#black people in period clothing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

umabloomer · 6 months

Text

I got a job at a Ukrainian museum.

On the first day someone asks me if I have any Ukrainian heritage. I say I had ancestors from Odesa, but they were Jewish, so they weren’t considered Ukrainian, and they wouldn’t have considered themselves Ukrainian. My job is every day I go through boxes of Ukrainian textiles and I write a physical description, take measurements, take photographs, and upload everything into the database. I look up “Jewish” in the database and there is no result.

Some objects have no context at all, some come with handwritten notes or related documents. I look at thick hand-spun, hand-woven linen heavy with embroidery. Embroidery they say can take a year or more. I think of someone dressed for a wedding in their best clothes they made with their own hands. Some shirts were donated with photographs of the original owners dressed in them, for a dance at the Ukrainian Labour Temple, in 1935. I handle the pieces carefully, looking at how they fit the men in the photos, and how they look almost a hundred years later packed in acid-free tissue. One of the men died a few years later, in the war. He was younger than I am now. The military archive has more photographs of him with his mother, his father, his fiancé. I take care in writing the catalogue entry, breathing in the history, getting tearful.

I imagine people dressed in their best shirts at Easter, going around town in their best shirts burning the houses of Jews, in their best shirts, killing Jews. A shirt with dense embroidery all over the sleeves and chest has a note that says it is from Husiatyn. I look it up and find that it was largely a Jewish town, and Ukrainians lived in the outskirts. There is a fortress synagogue from the Renaissance period, now abandoned.

When my partner Aaron visits I take him to an event at the museum where a man shows his collection of over fifty musical instruments from Ukraine, and he plays each one. Children are seated on the floor at the front. We’re standing in a corner, the room full of Ukrainians, very aware that we look like Jews, but not sure if anyone recognizes what that looks like anymore. Aaron gets emotional over a song played on the bandura.

A note with a dress says it came from the Buchach region. I find a story of Jewish life in Buchach in the early twentieth century, preparing to flee as the Nazis take over. I cry over this.

I’m cataloguing a set of commemorative ribbons that were placed on the grave of a Ukrainian Nationalist leader, Yevhen Konovalets, after he was assassinated. The ribbons were collected and stored by another Nationalist, Andriy Melnyk, who took over leadership after Konovalets’ death. The ribbons are painted or embroidered with messages honouring the dead politician. I start to recognize the word for “leader”, the Cyrillic letters which make up the name of the colonel, the letters “OYH” which stand for Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN in English). The OUN played a big part in the Lviv pogroms in 1941, I learn. The Wikipedia article has a black and white image of a woman in her underwear, running in terror from a man and a young boy carrying a stick of wood. The woman’s face is dark, her nose may be bleeding. Her underwear is torn, her breast exposed. I’m measuring, photographing, recording the stains and loose threads in the banners that honour men who would have done this to me.

Every day I can’t stop looking at my phone, looking up the news from Gaza, tapping through Instagram stories that show what the news won’t. Half my family won’t talk to the other half, after I share an article by a scholar of Holocaust and genocide studies, who says Israel is committing a genocide. My dad makes a comment that compares Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto. This gets him in trouble. My aunt says I must have learned this antisemitism at university, but there is no excuse for my dad.

This morning I see images from Israeli attacks in the West Bank, where they are not at war. There are naked bodies on the dusty ground. I’m not sure if they are alive. This is what I think of when I see the image from the Lviv pogrom. If what it means for Jews to be safe from oppression is to become the oppressor, I don’t want safety. I don’t want to speak about Jews as if we are one People, because I have so little in common with those in green uniforms and tanks. I am called a self-hating Jew but I think I am a self-reflecting Jew.

I don’t know how to articulate how it feels to be handling objects which remind me of Jewish traumas I inherited only from history classes and books. Textiles hold evidence of the bodies that made them and used them. I measure the waist of a skirt and notice that it is the same as my waist size. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Jewish homes during pogroms. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Palestinian homes during the ongoing Nakba. Clothes hold the shape of the body that once dressed in them. Sometimes there are tears, mends, stains. I am rummaging through personal belongings in my nitrile gloves.

I am hands-on learning about the violence caused by Ukrainian Nationalism while more than nine thousand Palestinians have been killed by the State of Israel in three weeks, not to mention all those who have been killed in the last seventy-five years of occupation, in the name of the Jewish Nation, the Jewish People — me? If we (and I am hesitant to say “we”) learned anything from the centuries of being killed, it was how to kill. This should not have been the lesson learned. Zionism wants us to feel constantly like the victims, like we need to defend ourself, like violence is necessary, inevitable. I need community that believes in freedom for all, not just our own People. I need the half of my family who believes in this necessary “self-defence” to remember our history, and not just the one that ends happily ever after with the creation of the State of Israel. Genocide should not be this controversial. We should not be okay with this.

Tomorrow I will go to work and keep cataloguing banners that honour the leader of an organization which led pogroms. I will keep checking the news, crying into my phone, coordinating with organizers about our next actions, grappling with how we can be a tiny part in ending this genocide that the world won’t acknowledge, out of guilt over the ones it ignored long ago.

#palestine #jewish #museums #history #ukraine

7K notes · View notes

cuddlytogas · 2 months

Text

So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.

See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.

But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...

What is the difference between this and this?

Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?

Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.

But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.

And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.

But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.

See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!

As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.

And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:

So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?

Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.

In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.

In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.

This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).

Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.

More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.

This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.

A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.

But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.

#everyone say 'thank you togas' for not including a long tangent about evil rimmer in red dwarf 5x05 #Our Flag Means Death #Togas does meta #and yes these principles DO fall apart slightly in s2 and i DON'T like those costumes as much #don't get me wrong they're fun and gorgeous - but generally a bit less deep and more inaccurate. so. :(#I'm not sure this really says anything new about Our Flag but I just needed to get my thoughts out #i hate hate hate Gritty Period Drama costumes they're so boring and so ugly and so wrong #god bless OFMD for using more than 3 muted colours and actually putting men in heels (and not as a shorthand for rich/foppish villainy) <3 #looking at that Tudors still is insane like they really will go to any lengths to not make men feel like they've got bare legs XD #image descriptions in alt text #and yes i DID just sink about two hours into those so you'd better appreciate them

1K notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 4 months

Note

I am humbly requesting Eddie wearing a shirt that says “nerds make the best lovers” and then proving it to bookworm!Reader.

Your request is my command. I hope I have done your idea justice!

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, slight choking, soft dom!eddie, public sex (kinda?)

Words: 2.2k

Eddie struts into your first period English class with Ms. O’Donell, late as usual, and she doesn’t even glance away from the chalkboard she’s scribbling vocabulary words on to acknowledge his tardiness. On instinct, you smile at your boyfriend as he makes his way to his seat near you, but as your eyes scan over his shirt, heat blooms in your cheeks.

“Nerds Make the Best Lovers” his t-shirt claims in bold, gothic-style red lettering on the black tee. Eddie gives you a brazen wink and by the sound of all the snickering coming from students around you, you know other people have read the clothing’s pronouncement as well. Mortified, you bury your face in your hands, only peeking out to see if O’Donnell caught a glimpse of her least favorite student’s shirt. Luckily, O’Donnell gave up reading whatever shit his t-shirts said after her twentieth time or so sending Eddie to the front office for dress code violations.

Eddie plops down in the seat next to yours and he shoots you another wink as if you hadn’t seen the first one he gave you when he walked in. Refusing to encourage any of this behavior, you don’t look your boyfriend’s way once the entirety of the class.

Once the period ends, however, Eddie won’t let you get away from him that easily. He jogs down the hallway to catch up with you and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders.

“Where’s the fire, baby?” he asks. “Where ya headed in such a hurry?”

