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cheeriecherry · 4 years

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Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [7/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 7/9

Warnings: badly written smut, my kinks are showing, very (very) light degradation, blowjobs, squirting. It’s porn, my dudes

When Shouta and Hizashi get home, you’re on the couch going over the ambush plans for Akuma. Hearing their heavy footsteps, you set the small stack of papers down on the coffee table, and turn towards them as they saunter into the room.

They both look exhausted and slightly downtrodden, showing it in their own ways. Shouta looks like he’s about to fall asleep standing up, and Hizashi is practically drooping.

“How were your days?” you ask sympathetically, already knowing that the afternoon had given them a rough go of it.

“Tedious,” Shouta replies, kicking off his boots and shoving them too-harshly aside.

Hizashi does the same, and comes over to flop on the couch beside you. “I hate to say it, but yeah. Sho, it’s a nightmare to teach your kids English.”

You smile fondly when he crawls closer and plops his head in your lap, silently demanding attention. You happily give it to him.

“That’s too bad,” you tell them, letting a hint of mischief creep into your tone. “I had a surprise for both of you, but now I think you might not be in the mood…”

Regardless of their varying states of exhaustion, your words catch their attention. Hizashi perks up slightly, glancing around the room to see if anything has changed, and Shouta raises a brow at you in question.

“Now I’m curious, sweetheart,” the blond says, sitting up so he can toss an arm over your shoulders and lean against you, “what do you have planned?”

You can barely contain the smirk that fights to show itself.

“Well,” you begin, popping off the top button of your blouse, “I went to the mall today, no panic attacks this time.”

You shove off the couch and finish with the buttons, leaving Hizashi to fall sideways as he watches you with interest. You shrug your shirt off and toss it aside, and move to the tops of your pants.

“I thought I deserved a treat for it, so I figured I’d get something we could all enjoy.” You teasingly pull your leggings down, giving both your boyfriends a nice view of your butt in the new panties you’d bought.

Once you’re in nothing but the lacy set, you lean coyly against the doorframe leading out of the room. “What do you think?”

They both ogle you without shame, a light dusting of pink coming to warm their faces.

“I’d consider that a mood lifter,” Shouta says quietly, while Hizashi nearly falls off the couch in an attempt to get over to you. He catches his footing after a second, and comes to a full stop once he’s nearly pressed against you.

“God, sweetheart, look at you.” He trails his fingertips over the delicate lace you wear, making sure to ‘slip up’ occasionally and touch your skin as well. The way he looks at you bring sparks of warmth to your core, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

His lips are on yours shortly after, desperate and lustful as his hands continue to roam across your body, and it only takes a moment for a second pair to join.

Shouta mouths at your neck and shoulders, solid body taking up space behind you, while his hands sneak across your hips and beneath the elastic of your underwear. He doesn’t push them down, not yet, too keen on teasing you for a while.

You try to stifle the moans you make from their delicious touches, but Hizashi lays a sharp bite to your bottom lip. “None of that, sweetheart,” he says, dropping to his knees in front of you. “I wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

Shouta pushes your panties down a little more, but Hizashi clearly doesn’t feel like waiting. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to bury my face in this sweet pussy.” He makes quick work of your underwear, tossing them aside once you step out of them, and wastes no time in kissing the top of your mound. “Can I, gorgeous? I wanna taste you so bad~”

You whine quietly when Shouta plucks and pinches at your breasts through the soft fabric of your bra, and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your throat. “Use your words, kitten. Tell us what you want.”

I shiver travels down your spine, and you lean a little heavier into Shouta. “I...I want your mouth, ‘Zashi. And then…”

“And then?”

You cry out when his tongue licks a flat stripe up your folds.

“A-and then I want you to stuff me full. One at a time, both at once, I don’t care! I want you to fuck me until I scream- oh god!”

Hizashi hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, and dives into you like you’re his last meal. You’re already soaked, you know it, but his tongue glides over you effortlessly, dipping into your drenched hole, circling over your clit with precision.

Behind you, Shouta fiddles with the clasp of your bra and unhooks it with ease. He slides it down your arms and drops it to the side with your abandoned panties, then turns his sights back to your breasts. Soft and warm in his hands, he catches your nipples in between his fingers and pinches, earning a delighted cry from you.

“Shit,” the man in between your legs hisses, and you glance down at him. You withhold a satisfied grin when you see him palming himself through his jeans, though it would have faded anyways when he sucks particularly hard on your clit.

You blindly reach back to tend to Shouta’s need, which you can feel pressing into your hip, but he catches your wrist and holds you still.

“Soon, kitten,” he promises. “I want to see you come first, understood? See the mess you make.”

Hizashi slips two fingers into your aching pussy, and slowly curls them inside you, earning another slew of desperate noises from you. Shouta smirks against your shoulder, and peers down at your shared partner.

“Listen to that, you’re soaked, huh? ‘Zashi loves it when things get sloppy, you know? And he’s so good at it. Are you gonna be good for us, kitty? Get his fingers and face nice and wet?”

You clench at his words, low timbre sending arousal soaring through your body. The room is quiet, save for your moans and cries, and the sounds of Hizashi’s fingers fucking you in earnest. His pace has gone from slow and sweet, to blinding, and you can feel your orgasm beginning to coil up.

“Listen to that, eh?” the blond says, his mouth leaving your for a moment while he works your pussy with his fingers. “She’s gushing over my fingers already, and she hasn’t even come yet. Think I could get her to squirt?”

Your retort is lost in translation, words turning into incoherent and lust-filled babbles.

“How about it, kitten?” Shouta rumbles low in your ear, “Will you do what he says, and squirt all over the place?”

You nod desperately, rolling your hips in time with Hizashi’s fingers. “I wanna...wanna be good for -fuck- you! Be all wet and loose and ready for your cocks-”

Your words trail off into a broken moan as his fingers curl mercilessly inside you. All it takes is a couple flicks of his tongue over your clit, and you’re coming undone. Your legs nearly give out from under you as your orgasm washes over you, and Hizashi relentlessly continues to pump his digits into you, prolonging your pleasure and making an even bigger mess.

You eventually have to squirm away from him, overstimulated and trembling. You’re lucky Shouta stayed behind you the whole time, with his arms wrapped around your waist. You’re certain you wouldn’t be able to stand if he wasn’t there.

“Holy shit-” you whine, breathless and blissed out. You’re about to make a quip about Hizashi’s state, the dampness on his chin or the obvious outline of his cock in his jeans, but Shouta scoops you up and carries you away before you can get a word out.

You’re tossed unceremoniously onto the bed, and you watch lecherously as he yanks his clothes off, tossing them in the vague direction of the hamper. Hizashi comes into the room a few seconds later, already divest of his shirt and working on his pants.

They tease each other with small touches and lingering kisses, and you can’t help but ogle them. Though they were lean beneath their clothes, both their bodies held strength only acquired through discipline and training. Both of them had scars across their skin, some of which you don’t remember ever seeing, but you’d have to ask them about them later.

For now, you reach out towards the nearest boyfriend -which happens to be Hizashi- and pull him closer to you by the hips. You waste no time gripping his leaking cock by the base, running the flat of your tongue up the veiny underside.

He hums in appreciation, one of his hands coming to rest on your head. He doesn’t pull your hair, or push you to swallow him down, but the suggestion is there and it’s what spurs you on.

The bed dips beside you, and Shouta comes to rest at your side, letting his chin lay on your shoulder to watch as you lick and suck at your boyfriends’ cock. His hands roam across your bared skin, rubbing gentle circles into your lower back and the tops of your thighs.

He presses a few open mouthed kisses to your bare skin, and dips a hand between your legs. Deft fingers slide along your dripping slit,collecting the wetness before sliding inside. You choke momentarily around Hizashi at the feeling of two digits pressed firmly into you, and neither you nor Shouta miss the desperate whine that escapes the blond’s mouth.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for that,” Shouta teases, only causing Hizashi to blush a darker shade of red.

“Don’t be mean,” he complains, hand tightening just a fraction in your hair. “If it was your cock down her throat, you’d be exactly the same.”

Shouta hums low in his chest, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You take a moment to pull off Hizashi’s length completely and take a breath, continuing to pump him with your hand.

“I’d be content to finish you off like this,” you tell him, tongue peeking out the lap at the head of his cock, “but I’ve got a better idea.”

Both men regard you with curiosity. You release Hizashi and gently nudge Shouta away, rearranging yourself on the bed so you’re on your hands and knees. From this angle, Hizashi has a clear path to slide his cock down your throat, and Shouta has easy access to your bared pussy.

You wriggle your hips a little, shooting the latter a seductive glance. “What are you waiting for?” you ask coyly. “Fuck me~”

You turn your attention back to Hizashi, parting your lips to let him slip back into your mouth. His hand finds purchase on your head again, this time fully gripping your hair to hold you in place. He bucks into you, keeping his pace slow and shallow for the meantime.

Shouta takes his place behind you, and glides the tip of his cock over your slick folds. “You’re dripping everywhere,” he mumbles, more to himself than anyone else, ‘You could probably take me in one go.”

He lines up with your entrance, pushing ever so slightly against you, but never hard enough to enter. He does it two, three, four times, enough to make you whimper and tremble with anticipation.

“Aw, Sho, don’t tease her so much!” Hizashi chides, but you can tell he’s enjoying it as much as your boyfriend is.

“She’ll get her fill once your cock is down her throat again,” Shouta says, left hand trailing downwards to grope at your ass. “I want to see you fuck her face until she chokes, got it?”

The blond twitches in your mouth, and tugs your head up so he can see your face. “You want that, sweetheart? You want me to use your mouth like a nice little toy?”

You nod around him, and do your best to relax. His thrusts deepen bit by bit, pressing further into your wet cavern, until he eventually touches the back of your throat and pushes on. You try not to gag at the sensation, and with a couple swallows to pull him in, the task becomes easier.

It’s then that Shouta decides to reward you, finally sliding his cock into your aching pussy. He stretches you wide, far wider than any of his fingers had been, and keeps pushing into you until he bottoms out.

But he’s only still for a moment before he pulls out and thrusts back in. He holds tightly onto your hips as he fucks you with rough abandon, pistoning quickly into your wet cunt. You keen around Hizashi at the sudden sensation, arms trembling as you try to hold yourself up.

“Fuck~” He bucks a little quicker into your mouth, grip tightening on your hair. “God Sho, if he mouth feels this good, I can only imagine what her pussy feels like!”

“If you’re a good boy and come down her throat, I’ll let you have her next round.”

You clench at the thought, a familiar warmth beginning to coil in your lower belly.

A harsh slap to your ass jars you out of your thoughts, and earns Shouta a startled moan.

“Slut,” he says lowly, changing the angle of his thrusts to rub the tip of his cock against your g-spot. “You’re already stuffed full and you’re thinking about another cock?” He lands another couple smacks to your rear, before massaging the tender flesh.

Above you, Hizashi’s pace stutters. “Fuck, I’m gonna come already-”

“Be a good girl,” Shouta tells you, punctuating his words with a couple more slaps, “and swallow everything he gives you. Don’t waste a drop.”

Your entire body is shaking from the overload of pleasure, but you muster the strength to hollow out your cheeks and give Hizashi a particularly hard suck. After that, it’s only seconds before he’s spilling himself down your throat with a strangled moan. You do as you’re told, and make sure none of it drips past your lips.

His hand falls from your hair and down to your jaw, cupping your face gently as he slides out and allows you to swallow. You gasp a little, noting the slight cramp in your neck, but peek up at him with a smile.

He leans down and meshes your lips together, not caring in the slightest that his dick had literally just been there. He kisses you sweetly several times, before pulling away and flopping on the bed beside you with a blissed out sigh.

Shouta’s thrusts have slowed down considerably, swapping speed for precision. Every time your hips meet his cock drags against your sweet spot, and he’s quick to reduce you to a whining mess.

“Listen to her,” Hizashi coos from beside you, still slightly out of breath, “I think she’s even wetter than before. I can hear how sloppy her little cunt is.”

His pace picks up again, as do your wanton cries. Hizashi reaches over to rub quick circles against your clit, and you tighten like a vice around Shouta.

“Shit!” he grunts, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “That’s good, kitten~ Come all over my cock like the messy little slut you are!”

He’s beginning to lose his rhythm, but you hardly notice as you tumble over the edge once again, nearly screaming as your fluids coat his length and squirt out of your pussy.

He relentlessly fucks you through your orgasm, his own moans picking up in volume. “Gonna stuff this sweet cunt so full- fuck!”

“Yeah, fill me up Shouta~” you roll your hips back to meet his thrusts, egging him on. “Come for me. Give me everything you’ve got, until I can’t take any more~”

He tenses up and comes to a halt, grinding against you slowly as he spills into you. You shudder and shake beneath him, unable to stop the tremor down your spine at the feeling of being so full. Almost too full, his come leaking out of your cunt.

He slowly pulls out of you, leaning back on his haunches while he catches his breath. His hand never leaves your body, stroking over your sides and lower back. You tentatively come to sit up, still weak from your orgasm, and lean over just enough to steal a kiss from him.

“I think that’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” you sigh, breaking off into quiet laughter.

Your boyfriends join you, and the three of you remain cheerful and lighthearted while you wander around to clean yourselves up and gather whatever clothes had been disregarded around the house. You leave most of the work to them, though, opting to crawl into bed after tidying yourself up.

It doesn’t take long for them to join you, finding places on either side of you, whispering quiet words of love and praise as you drift into sleep.

#erasermic x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #eraserhead x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #Space Between

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lamaisongaga · 3 years

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FASHION CREDITS: “HOUSE OF GUCCI” PART II

During the first part of our “House of Gucci” fashion breakdown, we took a look at the style of the young Patrizia Reggiani. Let’s talk about the post-marriage looks!

Costume design by Janty Yates, respectively.

Patrizia and Maurizio got invited to Aldo Gucci’s birthday party while doing some laundry.

Gaga looked like a true house wife in this Falconeri ultralight cashmere V-neck sweater in “Tea Rose” with dropped shoulders and V-neckline at the back too. She matched it with a pair of boyfriend jeans by Dixie.

The black suede peep-toe mules with silver-tone studs embellishment are the Wish by Aquazzura!

The socialite arrived to Aldo’s residence dressed in a bespoke Dominic Young white lace appliqué strapless dress and matching jacket which she paired with Pikkio jewelry, an Eirini chain...

...and this ZARA black velvet-lined belt with gold-tone oval buckle!

Later that night, Patrizia discovers Pina Auriemma on TV while stuffing herself with some gelato in this La Perla “Maison” collection long white silk robe with signature frastaglio embroidered lace motifs on a tulle background.

