#truly the t-shirt of corsets

[marzipanandminutiae]

Area Woman Wearing Custom "Pretty Housemaid" Corset; Comfiness Levels Off The Charts

#historical costuming #historical fashion #victorian #corset #(the one I made) #(I have it on to alter an antique corset-cover someone gave me #so I don't have to change all over again to check the fit when I'm done) #(waste no corset-cover; want no corset-cover) #truly the t-shirt of corsets

[lovelytsunoda]

naughty list // oscar piastri

summary: oscar's bored, horny and hopelessly smitten with his lover. but if he keep this up, he's going to land them both on santa's naughty list this year.

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

prompt: "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip."

warnings: soft smut, praise overload, christmas lingerie, oscar is a big simp, sex on a shag carpet, oscar 'if she's not enjoying herself, neither am i' piastri,

author's note: am i incapable of writing anything wholesome about this man? possibly.

oscar piastri was head over heels for his girlfriend.

perhaps that's how he got himself into this situation, on the couch by the fire on a cold london winter, christmas tree lit up behind the couch, tennis on the tv. fresh gingerbread cookies sat on the island, filling the ground-floor apartment with their familiar and warm scent.

y/n had slipped away just moments before, kissing his forehead and promising a surprise, her nervous giggle punctuating the end of the sentence as she slipped away to the bedroom.

a nervous giggle that made him wonder, if, perhaps, the surprise was a little on the naughtier side. his lover wasn't one for wild bedroom escapades, but the fact that she might have been trying to spice it up a little for him?

it drove him fucking wild. worried him slightly, yes, because he didn't want her to push herself too far out of her comfort zone if she wasn't ready, but excited him nonetheless.

meanwhile, in the bedroom, she was nitpicking everything, standing anxiously in front of the mirror as she twirled her hair. the red set stood out against her skin, and while the corset was almost no different than many of the shirts that she wore, she wasn’t sure how to feel about the lacy panties, leaving so much skin exposed.

she’d never been a lingerie person. she wished she could be, but even stepping into victorias secret sent her in a self-critical spiral. no, until now she had tended to stick to skimpy pajama sets, never as exposed as she was now.

she thought she was being ridiculous, oscar had seen her naked, for lords sake.

but even still, looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she should have picked the set with the silk robe.

she closed her eyes, counting to ten before she reached for the santa hat on the bed, pulling it over her head and dangling the pom pom on the end over her shoulder.

when she gently trod back into the living room, she cleared her throat to get oscars attention. the driver looked up from his phone, choking on his kale smoothie when he saw her. he promptly dropped his phone, getting to his feet and ambling over to her.

“y/n, love, you look stunning.” his touch was gentle, starting at her hands before running gently along her skin, index finger tracing hearts on her exposed side. “you’re so beautiful, and I’m happy you feel comfortable enough with me to let me see you like this. it’s a privilege I count myself lucky to have.”

she sighed into his touch, fingers messing with the lapel of his flannel. the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arms flexing sharply as his fingers continued to soothe her skin.

“I thought I’d try something new.” she said sheepishly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “you like it?”

“baby, I adore it.” oscar beamed, leaning in to softly press his lips to hers. she tasted like peppermint, and smelled like vanilla bean as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. “my gorgeous girl.” he growled, biting gently on her bottom lip. “all mine.”

smiling sweetly, she pulled oscar closer, wrapping her arms around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck, pressing gentle kisses to his cheek. the aussie hummed contentedly, his large, warm hands trailing over her back.

he was well and truly smitten.

she looked like a christmas angel, wrapped in red and white, the cutsey santa hat propped on her head. who knew santa hats could be so sexy on the right woman?

"i love you." he hummed, moving to gently kiss her neck, smiling to himself as she propped up on the tips of her toes, gasping softly as his tongue ran over her pulse point. "my darling, darling girl." he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. "maybe i should dress up next time? get that whole magic mike kinda vibe going on."

she giggled, moving one dainty hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed. god, that laugh. oscar was getting painfully hard just listening to her giggle.

she stepped back, and oscar followed, gently pressing her up against the wall. she winced at the cold plaster pressing up against her smooth skin, but the discomfort was soon forgotten as her lover leaned over her, one hand bracing him against the wall and the other under her chin to tilt her face up. she beamed, trying to hold back her giddy giggles as she stared into his wonderous eyes.

"pretty girl, love of my life." oscar started softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip, aye?"

"that's your smoothest holiday line yet." she nodded with a laugh, enthusiastically pulling him closer to her, eliminating the space between their bodies as best she could. "i love you." she said quickly, pressing her lips to his as his hands began to rove her front, fumbling with the strings of the corset top.

she gently pushed his hands away, watching as his eyes grew three sized when she pushed the cups of the corset bra down, nipples pebbling in the cold air, silhouetted against she stunning red of her top.

"you'll be the death of me, sweet thing." oscar laughed, running his hands over her skin. "tell me what you want, pretty girl."

"you, oscar. touching me. kissing me." she sucked in a breath as he bent down, sucking a hickey onto her supple skin, his thumb gently running over her nipple. "making me yours."

oscar groaned, laving his tongue over her sensitive bud, one hand reaching to hold hers close. "sweetheart, just let me take care of you, yeah? give you exactly what you need." he detached from her breast, a line of saliva trailing from her bud to oscar's tongue. he used one hand to wipe his mouth before kissing the back of her hand. "give my sweet perfect angel the full princess treatment."

she smiled down at him as he sank to his knees, nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of her thigh, her fingers carding through his hair. "baby, you left one of the girls unloved." she playfully pouted at him, nudging her other breast. "you don't want the one on the left to think you love the one on the right more, do you?"

oscar laughed, rising to his feet before taking her left breast in his hand. "you're so right, love. wouldn't want one of the girls to feel underappreciated. i hope they know how loved they are."

"you're such an idiot."

"yeah, but you're the one who gets turned on by me acting like a complete and utter fool."

"shut up and kiss me, pretty boy."

"yes ma'am."

oscar kissed her, his hands slipping down to the globes of her ass, lifting her into the air. she squealed, wrapping her legs around him so he was carrying her like a koala, her fingertips gripping his still-clothed shoulders.

well, she couldn't have that. why was she the only one showing any skin?

he set her down on the shag carpet, warmth from the fire gently hearing her chilled skin, hair fanning out behind her head. oscar wasted no time, shedding his flannel and t shirt before he dove right in, wrapping his lips around the tip of her breast. she gasped, arching into him with one hand gripping the carpet and the other in his hair.

“atta girl.” oscar exhaled, sucking another hickey onto her skin. in his opinion, his job wasn’t done until her tits were covered in proof of his undying love. “that’s my pretty girl.”

“need you, baby.” she pleaded, grinding up against his jeans, the denim rubbing at her sensitive core through her lace panties.

she was so shamefully soaked after oscars devotion to her breasts, and she needed some kind of release. she was almost certain that there was a damp spot forming on her lovers jeans as she ground against him.

oscar leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping his fingers underneath the fabric of her panties.

“you look too pretty in this set to take it off, baby.” he hummed, kissing over the red fabric, nuzzling into her skin as he rubbed his thumbs over her hipbones. “might just have to push them aside, but they’ll get stained badly when I make you see stars.”

“jesus, oscar, just do something!” she groaned, running her finger along his nose. “please?”

“anything for my girl.” he pushed her panties aside, gently pressing his lips to her sopping wet center, his tongue darting out to trace a heart on her lips.

she moaned, throwing her head back, her pelvis rising off the carpet to try and build more friction against her lover. she moaned his name, eyes fluttering closed as she began to see the stars he had promised her.

she was so lucky to have a man like oscar. a man who made her feel so confident in herself, treated her like a queen, and made sure that she got the calm, quiet love that she craved.

“fuck, baby. you taste fucking incredible.” he groaned, holding her thighs open, thumbs rubbing reassuring circles on her soft skin.

oscar could have spent all day between her thighs. hed always been a giver, but when he had the chance to spoil y/n, he was almost certain it made him way hotter than it made her. what could he say, acts of service was his love language.

and when she wrapped her thighs around his head, practically screaming his name, his tongue licking fat stripes up and down her opening, and over swollen her swollen clit?

he had to start thinking about tyre degradation to avoid coming in his jeans.

“fuck, oscar, baby.” she whined, tugging on his hair as his nose nudged her sensitive bud. (he moaned at the action) “just like that. god, that feels so fucking good.”

she could feel the band in her stomach begin to tighten, her thighs closing in around oscars head as pleasure spread around her lower body.

oscars tongue darted in and out of her, the lewd sounds filling the room. “are you going to come for me, pretty girl. yeah? yeah, that’s right, come on my tongue, princess.”

he slipped a finger in, and the sensation of his finger flexing while his tongue played with her sensitive, puffy clit made her cry out, rutting her hips into his face, grinding against his finger and trying to get herself off.

“oscar, im coming!” she cried, the coil in her stomach finally snapping as she cried out his name, fingernails leaving scratches in the skin on the back of his neck.

his hands gripped her thighs; he was holding himself up over the carpet on his forearms, his body shaking she coated the bottom of his face in evidence of her arousal. he moaned at the taste, sitting up on his knees and catching her eyes before sticking his finger in his mouth and sucking the salty fluid off his finger.

she smiled at him, face rosy and flushed. her limbs felt like jelly, arms giving out underneath her as she tried to prop herself up to kiss him. chuckling to himself, oscar braced his hands on either side of her head, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her cheeks, and then the tip of her nose before, finally, her lips.

“I love you.” they both whispered, one after another, the room silent save for the low hum of the tv and the crackling in the fireplace.

“baby, as much as I would love to stay here with you, I am absolutley throbbing and if I am not inside of you in the next five minutes, I am going to lose it.” oscar chuckled, kissing her softly.

she smiled, giggling as he ran his hands over her flushed skin. “you know you’re going to throw your back out if we do this on the floor, right?”

“yeah, but it will be so totally worth it.” oscar laughed, kissing her forehead softly. “stay right here, and keep warm. I’ll be right back.”

she hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave, eyes zeroing in on both his impressive back muscles and the way his jeans hugged his backside. how did she get so lucky to land such a god of a boyfriend?

when he vanished into the bedroom, she stripped out of the corset, cringing when she noticed the reddened imprints left on her skin from where the wires dug into her. she pulled the santa hat off, dropping it pathetically to the carpet before pulling a blanket around her shoulders. she was slowly regaining feeling in her limbs, a feeling of contentment spreading through her stomach as oscar came back, a festive box in his hands,

“right, so your choices are peppermint, gingerbread and eggnog.” he grinned, tossing her three small packages before slipping out of his jeans.

her limbs tingled as she watched him undo his belt, his rock-hard cock straining against his flannel boxers. it was only when oscar sat down next to her, stealing half of the white knit throw blanket to wrap around his own shoulders, that she looked down at the packages in her hands.

they were christmas themed condoms, a reindeer face smiling up at her from the gingerbread one. she couldn’t help it when she burst out laughing, sniffing the peppermint package.

“oscar! what the fuck?” she managed through laughter. “you know the flavoured bit only counts if I’m sucking your dick right? and that’s not happening tonight.”

“they were a gag gift from lando.” oscar laughed, fiddling with one of the foil packets. “I brought out normal ones too; I don’t know how much I trust these ones anyways.”

she laughed, leaning over to kiss him. “thank you.”

“anything for my girl.” oscar deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to gently and politely explore the inside of her mouth, pushing her down onto the carpet once again, thigh pushing her legs apart.

he grinded against her sensitive core, trying to find some sort of relief for himself while also making sure that he lasted more than a minute when he finally got inside of her.

her legs curled around his waist, pulling him him closer as they made out, warm and sweaty skin sticking to each other as they warmed up by the fire.

he didn’t even need to pull away to make a grab for the discarded red hat, only drawing back to put it on before he extracted his cock from his boxer shorts.

she giggled, sitting up so she could take him in her hands, jerking him slightly before ripping open a condom package (just a regular one, not the peppermint one she knew he had been eyeing).

laughing to herself, she twirled the end of the hat in her fingers. “I should not find this as hot as I do. just so you know.”

“duly noted. are you ready for me, princess?”

she smiled at him, slipping out of her lacy panties before she straddled him, his sheathed cock teasing at her entrance, shivers running up her spine. “I wanna be on top. wanna ride your cock.”

and who was oscar to argue?

he gripped her hips, her hands on his shoulders as he positioned himself by her entrance. she was so wet that he slid right in, her fingernails leaving crescent marks on his shoulders as she winced, hiding her face in his neck.

“I know, sweet girl.” he moved his hands up and down her back. “i know it’s a lot to take, but you’re doing it so so well. you make the first move, sweetheart.”

she straightened her back, touching her nose to oscars as she began to slowly grind her hips, getting used to every inch of his dick splitting her in half.

“that’s it, pretty girl. nice and easy.” oscar groaned, palming her ass. “that’s it.”

with oscars hands guiding her, she began to pick up the pace, pulling up before sinking back down against his cock.

“fuck, baby, feels so good.” she whined, fingers tugging at the hairs on the nape of his neck. “feels so deep.” she reached for his hand, pressing it to her stomach to show oscar just how deep he actually was.

“yeah? yeah, this cock is all yours, baby. whenever you want it, you tell me. I’ll drop everything to give it to you.” he grunted, one hand gently smacking her ass. she yelped, hips startling before she smashed her lips to his, moving her hips in subtle circles.

he moaned into her mouth, thrusting up to meet her hips halfway, watching as her mouth dropped open in a guttural moan. “you like that, sweet girl? yeah, you just let me take over and fuck you until you’re all blissed out.”

he took the lead, planting his feet on the floor, one hand supporting his weight and the other holding his princess close, her perky, sensitive nipples pressed against his chest as he thrust up, his cock sliding in and out of her like it was nothing.

“oh, yes.” she whined.

“that’s my pretty girl. that’s my fucking girl.” he growled, rolling over so he was on top again. normally he loves it when she rode him, loved the intimacy that came with it.

but he was so pent up that he needed something more.

he slipped her legs over his shoulders, muscles rippling as he leaned forwards to thrust into her, balls slapping against her skin.

her hands gripped his shoulders, slipping down his chest and leaving little pink marks in their wake as he pounded in and out of her, the pom pom on the end of his festive hat dangling in her face

“fuck, I love being like this with you.” he rasped, fingers digging into the shag carpet. “being this close to you.” he started to kiss up the side of her throat, tongue occasionally darting out to lick the sweat off her skin. “you’re so fucking pretty like this, all blissed out and at peace on my cock. love making you feel good, honey.”

he allowed her legs to slide off his shoulders, leaning down to kiss her, swallowing her moan as he bit down on her lip.

“shit, I love your cock, oscar. I love having it inside of me. needed it so bad!” she cried, clinging to his upper body as she let him have his way with her.

she knew he knew what she wanted, what she liked. he could read her like the back of his hand, and she was so blessed to feel safe enough with him that she could just clear her mind and let oscar make her feel good.

“that’s my girl. taking it so well. how are you feeling, princess?”

“perfect.” she breathed, inhaling sharply as his cock brushed up against her walls. “absolutley perfect.” her eyes slammed shut as her walls started to contract, squeezing oscar’s cock for all it was worth

“are you going to come, pretty girl? come all over my thick cock?”

“yeah.” she whined, tears of pleasure pricking the corners of her eyes as he kept slamming into her. “yeah, I’m almost there.”

she almost didnt get to finish her sentence, oscars lips claiming hers against his own as he kissed her deeply, one feee hand coming down to play with her clit. she gripped his biceps tightly, moaning harshly against his lips as she felt herself clamp down on him, seeing stars as she started to let go.

“that’s it, princess. let go for me, cover my cock in your sweet sweet come. give it to me, sweet girl. I’ve got you,”

she came with a cry of his name, feeling her body go weak as all her energy evaporated. the motion triggered oscar’s own orgasm, his entire body shaking as he grunted (arguably louder than she did, back muscles rippling as his body tightened and then went slack) spilling into the latex shield before his arms gave out and he collapsed against her.

“I love you.” he mumbled, kissing her softly before gently pulling out. he reached behind him for the blanket, tucking it around her body before sliding a throw pillow underneath her head. “hang tight for me, baby. I’m gonna go make you a hot chocolate.”

he slipped the condom off, balling it up with the intention of chucking it in the garbage on his way to the kitchen, pulling his boxers back on before washing his hands and pulling two mugs out of the upper cabinets.

y/n watched him from her position on the floor, a soft smile on her face as she marvelled at the scratches on his back, and the pure soft domesticity of watching her lover make her a hot drink after he made her see stars.

he came back minutes later, with two mugs piled high with whipped cream and a foolish smile on his face.