You shake your head in non-response and keep walking down the hallway, not sparing him a glance. Eventually, you come to a section of hallway that’s mostly emptied of people and you turn to face him, your shoes squeaking against the white linoleum floor beneath you at the tenacity of your spin.

“What is with that shirt, Eddie? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Embarrass you?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. “Baby, I’m just stating a fact. Nerds do make the best lovers. And I’m more than happy to give you a reminder…”

He trails a finger up your arm, and it sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. Any irritation or annoyance instantly melts away at his touch. Your resistance was already futile but Eddie putting his hands on you always seems to shut off any coherent part of your brain.

“A reminder, huh?” you coo, ensnared by his flirtations.

“That’s right. I’ll show just how good this nerd can make you feel.”

You decide to hell with it; there’s nothing particularly important going on today. Nothing that you couldn’t afford to miss, anyway. And even if there was? Eddie’s body pressed up against yours is worth a detention or a missed test.

“Should we head out to your van for this demonstration?” you ask. The number of times his old, beat down van has been out in the school parking lot, rocking back and forth from the two of you, is too high to count. Most of the times being while school is still in session.

“No, I’ve got somewhere better in mind.” Eddie tugs you by the wrist, leading you down the hall in the opposite direction. He comes to a halt in front of a familiar door and pulls you into the drama room. It’s abandoned and quiet as Eddie locks the door behind you. There’s some D&D paraphernalia scattered around the room, a few D20s that were left out on the table.

“Hmm, so the ultimate symbolism of your nerdiness, huh?” You tease as you sit yourself down on his throne at the head of the table. The seat is cold beneath you, but you refuse to let it show.

Eddie stalks over to stand before you and rests a hand on either arm rest of the throne. He lowers his head to meet your gaze with his own challenging one.

“I suppose you think I’m going to kick you out,” he says, referring to the seat. “Not today, my lady. Today…” he lowers himself down to his knees. “Today you just sit back and enjoy my throne while I make you feel good.”

He makes quick work of yanking your jeans and panties off and tosses them somewhere behind him. A strong hand grips each of your calves and spreads your legs wide open, Eddie wasting no time before he’s licking a stripe up your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, fingers digging into the sturdy arm rests at your sides.

Eddie smirks against your pussy as he begins to flick his tongue against your clit. He knows every one of your little tells and knows just the right speeds and pressures to apply to your bundle of nerves to get you just where he wants you to go.

Your fingers scramble to find purchase on the chair as pleasure floods your body, so Eddie laces one of his hands with yours to ground you. His mouth keeps working against your pussy and you do your best not to grind your hips up to meet his tongue. It’s so tempting but you know it will only draw out Eddie’s teasing in the long run.

With his free hand, Eddie delicately trails one ringed finger around your entrance, going round and round, never breaching it though. The delicious whines spilling from your lips only encourage him on.

“Shit, you taste so good, baby. God, I love your pussy,” he murmurs from between your legs.

“Eddie,” you whimper desperately, eager for him to use his fingers already. Being a nerd might not necessarily make him the best lover, but being a guitar player does make for a magical experience when he fingers you.

“Mm?” he hums against your core.

“N-Need your f-fing—holy shit, yes.”

Eddie knew what you needed before you even said it. The two of you work so well together, both mind and body, that you’re like separate pieces of the same machine, headed towards the same goal.

Two thick fingers stretch you out, at your request, as Eddie raises his head slightly to suck on your clit. He curls his fingers up and gently brushes over the spot that he knows makes you see stars. Your own fingers tighten on the arms of the throne and your legs tense around Eddie’s head.

“Shit! Fuck, fuck, I’m coming!”

Eddie smirks against your clit as he helps you ride it out, with both his fingers and mouth. He loves watching you as you come down from your high; all out of breath and dewy from a thin layer of sweat.

The loss of his fingers as he slips them out of you is quickly made okay as you watch him pop them in his mouth as you try and catch your breath. His cocky facial expressions would annoy you if you weren’t feeling so amazing from his damn mouth.

Once he’s licked you from his fingers, he reaches down and fumbles with the handcuff buckle on his belt.

“Made you feel so good and didn’t even take my cock out yet.”

“Wipe that…smirk off your face.” You try to sound assertive, but it falls flat in your blissed out state.

Eddie chuckles and leans in, wrapping one hand around your throat; not tight enough to restrict air, just enough for you to feel the pressure.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands here, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. “Pretty sure you’d let me do whatever the hell I want to you right now, won’t you?” Both of you know the answer to that, but when you don’t give a verbal response, Eddie tightens his grip on your throat just slightly. “I said, won’t you?” he growls.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak out.

The sound pleases Eddie, and he smiles deviously as he releases your throat. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek that’s a stark contrast to how he was just handling you.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, smugness clear in his tone.

He grabs your hands and yanks you up out of the throne. An involuntary yelp passes through your lips as he spins the two of you around and backs you up until your bare thighs bump into the table.

“Shirt off. Bra too,” Eddie orders.

You do as he says, Eddie’s eyes taking you in like the prey that you are to him with every move that you make.

Once you’re completely naked, Eddie presses his index finger right in the middle of your chest and gives just enough force for you to get the hint that he wants you to lie back.

The moment you get your ass on the table, large strong hands grab behind your knees and pull you towards the edge, so your back falls flat against the surface and your legs are able to wrap around your boyfriend’s lithe body. He pushes down his black jeans and boxers enough to line himself up with your entrance. But he doesn’t push in just yet.

“Say my fucking name, sweetheart,” he says as he leans over you.

“E-Eddie.”

“Louder. I want anyone walking by to know who’s in here making you feel so good.”

“Eddie!”

The man’s grip tightens on your legs and his cock just barely slips into you.

“I said louder. Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me or what?”

“Fuck, Eddie!”

He smirks in triumph at the way you scream his name.

“That’s my girl.”

He finally pushes inside of you, agonizingly slowly, his body towering over yours as he thrusts. Each time, he goes a little deeper, his eyes boring right into yours as he moves his hips.

Your jaw drops open and small gasps escape your lips. You’re not sure what’s hotter: how Eddie’s pounding into you or how he’s staring into your eyes, not once breaking contact.

Eddie groans as he finally bottoms out.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight.”

No words whatsoever fill your mind as you lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie inside your walls. Your boyfriend notices this as well and another arrogant smirk grows on his lips while he stares down at you.

“Aw, already cock drunk, princess? Not a thought in that pretty little head of yours?”

You want so badly to refute it, but you don’t have the words to do so–only further proving his point.

The cool table feels nice against your back as your skin becomes sticky with sweat. Your hands slide from Eddie’s arms and your fingers grip the edge of the table.

Eddie notices the movement and doesn’t want you holding on to anything that isn’t him, though. His hands slide up your body and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Eddie,” you whine.

“Oh, she can speak,” Eddie coos.

“Eddie.”

“What is it, my love?”

“C-Close.”

Eddie holds both of your wrists in one hand while the other one snakes down and presses his thumb against your clit.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie goads. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

“W-Want you to…with me,” you pant out between labored breaths.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie says with a wry chuckle. “I’m right there with you.”

Eddie might be a complete menace sometimes, knowing exactly how to drive you crazy, but you know him just as well and know how to bring him to the brink.

“I-Inside,” you pant. “Need you to cum inside me.”

“Jesus,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his teeth as he tries to hold back.

“Please,” you beg.

“Well,” Eddie huffs with a laugh, “since you asked so nicely. Come on, princess. Let go.”

The twitch of Eddie inside of you and the feeling of him filling you up has you arching your back as sparks fly behind your eyelids and ecstasy radiates up your body.

“Eddie, yes.”

“Louder,” Eddie manages as he fucks his load into you.

“Eddie!”

The blissed out feeling from his orgasm and your shouting of his name puts a big, dopey grin on Eddie’s face.

