#i have a longer black velvet skirt that i love

[ablazeinhim]

I have such a problem with "semi-formal" designations for event attire because I am always ok being overdressed to a casual thing, but don't want to be the person too dressed down at the gig.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Captured.

A Continuation of This Piece.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader x Yandere!Gojo (JJK).

Word Count: 3.3k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Dub/Con -> Non/Con, Implied Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Threesomes, The Pervasive Aire of Homoerotica, Slight Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Violence, Intimidation, and Biting. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

He let you wait outside while he booked a room. It was a test, obviously – to see if you’d try and run as soon as he let you out of his sight. You didn’t. You kept your back pressed against the peeling cement wall and your hands in your pockets as the man at the front desk screamed, as you listened to the slick sounds of carnage and Geto’s muffled laughter. By the time he came out, his clothes dotted with dark stains and his hands lathered in the same dripping scarlet, you thought you might’ve been too sick for whatever he wanted to do with you.

He held up a hand, two keys and their accompanying plastic tags hanging from each finger. “Pick a number, one through ten.”

You just wanted to get this over with. Then, you wouldn’t have to worry about monsters or mysterious men or any of this ever again. “Eight.”

“Oh, the honeymoon suite.” Your eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side. “Kidding, kidding. That’ll have to wait, for now.”

The room was nicer than you’d expected. Not quite the oppressively beige monstrosity you’d feared, but not as far from the eye-bleedingly pink love hotel that’d be the permanent backdrop in your worst nightmares as you would’ve liked. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed with faux-velvet sheets, staring at your feet as Geto washed his hands in the in-suite bathroom. So lost in your own spiraling thoughts, you didn’t notice the water shutting off, didn’t hear him approaching you until the mattress dipped at your side and a pair of hands came to rest on either side of your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, you were hauled into his lap, left to balance on his thigh as his eyes raked over you unabashedly. “You should try to relax. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid of me.” His hand fell to the hem of your sweater. You’d gotten dressed in a blind panic after waking up to an apartment crawling with those awful things, but now, you regretted not throwing on as many layers as you could, not putting as many barriers as you could between yourself and the feeling of his calloused fingers skirting over your skin. “I can help take the edge off, if you’d like.”

For the first time that day, you felt a spark of relief. “Do you have anything? I’m alright with pills.”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of…” His hand splayed over your stomach, his tone laced with a dark edge. “Choking you until you black-out, then having my way with your helpless body?”

“Oh.” Just as quickly, that spark was extinguished – crushed under an unforgiving heel and stamped into total nonexistence. “I… I think I’d rather be awake, thank you.”

He hummed, tapping two fingers against your hip. “Have it your way, little one.”

Without warning, you were thrown onto the center of the bed. Before you could haul yourself up, before you could fully realize what was going on, Geto was between your open legs, mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh and his hands tearing at your shorts. The flimsy material gave away easily, and your panties didn’t last much longer. You took back what you’d said about wearing less revealing clothes; making this take any longer than it already did would’ve been torture. As deftly as he worked, the knot of dread forming in your chest was faster, quickly overshadowing every rational thought you might’ve had in favor of telling you that you weren’t supposed to be here, that this was dangerous, that you didn’t know what was going on, that you—

His broad tongue laved over your now-exposed slit, and your panicked mind went completely blank. His mouth was hot, and he didn’t waste time, latching onto your clit and sucking before you could think to push him away. Your body, nerves fried by adrenaline and senses dialed up to the point of hypersensitivity, responded immediately, your back arching as you struggled to swallow back a fractured moan. He encouraged your reactions, laving over your clit as two of his fingers found their way to your now-dripping entrance.

His digits slipped into you without resistance, scissoring apart and splitting you open as your own hands balled around the sheets, as you locked your jaw into place and did what little you could swallow back any sounds that’d make you seem more pathetic than you already were. Your pitiful attempts at resistance earned a throaty chuckle that reverberated against your clit and made your thighs clench together. Vaguely, in the distance, you felt his hand curl around your ankle, then you were being bent in half, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he ate you out like a man starved. It was all you could do to keep your eyes shut, the tears that would’ve escaped otherwise safely locked away, to make sure you didn’t kick or thrash or do anything that’d make him decide you’d be more entertaining after you’d been half-mauled by one of his monsters. It was all you could do to keep your mind blank, to block out the terrible, wet noises rising up from between your thighs, to—

The door creaked as it swung open, and you scrambled to pull away from Geto, to cover yourself before someone saw you being brought to the brink of climax by a murderer. He held you in place, though, his grip turning vice-like as he kept you splayed-open and on-display for the familiar, white-haired stranger now standing in the doorway. “Satoru,” Geto started, still idly pumping his fingers into you. “How kind of you to join—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, Gojo had him pinned to the far wall, a small crater blown into the cement where the point of collision would’ve been. You could see an orb of blinding, blue light forming in his other hand, but Geto only clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Keep your dick in your pants, pervert,” he purred, eyes flitting to you. “There are innocents nearby.”

The orb of light disappeared, but Gojo didn’t move. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”

You watched a first form at Geto’s side, watched in a daze as his knuckles collided with Gojo’s cheek with enough force to send him flying across the room and into the side of the bed, fracturing the steel frame. “Me neither, ‘toru.”

Letting out a ragged exhale, Gojo pushed himself to his feet and their conversation devolved into a rush of blows and kicks and insults half-finished before Gojo’s fist collided with Geto’s chin or Geto caught Gojo’s throat in his teeth. Clothes were torn, blood spilled across cheap carpeting, and you blinked once, twice, before shaking your head and hauling yourself up and taking stock of the situation.

They were fighting. Eventually, one of them would probably win, and that winner would probably want to fuck you. Maybe, after that, one of them would also help you. Maybe.

Gojo caught Geto’s hair in his fist and pulled. You could’ve sworn you heard Geto moan.

Okay. Alright. Yeah. No. Fuck this, actually.

Slowly, careful not to make a sound, you stood up and pulled your sweater down to cover your still dripping cunt before inching towards the door which was, surprisingly, still in one piece (it would dawn on you later that Geto must’ve left it unlatched, if not open, much to your delayed mortification). You could figure something else out. There were two other people who knew about your monsters, which meant there must’ve been at least one more. Gojo had been wearing a uniform, when you first met him, running for your life from the mangled mess of teeth and claws that’d managed to sink its talons into you, and you thought you’d heard him mention a school. You could find someone else, someone who wouldn’t ask for sex, someone who wouldn’t know your name before you introduced yourself, someone who’d give you a protective charm or a talisman and then demand for money or unpaid labor in return. You could—

It felt like vertigo, like the surface of the Earth had shifted underneath you. Your body tilted, collapsed, and then Gojo’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed into your back and his fingers burrowed into the flesh of your side. “Trying to get away?” His voice was raspy. Geto must’ve gotten his throat. “That’s not very nice.”

“You were the one who burst in uninvited and distracted me,” Geto muttered. His lip was busted, and he cracked his nose back into place as he hauled himself up from the floor. “If you hadn’t interrupted us, they’d still be cumming on my tongue so adorably.”

Gojo didn’t seem to pay him any mind. His attention remained fixed on you, his free hand drifting to your vulnerable pussy. Using his thumb, he gathered some of the slick staining your inner thighs, toying with it as he spoke. “I thought the first time I touched you like this would be more romantic.” He paused, his ears ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Or, the first time I touched you while you were awake, at least. It… it got harder to control myself, toward the end.”

You snapped to Geto, teeth bared. “This wasn’t what we agreed to. I don’t want to—”

“Don’t talk to him.” His fingers slipped into you, curling against the walls of your cunt. Your breath hitched in your chest, and Gojo pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “Don’t look at him. He’s not supposed to be here.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Satoru.” Stretching his back, he made his way back to the bed and collapsed onto it, letting out a strained groan. “If I hadn’t been so kind as to donate all of those very valuable, very hard-to-come-by curses to your pitiful cause, you would’ve waited… how long? Another year before so much as breathing the same air as your little crush?” His half-lidded stare met yours, and he smirked. “You should have a taste. The poor thing is heavenly when they’re scared.”

“He’s always been this bossy. I’m sorry you had to deal with him on your own.” Gojo drew back, but didn’t let you go. Rather, he looped an arm under your knees and pulled you off your feet, carrying you back to that fucking bed. He laid you out with more care than Geto had, but his expression remained uncannily blank. He’d been blindfolded the first time you’d met, and whatever eyewear he’d come with had been either removed or torn away, revealing eyes that were almost painfully blue. The only mercy was his hair – long enough to fall over his face and obscure his empty gaze, his parted lips. His hand drifted to your injured leg, still bandaged from the knee down, and his lips quirked downward. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt, too. But…” He smiled, leaned in until his forehead rested against yours. “It’s good that we’ll get to be together, right?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him to stop touching you, to let you go home, but you couldn’t go home, so you said nothing.

Geto let out an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t put this little reunion together because I wanted to hear you talk, ‘toru.”

“See what I mean? So fucking bossy.” And yet, one of his hands fell away from you. You heard fabric rustle, metal clink, and then his cock was free, prodding against the inside of your thigh. You could feel your heart drop into your stomach as your eyes broke away from his and raked over his pale shaft, his flushed head, already leaking beads of ivory precum. He was tall. They were both massive, but nothing attached to a human being should’ve been that big. “You’re lucky I’m letting you watch.”

“Who said I’d be watching?” So preoccupied by your own terror, you didn’t notice Geto shifting until you felt his hands on your sides, then at the hem of your sweater, pulling your only remaining protection over your head. You scrambled to stop him, but there wouldn’t have been much you could to do fend him off at your best, let alone in the state you’d been reduced to tonight. With a breathy chuckle, he finished stripping you down, his attention immediately falling to your chest. “You wouldn’t want me leaving you alone with him, would you, little one?” He bowed his head, catching your nipple with his teeth and pulling harshly. A pained whine slipped past your lips before you could choke it back, and he turned towards Gojo, grinning. “See? They like me.”

Whatever rage Gojo felt, he managed to bury it beneath a soft smile, a pulse of pure electricity in his eyes as he took his cock in his hand, dragging the tip over your entrance. You thrashed, kicked, fought, but he only cooed as he thrust into you, like he was trying to comfort you. Like you would need to be comforted if he just stopped.

He bottomed out, his hips pressing into yours with a blissful sigh, and you lurched forward, moving to claw at his eyes, to wrap your hands around his throat, to do something. Geto caught your wrists before you could so much as touch him, though – laughing as he forced your arms flush against the mattress. As Gojo started to move in earnest, Geto slotted his lips against yours, taking advantage of your distress to force his tongue into your mouth while Gojo fucked you open, whatever gentleness he’d been attempting to show you falling away in favor of burying himself that much deeper in your tight heat. As soon as Geto pulled away, Gojo took his place, his kiss not quite as aggressive but no less invasive, no less unwelcome. You should’ve never left your apartment. You should’ve never run from your monsters. At least they might’ve been kind enough to kill you quickly.

By the time he broke away from you, your vision was spotted with black, your lungs aching from a lack of oxygen. Jerkily, he straightened his back and raised a hand, his fingers soon tangled in Geto’s hair. You watched in a daze as teeth clashed against teeth and lips collided with a bruising force, and considered the terrifying possibility that you might’ve been the first person either of them had ever kissed.

Gojo’s pace turned erratic, his hold on your hip crushing. His pelvic bone caught on your clit every time he thrust into you. You’d been able to control yourself when faced with Geto’s teasing, but now, every little cracked moan and pained whimper slid past your lips, barely audible above the sound of slick squelching and skin slapping against skin. Unwillingly, you clenched around him, and Gojo doubled over with a throaty groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You felt his mouth on your throat, then his teeth, sinking into your skin deep enough to draw blood. You clenched your eyes shut, willing your body to go numb to the pain, to ignore the coil of pure agony winding tighter in your core, but Geto caught your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and stare up at him. “Trying to run away again so soon?”

