way of talking.

"S-sarah," she choked out between sobs.

"S-sarah? What's wrong s-sarah? Are you s-scared?" He cooed, practically circling her like a big cat.

I felt sick watching him toy with her, and anger began to rise in my chest. Sarah nodded defeatedly.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Oh now why would you think we are gonna do that?" He exclaimed.

She didn't seem to know how to answer.

"Just do everything we ask, and some of you will live," he grinned patting her on the head, "put her with the rest," he gestured dramatically to the others in the corner.

His goons did as he asked and shifted her to where the others were cowering in the corner. I bit my tongue as his attention now shifted to me.

"My my, what a pretty dress, I love the colour," he purred, barely three strides away from me now.

I said nothing, hoping he would somehow just lose interest. There was still the largest goon stood beside me, pistol jammed into my lower spine so I didn't want to antagonise either of them.

He got close enough to reach out and touch me, pulling off one of his leather gloves with his teeth. The red painted smile, already smeared and smudged, left its mark on his finger tips with the clumsiness of his action. I was trying very hard to keep a steady breath, refusing to panic as I knew it would only worsen my situation.

"What's the matter? Are you shy?" He asked, that fake empathetic tone creeping in again.

"No, I just don't find that a hostage situation lends itself to free and easy conversation," I snapped back, unable to suppress my anger fully.

He tilted his head to the side, a glint in his dark brown eyes as they searched my face, scanning, analysing. In defiance, I stared right back.

In my struggle with his henchmen, my face had become half obscured by the hair which had come loose from my bun, and my hands being behind my back, I had not been able to move it out of the way.

Suddenly breaking his stillness, he reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a knife. The switch blade swung open with a characteristic clack. I bit my tongue even harder to try and subdue my panic.

He reached out his ungloved hand to rougly grasp my face. Everything within me was screaming to struggle free, to run for the hills, but I was stuck. I'd be shot down before I made it two steps, I knew that.

"You are beautiful," he mused, " tell me, does this," he moved the knife barely an inch from my face, "does this, scare you?"

I grimaced, unable to stop myself from recoiling at his skin touching my own.

"Do you ever wonder what life is like for the ugly?" He asked, flatly.

Undeterred by my shrinking away from his touch, he roughly used his fingers to comb my fallen hair back away from my face. Once the curtain of hair was lifted, my scars were revealed, and his face took on a curious, unreadable riot of emotion for a split-second.

"What's the matter, am I not as beautiful as you thought?" I muttered sarcastically, wanting to pre-empt his inevitable mockery.

He clearly liked to pick people apart, to try and tap into their biggest fears, so it seemed a sure thing that he would have plenty to say about my face. This only made me all the more dumbfounded when he put away the knife and his grasp on my face melted into something altogether tender.

His fingertips gently brushed over the deep valleys of my old wounds as though he was trying to read my story. I felt him follow the fork from my hairline at my temple all the way down, bridging my eye, down my cheek to the point mid way along the lefthand side of my jaw where it ended. As he did so, I saw for the first time up close his own grisly scars which formed a sort of permanent smile. The makeup he applied over the top made it harder to see from afar just how extensive they were. I knew from my own experience that the wounds had been more than skin deep, into deep muscle tissue. You could tell by how raised and pitted they were.

The man holding me at gunpoint seemed not to have picked up on this sudden change of pace, as he had plenty to say, even if the joker didn't.

"I shoulda warned you, she's a butterface," he chuckled, "you should do the other side to match, I already made a start," he gestured to the split eyebrow and puffy eye he'd given me on my good side.

The joker's body language rapidly changed again. I felt him tense up, even in his fingers against my cheek. It was as though every fibre in his body was taught suddenly, like he was a rubber band about to snap. His eyes seemed to darken, his irises almost like black pools against the black paint encircling them. I was suddenly very afraid.

He looked down at my face with an air of detachement, his tongue flicking against the inner corner of his lip.

"Would you excuse me for a second, doll?" He grinned, before his smile dropped flat again the moment he straightened up to full height.

"Give me the gun," he comanded of his goon.

"But boss..." the burly man protested, before removing it from my back and reluctantly handing it over.

There was a deafening crack and the smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils as my ears rang. Some of the hostages cried out in fear and for a moment I thought he must have shot me. I stumbled on the stupid dress, falling to the floor with a crash, dazed, my ears still ringing as I rolled onto my side, preparing for my seemingly imminent death.

Unexpectedly, my vision began to clear and the ringing dimmed down enough that I could try to collect my thoughts. I became aware of another figure in front of me on the floor. Someone was roughly pulling me upwards, trying to get me back on my feet.

"Up you get!"

Suddenly, I managed to re-engage my muscles enough to stand, swaying on legs that felt like jelly.

"There you go, see? You're fine," came a low voice to my left, practically right into my ear. I blinked hard as I began to make sense of what had just happened.

The joker shifted so that he was stood in front of me again, and gripped a hand under my jaw so that he could look me in the face. He turned my somewhat vacant face this way and that, as though he was checking I was still in there.

"Whoops! Probably should've told you to stick your fingers in your ears," he wheezed with laughter, releasing my face and waving the gun around casually.

My lingering confusion was cleared up when I realised the other figure on the floor was his own man. The others looked on, some unfased, some clearly very uncomfortable at this sudden decision to remove him from the equation entirely. He had shot him point blank, I couldn't bring myself to believe that it was in reaction to his insults. Surely this was just some kind of mind game going far beyond my comprehension... I didn't feel reasurred, I definitely didn't feel flattered, if anything it just showed the true unpredictability of the psychopath in front of me.

"Right, now that minor... detour is over, I want you all to stay calm, while we execute out little plan," he comanded, gesturing to the hostages.

Two of his men forced grenades into peoples shaking hands, pulling the pins so that they were forced to hold on to them, or risk them detonating. They produced a roll of duct tape and wound it around each pair of hands, so there was no chance of them tossing the grenades away from the group either. The others continued to stuff duffle bags full with the cash from the registers, and the jewellery from the display cases. I cursed the slow response time of the GCPD, although there was never a gurantee that their arrival wouldn't cause more of a bloodbath, since so many of them liked to shoot first and ask questions later. They had far too lenient of a threshold for 'collateral damage'.

I was expecting to be forcibly handed my own grenade, but instead the joker gestured to me. The way in which he waved me over was completely antithetical to the situation unfolding around us; it was so casual, as though we were long-time friends. Not seeing another choice, I gingerly approached him, and he, losing patience, roughly grabbed me by the arm and yanked me closer to him.

"These lovely people can stay here, but, uh, you..." he lingered on the word looking me up and down, as he taped my hands together in front of my body, "you, are coming along for the ride".

"Why?!" Was all I managed to get out as he shoved me roughly toward the front of the store.

He laughed, sending a fresh chill down my spine.

"Well, we have an opening, consider yourself the newest member of our operation," he said in a congratulatory tone.

Before I could respond at all, my head reeling in total panic, I was being tugged out of the door with my arms feeling like they were going to pop out of the sockets.

[inexplicifics]

Hi im a fashion designer/fabric artist (in training) and I have Many Ideas about witcher fashion via monsters!

Some background — as witcher lands become bigger, and trade becomes bigger, and witchers travel in packs — well monster parts become easier to carry, right? It starts with the ichor black dyeing — the laundresses start to wear the clothes and they occasionally travel, and they have extra fabrics so it sells on occasion too, but because 1) rarity and 2) Witcher, it becomes a status thing to own ichor black clothing and a way to try and be in favor of the witchers (“see? We wear your clothing we Totally Support You” whether thats true or not is up to the court the clothing is in). And then the dyeing laundresses start to do different fabrics too (like silk), to sell for even more money. This gives them the thought to ask for monster skin to be turned to leather. Or griffin feathers/skin. Or just their Outsides in general to see what can be sold, dyed, or both.