“Shit, princess,” he says with a chuckle as he buries his head in your neck. You giggle as he presses kisses and nips at the skin there.

Eddie doesn’t make a move to get off of you, which you don’t mind one bit. You tangle your fingers in his frizzy locks and press kisses to the side of his head.

“So?” he eventually mumbles against your skin.

“So what?”

Eddie picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do nerds make the best lovers or what?” he asks, eyebrows waggling.

You can’t help but laugh as you nod your head in affirmation.

“Yes, Eddie. You have proven it to me.”

“Mmm, good,” he hums before he goes back to kissing your neck.

“What’re you doing?” you ask as the kisses become more and more intense.

He pulls back to look at you again.

“You really think the best lover is only going for one round?” He scoffs and goes back to kissing your neck.

“Thank God for nerds,” you mumble as your eyes slip closed.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #request

2K notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

I'm Having Your Baby

It's None Of Your Business

It was supposed to just be a one night stand. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But three positive pregnancy tests later and she realises she's fucked.

(I actually don't like Harry Styles)

Warnings: smut, mention of abortion

The bass was thumping, the music blasting and the lights flying in the club. She was letting loose, shaking her hips in time to the music. She was the envy of everybody in the club.

He was across the dance floor, sat in one of the booths lining the wall. In his hands was a jack and coke, the ice in his glass almost completely melted. Although he was on the other side of the club, he could still see her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Something about her drew him closer. He wove his way through the crowds of people until he was standing in front of her, hands of her gyrating hips. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her body along with his.

He knew he had to have her. Carlos kissed her that night. He pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her. Before long his tongue was down her throat and they had forgotten about dancing.

She ended up at his place that night. He laid her down in his bed and stripped off her clothes. She shivered in the cool air of his bedroom, but it wasn't long before his warm, naked body was on top of hers, thrusting into her, bring wave after wave of pleasure.

He rolled his hips against her, setting his pace according to his moan. He was completely focused on bringing her pleasure again and again.

Nobody had ever fucked her like that before. No single man had ever made her cum that many times.

But still, she was out of his bed, out of his house before he woke up, never to see him again.

The pregnancy test was taken three and a half weeks later. At 25 days she realised she had missed her period. It wasn't worrying until she remembered her counter in the club.

But she never expected it to come up positive. It must have been a fluke she realised. There was no way she was actually pregnant. Not after a single occurrence of unprotected sex.

But then she took another test. And then another. They all came up positive. Fuck, she really was pregnant. And she didn't even know the name of the father.

Actually, it was pretty easy to find out the name of the father. Her little brother was into Formula One, and she recognised him the moment he walked onto the screen.

She hadn't told her family of her pregnancy yet, and she wouldn't, not until she absolutely had to. She hid her pregnancy tests in her apartment and headed off to spend time with them.

It was a Sunday, so of course her brother was watching Formula One while her mother prepared Sunday night dinner. She was sat behind her brother, sipping lemonade as the driver's on the screen were interviewed.

The camera slowly panned across the Ferrari garage. Her glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. "What the hell?" Her brother shrieked as he stood up, avoiding the smashed glass.

"Who is that?" She asked as she pointed to the number 55 driver. He looked just as he did all those weeks ago, somehow better in his black fireproofs and red overalls.

Her brother gave her a frown. "That? That's Carlos Sainz, but why do you care?"

But she had already disappeared into the bathroom to throw up until she was dry heaving. Her baby daddy was Carlos Sainz, the world famous Ferrari driver.

It took her a moment to calm down. When she did, she opened her Instagram and went to his account. She scrolled through his account, as if to make sure it was definitely him. But it was undeniable.

It was a gamble going into his messages. But she had to do something to get his attention, had to let him know what was going on. If he didn't see it then so be it, she didn't need him to raise their baby.

Hi, you might not remember me but we hooked up a month ago. We met in the club and I was wearing a red dress with converse. Well, I'm pregnant.

She sent the message and walked out of the bathroom. The glass had been cleaned up from the living room floor and her family were already sat around the dinner table, the race on in the background. Her legs shook as she joined them.

"Is everything okay, dear?" Her mother asked and she nodded her head. She'd tell them, but not today.

Three days later Carlos Sainz messaged her on Instagram. She couldn't quite believe it when she woke up to that notification.

I remember

That was all he said. It was disappointing, actually. Where did she go from here?

Carlos Sainz said nothing more to her, not until a few months later. She got on with her life while their child grew inside of her, and he got on with his.

Or she assumed he did, at least. Actually, Carlos hadn't stopped thinking about it. It was distracting him from racing and training, and stopping him from eating and drinking.

He remembered her from the club, remembered fucking her. Remembered the way his cock slipped through her velvety folds.

It was one night, it couldn't have been his, right?

After four months of needless stress, Carlos finally messaged her again.

I'm sorry to do this but I need you to prove it to me

No, it was fair enough. She grabbed her pregnancy tests, stood in front of her mirror with her bump exposed. That was the picture she sent to Carlos. That was the picture that made him realise that he really was going to be a father.

Fuck. A new wave of stress rolled through him. What was he supposed to do now?

Are you keeping it?

Yes, she texted back. Yes, I'm keeping it

That wasn't the answer that Carlos wanted to see. He was going to be a father and he really didn't want to.

I want nothing to do with it

She sucked in a breath. Fine, she didn't need him. They didn't need him. But still she accepted Carlos' request on Instagram.

Something in her still wanted his attention. As soon as she could, and for as little money as possible, she booked tickets to the next grand prix.

It was hot, swelteringly so. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and shorts that showed off her bump. Her parents paid for paddock passes and she spent as long as she could walking in front of the Ferrari garage.

Carlos noticed her, but not right away. It was a minute before he regnised her. But then he was Marching over to her. "What're you doing here?" He hissed as he pulled her away from prying eyes.

She swallowed thickly. "I..." but she had nothing prepared to say to him, no excuse. She'd hoped him just seeing her bump would change his mind.

But it remained unchanged.

"I'm here with my girlfriend. You can't be here," he said. He hadn’t looked at her bump, not yet. "Get out of here," he hissed.

But she stepped up to him. "I'm having your baby, Carlos."

"It's none of my business." He turned on his heel and walked away.

719 notes · View notes

moonit3 · 6 months

Text

CAUGHT AT THE MOMENT

➥ warnings/notices: yandere,kissing, gn! reader, smut, nsfw, handjob, amab! reader, afab! reader, mentioned stalking, reader is aware of Felix’s behavior and is into it, nudity, teasing, university setting, both reader and yandere are senior, reader has slept with other people prior, rough fingering (afab part),

➥ yandere! student council president x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: felix caught you trying to steal the exams answers and decided to take advantage of it.

➥ a/n: this was supposed to be released earlier this week, but i got a little concerned in how to write a amab and afab reader, so i had to do a little research (mostly reading smut and other stuff) in an attempt to make at least good to people read it. so please be patient with me if this one isn’t good, enjoy.

➥ felix could feel his heart pounding when he caught inside one of the professors’ office trying to steal the exam’s answers. your hands move away from the drawers when he steps inside, already speaking how wrong is your actions and you don’t even try to create a lie to escape this situation, knowing it will be in vain to pretend to be innocent. so you ask max in what he wants to not tell anyone about it.

———————

“anything?” he repeated the words that you said before. his lips turn into a smile with the possibilities of what he could ask you to do.