“S-stop,” you half-sobbed, trying to pry his hand away from your face. “Don’t touch me—”

“We’ll have to bring a gag along, next time. That is, unless you learn to be more appreciative.” He shrugged his sweatpants below his waist, wrapping his fist around his cock and guiding it to your lips. “Open up, little one.”

You grit your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as tightly as you could, but Gojo bit down on your collarbone and you screamed, jerking against him. Geto took advantage of your misery, slipping a thumb into your mouth and prying your teeth apart, forcing his cock down your throat. “Bite down,” he muttered, voice low and tone sharpened, “and I’ll make sure he knocks you up.”

A wave of cold dread washed over you, but you didn’t have time to linger on your newly realized fear. Geto was already fucking your skull, already leaving you struggling not to choke as you tried to remember how to breathe around him. Where Gojo was uncontrolled, Geto almost seemed… unaffected, holding your head in place while he rolled his hips with the idle pace of a man determined to milk every second he could out of you. It was unbearable; the burning in your throat, the heat in your core, the feeling of Gojo battering into your cunt until you couldn’t stop your legs from twitching, your back from arching, your pussy from clenching around Gojo’s length and drawing a sinful noise from somewhere deep in his chest. You let out a ragged moan half-suffocated by Geto’s cock, and then you were coming undone around him, your body convulsing underneath his. Gojo wasn’t far behind. With a hitched groan, he pressed his hips into yours and pushed another open-mouthed kiss into your neck, making no attempt to pull out before flooding your pussy with something thick and awful.

Geto wasn’t far behind, his eyes falling shut as he came down your throat. For the longest time, neither of them moved, Geto forcing you to choke down every last drop of his cum while Gojo stare down at you, eyes blank and lips parted, his expression caught somewhere between tender and awe-struck.

Finally, he glanced away from you, looking to Geto instead. “Let’s switch. I want to feel their mouth.”

Geto let out a breath of a chuckle. With your body limp, your jaw slack, he pulled away from you, leaning just close enough to let his lips brush against your temple before straightening his back and moving to take Gojo’s place between your legs. “Whatever you say, lover boy.”

~

Hours later, when your skin was little more than a patchwork of hickeys and bruises and you couldn’t feel anything save for a constant, excruciating ache in your cunt, Geto had fallen asleep with his arm around your waist and Gojo laid next to you, head propped on his fist and a soft smile painted across his lips. You could see the sun starting to rise from behind the thin motel curtains, feel the dread that accompanied being in a strange place with strange men at a strange time, but it all seemed secondary, pushed to a distance by your exhaustion, your devastation. When Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you out of Geto’s hold, all you could summon was a whine of protest, and even that was quickly glazed over with an airy laugh, a quiet hush.

Geto’s shirt (discarded three hours in, when he stepped aside for a shower while Gojo made you cum on his tongue for the fourth time) was pulled over your head, Gojo’s glasses (lost in the initial fight, found briefly while Geto was bouncing you on his cock with one hand and jerking Gojo off with the other, then lost again) snagged off the floor and pocketed. As he slipped out of the beaten motel door, you shut your eyes against the dim light, burying your face in his chest, and he encouraged you to, cupping the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss into your forehead. With his lips still lingering against your skin, he spoke, his voice muffled by his proximity. “It’s alright. You can sleep, if you need to.”

It might’ve been sweeter, if you hadn’t been able to feel every inch of his smile cutting into your skin.

“I promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”

[writteninkat]

Corporate Heat | Endeavor x Reader

synopsis: Stern, commanding, and dominant— these are a few of the many characteristics of him that had you falling head over heels. Powerful, proud, and uncompromising are why you try your damnest to hide your desires. But when he makes the first move, you're unable to think of the consequences lying ahead in your future.

wc: 1.9k

warnings: smut(fingering, exhibition, unprotected sex, belittling, choking)

a/n: not proofread

navigation

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" The announcer's voice echoes throughout the hall. "Welcome to an evening of unparalleled elegance and exclusivity, where the rarest treasures and finest luxuries await your discerning eye."

The velvet fabric over the soft foam dips from side to side as you squirm uncomfortably. The tangent you just went on about how your boss should act may actually be the worst decision you've ever made. Now, his gaze is costantly jumping from the announcer and back to you, lingering a bit longer on you.

A warm, calloused hand presses on your thigh exposde by the slit of your dress. Your squirming immediately comes to a hault, recognizing the owner of said hand.

"Stop moving. What's wrong?" Endeavor's voice rumbles softly beside you making your breathing stutter.

"Nothing- I just-" Fuck. "I'm not used to wearing stuff like this."

It's not a lie, you're always wearing your button-up blouse and pencil skirt whenever you're around your boss.

Endeavor turns his head at you, eyes directed right into yours. "You look beautiful." All the energy in your brain seems to have shifted to your heart as it beats rapidly against your rib cage. "So stop worrying about it."

Stop worrying? You bitch! Stop giving me a heartattck first!

"I don't feel beautiful."

Oh boohoo you stupid bitch! Cry me a river! The man just complimented you and now you're putting up a sad girl act?

Endeavor's eyes narrow into slits as you feel his hand slowly move towards your inner thigh. Your eyes widen, nails digging into the soft velvet cover of the couch.

"I've noticed a few things about you." He states, fingers brushing back and forth, teasing you.

"Y-Yeah? What things?" You wanna bang your head against the wall for stuttering.

"On your first day, you wore dress pants." His hand slowly inches down the side of your knee, before moving back up.

"Black ones. Then on your second day, you wore a pencil skirt." His thumb draws lazy circles against your skin.

Well yeah, I saw you on that first day and immediately wanted your attention. I didn't know how else to do it!

"And with every week that passed, your skirt grew smaller and smaller." His hand inches up your thigh, disappearing underneath your dress. "Until one day, it was so short that when you dropped a few documents I told you to take," Your core grows hotter and wetter with every inch his hand takes, pulsing and swelling at the fact that he's close- so close. "When you bent down to take them, I saw you wore yellow panties that day."

Your eyes widen as your lips part. He looked.

"And the next day, you wore blue ones." His fingers tease you as they ghost right infront of your cunt. He's not exactly touching it- his finger tips simply grazing every now and then.

"But I gotta say, I love the color you've got on tonight." With that, he presses his thumb against your soaked panties, moving up and down. You suck in a breath, your back arching as your nerves burn with ecstacy. "Red looks beautiful on you."

Your thighs shake as they close on each other, effectively trapping his hand between them. You look up at him, out of breath as you hips move slightly, having a mind of their own.

"You wanted me to see them, didn't you?" Despite being trapped, his thumb continues massaging your clit. Pleasure burns your skin as your hand flies to his- unsure whether it's to stop him or keep him there.

"Wanted me to see the different colors you craved to be ripped off of you?" Your fingers squeeze his meaty forearms as your teeth sink onto your bottom lip.

"You wanna act like a slut for me?" His question is followed by his other hand pulling your thigh towards him, showcasing the crimson lacy thong you have on tonight. "Then be a good one and keep your legs open."

Your body falls to the side, your elbow propping you up as your boss hooks his forearm under your thigh, keeping your clothed cunt free.

He climbs on top of you, hand pressed up against the couch's arm as he hooks your panties to the right. "Fucking Christ," He breathes, "You're soaked like the good whore you are."

He pushes a finger in, making your eyes roll back. His digit is thick and rough, the sensation causing goodebumps to scatter across your skin.

He slowly pumps his ring finger in and out of you as his thumb presses circles on your clit. Your brows furrow as your lips create an O.

Close, so fucking close!

Your hips begin moving once more, trying to match his pace.

A little more! Fuck!

"Eyes on me." He snaps you back into reality, the commanding tone of his voice forcing your eyes on his. His orb the color of sea captures you, pulling from reality. Right now, it's just the both of you floating through space. No responsibilities, no consequences.

Endeavor lowers his head, his lips pressing against your clothed breast before biting on the material, pulling your tube down. He flicks his pink tongue over the swollen bud of your nipple, a zing of surprise jolting down your spine as you tip over the edge, falling helplessly into the sea of your orgasm.

The hero presses his free palm over your mouth, effectively muffling your cries of pleasure until you finish, limbs twitching as a single tear drips from the corner of your eye. He moves towards your ear, hot breath fanning over the shell.

"Shut the fuck up or we'll get caught. I'm not done with you." He grits, sliding his hand from your mouth and on your neck, fingers tightening around your lifeline. One good squeeze and you're gone.

He roughly pulls his finger out of your soaking cunt, shoving it inside your mouth. "Taste yourself. Good?" His digit touches the back of your throat, making you choke.

His jaw ticks as his hold on your neck tightens. "What the fuck did I just say?"

You try your best to relax your throat, thinking about something else, anything else to take your mind off the digit you're swallowing.

Endeavor smirks, "That's my good slut."

He pulls his hand from your mouth, fiddling with his belt and pants. You look down, gasping when your gaze catches his member.

Fuck, that's huge.

I mean, he's already a tall and big man, but holy fuck!

Your eyes quickly return to his, brows furrowing in worry. "It- you won't fit!" You whisper, the hero chuckling at your distress.

"You're gonna have to make it fit, sweetheart."

Your brows knit in confusion this time. He takes you by surprise when he lifts you by the hold on your neck, sitting you on his lap.

"Ride me like a good whore." He commands.

You look down once again at his member standing straight between the both of you, questioning your actions.

Does it look mouthwatering? Yes.

Are you starting to regret this? Maybe- but you're leaning towards no.

Do you wanna stop? Absolutely not.

But will he fit?

You raise your hips, Endeavor taking your tit in his mouth, sucking on the sensitive bud.

I guess we'll see.

His bulbous head presses against your entrance and you can already tell this one's gonna hurt. Slowly, you lower yourself, taking deep breaths and focusing on the hero's tongue swirling around your nipple.

"Oh- fuck!" You gasp, begging your walls to make room for him. You lift yourself up a little, giving yourself room to breathe before resuming your journey down.

"Taking too damn long." He mutters, stunning you when he pushes your hips down. His cock fills you completely, making it difficult to breathe.

The hero doesn't give you time to voice out your reaction when his lips press against yours, his tongue pushing through them. You mewl and whimper against his hot mouth as he lifts you by your waist before slamming you back down.

"Fuck, you're a good cocksleeve. So fucking tight." He grits out, pressing wet, hot kisses all over your jaw and neck. He nibbles on a spot, his control on your body unrelenting.

Your head falls back the moment discomfort blends into pleasure, your hair falling back. You begin to ride your boss yourself when a rough hand squeezes your jaw forcefully, "I said to keep your eyes on me."

You nod, your hips moving at a faster pace. Your hands settle on his wide shoulders, allowing you a better balance. Your hips move back and forth, up and down, and in circles until you begin to feel your climax at your finger tips.

"Fuck yeah, let your tits bounce as you ride my cock." Endeavor breathes out, taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it harshly. Your teeth sink onto your bottom lip at the slight pain, your orgasm pushing closer to you with every sting you receive.

"Heavens," He prays, looking up at you. "Fuck, tell me your on birth control." You nod.

That does something to the hero. He curses roughly before pulling you on the couch, lying you on your back. He takes you by your thighs, lifting your lower body up his hips before fucking you with abandon.

