#ribbon summer dress set

[lichdolly]

Hiromi Saruya x BABY - Ribbon Summer Dress Set

This one-of-a-kind dress and full bonnet-cap by Hiromi Saruya collaborating with BABY, the Stars Shine Bright was never released for commercial sale. It was designed as a stage-costume for the 2002 movie, Kamikaze Girls.

The set is likely lost in circulation, either in the possession of a second-hand vintage shop, prop and costume storage, or private owner.

#baby the stars shine bright #shimotsuma monogatari #btssb #kamikaze girls #egl community #lolita fashion #lifestyle lolita #roomwear #egl #elegant gothic lolita #lolita history #egl history #egl lifestyle #ribbon summer dress set #sample sets #sweet lolita #old school lolita #my post tag

[verbenaa]

air so deep and sweet

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: “You’re just utterly shameless, aren’t you?’ He tsks, “Seducing me away from my work like this.”

Astarion’s eyes rove your form laying beneath him in reverence, the silken strands of your hair spread like a halo around your face and your dress a mess around your waist.

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𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Reader 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut, fluff, slice of life! 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7.1k 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: body worship, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, hand jobs, vampire bites, mentions/discussions of anal, vaginal sex, vampire sex, soft dom astarion

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

𝑎/𝑛: This is my first ever fanfiction despite a literal 20 years of reading them LOL i truly have lost the plot. Find me on ao3 too, my username is leadii 💕

ao3 here

masterlist

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Dim candlelight plays along the walls of Astarion’s studio, illuminating the discarded bolts of fabric leaning against the wall with haphazard grace, the threads of linens, silks, and cottons a riot of color against the muted walls. Spools of silken thread and tangles of ribbon lay sprawling across the work table, interspersed with pincushions and stray needles waiting to be threaded.

The studio itself is small, humble in its nature. Set aside on a small street within the city walls it wasn’t a far walk from your shared home, making it an easy decision to join him on the nights he decided to work.

Lush velvet draperies hang heavily across several leaded windows, while multicolored rugs layered themselves over the floor. Fat pillars of candle wax sit haphazardly upon several surfaces, filling the room with moving pockets of light, their dance helped along by the light summer breeze blowing through the open windows. It was undeniably one of your favorite places to be.

Despite Astarion’s initial claims to the contrary (if you could even call his half-hearted condescension to the concept such a thing), he was decidedly well suited for a life of domesticity. Much like a spoiled cat, he very much enjoyed his luxuries. Vials of scented oils, a soft bed covered with blankets and quilts, piles of books in the corners of rooms waiting to be read at his decision. You were very quick to learn that Astarion was nothing if not a creature of comfort. And he made it so very easy to spoil him, accepting your love and affection with open arms.

You nestle deeper into the nest of pillows that made up the corner you had decided to call your own, novel discarded beside you and your goblet of wine long emptied of its contents resting against the floorboards. With a small huff your attention turns from your surroundings to said owner of the studio, watching him weave the needle in and out of the fabric in his hands, focus intent on his art.

He had such beautiful hands, you couldn’t help but think. Hands as well-versed in sowing chaos as easily as they could thread a needle to create the tiniest of embellishments upon a single piece of silk. Hands as intimately versed in the art of death as they were in the art of drawing pleasure. Sometimes, you think, he is secretly desperate to prove that his hands no longer have to steal, cheat, or seduce for others and instead were capable to creating something soft and vulnerable for himself instead.

With a small stretch you sit yourself upright, adjusting the lovingly embroidered straps of the light linen dress you wore to compensate for the overbearing warmth of summer. You were always content to accept any creation Astarion made for you and your dress was no exception, tailored to perfection to sit on your curves perfectly with small decorations of lace and embroidery as he saw fit.

As though drawn by your thoughts, his carmine gaze glances up to meet your own. Astarion’s eyes linger upon your form as you slowly stand and stretch your arms high above your head, back arching slightly with the motion before you step to the nearest open window. A light breeze ruffles your hair as you rest your elbows on the sill, careful of the several plants currently residing there as your eyes move to watch the people below weave through the streets in the darkness.

“Dearest, do you mind lending me those ever-so-lovely eyes of yours for a moment?” His voice is a casual drawl. “I wish to seek your opinion on this particular color scheme.” 

You turn to face him from your spot at the window as he gestures to the work in his hand with a small movement of his wrist, and quickly step across the floor to stop at his side. You glance down to see the wooden embroidery hoop he holds with measured regard in one hand, the other carefully grasping a small, sharp needle. You lean in slightly to see better, your breasts adding the barest of pressure against his arm.

You focus your vision upon the delicate pattern of his needlework, the threads weaving together to create an intricate pattern of scrolling vines and abundant spring blossoms in a warm milky white adorning the collar of a cream colored linen shirt, the colors almost ethereal together in their similarity. 

“I hate to break this to you, but…I do believe it is simply cream upon cream,” you say with a small smile gracing your lips. “What ever is there for me to even give my opinion on?” 

“It’s called monochrome, my dear.” Astarion gives you a look of affectionate exasperation before continuing, “Despite what everyone seems to think, I am capable of subtlety when the occasion permits.” You briefly turn to look at him, an elegant eyebrow arching in amusement. 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs slightly before murmuring, “Certainly those pretty eyes of yours can see the differences despite the similarity of color?”

Sure enough, upon further inspection you could pick out the slightest hint of metallic gold threaded throughout the creamy colored delicate flowers and surrounding vines, the only detail differentiating the colors from one another. The subtle shine of the golden threads were mesmerizing to follow with your eyes, the candlelight bouncing off of them creating fiery highlights on the raised embroidery. Like everything Astarion touched, it was undeniably beautiful.

“I suppose it looks decent.” You tease, pressing your chest further into his arm while your attention shifts to the elegant planes of his face. He was simply so easy to admire, the way his hair always seemed to fall so perfectly into place, his mouth held soft in concentration looked so inviting.

A noise of protest leaves his lips at the mere thought his creation was only ‘decent’, and you can’t help but laugh at the reaction while leaning in to press a soft kiss to his pale cheek.

“It must be so hard to have such artistic merit, Astarion. I’m afraid such a talentless individual as myself can’t fully appreciate such craft and workmanship.” You playfully lean your body back and throw a hand up your forehead in mock distress, earning a short laugh from him. 

“Despite such questionable opinions, you are far my talentless, my dear.” Astarion sets aside the hoop and needle to the far edge of the worktable and turns in his chair, settling his full attention on you.

“In fact, I would be more than willing to remind you of the several of the talents you possess.”

Slowly, he draws his eyes from your features to glance down at the twin pinprick scars decorating your neck before slowly continuing lower to finally rest on a spot above your breasts. He brings his fingertips to brush lightly against the skin, pressing against the delicate lace trim of the neckline, sweeping slowly and softly back and forth against the swells. He watches the sudden intake of your breath with interest before his eyes glide up to meet your own again. 

A slow, feline smile graces his lips. “Such a distraction, dearest. Especially when you press these lovely breasts of yours into me.” 

You match his smile with a sly one of your own.

“Can you blame me?” You give a half-hearted shrug, hardly caring that you had been caught in your so-called crime. “It’s quite hard to not want to be close to such a beautiful individual like yourself.”

“Ah yes, there it is. Talent number one: flattery.” 

He moves the hand tracing patterns against your skin upward, glancing touches against your neck, before curling his fingers underneath your chin to bring your face closer to his own. 

You knew he could easily see the effects of his relatively innocent ministrations, could view the inevitable pink beginning to decorate your cheeks. 

Could smell it in the blood beginning to race through your veins. 

Astarion had always known exactly what to say made you breathless and had never held back on using that knowledge to his advantage to make you weak to his whims. 

“Now be a good girl and take a seat.” His voice is low, hungry; he leans forward and both his hands find your waist and pull. 

You feel your body relax easily into his touch, letting him smooth your skirts out of the way as he brings you towards his waiting lap. Your hips instantly connect together, fabric the only barrier between you. You feel a telltale twitch beneath you, signaling his pleasure at the slight friction created by the connection and your hips grind against his own instinctually, the friction and pressure adding to the growing warmth deep in your belly. 

Astarion leans forward, connecting his mouth with your own in a scalding kiss, moaning into your mouth as his hips roll against your own, his growing erection pressing closer to your covered center. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself even closer to him as your hands card through the silver curls sitting at the back of his neck. Opening your mouth, you lick against his lips hoping he will open them for you. Astarion obliges, meeting your tongue halfway. 

Your tongue brushes against a sensitive fang, drawing another moan out of him and he slowly pulls away from the kiss, lightly nipping at your bottom lip as he leaves before moving to press small, sweet kisses across your jaw. 

“Would you indulge me a snack, dearest?” He presses a quick kiss followed by a small lick to the skin behind your ear, sending a shiver of pleasure down your skin.

“I suppose I could be convinced…” Breathy sighs fall from your lips as he peppers kisses down the elegant column of your neck. “Quite easily perhaps, too.”

“Will you give me a small taste, my dear?” he mouths the words against your skin, lips hot.

Your eyes fall closed at his kisses. “You know you don’t even have to ask to have my blood. I give it to you, freely, and I always will.” With a tilt of your head you grant him more access to continue his search.

“I don’t deserve you.” “Absolutely false. You deserve everything.” The words roll off your tongue with quick ease, certain you’ve never spoken truer words.

As Astarion moves the straps of your dress aside to hang off your shoulders and free the expanse of your neck and collar he finds the spot he had been looking for, laving the area with his tongue briefly before he bites down.

A split second of burning heat as his fangs dig into the flesh of your neck with as much delicacy as he can manage before he finally begins to suck, the pull of the blood leaving your body as he drinks brings a decidedly indecent moan to your lips, the heat of your core growing wetter with every draw of his mouth.

As Astarion drinks in your lifeblood in slow gulps, you feel his hands moving to the neckline of your dress and he grabs at it, pulling the fabric down across your chest, exposing more and more of you with every pull of the fabric. You had forgone a corset today in an attempt at comfort in an unending battle against humidity, trusting the bodice of your dress to instead keep your (somewhat questionable) modesty in tact. 

The rush of cold air combined with the sudden brush of his chilled hands against your breasts as he lets the dress fall to hang freely around your waist draws a surprised gasp from your lips. You move your arms out of the straps before burying them again in his silver locks.

He quickly brings a free hand up to grasp a breast, brushing his thumb over a newly hardened nipple. Extricating his fangs from your neck, his tongue moves to lick up the blood tracing down from the wound, not letting a single drop go to waste.  

“Such a delightful little treat,” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing with every movement as your hips grind downward against his growing erection in slow rolls. 

His lips move further down your chest, no longer following the trail of fresh blood but that of the blood in your veins leading to your heart. 

Astarion presses a chaste kiss over the place where your heart beats, your back arching with the movement of his lips as he moves lower to capture a hardened peak. A soft cry at the touch of his mouth falls from your lips, the motion of his tongue drawing circles around the bud sending a flash of heat straight to your core. 

He laves at the bud, alternating licks and soft bites in a bid to stoke the fire inside you even higher, his free hand coming up to massage its twin with delicate motions.

Astarion cants his hips up into yours as he sucks hard at your breast, his prominent erection pressing into your growing wetness before his mouth moves to your other breast, continuing his ministrations.

“Astarion, please, I need more.” You whine, attempting to press harder against his erection in hopes the touch will grant a reprieve from the building heat between your thighs.

“As you wish, my love.” He grants your request with a whisper, his hands falling on your thighs to support you as he moves to stand, bringing you with him. Chair pushing back with the movement, he places you on the desk in front of him as his hips spread your thighs. 

Desperate to keep the connection between the two of your bodies, Astarion stands between your legs, pressing close. His hands skate up your body to land on your cheeks, tilting your face to look up at his own as a thumb brushes absentmindedly against your bottom lip. He leans down to press his lips to your forehead, your eyes, cheeks, nose, and finally your lips. 

“Lay back, love,” His words are a whisper as one hand makes it way from your cheek to rest on the back of your head. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

His eyes never leave your own as your body relaxes, trusting him, and he leans you back onto the tabletop with care until your body meets the wood. 

Barely breathing, you watch as his hands made their way teasingly downwards, skating over your bared breasts to find the skirt of your dress, moving to push the thin fabric tantalizingly up your thighs to settle around your waist and out of the way. Astarion’s eyes settle upon a tiny, lacy pair of panties, the fabric the only thing keeping you from being completely bared to him. 

“You’re just utterly shameless, aren’t you?’ He tsks, “Seducing me away from my work like this.” Astarion’s eyes rove your form laying beneath him in reverence, the silken strands of your hair spread like a halo around your face and your dress a mess around your waist.

He was so beautiful it made your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

With bated breath, you raise a hand to draw your fingers softly over his cheek, capturing his attention. 

“Promise me that you will tell me if this gets to be too much for you,” Your eyes meet his as you watch his expression fill with sudden affection at your request. 

“What a sweet thing you are,” Astarion brings a hand to cover the one you had placed over his cheek. “Thank you for always taking care of me so.” With a small movement, he turns his head to bring his lips to press against your palm. 

“I promise you that anything and everything I do with you is my choice.” Astarion moves the hand that covers yours to flit down your body, teasing touches over your peaked nipples, down your belly, before brushing against the line of your underwear. A sudden intake of breath escapes your lungs as he watches your stomach jump with the touch. 

A smirk graces his face as he moves those same fingers lower, brushing lightly against the gusset of your underwear before pressing harder against the growing damp of the lace. His touch creates a sweet friction, your wetness mixed with the texture of the lace and the pressure of his fingers drawing a soft moan from you.

You whine as his fingers pull your underwear to the side, Astarion moving to slide his fingertips up and down your exposed slit, spreading your wetness. He makes teasing passes around the small pearl that rests above; close but never quite touching where you need him, your arousal aiding the smooth glide of his motions.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet for me, darling?”

“You know I always aim to please.”  The words are hard won but you manage to  give him a haughty smile nonetheless, trying to maintain the last shred of willpower you have left to pretend to be unaffected.

He moves to pump a finger shallowly inside you, not nearly deep enough to provide any relief. You gasp at feeling, attempting to roll your hips in hopes to bring his finger deeper. But just as quickly as he enters he leaves, eliciting a noise of frustration from you.

“Patience, patience.” He tuts, hands moving to your hips to tug at the lace resting over them. He yanks at the fabric, and you raise you bottom to aid him in finally removing them. Astarion pockets the pair with a smug look as his hands move to spread your thighs further apart.

With every push of your thighs Astarion bares you to him, your arousal glistening against your center in the low light.

“You know, dearest, I think I would maybe like to have a taste of something else as well.” You feel your cunt clench at the prospect, adding to the building heat deep inside you. 

“Consider me at your mercy, then.” A smirk from him at your blessing as he slowly lowers himself to his knees before your spread legs.

Astarion is supplicant before you as he rests his head on your upper thigh, unfairly close to where you want him most. Your hips jump in anticipation as he begins pressing tantalizingly soft kisses into the crease where your hip meets your thigh.

You feel his fingers touch you finally, delicately spreading your folds as he watches your most intimate place open for him. His thumb comes to rest against your clit, rubbing lightly at the small bud and you release a contented hum at the warmth of the pleasure inside your body growing with the movement of his fingers.

Your eyes fall shut at the sheer relief of his attention, his expertise in knowing exactly how and where to touch to drive you wild drawing a moan from you. Your hand falls from its place in his hair to land beside your head, jostling errant sewing supplies from their resting place next to you.

“Careful, darling. Watch those lovely hands of yours to not catch on a needle. I would so hate for you to bleed so needlessly.” A roguish smile alights his lips as he lowers his mouth to lick a slow stripe up your center, intent to collect as much of your wetness on his tongue as he can.

Your hand immediately finds its way back to his hair, gripping his silver curls mindlessly as he begins to work his tongue up and down your center, tracing patterns against your sex as he goes.

His tongue moves to finally circle your clit with small movements, intent to drive your pleasure higher and higher with every pass. His mouth moves lower, licking across your folds as he finds your entrance, tracing around it with agonizingly slow motions.

Astarion is quick to move a hand to rest over your belly as your hips jut up, applying soft pressure as he grows bold in his motions and his tongue moves to push inside of you. Your grip on his curls grows harder with every thrust of his tongue inside your body, head thrown back and moans growing louder as he brings you closer and closer to completion.

The hand resting on your stomach moves to press lightly at your clit, once again resuming the small circles round and around as his tongue continues its exploration deep in your core, eating you out with fervor. 

Astarion continues to lave inside you, his soft tongue whorling against your walls as his fingers expertly work your clit in tandem with your cries as your hips ride his face, thighs shaking as your orgasm barrels towards you. 

And it’s just like that when you cry out and finally come, his tongue moving deep inside as his finger strums your clit with practiced motions and the feeling is white-hot as you plunge into your ecstasy. He licks up your come greedily, tongue never stopping its endeavor as you ride the wave of your orgasm, breathy cries leaving your lips and hips rolling until your body finally relaxes. 

Shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, your hand falls from Astarion’s hair to rest over your eyes as your breathing begins to even out and you finally come down from the high, Astarion cleaning up your cum until you can take it no longer, hips jerking in overstimulation away from his mouth.

Astarion places a light kiss over your clit before raising up from his knees back to his full height, your slick glistening on his chin and lips in the light of the candles as his still clothed cock brushes against your empty center.

Astarion leans forward, arms caging your head as he leans down to nuzzle your cheek whispering ardent words, “Out of all the beautiful things in this room, you are by far the most gorgeous.”

His admission momentarily stuns you. Astarion had never been shy in his admirations of your beauty and while you had grown more used to them during your time together he still managed to catch you off guard with such compliments from time to time.

“Can I please touch you? Taste you?” You pant, desperation coloring your words in the wake of his earlier admission as you begin to push yourself up onto your elbows. Astarion’s hand comes down and gently presses on your chest instead, and you lower yourself back down at the gentle command in the gleaming red of his eyes. 

“You can put that clever mouth of yours to use later, my dear. I have other plans for you, I think.” His eye rove your features before pressing his mouth upon yours in a fevered kiss, his tongue licking against your lips asking for entry. You can taste the essence of yourself on his lips and groan at the taste, opening yours to tangle his tongue with your own.

Astarion deepens the kiss as his hands find your own and grasping them gently, he brings them down his body to rest upon his still-clothed cock. 

“You said you wanted to touch. Indulge me, lover.” His lips never leave your own as he speaks the words, tongue sneaking out to lick at your bottom lip.