And Triss is a bit of a perfectionist, and she’s a researcher, so sometimes the boys will bring her back parts she wants to make sure they cant be used or cant be used in a better way — and well beetle wings and feathers are good in fashion so I wouldnt be surprised if Milena saw the monster leather, feathers, etc, and saw Triss discarding various bones and claws and something clicked.

So my list of fashion choices in Kaer Morhen that eventually travels out comes down to two big items seen in almost every culture on earth:

• dyed cloth (ichor black in this case)

• and (monster) remains such as hide for leathers, furs, feathers, scales, and bones for adornments or accessories

Any monster you look at can be categorized in this, for the most part. Some monsters have special items, like vampire fangs, and I could see warg feet being like rabbits feet, a sign of good fortune or ward against evil.

Cultures like what they cant have and is seen as rare, so Ciri walking into court on Progress having a diadem or tiara made of vampire teeth, her ichor black dress studded with silver and bone, embroidered with wyvern scales, griffin feathers in her hair and the ends of her dress, and warg fur around her collar and ends of her sleeves (or any combination thereof) — she’d be a picture of Rich and Powerful.

And with how sharp Milena is (pun intended) i could see her very quickly realizing how Witcher court would have a very specific style (the same way people say something is very French or “that outfit is very Redanian Noble”) because thats the power of world building!!! Different places have different resources and that reflects in fashion!!

Thank you for listening to me ramble I love fashion, historical fashion, and fantasy fashion so this really tickled me!

This is marvelous; it adds so much depth and knowledge to the world-building! Thank you!

[privatetrainingforsissy]

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[ill-written-god]

T | 1625 | m/m Steddie human/wingfolk | fantasy | winged!Eddie, wing grooming

The business was slow at first, but as the word spread, more clients were coming, including those that paid a lot for full treatment, from cleaning to waxing, and sometimes even dyeing. In a year, the salon became the best known in the region, with some arguing it was the best one. Maybe it wasn’t the biggest achievement considering the services provided were still hard to come by, but it was an achievement nevertheless.

Robin saw wingfolks from many species and all walks of life, but the man that walked through the door one Thursday afternoon was a sight to behold.

He was dressed in all black, the alternative type that didn’t mind cutting a hole through a shirt to accommodate his wings. The clothing matched his feathers, dark like coal and opalescent when the sun hit them just right. Black wings were rare in general, and their owners also kept to their circles. Steve could count on the fingers of one hand the times he worked on them in the past year of running his business.

“Welcome to Robin’s grooming service, how can I help you today?”

Instead of a greeting, the man looked around, studying the salon walls and the man who greeted him.

“I’ve heard you take in all the customers?”

Steve straightened his spine. It was a question he’s heard before, in many intonations.

“Yes, we care about the wings, not who they belong to or what color they are.”

He’s heard about salons that refused to treat black wings, running on a prejudice that black wings belonged to demons or, as some called them, corrupted angels. Thus why they kept to themselves.

The man relaxed a bit, finally approaching the counter. 

“Are you free today?” he asked, fingers drumming nervously on the wood.

“Yeah, I have noone scheduled. What would you like to get done?” he smiled, hoping to come off as reassuring as possible. His client didn’t look very convinced though. He fidgeted with the feathers of his right wing, curled slightly towards himself.

“Just the basics. I don’t have much money and,” he hesitated before admitting. “I’ve never been to a groomer before, usually my uncle did it, but his arthritis got worse, and, you know…” he shrugged sheepishly, realizing he's sharing more than necessary. “Long story short my band leaves for our first tour this weekend and I wanna look good on stage.” He smiled, finally, and Steve could read the pride and excitement behind it, despite how small it was. He offered his own, wide grin back.

“Congrats on the tour, man. It sounds like a special occasion.”

“Thanks, it kinda is, isn't it?” The man scratched his cheek, the sheepish grin back.

"My name's Steve, I'll be working on you. What's yours?"

"Eddie."

The man notes the appointment down in his calendar, then closes it.

“Well, let’s get you stage ready then. Would you like some tea? I have a great yasmine blend. Do you prefer to lie down or sit?”

“Sit, I think. Tea would be great.”

“Gotcha. Get comfortable, you can change the music, adjust the chair however you like. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The man sauntered to one of two stations in the salon, the one with the chair, tracing the leather before he turned to the radio and a stack of cassettes beside it. The wide selection of genres proved that the owner cared about his clients’ comfort more than imposing his taste on music on everyone. He shuffled through them, finally settling on an Aerosmith tape to pop it in. He settled on the chair, watching the man lineup needed supplies. A steaming mug of fragrant tea was settled down next to him.

“Thank you,” he said, following him with his gaze and then listening intently as he ran him through the process and the tools he’ll be using. First, came the brushing, to get rid of anything his feathers don’t need. It took him a moment to loosen up to the fact that a stranger was touching his wings, but when they finished the first one, he was relaxed enough to engage in some small talk.

“What’s the name of your band?”

“Corroded Coffin. We play metal, mostly covers, a few originals.”

The man hummed.

“Sounds fitting. Are all your bandmates winged folks?”

Sometimes this line of questioning would rub him the wrong way, but the groomer’s intentions seemed genuine. Besides, he got raving reviews from people Eddie trusted.

“Our drummer is fully human, but other than that, yes. Only mine are black, though.”

“They are beautiful,” the man said, and he blushed under the compliment, glad to be turned away from him. “Pity I don’t get to work on black wings often.”

“Well, if you do a good job today, who knows,” he offered. “Maybe I’ll need some grooming when I come back from the tour. Someone’s gotta brush away the leftover coke.”

Steve snorted.

“Oh, it’s this kind of tour? Sex, drugs and rock’n’roll? I’m fine with coke, but cleaning up sperm will cost you extra.”

Eddie choked on his spit, head snapping back to see the man’s cocky smirk. He could feel his cheeks heat up, imagining scenarios in which cum could get up there.

“Thanks, I think I'll manage,” he choked out, turning back away.

“I mean, it takes two, at least, and a good partner should help with it.”

“I guess so,” he mused, red faced against his arms, and the topic simmered out. 

“Were you in a forest recently?” the groomer asked instead.

“Uh, yeah, why? Oh no, is there a tick?!”

“No, no, don’t worry,” the man chuckled. “Just some pine needles. And twigs. Found a small pinecone too,” he said, showing him the findings in his palm.

If he gets any redder he might faint.

“Uh, that’s not cool, I’m usually more careful, I swear I’m not a slob-”

Steve stopped him, patting the bare skin between his wings soothingly.

“My friend has wings too, I know how easy it is to get stuff stuck in them after just a short walk through the woods. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about."

Eddie grumbled into his arms, melting further into them as if he wanted to disappear. The rest of the brushing was uneventful, with Steve mostly talking about his winged friend. Her name was Robin, the namesake of the salon, and she was a co-owner of the place. It seemed like they were close, but not once did Eddie get the idea the feelings between them were romantic. 

“Now I'm gonna clean them for any remaining dirt, then just conditioning and we’ll be done.”

Eddie nodded, watching him swap the supplies for the next task. 

Five minutes in proved him wrong for thinking brushing was his favorite part of grooming. Steve was way more attentive than his uncle, gently rubbing the suds into feathers. Under his touch, and with a faint smell of jasmine, he started dozing off. After the third time he jolted himself awake, Steve gently said:

“It’s okay, you can nap. You wouldn’t be the first one. I’ll wake you up to pick the oil when I’m done.”

Eddie nods once, and settles his head on his arms, letting himself drift off.

He’s woken up by a warm hand soothing the knobs of his spine. He purrs at the touch, still in a sleepy daze, before catching himself. The man chuckles, but doesn’t comment. He offers him a slim brown bottle.

“I have others to choose from, but I think this one would work for you.”

Eddie screws it open and takes a sniff. 

“It smells…” he searches his brain for the right word. “Foresty.”

