#wear it now like a mantle always there to remind you

[geminison]

Third eye by Florence and the Machine is for dh1 Corvo

#gems' talking #you don't have to be a ghost here amongst the living. you're flesh and blood and you deserve to be loved and you deserve what you are given #cause your pain is a tribute the only thing you let hold you #wear it now like a mantle always there to remind you #I'm biased bc i love Florence so much. but it does fit!

[yanqings]

airing out what kind of issues i have by saying which fatm songs are my favorite lmfao

#CAUSE YOUR PAIN IS A TRIBUTE THE ONLY THING YOU LET HOLD YOU WEAR IT NOW LIKE A MANTLE ALWAYS THERE TO REMIND YOUUU

[mqfx]

whoever put Third Eye - F!atM in a sangcheng playlist I'm kissing you in the mouth

#hewwo #THERES A HOLE WHERE YOUR HEART LIES AND I CAN SEE IT WITH MY THIRD EYE #BECAUSE YOUR PAIN IS A TRIBUTE. THE ONLY THING YOU LET HURT YOU..... WEAR IT NOW LIKE A MANTLE. ALWAYS THERE TO REMIND YOU #CHEWING THROUGH THE BARS OF MY FUCKING TETANUS CAGE #wait a minute why do i have a cut on my hand ✋️aw nuts

[bunicate]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. itto x fem reader already burdened by your small chest, a rumor you happen to overhear makes you reluctantly ask your dear older brother for a helping hand.

warnings ꒱ྀི incest. reader has smaller breasts. tit sucking + minor worship / wc ꒱ 2k / 18+ / I wanted to write a haithy and wrio version as well but da wordz were not coming. can’t believe im writing for dis silly oni omg . . but enjoy pls <3

“don't be so crude, you idiot.”

it doesn’t take much to discern the confusion from his expression. itto had a range of maybe three emotions.

other than his overwhelming display of pride and exuberance, there’s always room for his dumbfoundedness. he’s frequently addled— his face constantly knitted together while his mind searches endlessly to find the answer, at least the one he thinks you want to hear, but he never really does.

“what ? you said you wanted me to help, right ?” he shrugs.

you narrow your eyes.

“I know what I said but you didn’t have to word it like . . . like that .”

like some animal, you want to say but instead you look at your brother in distaste.

too many times you find yourself struggling to accept the gap in your relationship. most people often make the wrong assumption of you being the older sibling and you have to begrudgingly correct them that no, you are in fact the younger and smarter sibling.

why couldn’t he tell that you’re already embarrassed enough as it is ? why do you have to spell it out and add to the duration of your suffering. by now, your cheeks are practically inflamed.

“how else do I ask ? oh , should I add the please ?” he pauses.

“show me your tits, please.”

he offers you a dopey smile of triumph. he’s proud of himself, thinking for once he’s finally appeased you, but he couldn’t be more wrong. so so wrong.

you’re aggressive with your sigh.

you were too smart to ask him of all people. you’re way too intelligent to believe in silly rumors and baseless gossip, but they tangle in the mire of your thoughts.

“if someone sucks on your breasts, they’ll grow !”

“huh ? no way. where did you hear that ?”

it was two women in passing, just talking and having a laugh and yet you can’t stop yourself from just wondering.

you’re not blessed like your brother. the oni towers over you, well over six feet. a mantle of bulging arms, broad shoulders, and thick thighs. he’s as big and intimidating as it gets but that aura quickly dispels every time he opens his mouth.

you on the other hand are thicker in other places, your chest, however . . . not so much.

you look down pathetically and think about all the colored tube tops that just didn’t fit you quite right.

what did you have to lose ? you’re pride maybe. you’re just as prideful as your brother, maybe even more, but the soft slopes of fat poking through your shirt mock you. they remind you that maybe you can afford to throw your ego away. temporarily.

you whine as your patience wears you thin.

murmuring a quick prayer to archons to have them spare you from further embarrassment, you bury your doubts in the back of your mind.

“I hate you.”

you lift your shirt quickly, just ripping the bandaid off.

you expose your breasts to the cool air and to surprised vermillion hues.

the longer he stared, the more you wanted to hide. of all the array of emotions you’ve seen, ( three ) you can’t pinpoint this exact one. it’s new to you. it borders on unbridled warmth, but then after a few seconds of your nipples perking from his gaze, it dithers. . . and then he fucking squints.

“so small.”

there’s a beat of silence and it takes that brief moment to even register that you did not mishear him. you’re not sure what you expected.

itto certainly isn’t the brightest and his emotional intelligence is nearly non-existent, and still, you’re taken aback by his talent to be consistently unaware.

you feel awkward and vulnerable in the middle of the room. you bared yourself to him, your insecurity right to his face, and the only thing he could do was confirm that you are indeed a small-chested oni. it shouldn’t bother you, but it does.

you liked to think you could handle the truth just as much as you bluntly dished it out, but this time you couldn’t.

a flash of white-hot anger runs through you at his audacity. you yank your shirt down eager to hide in your room and cry about your humiliation. you’ll write his name in big stupid letters in your fuzzy-covered journal and call him a big fat meanie. i for idiot, t for trashy , t for terrible, and a big fat o for obtuse.

“asshole !” you scream.

you can tell he’s surprised by your outcry. you glare at him hoping that he would turn to ashes on the spot, but unfortunately, he doesn’t.

he’s too busy panicking. he’s struck with the startling realization that he’s messed up again and that you were pissed.

so many times you’ve stomped your pink heels in anger and strutted away, mini skirt riding up with every step you took. and each time he reacts the same.

he tries to fix it.

he’s quick to react, immediately reaching for you in urgency. “w-wait wait wait wait ! where ya’ going ?”

“ oh, don’t you dare touch me you, oaf ! you think I don’t know that they’re small already ? why would you say that ?! “ you pull away more than desperate to increase the distance from him.

“hey hey hey. calm down, baby sis. m’not making fun of you.”

it takes his hands resting on your shoulders and the worried look in his eyes to make you come to a stop.

you lick your lips and take a shaky breath.

he’s right.

itto is many things but never a bully. he’d never say anything purposefully mean, no matter how much you bad-talked him. he’s kind and loyal but unfortunately, all the brains just happen to go to you .

“I didn’t mean to make ya feel bad,” he says sheepishly. “jus’ think they’re cute, that’s all.”

he releases his grip on you to scratch behind his head, eyes flickering to your chest again. a blush colors his face to a shade of carnations.

you’re a sweet girl with an unfiltered mouth that would bend to no one, not even to the archons themselves. and you were tearing him apart with that pout and your pretty nubs peeking through the fabric of your shirt.

he’s your big brother and he angered you quite a lot but, never deliberately. but this time he’s determined, for once he wants to ease your worries and not add to them.

he stands a bit closer brushing away a saltine tear that regretfully falls.

“If ya still want me to do it, I will. I think . . . it could work if I just do it hard enough.”

you don’t answer him but you don’t think you need to.

he searches your eyes trying to find any sign of disapproval. itto remains unsure, he’s never good at picking up on the small nuances of your emotions and so he tugs at your shirt in uncertainty.

still angry and embarrassed, you look up at his stupidly handsome face and relent.

“jus’ do it you big dummy.”

like everything else you expect him to handle you roughly. to rip your shirt and bite and suck at your nipples until they bruise under his touch, but he does the opposite.

his free hand travels around your sternum at first, surprisingly gentle. his fingers are soft when they circle around your breasts, tenderly flicking the flesh to watch them jiggle. he thumbs at your wide areolas, tracing the tiny bumps in complete fascination.

you grow uncomfortable at how intimate it felt. his eyes are blown wide, drinking up the sight of your tits rising with each shuddered breath.

“d-don’t play with them. jus’ hurry up n’ suck .” you leap at the opportunity to break the tension, but somehow you’ve made it worse.

as soon as the words leave your mouth, he responds just as fast. it nearly knocks the wind out of you when his mouth latches onto your breast.

they’re small but there’s so much flesh , so much chub that itto can’t stop playing with. his tongue laps at your left mound, licking underneath it, licking around it, and sucking at all the fat he can fit into his mouth. he’s noisy, grossly so . he groans and curses each time he has to detach his mouth from your nipple to come up for air.

“pretty tits taste s’good, “ he slurs. he can’t form the words, not when he’s desperate to fondle your breasts with his slippery tongue.

itto squeezes you so tight, it nearly hurts but you couldn’t dare tell him to ease up. there’s something hard rubbing on your lower stomach and you're scared to even dare to think about what it could be.

he slowly drags his rough flesh up and down your mound, shivering when your nipple grazes his appendage. his fingers grope at your waist and hips, palms nearly enclosing your smaller figure.

“f-fuck , you’re tiny. m’not hurting you, am I ?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak, terrified a moan would spill instead, so you shake your head.

he’s over two feet taller than you, pressing you into a corner and he has to remind himself that you’re his little sister. his dainty, spit-fire little sister who’s tits he’s currently mouthing on to rid her of her troubles.

he’d suck long and hard hoping your already perfect tits would someday be perfect to you. he wants to make you proud and show you he’s not just some rowdy oni. he’ll kiss and suck as long as you needed him to.

he tucks your nipple back into his mouth, puckering around the flesh like a sour candy.

you’re as pillowy and as delicate as he remembers. he almost forgot how he sinks into you. how his firm stomach settles into your soft one and he’s painfully reminded that his erect cock has been slowly rutting against you.

sucking your tits was riling him up. it was making him act in that brutish way that you hated, but he was trying so hard to keep from lining his cock with your opening and milking your cunt dry.

the oni has to pull away to gather himself. he takes the time to marvel at his work.

your right bosom is drenched in spit, puffy and swollen from his ministrations. he smiles.

“It looks bigger already, don’t ya think ?“

“shut it !”

another insult dies in your mouth as you're still catching your breath. an oni’s nose is extremely sensitive and you wonder if he could smell the arousal fermenting between your thighs.

“let me do the other one okay, baby. don’t want them to be uneven right ?”

“w-wait itto maybe we should s— eek !”

you need another moment of reprieve but you don’t get the chance. he puts the other tit in his mouth, tongue greedily flicking against the nub which tears a squeal from your lips.

itto is confident his methods will work just as sure as he’s about to blow a load in his pants.

“gonna suck your tits until they fatten up. isn’t that right, little one ?”

you mewl at the pleasure and the softness of which he utters a name he hasn’t called you in years.

“s-stop talking so much ! just be quiet and and —hnnn— stop teasin’ !”

he continues his assault on your chest, cock chubbing against his pants.

“m’sorry,” he slurs. “can’t help it.” his groans are fanning against your chest while he drools on your sensitive peaks. “let nii-nii take care of you . . just relax f’me. . . just take it.”

he’s hard. cums crowns his tip as he keeps conjuring up thoughts of wiping his cock over your tits, rubbing the head around your puffy brown nipple.

you smell good, you taste better and itto for once doesn’t care if you think he’s gross. he wants to milk your tits and suck until they become sweet little prunes , just so he can make it better.

your panties grow sticky as his sucks grow rougher. even if your breasts didn’t jump up a cup size you think that maybe this was worth it. to have him close, to have him drool and worship your tits and feel his cock straining against you.

his eyes closed, still nursing on your teat sweetly. your hand buries itself in his thick mane that draped over his shoulder smelling faintly of your shampoo.

it silently encourages him to keep going, leading to both of your undoings. the hand running through his hair tugs on his roots but then suddenly stills.

you see a brief flash of something and you gasp.