The probably most prominent look of the entire film includes a vintage Laflamme pastel mink fur coat which hides this fabulous Dominic Young red wool wrap dress with decorative gold buttons, V-neck and asymmetrical pocket.

The oversized retro-inspired black resin sunglasses with decorative sides in gold are the ES 057/S by Elie Saab!

Gaga also wore vintage Pikkio jewelry, a vintage 1980s Gucci gold-tone brass and mother of pearl oval watch with crystals...

...and these Aquazzura Savoy red suede leather pumps with nude mesh insets.

For Aldo's birthday bash, Patrizia wore a stunning Valentino Pre-Fall 2021 "San Gallo Edition" blue cotton poplin shirtdress with broderie anglaise and tie waist.

She matched it with a vintage Greek key brown leather belt from Pikkio, this vintage Gucci clutch in brown crocodile leather with gold-tone hardware, and POMPEI tall boots.

Patrizia and Maurizio arrived at their new New York City apartment where she wore this Dominic Young long-sleeved, glittery black dress with square V-cut-out neck and pencil skirt!

Iconic Spanish shoe designer Manolo Blahnik provided the majority of Gaga’s footwear, including the BB black suede pumps which she wore a lot!

Tailor Dominic Young also worked his magic on this white, grey & black leopard-printed polyester midi dress with long sleeves and scarf neck.

She combined the look with vintage Missoni M188 sunglasses,...

...vintage huge gold metal basket weave earrings, a Pikkio brooch and purse,...

...this vintage elastic crocodile-embossed leather belt, Calvin Klein padded bra, spanx by Miraclesuit, tights by Wolford, and the aforementioned Manolo Blahnik pumps.

In the NYC Gucci boutique, Patrizia got herself a new skirt suit in white snakeskin with gold textured buttons and asymmetrically folded waist detail.

While this piece was fictionally labeled as Gucci, it's actually another Janty Yates idea which was then turned into reality by Dominic Young. It was adorned with a Pikkio brooch in gold.

French jeweller Boucheron was another major brand that provided some amazing pieces for Gaga to wear during the movie.

In this scene, she sported the Vendôme Chromatique necklace pavéd with yellow sapphires, agates, and mother-of-pearl...

...and the ultra adorable Fuzzy leopard cat ring with 401 champagne round diamonds.

Aldo then proceeds to gift her this Gucci Sylvie 1969 black patent crocodile leather mini top handle bag with gold-tone chain detail.

These Aquazzura Satine snake-effect leather and taupe suede pumps are such a neat tie-in to the suit, aren’t they?

While having dinner with Aldo and Maurizio in NYC, Patrizia wore this uuultraaaa sexy custom Dominic Young plunging white long dress, showered in faux pearls.

All of the jewelry in this scene was provided, again, by Boucheron! Gaga layered the Serpent Bohème 31 motif yellow-gold and diamond necklace with the Pompon pink-gold lariat necklace with pavé-set diamond tassels.

On her wrists we can spot the Serpent Bohème Pompon bracelet with diamonds and yellow-gold, and the Quatre Classique bracelet with diamonds, white-gold, yellow-gold, pink-gold and graphic brown PVD.

On her fingers: Cypris swan diamonds and rubies ring, Meisa chickadee ring with diamonds, sapphires and tanzanites, and Yaroslov mother-of-pearl and diamond ring inspired from the majestic, graphic architecture of Russia's old imperial cities and their splendid kokoshnik roofs.

We couldn’t properly see it, but resting infront of her was this Gucci black suede rectangular clutch with gold metal logo on top!

The look was finished with these Manolo Blahnik Seneca white satin criss-cross pumps with decorative crystal-embellished buckle!

Let’s get to the two unseen looks! For one of the scenes, Gaga slipped into a custom Dominic Young leopard-printed jersey V-neck dress with peplum waist and concealed zipper sleeves.

She also wore Boucheron’s Jack de Boucheron triple wrap necklace and matching bracelet in yellow-gold with graphic pavé diamond clasps.

For the unseen Studio 54 scene, Patrizia wore this custom Dominic Young aquamarine sequinned halterneck gown!

The look was paired with a pair of crystal chandelier statement earrings from Italian jewelry label Cristallonero’s “Empire” collection...

...and a ton of Pikkio jewelry including this pearl and gold snake chain lariat necklace...

...and this statement gold metal cage cuff she wore on her left wrist.

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you-show-me-love · 3 years

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Flysta

Gallavich One Shot

Summary: Ian and Mickey assemble IKEA furniture. It goes as well as you think.

My first venture into Gallavich fanfiction. Enjoy!

"Fuck that place man, I'd rather go back to prison than step into that Swedish Shithole ever again."

Ian stared at the back of his husband's neck, which had been tinged red with rage since this morning. If there wasn't a couple feet of unassembled furniture between them he would have kissed the flushed skin.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad." Ian countered, trying to mollify Mickey's quick temper. Mickey turned his head and Ian caught sight of the raised eyebrow that indicated his husband deemed what he said to be the most stupid fucking thing he'd ever heard.

"Motherfucker." Mickey said it as if it was a codeword to a top secret tirade Ian should understand. Ian only smiled and kept the long boxes stable as Mickey climbed the stairs up to their apartment.

"We were in there for three fuckin hours. And you didn't even let me swipe some meatballs!"

"She was a kid-"

"She had like twenty fucking meatballs Ian she wouldn't have missed a few!"

A curious head popped out from behind a door near the stairwell and upon seeing her loud Southside neighbors, rolled her eyes and pulled her head back into her own apartment. Ian held his breath for a split second, but Mickey hadn't noticed the brief audience. If he had Ian would probably have to talk to the building manager...again.

"Between what Kev and V let us take and this shelf we should have no reason to go back there ever again."

"Good. Fuck IKEA."

Arriving at their front door Mickey set down his side of the box and raised his middle finger at the offensive furniture, then put that same middle finger right in Ian'a face.

"And fuck you for forcing me to drive an hour to fucking Schaumburg."

Mickey was only getting louder and while Ian liked him loud and mouthy their neighbors didn't seem to enjoy it as much.

"Alright you big baby, let's get this inside."

Mickey unlocked the front door and picked up his end of the box, backing up and leading Ian into their living room space. It was looking better in here, more full. Kev and V were willing to part with a dresser and most of their kitchen. The crib flashed in Ian's mind for a moment. He hoped Lip remembered to pick it up and take it with him to Tami's parent's place. If Lip doesn't make use of it with his potential second kid maybe Mickey will come around it.

But that's definitely not a conversation for today.

"Why couldn't we just buy one already built?" Mickey asked, pulling a pocket knife out of his sock and stabbing it into the crease of cardboard, slicing cleanly through the tape holding the box together.

"Fuck if I know. Would probably cost more."

Ian pulled out big white slabs of wood along with little baggies of connecting pieces. Mickey grabbed the instructions and flipped through the thin pages making a sound of intrigue and biting his lip.

Ian wondered if the back of his neck was still red, if he could still feel the heat of if he pressed his lips just above Mickey's collar.

"Its just pictures."

Ian, having finished removed the pieces of the shelf from the box, stood and smiled teasingly.

"Wow so even you can read it."

"Fuck you smartass." Mickey drawled, eyes dancing over the instructions. Ian came around behind his grumpy husband to find his neck holding a pink-ish hue and he finally got to plant a kiss on it before he hooked his chin over Mickey's shoulder and stared down at the rudimentary drawings. He only absorbed one or two images before Mickey tossed the instructions across the room.

"Alright lets get building bitch."

Mickey was writhing under a strong ginger body, panting heavily against the hand over his mouth. Ian pressed his chest against his husband more forcefully.

"Baby-"

A fist appeared in Ian's peripheral and he managed to pin it down before it collided with his temple. He grunted and wrapped his legs tighter over Mickey's legs, knowing those strong thighs could unseat him if Mickey got smart. Ian's palm was wet with condinced breath and spit as Mickey unleashed his verbal fury into it.

"Mickey, we need to keep it down. Can you just calm down please?"

Mickey, having tossed the instructions aside and just started putting shit together, had cracked a board in half trying to force it into place. The temper tantrum that ensued had Ian fearing to find the police knocking at their door. Mickey could have gotten away with the outburst in the Southside, but on the Westside they were likely to find themselves in violation of their parole any minute.

His husband's burning blue eyes dimmed with resignation and, after a moment of hesitation, he pulled his hand away. Ian stared into those eyes, running his thumb across Mickey's cheek, feeling his jaw go slack under his palm at the gentle soothing motion. Unable to resist the slight part in Mickey's lips Ian leaned in for a kiss that Mickey begrudgingly returned. When they parted Mickey's eyes were rimmed red and watery making Ian's heart ache.

Abruptly the smaller man was pushing Ian off of him and standing, Ian following half a beat behind. He tried to make eye contact but Mickey kept his head down as he collected his jacket and boots.

"Mickey." Ian tried, knowing already it wouldn't keep Mickey here with him. He watched Mickey walk out the front door.

The sound of pulling tape roused Ian from sleep. He turned over to find the space next to him in bed as empty as it had been when he laid down. With a groan he rose from the mattress on the floor and walked down the short hallway into the living room where he found Mickey wrapping a roll of duct tape around the piece he had broken hours ago.

"Hey." He offered quietly, a tentative olive branch in the wake of heightened emotions.

"Hey sugartits. Good job on this." Mickey tilted his head toward the completed shelf, which wasn't that hard to assemble once Ian followed the directions. It was only missing the shelf Mickey broke, the shelf Mickey was now mending with duct tape, with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Ian watched Mickey rip the tape off the role, sealing the break as best as he could. Gingerly he placed it into the frame where it instantly began to bow in the middle. The shelf wouldn't be able to hold any weight, but Ian's chest swelled with pride at their finished project and the smile his husband was sending his way.

"Come here."

Mickey's long strides had him in Ian's arms in no time, head cradled in splayed fingers and smiling lips brushing together.

"I think my handyman deserves a handy for all that good work he did." Mickey teased, fingers dipping into the elastic band of Ian's boxers.

"Fuck yeah he does."

The broken shelf was in two again by the next morning, but neither man could be bothered by the imperfection. They made use of what they had built together, imperfections and all.

Also on Ao3!

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #gallavich fanfic #ian x mickey #fanfiction #ao3

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e-milieeee · 4 years

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four ways to say i love you

Summary: It’s the little things—such as waking up at five in the morning to cook for him or lending her a coat when she’s cold—that mean the world.

Because Marinette loves her partner very, very much, and she’s so lucky that he feels the same.

Notes: I was initially going to do one side of the lovesquare, but all sides are equal and therefore have all four sides in this oneshot :) Post reveal, established relationship. A commissioned piece for @mlbforblm—there’s plenty of talented artists and writers who still have slots, so make sure to commission!

Or read on AO3

Adrien is brushing his teeth when Ladybug comes crashing through his window.

He’s a little later than usual today, still decked in his Ladybug pajamas that he’s so unashamedly proud of. He has tied his bangs back with an elastic band, and it sits like a little tree on top of his head, water still dripping from his face.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be ready to eat breakfast,” she tsks playfully.

He grins back. “Sorry, M’lady. Plagg turned my alarm off.”

His smile is, as usual, contagious and in a way that can’t help but to smile back. Ladybug returns to his room and takes out the box from her bag, where she’d painstakingly prepared breakfast for him at the expense of a shattered bowl and spilled jug of milk. It’s still warm to the touch, thankfully, and her slightly rough landing in his room hadn’t messed it up too much.

Adrien joins her a couple minutes later. He has taken the hair tie out, but his bangs fall softly over his eyes like it does when he’s Chat Noir, and Ladybug wants to run her hands over it so to feel just how soft it is. She refrains herself, though, as they both settle cross-legged on the ground where she has laid their breakfast out.

His mouth drops open. “Wow,” Adrien marvels. “When you said you were going to make a feast, I thought you’d fry an egg or two and slap it between some bread and that would’ve been it. This is… can you describe food as gorgeous? Because this is gorgeous.”

“Just because that’s the only thing you can cook doesn’t mean it’s all I’m capable of,” she sniffs, but underneath, Ladybug preens at the compliment.

It’d taken a lot of effort, and Ladybug had collected the ingredients the day before and planned every single detail before going to bed. Then, at five in the morning, she dragged herself out of bed looking and feeling like a zombie just to prepare it.

There are four egg rolls drizzled with homemade sauce, then sprinkled with dried seaweed and sesame. Next to that are neat cuts of green onion cake, made from absolute scratch (she burned herself in the process of deep-frying them). Inside the longest container are fried fish, the ones her mother had prepared the night before. Finally, the leftover mooncakes from the Lunar Festival are in the little box, tied with a red bow. Marinette had spent careful care on that one.

“Miso soup,” Ladybug tells him as she hands him the thermos. “Uh… I think I added too much paste and it’s too salty, so you might not want to drink that one. And…” She opens the last box, where a variety of fresh-cut fruit awaits. “For health reasons, there are fruits. Oh! Also a cheese platter for Plagg, but he’s still asleep, so he can have it later.”

Adrien is positively beaming when she unpacks everything. “You’re the absolute best,” he gushes.

“Couldn’t have you starving on your diet, right?” The nonchalant act can only go so far when she’s grinning so wide. “I’m just hoping it tastes as good as it looks.”

“It’ll taste good just because you made it.” He throws her an exaggerated wink, then immediately reaches for his chopsticks to dig in.

Ladybug watches him take a bite out of green onion cake. He chews, swallows, eyes lighting up. “This is amazing, and I promise I’m not just saying that because my diet’s forced me to eat boiled chicken breasts with no seasoning of the past week.”

She giggles. “Just let me know when you want me to bring you breakfast.”

He places a hand on his chest. “I can’t believe Ladybug’s my personal delivery girl. Do you offer lunch services as well?”

“Only for you, kitty.”

His grin is worth getting up for at 5am.

***

Marinette is freezing at lunch break, but they’ve agreed to eat outside, so she sucks it up. At least the lunch she’d packed for her and Adrien is warm.

It’s late autumn now, and the last couple of leaves cling to otherwise bare trees. She regrets the outfit she picked—cute, but not practical. Especially not in this weather. Looking at Alya bundled up in a hoodie and combat boots, Marinette really regrets the dress.

The noodles in the thermoses are slightly soggy, but the flavour is still there. They chat for a while—about upcoming tests, about projects and the end-of-the-year field trip that is still months away, and everything is lovely. Lovely, but cold.

Halfway through, her noodles emptied, Adrien notices her shivering. “Are you cold?” he asks, eyes growing wide in concern.