"You're ruining every other pussy for me, baby." You gasp at his words, sinking your teeth on the back of your hand before it's being pushed away, replaced by his lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling the hero closer as he continues abusing your cunt. You pull your lips away from his, breathing on his ear. "I'm gonna cum!" You whisper.

"Milk my cock like the slut you are. Every drop is yours, baby." He chokes against your ear.

With one last pinch on your nipple, you sink your teeth onto the side of his neck, muffling your pleasurable moans. You hear him grunt before feeling his cock twitch inside you. Endeavor grabs a fistful of your tit, pushing his hips into you deeply and roughly one last time before the feeling of hot liquid poured into you forces a blindsiding orgasm out of you.

You back arches as your legs shake around his waist. You claw at his suit and your mind blanks from the overstimulation. With your breathing erratic, you ride out your deafening orgasm for a few moments, slowly returning to reality.

Out of breath and uncomfortably sweaty, you let go of Endeavor and fall back onto the couch. The hero's chest rises and falls just as rapidly as yours. He slowly pulls out, making your body flinch.

"Fuck, your pussy looks so pretty dripping with my cum." He exhales, making you turn to the side with your hand on your mouth. Your cheeks burn of embarrassment now that the euphoric feeling has subsided.

Endeavor pulls your panties back in place, along with your dress. You sit up, thanking him silently before attempting to stand.

"Where are you going?" He asks, hand circled around your wrist. You look at him in confusion, "I'm gonna go clean up."

Endeavor narrows his eyes before pulling you back to his side. "Be a good girl and keep my cum inside you. I'll give you a reward after."

Maybe you should listen to the logical part of your brain that's yelling at you to go make sure you don't end up with that 1% the birth control pills are failing at.

That part is always fighting for her dignity wherever your boss is concerned.

But you wanna be a good girl for him. The curiousity of whatever your reward is wins against logic. You nod your head, sitting back down properly as Endeavor grunts in approval.

[danikamariewrites]

Just Us

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: part 2 is here! Although I don’t really like calling it a part two because I don’t see it as a series, I don’t have a better name for it so we’re just going to call it a series. I just see this as a universe with ongoing stories/one-shit fics and headcanons lol. Thank you for all the love this is getting though! I’m so happy so many of you want to be tagged for these posts ❤️

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist

Digging out another option from Mor’s closet I start to panic. Azriel will be here in two hours to pick me up and it feels like every part of me is sweating from nerves. I wipe my hands on my leggings so I can grip the velvet hanger better. I turn to face the chaos Mor and Feyre have created. 

Shoes from each of their closests and mine, eyeshadow pallets, and even more clothing options cover every inch of Mor’s bedroom. It’s all so…intimidating. I’ve been on dates before, but none of those guys were ever worth half the effort I’m putting in for Azriel. Which is probably why I’m freaking out more than normal. 

As I lay out the dress on Mor’s bed my ears finally pick up what Feyre is joyously rambling about. “And then Gavin just backed off. I have never him seen him humbled so fast Mor, oh my gods. It was hilarious.” A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. It was refreshing to see Gavin put in his place. Especially by someone like Azriel. 

I circle the bed eyeing my endless options for dresses. My attention lands on one of Feyre’s black velvet cocktail dresses. It has a corset type bodice with tank top straps and a pleated skirt. It’s perfect. 

Picking it up I break out into a wide grin. Feyre and Mor notice looking at me like proud parents. “What?” I ask with a slight giggle. “It’s just…you’re going on a real date. With a real man. I just feel so proud.” Mor squeaked out, wiping away fake tears. 

I shake my head letting out a shaky sigh. “I like this one, can I wear it, Fey?” “Of course babe. This is going to look amazing on you.” She starts gathering the other dresses as Mor begins to look for shoes to match. Sitting me on the bed Feyre grabs my face and purses her lips in thought. “How do you feel about a very light Smokey eye?” 

A knock on the front door - approximately two hours later - breaks my focus from applying mascara. “I’ll get it!” Mor yells from the living room. Just a few more strokes and I’ll be done. My hand shakes from anticipation. Maybe if I take longer he’ll get impatient and I won’t have to go. 

No, don’t think like that. I deserve a nice date. I shake my body and check myself over in the mirror one last time. I look hot thanks to my best friends' combined effort. “Ok,” I whisper. 

Heading out to the living room I can hear Mor and Feyre talking with him. Gods, I hope they’re avoiding embarrassing topics. When I round the corner my steps stutter. It’s not Azriel in the living room. It’s one of the males he brought into the gallery. The larger one of the two who winked at me. “There she is!” Mor said in a sing-song voice. 

I walk forward and the male reaches his hand out for me to shake. “Hi y/n, I’m Cassian.” I take his hand, his calluses are rough against my palm as I shake his hand. “Hi, I remember you from the gallery. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s Azriel?” I hate how small my voice sounds as I ask but I don’t want Cassian to feel like I’m not trusting him or his boss. Cassian smiles at me. “He’s already at the restaurant, he just sent me to pick you up.” I nod and say goodbye to Mor and Feyre before they push me out the door. 

Cassian opens the car door for me, taking my hand to help me up into the high SUV. I thank him before he shuts the door. The ride over to the restaurant was fast and quiet. I think Cassian could tell I’m nervous. When we pull up I notice the small parking lot was oddly empty. 

I audibly swallow, staring out the window at the front door. Cassian opens the door smiling at me with a boyish grin. “Cassian, can I ask you something?” “Sure thing.” Concern flashes across his face. The scar above his brow crinkling in. “I just…is he…” I can’t find the right words to ask my question correctly. Cassian seemed to pull himself up straighter. “I know you know his job but he’s not cruel. Azriel can be guarded at first but I think you’ll get through to him easily. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” He smiles at me again, squeezing my hand in encouragement. I sigh, tilting my head to the side. “You’ve only seen me twice.” “That’s all I need. I know my brother.” 

I nod and take Cassian’s hand again to step out of the car and he ushers me into the restaurant. As I look around I notice the dining room is empty. Most of the tables look like they have been cleared out so a special table could be set up in the middle of the room. Azriel is speaking to the chef and a male I assume is the owner. 

Cassian clears his throat behind me to get Azriel’s attention. When he turns it feels like all the air has been sucked from my lungs. My heart flutters at the bright smile he gives me. His hazel eyes light up as they look me up and down. I finally start breathing again when he stops in front of me. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating. The warm vanilla tones mixed with a light spice fills my nostrils. It’s comforting and makes me want to curl up next to him to breathe it in more. 

Azriel takes my hands in his large scarred ones, bringing them up to his lips to press light kisses across my knuckles. I didn't notice the scars marring them before. They were beautiful. Like a torrent, restless ocean. “You look absolutely stunning this evening.” A blush heats my cheeks, a small smile appearing on my lips from his compliment. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.” 

He drops my hands holding his arm out for me to take like he did in the gallery two days ago. Azriel continues being the gentleman that he is and pulls my seat out for me, pushing me back in, and listens to my answers when he asks me about myself. When it was my turn I asked about his childhood, which seemed to be quite normal given the amount of money his family has. I also couldn’t help but ask why the restaurant was empty.

Azriel sheepishly smiled, looking at his entree for a moment before admitting he bought the place out for the night. “I prefer first dates to be more…intimate, if you will.” I let out a hum, “So you do this for all the girls.” I joke. Azriel looked panicked for a moment. “No,” he got out quickly, “This is, you’re the first one I’ve ever done this for actually.” His voice getting quieter at the end.

My heart leaps at the confession. No one has ever put that much thought into a date with me before and I told him how much I appreciate this.  

“So, how did you get into art?” He asks over dessert. A delicoius crème brûlée with a perfect golden brown sugar coating. I break it with my spoon as I think about how to phrase my answer. "I've always loved art no matter what form it comes in. Paintings, sculpture, digital, all that stuff. I like that people appreciate something pretty or one of a kind, so if I can help them get their hands on it, it makes me happy."

I look at him, shoveling the sweet creamy treat in my mouth. Azriel smiles at me adoringly. Those hazel eyes twinkling with what I'd like to think is love. "That's amazing. Besides the two I got, how many paintings have you sold?" I let out a short, cold laugh thinking about how pissed Gavin was that I made a sale. "You were my first customer. and probably my last. As I know you heard my boss say I'm just an intern. I really should've called him but it was the end of the day so what was the harm."

Azriel shook his head. A dissaproving look takes over his beautiful face as he remembers the scene he walked in on yesterday. "I was ready to punch him." Azriel admits. "He had no right to talk to you like that. But I must say, you were a natural my dear. I probably wouldn't have bought the paintings wihtout your knowledge on them."

"Thank you." I say surprised that soemone didn't find my knowledge about art annoying.

When we finished the chef came out to say goodbye along with the owner. Azriel offered me his arm again but I took a chance twinning my fingers through his. We glance down at our joined hands. I smile lightly at the comfort I feel when I hold it. Azriel looks shocked that I would even go near his hands. "Is this ok?" I ask softly. He seems at a loss for words just nodding and staring at me like a boy realizing he has a crush for the first time.

The whole car ride back to my apartment Azriel doesn't let go of my hand. I rest them on my lap and gently rub my thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. When Cassian comes to stop in front of my apartment my heart sinks. I don't want Azriel to go. I'm not ready for tonight to be over.

"I got it Cass." Azriel says before Cassian can unbuckle. He leads me up the short steps, stopping on the landing. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Feyre and Mor crouched down on the couch. Their eyes just peeking over the window sill. Ignoring them I turn my attention back to Azriel who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we left the restaurant.

He slips his other hand in mine pulling me slightly closer to him. “I had a wonderful time with you. And I really want to see you again.” Without hesitation I say yes, “I’d love to.” Azriel’s smile seemed to get wider. I must say, he’s not at all what I thought he’d be like. Not knowing how to say goodbye we stumble over our words for a moment until Azriel’s expression became serious. His face mere inches from mine now. “Can I kiss you, y/n.” Something about my name on his lips just seemed so right. “Yes,” I whisper.

Azriel’s lips are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The kiss is soft yet passionate and full of a desire I don’t think either of us would be able to sate. Pulling away for air I feel Azriel’s hands slip down my neck and pull away from my body. I hadn’t realized he was holding me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I nod, speechless. The air once again sucked from my lungs.

I slowly open the front door giving him a small wave before shutting it. Leaning against the wood I listen for his graceful retreating footsteps, the car door, and the engine as Cassian takes off down the street.

My heart won’t stop pounding. I rest a hand over my chest, a stupid smile on my lips as I’m off in my own fantasy world.

tags (accounts I couldn’t tag in bold): @amara-moonlight @harrystylesfan2686 @kalulakunundrum @thinkingofmatthewfairchild @just-a-social-casualty-1 @insecuritieeseatmealive @teenageeggscissorslawyer @theladystardust @thehighladywrites @callmeblaire @luell1q @meshellexplosionmurder @verena9003 @starsinyoureyes @mich0731 @yourfutur3lov3r @samanthalynn13 @enchantedatheart

[analog-mothman]

Three Vintage Simstress Dresses 4t2

My first 4t2 clothing conversions! These too a bit longer than I've expected, and I've definitely learned a lot. Some things were easier than expected and some... not so much.

The AF mesh is enabled for elders, and the TF version is repo'd to the AF files, so it needs those to function. The Casual and Velvet Dresses are everyday and outwear, while the Day Dress is just enabled for everyday.

The original dresses are by @vintagesimstress and can be found here, here and here! Shoes are somewhat edited 4t2 boots by @janika31 and @deedee-sims, and the tights for the TF version are from @oldtimeyskellington.

Files are compressed and tooltipped!