“Yeah, Do you like it?” The man is grinning again, so Eddie rolls his eyes before admitting that yes, he does. Steve takes the bottle back. “You can go back to sleep, or I can make you some more tea or coffee if you’d rather wake up before leaving.”

As appealing as another nap sounded, Eddie didn’t want to embarrass himself further in front of the man.

“Coffee sounds great.”

“Gotcha. Be right back.”

He returned bearing coffee and immediately went to work. He rubbed the oil on his palms before applying it to the feathers with the same motion he’d been cleaning them with, slow and attentive.

Maybe not going to sleep was a bad choice, but Eddie determinedly sipped on his coffee, just letting himself enjoy the treatment. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” the man spoke up, surprising Eddie. He made a hum of encouragement. “For a favor, actually. I’d give you a full treatment for free as payment, of course.”

Eddie turned back to look at him, now curious. The man was focused on his wings.

“Just spill it, man.”

He breathed out, finally looking up to meet his gaze.

“I’d like to add your wings to my portfolio,” he motioned vaguely to the walls of the salon, decorated with photos of wingfolk. The main focus were their wings, some of their faces weren’t even shown, though some had make up and hair done - a secondary specialization for the salon. “Most of those are of my friends, but none of them have black wings. I’d love to have yours displayed.”

Eddie frowned. 

“You want my wings on your wall?”

“Greatly.”

“Wouldn’t that scare off customers?” he reminded. 

The man only huffed.

“Good, I don’t need people like that around me.”

Eddie was stunned into silence. He turned back to settle against the chair, considering the photos on the walls.

“Okay. I’ll contact you after the tour?”

“I’d love that. Thank you,” the man said with a smile in his voice and went back to work.

[curvylizzie]

Happy Halloween feeders and feedees

I thought I’d share another fantasy of mine since it’s the occasion, now this is more on the fictional side but bare with me

So as we all know, I love being round, I love being fattened up and/or get bred

As I walk through the woods, I suddenly start feeling hungry, ravenous even. I don’t have lunch with me and I have no idea where this is coming from since I just ate. Suddenly I see what seems to be an incredibly cozy cabin, with a fireplace, pumpkins outside, very Halloweeny, very autumn. I realize the closer I get, the hungrier I get. As I approach I hear the beautiful voice of a woman who is near, singing what seems to be a lullaby, and baking a pie. Her door suddenly opens in front of me and I hear her say “come in love, you’re hungry aren’t you~” and I can’t respond, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, dressed in a bat themed dress, pinup black hair and red lipstick. She invites me to sit down at her table, I’m incredibly anxious, and as soon as she puts the pie down, I do not waste any time and gobble it

She seems pleased, she looks at my clothing, a spider tank top that I usually wear, jeans that fit snuggly around my waist line, my hair down, a black leather jacket. She says that if I’m still hungry I can eat something else, and she brings out more sweets, and more and more. My belly starts to have a very visible mount, it rounds out and starts peeling from underneath me, my boobs seem to be bigger as well.

Suddenly it hits me, my belly touches the table and I realize that I’m getting fatter, but something seems off. The lady looks at me and says “my goodness you’re a poor little thing~ you’re so hungry, it’s almost as if you haven’t eaten in days~ after all you’re a growing girl aren’t you”

I nod in a shy manner, and she brings out more sweets but this time I start resisting, my clothes are about to rip my shirt shoes off the bottom of my belly and my pants are visibly tighter, along with my boobs which are bigger as well

“What’s wrong hun? Come on~ you have to eat~” as she says those words, even if I’m not eating, I feel myself bloat more, my belly grows an inch forward, and suddenly I feel my hands held down, almost by magic. They feel like I’ve been tied, my hands behind my back while I’m sitting down

“Otherwise, how are you gonna feed your own babies?”

“Babies?” I say louder, then suddenly I feel a kick, something coming from inside of me, my belly keeps on growing, and before I could question anything else, she shoves more sweets inside my mouth, keeping me clean along the way. She feeds me and feeds me more, I keep on growing until suddenly I feel relief, my button in my pants has finally given up and decided to pop in order to give my belly room to keep growing. My shirt is now past my belly button which somehow looks deep still. She makes me look at her as she cups my chin in her hand “ look at you~ such a cute girl, who knew someone so pretty could get so big and round for me~ wanna take a guess as to how many you’re carrying?”

“1?…. “

“No sweetie~ 4”

Fuck how am I supposed to carry four babies!? But my belly does it anyways and I keep on growing, my boobs are so large than my shirt now has been reduced to nothing but a makeshift bra, and they rest on top of me.

She keeps on looking into my eyes, I can feel her lust for me and I feel lustful for her as well. Suddenly I feel her finger enter my navel, and she starts fingering me there. I let a moan out, not only this is a huge fantasy, but I love my belly button played with, it turns me on so much I could orgasm just from this alone. It feels so sensitive that it almost makes me loose my mind

“I love playing with pretty girls like you~ do you like that? Would it be okay if I went a bit lower?” She says, i say yes and her hand starts moving downwards toward my pussy. Suddenly I feel her fingers inside of me, and I let a loud moan out, almost sounding like a cow

“My goodness you’re wet~ you’re such a good girl~ let me tell you a little secret you little cow~” as she leans forward to my ear, she bites it softly and smiles “I’m a witch~” she says, as she starts using two fingers, while her other hand lifts my heavy belly which is still grooving by the way, now almost to my knees

This is too much for me, and I can’t resist it anymore, I let one last moan out and suddenly I orgasm, like I’ve never before. My whole body shakes and my eyes roll back as she smiles “good girl~ look at you~”

She says, but i dont stop leaking there, i realize there’s a lot of fluid coming out, more than there should be

“Uh oh~ looks like someone just popped~ not to worry~” as I feel a contraction coming in, she leans close to my face, kisses my lips with the most amazing kiss I’ve ever had and says “you don’t mind if I keep you around now do you? We could do this every night~”

To what I nod yes, before I start pushing

[quills-of-freedom]

Short Story ~

The Farmhand Father 🌾

Male bodied reader X Historia

Warnings: 18+ NSFW smut. Breeding kink. Size kink. innocence tainting. Seducing. Orgasm denial. Slight pillow Princess Historia.

You remember mere hours ago that cute face of Historia blushing deeply, squirming in such a shy way, you thought it was absolutely adorable. Her huge, sky blues’ glancing away nervously, her hands behind her back a sure sign of her feeling uncomfortable as she confessed her desires for you.

This powerful, high queen dressed now in normal clothes as she came to your farm escorted by her two most trusted guards.

You blink, her words melting into a blur as if you were receiving some awful news.

Yet, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Queen Historia. In all her royal glory. Someone who had visited your farm a fair few occasions. Nothing special. Royal duties and all that. You had been in awe at her beauty - as were most. She was straight from a fairy tale. Innocent, pure and sweet.

No.

She wasn’t like she were from a fairy tale. Historia was the physical manefestation of inspiration to write the most gorgeous queen in the land. The most dangerous calling siren; her luring beauty so hazardously tempting.

You had to admit it, you were more than surprised to see her at your door, still looking devine even in nicely pressed civilian clothes.

“And so, due to royal duties I must produce an heir, to keep the Riess bloodline and - ”

You were sure you’d heard her but your mind just wasn’t accepting it. This had to be a dream. There was no way this was actually happening.

Perhaps you’d fallen and hit you head on the horse plough again and this was some weird coma dream. You were sure to wake up to those two Colten boys from the next farm over annoying you by trespassing. The usual, fantasy free life.

“Of course, I understand if you don’t want to. Please don’t feel forced because I am your queen. It’s just… You are my first choice. I’ve wanted you for some time.” Her crimson face glances away.

You already felt your cock twitch at the mere words of her suggesting what she was.

It was torture every single time she’s visited to boost morale of the farmworkers. Her graceful form would float in, her delicate frame surprisingly strong as she even helped out with certain tasks, her kindness overflowing, pouring into the hearts of her citizens.

