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#cocoon coat
montmartre-parapluie · 3 months ago
So, someone has been Lurking a round the Shadow and Bone fandom - mostly inspired by the fabulously talented @orlissa’s and @jomiddlemarch ‘s glorious fics, which give a GREAT nod to a more historically grounded Grishaverse. And... I do keep going to Pinterest and staring at pretty gowns, (coincidentally in shades of gold and black)... so...
Oh, what the hell. I make no apologies, people. This mad historical fashion dump is my ‘give Alina ALL the imposing gowns and elegant outfits’ -and possibly a shadowmancer husband post...
A Radiant Ballgown - Literally!
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First off, I COULDN’T pass up this gown! It was designed by Charles Frederick Worth for an 1883 fancy dress ball in New York for one of the Vanderbilts, who appeared as the personification of “Electric Light”.
This was a very cutting edge costume for the time. The dress even came equipped with a battery to power an electric torch carried in one hand.
(But who needs batteries when you’re a Grisha Sun Summoner?)
It’s a glorious combination of butter yellow and white silk, with hints of lustrous black velvet at the hem. The spangled gold embroidery all over the gown would glitter under strong light - which is just PERFECT for a Sun Summoner to wear whilst demonstrating her powers. It’s also no bad outfit to wear if you have Unresolved Sexual Tension with your shadowy nemesis whilst dancing in the midst of a decadent Lentsov masquerade ball. This gown sort of begs for that kind of high-melodrama!
Keftas Galore...
Now, I don’t know whether I’m subconscious channelling some ‘last days of the Romanovs/Anastasia’ vibes when I think about keftas for Alina...
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(Not ... quite what I’m going for)
but... I ended up looking at Paul Poiret Edwardian evening coats for inspiration, and oh my goodness, the sheer luxurious drama of them all!
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Grisha keftas... because they’re worth it. (The one on the right feels very ‘Decadent Tango with the Darkling’ to me)
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I mean, if you’re going to have to rule as a benevolent dictator with your shadowmancer husband after overthrowing a corrupt regime in order to protect Grishakind and Ravka, you might as well look amazing while doing it, right? In colours which show how you “balance” each other out...
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The gorgeous yellow velvet robe on the right looks like maybe the costume designer from Shadow and Bone used it as inspiration for Alina’s gold kefta? either way, the black appliqué is GORGEOUS. And I would wear it in a heartbeat.
Plus, if you couple them with the breathtaking Mario Fortuny gowns of the late teens/early 20s, it gives a gorgeous look that very much plays into the ‘Sankta Alina’ image...
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They come in gold and black, for choosing your look: ‘Sun Summoner’ or ‘Dark Bride of the Starless Saint’.
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I have to admit, my shipping brain chose these last couple of fluttery dressing gowns for the fact they would be very tactical for persuading Aleksander to stop working on his battle strategies and come to bed.
I’m sorry. i’m trash.
A massive, massive thank you to all the wonderful fic writers out there!
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fawnvelveteen · 5 months ago
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joeswardrobe · 10 months ago
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Winter! It's time to warm up! To be stylish this winter, I recommend my felt cocoon coats to you ♥   And to make their purchase even more enjoyable, use the coupo WARMWITHJOE to get a 30% discount on ordering any coat according to your wishes in my Etsy shop! 🔥 🔥 🔥
The magic will last a month, exactly until 5.01.21 Hurry up! 🔥
With love, Joe
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bowtifullife · 11 months ago
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cozied up in my cocoon coat🤍 This picture was snapped a few years back 📸 on a wild & windy day by one of my OG Chicago blogger buds, @caitpatton, but it’s still one of my favorite fall/winter photos.🥰 Tomorrow on Bowtiful Life I’m dropping a list of the 5 kinds of coats & jackets you should own if you live in Chicago or anywhere with major season changes & fickle weather.❄️ Be sure to take a peek once it’s live on the blog!👀 Coat & bag are linked here: (at Chicago, Illinois)
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ameliajdesign · 9 months ago
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Kaftan Research! - Silhouette development 
It has been really interesting looking into the Kaftan history for my latest project. 
Beginning in the 13th century to 1923, wearing the traditional Arabic dress, as soon as a piece of textile was woven, someone thought to put a hole in it and to pull it over their heads and to even cinch in the waist with a rope, 
Russia and Persia then helped bring Caftans to the west and this was when Paul Poiret was a huge influence, who turned the s-shape corsets of the Edwardian century, into clothing that, “free’d the body from constraint”, making and asian style coat when he opened his fashion house in 1903. 
In 1928, loose fitting, drop waist dresses were the height of elegance in the 1920s. French designer, Madeline Vionnet, made bias - cut clothing, designed to hug and emphasise the natural curve of a women. 
1950′s - Cristobel Balenciaga experimented with unusual shapes. - Tunic Dress, Cocoon Coat, Balloon skirt. 1957- “Waistless sack dress”.
1968 - Yves Saint Laurent - He was hugely influenced through colour, textiles and sensuality of Moroccan culture! Other designers include: 
Pucci / Piere Cradin / Valentino / Oscar de la Renta - They included beading, rhinestones and metallic accents at the neckline on their Kaftans. 
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professorpski · 8 months ago
When I am curled up on my couch craving a squeeze, I find solace in my late mother's big, black, bubble-shaped, wool cocoon coat... whenever I wrap it around my shoulders, I'm enveloped in snuggly reassurance.
My spell-checker is saying snuggly is not a word, but it is. This is Katharine K. Zarrella writing on cocoon styles for the Wall Street Journal this past weekend. There are certain over-sized squishy garments that can give you much comfort when it is cold or life is just a bit much like now with Covid all around. In fact, I decided to learn how to knit in order to figure out how to re-create a beloved, oversized sweater (still working on figuring that out).
I think will blog a vintage Donna Karan cocoon coat pattern on Monday to stay with this cozy theme.
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shewhoworshipscarlin · 4 years ago
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Cocoon coat, 1910s.
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bowtifullife · 11 months ago
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ready to roll into the long weekend 🖤 look is linked: (at Chicago, Illinois)
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buginateacup · a year ago
Listen...if you know someone who sews and they tell you they are making a 1920s day dress or a regency gown from an old sari...don’t ask what for. There will be no reason... there is never a reason... the fabric existed and I must sew 
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japanesefashionarchive · 4 years ago
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Issey Miyake Men wool cocoon coat, 1980s.
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jasminebalder · 8 months ago
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Winter Coat
This Crimson coat is for the woman that likes elegance and a timeless garment to frame her unique personality. Very comfortable tailored coat with classic peak lapels, short cocoon shape. Made in pure wool from Abraham Moon manufacture 100% printed cotton lining with Japanese fortune cats. It has a front opening featuring vintage Italian buttons. A belt to create a more fitted look. Two front pockets and a removable faux fur collar. A comfortable and quality garment to wear around town or for a walk in the countryside. 
Made in London.