“merry christmas, pretty girl.” he hummed, kissing her softly, not expecting anything more than what it was.

“merry christmas, oscar.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @twinkodium @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @thatsdemko @oconso @sidcrosbyspuck

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri #f1 smut #formula one x reader #formula 1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #the christmas collection 2023 #Spotify #lovelytsunodas eclectic music taste

[chaomother]

the chalice is filled with our blood

「lancelot (shadow t hedgehog) x gn!reader // a little suggestive」

Standing before your gargantuan mirror, twines of ornate lace sprouted and supported its mass; each carving of fine wood reflecting its grandiose state, and yet you couldn’t help disassociate as you stared back at the person cocooned in such opulence.

Wretched sorrow flooded your chest crevice, festering around your heart until you felt bubbles of nausea coat your throat. And from behind you, the only knight entrusted with watch over King Arthur’s only child was busy unbuttoning the taut corset suffocating your body.

“I’m sorry to make you do this, Lancelot,” you contritely apologized as you felt a tremble inflict itself into your fingers, “All of the maids were occupied preparing for the prince’s arrival and—” 

“It’s fine,” Lancelot’s rough voice interjected your confession, finding it increasingly difficult to stay riveted on the task at hand with how you quivered. It was revolting, the way you were vulnerable and powerless.

As instructed by your puissant father, you were to be wed to the prince of a neighboring kingdom in efforts to expand his reach across the continent. Lancelot believed that his King’s orders were absolute, and yet…

Heaving a sigh, the sensation of Lancelot’s metal gloves trailing along your shoulders to dip down the fabric of your shirt evoking chills down the column of your spine, you gave a crushed, weak smile, “Am I not pathetic? I’m suppose to become a part of the ruling party, but I can’t even get undressed by myself.”

“What else am I here for, your grace?” Lancelot was growing agitated and irate from this conversation, this situation. “I truly don’t mind.”

Disrobing you of your garments shouldn’t have been something you’d ever asked of your beloved knight, the one who’d been protecting you since your childhood, and yet the exhaustion of this upcoming wedding had unmistakably depleted you of all your strength.

Lancelot had been staunchly by your side through everything thus far in your life, and you couldn’t truly be more grateful to have him with you through this dreadful point of life. Of course you didn’t want to marry some man you’ve only met a handful of times, but your father was insistent on this nuptials.

“You don’t think…” you started, trepidation inundating your stomach cavity at the mere notion that saying your thoughts might manifest them into reality, “... Father will make you stay here in the kingdom, do you?”

Perhaps it was simply the thought of losing Lancelot that plagued you with misery.

“I can’t say for certain,” Lancelot said as he observed attentively to how the final article of clothing plummeted to the ground around your feet, leaving you only in your undergarments before him. “But I’ll dutifully follow the King’s first order: Protect [Name].”

“Hehe, thank you, Lancelot…” you chortled feebly, the normally heavenly sound fading deep into the tension. And Lancelot couldn’t stop himself from clenching his fists by his side, seething.

Lancelot wasn’t naive—he knew you didn’t believe him when he vowed to stay with you—but the thought of following you to the ends of the world made his aching heart feel a little lighter. Even if he was staying by your side as nothing more than your knight, not lover or husband.

Was the ultimate knight really such a weak creature?

Satisfied with nothing more than empty, spurious wishes?

As he peered over your shoulder, transfixed on your dewy-eyes, Lancelot felt spirals of resolve skate over his insides in short, frenzied bursts. Impelled by the force within him, Lancelot stepped forward and encircled his arms around you tightly from behind.

“Don’t thank me for something I haven’t yet proved to you,” Lancelot murmured against the shell of your ear, eliciting a plethora of goosebumps to rise to your body. “I swear to you now, my grace, I won’t ever leave your side. Your dreams and wishes are my guiding light, they’re my priority.”

Hearing him pledge himself to your sole allegiance made your heart flutter with rapture, and you asked, “What will you do to make me trust your oath?” Lancelot truly didn’t have to do anything, you believed him with your whole being.

“This,” he breathed coolly, lips attaching themselves into the crook of your neck. With one hand on your chest, Lancelot slid the other one down to your navel; going lower, and lower…

#lancelot x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedgehog #sonic x reader #x reader #gn reader #suggestive #drabbles

[etherealinowrites]

simply, lino thigh riding

the thigh riding kink itself was made specifically for this man I swear

-anon♾️

oh god LEE FUCKING MINHO AND HIS HUGE ASS MUSCLY THIGH istg i truly believe that thigh riding kink was made for minho.

22 inches😮‍💨

you know how to move kitten | lee minho | m

pairing- female reader x leeknow

genre- smut, pwp

summary- you loved how your boyfriend looked in thigh chains and corsets and you just couldn’t control yourself.

sexual content warnings- smut, pwp, heavy making out, use of pet name- kitten, thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, body worship.

song recommendation- slow by chase atlantic

taglist- @eastleighsblog @cocainee-queen @dreamescapeswriting

you sloppily kissed minho, not letting him have a moments rest as you hastily pushed him against the door.

“easy easy angel.” he chuckled, not dodging any of your kisses but in fact, responding with enthusiasm. “what’s the rush?”

“need you.” you mumbled out, lips never leaving his as you slipped your hands under his shirt, feeling his taut skin tense up under your touch. “been too long.”

minho hummed in agreement, letting his hands come up to your waist as he pulled you closer. “but i think you’re trying to rush it too much don’t you think? i’d rather-.” he began to pry your hands slowly off him, making you hiss in protest to which he replied with a dry smile. “-take it slow and savour the moment.”

“oh come on minho, there’s no need to-.” you impatiently tugged on his t shirt, trying to ignore the way your gut lit up at his words. he ignored your protests, guiding you to the bed as he sat down on the edge of it, his corset and thigh chain clinking in the process.

your gaze settled on his thick thighs as he spread his legs, letting the cold metal fall on his muscles and you gulped, making minho smirk smugly. “come here kitten.” he motioned you to come to him with a single finger. “i won’t ask again, we both know who’s in charge here right?” and there it was, his dangerously sweet tone that made your stomach crawl and mind waver, that prompted you to fall down to your knees and beg because this man was irresistible.

you nodded meekly, eyes wide like a dear caught in headlights. all your urgent dominance gone as you stated at your boyfriend clad in your favourite accessories on him. “yes minho.” you quietly added, knowing well enough that you had be vocal if you wanted to get anything from him.

he sighed in satisfaction, looking at you with a fond smile that hid his lustful intentions with a soft gaze. you sat around him, straddling his lap as he tucked his your hair behind your ear, patting it down softly with care. “so pretty.”

you gushed at his words, words that always made you feel empowered and in control of your own body. though you were sure that you will be submitting to his cruel mercy through the night.

his lips found yours, nipping away at the pleasure till all you could do was hold his shoulders in breathless wonder, stopping for breaths while his hands roamed your body, setting you alight in pin pricks of desire.

“oh my god minho.” you whimpered, feeling his lips trail down from your jaw to your neck, feeling him play with your skin and his teeth as he hummed, making your skin vibrate with anticipation.

“you’re so beautiful kitten, so beautiful. i could kiss you all day.” he whispered in a hushed tone. coming back up to press a deep kiss to your lips as if to prove a point.

you’d begun grinding against him now, you’d played enough and now you wanted to get on with it but he just didn’t seem to do that.

minho apparently had other plans as he told you to sit down on his thigh. “do you wanna cum angel?” he’d asked as you rolled your body against him for the hundredth time.

“uh huh.” you mumbled and when you felt him squeeze your thighs, he said, “words, kitten. use your words.”

“yes minho.”

“then you ride my fucking thigh.” he rasped, lips near your ear as he pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to your ear, making you shudder in suddenness before he leaned back.

a smug expression on his face, thighs spread open as he waited for you to ride him with an eyebrow raised. “go on, you know what you have to do kitten.” he urged, softly patting your cheek as you settled yourself on his right thigh.

“yes, perfect, that’s it. now start moving”. he instructed, making you move and you almost mewled at the pleasure that hit you at the contact of your bare pussy with jeans.

you continued loving against him as he pressed kisses to your neck, sometimes your face. his lips never stopped whispering praises in your ear as he urged you on, cooing how wonderful you were and when he suddenly made you shift a little so that you were perched on his cold metal chain, you swear to god you saw the stars.

“how does it feel love?” he cooed smugly as he knew well enough about the effect he had on you.

cheeks flushed, you rubbed your bare self against his thigh, hair falling into your face as you chased your pleasure with an urgency.

“you look so pretty like this, my lovely kitten. getting herself off on my thigh. do you like seeing me in chains or do you just like my thighs huh?” he asked, knowing well enough how badly this stirred you towards your orgasm.

“or maybe you just like how my thigh feels around your bare pussy, with these cold metal chains around them that touch you down there with a buzzing glare-.” he was interrupted by your loud whine as you came, curling your back in anticipation as he held you close, not leaving you until the end.

“see kitten, patience pays off.”

—

a/n: THIS PROMPT WAS EVERYTHING. THIS REQUEST WAS EVERYTHING PLEASE THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON ♾ THIS REQUEST GOT ME THROUGH SUCH A TOUGH TIME AND IT TURNED OUT SO WELL PLEASE I HAVE TO MAKE THIS INTO A FULL FIC-

#skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #minho smut #leeknow smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #minho scenarios #minho imagines #minho x reader #minho drabbles #minho fanfiction #leeknow smut imagine #leeknow drabbles #leeknow scenarios #leeknowfanfiction #skz leeknow #leeknow imagine #leeknow smut drabble #skz smut drabble #skz smut imagine #skz smut scenario

[conretewings]

A Vander x chubby/midsized fem reader who's insecure? She's trying to get better about how she views herself since Vander doesn't like the way she looks down on her body; so she buys some lingerie but she ends up hiding it since she thinks she doesn't look good, and Vander finds it? I love your work a lot by the way :))

-ASDFGIQRKL thank you dear follower 😭❤ I apologize profusely for this taking so long I've been...going through it *nervous laugh* BUT here we go and I hope you enjoy:

VANDER X FEM!READER (chubby reader, body positivity, suggestive content)

-She sighs for the dozenth time, holding up to herself the two outfits she was trying to decide between in front of the chipped full length mirror. This was an important occasion after all, so she felt she had to look her best.

Should it be; the worn but still in good shape rust-red corseted corduroy dress, with embroidered trim along the deep V neckline and hems?

Or; the deep green and black, knee-length heavy cotton skirt and her good semi white blouse? Either would work with her clean boots and only unripped pair of stockings but which...?

Lowering them both, she stares forlornly at her thin t-shirt and shorts clad reflection, her belly, muffin top and all her thickness painfully apparent and laments, "Oh, it doesn't matter..."

"What doesn't matter?" came a deep voice from the doorway.

She glances to the side at the second reflection now visible, turning her head to properly look at the figure that just walked in and closed the door behind him, her face heating up; Vander smiles curiously at her, his own shirt completely unbuttoned and she has to fight back biting her lip. He comes up behind her and rests his broad hands on her shoulders, giving the top of her head a peck then catches her gaze in the mirror.

"Well...?" he asks, not dropping it.

Her eyes fall to the warped wood floor, "I...no matter what I wear it'll look...I'm still-"

"Hey, hey now-" he interrupts sternly, knowing all too well where she was going and shaking his head, "Love, we've talked about this. Ya know I hate it when you put yourself down 'n it just hurts you too."

"I know! But...I still just wish I could not be...ya know." She pats her belly for emphasis.

Vander turns her around to face him and gives his own 'dad bod' stomach a hearty slap, "You still think I'm attractive despite this ol' sixpack turnin' into, well, this. So what makes you think I don't find you to be the most gorgeous woman I've ever been lucky enough to know eh?"

She cracks a smile now herself, and he tilts her chin up with his knuckles, "You've been doin' better lately, not bein' so hard on yourself. I'm proud of ya for it. But ya gotta keep it up right? I'll keep tellin' ya as many times as needed you're beautiful got it?"

"Thank you, Papa Hound..." she grins, genuinely this time, and steps into his offered hug. Turning back to the mirror, she blows out a breath and holds up the skirt and blouse combo, "This one."

"Perfect," he nods, buttoning up his shirt to her silent disappointment, "Now let's get this show goin'."

After a lovely, relaxing and much-needed date, during which he'd only once; okay maybe twice technically, had to mumble apologies for having to take a moment to break up a dispute, they slowly make their way back towards home when she spies something in a barred store window that she'd normally ignore but today...

Ever observant, he notes her attention focused on something nearby and asks, "Everythin' alright love?"

"Yeah! Yeah just saw something interesting-" she panics but hides it, quickly trying to find anything else to point out and gestures to the food stand next door, "-on the menu! Maybe I'll grab some for the kids tomorrow."

Vander nods, "They'd like that. Better make sure they all get even shares or it'll be a squabble."

She laughs, assuring him she'd be completely fair, and they both continue the trip as she takes one last glance at the items she'd truly been studying...

The next afternoon, she stands in front of the mirror again, this time sporting a very different look. She blushes fiercely with a mixture of embarrassment, disbelief at her own boldness, and a streak of surprise at how well the skanty, black and red lingerie looks on her. Earlier she'd snuck back to her true target from the day before, the clothing shop she'd spotted this little number in the window of and after an awkward purchase where she'd tried to hide her face as much as possible, she'd dashed home to try it on, grateful that Vander was busy and the kids out somewhere. She'd also snapped up a bag of the spicy snacks from the stand next door to keep her cover story intact, and it wasn't completely a lie; she had been thinking of grabbing them a treat anyway.

Now she spins, checking how it looks and imagining the look on Vander's face when she stepped into view wearing...

The self-consciousness creeps back in as she sees how snug the lingerie is, and how her body shape is all the more glaringly evident. She curses herself silently for ever thinking this would work and wasting the money. Sighing, her shoulders droop-

Abruptly there's a rapid knocking on the door coupled with the voices of Mylo and Claggor calling her and talking loudly over each other. She yells to hold on, swiftly changing back into regular clothes. In her rush she curses, looking around before hurriedly stuffing the negligee into the first dresser drawer she sees and hurries out of the room, making a note to return to hide it elsewhere...

-Several hours later, Vander trudges into their shared room, exhausted from the long day and chaos of a fight that had erupted wherein the participants had refused to take it outside-so he'd 'helped' by tossing them out the door, earning them sore backsides and a couple month ban.

He kicks off his boots, then tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it in the pile next to a basket that served as a hamper. Still grumbling and cursing under his breath he slides the top dresser drawer open-

And his eyes widen, brow cocked in surprised curiosity at the garment he finds there that's most certainly not his. He pulls it out, finally realizing what the lacy, gauzy pieces of fabric are as heat rushes to his face-and other areas. How long had she had this? And how would it look on her in person instead of in the lovely, increasingly sinful images running through his head? He exhales in a shudder, feeling the blood quickly rushing downward, stunned at how much of an affect this alone had on him, and was starting to put it back when she walks in with a yawn.

"I swear, if those two have the balls to show up anytime soon I will-"

She halts, seeing him holding the lingerie and flushes fiercely, hand flying to her mouth and mumbling out a jumbled rush of excuses, "Oh! Oh Van I uh, ha, yeah I can explain it-it's just-I was gonna take it back it was j-just an experiment yeah but it doesn't work-I can't-"

In a couple strides he's in front of her, hands on her waist and pulling her against himself, thumbs running over her hips, leaning in and dropping his voice to that low, gruff octave he knew she enjoyed, "But love, ya can't take it back...not after what I may do to you with it..."

"Wait-r-really? You like it?" she sputters, "I mean, the problem is it...doesn't really work for...you know, me..."

Vander draws a deep breath, letting it out in a soft growl and she feels the goosebumps prick her skin from the almost feral gleam in his eyes, "Firstly, what did we talk about yesterday? Secondly..." he pulls her in closer and she gives a groan feeling how hard he already is pressed against her belly, the sound doing nothing to help this, "I think this is good enough proof I like the idea of it on ya, darlin'..and the only problem is you're not gonna be wearin' it for long after ya put it on...now, been a long day yeah? What say we get ready for bed..?"

At last her lingering pain begin to melt away as she sees not just the lust, but the sincere love in his gaze, and the doubt is replaced by a glow of confidence blooming in her chest and she smiles suggestively up at him, "I think that's a perfect idea..."