“anything you want, perv.” you replied, standing in front of him and seeing how he hides a part of his blush behind his hands when you accuse him of being a pervert. “come on, max. im not an idiot, i see you staring at me during classes and sometimes following me after periods.”

he stares at you in silence. how long have you known about it? how long have you notice him following you after classes? and why didn’t you told the police or the college about it? despite wanting to question you about it, felix knows that isn’t the best moment to do so.

with felix too lost in his thoughts, you sigh and wonder of the things he is thinking of doing with you. knowing that felix is responsible for stealing your clothes last months and also the one who left roses at your bed, it’s possible that he will do something to help with his pleasure and you aren’t bothered by it. by the complete opposite, you are excited to see how far he is willing to take things furthers. you are into that.

and he finally speaks, “then how about you take off your shorts and underwear?” the courage in his voice is evident and the way felix puts his hands on your belt makes things even exciting. “if you do that, then i won’t snitch you to the council.”

that’s a side of max you never expected to see and you want to see it more. “just that? you don’t want me to do anything else?” he unbelted and zipped down the bottom part of your uniform, revealing your black underwear to his eyes. “don’t you want me to show off more?”

felix puts his hand underneath your underwear, feeling how warm you are getting just by his touch alone. aren’t you supposed be a good student of the academy? you are know as the flower of the campus, someone delicate and naive to any forbidden actions, but here you are. letting him touching your sensitive area like it’s a normal thing to do.

———————

if you are amab!

with his free hand, he removes your underwear, taking a view of your cock and how is already leaking from the tip, not to say how his hand can barely hold your length. you are a big one compared to felix, would you even fit on him if he asked?

“you seems surprised, president. haven’t you saw a dick before?” you whispers to him, noticing how red he has become just for seeing your member. felix has saw many types of cock in the videos he watched during his free time from working at the council and even masturbated to it, but yours are completely different, it’s real and he is holding it. “you can give it a try if you want.”

what? felix recompense himself, but not enough to let it go away from your member. he raise his head to stare at your eyes, full of lust and the smile on your face says all, you have been planning to be catch and fallen into your trap so easy. he doesn’t say anything, nothing comes out of his lips as felix put his hand on your knees and remove his eyes away from yours to stare at your thing. it’s begging it to be touch, licked and even tasted it, so he will do it just for you.

his hand began rubbing your cock slowly and the expressions on your face are becoming lewd by his touches on the head of your cock. there is already cum failing from the top, reaching felix’s fingertips and he couldn’t help, but lick it. tasting how sweet you are compared to what he imagined at first, aren’t you perfect?

“f-felix!” your moans became louder as he continues to increase speed on his hands, making you do noises you never expected to do ever under someone’s touches. it’s too much! but you have to hold it, you can’t just come over because felix is the one touching you! it would be embarrassing. “keep going!”

he obeys your orders, going faster and faster with his hands around your shaft. felix wants to see you melting under his touch, make your body completely dependent of his hands only. to make your body start squirm when you see next time during classes, make you become his own little toy for free use.

“a-ah…felix! oh god..oh god!” a loud moan took over the room as you finally came to his hand, your fluids ruins both your shirt and his sleeves, not to say that his face is also wet from your cum, now he looks even handsome than usual. and you can barely stand up or speak, you wasted your voice with those screams and moans to impress felix.

seeing how pleasured you have become by his hands, felix doesn’t lose the opportunity to take a photo of your now wasted body after coming through his touch. a grin is on his face as he admires your new form, the proud student who is the perfect person has become and entire messy by his fingers only.

———————

if you are afab!

with his free hand, he removes your underwear, taking a view of your clit and how is already leaking from his touch alone, not to say how his hand can barely make you a mess from just a finger alone teasing you. your hip are already shaking without nothing inside you.

“you look quite surprised, president.” your thighs are what he can’t take his eyes off, too fascinated by your body and already imagine how easily he could just hold both of them while making you his forever, would you accept it if he dares to ask it? “haven’t you saw a pussy before? or are you just shy?”

felix kneel down between your legs, not daring to move away his glance away from your [e/c] eyes, admiring how it resembles the most expensive jewelry of humanity. “it’s my first seeing one personally, [name].” he uses his fingertips to feel your clit, then slowly put one inside you, “but i will try my best to help you.”

with a finger inside, he began feeling your spongy walls and touching anything he can reach, he is making you feel so good! unlike others who only do this to prepare you for the next part, felix is doing it slowly. holding your hips with his free hand, not letting your trembling move you away from him til he is done with you.

“can you feel it, [name]?” lewd sounds are covering the entire room, both the sounds that your pussy are making when felix’s adds another finger inside you and your moans that are increasing every second. what a lovely view. “you look so precious like this, i bet some people would do anything to see you this way.”

“hmm!” you can feel your thighs getting wet when he puts another finger inside you, not caring to go slowly nor gentle as felix knows that you like it rough, he have heard of the rumors coming from the superiors. and like he expected, your body began reacting even more with his finger reaching deepest as possible.

“you are enjoying it.” he continues to go fast with his fingers inside and not a single coherent words comes out of your lips. just moans (it’s music to his ears!) and whimpers (why are you holding it back? there is no one here!), aren’t such a good pet for him? taking three whole fingers without any problems nor caring about the world outside this room, you are completely focusing in getting pleasure from him. that’s why you moan so loud when it finally came.

seeing how ruined you’ve become just for fingering you is a blessing, if he managed to make you come this amount just for that, imagine when he does the whole thing! that would be a scene he can’t wait to happen. next time, he will bring you to his place to take things even further.

@moonit3 writings

1K notes · View notes

luxus-aeterna · 1 year

Text

from this post

#rococo #late baroque #historical fashion #historical costuming #historical costume #1780s #18th century #18th century costume #teal aesthetic #black people in period clothing #black people in historical costume #mignonne #2023 #blue

2K notes · View notes

iridessence · 2 years

Text

Goal of being a real life impressionist painting, realized. x

#edwardian #late victorian #turn of the century #historical costume #historical fashion #vintage aesthetic #pastel academia #victorian #victorian aesthetic #black people in period clothing #mignonne #2021

3K notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 2 months

Text

Title: free days

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x male reader

Fandom: batman

Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, omega male reader, fluff, no heroes au, bat children are children, implied that they are (name)s bio kids

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

It was the ideal.

Giant alpha with a brooding expression and cold demeanour and peppy Omega who had enough conversation of six people, Bruce reading the morning paper as (name) enjoyed his breakfast sleepily in one of Bruce's shirts and a pair of boxers, both periodically taking sips of their drinks; Bruce a hot cup of black coffee and (name) a cup of (drink). "The zoo's snow leopards had cubs" Bruce mentioned casually, following the family "no bad news till after ten am" rule, (name) humming as he glanced to see the photo of the tiny cub "we should take the pups to see it" (name) mentioned, the Wayne family having donated a few million to help the conservation efforts the zoo was focused on.

"We can make arrangements, my darling" Bruce said to the other who beamed sleepily to his mate, Bruce feeling his heart warm at this.

The pups slowly piled in one by one, the smaller less formal dining area filled with sleepy littles, tweens and teens "Cassandra, stop stealing your brother's bacon" (name) said calmly as he stared off slightly, finally waking up a bit more as the pups ate their breakfast and Damian tried to copy how bruce are clumsily, the toddler absolutely fixated on Bruce these days "your lunches are on the counter in the kitchen, Dick remember that you are going to be accompanying your father today after school, Jason you are going out with your friends yes? I want you back home by 9:45--""ten?" "Get a good score on that test today and I'll consider it" "deal"

(Name) gave his kids their iteneraries as everyone ate and got ready for the day, little Damien and Helana letting their parents carry them to the nursery to be dressed for the day "alrighty little doves, let's get you in your outfits!" (Name) said to the two toddlers who let their parents dress them in clothes that they weren't worried would get messy, Damien in an adorable pair of shorts and a little shirt with a dog on it and Helena in a skort and a shirt that had Carmen Sandiego on it "you two ready?"