Image layout: Michela Badia Design
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apocalypsokane · 3 years ago
Hottest hot take on the apparent Loki and Cloak of Levitation discourse that is somehow a thing that is real
Putting aside the inherent humor of the omnipresent cloak spontaneously appearing to act as a modesty blanket when Loki clearly wants to go around shirtlessly flexing for nearby bespectacled sorceresses,
Consider the following:
1) Dr. Strange lost the cloak to a villain who tore it to shreds. Dr. Strange left it in said shreds and carried on without it, working the full blue look, very mystic-chic
2) Loki, upon being hot-potatoed the title of Sorcerer Supreme, promptly went out to gather those shreds up, create homemade thread, and sew the entire cloak back together down to the last scrap
3) Loki came back for the cloak whereas Dr. Strange left it in tatters, either by dint of being more than a little preoccupied with evil forces more pressing than matters of magical fashion, or else he felt he shouldn’t bother, citing how such a rough streak of supreme sorcerering had taken its toll
4) Point being: Loki put the cloak back together and--how much of this is based on the artist is up in the air--while it was complete again, it was also not the prettiest reassembly. Loki wore it proudly regardless, because the cloak is associated with Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme at His Best. Thus, Loki should/will wear it too, like a Good Sorcerer Supreme who will also Do a Good Job (hopefully, maybe) I mean, we see how the guy looked at the cloak in front of Jane Thor, like a kid looking at some toy designed to mimic a hero’s trademark tool, trying to believe that so long as they have this token they can be just as good...
5) Magic being spilled just about everywhere in the Doctor Strange corner of the Marvel universe, we can guess that the cloak has some amount of sentience (yes, we even see it in MCU if we dare to use that version as evidence), perhaps with the ability to sense/read individuals the way the Vishanti read Loki. This, coupled with the god being the one to piece it back together and to pour so much sappy faith into the garment as a symbol of top wizard copping can lead to only two (2) legitimate conclusions
Conclusion One: The cloak has warmed up to Loki. We see in The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (again, this may just be stylistic tweaking by the artist) that the patchwork stitching has mysteriously vanished into the cloak’s perfect red while the high collar has morphed into a more relaxed, Lokiesque hem; a bit of empathic design shift, maybe? 
While I don’t have very high hopes for it--it is Dr. Strange’s book, after all, he is the protagonist and he is trying to stop Loki from potentially wreaking havoc, blah, blah--I’d love to see the cloak give Dr. Strange the cold shoulder during the big scuffle between him and Loki 
Strange: “I’m going to get my fucking cloak back.” 
Cloak of Levitation, lovingly stitched together by Asgardian thread, washed with homemade lavender softener, given its own silk-padded rack to hang on, is pressed and steamed once a month, draped over the shoulders of a god: “ok good luck with that, do I know them”
Conclusion Two: There is going to be a truly monstrous catfight between the cloak and the ragged green swamp coat once the arc ends and I Cannot Wait
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angryschnauzer · 6 months ago
Pitching Tents
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Summary: Ooof... *insert breathless spongebob meme here* Okay, so your co-stars Chris and Henry invite you along for a long weekend camping trip, and in the wilds of nature they let their inhibitions be set free.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader x Henry Cavill (MFM)
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral Sex (female receiving), Oral Sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, threesome, spit roasts, fingering, grinding, handjobs, vaginal creampie, sloppy seconds, cockwarming, sex outdoors, anal sex, unprotected anal sex, anal creampie, anal sloppy seconds, degrading talk, zero inhibitions, no refractory period, aftercare, crack fic, utter filth, you. have. been. warned., and the worlds best camping table.
Only the finest free range, organic typos, allowed to run wild and free.
I do not run a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will get an alert every time i post something new. Masterlist got too big for tumblr, so past works can also be found at angryschnauzerwrites or on my AO3.
A/N: Don’t @ me yelling about RPF. This is utter fantasy. You know that, i know that. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. However i do feel i have included enough of each actor to satisfy both sets of fans. Enjoy the filth you dirty sluts.
Pitching Tents
Sitting in the dressing room having your makeup removed you laughed and joked with Chris and Henry, your co-stars. Finally you were prosthetic free and your FX makeup artist left, leaving you to listen as the two men chatted away;
“So all set for our camping trip this weekend Chris?” Henry asked as he wiped off fake blood from his cheek
“Can’t fucking wait Henry, three whole days of beers, fishing, and doing fuck all” Chris turned to you and smiled; “So, whata’ you doin this weekend?”
Sighing you took a sip of water;
“Probably just bingeing Netflix with a family sized bag of chocolate”
“Why don’t you come camping with us?” 
Henry suggested lightly, and at his suggestion your head snapped up;
“Really? I’ve never camped in my life! I’ll just cramp your style for your boys weekend. I’ve never even pitched a tent”
“Oh don’t worry, me and Hen have got all the equipment you could need for that” Chris assured you, but you missed the sly wink he shot to Henry.
The campsite was beautiful. On private land it was amazing what being one of Hollywoods biggest stars could get you into, and as Chris had pulled his truck over the gravel both you and Henry were impressed with the stunning location. You’d had little to do as they put the tent up, and as the sun had started to set the beers had been cracked open and the campfire glowed. Whether it was the fresh air, the beer, or the busy work schedule you all had, you were turning in just as the sun had fully set. Curling up underneath the pile of blankets and quilts that’d been thrown on the air mattress, you were quickly fast asleep before either of the men had climbed in beside you.
The bright morning sunlight shone in through the thin fabric of the tent waking you, and as you pulled yourself from sleep you smiled at the two men seemingly still fast asleep either side of you. As much as you wanted to stay in the warmth of the blankets you needed to pee, so carefully and silently you pulled yourself out of the cocoon and slipped a discarded flannel shirt on, unsure if it was Henry’s or Chris’s, either way it swamped you and covered your panties and cami you’d worn to sleep in.
As soon as they’d heard the zipper of the tent close Chris had cracked an eye open to glance at Henry, a smirk on his face as he was greeted with an identical grin.
“Do you think she’ll go for it?” Chris whispered
“Yeah, you’ve seen her eyeing each of us, i think she’ll be up for some fun”
“You ready?”
“Dude, i have woken up with the biggest morning wood” Henry grinned
“Me too… so how’re we gonna do this?”
“I’m thinking the sleepy roll and cuddlespoon method ”
“Yeah that’ll work” Chris paused as he heard your heavy footfalls approaching the tent, winking at Henry before the two of them feigned sleep.
With your teeth chattering from the chilly morning air you reluctantly pulled the flannel shirt off before silently sliding back under the blankets, shivering as your body attempted to warm up until suddenly a warm chest pressed to your back and a heavy arm was draped over your waist. Your eyes sprang open and breath caught in your throat as you processed Henry spooning behind you, quiet snores coming from his lips. Before you could think any more on what the man behind you was doing, Chris let out a sleepy sigh and rolled towards you, his face resting on your chest as his legs pressed against your own. With your lower limbs crushed between both mens you shifted a little, lifting one leg slightly only for Chris to hum in appreciation as his hand rested on your thigh and lifted your knee over his hip.
For just a few minutes as the shock and tension had subsided you relaxed into the warmth of being sandwiched between them, but as the temperature started to rise under the blankets you shifted and started to wriggle, and that’s when you felt the first one. The first nudge as Chris pressed himself to your core and you could feel what the internet had lost their collective minds for. A rush of breath left your body as you fought the dilemma between a friend unknowingly grinding against you with the feeling of just how good it felt. With just the thin cotton of your panties and his boxers separating your bodies, you screwed your eyes shut and ignored the guilty feelings for just a moment as Chris rubbed his impressive hard on the length of your slit. When one particular rub grazed against your clit you let out a gasp and without realising arched your back, pushing your ass into Henry and discovering he was having the same bodily issue Chris was. A sleepy murmur greeted you as Henry’s hot breath danced on your ear, before he pressed closer and you felt his fat dick rut into the crease of your ass.