Download: SFS | MF (58MB)

TF version (Day Dress, Velvet Dress, Casual Dress)

Things We've Learned, or Excuses and Justifications:

The original TS4 textures were HQ compatible and too big for TS2, and except for the Velvet dress they didn't want to reduce down without going muddy. So most of the swatches are new based on Vintage Simstress' PSDs and some Victorian color palettes I found.

On that note, there are way too many swatches and almost 300 files. I'll probably make that mistake again.

I found the original pattern and a second pattern I liked for the Day Dress on Colour Lovers. There are also additional swatches using parts of old textures from AAS dresses.

I added a collar to the Velvet Dress, and the cuffs were remapped a smidge to work with the new lace patterns.

These don't have morphs because I couldn't get the 5gd meshes to import into Blender for some reason. I'll update the meshes once I can figure out that nonsense.

Sims can sit down; and the skirt shouldn't clip though most tables, desks, etc; but will still clip though some things. Bars are a notable issue.

I learned a lot doing this, and in classic Nykteia style, I definitely overcomplicated some parts and overthought some things.

I love the original dresses so much and I really hope I did them even an ounce of justice.

Swatches; there are also 3 black mourning recolors for the Day Dress that I didn't save the patterns for.

Credits to @vintagesimstress, @deedee-sims, @janika31, @oldtimeyskellington, colourlovers.com, All About Style, and EAxis.

These are my first clothing conversions, so please let me know if there are any issues!

[sunnami]

deleted draft/scene - watch me, don’t touch me, love me, don’t hurt me.

legitimately cannot write anything at the moment, so please have this for a bit T-T

“LILY, DARLING! That dress looks utterly divine! Is that Charmeuse silk? The purple simply brings out the color in your eyes! And your skin, my love! Just glowing! Tell me—have you been trying those snail facials? I hear they’re all the rage nowadays.”

Amidst the Yule Ball festivities, a crowd gathers in the corner of the icy ballroom; far beyond the ages of awkward teenage hand-holding, and an acquired taste for Firewhiskey rather than fruit punch. In the middle of it all—is you. Obnoxiously catching everyone’s attention, whether they like it or not. But even the Dementors in Azkaban would find themselves drawn to your shrilling voice and careless display of wealth; like a bee to a field of flowers. Your gown is dripping in black, hand-woven gothic lace, and drapes of ruffled, yellow satin skirts. It is a testament to your House—the cete of badgers. A pear cut, Canary Diamond necklace sits atop your neck. The capelet around your shoulders is of black velvet and gold trimmings. 

(Always the belle of the ball, but Sirius Black wonders if there’s anything in your head at all.)

(“Bloody hell.” Marlene grabs the flask of whiskey from Sirius’s hands and pours the burning liquid down her throat. “I’m going to need more of this if I plan on surviving the night. Surely there are more important matters to discuss than French designers and our frilly dresses. It’s like I’m back in sixth-year all over again.”

Sirius shakes the now-empty container in amusement. “And you thought stealing my stash was the best idea? Do you know how hard it was to sneak this in with Minnie glaring down my shoulders? I swear that woman treats me like I’m still fourteen.”)

“We work in the same castle, Lily flower, but it’s a pity we don’t run into each other much,” You say liltingly, lipstick staining the rim of your champagne glass. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were deliberately avoiding me!”

Lily flashes you a constrained smile. “On the contrary, I’ve been rather busy these days helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary. My responsibility, after all, is first and foremost—the children.” She raises a brow at you contemptuously. “Not all of us have the luxury of skipping work for tea and gossip.”

You hum, lips quirked in amusement. “Oh? That’s a shame. Narcissa and I would love for you to join us one day.” 

“Perhaps when I’ve no longer important things to do,” says Lily in a saccharine-sweet tone. 

You grow bored of toying with Lily—to her relief—and decide to throw a bone at Rita Skeeter. The bloodthirsty journalist preys hungrily at your every word—and you’re more than willing to satiate the irritable, little pest. You have nobles from pure-blooded families kissing at your feet for a moment of your time; entertaining a crowd like this takes no effort. (Except for the Marauders, you find. They’re the section that plays out of tune in the orchestra you’re conducting.) 

“You wouldn’t believe it, Rita darling, of all the people I come upon in Rome—it’s Vittoria Zabini!” You throw your head back in laughter as Rita’s eyes grow wide as a bug’s. “On a honeymoon, no less!” You wink at Rita. “This makes her fourth one now, I believe.” 

As predicted, Rita greedily whips out her Quick-Quotes Quill. “Riveting.” She pushes her glasses upwards with a quirk of her lips. “We may have tomorrow’s front page at our hands.” 

Lily hides a scoff by taking a sip of her sparkling beverage. “Surely we have more important news for the wizarding world than an innocent woman’s marriage.” 

You gasp melodramatically. “But this is Vittoria Zabini! Haven’t you ever wondered why her husbands mysteriously disappear after months of marriage?”

“Not even once!” Lily slams her glass down onto the round, draped table; nostrils flaring and chest heaving. “Sorry.” She dabs a napkin at her lips with a heavy exhale. “Please excuse me. I’ve just lost my appetite.” 

“Poor dear,” You mutter as the red-headed beauty makes for the group of Gryffindors a few feet away. She instantly collapses into James’s arms, no doubt complaining about your charming personality. There’s an odd ache in your heart as you watch the McKinnon girl pat her back comfortingly; Remus Lupin taking Lily’s hands and easing her anger. You’ve never felt a camaraderie such as theirs. Always the Gryffindors, and their flagrant displays of loyalty and whatnot. 

How repulsive. 

this was one of the first ever drafts for the fic! and no, the yule ball scene won’t be like this, it’ll be quite better, i hope. ;0

[annebaby]

National Anthem ♡ (pt. 3 - final)

aaaand here is the final part of my first fic, National Anthem! i hope you all enjoyed & i appreciate all the love always!

warnings: toxic snow, suggestiveness, fem!reader x young!coriolanus snow, use of Y/N, and i think thats all (?) let me know?

enjoy my lovelies :)

As you pull towards the entrance of the gala, you can’t help but awe at the exquisite architecture of the building. With long columns stretching across the width of the building and a large overhang donned with black ribbons, it was truly a sight for sore eyes. Coriolanus parks the car and heads to your side of the vehicle to let you out. He offers his hand to help you, then he kisses it. This was going to be a long night. 

The car was whisked away to valet parking meaning there was no escape now. Who knew what he would do next? 

The entryway to the gala was covered in a burgundy velvet rug that stretched into the lobby of the main dance hall. You took Coriolanus’ arm in yours, smiled and continued to walk towards the hall. You weren’t surprised you received many looks from the public upon your arrival with Coriolanus. You were both well known in the Capitol. People were staring at your dress in awe, admiring its beauty and taking you in. 

You looked around at the onlookers whilst entering the hall, and you smiled sweetly. Of course, there were multiple men whose gaze was stolen by your cleavage, but you expected this. At least Coriolanus hadn’t stared at them, yet. 

Upon entry to the gala, you released Coriolanus’ arm and turned to face him. He looked down at you with a sly smile, slightly smirking. His eyebrows were raised, waiting for you to say something. 

“I’d like to go find Bridgette, is that alright?” You didn’t know why but you felt the need to ask him. He broke his smile and said, “Of course,” as if it were obvious there was no need for you to ask. 

You stared at him for a second longer before feeling your chest relax. You hadn’t even known it was tight. You stood on your tiptoes to give Coriolanus a kiss on the cheek, before running off to find Bridgette. 

Coriolanus was far too excited by your presence with him. Not only had he wanted you for months, but now he had finally felt your lips on his. He could recall the first time he saw you, a large ribbon in your hair in a far too short skirt and a black sweater. He swore to himself that day that he would never act on his feelings. Lucy Gray made him that way. 

However, as the months passed and he saw you more, he knew something had to be done. You were gorgeous, innocent, obedient, and charming. You would make a perfect wife for him. 

It’s not that he wanted to own you though - he really did have feelings for you. The poor man was just awful at acting on them. That was all. 

So as you walked off to find your friend, he watched every man’s eyes fall on your figure and he fumed. He wanted to rip their eyes out for even glancing in your direction, but that wouldn’t be fit for an upcoming leader. 

He wandered off to find your father, keeping a close eye on you as you disappeared into the crowd. 

“Bridgette! Oh thank God I've finally found you.” Bridgette had been tucked in a corner chatting with Arachne Crane, awaiting your arrival. 

“Oh my goodness you’re stunning! I love this dress,” you spoke, feeling the material of her dress in your fingers. Her brown hair was slicked back in an elegant braided bun and her gown was an eggplant purple with black lacing on the sides. You noticed all the men staring at her as well and laughed due to her obliviousness. 

“Y/N! I’m so glad you’re here! Arachne, if you’ll excuse us, you look gorgeous by the way!” You give Arachne a nod before Bridgette takes your hand and pulls you away. 

“Lord, I cannot stand her. All she wants to talk about is her money and blah blah,” Bridgette laughs as she walks with you. You laugh as well, turning your head around to still see Arachne scoffing at something. 

“But please tell me everything Y/N! Everyone’s already talking about your arrival with Snow and I want to hear it all, I'm honestly so confused.” 

Bridgette leads you to a tray of Posca, which you accept thankfully. Grabbing the glass off the tray, you nod at the Avox carrying it and you turn back to her. You sip your drink solemnly, swallowing and gulping loudly. Then, you squeal. Finally, you could tell someone about the wildness of the night. 

“You’re not going to believe me,” you say, holding onto her shoulder. 

You tell her absolutely everything, and she doesn’t interrupt. She stands with her mouth slightly open and holds all her questions until the end. 

“…. he kissed my hand and now I’m here!”

She stood there for a moment, still silent. Her mouth turned into an open smile as she jumped up and down slightly. 

“Was he a good kiss-,” Bridgette stopped mid sentence, staring at someone behind you. 

You felt a hand sneak around your waist, and it wasn’t Coriolanus. It was Festus Creed.

Your ex boyfriend of about a year, he wasn’t much at all. You hated him if anything. He was rude, stubborn and conceded - not to mention horrible in bed. You smelled the Posca on his breath as he stood next to you, hand on your waist. Even his red curls couldn’t hide the blush in his cheeks from drinking too much. 

“Festus, what’re you doing? Get your hands off me.” You scoff and pry his hand from you before looking at him. He drunkenly smiles, completely out of it. 

The breakup between you had been messy. You had caught him making out with Clemmie in the halls just a few months ago. Needless to say, all contact was cut completely, and the feelings between you two were severed and turned into hatred. Festus does not move away from you, and puts his hands back on your waist. He tries to snuggle his face into your neck. 

“Festus. I said get off -“

You’re cut short by the sight of Coriolanus approaching you both. You shoot him a pleading look, and he quickly intervenes. He pried Festus off you aggressively before grabbing his collar and spitting in his face. 

“One more word to her Festus, and I’ll make sure your father knows you just assaulted a woman and drank way too much. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Festus stared at Coriolanus silently, before Coriolanus released his grip on Festus and told him to get away. He cowered down and slowly walked away, ultimately leaving the event. Needless to say, you and Bridgette were standing side by side awestruck. 

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Y/N. Maybe I need to stick around you more often,” Coriolanus says. He stares at you intently before looking at Bridgette. 

“Hello, Ms. Sinclair. Hoping Ms. Y/N is being good company to you tonight. So sorry I had to intrude.”He smiles sweetly at Bridgette before beginning to walk away. 

“I won’t be far, if anyone else bothers either one of you let me know.”

As soon as he turns his back, you yell after him, “You can just stay with us if you want!” 

You look at Bridgette, silently asking if that was okay with her. She widens her eyes and nods yes frantically, hoping to get more insight on his feelings for you. She was always good at reading people and interpreting their actions. 