God what you wouldn’t give just to smell her…

The amount of times you’d tugged yourself stupid, panting her name and imagineing her little pussy stretching around your colossal cock.

Boy was she in for a shock.

You hold yourself steady, your mouth watering with excitement. You did well to hide it. Surely if she knew how desperate you were for her, the extent of the yearning for her would surely make her rethink her decision.

You sit tense - still not really allowing yourself to believe this was real.

“What about your guards?” You ask, trying your hardest to keep your words steady.

She glanced back out of your living room window, the guards waiting by her carriage at the bottom of your large yard.

“They’ve been told to stay put. But, I don’t mean we do this right now. I want you, I do. But shouldn’t we get to know each other a bit more?”

Shit.

Now she was within your grasp, you couldn’t risk her changing her mind. This was an opportunity of a life time. And you’d be damned if she gave up her innocence to some soldier.

But what could you do?

You most certainly were not going to force yourself upon her. You weren’t a monster. Also, even if you were, you would probably be executed for such a thing.

And rightly so.

Your mind races as she stands up to excuse herself.

“It’ll allow you some time to think. I’ll be back here in one month from now.”

A whole month?!

30 whole days of knowing she wanted you, was wet for you and might change her mind at any given time?! No way were you about to let that happen.

You spring to your feet, throat now suddenly dry.

“Historia. If I may…?” You hold out your hand feigning patience.

You’re thrilled when her satin soft palm lands within yours, a touch you’d craved for the longest time. A gasp escapes her as you sit back down and pull her comfortably onto your lap. Her heart hammering with excitement as this strapping farmer she had been wanting for a while now pulls her down with such bold strength.

Her lips stay parted and that cute magenta tone etches her cheeks.

“Of course. Let’s get to know one another better.” You sneer. “There’s something I must warn you about.”

“Oh?” She sings in surprise as you allow yourself to finally inhale her scent. Her warm form on your lap was enough - your monster cock growing, yawing and stretching itself awake.

You swivel her around so she’s now straddling you as you lean back further into the chair, your hands firmly caressing her thighs as her crotch sits on your solid errection.

Her eyes widen, nails slightly dig into your skin reflexively when she feels the sheer size and girth of you. Her thighs subconsciously squeeze together as that Magenta colour deepens into more of a crimson hue.

“Oh… I…” She stammers, squirming uncomfortably.

She didn’t think it would be possible to want you more. You’d certainly caught her eye and she’d thought about you often, wondering how you were doing and wether or not you saw her the way she did you. And now, feeling your huge beast beneath her ceased all of her cognitive functions.

“Would that be okay, my sweetheart?” You coo, brushing her hair from her face and holding back a sneer.

You needed this to work.

You. A mere farmer about to fuck the queen. The innocent, pure queen who no one else had fucked (male anyway). You didn’t mind the rumours that she had dated a fellow female soldier in her cadet days. She’s still untainted by sinful cock.

Beneath your cool exterior was a panicked inferno of hazed lust. There was no possible way she was walking out of that door without being fucked by you, now you felt the warmth of her pussy rolling through the cloth of her panties under that skirt as her legs splayed across you.

Historia’s blood ran hot and she was close to crumbling.

“I need to go.” She muttered yet didn’t make a move. Her eyes were still wide - her mind telling her to leave but her body refusing to let her.

Your fingers snake up to her waist before you begin you push her back and forth, her slit rubbing against your large buldge.

“I just wanted to make sure.” You mutter, your soft facade quickly falling away as you have her warmth massaging you, moving her small form with such ease. “Before you go. I need you to be sure. I need you to really feel me. To know what you’re going to be having.”

Her face deepens in colour as warm, beautiful sensations caress her clit and folds as you rock her up and down against your length what was now throbbing; aching to be released and inside of her.

Wit great restraint, you prevent yourself from running your hands all over her. If you come on any stronger it would surely break the spell. You had to wait for the right moment.

“y-yes. Of course.” She swallows hard, her chest rising and falling as you push her down a little harder, your groan being held back.

“You’re so beautiful.” You marvel, as if it was your first time noticing it.

Her hands suddenly and quickly run up your chest as she leans forward with a moan and crashes her lips against yours, her hips now grinding against you on their own accord, your hands now free to roam up her back as her hands run through your hair with desperation.

You sneer into her mouth, her lust too far gone for her to notice as this beautiful woman rubs against you frantically like a cat in heat, moaning into your mouth.

“I need you.” She breathes, rubbing her head anywhere she could against you. “Please don’t let me go. I need you now. Please have me… Oh please…”

With a grunt you get to your feet, her body wrapped around you as you carry her towards your bedroom. Your tongue swirled around her sweet little mouth, devouring her as you lock your door behind you and lower her down onto your bed.

“Jesus, Historia…” You gasp when you see a wet patch on your trousers where she’d been sitting.

“I’m sorry!” She squeaks, mortified. You didn’t think there were a deeper shade of red on the colour spectrum as she slithers in embaressment.

“Don’t be.” You breathe, removing your damp pants and springing your cock free.

She gasps at the sight of your huge dick, it’s fat head gleaming with malice as it almost angrily pulses and throbs, demanding entrence inside of her.

Pushing her legs up harshly, you put your face close to her soaked crotch, finally inhaling her scent before you encase your mouth around her, sucking the moisture from the material - your hot breath feeling heavenly as her head throws back.

She’d never wanted a man so much in her life. Nor had she been so turned on in all of her twenty one years.

You continue to suck and hum, your wish finally coming true. You couldn’t wait to ruin her tiny frame, your fingers hooking at the cloth and pulling them down her legs.

“Please, don’t stop.” She pleads.

You glance down at her bloom that sat neatly between her legs.

Thick ropes of slick covered her small pink lips, her hunger making it twitch and clench, her insides spasming and trying to grab onto anything it could to ingest.

“fuck…” You sigh before leaning down and running your tongue up, moaning at her taste.

“Ah~!” She cries out in Hysteria, her back bending and hands gripping your sheets as you run your tongue painfully slow over her clit.

You had to give her the best orgasm of her life. You would go insane having her then not being able to again.

You take a fingertips and push it against her warm hole. You weren’t sure how your were going to fit inside of her.

You’d make it fit.

Your name leaves her lips over and over as you insert your index, her insides instantly pulling you inside with glee.

Suddenly you pull away, leaving her starving as you make her way up her stomach, removing her shirt.

“You can’t cum yet…” You explain as your trembling fingers removes her coverings. “It needs to be huge and at the same time as me. Best chance of becoming pregnant.”

She nods, pained but understanding.

“Gonna fill your pretty pussy with my hot cum…” You groan into her as her now freed breasts are caressed by your mouth. “Get you nice and full with me. Gonna breed you like a pedigree bitch.”

She whines at your words, your name repeating over and over as you kiss her breasts as if they were her mouth; tongue lapping and swirling around her pink nubs, lips smacking loudly against her soft, clean skin.

You lean back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Queen Historia, a flustered quivering and pleading mess - naked and splayed on your bed.

“Let’s get you a little used to my size, huh?” You grunt, pupils dilated with a predatory hunger, pushing her arms up by her head and hovering above her chest removing your shirt with one hand.

You push your leaking head to her mouth.

“Kiss it.” You command.

She does so immediately, her mouth pouting as she presses it against you, smearing your messy liquids around her lips. Rocking your hips you grab her hair with one hand pushing her mouth down. Her jaw is wide and you can only get her lips just past your huge head.

Hissing loudly you push her as far as she’ll go, her eyes tragically beautiful as they water at your size her warm mouth sealed tightly around you; her tongue flat as you rock her head by her hair, her stifled moans loud and hysteric.

“Shi~~~t…” You sigh, as she gags and chokes, the back of her throat spasming around you, pulling her faster as you thrust into her, now with two hands as you push yourself up higher onto your knees.