Was either man aware of what the other was doing? Should you say something? As these thoughts plagued your mind they were interrupted as two pairs of lips started to find their way around your body, Henry softly kissing your neck as Chris hooked one finger into the neckline of your cami to allow him to gently suck a hardened nipple into his mouth.
“Oh fuck…”
Two sleepy ‘hmm’s replied, bodies starting to move in unison as they all sought friction, and when you felt Henry’s warm palm smooth over your thigh and ass you let out a groan as he dipped his hand between your legs from behind and his fingers found their way beneath the elastic of your underwear;
“Chris, she’s fucking soaked”
“Lemme feel…”
Suddenly another hand slid down your stomach and the front of your panties, an appreciative moan rumbling from the Bostonian’s chest as he used your slick juices to coat his finger before rubbing circles again your clit;
“So she is… that’s good, gonna need to be real wet for us Babe… Hen, how many fingers you got in her?”
“Two at the moment” the Brit said as he pumped those two thick digits into your velvet cavern; “She’s so fucking tight…”
“Give her another one, need to get her ready”
You felt Henry pull his hand out before adjusting his fingers, only to feel the delicious stretch and burn as he carefully inserted three of his thick digits into your tight entrance;
“You ready?” he asked Chris as he worked his fingers in and out of you, and with a fluid movement Henry had pulled his fingers from you and your panties down your thighs. Chris’s hands were on your hips, lifting you to straddle his waist before he pulled his boxers down and positioned his dripping cock at your entrance, waiting for you to take the final step.
With your fingers splayed against the hard plains of his chest you sank down on him, feeling the wide head of his cock split your walls apart, the stretch almost too much despite Henry’s fingers working you open just seconds before;
“Oh fuck… Chris…”
“That’s it Babe, ride me, let me feel you fuck yourself on my cock”
Letting your head fall back you closed your eyes as you started to ride Chris, lost in the moment until you heard the sound of Henry spitting on his hand. Looking over you saw how he had pushed the blankets back and was now fisting his angry red dick, watching you ride his friend. Whilst continuing to ride Chris you reached for Henry who wriggled close enough that you could wrap your hand around his hot shaft. He sat up and kissed you, his tongue pushing into your mouth and dancing against your own before he sat back with a contented sigh just as Chris started to fuck up into you;
“Feel so fucking good Babe”
“Chris… oh my god…”
“Gonna fill you up with my cum, wanna see it dripping out of you before it’s Henry’s turn”
At the mention of his name Henry grunted, licking his lips;
“Mmm sloppy seconds… gonna need it to fit me in that tight pussy”
As Chris’s thrusts started to get sloppy you rubbed at your clit, your orgasm washing over you before you felt Chris push his hips up and stutter, the twitching of his dick deep inside you prolonging your orgasm.
Only vaguely aware of Henry moving behind you, it was when his strong hands grasped your hips and lifted you off of Chris did you let out a squeal of surprise, before he set you down on your hands and knees and ran a thumb through your folds;
“Chris, you gotta see this”
With a groan Chris moved, looking at his thick white seed dripping from you before he settled back down beside you, arms behind his head. 
Henry pressed his hand to your shoulders, pushing you down as he settled behind you, swiping the bulbous crown of his fat dick through your come soaked lips. You felt that notch as he lined himself up, and with a grunt he slowly pushed into you. 
“Oh fuck…” Henry cursed; “From the way Chris fucked you i thought you’d be loose, but fucking hell you’re tight…”
You were panting with the overwhelming feeling of being stuffed full by Henry, your words punctuated by breaths;
“You’re… the… one… hung… like… a… fucking… horse… OH FUCKING HELL… SO GOOD”
Where Chris had length and an impressive curve, Henry had girth and a lot of it, the sucking sound of him plugging your pussy from behind filling the tent and audible over your yelps and moans. 
“Love it when a girl is loud” Henry grunted from behind you, his hips digging roughly into your his as he punctuated each smooth thrust with a hard and deep halt, before doing it again. In front of you Chris moved, swinging one leg over your shoulders until your face was inches from his crotch and you felt his knuckle underneath your chin;
“Open up Babe”
Looking up you took in the sight of Chris sitting in front of you, his chest patterned with tattoos and coarse hair, his stomach firm yet soft now he no longer had to push his body to the limits of dehydration for Marvel. His dick was hardening as he watched Henry defile your body, and as he cupped your chin he guided your mouth open, gasping as your tongue and lips sucked on the mushroom head. 
Just then Henry started to thrust in harder, his hips harsh as they snapped back and forth and you were reminded that even though he was 250lbs of solid muscle he had the grace of a ballet dancer with his agility. With each push it sent you forwards to take just a little more of Chris into your mouth, before both men were grunting as they spit roasted you like a spit roasted pig at a county fair.
Your senses were overwhelmed, from touch to taste to smell to sound, the atmosphere in the tent was overwhelming and your mind could barely process it through the pleasure that was coursing through your veins. Henry was pulling a fierce orgasm from you and fucking you straight through it, Chris getting close as he cupped his balls and with a groan unloaded thick streams of cum into your mouth. You swallowed what you could but there was so much some dripping down your chin with a steady trail of spit. 
As Chris slipped out of your mouth Henry also pulled out, his strong arms flipping you over until he was on top of you, his mouth catching your own for a fierce kiss, no doubt able to taste Chris on your tongue but he was unbothered by that as he speared your body again. He widened his stance, his legs wide on the mattress as he ground his length into you, and you were completely surrounded by him as his teeth found your neck and he found your pressure points;
“That’s is Darling, let me feel you fall apart for me… felt so good squeezing my cock just a few moments ago, you can do it again, you feel so good…” he praised you as his hips worked serpent like magic between your thighs, the slow grind and push of his pelvic bone against your clit making you roar as your orgasm coursed through your body. You were thankful that the peak of your orgasm had passed when Henry finally reached his peak as to watch the man come undone was a sight of beauty; head thrown back, his mouth open as he let out a groan-come-howl, and you felt the violent spurts of him filling your womb with his cum.
When he was finally spent he bent down and kissed you, tongues and teeth before with a groan he pulled out and rolled to your side;
“You were amazing Darling”
“She was… and is” Chris added as he rolled towards you a kissed you softly, his beard tickling your face and making you smile; “I don’t know about you guys but i’m fucking starving now”
Having claimed the flannel shirt you’d worn earlier, that was all you wore as you curled up in a camping chair as Chris lit a campfire and started to make breakfast. Henry approached holding a steaming mug of coffee for you which you eagerly took, your teeth chattering as you started to regret not putting more clothing on;
“Cold? Scoot up and sit on my lap, i’ll keep you warm”
Quickly standing you let Henry take a seat in the camping chair before you sat on his lap, his body like a furnace even though he was just in sweats and a t-shirt. Sitting sideways on him he had one strong arm around your back, the other casually resting on your bare thigh as your legs were swung over the other side of the chair. 
You sat and relished the warmth from his body, the three of you chatting about work when you felt Henry’s hand slide between your thighs. Glancing at his face his attention was trained on Chris, his poker face only cracking when you saw the corner of his mouth tug up in a tiny smirk, glancing at you as Chris turned away and cocking an eyebrow as his fingers found your slit. 