Alya halts her conversation with Nino as well. “Wait, Adrien’s right, you’re wearing a dress. I’m chilly and I have a sweater on.”

Marinette, who has refrained from speaking for the past couple of minutes in fear of her teeth chattering too loudly, manages to shake her head.

She gets a scrutinizing look-over by Adrien before he makes his verdict. “This isn’t going to do,” he declares firmly. Then, with one fluid movement, he shrugs his own sweater off and drapes it over her shoulders.

“Oh, he’s smooth,” Alya remarks with a wicked grin.

Smooth, indeed. The jacket is wonderfully warm, and, with a content sigh, Marinette slides her arms through the sleeves. There’s also the faint smell of his cologne and it’s so very him that she can’t help the smile that crosses her face.

He opens an arm in a beckoning gesture and Marinette happily settles into his embrace.

***

Because of his father’s strict rules, it’s much easier for Adrien to come by as Chat Noir after school, which he does almost everyday. Sometimes it’s between his schedules, sometimes it’s after, late into the night when both his father and Nathalie believe he’s asleep. Marinette always listens for the thump on the skylight, an indication that he’s there. The trap door is always left unlocked for him, so she only needs to wait as he climbs down the ladder.

It’s nearing nine when he comes this time. She sits at her desk finishing up the rest of the notes when the door creaks open and Chat Noir climbs down.

“Evening,” he greets. “What—ooh, you brought croissants for me.”

He zeroes in immediately on the food that Marinette had, admittedly, prepared for him. Between Adrien’s schedule and that godawful diet his father insisted putting him on and his time sprinting across rooftops and fighting akumas, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t fainted from lack of nutrition. Marinette has made it her personal goal to make sure he’s properly fed, and she ensures there’s a snack waiting for him every time he drops by.

Half a minute later, he’s munching enthusiastically on the food and Marinette can no longer focus on the rest of her notes. She sorts them out—there’s at least four pages that she’d copied in her neatest handwriting—and then hands them to Chat.

“Here,” she tells him. “You missed both physics and mathematics today because of the photoshoot, so I copied the notes from class and re-organized them. I also added a review section from last class so it’s easier to figure out just where we are since the two lessons are connected. And…” She shuffles through her desk once more, producing the textbook. “It’s on page one hundred and twenty seven to one hundred and twenty nine, if my notes don’t make sense. You can study here, if you’d like. My parents won’t be coming back up anyway, so we should be left alone for now.”

The last time her mother had walked in on her and Chat doing homework together, she’d been understanding. Understanding, but skeptical. It had been awfully hard to explain why Paris’ superhero was lounging in her room like he lived there—and much harder more awkward to explain that Adrien was one hundred supportive of her friendship with Chat after her father had become defensive that he had ulterior motives.

Chat takes the papers from her. “You’re absolutely unbelievable,” he tells her, eyes shining in a way only his can. “Seriously, Marinette, have I ever told you?”

She pretends to count on her fingers. “Let’s see… only about six times today. Why? He shakes his head, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. In one fluid movement, he leans down to pluck the textbook from her hands and plants a quick kiss against her cheek in the process. “What would I do without you?”

“Go hungry, probably? Start lagging behind in all of your classes?” Marinette tsks at him. “God, you’re right. What would you do without me?”

Chat’s laugh is wonderful and full and happy. “Then aren’t I lucky to have you.”

***

The akuma strikes at midnight.

Marinette, about to change into her pajamas after just sending off Chat Noir, curses to herself. She’s tired and not in the mood to transform, but when Chat comes crashing back down from the skylight urgently, she knows she has no choice.

“Akuma!” he informs her, as if the tremors outside could be caused by anything else. “It’s close to here. We should be able to take this one quickly.”

“Why is Hawkmoth even awake?” Marinette grumbles, but transforms nonetheless. Chat waits patiently on the side, though he’s drawn taut, prepared to scramble into action the moment she’s ready. Then they’re climbing out of the skylight, into the light, where the akuma has begun its rampage. The once-quiet night is ripped apart with panic and terror.

The akuma is relatively easy to deal with: a little girl, apparently inspired by Frozen, is decked in full Elsa, wielding similar powers. She covers the streets in ice, a snowstorm whirling around her, as spirals of icy sculptures rise and fall.

Both she and Chat have icicles hanging off them by the time Ladybug purifies the akuma. Even after she releases the Miraculous Ladybug, the cold from the girl’s powers haven’t seeped out of her bones. Judging from Chat’s chattering teeth, he feels the same.

Despite her watch reading 12:32 and the next day hailing as a school day , they stop by at a 24-hour-cafe for hot chocolate. A couple minutes later, seated on the rooftops warming their chilled hands, they’re huddled against each other and staring out at the gleaming cityscape.

“Another successful take-down, m’lady?”

Ladybug laughs as he raises his cup for a toast, and she obliges and bumps her own against him. Hot chocolate sloshes over the lid, splashing onto her suit. She flicks it off. “What a team we make, huh? Now, if only Hawkmoth would get the memo and stop creating his akumas so late. Why is he even up now? Say, do you think he has a life outside of being Hawkmoth?”

“He probably wants to catch us off guard in the middle of the night. Remember that one time we got woken up at three because there was an akuma attack? Plagg wanted to tape my mouth shut so I couldn’t transform.”

Ladybug groans. “I did really bad on a test the next day because I got three and a half hours of sleep—I fell asleep halfway through the test! It’s— ugh. He’s so annoying.”

“There’s one good thing about midnight akumas, though,” Chat points out.

She takes a sip from the hot chocolate, which, during their conversation, has cooled down to just below scalding. “A good thing?” Ladybug echoes. “Name one good thing, chaton.”

He nudges her shoulder. “You, m’lady. It’s nice just being alone like this without anyone else, right?”

Then, like he’s said nothing out of the ordinary, Chat goes back to drinking his hot chocolate with infuriating nonchalance.

Ladybug finds herself smiling. “You know,” she tells Chat Noir. “You’re ridiculously good at this. Where do you even get the inspiration to say these things?”

“You.”

“You are completely overdoing it.”

“You love me, admit that.”

“No.”

“So you would get up at five in the morning to make breakfast for just anyone, Bugaboo?”

Ladybug relents. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Chat Noir’s laugh rings crystal clear throughout the night, loud against the crisp air. Ladybug wants to trap that laugh and hold it close to herself. She can’t help but treasure it, after all: it’s a sound that chases away worries, soothes fears, and she thinks she's so, so lucky to hear it everyday.

“I love you,” he tells her when his laughter dies down. “Don’t forget that, m’lady.”

Ladybug leans her head on her shoulder. “I love you too,” she replies quietly. “You better not forget it, either.”

Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist!

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette #marichat #ladrien #ladynoir #adrinette #fluff #post reveal #established relationship #mlbforblm #my writing #mlb fic

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fst-critique · 3 years

Text

Bottega Veneta Fall 2021 Ready to Wear

Since Phoebe Philo announced her return to fashion just a couple of months ago, the mob that considers the Britain to be the voice of the 21st-century contemporary woman has been quick to ridicule anyone whose style even slightly mirrors her clean lines and exceptional ethos. Daniel Lee- who studied under Philo during his Celine tenure- has unfairly been depicted as such a figure. Now heading Bottega Veneta’s ready-to-wear line for 3 years, Lee has all but proven his point of view is all his own. Outside of the similar sleek lines and muted color palette, the 31-year-old creative director is directing a movement away from stale luxury stereotypes and embracing the all but hidden weird and quirky side of fashion. Lee’s strengths- textile development, tactility, and color- abound in a manner that introduces a fresh perspective to a house built on leather while changing how luxury should be perceived going forward. This Fall collection- marking his 9th collection for the house- emphasizes craftsmanship above all. The hours of handiwork allude to a sense that upon our emergence from the pandemic, quality and intensive engineering will provide furtherance on sustainability and elasticity.

From the beginning, the garment's straight lines provided a seriousness that when distilled fully captured a militaristic uniformity. Timeless are these styles that have survived centuries. Look one, a military jacket belted at the waist, enthused a tonality of strength. Broad were the shoulders and the when styled with the woody’s-chic Lug Boot, resemble a former army general calling out drills to soldiers on a freezing terrain. The use of brown and other deep earth tones signaled a shift away from the bright colorways of seasons past. Spring 2021 used lively hues like “Green Screen Green” and “Ocean Blue” and were right for the moment, yet continuing to apply such noticeable and actionable colors may detract from the current statement. It is cliche to assume that any and every military-inspired collection must carry with it a fortitude of durability and aggression. However, the silhouettes, shapes, and colors used are in line with a 1990s Prada revision and do surrender to a mode of might that is not shy in the slightest. From the beginning looks an idea morphed into something almost unearthly. Like moss blooming from a tree after a cold winter, the garments military-based suddenly began to bloom. The “flower” in question- pink, red, and teal feathers. Accordingly, each garment has approximately 4,000 feathers embroidered atop the cotton medium. Original, thought-provoking, and surprising, such a risk contrasts any notion that Lee hides from a challenge. A pop of orange here and a fur collar there kept viewers engaged, though could have been passed upon for its normality. For a second we are brought down to earth by easily understood conventions, however, this comforting feeling would all but surrender for a glam-packed finale. The show-stopping moment of the ensemble arrived in a slew of evening dresses celebratory with dramatics and devastatingly opulent. A knit dress covered in glass paillettes featured the continuation of Lee's highlighting the hemline through the use of extended fabric and detailing. In this case, the eye is drawn to fashion's greatest enemy- the knee. Quick to move away from such a grotesque and controversial stance on womenswear, a number in red may very be the fashion favorite of the season. Gathered in the center seam by two parallel panels, the red draped strips of woven fabric fall in a manner so gracefully it draws an emotional response immediately upon first glance. Undoubtedly continuing his predecessor’s legacy, Lee’s informed decision to respect and grow from Tomas Maier’s elegant creations is a nice touch and adds a layer of sophistication to the house that has largely been absent since his departure.

Though Bottega Veneta does not hold a place in Paris’s haute couture schedule, perhaps this was Lee’s pitch to the Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode to give him and the 55-year old Milanese house a try. Splendid were the uniforms, and even more enticing was the efficiency in which the extremities unfolded as if they arrived from a dream. Daniel Lee is not Phoebe Philo, Philo is not Daniel Lee, ultimately fashion is better for it. Lee excels in his ability to envelop the mindset of the great fashion conceptualists Balenciaga, Margiela, and Yohji Yamamoto. Unrestrained and unabashedly himself, Daniel's tone this season rendered a liking to a three-dimensional masterpiece. The strategized fabric and involved construction prove conceptual clothing can and will serve a purpose in real life. Upon the arrival of the pieces that make it to the stores come January, one can only hope the world will continue in its recovery from the Covid-19 pandemic. While we wait, having such impactful, one-of-a-kind pieces will ensure some level of joyfulness will be present in the meantime.

#fultonstcritique #bottega veneta #daniel lee

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joannabethharvelle · 3 years

Text

[ @cullxtheherd ]

A few stray pebbles clatter down the sheer side of the crevasse, heavy boots finding a proper foothold as Hope County’s newest resident pauses to fashion a belay loop in her rope.

Fog creeps around the perimeter of the shield of her respirator mask and Jo lifts a hand, using one of the two offset filters as a handle in a vain attempt to reseal the mouthpiece around her chin.

“Dammit-- I knew I shoulda got a size smaller...”

Wiping at the sweaty strands of blonde currently in her way, she works to tug at both ends of the elastic band around the back of her neck. First one side and then the other, cinching down an already fully tightened strap in an action that did nothing that wasn’t psychosomatic.

Whatever. Pretending it helped with the condensation was better than nothing.

Her descent is slow and spanning several levels, and when she resumes it she is careful to watch her footing. This far down the air is thick with potent clouds of sickly green, looking far more ominous without the glittering edges that direct exposure provides.

A pebble clatters past her down the sheer side and Jo stops to listen-- hoping to hear it hit the ground to gain some semblance of where she currently is. Before she can find out, another pebble rolls past, and then another. There is an awful sound from up above her, a crack of metal on rock and a horrible bellow of a moan, a pained lament that instantly fills her with dread. The tension in her line suddenly wavers, causing a split second free fall that spikes her adrenaline. Jo is already fumbling for a grip on the rock before she casts a look up.

Two bald figures, clad in drab tan with faces covered by a mask brandishing a telltale red logo hover precariously on the edge of one of the outcroppings. One stands, unmoving and fixated, the other brandishes a garden hoe that he swings back in preparation for another blow.

“Hey-- Hey!” In the mask her voice is muffled and undoubtedly incapable of reaching any ears nearby. Even still, her voice pitches, her heart pounding in her throat. “What the fuck are you doing? Don’t--!”

Sharp metal cracks against the rock again, sending another collection of loose rubble tumbling down toward her. Her elevating breathing is already fogging her visor again, her useless attempts to dissuade them doing nothing to help that situation.

“Hey!! Knock it...”

“Off....”

Another sound that sparks recognition and turns her stomach creeps into auditory range, causing her to trail off. It starts quiet but rapidly grows in volume and--

Number? Another silhouette farther up is accompanied by several others, emerging from abandoned shafts and shadowed crags. The hollow sounds of the Angels fill the cavern and it’s suddenly very clear that while desolate, they all have a single common goal. Bloodied hands of the mindless humans grip at her rope; rusty weapons are taken to saw and hack at the fibers.

“Oh, shit.”

Without any sufficient hand or footholds she wastes no time and tries to rapidly descend, fingers fumbling at the quick brake mechanism due to her reduced vision. The line whips and cracks against the rock again and in her panic she stops to grab for something, anything---

Jo comes to with a start, the vicious headache that throbs behind her eyes rousing her from unconsciousness. She reaches up to grip at her mask, tearing it off in an impulsive attempt to get more air.

She is hit with a wall of nausea; blinding, shimmering flecks of glitter exploding across her vision. An overwhelming dizziness sending her reeling back, choking on thick green clouds and pawing for her respirator.

-----------------------------------------------------

The sun drops just over the first peak of the mountain, casting a golden glow into the crevasse. How long has it been? Definitely more than a day. Jo winces as she uses blistered hands to drag herself up to a semi seated position, slumping against the damp walls. Yeah. Gotta be something like that. How many times has it been dark? Is this twice, now?

Almost 48 hours, then.

The ruined rope had been abandoned long ago, proving useless in her slow crawl up to safety. Whatever semblance of safety this was anyway, battered and stranded in a crevice filled with hallucinogens.

Fortunately, at this level she can actually get a bit of air that isn’t toxically saturated with Bliss.