Coriolanus slowly turns around with a smile on his face. He bows his head down before holding his hand out to you. 

“In that case, Miss Y/N, may I have this dance?”

You nervously look at Bridgette, not wanting to leave her by herself. She shoves you forward slightly, encouraging you to dance. You take Coriolanus’ hand in your own, slowly moving toward the dance floor.  

A pristine classical song was playing, the sharpness of the violin leaving a small amount of seductiveness in the air. You joined the crowd as smoothly as you could. Coriolanus places his left hand in your waist, his right hand interlocked with yours. He pulls you much closer to him, bodies touching on all planes. The music restarts its pattern, and you both start dancing. As the President’s daughter, you’ve had many dance lessons. You knew how to do just about every dance there ever was in all of Panem. 

Little did you know, so did Coriolanus. He had lots of catching to do after he gained his newfound wealth upon winning the Plinth prize. He enrolled in dance lessons, basic etiquette, and extra scholar tutoring. So, his dancing was above par, making his footsteps go perfectly in sync with yours. 

“So, shall we impress them or keep it tame tonight, my darling?” His whisper in your ear makes cold chills run down your body. You feel his breath on the side of your face and you want to pull him into a nearby room for yourself. 

Without moving for your stable position and disturbing the rhythm, you whisper, “Let’s keep it tame so you can continue to quietly explain to me what it is you want.”

“What do you mean, what I want?” He stopped dancing abruptly, pulling back from you and staring into your eyes with concern and annoyance.

He grabs your arm harshly, pulling you through the crowd and into a nearby room. He shuts the door, locks it, and you step back from him, creating distance. He stands at the door for a second, seemingly out of breath as he places his forehead on the surface of the door. The tenseness in the room was heavy, creating an odd atmosphere. You felt like you needed to walk on eggshells around him. His breathing was labored and his hands were slightly shaking. He was truly terrifying. However, the sexual desire was too thick to deny. An odd mix of both emotions, but hey, you were just a girl after all. 

He slowly turned to face you, craziness in his eyes. He walked toward you slowly, your eyebrows creasing in slight fear and confusion. 

“Don’t you get it? I’ve been trying to show you how I feel for weeks. I see you staring at me in the halls and I know you see me stare back. Even after you saw me brine the driver, you’re still acting utterly oblivious to what I want from you!” He’s yelling now, and he has fully closed the space in between you two, his hands now on either side of your face. 

His eyes search all of your features for some sort of response. They’re scanning your face frantically, looking for anything you can give him. Suddenly, his fingers start tracing the features of your skin delicately. 

“My God. You’re perfect.”

He leaned in and gave your forehead a precious kiss before looking at you to say something once again. 

“I just, I don’t understand. You’ve hardly spoken to me since we’ve known each other. I’m still in the academy, and I don’t have any career plans or anything. What would you want with me?” 

Your voice slightly faltered during your confession, making you seem more innocent and fragile in his eyes. He wanted to destroy you, corrupt you ; you needed to belong to him. 

“I also don’t understand how you’re having a panic tantrum and then kissing me on the forehead - your mood swings are getting too confusing,” you said while giggling. 

You hoped he would take a liking to the joke as well, though you may have stepped over the line. He smiled too, looking down at your hands before grabbing them with his own. He laughs quietly, feeling your fingers in his. 

“How pretty your finger would look with a wedding ring on it. Wonder who the lucky man could be.” 

You looked down at your fingers, imagining an expensive ring as well. You’ve always dreamed of a beautiful ring, a beautiful proposal and an elegant wedding. It was something you never thought you would get to. However, Coriolanus calling your future husband ‘lucky’ was definitely something that gave you hope. 

“I think I’ll have a while before that happens, I am only nineteen after all.”

His hands slowly release yours and rest on your waist. He looks up at you and scans your face quickly before inching closer. He grabs your hands again, placing them on his shoulders to stabilize you. Once your hands are around his neck, he tells you to jump.

“Do what?” You have had sex before, but something about Coriolanus initiating intimacy with you startled you and caught you off guard.

“I said, jump.” 

You do as he says and jump up as his hands cup your bottom and hold you up. As soon as you are at his level, he immediately attaches his lips to yours. The kiss was so sincere and sweet - until it wasn’t. He started pushing his tongue into your mouth and biting your bottom lip whenever he got the chance. Your hands made their way up into his hair, slightly tugging on the ends. He breathed out quietly as he walked the two of you towards the wall. He pinned your back against it, using it to keep you in his arms. 

You had a burst of confidence shortly after that, tugging at the bottom of his blouse, trying to get him to take it off. He dropped you back on the floor gently. Looking at you as if he was waiting, you slowly started to take off his shirt for him. You could tell this was making him go insane by the way he was breathing and looking at you. 

His shirt comes off, leaving his toned abdomen in full sight for you to see. You could not help but stare. He was ridiculously lean and carved in a way you did not think any guys could be. You traced the outline of his abs with your fingertips and kissed the middle of his chest. 

“I didn’t know this is what my schoolboy crush was hiding from me,” you say breathlessly. He laughs in response.

“I have wanted you since the day you stepped in my house for the job, Mr. Snow. You do not understand.”

He watches you as you pull the straps of your dress down the sides of your arms. Something so small and it was driving him insane. He pins your shoulders to the wall as he kisses you roughly. Your hands reach for his neck again before an idea crosses your mind. Your hands travel down to his belt, fiddling and trying to undo it. 

Coriolanus laughs as he breaks the kiss and moves your hand away. 

“Let’s wait until later, darling. You have all the time in the world now.”

You tilt your head, noticeably confused.

“What do you mean?” He stepped back from you and reached down for his coat. He pulls a small box out of the pocket, and your eyes widen. He opens the box to reveal the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen in your life. A simple gold band accompanied by a five carat emerald cut diamond. Your mouth opens, jaw on the ground. 

“I am the lucky man, Y/N. Your Father approved of our marriage the day after I started my internship. I think you’re the perfect bride and the perfect wife and-” he stops before walking towards you and sliding the ring on your finger. 

“...and - now you’re mine forever.”

[simplydannie]

The Runaways || The Meeting

Trigger Warning ‼️ Mention of SA and violence

One of many sets of stories that take place in Under Rageous; detailing the lives of the twins before their rise to fame in the upper city.

Veneer discovers that a gang has been eyeing his sister…. And they have no good intentions. He warns them to leave her alone, but they scoff at his words. Anger then motivates him to take matters into his own hands.

Velvet made her from the Pit with the rations she earned for the night. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for two days…. Especially now that they were feeding a third mouth.

“Freaking Veneer.” She murmured. Her brother felt sympathy and grow attached to a little Troll they had captured nearly a year ago now; Floyd was his name. He was set to be sold to the black market, but Veneer couldn’t part with him. So, he stayed. Being so small he didn’t need too big of rations, but it was still a portion from theirs they had to cut. She took her usual route home, something she always did.

“Tables set!” Veneer chimed from the kitchen, well kind of their kitchen. Their home was a rundown studio. Instead of plastered walls, they had unmatched boards as were the floors. The studio was made up of two small floors, one floor had Velcefs bed while the other had Veneers. Right next to the bedding area was a small kitchen and a couch: at the center, a metal raised board that called a table. Today’s rations were to be delicious, at least that’s what the rumor was around the Pit.

“Table clothes? Huh, where’d we manage table clothes.” Floyd smiled as he hopped on the table. Veneer had made Floyd a tiny dark, orange denim vest. When they found him, all he had were his dark, brown worn out pants and a back pack.

“Got them in a trade! Thought it spruce up the place a bit. Don’t you think?” Veneer asked.

Floyd smiled and nodded, “Definitely gives it something. Let’s get the plates. Vels should be here any minute.”

Veneer glanced at the clock. She was only 3 minutes past her usual time…it wasn’t that bad. She’d be walking in through that door any moment���. Right?

Velvet neared her home, she paused when she saw a group of heathens waiting for her. The leader of them saw her and smiled a sharped tooth grin.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He said. He was tall, about a few years older than she was. His burgundy stringy hair fell down his head, making them look like dreadlocks. A dark over jacket covered his pale bare chest, cargo pants and boots fashioned the bottom half. He was known as Scathe around this part of Under Ragous… and he was very persistent of Velvet.

She ignored him and attempted to walk by. His group blocked her way, keeping her from moving any further, “Move douchebag.” She said.

“Ooohh I LOVE it when you talk like that.” Scathe remarked running his finger along her arm. “I love it when you dress like that too.” She wore her usual dark pink vest over her black tight shirt, mini skirt with combat boots…nothing much but enough to turn him on.

“Drop dead.” She shoved his hand away.

“Baby girl, when are you going to give me a chance?”

“When your dead sounds good.”

“God, I love them spicey.” Scathe attempted to wrap his hands around her waist. She shoved him away, kicking him in the groin.

“I said no!” Velvet backed away. She shoved her way and maneuvered herself from Scathe and his gang. Her hand went to her back pocket where she had a hidden shank; if she had to stab someone in the neck to make home to her brother alive, she’d do it.

“Take a hint, dick.” She scowled.

“Oh I can definitely give you some of that…”

Veneer paced up and down the kitchen frantically. She was now 10 minutes past her time. Where was she?

“Maybe the job took longer than expected.” Floyd had been trying to calm him down, but no luck.

Veneer kept biting his nails, glancing at the clock, “No, no, no. She’s never this late. Never.”

“I said no!”

Velvet? It was her voice. He knew his sister’s voice anywhere. Floyd’s ears also perked up.

“You heard that too?”

“I did.” Floyd responded. Veneer ran to the front door… he paused, he dug around a desk and pulled out a knife.

“Ven!” Floyd exclaimed.

“You never know.” With the Troll on his shoulder, Veneer walked outside…. Not far from where he stood, he saw his sister surrounded by five guys, one of them standing near her, a hungry look on his face.

“Hey!” He shouted.

Scathe glanced up to see Veneer headed their way, “Looks like the prick is going to ruin the fun. See you later baby girl.” He ran a finger along Velvets cheek. She spat in his face in return. The boys laughed before walking away. Veneer finally made it by his sisters side, the knife firmly grasped in his hand. Velvet didn’t turn away until the group of boys were out of sight.

“Vels?” She heard Veneer call her.

“Let’s go home.” Grabbing her brother by the arm, she turned him away and walked back.

“Are you okay?” Floyd asked from Veneers shoulder.

“I’ve handled those jerk faces before. Nothing new.” She replied as she headed up the steps leading to their small studio.

“Wait. Before? They’ve harassed you before?” Veneer shook her grasp away and stared wide eyed at his sister. “How come you’ve never told me this?”

“Because I know how worked up you get! It’s nothing Vennie, come on.” She reached out to pull him inside.

“No! You’re walking around with those idiots after you! How can I not be worried?” An anger crossed his voice. How could she keep something so important from him? How?

“I don’t want you doing anything stupid Ven! I know you.”

“That’s not an excuse!”

“Guys!” Floyd intervened jumping from Veneers shoulder and onto the steps below. He looked up at the giant Rageons. “Stop! This is not a matter to be fighting for. Velvet, you really need to tell us about these things! We worry for you. If something EVER happened to you, we wouldn’t forgive ourselves. You understand!” Velvet only crossed her arms and turned away in response.

“Veneer, she’s right. You have the tendency of taking things in your own hands and doing something reckless. So don’t! We’re going to figure this out together. Got that?”

Veneer also crossed his arms. Both twins turned their heads in defeat away from Floyd…. He was right. Ever since his presence there, he had become the voice of reason between the two…. A father figure. They both let out a sigh of defeat.

“Yes dad.” The mumbled in unison.