“Shh” he quietly whispered as he slid two fingers into your soaked channel as his thumb found your clit, before he nonchalantly returned to the conversation with Chris. Soon you were writhing on his lap and you could feel the insistent nudge of his cock hard against your ass, so when Chris disappeared to the truck to grab stuff from the chiller Henry grinned at you;
“I need to be inside you… quickly…”
You stood and he pulled his sweats down just enough so his angry red cock sprang free, pulling you to sit on his lap, your legs closed as you stood between his outstretched thighs, and you slid down onto him, spearing your narrow channel with his girth. Chris wandered back holding the supplies;
“Eggs? Breakfast sausage?”
You heard Henry snort back a peel of laughter, and Chris paused, frowning;
“What are you two up to?”
“Chris, she’s already getting her breakfast sausage…” Henry lifted the shirt you wore and you parted your thighs, showing Chris what he was missing. The unmistakable twitch inside Chris’s sweats told you he was growing hard, and as you started to bound on Henry’s lap Chris simply leant and sat on the edge of the small camping table, squeezing himself through the fabric as Henry thrust up into you.
You let your cries and gasps drift on the wind as Henry slid one hand down your front and rubbed firm circles on your clit, his other hand cupping your chin and turning your head so he could kiss you, his stubble brushing against your cheek. He started to grunt and you could feel your orgasm sparking like electricity coursing through your veins, you were now so cock hungry you were begging for him to fill you up with another load of his cum as your body milked him. 
With weary limbs you lay prone across Henry’s lap, a smile on your face as you glanced at Chris who’s eyes were dark with lust as his sweatpants were obscenely tented. Groaning as you pulled off of Henry, your legs wobbled as you closed the distance between you and Chris, kissing him fiercely as he held your body to his so you could feel his hardness pressing against your stomach;
“Betcha getting sore now…” he mused
“Bend over the table, let me make you feel better…”
Stepping around the table you bent over it, pressing your chest to the smooth surface, grinning at Henry who was now sipping his coffee as he watched you and Chris with interest. 
You heard the click of a bottle lid just as Chris flipped the shirt you still wore up so your naked ass was exposed completely, the cool trickle of oil over your buttocks followed by his warm palms smoothing the cooking condiment into your skin like a goddess at a Greek temple. His thumbs ran over the swollen lips between your thighs and the deep timbre of his voice resonated through you;
“Look at that, so much cum dripping out of you, our little fuck slut”
He slid two fingers into your pussy, before pulling them out and tracing them over your asshole, the oil helping the way as he breached your body and you let out a groan as he slid in easily. Moving his hand he managed to get his other two fingers into your pussy, stuffing both your holes before he grabbed the oil with his other hand and poured more onto your asshole, lubricating you for the inevitable. 
You felt him pull his hand free and he quickly yanked his sweatpants down, the wide bulbous crown pressing against your oiled rose before with a grunt he pushed in and breached your body;
“So fucking good, gonna pump your ass full of cum then Henry can do the same… if he’s got another round in him” he shot a glance to Henry as did you, the Brit raising his coffee mug as he watched his friend plunder your asshole.
“Gonna finish my coffee, and if you’re not done by then Evans you’ll have missed your shot”
With the challenge set by Henry, Chris started to rail you hard, balls deep in your ass as the quiet sounds of nature seemed to come alive as it fed off the carnal energy in its presence, until finally with a scream you came, an intense anal orgasm making you squirt and cover Chris’s thighs, before with a guttural cry he pushed in balls deep and unloaded a thick stream of cum in your bowels. 
You lay prone on the table, your body seemingly on fire as your mind was high on serotonin, watching through heavy lidded eyes as Henry stood and came round to stand behind you beside Chris.
Sucking in a breath Chris carefully pulled out, and the two men watched as a thigh glob of cum slowly slid from your gaping hole. Henry rubbed his thumb over your stretched ring as he pulled his sweats down;
“Gonna enjoy this… don’t normally get to fuck a girls ass, but if she’s already lubed and cum soaked i can just about squeeze in”
The blunt tip of his dick breached your body, and even though Chris wasn’t small, your body had to stretch even more to allow Henry’s girth into your dark passageway;
“So good… doing so well Darling…” Henry muttered as he smoothed his hands over your cheeks; “Fuck this is tight… not gonna last long…”
His powerful hips started to thrust into you, the suction of your body pulling him back in as he railed your asshole with you bent over the small table. 
“C’mon Henry, fill that little slut up”
“Almost… fucking… there…” he replied through gritted teeth, before pushing forwards one last time, filling you with another load.
“Did you…”
“Nah, just getting to that…”
You were hanging on the precipice, your orgasm so close as Henry pulled out and flipped you over, getting to his knees as he buried his face in your pussy, sliding two fingers into each of your cum soaked holes as his wide tongue lapped at your clit and be brought you to one final mind blowing orgasm. 
With everyone completely fucked out and sated, Henry wrapped his arms around you as he pulled you off the table and settled you on his lap, your body and mind overloaded from being fucked so well for so long. You quietly snoozed on his chest as Chris served breakfast, both men eating quietly as you slumbered, before an hour later you finally roused enough with your rumbling stomach to eat some toast.
Finally as they were clearing up you stood and stretched your limbs, before you quietly shed the now rather soiled borrowed shirt, and as naked as the day you were born you slowly walked into the lake, the cool waters lapping at your skin, soothing your muscles and washing away the evidence of your sin filled morning. 
Floating and looking back at the two men as the finished up and started to undress, you smiled to yourself; for your first time camping it was certainly a trip to remember.
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teenwolf-theoriginals · a month ago
hold me close
pairing: tommy shelby x reader
warning: mild swearing
summary: when you go through a near death experience, it sends tommy even more into over-protective mode
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flashback | one month ago
Each Shelby watched Tommy pace from your hospital door to the end of the hall and back again. No one dared to speak. No words provided enough comfort, held enough power, to calm Tommy down. He’d witnessed you get shot; his wife, and the mother of his daughter, the one person in this fucked up world that held him together. He managed to stop pacing long enough to fumble with the cigarette in his hand, frustration looming when his hands would not stop shaking to light the damn thing. Eventually, he shoved the cigarettes back into his coat pocket, exhaling as he peered into your room. His only thought - the only thought that mattered - was on the shooter. Who got lucky and managed to slip away from the grasp of murderous Shelby’s. But not for long. Not if Thomas Shelby had his way.
A soft tug of his coat brought Tommy out of his thoughts. Ava looked up with gloomy blue eyes, her tiny hands wrapping themselves around Tommy’s neck, sensing his sadness.
“Mama's gonna be alright”. He said, brushing Ava’s caramel brown hair from her eyes.”She’s gonna be alright”. He repeated, mostly to convince himself.
Ava nodded - hurrying back into Polly’s open arms - believing that if anyone knew you would be alright, it would be her dad. And the longer Tommy stared, the more every bone in his body urged him to act. And with the start of a plan forming in his unsteady mind, Tommy marched towards the hospital exit.
“Where do you think you’re going, Tommy?”. Ada asked.
“To find the bastard who shot her”.
“And how are you going to do that?. By knocking down every door?. Perhaps, burning the streets?”.
Tommy stopped at the doors, turning to display an expression the devil himself would proudly fear. “Whatever it takes, Ada. Whatever it takes”.
She pressed her lips together, sharing a worried glance with Polly.