“itto why on earth is your dick out ?”

“can I put just the tip in ? please?”

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #tw:incest #itto x reader #itto x you #itto x y/n #itto x female reader #itto x reader smut #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto x you #arataki itto x y/n #itto smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader smut

[zaceouiswriting]

The scumbag jock boyfriend

Characters: Reggie Mantle x Archie Andrews x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Riverdale

Warnings: Smutty, cheating

Sweat drips down my body as I wait. My patience quickly wears thin as I stand in the same place for over an hour. What is he doing? Did he forget again that we had a date? When I look at my phone, I see I have no reception.

Pissed off because most of my clothes are soaked with sweat, I huff. I angrily stuff the blanket back into the basket along with the food - I had prepared around dawn, which is definitely bad now. I couldn't hide my disappointment. With everything packed, I leave the clearing in the forest near the sweetwater river where we created our little romantic space when we were just kids in love.

I can't believe he completely stood me up this time. He usually arrives a little later since he always has a reminder on his phone. The only thing I can do is to go to his house. So I do exactly that, with my anger rising by the second.

As soon as I get to his house, I knock on the front door, but even after pounding several times, I don't hear any sound inside. I look around. In front of the garage, I could see Reggie's car but not his parents. Even more annoyed, I walk around, trying to find a way in. The front door did not open, so I go over to the windows, but they wouldn't open either, and even the garage door wouldn't move. I knock on the front door again. Involuntarily, my eyes fall on the keyhole. Suddenly, I realized something. I silently curse myself for my forgetfulness. I reach into my pocket and pull out the key Reggie gave me so I can enter whenever I want since his parents aren't home often.

It didn't take more than one step inside before I could hear a sound that couldn't be misinterpreted.

“That asshole!” I mutter angrily.

Following the sounds, I'm confronted with the bedroom door I've sneaked into hundreds of times when I couldn't sleep: a plain white door made of solid wood with a nameplate beneath a drawn football. Even now, it looks adorable. But the noise quickly takes me away from the beautiful memories that Reggie and I have built over the years of our relationship, which was initially secret and later public.

As I pull the door open, I could see Reggie and Archie, of all people, lie on the former's bed, their pants at their ankles, and Archie has his shirt behind his back, showing off his abs. Both have the other's thick, long cock in their hands.

To my annoyance, Reggie takes a moment too long to realize what a mess he's gotten himself into. I'd be lying if I said it didn't turn me on, in particular, because I know that neither would ever give their ass up for the other or any guy. I quickly realized what it is really about.

When I look over at Reggie, he's already trying to hide with his blanket and even a pillow I usually use for sleeping. He must have seen the anger on my face and is rightly afraid of my reaction.

“Cut the shit, Reggie. We both know, maybe even all three of us know, what that is. What’s wrong with you?” I ask him rhetorically. “Just because I said ‘no’ to a threesome? Do you think this will change my mind?”

Like a fish out of water, Reggie opens his mouth without making a sound. His head is getting redder by the second, probably out of embarrassment. Meanwhile, Archie just sits next to Reggie, showing off his great body and magnificent big member, which is almost as large as Reggie's. He flexes his muscles, making it obvious that he's involved.

"Please, we can just forget about this and-"

Before he can say anything else, I interrupt him by saying, "Archie, go against the headboard, arms over your head."

He moves without question, his eyes glistening with growing lust. I pull my belt out of my pants, walk over to Archie, straddle him, and press his member against my dressed leg, making him moan involuntarily. I tie his hands tightly together. As I look into his eyes, I place my hand on his cheek and my thumb on his bottom lip. I can see his desire for a kiss, and I'm not willing to deny him this wish. I lean in and kiss him softly. But he obviously didn't want any loving touch because he pushed his tongue roughly into my mouth. It's clear that he just wants his desires to be fulfilled. It reminds me of who really is in charge, that he only allows me to take the lead and even sit on top of him. He is much more subtly dominant than Reggie ever was.

Finished kissing Archie, for the moment, I turn to Reggie again, whose cock is still rock hard, but his face is white as a ghost.

“Remember, this is what you’ve always wanted, babe,” I tell him with a big grin. "Now I'm going to drain Archie's balls until all his cum is inside me. All the while, I'll jerk you off a little and maybe give you a blowjob, but you're not allowed to cum!"

“But-“

"No buts!" I interrupt him angrily. "You went behind my back to get what you wanted, so I'm giving you what you wanted, just not how you wanted it."

I once more turn back to Archie and take off my tight shirt, making the lust in his eyes even greater. This will definitely be fun.

[Masterlist]

#x male reader #male reader #riverdale x male reader #smut #reggie mantle x male reader #reggie mantle #archie andrews x male reader #archie andrews #riverdale #reggie mantle x archie andrews

[angelamcss]

wear it now like a mantle, always there to remind you

#hotd #hotdedit #alicent hightower #alicenthightoweredit #alicenthightowerdaily #houseofthedragonedit #house of the dragon #myedits #♥ #userliliana #uservhagar #userclarissa #userrins #tusereliza #userdaf #userstarfall #usergale

[angellayercake]

Pomegranate Noir

NSFW

Papa Emeritus III x Reader

AO3

The air was humid and warm when you let yourself into Papa’s quarters. The room was dark save for the lit fire and a wedge of light spilling from the open bathroom door like an invitation. A haze of steam blurred your vision as it hung in the air carrying the scent of one of his obscenely expensive bath oils right to you, encouraging you to follow it and find the man that had summoned you here. You paused for a moment letting the scent wash over you trying to identify which oil he had chosen this evening, it was always a good indication of his mood.  

Closing your eyes you breathe in and try and parse out the different notes. The first thing you can sense is a cloying, fruity sweetness, tart and rich that reminds you of pomegranates but then underneath that a spicy, woody musk. It’s one of his darker, sensual favourites and you suspect you are about to be thoroughly seduced. You follow your nose and the flickering light into his ensuite, excited by what you will find there.  

You lean against the doorframe taking in the scene before you. Candles are scattered over every available surface centering around the clawfoot tub that dominated the room. And there he was laying back in the steaming water, petals of violet and jasmine floating on the surface, a sweating  glass of white wine balanced on his fingers and other hand wrapped around his half hard cock pulling slowly. Your breath catches at the sight. His paints are already washed clean allowing you to see the flush that has bloomed on his cheeks and spread to his chest, whether from the heat of the bath, the wine or his arousal. Perhaps all three. He moans quietly as his hand moves to caress his balls and further still. If the scent hadn’t already given you an idea of his plans for this evening watching him now would have.

He must sense your presence because his eyes flick open. The pupil of his green eye blown wide already with lust while his white eye remained focused and pinpointed on you.

‘Ah Cara mia, you are finally here. I would apologise for starting without you but your Papa has had such a hard day,’ He was attempting to look at you with regret but his eyes held that sparkle of mischief that was always present when he was in this mood. You would be very surprised if this wasn’t exactly how he planned for you to find him.  

‘It’s ok Papa.’ You move away from the door frame walking towards him letting your eyes run over the tableau he has so carefully prepared. He had gone to such an effort it would be rude not to give it the appreciation it deserved. When you eventually look up to his face again you are pleased by the look of pure satisfaction you are met with. Ever the showman he preens under your attention and you do so enjoy him like this. The mantle of Papa is more than just a job and some face paint, it is a mask he must wear almost always. But you hope at least that these little games allow him to play a different role. One a little closer to who he really is and with every invitation you accept he allows you to see a little bit more of him. 

You think he may have noticed the soft way you were looking at him because he quickly redirects your attention. He doesn’t always shy away from sentimentality but that usually comes a bit later in the evening when you are both satiated and high on the aftermath of your activities.

‘Even with all this,’ he gestures with the wine glass, very close to spilling the contents over the rim. ‘I find myself restless. I think there is something else I am needing to take the edge off si?’

‘Is that anything I can help with Papa?’ He squeezes his cock which is growing ever harder in his hand and looks up at you through his steam damp lashes. It is impressive that while you are well acquainted with his carnal talents and he is laid out before you the epitome of lustful temptation with only a look he can appear so demure and make you shiver at his coy suggestion. 

‘I do hope so Cara.’ He hands you his wine glass as he sits up. You drain what’s left, a little drop escaping the side of the glass which you catch with your tongue as he watches you intently. He stands up slowly and rivulets of water make their way down his body, droplets catching in his hair and glistening in the flickering candle light. There are a few petals stuck to his chest so you use them as an excuse to run your hands over him before dropping them back into the water and offering your hand to help him step out of the tub.

Once he is safely out you leave the wine glass on the counter and fetch one of his fluffy towels. He makes no effort to cover himself just runs it over his damp skin one area at a time giving you plenty to look at while you wait. He bends at the waist throwing a smirk back at you as he does drying first his feet then working his way up his calves to his thighs and as you allow your eyes to trace upwards you notice it. A sparkling purple jewel surrounded by gold nestled between his ass cheeks, which could only be attached to a plug. Your body gets caught between gasping and moaning so instead you just choke and he giggles, actually giggles to himself as he straightens up, considering his little tease a success. 

‘I was thinking we could try something a little different tonight,’ he says as he hangs up the towel by the door and saunters back towards you, still completely bare. You don’t know where to look flustered as you are. If you didn’t adore him so much you would hate him for how much enjoyment he took in putting you off balance. ‘As I say your Papa has so much responsibility and it has been weighing him down so perhaps you would help look after him tonight?’ 

‘Of course Papa,’ you practically whisper still in a slight daze from the shock of lust he inspired in you. ‘Whatever you want.’ 

‘Ah so good to me, I knew I could count on you.’ He is close enough to you now you can feel the heat from him and smell the traces of oil left over from his bath. He reaches for your waist easing you ever closer, his mouth dropping open and eyes widening as his cock comes into contact with you. You have to kiss him then, you are powerless to resist his plush lips parted for you so invitingly but you don’t allow your lust to over take you keeping them soft and fleeting even when his tongue tentatively meets yours. 

‘I think we need to get you out of these clothes first, si?’ He says as he pulls away sliding his hands down until he reaches the hem of your habit pulling it up slowly revealing your body to him. He helps lift it over your head, dropping it to the side then reaching around you making short work of removing your bra. He traces across your skin as he pulls it from you, knuckles grazing over your breast making you crave more of his touch but he just moves on to your underwear, sliding it down over your hips before taking your hand to help you balance as you step out of them. 

‘There now, I will go and get comfortable Cara, everything you need is in that box on the counter si? You just nodded at him dumbly needing a bit of time to gather your thoughts. He pressed a kiss to your hand without releasing you from his intense gaze before turning and leaving the bathroom. Now you knew it was there you could see the plug glinting as he moved. Just before he left the room he looked back at you over his shoulder catching you staring and smirking at you in satisfaction before closing the door behind him to give you some much needed privacy.