Floyd sighed, “Good. Now let’s go eat.”

The next evening, it was Veneers turn to go to the Pit to look for a job for the days rations. Though he tried to understand what Floyd had told him the day before, he couldn’t get the thug and his gang out of his mind. The thoughts of how many times they harassed his sister remained. What if one day they took it far? What if one day the kidnapped her? Killed her? His mind whirled and whirled with thoughts.

“Ven. Ven!” He finally heard Velvet call out to him. He looked at his sister in the eyes. “You sure you’re good to go today? You seem… out of it.”

“I just… I just didn’t sleep well.” Veneer responded.

“Maybe I’ll just go…”

“No!” Veneer interrupted her. “I want to do this one.” He said. She fixed up the collar of his red vest and straightened his purple beanie.

“Be careful. If you’re not back…” She began.

“I know. I know. I’ll be back.” He held out his pinky. “Promises.”

“Promises.” She wrapped her pinky around his. Floyd smiled from the shelf by the door.

“Be careful.” He warned. Veneer smiled at both and was out the door.

The Pit was busier than normal. As jobs became less around then under city, more and more Under Rageons clustered for a chance to pick up an illegal job in desperation for rations. As always, Veneer was one of the youngest ones there. He glanced a the listings and listened in to the offers. Veneer heard of one that would lead him out into the Rageous Woods, he began to wonder if that one would be to dangerous when he heard a familiar conniving laugh. He turned his head to spot the jerk who was hitting up on his sister the other night. Veneers blood began to boil, they laughed as if nothing bothered them, as harassing a girl was just part of their normal routine. Before his mind could comprehend anything, Veneer was walking towards them.

One of boys in the group nudged their the leader, the dreadlocked Rageon, the one who touched his sister. He turned to eye Veneer as he walked closer.

“Well look here. The prick who blocked my advances the other night. He graces us with his presence boys.” Scathe chimed, earning a laughter from his crew. Veneer pouted his face, attempting to look more menacing. Everyone around him laughed…. His blood boiled again.

“Stay away from my sister.” He demanded. The boys around him gazed upon him with amusement.

“Excuse me?” Scathe said.

“Y-you heard me.” Veneer replied attempting to hide his stutter. Scathe flicked the cigarette he was smoking to the ground. He stood, walked slowly to Veneer… he was nearly a foot taller. He looked down at Veneer with his red spiraled eyes, a smirk coming across his face.

SMACK!

He hit Veneer square in the jaw. Scathe kneeled down, his knee on Veneers neck.

“Don’t you dare command me.” He spat. He stood up and kicked Veneer in the ribs. The small Rageon grunted in pain. “Who the hell do you think you are!” He kicked him again. One by one his gang joined in, kicking and hitting Veneer on the ground. He attempted to block the blows, lifting his arms, he shielded his face. Pain soared through his body… there was many people around them, but none came to help.

After what felt like eons, they stopped. Pain pulsated through Veneers body. He spat out blood from where they were able to kick him in the face. Scathe bent down and pulled Veneer by his hair to meet his eyes.

“Your sister is mine now. One day, I’ll sneak on over there. Give her the night of her life. She’ll scream my name… and you, well you’ll be there to watch the show. Watch me show your sister a good time, watch her moan in satisfaction. Mark my words douchebag.” He shoved Veneers face back to the ground. Scathe and his gang laughed as the retreated back into an alley. His words echoing in Veneers mind… He threatened his sister. She wasn’t safe walking around the streets so long he was around. He balled his fists, heat radiating through his body, his mind began to blank as anger and hatred for Scathe filled him to the core. With anger in his eyes, Veneer glanced towards the direction the other Rageons went. To his left….a crowbar.

Standing up he wrapped his fingers around the crowbar and pursued the gang. They didn’t make it far before they stopped to smoke again. Veneers foot prints echoed in the alley.

“Back for more? Want your sister to scream my name already…”

CLING!

Veneer swung the crowbar, hitting Scathe square in the head. The Rageon fell over motionless.

“GO. TO. HELL!” Veneer screamed as he bashed Scathes head. The gang around him jumped him, pulling him away from their leader… but Veneers anger surpassed them all. One by one he smacked them in the head with the crowbar.

“YOU WILL NEVER TOUCH HER!!” He cried as he beat each and everyone. He went back and beat Scathe more and more….again and again….Silence then fell around the alley. Veneer tried to steady his breathing as calmness overcame him. Finally, he looked down at the damage he did.

“Oh….my…. God….” He murmured as the lifeless bodies lay around him. The crowbar fell out of his hand with a clang. His clothes had blood smeared all over them… but it was not his own. His body began to tremble… he couldn’t be here… he need to go….so he ran home.

Velvet was sitting on the floor with Floyd, splitting and portioning the rations when Veneer barged through the door.

“Ven?” She turned around in surprise at his early arrival. “Why are you so- oh my god.” She gasped, covering her mouth seeing the blood on his clothes. She ran to her brother as he collapsed on the couch.

“Ven! What…. What happened? Who hurt you?” She demanded. His was lost in thought, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Veneer!” Floyd’s voice snapped him back to reality. Tears began stinging his eyes.

“Oh my gosh… oh my gosh, oh my gosh!…” He whispered.

“You’re not making any sense. What happened!” Velvet demanded as Veneer buried his face into his hands as he cried.

“They threatened you Velvet. They threatened you. I couldn’t let it happen.” He cried. A realization hit Floyd.

“No… Veneer please tell me you didn’t…”

Velvet looked between the Troll and her brother, confusion still plastered on her face. She knelt down in front of her brother, grabbing his face in both her hands she forced him to look at her.

“WHAT. HAPPENED!” She demanded.

“….. I have blood on my hands Vels…. I got so angry….i didn’t want them to hurt you…..I killed them….I killed them all.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

can we get a part two to this? please 🤍

hello, sorry this is short, but I hope you like it.

part 1

summary - after steve and reader's training session, the battle began, which left the reader to watch her team be taken down by the enemy and for steve to activate her darker powers.

the gifs I use aren't mine, divider by @newlips

Y/n spins around as she watches her team fall, the enemies taking them down one by one. She and Wanda were firing their powers at any of the aliens as they could before Wanda was suddenly taken down. Y/n’s golden eyes flicker around as she tries to find Steve, needing to know he’s okay.

Dread fills her entire being when her eyes connect with Steve’s pretty blue ones. The sight of him being held down by the alien dogs was terrifying. Chills filled everyone’s bodies as the wind picked up. The whisper of a name leaves Steve’s lips, filling the air and shooting through the battlefield.

“Hecate.”

Y/n’s head flies back, and gold streams wrap around her as she slowly transforms. The once golden dress swiftly turned to a black dress, the sleeves wrapped in lace, the skirt long with velvet material, the top changing into a tight corset. Her soft hair turns wild and wavy, veins crawling up her face begin to cover her form with a mix of black and gold. Y/n’s eyes snap open, no longer gold but black as night, and black streams weave through the gold around her body.

Both sides watch with fear and amazement, eyes widening as the magic around her explodes. The aliens that once held down her family have been thrown back, the witch slowly lowers down to the ground, and a growl leaves her lips. Her black eyes stare deeply into each and every one of her enemies, watching them shake as a wicked smile appears on her face. 

“Such weak beings.” Her head tilts, the smile still plastered on her face. “So disappointing.” The moment those words leave her mouth, the field is filled with growls as the alien's storm to attack. From every angle, black and gold streams shoot out of her and wrap around the beings. Y/n lifts a hand, forming a ball of power before shooting it out, watching with a wicked grin as it explodes her enemies. 

Bucky runs to Steve’s side, looking at him with wide eyes. “Your girl is amazing.” Steve stares at Y/n whilst fighting off the aliens that are too focused on getting to her.

“I know.” 

Natasha and Wanda run to either side of Y/n. All three women look at each other and share a smile before going back to destroying everyone and everything in their path. When the rest of them connect, Steve pulls Y/n into a deep, passionate kiss, holding her close to him before pulling back and staring intensely into her eyes.

“I love you, my little witch.” 

“I love you too, Captain.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[take-taker-taken]

Hi! I hope you're having a lovely day/night wherever you are in the world. I'm new here and saw you take requests. Please bare with me, I've never done this before lol. I was wondering if I could have a ministry Taker x fem gothic plus size reader fic? As for smut or fluff I'll honestly let you decide, I'm good with either. I just love ministry taker so much. He has me in a chokehold!

Hello, lovely Anon! I do hope you’re still around and didn’t give up hope of me ever answering you! Here is your beloved Ministry!Taker fic… (link to Part Two is at the end).

Untitled

You carefully apply liner to your eyes, the finishing touch to the smoky look. You know that he’s watching you intently - he always does, to the point where you wonder if he enjoys the ritual of make up as much as you do. You stain your lips a deep, dark red and then sit back and admire the finished product in the mirror.

“You’re beautiful.” The simple statement rumbles from him and you turn to look at where he sits on one of his thrones. This one is slightly smaller than the grand one in the great hall but it’s no less majestic for that. He smiles - an intriguing combination of pleasure, danger and barely-disguised lust - and strokes finger and thumb thoughtfully over his goatee beard. “Come here and sit with me.”

You stand up and turn with a swirl of your black velvet skirt as you smooth down your top, which is cleverly fashioned after his cloak with a deep hood that would hide your face if you used it. The sleeves flare out at the ends, adding to the flowing, floaty quality of the outfit. You slowly walk over to him with a confidence that a few months ago didn’t exist - he used to terrify you and when he plucked you from obscurity to be by his side, you’d barely been able to mutter two words to him. He had chosen, though, and you were to be his. He had seen something in you and so had persevered, not allowing you to be away from him for too long at a time, determined that you would not only grow accustomed to him but that you would learn to find pleasure in his company.

He extends a hand to you as you approach and unafraid, you reach out and take it as you step up on to the platform that the throne sits upon. You know that when he bids you to ‘come and sit with’ him then he wants you close and sure enough, he pulls you in and you hop up on to his lap. As huge as he is, you had been so self conscious the first few times; worried that you were not a waif-like figure. Such things are no longer a concern and you smile and lean against him as one powerful arm encircles you, his fingers stroking up and down your waist.

Your head tucks neatly under his chin if you press yourself fully to him, but you find that you’re feeling playful tonight. His immediate attention has been taken by the book that rests on the arm of the throne and so you slowly slide your hand up the centre of his back. He doesn’t react until you reach his neck, your fingers seeking the bare skin that hides beneath his mane of dark hair. You scratch the nape gently and he rolls his shoulders with a low, rumbling sigh of satisfaction. Encouraged, you turn your face up and deliver a row of small kisses to his jawline before reaching up to give a soft tug on his beard. He turns at that and you look up into stormy green eyes before giving a cheeky giggle, but your hand doesn’t relinquish its grip on the facial hair.

“Something ails you, my princess?” His voice is never particularly animated but you don’t find that scary anymore.

“You called me all the way over here, but seems you’re only interested in that book.”

His arm tightens around your ample waist while his other hand reaches up and covers over the one of yours that holds his beard. “Wanting some attention are you, little one?”

You nod as you give him a playful pout and a mildly pleading look. He guides your hand from his chin and then raises it to his lips, kissing it softly as you look on. He lets go of your hand and then nudges your chin up with one long finger. He kisses along your jaw just as you did to him and you close your eyes, enjoying the feel of the bristly hair against your skin.