“Arthur, gather as many men as you can and meet me at Charlie’s yard”.
“To do what, Tommy?”.
Walking towards Arthur, Tommy placed a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder. “To hunt, Arthur. We’re all going fucking hunting”.
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present day
You knew how to handle most, if not all, of Tommy’s moods. Frustrated, angry, anxious or smug could all be quelled by space, a conversation of truth or a good fuck. And eventually, by the end of the day, the moods faded. But this time, it felt drastically different. His silence worst than his anger. For, when Tommy stayed silent, he sunk deeper into his mind, blocking out any attempt to soothe whichever demon lurked in the shadows.
It started five days ago, irritability gripping to Tommy and growing inch by inch. Family meetings ended with more arguments than solutions. Tommy rose before sunrise and headed straight to the office, often coming home well after dinner had been served. His responses reminded short and sharp, causing a few housekeepers to hurry in the opposite direction to avoid any sort of interaction. And for the most part, you assumed it was just business causing more problems, setting off his classic Shelby behaviour. And so you remained silent and patient, hoping it would all clear up soon.
But it didn’t.
Instead, Tommy’s behaviour increased beyond any rational sense of over-protectiveness. And while you knew the cocoon of safety he had wrapped around you came from a place of love, you also knew that living in a state of fear was not how you wanted it to be. Hence, why you decided to take steps to get back to a sense of normalcy, much to Tommy’s disapproval.
“Where are you off to this late, eh?”. He asked, Tommy’s flat expression turned to stone watching you innocently wander downstairs all dressed up.
“Those women I meet at the gala invited me out for drinks”.
His body stiffened at the mention of the gala. You didn’t think much of it, brushing his reaction aside as a bad day. As the tragedy at the gala had been handled. The Shelby men, orders forcibly driven by Tommy, gave the bastard who pulled the trigger his personal hell.
“No drinks. Not tonight”. He bluntly stated, walking towards the office.
“I said I would be there. I’m going, Tommy”.
He gripped the briefcase a little too tightly, the veins of his hand on full display. He turned, stare detached from any tenderness. “No going to the pub. No drinks. No leaving the fucking house”.
You stood dumbfounded, heart racing in response to his thunderous warning. And you knew the right choice would be to stay, if for no other reason than to avoid an argument with your husband. But you didn’t stay. Instead, you ripped open the last shred of peace that Tommy had left and went to enjoy a few harmless drinks.
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garrison pub
A girls night out had turned out to be the perfect cure to a traumatic month. Drinks, dancing and watching men after men try their hand at flirting suspended the evening into light-hearted fun. Pouring another glass of champagne, heavy footsteps suddenly turned each head in the pub. They stopped at the foot of your booth, Arthur and Finn dawning uneasy glances at one another to determine who should speak first.
Eventually, Arthur stepped forward. “Er, Tommy-”. He cleared his throat, starting again. “Tommy has asked for you to return home”. He starched the back of his neck, and you weren’t sure if he was more anxious in failing to complete Tommy’s request or of your answer.
“Tell Tommy that I will return home when I’m done”.
Arthur turned to Finn, and with a single nod and a few colourful choice words from each Shelby, everyone scattered until it was just the three of you.
Tapping your nails against the wooden table, you snatched your red coat and marched past the two tense Shelby’s, muttering under your breath. “You got to be fucking kidding me”.
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When you entered Arrow House the floors might as well have been lava instead of carpet under your shoes, each step leaving red hot prints behind, mirroring the embarrassment and vexation flowing throughout your body.
“You and your fucking orders, Tommy”. You loudly exclaimed. He glanced from his desk, and while he appeared calm, the stiffness in his jaw suggested otherwise. “You sent Arthur and Finn to humiliate me".
Tommy stood, walking behind the chair and taking his time to spark a cigarette. He smoked once, twice and once more, until the cigarette resembled an over-sharpened pencil. “I told you not to leave the house”. He spoke in a low tone. And on any other given day, it would entice goosebumps. But in this very moment, the goosebumps rolled off your skin, leaving no effect. “I told you no drinks. But you went anyway”.
“So what, I can’t ever leave the damn house?”.
“I will not apologize for keeping you safe”.
“Keep me safe from what?. What has been going on with you?”.
“Nothing, alright”. He waved it off, finishing the last of the cigarette, leaving all but ash in the tray.
“Fine, build your walls. I’m going to bed”.
You turned, barely making it two steps towards the door until Tommy called out.
“I called Ada telling her you won’t be meeting her for lunch tomorrow”.
“You did what?”. Squeezing your hands together, you breathed deeply. “Tommy, sweetheart, this needs to stop”.
“It will stop when I say. And from now on, you go nowhere without someone I trust by your side”.
“Since when!?”. You cried out.
Tommy slammed the desk, pointing a stern finger towards you, voice booming from wall to wall. “Since my fucking wife took a bullet meant for me!”
Neither uttered a word, letting bated breath circle around each other. As two minutes turned to four, and four minutes turned to six, you remembered the cruel details surrounding the gala. How the rippling sound of gunshot and screams echoed, then begun to fade as the bullet pierced through your skin. The blurry image of the gunman bolting towards any exit but getting no more than a few paces before Arthur and Finn tackled him to the ground, wild kicks and punches thrown in a blind rage. But he, somehow, scrambled under their attack and made his escape. All while you fell into Tommy’s arms, blood staining his expensive black suit as he cradled your body yelling for a fucking ambulance. Polly rushing to kneel beside you, face pained with the tragedy unfolding right before her eyes. Ada standing above, unmoved with eyes wide as she too tried to take in the scene.
Walking over to Tommy, you kissed him. He held onto you with desperation you’ve never seen before. The kiss, albeit rough, held extreme amounts of vulnerability.
“Finish up, okay. Then come to bed”. You mumbled against Tommy’s red-stained lips.
“In a minute. Business-”.
“Business can wait. And I didn’t say to sleep, now did I?”.
Tommy smirked, one hand securing your waist, the other gliding under your skirt, teasing circles over your skin. “When have we ever needed a bed to fuck, eh?”.
You giggled as Tommy’s lips attached themselves all over your neck, skin becoming more flustered with every touch. Withdrawing the heat for a brief moment, he pressed his forehead against yours. “No more standing in front of bullets, alright?”.  
“I promise”.
Stroking his cheek, Tommy kissed you again with utmost care until you pulled off his shirt, nails scraping down his chest, indicating that slow and steady was not what you wanted tonight. His fingers unbuttoned your champagne coloured blouse, Tommy exhaling a low grunt as your hands unbuckled his pants. And in one swift motion he dropped you on his desk, your arms wrapped around his neck, grunts and moans and gasps the main soundtrack for the rest of the evening.
Afterwards, Tommy held you. His back against the couch with you laying in between his legs as the fireplace quietly crackled in the background. As you attempted to stand, Tommy pulled you back. “Where do you think you’re gonna, eh?”. He asked, no possessive intentions present in his tone, only playfulness.
“To clean your office, we made a mess”. You laughed, sweeping your hand out towards most of the documents and stationery that littered the floor, along with a few overturned chairs and the accidental spill of the ashtray onto the carpet. “And I rather Frances not know what we did”.
Tommy nibbled your ear, lips moving slowly along your collar bone. “I think the whole house already knows, love. We were quite loud”.