Unfortunately, she’s stuck here as far as she can tell. There are no more ledges for her to climb, at least nothing that is currently within reach. She’s surprised she’s made it this far; crawling through the cavern in search of shallow ledges, slowly making her way back up to the surface without the aid of a rope. Now though--

Now, she’s exhausted. Before she’s able to convince herself that it wouldn’t be all that bad to get a little shut eye, heavy footsteps stop her train of thought. A wavering, blinding light makes her squint and she has to lift a hand to block the rays in an attempt to see her guest.

She hears the gravelly voice that drawls behind the headlamp before she is able to fully make him out, the familiarity of the tones easily distinguishable even without the crackling of the radio to accompany them.

For once, his taunts aren’t met with any retorts other than a few labored sounds of distress, an off-handed eye roll at his threat to keep her still. When he stoops to root through his own pack, her tired eyes drift to her left toward the small pile of her belongings. Her pistol is there, of course, next to her backpack and conveniently just out of reach. Jo knows there is no way she can get her hand on it without a visible amount of effort so she makes no attempt, instead letting her head tip back, thumping lightly against the stone.

He works so quickly she isn’t able to stutter out very many protests or wonder for too long why he’s decided to help her. The generic explanation is accepted for now; she’s been in shock too long to question anything all that much.

It all goes by in a blur-- A bliss vile, leather between her teeth. Jacob’s unwavering voice and unyielding hands, calm even amongst her guttural shrieking that followed the setting of her bone. Her numb fingers fumbling for her belt and yanking it free, the excruciating pressure of the splint, the cold sweat that coated her skin.

She is vaguely aware of him joining her, stooping down to sit beside her just before her vision flattens. A radio crackles and her eyelids flutter closed, her willpower finally unable to stop the encroaching darkness that prickles the edge of her vision.

-----------------------------------------------------

The effects of the Bliss are still heavy in her brain when his movements finally cause her to stir again. Pain makes her a bit loopy, hands reaching out toward her rescuer with a detached sort of grasp at comfort. Her palms sting as she pats and clutches cotton, brow furrowing as her brain struggles to connect the dots of what is going on.

It isn’t until he speaks that she gives him a reactionary shove and recoils her hands, wincing when the motion causes the pain from her various ailments to roar to life. Biting down on her lip to stifle more whimpers of discomfort, she grits her teeth and tries to shift into a semi-comfortable position.

“Shit, sorry--” Its mumbled as she slumps back, sighing heavily as she does her best to clear her mind and get her shit together. She wasn’t able to stop the knee-jerk apology and so Jo feels the need to clarify, though she isn’t sure why.

“Seeing how you don’t like me...”

“Or whatever.”

His question should give her pause, but their current circumstances and her desire for some sort of goddamn distraction from her leg clouds her judgement. Up until now she’d been able to get away with the nickname. The locals were more than happy to call her Dep or Rook-- there was too much going on in Hope County to get upset about someone’s name. Or lack of it.

“You’re one of the only people that has actually asked me that.” She knows she sounds terrible; strained voice thin and trembling from the stress and strain of her current situation. Jo debates about lying, tossing out any old name and letting it ride.

“Beth.” Her middle name slips from her lips and before she’s even finished she wrinkles her nose, shaking her head with a short, bitter chuckle.

“No, it’s not. That’s a lie.” Her brow furrows and her eyes narrow with thought, the pain and hallucinogens causing her control of her facial expressions nowhere near her usual level. “Er.... Sort of.”

“What’s it even matter anyway? I’m just a tool, right?” Jo casts a look down at herself, shaking her head in disdain at her predicament. “A broken fuckin’ rusty one right now, but...” A single shoulder shrug accompanies a little downward crook of her mouth.

“Besides, my nickname is way too close to your brother’s for my liking.”

#jfdskjsadkfjsdakfsdakf #I went to post this and tuMBLR ATE IT???#i am sooso Fuckignsdf sorry i dont envenek know what happenednfd but an eterniigity later #heRE it isssah Words and STUFf?? YAY

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k-llama-llama · 5 years

Text

Movie Morning

TXT AU: 6th member

Sara x TXT

Sara makes plans for the group...which they kind of don’t know about.

A/N: Please check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive posts you can’t get anywhere else, as well as lots of other cool benefits!

Requests are closed, but your feedback is still greatly appreciated!

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

Sara finished laying out the pyjamas on the boys beds, beaming in satisfaction. They’d been out all day, at school and then they’d gone to an arcade. She’d gone out for coffee with Sumi, and then hurried home to finish her plan.

A few weeks ago, Kai had dropped a hint that he wanted to watch Christmas movies as a group. And when they’d told her that they’d all be back together at six o’clock today, Sara had set her plan in motion.

She’d bought them all matching Christmas onesies, ordered chicken (which she never let them do), made popcorn, and downloaded ten Christmas movies so they could pick which ones she wanted to watch.

She’d already pulled on her own onesie, and went and sat herself down on the couch. They should be home in about fifteen minutes, and she couldn’t wait to see their faces.

It wasn’t like Sara to plan a surprise. The boys would never say it to her face (well, maybe Yeonjun would), but she wasn’t exactly known for being the fun older sister. Even this morning, when they’d mentioned they were all going to an arcade, none of them had bothered to invite her.

She probably wouldn’t even have wanted to go. She didn’t like video games at all. But they’d all left with a short ‘we’ll see you tonight, noona’. No questions asked about if she wanted to join, or if she had her own plans, because she was boring, and would always just be at home waiting for them. It hadn’t hurt her, but it didn’t escape her notice how she was never really included in any fun plans.

Sara hugged her knees excitedly. Wait until they saw her surprise, because she would prove that she could be fun, and that she could be cool too.

It was half past ten when the boys finally stumbled through the door, shaking off snow and kicking their boots onto the ground.

Taehyun collected them, setting them on the mat. “Soo-ji will kill us if we get snow everywhere.”

“Do you think she left us dinner?” Beomgyu asked.

“She might’ve left leftovers in the fridge.” Yeonjun said. “I hope that .... woah, did she order food without us?”

“Soo-ji ordered food?” Soobin walked into the living room, spotting the boxes of chicken. “Woah, is she sick or something?”

“It’s cold.” Kai confirmed, pulling a piece out of the bucket. “Should I check her room?”

“Yeah, see if she’s okay.” Soobin nodded, the younger boy taking off.

The leader turned to Yeonjun. “It’s not like her to order food. Was she too sick to cook something?”

“Maybe she had a friend over?” Yeonjun suggested. “Sumi was here, and then they went out for their secret project or whatever.”

A tiny sigh came from the other side of the couch.

“Huh?” Beomgyu peered over. “I found her.”

“She’s not in her-”

“We found her.” Taehyun interruped Kai as they all headed over to the couch.

“There’s onesies on all of our beds.” Kai said, holding up his. “Did she leave them there?”

Sara was passed out on the couch, completely wrapped up in a blanket. Her lipstick was smeared all over her face, and when Soobin peeled back the blanket, he revealed a onesie identical to the one Kai was holding.

“Noona?” Soobin poked her shoulder. “Are you sick?”

She rolled over to look up at him, blinking slowly as she took in the five boys peering down at her.

“Hey, you’re home!” She smiled. “Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Were you waiting up?” Yeonjun asked. “And why did you order food?”

Sara looked over at the cold buckets of chicken. “I thought we could have a movie night. But..what time is it?”

“Almost eleven.” Soobin answered.

Sara sighed. “We can just watch the movies another night. You guys can eat the chicken, I’m going to bed.”

She pushed herself up, standing up from the couch and stretching. Her onesie hung too big on her frame, making her look even tinier than usual.

“Wait!” Taehyun protested. “We can watch a movie now!”

“It’s too late.” She shook her head. “Eat up, we’ll watch tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure.” Yeonjun said uncertainly.

Sara just nodded, heading towards her bedroom and falling directly into bed.

The first thing she was aware of in the morning was someone pulling on the top of her bun.

Her eyes cracked open, looking up at Yeonjun. “What is wrong with you?”

He snapped the elastic on her bun. “Get up. We have a surprise.”

She let him pull her out of her bed, and only once she was on her feet did she take stock of what he was wearing.

He held out the fabric of his red patterned Christmas onesie. “You like it? You’d better, since you picked it out.”

“Looks great.” She rubbed her eyes. “Can I go eat breakfast now?”

“No.” Yeonjun pushed her out towards the living room. “Surprise, remember?”

“Noona!” Taehyun called as soon as she entered the room.

Him, Kai and Beomgyu were all sitting on the couch. The blinds were drawn shut, and a carton of milk and a bowl of cereal was sitting in the only empty spot.

“What’s this?” Sara asked, heading over to the couch. “It’s...what...nine in the morning?”

“No, it’s movie night.” Soobin corrected, coming out of the kitchen, holding a tray full of mugs. “I can’t make tea as good as you, so I went with hot chocolate.”

Sara blinked. “What is going on?”

“We felt bad.” Kai said, reaching and pulling her around the couch. “We told you we’d be home and you made plans, and we let you down. So we’re having a movie night now.”

“At nine in the morning?” Sara raised an eyebrow.

Yeonjun smacked the back of her head. “Just enjoy it. Family time, or whatever.”

Sara glared at him, but wrapped her arms around Beomgyu. “Family time, then. What are we watching?”

“ELF!” Kai shouted. “I want to watch Elf!”

“Elf, it is.” Soobin took a seat on the floor, grabbing a blanket. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready!” Sara tucked her feet behind the leader’s back to keep them warm. “We should do this more often.”

“Sure, just let us know first.” Yeonjun told her. “Because I really wish we had ice cream right now.”

She threw a piece of popcorn at him. “It’s breakfast. You can’t have ice cream for breakfast.”

He snorted. “Try and stop me.”

“Jun!”

“PRESSING PLAY!” Soobin interrupted. “Shut up and watch.”

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meleuki · 5 years

Text

Sleeping Arrangements

Duff Mckagan x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, straight up sex lads.

Word Count: 4,900+

Request: hey!! can I request duff smut but like where it’s the reader’s first time and she’s super nervous but duff is reassuring and gentle and stuff idk whatever you want really lol I really love your writing.

A/N: This is a fucking long one, and I'm so sorry it took me so long. I’ve now begun to work on the other requests, but alas, enjoy! Also @guns-n-crue cause duff ur main hoe.

"So, wait where am I sleeping?" Duff's kind voice pondered the arrangements that the rest of the band and I had just made for the night.

I had two spare mattresses set up in the lounge room, taken by Axl and Slash, the couch that sat next to the beds was already occupied by Steven, who had passed out not long after we'd gotten home from our night out. There was a spare bedroom on the ground floor, but with a single bed, and Izzy had been relieved to discover I had saved the secluded room for him to lay his head, but where would Duff sleep? I had a double bed up in my room, but surely he wouldn't want to sleep there.

"You have a double bed don't you?" Duff questioned, looking up the staircase to the upper floor before shrugging his shoulders, "I guess I'm sharing with you,"

I gulped, doing my best to calm my now raging nerves, "Y-yeah, I guess so,"

My heart began thumping rhythmically against my chest, speeding up anytime the thought of Duff in my bed appeared in my mind, being so close to him would be challenging for my body, I knew I'd ache to touch him, to press myself into the tall blonde's side as he wrapped his arms around me, but we were merely friends, and I merely had a crush on the bass player. A liking for him, that only Axl knew of, and that I hoped Duff would never learn about.

I quickly looked over at Axl, who looked more amused than anything. The mischievous smile that spread across his face as we made eye contact made my shoulders slump, he wasn't even going to try and get me out of the awkward situation, he was going to endorse it.

"Alright then, see you two in the morning," Axl chuckled, flinging himself back onto his bed, but not before giving me a knowing wink, dripping in suggestion.

I sighed at the red-head, quietly following Duff up the stairs and into the decently sized space that I called my room. Vinyls were stacked into a few boxes that had been pushed into the corner of my room, band posters took up a majority of the empty space of the white painted walls, some fairy lights hanging here and there. As I closed the bedroom door behind me, I took in the new decoration inside my room, sitting on my bed, slowly undressing himself - Duff. His chunky black boots thumped against the carpet as he chucked them to the end of the bed, next to be thrown off was his leather vest, followed by his fishnet shirt and then his denim jeans, till he was left in his boxers. I couldn't take my eyes away, the sight before me one I knew that I'd probably never get the chance to adore any other time than right now.

"Are you... just going to stand there?" Duff chuckled, standing up and making his way over to my vanity, sitting down to look over his face, "Or do I have to undress you?"

I froze, letting out an uncomfortable breathy laugh at Duff's words. I slowly began to slide my denim jacket off, letting it pool on the ground around my feet. The old band tee I was wearing came next, slowly slipping over the skin of my stomach before I lifted it over my head, letting it drop around my feet, joining the denim jacket. I froze as I heard Duff turn around in my vanity chair, his eyes falling on my half exposed body. I gulped nervously as his eyes roamed the entirety of my torso, soaking up the sight before him.

Duff stood up from the vanity, coughing awkwardly as he made his way over to my bed, sitting down on the edge, leaning his arms against his knees as he continued to look me over. His eyes raked over my body, devouring the eye candy before him.

"Um, Duff?" I questioned, my thumbs hooked in the sides of my jeans, my eyebrows furrowed curiously as I looked at the blonde man. Duff's eyes looked up from my legs, his brown eyes making contact with my shy orbs, glistening with nerves.

"Sorry, that wasn't right of me," Duff apologised, shaking his head at himself as he began to move the covers of the bed around, so he could shuffle himself under them comfortably. I almost sighed as he turned his back to me, I knew I wouldn't mind having him look me over as I got undressed, if I wasn't so conscious of my body and how it looked. I'd never been intimate with someone, the fear of them being quick to judge clouding my decision, always ending in me saying no and regretting it afterwards.

"Duff?" I took a step closer to the bed, crossing my arms over my stomach, looking down at my feet as he turned his body towards me.

"Yes?"

"Would you take my virginity if I asked?" I blurted out, squeezing my eyes shut as my nerves jumped about inside my body. I could feel the tension in the room rising, the feeling of Duff's eyes on me was overwhelming, even if I couldn't see him staring.

"Well," Duff began, "Are you asking?"

I opened my eyes slowly, unbuttoning my jeans as my eyes met his once again. I watched Duff as he sucked in a breath, standing up from the bed abruptly.

"Yeah, I am," I sighed, sliding my jeans over my hips and down my thighs, letting them collect into a heap around my ankles before stepping out of them. Duff made his way over to me, his eyes taking in the sight before him, now without restraint. I went to cover up my stomach again, almost regretting my decision to ask him as he looked me over; but his hands caught mine before I could wrap them around myself.