@mooshroom-cows @archerofthemists @immortalbumblebee @vander-affectionate @barbersjoy @jarlyne @lucklesslongshot @shitfacedanon @katattacker

Sorry if I forgot anyone I'll add as I remember

#arcane fanfiction #arcane vander #arcane vander x reader #vander arcane #ask and you shall receive #mildly spicy #plus size reader #hello friend I hope you like this #I had a lot of fun writing it

[callmeoceanplease]

Techwear and Goth

A visual aid for those looking to get into or differentiate the styles

**Before I start this is going to be controversial but I need to say it because Goth and Techwear have become heavily mislabeled and mixed up**

Now, I'd like to start by saying you can call what you wear whatever, this isn't a guide, but if you want to be truly goth or truly techwear, this is a post for you.

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

It's sad to see that being goth has boiled down to just slapping on some black lipstick, dark eyeshadow, frilly clothes and big heels.

Like, most real goths will agree their fashion is mostly about old corsets, victorian-esque dresses, dark makeup, religious symbolism, dark and mysterious depiction, whereas a lot of goths today are just "big black dresses and bats, dark colors and black lipstick, mmm yes".

Cross necklaces, corsets, frilly dress skirts, religious symbolism, these are goth. It's not just dark colors and bats, it's trying to replicate a victorian era mistress look. Goth has split into several genres now, and some of it is quite literally just mislabeled techwear. What was originally the universal goth look is now labeled "victorian goth", so those not ready to commit to being Goth can still call themselves goth without adhering to what a goth actually is, when if you know anything about those eras you would know Victorian and Goth would never mix. Most goths wear petrine crosses, pentagrams, crosses in general and the such, paired with heels and corset dresses with big skirts. They don't typically concern themselves with the religious culture but crosses and pentagrams are a big part of their fashion.

Techwear looks can often be considered or mistaken as goth, because Techwear has been stereotyped as dark clothes that cover all your skin, an abundance of pockets, belts, clips, chains, hats with hooks in them, gas masks, and masks in general, when in reality a lot of Techwear looks are mislabeled as Goth. Techwear is dark clothing with multiple pockets, some chains, maybe a hat, and one or more belts, and can include crop tops, black lipstick, dark eyeshadow, big boots/platforms, and usually a t-shirt from a metal band or with some kind of hardly legible writing on it. Techwear isn't all black either, it can have color granted it's darker.

To those of you who wish to get into the goth or Techwear fashion, if you really want to be goth or tech, don't just base it off what others are saying. A lot of information out there is bogus. Real gothic looks have started being called "Victorian Gothic", and real techwear looks are commonly mistaken as Goth. Look for the differences, know the fashions, and don't mislabel yourself.

But alas you can dress however and and call yourself whatever you want, most people won't know the difference anyways.

If you need some more help I have left some picture references properly labeled below.

#goth #goth fashion #techwear #techwear fashion #true goth #men seriously have no fucking clue what it means to be goth and I'm absolutely baffeled at how bad they are at trying #like seriously guys #thats not goth #you're just dressing in mislabeled techwear or like a biker #stop #how to tell goth appart from techwear #what goth is supposed to be #also why do people call it victorian gothic? #thats also wrong #like victorian and goth are two different things #come on #do your research #jfc

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

56. Anti-Hero

"You’re going to have to stop listening to me.”

“What makes you think I ever started?” Susie asks, opening the door and letting her in.

Alfie is passed out on the couch in the main room clutching a penguin stuffed animal, so Susie, dressed in her sleep shorts and t-shirt, leads Midge back to the office, closing the door. “How was Carnegie Hall?” Susie mutters a little bitterly.

“Eye-opening,” Midge answers after a moment. “Lenny was…incredible. He always is,” she adds. “But, um, he may have yelled at me afterward.”

Susie groans and plops into her desk chair. “Of course. He’s pissed off because you turned down Tony Bennett and made him look bad.”

“Half-right,” Midge replies as she sits in the chair across from Susie, still wearing the dress she’d hoped would be on the floor of a very blue hotel room right about now. “He’s pissed I didn’t take the gig because he thinks I’m hiding.”

“You are hiding. And sabotaging your career in the process,” Susie retorts, lighting a cigarette. “I told you, you’ve gotta pay your dues. You think Lenny Bruce didn’t have to play a ton of opening gigs to get where he is now?”

Midge nods. “You’re right. You’ve been right the whole time. So the new manifesto: I do whatever you tell me.”

Susie chokes on the smoke a little bit in surprise. “Whatever I tell you?”

“Within reason, obviously. I mean, I do have kids to consider, but…yes. As long as you’re not sending me to Siberia for six months, I’ll perform wherever you tell me to.”

Her manager looks at her a little skeptically. “And if I book you a gig and you get hauled off the stage because you talked about your period or something, you’re not gonna yell at me about it?”

Midge breathes deeply. “I might, but it’ll be more in your direction, than at you,” she promises. When Susie stays quiet for a moment, Midge sighs. “I’m sorry, Susie. It’s…it must be exhausting rooting for me. I make all the wrong decisions, and I keep forgetting to consider how my choices affect the people around me. Especially you.”

“Fuck, what did Bruce say to you?” Susie asks in amazement.

Midge swallows thickly, and it’s just a long enough pause for her manager’s eyes to widen. “Fuck!”

“Susie - ”

“You fucked Lenny Bruce, didn’t you?!”

“I - that’s not - ” Midge flounders for an explanation. “I did, but - ”

“It was bad enough when you just idolized him, but now I’ve gotta deal with you getting involved with the world’s most notorious comic!”

“Hey, you were the one who said he’s the best in the business,” Midge counters. “He’s been my friend - ”

“That guy’s got more problems than you, me, and your entire extended family combined, Miriam! And you went and fell in love with him?!”

Midge opens her mouth to deny it, but all that comes out is a mild choking sound. Shit, is she in love with Lenny?

“It…it’s not…like that,” she manages, a half-assed denial.

“Miriam,” Susie pleads exasperatedly.

If you blow this, Midge, I swear…you will break my fucking heart.

“Shit,” Midge breathes.

Susie rests her cigarette on the ashtray and rubs her face with her hands, looking well and truly put out by this new revelation. “Look,” she says as she drops her hands, reaching for the cigarette again. “You can’t keep letting Lenny Bruce dictate your choices. Especially if you end up dating him.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure I already blew my chance at that,” Midge mutters, slumping against the back of her chair before realizing her chosen corset (not the show corset, but still pretty likely to try killing her) doesn’t exactly allow for easy slouching. She groans a little as she straightens out. “And I’m not letting Lenny dictate my choices. I’m letting you dictate my choices, remember?”

Susie huffs a puff of smoke and nods. “Fine. But the second Lenny Bruce starts interfering in your career, I set your hat closet on fire.”

“Brutal,” Midge comments, but the way Susie smirks at her lets her know she’s forgiven. “I should go.”

“I’ll call Bennett’s people in the morning,” her manager says. “See if I can salvage this.”

Midge nods and stands. “Thanks, Susie,” she says. “And to show you how grateful I am, I will refrain from hugging you.”

“Thank god.”

—

She can hear him muttering to himself as he approaches the door. “Who the fuck - ”

“It’s me,” she says.

The door opens, and he’s standing there, still in his Carnegie Hall suit sans jacket, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hi,” he says a little breathlessly.

“I’m the problem. It’s me,” she says quickly as she stares up at him. “I used to think it was everyone around me - asshole bookers and police officers and my ex-husband - but it’s…it’s me.”

“Well, based on what I’ve heard, your ex is a huge fucking asshole,” he counters. “As are the police and a lot of the bookers, for that matter,” he adds with a wave of his hand before covering his smirk with his fingers.

She looks at him for a long moment before nodding past him. “Can I…?”

He nods and steps aside, letting her into the room. She steps inside just enough so he can close the door. When he turns to face her, she asks, “Do you know what an anti-hero is?”

“Kind of,” he replies, heading for the bar cart. “It’s kind of a problematic hero, right?”

“Right,” she confirms, following him a little further into the room and leaning on the chair closest to the bed. “It’s a hero who…is kind of fucked up.”

He’s smirking with amusement when he hands her a drink. Then he raises his glass and toasts, “To the anti-heroes, then,” before clinking his glass against hers and taking a sip.

She drinks, too, enjoying the gentle burn of Carnegie Hall’s provided bourbon. “I handed over the reins to Susie,” she explains. “I’m going to start doing what she tells me, pride be damned.”

Lenny nods slowly, still smirking. “Pride’s okay, Midge. You just went a little overboard,” he says, moving to sit on the couch. “I’m not mad at you, for the record,” he adds then.

“You seemed pretty mad,” she mutters into her drink.

“Well, you make me a little crazy - in both the best and worst ways.”

She looks at him, sitting on the couch very casually. He looks calm. His eyes not as red as they were on Carnegie Hall’s stage, his shoulders a bit more relaxed now that his hackles aren’t raised. “Can I ask you something?” She says, and he nods. “When you said I’d break your heart...”

He sighs, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “We’re going to get into this now?” He asks quietly.

“I just need to know...did you mean as my...mentor? Or as the man I spent the night with?”

“How fast are you going to run away if I say both?” He murmurs, turning to look up at her cautiously.

She feels her heart flutter a little at the hope in his eyes. “Very slowly,” she replies, daring to smile a little. “In fact, if you say both, I may never leave.”

Lenny chuckles softly with a shake of his head and sets his glass down on the table. He stands and moves to her, tilting his head to the side. “You know, the snowstorm’s outside,” he comments with a smirk, and she realizes she’s still wearing her coat.

She hands him her drink and takes off her coat, draping it over the chair next to them. “Better?” She asks with a soft smile.

“Didn’t get to fully appreciate it before,” he says, giving her back her drink.

“It was better before the storm wrecked my hair,” she counters, fussing a little with her windblown curls.

He shakes his head and takes the hand she’s futilely using to fix her curls. “You look beautiful,” he breathes.

She smiles and then melts into his kiss.

#midgelenny #midge x lenny #midgexlenny #tmmm fanfic #marvelous mrs. maisel fanfic #otp: more important than god #jackal fics #mltswift

[kazububs-archived]

𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲

includes: souya & nahoya kawata

cw: gn!reader, right person(s) wrong time cliche

wc: 2.7k

a/n: a late birthday present for the Kawata twins! This is immortal reader x time travelling Kawatas Listening to: Mausoleum - Rafferty

1753 - Spain

A green dress caught their eye without fault, the corset hugging your body so perfectly. It was as if you had the entirety of the dance hall entranced as your partner spun you around the floor. The roar of applause filled the room as the quartet settled. They fell still, as if their bodies had been turned to stone. Souya is the first to break the trance they had fallen under, a breathless laugh escaping him as you grab a glass of champagne.

Nahoya, with a white tux adorning his frame, stood as a stark contrast to Souya, who wore a black one of his own. A stolen glance from you was all it took, as the two made their way toward you, allowing your friend ample time to slip away as they approached. “Can I help you gentlemen?” You eye them, taking notice of the stark contrast between the two. The differentiation in their attire, hair color, down to their hairstyle. Souya’s hair tied up in a bun, with Nahoya allowing his hair free. “Why yes you can sweetheart,” Nahoya’s permanent smile only serves to widen, sharing a glance with Souya, whose eyes are darting around.

They both raise their hand towards you, a “may we have this dance?” spoken in unison to go along with the gesture. A small giggle slips past your lips as you glance towards the quartet, “I’ve never danced with two men at once, I must admit.” taking both of their hands in yours as they led you out to the ballroom floor. “Don’t worry darling, we’ll make it work. '' Souya says, as Nahoya stands off to the side, his hand sliding down to your waist as your own settles on his shoulder.

The music starts up as other couples join the floor, smiling, as you gaze into Souya eyes. ‘They are a very pretty shade of blue…’ you can’t help but notice as Souya leads as you two begin to dance. Eyes wandering to Nahoya, although you aren’t able to react fast enough when Souya is spinning you, causing you to step back, falling into Nahoya’s chest. “Careful sweetheart, don’t want you falling for me just yet.”

A blush dusting your face as you resume keeping in time with the music, “What makes you so sure I would fall for you or your friend?” His peachy hair flowing with his movements as Nahoya chides “Thought you were more observant than that love,” in a flash peach is swapped with a sky blue “We are brothers from a nearing kingdom.” As the music reaches its crescendo, Souya dips you down, faces so close together you could feel his breath on your lips.

Blushing, he avoids your gaze as you’re lifted back up and led back to where Nahoya was standing. “Well thank you for the dance gentlemen, it was truly an experience. I do hope to see you two again?” The twins share a glance before each grabbing a hand, leaning down to press a kiss to it. Peering up through their lashes they mumble out in unison “We can hope, my dear.”

Years upon years passed since your fateful encounter with the Kawatas. You knew in the back of your mind they wouldn’t keep their promise, trying to remind yourself ‘it's for the better, less they find out what I really am’. An immortal, who takes the form of someone in their early 20s, but has lived for thousands of years; that would scare any person away the second they found out your dirty little secret.

1822 - England

Working down in the factory takes most of your hours in the day, though the hours are long and you don’t have anyone to come home to; it makes life livable. Being immortal has its ups and downs but right now if you could only be back in Spain wearing that beautiful ball gown rather than an ash covered pair of overalls and t-shirt. ‘I’d take Spain please.’

After another long day at the factory, it wasn’t uncommon to go to the pub with some of your mates. “Aye y/n! Finally made it, thought ya weren’t gonna show” Laughing it off as you sat at the bar, ‘’Wow didn’t know ya thought so lowly of me, like some slag, eh?” A round of beer turned into two, three? It was getting hard to keep count, “Eh, ‘m going out for fresh air!” You holler over the noise of the men talking, releasing the stress and tension of work before getting back to their wives and family.

Leaning up against the cobblestone building, you glance at the stars. ‘The only thing that stays the same for me. The only thing I got left is you guys', you mumble out with a chuckle. Your attention is grabbed by two pairs of voices, one sounded rather drunk already, “I ain’t worried! I don’t know why you’re so worried ‘Hoya!” As the men come into view, your breath catches in your throat. ‘Peach and sky blue hair…I know them.’ Your mind started to think, staring at the two men leaning on each other for support. ‘No that ain’t possible, it has to be their descendants or something like that. I ain’t crazy.’ Wobbling to your feet, you reach a hand out to the wall to stablize yourself.

“Hey, ‘cuse me!” You holler out, grabbing their attention. They both look over and seem to freeze as they meet your eyes. ‘Why do I feel like I’m going to faint?’ Nahoya is the first to speak, letting out a confused “Eh?” It’s almost like you can see the gears turning in his head and before you can realize that maybe they aren’t those guys' descendants. “Wait, wait what the fuck.” Souya mumbles out, raising his hand to point to you, “Hoya what the fuck is this?!” Though Nahoya ignores his brother's calls, stepping forward to your frozen stature. “Spain, 1753, a green ball gown, right?” He breathes out almost in a whisper.

No no no no… this couldn’t be happening. This isn’t possible, it simply isn’t, right? It has been 69 years since you had been in Spain. These two should have been far more aged then they appear to be now. You grab your head, feeling as if it were spinning a million miles a second. “Hey! Hey what the fuck is this?!” Souya walks up to you, looking you up and down despite his drunken state; you can smell the liquor on his breath. Nahoya bursts out laughing as if this was the funniest thing in the world to him. “Barely recognized you with the short hair and total wardrobe change!” His laughter dies down as he grabs your hand, “We meet again, my love.”

This wasn’t happening, there is no logical explanation, you were the only immortal as far as you knew. Pulling your hand back you look at both of them, doubt and uncertainty swimming in your eyes which Nahoya doesn’t miss. “You, both of you, this shouldn’t be happening. Can you die?” Both brothers look at you as if you’ve just spoken another language, taken aback by your sudden question. Souya chuckles as if in disbelief “ ‘Course we can, what kinda question is that? Eh? Take us for some freaks?”

That was your push over. ‘Freak?’ Tears threatened to spill over your lash line as you turned your back running off into the night. Praying the day would come where they will leave your mind for good, and never return into your sight. “Begone and never return, please.” 

Sydney - 1994

How many deaths have you faked at this point? Has to be in the 100s by now. As much as you want to feel guilt, knowing that it's fruitless to make connections with those around you, knowing they're going to die and you’ll outlive them by the centuries; humans are social creatures even if they are immortal. New century new you, right? That’s what you keep in your head as you walk down the open hallways letting a warm breeze brush through your body. Opening the door, you take a deep breath stepping into the lecture hall.

All eyes on you, you can feel the piercing stares of hundreds, maybe thousands of students in the auditorium. “So happy to see so many people attending today, I am your professor, and will be teaching HIST 2114 this term. I do hope you’re all ready to dive into the past and uncover what historians in our education system may have shadowed.”