Cheeks blushing, you hid your face in his naked chest at the thought of facing the staff tomorrow. Tommy chuckled, fingers gliding up and down your back, arms holding you like they did the first couple of weeks during the nightmares when your panicked breaths would awaken a guilt-riddled Tommy in the middle of the night. But unlike then, the way Tommy held you now felt less driven by guilt and helplessness and more driven by intimacy and warmth.
428 notes · View notes
cosmostae · 7 months ago
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Summary: Engaged in the darkest fantasy you’ve ever had in public, you should not be surprised when you get caught by a stranger. But you’re surprised when he joins in...
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Kim Taehyung x Jeon Jungkook
Warnings: yandere behaviour, consensual non con, public sex, threesome, murder, explicit smut (dom! tae and dom! jk, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral sex - female and male receiving, anal sex, rough sex, humiliation, sexual degradation, mentions of breeding kink, some bondage, slutshaming, dirty talk, name calling), implied stalking
Word Count: 4.4K
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You weaved through the crowd like smoke, phantasmagorical in the hazy gloom. The club’s artificial lights flickered like fireworks upon the people’s skin. The beat of the music synchronised with the strobe lights, and they all danced like puppets on strings. Tangled bodies, pretending like they can hear what each other were saying. Empty black eyes, laughter spilling from their throats like vomit onto the dancefloor.
Wisps of hair clung to their faces, appearing like water nymphs with the way they glowed – when it was really the sweat oozing from their pores, drowning in a pool of alcohol which flowed into their blood like an IV drip.
The sway of your hips, hypnotic, as you strutted to the bar. You stood before the counter, sultry, like the air that surrounded you. Amber liquid shined in glass bottles, reminiscent of the perfume that people drenched themselves in, the scent of dying flowers and dying cigarettes piercing the air.
In a flash, the bartender appeared before you, dark eyes momentarily dropping to the low-cut neckline of your dress. But in the blink of an eye, they were back on your face again and patiently waiting for you to murmur your order.
You took a deep breath when he slipped away to work on your drink. Despite your excitement, you had also never done anything like this before and you needed the liquid courage to soothe your nerves. But that was part of the fun, to be freed from the invisible shackles of your inhibitions.
Your lips curled when your drink finally arrived. Anxiety swirled in your stomach but you tamped it down by throwing back your drink. It burned in the back of your throat, akin to when your throat was getting fucked by your boyfriend’s large cock.
At the thought, your pussy clenched with desire and you crossed your legs, in which if you were to spread them slightly, someone could easily see what was under your dress. You felt people’s eyes on you, and you basked in their gaze, like the silk spun from a thousand silkworm cocoons hugging your skin.
The night injected its youth into your soul, as you sipped on the drink, like you had all the time in the world. You weren’t drunk yet but you mused yourself in the impression that you were. Heavy-lidded eyes, cicadas buzzing in your ears with the anticipation vibrating in your belly.
You traced the rim of your glass with a crimson nail. Alcohol can be poison, similar to the lust which poisoned your veins. You no longer felt the guilt and shame that seemed so symptomatic with sex in our culture and being a woman who knew what she wanted. But you considered it to be a poison, with the way it infiltrated your mind like a fog that wouldn’t lift until you had a taste of what your body desired.
Your breathing grew heavier with the thought of what awaited and you stood up from your stool, adjusting your slinky silk dress over your thighs before approaching the toilets. The smell of Mary Jane in the air followed you.
Graffiti angrily climbed all over the tiled walls in the club’s female bathroom. You stood before the cloudy mirror and fished a tube of lipstick out of your handbag. You coated your mouth in red until it appeared like fresh blood on your lips. Taking in your reflection, you felt like a fantasy. You weren’t accustomed to dressing like this. On a day to day basis, oversized sweaters swallowed up your figure whilst you dressed conservatively at work. It was the only way you could feel safe in a society that blamed the victim for the way they dressed rather than the perpetrator’s actions.
However, clad in the cardinal colour that represented danger and sexuality, you felt like Lilith whom symbolised lust and carnal desire. You dripped in red like you’ve been cut open and pulled out from your repression and you were ready to paint the town with it.
Stepping out into the inky backdrop of night, the streets were empty. Silvery rays of moonlight spilled upon the ground, lighting the way as your heels click-clacked along the sidewalk. The lonely streets felt insulated and otherworldly with the bright streetlights shining in the mist and the storefronts devoid of displays and living beings. Every footstep sounded distant and the pavement seemed to glisten.
You were alone but you never knew what lurked in the shadows.
The starless night sky shined with city lights that glittered like the pigment on your lids. You passed by flickering neon signs and yawning skyscrapers underneath the velvet blanket of night. The sun may have set but exciting things quivered on the horizon. You knew this route, memorised it like a map on the back of your hand, always speeding up just before you reached the dark alleyway.
Your heartrate sped up like your footsteps. Your blinking eyes caught the slight shift in the shadows and before you knew it, a hand slapped over your mouth whilst a strong arm wrapped around your waist.
You attempted to scream but it was smothered by his large palm. You desperately tried to kick and twist in your attacker’s hold but he dragged you deeper into the alleyway, a cavernous mouth, consuming the two of you in the darkness with no way out.
The arm on your stomach slithered downwards to reach between your legs and roughly caress your panty-clad pussy. Your handbag dropped to the floor and he kicked it to the side. You whimpered, hands reaching up to the man’s wrist, red nails scratching his skin until you drew blood. He hissed into your ear.
Dropping his chin onto your shoulder, you wailed when his teeth sank into your neck, injecting the venom that was pain, paralysing you and making your thighs quiver.
Pulling his hand away from your inner thighs, he shoved it into his pocket to pull out his weapon. It glimmered like the moonlight in your eyes before he placed the sharp switchblade precariously close to your neck.
His voice was throat-rumbling deep as he uttered into your ear, “You’re going to do as I say. Not a fucking noise from that slutty mouth of yours. Got it, bitch?”
You frantically nodded your head. He pulled his hand off of your mouth but you did not dare to make a sound. You felt the tip of the blade under your chin as he yanked on your hair. You had a glimpse of his handsome face along with the tiger necklace that hung from his neck before he smashed his mouth against yours.
His tongue probed your lips, forcing its way into your mouth. You resisted him but it only made him pull you closer and kiss you harder, groaning as he fondled your breasts. He devoured you until your red lipstick smeared onto your face and your lips were in the vicious grip of his mouth, sucking on it hard until it was swollen and bruised. It was painful but the way he breathed hotly into your mouth was delicious.
He pinched your hard nipples which poked through your dress. “Excited, slut?”
Blood dripped down from the gashes onto his hand as he shoved it into your panties. You instinctively closed your legs. He growled, “Spread your fucking legs.”
You stood frozen, not moving an inch, chest heaving with fear. With his leather boots, he kicked your legs open, and you almost collapsed onto the ground if it wasn’t for him gripping on your hair. Tears trembled on the rims of your eyes. He barked, “I told you to do what I fucking say, didn’t I? You too dumb to listen to orders, whore? Only good for taking cock, huh? Let me feel how fucking tight you are.”
You gasped when he forced three of his fingers into your tight pussy.
He gritted, “I said quiet, slut.”
Your attacker rammed his fingers in and out of your cunt. Embarrassingly, you could feel your wetness running down your thighs. He placed his thumb firmly on your clit, rubbing it, and your body shuddered against his. He did not care about being gentle, or not hurting you as he fucked you open with his soaked digits.