Today was their first class in martial arts, something all the children took as Bruce was consistently worried for their safety "they need to be able to defend themselves, what if we aren't there?!" He fretted behind closed doors, Damien looking excited and Helena bouncing as they and the rest of the family went to driveway "Tim, Jason behave or you drive with Alfred" and Alfred didn't get McDonald's before class, the two immediately stopping their nonsense as they followed Dick to his car and the others into the main family car, a town limo where the driver was ready for them. (Name) was thankful Damien kept his shoes on, sitting in his car seat separated from his sister with Cass between them "mama!" He yelled seriously "what is it dames?" "Oweo?" He asked almost confused and (name) tried not to laugh at the boys question "we can get Oreos after your lesson, yes"

Toddler martial arts was mainly just getting the little ones used to it, very clumsy and often times the little ones were more interested in their own feet than actually doing the lesson but it was a start "remember when dick was this little? He would only do anything if you held his hand?" (Name) said as they watched from the glass, little Damien and Helena practicing listening with the instructor and even learning the absolute basic stances, both excited to make noises and give wobbly little stances.

Bruce was happy when he could make time for his family, the tots passed out in their arms as they went to the limo "I'll be going to the office, prepare for the shadowing" Bruce gently kissed (name)s forehead and then lips as they smiled at one another "good luck" and with that they parted.

When night came, (name) was in bed reading a book when Bruce came in "how did it go?" (Name) asked as he blatantly watched Bruce undress into his boxers "it went well, he has been preparing for this since he was 11" Bruce walked to the bed and got in, moving (name) so he layed his chest against Bruce's as they smiled fondly at one another and gently kissed, (name)s hands gently holding into Bruce's sharp jaw as they enjoyed their time alone.

"I think I want another pup"

"Darling we have six children already"

"But baby?"

"Darling, the youngest two are just getting out of potty training"

"Fine" (name) playfully pouted as they cuddled, anyone outside the family would be intimidated by Bruce, though for his mate he was putty.

They weren't the perfect ideal of an alpha and omega but they were their ideal and that's all that mattered.

#batman x male reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

785 notes · View notes

onsomenewsht · 16 hours

Text

Helpless to the bass and faded light

About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking

》 Leah Williamson x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said

You don’t like football.

It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.

Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.

Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.

You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.

The things you do to make your parents proud.

How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.

“Pretty please, just this one”

“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.

You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.

“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.

The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.

Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.

“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”

She can.

“It’s a really important game, my love”

“For who?”

“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.

“I barely bear you playing”

“You love watching me play”

“I love you, period”

Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.

It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.

What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.

The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.

When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.

You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.

The things you do to make your lover happy.

“You know I love you, right?”

“You better never forget this”, you quip back.

The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.

She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.

“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”

Nice try, you will not.

“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”

“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.

Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.

Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.

They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.

You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.

The one thing you all have in common.

“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”

Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.

“He sounds like an incredible father”

“Football obsession aside, he was good”

When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.

The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.

Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.

The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.

You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.

“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.

Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.

When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.

At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.

Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.

You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.

fine.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #lw6 #woso #here we are #short and sweet #i hope you enjoy it

420 notes · View notes

cyb3rspyd3r · 8 months

Text

E! 42 MILES HEADCANONS ☆.

summary: e!42 miles relationship headcanons , whats its like being in a relationship with him.. , slightly suggestive !

! implied black fem reader

a/n: these are from my dr , so they're probably not accurate to how he actually is but you can leave if you dont like it .. anyways enjoy !.

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

hates seeing you all happy happy with boys other than the ones he trusts , he WILL come kiss you , hug you , ect

nigga is hella protective of you , watch someone get flamed for speaking bad about you 💀

his mom teased him for weeks about how he liked getting his hair done by you more than he liked getting it done by her

"mm , someone's in love huh? you normally only let me do your hair mijo." "mami she's my girlfriend chill"

he lovess seeing you in his clothes like he ill take pictures of you/with you with it on and giggle at it for hours .. days .. weeks ..

he know how to do braids , including box braids .. where my black readers at? he DEFINITELY sometimes does ur hair for u

"babyy , you got $180 for my hair?" "goddamn $180? go sit down ma i'll go buy the hair rq we not doin ts"

he is REAL serious about your attitude , this man Will grab you by your neck and tell you what place you're in ..

he only accepts your attitude when you're on your period , but he'll make sure you tone in down by sayin "ight mami chill .. i get it u on ya cycle and shit but chill"

KISSESS KISSESS AND MORE KISSESS .. this nigga LIVES for kisses. always kissin you in public or not and does NOT care

loves neck kisses , he started doing them to u when you're busy and he wants attention so when he saw you doing it to him it made him giggle

yall are the GOOFIEST AND FUNNIEST couple ever , wholee buncha play fights and laughing and shit

you can't take him seriously for shit , yall end up crackin up in the middle of an argument

"yo im sick of this shit bruh unadd him this his 3rd time textin u" ".. shess minee you stay away from her its not her timee ! head ass" "yo gtfo 😭"

he let you do his edges one day because you thought it was funny and begged him to , when he found out you tried to take a picture he stayed in his room until you agreed not to (you secretly still have one)

ARCADE DATES ARE A MUST (saying this cs i love them..) he always teases you before the two of you get there on how he's gonna beat u in every game

his hugs are the best , u could be breaking down and one hug from him is gonna make u feel all rainbows and sunshine ..

nigga is ALWAYS spoiling you.. you want it? mention that you want it around him? you gon get it within the next week/few days ..

ur house is his house .. his house is your house .. yall always at each other house..

"lets go home now im tired .." "which one?"

any insecurities? he gon kiss em

your #1 supporter no matter what you do or how wrong you are

whenever yall play roblox and someone stands on your head he WILL shoot them if its a game where he can kill people

he actually gets jealous so easily

HES ACTUALLY RLLY CLINGY

i had fun making these .. ill make more some other time

taglist: @marci-jean @gw3ndyswonderland @hiimayee @nokkihy @spiderheartzz @all444miles @444morales

#miles morales #atsv #miles x reader #spiderman atsv #e42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles headcanons

1K notes · View notes

bangchansgirlsblog · 3 months

Note

Ive been imagining this and ik its weird BUT ot8 skz being perv and so obsessed to fem 9th member.. Like they get super jealous and the fem readed being a people pleaser like she cant say no to her friends and cant stand seeing them sad so when the members started to became sexually touchy w her they used that against her and be like "dont u want to see us happy? We've been tired and we just want to relieve some stress.. I thought u can help us.. I guess not" and they pretend to be sad abt it and the reader just felt guilty for not helping her friends so she lets them touch her which led to smut KDNDJFKDJ its weird but idk i die for these kinds of fics

Hands on me?

Warning: Angst, sexual activity, manipulation?

Pairing: polyOT8 x reader.

Summary: Don’t you wanna see us happy baby? They said as they slowly peeled her clothes off.

AUTHORS NOTE: this has been in my requests for a while and I write this when I first started off SO it’s not good at all BUT I’m going to write another one using this same request cause I have another idea AND this was in my drafts for a while so I’m dropping it to clear it.

I hope whoever requested this, enjoys it 🥰

"Baby?!" She heard someone call for her from the living room.

"I'm in here!" She replied. Her hair was up in a pony tail and she was currently wearing shorts and a croptop with no bra on making her look yummy.

She heard a bunch of voices start piling up in the living room meaning that the boys were back home.

A small smile creeped up on her face as she continued to wash up the dishes she had used to cook dinner. She made a big dinner because at the end of the day she was feeding 8 of her boyfriends who were also MEN.

"Hey love," Han walked into the kitchen. His hair was in a hat and he had his normal hoodie and cargo pants on. "Are you feelings better?" He asked while taking a few steps towards her until he towering her. His breathing was heavy probably from the flight of stairs.