Everything was going well, the first class ended without a hitch. As students flood out of the hall, you take notice of a pointed gaze on you; well rather two gazes. Looking up to meet them, you’re met with…

Peach and sky blue hair.

It feels as if you’ve been punched in the stomach. Those same eyes staring back at you as they make their way to the front of the hall. Nahoya is the first to call out to you, “Hey prof! Could we talk to ya for a second?” Souya trailing behind him as if he’s unsure he is believing that you were real. Any words fall flat on your tongue as you only manage to give a small nod to the twins. “Meet us at the waterfront 9pm tonight, teach” Nahoya whispers as he passed by you, “Smiley! Angry! You guys coming or what?!” A voice yelled from the distance as Nahoya gave a sly smile following Souya out of the room.

It felt like time was moving too fast and too slow all at the same time. Pacing around as you wait for the clock to strike 9; granted you’ve already been here for half an hour.

Maybe it's not too late, I mean they can’t possibly know right? That’s insane. You’re the only one of your kind, aren’t you? It feels like the world is spinning around you, everything a blurry mess as you grip your chest. “I can’t do this, this isn’t real this, i can’t.” Mumbling incoherently as you try to get motion in your feet that seem to be connected to the ground beneath. It's not too late it's not too late it's not- it's too late. Souya and Nahoya come into view as you feel your heart pick up.

“Do you know how hard you are to track down?” Souya is the first to speak, staring down at you. Furrowing your eyebrows at them, “Track down? What are you guys trying to kill me or something? What the hell is going on.” Both brothers share a look before Souya sighs. “Well don’t you think you need to do some explaining too?” Glaring at the two, you could feel your defenses up ‘what if they really are here to kill me?’

Nahoya lets out a nervous chuckle as he steps between the two of you. “Look Souya, I think we should tell them what’s going on first.” Sighing he runs a hand through his hair, “Well if it wasn’t obvious enough, we’re time travelers. I’ll be honest I don’t think we expected to meet someone who is also a time traveler. You caught us off guard is all, darling.”

Opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water as words seemed to die in your throat. ‘I’m a time traveler?’ Rubbing your neck you look at the brothers before you, “I uhh, don’t know where you got that idea. I ain’t a time traveler. I’m actually, aha, I'm immortal.” It was the brothers turn to look at you in disbelief.

A quiet beeping caught your attention as Nahoya patted his pockets, assumedly looking for whatever was making the beeping noise. “Fuck not now.” Souya mumbles out as he looks at Nahoya. “Shit not now!” Nahoya looks at you with panicked eyes as you look frantically between them. “What? What’s going on?” A small box held in Nahoya’s hand as he turns it to you, a small digital clock counting down.

0:27

“Wait what's going on? I don’t understand!” The brothers start taking steps back pitiful eyes staring back at you. “Please don’t come any closer, we don't want you to get hurt.” Nahoya mumbles out as he glances down at the device.

0:19

“We’re sorry, let's meet again?” Souya calls out as the brothers link their hands together. Your heart feels like it's going into overtime as your brain matches the speed, ‘meet again?’

0:08

Tears prick your eyes threatening to spill, “Hiroshima! I’ll be there in the new century! Please let's meet again!” You yell at, fighting against your feet to run towards them, to get answers, to stay with them. A smile flashing from both of them before a flashbang of light makes you turn away.

0:00

Dropping to your knees, air finally filling your lunges. You can feel the cold grass brushing up against your legs as you look at where the twins did stand. Hiroshima huh? Breathing out a chuckle, you stagger back onto your feet. “Guess I gotta figure out how to get to Japan.”

2008 - Hiroshima

“I guess it is starting to get colder” Wrapping your arms across your chest trying to save any body heat left that’s escaping through your sweatshirt as the cool breeze blows through you. Dry leaves skim across the pavement as the sun enlarges your shadow in front of you.

Walking down the pathway, the trees dance under the wind as you look up to admire the pretty colors. You notice a stairway. “Has that always been there?” Mumbling to yourself as you turn to face them. Old cobblestone stairs wrapped in weeds and dainty flowers. Shrugging you start your descent up them, curious to see what’s at the top.

As you get closer you can hear voices, maybe this is a shrine? Though getting closer, it's starting to sound like a lot of voices. Biting your lip, you near the top of the stairs you peek at the crowd that’s gathered. “Oh fuck, a gang and it looks like a fight is about to break out.” You were about to turn your back to get out of that scene before you regretted it; until. “So who wants to die first!” That voice. That’s his voice. 'Fuck. Run to him, run to them. You can't, it isn't safe.' a mental battle in your head leads you walking down the steps.

If it's fate, then maybe it's time to let fate take control.

Minutes tick by as you hear the voices coming closer and closer to the bottom of the staircase. Standing off to the side, you kept your head down peeking through your lashes to see if you could spot them; peach and sky blue. After what seemed like everyone was leaving, you heaved out a sigh. 'Maybe we aren't meant to meet just yet.'. Pushing yourself off the ledge from the staircase you start heading back home.

"Souya c'mon! Let's grab some snacks before we head back!" The voice calls out, followed by a sigh "I guess we could get somethin' " a calmer voice following the energetic one, making you turn around so fast you could have sworn you almost got whiplash.

Peach and sky blue hair.

Your hand slaps over your mouth sniffling, as tears blur your vision.

"Smiley! Angry!" You shout out, unable to move from your spot as you watch them turn around to follow your voice. Their eyes widen as they see you. Nahoya is the first to make a move, sprinting towards you with his smile seemingly bigger; if that's even possible. Souya followed close behind with tears lining his eyes. “Y/n!”

Two pairs of arms wrap around you as they press themselves against you. Sniffling is all that could be heard between the three of you. “I felt like I was never gonna see you guys again, I’ve been waiting for so long.” You mumble through labored breaths trying to calm down.

“We can stay.” Souya speaks out, glossy eyes matching yours, Nahoya chuckling at his eagerness to tell you. “We found a way to stay here with no time limit.” Pulling back to meet both of their eyes, dumbfounded by what was just said. “You’re kidding? Please tell me you aren’t.”

Tears sliding down your face as they each grab your hands. Leaning down to kiss on the top of your hand, just like the first time you met on the ballroom floor.

“May we have this dance, my dear?”

taglist: @cat-suno @portfolio-of-dreams @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @roppongistripclub

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#alter writes #tokyo revengers #nahoya kawata #souya kawata #kawata twins #tokyo revengers x reader #au #immortal au #time travel au #tok rev fluff #tok rev angst #tok rev #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers hcs #nahoya x reader #nahoya x you #nahoya hcs #nahoya headcanons #souya x reader #tokyo revengers souya #souya x y/n #souya x you #angry x reader

[scripture-digital]

Green, mean, seemingly radioactive - what a wonderful fit!

Hoo boy, okay, I admit - I go awooga hummina hummina bazoingo (etc...) when I see anything REMOTELY resembling this. Not sure why, I suppose I hold the most respect for all-out, especially when pure (this isn’t the purest I’ve seen, but damn is it beautiful).

The way similar textures interact, how they still find their own places on the limbs, the shreeded tights and the varying hues, the CYBERLOX - how wonderful. I wish I knew where she got her gas mask from, and how she did her eyeliner so nicely (I need to get on posting more makeup-spo, for my sake....), HOW she shredded her tights so nicely. It looks like black spiderweb, or like that one image I have in my computer... (posted below)

^ this thing. I don’t know what made this, but it’s really cool ain’t it?

Anyways, dream tights. I think I’ve seen her cyberlox up for sale in the cyberloxshop before (I dream of buying a pair of their cyberfalls myself, although I do have to resort to diy for multiple reasons - respect though), perhaps part of their predators? I don’t know, I haven’t actually been on the cyberloxshop in a long, long time. If these are handmade by either the model herself or someone that does not specialise in cybergothic creations full-time, respect. Her falls look absolutely FANTASTIC.

This may not be the wildest cybergoth co-ord, but if you hit the rave with this be sure that all eyes will be on you. Which reminds me, I should really work on my dancing... Haven’t in a while (she inspires me).

Sadly I don’t know who she is, or if she has more stuff like this, tineye isn’t giving much, and I got this off Pinterest of all places (half-explains the oatmeal quality all of my images have... AI upscalers have truly failed me).

I wonder how wild she had to go with her scissors to create those wonderful sleeve holes (? sounds odd LOL) - they just add so much life to an otherwise plain piece (note to self: destroy your whole wardrobe it is very benefishial). I can’t see her torso clearly, nor her skirt (I think she’s wearing a skirt), so I can’t comment on those, except...

WHERE’S HER CORSET!!!!

Okay fine cybergoth doesn’t require 24/7 corsertry practice, but it’d just bring this outfit together SO much more, especially if the lacing hoops were arranged nicely, or if the ribbon used for the lacing itself was funky - thinking acid green with splashes of black (perhaps splatter some bleach on it then go wild with the black fabric paint wherever that landed).

Either way, this is amazing. Truly incredible, even. I’d pay decently to have something like this (complete fit, etc) in my own wardrobe RIGHT NOW, but alas.

Her belt’s a bit plain as is her torso - again, el corseto bias etc... But also why not wear a graphic t-shirt instead? Wild shirts are pretty fucking cool, I’ve got like 2 of them myself and they glow NEON GREEN in the dark!! It’s really sick lol, I loves those things to bits also.

And last but not least, can I just say how much I love that neon green splatter effect filter? Very chic, probably a photoshop thing and it’s cool as hell. I love janky filters no matter what (unless they are vaporwave - I do like vaporwave but not people that like vaporwave also...).

8.5/10, would’ve been a 9 if corset present (I have a bias as a pro-corsetter, I love those things to death).

It’s as shrimple as that.

#cybergoth #cyberfashion #cyber #goth #fashion #dark #alt #alternative #altfashion #lookbook #cyberlox #cyberfalls

[the-tigr0u]

【𝐾𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑜 𝑆𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟】

♔〘IƊƐƝƬIƬƳ   RҼƇƠRƊ〙♔

F U L L  N A M E

-Klaro Adam Sliver-

N I C K N A M E S

-Ghost-  

-Phantom-

N A T I O N A L I T Y

-Canadian-

G E N D E R

-Man-

S P E C I E S

-Human-

-Has an avatar, based on Snow Na’vis-

A G E

-34 y.o.-

B I R T H D A Y

-29 of April-  

A S T R O L O G I C A L  S I G N

-♈︎ Aries ♈︎-  

F A M I L Y

-Adam Sliver (Father)-

-Brooke Sliver (Mother)-

-Klara Sliver (Twin sister)-

R E L A T I O N S H I P  S T A T U T

-Single-

-Easy to access as a sex-friend-

-Needs more time for a serious relationship-

P R O F E S S I O N A L  S T A T U T-

-Got out of prison after 8 years of imprisonment, between the ages of 20 and 28-

-Having difficulty finding work, he joined the army for the colony program on Pandora-

-At the end, he decided to help the native tribes after he discovered the practices of the army-

-Today he’s part of a group of anti-military resistance fighters who are trying to help the tribes of the Snow Na'vis-

-He recently became the boss of this anti-military group-

"-  I c e  k e e p  p o u r i n '  a n d  t h e  d r i n k  k e e p  f l o w i n '  -

-  T r y  t o  b r u s h  i t  o f f  b u t  i t  k e e p  o n  g o i n '  -

-  C o v e r e d  i n  s c a r s  a n d  I  c a n ' t  h e l p  s h o w i n '  -

-  W h i p p i n '  i n  t h e  f o r e i g n  a n d  t h e  t e a r s  k e e p  b l o w i n '  -

♔〘ƤӇƳƧƖƢƲЄ〙♔

H A I R

-Black-

-Shaved on the sides-

-Tied in a ponytail-

-His avatar has braided hair, but with the same haircut-

E Y E S

-Brown-

-Deep and piercing gaze-

-His avatar has very light and very pale blue eyes-

S K I N

-Pale and matte-

-His avatar has white skin with very light blue stripes-

H E I G H T

-1m88 (6,1 ft.)-  

-His avatar is around 3m (9.8 ft.)-

W E I G H T

-88 kg (194 lbs.)-  

-His avatar weighs about 172kg (379 lbs.)-

C O R P U L E N C E

-Muscular-

-Tall-

-Well built-

S C A R S / M A R K S

-Hands covered with scars-

-Scar on the left calf, because of a dog bite-  

T A T O O S

-Wings in the back-  

-Wing under his right ear-

-Cross under his left ear-

-Arrow on the edge of his right hand-

P I E R C I N G S

-Labret-

-2 Industrial on the left-

-Lobe from both sides-

-4 Helix on the left-

-3 Helix on the right-

-Conch on the right-

-Snug on the right-

-Arcade on the left-

C L O T H I N G  S T Y L E

-Classical and relaxed, shirts, pants and jeans-

-Costumes with a tie for great occasions, usually with the jacket on his shoulder-

-Likes to wear atypical clothes, such as corset-jackets, croc-tops, etc-

"-  I ' m  a  g h o s t  -

-  N o w  y o u  s e e  m e ,  n o w  y o u  d o n ' t  -"

♔〘ƤՏƳƇӇƠlƠƓƳ〙♔

S E X U A L I T Y

-Pansexual-

P E R S O N A L I T Y

-Refuse to get dominated-

-Franc, he doesn’t hesitated to say things as they truly are-

-Can easily become vulgar-

-Clear and direct-

-Provocative and playful-

-Clever, even though he mostly uses his muscles, he’s far from being an idiot-

-Can be serious and compassionate-

-Once you get to know, and if he likes you back, he’s a very nice guy-

-Can become violent, usually punch before talking-

-Can be a real b-word if he doesn’t like-

-Caring and attentive-

-Seductive, but always respectfully-

F E A R S

-Agoraphobia (Fear of not being able to move anymore)-

-Cynophobia (Fear of the dogs)-

-Claustrophobia (Fear of tiny spaces)-

P A S S I O N S

-To sing and music-

-To play guitar-

-To travel-

-To cook-

L I K E S

- Music - Cat - Forests and mountains - Sex - Enjoy his life - To sing- To fight - Action and adventure movies - See/Find legendart artifacts -

D I S L I K E

- Strenght inequality - Lack of respect - To be held when he wants to figt - Not doing anything when something needs to be done - Cowards using people around them to survive - Cinnamon - Dogs -  

C I G A R E T T E

-Yes-

D R U G S

-No-

A L C O H O L

-Yes-

"-  T h e y  s a i d  I  w o u l d n ' t  m a k e  i t  o u t  a l i v e  -

-  T h e y  t o l d  m e  I  w o u l d  n e v e r  s e e  t h e  r i s e  -

-  T h a t ' s  w h y  I  g o t t a  k i l l  ' e m  e v e r y  t i m e  -"

♔〘ƠƬӇҼRՏ〙♔

E X T R A S

-He’s still learning Na'vi, his level is pretty good-

-He rides a white Thanator, calle Onyx-

-His avatar is based on the Snow Na'vis-

-The skin of his avatar is naturally thicker and more resistant, because the Snow Na'vi have thicker skin to counter the cold-

-Snow Na'vis have naturally stronger legs and feet, but also less sensitive, which allows them to cover long distances quickly, even in the snow-

-Klaro has jewelry that forms claws, widely used by the Snow Na'vis to climb ice and slippery surfaces-

-His tail is shorter, like the other Snow Na'vis-

-He is a fan of YUNGBLUD and Machine Gun Kelly-

-His voice : Jonathan Young-

-His avatar : Mitchell Wick-

P O S S I B L E  S C E N A R I O S

-Klaro can end up in the forest areas or ocean areas of the first two films, depending of the context-

-Can welcome newcomers to their anti-military group-

-It is possible that Ciara is part of the RP, the two arrived together on Pandora and are very close-

O T H E R  P O S S I B L E  R E L A T I O N S H I P S

-Jake Sully-

-Brotherhood, often conflictual-

-Neytiri-

-Close friend, brotherhood, partners in fight-

-Neteyam-

-Good friends, protection-

-Lo'ak-

-Brotherhood, protection, confidant-

-Kiri & Tuk'tirey-

-Protection, playmates-

-Miles Rick Quaritch-

-Enemies, confrontational, intimidation-

P L A Y L I S T

F U L L  P L A Y L I S T  H E R E

#Klaro #Klaro Sliver #OC #RP #RolePlay #Avatar #Avatar 2 #Avatar 2 The Way of Water #Avatar The Way Of Water

[endlessly-cursed]

The Newlywed’s Touch (Blyle)

A/N: This was written in a frenzy yesterday night at 5 am after many Blyle Thoughts. Lyle Astor belongs to the amazing @cursebreakerfarrier​ . While this isn’t explicit at all (I’m never explicit on these themes) it’ll be rated T for the kissing and newlyweds stuff 

Summary: Lyle and Blanche enjoy their wedding night 

Word Count: 1.7k 

Blanche Dubois never once thought that she’d be married to someone she liked, much less to someone she truly loved. As her house elf discarded the last of her complex wedding gown, she asked him if he’d dispose of her corset and chemise too. The elf seemed embarrassed “Argus won’t do that! Corset and chemise are for the husband! Argus is leaving!”