The air left you in a rush now you were alone. By now you should be used to his antics. It had been months since he first invited you to his bed yet every time he had a surprise for you. That's probably why you kept coming, why every time you found the notes left on your pillow your heart leapt and a shiver ran through you. He inspired such lust in you you couldn’t resist any of his ideas, not that you would want to if you could. What he wanted this evening though made you slightly nervous, you had never tried this before but what Papa wanted Papa got and this was no exception.

You approached the box and carefully lifted the lid. Looking down at the contents sent a thrill through you but you laugh to yourself at his strict adherence to his colour scheme. You shouldn’t have been surprised between his choice in décor and the plug he was already wearing but it made you laugh all the same. On the top of the box was a harness made of soft supple leather. The front piece was triangular and padded for your comfort you assumed and had straps attached to all three corners. The gold hardware shone in the candlelight as you tried to figure out exactly how to put it on. The other item in the box was cushioned either side by tissue paper and as you pulled it out you marvelled at how beautiful it was. 

It hardly resembled a real cock other than in size. You rolled your eyes to yourself, of course the vain bastard had chosen one almost exactly the size of his. You were almost surprised he hadn’t got an exact replica but as you admired it you understood why he had made his choice. From the flat base pronounced ribs spiralled from the bottom to the top enhanced by the marbled purple and black colouring it looked like it would feel amazing. You were slightly jealous he wouldn’t be using it on you but perhaps that was something you could ask about another time.  

The last item in the box was a sheet of heavy cardstock, embossed with his insignia, similar to the stationary that he sent with his summons for you. Curious you flipped it over and read his elegant scrawl.

‘Cara Mia, I understand that what I am asking of you is very out of the ordinary for us so if you are in any way uncomfortable please leave the gifts here, come to me and we will say nothing of it. If your interest is piqued however please put on the harness and come to me, and I will show you how to please your Papa! Whatever you chose you will still be Papa’s preferita xx’

You trace his swirling writing and smile to yourself. He is always so thoughtful in his requests. Although his desires are strong, your consent is always his first priority. You look back into the box running your fingers over the harness and the dildo then looking back at the message. It doesn’t take longer than a second for you to decide what you want.

Realising how long you had spent looking at it you started quickly fitting it together. You didn’t want to keep him waiting too long. You fasten the strap around your hips making sure it is secure on either side. Where the strap tightened between your legs the subtle friction stoked your already simmering arousal. You stepped back so you could see your reflection in the mirror. From the back the dark straps sat just under the curve of your ass making it look fuller, more defined but from the front it felt strange and slightly off balance. You laugh to yourself quietly and wonder if this is how men feel all the time and think perhaps this explains why some of them strut about the way they do.

 You look over yourself once more checking that all the straps are done up correctly then you turn away. After a deep breath to settle your nerves you grasp the handle and then open the door. He is laid out on the bed waiting for you, propped up by an abundance of pillows and with his legs spread enticingly. He watches you approach him through hooded eyes, continuing to stroke his cock languidly. When you watched him leave the bathroom he was hard but it was red and weeping now. 

‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting Papa. I think I could have done with some help getting this on.’ You say as you kneel up on the end of the bed. Shifting your hips forward to emphasise your point. He trails his eyes down your body slowly and it feels like a caress. Down your neck, across your breasts then down, down to the colourful dildo standing proud from the harness. 

‘Oh Cara mia..’ is all he manages before he beckons you towards him. You crawl your way up the bed until you are straddling him. He lets go of his cock in favour of grasping your hips and pulling you closer, his face now level with your stomach. He trails kisses across, nipping at your belly button as he goes, the featherlike presses tickling you and making your muscles jump. He works lower and lower, shimmying down beneath you until he can take the head of the dildo in his mouth, moaning as you shift your hips forward on instinct. He pumps up and down a few times before pulling off and letting it rest on his tongue and looking up at you. 

‘It seems you are a natural cara mia,' he murmurs before taking the shaft into his mouth once again, closing his eyes and losing himself in the act. You would never have expected this to be so arousing but every time he sinks down you feel a thrill of pleasure. He pulls off panting slightly and you feel him taking hold of his cock behind you once more. ‘It is time now Cara. I want you to fuck me.’ 

‘Yes Papa.’ Your voice is breathy and a shiver runs through you as he says it. This is a feeling you hadn’t experienced before, at least not like this. You almost feel like your instinct could take over and you could do exactly as he asks but you don’t really know what you are doing and the thought of him talking you through how he wanted you. His seductive voice explaining exactly how he wanted you to please him. How could you miss the opportunity? 

‘I’ll need your help Papa, tell me how to fuck you.’ He tips his head back moaning at your admission. 

‘Si Cara si. I will tell you exactly how to fuck your Papa.’ You crawl backwards until you are between his legs and he spreads them even wider giving you a full view of his cock and the plug, still firmly in place. You have to bite back a moan at the sight. ‘First you need to remove the plug. You must be slow and pull it out gently. I have been wearing it for some time now and it feels so good Cara, my body isn’t going to want to let it go.’ 

As he talks you can picture his asshole gripping the plug as you pull it out and you have to shake yourself back to reality as you realise you can watch it happen in reality if you follow his instructions. You start by placing your hand on his thighs using your thumbs to massage him as you inch your hands upwards. You reach for his cock first encouraging his hand away so you can continue with his slow teasing strokes. Then you reach for the plug gripping the base and twisting it slightly to feel the resistance. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hands gripping the sheets, his reaction giving you the confidence to continue. 

You pull at it slowly continuing the slight twisting motion to help ease the movement. Your eyes torn between watching his face to look for any trace of discomfort and seeing the plug stretch him as you slide it further out. By the time it slides free he is writhing beneath you.

‘On the nightstand Cara, the bottle.’ He reaches for his cock again but you slap his hands away.

‘I thought you wanted me to fuck you Papa?’ He moans as you take a hold of his wrists and place them above his head. ‘Or are you too desperate to come already?’ In this position you can trail the tip of the dildo across him over his hips bones and up and down the length of his cock. ‘If you carry on like that you won’t last long enough for me to fuck you.’ He pouts up at you but doesn’t protest  and you attempt to pin him with a glare of your own not sure your eyes have the same intensity as his. You let go of his wrists and he keeps them in place so you finally reach for the bottle of lube.

He catches one of your nipples in his mouth as you lean over him, distracting you from your mission. He sucks gently teasing it to hardness before taking it between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to make you shiver before lavishing attention on the other. You lose yourself in his actions before catching sight of the bottle of lube and leaning the rest of the way to fetch it. He wines as you move out of his reach and can’t resist bringing his hands down to continue what his sinful mouth started, cupping you and grazing your now almost painfully hard nipples with his thumbs. Having finally grabbed the bottle you sit back on your heels to end his distraction and flip open the lid. 

‘Por favore Cara, let me.’ He takes the bottle from you and pours a generous amount into his palm. He rubs his hands together spreading the oil before reaching for the dildo with both hands coating it thoroughly. You start to pump your hips against the movement enjoying how it disappears into his first. Now he reaches for your hand and pouring more oil onto your fingers. ‘Now make sure I am wet for you.’ 

‘Fuck,’ you whisper feeling your own slick against the harness. You were entirely unprepared for how arousing this would be. You find his hole, breath catching as your fingers sink into him easily, still some stretch from where you removed the plug. 

‘Siiiiii,’ he hisses through his teeth. You ease your fingers in and out spreading the oil as thoroughly as you can. When you curl your fingers upwards he clenches around you moaning. ‘Oh Cara si, there.’ You smile to yourself that you found his sweet spot so easily. It is so satisfying seeing him come apart under you. ‘Stop, stop por favore. I'm too close,’ he begs so you relent, sliding your fingers out and get into position between his legs. 

You slide your hands up the back of his thighs mirroring the way he had spread you open in the past. You rest one leg against your shoulder and encourage him to hook the other around your waist. 

‘Comfortable Papa?’ He nods and you focus your attention on where you are about to enter him. You hold the base of the dildo steady so you can line it up but look up at him before pushing forward. ‘Like this?’ 

‘Si like that,’ you push slowly forward just letting the tip breach him. ‘Fuck Cara, more!’ You pull back slightly before pushing in further, grasping his hips to give you better leverage. You  repeat the motion until your hips are flush with him. He takes panting breaths as you move slowly, getting used to the feeling of thrusting into him. The harness is tightly secured but the movements still cause a pleasant friction and you can feel how wet you are. You couldn’t come from this but you were enjoying fucking him more then you ever imagined.

‘I’m ready Cara,’ he squeezes your wrist to get your attention. 'Move, por favore.' You roll your hips slowly watching his face trying not to pull out too far and interrupt your rhythm. There is resistance as he clenches around the dildo and you time your deliberate strokes of his cock as you bottom out inside of him, your other hand squeezing his hip and using the little bit of give you feel there as leverage. His breathing is fast and shallow. The only sounds coming from him are tiny desperate whines. 'Si Cara, just, like, that.'

As your confidence builds you shift your weight forward letting go of his cock for the time being. You lean forward and capture his parted lips in a sloppy kiss. He moans into your mouth as you suck on his tongue and start to increase the pace of your thrusts.

‘Ah you are a natural,’ he moans into your mouth. ‘Fuck your Papa so good Cara.’ You can’t stop the moan coming from you hearing him like this. You trail kisses down his cheek as you slide a hand into his hair encouraging his head back so you can get to his neck. You can’t fight the powerful urge to suck marks into his skin as you fuck him. Once satisfied with the trail of red you’ve left you look down between you to his straining cock where it smears precum across you both. He whines incoherently at the loss of even that friction as you sit back up.

From this position you can watch as you push in and out and you change to slow deep thrusts so you can appreciate how his asshole grips the texture of the dildo. You really hope he will use it on you one day. You look back up at him and he is watching you watch him through lidded eyes slowly pumping his cock in sync with your movements.  

‘Enjoying fucking your Papa, Cara?’ He somehow has enough sense left in him left to smirk at you, clearly pleased at how well his plan had worked. But you couldn’t deny your enjoyment. 

‘Yes Papa I do.’ He looks far too smug at your answer so you pin him with a series of hard thrusts at just the right angle to simultaneously make his eyes roll back in his head and shut him up. His legs tighten around your waist pulling you in closer so you brace your hands either side of him so you can increase the pace and utterly ruin him. He lets out sobbing breaths as each thrust bottoms out grasping at your hip then around to your ass the encourage you to go harder, faster while the other strokes his cock frantically. 

‘Are you going to cum for me Papa? Cum from me fucking you?’ You felt such a rush as you watched him get closer and closer. You were panting almost as much as him from the exertion but seeing him so close gave you the motivation to keep up the pace. 

‘Si, si,’ he cried, digging his nails into you. ‘Cara, si, sto per venire,’ his head was thrashing side to side and the muscles in his stomach were tensing along with your thrusts. ‘Si, por favore don’t stop!’ He was so close you could feel him tensing against the dildo and you know you only have to push a little bit longer. ‘Cara FUCK!’

As he comes he pulls you close keeping you still inside him as he rides it out come shooting up over his stomach and chest. His grip on you loosens so you grind your hips slowly easing him through the aftershocks. When he is ready he signals you to pull out squeezing your hip and pushing you gently and you take a moment to look over him wrecked and so so hot all because of you. His eyes slowly blink open catching you staring once again and a slow satisfied smile spreads across his still beautifully flushed face. 