“You want this, don’t you?”
He pulled his fingers out, only to push you up against the wall. You felt the cold bricks against your cheek. He yanked up your dress, slapping your buttocks, revealed through the g-string that you wore.  
“What a fucking slut. Just begging to be taken, aren’t you?”
Moving your panties to the side, he slapped your pussy over and over again. It burned even more with the rings that he wore on his fingers.
“Look at this fucking ass.”
Your breathing increased as he palmed each ass cheek. He spread you open so he could have an eyeful of your tight hole and spat on it. You heard the tell-tale sound of him unbuckling his belt and you squirmed when he snaked it around your wrists in a loop, pulling on it until the leather dug into your skin.
His fingers stroked your folds, gathering your wetness before he brought them up to the side of your face and ran his wet fingers down along your cheek.
“Your slutty body’s betraying you, bitch.”
He spun you around and pushed you onto your knees. You looked up at him, insides quivering when you saw that he was already looking down at you. He unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock out. He was thick and long. The head of his cock was flushed an angry red and he slapped it against your lips, splattering pre-cum all over you.
“Suck,” he ordered.
You shook your head and begged, “N-No, please let me go!”
In response, he slapped you right across the face. Your mouth fell open at the pain and he took that opportunity to shove in his cock until he hit the back of your throat. Tears rolled down your cheeks as he pushed your head back and forth onto his cock. You felt him grow harder every time his length slithered into your warm, wet mouth. He was fucking your throat until it gurgled.
His veiny shaft glistened with your spit, mixed with the red from your lipstick. Your mascara ran down your cheeks in dark rivulets.
He pinched your nostrils together, cockhead breaching the limits of your throat as you gagged and coughed around him. He watched you struggle, cock throbbing inside your abused throat until he finally pulled out with a pop.
One hand forced your jaw open while the other curled into your mouth.
He spat into your mouth and his saliva dripped down your tongue, into the back of your throat. You burned with humiliation. From the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a roll of duct tape and tugged on it until a strip landed on your mouth and then tore it off.
He ran his finger over your taped lips softly. “Don’t worry, slut. I’ll cum inside you and knock you up. Do you like the sound of that? Does that make you happy?”
You whimpered in refusal. But he merely chuckled. “Aw, you sound so excited. I’ll give you what you want, bitch.”
He pulled you up so you faced the entrance of the alleyway. Anyone who walked by would easily see you getting ravished. His fat cock rubbed against your wet slit before it entered you in one fluid thrust. It slipped in with barely any resistance, your pussy taking in every inch in surrender.
He cruelly laughed, “Your pussy’s so eager to be violated. You’re practically sucking me in. You want to be my cum dumpster, slut? Want me to use you like the whore you are? As you fucking wish.”
His cock slammed into your pussy so hard, you were screaming in pleasure behind the tape. He groaned deeply, grabbing your throat with his hand and squeezed as he pounded you harder. He had a bruising grip on your hips, roughly manoeuvring you back and forth on his length like you were nothing more than his cocksleeve. He set such a brutal pace that had you struggling to breathe and having mini-orgasms with every thrust.  
He rammed into you so hard, his balls were slapping against your swollen pussy and the noises of your sweaty bodies meeting each other reverberated into the night air. His warm breath on the side of your neck felt so hot, you were burning inside and out. It was reckless, so easy the two of you for to be caught. The rush of adrenaline burnt the anxiety within you and you were too lost in the euphoria of being completely possessed and overpowered to truly care.
Your heart pounded against your chest when his right hand left your hip. He hitched up your dress, watching the way his appetitive hips pressed into your abused ass every time he pulled out, in which your breathing stopped, and then slid back in, to which you’d cry out in ecstasy. He pulled your cheeks apart and let a dribble of his spit land onto your tight hole. He saw the way you involuntarily clenched and he snickered.
You heard him loudly suck on his fingers and you shivered when you felt the tips probe your ass, slowly wriggling inside you. His fingers shoved in deeper, your muscles relaxing and tightening with every thrust of his cock into your gushing cunt.
“I bet you like to take it in the ass, slut. Is this what you want? All of your holes being filled up and used?”
His hand latched onto your breast while his fingers fucked your ass open, palm-up. You felt the muscles in his strong, upper thighs as he continued to fuck your battered cunt. You felt all eight inches of him deep inside your guts and the hand that remained on your hip, moved its way to the moving bulge inside your tummy and pressed down on it. Your knees buckled, eyes clenched shut, on the brink of exploding all over his cock.
But your muffled moans ceased when your eyes landed on the dark figure that stood at the alleyway’s entrance. His shadow on the concrete stood menacingly before you. Your blood ran cold and Taehyung stopped moving inside you. Your gaze wandered from the stranger’s pointed toe boots to the leather pants that hugged his thick thighs and the matching leather jacket over a black top which did nothing to hide his muscular figure. Your eyes finally reached his face, framed by raven curls. Alarmed doe eyes, pretty cherry lips pressed together in anger.
Your pussy clenched and your boyfriend felt it.
“Get away from her!” the stranger yelled.
Before he could rush up to Taehyung and throttle him, your boyfriend said, “Hey! Calm down, man. It’s not what it looks like.”
You nodded in agreement and the stranger’s eyes caught the movement. You shivered when his dark eyes rested upon your figure, surely quite the sight with your taped mouth, tear stained face and your cum dripping down your legs. Your eyes shined, pleading him to believe the two of you.
The stranger’s nostrils flared. “W-What? What’s happening then?”
Taehyung calmly explained, “Have you ever heard of consensual non-consent?”
He cocked his head. “A rape fantasy?”
“Yeah, that’s what my girlfriend’s into. But of course, she doesn’t want to be raped nor does she condone it and I would never let that happen to her so we explore her fantasy through roleplaying. We have a safe word if she wants to stop.”
You nodded along to Taehyung’s words.
“But you fucking taped her mouth. How can she tell you?”
Taehyung sighed and kissed the side of your head. “Baby, show him.”
You lifted your hand and yanked on the necklace around your boyfriend’s neck.
The stranger exhaled. “So she actually wants this.”
“Yes,” Taehyung said, “And do you know what my fantasy is?”
Taehyung smirked, “Seeing another guy fuck my girlfriend.”
Taehyung’s words were the truth. While you enjoyed being overpowered and dominated, Taehyung loved watching you pleasure yourself, playing with your pussy for his eyes to admire, in the privacy of your home and in public spaces. He had also confessed to wanting to see another man fuck you. Taehyung was your first, and was well-aware of all the years that you had repressed your sexual desires, shamed by your family’s expectations to remain “pure” for a future husband. Taehyung wanted you to experience everything you had denied yourself and didn’t want to be the only man you’d ever slept with because it’d be exactly how your family wanted it.
You rejected the offer, stating that he was the only man you were attracted to and why wouldn’t he be? He was the most handsome man you had ever met and you had never desired anybody else until…
The stranger’s eyes widened. “I’m not going to do anything that she doesn’t want.”
Taehyung’s cock slipped out of your pussy. “Babe, spread your legs if you want him to touch your pussy.”
Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as you tentatively spread your legs open, exposing your wet pussy to the attractive stranger who couldn’t help but take you in with his hungry eyes. He whispered, “Fuck.”