"Don't do that, you're beautiful,"

Duff moved one of his hands across my stomach, the leathery pads of his fingertips running across my skin smoothly- but he paused.

"I'm not the guy you want to do this," Duff's eyes met mine, "I'm not- I'm not- uh,"

Duff's hand fell away from me, retreating back to the side of his body. It felt like someone hit me in the gut, a straight cold punch to the abdomen. I could feel the pressure on my lungs as he slid himself back into the bed, sliding across the sheets until he was closest to the wall, his back turned to me. I was left in a sports bra and underwear, completely exposed, in a way I'd never been before. There was a man in my bed, and for the first time in forever, it was a man that I wanted to touch me all over and tell me how pretty I was, but that man wasn't going to dare lay a finger on me during the night.

Duff's breathing was heavy, I could see his back rising and falling with every breath as I crawled into bed next to him. I lied down closer to his body than I probably should have, my warm breath touching his bare skin each time I released any air.

"I'm cold," Duff started, "And you breathing on me isn't helping, (Y/N)."

There was a pause before I shimmied back in the bed a little, putting a few more centimetres of distance between us, but nowhere near enough to stop the feeling of my breathing against Duff's back.

"What're you playing at-" Duff went to speak, drawing his arms tighter around himself.

"If you come closer," I cut him off, pausing slightly as I thought about what to say, "The closer you are to me, the warmer you'll be."

Duff halted his movements, before flipping over completely, his arms shooting out to wrap themselves around my waist and pulling me flush against him. Our legs tangled together, my knee sliding between the heat of his thighs as my feet moved against his shins. I pressed my hands to his chest as he buried his face in the top of my head, inhaling deeply.

"Is this what you wanted?" Duff whispered, pulling his face away from my head and looking down at me. I peered up into his brown eyes, slowly moving my hand up to trace the heavy, tired bags that seemed to be weighing the muddy brown orbs down.

"Duff I want so much more than this," I paused as he closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of my fingers, "But if you don't want to, then it's okay, you don't have to."

Duff sighed, and I felt his fingers begin tracing shapes along my back, sliding up and down the skin slowly, like he was savoring the feel of it.

"It's not that I don't want you, I'm just not the right guy, I'm not-" Duff paused again, "I shouldn't, because I'm just some drunk and I want you to have someone that you deserve."

"Duff I want you to do it, no one else," I cupped his cheek with my hand as his eyes opened, staring down at me, "I trust you, with my everything. I trust that you'll be gentle, and I trust that you'll make me feel beautiful, and I believe you're the only one that could do that."

"Are you sure?" Duff's hands moved lower on my body, sliding across the skin of my hips, his fingers grabbing softly at the flesh.

"Yes," I let my hands slide to the nape of his neck, tangling my fingers in his messy, long hair. Excitement was building in the pit of my stomach. I could already feel it beginning to get slick between my thighs at the thought of what was to come next.

"Okay."

That was all it took, one word, one whisper of closure, and we were on one another. Duff's lips melted against mine, guiding me through the motions as he rolled on top of me, his hands grabbing at my hips with force. His mouth swallowed the sound of my moans, drinking them up like a sweet can of soda on a summer's day. I couldn't help but think we would wake the boys downstairs, but when Duff's hand travelled below the elastic of my panties, I knew I could care less. The feeling of his fingers circling over the one place I'd dreamt of him touching had me writhing against his body, hips bucking into his touch, silently yelling for more. My hands gripped at his shoulders as he slowly removed his hand from my panties, sliding his fingers along the insides of my thighs, my body quivering at the feel of his hands on me; extremely calloused, yet as soft and as gentle as feathers.

Duff’s head dipped down to the skin of my neck, his lips pressing airy light kisses against the warm flesh. His breath flowed between each kiss, making the hairs on my arms stand up stand up at the new sensation. My nerves were on fire, and even the feeling of Duff’s hip bones pushing against my inner thighs had my eyes rolling behind their curtains.

His hands played games along my exposed skin, teasingly slipping under the bottom hem of my sports bra before sliding back down to my waist, again and again - each time his fingers crept higher and higher up, till they were sliding gently over my nipples. I gasped as he began toying with them under the fabric of my bra, rolling them between his middle and pointer finger as his lips trailed up my chest and neck. Our mouths made contact once again, this kiss one hundred times hungrier than the last.

“What are you comfortable with?” Duff breathed out, his hands still busy with my breasts, kneading them in his hands as he broke the kiss for a second to speak.

“Anything,” Kiss, “as long as,” Kiss, “it’s gentle.”

“You got it,” Duff smiled against my mouth, “I’m going to make love to you.”

That sentence seemed to spark something inside my body, like a lick of flame to kindling - I could feel my body heating up. The heat spread from my stomach and chest throughout the rest of my body in waves, slowly producing a sheen of sweat that stuck to my skin. My hands grasped at Duff’s hair as he began trailing his hands down my body once again, his fingers pushing into my skin with enough force to make me hold my breath, but not nearly enough force to be painful. Duff lent back onto his calves, his hands moving my legs so each one was perched over his shoulders. His fingers traced shapes over my legs, his lips pressing little kisses against my knees as he leaned himself forward, revealing my lower half to him; the only form of privacy being the thin piece of cotton that covered my heat. I stared up at him expectantly, having very little experience as to what was to come next, nerves beginning their trek to overtake my certain mind, wavering my decisions like jelly.

One of Duff’s hands moved to grip my waist, his thumb stroking soothingly over the skin as he detected my sense of uncertainty.

“I’m gonna use my fingers on you, alright?” Duff slid his hand in a small window-wiper motion across my side, “You still okay with this?”

“Yes, I am,” I swallowed my anxieties, doing my best to shove them to the back of my mind. I wasn’t going to let my insecurities stuff it all up for me this time, especially with a guy like Duff, who I’d dreamed about for a very long time. I finally was being given a chance to receive the loving I’d always wanted, no way in hell was I just going to let my anxiety throw that away.

I sucked in a breath as Duff traced his fingers above my pantie line, giving it a second before diving down beneath the material. The calloused feel of his fingertips made my stomach jump. His middle finger dipped down lower, tracing the tip of his finger along my folds, occasionally pressing against my entrance, and then sliding back up again; all the while his thumb massaged my clit with expertise. Duff slid his middle finger down my slit once more, his finger slipping past my entrance, my mouth falling open slightly as he began to cautiously sheath his long finger within my walls. I clenched around him, the feeling of his fingers felt way better than my own, way better than any feeling anyone had been able to give me.

I reached my hand down to grasp at Duff’s wrist, causing him to pause in his actions as I whimpered out one single word; “More.”

Without hesitating, Duff reached his pointer finger down to join his middle, pulling his finger out of me, getting them slick with my arousal, only to push them both back in; harsher this time, a little bit rougher. My back arched slightly off the mattress at the feeling of being full, his fingers were touching places inside of me I didn’t know existed. He curled them, pressing them upwards against my walls, hitting a spot that made me cry out, my voice hoarse. Duff leaned down closer to my face, pressing his forehead against mine as my legs slid further down his arms. Sweet nothings and encouragements spilt from his pink lips, fuelling the fire in my stomach. His fingers moved at a leisurely pace, his hips pressing against my ass as it raised slightly from the bed. I gripped at the sheets of my bed, balling them up in my fists out of desperation to release some of the tension that was building like a wildfire in my stomach.

A high-pitched whine left my lips as Duff pulled his hand away from me. I would’ve cringed if I weren’t so invested in keeping his hands attached to my body. His eyes darted down to my clothed crotch, his mouth falling open slightly at the slick noises that sounded throughout the room as his fingers drew away from my arousal. His hands glided across the skin of my thighs, gripping them just above my knee and pulling them down from my shoulders before he leaned forward again, his bare torso pressing against mine. I moaned at the feeling of his weight on top of me, my hands moving to drag and tangle themselves through his blonde hair, attaching his lips to mine with a passion I didn’t know I possessed. A grunt of surprise echoed in Duff’s mouth as he welcomed my tongue into the kiss, flicking his own against my muscle. My lips grew tingly as we both continued our exploration of each other - my hands wandering down his chest and over the curve of his stomach and waist. I trailed my fingertips back up his body, scraping my nails over his shoulders, slowly reaching further down his back, pushing his body harder against mine. There was barely any space left between our bodies. I could feel our sweat mixing as we kissed, the hunger and lust for sex growing deep within our minds and filling the room with a tension that would be hard to re-invent. This was the raw desire of animal instinct running through our veins, and I was ready to let it take control.

Duff rolled his hips up into my crotch, rubbing the tip of his hard cock against my clit. A sharp breath entered my lungs as he detached his lips from my own, gyrating his member against me, painfully slow.

“Fuck…” Duff let out a breath of content, his jaw clenching shortly after the curse left his mouth, his eyes peering down at me, “You’re so beautiful… incredible.”

Duff’s head dropped down, his dirty blonde locks brushing softly against my forehead as he groaned, the sound coming from deep down in his throat. I raked my nails gently across his back, sliding them up and down the smooth skin. Whimpers and moans of my own released themselves from deep inside my throat, piercing the air like steel tipped arrows. Duff’s hands planted themselves next to my shoulders, pushing himself up above me. One of his hands lifted up from the sheets, trailing along the strap of my sports bra. Duff sat himself up, kneeling between my legs, his hands now both trailing along my bra, caressing the skin just underneath the hemmings. I moved my arms above my head, giving him the ok to take off the piece of clothing. I gasped as the cold air hit my nipples, hardening them into peaks. The sound of my bra hitting the floor somewhere distant in my ears. My panties were next - Duff wasting no time in hooking his fingers around the elastic and slipping them down my leg, tossing them to the side and leaving me completely bare beneath him.

“Are you going to take yours off?” I hooked my fingers underneath the edges of Duff’s boxers, giving the elastic a little tug before looking up at him.

“Not yet, I wanna taste you first,” Duff mumbled against my lips as he pressed his nose into the flesh of my cheek, hands slipping down on my body to grasp at my hips. My breath caught in my throat as Duff began to lower himself towards my now exposed heat, pepper-light kisses planted after each few centimetres his face hovered past. His lips pressed against my clit, his tongue flicking out not soon after to make me jump, my back arching up off the bed. I felt my hips roll forward towards Duff as I settled down; the feeling of his open mouth kisses against my wet slit making me sigh with satisfaction. The feeling of being loved so tenderly was so new to me, or maybe it’d just been so long since I’d felt it - ever yet, it was refreshing. I felt as if I was drinking the loveliest flame and letting it lick at the inside of my throat, my voice growing hoarse and desperate as Duff continued his actions on my sensitive bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and sucking harshly.

I whined as Duff pulled his face away from me, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand as his hazel eyes stared down at me. Something I couldn’t place my finger on rippled behind his eyes, they looked almost glassy as he looked over my body, soaking every inch of it into his memory. I sat up on the bed, leaning forward to attach my mouth to the skin just below Duff’s chest, sloppily kissing along the pale skin, savouring the taste of him on my tongue and the smell of him invading my senses, bringing me an overwhelming sense of calm.

“Lay back for me,” Duff held onto my hands as I drifted my back down onto the mattress, obeying his words, “Good girl.”

I raised my legs up, slipping them around Duff’s waist, pulling his crotch against mine softly. The material of his boxers soaked up the arousal dripping from my heat, leaving a dark patch against the underwear.

“Do you think you’re ready for me?” Duff slid his fingers along my cheek as he looked down at me, the strands of his blonde hair swaying gently over my face - almost ticklish. All I could manage in response was some enthusiastic nods and eager moans, never having been so needy for someone’s dick in my life. I reached my hand out to the side, coming in contact with the bedside tables draws. My hand scrambled for the draw handle, eventually gripping it and dragging the draw open as fast as I could. I heard the rattle of a few things being thrown around in the wooden compartment.

I saw Duff’s eyes dart to the draw, a chuckle leaving his lips, “Condoms, right.”

His hand disappeared out of sight for a few seconds, diving for one of the small, square packets that had been strewn across the top of a few notebooks. The small rip of plastic rung in the air, and I held my breath as Duff’s arm returned to his side, his left hand moving to help him shimmy his boxers down his legs - the piece of clothing soon joining mine on the floor. I was transfixed by the sight of his cock before my eyes, hovering above my core as he rolled the condom down his length. The nerves grew in my stomach as he placed one of his arms beside my head, the realization that this was really happening settling in my brain.

“Duff, wait I-,” I cut myself off, thickly swallowing as the blonde shifted his gaze from my arousal to my eyes, concern displaying itself clearly in the hazel orbs.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to, we don’t have to,” Duff sighed, moving his other hand up to stroke his fingers along my jaw, a soothing gesture that seemed to calm my nerves slightly; enough to clear my judgement of what was going on.

“I want to Duff,” I sighed, “Just-”

“Just what, baby? You’ve gotta communicate with me,” Duff cooed, his fingers continuing their caresses along my face.

“Could you kiss me through it please?” I mumbled, closing my eyes as Duff’s breathy laughter washed over the skin of my cheek.

“Whatever you need, honey,” Duff whispered, his lips pressing a kiss against my cheek after he finished talking. A trail of light pecks wandered over the flesh of my face, his mouth soon coming into blissful contact with mine. Distracting me from any disruptive thoughts, making me grow ever thankful at the fact that I had a guy like Duff to guide me through such a process.

I felt a slight nudge against my entrance, wincing as the head of Duff’s length slid itself inside me. The soft coos of Duff against my lips made me relax, and soon the feeling of him slowly slipping into me becoming welcome by my body. The feeling of being full was so new, yet so undeniably delicious. My gasps and sighs were being swallowed by Duff, our breath mixing as we kissed. I could faintly taste alcohol on his tongue, my mind wondering how long it had been since his lips wrapped around a bottle of vodka.

“Ah!” A cry left my lips as Duff’s hips snapped forward suddenly, completely sheathing himself inside of me. I could feel myself clenching around his cock, my eyes fluttering shut as the feeling of being completely and utterly full ran throughout my body.

“You okay?” Duff lightly grazed his lips across my forehead, whispering the words as calmly as he could.

I nodded, giving his neck a small squeeze as encouragement to continue, his hips immediately withdrawing from me, only to slip all the way back inside again. His hips stuttered as he made the first few thrusts, the feeling of my already tight walls clenching around him making it hard for him to maintain his composure. Eventually his rhythm grew steady as I stretched to accompany his size, the heat in my body growing hotter by the second. All I could feel was his body against mine - the sweat, the heat and the energy pouring out of our pores and contaminating each other with a lust that almost felt like rage, bubbling up inside of our stomachs and chests, constricting the pipes within our throats. It was an animalistic desire to get rid of this rage, an anger to finish what we had started, to reach our peaks. The very new feeling of Duff buried inside of me was uncomfortable, yet the man who sat above me was desperate for me to enjoy every moment of our time together. His hand slipped down between our bodies, clammy with sweat, and attached the tips of his middle and pointer finger to my clit. The sensation made me jolt, my body tensing as the pleasure I was now receiving helped make the awkward feeling of being full a little more bearable.