At first, she was confused until she understood what he meant, her cheeks growing warm. She nearly forgot that the house she was in was no longer Dubois Manor, but the house her beloved Lyle had purchased for them both. And most likely this was the reason her mother had insisted on putting eau de cologne on her collarbones, her neck and between her bosoms and had taken a rigorous bath where at least six hair products and two body creams and an extensive skincare had been put on her. It was all to encourage him to spend as much time as possible on her arms, tangled with each other. She kicked herself for not knowing it and thinking that this was special treatment. Though she did feel spoiled indeed.

Her ruminations were so loud in her head, she only took notice of her husband only when he had wrapped her in her arms, hugging her from the behind and kissing her cheek “Mrs. Astor. I take the celebration was to your liking? Please tell me that Rob and my sisters behaved accordingly.”

She turned around and smiled at him “They were merciful on me, yes, but I don’t think that’s going to last for long.” Both chuckled “But yes, the celebration was very much to my liking… husband.” She savoured the word and each syllable on her tongue, a sudden joy on her heart. She was Lionel Alwyn Astor-Phillip’s wife.

He smiled at her and kissed her slowly, tasting the red claret that she had put on her lips, feeling a new kind of feeling on his kiss “I’m thankful that my brother and you got to some kind of truce. Now, what shall I call you on these chambers, my dear?” He purred, begging her as close as his nightshirt and cravat allowed him, colliding with her corset and thin chemise, probably chosen on purpose so it’d be easier for him to take off. The thought of it made her blush. Lyle seemed to read her thoughts and took her face into his strong, warm hands “We needn’t do anything tonight. I’m happy to chat with you and plan our life. I won’t pressure you, my dear.”

“Oh, don’t mistake my feelings! I want this, I just… am at loss at what to do.” She bit her lip and looked away, feeling embarrassed “I’m afraid that my mother’s chat wasn’t very… enlightening.”

He smiled tenderly at her. It was rare the occasion where Blanche Dubois wasn’t her confident self, always knowing what she was doing and doing it well. He kissed her hands and wrists to ease her anxiety “Worry not, my dear. Just do what it feels natural to you. We needn’t get… there, if you wish…” It was now his turn to blush. He had thought of tonight, much to his own embarrassment “I want you with all I am, but I’m also at your complete mercy and waiting for your command. I wouldn’t have it another way.”

Blanche looked at him then and took a deep breath, placing her hands on his chest “Then I—I would like to see you.”

Despite his blush, he gladly obliged, taking off only his shirt for now. They had all night and the rest of their lives to get accustomed to each other in such state. Blanche took a deep breath, marvelling at what she had seen in many drawings and accidentally with her brother Phillip. He wasn’t the super muscular type, but she could tell he took well care of his body. She raised her hand and looked at him for clarification. He nodded and she ventured to place her hands on his bare chest, his body as warm as she had felt when kissing under the moonlight, hidden by the tall bushes of his house. She stopped at his heart and was glad that their hearts beat at the same pace—fast with excitement and anxiety. She then explored his broad and strong shoulders and corners of his back, relishing on such intimacy and closeness. She could feel his blood pump and breathe fast and his eyes on her “Well? Am I so far to your liking?”

“Very,” she replied, mesmerized by his male beauty. She buried her head on his chest and took a deep breath, smelling him as he did. He kissed her head and looked at her, a small blush on his cheeks.

“May I see you as well?” Blanche’s lips parted and blushed at such a daring offer, thinking it for a moment “Worry not, my dear. I won’t touch you if you don’t want you.”

“I-It’s not that, it’s just—I have never been this… exposed and alone with a man.”

He kissed her hands “I will follow your lead. Just tell me what to do.”

She tried to smirk “Well, riding me off this bloody corset would be a good start…”

Both chuckled and he nodded, turning her around and starting to make a work for it. He had never personally unlaced a corset, but seeing his sisters do it themselves to the other often did give him an idea of how it should be done. Many men struggled with this part and opted to just rip it off and hope that their wives didn’t scold them for that. He peppered kisses on her neck and shoulders, easing off her worries and making her slowly used to his kiss and touch. His friends, who had married before him –and some peers of his father, too—had advised him on the matter. While men didn’t normally talk about this as much as women, they did cover the topics when the subject came up. Blanche was clearly anxious and at loss of what to do, and he wanted to enjoy herself and try not to hurt her as it had been said. The idea of hurting his beloved him appalled him and had promised himself to go easy and gently with her despite his burning desire for her. This was her night, other ones would come, others where they’d both have more knowledge of how to keep each other content and sated.

When he had undid the corset, he had asked her if she was sure that she agreed on seeing her on such a state of undress, and she nodded, nervous, but eager. He slipped it off, falling on the floor and tracing a tickling line on her back. Horse-riding and training dragons had their own sign on her back, a strong and well-built one, her body lithe. He then noticed she had covered with her arms her most forbidden parts, a part of the body he had only seen in rather libertine drawings and sculptures he was allowed to see. He had asked again if she wanted this, and she nodded. She then turned around and caught a whiff of lavender and vanilla, and looked at her in the eyes, silently asking her if he was allowed to venture further. She nodded and took off her arms, blushing entirely. And Merlin, what a vision she was. Everything in her was perfect, and her porcelain skin shone on the candlelight. He inhaled deeply of pure adoration and desire “Blanche… you are the most breath-taking creature I have ever beheld.”

“Have you… ever seen a woman like… this?”

“I have but… not close… and not so… so mine.”

Blanche took one of her surviving hairpins and discarded it, her long, golden hair falling all the way that reached beyond her hips, and Lyle slowly approached, wishing to feel the feeling of her silky, blonde hair on his fingertips. His hands explored such a long hair and she whispered “I think I am ready to take the bed.”

He took her petite frame on his arms and kissed her sweetly as her hands accommodated on his shoulders, laying her on the king-sized bed, her hair sprawling all over the bed. He looked at her, hovering over her, their bodies nearly touching “Blanche, I beg you, if you wish me to stop, tell me at once.”

Blanche for one moment smirked “You should know that I have no issue commanding you, dear husband.”

He smirked back, their foreheads touching “I don’t mind being commanded. Not if it’s you who gives the command.”

She took his face and kissed him “Then I command you to take me as your wife.”

“As you wish, Mrs. Astor.”

He leaned to kiss her, the remaining of her clothes forgotten on the floor as both rejoiced on the other’s warm and loving touch, forgetting about the previous anxiety, only focusing on each other, their hands never off the other.

A few hours later, Blanche laid her head on his chest, his breath now slowing as he adjusted her petite frame on his tall and strong one, absently playing with her long, silky hair, the smell drawing him to her further. He closed his eyes, the smell of lavender and vanilla still fresh on his mind, her skin so smooth and the smell so enthralling he forgot about everything else.

“You were right, dear. You can perform your wifely duties well enough.” He joked, still remembering when some years ago, when trying to push him off after she announced that her father would marry her off with somebody else, she blurted that out, trying to convince him that she could be content with a man that didn’t love her.

She giggled and took the hint “I’m glad that I could please you well enough.”

He lifted her chin and mumbled “You were incredible. Beyond my wildest dreams, Blanche.”

Blanche smirked “So you dreamt of having your way with me?”

He blushed intensely as he smiled bashfully “Maybe…”

They both laughed and she kissed his cheek “I can’t believe this is real. That you are my husband, and most of all, I can’t believe how it feels so… right. Like this is where I belong.”

He kissed her sweetly “I think the same. Right now, I am the happiest man in the world. If this is a dream, Blanche, don’t you dare wake me up…”

She smiled lovingly at him “Same goes to you…”

Both smiled, drifting off to sleep, feeling utterly, completely, incandescently happy.

#hphl fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #oc: blanche dubois #blyle #lyle astor #blanche x lyle #hphl #harry potter: hogwarts legacy

[mercaritee]

Wisteria Lane The Eras Tour photos t-shirt

Wisteria Lane The Eras Tour photos t-shirt, hoodie, tank top, longsleeve

Another special point when watching Babymonster’s MV “Sheesh” is the Wisteria Lane The Eras Tour photos t-shirt it is in the first place but appearance of a Vietnamese domestic fashion brand. In the MV, Pharita wears a Lunar Eclipse dress and Pandora Corset shirt from La Lune fashion house. It is known that La Lune’s designs are all made from limited fabric sources, which results in each product being a “limited edition” version. Last year, actor Cillian Murphy shook the world cinema industry. The Irish actor first won an Oscar for his role as Oppenheimer in the film of the same name directed by Christopher Nolan. Cillian Murphy’s path to conquering artistic heights has left many inspirations for fans around the world.

During his youth, the Wisteria Lane The Eras Tour photos t-shirt it is in the first place but Irish actor had a great love for music. He once founded a Jazz band, named Sons of Mr.Green Genes. However, after a period of working, he chose to retire from his music career. Cillian Murphy’s life only truly entered a new chapter when he decided to put aside his studies at Law University to pursue an acting career. The fall of 1996 marked the first special milestone in the career of 20-year-old Cillian Murphy when the play “Disco Pigs” he starred in achieved resounding success, opening up opportunities for a tour. The show lasted for 18 months on many continents.

Buy this shirt:  Wisteria Lane The Eras Tour photos t-shirt

Home:  Mercaritee

#mercaritee #t-shirt

[fillyboy19]

A Corset Story

A Corset Story - FillyBoy - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

Midoriya ran his hands over the beautiful white corset vest before him. The luxurious emerald-green silk brocade felt like butter under his scarred and calloused finger. The smooth glide of his fingers across the fabric was broken by the thready feel of the beautiful gold and black embroidered patterns that reminded him of old, long dead aristocrats. The steel boning was rigid, giving it a shaped appearance, even while it was draped limply over the table. It truly was a work of art. Next to it was a matching vest in lilac silk with a matching gold and black pattern. This one, however, lacked the rigid boning, instead it had soft flexible rods and the inside was lined to be thicker so it would mimic the look of a corset without acting as one.

“It’s a beautiful design. It was made to your specific measurements, so it should fit perfectly.” The saleswoman’s perky voice cut through Midoriya’s thoughts.

“It’s perfect.” Midoriya looked at the tall blonde. A slight blush formed on his cheeks. “Would there be anyone that could help me put it on? I’ve never worn one before.”

“Of course. Would you prefer a man or woman to assist you?” The woman asked.

“Oh... Ummm. I don’t think it matters that much.” Midoriya said. “The tailor told me to bring the pants and shirt I’d be wearing with me.” Midoriya raised the small black bag he was holding. It also held his light coat. He wasn’t sure how he would look in this thing to be honest, so he was not expecting to be comfortable wearing it in public.

“Wonderful. Follow me.” The woman picked up the corset and led Midoriya to the private dressing room, where he had previously been measured. She laid the dark green corset on the plush top of the table in the room. “I’ll leave you to change into your pants and shirt. I’ll have a dresser knock on the door when they come, and you just tell them when you’re ready.”

She was out the door before Midoriya could say thank you, so he just set his bag down and stripped himself of his jeans and t-shirt. He folded them neatly and set them in his bag. He put on the black button up shirt he had brought and the slim fit black slacks. Every wall of the room was mirrored, and he couldn’t help but look at his own reflection. He smoothed down his unruly green curls as best he could. He looked nervous even to himself. He had been so sure that this was the birthday present he had wanted to give, but now that he had spent the money and been fitted, he was having second thoughts. “Nothing to do about it now. If he hates it, he hates it.” Midoriya mumbled. He turned in the mirror and admired his own ass. “At least my butt looks good.” A sharp knock on the door drew Midoriya’s attention from his reflection. “You can come in.”

A tall black-haired man stepped in. He was dressed in a white button up shirt, with a beautiful crimson corset vest over it. It cinched in his waist impossibly small, and while it looked beautiful, it had started to make Midoriya think that he was in way over his head. In his hands he held a simple black gift box with a lilac ribbon on it. “Hello, Midoriya. I’m Ryu. I’ll be your dresser today. This is your other item, all ready to go.” He set the gift box down and picked up the corset, turning it over in his hands. “I’ve been admiring this in our backroom for the last week. It’s exquisite.”

“Uh, I mean. Thank you. It was mostly designed by the tailor. I’m much more of jeans and t-shirt type.” Midoriya watched as the man made short work of the clasps on the front of the vest.

“You’ve never worn a corset before, correct?” Ryu watched Midoriya nod his head. “Do you know what type of look you’re going for?”

“No. Honestly. I know this is going to sound really stupid. But I have a friend who absolutely adores corsets. He’s wanted to wear one his whole life, but he has some health issues that prevent him doing that. And he talks all the time about them, so I thought that I’d wear one for him. I got him what the tailor called a faux corset, I’m really hoping that he likes it…” Midoriya felt himself start rambling and shut his mouth before he could elaborate further.

“I don’t think that sounds stupid at all. When you’re lacing corsetry, you can go for a very distinct, cinched look, like what I’m wearing. Now, of course being your first time, we’d never go this extreme. I’ve been training for quite some time now. But there is also a less cinched look, that will give a much more masculine feel.”  Ryu held out the vest for Midoriya.

Midoriya slipped his arms through. “The masculine one, I guess.” The man came in front of him and quickly clasped the vest closed. The vest felt loose, similar to way his regular suit vest had felt when he had worn the suit for Ochako’s wedding. He thought that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Ryu moved back around behind Midoriya. “First thing to know is that your corset does not lace top to bottom.” He pressed his hand to the middle of Midoriya’s back. “Your laces will meet in the middle. If you’re doing it yourself, it’s easier to do with a mirror.”  He continued on, giving Midoriya tips on how to lace the corset and how to tell if it was too loose or too snug as he worked the laces tighter.

Midoriya felt the corset cinch in snuggly as the man pulled on the laces at the back, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The boning kept his back straight, correcting his posture, and making him feel taller. His waist had always been thick, giving him a muscular but boxy look. The corset vest made his body look a bit slimmer, much like Bakugou’s form with his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Overall, he thought it was actually a nice look for him.

“How’s that feel?” Ryu asked.

“Feels fine. I actually thought it’d be harder to breathe.” Midoriya admitted.

“They can be if they’re cinched too tightly. It all depends on the look you’re going for. But I think you’ve got a very natural looking hip to waist ratio with the way I’ve done it. Not undone, but not too cinched either.” Ryu stepped back out of Midoriya’s personal space. “Now, some tips for your new corset. Dry clean only. Let it air out after wearing it. Always, fully loosen the laces on your corset before undoing the front busks.”

“The front what’s?” Midoriya asked.

“The clasps on the front of your corset are called busks. If you don’t loosen the laces before you undo the busks, you’ll warp them, and it won’t fit right. Take some time, walk around the dressing room, sit down, see how it feels. If anything feels uncomfortable, let me know. I’ll be by the register.” Ryu left, closing the door behind him.

Midoriya admired the look of himself in the mirror, thinking to himself that he might actually wear this out once or twice. He wondered what Bakugou would think about this look. He walked around the dressing room and it was stiff, nothing he would want to be fighting villains in. He sat down on the ottoman in the room and had to admit that it was slightly uncomfortable. The rigid structure of the boning kept his back super straight and if he tried to hunch forward, the bottom rubbed against his hipbone in a grating sort of way. He stood back up, took a selfie in the mirror, and texted it to both Ochako and Bakugou.

Midoriya grabbed his bag, tucking the gift box under the same arm and waved to Ryu and the saleswoman at the counter and left the store heading to Yuuga’s place. His phone pinged with fire emoji from Ochako, followed very quickly by a call from Bakugou. “Hey, Kacchan. What’d you think?”

“You’re gonna wear that home, right?” Bakugou’s voice came through the phone low and gravelly.

Midoriya felt himself grin at the obvious reaction his boyfriend was having to the outfit. “Only if you come out to Yuuga’s birthday dinner and be nice. And I mean, really nice.”

“You’re really gonna make me suffer through the damned disco ball’s birthday?” Bakugou asked.

“Oh, I think I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth. You should see my ass in this outfit.” Midoriya teased.