Your hands spring to action immediately to palm his cock through his leather pants before you find the laces holding him and undo them with deft fingers familiar with the task.

Astarion’s thick cock springs free of the confines of the pants and your fingers find the beads of precum decorating the tip and spread the wetness down his length. your fingers glide from top to bottom in smooth motions over the veined velvet of him, his essence aiding your ministrations as his mouth falls open from the sheer indulgence of your touch. His head falls heavily onto your shoulder and his lips move over the spot he fed from earlier, kissing and licking the area as your hands work him closer to closer to the edge. 

Lifting a hand from him you bring your fingers to your own wetness, drawing your fingertips through your slick before pumping two of them inside yourself in an imitation of his own motions earlier as you moan at the feeling.

Astarion glances down to see your fingers buried in your own cunt, the sight making him go impossibly harder as he watches you briefly pleasure the both of you. With a whine, your fingers leave your body to return to Astarion, a mixture of your arousal and come coating your fingers as your spread it onto his waiting cock, increasing your rhythm to rub him faster.

“Gods Above, you really are something else.” His pupils are blown out in lust as he groans at both the sight and feel of your hands working his shaft, one hand massaging the crown of his cock while the other works him closer to the base in quick motions.

A wicked thought strikes your mind, and you almost feel badly for even entertaining the idea. Almost.

You can feel his breath fanning your neck with every pass of your hands, his moans growing more unrestrained as your ministrations draw him to edge of completion. Without warning you withdraw your hands from his weeping cock, cruelly denying him the climax he was so close to.

Astarion’s head flies up from where it rests on your shoulder as a noise of disbelief leaves his lips and he shoots you a look of pure shock. The knowledge you caught him so unaware has you riding another kind of high, one you rarely had the privilege of reveling in.

“You little minx! Who knew you were capable of such cruelty. You’re going to pay for that, you know.”

Mischief settles on your features. “Maybe that was the goal.”

“Ask and you shall receive, little love. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” His lips curve with a devilish grin, eyes glinting in the candlelight as his hands move to grip your waist, fingertips pressing hard into the soft skin.

“How should I make you pay for it, then?” He muses. “Should I shove my cock into that tight, sweet cunt of yours and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand? Or maybe I should make good use of that wicked little mouth of yours and fill it instead?”

His darkening eyes bore into your own, your cheeks heating at his suggestions as you shift under his contemplation.

“You do look quite beautiful like that, you know. Mouth stretched around me as I fuck your throat. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You give an enthusiastic nod at the prospect, excited for whatever punishment he deems appropriate to hand out.

Without warning, you feel the hands upon your waist move to lift you up and flip you over, your stomach making contact with the table as your bare breasts press tight against the wood grain. His hand comes to rest in the center of your back, pushing you further into the surface. You move your head to rest your cheek upon the table, the coolness of the wood a welcome sensation to the quickly rebuilding heat inside you as your eyes glance up to meet his own in curiosity. 

“Too bad. I have another idea instead.” His voice is deep with promise.

Such trouble you had gotten yourself into, it seems. 

Cool hands move from your back to the forgotten skirt of your dress to flip it upward to rest around your waist once more, exposing your ass and glistening center to the warm air. 

Astarion brings his hand down hard against one of your cheeks, the sharpness of the spank making you cry out as surprise and pleasure mingle into one. He rubs the growing red mark left on your skin before bending down to press a his lips to it, soothing the area with barely-there kisses. 

He brings both hands to your ass now, rubbing soothing circles over the area before moving to pull your rear cheeks apart, allowing Astarion to see absolutely everything.

A wave of embarrassment hits you to be put on such display for his vision despite his knowledge of your body, and you fidget slightly under his intent gaze of your most intimate areas. 

“Astarion…” you let out a moan and he is quick to shush you as he moves a hand off your asscheek to brush his thumb in light circles over your asshole. 

“Maybe I should take you here instead, I know how much you love when I play with your pretty ass.” His voice is deep, eyes impossibly dark. 

“Oh fuck,” His words draw a ragged moan from your lips at the mere thought, setting your neglected pussy on fire with need.

“Prove to me you can be a good girl.” His thumb applies soft pressure before it leaves you to be replaced by his lips. He presses a soft kiss to the tight hole before kissing downwards and licking deep into your cunt without warning, lapping at your waiting wetness.

“Gods, Astarion…” your hips press backwards towards his waiting mouth. “Whatever you want, wherever you want, my love. I’ll do anything. I just want you inside of me.” Your voice is hoarse with need, no longer caring to win this little game you had started.

You feel Astarion’s mouth leave your pussy and whine at the loss, but he is quick replace your empty cunt with two of his elegant fingers instead, sliding them in and out at slow, measured pace. 

“Do you think I should let you come one more time before I fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk properly?” You are helpless to do anything other than nod your head in insistence, hoping he won’t rob you of your orgasm the way you had done to him. “I don’t know if you deserve it yet.”

Astarion slowly pulls his fingers out of your body only to add a third finger on the plunge back in, drawing a cry from your lips at the sudden fullness. 

His fingers push deep and curl inside of you pressing against that special spot over and over again, driving you to new heights as the lightest veil of tears begins to dust your lashes at the sheer bliss of the feeling.

Noticing the tears, you feel Astarion immediately stop his ministrations and lean over your back to look into your eyes with concern, a noise of protest at the lack of motion falls from your mouth as his fingers slowly leave your body to rest on your hip, brushing calming circles on your skin.

“Is this too much, love?” Any trace of his teasing dominance is gone from his voice as he speaks the words to you clearly, looking intently for any indication you needed him to step back from the scene the two of you had created. “We can stop, darling, if you need to. I don’t want you to push yourself too far to please me.”

You smile at genuine concern evident on his face, blinking away the sheen of tears. 

Pushing your hips back into him with as much motion as you can manage in your prone position against the table, you lean your body up in hopes to press a kiss to his lips. Astarion leans in, mouth quick to meet you halfway in a kiss as his spare hand moves to cup your cheek.

“The only thing you are pushing is my patience, love. Please don’t stop.” You beg, hoping he will acquiesce to your desire to continue as you lower your body back down onto the table. “The only thing I want in this moment is to come so hard I can’t think straight and then to have that beautiful cock of yours inside of me in whatever way you wish to give it to me.”

“Insatiable. Who taught you such language?” His body follows yours down, back pressing against your own as his lips brush against yours as he speaks the words, the concern leaving his eyes replaced with mounting desire.

“Believe me, there is nothing I want more than to be buried deep inside you,” The hand on your hip makes its way back towards your center. “Make me the same promise I made you earlier.”

The words come to your mouth effortlessly.

“I promise you that anything and everything I do with you is my choice.” You recite the words softly, with ease. 

Quieter now, you whisper. “I trust you, Astarion.”

You know how much your words and trust mean to him, can see it in his unguarded expression. Astarion didn’t put much trust in the Gods, but he would never stop thanking whichever one it was that brought your paths together. His fingers gently graze your pussy, ringing around your entrance with soft, teasing touches.

“I love you.” Astarion says before pressing his lips firmly to your own, those same three fingers finally slipping back inside.

Astarion renews the pace of his fingers right away, pressing and curling with precise motions meant to bring you to the brink.

You give into the sensation of every movement of his fingers, mouth open and eyes falling shut at the feeling and it’s not long before he has you once again close to your orgasm. 

“Please, don’t stop,” you whimper as your thighs begin to shake.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Astarion brings his other hand down your body to brush lightly against your clit. He sounds as lost in desire as you feel. “Want to feel you come on my hand. Can you do that for me, sweet thing?”

His words have you clenching hard on his fingers, the pressure of them against your insides combined with the fingers of his other hand brushing light, concentric circles over your clit have you coming within moments of his request.

“Such a good girl to give me what I want so easily.” You barely hear the words that fall from his lips through the haze of your ongoing orgasm, the feeling of his breath on the skin of your ear serving to only enhancing the moment.

Your body spasms around his fingers and cries of ecstasy fall from your lips as he continues, working you through your orgasm while his lips press soothing kisses anywhere his lips can reach—your face, your neck, the tip of your ear. 

“That’s it. You always look so beautiful when you come for me.”

Slowly, finally you feel your body begin to relax through the haze of your orgasm. Your mind comes back to you and you release a small laugh as your breath starts to even out, feeling him leave your body. Without breaking eye contact, he brings the fingers that had filled you so deeply to his mouth and licks them clean. The sight of it sends a wave of heat right back to your cunt, a shudder of anticipation running through you.

“I think you already succeeded in your wish to make me unable to stand.” You pant.

“And to think I haven’t even fucked you yet.” His cock is hard as his eyes scan your form from the flesh of your core to the flush of your cheeks, your eyes glassy with a haze of lust.

“I think I want to fuck you just like this.” He whispers into your ear as his hands run soothingly over your back. “I like you this, on display as you wait for me.” You desperately attempt to push your hips back to brush against his uncovered cock, looking for any bit of friction.

You watch him from your place on the table, the lithe way his body moves as he takes off his luxurious silk shirt to expose his chest.

His beauty was almost otherworldly as the dancing candlelight illuminates the carved marble of his skin, light and shadow creating a moving chiaroscuro upon the planes of his body.

He looked like a god.

“You are so beautiful.” Your words are a mere whisper as he moves his thick cock to finally brush against your center, slicking himself in your spend as the tip catches against your clit, drawing twin moans from you both.

Grabbing your hips, Astarion positions himself at your entrance and begins to slowly push inside, so familiar with your body he barely needs to guide his cock.

His head drops to press a kiss to your shoulder before righting himself again, hissing in pleasure at the feeling of your walls closing around him as he slides in, your wetness aiding him as he bottoms out and his hips press hard against your own. 

Low moans escape you at the sheer feeling of his cock stretching and sliding home and your hands move grasp for purchase on the desk as he slowly begins to rock back and forth. 

“If only you could see yourself now,” His voice is deep as he watches himself pull his cock out of your body almost completely, only the head left resting shallowly inside you before pushing forward with a hard thrust, hitting a place so deep you let out a ragged cry at the feeling.

“Gods, Astarion, just like that.” He fucks you hard, the force of his thrusts pushing you back and forth with small motions, breasts pressing hard against the wood of the table as one of your hands finds his own still holding your hips. You grab at his wrist in hopes he will take it, needing to touch more of him. Sensing your need Astarion takes your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it before resting your joined hands on your lower back. 

“No one takes my cock like you,” He pants through his thrusting. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” 

Supplications fall from his lips as he moves in and out of your body, showering you with worship as if you were his own private deity. His words further kindle the rising flame inside your belly, every touch of his cock against your walls serving to push you closer and closer to your third orgasm. 

“Only you,” you pant, hips canting back into his own to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “No one else.”

You feel so incredibly full with your body positioned like this, every movement of his cock has him pressing hard against your sweet spot, the feeling like heaven as cries fall from your lips.

“I love how wet you get for me, darling,” Astarion can feel you tighten around him as you grow nearer to your orgasm, your body trembling and cunt pulsing with pleasure as your hips drive back into his own. The feeling of you so close to your orgasm has hips losing their rhythm, his eagerness at the two of you reaching your end together driving him to move harder with every press inside you.

You love seeing him, feeling him like this. His hips finally moving with wild abandon, chasing pure instinct as he moves fast and deep inside your body. A hand comes up to settle in your unbound hair, softly gripping the silk-like strands in his fingers and in his passion he pulls softly, the motion lifting your head. His lips lower to your ear as his back presses fully against your own, the feeling of his cock moving even deeper inside you unmatched. Between his chest against your back and his cock moving so deep he was practically rutting inside, you were almost certain your cunt had never felt so full. Breathless whimpers escape your mouth at the feeling, eyes closing in complete ecstasy as the sound of his own moans against your ear leaves your cunt clenching hard as he hits your g-spot over and over again with each deep thrust.

“Beg for it. Beg for me to let you cum.”

And beg you do.

“Please, Astarion!” A chorus of pleas rise from your throat voicing your desperation as his tongue licks the shell of your ear, the hand in your hair tightening slightly with every word and moan that falls from your lips. 

You can barely think as you feel your orgasm careen towards you, unintelligible in your words as you lose yourself in the feeling of your bodies. Astarion’s cock hits that deep inside spot at your front wall once more, and you finally let go, orgasm taking over your body, stars behind your eyes in all-consuming pleasure. You recognize Astarion nearing his own end, his hips rutting into yours as you ride out your orgasm on his cock, cunt squeezing him in a vice. He comes with a drawn-out moan as he paints your insides with his cum, hips shuttering until his thrusts slow down.

Astarion stays inside you, cock softening as he rubs his hands up and down your sides as you both come down from your high, his cold cheek pressed against your shoulder. With deep breaths you take air so heavy and sweet with your shared lust into your lungs, the weight of Astarion on your back an anchor to the world.

With one final pump Astarion pulls himself from your body, watching as your empty cunt weeps with a mixture of his and your own cum. Before he can stop himself, he reaches two fingers up to catch the cum on his fingertips, gently pushing it back inside you before it can fall out onto the table resting below your hips. 

“Wouldn’t want you to waste a single drop, my love.”

You whine and buck your hips, overstimulated after coming so many times in a row. With one last press of his fingers, he leaves your cunt, leaning forward to place a kiss on the small of your back.

Astarion grabs a discarded piece of silk off the table beside your head and he gently wipes at the mess that threatens to leave your body before cleaning his own spent cock. As your breathing returns to its normal pace, you push yourself up slightly. 

“Silk. Really, Astarion?”

“Only the best for you, my love.” Astarion is quick to help you off the table, steadying you as you sway slightly after being in the same position for so long. He presses a kiss to your lips as he helps pull your dress back up over your breasts and into place. 

“I would ask if I was too rough, but I know you better than that.” His remark makes you laugh as you lean into him, throwing your arms around his neck with a wide smile.

“You know, I think I’m missing a tiny piece of my clothing,” Your eyebrows raise as you gesture to his pocket where a tiny piece of darkened lace sticks out from. "You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, would you?”

“Why bother?” Astarion gives a casual shrug as he waves off your query. “I’m just going to take them off of you again when we get home.” 

He stuffs the underwear in question deeper into his pocket, patting it securely before flashing you a crafty smile.

“After all, I haven’t even had my dinner yet.” He leans in, setting your heart aflame with a passionate kiss before grabbing your hand to lead you out the door and into the waiting night.

#i have lost my mind and i have no regrets #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #my writing

[inlovewithregencyera]

My Fair Lady: Late Baroque Era Set

(no fancy thumbnail this time, sorry) ♫ < baroque music

Please READ ALL OF THIS before downloading. I will not answer an ask if it was answered here. Read.

This is a late 17th-century/early 18th-century Baroque Set. You will get 25 items for women, girls, and toddlers! Towards the bottom, I will give you tips to start a Baroque Era Save (people to find on gallery and men/boy attire).

I would like to thank @the-melancholy-maiden @linzlu @sychik @batsfromwesteros @vintagesimstress @cringeborg @acanthus-sims @stereo-91 and sims 2 creator maya40 for the stuff I've used to make all of this. I'm sure there are more creators but I cannot recall their names off the top of my head. DM me if you see a piece of your mesh here so I can give proper credit. I would also like to thank @belleophile for testing these items for me.

The stuff in this set can work for the late 1660s-early 1710s.

WHAT YOU GET: You will get 3 hat hairs, 1 for each age I listed above, 2 Fontanges for adults that work with the hat slider mod, 4 adult hairs, an adult baroque hair comb piece, 1 adult baroque sash accessory used for court and portraits, 1 ribbon hair piece to go with a hair, and 13 dresses (2 1670s/1660s mantuas, 1 1680s-1710s Habit used for Hunting or Riding, 1 1690s-1710s court dress used for court occasions, 1 1690s-1710s jeweled portrait dress and 1 1660s-1670s portrait dress with sash, and finally 7 1690s-1710s mantuas used for everyday, formal, and seasonal wear. I've included 1 dress for a child and 1 dress for a toddler as well).

SMALL NOTICE ABOUT THE PIECES: The hairline on the hairs will not behave correctly if you have head shape presets on the sim. I've tried fixing that but no luck. If I manage to fix it, I will update it. The Hat Hairs are found in the HAT category and are not compatible with hairs you MUST download the hair files that I'll be including with them. This being said, if you remove sim clothing while they have the hat hair on, it removes the hair override too. It's strange, but just put the hat back on and it should fix. The comb, and ribbon accessory are also found in the hat category. The Sash is found in the GLASSES category. The 1660s-1670s Mantuas are not compatible with shoes, leggings, or socks. I've removed these options in CAS tools so you shouldn't have to worry about clipping. The Barbara 1670s Dress has a sash meshed onto it, and because of this does not behave well with bigger bodies. The same applies to the Henrietta 1670s Dress, as the pearls don't behave with bigger bodies. Same with the Sarah 1670s Dress jewels. The 1690s-1710s Mantuas will have small gaps if the sim is plus-sized. I have tried to fix these issues, but no luck. The hat hair fontange looks a bit gray without reshade or a lighting mod. @northernsiberiawinds has some good lighting mods. Other than that, it's fine. Below, is how it will look white with a lighting mod.

Everything has AT LEAST 20 swatches. Some things have more. There are only a few things that don't have this many swatches.

Here are some pics up close of what you are getting.

Here are some pics/fashion plates from this era.

Did I forget the 1680s mantua..? Oh no! Luckily, I've included this surprise 1680s dress you'll be getting as well for reading all of that. So 26 items! (here you can see hat hair fontange without lighting mods installed)

BAROQUE SAVE TIPS: These dresses will work for winter, summer, and traveling wear. Just add a fichu for summer wear or a shawl. For winter wear just add some long gloves and a cape. For men's stuff from this era, @stereo-91 has recolored some acanthus outfits which can be found here. I'll show you how they look below. I also recommend going to his gallery (ROTAMETERS91) as he has AMAZING builds for this era. For a little boy, @acanthus-sims has some stuff that can work.

DOWNLOAD

#baroque ts4 #baroque sims 4 #sims 4 baroque #sims 4 decades #my cc #historical cc #ts4 cc #historical sims 4 #sims 4 historical #historical sims #sims 4 cc #the sims cc

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐦í𝐚

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: kissing, SMUT, PIV sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy sex, nipple play, cum play. MINORS DNI🔞🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re not the only one experiencing cravings during your pregnancy.

It was the first time Miguel came home to see you in a summer dress during your third trimester. You would usually wear sweatpants paired with a tank top or a t-shirt that would always be too big for you, in an attempt to hide your growing belly.