You felt yourself growing wetter. Not only did it turn you on to be completely dominated, but just the very thought of being overwhelmingly desired by somebody had you weak in the knees.
Taehyung asked, “What’s your name?”
“Jungkook,” your boyfriend’s lips curled, “Put your fingers inside her and feel how tight she is.”
Evidently, your boyfriend trusted Jungkook and it was not difficult to do so when the Rolex on Jungkook’s wrist glinted in the darkness as his hand reached for your pussy.
You mewled when he finally touched you, fingers brushing your folds. Feeling your wetness, feeling your softness. His eyes flitted to your face as you mewled. He kept his gaze locked on yours, as his fingers slipped towards your entrance and pushed into your sopping wet pussy.
Jungkook groaned. “Fuck, baby, you feel so perfect.”
You moaned as Jungkook pumped his fingers in and out of you, without Taehyung’s permission. But Taehyung stood silently, watching your face twist in pleasure. Your pussy squelched lewdly as Jungkook fingered you, your ears able to pick up on his heavy breathing. His brows furrowed as his fingers moved faster, thumb rubbing your clit and your legs started to shake.
However, Jungkook stopped when he caught sight of the switchblade jutting out from Taehyung’s pocket. He reached it for it and Taehyung’s eyes flashed. Jungkook placatingly shook his head. “Don’t worry, I just want to do this…”
Springing out the cold steel blade, you watched as Jungkook dragged it down the front of your dress, slicing it all the way to the hem. Your tits popped out for his viewing pleasure.  
“Holy fuck, baby,” Jungkook said, “No bra?”
He shoved the switchblade into the pocket of his tight pants before swooping in to take a nipple into his mouth. You moaned as he sucked, licked and bit your sensitive nipples. His large hands played with your soft breasts while Taehyung proceeded to stretch your ass open. Jungkook placed hot, open mouthed kisses on your skin and made you squirm for him. Sucking and swirling his tongue on every inch, from where your heart beats in your chest, all the way down to your quivering stomach where finally dropped to his knees before you. Facing your pussy.
Jungkook nosed at your pussy, and inhaled deeply so he could fill his nostrils with the scent of your cunt. Jungkook held your thong to his nose like it was a freshly plucked flower and seemed to drool because of it.
His inked fingers spread your pussy lips apart and murmured throatily, “So fucking pretty.”
Rather than diving right in, his doe eyes watched your desperate reaction as he licked your inner thighs first, tasting your wetness. He kissed the soft insides of your thighs, calloused hands stroking your calves. With broad, flat strokes, his hot tongue licked around the outside of your dripping pussy. You writhed, pressing your pussy closer against his face and he chuckled.
Stiffening his tongue, he thrusted it in and out of your cunt and revelled in the way you dripped down his chin. You felt his tongue twist and churn inside your pussy. Your thighs shook all around him, threatening to suffocate him but something told you that Jungkook wouldn’t even care. His tongue continued to wriggle inside you while his hands reached upwards to palm your breasts and squeeze your nipples.
Your hips bucked against him and he pulled his tongue out, placing it flat against your pussy. You whimpered at how good it felt but grew frustrated at how he stopped moving. You pressed your pussy down onto his tongue once more and couldn’t help but roll your hips, riding his face. When he began lapping your wet folds like a dog, you realised that it was what he wanted in the first place. You continued to smother him with your cunt, while his tongue began to move upwards to your clit and licked it relentlessly fast with the tip of his tongue.
Your entire body quaked with your oncoming orgasm. But what you did not expect was for Jungkook to suck your clit into his mouth and hum, sending vibrations to the tips of your toes and you squirted all over his face. Your gushing pussy drenched him entirely in your liquid, dripping down his expensive shirt. But Jungkook simply moaned, trying to catch as much of your release as he could with his mouth and kept on licking you until you began quivering from overstimulation.
“Don’t deny her any longer, Jungkook,” Taehyung said, pressing the head of his cock against your tight ass, “She needs your cock.”
Your head was spinning as Jungkook stood up. He stared into your eyes and you nodded. Please. You saw the way his fingers trembled as he unzipped himself, tugging his hard and aching cock out of his tight jeans. In the darkness, you could only tell that he seemed to be thicker than your boyfriend but shorter by one or two inches. Jungkook stroked himself as he looked at you, caressing your cheek and leaning in to kiss your taped lips.
“Want me to fuck you, princess?”
You nodded and Jungkook whispered. “Good girl.”
He plunged his cock inside your cunt at the same time Taehyung’s cock entered your ass. There was no strength in your legs, the only way you stood up was by being sandwiched between the two men. Jungkook wrapped your right leg around his waist as he began fucking into you, grunting into the crook of your neck. “Shit, you feel like heaven, baby.”
Nose buried into Jungkook’s shirt, you thought that he smelled amazing and it was the only thing that reminded you to breathe as you breathed him in. You wanted to bite the mole on his glistening neck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of their cocks moved inside you. When Jungkook pulled out, Taehyung thrusted in. The heat of their fat cocks and their bodies was so overwhelming, you felt like you’d suffocate. But the hot-white pleasure at the edges of your vision was your salvation.
Taehyung’s hand wrapped around your neck, choking you, as he slammed inside your ass harder. Jungkook’s cock pressed into you so deeply with every thrust, that you could feel his pubic hair tickling your skin, and it had you clamping down on his length every time you did. But Jungkook’s thrusts quickened, until his cock became a moving blur inside your pussy and you screamed when Taehyung rubbed your clit.
Your pussy and ass tightened around both of their lengths as your entire body convulsed with pure ecstasy. You had never felt filthier, and more content, as both men groaned. Their cocks hardening, twitching before finally emptying their cocks inside you. Hot jets of cum shot out from their pulsing tips, painting your insides white. You tried to catch your breath, squeezing your thighs as you felt the overflowing amount of cum dribble out of you. Jungkook pulled out first, tucking himself back in. Whereas Taehyung’s lips moved tenderly along your neck, ready to free your wrists. Carefully, he removed his cock from your ass, flooded with cum.
Taehyung’s gaze was downcast as his fingers brushed your scraped skin. However, your eyes widened in alarm when Jungkook reached for the switchblade in his pocket. Before you could even scream, Jungkook stabbed it right into the side of Taehyung’s neck.
Taehyung collapsed onto the floor, blood gushing out of his wound, weakly gasping. Jungkook followed him to the ground, slashing his throat over and over again until crimson splattered against the walls and pooled around your beloved boyfriend’s body.
With your restrained wrists, you desperately tried to kick Jungkook. But it was hopeless, your boyfriend was already dead and when Jungkook turned around to look at you, you knew that you had to escape.
You began to run but was pushed onto the ground. You cried out in pain and Jungkook flipped you onto your back, hands cupping your face and running all over your body.
“Oh my gosh, angel. Thank god, you’re okay. Did you want to give me a heart attack, darling?”
You screamed hopelessly. Thrashing underneath him, Jungkook cooed and tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s okay, darling. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. But it’s just you and me now, hm?”
He picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. In a few steps, he pulled open a car door and carefully placed you in the backseat. Underneath his car seats, you saw rope and bottles of chloroform.
Jungkook smiled sweetly, “Rest, angel. We’ll be at our new home soon.”
He slammed the door shut before making his way to the driver’s seat.
When he pulled up his phone to enter in the address of wherever he was bringing you to, you caught of glimpse of his phone’s wallpaper.
It was a photo of you.
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