“You’ve never had your mouth around a dick before, huh?” You ask.

She shakes her head, wet lashes fluttering with blinks before they roll with another loud choke.

You pull out, allowing her some air, ropes of her saliva sticking to you, keeping you connected to her mouth.

She whines your name after her gasp of oxygen before you push yourself back in, thrusting harder than before, your grip on her hair nice and tight as you skull fuck your queen.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll only ever want my cock.” You hum, sneering as her eyes roll furher, the squelching noises like music to your ears. One final deep thrust and you pull out, your orgasm brewing at a dangerously high speed.

“Take me, please!” She begs. “I need you inside of me! I’ll do anything… Please!”

Panting you spread her legs, the arousal of you fucking her mouth now a wet patch on your bedsheets. Taking the bottom of your shaft you line up to her heat. You can already feel her walls trying to pull you in from within her. You sluggishly rub your thumb againt her external g spot, pushing yourself forward.

She cries out loudly, her spine folding backwards and head tilting as your head squishes into her tiny hole.

“It’s s'so big… Ah~! I’m so full!”

“Oh baby…” You frown. “My head isnt even fully in you yet.”

She whines in response as you slowly rock yourself, your angry errection tainting her with its poison, her purity ebbing away with each push, each millimetre that slides inside.

“So fuckin’ tight.” Your moan is desperate, hungry and predatory.

Glancing down you see her lips splitting apart at your girth, the pink colour washing out into a faded white as they attempt to swallow you.

“y/n!” She warns. “I can’t. It’s too good!”

You were inside of her now. You were too far gone to care as her entrance begins to spasm at the delicious full feeling of you, her orgasm hitting her hard as she silent screams, her eyes rolling.

“Fuck…” Your mouth waters as she gets even wetter, her ridged tunnel attempting to pull you in deeper. You take this opportunity, harshly thrusting into her while her mind was swirling in the void. You jut forward as your head finally passed her entrance, just as she comes back around.

You can’t believe your eyes as you see the bump of your head pushing up against the flesh of her lower stomach - the sight alone almost making blow your thick load.

Historia is now extremely needy, her hands pulling you down and her lips taking yours faithfully as she sobs.

“S'so… Good. Ah~! Don’t ever s'stop. Baby…”

“Never.” You grunt pushing further into her.

“I can’t… I’m going… Again…!”

Your eyebrows fly up in surprise as her nails sink into your back as she clings to you for dear life, holding you as close to her as possible as she cums once more around you.

Your eyes furrow closed. It was getting harder and harder not to cum and you hadn’t even thrusted yet. You still weren’t fully sheathed. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten cocky and fucked her sweet mouth.

You finally push yourself fully into her as her tongue lolls from her mouth.

“s'so full ah~! Y/n.”

You begin to slowly dip into her, her snug insides so warm and tight, embracing your length lovingly, clamping and dancing around you in joy.

“I can’t… Go back ” she suddenly groans. “Not without you. Without this. Come back with me. Fuck me whenever I please. Your queen commands it.”

Had you died and gone to heaven?

You nod. “Sure.”

“Fuck me like this every night. I’ll just lie here and your size alone can just… Ah~! Again~!”

Your dick is squeezed again, as she cums for a third time without much effort on your part.

“Fuck me over and over. Keep impregnating me. Only your cock is good enough, y/n. Yes! YES!”

Those words pushed you over the edge as well as her greedy tiny cunt sucking out your essence.

“Historia. I’m gonna cum.”

“Give me it all.” She sobs. “I want every last drop!”

Your pace quickens your hand grabbing and tugging her hair once more.

“Your dick is the only one I’ve had. And only one I ever will. It’s too good not to own. It’s mine now. Fuck me, please!” She cries out as she cums yet again.

You roar as your thick, hot cream splurges out of you, colliding with her cervix as she milks you dry. It sure as hell felt like she was taking every last drop - your orgasm going on and on. Your cum is leaking out of her stretched lips by the time you’ve filled her to the brim - her eyes in the back of her head and mouth open.

She’d meant it too. You didn’t even have time to pack your stuff after you’d recovered as she whisked you away to her carriage. Admittedly, she was walking a little weirdly for a few days after.

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 5: On a Knife Edge (Knife Kink)

🔞MINORS DNI��

Pairings: Spy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin

Tags: Knives, edgeplay, hair pulling, dom/sub, fearplay

Word Count: 2.1k

The Masterlist

You sat anxiously on the edge of Spy’s bed. His room was much fancier than you had expected, and certainly more organized than the private quarters of any of the other mercenaries. Spy had probably made efforts to make it look even nicer than usual for tonight. After all, the two of you had planned this well. It figured that he would take time to make the environment just perfect,

Across from you, at the other side of the room, stood Spy, holding the blade you would be using, still secure in its sheath of fine leather. He removed it from its confines with his back turned to you, not yet giving you the honor of seeing its fine craftsmanship. He ran a handkerchief over the length of the tool, making sure it was clean and sterile before finally turning back to you and finally allowing you to gaze upon it. You flushed at the sight of the sharp edge, gleaming and ready to be used.

The knife was ordered especially for this occasion, just a few days after you had first told Spy what you wanted to try out. It was a smooth, black dagger with a silver edge that glinted in the dim light of the room. The handle was just as finely crafted as the blade itself, with minuscule engravings and tiny details that you could admire for hours. You eyed the sharp edge hungrily as Spy turned it over in his hands, taking his time to admire it as well before finally meeting your gaze.

“Shall we begin, mademoiselle?” He asked, as if your blushing face and lust filled gaze weren’t enough to indicate that you were more than ready.

“Absolutely,” you said breathily. You were practically drooling, and Spy hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Bonne. Stand up,” he said, beckoning you forward with the knife. It was a gesture that made you shiver with anticipation, and you obeyed him immediately.

Spy paced around you, looking you up and down as if sizing you up. The tension was palpable and it only became stronger the longer he stared at you like this. Time seemed to go by far too slowly, but you remained patient. Spy was fulfilling one of your greatest fantasies, after all. The least you could do was let him have his fun too.

“Strip for me.” Spy’s command was sudden and curt. “And make it quick, or I’ll have to cut those clothes off of you.”

You let out a shaky sigh, considering for a moment that you might actually want Spy to cut open your clothes. In the end, you decided to remove them yourself. You hadn’t exactly dressed for such an occasion, as you were rather fond of the clothing you were wearing. Perhaps next time you could plan ahead and buy some cheap garments for Spy to tear into.

Despite being told to strip quickly, you still made a bit of a show out of it, swaying your hips as you lowered your pants and underwear to the floor. You watched his reaction closely as you removed your top, and allowed yourself a sly grin when his gaze immediately lowered from your face to your chest, blatantly admiring your assets. You had half a mind to tease him for displaying such ungentlemanly behavior.

“Good. Now, on your knees, right here,” He continued, tapping his foot in front of him to show you exactly where he wanted you.

You obeyed immediately, looking up at him expectantly, and more importantly, at that promising knife he held in a vice grip. You had seen Spy’s skill with knives. To be specific, you had seen Spy’s skill when it came to killing with knives. It only made the thought that in a few moments those skilled hands would be sliding a knife across your skin even more arousing.

Spy admired you, looking down at your naked body, your posture displaying a willingness to serve, to be controlled. As you looked up at him, however, you noticed a flicker of hesitance in his eyes. His gaze softened and he placed a hand on your shoulder, kneeling down to look you in the eye. The leather glove against your now bare skin made you shiver.

“Do you remember our safe word?” He asked. You nodded, after all, the two of you had gone over it several times. It was one of Spy’s requirements for doing this, and you agreed that it would be a good precaution to have in place.

“Make sure of it. Say it, then we may start,” he said. You were very hesitant to do so, but you obeyed. You noticed Spy visibly shrink back at the sound of it, but he quickly regained his composure. Now confident that you would be safe, he looked all the more willing to bring you under his control.