“Such a stunning gothic beauty,” He murmurs into your ear, the timbre making you shiver pleasantly. “I knew from the moment I saw you that there was fire inside you.” He caresses the back of your neck with the tips of his fingers while his other hand seeks out the hem of your top so that he can touch bare skin. “It just needed someone to nurture that glow…” As his fingers stroke across your stomach you think back to the beginning of your time with him, when you used to try and move away from touches like this, fearing that there was ‘too much’ flesh there. Now you have no such worries and wriggle around, turning yourself in his lap as his kiss returns, to your mouth this time.

He teases your lips apart and you gladly open your mouth to allow his long tongue entry and place your hand on the side of his face. There’s still a part of you that can’t quite believe that you’re allowed to touch him, to kiss him and to lay with him. He chose you to be at his side; he chose to love you. You open your eyes and whimper slightly with disappointment as he draws back from the kiss and there’s amusement in his gaze.

“You’re wanting more, princess?”

“Always,” you reply, your thumb stroking his cheek.

“I rather fear that I shouldn’t.” He says teasingly. “You only just finished your make up and if I take you to bed then it’ll surely be ruined.”

You smile up at him and tug gently on his beard again. “I don’t mind.”

He growls at your latest assault on his facial hair and snaps his teeth playfully at your hand before standing up with you in his arms. You giggle delightedly as you know that nobody else sees this side to him.

“Very well, girl - you leave me no choice but to teach you some consequences for your teasing.” He dips his head and kisses you again before drawing back to nip at your lips with his teeth. You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck and let your head fall against his chest as he carries you from the room while muttering dark, lustful promises.

TTT

Next

[vampire-meta-knight]

Goth DIY: Altered Clothing part 2 (final part)

Part 1

This part will be shorter since we have less to cover. But it's still a long post, so I'm putting it under a cut.

Skirts and dresses! The last two dresses and green skirt took the most sewing, but the first dress was as simple as sewing studs on the neckline. The black velvet skirt was altered a bit more to fit me, as it was originally a skirt that had small pleats at the top that made the skirt cling to my stomach and flare out further down, which wasn't flattering on me, so I cut that part off and added a new waistband to get a circle miniskirt, then added lace trim to the hem for extra cuteness and a fancy touch.

Attaching skirts to a crop top is an easy way to make a dress if you don't want to sew one from scratch, but the waistlines did turn out a little wonky, so I use a belt or cardigan to hide that. I also sew a thin line of elastic onto the skirts to gather them before sewing them to the top to make it a little easier and to maintain stretch, since these dresses just pull on. I also don't hang them by the tops, but by draping them through a hanger to avoid stretching out the tops because the skirts are a little heavy (at least mine are, since I added so much to them).

For the green skirt, I added triangular inserts called "godets" to make the skirt flare out, since it was too tight before and didn't swish. I like a good swish.

The skirt with all the lace and pins and grommets and nonsense was one of my earlier projects, so it has three mistakes which I implore you to avoid. One: I didn't line the fabric loops up with the waistband very well, so they look crudely tacked-on. Two: I didn't add any fray check to the holes I made for the grommets, so they stretched out and the grommets are no longer attached to the fabric, just floating there on the ribbon. Three: I didn't stretch the skirt as I sewed on the lace, so now it doesn't stretch in that area; it still fits my waist, but I have to fight with it to get it over my hips. The design is still cute, but I would definitely do it better if I were to make it nowadays.

The half-and-half skirt only has a small alteration, which was actually to make it fit rather than to change how it looked. You see, sometimes you order something online in the same size you always wear from that brand, and sometimes that thing ends up running small and has no stretch. When that happens, when the skirt almost fits you and is just so close to buttoning all the way, get yourself a waistband extender. I made one, but you can also buy them. It's just a piece of elastic with a button on one side and a button hole on the other. Put that on, and BAM! The skirt (or pants) fit you. They won't quite zip up all the way, and it is a noticeable change, so I made a cute lace-covered patch to cover up that alteration so you can't tell I changed anything about it at all.

Now onto the sweaters. I love wearing sweaters in winter, but there seems to be a shortage of goth ones. Nothing a few safety pins and lace trim can't handle! The first three only have safety pins added to them. The coffin ones were done the same way I did my sweatshirts, but this was before I knew about fusible interfacing for appliques, so they got a little wrinkled and don't look as nice. I have a better method now, as detailed in the post I linked. The fabrics were all Halloween fat quarters from Walmart, and I found a picture of a coffin on Google Images as a base to cut out the right shape.

All of these sweaters were thrifted except the two solid black ones with pins--the first one came from Walmart, and the second one was given to me by my mom. Sweaters are plentiful at thrift stores, and they don't even have to be black to be turned into something goth.

That's all of my altered clothing so far, unless there's anything I'm forgetting! Which there easily could be, because I shared about forty garments O-O

I'll share the jewelry I've made next, and then the clothes I've sewn from scratch! This will come sometime in the future, though, because it took awhile to find everything, take pictures of it, and then write about it. And between you and me, I've made a LOOOOOT of jewelry and clothing, so give me some time. As I said in the last post, feel free to message me if you want more detailed instructions or ideas. I'm always happy to help!

Stay crafty!

[marzipanandminutiae]

The Other Nightgown Set, or, The Most Underappreciated Crimson Peak Costume

okay, CPeak fans. when I say Edith's nightgown, what do you picture?

this, right?

RIP to the gorgeous silk dressing-gown we never see after this scene. but I digress.

and yes, that is the more iconic one. but you're forgetting my own dearest-beloved, my #cozygoals, my unsung hero of Victwardian gothic loungewear...The Buffalo Robe/Nightgown Set

finding photos of this is ridiculously difficult, and that strikes me as a travesty. but it's a robe of a goldy-chartreuse silk-velvet, with what appears to be a salmon lining (silk again, I'm guessing), floral appliques, and a black sash. She appears to be wearing a lacy cotton nightgown underneath, although a rather short one- only to mid-calf. Interesting.

because Netflix cannot be screenshotted, I took photos with my phone of some details- pardon the quality, glare, etc.

The collar has piping of the lining fabric. This is done by wrapping a thin cord in the material you want to pipe with, and then stitching that whole affair between two pieces being seamed together. It's a pain in the ass to execute, IMO, but such a nice detail.

Our heroine is furnished with POCKETS! you can see lace on either side of the robe "skirt," either decorative pocket flaps or outlining the openings for normal, flap-less pockets. I can't quite tell which.

A slightly better view of said pockets as Edith regards the door that Eleanor (her mother) just opened using Ghost PowersTM.

I didn't screenshot this specifically, but her sash is a black ribbon- of course -with gold edges.

The Buffalo Robe interests me because it seems much more practical than what she wears at Allerdale. Sure, it's goth-tinged and lovely, but it also looks...cozy. It's not all the way up her neck, it's not silk brocade- it's soft velvet, and with pockets to boot. It's something the audience could see themselves throwing on over their own nightwear to lounge around the house. Plus, those pockets bespeak a need to carry things and do Activities- not just wander around crumbling manors with a candelabra looking appropriately ingenuecore. It kind of plays into an interpretive theory I have about Edith falling into the "world" of the Gothic when she goes to Allerdale- she's no longer in reality, sort of, so she gets this over-the-top fantastical nightgown as her primary outfit.

It also bears, I think, more resemblance to actual dressing-gowns and wrappers of the period than her Allerdale nightwear set:

(Dressing gown, 1880s. Fashion Museum, Bath, England. Earlier than Edith's vague 1895-7 aesthetic, but still similar.)

(Deaccessioned from the Rochester Historical Museum, New York, USA. This is described in the listing as an "1880s day dress" and the bodice does have a hidden button closure, but. Come on. The visual similarities are insane. I'm not convinced that Kate Hawley didn't see this dress somehow. Also earlier; also pretty close regardless.)

Makes you wonder if Lucille's got a more practical option stashed away somewhere, too...

[stellariah]

Ellie's Closet: Barbatos edition

⊹ content: these are Ellie's redesigns of the dateables' closets after they burn all their current clothes. Next up is Ellie's former BFF, the stunning, loyal Barbatos (who is somehow more intimidating than Diavolo). ⊹ warnings: none. ⊹ a/n: Ellie is my first Obey Me OC. You can visit their Devilgram HERE! The comments are written from Ellie's perspective. Though I love all the characters, Ell has a variety of feelings. I did these outfit re-dos a long time ago so some images may be familiar. Post set up inspired partially by the Princess Diaries makeover scene.

Only Ellie can take THIS and THIS:

And give you....⊹˚₊

Barbatos: Tops

⊹ Barb's Human World outfit is actually beautiful (minus the warm colour triangular patterning) and suits him well. However, Barbatos is an intimidating, mysterious, and mystical demon and his style just does not reflect that. ⊹ Corsets are an absolute MUST, especially those that have romantic detailing and beading/chains. ⊹ The tops remain mostly loose and flowy in a variety of materials with corsets or cummerbunds to add definition. Teal, black, and white are the main colours with purple as an accent. ⊹ Material focus: satin/silk, crepe, chiffon, velvet, lace, cotton

Barbatos: Bottoms

⊹ Tall boots suit Barb so well, so bottoms will be mostly skinny/straight cut pants or long, loose skirts. ⊹ The bottoms are mostly black with some longer tops/capes and/or accessories used to draw other colours (mostly teal) down. ⊹ Leg harnesses are a must, so much so that Ell got pants that specifically had the harnesses stitched in. ⊹ Material focus: silk/satin, leather, cotton, crepe

Barbatos: Accessories

⊹ The accessories is where Ell focused on adding that mystical touch, drawing on a large variety of materials, textures, and shapes to create a magical, timeless feeling. ⊹ Ell feels a bit sad at the lack of floral for Barb, but felt too much of it would be overpowering. They tried to incorporate more floral elements here, especially in Barb's footwear. ⊹ The classic white gloves are fine, but uninteresting. Black suits Barb better and using fingerless gloves with different materials fits this new wardrobe better. ⊹ Material focus: pearl, black metal, mesh/fishnetting, leather, velvet

©stellariah 2024 | do not copy, repost, translate, or feed my work to AI. All clothing images are from Pinterest. Obey me artwork is ©NTT Solmare Corp.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Got a Jealous Bone

Kinktober Day 14: Collaring

Relationship: mob!Lloyd Hansen x fem!reader (le grand homme and coquinette, Poison Paradise AU)

Words: ~1.2k

Summary: Lloyd needs everyone to know you’re his.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (public sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, nipple piercings, mentions of unprotected vaginal sex), angry Lloyd, hints of crime doings, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: The man is drool worthy and so obsessively in love with his girl I can’t fucking stand it 🥵

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Lloyd growled into his scotch as he watched the blonde hunk of muscle that was supposed to be standing at the door move even closer to you, ignoring the nattering of the asshole he should probably actually be negotiating with as he considered shooting the meathead in the face when he took your tight lipped smile for encouragement and tried to touch your arm. Just because he liked putting you in those tiny little dresses that could barely hold your tits, all these dicks seemed to think it was an open invitation for them to put their hands on you.

“Thank you, sweetie.” At least the dumb jock’s boss didn’t try to touch you when you set a fresh drink in front of him, but he didn’t try to hide the way his eyes lingered over every inch of you while you started to make your way back towards the chaise that Lloyd kept in his office especially for you. “What a pretty little doll, may just have to steal you away from this bastard.”

Lloyd’s jaw clenched and he saw your nostrils flare at the comment, narrowing his eyes when you huffed and fidgeted with your skirt in that way you did when you were frustrated. The sound of him clearing his throat caught your attention right before you sat down, your gaze snapping to his and warmth flooding your system when you saw the look of pure possession that was etched on his features.

“Viens ici, chaton.” Lloyd groaned softly when you slowly prowled towards him, setting his drink down and reaching out to grip your waist and yank you into his lap once you were close. “Andrews here thinks he can steal you from me, coquine. What do you think about that?”