“I’ll go, but you better make it worth my while. And that extra better keep his hands on the damned corset and off your fucking ass.” Bakugou threatened.

“Aww, are you jealous Kacchan?” Midoriya heard Bakugou growl over the phone. “Don’t worry. You know it’s not like that. I’ll see you at seven. Kaminari has the address.” They said their goodbyes and Midoriya tucked his phone back into his pocket. He could feel people watching him as he walked, and he felt more confident with each block. Before knocking on the door, Midoriya dug his coat out of his bag and put it, zipping it up completely.

“Izuku!” Aoyama smiled warmly at his friend and welcomed him in. “I thought we were all meeting at the restaurant.”

Izuku stepped over the threshold. Aoyama’s place was bright, every shelf covered in some sparkly bauble, and Izuku was highly surprised that he hadn’t hung a disco ball in the center of his apartment. “Well, everyone else is. But I had a surprise for you. And I wanted to give it to you before dinner.”

“A gift? For Moi?” Aoyama eyed the black box in Midoriya’s arm excitedly and held his arms out.

“Ah–Not yet.” Midoriya set his bag down and set the box carefully on top of it. “There’s two parts to this gift. I remember you talking about this at length, and I always felt bad that there was something you really wanted to do but couldn’t and so…” Midoriya sucked in a deep breath to stop his rambling and unzipped his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. He watched Aoyama’s eyes grow wide. He moved forward; his eyes fixed on the corset vest.

Aoyama’s eyes trailed down to the beautifully embroidered silk corset. Midoriya’s broad shoulders now tapered down to a slightly more slender waist. The curve of his body was accentuated by the boning and the tight, tailored fit of the vest. Aoyama stretched a handout tentatively. “Can I? S’il vous plait?”

“Of course.” Midoriya replied.

Aoyama let his hands trail over the soft silk. They followed the curve of his muscular chest, and down around the sides of his waist. His fingers played over the lace detailing, following its trails across Midoriya’s flat stomach and around to his back.

Midoriya watched Aoyama’s eyes drink in every detail, like he was looking at some famous work of art. His hands grazed lightly, delicately over the fabric as if afraid pressing too hard would damage it. He felt Aoyama’s hands on his shoulders, as he circled behind Midoriya. They trailed down his shoulder blades and along his spine, feeling the laces, and running along the bottom hem of the corset.

“C’est magnifique.” Aoyama exclaimed breathlessly. “You look wonderful. Tell me, please. How does it feel?”

Midoriya worried that his clumsy words would ruin what looked like an almost religious experience as Aoyama stared, still at the material of the corset. “It feels tight. Not unbearably so, like a really strong hug. My back and shoulders feel straighter, like someone has a ruler against my back without the pressure there. It’s surprisingly easy to move in.”

“Like a hug, Mon Dieu!” Aoyama clapped his hands together. “It really is beautiful, Izuku. It suits you wonderfully.

Midoriya could see Aoyama’s eyes welling up a bit and he thought that maybe he had made things worse; showing Aoyama up close, something that he couldn’t have. “It’s only half of the gift, remember?” Midoriya reached down and grabbed the black box with its bow and handed it to Aoyama. He watched as Aoyama excitedly opened the box and stared, his mouth forming a silent ‘O’ at the beautiful silk fabric in the box. “It’s not a real corset. The boning is this really flexible plastic, and the lining inside is padded and thick, so you get the look of the corset. The laces are permanent, so they can’t be tightened; only opened and closed by the clasps... er, busks on the front.”

“The design is the same as yours.” Aoyama smiled at Midoriya.

Midoriya looked down at his feet. “Yeah… Sorry… I don’t know, I just thought…”

“I adore it, Midoriya. Stay here, I must put it on!” Aoyama took off towards another room, leaving Midoriya standing by the doorway.

“I guess that means he liked it.” Midoriya mumbled. When Aoyama came out, he was beaming. He didn’t walk, he strutted like he was on a catwalk in Paris. He had paired his lighter colored vest with white, slim fitted slacks and long-sleeved white button up shirt. He preened and strutted around like he was on a catwalk in Paris. When he finally stopped, it was only to excitedly wave at Midoriya to join him in front of the mirror for several selfies.

Aoyama kissed Midoriya chastely on the cheek. “Thank you, Izuku. This means so much. Now let’s get going before fashionably late no longer applies!”

A Corset Story - FillyBoy - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

#fanfic #bnha #mha

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844 

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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 

Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4” 

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!” 

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 

“That’s really good pat-” 

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 

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

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched. 

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 

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

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #anxceitmus #ts anxceitmus #familial anxceitmus #kid!patton #anxceit #ts anxceit #dukexiety #ts dukexiety #ts dukeceit #dukeceit #demus #ts demus #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #logince #ts logince #ts patton #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #ts roman #found family #parental moxiety #platonic creativitwins #requests

[sovtwords]

a king and his pawns

pairing: kita shinsuke x reader x miya atsumu warnings: 18+, royalty!au, threesome (M/M/F), bisexuality, anal, double penetration, hand jobs, blow jobs, doggystyle, kissing with cum, dom/sub undertones, fluff, established relationship w/c: 7.7k a/n: -AO3 LINK HERE- This is a little side-story thing I wrote for a royal!au I haven't actually gotten around to writing yet so WELP. It's fine tho, this was written for Kita's bday and he deserves it. LOVE YOU!! This fic features men engaging in sexual acts together so if that ain't your cup of tea then feel free to back out if you're uncomfortable! I'm bad at writing smut anyway, you'd probably be doing yourself a favour lmao. Regardless, enjoy!! Please lemme know what you think.

Kita Shinsuke was stressed. It’s not often the King loses his cool, but it seems as though life wishes to taunt him this week. Trade with Corvus has momentarily stopped due to an internal dispute meaning the Kingdom will be low on textiles for the unforeseeable future, a sudden drought has put the crops at risk, and Ginjima continues to test his patience with every new raid on the homesteads just outside of the kingdoms border - not within where Kita can arrest him, but close enough to be a thorn in his side.

He’s so very tired and so very alone, and everyone sees it as they convene for weekly meetings. They eye him with worry, yet he shrugs off every word of concern with the grace as befitting his title, though his Masters of War and Prosperity respectively eye him the most, the worry so potent on Lady Miya’s face he feels a warmth blooming in his chest. She even dares to lay a comforting hand on her king, and he allows only her to disregard her courtesies (not that she would ever forget them) and touch him. It’s nice to be treated well.

The meeting ends, and Kita is so close to retiring to his balcony to rest for a while until he notices that the happily married couple stay. “Ya alright there, Kita?” Atsumu asks, opting to drop all formalities and talk as friends like when they were younger. Kita’s glad for it.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and knows it wasn’t very convincing with the way they stare in disbelief. “Things are just tense right now. I’m sure we’re all feeling it,” he elaborates. Lady Miya takes his hand in hers once more, small fingers gripping tightly onto his. He keeps his eyes trained on them.

“That’s right, but you don’t have to burden this alone. It’s why you have your council. And you don’t have to hide anything from us. We’re here to listen to you, my King, so please – share your worries with us, so that you might feel better.”

Ah. His heart clenches with affection, and a soft smile grows on his face when he looks at the earnestness in your gaze, thumb idly stroking your fingers and momentarily forgetting that your husband is still in the room, sitting just to his left. But it’s so easy to forget that when his attention is focused on the right of the table, when Atsumu himself hasn’t said a word when normally he would screech if anyone dared get chummy with his wife, King or not.

“Thank you, my Lady. It warms my heart to know that you care so deeply,” he says carefully, pulling back with a quiet sigh. “But I’m fine, truly. I find that reading the books that you gifted to me helps me to relax.”

“I know another way ya might relax,” Atsumu interrupts before his wife gets sucked into a long conversation about stories.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s something more suited for behind the doors of your chambers, if ya catch my drift,” Atsumu smirks, while his Lady looks appalled. Kita feels the tips of his ears burn but keeps his expression as stony as ever.

“That’s crude, Atsumu. And you know that I’m averse to…” he trails off awkwardly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. Atsumu laughs.

“I know ya don’t take concubines. But that doesn’t stop ya from reading the spicier books in the library, does it?”

“What’s yer point, Atsumu?” He asks bluntly. Better to get whatever trick he has planned over and done with. The blonde smirks, eyes shifting between himself and his wife.

“Was just wonderin’ if ya wanted a private show, that’s all. My Lady here makes for quite the spectacle. Just a way for ya to destress.”

Lady Miya gasps loudly, a blush burning on her face as she stares at her husband in complete shock while Kita’s heart stalls in his chest.

Watch his friends while they… No. That’s a boundary he should not cross. No matter how many times his eyes have slipped downwards to where your chest is pushed upwards by the corsets of your newer dresses, or how smooth your neck looked when you lean over to discuss reports with him, he…no. Such intimacy should belong in their bedroom, not his. Right?

“Atsumu, that's not a funny joke. You should watch your mouth and apologise to your wife for embarrassing her“

“Hold on now, your highness, she didn’t say no.”

Kita blinks. Looking to where she sits, he sees the obvious humiliation on her face, clear as day as the heat on her cheeks. But with it, a look of conflict, a spark of curiosity in your eyes when they lock with his.

“I…If it pleases my King, then I don’t mind. I would do anything for my King,” she says resolutely, and the way your voice grows airy every time she speaks of his title sends sparks straight to his groin. He swallows harshly, opens and closes his mouth a few times as he feels the heat of Atsumu’s smirk boring down on him. It had definitely been a while since he’d done anything of that nature, but… was this really ok?

It’s silent for what seems like forever. Eventually Kita calls out to the servant standing outside the council room.

“Find the largest chaise you can find and have it delivered to my room. I want it there by tonight.”

God’s above, save him. He was really going through with this.

- - - - - - - -

Night has fallen, the castle is quiet.

He doesn’t know how he should act. It seems as though nobody except Atsumu knows how to act, if the way Lady Miya sits with her back straight as a pillar and arms folded politely in her lap was any indication. Atsumu lounges against the chaise in front of Kita’s bed with a drink in one hand and fingers twirling through the sash of your robe in the other , waiting for either Kita or his wife to make any sort of move, though it seems as though their nerves have gotten the best of them.

“Shy, Kita?” the blonde Lord asks. Kita gives an embarrassed furrow of his brows, but stays quiet. Atsumu chuckles. “Well then. Does my King agree to let me be the one in charge tonight?”

How treacherous of Atsumu to ask, but with no real idea on how to go about this, Kita relinquishes control with a mute nod of his head. Better to let Atsumu take the reins than for him to accidentally cross a boundary he was unsure of. Atsumu downs his wine in record time, and moves to place it on a nearby dresser before returning to his Lady. He takes hold of your face with such reverence and love that Kita has to look away and swallow down the bitter jealousy swirling like bile in his gut. He hears Atsumu whisper some reassurances to you, and nimble fingers undo the sash around your waist.

You stand up at Atsumu’s request, and he takes your spot on the chaise, posted in front of the King for his viewing pleasure. “Didn’t want ya to miss this,” Lord Miya says, and swiftly loosens your robes, letting them pool around your feet and laying bare your silky and soft flesh for Kita to see. Dark eyes rove over plump breasts, wide hips and thick thighs, and he’s convinced that no concubine in the world could ever compete with the beauty standing in front of him, made all the more sweeter that you’re a coveted treasure by your husband, making Kita the only other man to ever see you like this. It makes his cock twitch in his breeches, and makes Atsumu smile devilishly because he knows the effect this is having on his superior.

Your gasp alerts him to the fingers that have slipped between your legs from behind to cup your sex, brushing against the light hair that Kita wants nothing more than to bury his face in right now. “She’s as sweet as a peach, this one,” Atsumu coos, pressing all the right buttons and gifting Kita with moans and sighs that Angels would blush to hear. “As wet as one, too. Let’s show King Kita, shall we?”

Without prodding you sit in Atsumu’s lap and allow him to spread your legs wide, and the candlelight makes the slick gathering on your cunt and thighs glisten, Kita’s brain faltering at the sight. His body grows hot with want, with need , and he nearly rips his shirt off of his body, composure slipping with each second that passes. Atsumu offered to let him watch, but now he’s not sure if he’s content to be just a bystander.

You hum and squeal when Atsumu pushes two of his fingers past your folds, pushing in and out at a gentle pace that you’re no doubt familiar with as he prepares you for greater things to come. “Yer so quiet, Kita. Are ya not enjoying yourself?”

The Lady  looks at him then, a gentle pinch to her brows. “Are you…not satisfied with me, my King?”

Atsumu flashes an exaggerated pout over your shoulder. “Yeah, my King. After exposin’ my wife like this for ya, is she not enough?”

“She’s beautiful,” he chokes, clears his throat but it has little effect with how thick with lust his voice has grown. “She’s perfect.”

The smile on your pretty little face does funny things with his head.

“Ya hear that, my love?” Atsumu holds you close and rocks you side to side. “The King thinks yer beautiful. I dunno if many ladies can say that. Say thank you.”

“T-Thank you, my King. I’m honoured,” you grin. Kita gives you a small smile in return, though it falters at the edges when Atsumu catches you off guard and thrusts his fingers into you with great speed. It sounds wet and hot and Kita’s hand wraps around the bulge in his pants, stiff and begging to be touched, especially when the usually composed Lady Miya in front of him whimpers and pants like you’re in heat, moving your hips in sensual ways and locking eyes with Kita to steal the air from his lungs.

“A-Atsumu!” you gasp, wrapping a hand behind you to grasp the hair of your husband, but the smirk stays on his face, enjoying your plight. “Be gentle!”

“You love it,” he shushes you, planting kisses on your neck and biting down on your shoulder when you grow too rowdy. “Besides, we promised King Kita a good show, didn’t we? I have to prepare ya, don’t want ya cryin’ because yer tight hole wasn’t ready to be filled.”

You moan loudly when Atsumu brushes over your clitoris roughly, small hands moving to cover your mouth, and it’s the final push Kita needed to remove his trousers and take his cock in hand.

You watch in silence as he undresses, eyes immediately zoning in on the length and girth of his member, biting your lip for a different reason than when your husband removes his fingers from your core. Atsumu brings them up to the light to look at them curiously. They’re soaked from knuckle to fingertip, and when he pulls them apart tendrils of your slick keep them connected. Kita’s overcome with the desire to touch it, to touch you, see how you taste.

The smile Atsumu gives him sends chills through his body, as if his Master of War had read his mind.

“I think he wants a taste, my sweet,” Atsumu rubs soothing circles into your hip with his free hand, keeping his calculating eyes on his King. “What do you think?”

“The King can have whatever he wants,” is your answer, hiding a smile in your husband’s jawline while he laughs. Fuck, they were going to drive Kita insane. What surprises him even more, is instead of offering your pussy for Kita to lose himself in, Atsumu holds out his hand, like offering his fealty to the King once more as he had sworn so long ago.

“Then by all means, have a taste.”

There is a moment where it’s entirely too silent save for the heavy breathing Lady Miya is trying to get under control. A million thoughts run through Kita’s mind as his eyes flicker between Atsumu’s fingers, his childhood friends’ face, and the naked woman before him. It feels like entirely new territory, uncharted waters that Kita has only thought about dipping his toes into before running back out for fear of falling too deep into the water.

But in Atsumu’s eyes there's nothing but trust and desire, and in your eyes there's encouragement and adoration. His heart hammers in his chest, and burns with the overwhelming love and support from his closest. It makes his limbs move before his brain can catch up, leaning forward with his mouth opening while Atsumu’s grin grows wider, taking the digits in his mouth before hesitation can settle.

It’s strange, to suck on your best friend’s fingers, long and thick in his mouth, calloused from years of sword fighting as his tongue brushes against the pads of his fingertips. He can barely taste the saltiness of his skin though, as your sweet juices invade his senses like a summer wine, pure and sweet like the woman they came from. He grabs hold of Atsumu’s wrist when he makes to remove them, licking and scraping his teeth on them in a way that makes Atsumu’s breath hitch with widened eyes, and Kita mentally records it as a win before slowly releasing with a pop, lines of spit breaking the further away Kita gets as he takes his place on his bed once more, precum leaking from his slit.

It is Lady Miya who breaks Atsumu out of his trance with a gentle hand cupping his cheek and turning his attention back to the situation at hand. The smile on your face is light-hearted, if not mischievous, a gleam to your eye letting Kita know that you enjoyed what you just witnessed. “I think, dear husband, I’m ready to get fucked hard for the King.”

An impish grin blooms on Atsumu’s flushed face immediately at his wife’s forwardness. Honestly, Kita had never expected the Lady to be this way. You had always been on the reserved side, befitting your rank and lessons in etiquette. Quiet, polite, spoke when spoken to. If someone had told him a few years ago when Atsumu had introduced you to Kita when you were still giving the twins lessons in etiquette that he would be witnessing you in such a lewd position and answering all of the fantasies he had locked away, he would have almost laughed out loud at the absurd notion.

Funny how life works.

“Should we let his Royal Highness choose how I do it?” The blonde pushes his hair out of his eyes, and both Lord and Lady Miya look at him, eyes alight with interest.

“I…,” Kita clears his throat, brain bringing forth images of every position imaginable. He squeezes the base of his cock. Save it for the grand finale. “I want the Lady on her hands and knees facing me.”

That causes Atsumu to laugh in delight.

“Ah, takin’ her from behind, like mounting a bitch in heat,” he snorts. You pout at the language, but Atsumu kisses it away, lips pressing lightly against the bridge of your nose until you’re smiling again. “Never would’ve assumed ya liked it that way. Not very proper, is it?” Atsumu comments.

“Are you here to question your King on what he likes in bed, or are you going to deliver on your promise and show me somethin’ good?” Kita remarks.

Atsumu delivers another laugh as he lifts his wife off of his lap and places her onto the soft, cushioned chaise lounge as promised, knees spread apart and encouraging you to lean onto your elbows.

For a moment, as Atsumu undresses, he regrets not choosing a position that allows him to watch more closely as he enters in and out of you, but any complaints he has dies when Atsumu spits into his hand and rubs at his stiff member, lining it up with your entrance. Kita nearly cums all over his hand when he locks eyes with the woman across from him as Atsumu pushes in with a sigh of relief, no doubt seeking any sort of pleasure for his aching cock just like Kita. At least he has a pussy to bury himself in. King Kita just has his fist.

Your eyes flutter as Atsumu goes deeper into your tight cavern, groaning and furrowing your brows while you clutch onto the chair beneath you. You whimper when he bottoms out, and are only given a moment to adjust while Atsumu looks at Kita in question.

‘Shall I start?’, he seems to say.

Kita nods, and watches in perverse fascination as Atsumu rears his hips back and thrusts forward once more, making you choke on a scream as he sets a relentless pace, not holding anything back.

Your moans mix with yelps and screams of pleasure as your husband pounds into you from behind, round hands on soft hips and curls loosening from where they were pinned back on your head. Kita’s eyes stay glued to where your tits bounce with the force, hand finally giving him some relief and stroking his weeping cock, unwinding some of the tension in his shoulders and stoking the fire in his gut. He wants to reach out and fondle your chest, your nipples, but stays his hand, fear of crossing that damned boundary getting to him.

Atsumu is loud, he realises, almost as loud as his wife is right now. He groans and he growls like a wild animal, so overcome by the feeling of his Lady, of everything that she is, and praises fall from his lips like the water rushes down the mountain’s peaks.

“F-Fuck, yer so tight, I love it,” he grits, reaching over to grab hold of your chest like Kita wanted to do so badly. “So wet for me, for your King. Ya love getting fucked in front of him, practically beggin’ me for weeks.”

Kit almost feels as if he shouldn’t be hearing this conversation, but such crude words make him fist his cock faster, wet with precum and helping him ease the friction of hand to dick.

“A-Atsumu, I-”

“Don’t lie,” he laughs. He pinches your nippple roughly, and earns himself a gasp. “Every time ya called me yer sweet King, you were thinkin’ ‘bout him, too. Weren’t ya?”

You can say nothing, only look at your ruler with unbridled lust in your eyes. It’s getting harder to breathe now as he pumps his dick in time with his friend’s thrusts, entranced by the look on your face and Atsumu’s voice.

“Thought s-so,” Atsumu stutters when he rubs at your clit and you squeez hard. “Well, I’d do anythin’ for ya. Guess that includes fuckin’ ya silly in front of your King.”

Atsumu tsk’s and lifts your torso up so Kita can have the best seat in the house. Eyes stay glued to where they are connected, pistoning in and out of your walls and glistening with your slick. It brings forth images of wanting to get closer, let his tongue feel the both of them at once but it's so outlandish that it brings heat to his cheeks and pushes him closer to his release, chest heaving with exertion as everyone in the room reaches a crescendo like a symphony of sex.

That is until Atsumu stops abruptly, and it's so sudden and odd when the sounds of skin slapping cease that it causes everyone to lose their high, cooling down with irritation and impatience.

Atsumu's chest heaves air with great effort, yet his eyes are sharp as he regards his King.

"I think," he starts, easing out of his wife slowly, making you whine at the loss. "King Kita is lookin' a lil lonely. And it's our duty as his advisors and subjects to serve the King, right my love?"

You blink in surprise, when a smile curls at the corner of your lips, one that you definitely learned from your husband. Affection blooms on Atsumu's face at your reaction.

"We should give him a hand," the blonde declares, and suddenly he's carrying his wife over to the royal bed, laying you down gently against the rich, maroon satins and silks, hair splayed around you in rivulets like water. With equal parts curiosity and hesitation lacing his limbs, he moves further up the bed at Atsumu's insistence, coming face to face with you as you smiled kindly at him, lidded eyes and bottom lip plump from where you bite it.

He gives you one in return, one of the rare, genuine smiles he reserves for when he's with his closest and when he's happy. The sound of a throat clearing snaps his attention back to where Atsumu kneels at the end of the bed, cock bouncing against his lower stomach with every shift on the featherbed.

"Does my King allow us to do as we please with him?"

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he says yes, aching to feel the touch of something other than his own hand for once. Atsumu smirks.

“Wonderful.”

Moving closer, all three find themselves huddled in a circle of sorts, with two sets of eyes hungrily staring at him. Atsumu looks at his wife, and she stares right back. It becomes apparent to Kita then and there, that there is no imbalance between them. Though you may fold your hands when appropriate and open your mouth when addressed in broad daylight, though Atsumu’s words and hands guide you behind closed doors and you part your legs for him like a blossoming flower, they are, without a doubt, equals in every sense of the word. Atsumu gazes at you with such adoration it would give the poets something to sing about for centuries to come, and he is certain that if you were to give an order, Atsumu would bend and do it for you, no questions asked.

It’s funny - the Master of War and the Master of Prosperity; two things that could never work hand in hand, but ultimately make for a wonderful pair.

And it makes Kita’s heart yearn for even a drop, an ounce of what they share, for someone to look at him the way they do each other.

“Maybe I should give you some tips on how to go about it, my sweet,” Atsumu says, and it’s all the warning Kita gets before a large, rough hand wraps itself around his member. He jerks at the feeling, eyes wide at the blonde smirking before him, and he looks frantically at the Lady beside him who offers nothing more than a demure upturn of her lips.

“What are you doing?” demands Kita, but the words end in a choke when Atsumu’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock.

“I’m showin’ my wife how to please ya.”

“I-I think she w-would..” Kita has to stop talking to emit a whimper when Atsumu’s hand squeezes his dick. He swallows hard. “I think she would know how to please a man by now.”

“Hmm, yer right. She sure does know how to get me going, but…”

He removes his hand from Kita’s shaft for a brief moment to lift his wife’s leg, dragging a hand through your thighs and bringing it back to Kita’s erection, now slick with his wife’s juices and providing smoother friction.

“No harm in remindin’ her of the lessons. Watch carefully, love.”

It moves expertly up and down his length, knowing when to twist and squeeze, when to go fast and slow. Kita’s hips jerk up into Atsumu’s hand, unable to help the sighs and moans flying out from his chest. It feels good, so so so good, and a softer, more feminine pair of hands scrape gently over his chest, toying with his pert nipples and sending sparks straight down to his groin.

“He seems to like that,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the pulse in his neck. Kita is positive it must be ready to burst from his skin right now, yet still you suck and nip and paint his skin in the most delicate hues while your husband’s hand increases in speed. His other hand reaches down to fondle Kita’s balls, heavy and begging for release. Whines and whimpers grow louder as he approaches that sweet edge.

Atsumu hums. “He’s got a pretty cock, doesn’t he, my love? I bet you’re just drippin’ thinkin’ ‘bout it inside ya. Hungry for another man's dick.”

You shiver from your spot beside Kita, a hand scratching at his scalp and sending tingles down his spine, and a pink tongue poking out to lick at his nipples.

“P-Please…” Kita begs.

“Well, ’m hungry myself,” Atsumu continues, and swiftly dips down to take the head of Kita’s cock into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand never ceases its upwards and downwards motion. It's wet and hot, and the swirling of Atsumu's tongue around his tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered is enough to make Kita moan aloud in surprise and pleasure. His face glowing red as he desperately thrusts into Atsumu's mouth but his brain is too clouded with lust to feel embarrassed at this moment.

His fingers grip onto rich bed sheets as he loses himself in the heat of Atsumu’s mouth, that mischievous tongue of his being put to good use and stroking the vein on the underside of his prick before bobbing up and down in time with his hand. It’s almost overwhelming, feeling tongues on different parts of his body but it feels glorious, to have these mouths worship and love him like he craves but never says aloud.

It feels like Atsumu’s mouth is barely on him for a moment before Kita is grasping onto the nearest things he could latch onto, Atsumu’s head of hair and your hand conveniently already in his, and he holds onto both for dear life as he cums with a loud and long groan, releasing into his friends mouth with surprise and twitching with the aftershocks when Atsumu keeps him in his mouth for a tad too long.

“T-Too much, please,” he stutters, and Atsumu takes pity on him for the time being, laughing at how wild and unkempt his King looks right now.

“I guess you’ll have to test out yer skills next time. Come here,” hands reach for his Lady’s face, and he lets drops of Kita’s cum still in his mouth fall into your own open and awaiting jaws, sealing it with a kiss that’s all tongue and wildness. The perverse sight of them sharing his fluids makes his cock twitch to life again with alarming speed, but it’s also the words echoing in his ears that stick with him.

Next time. Implying that this won’t be a once off thing, a strange night to remember for years to come.

It makes him hard in seconds, even after spilling his seed in his friend's mouth.

If the couple beside him are surprised at his recovery time, only Lady Miya shows it with a raise of your eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

“Do you wish for more, my King?” you ask, traces of his load shining on the corners of your lips. He stops himself from reaching over to lick it off.

“Yes,” Kita sighs, and his chest seems to deflate with the motion, his words needy and wanting. “Please - keep going.”

“What do you want? Anything for you,” your hand cups his face with such gentleness he could cry. How sad it must be, for the simple touch of a person could be enough to shake him.

“I n-need you, I want you on top of me-” he has to stop himself with a sharp intake of breath. Eyes wide with fear look over to where Atsumu sits, a uncharacteristically stoic look on his face that makes Kita’s anxiety flare up. After a moment of silent contemplation, he opens his mouth.

“Does my King command it?”

It offers Kita a moment to rethink his words, to retrace his steps before they were taken. And as he looks at the faces of his friends for any signs of discomfort, looks at you for clear rejection, he sees no hesitation or resistance in either of their expressions. Only eagerness, anticipation for what could come. It strengthens his resolve.

“He does,” Kita says, with the air and grace of the King in power he is. And Atsumu grins like that cat who got the cream.

“Perfect,” he sings. “Lay back, yer Grace. Let us do everythin’ for ya.”

Doing as told, Kita finds himself a comfortable spot against the pillows and cushions, cock resting hard on his belly and watching as Atsumu coaxes his wife to straddle his hips. Hands fly instinctively to the squishy flesh of your hips and thighs, smooth like satin, and his grip on you only grows tighter once he feels just how wet you are, practically dripping onto his lower abdomen. It drives him mad with excitement, knowing he’s seconds away from shoving himself into your tight hole.

“Go on,” Atsumu encourages when you look back at him in question. “I’ll help ya when ya need me.”

Biting your lip, you peer down at Kita.

“I’m ready,” he assures you with a squeeze of your hips. You reach down to grab his member and he hisses when you pump him a few times, dragging it up and down your soaked folds. He worries his bottom lip at the sensation, and just when he gets used to it you line him up with your entrance and begin to sink down on him, ever so slowly.

He loses the ability to breathe when your warm heat engulfs him. His eyelids flutter, his toes curl, and they haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. Atsumu hums in approval when you finally sink down, hips flush with Kita’s, sighing in unison. You can’t help the grinding of your hips, trying to accommodate his size and girth, but it makes him growl and still your hips. “Give me a second,” he pleads. And you do, leaning down to give him his first kiss of the night. He can taste himself on your tongue, taste Atsumu along with him, and your tongues tentatively brush and move against each other as you grow accustomed to the feeling of your lips on the others.

He catches his breath when you pull away, blinking out of a stupor, and it seems as though Atsumu has had enough with waiting, for he clears his throat loudly. “Ready to get started?” They both nod. “Good.”

With that said, Atsumu holds on tightly to your hips, hands over Kita’s that stay locked on your flesh, and begins to slowly lift you off of his cock, only to push right back down. Kita groans at the fluttering of your gummy walls around him, head thrown against the pillows while Atsumu increases the speed and pace with which he picks his wife's body up, getting you into a mindblowing rhythm and bouncing you on Kita’s member.

Atsumu certainly dictates the speed and rhythm right now, and the coil in Kita’s gut begins to make a reappearance with every clench of your pussy around him. You’re both at the mercy of Atsumu, who alternates between stealing the air from Kita’s lungs with bringing your hips down hard and fast, or slowly and maddeningly gyrating your hips so that Kita presses against every spot inside of you, massaging that sweet, spongy flesh hidden deep inside that has you gasping out a strange mix of their names and clawing onto Kita’s chest for stability.

“That feel good?” Atsumu asks. He’s met with a chorus of moans and whines from his Lady and his King, but he isn’t satisfied with that. “I said, does that feel good?”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” You gasp, and are rewarded with kisses and nips to your neck by your husband. Dark eyes peer at Kita over your shoulder, demanding an answer from him as well.

“Yes,” the white haired man grunts. “F-Feels so fuck- fucking good.”

“My, my! Our King has a naughty mouth. My sweet, how does his cock feel?”

Your moans are light and breathless when Atsumu rocks your hips back and forth. Your juices stain Kita’s abdomen, and he’s tempted to reach out and swipe some up on his finger to lick. “He feels so big! So so so big, it’s too much, it’s- oh!”

Kita is almost as surprised as you are when Atsumu guides his King’s hand to your swollen folds, showing him how to rub at your clit with practiced motions. You careen in response, hips moving erratically and crying about how good it feels.

“Tell him, not me,” Atsumu laughs.

“Oh, my King, my sweet King, you feel amazing. I love your cock so much, stuffin’ me full, I can’t take it, I love it I love it I love it!”

Your praise, your words, the heat of your cunt; it all goes straight to his head and his heart, and the coil in his gut tightens dangerously, ready to burst his seed into you and fill you up, but Atsumu has your plans before he can reach his peak.

Atsumu lifts your hips up one final time, but doesn't bring them back down. The disappointment in the room is immeasurable, denied a high once more when they were just so close to falling off the edge. Lady Miya whines loudly and impatiently, having been denied her orgasm twice now.

"I know, baby, I know," Atsumu coos, pets your hair and soothes the furrow of your brows. "But I was gettin' a lil lonely over here. I wanna join in."

Your eyes light up in question, staring at him questioningly and obeying when he orders you to bend over. Chest to chest with Kita, the King cradles you closely, brushes loose strands of hair out of your eyes, and allows himself a simple peck to your lips, one that you return with two of your own.

But you jump in shock when Atsumu spreads your cheeks apart and spits loudly onto your rear.

"Atsumu! You...you mean to-"

"Shh. You trust me, don't ya?"

"Always," she answers without hesitation, and the smile he gives you is warm and full of love.

"Then just wait," he rubs a finger over your puckered hole, spreading the spit and watching in fascination how it responds to his touches. He loves your cunt like a drunk loves his wine, but your ass is just as addictive. Really, any part of you is more than enough for him.

You bite your lip when a finger dips in, struggling to accommodate the invasive digit. Kita distracts you with more kisses, hands on your breasts, pulling at your hardened nipples and drinking in your moans like he's breathing in the fresh air of the morning.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers in your ear, watching over your shoulder as Atsumu adds a second finger, pumps them in and out so carefully. The blonde reaches around to lightly toy with your clit - not enough to make you cum, but enough to make you relax and less restrictive. "He's lucky to have married ya."

"Shinsuke," she sighs into his own ears, and it sends shivers down his spine. It's very rare people can address him as Kita without his title, let alone his first name, but it sounds so beautiful coming from the lips of his friends.