“Well then, let us start,” he said. You watched eagerly as he unzipped his fly, displaying his erection in front of you, but you didn’t do anything yet. Instead you simply looked up at Spy, batting your eyelashes and playing dumb to what he obviously wanted you to do. The response you got was exactly what you were hoping for; the edge of the blade placed against your shoulder in warning.

Spy didn’t need to say a single word. The cold, sharp steel against your skin was the perfect form of instruction for you. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself, feeling him tremble slightly as you took him into your mouth.

As you began to move your head, Spy flipped the blade so that the dull edge was pressed against your skin, so as to not accidently cut you. He wasn’t shy about moaning, letting you know how well you were doing. You would have smirked if your mouth was not otherwise occupied. You moaned softly, knowing that it added a pleasant vibration for him. Your eyes watered as you tried to take him deeper than you were used to. You wanted to do a good job.

Spy suddenly reached down with his free hand, pulling you off his cock with a tug of your hair. You gasped at the rough treatment, looking up at him with a nervous smile on your face. He brandished the knife again, making sure you got a good long look. You couldn’t help but shrink back a little at the sight. It was a rather intimidating blade.

“You’re practically shaking. Does this scare you, chérie?” He asked, tugging your hair again in order to get you to stand up. Now up close, you could examine the blade even more thoroughly, admiring every curve and detail.

“Yes,” you responded, voice quivering and a euphoric grin spreading across your face despite the fact that you had just admitted that you were scared. Of course, that fear was just as enjoyable for you as any pleasure you may also receive. The adrenaline that coursed through your veins as Spy trailed the knife edge across your skin, teasing you with the possibility that he may draw blood, was just as intoxicating as it was frightening.

You almost whined when he drew back. Ironically, the lack of frigid metal against your skin left you feeling cold and neglected.

“On the bed, now,” Spy ordered, lust clouding his gaze. It made him all the more alluring, and you obeyed without question, kneeling in the center of the mattress and waiting for him to make his next move.

“So well behaved. Although, it’s almost a shame. I was hoping that I would need to slice those garments off your body earlier,” Spy mused as he looked you over. “Oh well.”

He seemed to consider you for another moment before removing his pants completely, which were already sliding down his hips from your previous efforts. You eyed his cock with a desperate, needy gaze. He was still just as hard as when you had taken him into your mouth, and you were more than willing to take him elsewhere.

And of course, there was also the matter of that knife. Shiny, black, and sharp as ever, just perfect to be pressed into your skin. Deep down, you knew Spy would never actually cut you, but in a headspace this immersive suspension of disbelief became quite the malleable thing. As you allowed yourself to drift deeper into that obedient, docile mindset, you also allowed yourself to enjoy that unique thrill, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Spy might lose control and draw blood from your supple flesh.

He crawled onto the bed and moved behind you. You didn’t dare look back at him without permission. You kept your eyes forward, letting the tension build as he ran a gloved finger up your spine, making your whole body shiver and drawing an audible sigh from your lungs.

“Spy, please,” you gasped as he continued to tease you with ghost-like touches, all too gentle for your tastes. You longed for the sharp edge that you knew he could be using instead.

“I’ve got you, my love,” he whispered, the breath against your ear sending yet another shiver through you. You gasped as you felt Spy grab your waist firmly, pulling you backwards onto his lap, and positioning you over his cock. Finally, you glanced back at him, looking to him for permission. A short nod was all you needed, and you lowered yourself down onto him, already wet enough from all his previous teasing.

“Spy!” You moaned his name as you finally felt some relief from the arousal that had been building in your core. He thrust up into you, pulling your back flush against his chest as he did so with a firm grip on your torso.

“Yes darling, juste comme ça. Keep saying my name like that,” he said, his dominant tone melting away slightly as he let himself give into the pleasure more.

“Spy!”

“Again,” he demanded, his grip on you tightening as he adjusted his angle, letting him thrust up into an especially sensitive area.

“ Spy!” You practically screamed his name, both from the stimulation to your g-spot and in response to the sudden sensation of a cold edge pressed up against your throat. In the throes of your pleasure, you hadn’t noticed one of Spy’s hands leaving your waist in order to grab the knife.

Your breath hitched as you realized that at this angle, there was no way to tell which side of the knife Spy had pressed against your throat. For all you knew, it could be the sharp edge. Unlikely, perhaps, but still possible, and that possibility was all you needed for the adrenaline to start rushing again, increasing the pleasure that was already reaching a peak.

That sweet combination of fear and pleasure finally overwhelmed you, pushing you over the edge, all the while you remained hyper aware of that knife against your neck. That factor only increased the intensity of your orgasm.

Spy moaned as you writhed against him. When the knife finally dropped away from your throat you glanced behind you, watching him thrust into you frantically until he also reached his climax.

You collapsed onto the mattress, breathing fast as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. Spy set the knife on a nightstand before shakily laying down next to you, just as blissed out as you were.

He ran his hands over your body, making you sigh. It was only when he tilted your chin upward that you realized what he was doing. He was examining you, making sure he hadn’t accidently cut you anywhere in all the excitement. It made you feel cared for, and the moment he was sure you were not hurt he wrapped you up in his arms. Once again you were pulled against his body, although this time it was far more gentle.

“You did well, my dear. That was quite enjoyable,” Spy said, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You nestled your face into his chest, soothed by the warmth of his body against yours. “We should do it again sometime.”

“I would like that very much,” he said with a chuckle, running a hand over your hip and squeezing, making you gasp louder than you meant to. So, he still had the energy to tease you even after all this? Well, two could play that game.

“Next time, I might not be so well behaved,” you said, leaning up to whisper in his ear. You felt him shudder against you, clearly enticed by your words. “In fact, you might get a chance to cut my clothes off after all.”

[white-cat-of-doom]

Odd question, but do you think the cats wear clothes?

Apologies for the delay, Anon!

This is not a weird question at all! Throughout the show we see many Cats wearing song costumes or changing between their chorus character and song character designs and some of them can definitely be assumed to be wearing clothing, even if never explicitly stated. This is, of course, not mentioning collars as I do not consider that clothing.

As with basically everything in the show, it is up for interpretation whether the Cats wear clothes as we see them in the show, or would wear clothing at any point outside of the context of the musical. Depending on how fantastical you want to be also plays a role in this thought. If you want them to be more like an actual cats, it becomes a very narrow field of characters, but adding more of the magic of the Jellicle world can increase that number.

For me at least, I think only a small portion of the characters actually wear clothing at any point. Most of the context in the musical related to clothing seems more to accentuate the theme of the song or appearance of a character more than the fact that they are dressed a certain way. You can see this most prominently in how the Cats dress up as Pollicles or Beetles, where the costumes are more thrown together and silly than actual articles of clothing.

From a canon standpoint, Skimbleshanks is the only Cat that I think routinely wears clothing, more specifically a fun train conductor uniform that was made for him as an 'employee' of the Midnight Mail. This is further shown in his 2019 design, where he is always shown wearing clothes.

From here, it becomes a bit more unclear of who might be wearing clothing, but I will focus one those who change costumes during the show.

We see Jennyanydots go through two costume changes in her song, but I do not think she wears clothing often, more donning the Gumbie Cat and Tap costumes for special occasions, if viewed from a Jellicle standpoint. From an actual cat standpoint, she has never actually worn any costume and those song costumes are only meant as fun additions to how she is viewed as a lazy cat during the day, but then zooms around the house at night.

Gus has the appearance of wearing clothing to an extent, but I view it more as an older cat wrapped in a nice blanket that he has owned for many years and is embedded with his familiar scent, and which acts as a point of comfort as he begins to be effected by a decline in physical and cognitive health. This works in either a realistic or fantasy point of view.

For Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, I do not think they actually wear clothing, outside of the pearls that Rumpleteazer has and wears infrequently, either given to her by her owners or obtained another way. Their respective song costumes are strictly to poke fun at the fact they look very similar, and, like Jennyanydots, only for a few minutes of fun in the Jellicle world.

I do not think Rum Tum Tugger actually wears a belt or has bandanas, and that this is meant more as a design choice to show him off as a 'rockstar'. In a Jellicle view, he would be more inclined to dress like that all the time, as opposed to those mentioned above who only wear things on occasion.

Bustopher Jones is a chubby tuxedo cat, and does not wear any clothing as a normal cat. Even in the Jellicle world, I do not think he actually wears a special suit with spats, and it is only his rich coat that is emphasized in context of the costume. Saying that, he does have a monocle because he is a fancy cat with some poor eyesight.

Mistoffelees is a normal black cat in my opinion that is just cheeky. He does not really light up or sparkle extraordinarily as a normal, and even in a Jellicle setting I do not think he would have a separate jacket like they show. He can do the above more as an illusion rather than magic to alter his appearance. (Depending on your interpretation, he may be able to shape shift, and it is implied that he is magical in some way, but that requires more explanation than here).

Grizabella is tricky in the sense that she is very obviously dressed up in a form of clothing, but I do not think she actually wears anything, again coming down to it more showing her as a past Glamour Cat in a design context rather than her in costume. The revised design make this point harder to separate, but viewing the older design, or what is currently used in Japan, and you can understand more what I am getting at. She is/was a glamorous cat that in my view was a show winner, being well groomed and taken care of until something happened and (depending on what you think) she was abandoned/left the Tribe/was exiled or whatever reason for her to fall into disarray. The tattered clothing in her design is meant to empathize that transition into despondency from fame rather than her actually wearing a dress.

I view Growltiger and Griddlebone as a seperate characters who look like their costumes, so Gus or Jellylorum dressing up is not actually meant to be themselves in costume from a certain standpoint, but they are portraying the two is the context of the musical, as a homage to past theatrical performances. Outside of that (perhaps confusing) circumstance, I already mentioned Gus above and Jellylorum would not wear anything.

For everyone else, I cannot see them wearing clothing at really any time other than maybe a one time thing for fun, but not as actual cats.

I view everyone more as actual cats that gather together and see themselves in these more grandiose situations as seen in the musical itself, rather than say having special cat sized clothing that they can or will wear.

[natasha-in-space]

Secluded Waltz

Ray/gn!reader;

It's good to celebrate your achievements, and what better way to do that than to organize a grand party for all the believers to enjoy? Thankfully, you don't have to worry about much. Especially with Ray as your partner in the ballroom.

"Oh, I'm sure Mr. Ray will be in pure awe once he sees how wonderful you look!" A young unnamed believer chirped from behind you, busying themselves with fixing an unruly strand of hair that kept refusing to stay in its proper place. You shifted from one foot to another, feeling a little uncomfortable being treated in such a peculiar way, particularly by someone who didn't even have a proper name given to them. This almost felt like you were a royalty of sorts, one that didn't even have to worry about getting dressed in the morning. But... This particular believer was quite friendly with you, complimenting you on how good you looked in your party outfit quite a few times already.

Perhaps Ray chose them personally from among the others.

"Haha, thank you... He does have good taste. I trust him." As you exhaled, you carefully tied one last delicate magenta bow on your collar to complete the look. Not having to worry about what to wear to such a formal event was nice. Everything has been already carefully decided for you, down to the tiniest of details.

A part of you felt somewhat sad because you couldn't ask them to become your friend. You were aware that this is not the way things operate here. At least, not for you. Still, you appreciated the pleasant company while it lasted.

And, knowing Ray, he chose something incredible just for you.

"He's been very excited to see you today, tester. We haven't seen him this bright for months! I'm sure our Savior will be very pleased to see how happy you made him. Maybe you'll even get welcomed officially!" The believer smiled, hurriedly giving you one cheeky wink that made you blush and lower your gaze onto your lap. Sometimes you forget that this place is filled with all kinds of people, with their own inner social circles and unique personalities. It was rare for you to interact with any believer in such a casual way. Most of the times, you were pretty much confined to your room, excluding the rare occasions on which Ray would take you out for a walk personally. Initially, you wanted to explore the floor you settled into, but it seemed barren and isolated from the rest of the building, leading to your disappointment.

This thought made your cheeks warm up, as you tried your best to keep your heart from racing and wondered just what his reaction would look like once he finally sees you in all your glory. Frankly, even you had no idea what the finished look will look like. Of course, you already knew you did not have to worry about him feeling disappointed with you... Frankly, you could go out wearing nothing but a dirty potato sack, and he would compare your charm to one of the spring flower in bloom. Even so, you had the desire to surprise him...

You were a stranger here, and despite being treated with respect by believers, it was evident that you were not a good fit. At the very least, not yet.

The final pieces of clothing were put back in their proper places in no time, and you were taken down the long halls to the ballroom. It's true that this shouldn't have surprised you so much as it did. Magenta has all kinds of rooms hidden within its many winding corridors, both big and small. This thought both impressed and scared you.

What is the size of this place? How many of its secrets are still being concealed from you?

Either way, the paranoid fears and doubts that were raging inside your mind like a swarm of angry hornets disappeared as soon as the large ornamented doors were opened, leaving you in awe of the bright sight before you. The ballroom was huge and bustling with life, creating a picture that was straight out of a fantasy movie. Intricate decorations were carefully adorning the white room: from the long mint ribbons hanging on the walls to the expensive looking candlesticks resting on the tables where the guests sat. Long strings of fairy lights adorned the ceiling, leading to the breathtaking chandelier placed right in the center of the room, strung right above the waltzing pairs of believers chattering and laughing between themselves. Upon inspection, it was evident that every individual column was adorned with vibrantly colored flowers, with stunning daffodils blooming in the center.  

And there, standing right in front of you and taking you in, was none other than Ray, very clearly studying your reaction to it all. He was happy with the result based on the proud twinkle in his eye. He wasn’t in his normal magenta suit you were so used to seeing him in, but instead in a breathtaking white one. The tails of his blazer were tipped with golden lines, very similar to ones you could see scattered on the decor all around you. His suit hugged his slim waist in all the right places, inadvertently making you think and ponder what it would feel like to place your hands on the small of his back and pull him towards you, until he was pressed flush against you. The bright lights of the ballroom made large golden buttons shine, stealing your attention from the light mint button up that was visible underneath his clean white suit. Instead of the blue rose you grew familiar with, a large begonia was placed front and center for you to admire. The outfit framed him almost perfectly, sweeping you off your feet from just the sight of him alone. Only to add more fuel to the fire that was blazing deep within your chest, as your wide eyes slowly trailed up his body to meet his piercing gaze, you could notice how he styled his hair a bit differently from the usual, his long bangs swept to one side of his face to create a new princely look that is going to make your heart burst tonight for sure.

There was something very different about the way he stood today. His back was strengthened, and his mint eyes bore right into yours without a single sign of insecurity swimming in them. It was... honestly, way more attractive than you were willing to admit.

"Ray..." A breathless gasp was all you could muster out of yourself, unknowingly taking a few steps towards him. You were attracted to him like a moth to a flame, and you weren't planning on resisting his warmth anytime soon, that's for sure. "You look... Wow... You're... beautiful."

It looks like you're going to be the one who blushes and blubs tonight.

"I'm not nearly as beautiful as you, Y/N. But... I'm happy you like it. I tried really hard to pick out something you might like. I wanted... to look worthy to call you my partner tonight." He smiled bashfully, his unusual confidence slipping away for a few fleeting moments as he closed the distance between you two and gracefully took one of your hands in his. The bustling ballroom faded around you as his other hand slowly lifted up to caress your cheek with the back of his glowed fingers, a touch so light and gentle that it was almost unnoticeable. But, you felt it, your heart skipping a beat at the contact. God, you could feel your knees buckling just from this brief touch alone. Your increasing nerves temporarily taking control over you, you couldn't help but giggle, dropping your gaze to the ground, and praying that your face wasn't as bright as a ripe tomato right now.