“Mmm, I don’t like it, mon loup.” You leaned into his touch when his hands traced over your hips, purring when his touch slid between your thighs and resting your head on his shoulder as you pouted at him.

“Of course you don’t, ma nénette.” He tutted and kissed your temple before turning you in his lap so you were facing the two men who had offended him, spreading your legs wide over his thighs and dragging his hand up to cup your throat and play with the collar that was fastened around your neck. “Did you happen to notice this, Andrews?”

“Yes.” The man gritted his teeth as he watched Lloyd toy with you, it would be difficult to miss the massive diamond that was hanging from the plush band of black velvet and nestled at the hollow of your throat. “Why?”

“Oh, it’s just a little anniversary present I got for my sweet magpie, she just loves sparkly things.” Lloyd cooed when you arched into his touch when he started to pet you over the soft lace of your panties. “What does your collar say, chérie?”

“Ah, it says ‘property of Lloyd Hansen’.” You rolled your head to the side so you could moan into his neck when he gradually increased the pressure of his fingers, the soft fabric quickly growing sticky and creamy as you became more and more aroused. “Because I’m Daddy’s.”

“That’s fucking right, mon enfant gâté.” Lloyd purred into your ear before scowling at the two men who were starting to look marginally uncomfortable, their eyes finally moving away from you even when Lloyd gave your pussy a light smack and you let out an absolutely beautiful whimper. “All of you belongs to me, and I don’t remember giving either of these two assholes permission to look at my tits, or my pussy.”

“Hansen…”

“I’m not talking to you, bastard.” Lloyd licked your neck and slid the hand that wasn’t playing with your cunt up to drag the top of your dress down until your tits popped out, teasing the jeweled bars that ran through your nipples until you were squealing and wiggling in his lap. “Should I punish them, amour? You know how much I hate when anyone looks at you.”

“N-non, mon homme.” You shivered and whimpered into his mouth when he moved his lips back to yours, his long fingers dragging the fabric of your panties to the side then starting to teasingly swirl over your slit as you leaked cream all over the both of you, ignoring the two men who were looking at the ceiling as you gripped his bicep tightly. “No, just show them why I’m yours, daddy, you need the new territory.”

“Mmm, my clever girl, even when I’m about to make you squirt all over everything. Do not look at her, Andrews.” Lloyd snarled at him after giving you a swift kiss, plunging his fingers inside you and starting to fuck you with his hand even as he kept pinching and tugging on your nipples while you buried your face in his neck and moaned, your body arching into his hand as your core started to grow tighter impossibly fast under his touch. “Look at me. You too… whatever your fucking name is. You’re lucky my girl is in such a sweet mood or you’d be getting carried out of here in pieces and I’d still take your territory. So give me a good fucking deal and do it fast so I can spoil her like she deserves.”

Whatever they said next was drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in your ears and your own wails as you fell apart, your release gushing and squirting out of you and making a mess all over the floor while your cunt spasmed around Lloyd’s fingers as he kept driving them into you. You were barely aware of him biting your breasts and calling you his good girl before he let you sag against him, his fingers still gently petting your pussy once you had settled as his other hand slid up to cup your throat while he continued his discussion. As soon as you felt him start to toy with your collar again, you couldn’t help but purr, making soft and pleasant noises against his skin while you curled up in his lap and wound your arms around him, trapping his hand between your thighs as you dozed off.

Lloyd smiled softly when he felt your warm breath fanning over his neck while you kept letting out sleepy little kitten noises, rubbing his cheek against your hair as he teased his fingers under the plush velvet of your choker as he finally got the idiots out of his office and turned his full attention back to you. He cooed when you whined as he stood up to carry you back to the chaise, laying you down gently and pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulders as he peeled your dress off the rest of the way and stretched his body next to yours as he grabbed one of the files August had left for him.

“Shhh, mon joli chaton, you rest, amour.” He kissed your hair when you murmured at him as you curled closer, trailing his fingers over your side lazily while he started to read. “Always so tired when you come for an audience, take your little kitty nap and then I’ll fuck you right on the conference table in nothing but your pretty collar during the next meeting.”

[manwalksintobar]

Things I Didn't Know I Loved // Nazim Hikmet

it’s 1962 March 28th I’m sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train night is falling I never knew I liked night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain I don’t like comparing nightfall to a tired bird

I didn’t know I loved the earth can someone who hasn’t worked the earth love it I’ve never worked the earth it must be my only Platonic love

and here I’ve loved rivers all this time whether motionless like this they curl skirting the hills European hills crowned with chateaus or whether stretched out flat as far as the eye can see I know you can’t wash in the same river even once I know the river will bring new lights you'll never see I know we live slightly longer than a horse but not nearly as long as a crow I know this has troubled people before                          and will trouble those after me I know all this has been said a thousand times before                          and will be said after me

I didn’t know I loved the sky cloudy or clear the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish I hear voices not from the blue vault but from the yard the guards are beating someone again I didn’t know I loved trees bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino they come upon me in winter noble and modest beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish “the poplars of Izmir losing their leaves. . . they call me The Knife. . .                          lover like a young tree. . . I blow stately mansions sky-high” in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief                                         to a pine bough for luck

I never knew I loved roads even the asphalt kind Vera's behind the wheel we're driving from Moscow to the Crimea                                                           Koktebele                                formerly “Goktepé ili” in Turkish the two of us inside a closed box the world flows past on both sides distant and mute I was never so close to anyone in my life bandits stopped me on the red road between Bolu and Geredé                                         when I was eighteen apart from my life I didn’t have anything in the wagon they could take and at eighteen our lives are what we value least I’ve written this somewhere before wading through a dark muddy street I'm going to the shadow play Ramazan night a paper lantern leading the way maybe nothing like this ever happened maybe I read it somewhere an eight-year-old boy                                        going to the shadow play Ramazan night in Istanbul holding his grandfather’s hand    his grandfather has on a fez and is wearing the fur coat       with a sable collar over his robe    and there’s a lantern in the servant’s hand    and I can’t contain myself for joy flowers come to mind for some reason poppies cactuses jonquils in the jonquil garden in Kadikoy Istanbul I kissed Marika fresh almonds on her breath I was seventeen my heart on a swing touched the sky I didn’t know I loved flowers friends sent me three red carnations in prison

I just remembered the stars I love them too whether I’m floored watching them from below or whether I'm flying at their side

I have some questions for the cosmonauts were the stars much bigger did they look like huge jewels on black velvet                              or apricots on orange did you feel proud to get closer to the stars I saw color photos of the cosmos in Ogonek magazine now don’t    be upset comrades but nonfigurative shall we say or abstract    well some of them looked just like such paintings which is to    say they were terribly figurative and concrete my heart was in my mouth looking at them they are our endless desire to grasp things seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad I never knew I loved the cosmos

snow flashes in front of my eyes both heavy wet steady snow and the dry whirling kind I didn’t know I liked snow

I never knew I loved the sun even when setting cherry-red as now in Istanbul too it sometimes sets in postcard colors but you aren’t about to paint it that way I didn’t know I loved the sea                              except the Sea of Azov or how much

I didn’t know I loved clouds whether I’m under or up above them whether they look like giants or shaggy white beasts

moonlight the falsest the most languid the most petit-bourgeois strikes me I like it

I didn’t know I liked rain whether it falls like a fine net or splatters against the glass my    heart leaves me tangled up in a net or trapped inside a drop    and takes off for uncharted countries I didn’t know I loved    rain but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting    by the window on the Prague-Berlin train is it because I lit my sixth cigarette one alone could kill me is it because I’m half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue

the train plunges on through the pitch-black night I never knew I liked the night pitch-black sparks fly from the engine I didn’t know I loved sparks I didn’t know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty    to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train    watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return

                                                     19 April 1962                                                      Moscow

[poetrythatmakesmyheartburst]

it's 1962 March 28th

I'm sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train

night is falling

I never knew I liked

night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain

I don't like

comparing nightfall to a tired bird

I didn't know I loved the earth

can someone who hasn't worked the earth love it

I've never worked the earth

it must be my only Platonic love

and here I've loved rivers all this time

whether motionless like this they curl skirting the hills

European hills crowned with chateaus

or whether stretched out flat as far as the eye can see

I know you can't wash in the same river even once

I know the river will bring new lights you'll never see

I know we live slightly longer than a horse but not nearly as long as a crow

I know this has troubled people before

                         and will trouble those after me

I know all this has been said a thousand times before

                         and will be said after me

I didn't know I loved the sky

cloudy or clear

the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino

in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish

I hear voices

not from the blue vault but from the yard

the guards are beating someone again

I didn't know I loved trees

bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino

they come upon me in winter noble and modest

beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish

"the poplars of Izmir

losing their leaves. . .

they call me The Knife. . .

                         lover like a young tree. . .

I blow stately mansions sky-high"

in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief

                                        to a pine bough for luck

I never knew I loved roads

even the asphalt kind

Vera's behind the wheel we're driving from Moscow to the Crimea

                                                          Koktebele

                               formerly "Goktepé ili" in Turkish

the two of us inside a closed box

the world flows past on both sides distant and mute

I was never so close to anyone in my life

bandits stopped me on the red road between Bolu and Geredé

                                        when I was eighteen

apart from my life I didn't have anything in the wagon they could take

and at eighteen our lives are what we value least

I've written this somewhere before

wading through a dark muddy street I'm going to the shadow play

Ramazan night

a paper lantern leading the way

maybe nothing like this ever happened

maybe I read it somewhere an eight-year-old boy

                                       going to the shadow play

Ramazan night in Istanbul holding his grandfather's hand

   his grandfather has on a fez and is wearing the fur coat

      with a sable collar over his robe

   and there's a lantern in the servant's hand

   and I can't contain myself for joy

flowers come to mind for some reason

poppies cactuses jonquils

in the jonquil garden in Kadikoy Istanbul I kissed Marika

fresh almonds on her breath

I was seventeen

my heart on a swing touched the sky

I didn't know I loved flowers

friends sent me three red carnations in prison

I just remembered the stars

I love them too

whether I'm floored watching them from below

or whether I'm flying at their side

I have some questions for the cosmonauts

were the stars much bigger

did they look like huge jewels on black velvet

                             or apricots on orange

did you feel proud to get closer to the stars

I saw color photos of the cosmos in Ogonek magazine now don't

   be upset comrades but nonfigurative shall we say or abstract

   well some of them looked just like such paintings which is to

   say they were terribly figurative and concrete

my heart was in my mouth looking at them

they are our endless desire to grasp things

seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad

I never knew I loved the cosmos

snow flashes in front of my eyes

both heavy wet steady snow and the dry whirling kind

I didn't know I liked snow

I never knew I loved the sun

even when setting cherry-red as now

in Istanbul too it sometimes sets in postcard colors

but you aren't about to paint it that way

I didn't know I loved the sea

                             except the Sea of Azov

or how much

I didn't know I loved clouds

whether I'm under or up above them

whether they look like giants or shaggy white beasts

moonlight the falsest the most languid the most petit-bourgeois

strikes me

I like it

I didn't know I liked rain

whether it falls like a fine net or splatters against the glass my

   heart leaves me tangled up in a net or trapped inside a drop

   and takes off for uncharted countries I didn't know I loved

   rain but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting

   by the window on the Prague-Berlin train

is it because I lit my sixth cigarette

one alone could kill me

is it because I'm half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow

her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue

the train plunges on through the pitch-black night

I never knew I liked the night pitch-black

sparks fly from the engine

I didn't know I loved sparks

I didn't know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty

   to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train

   watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return

                                                    19 April 1962

                                                     Moscow