‘Your turn now, Cara,’ he beckons you towards him, movements slow and lethargic.

‘It’s ok Papa, this was for you,’ you reach forward and stroke his cheek, his eyes closing momentarily as he leans into your touch but he fixes you with an intense look soon enough.

‘No please, let me.’ He grasps your hips pulling you up to straddle his chest. He undoes the straps at the back of your thighs, soothing your skin with his fingers where the leather has pressed in. He carefully moves to the straps around your hips, holding on to the front of the harness so it doesn't fall off and carefully drops it further down the bed. ‘Something to deal with later I think. I have much more pressing matters to attend to.’ 

‘Mmm Cara you really enjoyed fucking me eh?’ He runs the back of his finger, just grazing your folds and it comes back soaked in your slick. He sucks his finger into his mouth and you lose the ability to breathe for a second. It’s one of his favourite tricks but it still floors you every time, watching him relish your taste before he pulls you closer.

He teases you with the tip of his tongue, first tracing around the outside before following the lines of your folds, the barely there touch chipping away at your restraint. Just as you were about to break and just grind down against him he opens his mouth and forms a seal with his lips and sucks while using his tongue to press directly to your clit. You end up grabbing the headboard to keep yourself upright as he maintains the maddening suction as though he could pull your orgasm straight from you. 

‘Papa!’ You whine until he lets up, only giving you a moment before his tongue finds your entrance, sliding inside and groaning as you clench around him. He uses his grip on your hips to pull you down until you're fully sat on his face grinding your clit against him as his tongue works inside you. You're so close now your thighs are shaking and when he moves to suck your clit and circle it with his tongue at the same time it takes seconds before your orgasm hits you like a wave. The only thing keeping you upright is his iron grip on your hips and your fingernails digging into the headboard. 

As your head clears the only thing you can think about is lying down and he helps you shakily crawl down his body so you can get comfortable. You collapse against his chest but regret it immediately when you end up covered in both of your sticky bodily fluids. He laughs at the disgusted expression on your face and pulls you in for a kiss anyway. 

‘Ughh Papa, no! We need to clean up.’ His laughing subsides and he smiles at you softly. 

‘Shower with me Cara?’ You return his smile enjoying the thought of spending more time with him. 

‘Yes ok but no more funny business.’ You manage to pull another laugh from him and enjoy seeing him so relaxed. You prod his chest giving him a mock serious look and his laughter renews all over again and you can’t possibly keep your face straight. 

‘No funny business, I promise,’ He raises his hands attempting to look earnest but his eyes give away his continued mirth. He reaches for your hand though his expression softens to something more genuine. ‘And perhaps you would like to stay tonight?’ You try to keep the surprised look from your face at his request. Usually you spend some time luxuriating in the afterglow before he sends you off with a goodnight kiss and a promise for next time. Your heart starts beating a little faster at the implications of his question but you set it aside for now. 

‘I would like that.’ He says nothing else just takes your hand and leads you back towards the ensuite, to wear this unexpected but enjoyable evening began. The scent of the oil still lingered in the air sweet, sensual but with hidden depths, like the man who may have just stolen your heart.

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfiction #my writing

[five-miles-over]

Heyyy, could you please do a fic with Loki dating a shy virgin and has slightly corruption kink, the idea of ruining the reader, a bit dirty talking and loads of aftercare!!

Thank you for this request, and for your patience, @goldinheart ! I hope you like this piece.

Also, to anyone reading this, this piece was inspired a little by the song "Lover of Mine" by 5 Seconds of Summer. I've known about this song for a long time, and Loki is always one of the people this song reminds me of. Without any further ado...

Take All of Me

Warnings: SMUT, oral - female receiving, loss of virginity, dirty talking, and...some declarations of love.

Surrounded by soft candlelight, you sat in your bedroom at the foot of your bed wearing a loose white nightgown. In your hands lay a leatherbound copy of Romeo and Juliet, and in your lap rested none other than your beloved Loki, gazing up at you with fondness. Turning the page, you continued to read to him in a hushed voice.

"Come, civil night,

Thou sober-suited matron all in black,

And learn me how to lose a winning match,

Play’d for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.

Hood my unmann’d blood, bating in my cheeks,

With thy black mantle, till strange love grow bold,

Think true love acted simple modesty."

Blushing at the words, your fingers wandered towards Loki's raven locks, stroking them affectionately. 

"Come, night, come, Romeo, come, thou day in night,

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night,

Whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back.

Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow’d night,

Give me my Romeo, and, when I shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night,

And pay no worship to the garish sun."

Loki hummed with delight. "I enjoy this part the most, even more after hearing it from you."

"Oh?" You tried to hide your face in your hand for a moment, but to no avail.

The God of Mischief rolled over and looked up with an impish grin. "The words fluster you, my dear…perhaps you know what sweet Juliet was longing for?"

You shook your head, hiding a giggle as Loki moved closer, like a predator crawling toward its prey. "She wished for night, so that Romeo may come to her bed and take her sweet maidenhead." As he cornered you against the bed, you playfully raised the book in front of your face only for Loki to push it away. Amused by your bashfulness, the God of Mischief murmured, "Don't look away from me, my sweet." 

"Loki," you giggled, closing your eyes. 

He merely pressed his lips against your eyelid and, entwining his fingers with yours, passionately kissed you. Your mouth faintly began to move against his, and your body began to melt, as if you were now fully at the mercy of his romantic spell.

Loki pressed his forehead against yours, his hot breath mingling with yours. "A simple kiss, and you've become so weak in my arms?" A soft chuckle escapes him, "I wonder…" Loki steals a kiss from you, "what will become of you when I ruin you?"

Your arms wrapped around Loki's shoulders when he kissed you again, and you could feel the warmth rushing to your cheeks. "Ruin me?"

"Yes," he replies. "Every time we kiss…ever time I hold you close to my chest, I think about your skin against mine." Loki begins to kiss his way along your jawline, eventually reaching your soft, sensitive neck. "I think about marking you with my lips, ruining your precious innocence once and for all." Loki teases, "A winning match played for thy stainless maidenheads."

Giggling, leaning to one side to give him more access to your neck while yours fingers grabbed the ends of his jet-black hairs. "Loki.."

"Let me lose myself while I ravage you, touching you in a way that no one has ever touched you before," You gasped at his lips against your skin. "Loki, I…I…" "Tell me, sweet one." He continued to kiss you, keeping you almost pinned against the foot of your bed. 

"I like this," you breathily confessed, "your kisses."

Humming with delight, his lips made their way along your neck and roamed the top of your breasts, barely concealed by your nightgown. "I want you. I want you so much, my dear." Muttering your name, he lifted the hem of your nightgown and slid his hand up your leg, exhaling with delight as his fingers caressed your inner thigh. "Let me have you…all of you, my dear."

With another gasp, you leaned against the bed. "I'm yours." You were unsure of what was to come, but the way that Loki intimately held you and kissed you, the way that he confessed his desire for you made you feel as if you were the only worthy maiden in the entire Nine Realms. The only one who could make a god mad with lust.

Loki pushed your hair back and looked into your eyes with a naughty smile. "Tonight, I'm going to hear you moan my name as you come undone in my arms, and worship that beautiful body of yours the way it was always meant to be."

He swiftly picked you up and laid you onto the bed, your hair spilling across a pillow. His fingers unlaced your nightgown so he could have a better look at your perfect breasts and your lovely torso, his lips soon replacing his fingers as he kissed along your chest and gently licked your pert nipples.

You shuddered with delight, chanting his name as if it were a dark prayer.

Loki hurriedly removed your nightgown completely, almost ripping it in the process before tossing it to the side. 

Gasping and wearing nothing but a pair of cotton panties, you tried to cover your half-nakedness with an arm and rolled over. But Loki immediately pinned you onto the bed, placing your arms above your head. "I won't let you hide your beauty away from me, my sweet pet." He lowered his lips onto yours one more time before spending what felt like hours worshipping each and every inch of your skin with kisses and soft bites. 

Closing your eyes, you whined, begging to release the pleasure building up inside of you. But just before you could feel yourself about to climax, Loki removed your panties with a swift tug, a gust of wintry air grazing against your cunt. He pressed a kiss against it, and you felt yourself come undone immediately.

And when you opened your eyes to see what Loki was doing, he was magically naked, his pale body a work of masculine perfection. Without thinking, you reached your hand to caress his broad chest, running a thumb over one of his nipples. Your breath quickened, and you swallowed, looking up to meet Loki's eyes. 

"Do you like what you see?"

A wide grin upon your face, you nodded. While his body tantalized you indeed - he was always the most handsome one you'd ever beheld in your life -  it brought you comfort to see Loki just as unclothed as you in the moment. Your arms slowly encircled his shoulders, a tentative embrace. It was as if you were both allowing yourselves to be in your most vulnerable state with each other.

"You're…handsome beyond words." You delicately placed a kiss on his chin, the way that he'd done to you before, and pressed your forehead against his. "Loki…you're trembling. Are you cold?"

"No," he simply said. "Are you?"

You nodded again and captured Loki's lips with yours.

Though he might not outrightly say it to you, Loki always rejoiced on the inside whenever you praised him. Since childhood, he wondered if he was ever good enough for many things, having always been cast aside in favor of his more overtly brash and strong brother. For a long time, he did not even feel as if he were a true Asgardian. 

But with you, so innocent with your heart upon your sleeve, showering him with affection…there was no uncertainty. You always made it so clear to him. Your loyalty was his, your affection was his, and now, your maidenhood would be his. Loki swore to himself that he would never, ever make you regret giving him those gifts.

Loki kissed his way down your body and grabbed one of your legs, brushing his lips along your soft inner thigh. "I'm going to put my tongue in you now, my dear. I want to taste your sweetness that lies between your legs…and claim it for my own." With a hungry look, he spread your legs apart and placed his tongue upon your quivering folds, licking a clean stripe. Digging his fingernails into your thigh, Loki then swirled his tongue around your clit.

You cried his name again and again in pleasure, your eyes rolling into the back. "Loki, you'll make me…" Your hips bucked without warning, and you felt Loki's tongue enter your slit, moving against your tight walls. Moaning and whimpering even more, you reached down and tugged Loki's hair. 

Immediately, the God of Mischief pulled back and began to suck on your clit. Within moments, you came undone, and Loki lavished each and every drop.

"That was wonderful," you breathed, your chest rising and falling.

Loki smirked. "I'm not finished yet."

"No, no…" You shook your head, giggling a little. "Wait." You held Loki close for a few moments, able to hear his comforting heartbeat. "I need to wait."

When you whispered to Loki that you were ready for more, Loki entered you with a single thrust, groaning with satisfaction. With one hand pushing your hair back, Loki moved his hips against yours, rolling them in a serpentine fashion. Your breasts began to bounce just a little as you moved with him. 

"You belong to me now," he growls holding you close, accelerating his pace. "I'm yours, and you're mine. Don't ever forget it." 