"Mmm, yeah. Just been a long day that's all." She sighed and looked up at him. He had a pout on his face making her coo at how adorable the boy was.

"I missed you," he said in between kisses.

"Missed you too momo," he rested his head on her shoulder she continued to finish the dishes.Han was always clingy, not more than Felix but it was more than the other boys, that was for sure.

As she finished up she felt His hands slowly wondering around her body then slowly landing on her ass. oh, makes sense. He was horny.

She did love every interaction with her boys, she really did but today she wasn't in the mood at all. She was tired and she had a horrible headache from work. having sex was not on her to-do list but a nap was.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" He whispered in her ear causing shivers to run down her spine. She was sad because she was going to turn him down and she knew how stressed all the boys were, he just wanted have fun.

"Maybe not right now momo, I'm not in the mood," She told him while finishing the last of the dishes and drying her hands. He pouts and lets out a small whimper.

"Have you eaten yet?" She asked him changing the subject.

"Not yet no," he frowned.

"Okay then sit, let me call the other guys to come eat too," She encourage him, "and don't forget to put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket," She tiptoed and gave him a quick kiss before going to the living room to find only Changbin sat while scrolling through his phone.

He was wearing all black and he had his glasses on. His hair was fluffy and curly meaning today he was in the studio all day.

"Binnie?" She walked and sat by him, "what are you doing?"

"Hey baby," he kisses her temple and then her lips, "I was just lacing up my shoes, what about you? How was your day?"

"I'm tired that's all," she pouted, "and my period is coming soon so I'm breaking out!" she exclaimed and crossed her arms causing him to chuckle.

"I mean atleast you look nice," he dropped his shoe and pulled her close to his body, "you look beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, amazing-"

"Okay, okay I get the point," she roll my eyes playfully.

"Hey? Am I not allowed to praise my beautiful girlfriend?" He playfully frowns.

"You are I geuss," she giggled and he couldnt help but pull her onto his lap.

"Then let me praise you huh?" He kisses her cheek and slowly starts moving down her neck. A small moan leaves her mouth.

"B-Binnie, I'm not in the mood, please," she told him.

"Why not? You're always in the mood," he looks confused.

"Not today, just come have lunch yeah?" she give him a peck on the lips and got off him so he could stand up.

"Fine," he huffs. He makes his way to the dining area as she depart6ed and headed to Felix's room

"Felix?" she called while knocking on his door.

"It's open!"

"Hey sunshine, dinner is ready-"

"Hey! no kisses? No hugs?" He frowned and turned around from his desk.

"Oh-" she giggled when she realized and then walked over to him, "Hey lix," she repeated and gave him a kiss as he automatically pulled her on his lap.

"How's my baby doing?" He asked as his hands wrapped around her waist and he cuddled her body.

"Mm just tired," she sighed.

"Oh my poor baby, should we watch a movie later?" He was craving her. he wanted to spend more time with her because he felt like he had spent so much time with the boys that he was neglecting her.

"Yeah that would be nice but first go get lunch," she forced herself out of his grip but he let out a soft whine due to the lack of touch and well...the bulge that was now very visible through his pants.

"Look what you've done to me," he whined again causing her to laugh at his distraught state.

"Oh oh, you better fix that before you go down,"

"Help me please!" He frowned.

"I'm not in the mood Felix, please."

"Come on pleaseee, it's been a long day. Don't you want to see me happy?"

His eyes were shiny and hungry, it was obvious.

"Fine after dinner," she lied to him so he could get up and he actually believed it.

"Okay okay, I'm running there now!"

He got up from his sit and rushed out the room.

She followed behind him and checked the dining room to see everyone now sitting down including Chan, I.N, Seungmin and leeknow.

She went around to give them quick kisses before returning to her room and changed into just a huge shirt (that was probably for one of the boys) and underwear.

She turned off all her room lights and entered bed now being able to have a peaceful sleep. A nice, nice qui-

She felt the bed dip and hands wrap around her body. Her eyes open quickly and she saw familiar hands. Chan.

"Channie?"

"Hey babe, I wanted to cuddles," he pouted.

"Fine but no disturbing my sleep," she scolded him and turned so it was easier for him to wrap his arms around her waist.

Her eyes slowly closed once again and she finally thought she was to get some sleep until the door swung wide open and closed quickly, two more people walking in and making themselves comfortable in her bed. Han and I.N. At this point she was so used to it that she just let them stay as they both argued on who was sleeping where.

"Guys if you're going to be in here, you have to be quiet and sleep," She told all of them off. Even if she was getting a little frustrated she scooted up a little so they could all enter the bed.

Not even a few minutes later all the boys were now in her room on her bed piling onto one another under her fluffy blankets. She knew exactly what they wanted when she felt one of their hands massaging her leg.

She let out a sigh, "Such horny dogs!" she groaned.

"Common baby, it's been a long day. Don't you care about us?" Hyunjin teased her in a manipulative manner.

"Just a little fun. Come on please," Han rubbed her leg once more back and forth causing shivered to run down her spine.

"You look good too," Felix complimented her while tugging at her bra strap, "really good." They were basically already peeling her clothes off with their cold ass hands.

She let out a sigh and finally gave in, "F-fine I geuss so," her eyes wonder to Chan who gives her an assuring nod.

//please idk how to write a smut but just imagine the nastiest thing ever happens//

When they were done and the boys were satisfied as Y/n sat on the bed. Her heart was racing from all the action but she was in her own space. Spaced out.

The constant thoughts of the boys using her for their sexual desires made her enter a depressive episode. Yes she enjoyed the sex and the attention but so many emotions were running through her tiny body that she couldn't handle it anymore.

She felt used like a sex toy and the tears in her eyes slowly started to build as she started to breath rapidly. The air in the room getting suddenly thick. Seungmin was in the bathroom running her bath for her after care. The sound of the water falling was the only sort of noise she could hear.

She held her knees against her chest as she tried to calm down. Han's hand wrapped around her waist. As he kissed her temple. "you did so good for us, you know that right babygirl?" he praised but she didnt even notice him in the first place. Her eyes were hazy and completely black and when Han noticed, he gave chan a look.

"Hey, are you with us?" Chan asked immediately as he pulled up his sweatpants. "Y/n?"

No response.

She was staring at the wall right in-front of her. She felt unloved. She felt tired. She was in pain.

The boys (some of them were still dressing up) all turned to look at her. Her body was still bare and the bruises on her arms were visible.

"Is she going into a trance?" I.N asked panicked. "Chan do something, please,"

"Hey Y/n? Babygirl? It me. Can you hear me?" He walked over to her and grabbed her tiny hands.

"C-channie?" She chocked as She looked up at him. The tears slowly starting to fall.

"Yes my love, it's me. Can you tell me where you are?"

"I'm alone, I'm all alone," she sobbed. "Why am I like this? Why am I so disgusting?" She cried.

"What do you mean Y/n?" He asked shocked.

"I-I want Binnie, I want Binnie now," she said reaching out for him. Changbin did not hesitate. He was right by her side pulling her onto his lap. The rest of the boys understanding what was going on and quickly taking action.

"I'm here princesses, tell me what's wrong," he had no shirt on and the skin to skin was slowly giving her comfort as his body heat was radiating warmth.

"I-do you love me?" She asked. The panic in her voice was clear. She was soon going to get a panic attack. it was building up.

"Ofcourse I love you babydoll, why would you think otherwise?" He questioned while kissing her forehead.

"i- i dont know, please dont be mad at me," She sobbed in his chest. The view was heartbreaking and the boys knew that if they didnt find a way to cheer her up soon it would end up into a full blown panic attack.

"I'm going to make some brownies for her," Felix said because he knew this was the only way he could comfort her on his part. He quickly leaves the room after hesitating for a bit not wanting to leave her.