But now Miguel could see every curve and crevice of you. The dress reached upto your knees with the thin cotton adorned with floral prints, hugged the shape of your body. But the real charm was the ribbon that was added around the waist that accentuated your blossoming bump.

He watched as you bent over the counter top, the fabric tightened as you stretched further and struggled to reach the edge with the wet cloth to wipe down the surface. You huffed while resting your palm on your stomach, a thin film of sweat coated your face, making you glow under the warm kitchen lighting.

After a moment, Miguel finally drew himself closer to you, his hands gently gliding over the soft fabric of your dress as he placed them on your waist. You hummed inquisitively, acknowledging his presence. The faint smell of disinfectant and soap lingered from your skin as your eye bore up onto his.

“¿Qué pasa, amor?” It was easy for him to get lost in the sweetness of your voice, especially hearing you talk in Spanish. Even hearing you curse angrily, the feistiness with the edge you’d carry in your tone was still attractive. He could already see you after giving birth to his child, after hours of labor and pain and you’d still mumble soft words of affection to your baby’s ear that cradled in your arms.

“Your dress.” He simply replied back, his hand trailing up to reach the spaghetti straps that rested on your shoulder, looping his finger beneath the string.

“You like it? I thought I’d treat myself to one of the dresses from the maternity clothes section today.” You seemed unaware on how radiant you looked right now, especially with your bare arms catching a kiss of the setting sun.

“It’s phenomenal on you.” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear with his soft exhales ghosting over your soft neck. He knew by the shift in your gaze, his compliment didn’t reach you completely. He turned you around so you finally faced him, his hands on your belly.

The impending arrival of your child has brought with it subtle signs of motherhood and visible changes in your body. The stretch marks that accommodated the growing belly, the ever-present sheens of sweat and the swelling of your feet that made it hard to walk sometimes - these were all part of your everyday reality until the big day arrived.

Although you were both amazed by the life growing within you, you couldn’t help but feel unattractive which Miguel wasn’t surprised by. You were never obsessed with your appearance but these changes were bound to make you feel a little more self-conscious. However, the dress you were wearing was a hopeful sign.

Miguel found the connection you shared more profound now more than ever and he continued to remind you that you were carrying his child which made you more beautiful to him as well as the journey you were sharing.

He hooked his finger under the strap again, this time dragging it down your shoulders until the top of the dress hung loosely over your breast and did the same on the other side.

“Miguel…” you breathed but it sounded distant and it didn't fully register in his mind. His focus was solely on the straps that fell completely off both arms, the dress slipped off the top now exposing your breasts. Watching them grow along with your belly made Miguel’s libido flare.

Carefully, he cupped his hand over one, grazing his thumb over the hardened nipple. He knew you were more sensitive now so he handled your chest with care. The barest touch would have you whimpering. He heard your groans as he kept fondling with your breast, a sharp exhale leaving your lips.

Gentle.

He watched your dress loosely cling over your swollen stomach. He knew it wasn’t going to fall to the floor so he tugged the fabric and pulled it over your head before he lifted your bare body on the countertop.

“¡Ay Miguel! Not here. I just cleaned the counter.” You scolded lightly, but the grip you had on his biceps contradicted your protest. You wanted it as much as he did.

“I’ll clean up the mess after. Just let me have you now.” He was already tugging your undies, feeling the pool of your arousal staining the fabric.

“You’re unbelievably needy, you know that?” You watched him as he kneeled down to reach your cunt, your belly now blocking your view.

“I don’t see you complaining, querida.” He purposely breathed heavily over your clenching cunt, making sure you felt the hot air from his mouth in an attempt to tease you. Your hand feebly reached around to his hair, running your fingers over his locks in a silent plea to continue. Your other hand leaned against the counter behind you.

His tongue ran over your folds before reaching your swollen clit. He attached his mouth and started sucking on the sensitive bud, keeping a firm grip on your thighs. You tasted different now compared to when he ate you out before he knocked you up. Slightly sweeter than before. He could feel you tugging on his lock and attempting to pull him in closer to your cunt. But he was more firm and he wanted to take his time with you.

As he pulled away, a few strings of saliva were connected from your fold to his lips that he quickly wiped away. His cock was painfully hard behind his digital suit and he was sure you already noticed.

With a few taps on his watch, his suit disengaged, each pixel fizzled out in cobweb shapes.

Both your elbows rested on the counter as you locked your gaze onto him. He loomed over you, hands on the counter and leaning in before his lips found yours. The kiss was soft and sweet but carried a depth of emotions. He felt your swollen belly press against his torso as he leaned in closer, deepening the kiss. Breaking away from your lips, his gaze fixated on you as he brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

So soft.

He held onto your waist and pulled you in until his cock was inches from your cunt. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip and twitching in anticipation. Slowly, he pushed himself in and felt your walls caress each inch of him. You were already throwing your head back, one hand gripping onto his arm to steady yourself.

He could feel every pulse from his cock rubbing against your silky walls and flesh, squeezing him just right. Your body swayed helplessly over the countertop, taking in every thrust from his hips. He groaned as he was lost in a haze, completely aroused by how your wet cunt was pulling him back in greedily with each withdrawal.

Finally with his peak crawling up to him, he made sure he reached in deep, but not too much that he’ll hurt you. He felt a sudden rush from his cock as his seeds spilled inside of your swollen womb, reaching every crevice and coating your walls.

With a shaky breath, he pulled out of your dripping hole. As expected, his seeds didn’t stick, instead leaked out of your folds, spilling onto the counter. The post-nut clarity he was experiencing nearly made him forget his promise of cleaning up his mess.

“See why it wasn’t a good idea fucking me on the counter.” You quipped, smearing your fingers over his cum that continued to spill from your folds. Miguel groaned, his senses were coming back to him now and he could feel the newfound frustration settling in.

“Cállate.” He mumbled while grabbing the wet wipes from the shelf. “You’re lucky I had to be gentle with you, amor” he lowered himself and kissed your thigh before cleaning up the surface.

“Next time, we’ll stick to the bed.”

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara fic #♦︎— spicy #★— ayrus writes

[diorcities]

mdni

since it's chenle's day, let me share something that we all think but lemme elaborate more

chenle is the type of boyfriend who likes fancy things, and therefore, likes to spoil his s/o. likes them whiny, a little petty and brat; in another extend, he likes them cheerful, naive and pampered. into gentle brat taming and rough sex in equal parts. w corruption kink. he likes to follow the shading of your silhouette under the semi-sheer fabric he consciously chose. records the outline of your breasts, your thighs and your belly, then retraces the path with his tongue later that day.

he buys you summer dresses on the condition that you don't wear anything under to end up fucking you from behind while you set out to make lemon buns for his birthday.

likes your mild scents after you're done baking, boy can't hold himself and eats you in the kitchen counter. your thighs are his favorite part, holding and squeezing them while his tongue taste you until you either cum or start crying for his dick.

he likes to do it while you're wearing the pearl necklaces he buys you. likes to make out after you're done eating vanilla ice cream and likes your pretty mouth on his hard cock afterwards. into lacy things, and the small ribbons on your panties, he probably fucks you pulling the fabric to the side.

#chenle smut #chenle hard thoughts #chenle hard hours #nct dream smut #zhong chenle smut #♡chenle

[flyintheworldofbooks]

Sims 4 CC recs

This is my master list with my current cc's

Outfits:

By Aretha - pretty (&) savage collection 💗✨🦋

By aharris00britney - AxA 2020 | 90+ CAS Items | Public Release

By BlueCraving - Sporty Collection

By BlueCraving - Wedding Collection

By Oydis - Smart & Casual 💄 / Also has other packs with hair colors

By Oydis - The Little Black Dress 👠

By RIMINGS - Lazy Sunday / PJs / Also has a lot of good outfits

By Sunberry - Ribbon top long dress & Pearl Heart

By VIKAI X GREENLLAMAS - SOGUE

By Black Lily - Evenings With You Dress

By Caiocc - Lily: A 10 items set

By Caiocc - CxS Love Myself. - The Collection (9 items)

By clumsyalien - «mixtape» cc pack

By clumsyalien - «ambience» cc pack

By Daisy Pixels - 🔔 Antonia & Diana 🔔

By Miiko - Corset crop-top

By Rusty - Autumn City II

By Rusty - Basic VI

By Rusty - Princess of XIII

By Serenity - Hazelnut Set (12 items)

By Serenity - SxC Love Myself. - The Collection (7 items)

By Serenity - Aurora Set (13 items)

By Serenity - Bloom Set (10 items)

By Serenity - Nuage Set (13 items)

By Serenity - Sour Candy, a 6 item set.

By Serenity - Amethyst Set (6 items)

By Trillyke - Skyline Sweater and Jumper

By Trillyke - Silver Light Jeans

By Trillyke - Bad Chemical Jacket

Swimsuits:

By Caiocc - Ipanema: A 9 items set

By Trillyke - 🌞Hello Summer! Collection 🌞

Men:

By Black Lily - Miles Top

By Rusty - Mellow IV

Shoes:

By Jius-Sims - Shoe Collections

By Madlen - Shoe Collection

Accessories:

By clumsyalien - «euphoria» cc pack

By Miiko - High knit socks

By Pralinesims - PARADOX Glasses

By Pralinesims - DUNE Glasses

By Pralinesims - DOMINO Glasses

By Pralinesims - AGONY Ear Piercing Collection

By Pralinesims - THUNDERSTRUCK Ear Piercing Collection

Hair:

By Sheabuttyr - hannah hair

By Simcelebrity00 - Lexi Hairstyle

By sweetaday - Sasa Hair

By clumsyalien - «sweet & sour» hairs

By Marso - lock and lease

By Marso - kauban cc dump

By Miiko - Emma hair version 2

By Miiko - Anya hair (two lengths)

Skin/Makeup:

By Miiko - Rhea skin set

By Miiko - Body-kit No.2

By Pralinesims - BELLINI Makeup Collection

By Pralinesims - WATERDROP Maxis-Match Eyes

By Pralinesims - ESCAPISM Eye Trio

By Serenity - Anise Lipgloss (11 colors)

Kids:

By Sunberry - Cottagecore Collection👗👗

By Daisy Pixels - 💐☀️ Sunny Skies ☀️💐

By Miiko - 3D eyelashes + Makoto hair (children)

Toddlers:

By Daisy Pixels - Tilly and Pua 🌞💐 🌻 🌼 🌹 🌸

By Miiko - 3D eyelashes for toddlers & infants

Stuff:

By Aira - .˚₊┈୨ The Artist in Me🪞୧┈₊˚.

By RusticSims - CAREYES LIV& DIN - AUGUST SET- TIER PRO (15 TEXTURE)

By Felixandre - THE LIVIN' RUM

By Sixam CC - Boho-Bath Botanical Retreat

By Aira - Study in Style Set…………🐻

By Push Pixels - Urban outdoor

By Syboubou - Clarisse office set

By Miiko - Harmony furniture set

Edit: erased one of the kid's CCs as I don't like the textures and how it fits the sims in general - will probably add more CCs to this in the future!

#sims 4 cc #sims 4 #sims 4 stuff

[seaoflove07]

Love Planted a Rose 🌹

~ Cover Reveal ~

• Artwork by The Drawables • Oc •

🔪 Azusa & Rose 🌹

Before they met,

He was the young man from her nightmares

She was a Princess in his dreams…

~ Dark ~

Story Description:

The year was 2022 when Karlheinz discovered a special young woman named Christine living in the United States. He formed a new plan. The Adam and Eve project is still not completed but it was going his way. Yui Komori made her choice and chose Ayato as her Adam. Both of them are madly in love.

When a new situation came to Karlheinz's attention, he saw Christine could be the key to solving what was about to come to the Demon World.

That summer he offers her a good salary pay to work as a housekeeper at the Mukami’s Mansion in Japan. The payment was too good to pass on. She accepts the job not knowing that they are vampires. She will find out and he made sure that escaping will cost the lives of her loved ones back home. Before he can go through this new plan, Christine needs to interact with the Mukami brothers, Yui, and his sons first.

Until then, He will let them all have their little fun. Till the time comes for his plan to be ready.

Blood from a special rose will be needed. 🩸

“I want you… near me… even if you end up… hating me… I will still want you… by my side…”

- Azusa. Quote from Chapter 3.

Art Cover Inspiration:

~ Hans Zatzka ~

I've been a fan of Hans Zatzka’s fantasy paintings since I was a little girl. I love the entire aesthetic of Nature, Fairies, Angels, Rivers, Flowers, Dresses, and Romance. He includes all these in his paintings.

Even though Azusa and Christine’s story is not a fantasy fairytale. I still wanted this inspiration for the cover because three weeks before Azusa met Christine. His dreams were in a world that looked like Hans Zatzka's Paintings. The dress that Christine is wearing on the art cover is the dress that she was always wearing when she appeared in Azusa’s dreams. It's also a dress that I chose from Zatzka's Paintings.

I chose this one because of the blue waist ribbon. This same exact shade of blue is Azusa’s color representation from Rejet.

So I used this as a hidden symbol that she is his. 🔪🌹

For him, I choose an official art by Rejet. I wanted an outfit to represent that he is a vampire.

These are the rest of Hans Zatzka's paintings' inspiration for the artwork cover. 🎨

A little Information:

Dark Novel setting will be in the Summer Season.

During the School Year setting, I will add that in the second and third novels. (Maniac and Esctasy)

Why the year 2022?

That year I was in a Dark place mentally and was very depressed. Some of my dark issues, I wrote it through Christine. They say writing is a good way to heal. So part of this Fan Fiction story has been my healing process.

That's why I am so passionate about this ship. Christine and Azusa are my comfort characters. Both of them make me happy.

Writing Style:

Will be like the game routes.

Script Style.

Arts:

I will include artworks in some chapters of the story.

I decided to add the artworks in Black and White to give it a little novel style. Once I complete publishing the full story, I will do a post with all the arts I used for the story in color.

Where will it be published?

Tumblr and A03.

Story:

Masterpost. 🔪🌹

Note:

I am not a professional writer. Writing is new to me. This is my first time ever writing a story. I have written small fan fiction of Azusa and Rose before but that's basically it. I started writing last year, and I am still learning.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #christine #azusa mukami #his rose #azusa & rose #diabolik lovers fanfiction #diabolik lovers fandom #diabolik lovers fanfic #diaboys #mukami brothers #diabolik lovers azusa #diahell #hans zatzka #diabolik lovers fanart #love planted a rose

[sapphire-dreamsky]

one name amongst a hundredth 

inspiration: heavily inspired by The Hunger Games starring: ryomen sukuna | female reader pairing: sukuna x reader warnings: violence| death of minor characters setting: alternate universe | hunger games universe previous

It was one slip of paper amongst 100 others.

Sukuna stood amongst a crowd of boys dressed in white and grey. He certainly stood out with his pink hair and red eyes. In a sea of monochrome colours, he was the sun. 

His peers feared him. His teachers disciplined him the hardest. He was different. And humans hated different people. In a class of thirty students, he was the black sheep. It didn’t matter how much effort he put in his studies or his projects. It would never be enough in a sea of grey and white. 

And yet, there was no one else who could outmatch him in a game of wit. After a hunt, he would always bring back deers during winter; hares during summer. His skills were unmatched. But it didn’t matter at school. In class, he was a disturbance. The troublemaker. He could live with this title. He had four years left in school before he could start working. He didn’t know yet what he wanted to do. But one thing’s for sure, he wanted to do something ludicrous. He wanted to live comfortably. He wanted to provide (name) with a comfortable life where she wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow anymore. He wanted to make every girl who dared mock her, be jealous of her; want to be her. And to do that, he needed money. He needed to make a name for himself. But not like this.

The Capitol’s representative, a woman with an interesting wig that most probably cost more than both his father and mother ever make in one month, dug her gloved coloured hand in the fish bowl; ruffled the slips to create unnecessary tension and stress. A permanent grin etched on her pink coloured lips. If (name) was by his side, he would have remarked that the lady was the very inspiration to the Red Queen in her favourite book. They would laugh at the comparison later on while stuffing their faces with those black sesame filling buns as promised under the willow tree. They would run across the meadow like children should, worrying only when the announcement for yet another game came. Until they both reach their eighteenth birthdays; both of their names forever disappear from the slips of papers in the fish bowl. They would get married when he would be twenty-four and working, and she would be twenty-two forging pieces of jewelleries to sell to those rich enough to afford. She would wear a beautiful white dress with the red ribbon he gifted her on her tenth birthday attached securely to her hair to make it apparent that she was his and he was hers. 

He had a whole life ahead. He had so many things he wanted to do. He still had so many things he wanted to say to (name) still. 

“Ryoumen Sukuna.”

Ryoumen Sukuna. The pink haired boy dissociated. It was one amongst one hundredth. What were the odds? Not in his favour that’s for sure. He watched blankly as the sea of monochrome clothed boys parted ways. He never felt more exposed than on that day. He could feel the relief on the boys’ shoulders. Their relieved sighs. Their happy stares because it was not them. The slip belonged to the odd one. The one who never belonged. He shouldn’t have been angry. He shouldn’t have been cursing them one by one in his head, wishing their day would come next year. Because if he was in their place, if another slip was drawn by those fucking ugly gloved hands by that damn Capitol representative, he would have felt relieved as well. It was a dog eat dog world. The bottom feeder was always fodder for the sharks. And right now, he was a bottom feeder as he was led by peacekeepers up the podium to join the crying female tribute to give a salute worthy to be broadcasted all over Panem. 

“Sukuna!”

Red eyes widened. (Name) was scrambling outside the crowd of girls. Her arms were outstretched towards him. The peacekeepers grabbed at the hysteric kicking girl. He inwardly seethed as their hands dared to lay on her. But he knew, now that he was a player in the game, he had to be strong for the both of them more than ever. Less she becomes a target for the Capitol. 

So, he turns around despite the peacemakers’ digging fingers in his back forcing him to walk forward.

“Brat. I will see you when I come back. Behave until I come back.”

Because he was coming back. With each step he took towards the grinning powder-covered representative, his resolve at surviving these games became stronger. His face became colder; eyes losing the innocent gleam he attended the reaping with. They were now replaced with a strong will to survive. No matter the cost. 

“And we have here District 12's male tribute, Ryoumen Sukuna!”