"I'm yours," you mewled, looking up in hopes for a kiss only for Loki to bury his face in your neck. You continue to cry his name, your shrieks growing louder and more desperate by the moment. You weren't sure if you could take the dizzying ecstasy that grew inside you as Loki's cock penetrated your cunt again and again. If one were to die, then surely this is the way to die. You raked your fingernails along Loki's smooth back, and it only made him want to move even faster. 

"I'm close,…I'm close…" Loki moaned, holding you close while he almost pounded into you. 

Just when you were almost incoherent and barely babbling, Loki sunk his teeth into your shoulder. You felt him quickly pull out, his sticky seed spilling against your inner thigh and dribbling onto the bedsheets.

"Loki…" You fell back into the bed, gasping for air. He gently kissed your lips, and then kissed the red mark he left on your shoulder. 

"Are you alright?" Loki whispered with soft smile. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and reached up to stroke his hair.. "I…I've never felt anything like this before."

"You were so good." Loki pressed his lips against your fingertips before conjuring a warm, wet towel out of thin air. He began to gently wipe the inside of your thighs, stealing a kiss to your shoulder. 

You chuckled softly. "Loki?…What does this mean now?"

"Now?"

"After this…" you tried to ask, "what happens to you and me?"

Loki finished cleaning you up, and made the towel disappear. Then, he lay next to you, placing his arms around your waist. "Anything you wish. We could sleep…we could read another book…perhaps we could just talk. Another day, we could repeat our amorous activities."

"And in the morning? Will you leave?"

"No." Loki kissed your forehead. "I'll never give you away. You're the only thing in my life that I've gotten right, despite ever wrong I've ever done in my life. Even when we are separated by distance, I will remain loyal to you, just as you have always remained loyal to me."

You hugged him. "I love you, Loki."

"I love you as well. I always will."

After a quiet moment, you climbed under the sheets and rolled over in bed for another book. Grabbing a red, leather-bound hardcover, you placed it on your lap. Before you could open it, Loki stealthily placed his hand upon it.

"Henry the Fifth?" He asked, tracing the golden lettering on the cover that proclaimed the title.

"It's a play, but we could still read it."

"Anything for you, my love." With another forehead kiss, Loki opened the book to the first act and began to read it to you until you fell asleep against his chest. 

Tagging: @lokischambermaid , @lokiismineforever, @lokisgoodgirl, @lokiprompts21 , @lokisprettygirl22 , @holdmytesseract , @icytrickster17 , @thatdummy-girl , @cakesandtom , @turniptitaness , @winterfrostlovetriangle , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisninerealms , @muddyorbsblr , @123forgottherest

#loki #marvel loki #loki god of mischief #loki mcu smut #loki mcu #loki marvel #loki odinson #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki fanfic

[turnupswritessometimes]

The One About Christmas - AshEiji - 12 Days of Ficmas

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52217968/chapters/132084811 (It helps to heave read my Wedding fic, but it's not mandatory to understand what's going on.)

Day One: Christmas Party:

There was a college party. There were actually lots of college parties, but the psychology department of Stony Brook University was having its own Christmas Party. A proper, formal one, organised by the staff, as a congratulations for the students: despite them all having copious amounts of work over the holidays.

A normal Christmas party. Only Ash wasn't exactly normal. He couldn't help but feel, as he tied his tie, that he was tying a noose. His hands stilled. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. It had all come so naturally. He'd combed his hair back in the same way he'd used so. With the shirt and tie and jacket – it felt like he was stood back in his room at Golzine's mansion. As though he was getting ready for one of those parties.

And now he could feel fingers brushing a stray hair back; tilting his chin up and reminding him to stand straight; at the small of his back just to remind him he was a decoration. The same as the nutcracker on the mantle, only he’d never get the chance to return to his own candy kingdom.

His stomach forced itself into his throat. He couldn’t swallow.

"Ash?"

He blinked.

Eiji was at the door of the bathroom, leaning against the frame. Creasing his shirt, because it didn't really matter, Ash thought. It was an undergraduate college party.

"We don't have to go, if you don't want to."

They were allowed plus ones. There had been no question that Eiji was coming.

"I want to go." Ash's neck felt flushed, and it felt hard to take a breath. "Just not – looking..."

Eiji's eyes softened. Like they always did, ever since he found out. It just felt worse now that Ash’s past was completely in the past.

"Don't," Ash said.

"Here." Eiji stepped forward. Ash stared at the line of his hair, just above the collar of his shirt. It was inky black, shining in the light of the bathroom. Eiji looked handsome, like this – because it was a novelty.

Eiji's hands loosened his tie, and left it crooked. They slipped under the jacket, and slid it off from Ash's shoulders. It fell to the bathroom floor in a heap.

"Wear your bomber jacket, instead," Eiji said. Like it was simple.

"That's not formal."

"What are they going to do?" Eiji looked at him from beneath his dark lashes. His eyes caught the electric bathroom light, and shone like dark, rich honey. "Kick you out?"

"Maybe."

"Then we'll get takeaway and slow dance in the apartment, instead."

Ash raised an eyebrow. "Well, now I want to skip."

Eiji chuckled, and it was a brilliant sound. His hands crumbled the shirt as he held Ash's arms, reaching up to kiss him. He returned it, his eyes closing. Sighed, when he felt Eiji's hands in his hair, ruffling it out of style, twisting it in the long strands at the back.

Ash clung to him when he tried to pull away, hooking his fingers into Eiji's belt loops. But he was only taking Ash's hand. He had Max's cufflinks, in his pocket, from their wedding day. Fixed them on each of sleeves, his fingers practised and careful.

"There." He hooked his fingers into Ash's, leading him back into the bedroom. "Very rebel without a cause."

Ash winked and grinned. But he had a cause, once. He’d been a rebel, because there’d been a man to stop. Drugs to stop. The good fight to fight. Now Golzine – all other men – were dead, and he didn’t have a purpose. Instead, he had a degree to work towards. Less gunfights and peril and more all-nighters and caffeine.

He shrugged on his bomber jacket, and Eiji caught the front to kiss him again. It became open-mouthed; became Ash's tongue pressing against Eiji's, and his hands making even more creases in Eiji's jacket. Their hips pressed together, and he felt Eiji catch his breath.

They could keep doing this. Could blow off the party, and have sex instead. Try and have sex. They didn't always get all the way. Eiji said it was fine – that he didn't mind – but that had to be a lie. He wasn't actually an angel, willing to bare with Ash every step of the way. He had to be annoyed, even if he didn’t say it.

And Eiji nipped at Ash's lip before he pulled away, his bangs falling into his eyes. "Come on, James Dean, we'll be late."

Ash sighed, dramatically, but followed. Drove to campus with his hand on Eiji's thigh, and Eiji's hand over his. His heart raced. This made him feel alive.

They parked. The campus was all glass buildings, yellow lights; all modern and imposing. He’d looked around with Max, the two of them arguing over the leaflet. Eiji brought Ash's hand to his mouth. He kissed his knuckles, individually. They could stay here, Ash thought, but if he said that, Eiji would tease him for being scared.

He wasn't scared. Not of a Christmas party. His first normal Christmas party.

But they still weren't normal. They found that out when they walked up the steps and followed the distant sound of Christmas music to the lecture hall. Ash's professor – a dark haired woman who seemed to notice every little movement around her, greeted him warmly enough. Her dark eyes examined Eiji.

"And is this your friend? Boyfriend?"

Ash couldn't help grinning. He always did, when he got to say it.

"This is my husband." And he held up their joint hands so that Eiji's wedding ring caught the light. Eiji ducked his chin, his cheeks flushed, but held out his hand politely.

"My name's Eiji Okumura," he said. "It's good to meet you."

His teacher, Mary Catherine, shook Eiji's hand with a polite smile, though she still examined them both. Ash felt his skin prickle under the scrutiny.

"God," she said. "Married and neither of you should legally drink yet. That's – brave."

Ash just smiled. It didn't feel hugely brave. Not with everything else that had happened to him. Not compared to everything that Eiji did to stay by his side. Brave was disobeying Ash Lynx.

The party was held in the usual lecture room; a room not designed for socialising, Ash thought. But tinsel and fairy lights had been strung over the seats and around the board (complete with a wobbly 'Merry Christmas' written there). The front row of desks had been entirely taken over by snacks, whereas the teacher's desk was laden with a non-alcoholic mulled wine cannister, cards packed in willy-nilly around it. There was faint music coming from a laptop: a top 100 Christmas hits. All in all, it felt very school disco, just with young adults instead of young children. Everyone stood in clusters, chatting, over sprawled over the lecture seats in tight clusters.

They attracted attention. Eiji attracted attention, Ash thought, because he lit up every room he was in. But also because he knew he was the odd one out. No one knew he didn’t have a high school diploma, but it was like they still felt it. He’d sat an exam, written an essay, had a letter of recommendation, and that had gotten his place.

Soon they were surrounded by his classmates, whilst they all clutched glasses of lukewarm fake-mulled-wine, and the teachers chatted amongst themselves.

"It's so interesting to meet you.” One blonde girl beamed at Eiji.

"Ash is so mysterious!” The guy who sat next to Ash in the hall said. “We know nothing about his personal life."

"When he mentioned his husband, I thought he was being, like, ironic,” the blonde girl’s friend added.

Ash took a sip of wine, swirling it around his tongue. He chatted with everyone amicably enough, and mentioned Eiji often, he knew. They probably counted him as a friend. He couldn’t feel the same way. It all felt too shallow.

Eiji just laughed, politely. Charmingly. He was charming.

"So, how did you meet?"

Eiji caught Ash's eye. He raised his eyebrows, and choose to take another sip of wine. He wanted to hear how Eiji told it.

"I was working as a photographer for a journalist friend," Eiji said. “We were doing a piece in New York City. That’s when I saw Ash.”

"And then he asked to hold my gun."

The three tittered, their eyes wide. “Seriously?"

He’d made sure to make it sound like something else entirely, and it made Eiji choke on his own wine. He elbowed Ash, who had to bite his cheek to stop from grinning.  

The question made Ash think very quickly in just a second. He realised the context; the very reason Eiji had been there in the first place; the gangs, the drugs, the deaths. Who Ash Lynx was.

He swallowed. "Sorry. It's - an inside joke."

"I'm totally against guns," blonde girl said. "They should be completely banned."

It thankfully brought up the tired gun law debate, and Ash was forgotten, for a bit. That was always easier; when he didn’t have to talk about himself.

Eiji met his eye. His cheeks were red, and he loved that he could still make him look like that.

Ash forced himself to smile. But he was very aware they hadn't met conventionally - that nothing about them, or their relationship was conventional. How could he say that he'd dragged Eiji into a life-or-death situation from day one? Kept doing it, because he was selfish and in love. How could he explain that as much trouble as guns brought, he had loved his. It had been an extension of himself; its weight had felt right in his waistband. Aiming and shooting had been second nature – had felt right – a cheetah learning to run. He was a weapon, and that had been his fangs.

He'd loved his gun.

He couldn't say that. He couldn't say that a gun had saved him when he was eight years old. He’d have to explain too much. None of them knew anything. He didn’t want them to know anything about him. For once, he wanted to be considered normal.

Eiji leant across, to whisper in his ear, "At least they didn't ask about our first kiss."

And it was Ash's turn to choke. Absolutely not, he thought. These kids would be horrified if they knew he'd been to jail. (More than once, he thought.) Even more horrified that Ash didn’t ask Eiji's permission – and then they was everything else.

He reached round Eiji's back, and curled his finger in his belt loop. Not quite an imitation of what happened, but Eiji nudged their hips together.

Another girl had joined them, twirling her hair around her finger. "I really can't get over it - you're just so cute together."

"Like, total golden retriever, black cat vibes,” the blonde girl added.

He knew they were both blinking in bafflement. But kept smiling, politely. Not so different, then, from the old parties, Ash thought. All he had to do was smile and nod and perform. Only, at the end of this one, he'd be going home with Eiji. They didn't even have to have sex, if he didn't want to. They could lay in bed and watch a cheesy Christmas movie until they fell asleep. He liked that ending more than being told to be a good boy for Santa.

Eiji was grilled, of course, on who he was and what he did for a living. Eiji was much more at ease in answering those questions; he was good at small talk. His dark eyes shone like chestnuts, his smile gleaming. But Ash kept tracing over the white line of Eiji's shirt collar against his tanned skin. A curl of dark hair sat just under his ear lobe.

He downed his drink, heart thudding.

"So, are you at college too?" the guy asked Eiji.

Who did falter, then. "No. I'm - not."

And Ash noticed his expression change, then. Even as the rest of them uncovered that Eiji was from Japan - assumed he was an expert on Tokyo - and looked polite but disappointed when he said he was from a city they'd never heard of. Asked him to say stuff in Japanese, and Eiji complied.

The music got louder. And even though the wine was non-alcoholic, students started to dance. They swung the tinsel around and leant on each other and Ash knew they should join in, but he didn’t do this kind of dancing. He’d always leant against the bar and looked serious; he’d had a reputation to uphold.

Had.

They decided to head off, not long after that.

“You’re an intriguing person, Ash Okumura,” Mary Catherine, his teacher, said, when she shook his hand goodbye. Her grip was strong.

“Thank you,” he said, because it seemed the only thing he could say.

“There’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“Isn’t that true of everyone?”

She shrugged. Cast her eyes over the crowd gathered there, and leant closer, just slightly. Her hair fell forward. “To be honest, Ash, most of this class won’t continue on after undergrad. The ones that make it past masters is even fewer. But I think you’re one of those few that’ll go on to the doctorate. And I’m looking forward to calling you Doctor Okumura.”

It didn’t make him feel normal, but in a different way. It made him feel like he was struck with lightning; like there was something more to him. Something more than the nutcracker in the corner to be taken to bed later. And it felt satisfying to become something more.

He smiled at her. And thought that he’d still be wearing crooked ties and bomber jackets even then. A rebel with a new cause.

“So,” Eiji said, as they slid into the car. “How was it?”

He didn’t start the car, just yet. Instead, he kissed the line of tan skin that he’d been staring at all evening. Relished in Eiji’s sigh at the touch.

“Are you the black cat, or am I?” Ash replied.

Eiji laughed. He rested his head on Ash’s shoulder, moving with his arm as he began to drive. “They mean well.”

“How’d you find it?” Ash asked. “Your first American college party.”

“Not like the movies.”

Ash paused. He could still taste the mulled wine on his tongue; spiced and sweet and enough to go to his head.

“Takeaway and slow dancing in the apartment?”

Eiji kissed his cheek.

“That sounds like a good Christmas party.”

#turnupswrites #asheiji #banana fish #eiji okumura #ash lynx #fanfiction #fanfic #12 days of ficmas

[all-eyes-on-lye-tonight]

“Third eye” by Florence + the Machine reminds me so much of ORV that its physically painful.       

  “ Don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light Caught in your own creation Look up, look up! It tore you open ”  !!!!!!!   

  “ You don't have to be a ghost here amongst the living You are flesh and blood And you deserve to be loved, and you deserve what you are given “!!!!!!!

“ 'Cause your pain is a tribute The only thing you let hold you Wear it now like a mantle Always there to remind you “ !!!!!!!!

“ 'Cause there's a hole where your heart lies And I can see it with my third eye And though my touch, it magnifies You pull away, you don't know why “!!!!!!!!!

“ I'm the same, I'm the same, I'm trying to change That original lifeline I am the same, I'm the same, I'm trying to change Original lifeline I am the same, I'm the same, I'm trying to change That original lifeline I am the same, I'm the same, I'm trying to change Original lifeline “

IM NEVER EVER GETTING OVER THIS

#orv #omnicient reader's view point #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #han sooyoung #yoohankim #florence and the machine

[wakingstarstuff]

when Florence Welch said ‘cause your pain is a tribute, the only thing you let hold you, wear it now like a mantle, always there to remind you

#*longest scream ever* #florence + the machine #how big how blue how beautiful #third eye #Florence welch #sobbing #I love her so fucking much #feel vulnerable and held at the same time when I’m listening to her #one of my fav albums #ever #by any artist ever #like… flawless tbh

[yanqings]

songs that changed my brain chemistry permanently

#also third eye…. #CAUSE YOUR PAIN IS A TRIBUTE THE ONLY THING YOU LET HOLD YOU WEAR IT NOW LIKE A MANTLE ALWAYS THERE TO REMIND YOU

[fidothefinch]

HSB Whumptober '23 Day 1: Losing a Treasured Childhood Object

The batfam server I'm in created their own Whumptober prompts, and I thought I'd give a few a spin. I won't be doing every day of the month, but I do love some of these prompts! :)

Have some Dick angst, featuring baby Jason.

Read on Ao3 here

“Fine! Just – go, then!” Jason slammed the door in Dick’s face, and a moment later, a wordless of cry of anger followed, slightly muffled.

Dick clenched his fists. Like Jason had any right to be angry at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t bother coming back again,” he growled at the closed door. And he did leave, storming down the residential hall and not pausing as he swung his leather jacket on. Alfred tried to intervene – he always did – but Dick only shot him a glare he knew he would regret later as he stomped out the front door. His bike was where he had left it, and the engine revved and hummed in sync with his own simmering rage as he raced out of the city.

-

It was weeks before he had cooled off enough to return. It was Jason who answered the door. The kid’s left arm was encased in a cast. Dick, maybe with a hint of schadenfreude, wondered whether Jason had gone ahead and tried the move Dick told him he wouldn’t be able to pull off. The kid’s insistence that he could do it was the final straw that broke the peace that Dick had tried to create with passing on the Robin mantle.

 Jason looked him up and down, paling slightly. “What are you doing here?” he muttered.

“I’m getting the rest of my stuff. I’ll be fast.” Dick raised his eyebrows at the cast. “Cutting class?”

Jason scowled. “Parent-teacher conferences. I wouldn’t skip.”

Dick only hummed, already stepping past. He planned to ignore the kid – following the “nothing nice to say, say nothing at all” rule – but Jason took up step behind him as he made his way to his bedroom. Dick stopped at the door and turned. “Can I help you?” he asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jason backed up.

Dick rolled his eyes, instead swinging open the door and stepping into his old room. He’d replaced all of the essentials at his new place already. In his haste to move out a few weeks ago, he’d left a few sentimental items he hadn’t been willing to risk damaging en route, but now that he was settled he was comfortable retrieving them.

Except.

Dick stopped cold in the threshold.

The “Flying Graysons” poster, autographed by all of the members of Haly’s circus before he had been shuffled into the Gotham system, had hung on the wall above his bed since he had moved in. It featured the silhouettes of his parents and himself, swinging on the trapeze. The colors had faded slightly in the last decade or so, but it was one of Dick’s most treasured objects.

And it lay on top of his bed, shredded.

A sound escaped his throat, something between squeaking and choking. He closed the distance between himself and the bed with an uneven stride. It couldn’t be real.

He reached out, tentatively, and ran a finger down one of several long strips. The glossy silhouette of his mother’s torso was cut off at the top and bottom. The first half of someone’s signature had been shorn. The frayed edges of the poster revealed more – it had been an uneven break. Ripped.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Dick inhaled sharply, suddenly reminded of the other’s presence. The breath dislodged something, and his eyes began to itch with unshed tears.

“I mean, I did,” Jason continued. “I was angry, and you were – I’m sorry.”

Dick didn’t turn around. He scooped some of the ribbons into his palm and made a conscious effort not to crush them. “Get out.”

“I can help—”

“I said. Get out!” Now Dick did turn. He stood to his full height. Jason, paler than ever, flinched when Dick raised his hand to point to the door. “Get out of here before you ruin something else!”

“I—”

“It’s not enough that you had to replace me, that you wear my colors and stand by Bruce as his partner and son. You had to destroy this, too?” Dick’s voice was rising, increasing in volume. He didn’t care. “Get out!”

Jason didn’t need to be told again. He turned and fled down the hall.

Dick dropped his hand, and realized he had crushed the paper further in his anger. He let the pieces flutter to the ground, dropped to his knees, and wept.

He didn’t hear the front door as Jason left.

#batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #angst #no proofreading we die like robins #fido writes

[theladyofdeath]

The Viscount Who Loved Me {Epilogue}

TVWLM Masterlist

An A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction, inspired by the first 2 seasons of Bridgerton.

Written alongside @snelbz

Ships: Nesta x Cassian x Elain - Feyre x Rhysand - Elain x Azriel x Gwyn

Summary: (see TVWLM masterlist!)

A/N: The end!!!!!!!! Or is it? Thank you for reading! We hope you've enjoyed the story. We would love to know what you think! x

Feyre had never been so exhausted in her life.

She’d also never been as happy as she was and she knew those things went hand in hand as she leaned her head on Rhysand’s shoulder. Together, they gazed down at the tiny bundle in his arms, their sleeping child.

He was the spitting image of his father, with his dark hair and tanned skin. All but his gray-blue eyes. She loved it, loved the fact that every time she looked at her son, she was reminded of her husband.

“Everyone will be here soon,” Rhysand muttered with a yawn. “But I’m just so tired.” Feyre laughed quietly while her husband yawned again, looking down at his newborn son. “I can’t believe we created this little guy.”

Feyre had been pregnant when they had gotten married but she hadn’t known yet. They had told the ton that he had been born six weeks early when in reality he had been born just on time. The only person that knew the truth was their doctor, and she was sworn to secrecy. A fact that she delighted in. 

“He’s perfect,” Feyre agreed, brushing back the tufts of black hair. “They say we should be sleeping when he’s sleeping. Does that mean we should be napping now?”

Rhysand looked down at their elegant attire. “We do have a luncheon to host.”

“Yes, but it’s just with our family,” Feyre muttered. “Would it truly be so bad to miss?”

Rhysand laughed quietly. “Am I horrible if I say no?”

She was just about to suggest they steal away to their room, kick off their boots, get rid of the stuffy jacket Rhys was wearing, and sleep just as soundly as their baby was when there was a knock on the door.

“That’ll be Nesta,” she sighed, looking at the clock on the mantle. Everyone was supposed to be there around eleven, but ever since she was a little girl, Nesta had her own inner clock. If you aren’t early, you’re late, Nesta had always told her, and she knew being married to Cassian had likely been pushing her inner clock closer and closer to everyone else’s.

Except for when one was meeting their nephew for the first time.

Rhysand carefully handed their son to her, tucking him into the crook of her arm. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, just beneath the tufts of dark hair, and then kissed his wife. “We’ll take a nap later,” he promised, helping her to her feet.

It had been a week since Nyx was born and while Feyre wouldn’t trade anything for their perfect baby in her arms, the birth had been…difficult. Almost a full day after her water broke, Nyx was finally born, and Rhysand had never been more awestruck, proud of, and in love with his wife than he had been after she’d given birth to their son.

The doorman’s voice carried to them, as well as other familiar voices. Voices Feyre and Rhysand had missed in these past three months.

“My lady, if you’d give me a moment, I’ll introduce you and—”

“She is my sister, there is no need for an introduction.”

“Nes…”

Nesta scoffed. “I don’t need an introduction and I am allowed to voice my piece.”

“He’s just doing his job,” Cassian muttered.

An exasperated doorman rounded the corner, followed by Nesta and Cassian.

“The Baron and Baroness,” he said, looking as if he could not leave quickly enough.

Nesta swept into the room, heading straight for the baby. Cassian smiled fondly after her before meeting Rhysand in a warm embrace.

“Fatherhood looks good on you,” Cassian smiled.

“I think you mean exhaustion,” Rhysand joked, “but thank you. How was the honeymoon?”

Cassian grinned. “Oh, it was—“

“He’s so beautiful,” Nesta interrupted, looking at Nyx with tears in her eyes. “He looks just like his daddy, yes, he does.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he watched Nesta, as Nesta’s voice rose an octave. 

Nesta took Nyx into her arms and she bounced him, whispering soothing words to the infant as she walked back and forth in front of the settee. 

Feyre took the opportunity to sit down, smiling sleepily at Cassian. “So you had a good time?”

He had crossed the room, taking a seat on one of the loveseats, and opened his mouth to respond.

“We did,” Nesta answered, carrying Nyx to sit next to her husband. She was still speaking to the baby it seemed, as she said, “But we would have been here no matter what to meet you, sweet one. Yes, sir.”

Cassian reached for Nyx and Nesta shifted out of his grip. He blinked at her. “Let me hold my nephew, woman.”

“I’m not done yet,” she replied, glaring at him. She was gently rocking Nyx as she flayed Cassian with just a look and he was back asleep in an instant. “Wait your turn.”

Rhysand couldn’t help but chuckle as he sat in the empty seat next to Feyre and took her fingers in his. Brushing his lips over the back of her hand, he intertwined their fingers and looked at their siblings. “I think the last letter I received, you two were visiting one of the smaller port cities in Summer.”

Cassian nodded, stretching his arm over the back of the couch, scooting in closer. Nesta smiled up at him, love and adoration in her eyes, despite the fact that she was still hogging their nephew. He pressed a kiss to her temple and leaned back in his seat. “Yes, we didn’t stay long though. Someone preferred the beaches of Adriata.”

“It smelled like fish everywhere you went,” Nesta defended, brushing her thumb along Nyx’s chubby little hand. “And not in an oh, we’re close to the sea way. In a someone needs to bathe way.”

Rolling his eyes, Cassian turned to Rhys, giving his brother his full attention. “But you’ll never guess who we ran into while we were sitting down to dinner on that little island, before we returned to Adriata.”

“Azriel and Gwyn,” Nesta finished for him.

Cassian gave his wife an exasperated sigh. “I told him to guess.”

Nesta shrugged. “It would have taken them ages. Surely we have more important things to discuss than guessing games.”

“You’re a thorn in my side,” Cassian muttered.

“I could say the same for you,” Nesta replied, but then she was leaning into him, finding solitude in his touch. 

“I must say, I was surprised when Az said he was taking this woman on holiday with him,” Rhysand said, brows pinched together. “We’ve only ever met her that once, at the wedding.”

Cassian shrugged, his arm still around Nesta. “He claims they’re only just friends. She seems kind enough.”

“And quite lovely,” Nesta said, meeting Feyre’s eye. “Will she be joining us today?”

Feyre shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of, although she would be welcomed.”

“Azriel would take a woman who is only just a friend with him on holiday.” Rhysand chuckled. “As long as he can sketch her, he’s happy.”

“Your uncle Az is quite the fellow,” Cassian muttered, brushing his hand along Nyx’s cheek as he slept in Nesta’s arms. “I can’t say I’d find satisfaction in such simplicity.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Oh, we know exactly how you find satisfaction.” A second passed before she added, “Or, at least I do.”

Cassian grinned before he reached for Nyx again. This time, Nesta gave him up and she melted at the sight of him in Cassian’s arms.

“That is far more information than I think we needed,” Feyre replied, fighting a yawn and losing.

“What’s life without a little over-share?” Nesta waved her off. “How’s he sleeping?”

“He’s great at it,” Rhysand sighed, and even though they could see how happy he was, they could see the exhaustion setting in. “For very short periods of time. Then he’s very good at waking us up.”

They decided to send most of the staff to their homes for a few months, to spend Nyx’s first few months as a family, with just Miryam and a few others. They had done it for some privacy and to enjoy their time together as unimpeded as possible.

Little did they know they’d be doing the staff a favor. No one in the manor house was getting much sleep, thanks to the mighty lungs on the tiny boy.

Footsteps approaching in the hall snagged everyone’s attention and suddenly Azriel appeared in the doorway.

“How did you get in without an introduction?” Nesta asked, tilting her head.

He shrugged a muscular shoulder. “I came in the back.”

Crossing the room, he first greeted Feyre with a kiss on the cheek and then embraced Rhysand as he stood. “Congratulations, brother.”

“Thank you,” he replied, patting Azriel’s back twice before pulling back to look at his face. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Mother’s tits, you’re tan.” Neither of them had heard Cassian even get off the couch, but there he was, Nyx still tucked into one arm. He tugged on Azriel’s collar, trying to look beneath his shirt. “Is it all of you?”

Azriel stepped back, swatting his hand away and rolling his eyes as Rhysand laughed quietly. “I shall not deign that question with an answer.” He stepped forward again to peer down at Nyx. “By the Cauldron…he looks just like you.”

Feyre sighed. “Yes, he looks just like his father which is ironic considering his father did very little in bringing him into this world.”

Rhysand grinned. “Perhaps not, but I did enjoy making—“

“If this is the way you speak when two ladies are in the room, I would hate to hear what the three of you speak like in private,” Feyre noted, purposefully cutting off Rhysand’s personal confession.

Cassian grinned as he passed his nephew to Azriel, who took him gently in his arms and bounced gently as he walked around the small space. Nyx immediately melted into his arms. 

“Good evening!”

Elain came around the corner and Nesta threw her hands in the air. “How did you get in without an introduction?”

Elain shrugged. “I just smiled at the doorman and kept on walking. I passed Miryam, she said you all were in here. Poor woman looks like she hasn’t slept in ages.”

“None of us have,” Rhysand muttered, but then he looked longingly at his cradled son.

Elain followed his gaze where Azriel stood near a wall of books, swaying back and forth with the baby in his arms. She stilled as a look so pure and heartbreaking swept across her gestures.

Azriel was already watching her.

She cleared her throat, her shoulders settling back. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“We just returned yesterday evening,” he told her, though it was news to everyone in the room.

We.

Nothing had been the same between the two of them since the night of Rhys and Feyre’s wedding. There was a tension that had never been there between the two of them and it was palpable enough that Nesta cleared her throat.

“How have you enjoyed your time in Spring?”

The question had her tearing her eyes from him and instead focused on her sister. “Lovely. Prince Tamlin has been a gracious host and it’s gorgeous this time of year. I’m considering returning until the start of the social season.”

“Why come back for the social season if you intend to marry the prince?”

Elain’s eyes found Azriel’s again. There was something in his tone, in the way he asked that gave her pause. He was genuinely curious. Tearing her gaze away, she looked to the bundle he was holding. “May I hold my nephew, my lord?”

He didn’t speak as he nodded, meeting her in the center of the room. As he nestled the baby in her arms, his hand brushed against the exposed skin of her own. She was careful not to jerk away, but she did flinch. His eyes darkened at the reaction she had to him.

Just as he started to turn away, she softly said, “And for your information, I’m returning for the gardens. Not the prince.”

Azriel froze, his jaw locked, and the storm brewing in his eyes declared that he was not so sure. Everyone else in the room had gone silent. Neither Azriel nor Elain had explained any aspect of their relationship to their siblings, but they all knew something had happened, that something was going on.

If Elain or Azriel were being honest with themselves, they did not fully know what had gone on between them, what dwelled between them now. All they knew was what they felt, the chaos of emotions that enveloped them both when they thought of one another. 

“I do hope the gardens are worthy of your presence,” he said.

She took in a deep breath as her eyes bore into his. She knew full well that he did not speak of the gardens.

Elain turned from him and walked towards the others, cradling Nyx in her arms. “He’s so beautiful. He looks just like—“

“His father,” Feyre interrupted, sighing. “I know.”

Yet she fell into Rhysand’s side and smiled fondly at him. 

“Prince Tamlin, then,” Cassian started, his arm around Nesta. “Is he truly a gracious host? Every time I’ve been around him— oof.” Nesta had nudged him in the side, cutting off his words. He frowned at her. “What? Am I not allowed to speak freely?”

Elain chuckled. “You are most welcome to speak freely. And he has been a gracious host, truly. He has been kind and welcoming, showing me all spring has to offer.”

The room was quiet for a moment, Elain gazing down at her sleeping nephew and Azriel stalking to the windowsill to sit down, which left Rhys, Feyre, Nesta and Cassian to glance between each other. It was Feyre that asked, “But?”

Her eyes found Feyre’s before she’d even finished asking. Then she found four other sets of eyes on her, including a penetrating gaze by the window.

“But…I do not find myself happy there,” she admitted. “It is beautiful, I cannot deny that. There are more types of flowers there than I could ever imagine and I’ve enjoyed learning new customs and traditions. The prince would be a wonderful match.” She cleared her throat, looking down at the babe in her arms. “But I’m afraid he is not the match for me. I need to be close to what matters most.”

Nesta’s voice was hesitant, but gentle as she asked, “And what is that?”

Elain’s voice was clear, confident, as she brushed a thumb over Nyx’s soft cheek. “Family.”

Feyre’s slim rested in Elain’s knee and she smiled at her. “We’ve missed you.”

Elain leaned into Feyre as she said, “I have missed you, too.”

The three gentlemen huddled together, giving the sisters room to discuss their feelings. 

Rhysand offered them each a glass of his finest whiskey which they humbly accepted. They would be a fool not to.

Once they each had a glass, they sat down and faced one another as the women, across the room, ogled over Nyx.

“What’s it like being a father?” Cassian asked.

Rhysand sighed, contently. “Unexplainable. It’s amazing. You simply have to see for yourself.”

“And will you be seeing for yourself?” Azriel chimed, sipping from his glass of amber liquid.

Cassian shrugged. “Nes and I have talked about having kids. We’re going to start trying soon but we’ve enjoyed the time we’ve had to ourselves.” He looked across the room at Nesta, where she stared lovingly at the baby in Elain’s arms. “Although, after today I think she’s going to be pushing it.”