"Yer doin' so well," Atsumu praises, free hand massaging the globe of your ass cheek once Kita’s clumsy fingers take over the role of rubbing your nub. "Stretchin' ya out real good. You want both of our cocks, don't ya?"

"I do, I want them so bad-"

"Think you can handle us?"

"Yes, please! God, Tsumu, I wanna be stuffed with both of your cocks-"

"Damn, you get loud when yer needy." Atsumu drags his erection through the folds of your pussy, gathering as much of your juices to coat his dick once again before he lines it up with your back entrance. "We'll take things nice and slow."

It seems as if Atsumu is reassuring more than just his wife with that statement, and Kita is grateful for it.

You bite down on the skin of his shoulder when Atsumu removes his fingers and presses the tip of his dick at your hole. You’re clenching hard and gasping at the stretch, and Kita works with Atsumu to soothe your cries and kiss away your tears.

He kisses your lips when you give a harsh wail as Atsumu presses in further, not even halfway in yet but groaning at how tight it feels. He spits once again where you're both connected while you twitch and sigh as Kita's fingers return to your swollen bud.

"Yer doing amazing, such a good girl," Kita peppers your cheeks with light kisses, and with one last thrust Atsumu is fully seated with his cock in your ass, glassy eyed and chest heaving with tension as he gives the pair of you a moment to adjust.

He bends over to lick and kiss a line up your spine. "Your turn Shinsuke." Kita stalls, wondering for a moment if you really are ready to take them both at once, but Atsumu mistakes his silence for hesitation. "Need help with that?"

Lord Miya reaches down to gently guide Kita towards your sopping hole, and he sucks in a breath as your hips lower agonisingly slow to sink down on him until both of their members are filling you to the brim.

You're a panting and whining mess atop of him, fighting to catch your breath whilst Kita fights to make sense of what he's feeling right now. He can nearly feel Atsumu press against him through a thin layer inside of your pussy, every budge of his hips making his chest tighten at the friction.

"Tell us when to move," your husband says. After a moment of getting used to the stretch with little twitches of your hips, you nod frantically.

"I'm OK, you can move."

"I'll let Kita do the honours," Atsumu smirks.

Lifting his legs higher up the bed for leverage, Kita gives an experimental thrust into your core. It feels so good when you clamp down with a whimper, and so he does it again, and again, until he's set a slow but steady rhythm and enjoys the look of pleasure on your face, the way you bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning too loud but failing miserably.

Gradually becoming more comfortable and succumbing to pleasure, Atsumu begins to move gently, pulling out slowly and pressing back in, so as not to disrupt Kita’s flow but your reaction is immediate, a sharp gasp and a whine for more, arching your back and trying to reach behind to your husband. He leans over to allow you to thread fingers through his hair, and begins to grind faster into you, trying to match Kita’s pace and intensity.

“S-Shit, yer so tight, yer... fuck-” he curses and stutters his hips. “God I love ya- I love ya so much.”

“Please, g-give me m-more!”

“My pretty little slut,” he coos, and you sob into Kita’s chest. “So- fuck, so fuckin’ greedy. You wanna get fucked hard?”

“Gods, yes! I want to be full of your cum, please please please-”

“S-Shit,” he swears, and Kita watches as the careful, calculated look Atsumu kept in his eyes all night suddenly turns wild, frenzied, just about ready to tear you apart like you desired. “You asked for it, pretty girl.” He gives Kita a look. “Ready?”

The King nods. “Ready.”

The blondes' lips curl up at the edges, and you’re only given a moment before both sets of cocks begin ramming into you with such great force that it has you falling on top of Kita, where he wraps his arms around your frame to keep you steady. Words turn into coherent babbles and cries as they piston in and out of you in near perfect unison, and it’s the friction Kita so desperately craved as your wet walls and Atsumu’s shaft rub him so deliciously that his orgasm rears it head once more, building so perfectly and steadily that he feels like he’s reaching Cloud Nine.

Kita unwinds one of his arms from around your waist to reach Atsumu’s ass to give the flesh an affectionate squeeze, causing him to meet Kita’s eyes over your head. Atsumu leans down to capture Kita’s lips in a sloppy kiss, one that’s more tongue and spit and passion than anything else, and the King barely has any second to catch air when he pulls away before your tongue prods at his lips, lips that he opens willingly like heavenly gates. And when Atsumu joins in again, and he feels two messy sets of tongues invade his mouth, one rough and demanding, the other soft and sweet, he can do nothing more than let out a whine and try to keep up with the wonderful sensations taking hold of his body.

He’s given some reprieve when Atsumu pulls back to sit up, grasping at your hips and fucking into you so fast you’re stupefied, mouth hanging open and drooling on Kita’s chest. He doesn’t mind - rather, he doesn’t really notice, too busy focusing on your bouncing tits in front of his eyes, on the occasional brush of Atsumu’s sack on his skin, and the rising coil in his gut, ready to snap at any moment.

Hips jump erratically off the bed when Atsumu rubs at your clit hard and fast, nearly crushing Kita’s cock from how tightly you squeeze the both of them as your husband brings you to your mind shattering end.

“I’m cumming! I’m- I-”

It’s all you’re able to say as your peak washes over you in waves of heat, and he feels your juices gush out on top of his skin as you do so. Fuck, he’s nearly there, so close, just a bit more-

“I’m c-close, I’m so close-” Kita stutters.

“Cum for me,” Atsumu growls, pounding into your ass with abandon while you fall onto Kita’s torso, arms wrapped around his neck and sobbing so pitifully in his ear. “Cum for us, Shinsuke.”

It’s the push he needed. He’s shooting his seed into your core with a strangled shout, pumping load after load right into you while Atsumu follows, unloading into your ass with a curse and a moan of your name, going balls deep and spilling all that he has while your walls milk them for all that they have.

Atsumu collapses on top of both of you with a tired sigh, and while Kita’s body protests at the added weight, his mouth can’t quite catch up with his brain at the moment, so he simply lays there as the heat of the room falls over all of you like a blanket.

Both cocks begin to soften inside of you. Ever so gently, they pull out, seed escaping your holes and dripping slowly onto the sheets as you whine at the loss and clench around nothing, feeling so terribly empty and almost wishing they had stayed inside of you. But it gives you an opportunity to rest, and Atsumu flips you on your side until he’s laying you down on the bed, littering kisses all over your body and singing praises about how well you did for them, how much of a good girl you are.

You smile sleepily, exhaustion overtaking your limbs, and Kita can only cup your face and rub his thumbs on your cheekbones, uncertain if kissing you would be crossing a line now that the deed has been done. You arch into his touch while Atsumu leaves to get a cloth.

“Was that ok for you, my King?”

Ah. Of course you would put him above yourself. He smiles warmly at that.

“That was wonderful. You were perfect,” he answers honestly, and you practically glow with pride at his words. When Atsumu returns, Kita takes the cloth, opting to be the one to clean the mess between your legs. It’s the least he could do after all that they’ve done for him.

It grows silent once he finishes, looking over to see Atsumu holding you close from behind. Your eyelids are drooping and your eyes grow hazy with every kiss and rub Atsumu gives to you, yet when Kita is about to excuse himself, to find solitude in a bath and let the married couple have his bedchambers for the night, you reach out to him, wanting to hold him, his face, to bring it close to you and trap him for the night.

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to…” he trails off with uncertainty. Atsumu snorts, offering him a kind and warm smile.

“The Lady always gets what she wants,” he jokes, and Kita lets out a fond laugh. “Besides - yer the King.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he replies. And he means it. But his heart begs for the opposite, for you to not let him go and let him rest his head on your heart.

It seems as though you hear his thoughts.

“I want you to stay,” you murmur, sleepy but resolute in your words. “Do you want to stay?”

His eyes flicker back and forth between husband and wife. He could leave. He could end things right here, pretend like tonight never happened and go on existing as King like he always has. Things would become too complicated if he stayed. He knows this. And yet…

“I do,” he whispers, and curls into the warmth of your chest while Atsumu rubs at his hair with a fondness not common in him. Kita feels, for once in his life, at home. No castle too big and warm can ever compare to this. “I do want to stay.”

“Well then,” Atsumu says warmly, while you finish his sentence.

“Stay.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #kita x reader #kita scenarios #kita imagines #kita smut #kita shinsuke #atsumu smut #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #kita x atsumu #hq smut #hq fluff

[gallifrey1sburning]

For those of you who just tuned in, everyone here is a crazy person.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Word Count: 1.5K Rating: G Warnings: self indulgent nonsense and too many Buffy references Many thanks to @mxmaneater for the beta!

“I can’t believe you arseholes made me come as Xander,” Ron grumbled, picking unhappily at his oversized, printed button-down where it hung open over an oddly fitting t-shirt. “Xander’s a tit.”

“He’s been cool a couple times,” Harry argued. “There was that whole thing with the bomb in the basement. That was pretty cool.”

“And he was pretty sexy as Army Guy,” Hermione added.

Ron wrinkled his nose. “Great, he was sexy when he was being someone else. Why couldn’t I at least have been Vamp Xander?”

“Because I called Vamp Willow before you thought of it, and that’s disgusting,” Ginny chimed in, smirking up at him. “Suck it up, buttercup.” Her tight corset pushed her otherwise-modest breasts upward rather impressively, and Harry spared a moment to think that she really had been wasted on him and his then-undiscovered homosexuality. From an objective, aesthetic standpoint, she looked hot as hell.

It was just after 10 PM, and Harry and his friends were making their way through the line into the Red Cap—the newest, supposedly hippest, bar in Wizarding London—for what had promised to be a truly epic Halloween party. They probably could have cut the line, if Harry were honest with himself, but he hated playing the celebrity card, and he was hoping not to draw attention to himself. Well, not for that, anyway. He couldn’t pretend that his black leather jacket and red silk shirt combination wasn’t a bit on the ostentatious side.

As if on cue, Luna reached up and slid one more button loose on his shirt before patting him on the chest. “There you go. Much more in character.” She wore a short skirt, a jacket, and a cross necklace, and a wooden stake stuck out of her pocket. Harry flushed, feeling a bit exposed, but didn’t rebutton it.

When Harry and his friends had gotten hooked on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it hadn’t taken more than a few episodes for the teasing to begin. “Tall, dark, handsome, broody, and with a savior complex? Come on mate, even you have to admit that you’re fulfilling an archetype, here,” Ron had told him when Harry had tried to get him to come to his defense.

Really, Ron had brought the Xander costume on himself.

Back in line, Hermione pulled her glasses off, rubbing them with a handkerchief before perching them back on her nose, giving Harry and Luna a faux-disapproving look. She was clad all in tweed, her Giles costume perfect right down to the omnipresent green mug of tea. “If we could return to the matter at hand?”

“What, Ron’s whinging?” Ginny grinned.

“It’s not whinging,” Ron whinged.

Harry tried to muffle a snort of laughter.

“You could always have been Kendra,” Luna pointed out.

“Nah, couldn’t have pulled off the shirt,” Ron answered, sounding truly disappointed.

From behind them, they could hear people muttering in annoyance as someone pushed past them with a sheepish, “Sorry, sorry! My friends are just… sorry—” Finally, Neville slid up beside them, hair spiked out in every direction, guitar slung over his back. “Sorry,” he gasped again, “got caught up at work. One of the Devil’s Snares was misbehaving.”

“So, literally caught up, then,” Ginny grinned, earning herself a round of rolled eyes.

Ron pointed at him, looking incensed. “I could have been Oz!”

“Again, your sister is dressed as Willow,” Hermione pointed out with a sigh.

“Oh. Right.”

Finally, they reached the front of the queue. The bouncer checked their wands, spelled a wristband onto each of them, and waved them in, looking bored all the while.

“Whew! Finally,” Ginny yelled as they stepped into the loud, crowded bar. “I need a drink.”

“Ooh, Harry, look!” Luna said, taking Harry’s arm and pointing at the board of specials. “They’ve got blood!”

Looking over, Harry saw that—sure enough—there was some sort of deep red cocktail being served in a realistic-looking blood bag. He laughed. “Guess I know what I’m drinking tonight.”

Before too long, the group had managed to secure themselves drinks—starting with a round of rather suspect-looking neon shots that Ginny had pushed into their hands with a wicked grin. Now, they were cheerfully working their way towards tipsy, chatting with each other and various others who dropped by to comment on their costumes or show off their own.

“I don’t get it,” an extremely intoxicated Ernie MacMillan had told them, squinting at them in confusion.

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer!” Harry attempted to explain to him, but his face went even more perplexed.

“It’s an American Muggle television programme,” Hermione tried, and he shook his head at them, clearly baffled and too far gone to do anything about it.

“Weird.”

They had just parted ways with a disturbingly realistic mummy that had turned out to be Dean Thomas wrapped in artfully-done papier-mâché when Ron’s eyes went wide. “Oh, come on.”

Following his gaze, Ginny’s face lit up in puckish delight. “No. Way.”

Turning to see what they were looking at, Harry’s eyes caught on a head of extremely familiar white-blond hair. White-blond hair that had been slicked back, not like it had been back in school, but in a way that managed to look edgy. White-blond hair that topped the head of a tall, thin man in a long leather duster, jeans, and beat up combat boots. “Oh no,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Absolutely not.”

It wasn’t as though Harry and Malfoy were still rivals or anything. It was just that the git drove him mad, what with his whole… everything. That was all. And Harry didn’t appreciate him stealing their costume idea. Especially if he was going to dress as—

As though he could hear him from across the room, Draco Malfoy’s head turned and his gaze met Harry’s, expression quickly going from its usual disdain to surprise to a smirk in record time as he took in Harry and then his friends. He nudged someone beside him, tipping his head in their direction, and Harry glanced down to see Pansy Parkinson, dark hair curled to her shoulders, in red leather pants that matched her lacquered lips and a sinfully tight black top, stake in hand. Behind her stood Blaise Zabini in a burgundy velvet suit and orange tie and Gregory Goyle in a long white nightdress and a wig. “Fucking. Hell,” Harry muttered.

From behind him, he heard Hermione sigh, “Oh, dear.”

Malfoy, of course, led his little gang directly over to Harry and his friends, hands in his pockets, somehow managing to saunter across the room despite the absolutely packed bar floor. “Well, well, well,” he said, voice and grin both dripping with pure sin, “What have we here?”

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” Harry grumbled.

“Mmm, I don’t think I will.” Draco raised an eyebrow, removing his hand from his pocket only to spin a cigarette between his long, pale fingers and Merlin, how had Harry not noticed the resemblance before?

“Play nice, boys,” Parkinson drawled before moving past them and directly up to Ginny. “Nice choice,” she purred, her eyes trailing over her body, lingering rather longer than could be considered strictly polite on her décolletage. “Didn’t fancy the sweet, innocent look, then?”

Ginny returned the look with interest. “Never been my style. Never been yours, either, I don’t think.”

Pansy shrugged her assent. “I’m more of a ‘want, take, have,’ sort of girl.”

Ginny grinned lasciviously and held out her hand. “Dance?”

“For now.” Pansy winked and the two disappeared onto the dance floor without a backwards glance.

Hermione, meanwhile, was eyeing Blaise skeptically. “Did they really make you dress up as Mr. Trick just because he’s the only black male character?” she asked, tone tinged with disgust.

Blaise snorted. “As if they could make me do anything. They wanted me to be him.” He gave a sideways nod at Harry, who was still glaring at Malfoy with his arms crossed, “but I didn’t fancy that hair. Besides, I look amazing in this suit.”

Hermione’s expression relaxed. She eyed him up and down before tilting her head in concession. “Fair point.”

Draco had stepped even further into Harry’s space now, smirking. “Leather’s a new look for you,” he commented. “Trying to be a bad boy, then?”

“Fuck off,” Harry repeated grumpily.

“Ooh, does this mean you’re celibate for life now? Bad luck, Potter. Not that you were getting any anyway, I’m sure.”

“I said. Fuck. Off.”

“Make me.”

Harry pulled Draco in by the lapels of his jacket, glowering. Draco laughed victoriously. From where he was standing with Luna, observing the scene, Neville shook his head disbelievingly.

“How long until they start snogging, do you think?”

Luna considered, tilting her head to one side. “Not long now, I would imagine.”

Forgotten in the chaos, Ron wandered up to Goyle. “Drusilla, huh? Bad luck.”

Goyle grunted his agreement. “You?”

“Xander.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

They clinked their glasses together. A few feet away, a somewhat disheveled Spike and Angel made out furiously, oblivious to the crowd around them.

AO3

#drarry #drarry fic #my writing #drarry halloween #harry potter #draco malfoy #too many Buffy costumes #not enough plot #enjoy