Red eyes focused on the girl with the red ribbon being comforted by his mother. His mother’s face was long. Her tears wouldn’t stop streaming. His father put on his bravest face. But Sukuna knew that behind his façade was a man mourning for the death of his only child. His family was all mourning for him. But he wasn’t dead yet. He wouldn’t die yet. He looked down upon the faces of those he went to school with. Their faces all showed relief and happiness. Happiness that he would finally be gone. He committed each face to memory. His hatred for everyone will be his fuel to victory.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna x reader

[honeeslust]

Them | part 4

🖤 WC: + 1785 or whatever 🙄

🖤 So this is one for the anime guys with the dreamiest dead eyes and forever sullen mood. They're not wasting time with bullshit and some people can't handle that, but it's what draws you to him. He's not shy and he can even be so rude, but somehow incredibly gentle with you. If you feen like I do, it's because you know you're getting the best of both worlds…They treat you like a princess but they wanna possess you. The combination of the two?? I think it'll go a lol something like this…

🖤 Levi, Megumi, Toji, Choso, Suguru, Obanai, Giyu, Anzai, Mikey, Baji, Dabi, and whoever else you see fits 😊 all characters implied are consenting adults!!

It was the hottest day of the summer so far and it carried right into the night. You had stopped for ice cream hoping to get some sort of relief from the unbearable heat wave. You stood just off to the side, eyes to the stars in the sky as you wiped the sweat from your brow. You turned to him just in time to see him thank the vendor, handing over cash and wishing him well. He returns to you with the sweet treat in hand and an even sweeter soft smile on his eyes that was reserved for you alone.

He held your hand as you walked the short path to the spot he picked out for you both. Setting the basket down, he grabs a blanket and unfolds it before you and drops to his knees. You slipped your hand into his awaiting one. Your gentle Thanks earning his heart stopping sideways smile. You tucked your short dress between your legs to sit next to him, drawing in a shaky breath as you felt his hand on you. He just barely grazes the exposed skin of your lower back but your body’s reaction is intense. As you opened yourself up to him, his gaze steadied on your lips and the way you smiled at him.

Mmmm, vanilla you whispered under your breath looking at the perfectly spiraled ribbons adorning the sweet treat before darting your eyes at him. You were wondering if he would be as sweet with you when he fucked you, or would he be rough? The dark look about his eye hinted towards the latter, or maybe even somewhere in between. Either way, something seemed to shift in him. After all, you were basically eye fucking him, licking the sweet cream up with your tongue, maybe doing so just a little slower than you needed to. You could see how your teasing was affecting him.

Licking his lips, his hands roughly reaching for you, he pulls you closer. You were absolutely the center of his attention as he was already contemplating the ways he could make you cry out for him. He wanted to know what makes you moan and what makes you weak. What kinds of kisses make you shy away, what touches make you writhe?

Not much for words when it comes to how he feels about you, but his actions always let you know just how much he cares. Even the way he looked at you right now with daring look in his eyes, shining almost too bright for his ebony locks that fell over his brow in that boyish way. The contrast was so mesmerizing that you found yourself wanting to know what lie beyond the little hint of the devil that lingered in them. You decided you were done making him wait, you wanted to open up and give him control. You wanted to be his. Want some? You asked a devious smile upon your lips.

I’d love some. Before you can extend the cone to him, his mouth is on your lips. He moans through parted lips, making you thread your fingers in his hair, his own keeping you tight in his grasp. your tongue laps over his so sweetly that you're moaning already. As you shared the sweet taste with him, you forget all about the creamy treat that was now dripping onto your thighs. He breaks the kiss to your disappointed sigh. Please.. You tremble wiiling him to keep kissing you. He only glares at you, the corner of his mouth turning up, Steady now… I need to get this. Taking the treat from you, he went after the stream of sticky liquid, lapping it up with an inquisitive tongue shocking you with how good he looked watching you twist for him. Please don't stop. He never planned to, not with the way you were coming undone for him.

You slip the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, and he like what he sees. He doesn't care you're out in the open, all he knows is that he has to have you. He holds the cone over your body and the melting drops splatter across your chest. He hovers the it over your nipple and the icy sensation has you moaning his name while you squirm beneath him, your fingers are clenching into tight fists, shivers radiating through you entire body.

He was fixated on you, how you were so easily susceptible to every little touch. His mouth fell upon you, making your body arch, from the way he trailed his tongue all over, sucking the sticky mess from your salty flesh. He wedged himself between your legs, cascading more wet kisses across your collar, your shoulder, and back to your lips where he found himself needing to reciprocate how good you made him feel.

He makes out with you, treating your lips as if they were made of sugar, toying with the fullness with a skillful tongue. He breaks away, caressing your cheek with hot fingertips, Open for me… your lips part, little butterflies dancing in your stomach. Show me your tongue. You stuck it out for him. and it was met with more of the creamy confection dripping onto your palate until it spilled down the sides of your mouth and fell onto your chest. There's a good girl. Again, acutely aware of the surrounding sounds and movements, he knew he had the time and opportunity to indulge in you. You leaned back on your arms, the loose straps falling down shoulders. Please, you begged, inviting him back for another taste.

adoring the mess he made of you, he hooks his arm around you, pulling at the back of your neck to lay you down beneath him. He uses his tongues to clean you up ,sucking and kissing until his mouth sought out the sensitive bead, licking it up and down until he kissed away all of the sticky mess.

He hovers, his hips sinking between your legs but not quite giving you all of his weight. You hated not being able to feel more of him, but he knew what he was doing. He wanted you losing yourself this way. He wanted you ready to forget everything else and you were, sighing to him, legs hooking around his waist, you pleaded …need to feel you.

He takes hold of your hips that you’re ur constantly shoving toward him. Shhhhh greedy girl, he whispers looping his fingers into your panties. You tilt your hips, letting him slide the lacey fabric down your thighs. Grateful for the isolated spot he chose, he forcefully spread your legs open to him. gorgeous, he regards the enticing display, beginning to suck all over your thighs until they are left covered with his marks.

Now, nothing else matters. Especially not the idea of being caught in such a lewd display. If anything it made your over-sensitized core jump at every single swipe of his tongue.

He was enraptured, sucking on your salty slick flesh, his fingers now sliding through your swollen pink lips, your hips fitting perfectly into his grip. Was it possible to detonate upon impact? You had your answer the moment his mouth tested wetness between your legs. He looked on with a satisfied glint in his eye.

He never once lets go, never once does his tongue stop assaulting your clit, never once does he let you flinch away from the way his mouth made love to your pussy. He only pulls you closer, burying his face deeper until he can't breathe. He adores you like this, how you give you’re self over to the pleasures he could make you feel.

He wanted to revel in the exact moment you became his. Exploiting every weakness he knew of you to bring you close to the edge before finally knowing what you felt like.

By the time he's taking your ankle into his grasp, you're the one melting, trying to remind yourself to breathe. To experience each little moment and savor it. He kisses and nips along the inside of your calf. Reflexively, you kicked him on the shoulder, that tickles you half laugh a moan. He smirks, laying on his side behind you, kissing the back of your shoulder as he undoes his pants. You are reduced to a pile of writhing flesh and bone as he prods you with his engorged cock. He guides your leg upward, giving you a perfect view of the blushing tip as he taps it onto your opening. He strokes it along your puffy wet lips, again and again, his words melting in your ear…my pretty girl so ready for me to feel her. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen… his teeth are grazing your ear making you mumble his name... Lemmie be inside you... Tap.. let me feel you, he bit down, pumping his hips into you, purposely edging your shivering cunt. Let me hear you say it. Say you want me inside you pretty girl, say it for me. Please please please ___fuck me, you know I want you, his sick throbbing in his hands, he knows he can’t wait anymore. He groans appreciatively in your ear when he finally inches inside you.

Ohh, thank you — you cry, your nails dragging up his arms. The cuts you’re making only making him grip you tighter. Rough little one are you? But look at you taking it though. He laughs resisting the urge to fuck you deeper. slow hands rub along your side as he fills you little by little. Gooooood fuckin girl. His voice rattles along your flesh making it hard to keep your eyes open. When your head falls, he slows his pace, keeping one arm under your leg, the other pulls your body closer so he could see the faces you made as he sank deeper into you. You gotta look at me baby, I wanna see it in your face. I wanna see how you let go pretty one, come here. Only half of it is in, but fuck does it still feel good. he pulses his hips, nudging at that gooey center that makes your entire body vibrate. That heavy feeling building so fast you know you'll break. He’s got you right where he wants you. weak, tears already forming in your eyes so full, baby I’m gunna come.

Yes, you feel so good.. wanna go deeper baby…lemmie fill you. He does exactly that, gripping you tighter by the hips to push in and out, that cock stretching you so good you couldn’t hold back if your tried. All the wetness he churns out of your clenching hole makes such slutty sounds. Mmmm, my god I.. I can’t, you’re crying and lips trembling, but you can baby, your entire body is shaking, his thrusts becoming heavier everytime he rutts back into you. You’re sprawled out against him, letting him batter your sticky cunt that was already soaking his pulsing cock. But still, he’s stroking your sweet spot, whispering to you keeeep coming, I need to fill you all the way baby. Your wide eyes peering at him now, he's finally burying every inch into you, so deep that you squeal his name, his breath catches in his chest when you look at him on the brink of losing it all, mhmm he praises ready to help you over the edge again, there’s a good girl, huhhh, sssss yess. Look how you take this dick. Fuck yes, come with me, pretty girl? he fucks you erratically until his release runs deep in your soggy embrace and you cling to him so tight that he can't pull back. He stays deep, your tremors milking his fat cock for every ounce it is worth. He glances over his shoulder, hearing footsteps approaching from a ways away. He kisses your shoulder again, already fixing your dress let me get this, someone’s coming.

Thanks to my love bugs who low-key encouraged me to just post my shit regardless. I think all that matters is that I get this shit outta my head. It feels good to get lost in imagination from time to time. ☺️ no tags cause this is shit 😩

#smut oneshot #smutxanime honeeslust #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #getou suguru smut #levi x reader #megumi smut #mikey x reader #baji x black!reader #dabi smut #anzai yuuki #dilf toji

[flowerandblood]

Sweet kiss, sweet blood (3)

[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, profanation, fluff ]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The thought of her warm, moist lips against his hand occupied his mind for the rest of the night. He pretended to listen to Criston, who was telling him something passionate after returning from the hunt, but what he was really doing was replaying their meeting in his mind.

There was something bright, shimmering about her, like a star in a dark night sky. He thought it was a pleasure to watch and listen to her. Criston only caught his attention when he asked him a question that made him shiver.

"Tomorrow is Sunday. It's supposed to be cloudy, so I'm going to Mass. People here are very curious, I have to show myself once in a while during the day. Do you want to join me?” He asked, wiping his hands stained with the blood of the rabbits that he had brought for them on a white handkerchief.

Aemond pursed his lips, trying to keep a straight face and not show how excited he was at the thought. He knew she would be there. Moreover, Ser Criston knew her father and knew he would have to introduce him to them in order not to arouse suspicion. He decided it was the perfect combination of events that excited him more than it should have.

"I will join you. I don't have anything else to do here anyway." He said, feigning indifference, reaching for the goblet of blood that he had placed in front of him a moment earlier.

Mass was early in the morning so they both changed into clean clothes, wanting to represent themselves well. Aemond tied his hair back with a black ribbon and put on a top hat, staring in the mirror. For some reason his whole body tingled at the thought of seeing her again. He was curious to see what she looked like during the day.

He and Criston set off in a carriage along a misty, country road to the church a few miles away. They took umbrellas with them just in case, because it had been raining lightly since morning. The weather was gloomy and ugly, it was also quite chilly for the summer period, but for them it was perfect conditions, not causing any discomfort.

After a few minutes they reached the place. They arrived at a small, wooden church with a beautiful garden around it. Inside candles were lit, which was suppoused to help the faithful in the absence of sunlight.

Ser Criston greeted everyone along the way, each time grabbing the edge of his top hat as he stepped inside. They sat in one of the first pews, as befitted their status. Aemond looked around, but to his disappointment she was nowhere to be seen. He felt his whole body tense in pleasant, exciting anticipation.

He flinched as he heard the main, wooden door creak open. Even though he was fighting with himself he glanced slightly over his shoulder. He immediately pursed his lips, feeling a shiver. He saw their whole family.

Her father looked like a very serious, stern man, his dark mustache quivering menacingly under his nose as he spoke to his wife who nodded meekly. Behind them stood their probably older daughter with her husband, a round, smiling man with ruddy cheeks.

He whispered something to his wife, and she laughed lightly, hiding her embarrassment. Their youngest daugther was standing next to them, looking straight at him. He marveled at how pure joy she had in her eyes.

She was dressed in a light, austere, victorian gown with a deep waist. Her hair was braided at the back in an elaborate, sophisticated bun, with strands of her hair twisted at the sides. She looked gentle and polite, her clothes expressed humility and modesty, although they emphasized all the qualities of her body.

He cleared his throat, turning his gaze to the altar as he saw her family seated in the front row with her. Mr. Whaterfield extended his hand to Criston.

“Ser, it's pleasure to see you again. I hope that life at Mantfield Abbey is going well for you and you are happy with your residence." He spoke in a low, booming voice, a note of cautious cordiality in his voice. Criston stood up and shook his hand.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Whaterfield, I live perfectly well there." He replied courteously, smiling barely perceptibly. Mr. Whaterfield glanced at Aemond, and Criston knew he had to introduce him.

"This is my dear friend, Ser Aemond Targaryen, who has come to visit me. He appreciates the very beautiful views and landscapes of Mantfield.” He said softly, and Aemond nodded.

He tried with all his strength to look at him and not at his daughter who was looking at him intensely. Mr. Whaterfield bowed.

“I am very pleased to meet you, sir. I will take the opportunity to invite both gentlemen to tea at our home, at a time that is convenient for you." He said calmly, his wife smiled warmly at them.

Criston cleared his throat, nodding his head. He knew he couldn't say no, he had to socialize with the townspeople if he didn't want to attract attention.

"Thank you, sir. We will adapt, we just ask for information when we can appear." He said calmly.

Mr. Whaterfield smiled in satisfaction and motioned for his family to sit down. Aemond immediately looked at her, sitting right in front of him. He had a perfect view of her slender, long neck, unobstructed by any hair.

Her scent filled his nostrils again, the memory of her lips on his skin made him feel his manhood throbbing in his pants. He wondered if she got wet between her thighs at the sight of him. He pursed his lips as he lowered his head, deciding that this was not the best topic to think about in the House of God.

After a while the pastor came out, they got up and the mass began. The priest was quite a young man, about thirty years old. During the sermon he spoke fiercely about God's mercy and love for one's neighbor.

Aemond thought he was being too theatrical about it all, and he was clearly lacking in life experience. There were no personal thoughts in what he said, just empty phrases.

His gaze flicked back to her neck, her wonderfully throbbing artery. He flinched when he saw her turn in profile towards him, not looking at him, as if she just wanted to make sure he was still there.

He felt an unbearable tension in his pants and throat. He wanted to touch her. Lean forward a few inches and brush his lips against her neck. He squeezed his eye shut at the thought, feeling that his manhood was completely hard now. He wondered why he lost his temper so easily around her.

Then it was time for the Eucharist. Of course neither he nor Criston approached, recognizing that sacrilege was not their passion. The whole Whaterfield family on the other hand lined up in front of the pastor. As the priest placed the Eucharist on her moist, pink tongue, Aemond shivered, as if he had just experienced her intimate, private sphere. He felt Criston nudge him on the shoulder.

"Stop staring at her, for God's sake." He whispered impatiently, correcting himself on the seat. Aemond pursed his lips, looking away from her, staring blankly ahead.

After the Mass crowds of people came out of the church, talking to each other. Mr. Whaterfield stopped them as they headed for their carriage. He and his family stood under umbrellas, the rain fell around them.

"Ser Criston, Ser Aemond, my wife and I will be happy if you grace us with your presence tomorrow at noon." He said with a pleased expression on his face and Criston bowed. The hour wasn't the best for them, but he couldn't help it.

"With pleasure." He said, and after a while the pastor joined them, holding out his hands to Mr. Whaterfield.

“Ah, my future son-in-law! Ser Criston, have you met Pastor Smith yet?" He asked, pointing to the man who had spoken before them in the church. Criston shook his hand, smiling courteously, wishing he could just go back to his mansion.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, sir." He said, trying to keep his voice pleasant.

Aemond stared at him, then looked at her. He saw that she was pale, her gaze lowered as if she was deep in thought. Mr. Whaterfield continued.

“I am incredibly happy that someone of God's calling will join our family. Faith is very important to us. My daughter is also looking forward to it." He said, looking at his youngest daughter.

She, to everyone's surprise, turned around and started walking along a dirt road in the rain. Her mother looked at her husband worriedly.

"She'll catch a cold." She said softly, Mr. Whaterfield pursed his lips, clearly enraged.

"You spoiled her too much. Forgive me, Mr. Smith, I'm sure she'll become more serious and calm after she become your wife." He said, patting the pastor on the shoulder. He smiled under his breath.

"Please, don't worry about it. When she gives birth to our children, she will learn humility."

Aemond stared at them intently, his lips pressed into a thin line. Criston stared at him in horror, wondering what was happening to him.

"Calm down." He whispered to him through clenched teeth as he opened the door to their carriage. Aemond stepped around him, opening his umbrella as he walked forward. Everyone gathered looked at him in surprise.

It was still four kilometers to her house, he thought. Walking in such rain, fever was almost certain, and with it her death. He wondered if her father didn't know, or if he thought it would be God's punishment for her disobedience.

He searched for her with his eye, as he walked over the ground which was slowly becoming mud. He saw her silhouetted under one of the large trees, sitting on the grass. She was probably waiting there for the rain to stop.

He approached her slowly, and when she saw him she stood up suddenly, shocked. Her hair, face and dress were all wet, her body was shivering slightly from the cold. He placed the umbrella beside her, taking off his cloak and putting it around her shoulders.

“Congratulations on choosing your future husband. He will surely lead you to holiness, miss Whaterfield." He said low and ironic, picking up the umbrella from the grass, now holding it above their heads. Her hands fisted the material of his coat, pulling it tighter around her. She looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“You are a men. You will not understand.” She spoke softly, weak and discouraged. She lowered her gaze, looking somewhere to the side, apparently thinking about something. “I did not accept his engagement. My father did it for me."

They stood for a moment in complete silence, only the pleasant sound of rain and drops falling on the grass could be heard around them. His expression softened at her words. Her hair was a bit messy now, stuck to her forehead and cheeks. He wanted to brush them away and adjust them, to touch her face, but he refrained.

"As far as I know, no one can force you to marry." He said calmly and low, looking her up and down, his eye still returning to her pale neck.

He thought he could bite her and steal her, take her for himself. Don't kill her, just drink her blood and take her to his bed alternately. She looked at him in such a way that he raised an eyebrow. There was disapproval and boredom in her eyes.

"Then you know very little." She said indifferently. He pursed his lips at her words.

They stared at each other, but this time she didn't look away from him. He thought she felt more confident around him during the day. Her question snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Why did you follow me?" She asked, looking at him uncertainly. He swallowed silently, looking at her pink, glossy lips.

“I figured I am good at getting young ladies home safely. Will you not agree with me, miss Whaterfield?" He asked low. He shivered as she smiled tenderly at him in gratitude, her gaze suddenly softening.

"Indeed, ser Aemond."

They walked in silence under one umbrella. The rain was falling so hard that not a soul was around them. He held his top hat under his arm as he looked around the seemingly, endless fields and meadows. After a moment he heard her amused voice.

"What do you think of Pastor Smith's sermon?" She asked teasingly, looking somewhere far away. Aemond smirked.

“It was unreasonably haughty, as all of him, I suppose. Am I wrong?" He asked, and she smiled slightly, exhaling softly.

"No. He's a good man, but sometimes I don't think he knows what he's talking about. As if every human problem could be answered in a single sentence.” She muttered discouraged, wrapping his cloak tighter against the wind. He thought that she was talking to him to distract herself from how cold she felt. Her lip trembled slightly, as did her hands.

"What are you praying for in the chapel?" He asked suddenly, and she looked at him in surprise.

She swallowed hard, looking away. He felt that the blood he had drunk in the morning had already absorbed into his body. He pressed his lips together, trying to control the hunger that was slowly struggling inside him. There was silence between them for a long time.

"You will laugh at me if I tell you." She said quietly, discouraged, a note of despair in her voice. A smirk appeared on his face at her words.

"Try me." He hummed teasingly with satisfaction in his voice. He heard her loud sigh, signifying that she had given up.

“I am praying for God to speak to me. For him to told me which way is right for me. But he doesn't answer." She said, lowering her head. She looked at him as if an idea had occurred to her. "But he sent me you, sir. So perhaps you should tell me what to do."

He shook his head in amusement at her words. She turned her head away, embarrassed and humiliated by his reaction. Seeing this, he spoke at last, the smile never leaving his face.

"I'm the worst possible person to give advice to you, miss Whaterfield." He said softly. She looked at him in surprise.

She blinked and pursed her lips, as if contemplating whether to say something. She was so close to him that once in a while their arms brushed against each other. He shivered every time.

He knew it was for sure because she wanted to take shelter under an umbrella and not get wet, but his body reacted intensely and strongly to it. She finally said something.

"You're the only one who listened to me." She said, there was warmth in her voice and a note of softness that made his bottom tighten. "Maybe you think too little of yourself."

He stopped, seeing her house on the horizon. He looked at her and placed his umbrella in her frozen hand. His cold fingers pressed against her trembling, soft skin. She looked at him, shocked.

They stared at each other for a long moment, leaning over each other, her mouth slightly parted in disbelief. He felt that the tension between them was unbearable. He lifted his hand, his thumb grazing her cheek, sending a strong shiver down her spine.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered, and she froze, her breath ragged.

He had a feeling that she was about to cry for some reason, her hand tightened on the handle of the umbrella that she was holding together with him.

He leaned closer to her so that their noses were practically touching. He wanted to kiss her. To sink his lips into her soft skin, to taste her saliva, to touch her tongue with his. To bite her lip lightly and taste even a small drop of her blood.

They looked at each other with hazy eyes. Her whole jaw was trembling, her eyes were all red with tears. He let go of her hand, which was clenched tightly around the umbrella. They pulled away from each other, pressing their lips together. She turned and walked briskly towards her house, still wrapped in his coat.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsfavouritebastard @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @bellameshipper

Others: @talesofoldandnew @toodlesxcuddles @padfooteyes @iloveallmyboys

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥️

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x you #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond fluff #house of the dragon aemond #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x you #dark aemond targaryen #aemond vampire #aemond fandom #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond x reader #modern aemond smut #modern aemond #modern!aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #dark aemond #vampire aemond #dark aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut

[libbyisprettywhenshecries]

guide to a Born To Die Summer

☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★

your favorite red lipstick

a pair of heart/big sunglasses (of any color)

denim shorts/skirts paired with chunky belts that look like your southern grandfathers'

cowboy boots

white summer dresses, summer dresses in general would work as well

gingham red sets, dresses, bikinis, anything red gingham!

white ruffly socks

braided hairstyles, tied off with ribbons

tank tops, baby doll tops, just pretty tops

anything with cherries

cherry lip products

any perfume that makes you feel nice

remember you do not have to have a certain look to fit into this aesthetic, you can be any size, color, shape, anything. you are beautiful, perfect, and don't you forget it!

☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★☆✮★

#it girl #that girl #pink pilates princess #self care #dream girl #self love #girlblogging #becoming that girl #pink pilates girl #subliminals #pink aesthetic #pinkcore #pink coquette #makeup #beauty #fashion #cute #born to die summer #vintage americana #coquette #born to die #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #lana del slay #lana del rey #lana del ray aesthetic #lana is god #ldr #norman fucking rockwell #lana del ray

[fairyyeo]

white dress

pairing — beomgyu x reader

genre — fluff

tw — alcohol and food consumption

wc — 3.8k

a/n — hey 🤓 im still alive just being a slow writer with way too many ideas and no motivation. hope you guys enjoy this one i quite liked this idk just something i whipped up despite my million other wips. haha. yeah. anyway! please reblog if you enjoyed it means the world <3 also inspired by the lana song in case anyone wondered also also this is grossly self indulgent im not sorry !

————

"see you next time!" you called out, listening to the door bell ring upon the customer's exit.

you wiped your sweaty brow. the summer was hot—abnormally hot. not to mention, the customers were relentless.

to be fair, it was a friday evening and everyone rushes for an icy cola to refresh themselves after work on a sweltering hot day.

you were a waitress for the summer. you loved your job. the diner was just next to the beach, and only a short walk from your house. work didn't start until after midday, so you had all morning to... sleep in. because you finished relatively early in the night you often stayed up late, making the most of the darkness. when the sun's up it's far too hot, but in the night it's much cooler. the perfect temperature for anything and everything.

usually you hung around at home, drinking wine and reading. how could you not, when you had an ocean view? sometimes you walked down to the beach, to drink wine and read. or you walked to the park, also to drink wine and read.

sometimes, if you were feeling extra adventurous, you'd go for a swim or a bike ride. but usually you just downed your wine and escaped to your books.

you placed a sickly sweet strawberry milkshake in front of a customer and they quickly sipped the sugary drink, humming in delight.

the door bell tinkled as a boy, seemingly your age, sauntered in clad in a leather jacket layered over a white shirt. how he was coping with the heat in that outfit, you were unsure of.

"hi!" you put on your best customer grin. "what can i get for you tonight?"

the boy's eyes scanned the chalkboard panels on the wall behind you. his dark brows knit together as his equally dark eyes darted from left to right, reading over the options.

"i'll have a cola and fries, thanks." he nodded curtly at the end of his order, pulling the correct amount of cash from his pocket and placing it on the counter.

"i'll have that ready as soon as possible, take a seat wherever you like." you replied, motioning to all the different seats, inside and out.

the boy headed back outside into the heat and sat at one of the outdoor tables. thankfully, the sun was starting to set and the temperature would drop to its comfortable warmth soon, but until then it was still far too hot.

the only perk of sitting outside was the ocean breeze and the salty air smell that came with it. you couldn't blame him, you were rather fond of the smell yourself. it filled your house when you had the windows open, which you always did when it wasn't too hot, usually in autumn or spring. nonetheless, the smell sometimes seeps into the diner, especially if you sit right by the door. but it was too late to tell that to the boy, who had already made himself comfortable in his chair, facing the shoreline.

you quickly filled a glass with ice, topped it up with cola, and dropped in a straw before carrying it out to the jacket-wearing boy. you concluded that he'd want something to cool off while he waits for his food.

his head turned instantly as the door bell tinkled and you approached his seat.

"here you go, your fries will be out soon." you offered a smile as you placed the cola onto the coaster on the table.

the boy merely nodded again in thanks as you hurried away. he observed you closely once your back was turned. the short white dress under your red apron, the matching white ribbon tied in your hair. the slightly dirtied but also white tennis shoes that enabled you to move lightly on your feet while you worked.

he couldn't wait for you to come back out so he could get a good look at your face.

in the meantime, he took a sip of his cola through the red straw resting in the tall glass. it had only been about a minute but there was already an immense amount of condensation on the glass and he smiled to himself, this was the epitome of summer.

the sun was now just struggling to stay afloat on the horizon and the heat was becoming more bearable. the boy threw a glance over his shoulder perfectly on time to see you push the door open with your free hand and hurry back over to him with a serve of fries in hand.

just as he'd hoped, he managed to get a good look at your face, and god, were you beautiful.

"enjoy your food." you said sweetly, setting down the fries.

he couldn't just let you go.

"beomgyu." the boy stated.

real smooth. he internally cringed.

"excuse me?" you politely replied, believing you'd misheard him say something.

"my name's beomgyu. what's yours?" he asked out of genuine curiosity.

"y/n."

intrigue sparkled in his eyes for a brief moment, but it was fleeting as a shooting star. "and when do you get off, y/n?" instantly he liked the way your name rolled off his tongue. beomgyu caught himself wondering what his name would sound like from your lips, but he quickly shook the thought, getting far too ahead of himself.

you glanced through the window to the clock behind the counter. "uh, at ten o'clock tonight." usually it was earlier, but you were busier today, and the manager likes to stay open a little longer when the diner is bustling.

"can i pick you up then?" beomgyu asked, picking up a fry.

"i'm sorry?" you cocked your head, voice pitching up slightly in surprise.

"i'd like to see you again. is this evening too soon?" at least he was honest.

honesty is a virtue, as the saying goes.

your eyes narrowed. "i don't even know you."

it felt too good to be true. no one had ever taken interest in you before. you were too quiet to grab anyone's attention. all throughout school you hardly had any friends, and nowadays, the only people you consider friends are your workmates and manager.

and honestly, that was okay. you liked spending time with yourself, but you supposed one night apart from your books wouldn't kill you.

"i know it seems forward, but i would like for you to know me. just as i'd like to know you as well." he took a sip from his cola, the ice now entirely melted and probably watering down the drink. "it's more than okay to say no, i'll leave you well alone. i swear."

"no it's just..." you began, but paused, a little embarrassed. "no one's ever asked me out before."

beomgyu lifted his brows in shock—the most emotion you'd seen him show yet, "you're serious?"

you shrugged bashfully, fiddling with your hands.

"but you're beautiful..." he uttered more so to himself than to you.

you cheeks filled with heat, and it wasn't the last few rays of sun causing it. no one had ever said that to you either.

you slowly stepped back to the door without turning your back to beomgyu. "i'll see you at ten?" a shy smile appearing on your face.

beomgyu nodded, still looking a little distant and confused.

no one had asked you out before? it was impossible for him to believe.

about half an hour later, when the last of the sun was well and truly gone, you saw beomgyu get up and stroll over to his motorcycle—which you don't recall seeing him arrive on—before driving away.

you glanced at the clock: 8:26pm.

beomgyu would be back soon enough.

————

after cleaning the diner, hanging your apron in the break room, and locking up the store, it was 10:06pm.

truthfully, you doubted beomgyu would show up. you knew it was too good to be true. a wildly attractive, white shirt and black converse wearing, dark haired and dark eyed, shadowy and mysterious boy actually asking you out. there was simply no way.

you heaved a sigh and glanced into the unilluminated room, squinting to try and read the clock. you'd wait until 10:15pm. that was the lastest you could wait around without losing respect for yourself.

you were sitting at the outdoor table nearest to the diner entrance, your hands sandwiched between your thighs and the metalwork chair, which would definitely leave an impression on the back of your legs when you stood up.

at least it had finally cooled down a little, without the harsh sun the scorching heat became a more comfortable warmth. you shut your eyes for a minute, allowing yourself to relax.

when you opened your eyes again it was 10:11pm. the corners of your mouth turned down into a slight frown. it was then that you heard the grumble of a motorcycle get increasingly louder, and you suppressed a smile.

beomgyu was still wearing the same outfit as before, you were glad because he looked wildly attractive in that jacket.

"sorry i'm late." was the first thing he said. "i was picking up some things." he held up a brown paper bag that had been previously wedged between his thighs as he drove the motorcycle.

"i'm glad you showed." you said with a small smile.

"you thought i'd leave you waiting around?" he sounded concerned.

you shrugged. "i guess so."

beomgyu grabbed your hand and pulled you along gently towards his motorcycle. "then you're mistaken, and we really ought to start knowing each other." he picked up the helmet, "i would like to take you somewhere, if that's okay. it's just outside of town."

"you're not—"

"—going to kill me are you?" he laughed, predicting the words before they left your mouth. "do you trust me?"

weirdly enough, you did.

you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even if you didn't trust him, you weren't sure that you'd be able to resist accompanying him to wherever it was that he was taking you.

so you nodded which caused him to smile—the first time you'd seen him do so—and place the helmet over your head, fastening it well.

beomgyu hopped onto the motorbike and placed the brown paper bag between his legs. you followed, sitting behind him.

"come closer and put your arms around me, you'll feel safer, i promise." underneath his hard looking exterior, beomgyu seemed to be so gentle and considerate. "please, don't be shy."

you moved closer and did as his said, wrapping your arms around his waist so that your chest was flush against his back.

"that's better." he smiled in approval, though you couldn't see. "are you ready?"

"i'm still not convinced that i'm not on a one way trip to my death." you half-joked.

beomgyu laughed with you before replying, "hold on tight, okay?"

your arms drew tighter around his waist as beomgyu revved the engine and sped off down the now quiet streets. your hair was safe underneath the helmet, but beomgyu's was caught in the wind and would surely be tangled when you arrived at your destination.

the street lights blurred past and became few and far between as you strayed further away from town and along the coastal road. the smell of the ocean was mixed with the scent of grass and trees—that dense, lush nature smell.

you didn't get out of town much, never really having a reason to, so it was exciting to have a change of scenery for once.

"you good back there?" beomgyu called back over his shoulder.

your heart was full. you hadn't had this much fun in forever. it felt nice to be physically close to someone, to hold a conversation with someone besides customers, and to do something other than read books after clocking off for the night.

"yeah!" you smiled and beomgyu could hear the grin in your voice. that, in turn, made him happier.

soon enough, beomgyu began to slow down and came to a smooth stop at the edge of a forest. he hopped off the motorcycle and offered his hand to you as you did the same.

you unclipped the helmet and passed it back to him, allowing him to hang it over the handlebars.

"now, i know how this looks." he prefaced, "but i promise with my whole entire heart that i'm not going to—"

"—kill me?" you laughed, copying the way he'd predicted your words earlier. "it's okay, i believe you."

he sighed, wiping his brow dramatically with relief. "let's go then, we're nearly there." he picked up the brown paper bag in one hand and secured your hand in the other.

the moon emitted a soft light that was bright enough for the two of you to have confidence in your footsteps.

beomgyu was leading you along a forresty path that was gradually increasing its incline, though it wasn't too unbearable and your adrenaline from the motorbike ride was pushing you on.

shortly, you came to a small clearing, from which you had a breathtaking view of the moonlit ocean. you were quite high up, able to see the way the moon glistened off the surf.

"how often do you come here?" you managed to ask, still amazed at the view.

"oh, you know, just when i want to get laid." he said flatly with a shrug.

you laughed, not sure if he was entirely joking.

"honestly, i come here a lot, maybe once or twice a week? more so in the summer." he said truthfully, taking a seat at the picnic table in the middle of the clearing. "it's weird, i've never seen anyone here before, but it's a public area, got a trail and all leading right to it."

"maybe because you're here at," you checked the time on your phone, "11:03pm."

beomgyu laughed again, he found himself doing that a lot in your presence, something he didn't do a whole lot with anyone else.

it was a thick, hearty laugh, you'd noticed. almost like honey to your ears. you were very quickly growing fond of it.

"can't argue with that." he said. "i do love it here though."

"i can see why." you sat on the table with your feet on the bench, next to beomgyu who was pulling out a few beers from the brown paper bag he'd carried all this way.

"that's what you ran late for?" you teased, picking up a beer.

"in my defense i couldn't work out if you were a beer person or a wine person." he raised his hands in surrender.

"so why'd you go with beer?" you asked, twisting off the cap.

he hesitated and a sheepish smile crept onto his face, "because i'm a beer person."

the two of you laughed once more.

"to be honest with you i'm usually more of a wine person, but i don't mind a beer." you confessed, taking a sip.

"maybe next time we can get a bottle of wine." he proposed, opening his own bottle.

"you think there'll be a next time?" you asked.

beomgyu noticed your voice went shy and quiet like it was earlier when he first called you beautiful, and when he arrived to pick you up. he also then realised you'd become a little more chatty and a little more bold over the last hour. he was happy to feel you warming up to him and leaving behind your waitress persona.

"i can only hope so." he replied, gazing up at you.

you softly smiled back at him.

if angels were real, beomgyu had every reason in that moment to believe you one.

the soft moonlight on your features made you look celestial, like you were radiating an opalescent glow.

"cheers, then." you said lightly, clinking your beer bottle with beomgyu's. "is there anything else in the bag?" you motioned with your pinky finger.

"actually yes," he put down his beer and pulled out a pack of cherries. "they're in season, so i couldn't resist."

you gasped, "i love cherries, these look great. can i have one?"

"of course you can," beomgyu opened the lid and offered the pack, "here."

you picked one from the bunch and popped it into your mouth as beomgyu took out the last thing from the bag.

"want one?" he asked, taking a cigarette from the box and placing it between his lips before pulling a lighter from his jacket pocket.

you shook your head.

"will it bother you?"

you shook your head again, spitting the cherry pip straight out ahead of you.

"that's certainly one way of doing that." he chuckled as the the pip flew over his shoulder.

the two of you flourished in each other's company. as you continued to drink and chat, you found that beomgyu was easy to be around. he listened well, nodding along as you found yourself talking more than you had in your entire life. you weren't used to having such an opportunity, not usually spending time with anyone besides your workmates. you learned a lot about beomgyu as he shared information about himself where relevant. beomgyu had a voice similar to his laugh that was deep and hearty. you were quite content listening to him talk as well.

beomgyu never wanted this moment to end. he wanted to hear every detail of your life, all your hopes for the future, your deepest desires, your biggest regrets, everything and anything, he wanted to know about. he found you extremely endearing as he began to notice little quirks of yours, spitting the cherry pips, placing a hand on your heart when you laugh too hard, and the one that sent his heart racing more so than the others, leaning forward attentively with your chin in your hands when he spoke.

soon, the beer was all gone, the cherries were nothing but pits and stems littered around you, and beomgyu was lighting another cigarette.

"getting bored yet?" beomgyu asked jokingly, nudging your leg with his elbow.

but you answered sincerely, "not at all. right now, i don't ever want to go home."

he hummed in pretend thought, "does that rule my place out?"

you raised your brows at him, "i see what you're getting at here."

beomgyu hadn't realised how his question had sounded until you made that comment.

"well that's not what i meant." he ran a flustered hand through his hair, not wanting you to think he was some sleazy guy.

you laughed, "i know, i know." you playfully pushed his shoulder. "does the offer still stand despite that?"

his eyes met yours, wide, like he didn't quite catch what you'd said.

"don't you get all shy on me now mr. 'and when do you get off?'"

"i'm not shy!" he said in defense, "i just," he took a drag, "i don't want you to think that this is something i always do, that you're one of many. when i saw you this afternoon, i don't know, something was telling me i couldn't just leave without saying something."

beomgyu couldn’t believe how cheesy he sounded, but he really had a point to prove, so he endured it.

you on the other hand, were filled with butterflies. elation was the only word that could begin to describe how you felt. somewhere, deep down, you still didn’t believe the boy smoking in front of you to not be a sleaze, but in this moment, your self respect was no where to be found.

you leaned forward and stole the cigarette resting between beomgyu's lips. he frowned for half a second, brows knitting together and eyes meeting yours in confusion, until you leaned even closer and placed a kiss right where the cigarette had been not a moment ago.

you went to pull away but beomgyu only pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. his hands held your face for a moment before travelling down your body. he tasted of cigarette, a taste that was foreign to you, but not unwelcome.

beomgyu couldn’t comprehend a single thought, he felt dizzy. the faint scent of your perfume that clung to your skin despite the heat, the sweetness of your lips and the lingering taste of cherry, the feel of your hand threading through his hair, it was all overwhelming.

“you…” he breathed against your lips, “you shouldn’t of done that.”

“why not?” you kissed just below his ear.

he hummed. “don’t play coy with me.”

“let’s just get out of here.” you smiled, pleased with the effect you’d had on beomgyu.

————

the walk back to the motorbike was tense, beomgyu was exercising a lot of self control in keeping his hands to himself, as were you.

the drive back was much worse. beomgyu’s mind was clouded, he couldn’t think about anything but the feel of your lips on his. his entire body was in flames, especially with your arms wrapped around his torso. he noticed your were less tense than on the ride up, and he couldn’t help but feel happy that you’d grown comfortable to be close with him.

you directed him back to your place and he walked you to the door, ever the gentleman.

“so,” you smiled up at beomgyu, standing just inside your house, “thanks for a good time, beomgyu. goodnight.”

he nodded, taking in your beautiful moonlit features one more time for the night, because whether you liked it or not, he’d be back again sooner or later.

“goodnight, y/n.” beomgyu turned to leave.

“i’m joking, get in here!” you pulled him back, kissing him yet again.

“you’re too much for me.” he smirked, lifting you off the ground.

“you’re telling me you don’t want this right now?” you whispered teasingly, however, you also wanted to check that you hadn’t misread his feelings.

“quite the opposite actually.” beomgyu said, carrying you inside and shutting the door behind him.

————

that night was the first of many.

beomgyu was always there at 10pm to pick you up, no matter what, and from there the night began.

he came prepared with wine the next time, and cherries again, insisting that you might as well enjoy them while they’re in season.

sometimes you went back to the clearing on the cliff from the first night. but you ventured around more now, exploring new areas.

your concerns of beomgyu being a one night stand guy drifted away and were soon replaced with the fear of simply being his summer fling.

but when you heard the rev of a motorbike outside your work at 10pm on march 1st, you somehow knew this was forever.

#txt #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt ff #txt drabbles #txt beomgyu #tomorrow x together #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu ff #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #txt scenarios

[bellaramseysgf]

Tavern (Marauders)

Warning(s); Possesive Boys <3,Smut! (piv sex),Polyamory,Foursome (M/M/F/M), Dom! Remus,Dom!Sirius,Dom!James,Sub! Reader,Rough sex,Dumbifaction kink,Choking kink,Oral fixation,Overstim,Daddy kink + More

Pairing(s); Poly! Marauders x Girlfriend! Reader.

Summary; you got a summer job at a tavern near the black’s house. You didn’t expect your boyfriends reaction to your uniform.

A/n; I’ve nothing to say other then you’re welcome! Also, can my posts like show up in tags pls??

Wanna be Tagged? Click here for my HP taglist

Or click here for my regular taglist

••••••••••••

Your boyfriends knew of your job, they had for awhile. It was a few weeks into summer break and you had all decided to stay at Siri’s house over it. Lucky for you he lives close to town so it was rather easy to find a summer job in town. However your boyfriends hadn’t seen your work uniform,they were always at the lake or asleep by the time you left or came home.

That was until today.

The set of friends had been out in town all morning joking around and window shopping really. They knew you worked at the tavern about a block ahead they planned on surprising you for days now it just happened to work out now.

“I think she’s gonna be very excited” James said with a smile as he walked holding Remus’ hand. “Yeah? I think she’ll be very excited” he agreed and Sirius pushed open the glass door at the front of the restaurant.

“Hi boys! How can I help ya?” James’ mouth almost dropped at what the hostess was wearing. The short plaid pattern dress barely covered anything, the boys all looked at each other. There’s no way you’d wear that..Right?

“Ah, we are here to see y/n” the host nodded “I’ll go grab her, just a sec” the girl walked off and the three men all let out a breath. “Okay there’s just no way she’s managed to walk past us wearing that is there?” Sirius asked and his boyfriends both shook there head.

Yet and still, there you came walking out in a red plaid pattern dress, white puffy sleeves and a ribbon hanging form your middle. “Hey loves” you said smiling at them only for them to all three narrow their eyes at you. “What..?” You questioned your boyfriends. “Y/n! I’m not paying you to stand around and talk!” Your manager yelled and you turned to look back at him nodding. “Yes, Sir” you said before turning back to your boyfriends “guys, I love you but I have to-” you let out a soft yelp as Remus grabbed a hold of your arm dragging you from the tavern.

“Wha- rem you’re gonna get me fired!” You squealed and tried planting your feet but Sirius didn’t like it so he promptly scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder. You squirmed “put me down! Guys! Stop- I’m- you’re gonna get me fired!!” You whined hitting sirius’ back.

Eventually you went limp and sighed as you you were carried all the way back to the house “I’m gonna loose my job you assholes!” You huffed as they sat you down and closed the front door. “We don’t give a fuck about your job sweetheart” Remus huffed. “What the fuck are you wearing?” James growled out. You stumbled backwards into the house as the three men surrounded you pushing you back.

Your back hit the sofa in the living room and you were pinned in against it in a matter of seconds. Sirius stood in front of you Remus to your right and James to your left. “Do you think you’d get away with showing off what’s ours? You should know better then that pup.” His hand was out and gripping your neck, not painfully but enough to make your head cloud up.

“You’re ours baby, we just need to remind you that you don’t show off what belongs to us.” Remus grumbled as his lips attached to your jaw bitting at the skin. “Now, be a good girl and bend over.” Sirius muttered as he was already spinning you around and pressing you over the back of the sofa.

Your head was completely gone at this point the sensitivity of your body was on max and they were still refusing to stop. “Daddy I can’t!” You sobbed as Sirius’ hips were driving you towards your 13th orgasm of the day. “Awh, you can do it sweetheart, just one more” James cooed thumb rubbing over your pink & sweat covered cheek.

‘Just one more’ was what he said on your 6th orgasm. “I’m…I’m sorry” you whined your eyes trailing to Remus who was sat down In a arm chair his right leg crossed over his left as he watched the two men push you past oblivion. “Remmy” you whined and all you could hear was a chuckle. “Awh, sweet girl look at you calling for help. You think he’s gonna help? Such a stupid pup” sirius huffed as his thrusts only got harder.

Your stomach was tightening there was no way you could make it. Your legs and hips burned and you looked up at James with pleading eyes. “You close baby? Is that it?” you whined reaching for him but he just clicked his teeth and pushed you back down on the couch. “Be a good girl and cum for us again” you shook your head “T-there’s no way” you sighed. The creak of the chair made your eyes dart up to Remus who was now standing and pushing James from his spot next to you.

Remus’ hand gripped your chin forcing you to hold eye contact with sirius as he crouch down next to your head. “You’re gonna cum. You’re gonna clench that sweet little pussy around him and you’re gonna cum. Do I make myself clear?” You whined and his grip tightened “Do I make myself clear?” You nodded as best you could and Remus smiled. “Good, now fucking cum before we make you.” Your body answered to his request.

Your back arched and you fought to keep the eye contact with your boyfriend as you clenched around his cock like your life depended on it. You sighed when the last few waves simmered out, your back hit the sofa with a thud and you sighed thighs going slack around your boyfriends waist.

“See? You’re a good girl. Just need a little bit of a push.” Sirius grunted and you felt warmth coat your insides once again. Sirius pulled from you once again to move so James could takes his place. “No…no please I’m sorry I’ll quit I’ll…I’ll do anything not again” you whimpered and they all just chuckled at you. “Awh love, we don’t want you to quit” James said “we will just make sure you’re nice a stuffed before you leave so no one will even think to look at you.” James growled out before thrusting into you in one fluid motion.

“Jamie!” You squealed and it hurt, it honestly hurt to have someone inside you for the 6th time that day, but it still felt good, the pain was always quickly replaced with overwhelming pleasure. “Jamie…Jamie..” that’s all you could do just chant his name over and over. Your brain was gone there’s now way you could form words anymore.

“Look at you darling,so stupid. Think you can give us another? Know you can baby. You will okay? Just one more, promise” Remus placed soft kisses to your cheek and jaw. You were unbelievably tired and you knew even if you passed out the chances of the stopping were slim.

“That’s it baby, Atta girl just get lost in it.” Remus cooed softly. Sirius dropped his fingers to rub over your swollen clit and you squealed hips bucking trying to get away from it. That was the final straw, tears began pouring down your cheek and you shook your head “no…” you whined and Remus carefully pulled sirius’ hand away. “S’Too much Remmy, too much” he nodded “I know doll, it’s okay. I’m right here”

James worked you through another orgasm and another before he came himself filling you up once again. “No more….” You sighed and Remus chuckled “no more baby, it’s okay.” Your eyes closed and you felt a warmth between your legs before you completely blacked out.

“Poor thing” Sirius cooed as he wiped your thighs and cunt clean. Remus stayed crouched next to you softly combing his fingers through your hair. “Is she really gonna get fired?” James asked and Sirius shook his head “no prongs,no she won’t” James seemed relived. “Let’s get her changed and cleaned up. She’ll be sore when she wakes up” Remus instructed as he tugged on the small red ribbon that hung from your middle.

***

You woke up still laid on the couch in one of remus’ shirts instead of your uniform. You groaned a bit as pain shot up from your hips into yours spine as you sat up. You didn’t feel sticky or wet so you knew they must’ve wiped you up. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at a clock on the wall seeing it was just after 10 pm.

“Your awake” you smiled when you heard James next to you. “Hi bub” you said and he sat down next to you. “You alright? We were kinda mean” you nodded “are you okay?” You asked and James nodded “thank you for asking sweetheart” you hummed. “You want Moony?” He asked knowing you normally attach yourself to him after sex,he had a soft and sweet nature and it brought you comfort. You hummed and nodded softly.

James left to find your other boyfriend and Sirius walked in as he left. “Hey puppy. You alright? Need some Tylenol?” He asked and you shook your head “M’okay” you assure your boyfriend with a smile. “Prongs gone to find moony?” He asked and you nodded. “Come here pup” Sirius said as he sat down patting his lap. You quickly walked over to him crawling into the comfort of his arms.

After a few minutes your other boyfriends walked back inside and you whine instantly when you saw Remus “Remmy” you reached out for him and he lifted you from Sirius’s lap. “Hi bunny, you feeling better?” He asked and you nodded clinging to him and you hid your face in his neck to breathe his scent in.

“You’re a good girl bunny,such a good baby for us”

#fem reader #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius black x remus lupin #sirius black x female reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin #remus x you #james potter #james barnes smut #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n

[violettduchess]

A/N: Silvio won the first poll for my and @aquagirl1978's Summer Days Sultry Nights CCC 💜

The winning prompt was "Garden Party"

Fluff

WC: ~1k

Everything must be in its place. It absolutely must be perfect and it is up to you to do your duty as host, making a final pass through the small, side garden of the palace you have chosen for your party,  ensuring everything is up to your very exacting standards. The bushes have been decorated with paper flower garlands that you painstakingly spent hours folding last night and earlier this morning. Tiny little bursts of blue and white color that liven up the deep green foliage, bringing a welcome burst of his favorite colors to the setting. Perfect, you think as you nod to yourself and then head toward the table.

Your heart swells with pride and a sense of self-satisfaction. You chose everything yourself: from the sky-blue tablecloth shot through with silver thread that sparkles in the sunlight, to the white dishes with their delicate pink seashell decorations around the rim. You even chose real seashells from your beloved collection and scattered them artfully across the table. A stroke of genius, if you do say so yourself.

Now one more slow, discerning walk around to double check the place cards is necessary. The guests you invited are a lively bunch. They would have to be in order to keep Silvio Ricci entertained. However they don’t always get along with one another. Lady Crabb must be seated quite far away from Signore Orso and neither of them can stand the chatty ballerina, Mademoiselle Cheveux Roses. Really, it was quite the headache finding them all suitable seating.

But you managed and best of all, you took the time to decorate his chair at the end of the table. Blue and silver ribbons are tied around the legs and along the top rail, making sure everyone knows that this is the seat for the Prince of Benitoite, your guest of honor who has been away for days on royal business.

A voice calls your name and you turn to see Carlo approaching, nodding his dark head of curls in greeting. 

“You wished to be informed when the cakes were done.”

The cakes!

“Thank you Carlo!” 

And you are gone, dashing up the garden path and bursting into the kitchen where the cook and several other kitchen staff are carefully lining up the bite-sized raspberry-lemon cakes you had helped bake earlier onto a silver tray. Your smile is brighter than the delicate lemon curl decorations on each one. The cook is nestling a ripe raspberry amid each yellow ribbon and sneaks you one before stepping back, smiling warmly.

“Are they to your liking, Signorina?”

You nod excitedly. “They’re perfect!” Carlo reaches over and lifts the heavy tray, carrying it back out to the garden while you follow slowly, each step very careful as you are carrying two small pitchers, one with coffee and one with tea. Knowing him, he’ll probably prefer coffee but you want to have both ready, just in case.

A small trilling sound comes from Carlo’s gray vest and he reaches inside, pulling out his silver pocket watch.

“Four o’clock.” 

You beam at him, excitement coursing through you like bubbles in a glass. Quickly you smooth down your dress, making sure there are no wrinkles in the soft, ocean-blue silk. Four o’clock. He said he would be back then, done with his travels and able to return home. Now you hear the faint chiming of the church bells, marking the hour with four resounding chimes in a row that reach you over the palace walls.

The sound fades into silence and you frown slightly as you glance at Carlo who offers you a reassuring smile. 

He said he would be here……

And then you hear the creak of the garden gate and like a dream, Silvio is there, striding across the path as quickly as his long legs will take him. You light up like a firecracker set to burst as soon as you spot him. A cannonball unleashed, you take off towards him.

“Papa!!”

Silvio kneels down, opening his arms to catch you, nearly falling backwards at the force of your hug. He scoops you up into his arms, lifting you high off the ground and hugs you back just as tightly.

“Piccola,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He smells like the sea, fresh and salty and you hug him once more, just because you can, before wiggling for him to put you down.

You slide your hand into his, your fingers curling tightly as you pull him towards the table. “Come, Papa. I’ve arranged a whole party to welcome you back from your business. Mama will be here too as soon as she is done feeding the baby.”

Carlo follows you both, a puzzled expression on his face. He speaks quietly, only for Silvio's ears. “The meeting ended early enough for you to be here on time?” The merchants Silvio had gone to speak with on a tiny, nearby island were notorious for being long-winded. The prince lowers himself onto his beautifully decorated seat, shrugging one shoulder.

“I told them I had an appointment with an extremely important royal that I had to keep.” He turns his gaze to you and you’re beaming. 

"Guarda qui papà, I've placed you close to me and Signore Orso. Do you see the gold bracelet around his paw? It looks like yours! Mama gave me one of her older necklace chains and I wound it around until it fit!”

Carlo slowly steps away from the garden party planned by the young princess for her father, watching with a soft smile as Silvio listens to her chattering on, nodding intently at everything she tells him. To think this is the same man who would snarl and bark his way through this very palace like an animal, hiding any tender part of himself behind sharp words and gnashing teeth.

And then he fell in love with an extraordinary woman who took his heart into her capable hands, cradling it and protecting it.

And then you, little princess, were born and he fell even further into a love as wide and deep and endless as the ocean. 

Which leads to this moment, right now, as Silvio Ricci, practically glowing under the light of the summer sun, strokes his daughter’s pale hair with a tender hand and smiles, openly, warmly, murmuring his gratitude as she pours him a cup of lukewarm coffee. 

Tagging: @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio #ikemen silvio #fluff #summer days sultry nights ccc #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

[c-e-d-dreamer]

But I'm Only Looking At You: Part Four

A/N: And we're back to Regency Cassian! And this time, there's no squinting needed for the prompts because Lion Hearted was the original day this fic was meant to be posted back when it was still meant to be just a one-shot and not 5 parts.... Anywho! Hope everyone has been enjoying @cassianappreciationweek and this fic. As a warning, this chapter is NSFW ;)

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

It’s over a week of being in Glasgow before Nesta wakes up to sunlight streaming through the windows, golden streaks dancing across the floors and the blankets on the bed. The bright, early morning light paints the gardens and the blue skies above in soft hues, the faintest hint of fog still yet to be chased away.

The gloomy gray clouds and rain had stuck around longer than Nesta would have liked, clinging to the skies with a stubbornness that she swore rivaled her own. It had certainly matched the gloominess in the manor at least.

If she and Cassian weren’t screaming at one another, it was tense silence scraping its nails down their skin, burrowing into the expanse between them and stretching it wider still. Most days, it left Nesta feeling untethered, lost in those roaring waves that separate them. It seemed the only thing missing was claps of thunder, but even the weather seemed hesitant to mirror their sharp words.

With more energy than she’s had in days, Nesta throws the blankets off her legs and clambers out of bed. She steps on light feet closer to the window, eying the way the blades of grass twist and dance in the summer breeze. When she finally pulls herself away from the window, she calls for a lady’s maid to bring her a fresh, warm pitcher of water, setting about her morning routine of washing and pulling on a fresh dress.

When she walks downstairs and into the breakfast room, Nesta is surprised not to see Cassian there. Instead, the head of the table is decidedly empty, the member of staff clearing away the dishes the only sign he was ever there. Despite her best attempts to squash the feeling down, disappointment still churns in her gut, still twists and squeezes around her heart.

“I’ll be taking my morning tea in the library, thank you,” Nesta declares before turning on her heel and marching right back upstairs.

Unfortunately, the library doesn’t offer the sanctuary that Nesta is hoping for once she’s inside. Despite being in the large armchair that’s become her favorite, become her chair, Nesta still has to take a deep stuttering breath, still finds herself pressing her hand against her chest to soothe the sting there.

If she closes her eyes, she swears she can feel the slide of gentle fingers down her temple, down her cheek. Swears she can hear the gentle whisper of her name, a caress in that deep timbre. Swears she can feel strong arms slipping beneath her knees, her shoulders, can feel the warm chest she was cradled against as she was carried to bed.

She opens her eyes and spies her book from last night sitting on the tea table, a ribbon caringly placed between the pages so she wouldn’t lose her place. The sight has warmth spreading through her at the same time that ache that’s taken up home between her ribs grows and twinges.

The sound of the library door opening makes Nesta almost jump out of her skin in surprise, her traitorous heart filling with hope for just a moment. She snaps her attention toward it just as Mrs Reynolds steps inside, a tray with tea and toast poised in her hands.

“My lady,” Mrs Reynolds offers, dipping into a small curtsy before setting the tray on the tea table. When she straightens again, she reaches into the pockets of her skirts. “This arrived for you this morning.”

Nesta takes the letter that Mrs Reynolds holds out to her, surprised to see the Archeron family seal pressed into the wax. She turns the paper over in her hand, her breath catching when she sees Elain’s familiar, looping scrawl. She wastes no time breaking the seal and unfolding the paper, barely even noticing the housekeeper seeing herself out.

She devours Elain’s words, all of the updates her sister has provided. Apparently, in the time since Nesta’s marriage and departure to Glasgow, Elain has gotten engaged. Nesta always knew that Elain had a thing for Duke Helion’s only son. It was one of the things she was worried about after Cassian had so thoroughly ruined the Archeron name, that Lucien wouldn’t sully his own family’s name, that he’d stop his courting, but it seems the Duke’s son didn’t care and asked for Elain’s hand anyways.

Nesta can’t help but smile as she continues to read, at how Lucien simply laughs any time someone dares bring up that they think he’s making a mistake, when they try to warn him off. Honestly, if anyone should be reconsidering, it’s me because he can truly be such a rake sometimes. But I love him anyways. The last line has Nesta chuckling softly, pressing a hand against her mouth.

She flips to the next page of Elain’s letter, learning about how Cassian’s friend from school, Rhysand, of all people has started calling on Feyre more often, clearly intent on courting her. But with each new sentence that Nesta reads, the looping letters of Elain’s scrawl start to blur more and more, tears slipping free past Nesta’s eyes and splashing down onto the page until she has to set the letter down lest she completely ruin the ink.

She presses her knees against her chest, against the pressure building there, against the way her heart seems to writhe and crack between her ribs, and lets out a stuttering breath. Her mind feels like a jumble of emotions, threads tangling tighter despite her best attempts to unravel the mess.

She can’t stop thinking about when her mother told her about Tomas’s proposal, how when Nesta tried to tell her no, her mother reminded her that Tomas’s title would save them. Save their family. Save her sisters. Nesta could save her sisters. She can’t stop thinking about when her mother found Cassian’s letters that night, the way her mother laughed in her face and told her that love was for fairytales, not ladies, before tossing them into the fire. She can’t stop thinking about when they got back home after the failed wedding with Tomas, when her mother had spat and shouted at her. Told her she was a failure, that she’d failed her sisters, that Elain and Feyre would end up on the streets now, no better than common whores. She can’t stop thinking about the way Elain had cried that night.

And now both her sisters are perfectly well. Elain is engaged to the son of a Duke, and if Rhysand has his way, soon, Feyre will be engaged to a Duke. It fills her with such immense relief, knowing that her sisters will be okay, that despite everything that’s happened, they aren’t ruined. That she hasn’t ruined them, hasn’t been the cause of her sisters’ misery.

But there’s no denying the anger that simmers low in her gut too. If their mother had her way, Nesta would be married to Tomas right now. She would be crumbling under the hands of a cruel man, and it would have all been for nothing because what is a Viscount compared to a Duke? She would have given up happiness and love, a fairytale as her mother said, for what?

Although, perhaps, she’s already given up happiness and love anyways.

Because beneath the relief, beneath the anger, it’s regret that sinks its claws in and twists. She’d been so frightened for Elain and Feyre’s fate, so furious at the way that Cassian hadn’t even cared about the repercussions of his decision, that she’d pushed him away. She’d ignored him and snapped at him and threw cruel words at him and burned and burned and burned. She burned herself from the inside out with that fiery rage. She burned the bridge between her and him. She burned it all until here she stands, in the ashes, cold and alone with a letter from Elain and nothing else.

With a determined huff, Nesta scrubs her hands down her cheeks and straightens her spine. She swipes her forgotten book off the tea table, tucking Elain’s letter neatly inside the cover, and strides out of the library. Her heartbeat starts to thunder in her chest as she makes her way downstairs, but when she reaches the ground level, the manor is quiet. Too quiet. Her eyes flicker toward the door that leads to Cassian’s study, and it’s a sinking realization that he must be at the factories again today.

She swallows hard around her hurt and annoyance, letting out a quiet scoff that seems to echo through the quiet hall. Just her luck. Perhaps, this is the Mother’s way of punishing her. Determined to at least take advantage of the nice weather, Nesta turns on her heel and heads for the bowels of the manor instead. She glances around when she reaches the kitchen, her mouth twisting as she considers her options.

“My lady?” Nesta whips around to find Michael, the cook, watching her curiously, his hands buried up to the elbow in a large bowl of dough. “Can I help you find something?”

“I was planning to take advantage of the sunny weather,” Nesta explains. “And I’ll admit I was hoping to take a treat with me to enjoy while I read.”

Michael offers her a friendly smile and a nod. “Of course. I will have someone bring something out to you.”

“How will they know where to find me in the gardens?”

“Will you not be under the willow tree?”

Nesta’s heart skips a beat, the breath stolen straight from her lungs. “There’s a willow tree on the grounds?”

“Aye. Cassian was still a young lad when he had it planted. He said it was for someone special.”

Nesta doesn’t even know what to say to that, words and emotions clogged in the back of her throat. Somehow, she’s able to nod her head in thanks. She heads out of the kitchen and out of the manor house, winding her way through the gardens until she finds where the willow tree stands, leaves and branches gently swaying in the summer breeze.

Her steps are slow as she walks closer, hand reaching out to slide along the bark. For someone special. Nesta can’t help but smile as she thinks back to the willow tree near the stream by her family home. It was her favorite place to sneak off to. A place where her mother couldn’t bother her with more lessons, a place where she could read, a place where she could relax and be herself without any expectations or worries weighing her down.

Cassian would always find her there.

Sometimes they would tease each other back and forth. Sometimes they would talk. Sometimes he would just sit there beside her while she read her book. It was there that Cassian found her after one of her grandmama’s particularly harsh lessons before the older woman passed, gentle fingers helping to wrap her hand. It was there that he told Nesta about the letter he received from his father, about the news of his mother, Nesta sitting with her head on his shoulder to comfort him.

Nesta swallows hard and shakes her head of the memories. She settles in the grass beneath the tree, tucking her knees up to her chest and balancing her book there. As she opens up to her last page, she lets the memories, the emotions of the day, the world, fade away. The only thing there is is the sun high in the sky, the rays of light breaking through between the leaves and branches to create a kaleidoscope of gold. All there is is the breeze that tickles across her cheeks and ruffles the stray strands of her hair. All there is is the characters and the story splashed in ink across the pages of her book.

“Hello, Nes.”

Nesta’s head snaps up from the chapter she was engrossed in at the sound of that voice. She finds Cassian standing in front of her, a small, almost nervous smile tugging up the left side of his lips. There’s a basket clutched in one of his hands, and he uses the other to push his fingers up and through his hair.

“I should have known I’d find you here,” Cassian continues, stepping forward beneath the canopy of the willow tree. He settles in the grass beside her and places the basket down near their legs, removing the cloth that’s been draped over the top and revealing a chocolate tart. “I was given very strict instructions from Michael to bring this to you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Nesta tells him, closing her book and setting it aside.

“I wanted to.”

Cassian pulls out a small plate from the side of the basket, setting it neatly in the space between them. He grabs the knife tucked into the basket next, cutting a piece of the chocolate tart and placing it on the plate. Nesta’s eyebrows dip in confusion as she eyes the slice, the larger than normal serving size of it.

“Are we sharing?”

Cassian chuckles quietly, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging up his lips. “We both know that if I ever try to steal a bite from your chocolate treat, you’d chop my hand off. Just for you, sweetheart.”

“It’s quite a large piece.”

“Chocolate is your favorite.”

He says the words so matter-of-factly, so simply, and Nesta can feel all those emotions from before bubbling back inside her again. All that relief and anger and regret, it twists in her stomach and squeezes through her chest. She still remembers all those times her mother would scold and remind her of the expectations of a good wife. Still remembers seeing Lady Mandray in town, the almost gaunt look to her face, the implication, the promise of the future clear. Still remembers when the Mandrays came over for dinner after the engagement was announced, the shameless comments her mother and Lady Mandray had made right then and there in front of her.

Nesta doesn’t even realize she’s started to cry again until Cassian’s hand reaches up, his touch so gentle, so warm as his palm cradles her cheek. His thumb slides across her skin, catching the tear that slipped free.

“Nes…” Cassian whispers, his voice almost pained. “I’m sorry. You came out here to be alone, for some peace and quiet, and I’m ruining it.”

Cassian pulls his hand back, and Nesta feels the loss like a crack through her chest, the cold needling at that spot on her cheek in the absence of his warmth. Cassian starts to clamber to her feet, and desperation claws at the back of her throat, words tangling into a lump, until all she can do is reach for his wrist, fingers curling into the sleeve of his shirt.

“Please don’t,” Nesta chokes out, not releasing her grip until Cassian settles back into his spot.

Cassian sighs softly, his hazel eyes swimming with sadness, with wariness, with shame, as he watches Nesta. “I’m still sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. For all of it. I’d take it all back if I could.”

Those words have Nesta’s stomach sinking as she whispers, “do you regret it then?”

“No… I don’t know… I just…” Cassian lets out another soft breath, reaching up and dragging his thumb along her bottom lip. “I’d give anything to see you smile again. Just once. I told myself I was okay with you hating me forever as long as it meant you were safe, but I think it might be killing me.”

“I don’t actually hate you,” Nesta promises quietly. “I could never hate you.”

Nesta gently pulls Cassian’s hand away from her face, but she doesn’t let go of it, settling their joined hands instead in her lap. She traces the lines and calluses across his palm with the tip of her finger, the touch grounding, keeping her steady, as she finds her courage, finds her words.

“My family lost everything right before the season started. There was a bad storm, and my father’s ships went down at sea, with everything on them. It left us with nothing. We barely had enough to pretend nothing was amiss and get through the season, and Tomas is a Viscount. He could save us. I could save Elain and Feyre so they didn’t end up on the streets. It’s all I could think about it. I was willing to do anything if it meant my sisters would be alright. And I didn’t know how to say all that in a letter, to explain it, so I simply never wrote back after your last one arrived, and I hoped you would simply move on, that you'd forget about me, but then you showed up anyways, and still all I could think about was Elain and Feyre and what it would mean for them, what would happen to them.”

“Nesta, I swear I—”

“But I received a letter from Elain this morning. The Duke, Helion, his son, Lucien, has proposed to her. It sounds as if he’s quite smitten and doesn’t care about anything that’s happened. And apparently, your friend, Rhysand, keeps calling on Feyre.”

Cassian’s free hand tilts Nesta’s chin up, forcing her gaze back on his face and his growing grin. “So, it’s all worked out then. No more worries for that pretty little head of yours.”

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I love how much you care for your sisters,” Cassian explains, shifting his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Because you said that you don’t hate me.”

“It's you that should hate me. I said some awful things to you.”

“You think I care about that? It’s all part of our witty repartee.”

Nesta huffs fondly but still annoyed. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Cassian assures her. He moves the plate between them out of the way, his hands curling around Nesta’s ankles and tugging her closer until her legs are draped over his lap. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years. And I’m going to keep loving you for years to come no matter what you throw at me. I told you, I can take it.”

Nesta smiles softly, reaching her own hand up to trace the scar that runs through Cassian’s eyebrow, fingers sliding along his cheek and the stubble of hair there before settling her palm along his jaw. “I love you too.”

“Really?” Cassian asks teasingly, his smile especially wide and hazel eyes glinting.

“Stop looking so proud of yourself and kiss me, you idiot.”

“That’s the Nesta I know.”

One of Cassian’s arms wraps securely around Nesta’s waist, his other hand cradling her face. Nesta’s breath hitches in her lungs, and for a moment, she swears she’s not breathing, her heart skipping a beat before it starts to thunder. It’s as if the whole thing happens in slow motion, Cassian leaning in close until his nose bumps hers, until their breaths mingle in the small space between them. The first brush of his lips against hers is sweet, almost tentative, but then he firmly slots their mouths together.

Nesta had often thought about what it might be like to kiss Cassian, but her imaginings were an ill comparison to the real thing. With every slide of their lips together, warmth floods through her chest, sparks ricocheting through her nerve endings all the way down to her toes. Cassian’s arms are a steady, welcomed weight where they’re wrapped around her, and when Nesta buries a hand in the dark curls of his hair, he groans into her mouth, hauling her closer still until she’s fully in his lap.

Nesta settles her knees on either side of his hips, pressing her chest against his and meeting him stroke for stroke. Cassian pulls back enough to press searing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, Nesta releasing a gasping moan when his teeth scrape along her pulse point.

“Cassian,” Nesta pleads, tugging at his hair again.

Cassian groans against her skin, his whole body shuddering at the sound of his name falling past her lips. “You're going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

“Good.”

Nesta uses her grip on his hair to pull him into another kiss, but Cassian laughs against her, nipping at her bottom lip in retaliation.

“Haughty witch.”

Nesta can't help but laugh at the return of the teasing nickname. For a moment, Cassian's eyes widen at the sound, the gold of them so bright, until a soft smile settles easily across his face. Nesta matches that smile with one of her own, happiness light and bursting between her ribs.

“Gods, you're so beautiful,” Cassian says quietly, his voice awed, reverent. “I must be the luckiest man in the whole world.”

Heat creeps up Nesta's neck and she can feel it threatening to spill across her cheeks. Rather than answer, she crashes her mouth back against his. Cassian's grip tightens around her, his tongue slipping past her lips as the kiss deepens. Nesta starts to rock her hips, and she can feel his desire for her nestled against her. It only spurs her on more, chasing the heat building within herself, the friction. One of his arms shift to under Nesta's ass and then Cassian is clambering up to his feet with Nesta hoisted up against him, Nesta letting out a squeal of surprise.

“Cassian, what are you doing? Put me down!”

“Sorry, Nes,” Cassian tells her, moving back toward the manor. “But the things I want to do to you are not proper for the gardens.”

“That doesn't mean you have to carry me. I can walk just fine.”

Cassian makes a big show of sighing dramatically, but he sets Nesta back down. Once her feet touch the grass, he grabs her hand, lacing their fingers together and rushing toward the manor. A few of the staff eye them curiously when they all but burst through the doors, but Cassian doesn't seem to notice or care, leading them up the stairs and to their bedroom.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Cassian is back on Nesta, hands cradling her face and kissing her with a fever that has Nesta's head spinning. Just their mouths pressed together has her melting against him, fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt to hold herself upright. His own fingers slide down from her cheek, along her neck, her collarbones, and a shiver rakes its way up Nesta’s spine in response, goosebumps pebbling across her skin.

Cassian pulls back enough that he can press his forehead to Nesta’s, those fingers tracing along the neckline of her dress and his voice quiet and breathless. “May I?”

Nesta nods her head, stepping back enough that she can turn around. Cassian’s hands make quick work of the stays of her dress, and when the laces are loose enough, Nesta tugs the sleeves down her arms and lets the dress go so it pools at her feet. She goes to turn back around, but the feel of Cassian’s hands in her hair gives her pause. Slowly, he tugs the pins free until her hair falls in soft waves down her back and around her shoulders.

“Beautiful,” Cassian whispers, and Nesta half wonders if he’s speaking to her or to himself.

He gently pulls aside the neckline of her shift, dipping his head down to press a kiss to her exposed shoulder, to the constellation of freckles splashed across her skin there. The touch is so gentle, the gesture so tender, and Nesta’s heart skips a beat even as her blood starts to simmer and warm. She spins back around and presses up onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him properly again. Cassian walks them back until the backs of Nesta’s knees hit the bed, and she breaks away from the kiss to slide up onto the mattress.

Cassian takes a moment to tug his shirt free from his pants, reaching a hand back to fist in the fabric and pull it off. Nesta’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him, her eyes tracing down the expanse of golden brown skin on display. The bulge of his arms. The ridges of his abs. The deep v-lines. The tented proof of his arousal.

“See something you like, Nes?”

Nesta’s eyes snap back up to his face, taking in his wide, cocksure smirk, and rolls her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to…”

Nesta’s words trail off as Cassian suddenly pulls his pants down and kicks them aside, and she has to swallow hard. She’s never seen a naked man before, and Cassian is certainly something else. His thighs are thick, large cock standing hard and heavy between them, the tip already glistening in the low burning candle light.

“You were saying?” Cassian teases, kneeling up onto the bed.

“Always so full of yourself,” Nesta fires back, but the breathless quality to her voice betrays her.

Cassian's hands find home at her shins, sliding up over her knees and pushing the hem of her shift with them. When he looks back up at Nesta, there's a clear question swimming in his gaze, and Nesta answers it, sitting up enough that she can tug her shift up and off. The movement brings their faces close together again, and for a moment, Nesta can do nothing but stare, feels captured in his gaze. The golds and greens of his hazel eyes have melded together around his blown out pupils, hair a tousled mess from her fingers where it falls around his face. And the slow smile that tugs its way across his face, it has her heart skipping a beat.

She wastes no time pulling him back into her, their mouths moving together in what is quickly becoming a practiced dance between them. Nesta leans back down against the pillows, dragging Cassian with her until he's cradled comfortably in the space between her thighs, her legs hooked around his hips and her hands buried in his hair.

One of Cassian's hands slides up to her breast, and Nesta moans into Cassian's mouth as his fingers knead at her flesh. He breaks the kiss to move his mouth's attention to her other breast, tongue swirling around her nipple until she’s practically arching up into him.

Nesta's entire body feels like it's blazing. The graze of Cassian's stubble against her skin, the way he's moving his mouth, she can do nothing but toss her head back and moan, nothing but give in to the electricity sparking through her veins. She gets a small reprieve when Cassian pulls back with a soft pop, but he merely switches to lave attention to her other breast.

“Cassian,” Nesta pleads, nails scraping against his scalp.

She's not even sure what she's begging for, but she knows that she needs more. Cassian, at least, seems to understand her unspoken request. He presses kisses down her sternum, down her stomach, sliding down her body and the bed. His hands slide tantalizingly slow up her legs, goosebumps pebbling across her skin in their wake.

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

Nesta takes a moment, a breath, to try and calm her racing heart. “Yes.”

It's the truth. In the privacy of her bed chambers, particularly late at night, she would sometimes slip her fingers beneath the blankets, between her thighs. Especially when she got her hands on some of Sellyn Drake's more salacious novels. Although, sometimes, she found it difficult to imagine the heroes of those stories. If the hero was a little too blonde. If the hero had blue eyes.

“And who did you imagine?” Cassian dares to ask, his hands sliding up her thighs, so close to where Nesta really wants him.

“If you're expecting me to fuel your ego, you'll be waiting a long time. It certainly wasn't you.”

Cassian's smirk is beautiful, but Nesta bites her tongue around that thought. “Have I ever told you that you're a terrible liar?”

“And you're a terrible tease.”

Cassian chuckles, but his fingers tighten their grip, spreading her thighs wider until she's on full display for him. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re already dripping for me.”

Nesta whines high in the back of her throat, her hips trying to buck up, but Cassian’s hold on her is firm. He dips his head down, hot breath fanning across her, and Nesta is about to make another remark to urge him on, but any words die in the back of her throat when Cassian presses the flat of his tongue against her. He groans, the vibrations skittering all the way down to her toes, and then he absolutely devours her.

His tongue alternates between swirling around her clit and licking long thick stripes, and Nesta can do nothing but hold on. She rocks her hips against his face, pressing closer still, and uses the hand in his hair to keep him where he is, but from the way he moans and groans against her, she has a strong suspicion that Cassian is right where he wants to be already.

He sucks her clit between his lips, and Nesta practically bows off the mattress, a choked off moan of Cassian’s name tumbling past her lips. He shifts one of his arms so it's draped across her hips, keeping her still. His other hand slides up to join his mouth, and he sinks a finger into her. It's certainly thicker than Nesta's own fingers ever were, but the stretch feels too good, and when he presses in a second finger beside the first, when he curls those fingers, Nesta is sure she's not going to last much longer. Already, she can feel that familiar heat coiling tighter and tighter in her gut, can feel herself climbing closer and closer to that blissful precipice.

He pulls his mouth away to look up at her, fingers continuing to pump in a steady rhythm, and the sight shouldn't be as erotic as it is. His eyes are almost completely swallowed up by his pupils, the hazel color that remains a molten gold. His lips are swollen and pink, a combination of saliva and her arousal smeared around his mouth and through his stubble. The smirk he settles her with is downright devilish, eyes pinned wholly on her as he pointedly licks his lips.

“My sweet wife is better than any chocolate tart or dessert,” Cassian tells her, his voice a deep rasp, before he leans down and licks another thick stripe from where his fingers are buried to her clit, almost as if proving his point.

“Fuck,” Nesta whispers, unable to form any other coherent words. Unable to form any other coherent thoughts. The sensations are somehow too much and not enough. The feel of him. The sight of him. His words.

“You're already so tight around my fingers,” Cassian continues, squeezing in a third finger, eyes tracking the way Nesta arches and keens. “Can feel you squeezing and fluttering around me. Are you close, Nes?”

“Yes,” Nesta moans, her hand reaching down to curl around Cassian's wrist, nails digging into his skin. “Don't stop. Gods, please, don't stop.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg, But I'll bet you look even prettier when you come.” Cassian curls his fingers again, leaning down to drag his tongue over her clit. “Come on, sweetheart. Be my good girl and come all over my fingers.”

The praise finally breaks the last tether. Nesta practically shouts Cassian's name as release tears through her. He works her through it, fingers continuing to move until she melts boneless back into the mattress. He presses sweet and soothing kisses along the inside of her thigh, tracing a path up over her hip bone.

He spends extra attention at her breasts when he reaches them again, languidly swirling his tongue and suckling at the flesh there. It pulls a whine deep from Nesta's chest, her blood already beginning to heat again under his ministrations. When he's finally had his fill, he continues up over her collarbones and to her neck, teeth and lips nipping and sucking at the skin until Nesta is sure she'll have a mark tomorrow.

By the time his mouth finally finds hers, Nesta is practically putty in his hands. She moans at the way she can taste herself on his lips, pressing her tongue against his greedily.When Cassian finally breaks the kiss, both their chests are heaving again, and Cassian rests his forehead against hers, eyes closing as though he needs a moment to gather himself.

“We can stop,” Cassian promises quietly. “We don't have to do anything more. We have time.”

“But I want to,” Nesta assures him, lifting her legs to lock around his hips. “I want you.”

“I'll go slow.”

Nesta reaches her hand between them, palm cradling his cheek. “I trust you.”

Cassian kisses her again, but it's softer, sweeter, every emotion between them seared into that press of lips. It feels right in a way that's as terrifying as it is thrilling. In that moment, Nesta swears a golden thread winds around them, tying her heart as surely to Cassian's as his is tied to hers. In that moment, she swears some part deep within her soul lets out a relieved breath, whispers home. In that moment, she swears she sees those same feelings reflected in Cassian's own eyes.

Cassian shifts his hips and reaches his hand down between them, lining himself up. As promised, he sinks into her slowly, Nesta gasping at the stretch, the fullness. Her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, fingers digging into his back as she tries to get used to the feeling.

“Relax, Nes,” Cassian murmurs, pressing kisses along her neck and kneading at her breast until he draws a moan out of her. “That's it. Fuck, you take me so well, sweetheart.”

Inch by inch, Cassian sinks into her, until their hips are pressed flushed together, until Nesta feels so incredibly full. She clenches down around him, almost testing, and Cassian groans, his head dropping down to her collarbones.

“So big,” Nesta whispers, clenching down around him again.

Cassian chuckles, and Nesta can feel the rumble of it everywhere they're pressed together. “What happened to not wanting to fuel my ego?”

“You’re the worst.”

“You love me, remember?”

“I’d love you more if you’d move,” Nesta bites out, trying to buck her hips up against him.

Cassian lifts his head enough that his lips brush against hers when he speaks again, “So demanding today.”

“Cassian, please.”

“And still so pretty when you beg.”

Despite his teasing words, Cassian pulls his hips back just to press back forward again. The drag has Nesta’s toes curling, has her moaning as she moves her hips to meet Cassian’s every thrust. And yet it’s still not enough. She still needs more, ready to tumble headfirst and give into the fire blazing through her veins and begging to be released.

“Cassian,” Nesta begins, but when Cassian’s movements pause completely, his eyes clouding over with concern, Nesta reaches a hand to run soothingly through his hair. “I won’t break.”

“Fuck me, Nes…” Cassian pushes out between gritted teeth, his words trailing off into a groan.

He crashes his mouth back against hers, fingers digging into her thigh and hiking her leg higher against his waist, and then he starts to snap his hips against hers in earnest. Each press into her is hard and deep, and it’s exactly what Nesta needs, Cassian’s name falling past her lips like a prayer.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you. You feel so good, so perfect.”

Already, Nesta can feel herself racing closer to that edge, but at least Cassian seems to be teetering there with her, his movements beginning to stutter. He reaches a hand between their bodies, finding her clit with ease and moving his fingers in time with his building rhythm.

“Come on,” Cassian continues. “Be my good girl and come around my cock. Want to feel you squeezing me.”

Cassian continues to play her body like an instrument, sending her careening through another orgasm. Cassian works her through it, keeping his hips moving until he presses in deep and stills, warmth spreading through Nesta as he finds his own release.

They continue to lay there, tangled up together as they catch their breath, before Cassian carefully moves off of her. He pads over to the bathing chamber, returning with a damp cloth to clean them both up. Once that’s discarded, he pulls back the blankets and encourages Nesta to slip beneath, sliding into the bed beside her. His arms curl around her waist and tug her close, Nesta shifting until she can comfortably lay with her head pillowed on his chest.

Cuddled up this close together, Nesta can leech all of the warmth that always seems to radiate off Cassian. She can relish in the strength and comforting weight of his arms secure around her. She can hear the beat of his heart beneath her ear. It has Nesta sighing contently, and when Cassian turns his head enough that he can press a kiss to the top of her head, she doesn’t even bother biting back her smile.

“So, what happens now?” Nesta asks, tracing senseless patterns across Cassian’s chest with her fingertip.

“What do you mean?”

“I guess…” Nesta lets out a soft breath, tilting her head so she can meet Cassian’s gaze. “I just spend so much time worrying about Elain and Feyre, so much time being angry, that I almost don't know what to do now.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Cassian assures her, reaching a hand up to gently brush the hair away from Nesta’s face and tucking the strands behind her ear. “You can come to the factories with me. You can spend all day in the library until you've read every book in there.” His expression morphs into that cocksure smirk of his. “We can spend all day here in this bed.”

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly at him. “Spending days on end in bed sounds like a terrible business model.”

Cassian chuckles, the warm sound curling around Nesta’s limbs, but then his face turns serious again, that soft look Nesta knows is only for her flooding through his hazel eyes. “Whatever you want, Nes. I told you all I care about is you, and I meant it. As long as you're here with me, as long as you're happy. That's all that matters.”

Nesta’s smile grows even more at that, her heart fluttering with so much joy, so much love between her ribs. “Cassian MacLeod, the big sap. Who knew?”

“Only for you, Mrs MacLeod.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @girl-of-many-floods @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head

#nessian #CassianAppreciationWeek2023 #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #regency au #my fic

[sugar-omi]

im reading an article about masahisa fukase, who took pictures of his wife every day she left the house. (the book is called "from window"), because i saw *this tweet and started reading replies which led to me reading the article where it explains she divorced him and how he went into a coma for 20 years, where she visited him twice every month.

and let me quote this part to you

He died in 2012, having been in a coma for 20 years following a near-fatal fall down the stairs of his favorite bar in 1992.

Yoko visited him twice a month throughout his long limbo - though, heartbreaking, he would have been unaware of her presence. "He remains part of my identity," she said, adding: "With a camera in front of his eye, he could see; not without."

it also says that he wished to control yoko, and also the world, by taking pictures. hoping to freeze time. and.. imagine this, specifically this quote and fukase's wish, with baxter.

baxter who is so helplessly in love with you. he loves you so much, that he takes every chance to capture your beauty.

he loves every picture of you.

but he's so obsessed with time. with mortality. with you.

he's missed out on so much during his younger years. pulling away from everyone who did love him, pulling away from those who reached out their hand to him.

mostly kept away from genuine, friendly people. they always knew how to pull him in, he was a sucker for kindness and genuineness. like you and your friends, or like qiu, tama, and ren.

tried to please his parents at times, mostly tried to rebel and irritate them. and succeeded, even when he wasn't trying.

so many years wasted.. hiding and running from life's simple pleasures. from friendship and companionship

that's why he keeps taking pictures of you, keeps trying to capture the world in a still state. because maybe. if it freezes for long enough. he can catch up...

but also, if you're always willing to be his muse. always a subject of his work.. then he still has control of himself. his life.

you're a constant. something that always happens without fail.

without fail, before you go to your destination, you're at the bottom of your window, posing for him. making a face. shouting at him.

even if you're upset at him.. you wait under the window while he takes that picture, a frown deep on your lips.

it's not much, but he still has something always in the palm of his hand. and that's you waiting at the bottom of the window.

but he loves you. God he loves you so much. some days you don't take pictures from through the window, he's too sick to get out of bed or he's gone ahead of you.

some days you're upset with him, or running late, and the only picture he takes is your frame running for the bus, the edges of your silhouette fuzzy and blurred.

but he still has pictures of you on your date the next night, and he has pictures of your bare form the night before yesterday.

but he's so busy looking through the camera... changing the setting, wiping his lense, and sorting his photos. that he doesn't notice when summer turns to winter. or winter into next spring. doesn't notice the new lines on your forehead or how your fingers sometimes shake when trying to open a jar

doesn't notice the gray in his hair. not the.. deep gray of his natural hair. but the light gray strikes that turn to ribbons of gray and white.

doesn't notice how dull his wedding ring is from years of wear and lack of polishing. doesn't notice how his favorite dress shoes have scratches and scuffs along the side and tip of the shoe

doesn't notice that his dinner is cold. doesn't notice that you don't hug him back when you go to sleep. doesn't notice your lipstick doesn't stain his cheek when he sleeps, or that your hoodie is too heavy and big on his shoulders.

only notices when the sunlight from the window hits your face perfectly, and he sees the age.

only when you don't smile or tease or shout at him from below the window like before.

only when you ate before him, telling him you couldn't wait for him to take pictures. when you stop talking to him so cheerily. when you stop looking at him with admiration and love, with awe whenever he holds the camera so expertly and insists on having you as his muse

he compares the photos from your youth and he sees happiness, he sees love, and life and he sees his whole world.

now, in some photos, he sees tiredness and aching, defiance. irritation. boredom, even...

your back is to the camera more than before. when you are facing it, your chin is tilted towars your book, or your eyes are closed, sleeping in your fluffy king bed. the light doesn't bounce off your ring like it used to.

the ones of you smiling, laughing at him from the other side, makes his heart thump and clench. he's racing.

but in others you look tired of the camera. your lips aren't frowned, but they aren't smiling either. and your eyes are heavy, not with lust or mischief or drowsiness. it's exhaustion, but it's the mental kind. it's the kind where you're at the end of your rope with this camera forever at the other end of your table

you don't see your husband

you see a camera. the damn camera that haunts you nightly and daily.

of course, there are ones where you smile. you're not entirely miserable.

but instead of seeing his beloved muse, his darling spouse. his hearts treasure.

he sees his treasure on display. in their pretty glass case in the middle of the showroom. he sees a ballerina trapped in her music box, forever spinning to the same tune.

he sees Mona Lisa looking at him through her frame, smiling and revered.

he tries to pull you from that painting. putting on his scuffed dress shoes and that same brown suit from your first date, he sets himself on the other end of you. not the camera.

he can't help but think of how the low lighting of the restaurant would suck to take pictures in right now. that he needs his setup, and he wonders if they'd be willing to let him bring all that to capture the moment here...

but you're twinkling. like you're afraid to sparkle but too enthused not to.

he swallows around the urge to capture time claws at his throat. it's beating down the door to his chest and he's trying to keep it from his aching heart.

he does try.

but when you run ahead to see the ducks on the lake, floating on top of the pearly lake, he can't help that his phone camera finds your form

it's not nearly as good as a real camera. it's pixelated and fuzzy. he has to step closer to get more details

but it's worth it, the way your face is bright and the way the wind blows is unusually perfect, shards of light slip through the cracks of thick leaves overhead

and when you turn your head, wanting him to see the family of ducks on the water, you don't mind the phone in his hand.

if you step into the frame for a moment, return to the stage of your music box, it's okay. because today was beautiful. it was so beautiful.

you sat in bed with him, the only thing between you two, the thin bedsheets and the breakfast tray. and the sand is still between your toes, and your feet are terribly dry from dipping into the sea.

baxter retracing the steps of your second meeting, plus a few extra stops to new establishments youve been waiting to enter, new mueseums and front row to your favorite theater show.

and his hand solid in yours, his eyes stuck on you like glue... so it's okay to let him pet your cheek and kiss you in the middle of this park.

because your heart is beating again with excitement, and you're thrilled with how much you had fun today.

and the next time, when he plans a sudden getaway trip for you two.

it's okay if he points the camera at you. because when you're bored, or teasing, or angry at him. you snatch it from his hands and now you're staring back at pictures of his porcelain face. with the filter on, you notice a new beauty mark under his eye easily, but you never needed it to know. but he did.

and you tuck the only picture he let you keep of his irritated face into your nightstand once you're home, you stick it under the one of him shielding his eyes from the sun and when you open thay drawer, the only thing you see is the top of his head and the birds in the sky.

there's thrills. there's always been moments of thrills. that's why youre in the frame, that's why you're his muse.

but when the day is dull. and most days are dull. some days, a couple more than you'll admit, you are tired of the camera.

some days, you want to smash that camera. smash the camera and bang your fists against his chest, slap his cheeks until he sees without the lenses.

but then he grabs the camera, and he parts your knee for you. tucks that hair behind your ear. folds the cuff of your jeans the way he wants. clasps his jewelry on your neck or wrist

and then you pick up the frame, and immortalize the moment, because even though your heart aches. and aches greatly. you love how he looks at you. how he captures your every move as if you haven't done it a hundred times before...

#this is a very messy ramble #i am sleepy but im mostly HEARTBROKEN BY THE DAMN ARTICLE #anyway... #imma pretend that this long angsty ramble made sense n imma try to sleep and forget abt the damn article 💔💔💔 #olba #baxter ward #angst #ramble #baxter ward x reader