No words could possibly convey to him just how breathtaking he was in your eyes. It wasn't sufficient. You wished you could take your thundering heart straight out of your chest and place it into his hands, only to show him what a great effect his beauty had on you.

Look who's blushing now.

"It's perfect. You're perfect. I-I mean, the outfit. The outfit is perfect. B-But you're always perfect to me, it's just- Agh, you know what I mean..." You made a mess of yourself by babbling and tripping over your own words. If it wasn't for Ray holding onto your hand, you would definitely try to hide your burning face in your palms. Though, judging by the amused chuckle pouring into your ears like the sweetest melody known to humankind, he did not mind your stuttering nearly as much as you did.

He leans back to allow you some breathing space and tilts his head adorably to the side, with a glint of mischief flickering through his warm eyes. "There's no need to be nervous around me, prince/ss. You look absolutely breathtaking with this blush on your cheeks... I'm happy to be the reason for your heart to flutter."

"Haha... Well, it's good to know I'm not ruining anything with my awkwardness." You acknowledged and gave him a small grateful smile for his warm reassurance. Honestly... he was right. There was no reason for you to be so nervous around Ray, of all people! You trusted him, and you wanted to prove that to him any way you could tonight. So, you took a deep breath to calm your jittery thoughts and straightened your shoulders, wordlessly telling your body and mind to relax.

Ray's new side was definitely enjoyable, even if you had to endure the burning in your cheeks throughout the night. He brought to mind a prince charming from the fairytales you read as a child. Did his recent success with his work lifted his spirits, perhaps? Either way, you were happy to see him so bright and open for once, whatever the reason for that may be.

He nodded, returned your smile with one of his own, before offering you his arm silently in an invitation that looked straight out of some historical romance you'd watch on Saturday night. "You could never ruin anything for me, so please don't worry about a thing, alright? I want to ensure that you're feeling comfortable... Now, shall we?"

You smiled and grabbed his arm, feeling like you were on cloud nine. Holding onto him like this felt so right... It's like you were two puzzle pieces that were meant to be locked together in this wonderful way from the very start, however sentimental this may sound. You were living out one of your many daydreams involving your white-haired friend, and you were going to make the best of it while you still could.

You soon found yourself being easily transported around the ballroom, avoiding the crowded and loud center and opting to stay hidden under the safety of columns adorned with beautiful flowers, like a makeshift garden of sorts, just for you two to enjoy. To be honest, you hadn't expected it to be so simple to let go of your usual worries and dance with him without any doubt hindering your movements. After a few first nervous steps, you moved as one, loosing yourselves in the gentle melody enveloping you in its weightless embrace and each other's eyes. Ray was a much better dancer that you initially thought of him. The way he moved was light and airy, just like a magical phantom who arrived to enchant you with his wits and take you away on the ballroom floor. Never once did you stumble or loose your balance; his glowed hands always kept you steady and safe, and your skin was warm under his gentle touch.

Did he... practice before this, perhaps? You wouldn't put something like that below him. He would try his best to make this experience perfect for you... even if it meant learning how to waltz.

This thought made you giggle to yourself as you spun and turned together. Your quick steps slowly turned into quiet and delicate ones as the cheery melody subsided into a more intimate and somnolent one.

"I don't want for this moment to end..." You admitted with a hushed whisper intended for him alone, tilting your head slightly to gently rest your forehead on Ray's shoulder as you swayed back and forth to the gentle melody.

It was as if you were the only two in your own little world, shielded from any prying eyes or judgmental whispers. As you moved together in perfect sync, the lightness in your chest was almost hypnotic. Oh, how you wished this magical night did not have to end... For this moment to last forever, keeping away every worry waiting for you outside of these doors.

"Me too." He murmured, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him, his body heat reaching you from underneath all the layers of clothing, like a small reminder of him truly being here with you in person. You smiled, breathing in his floral scent you loved so dearly, and closing your eyes. It wasn't long until you felt his fingers caress the top of your head, careful not to make a mess out of your meticulously styled hair. "But... I want to believe that there is going to be many more moments like this for us to come. Moments when we get to be together... like this. You have no idea for how long I've dreamt of experiencing something like this with you, Y/N."

Your heart fluttered at his sweet words. The notion of him fantasizing about the same exact thing as you made the tips of your fingers tremble with overwhelming joy. Though, you didn't want to overwhelm him... And, it would be weird for you to confess to something like this so soon. That's what you assumed, at any rate. Instead, you simply hummed in appreciation, leaning into his delicate touch to show that you were flattered by his words. "Well... In that case, I hope I can help more of your dreams come true. Seeing you so happy today is definitely the best part of the night for me... Regardless what the Savior has planned for us next."

Before you heard a reply, there was a brief pause. Perhaps, you shouldn't have mentioned his Savior in such a bold way... After all, it was a figure he respected faithfully. Before you could come up with a quick excuse, your eyes were wide open to the unmistakable warm sensation of his lips touching your forehead for a short magical moment. A silent gasp was all that escaped you, as you stood there, frozen, and too afraid to make one wrong move and push him away accidentally.

"I know I shouldn't think like this... But, your words just made me the happiest I have ever felt, my precious tester. With you by my side supporting me like this... I'm sure I can do anything."

His warm breath tickled your skin as he whispered his next hushed words into your ear, keeping them hidden from anyone around you, and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine.

[stromuprisahat]

why do so many of Yennefer’s outfits that I’ve seen (including her bra) look modern? Wouldn’t she be wearing something else?

They can't stick to monochromatic colour scheme- considering various options regarding cuts, layers or structure the history of clothing offers, would be way too much!

So yes, her clothes looks either like something my grandma would wear, or rags they scavenged on a raid on local trift store. I don't know where the budget went, but it sure as fuck wasn't Yennefer's wardrobe.

I hate you anon, btw. Now I have to go through all of that to see how superficial my impression is... although I'll only do first five episodes, considering when did the ask arrive (and my mental health).

That fucking purple cloak. Or another one, it doesn't matter. Either way TWN world apparently works in completely different way if purple isn't both conspicuous and expensive. Probably why we saw so much of it on average peasants in previous two seasons...

The broke nerd all class makes fun of (Are those platform shoes?!) or local goth witch high schooler, who's probably gonna lecture you on energies and angels? From up close my guess would be a bit older- that's some 20-ish teacher fresh from uni, trying to look respectable. My grandma would like the blouse very much. It's exactly her style.

This looks like vaguely "historical" cosplay you can find in trift stores or even your own wardrobe. It's also good to know average sorceress on the run can still get her mani-pedi comparable with present-day treatment.

Sorry for the quality, the lighting isn't very good and I'm not in mood to spend even a little more time on this, but this dress looks A LOT like the one from 01×05. So does the mask. (Budget cuts? Lack of creativity? Yennefer saving it for some twenty years in case she'd need to make Geralt feel nostalgic?)

Strong businesswoman jacket or What you want to wear to impress your peers and make them agree with you!

Some sort of nightgown? Sexy lingerie straight from the catalogue?

And we got to my "favourite"!

What the fuck is this rag? It looks like somethig Yen used to wipe the floor with, then proceeded to tie a knot or two and ta-daaa! Comfortable dress for every occasion's here! A ball or leisure? It's prefect for anything! (Unless you possess fashion sense, or gods-forbid sense of aesthetics.)

IS THAT A FUCING BRA?!

Couldn't they at least pretend to try?!

I guess Netflix couldn't afford seamstresses, so their brilliant costume designer decided to lend them something of her own.

This isn't even attempt at vaguely historical fantasy. Just some ugly loose whatever... Yen's tops, Yen's shoes... It certainly doesn't look like she's wearing stays EVER.

Compare with my favourite historically totally innacurate series: