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#Staircase Shells
rattyexplores · 5 months
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Gastropoda: Architectonica perdix
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Gastropoda: Bembicium nanum
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Gastropoda: Diodora singaporensis
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Bivalvia: Spondylus sp.
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Gastropoda: Triphoridae sp.
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Bivalvia: Pteria sp.
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Bivalvia: Lamarcka avellana
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Gastropoda: Turritella terebra
Various shells collected in the Yeppoon area.
16/05/23 - Yeppoon shores
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Villa A, Yokosuka City, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan,
STAR® led by Eitaro Satake
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The only thing worth knowing about me is that I have three separate books on types of rocks and how to identify them in the wild and my house is filled with rocks ranging from tiny pebble to multi kilogram monstrosity I somehow got inside
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stageplayhero · 1 year
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tag overhaul!
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mindstack · 2 years
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let us cuddle up
forgetting the chill of our loneliness
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beansprean · 3 months
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Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!
oh my god they're engaged to be engaged...
(also this is entirely separate from the izzyguana series fyi, but my god I have drawn their little island so many times by now)
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Wide shot of Stede and Ed's ramshackle house on a hill of long grass, a forested mountain sliding into the sea behind them as the sun peeks above the waves, painting them orange and yellow. Some work has been put into the house since they found it: the holes in the roof have been boarded over or covered with tarp, a rickety porch railing and staircase off the left side have been built on from scraps, oil lamps have been hung on each corner, and an addition on the right side is in progress, rocks stacked on the wood-slat roof and tarps hanging from unfinished walls. Planks of wood, tools, and fishing poles are leaned up against the porch, the path to the house has been cleared out and defined by stones and shells, and a wooden sign out front has the words "Best Little Inn By The Sea! +fishing equipment" carved into it. Stede and Ed, wearing a teal blouse with brown leather trousers and purple tee with black leather trousers respectively, are standing on the porch and looking out over the land, arms around each others waist. Stede raises his arm in a wave and shouts, "Great to see you two! Come again any time!" In the foreground, Pete and Lucius are walking down the path away from the house, looking tired. Pete has one arm around Lucius's shoulders and his eyes are closed, head listing to the side. Lucius covers his mouth as he yawns, lifting the other to throw a halfhearted wave over his shoulder. 1b. Waist-up in profile of Stede and Ed on the porch, sunrise behind them. Closest to the viewer, Stede stares out after their guests, hand lowering, smile fading to something a little bittersweet. Ed leans into Stede, free hand in his pants pocket, and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he follows Stede's gaze with a thoughtful smile. Ed asks, "You ever think about that for us?" 1c. Repeat. Stede's hand drops further, wrist dangling, as he turns his face toward Ed with a bewildered smile. "What?" Ed straightens from his cuddle, embarrassed, but keeps his right hand on Stede's waist. His left gestures randomly as he scrunches up his face, avoiding Stede's gaze. He explains, "Y'know...the matie-monie thing, whatever."
2a. Zoom out slightly; Stede takes a step back toward the house to face Ed as he pivots with his back toward the yard. They are still connected waist-to-hand. Stede plants his free hand on his hip with a smug little smirk and says, "Well I certainly hope that's not your proposal." Ed waves his free hand in a 'stop' motion, flustered as he meets his partner's eyes, and splutters "Wha- no! No, mate, I just... 'M having a dialogue." 2b. Repeat, zoom in. Ed dips his chin to look up at Stede through his lashes, red-faced and accepting defeat as he mumbles, "...How would you want it to go, though? Hypothetically." Stede giggles helplessly, free hand leaving his hip to rest fingertips on Ed's chest. 2c. Repeat, the background cutting out in favor of the sunrise occurring between them. They are almost forehead-to forehead, both of Stede's hands now pressed to Ed's chest and idly playing with the tips of his hair. Ed stares at his face with hooded eyes. Stede smiles, gaze lowered to focus on his hands, and says "Oh, I don't know. A bit of romance, you know. Dazzle." 2d. Repeat, zoom in to bust, background now mottled oranges and yellows. Ed raises his head to look past Stede with a frown, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeats blankly, "Dazzle." Stede hums idly to himself, concentrating on petting Ed's chest. 2e. Repeat. Stede lifts his head with a little smile, putting them nose-to-nose and adds, "I wouldn't say no to some fireworks." Ed flusters at the pointed reminder of their first time, cheeks turning red and a wobbly smile creeping across his face.
3a. Repeat. Stede asks, "What about you?" Ed leans back from their embrace, smile turning incredulous as he repeats, "Me?!" 3b. Waist up of Ed as he turns, sunrise at his back, to lean his left arm against the porch railing. He glances over the yard with a resigned little frown, fiddling with a piece of his hair with his right hand. He replies, "I dunno. Never really thought about it." 3c. Chest up of Stede as he mirrors Ed's pose with a fond if slightly amused smile, stairs and forest behind him. Offscreen, Ed continues, "Bet you had a whole scrapbook of ideas, eh?" 3d. Repeat. Stede straightens with a "Well!" and turns his body to face the house. 3e. Knees-up from the house POV as both men lean against the porch railing, the yard, ocean, and brightening sky beginning to streak itself with orange beyond. Stede is facing the viewer, back to the yard, leaning with his elbows braced on the railing. He aims his gaze to the side with a bit of a pained smile and says, "When Mary and I were engaged, a scrapbook wouldn't have been much use." Ed is turned toward Stede, left elbow propped on the railing. He scowls and sticks out his tongue at mention of Mary. 3f. Repeat. Stede turns his head toward Ed, who quickly tucks his petty tongue back in his mouth and schools his expression into one of interest. Stede continues, "Everything had been decided for us already. Never really got to the proposal part."
4a. Repeat. Ed turns his body more fully toward Stede, folding his arms on the railing and leaning his head over them with a warm smile. Stede raises his eyebrows in surprise and goes slightly pink as Ed says, "I'll have to make it really good, then." 4b. Stede turns his body toward Ed, left arm sliding against the railing behind him and right hand cupping Ed's chin as he leans closer, nose to nose. Ed's eyes hood, looking at Stede's mouth as is curls into a loving smile. Stede responds, "Can't wait." 4c. Repeat. Ed suddenly goes pale and blurts out, "You'll say yes, though, right?" Stede freezes in surprise, lips puckered in preparation of a kiss. 4d. Repeat. Stede throws his head back in a loud bark of laughter, straightening up and turning fully toward Ed to cup his cheek in his right hand and his shoulder with the other. Ed aims an embarrassed, besotted smile at him as Stede replies, "Ed, of course! Who could say no to you?"
5a. Repeat, both now in profile. The orange and yellow light of the sunrise is slowly spreading across the sky from the left. Ed straightens up from his lean to bring their foreheads together, still a bit red-cheeked and with a nervous edge to his smile as he lowers his gaze. He says, "You can say no if you want, though." Stede smiles at him with every ounce of tenderness he has, hands firm on his cheek and shoulder. He replies, "There's nothing I want more than to say yes to you, Ed. Permanent ink, remember?" 5b. Repeat. Stede moves his right hand from Ed's cheek to hook around his back, tugging him closer as he leans himself back. Ed stumbles forward with a helpless grin, cheeks even redder, bracing himself with his right hand on Stede's chest. When their eyes meet, Stede's smile turns teasing and faux-sinister, continuing, "You're stuck with me regardless. Foreverrr~" 5c. Repeat, larger and brighter, as Stede and Ed finally come together in an affirming kiss, the land behind them retreating to allow the sea and sky to fill the background. The sun finally breaches the horizon, sending glitter sparkling across the waves and gilding the pair in warm golden light. Ed's right hand is cupping the side of Stede's neck, thumb tracing through his sideburns, and Stede's right is hooked fully around his shoulders, cushioned in his soft hair. They are both smiling into the kiss, unhurried and in harmony.
6a. Repeat as they pull back from the kiss just far enough to meet each other's gaze, arms still around each other, Ed's right hand brushing Stede's cheek and Stede's buried in the back of Ed's hair. Ed smirks flirtatiously, eyes hooded, and says, "You know... I hear there's a traditional engagement sex sabbatical, too." Stede matches his expression, left hand sliding down Ed's shoulder to press against his lower back. Stede replies playfully, "Oh, is there? I suppose I can plan that part, then." 6b. Repeat. Ed brings his left hand up to mirror his right, cupping both of Stede's cheeks, and arches up on his toes to lean over Stede with a teasing grin. His movement forces Stede to arch his back in the first motions of a dip, hands briefly flying free of their grip on his future fiance to try to catch his balance. Their lips a centimeter apart, Ed hums, "Mmm, gimme a rehearsal, first." Stede tosses his head back with a giggle in response, eyes closed, cheeks pink. Hearts float above their heads. 6c. Shot at the bottom of the hill Stede and Ed are stationed on, the packed-dirt path to the house curving upward in the background, the stones and shells now more conservatively scattered. Amidst the tall grass and tropical plants lining the way are handmade wooden signs shaped like arrows pointing the way to the inn. Words carved into them say "this way!" and "best inn!" Pete and Lucius are in the foreground, walking down the hill towards the viewer, Pete's right arm still looped around his husband's shoulders. They still look very tired with dark circles beneath their eyes - Pete still hasn't opened his. Lucius has, barely, and is scowling his way forward with a furrowed brow, declaring, "We are leaving them the worst review." Pete nods solemnly. Text nearby points to them and says 'kept up all night by noises'. Pink hearts and exclamation points spill out behind them from the bend in the path, echoing the lovey-dovey noises from above that must have made their stay so insufferable. /end ID
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gl1tteryzebra · 1 month
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kinda can’t stop thinking about rafe fucking me somewhere jj can see as a way to mark his territory on me 🤭🤭
anon darling it’s just like you’re tryna distract me from my responsibilities, this is so fucking hot (sorry this took so long)
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you struggled to maintain balance against the slippery surface of the glass pane; one leg curled around rafe’s hip, the other acting as a wobbly support beam for the rest of your body.
shallow puffs— and on occasion, a groan —slipped past the blonde’s lips. aside from that, the only other noise reverberating throughout the dark room was a product of sarah’s so called ‘charity case party’ downstairs.
rafe’s less than affable sentiment toward the pogues was no secret, but at least when you were around it gave him something else to focus on— even if their presence still got beneath his skin. tonight was different, however. different in the sense that he was given a reason to pick a bone– and unsurprisingly, he snaffled the opportunity up like a provoked animal.
even if a kind heart resided somewhere beneath jj's signature tattered tank top, this didn't stop him from being a real pain in the ass from time to time. it started when you arrived home from country club, loud laughs floating through the front door as the group of friends congregated around the kitchen, enjoying a few beers.
rafe had been intent on dragging you upstairs as fast as your legs could carry you when the mischievous blonde made a harmless jibe at your boyfriends 'anti-social behaviour'. rafe merely rolled his eyes, continuing to trek toward the staircase... but then jj just had to bring you into it.
"hey man if you don't wanna stick 'round that's cool, but you're misses is more than welcome... gotta spot for her right here." your eyes scrunched closed as he obnoxiously patted his thighs; you knew where this was headed.
when rafe chuckled, the sound was ugly and humourless and regretfully familiar. you were forced to hold him back as his large frame lunged at jj, a brief commotion ensued– sarah and kie screaming and clawing at the boys to stop– before your boyfriend finally came to his senses (it was a suicide mission going 1 v 3).
he flung an arm over your shoulder, wiping a small blotch of blood from his nose with a snort. "i'll be lookin' out for you at the club, jj, hopefully we can continue this civil conversation then."
you were quick to coax him onward as the other blonde shouted out an equally childish response.
rafe's emotions only ranged between 0-100. he was never happy, but ecstatic, and the same went for the other side of the coin; he was never mad, but fuming. that's why when you reached his bedroom and he began the process of aggressively tearing off his clothing, you knew you were in for it.
and that was how you ended up here: splayed against the cool glass of rafe's bedroom window, exposed from your head down to your toes as his hips flick into yours ardently. the pool was just around the corner of the weatherboard plantation, and you scrunched your eyes in embarrassment, praying no one would venture so close to be able to see.
“someone’s quiet." he huffed out, lips latching onto your neck as your head falls back in a choked gasped.
"the others, they could–" your voice dwindled into an airy mewl as he angled his hips upward, hitting that one spot that scrambled you brain.
"yeah, that's the fuckin' point." his ravenous mouth latched onto your , doing everything in his power to draw you out from your shell...and it was working.
he snickered "rafe–"
"c'mon, gorgeous. this is my fuckin' house, let'em hear– it's all they'll ever get."
you knew what he was referring to, or more accurately who he was referring to. the possessiveness practically oozing from his dark gaze, those strong hands that pinned you to the spot. he groaned when you tightened around him, face falling into the crook of your neck. sensing your end, his fingers ventured down to your swollen clit. "that's it, come on my cock."
your cheeks burned as you did just that, a loud wail of his name being extracted from your raw throat. he joined you shortly after, grunting as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss. you orbs were glossed over and delirious, and he smirked, tapping your cheek. "'m gonna go shower, don't forget to go pee."
you nodded and your gaze briefly flitted to the backyard as rafe sauntered into the bathroom, widening as a flash of blonde disappeared from view.
sincerely ~ 🦓༝༚༝༚
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Organic Chemist: Everything left of the staircase on the periodic table is metal.
Inorganic Chemist: Actually, boron, carbon, aluminum, silicon, arsenic, tellurium, and astatine are metalloids
Astronomer: Everything but hydrogen and helium are metals.
Physicist: all nonmetals become metallic under very high pressure and low temperature.
Biologist: I think there's like one type of snail that has some metal in their shells 🤷
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lunargrapejuice · 1 month
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hello lovely luna !! i hope life has been treating you well, i’ve been missing u ♥️
for the prompt game, can i request “you’re not in bed. i came looking for you” with my beloved diluc? i’ve been struggling with insomnia n i just want diluc to put me to sleep ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
oh my whole heart was poured into this one i'm aching. i did not mean for it to this long but what can i do he has my heart and soul🩷 i hope you like it awea! i love n miss you too🥺💕
🌙 prompt event
“you’re not in bed. i came looking for you” | diluc x reader with no pronouns used
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the winery at night is blanketed in the ethereal silver glow of the moon this time of night. it feels like something out of a fairy tale with the thick grape vines lining the path you walk, sparkling crystal flies silent in the flutter of their wings, and if you look hard enough even in the moonlight you can see the plump purple grapes. 
it’s cool in a way that feels wonderful against your heated skin but not enough to make you cold and with each breath you take, you try to let the fresh air ease your mind that just won’t stop moving and thinking no matter how much you will it to. you honestly aren’t sure if being out here is working but it feels nice, peaceful and you’re glad to not be tossing and turning in bed while your beloved tries to sleep next to you.
you didn’t want to wake diluc, not when you knew how desperately he needed the sleep despite the fact you’re sure he would tell you he’s doing just fine on the little he does get. it wouldn’t stop you from doing your best to try to get tired all on your own before slipping back into bed, looking after him in this way. 
but it was as if he felt the distance between you growing even in his dreams. his tired arm reaches for you on your side of the bed, needing to pull you closer to him before he could settle once again and when he’s met with cooling sheets barely clinging with your warmth, he’s instantly awake, ruby eyes blinking away tiredness and seeing he’s alone in bed.
quick to take in the space around him, diluc notes how the bathroom light isn’t on and there’s a full glass of water on your night stand. you’re nowhere to be found and he feels a tug on his heart that brings him to his feet, his strides long as he heads for the closed bedroom door and down the grand staircase in only long sleep pants. 
he’s not sure what brings him to look outside before anywhere else, he dreads the thought of you being out there where something could hurt you with him not there to protect you. even if you could hold your own.. he just.. he never wanted to see anything happen to you and he could never get back to sleep without you next to him.
feeling his chest grow tight, he doesn’t let it slow his steps as he grabs his coat off of the back of the chair he had been working from earlier and pulls it over his bare arms and back, throwing open the heavy mahogany doors with ease. 
you spot the brightness of his hair even in the dark night barely lit with the few lanterns that still burn around the property and feel your heart squeeze at the sight of him. his ruby eyes are filled with worry and a softness that makes you think he looks a bit younger, makes you want to reach out and touch his cheek, ease his anxieties, stand on your toes to kiss his brow.
“what’re you doing out here?” you ask and you’re forced to look up as he closes the distance between you, shedding his coat and pulling it over your shoulders as soon as he could reach you. 
you’re enveloped in his warmth and the smell of wine from every angle, melting against his chest as he pulls you in close, like he needed to feel you against him.
“you’re not in bed,” he pulls you even closer, cradling the back of your skull with one hand, the other splayed across your lower back and his words are spoken softly against the shell of your ear. “i came looking for you.” 
“i’m sorry,” your reply is barely audible against the immediate comfort he provides you, the kind that melts down your worries and woes and leaves you feeling safe and like you might actually be able to fall asleep. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i just..” you pause, feeling guilty for having worried him by being out here. “i couldn’t sleep.”
“why didn’t you wake me?” 
he’s not angry or upset but you cling to him like a child in trouble. “you need your sleep too, you know.”
“i need you. i need you in my arms and close to me” he says, his words making you forget anything other than just being with him. it’s comfortably quiet between you for a few moments before he speaks again. “we can stay out here longer if you’d like.”
shaking your head against his chest, feeling the scars on his back under your fingertips and the soft skin around them, you let out a quiet ‘no, let’s go back to bed’ and feel your feet be swept out from under you the next second.
easily diluc carries you with one arm under your legs and the other at your back. in the night air his skin is still so incredibly warm and in his steady steps, you feel the tiredness begin to settle in your bones and let yourself skin further in his arms, succumbing to sleep before he makes it to the second floor of the manor.
♡♡♡♡♡
genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
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evan-collins90 · 2 months
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Farallon restaurant - 450 Post Street, San Francisco, CA (opened June 1997 - closed 2020)
"Farallon is named after a fishing island off the Pacific coast.
The underwater fantasy theme drives the $4 million restaurant. The electric atmosphere grabs customers the minute they walk through the glass doors framed by a brushed steel and Lucite canopy, which vaguely looks like a scallop shell. Giant jellyfish chandeliers hang from the high ceiling. The walls are textured with shellfish impressions, and lighted yellow pillars that climb the walls are imprinted with seaweed. And that's just the bar.
The big main dining room is more elegant, but maintains the marine motif. Tiny tiles form mosaics on the ceiling, where two huge light fixtures are formed into seashells. Even the hood over the kitchen carries out the theme: It's covered in copper scales. And suspended over the counter are beautiful blown-glass lights shaped like fish.
A gracefully curving staircase leading to the mezzanine is covered in 50,000 blue-black glass beads that resemble magnified caviar, while the wall sconces replicate stands of coral and barnacles."
Excellent examples of the 'Org-Nouveau' style popular in the 1990's
Designed by Pat Kuleto
Scanned from American Theme Restaurants by I.M. Tao (1999) and the February 1998 issue of Interiors Magazine
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violetsrxse · 3 months
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Just How I Remember - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister!Reader
Summary: After 50 years of being trapped Under the Mountain you, your brother and Prythian are finally free of Amarantha's rule. After all the suffering, you finally get to return to not only your home, but also your mate.
Warnings: Mentions of UTM, just some angsty fluff ig.
Word Count: 1,442
A/N: This is my first ever piece that I have ever posted and the first thing I've written in a while, so I'm a bit nervous. I'm thinking of making this into a series though and tbh this is more of a prologue than anything. It's a bit shorter than I would've liked but I'm still getting back into the feel of writing.
Amarantha’s reign was over, she was dead. 
It was a lingering thought as you walked through the halls of what was once Prythian’s sacred mountain, now a hollow shell, the walls imbued with the agonised screams of Amarantha’s victims. 
Your mind wandered to the time before this mess had occurred. Before you and so many others had been deceived and caged like animals, reduced to cattle under a sadistic monster's rule.
After walking for some time you reached a spiral staircase, venturing upwards, closer and closer to the light that filtered through an opening in the rock. You reached the top, being met with a doorway carved into the stone, leading to a balcony overlooking the forest surrounding the mountain. 
Amarantha hadn’t let you leave, not even once. For fifty years you hadn’t been anywhere but under the tons of rock.
Walking through the door, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, your eyes stinging slightly at the brightness.
You couldn’t remember the last time you saw the sun. The sweet warmth of its rays on your skin, the leathery membrane of your wings. Couldn’t remember the feel of the wind as it brushed the hair over your neck, your shoulders.
You gazed in the direction of Velaris, though so far away, you could almost see it. The distant memory of the beautiful snow capped mountains, the bustling streets of the city that you and your brother gave everything to protect. You’d be returning soon, you’d be home.
You hadn’t yet worked up the courage to tug on the bond in your chest, the nerves had gotten the best of you. You knew it was irrational to be nervous, knew he’d be happy with just knowing you were okay. Alive. It had been so long since you closed down the bond, shutting him out. Not only for his safety, but also your sanity, not wanting him to know the horrors you had been subject to.
What you had been made to do to others.
It wouldn’t be long before Rhysand was finished meeting with the other High Lords and you would both winnow home at last. 
Your mind spun, recalling all that had happened in the past three months. The arrival of the human girl, her undying determination to save her love. Your brother’s growing interest in her, the way he’d tried to protect her. He hadn’t yet told you anything about why he’d done it.
But you had a good idea of what it was.
He was your twin after all, he was basically an open book.
The sun was high in the sky by the time Rhysand appeared at your side, looking to you before furrowing his brows in concern. Taking your face in his hands, your brother wiped tears you hadn’t even realised were falling from your cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly, pulling you into his chest. “It’s over now, we’re going home.”
Sniffling, you wrapped your arms around him, willing your tears to cease. 
“I know, it's just been so long since I’ve been outside,” pulling away you trained your attention back on the scenery before you. “I’d forgotten how good the sun feels.”
He stayed silent, tucking you into his side. For several moments, you simply watched the clouds go by.
Rhys broke the silence, “Let’s go home.” His words were rushed as if he couldn’t stand one more moment away from home, from your family. You couldn’t either.
Nodding, you took his hand before night swirled around you, jarring but familiar. 
And before you knew it, you were home.
𓆩♡𓆪
Velaris was as beautiful as you remembered. 
When the darknesses whorled away and your sight was no longer blocked, you got an undisrupted view of the city you had missed so much. The sounds around you faded away as you beheld the people walking the streets, free to live safely. Untouched.
With your gaze fixed on the rainbow, the Sidra. You didn’t sense the presence of several people entering the room before a warm hand was pressed to your shoulder. 
Released from your stupor you whipped around, a set of hazel eyes meeting your own violet ones. There were tears there, primed to fall down his tanned cheeks. 
Without a moment's hesitation, you were flinging yourself into his arms, gripping tightly to him as heart wrenching sobs tore their way from deep in your chest. Arms wrapped tightly around you, supporting your weight as your knees gave out under you.
His soft voice broke through the onslaught of your cries, a hand brushing over your back. You only gripped him tighter. 
It seemed like forever before you finally gathered the strength to pull your face from his chest, meeting his eyes once more. Your lip trembled as those gentle, scarred thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks. 
Words escaped you as his eyes scanned over your face, taking note of every new scar. The flicker of rage in his eyes was short lived as you brought your own hands to his face, smoothing over his skin. He was the first to speak, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. 
“My love.” Was all he said before tugging you back into his chest, brushing his nose against your hair, inhaling your scent. 
“I missed you so much,” you finally managed to choke out, “I thought I’d never see you again.” The sentence ended with a hiccup of a sob, it only made him wrap his arms tighter around you. 
Up until this point, the others had given you the privacy to reunite with your mate, leaving the room with Rhys in tow. You hadn’t even noticed.
Pulling away slightly, you looked up at him again. His eyes first, then his lips. He understood immediately, leaning closer slowly before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Brows pinching together with the effort of keeping your tears at bay you kissed him back, fingers drifting into the hair at his nape. 
You held him, relishing in the closeness you were deprived of for half a century. Never wanting to pull away you kept kissing him, but he kept it soft as if he were scared to break you. 
After what felt like several minutes you finally pulled away, regaining your ability to speak. 
“Azriel.” You whispered, near unbelieving that he stood before you. 
“Y/N.” He answered with a small smile on his face you hadn’t seen apart from in your dreams in such a long time. 
You can’t help but smile back at him and though it is small, it makes him beam nonetheless. Finally pulling away from each other you remember the rest of your friends- your family. 
“Where is everyone?” You inquire, scanning over the space around you. The soft crackle of the fire in the hearth, the faelight spread throughout the room creating a warm atmosphere, the couches situated in a crescent shape for weekly game nights. It was the exact same as you remembered, as if it hadn’t been touched since you left. 
Perhaps it hadn’t.
Watching you closely as you take in your surroundings, Azriel answers “They wanted to give us a moment alone,” A pause “they didn’t want to overwhelm you. Rhys went with them.”
Nodding, you just now acknowledge the low voices flowing from the other side of the door, leading to the kitchen. You smile fondly at the slightly louder voice, it was Cassian.
Walking over to the door you open it, smiling as you take in your family. Mor in her usual red, Amren in her grey set and Cassian clad in the Illyrian leathers that may as well be moulded to his skin at this point. 
It’s Mor who reaches you first, pulling you into a bone crushing hug that you quickly reciprocate. Followed by Cassian, picking you right up off the ground in a bone crushing embrace. Even Amren hugs you briefly, the only sign of her relief. 
Azriel stands close to you, a fond smile on his face and a barely there pinch to his eyebrows that most would miss with a glance. It concerns you, but you understand the guilt that he and the rest of the Inner Circle must feel. Over what you and Rhys had done to protect them, what you would’ve done until your last breath as long as it meant that they were safe. 
Rhys waits until you part before a serious expression washes over his face, his eyes hollow. You know that he’s going to say something to sour the mood, and that he’s feeling guilty to have to do so. 
You understand though, because it isn’t over.
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exhaslo · 6 months
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hey in the mean time I wanted to request something sweet but spicy 😋, so what about (collage?)
Bully!miguel ? X a nobody!fem reader (like someone that the popular kids doesn’t even know about or care into that much offend 😔 and is often bullied by different people and get in the middle of the fight, well tried not to and only get push,nudge, or whatever) and Miguel who is a bullied nerd and saw her one day that catch his eyes it was reader who’s was running into her next period.
Smut pls and fluff PLS 😭🙏 (love any ending 🫶😼) HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY! bye eshalo (I think I spelled it wrong 😔 I’m sorry)
Okay, I think I got a unique idea for this. Gonna spice it up a bit if that's okay~ ;)
Summary: The biggest bully in school had got his eye on the 'ghost' of the college.
Warning: Minors DNI, bullying, smut, fingering, oral (f-receiving)
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There was a popular rumor throughout the college of a ghost that wandered the halls. At first, many people did not believe it since the rumor had only begun a year ago; but, as the weeks passed more and more people saw the ghost. It became a game after two months. Whoever can catch the ghost will win a prize.
It was all fun and games until you found out that you were the ghost. The tears that streamed down your face that night were heavy. You knew that you avoided people and didn't like to get involved, but to be called a ghost. This was worse than the bullying you had throughout middle school and high school.
It only got worse from there. You were afraid to do anything. Every time you stepped out of your private dorm, people could claim they saw the ghost and tried to catch you. You nearly weep every time you even tried to go study. It was all a joke to everyone.
"I hate this," You cried softly as you sat in the staircase of your dorm building.
"Hate what?"
"Being called the ghost." You whimpered. It took you a moment before gasping, "W-Who's there?"
You rubbed your eyes as Miguel walked up the stairs. Your eyes widen in shock. The college's biggest bully stood right below you. His tall and overwhelming features standing out. He gave you a cold stare as he observed you from head to toe.
"You're a pretty cute ghost,"
Miguel smirked as he watched you flinch. Truth be told, Miguel knew exactly who you were. He had his eyes on you since you started this college. Miguel had bullied a lot of people, but watching you get bullied erked him. He wanted to be the shoulder for you to cry on, but how could he approach you? He already had a bad reputation.
"Y-You're-"
"Miguel O'Hara, pleasure to meet you."
Within an instant, Miguel hovered before you. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. You withdrew your hand, walking backwards towards the wall. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you tried to come up with words. He was too close.
"So the ghost can be touched," Miguel said with a smug grin. You bit your lower lip,
"I-I'm not a ghost!"
"I know you're not," Miguel had your back pressed against the wall, "I've had my eye on you for a while now. I want to get to know you. Will you let me do that?"
You gulped as you looked up into his eyes. The biggest threat in this campus wanted to get close to you? As scared as you were, you couldn't help but agree. This was going to be your way of having protection. Besides, Miguel was good looking. Perhaps with him around, you wouldn't be called a ghost anymore.
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It had only been a month since Miguel became your personal bodyguard as you called it. He stuck by your side like glue, keeping you company and helping you avoid those pranksters. You loved having Miguel by yourself. He made you laugh and helped you come out of your shell. Not to mention he was hot. You had dreamed about him far too many times to count, but it wasn't like you were going to make a move anytime soon.
Miguel on the other hand was holding back so much. He wanted to press you against a wall and ravish you with kisses. He wanted to mark you as his. To make you scream his name. Miguel was ready to go all primal on you. Every time he hung out with you, he had to take care of his erection afterwards. You were just so quiet, so shy. He loved hearing your voice.
Today was going to be like any other day. Miguel had already taken care of some annoying pests and was ready to destress with you. He made his way over to your dorm, imagining the smile on your face. Right as he walked up the stairs, he heard sobbing. Those sobs belonged to you!
"(Y/N)! What's wrong?" Miguel asked.
You whimpered, rubbing your eyes as Miguel stood before you. You could see the anger on his face as he slowly approached you, taking the net off your head. He bend down and stroked your cheek before taking off some of the rope that got tangled around your arms and legs.
"I-I just...I just went to check on my mail..." You cried softly. Miguel shushed you, helping you up, "T-They just laughed."
"C'mon, let's go into your room."
Miguel took your key and opened your door. He let you in first before following and shutting the door behind. With a quick lock, he approached you once more and wiped your tears away.
"Don't cry, (Y/n)."
"But Miguel, they still think I'm a ghost." You whimpered. Miguel let out a soft sigh as he leaned forward, kissing you,
"Can I do that to a ghost?"
"N-No?"
"What about this?"
Miguel's hand stroked down your sides as he kept kissing you. You're sad whimpers turned into pleasure ones as Miguel cheered you up. His soft touch was not what you were expecting. It sent shivers up your spine. His tongue licked your lips, demanding entrance. You obeyed, allowing him to bully you for once.
Miguel liked how easily you gave in. His gaze met with yours as he slid your shorts down. His bulge making contact with your panties, grinding against you softly. He didn't want to take things too far, but who knows what will happen. Miguel watched you gasp, holding onto his arms as he moved his hips against yours.
"Can a ghost feel this?" Miguel groaned lowly, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit.
"N-No~"
"Good. I'm going to treat you right, (Y/N). I'll show those guys that they messed with the wrong person. You're my girl."
"H-Hah~ Miguel~"
You whimpered a moan as you moved your hips against his hand. Your back arched against the bed as his fingers started to pump inside your tight gummy walls. His fingers alone were stretching you out. It made your vision blur slightly as you became overwhelmed with pleasure. Each pump and curl of his fingers made the knot in your stomach tighten.
Miguel licked his lips as he took your panties off, throwing them across your room. He watched as your juices spilled over his hand once he made you cum. Your face was red with embarrassment. It was cute. Miguel took his fingers out, giving them a lick,
"Ghosts can't be this cute or red in the face," He teased.
"M-Miguel." You stuttered, trying to hide your face.
Miguel only responded with a hum as he spread your legs. You tried to protest, but gasped loudly as he flicked his tongue against your clit. You arched your back, moaning his name as Miguel held you in place. His tongue swirling around your folds, giving each part of you a taste. No ghost could taste this sweet. No ghost could moan this deliciously.
"M-Mig!"
Your cries were music to his ears. Miguel was going to make this school regret bullying you. You were his. Miguel lapped up your juices as you cam against his tongue. Your throbbing pussy was just asking to be filled, but that had to wait. Miguel had already pushed you to your limit for today.
"Rest up, (Y/n). I promise I'll make you feel even better next time, but I have to teach someone a lesson," Miguel hummed as he licked his lips. You were a panting mess against your bed,
"B-But-"
"I won't let anyone bully you again. You're my girl. Now stay here until I get back. I'm going to finish this later."
You just nodded and blushed madly as you saw his tight erection against his pants. Covering your face, you watched as Miguel left your room with his head held high. You whimpered quietly, still flustered from the orgasm he gave you,
"I'm your ghost~"
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Hope you liked the twist I did with your prompt!!
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Day 21: Thighriding
♤♡-Pairs: Wriothesley x male!reader
☆☆-Warnings: Thigh riding, male anatomy, cuming in pants, begging, good boy (for reader), he calls you pretty, mentions of licking you clean at the end
A/N: Will be busy later, so early post! Enjoy♡
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"Your Grace, you wanted to see me?" You asked, pausing briefly at the top of the staircase. "Yes, come in," he waved his hand toward you before gesturing to the seat in front of the desk. As you sat down, he chuckled. "You don't have to be so formal with me, you know, no one else is here." Heat radiated off your cheeks as you looked down. 
"M'sorry, force of habit Your Gra-i mean Wriothesley." 
He hummed, tapping his fingers on the desk, eyes casting over your body. You shifted, "So, what did you need?" And without missing a beat, "You." 
Already, you could feel your dick twitch in your pants, hardening immediately. "M-me? Why?" It was a dumb question. What else could he possibly mean? But he humored you anyway, scooting his chair back as he patted his thigh, saying nothing. Your mouth felt dry as you swallowed thickly, lifting yourself from the chair. Knowing full well, he could see how excited you'd gotten from just the mere thought of him wanting you. His eyes darted to your hardening erection before looking back up at you. Wriothesley placed his large hands on your waist as soon as you sat down. Your ass flush with the meat of his thighs. 
His hands ghosted up your sides, eyes looking into yours before he hummed. "You know very well why you're here." He leaned forward, nosing at the expanse of your neck. Nibbling on your earlobe before tugging, "You're my favorite stress relief, apart from tea." A shiver ran through your body as you couldn't help but move your hands to his shoulders. Your grip tightened as he continued to ghost his lips across your skin. 
"But before that, I want to watch you." He leaned back, his hands still resting on your waist. Watch you? What did-, "Do you mean.." you trailed off, the request already clicking in your mind. He nodded, waiting. Your cheeks heated as excitement grew in your tummy.
Slowly, you shifted your hips. Gasping softly as your clothed cock rubbed against his thigh. The firm muscle doing more than its share at bringing you pleasure. "Your Grace.." you sighed, struggling to get good momentum. Your legs dangling just barely above the ground. "Need my help? Beg for it." More embarrassment (and excitement) rushed through you.
"Please Your Grace…help me, need your help." You pleaded, fingers tugging at his shirt as you still tried to move yourself. The tip of your cock already leaking sticky pre from the stimulation. "Try again." He said almost immediately, making you whine. You wrapped your arms around him now, whining against the shell of his ear as you indeed, tried again. "Your Grace, please help me grind myself against your thigh. Wanna make a mess for you." 
That seemed to do the trick as his hands slid back down to your hips, helping you move. You gasped, the pleasure increasing. Cock twitching and leaking into the front of your pants. The sticky liquid causing your tip to get caught every time you moved. Creating a lovely tingling sensation that had your stomach muscles pulling taught, whining against his neck. "So pretty," he murmured. His thumbs massaging circles into the dips of your hips. Warmth filled your tummy from his words, a knot forming, indicating it wouldn't be long before-
"Oh fuck-Your Grace…m'gonna…m'gonna.." 
"Go ahead. Make a mess for me like you wanted." The low vibration of his voice rumbling against your chest was the last straw. With your face buried in his neck, your hips stuttered as you came. Doing exactly as he said, making a mess of yourself. Your dick pulsating, dripping more of your cum onto the fabric of your boxers. "Good boy," he purred. Lifting you from his shoulder so he could see the mess you made. The front of your pants now harboring a wet spot. He licked his lips,
"So messy. Why don't you lay back for me, and I'll lick you clean."
Masterlist
A/N: Should I write a part two of him licking you clean? 🤔
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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months
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Eddie Munson x fem!reader [4.7K] mean!eddie, toxic relationships, exes to hooking up, power plays and a nineties house party. You weren’t sure whose house you were in, but there was body glitter smeared across their white walls. 
Weezer was blasting from the stereo in the living room, crowds of people moving between there and the kitchen, more draped over the staircase, making out with people they just met. You weren’t sure what time it was, but it was dark outside the windows, the rest of the house lit up with plug-in disco balls that spun slowly, discs of orange and red and blue and pink bouncing off of faces and floors. 
It was late enough that you’d lost your shoes, late enough that the watermelon vodka you’d brought with you was empty. Late enough to make some bad decisions. 
Robin found you in the kitchen, shoulders bumping against yours as she steadied herself, eyes red rimmed and she smelled like smoke and cherries, the blue eyeshadow you helped her perfect was now a smattering of aquamarine glitter down her cheeks. The lights made her look like a fairy, the cheap drink made her look too far gone. 
“You okay?” You asked her, grinning when she pulled you into her chest, your cheek smashed against her own. You’d have matching freckles now, blue and sparkly. “Where’s Nance?”
“She’s peeing,” Robin yelled back, a little too loud since the music was fading into another song. You winced but laughed all the same when she smacked a noisy kiss to your cheek before turning her mouth to the shell of your ear. “That guy has been checking you out all night.”
Robin gestured not so subtly to a boy by the door. Tall, blonde, green eyes. Pretty enough, if you liked cargo pants and the Ed Hardy look. You didn’t know him but he caught your gaze and lifted his chin in greeting. You looked away. 
“Mmm,” you wrinkled your nose and you dragged Robin back into the living room, coffee tables pushed up against walls as throngs of people gyrated under the lights. Everyone sparkled, mini skirts showing off bare legs, flashes of neon stripes in hair. “Not my type,” you told her. 
“Oh, we’re getting fussy now, huh?” Nancy appeared between you both, a bright blue bottle of something in one hand. She took a sip and then offered it to Robin. “I thought you wanted laid tonight?”
You shrugged, looking down, avoidant. You plucked at the charm bracelet on your wrist, turning the glow stick that was wrapped above round and round. You weren’t sure where it came from but it turned your skin violet. “Maybe,” you told your friends. “I don’t know.”
You had wanted to get laid tonight. That was the plan, anyway. That’s why you were wearing your shortest skirt, a white, pleated thing that would be more suited for a cheerleader but a boy had once told you it was his favourite. The snag in the plan was that particular boy was nowhere to be found.  You had already searched through the party with only the faces of strangers staring back at you, and when you made it into the backyard, your heart stalled at the sight of Gareth, of a leather jacket and a black and white baseball shirt. 
But the boy wasn’t with his friend and you didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction of letting them know you were looking. So when Gareth caught your eye and smirked, shrugging, you spun on your heel and tried to pretend you didn’t know even know him anymore. 
It had been months, after all. 
And you had been the one to break up with him. Hadn’t you? That part of the story was blurry, maybe even up for debate. At least, he liked to fight you on the fact of the matter. Another party, another girl who got too close, a situationship that hadn’t been defined even though the night before he was whispering all things sweet into the junction of your thighs. It had all been cherry vodka and weed, a messy argument under the blare of R’n’B and neither of you had had the patience to listen to the other. 
You’d thrown his leather jacket at him and walked home.
The next weekend you’d watched as he pulled Tammy Peterson onto his lap and licked into  her mouth, his heavy eyes on you as you stood across the room and watched. Tammy left with his jacket that night, heavy and clinking with zips and chains.
You hadn’t spoken since. 
So why did seeing his name buzz across your phone screen not surprise you?
munson: heard u were lookin 4 me 
You scoffed, staring down at the little pink phone in your hand, the tiny text barely even visible in the low light. Confidence oozed from his message and you lifted your head, scanning through the crowd until you found Gareth, still lingering by the back door and he grinned knowingly when he caught your eye. You scowled, lifting your hand to flip him the bird and the sincerity of it was lessened by the butterfly ring on your finger. 
Robin and Nancy frowned, both of them moving to your sides to peer over your shoulders. “What’s going on? Who’s texted you?”
You hit the back button suspiciously quick, the green Home Screen empty of anything incriminating but you still hid it against your chest. The device seemed to burn you, as did your cheeks. “What?” You yelled over the music, swallowing hard. You suddenly wished the stereo was louder. “Nothing. No one.”
It was easy to make an excuse then, leaving the two girls on the makeshift dance floor as you pushed past people on the staircase, elbowing couples who were too busy making out. You caught the bathroom door just as someone was leaving it, a boy too drunk to stand upright and he slurred something at you just before you slammed it behind him, sliding the lock into place. The music was quieter in there, a muted thud of drum and bass from below your feet. There was a half full can of beer on the toilet cistern and someone had left their bra in the bathtub. There was more glitter on the tiles, pink, lavender and gold and the overhead bulb had been swapped out for a bug zapper, the whole room turned violet. 
You tapped out a reply, perched against the sink, bubblegum pink nails pressing furiously at the buttons, your nose scrunched in annoyance, the tip of your tongue trapped between teeth. 
u heard wrong :)
You didn’t have to wait long for a reply, your cell vibrating in your hands and announcing a new text message. The tiny screen of your Nokia lit up green with the boy’s name, something that still made your heart pound.  
munson: dont play coy w me sweetheart.. we both know u miss me x
don’t flatter yourself baby 
You knew this game. You loved this game. And Eddie Munson was your favourite person to play it with. It was coming around to that late night early morning hour that led to badly made plans, that time of the night when friends were too drunk to keep tabs and the front door of the house you were in had a pretty golden glow to it, an escape to someone’s bed. 
You squeezed your thighs together, chipped nail polish tapping against your teeth and you chewed at your thumb, waiting. You really did want to get laid. It had been too long, one drunken hook up since you’d decided that Eddie wasn’t worth your time anymore, a guy from the town over, taken back to yours after a party in someone else’s backyard that led to beer pong and a heavy make out session against a strangers corvette. 
He couldn’t find your clit, thought foreplay was a few minutes of pinching at your tits and he came before you were close to anything that resembled pleasure. Then he drank the last of your OJ, stole your phone charger and left at four am. 
This? Eddie? One last hook up? You needed this. Nay, you deserved this. Even if your friends would strongly disagree. Your relationship with Eddie Munson had been somewhat tumultuous, most would say. From high school sweethearts to twenty somethings that were headed in different directions, he was a boy you couldn’t quit all that easily. Eddie liked guitar and gaming, smoking weed and sleeping in and your chances at a decent enough career path were woefully diminished if you stayed behind in Hawkins for him.  
Eddie grew anxious, jealous, turned resentful and then got too cocky, growing out his curls, wearing big boots and leather jackets and giving himself tattoos in his friends' basements. You got colder, distant, impatient. Then break ups ended in make ups and that ended in fucking him in the front seat of his van and it would happen all over again the next weekend. 
It was fun until it wasn’t.
But the sex was fucking ridiculous.  
And so was Eddie’s confidence because he simply replied with an address, the new apartment you’d only heard about. He’d taken his time, but he’d saved up and moved out of Wayne’s, out of the trailer park and into a small one bed, a new girl every other weekend to grace the sheets. 
munson: 624 Oakbank Street apt 61B. second floor sweetheart, c u soon ;)
No. You wouldn’t. You shouldn’t. You did. Fuck it, it’s fine. 
You unlocked the door, swerved the drunk girls who fell in through the frame and tackled the stairs again, hopping over splayed limbs and couples intertwined, heading for the front door and hoping someone would be around who could take you to the other side of town. 
“Where are you going?”
Robin. She was grinning, smug, knowing. You shrugged, pocketing your cell before she could grab it and you resisted the urge to make a run for it. “Nowhere. Home. I’m hungry.”
Robin snorted, glitter specks shining from her cheeks. “For dick? Or a cheeseburger?”
Your lips quirked up. There wasn’t much use in lying. “Both?” 
—————
Eddie was standing at his apartment door when you turned the corner. Your heels had clicked up the stairwell and the wall sconces lit the way, your eyes flicking over each door number until it didn’t matter anymore. 61B was already open, a boy standing in the frame in soft jeans, acid wash blue with rips in the knees, a Metallica band shirt that’s collar was loose and stretched out. He still had his rings on, silver and chunky and supposedly scary looking.
The chain you’d bought him for his birthday last year was still around his neck. 
It should’ve made you angry, it should’ve at least made you annoyed but the cheap vodka and the empty feeling in your chest and between your legs had you head spinning. A record that stuttered and skipped, the same dirty loop stuck in your head because you were sure there’d been much hotter men at the party, maybe. Probably. 
Right?
But at that moment, Eddie was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. He was smirking, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame, curls soft and falling into his eyes like he’d just washed them and you tried not to walk faster, to not trip over yourself in a haste to get to him. 
He didn’t kiss you hello. He just kept smirking and he moved to the side to let you in, eyes shining with glee as he followed your movements, your body brushing past him as you entered his new place. It smelled like his room at Wayne’s, held the same scene that once reminded you of home, smoke and hidden weed, Eddie’s cologne and the same detergent his uncle used. 
It made you bristle and square your shoulders. This wasn’t the plan. 
“Nice place,” you said and you sounded bored, unimpressed. Good. “I see we’re still not giving up the toys.” You gestured to the shelf above the sofa, a line of hand painted figurines placed carefully in a battle formation. 
“They’re collectibles, sweetheart,” Eddie grinned and he didn’t sound phased. He didn’t look bothered. “Have some taste. You want a drink?”
“We both know I’m not here for you to wine and dine me, Eddie,” you tilled your eyes and stood in the middle of the room, your hands on your hips. Suddenly, your skirt felt so much shorter than it had before and the boy let his gaze fall to your legs, the expanse of bare thigh that was framed by pretty pleats. “Let’s not act cute.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh, an eyebrow quirked. He let himself drop onto the sofa, an army green thing with corduroy cushions, his arms stretched out along the back of it. He pouted. “You don’t think I’m cute?”
You said nothing. You couldn’t. Your heart was beating too fast. 
Eddie made a cooing sound, a soft, patronising thing that made your toes curl in your heels and the cotton fabric of your underwear just grew a little wetter, clinging to you. It was awful. 
“We both know you think I’m cute, c’mon now,” Eddie teased. His eyes were shining, dark in the low light because he only had one damn lamp in the room. “You don’t wanna play nice? Fine.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he plucked a half smoked joint from the amber glass ashtray on the coffee table in front of him. He sparked up, placing it lazily between his lips before gesturing to you, gaze heavy. Smoke trailed from his lips as he spoke, the joint between his lips, expertly held in place with no hands. “Take your clothes off then.”
You should’ve been outraged, you should’ve laughed in his face. You should’ve flipped him off and grabbed the bag you dumped on his breakfast bar and left. But Eddie was grinning at you and he looked like a challenge, he looked like a dare, he looked like the prettiest fucking mistake and you really wanted to make a bad decision. 
A terrible one, maybe. Fuck it, it’s fine. 
You shrugged off your jacket. Denim and metal buttons hitting the floor and you kept eye contact the entire time, unflinching when Eddie’s grin widened. He relaxed, looking every bit in control as he slouched into the couch cushions, eyes wandering over the bare skin you uncovered, smoke trailing from his barely parted lips and up to the ceiling. 
He was already hard, you could tell. You could see. The heavy bulge prominent underneath his denim, twitching as he got off on being in control. 
Your hands came to your chest, trailing down your sternum and chasing the tiny lavender buttons there, a purple camisole top popped apart with each twist of your fingers. It fell apart without much effort, fell to the floor when easier with a tiny shrug of your shoulders and you stood in just your skirt and chunky heels, looking like some kind of wet dream barbie. 
You didn’t need a bra with the plans you’d had for yourself. 
You cocked your head to the side, indifferent, unbothered. You tried to act like your heart wasn’t racing, like your cunt wasn’t throbbing and you wanted to beg to be touched. Eddie could play a cruel game and weakness wasn’t an option, so you stood a little taller and let your tits jut out all pretty, peaked nipples and trails of Robin’s pink body glitter evident on your collarbone. 
Eddie sucked in a breath, lips twisting to hide the twitch of a smile that seemed more real than the others, a proud grin that told you you were winning so far. So you hooked your thumbs into the waist of your skirt and shimmed your hips, white pleats joining the rest of your clothes on the floor, a pretty pool of fabric and dignity. 
Bubblegum pink thong, cherry red heels, strappy and with platforms high enough to crush a man’s ego. 
“Keep the shoes on,” Eddie murmured, jaw tense, cheeks a rosy flush. “They’re real pretty, honey. They new?” The boy leaned forward again, elbows in knees, the roach stubbed out in the ashtray. 
You nodded, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and your bracelets jingled as you ran your hands down your stomach, fingertips trailing along the delicate string of your underwear that curved over your hips, the soft of your stomach. 
“If I told you to come n’suck my dick, would you do that too?” Eddie’s smile was sharklike, his words taunting, a little mean. Like he thought he was still winning. “You look so pretty on your knees, you know that? Love it when you put that hot little mouth to use.”
Your eyes narrowed even though your breathing hitched. Just a little, not enough for him to notice. But you knew it was only a matter of time before you had to rub your thighs together and the pretty pink shade of your underwear would turn a little darker. “Take your clothes off and we’ll see what happens.” 
Eddie laughed, a brave noise, smug and cocky. He tilted his head, jaw a strong line, the shadow of stubble there and you knew if you got to dig your teeth into it, he’d moan for you. 
“You think you’re callin’ the shots here, babe? That’s real cute, you’re almost naked and you think you’re in charge?”
You grinned back, standing a little prouder, fingers hooking into the hand of your thong, running across your navel. Eddie followed the movement, gritted his teeth and huffed. 
“That’s exactly why I’m in charge,” you cooed, pouting, sickly sweet and far from innocent. “Take your clothes off, Eddie, don’t be shy.”
He shook his head, too stubborn, an age old game you both played so well. Except before, it was sweetened with kisses, soft laughter and gentle hands that teased and coaxed the other into submission. Now? Now this was just psychological warfare. 
He stared at you, mean, eyes narrowed and his cheeks still pink, slouched back on the sofa with a casual hand thrown over his crotch. You weren’t sure if it was supposed to hide his hard on or offer some relief, but you watched the length of him twitch when you shifted your weight, popping one hip and he pressed his palm over himself. 
You grinned, victorious. 
But still, he didn’t move. So you sighed, wistful and dramatic and you tried to ignore the rising heat in your chest because you were so exposed and so vulnerable, ready to lay yourself bare for the guy that broke your heart and then spent each Saturday night in bed with you, pretending that he didn’t. 
But hey, maybe you were to blame for that too. 
Instead of saying anything else, you shrugged and made your way over to an armchair. You recognised it from Wayne’s trailer, one Eddie must’ve taken to remind him of home and you dropped yourself onto it, one leg hooked over an arm. You let your head fall back, lazy, the last buzz from the beer you took in the back of the cab simmering below your skin and you didn’t waste anymore time teasing. Your hand slid into the front of your thong, fingers seeking out in the way they knew best, parting your folds until you were spread and hidden, eyes scrunching shut at the pad of your finger swiping over your clit.  
You made a pretty noise, extra soft and gasping, just for Eddie. He’d long since taught you how to put on a show, always about the drama. So you whined, let your lips fall into a pout and arched your back. Your fingers slipped down, prodding experimentally at your entrance before you gave up all pretence and slid two inside of yourself, not long enough, not thick enough, but it satiated the empty feeling that had clung to you since you first arrived at the party. 
“Fuck,” Eddie groaned and your eyes shot open, gaze finding his and he was pinker then before, all flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, his ringed fingers wrapping around the outline of his cock through his jeans and he squeezed it roughly. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart, that’s just filthy.”
He said it like a compliment, words like a reward and they made your body fizz, skin electric and you smiled, humming lazily like you didn’t care. 
You did you did you did. 
You wanted to one up him, you wanted to win, you wanted to break him and put him back together and make him fall in love with you all over again. You wanted to make sure he never looked at another girl. You wanted to make him crawl. 
So you pulled your fingers from yourself, slick and glossy in the low light, bringing them to your lips before you sucked them. Eddie’s jaw dropped, eyes hooded and pupils blown wide and he leaned forward, desperate to see more. He was barely holding himself up, clinging to the coffee table as he stared at the space between your thighs. 
“Holy fuck, babe, that— that’s,” he cut himself off with a groan when you snuck your hand back inside your underwear, wet fingers sliding noisily over your clit. “Oh, that’s so fuckin’ hot. Come ‘n let me have a taste, baby. Let me get my mouth on that pretty pussy, huh?”
You shook your head and smiled, cotton candy underwear stretched tight over your knuckles and you moved a little quicker. You weren’t giving in. You’d make yourself come before you did. 
It took three more minutes before Eddie moved, growling obscenities as he stood and yanked off his shirt, snapping at his belt buckle with one hand as he crossed the room. You thought he’d be on you, you thought he’d maybe drop to the floor and put his mouth on you, lick you slow and soft like he was so good at, like he’d asked for. But he grinned something wicked as he grabbed your wrist, hand tugged from between your thighs and then you were pulled up. He wasn’t rough about it, but he certainly wasn’t gentle. 
“You wanna play games?” He huffed, voice wavering a little because he finally had his hands on you. Eddie gazed down at you, still a little taller even despite your heels. His hand caught your chin, finger and thumb pinching at your cheeks until your lips popped into a pout and you burned. “Let’s play, pretty thing. You wanna be my toy, huh?”
You gave in, only just. You nodded, gasping when Eddie’s thumb stroked over your lips and he smiled, boyish and charming and all too pretty. Then he spoke. “I always used to break my toys.”
Fuck. 
He spun you, fast enough to be disorienting and then you were pushed onto the armchair, knees on the cushions and your chest to the back of it. Your hands curled over the top of it, holding on for what was about to come. The first smack on your ass was startling, hard enough to warm you, heat blooming over the curve of you keened, eyes slipping shut and into that fuzzy space only Eddie seemed to be able to bring you to. Your head fell forward, resting on the cushion and you sighed, his name a whisper that you hoped he didn’t hear. 
“C’mon, baby,” you could hear the grin in his voice and he slapped your other ass cheek, making the fat there bounce. “Make it pretty for me, hm?”
You knew what he wanted and you obeyed, too far gone from the feel of your own fingers, the emptiness that was left after Eddie stopped you from coming. You sucked in a breath and pushed your ass out further, back arched real pretty, your cheek squished to the back cushion. Eddie stood behind you, godlike, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock free. He stroked it, rough and he get handed, the way you’d learned to touch him, eager, thick fingers pulling at the head until it turned pinker and pinker. 
“Tell me you want it.”
“No.” Your voice sounded small, wavering. 
You sounded like you were lying. 
Eddie laughed. “Still wanna play? Fine.”
Two hands palmed at your ass, skin warm and rings cool, the silver catching at your skin as he squeezed, pulling at your cheeks until they spread obscenely and Eddie groaned. He used his thumb to hook into your thong, pulling what little material there was away from your skin until he got to look at all of you. 
Spread all pretty, slick and wet and shining. A line of spit hit your ass, sliding warm to cool over your puckered hole until it trickled down, seeping into the seam of your cunt and you dripped with him. Fuck. 
Fuck. Fuck it. It’s fine. 
It’s fine. 
Eddie hummed, enjoying the view, enjoying himself, enjoying you. His thumb brushed over your, making you jump in surprise, his soft laughter leaving you burning until you felt the head of his cock line up with your cunt, spreading your folds around his tip. He pushed, just slightly, enough for you to feel the beginning of the stretch and you whined, arching back more, eager. Desperate. 
“Say you want my cock.”
No niceties, no pet names. No affection. Just a power play. Eddie didn’t want a relationship. He wanted to win. 
“No.”
Another laugh, proud and amused and your stubbornness earned your another swift smack and this time you let the boy’s name fall from your lips a little louder. Eddie swore, moaning with you because his name coming from the back of your throat sounded like sex, like victory. So he tried again, a little sweeter. 
“C’mon, baby,” he cooed. He tugged at his cock, let it slide against the dean of you until he was as slick as you were. “Feels good, don’t it? You wanna feel me deep? You wanna feel me here, honey?” He let his hand tuck around you, palming over your tummy and you whined, nodding. 
Game over. 
Fuck it, it’s fine. It’s really fine. 
“Please,” you murmured, voice hoarse, head hazy. “Please, Teddy.”
And just like that, the playing field was evened out. The nickname made the boy crumble, a gasping, groaning sound tumbling from his mouth and he melted over you, his chest to your back, cock sliding in, a tight, hot wet stretch and suddenly you were full. 
You cried out, eyes snapping shut, jaw loose and head falling forward. Eddie caught you, one hand on your hip and the other sinking into your hair as he tugged you back up, a little mean, a little rough. But he brought your face to his, cheek to cheek as he cooed, murmuring pretty things about his pretty girl and it was all too much. 
It felt like the beginning. 
“Look at you, fuck,” he sounded gone, words stuttering out of him with every hard thrust and his hands were bruising, palming at your hips, your tummy, skating over the column of your throat until every part of you felt heated. “Who’s pussy is this? Huh? She’s fuckin’ made for me, sweetheart, so tight she doesn’t wanna let me go.”
His words made you come, like they always did, hot and filthy and possessive and murmured low in your ear. And then Eddie came too, hips jerking, groaning wild, curls falling down his back as he tipped his head and emptied himself inside of you. He liked to sweep his fingers through your folds after it, feeling himself dripping hot and slick out of your cunt. 
And then when you collected your clothes from the living room floor, Eddie was sitting shirtless on his couch as you dressed yourself, already rolling another joint. The lighter flickered, a blue-orange in the night they seemed so much darker and colder now Eddie had moved away from you. 
He hadn’t kissed you once, you realised, your lips lonely. He had blue glitter on his cheek, galactic freckles that matched yours. He was still dripping down the inside of your thighs when he raised his cell and asked you:
“D’you want me to call you a cab?” 
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bookofthegear · 7 months
Text
You head north, because…because you feel like it, that’s why. The corridor is what you are coming to think of as Labyrinth Standard Concrete. You reach a doorway on your left and it continues on.
Looking through the doorway, you see a room so tall that the ceiling is lost in shadow. In the center is an absolutely amazing spiral staircase. It is the sort of staircase that Art Nouveau sculptors dream about when they have been hitting the absinthe a little too hard.
For one thing, each step appears to be made of a single piece of ivory, and where they found tusks six feet long and two feet wide, you couldn’t begin to guess. There are round gemstones the size of quail eggs inset into the ivory steps, and rubies the size of chicken eggs studding the central pillar, surrounded by mother-of-pearl settings. The outer railing is more curved ivory carved in a delicate spiral, worked with gold filigree, set with even more gems, and stained a remarkable shade of shell-pink.
The whole thing gives you the impression that the creator had both a limitless budget and absolutely no concept of restraint. It’s…okay, yeah, arguably it’s tasteless, but that’s probably because it’s sitting in a weird little concrete room. It would look fine in a palace. Or the British Museum, once they’d looted said palace.
Given the distinct lack of treasure in this place so far, your gob is pretty thoroughly smacked.
When you finally tear your eyes from the staircase, you see a rickety iron ladder affixed to the wall and what looks like a stone with a plaque on it in front of the first step.
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jeannineee · 10 months
Text
Intertwined (Ⅱ)
Batboys x Reader
a/n: part two is heeeeere!! Hope you guys enjoy!! Part one can be found in my masterlist. This was quickly proofread, sorry for any errors.
Side note: my requests are still open, I have 2 smut fics in the works for Azriel. Working on part 3!!
PART THREE
warnings: canon-typical shit, misogynistic Illyrians, sexual suggestiveness
You gawked like a fish at the three men in front of you, where you still stood in Rhys’s foyer.
That…feeling had subsided slightly. But it was still there. A pulling sensation, in your chest.
No, deeper than that. In your soul. In your very being.
You didn’t dare consider what it was. Couldn’t bring yourself to—
“Y/n?” Azriel called to you, brows furrowed with worry. Cassian and Rhysand shared the same look on their own faces.
“You checked out, for a minute there,” Cassian said, smiling sheepishly. “Everything okay?”
“Y-Yes.”
Rhysand studied you, as though he were trying to piece together what just happened. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, taking a tentative step towards you.
You inwardly checked your mental shields—not that Rhys would intrude, but you checked anyway.
You stepped back, clearing your throat awkwardly. “I’m fine. ‘M gonna head back to the house. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day, so…”
They knew something was wrong. Did they feel it, too? They didn’t act like it.
“Well, let one of us fly you,” Rhys offered. There was nervousness in his voice, now.
“No,” you said, the word coming out harsher than intended, judging by the way all three of them flinched. “I just mean—I can winnow. I’ll winnow myself.”
You didn’t give them the chance to reply before you followed through, finding yourself back at the House of Wind within seconds. You went straight to your bedroom, ignoring the growling of your stomach as you readied yourself for bed.
You were sure any food you ate would taste like ash in your mouth, anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, you woke early, dressing yourself in fleece-lined Illyrian leathers.
You didn’t dare go downstairs. Not yet.
You sat on the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands as you allowed yourself to ponder on what happened, yesterday. You knew what you felt. Knew what that snap was.
The mating bond.
Or was it? Was it even possible to have three mates? You’d heard stories of two…but three?
An insistent knocking at your door jolted you from your thoughts, sending you to your feet.
“Up and at ‘em, sweetheart!”
Cassian.
You took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from your palms onto your pants, before opening your door.
Cassian stood there, in his leathers, red siphons gleaming. He looked down at you, a lopsided grin plastered to his face. You interrupted him before he could speak.
“The next time you pound on my door, you lose your kneecaps,” you told the general, silently praying to the Mother that he couldn’t hear the way your heart was racing.
“Mean,” Cassian said, daring to dip his head even more. His warm breath tickled your face.
“You haven’t begun to see ‘mean,’ Cas.”
His grin widened. “Gonna show me?”
Your face reddened. Cassian smirked, his body almost flush against yours, now.
“Don’t back out now, sweetheart,” he murmured, tracing a calloused hand down your side. “Show me that attitude again.”
Your leathers were far too tight.
Mor’s voice echoing downstairs snapped you both out of the moment. “Get your sorry asses down here!”
Cassian moved from your doorway, allowing you through. But once you reached the top of the staircase, he grabbed your arm, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. “This isn’t over, y/n.”
Mother save you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saying the Illyrian Steppes were cold was an understatement.
Icy. Frigid. Bone-chilling.
You couldn’t think of a word that would do justice to the way it felt.
The shivering, teeth-chattering cold, despite being in Azriel’s arms as you flew to Windhaven. He was warm. So warm. But even that wasn’t enough against this frozen hellhole.
Azriel’s bridal-style hold on you tightened, his hazel eyes scanning over your form.
“Won’t be much longer,” he said, attempting to sound reassuring. “They’ll have a cabin ready for all of us. A fire, warm food.”
“You’re teasing me,” you replied as you pressed your face against his chest, greedily absorbing his body heat.
Azriel’s voice was calm and quiet as he said, “This isn’t teasing, trust me.”
‘Trust me.’
You tried not to let your mind wander towards the ways the Shadowsinger could really tease you as you descended upon Windhaven.
Rhys landed next, and then Cassian, with Mor in his arms.
Lord Devlon already waited, a couple of Illyrian grunts on either side of him. He didn’t spare you, or Mor a single glance as he acknowledged Rhys.
“We’ll need accommodations,” Rhys said, sounding almost bored.
“Already done,” Devlon replied.
You tried to ignore the way the men around the camp eyed you and Mor, like prized mares. Rhysand caught on, a low growl leaving his throat as he spoke again to Devlon.
“Tell your men that if they value their hands, they won’t touch y/n or Morrigan. If they value their eyes, they won’t look at them for too long, either.”
Devlon looked inclined to protest, but thought better of it as he nodded. “You have my word.”
You doubted his word meant much as your group was escorted to the cabin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mor stole the warm bath first, leaving you, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel to pile around the fireplace.
Those three tethers that snapped into place yesterday roared in their presence. Even more so as Rhys spoke in your mind.
There are other ways to warm up, besides a bath, you know.
So go find an Illyrian woman to warm your bed, you quipped back.
There’s only one woman I want in my bed.
Rhys looked at you pointedly.
Poor baby.
You swore he chuckled faintly in your mind.
“So, are we going to discuss what happened yesterday?” Rhys questioned you aloud.
Cassian and Azriel both perked up at that, waiting for your response.
Shit.
“After the meeting tomorrow,” you finally said. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
Rhys hummed. “Leaving us in suspense, darling?”
“Cope.”
Cassian snickered at that, and even Azriel’s lips twitched up. Rhysand’s violet eyes gave you a painfully-slow once-over, the gesture sending heat pooling between your legs.
“Tomorrow, then.”
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