"I- are you guys using me? For sex?" She cried harder. Her hands held Changbins chest as She struggled to breathe. Their faces were in absolute shock. was this what they made her think? was this all she thought she was to them?

"Ofcourse not," leeknow knelt down infront of her. He slowly rubbed her thigh. "Jagi, you need to breathe. Can you do that for me?" He asked her. Her body was shaking still. she tried to gasp for air but failed.

"Listen to me beuatiful, you need to breathe like me....see," he took a deep breathe to demonstrate to her but it was no use.

"i- i cant breathe," she gasped and let go of changbin to grab her neck. it felt like it was closing up. Her vision was blurry now and the lack of oxygen was getting to her.

"C-chan?" she gasped as she slowly she started to pass out. Her body giving up on her due to the many emotions.

"come on baby, stay with me," she heard in the distance.

"Guys! call 119,"

***

This is just a fic no one come for me 😔

451 notes · View notes

marzipanandminutiae · 7 months

Text

I was just looking into the notion that widowers only had to mourn for 1 year after their wives' deaths, during the Victorian era, while widows had to mourn for two. because I've heard that a lot, but it seems to jive more with the Pop History version of the era where mourning existed because Imposing Rules On People Is Fun and All Marriages Were For Money than with the real version, inhabited by real people who idealized love matches and theoretically practiced formal mourning to show that they were going through something and needed gentle treatment

what I've gathered from a brief search for period sources seems to be:

one source from 1839 mentioned the "widows = 2 years; widowers = 1 year" thing

every other source I read (about 7, from various points in the era) implied or stated that the minimum normal period of mourning for widows and widowers was the same

That's a small sample size, but I still think it's significant

men's clothing could often be harder to visibly alter to reflect mourning, relying heavily on things like black cufflinks and collar studs that could be trickier to notice at first glance than. you know. a bonnet with a black veil over someone's face

a lot of sources talking about mourning clothes were fashion magazines aimed at women, and thus would be more likely to talk about women's mourning attire than men's

so my takeaway is that while some people at some parts of this 60-year period felt it acceptable for widowers to mourn for half the period of widows, many others at other times expected any bereaved spouse regardless of gender. obviously, in a highly misogynistic society, women's adherence to ettiquette could be much more scrutinized than men's; a widower who married six months after his wife's death would be looked askance at, but probably not subject to as much censure as a widow who did the same. and obviously, things don't go according to plan and the formal mourning system could of course backfire- forcing a woman into months of social seclusion for an abusive husband, for example

but.

the overall goal was to convey "handle with care" to the outside world. for many people, widowers were expected to need as much care as widows- and therefore to mourn for the same length of time

#victorian #victorian mourning #history #social history #a friend in my costumer circle said she wished she'd had a better way to signal her bereavement when her father died (she was 17)#because nowadays there really isn't a way to convey the same 'handle with care' message #so she really saw the utility of codified mourning signals

573 notes · View notes

suguruplsr · 6 months

Text

4:00 AM

✰ your boyfriend picking you at damn near 4 am leads to you two fucking. not your fault he’s fine..

,, toji x fem reader , fluff + nsfw , some plot , loosely related to this , masturbation (m) , clit rubbing , he cums on your pussy , grinding , you ride his chest , use of “daddy” , body worship ? , light nipple & cum play , dirty talk , pet names (baby , mama , my lady , princess but jokingly , ) , mentioned that toji stole ur panties before (consensual)

“same city, same hoes, can’t move sour”

“at this hour, it’s 4:00 am with you now what?”

“it’s ‘bout to go down”

“yeah, you left your crew, now what?”

“it’s ’bout to go down”

“shorty, what you wanna do?” - Pistashios, Brent Faiyaz

you stood outside of your local bar, light clothes with a puffy bubble coat, worst choice of clothes to wear considering you stayed with your whiskey all night. on the rocks of course.

maybe you’ve overdone it, it was so damn early in the morning, and you got there at 11 pm? maybe even 10. all you remember is your friends deciding to gang up together, who’ve probably left you by now, to make your night better than that trashy 9 to 5 job you work at everyday. well, worked. stupid old crusty men with their favoritism. you let it slide for a few months after he was appointed as your manger at the little boutique down the street. but even with the disgusting and not-so-smooth tone of his voice, you were pretty— no, hella fucking underpaid. and of course men like him switch up the second you question their behaviors.

at least toji wasn’t like that.

toji. oh fuck. you remember telling you’d let him know when you’d get home. which you clearly have no way getting to. especially after he gave you an eye roll, on the phone, when you gave a last second call to just tell him where you were. he swears you called so late because you wouldn’t be able to handle his judgment for you going to go get yourself shit-faced. but really, you did forget the “caring” man had goal of always being able to keep you safe, or at least keep up with your location, in case of emergencies. something that’s a high risk within this dump of a city.

your shaky and cold fingers tap through your phone, cursing yourself when it hits something else than your messages, eager to just get away from the building.

Friday [3:32 am] y/n — cranky: can u come pick me up..

Friday [3:32 am] cranky — pretty loser: you better explain yourself.

damn. same minute, and a period? as much as you love that man, you cannot handle a sassy ass toji, and most definitely not when there’s still fizzes of alcohol in you. you don’t want to end up in the wrong, right, bed because of some stupid shit you may say to fight back his side eyes.

you walk away from the double doors of the bar, heading towards the parking lot. you lean against the brick wall, watching the coldness of your breath drift off into the air. rnb music played softly in your earbuds, few people roaming the streets in the dark night. you could lightly hear a few drunken men exiting the bar doors with slurred words and laughs, all patting each others back.

how can they be so lively at this time of night? must’ve been a celebration.

well you don’t have room to talk. a bit impatient, you checked the time, 3:38. five minutes. now that you think about it, you weren’t sure how far toji’s house was from here.

distracting yourself, you ponder over the, “calculations”, in your head of about how much time it’d take for him to get here. well, until you hear the familiar engine of his ford mustang, you wonder how he was even able to afford the latest model.

but considering his occupation, you lose the thought all together.

it took 12 minutes in total. the second the suspicious black card is parked in front of you, you’re walking towards it with a fast pace. almost opening the door until he’s opening his door and quickly locking the doors. “what the fuck..?” you mutter, glaring at toji as he walks around the car with a huff of annoyance.

oh.

okay maybe he has some gentleman qualities, you think, letting him unlock and open the door for you, suffering the pain of touching the cold ass handle. yet he still hasn’t talked, not when he got in, not when he got back on the road with a hand on the wheel and the other in your hold, and not when he’s sat at a red light, currently giving you judgmental glances that are more painful than the silence.

“i wasn’t checking the time.” “yea no shit.” okay, you can do this.. you hope. “sooo maybe you shouldn’t look at me like that..?” you sing, holding toji’s hand a bit tighter, it’s big and warm, a comforting warmth that you bring up to your lips with a soft peck. “well maybe you shouldn’t have shit friends.” he grumbles, pressing the gas as soon as the light changes, unconsciously nudging his hand closer to feel your soft lips.

“oh c’mon, we were hanging out for hours. they probably had too much to drink and forgot about me or something..” you hum, turning to him and leaning over the arm rest, running a hand along his arm as he brings his fingers up to your chin. “did they ever text you?” he scoffs, squishing your cheeks, yet his eyes don’t leave the road. even if he did want to give you a knowing look from the sound of your silence as your check your phone.

3:51 • [no new messages]

and your mood falls downcast. biting your lip in nervousness as he waits for your response, maybe they’ll tell you their excuse later in the morning.