Duff’s thrusts set a slow, but heavy rhythm. The knot in my stomach was building as he continued to swirl his fingers around my bundle of nerves, his other hand pressing firmly into the mattress beside my head. I reached my hands up to tangle themselves in his hair, swiping a bead of sweat off his forehead before it had the chance to run down into his brow. My hips began moving on their own accord, rocking to the rhythm Duff had set, my mouth falling open as the head of his cock brushed against a certain spot inside me.

“Right there, huh?” Duff grunted, moving his hand from my clit to my hip. I could feel his fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled my lower half up slightly.

Duff thrusted again, the same spot he hit before coming into contact with his length once more, much easier this time. I couldn’t help the choked noises that left my throat, or my fingers clawing at his shoulders as my eyes fluttered shut under his fiery gaze. His hips continued to work, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing out through the bedroom as he hit that spot over and over again. My whole being was overwhelmed, the knot in my stomach growing tighter by the second. I couldn’t produce coherent words, a feeling all to unknown flowing through my veins. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me further into him as he continued to slip in and out of my heat, grunts and moans of appreciation for the feeling of my body leaving his lips in flurries. I clawed at his back, arching up into him as I cried out, feeling my orgasm approaching.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” Duff didn’t slow down, his position staying the same, his voice almost desperate for me to finish, “Come all over my cock, come on.”

I whined, throwing my head back and letting out a loud cry of satisfaction as the knot in my stomach unravelled, my release flowing out over Duff’s length. I could feel Duff grunting into my neck, his sweet words and encouragement guiding me through my euphoria as he kept thrusting into me, working towards his own high as well as elongating mine. It wasn’t long before Duff’s hips halted, twitching ever so slightly as he came, biting down into my shoulder.

We sat like that for a few minutes, tangled in each other's embrace and silently going over everything that had just happened. My hands traced along Duff’s jaw, his forehead pressed against mine, breathing heavily, eyes closed. I’d never seen him look so peaceful or at home, it was almost like he’d drifted into a state of complete serenity, and I felt empowered by the fact that he’d found it buried inside me.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Duff whispered, his aura not shifting in the slightest.

“I did, thank you,” I closed my eyes, leaning up and placing my lips gently against Duff’s. It seemed the most proper way to give him a seal of approval and gratitude, putting my lips back on his just made sense. My heart fluttered as I felt the pressure of him kissing me back, shivers running down my spine as if I’d just walked outside on a fresh winter morning.

“Good,” He sighed.

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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years

Text

if not by blood, then siblings by bloodshed (part two)

Part 1

Note: Kitty’s age has been changed to seven! I was writing her way younger than an eleven year old would act, so I changed it

TW: Blood and gore, violence, animal violence, death

——————

Undead Lullaby

Water.

Water was what the air in and around this part of the forest smelled like the most.

It was in the deep, earthen musk of the damp soil that lay beneath the lush, dew-soaked grass.

It was in the marshy fumes, sometimes sulfurous, sometimes sickly-sweet, of the patches of hidden swamp that lay in wait for unsuspecting feet.

It was in the carpets of fallen leaves that hid hollows between the tree roots, where pools could collect and play host to all things that crawled or squirmed through the wet.

It was in the very forest itself, coating wet leaves and bleeding from the dark, pulpy wood of the gnarled, old trees.

There was nothing dry about this place.

Fog, ghostly-grey and creeping on silent feet, drifted in low wisps over the crumbled and cold earth, painting the normally-stark outlines of the trees so pale that they faded into the sky rather than stood boldly against it. The mist had dissipated somewhat since anyone had last passed through this particular stretch of rarely-visited meadow, but not by much. Hours, though, or perhaps a day before, it had been as oppressive and thick as cold clam chowder.

Now it was slowly thinning out, listlessly lacking the eerie, almost lifelike malevolence with which it had pressed in upon the very soul before. There was a certain…uncertainty about the way it was hovering now, no longer pouring into every little hollow and alcove like milk over cereal. It was just there.

There, in a sort of in-between way. Lingering.

All was still, and- save for the rhythmic pitter-patter of falling rain- all was silent as well.

Except for herself, of course.

It was movement in the stillness that preceded the first disruption of the tranquility of the forest; the silk-thin web of drifting mist that hung in the air like lace slowly began to slide forward, rolling away from her feet like a translucent white carpet, perhaps in front of some ghostly noble attending an afterlife celebration in their name. Right from the raid the day before, her movement through this strange, still world, which her life had become, had felt alien and out of place, but it had never felt that way more than right now.

With each footstep, a narrow patch of soggy grass pressed down and sent a miniature pool of moisture bubbling up around the edges of her boots and in through invisible gaps in the leather, oozing into her already-saturated socks and settling in icy little pools in the dips where her toes went, setting the blisters on the skin alight with fresh pain. If her feet hadn’t already been numb from the wet and cold, she might have cared more. But everything from her toes to her feet and the soaked leather that clung stiffly to them was in no shape to feel anything but the dull warning stings of oncoming pins and needles.

Besides, Joan had other things on her mind right now.

Like how the old, rickety bow she had slung across her chest had its arrowheads tipped with red. And it wasn’t rust. (Could flint even rust?)

Like how the sharp, metallic tang of blood and bile and sweat was gushing off of her in waves and invading her nostrils with each breath. It was so overpowering that at times it made her want to choke.

Like how lifting her feet from the indents they made in the muddy undergrowth kept on getting harder and harder to do. Her legs felt heavier with each step and the little grassy pools made squelchy noises of protest, sucking hungrily at her feet each time they left the earth. Behind her in the grass, there was a long trail of tiny shoe-shaped lakes, like murky little grey-green cousins of the ones she had read about in books.

Like what had happened just fourteen hours before.

There was a clank-CLONK and a gentle patter as droplets of condensation came raining down from where they’d collected on the bars of the town gate. There was no real latch, so she just pushed it open. There had been one once, but it had rusted away under the perpetual wet.

…Or maybe it hadn’t.

The gate’s movement ground to a halt after a mere few inches, hindered by tufts of almost-oily grass which had been allowed to grow out of control around the edges of the compound for what had probably been years. They snagged on the metal almost as though they were alive, gripping its frame with the sort of desperation one normally only saw from a particularly needy child clinging to its mother’s arm while she was on her way to work.

A half-hearted hiss of frustration escaped her as the gate’s creaking cut off. She clenched sore and swollen fingers around the wet bars, feeling flakes of rust and ancient, now-colorless paint crumble away and stick to her fingertips, which the condensation in the air had turned pruny and pale pink, like anemic raisins. When further shoving only yielded that rubbery, elastic sound that wet wild grass sometimes got, she let out a puff of air and gave up for the moment, leaning in to rest her forehead against the cool metal as she slouched, peering through the bars at the army of houses lined up within. She was so close to a roof over her head, food, maybe even water, and a damn hunk of metal was standing in her way.

“Joan?”

Joan hadn’t even realized she was dozing until the voice snapped her back to awareness. She reared back slightly, shaking her head, then looks down at the girl holding her hand at her side.

She could tell Kitty was as tired as she was. Their legs were still sore from all the running they did the day before, the rest they got was more of a doze, and they had been walking since dawn.

At least it had been dry yesterday. And relatively warm. Summer had breathed its last breaths on the tragedy, and fall replaced its absence with quick chills and a drizzle that proved to be just as hellish as a full downpour. After walking for hours through autumn’s first wrath, the town that appeared in the distance was a blessing. Now they just had to find a way in and hope the villagers wouldn’t mind.

They’d have to squeeze their tired bodies through that narrow gap, Joan realized, and she just wasn’t ready to deal with that. Maybe in five seconds. Yes, five seconds sounded good. Five seconds was plenty of time. In five seconds, her aching legs would feel a little better, her blistered feet would stop crying in agony, and she’d stand tall, shove that gate wide open, and continue her trek with renewed determination.

But that was just wishful thinking. In five seconds, her legs continued to hurt and the gate still refused to open.

“We’ll have to squeeze through,” Joan finally said. “Think you can fit through there, Kit?”

Kitty nodded and let go of Joan’s hand.

They both suddenly felt it- the cold, horrifying feeling of letting go of one another. It took everything in Kitty to not immediately cling back to Joan, but she gathered up enough courage to slip through the small opening of the gate.

“Good girl,” Joan smiled in relief.

“Your turn!” Kitty said, smiling slightly. “You can do it!”

Joan took a deep breath and pressed her body through the gap. She gets one half to the other side, then got stuck.

Icy cold fear shot through her veins, drenching her insides like a thick, dark oil spill. She knew she shouldn’t have eaten some of that deer yesterday- now she’s going to be stuck in between this gate forever.

“Joan?”

Two small hands closed around hers, squeezing tightly.

“Joan, it’s okay. You’re almost there!”

Joan screwed her eyes shut and let out a small, choked sob. She doesn’t think she’s crying actual tears, but her chest aches like she is.

“Come on, Joey. I believe in you! I’ll help you!”

There was a tug on her hand. She pushes with her foot that was still outside and inches forward, no longer wedged completely between the gates, but then a sharp pain streaks across the back of her shoulder.

“Stop! Stop!” She cried as the sharpness pressing deeper into her skin.

“You’re almost through, Joey!”

Joan struggled, deepening the pain, but manages to wiggle out to the other side. She staggered forward, nearly falling face-first into the weathered stone pavement, but manages to catch herself. She winces, feeling warmth spread across the back of her shoulder.

“You did it!” Kitty grapples back onto her hand, smiling. “I told you you could do it! I’m so proud of you!”

Joan smiles wearily at her.

“Thanks,” She said.

The two looked forward, examining the town now set before them.

The mist and drizzle may have made it hard to see, but the streets were definitely empty. Wet wood wafted heavily in the thick air from the splintering, old houses packed tightly together along the roads and alleyways. Flies buzzed wildly around rotting food, long-abandoned by their merchants.

What happened here?

Kitty and Joan walked quietly through the town, getting enough context clues to know that something wasn’t quite right. Crumbled, cracked stone pavement crunched beneath their feet; the crackle of the gravel seemed to be the loudest sound in the world on the road, but it was much better than the sloshing stew of mud out in the forest by a mile.

“There’s nothing here,” Joan muttered.

“Do we leave?” Kitty asked.

“I...I don’t...know...”

The reply came out slow as Joan’s body suddenly became heavy. She stumbled, becoming aware of a sharp sensation in her neck. The ground rushes up to meet her as everything around her began to bleed together.

The last thing she saw was Kitty’s horrified face.

————

To say that she was dreaming would be inaccurate.

Being knocked out wasn't like being asleep, even if it resulted in more or less the same comatose state.

The dark and restless thoughts that ran through her head like little mice skittering up and over and in and out of the gaps in a rock wall were not dreams so much as memories. Or memories of memories. Or maybe they weren't memories at all, and her brain just thought they were. The images flickered across the inside of her eyelids so quickly that she could hardly make sense of them before they were gone, like flipping through the pages of a book. All of it was accompanied by a strange, twisting sensation like her whole body was twined around a fast clock, inching round and round in tiny little circles.

If she'd been awake, the feeling would have made her nauseous.

But she wasn't awake, so all it did was add further confusion to the mess of images and muffled sounds that were streaming through her brain like ancient text on a stone wall.

Then, suddenly, she wasn’t out.

The mismatched dream of patchwork, out-of-order memories dissolved and Joan was suddenly jarringly awake and aware of several things all at once: that she was lying on her back on something soft and lumpy and scratchy, that her nostrils were so plugged that she'd have had more of a chance of inhaling through her ears than through her nose, that every inch of her legs ached profoundly, and that she was very, very cold, to name a few.

But more than anything else, she was aware that something hard and slightly sharp was digging into the pouchy, tender flesh on stomach and chest. It hurt.

“...Hnnnnnnhg. H...hel...help....nnnnnn!”

Making her lips form words was distinctly harder in real life than it had been in a dream. There was a whole process to it. First she had to make them form the letter-shapes, and then she had to somehow summon the energy to make her vocal cords work, and all in the scant amount of time she had before her lips forgot what they were doing and went back to being useless and rubbery again.

The mumbled pleas went unnoticed.

Her head had mysteriously gotten heavier since the last time she’d paid any attention to it and it now weighed approximately as much as a large boulder.

It wouldn't move, no matter what she did to it. She tried lifting it, but in addition to being a boulder now, it was also apparently magnetically attached to whatever she was laying on. She tried again to move it by arching and rolling her shoulders, but all that did was send a lightning bolt of agony up and down her spine and she crumpled down with a whimper.

It's a struggle to breathe; the weight that lies on top of her is crushing her. When she tries to squirm, the sharp, hard thing digs further into her ribs. Pain pulses behind her eyes. Her neck really hurts. There's the salt tang of blood on her lips.

She forces her eyes open. Pale light stabs at her. Weak sunlight behind an unbreakable wall of grey clouds. It glints off the rings of the mail shirt worn by the dead body she lies on, and the one that lies atop her. There's a face next to hers, bloodless, mouth slack. Its helm is split in two.

The weight above her is another corpse. When her limbs stop tingling, she heaves at it with rising panic and it rolls aside like a sack of grain and now she can breathe.

As she’s gasping, someone laughs, a guttural bark, and a figure looms over her. Long pale hair, tattered furs and leather and the gleam of exposed muscle.

“Don’t squirm around too much, dear,” The skinned old woman said, “You might black out again. I may have put a little too much poison on that dart.” She laughs again, then looks Joan over, “My, your eyes went wide. Don’t worry, it’s not the kind of poison you’re thinking about. It just slows your heartbeat so the guards think you’re dead.”

Joan swallows hard. Her throat is dry and scratchy. Her tongue feels a little swollen, like it had been stung by a bee.

“Come on- get up. You must be thirsty.”

Despite her age, the old woman pulled Joan to her feet effortlessly. Her hands were unnaturally smooth.

Now that her vision was cleared up, Joan was able to see that she was in a moderately sized pit filled with dead bodies of varying stages of decay. Off to the side, there was a wooden door, which she was taken into. Inside, a bunker filled with cats and lit by a fireplace was hidden.

“Here,” The old woman handed Joan a clay cup full of water. “Drink. Slowly.”

Joan obeys and drank. The water tasted amazing to her dried mouth, and she couldn’t help but gulp it all down greedily.

“Where-” She panted for a moment, “Where’s Kitty?”

“Kitty?” The old woman blinked, “You mean that little girl? She saw me before I could shoot her. Ran off into the village.”

Fear poured through Joan, just like when she had gotten stuck at the gate, but somehow worse.

Was Kitty okay? Was she alive? These questions viciously gnawed away at Joan’s mind.

“Why did you even shoot me?” Joan asked.

“You really don’t know, do you?” The old woman said, “Although, you did just waltz into this town like you owned the place. So I’m not surprised.” She sighed, “There’s a plague going around. Viral illness. If all the bodies in that pit didn’t say anything.”

“A plague?”

“Yes, a plague. Spread by rats and something people are calling ‘Hellhounds’. Vicious dogs with deadly bites.“

Joan‘s mind flashes back to the dog at the stables.

“People are losing their minds over it. That’s why this place is under such heavy lockdown. Everyone is scared to come out of their houses and anyone caught coming in from the outside aren’t exactly welcomed with open arms.”

“What...what about you?” Joan asked.

“I had all the infected flesh stripped off of me.” The woman woman answer openly, “I hide down here, now. Don’t worry if you think I’m lonely. I have the cats to keep me company.” She gestures to the several felines roaming about the bunker, “They’re special, you see. Not your normal cats. They’re good at detecting signs of the plague. Especially the dogs. Strong, too. If you’re thinking about going back out there, you should take one.”

“I have to. I have to find Kitty.”

The old woman hums. She looks around, deciding on a sphinx with grey spots.

“Take him.” She said, waving her hand. The cat jumps onto the table and sits in front of Joan. His eyes are dark amber. “His name is Mercy.”

Joan nodded silently. She watched the cat leap with his strong, springy legs and perch on her shoulder.

“Go on.” The old woman said, “I suggest checking the church for your friend.”

“I will. Thank you.”

The old woman hums again.

“One more thing. Take that.”

————

Like the old woman said, Joan found Kitty at the church. Mercy led her up to one of the window sills so she could peek in, and she watched as several villagers through stones at Kitty, laughing at the way she tried to evade them like she was a little mouse. The sight made Joan’s blood boil in her veins.

The crashing of glass interrupted the horrible game. Joan leapt down from the window- landing from such a height sent pain rattling up her already-sore legs, but she ignored it.

“Fuck, she’s alive!” One man yelled.

“Did the disease reanimate her?” Another shouted.

“I thought she was dead!” A third hollered.

“Shit, she has a weapon!” One cried.

“THAT’S RIGHT!” Joan screeched as pandemonium broke out in the church, “RUN, YOU BASTARDS!!”

The villagers were all running in different directions, desperate to get away from the “infected girl”. A few actually attempt to attack her, which she moves a bit too slowly to evade. Her throat was about to get cut wide open when a hiss came from up above. There’s a flash of pink and grey; the man is howling in agony- Mercy has his claws driven deep into his eyes.

Joan watches as he scratches and scratches and scratches until one socket rips down in a large, bloody trench, and the other eyeball gets ripped right out, dangling from the string of flesh like the ball of a child’s paddle toy.

Joan stares, slightly stunned, before seeing a man charging at her out of the corner of her eye. His knife gleams in the torchlight. Joan lifts her axe and drives it into the side of his head.

The man’s skull shatters upon impact. Blood spurts into the open air. He stumbles then falls. Joan heaves the axe back down, carving a deep gash in his face. As she does so, words bubble up.

“NEVER—” There’s a horrible crack and crunch of bones. “EVER—” Brain matter, squished skin, and other fluids squelch wetly. “TOUCH—” The flesh splits open wide; muscle and tendon fray so easily. “HER—” Blood sprays out onto Joan’s face. “AGAIN!!!”

With one last strike, the man’s head, caved in and gored beyond belief, breaks open in two. The image of a melon being cut comes to Joan’s mind. Except melons don’t usually have a mutilated, mushed brain inside of their outer layer.

Joan’s lungs burned from exertion. She took deep, heavy breaths and raised one arm to use her sleeve to wipe away the sweat and blood dotting her face. The red fluid smears across her skin, but she scrubs it away as best as she can.

The axe wedged in a chunk of skull and brain matter squelches loudly when Joan pulls it free. It feels secure in her hand- normal. The weight of it is...comforting.

Mercy trots over. His paws and face are coated with blood. Joan remembers back to what that old woman said about the cats being different. When she saw the eviscerated body of an armed woman a few feet away, she believed the skinned lady about her statement- there’s no way a regular cat could spill someone’s guts like that.

Mercy jumps onto Joan’s shoulder. She uses her other, slightly cleaner sleeve to wipe off his feet and face. While she’s doing so, exactly why she just caved in someone’s skull came back to her.

“J-Joan?”

Joan whirled around. Mercy had to cling to her shoulder with his claws so he wouldn’t go flying off.

Kitty was huddled under a pew, shivering with tears streaming down her cheeks. Joan runs to her and immediately pulls her into a tight embrace.

“Oh, Kitty...” She whispers, holding the girl tightly. “I was so worried about you... Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Th-they threw rocks at me,” Kitty whimpered, “C-called me a witch! I’m not a witch...”

“You’re not.” Joan said, “Those bastards don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Language,” Kitty squeaked.

“Sorry.” Joan said. She squeezed Kitty again. “It’s okay, now. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Kitty buried her face in her shoulder and Joan rocks her soothingly. The younger girl cries for a few minutes, but eventually calms down. Joan gently strokes her hair.

“Feeling a little better?” Joan asked.

“Mhm...” Kitty nodded. She looked up at Mercy, who was watching her with big eyes. “Oh! A kitty!” She giggles, “Like me!”

“That’s right,” Joan chuckles. She picks up Mercy and sets him in Kitty’s arms. “His name is Mercy! He’s gonna be coming with us.”

“Mercy,” Kitty repeated. She giggles, nuzzling her nose into the cat’s neck. “He’s warm!”

Joan smiled and stood up, taking one of Kitty’s hands. She slips her axe into her belt and the two began walking out from the church’s back entrance.

“Joan?”

“Yeah?”

“When are we going to see mummy again?”

Joan faltered in her step for a moment, then continued her normal stride. The image of Jane with an arrow through her throat flashed through her mind, but she shoved it away.

“Soon.” Joan finally answered. “Soon...”

“Okay.” Kitty nods. “Where are we going?”

“To...Catherine of Aragon.”

“Oh! She’s nice!” Kitty smiled. “She always wears pretty gold dresses. I think that’s her favorite color.” She pauses. “What’s your favorite color, Joey?”

“My favorite color?” Joan thought for a moment. “Light blue is pretty. So is grey. What’s yours?”

“Pink!” Kitty said proudly.

“Oooh, good pick,” Joan smiled down at the little girl.

“I know!” Kitty said, then gasped, which made Joan’s hand fly to her axe. “Joey! Joey, look! Flowers!”

Kitty ran forward, letting go of Joan’s hand. She set Mercy down in front of a large patch of flowers growing in the church garden, then started picking some for herself. Joan walked over, slightly less tense.

“Come here, come here!” Kitty waved her over excitedly and Joan crouched down next to her. “Look.”

Kitty began weaving several flowers together in elaborate strands until they formed a beautiful little crown. She reaches up and sets it on Joan’s head, taking a moment to fix her unruly hair, then stepped back, admiring her handiwork.

“There!” She beamed, “Perfect!”

Joan couldn’t help the blush that dusted her cheeks. She raised a hand and gently touched the flower crown as if it were the most precious thing to ever exist (and it very well may have been).

“Thank you,” She whispered.

“It’s for protection.” Kitty states.

Joan nodded, smiling softly.

“Thank you, Kit. Really.”

Kitty grins widely. She quickly clings back to Joan’s hand, nuzzling her head against her arm. Mercy leaps up onto Joan’s shoulder.

“Onward!” Kitty suddenly cried, “Catherine of Aragon, prepare for Princess Kitty and her trusty bodyguard Joan: lord of the flowers!”

Joan giggled. “Don’t forget our fierce knight, Sir Mercy!”

Mercy meows.

“Oh, of course! Of course! Princess Kitty, Joan: lord of the flowers, and Sir Mercy!”

“The most powerful band of warriors to ever grace England!”

“The most fearsome!”

“The most amazing!”

Mercy warbles a meow.

Joan and Kitty burst into fits of laughter.

(It’s strange, Joan thinks, how she’s able to laugh and play pretend like this after what happened in the past two days. After she murdered someone.)

(She likes laughing and playing pretend with Kitty.)

(She likes being Joan: lord of the flowers.)

“That Catherine woman isn’t gonna know what hit her.”

#siblings by bloodshed #tiny kat au #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical #six fanfic #six fanfiction #six fic #katherine howard #joan on the keys #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: animal violence #tw: violence #tw: death

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nunukibebe · 5 years

Text

Someone's Someone - H1

Hyungwon - Part 1

WARNING: mutual masturbation.

This series is gonna be fun, lovelies. Buckle up!

~°~°~°~°~°~

It hadn’t been the best day, and it only got worse when you finally stumbled home. After kicking off your heels and dumping your purse and mail onto the kitchen counter, you almost missed the pale green envelope that slid from under all the other mail you’d collected. If the apartment hadn’t been as silent as a monastery during evening prayer, there was no way you could have heard it hit the tile floor. But, you did and as soon as you picked it up, you wished you hadn’t. You knew what it was the instant you laid eyes on the handwriting, and there was no stopping the instant clench to your gut as you realized what you were holding was a wedding invite.

Not just any wedding invite though. Your cousin was marrying your ex. Who had cheated on you with your cousin. After 5 years of being in a relationship.

Uncaring of the ripping sound that came from your skirt as you slid to the floor, the innocent envelope hand in shaking hand, you fought back tears that were both from fury and the sudden stab to the back. It hadn’t even been a full year since you’d caught them in your bed, and now they were inviting you to the wedding. You had managed to escape going to their engagement party, but it looked like you were doomed.

Cousin Da-Da knew damn well that there was no way you were going to be able to decline the invite. Attendance to all family functions was almost mandatory in your family, and although you had been able to skip out on the last few holiday dinners thanks to work, there was no way you would be able to use that same excuse. Work had finally died down, the purchase and merging of a small business on the brink of bankruptcy done and settled.

To make things worse, you’d be going to the wedding single. Because of the workload that had been dumped into your lap the second you’d received the promotion, there had been little time for dating or men in general. That didn’t mean you hadn’t had ‘fun’ though, and a wave of goosebumps ghosted over you skin as a particular night came to mind, followed by the flash of a card being slipped into your purse.

Scrambling up from where you’d been leaning against a cupboard, invite in hand, shedding work clothes as you made your way to your bedroom until you were clad in nothing but a silky camisole that did nothing but emphasize your cleavage and panties of the same fabric. Passing the full length mirror that stood by your closet, you rolled your eyes as you noticed your nipples standing out as though you weren’t wearing a lightly padded bra. It had been a few weeks since that night, yet your body still reacted as though it had just happened.

Grabbing the purse you’d used that night, you fished out the card that you knew was there, having thrown it back in after a long internal debate. It wasn’t much, just a smallish piece of stock paper with a few lines written on it in black matte ink against a plain black background, yet it stayed in the back of you mind for days. Just last night you had stood with your hand stretched out over the trashcan for hours, the unassuming business card dangling from your fingertips as you had a mental war over whether to drop it or not. In the end you had sighed and tossed it onto the kitchen counter, instead throwing yourself on to your couch to bury your head in the cushions as you screamed.

Now, however, you were staring at the black card, gaze switching between it and the wedding invitation. Two very different kinds of hell, one in each hand and if you hadn’t been so upset, you would have laughed at the irony. Instead, you were toying with the idea of slamming your head into the nearest wall.

Dropping the invite on your desk, you grabbed your laptop and pulled it closer, gathering your courage as you waited for it to boot up. Typing the website into a private search browser, you impatiently tapped your fingernails against the arm of your chair. Then, the page loaded and your heart leapt into your throat as the simple white words danced against a deep red background.

Someone’s Someone - VIP ESCORT SERVICES

With a shaky hand, you scrolled down till the end, mouth dry as you clicked on the ‘Hire’ button. Eyes widening at the list of questions you were required to fill out, you paused, uncertainty seeping in. Then the cruel laughter in your ex’s eyes flashed across your vision, and you set to answering the questions, being as honest as possible. Not faltering at the security questions meant to prove you weren’t a psycho looking for their next meal, you spent the next half hour with your tongue caught between your teeth, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Then, with a sharp finger stab to the enter button, you waited as the website verified your information, moving from your desk to the where a decanter of whiskey waited on a cart. Pouring yourself a glass of the amber liquid, you blankly stared out the window that overlooked the city skyline, trying your best not to think about the night that would go down in history as the worst night ever.

Thankfully, a cheery ping from your laptop had you turning around, a small smirk crossing your lips as you caught the personalized greeting as you slid back into your chair, crossing your legs off to the side as you leaned an elbow on your desk. Then, the screen changed again, and a photo gallery of the options appeared. Catching your lower lip in your teeth, you clicked on the album that offered Full Service, mouth instantly drying up when the first picture appeared, finger mashing the mouse button.

Tanned skin that glistened with sweat, abs for days, you stared at the body displayed on your screen, lost in thoughts of lust before forcing yourself to snap back to the task at hand. Scrolling down to see the details, you frowned when you read that he didn’t offer the one thing you needed to deliver a swift kick to the nads of your ex. Public Displays of Affection had always been a sore point between the two of you, he hating it and you loving it. Bringing arm-candy who would give you those little touches you craved was exactly what you needed.

Regretfully closing the tab, you ran a finger along the rim of the whiskey glass as you watched the marvelous body disappear and returned to the main page of the album. Clicking the next one, there was no way for you to control the full-body jerk as you yelped in shock. Nails digging into the arm of the rolling chair, you stared at a pair of eyes that you recognized. There was no forgetting the wicked gleam that had danced across them as his hands had ran across your body, not when it occupied the majority of your dreams.

When your eyes fell on the checkmark next to PDA, you sank back bonelessly into your chair, pressing a hand to your mouth as you stared at the picture of the man who had brought you to an explosive orgasm in a nightclub bathroom. Hand moving almost of its own freewill, the pointer hovered over the ‘Hire’ button, hesitation creeping in.

Did you really want to hire an escort for your cousin’s wedding? It wouldn’t be the first time someone in your family had done the same thing. It was easier to pretend to be in a relationship than to lie about it.