“you can’t blame them, it’s almost 4 am” you murmur. and he tuts, keeping your head upright as soon as you put down your phone. you know this street, the last light that leads to his creepy stale neighborhood full of rich old folks. wait, his neighborhood?

you don’t even have the energy to question his route. you just hope you don’t see that one old hag who always nags you two about your relationship.

the red beam reflects in your eyes, all doey and flickering him with a tiny pout tugging your lips. “well i don’t like their lack of care for their dear friend. next time you should just go with me.. and weren’t you the reason why you all even went? tsk.” toji’s face scrunch up, disdain clear in his expression while you ponder over his words.

“nothing’s gonna change your mind?” “nada.” and you sit back defeated. he hand moves to your thigh, squeezing it firmly as a light of green flashes. you stay silent, fiddling with his fingers. which are crazily bigger than yours, and could definitely use a trim. maybe you could cut his cuticles too? is that even safe? he could use a spa day in general, plus a massage, you’ve seen the way he’s twisted his body in insane ways just to crack his back.

you’re shaken from your thoughts when the music in the background stops, car parked and off as he steps out his door. after earlier, you were well reminded to not even touch the door handles, how could you ever forget that? he’s always been adamant on that.

he’s opening the door, greeting you with a small grin, “does the princess need to be carried?” toji chuckles lightly, giving you a hand and guiding you out of the car. “very funny.” you roll your eyes, a smile on your face as he locks the car doors and fishes through his keys for the one meant for the front door.

you walk out the shower, exhausted. and before you can even think of getting comfortable on his bed, you’re distracted by the figure on it.

it’s not like you haven’t seen toji’s body before, far from that, but it’s just something about it. his shirt off with a pair of sweats on. he was laying back against the headboard arms spread wide on it for you to slip easily in them. all with his eyes closed and comfortable.

his muscles are defined, probably made by greek gods from how perfectly they’re structured. and he’s so broad, taking up over half of the space with his large shoulders. just the sight of his neck makes you ache, you’re not sure why that is. but the way he tilts his head back, adam’s apple sticking out, makes you want to sit on his lap and kiss all over it, hands traveling along his physique.

“your mind must be in the gutter. y’r eatin’ me up like no tomorrow..”

toji calls you out with a smirk playing in his face, head tilting towards you. and you saunter over to him without hesitation, oblivious to the way his eyes darken in realization to what you’re wearing.

you don’t keep much clothes at his house, so you usually find yourself wearing his shirts with panties. panties, that he steals off you every now and then. but today you opted for wearing a little white spaghetti strap with a pair of cute pair of matching lace panties. the less, the better.

his eyes are stuck on the way your breasts jiggle when you take your spot on his lap, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling yourself closer. “i can’t help it. i just love your body..” you coo with a playful pout, letting your hands swarm along his body. it’s slow, adoring every inch of his skin and sometimes griping his muscles.

“i can say the same baby.” toji mutters, breath hitching when your hands begin to run up and down on his stomach. he’s probably poking your thighs by now from how sensitive he feels when your fingers drag along the outline of his v-line.

“oh yeah?”

“fuck yeah.”

and you giggle, holding his face with one hand as you two enter a kiss. your lips fight against each other hungrily while your other hand reaches down between your thighs, feeling his hard length strain in his pants. toji grunts when you begin to rub your thighs on it, squeezing them together, and the friction makes him pull away from your lips, head thrown back.

“shit. gunna make me cum.” he huffs out, and it makes your pussy throb. it’s so attractive, the long of his neck, the way his muscles visibly tighten and he’s grabbing the headboard to stabilize himself. you move your hands back behind you, holding onto his legs, and keeping your hips up to grind on his hard cock with your legs spread around his body. it's fucking amazing, the way he could see and feel your clothed pussy, the outline of his cock dragging along your folds.

“wanna feel it on my panties daddy..” you give a whine, tucking out your lips and looking up at him so cutely. and how can he say no?

toji wastes no time rolling his pants down a bit, fishing out his cock and holding the base, directing it towards your white panties. you hold back a moan at the feeling of his tip nudging your bud through your panties. he gives a few tight and short jerks of his cock as you push your pussy impossibly closer. “fuckin’ dirty, bet ya want ‘em soaked all over. gonna cum on that pussy n’ rub your panties on it.” his words make you whimper, feeling his fingers push the cloth aside.

toji smirks at the sight of your soaping pussy, wet and sensitive to the cold air. his tip slips through your folds, gathering the slick on his cock. “tojiii, o-ohh..” you can feel your body aching to lay back, tightening your grip on his legs as he teases your entrance. you can’t even pull your eyes away from his cock. it’s so girthy, tip lightly red with veins bulging a bit. you can’t help but want to reach down help him, his pre cum was coming out in slow little blobs.

“do it really slow n’ hard, base up. i-imagine my tongue dragging under your cock, your cock flat on it.” you murmur out, turning into a whine when he follows your command, a deep groan escaping him, “f-fuck you know about this baby? feels fucking gooood.” toji heaves, slowly picking up the pace when your hole sucks his tip in.

“how do you think i suck you off so good?” you give a small grin when he’s letting out a low ‘fuuck’, quickly pulling back to let his dick sit on your folds, spurts and globs of cum spilling onto your pussy. his doesn’t stop his hand, trying to make your pussy as messy as possible, and gripping your thigh tightly with the other. then he snaps your panties back in place, making you squirm from the hot feeling of his cum spreading around your pussy.

“oooh, ya feel that? s’all mushy n’ warm, yea?” toji chuckles, his eyes watching as a patch of wetness slowly forms on the cloth. “mhm! love it so much, but i wanna drag it all over y’r chest toji! been thinkin’ about it..” your whimpers has his dick twitching again, mindlessly pushing your panties against your hole, feeling around it. “fucking spoiled.” he scoffs.

and now here you are, both of you bare and naked with hickies and marks all over each other, sitting on his wide large chest, pussy flush against his muscles. “you can do it yourself right? c’mon mama, you got it.” toji gives a small smile, arms behind his head as you hold onto his shoulders. “y-yea, i got itt.. mm” when your pussy drags along the line of his chest, you fall down to little mewls, feeling every muscle of his chest.

“you see it baby? look at you makin’ a mess on me.” his body vibrates with his chuckle, going straight to your pussy. you drag your cunny on his defined muscles, going all the way down to his six pack. you bite your lip at the sight of his chest covered in the slick of your mixed cum.

it'd make a good wallpaper, you think.

"makes you look pretty." you mutter, not even thinking as you drag your fingers along the stream, before gripping on his sides and pulling yourself up. but before you can admire his nipples, he's flexing his chest, making you hold onto his biceps at the feeling.

"cute n' all but i wanna see her squirt on me." toji grins, moving his arms and holding you body upright with one hand.

his fingers pull a whine out you when he rubs your clit, tilting your body back a bit so he can smack your cunt with the palm of his hand. "toji!" "nah, wanna hear what you said earlier." and your stomach twists, he likes being called daddy? that's a first.

"can you make me cum daddy? wanna make y'r chest drip with my cum." your voice it slurred, giving him a pouty whine and biting that pretty lip of yours in frustration. and he's grinning, holding your body firmly.

"whatever my lady wants~" he teases, pressing your thighs down as much as he can to make sure your pelvis is pressed tightly against his body with no care for the way your knees hurt, because the sounds of your incoherent moans are better. you’re clawing his chest, being dragged so slowly on it and its so antagonizing. he even reaches down with a thumb to play with your bud, making your thigh shake around him.

“cum on me baby..” he whispers, his eyes trained on your gooey folds as the coil in your tummy breaks. “daddy—!” you cry, all teary as he keeps guiding you along his chest, not letting you escape your high and you both watch how the cum and juices leaving your cunny trickles onto his chest. “so cute..drippin’ all on me..” he groans when you smear your juices on one of his nipples, a coy smile playing on your face and asking him what you’ve been desperate for in a sweet tone.

“can i have y’r cock now daddy?”

388 notes · View notes