Running a hand over your face, you gathered your courage and before you could talk yourself out of it, you clicked the small red button. After a few seconds, the screen changed back to the full bio, but your eyes were caught by the flashing screen at the bottom, offering ‘Video Chat’, the little green light next to it sending your heart beating a thousand miles a minute.

Almost as if you suddenly had no control over your hand, you watched in slight horror as your finger hit the mouse. Heart stopping and lodging itself in your throat, you tossed back the rest of the whiskey, making a face as the pleasant burn made its way down until it settled as a pleasant burn in your belly. After a second of staring at your own face as the call rang, you pulled the elastic from your hair on a whim, long hair tumbling over your shoulders, scalp screaming in relief after hours with the bun.

A slight crackle in your speakers was the only warning you had before the eyes that haunted your dreams were on your screen, and all words died in your throat. When surprise flitted across his face before he schooled it back to the mask you were familiar with, you couldn’t help the small smirk that crossed your lips as you leaned forward, chin resting on the back of your hand, elbow propped up on the desk.

“Surprise.” You couldn’t help the breathiness to your voice, nor could you hide the small chuckle at the end of the word, and when his full lips quirked up in a laugh, you grinned and winked. Marveling at your own boldness, you tilted your head to the side, showing the pale column, sublty reminding him of the marks he’d left with great joy.

-_-_-_-_-

He had almost declined the video call, something that would have cost him his hearing after his manager lectured him for hours on end. He’d honestly been surprised to see that someone had hired his services so late at night, the usual prime time long since passed. Not minutes after he’d received the email informing him of the new engagement, his computer had trilled at him, signaling the request for a video.

Glancing down at the satin pajama shirt, he shrugged and ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even more as he clicked on the green button. Waiting as the screen loaded, Hyungwon turned his attention to his phone, scrolling through the details, an eyebrow raising as he scanned briefly over the information, a sense of familiarity creeping in. When the connection was finally established, there was no preparing for the shock he felt when he met your eyes, that tantalizing quirk of the lips bringing the memory of those lips around him front and center. There was no stopping the sudden heat in his veins, and when you tilted your neck, showing off the neck he’d marked so thoroughly, he stifled a groan as his pants tightened and his dick hardened.

“Surprise.” You whispered over the speakers, and he couldn’t help the answering chuckle as he settled back into the chair, a hand slipping down to palm himself through his pants.

“I was hoping you’d find the card.” he admitted, watching as you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Very smooth of you, slipping that into my purse.” Watching as you slid your tongue over your lips, he mentally smirked as you fought to remain serious and he remembered your need to be in control.

Yet, you had relinquished it so sweetly to him and the thought that maybe this was a bad idea crossed his mind. Personal connections with clients was frowned upon, yet the way you slid into business mode had him wanting to see you lose control even more. The fact that you had absolutely blown his mind with your mouth had nothing to do with his desire to see you again.

“I’m assuming you received the information I filled out.”

Sliding back into work-mode himself, Hyungwon reached for his phone at your words, paying more attention to the information this time around, an eyebrow raising.

“You read my requirements?” he asked, setting the phone down, wondering what he’d gotten himself into, wondering at the anger in the pit of his belly at the thought of your ex, but then you nodded, a low humming sound catching his attention as you tapped a finger against your mouth, lost in thought.

His cock swelled as thoughts of you on your knees, that same hum low in your thoat came unbidden to his mind, and he smothered a groan, adjusting his heavy erection as you spoke, eyes focused on something off screen.

-_-_-_-

Clenching your thighs together as you caught his movement in the lower half of the screen, you forced yourself to remain professional, calling upon years of needing to remain straight faced even as your body remembered everything he’d done with crystal clarity.

As you set up dates to meet before the wedding, you couldn’t help but be drawn to the deep v of his nightshirt, the material hanging off his body in such a way that you couldn’t help but want to tear it off, his skin practically calling out for you to sink your teeth in. Your feminine pride definitely got a boost when you noticed that his eyes were stuck on your cleavage, and you recognized the tightness to the corner of his mouth.

After going over the necessary details of what you needed, basically the ‘Attentive Boyfriend’ package specifically tailored towards your desire to stick it to your ex, all it took was a trailing finger over your collarbones to have Hyungwon shifting in his seat again, hand going down to his lap once again. Glad to be done with the serious part, you paused, an eyebrow raising as Hyungwon sucked in his bottom lip, eyes following your fingers. Throwing caution to the wind, you slid a strap of the camisole off your shoulder, grinning when he let out a sharp breath.

“Take it off.”

Smirking at the look that crossed his face, you waited, knowing from experience that he preferred to be the one in control. Even though you knew he could make your body sing like a canary if he so wanted, you were drunk off the excitement of the moment and you wanted to savor the feeling of being in charge. He seemed to know this, and his eyes were dark as he slid button after button out of their hole, your mouth going try as he exposed his body, kicking his chair back so you could see all of him.

Sitting back in your own chair, you slid your own hand down your body, mirroring the hand he ran down his own body, and when he glanced at you, fingers playing with the edge of his pants, you smirked, raising an eyebrow. With a deep chuckle that you felt in your cunt, he lifted his hips, sliding his pants down just enough for his erection to slip free and slap up against his lower belly.

“You gonna charge me extra for this?” you asked, voice hoarse as you slid your fingers through your coarse curls, wetness clinging to them as you teased yourself.

“Consider this my gift to you.” his own voice was thick with desire as his long fingers wrapped around his length, sliding up and down. Marveling at the length, your eyes were drawn to the bead of precum that dangled from the tip, tongue peeking out of your mouth as you had the sudden desire to taste it, wondering if your memory was as good as you thought it was.

“How generous of you.” you couldn’t help the quip from falling from your lips, the resulting chuckle from the man currently sliding his hand up and down his hard cock in a languid rhythm making you suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against your clit, already hyper-sensitized.

Eyes feasting on each other, you knew he remembered the night you’d met, the devilish gleam in his eyes as his chest rose and fell with each pant as he stroked himself. Sliding a hand under your camisole, fingers finding a hard nipple with relative ease, there was no stopping the moan that fell from your lips as your head fell back, the pleasure sending electric shocks though your body.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” the gravely tone to his voice had you glancing at the man on the screen through your eyelashes, pants coming faster as you saw his hand flying on his cock, his own eyes heavily lidded as he stared at you bringing pleasure to yourself. “I’m close.” he warned and you shook your head.

“Not yet.”

He’d seen you begging, and the need to see him in the same boat took over, and before you could rethink it, you slid the camisole up and over your head, exposing your lace covered breasts, fingers playing with a barely covered nipple. Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you swallowed a whimper when Hyungwon groaned, his head tilting backwards, exposing his long neck. Mesmerized by the twiching muscles in his abdomen, you hissed as you spread your legs, a finger slipping into you while your thumb didn’t let up on its assault on your clit.

“Please.”

The word was a low whine, and with eyes glued to the angry, red cock in his hand, you shook your head. Your own orgasm was on the brink, but you wanted to see how long you could make him wait. It was the game you two had played, his hand over your mouth to keep your moans from letting anyone know he’d snuck you into the mens bathroom. You could see his nails digging into his muscular thigh as he edged himself right along with you, and there was a dark gleam in his eyes that promised payback as he stared into the camera. The low light played with the shadows on his body as his whole body tensed, lanky muscles rippling as he fought off his orgasm at your request.

It was enough to send you over the edge, a low keening moan slipping from your lips as you plunged two fingers into your wetness, thumb and forefinger pinching a nipple, the electric shocks spreading through your body as your mind blanked, the sound of Hyungwon groaning your soundtrack as your mind went to outer space and back.

When you finally caught your breath, a breathy chuckle was all you could manage, body falling into the languid state you cherished. Opening your eyes, you caught the smirk that crossed his full lips, hooded eyes doing nothing to hide the satisfaction he was feeling, and you knew you looked the same exact way. His release lay cooling on his belly, hand still on his still hard cock, not showing any signs of deflating.

Feeling confident and sexual, you took the fingers that were coated in your juices, sliding them between your lips, making sure he could see your tongue cleaning them. His smirk only deepened, and to your delight, his cock twitched in his hand. His own chest was heaving as he breathed hard, and his chest glistened with sweat, shining and beckoning you to his body like a beacon of pure sex.

“See you at noon on the 12th?” you asked, voice low and husky, drawing a laugh from his pillowy lips as he straightened up, body moving sinously as he grabbed tissue from beside the computer.

“See you at noon.”

A quick wink before you shut down the video call, his laughter ringing in your ears, you closed your laptop before gathering your legs under you and moving to your bed, the large mattress and extremely comfortable comforter calling to you like a siren calls a pirate. It was a small smile that you shucked the rest of your undergarments, sliding between the sheets as naked as the day you were born.

There was no doubt in your mind that this wedding was going to be interesting.

#christeewrites #hyungwon #monsta x fic #monsta x #smut #hyungwon smut #someones someone

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sonipanda · 5 years

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I have teamed up with a great company, who are now selling Penti in the UK! I got my pairs before (reviewed below) when I visited Turkey, and I have to say they are hard to get hold of.

I have to admit I was slacking this year with love heart tights for Valentine’s as I chose to do vintage nylons instead. However I got sent this lovely pair to do a review on, with a cute design so let’s get blogging!

If you missed my previous Penti reviews, check out the links below (opens in a new tab):

Penti Leg Spa & Yok Gibi Knee High Socks (Double Review)

Penti Trendy Polka Dot Tights

Penti Nude Mat 20 Tights

The Spec

Colour: Black

Size: 1/2 – S/M

Denier: 30

Materials: 80% Polyamide 14%Polypropylene 6%Elastane

Price: £9.50

Website: FashionTight – Penti Heartmania Fashion Tights

* 15% Off Discount: SoniPanda *

My Outfit

I went super casual and cosy with my outfit today. I paired up my roll neck jumper with some basic white pumps. I wanted to do boots, but as I was rushing around I switched into these instead and brought the outfit to life!

My Deets

Jumper: George

Tights: Penti

Pumps: Primark

The Review

From The Website: Are you ready to create stylish and attractive combinations with Heartmania Pantyhose?

Taking the form of your legs with its flexible texture, Heartmania Pantyhose helps your legs look more attractive without slipping during the day, thanks to the pattern that fits well on the body.

The heart patterns on it add movement to the Heartmania Pantyhose. You can safely choose Heartmania Pantyhose, which offers a combination of elegance and comfort, thanks to its quality that is resistant to escape.

You can create eye-catching combinations by wearing Heartmania Tights with your skirts and dresses! Soft to the touch, perfect for all day comfort, are simply amazing!

Features a sleek shaping panty for extra smoothing and a Slim-Fit tights that creates a nice silhouette. Available in two sizes Thanks to the particular characteristics of the material and the construction, these tights effectively contour the stomach, hips and buttocks. Cotton gusset and invisible toes. All products in this exclusive line feature sandal toes to allow them to be worn in peep toe shoes. The quality, the style, and the classic color makes these tights perfect for your wardrobe collection. Recommended care instructions: Hand Wash inside out, No Bleaching, No ironing, No dry cleaning, No tumble dry. Item specifics

Color : Black heart pattern

Composition : 80% Polyamide 14%Polypropylene 6%Elastane

Package Includes: 3 x Pantyhose .Three Pairs of High Waist Tights

Thickness: 30 DEN

Reinforced Toe: Extra strong toe area, which reduces laddering, extending the product life.

Made in Turkey. High quality Turkish textile.

The Packaging: is pretty eye-catching I have to say. You have the model wearing the tights on the front, which covers most of the right side. It also states the brand name, model and the denier too. The back goes into a little more detail about the pair, sizing guide and hosiery care.

When you get in, you will find these wrapped around promotional card, and flat folded so you get no leg or foot shaping.

Getting Them On: as these are a duo size, I had a lot of stretch in them, which meant I didn’t need to tug these up the legs. I could just loosely pull them up the legs and then set in place.

They were fine going over anklets as long as you take care when rolling over them.

On The Legs: so let me start of with mentioning the ‘darker patches on the legs. This tends to occur when you have more material gathering in one place than spread out on the legs. If these were XS-S, I wouldn’t have had an issue, but as these are S-M and are slightly long for me, I couldn’t tug them up the legs to give it a proper fitted finish. This resulted in patches where it’s darker on the leg as it doesn’t have anywhere else to go apart from wrinkling at my ankles (I refused to let that happen).

I also did notice that I manages to snag these super easy during the day. They didn’t catch onto anything, but I manages to just scrape my legs against something slightly rough and there you have it. Luckily I only ended up with a few discreet ones!

The fit of these are ok; a little on the bigger side for me, so I would say these run slightly large. Perfect for those who are slightly bigger in size as these would fit so well and you wouldn’t experience the ‘darker patching’ on the legs at all.

The feel of them are pretty rough; they are a complete matte pair and don’t have a smooth finish to them. This isn’t a bad thing, but something to note if that is what you look for in a pair. I felt the matte finish works well with the heart design.

The design itself is super cute; I love the red hearts scattered around the legs. I wish they were at the back too; they’re only on the front and up to the knees so the thigh is left plain black. You may find them not all symmetrical and in shape just to forewarn you!

The Toes & Ankle: these have a thin reinforced toe going across the front and back of the feet. These just about cover my toenails, which is great if you’re not a fan of larger reinforcements. It’s barely noticeable as well, hence why I had to stretch it out for you to see.

Around the feet and ankles, I managed to get a smooth fitted finish, however if these actually sat properly on the legs, they would be at the ankles wrinkling away.

The Waistband & Gusset: so the band is pretty slim, sits around the waist and holds the tights up well throughout the day. That is one bonus point to these. However, I did find them rolling down quite a bit during the day, which then started to bug me slightly. Luckily I wasn’t wearing anything fitted so you couldn’t see it through my clothing.

The band is elasticated well and it hugs the waist like I wanted it to. It is certainly a comfort band as I hardly felt it on whilst I was on the move, which I really did like.

The gusset is quite large in the middle of the tights, and is cotton so you have the option to wear with or without underwear too.

Oh before I forget to mention, these have reinforced boxer briefs to them, working from the band down to the top thigh. This was going to sit lower on my legs, but as I hiked them up a tad, they sat where they were supposed to in the end.

My Thoughts?

So overall not a bad pair to have to be honest, but this is a pair I can’t see lasting to be honest. They look lovely, they fit ok on my legs and they have plenty of stretch to them, but I feel they could have been slightly better. I would still recommend them for sure as I loved the design on them!

Penti Heartmania Fashion Tights I have teamed up with a great company, who are now selling Penti in the UK! I got my pairs before (

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