Rhysand snorted. “It’s going to happen when it’s supposed to. That’s what we told ourselves when we found out that Feyre was with child. When it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.” Cassian smiled as he took a drink and Rhysand redirected his eyes to Azriel. “No Gwyn today?”

Azriels shoulders tensed but he shook his head. “She has yet to see her own family, she is spending her day with them.”

His words seemed wooden, and both of his brothers frowned.

“Do you truly expect us to believe that you traveled together for three months and you’ve only remained just friends?”  Cassian asked. 

His distant eyes hardened. “I expect you to understand that there are things about her past that she’s only just divulged to me and I won’t betray her trust by discussing our relationship with others when the two of us don’t even have a clue of what’s going on.”

The two blinked at him, Azriel only realizing his voice had been loud enough to carry when he noticed how silent the room had become.

Nesta cleared her throat, dragging the attention back to her. “Lunch should be just about ready, don’t you think, Feyre?”

She nodded, standing stiffly. Groaning quietly, she said, “Yes, it’ll be waiting for us in the dining room—”

The tiniest cry filled the room, cutting Feyre’s words off as all six sets of eyes fell on Nyx. He had woken up, each time just as jarring as the one before. Elain tried to soothe him, but ultimately she handed him off to his mother.

“He’s likely hungry,” Feyre said, swaying with him in her arms as she headed for the door and to his nursery beyond. “We’ll be a few minutes, but please go ahead and eat.”

“Nonsense.” Nesta stood and followed her. “I’ll help you upstairs and the boys can wait. They’ve got their bourbon anyways, they’ll be fine.”

They exited the room, leaving Elain on the sofa by herself. It was only a moment before her eyes met Azriel’s and she stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I shall…help as well.”

With what exactly she’d be helping, Elain wasn’t sure, but she bolted from the room.

Once her footsteps faded down the hall, Cassian and Rhysand turned on their brother. Rhys spoke first. 

“We did not mean any offense to Gwyn,” he explained. “We do not know her as well as you do, but we would like to. And three months is a long time. You can see why we’d assume…”

Releasing a sigh, Azriel nodded. “I get it, don’t worry. Gwyn is not a fan of the society, but that is something about myself I cannot remove.”

Cassian was rubbing his hand across his jaw. He pointed from his brother to the vacated seat Elain had just been in. “And what exactly is going on there?”

“Nothing.”

The word was nothing more than a snap.

“Let me rephrase.” Rhysand leaned forward and refilled each of their glasses. “What happened between you two?”

Azriel stared at his glass, mouth grimly set in a straight line. It was a difficult question to answer because he honestly did not know the answer. One moment he was falling in love with the woman and the next she had left his brother at the altar and was being courted by Tamlin. All the while, it has felt as if she did not like Gwyn which only made him angry. Elain had no reason not to like her.

He and Elain had not spoken to one another since the night of the wedding.

“I am unsure,” Azriel answered and took a drink before carefully setting his glass back down. “We have not spoken since your wedding night and I hardly remember what we had spoken of then. Perhaps I said something wrong.”

It was a lie. He remembered that last conversation perfectly well.

“Perhaps you should speak with her,” Cassian suggested. “It’s clear there’s tension between you. Every one of us just witnessed that.”

“She does not wish to speak to me,” Azriel replied, quietly.

“I disagree,” Rhysand replied, settling back into his chair, signaling that they would indeed be waiting for the ladies and wouldn’t be going anywhere until he’d talked about this with them. “And despite what your outward appearance tells us, I’m pretty damn sure you would like to speak with her.”

“Do not presume to know what I’m feeling, Rhysand—”

“I don’t have to presume, it’s written all over your face.” His glass hung between his fingers, even as he pointed a finger at Azriel.

“Fortunately for us but unfortunately for you, we are married to her sisters, so despite whether or not you wish to speak to her, you will likely be seeing her quite often if you plan to see us.” Cassian leaned down so his elbows rested on his knees, clasping his hands together.  “And we plan to see you, so you better figure it out.”

The bluntness that only Cassian could dole out cracked the shell of Azriel’s anger.

“I’ve done just fine without my father for twenty-seven years, I do not need you two stepping in acting like him now.” The smirk that grew on his lips shoved away the tension in the air and he sighed as he dragged a hand through his hair. “I will speak to her, if she will allow me to. Not today though, today is not about me or her. It’s about you.”

He nodded to Rhys, who smiled in return and took a drink. “Actually, it’s about Nyx but I had a pretty crucial part in making him—”

“The girls are right, we can be quite crass,” Cassian jumped in.

“But, back to you, Az.” Rhys set down his glass. “If you have feelings for one, you cannot have the other, no matter what their own feelings are. That isn’t fair to Elain, or Gwyn.”

Azriel frowned. “You truly think I’d be so cruel?”

Rhysand lifted a brow. “Not intentionally, no.”

He waited for Rhysand to go on but he did not. Instead of replying, he took a much longer drink of his whiskey. He should talk to Elain. If anything just to get everything out on the table. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, something had been going on between them. Which was ironic, considering it was all he had wanted since the moment they met, for something to be going on between them.

But life happened. Elain was to marry Cassian and when she did not, suitors had lined up at her door. She could marry any of them, could have a perfect life with any of them.

She was being courted by a prince, for the Mother’s sake.

Elain was not the safe choice, was not the easy choice, but he truly did care for her more than he was willing to admit.

He cared for Gwyn, too, even though they were simply just friends. Although that friendship has bloomed into something special over the months they spent together…

It would be easy to create a life with Gwyn, but she did not fit in with the ton, with no intention to, and Azriel had a responsibility to his title, to the life that his mother had created and lived before him. He would not disrespect her by walking away from it all, no matter how much he loathed it sometimes.

Thinking of the women had him pensively swirling his drink. He feared with the gain of one he would lose the other, and that simply would not do. Not when he really did care for each of them in his own way.

There was a time not so long ago that he could never see himself as a married man.

Now he could.

He just didn’t know with whom he wished to share that life. 

____________________________________________________________

@mariamuses @photofeesh @the-regal-warrior @gracie-rosee @irisofink @strawberries-and-reveries @zeppelin-and-unicorns @live-the-fangirl-life @cassianscool @clacings @argentumstella @cuppamelia @chillspritecranberry @emilyrose111294 @awesomelena555 @gengen64 @dontbenddontbreak @blueunoias @liliput2203 @sleeping-and-books @kindofawalkingpoem @thebitchydonutcollector @shedoessoshedoes @cretaceous-therapod @emily-gsh @annie-laur @impossiblehistoryofquotes @midnightrose-reader @beanl1 @shniya-hiiragi @towhateverend87 @deezrmuhsheeple @pintas3107 @sarcasm-is-the-best-insult @santkazoya @lady-winter-sunrise @themoonthestarsthesuriel @story-scribbler @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @sv0430 @dreammoutlouddd @katlady13 @lokisllama @mrspettyferr @missannieshay @live-the-fangirl-life @headinclouds48 @secretlycressdarnel @awesomethreedragons @lokisllama @littlehoneyybee @vicioux @cest-la-vieve @lokisllama  @thewinterroza @aching-for-distance

#THE END #fanfic #acotar #fanfiction #nessian #acowar #acomaf #feysand #elriel #sjm #bridgerton au #period au #19th century au #1800s au #shacmc collab #acosf

[the-fiction-witch]

Witch's Wand P9

I smiled as I woke up in the cosy patchwork bed with Nigel beside me, I turned giving him a little kiss before I climbed out and grabbed the wand, I barely wanted to leave but I have to find Jack, so I unlocked the door and returned back to the house, I quickly moved to the next room opening it to a small cream and wooden room with sweet brown wooden furnishings most with dust and littered with trinkets, I opened the wardrobe seeing some similar dresses, but smaller petticoats and skirts, slightly thinner I suppose I picked a small skirt and blouse and slipped them on. One item did seem odd as I saw this ... dark green military uniform, but I used the wand and opened up the door to reveal a sweet little firelit cottage littered with wooden furniture and small trinkets, I walked in and found the place rather cosy I admit, and it did remind me of home somewhat, I looked to the mantle seeing pictures sepia tones photos and drawings, as well as military photos of men in uniforms, even metals mounted in frames on the mantle.

'Latimer.T.'

"Latimer..." I muttered,  

"That's our name don't wear it out buttercup," a voice spoke up,

I jumped and turned to see the small kitchen where a familiar blonde man stood drying some dishes in some black trousers and a crisp white shirt, "is it now?"

"It is, you still getting used to it being yours?"

"A little,"

"You're too cute," he smiled setting the last dish down and coming over to kiss my cheek and wrap his arms around me,

"So... remind me of it again?" I smiled 

"Ummm Hello, Mrs Y/n Latimer my sweet little buttercup, you're beloved husband Timothy Latimer."

"of course my sweet beloved husband,"

"Hmmm cute." he smiled giving my lips a kiss, "Now? As the dishes are done and the fire has made the house all nice and cosy, shall we buttercup?" he smirked turning me to face the bed as he kissed up my neck, 

Damn! What is it with these guys all being so damn horny!

"Okay," I blushed,

"Perfect," he growled as he tugged up over to the bed and stripped off down to his cotton underwear, Immediately he laid down excitedly with a pillow "Come on then buttercup" he smirked

"What? What... uhh what do you?"

"Come on... its Thursday, you know what I want," he growled,

"Well you uhh may have to remind me,"

"Ummm I want you to sit on my face buttercup, you always taste best over me."

"Ohh uhh uhh... okay," I blushed a little but moved to kneel on the pillows holding the headboard so I hovered above his face "You can pull me down where you need me to-" I began but he happily moved my skirt and got me where he needed me,

"Umm so wet already? Such a beautiful little buttercup" he answered gently holding my thighs and tugging me down until he was comfortable and he began to softly kiss me "uummmm buttercup" he groaned stroking my thighs as he kissed and nibbled at my skin

"Uhhh Timothy" I gasped holding the headboard and trying to make sure I didn't move too much

"Ummmm ummmm, I love you so much!" he groans between his kisses,

"You're really enjoying it this much?" I blushed playing with his hair a little,

"Uhhhh so much buttercup, I wanna do this every night if you'd let me, but I know your cute little legs get tried, trust me if I could I'd have you sit on my face and I'd eat you all night every night" he moans his kisses getting more intense

"Uhhh really?"

"Really y/n."

"Ummm it is very nice, but I can't help but feel like I'm not doing much"

" just relax buttercup, let me take care of my lovely girl,"

"What about this?" I asked gently moving my hips which gave me more pleasure and his grip tightened

"Uhhhh fuck! Yes!" He groaned, "ohh yeah! Ride my face buttercup ummm!" He moans kissing, licking and now even sucking to give me more pleasure "Uhhhh so adventurous tonight buttercup," He groaned

"Uhhhh Timothy!"

"Fuck! You feel so good" he groans his hand moving up to grasp my breast

"Uhhhh!" I squealed my legs getting weak I leant back a little and noticed just how hard he was so I giggled and moved my hand back to rub in his erection

"Uhhhhh fuck! You are amazing! You're so perfect! How did I ever get such a perfect thing like you! Uhh keep going I'm already close buttercup," He groans speeding up his kisses and sucking so I sped up my hand and it wasn't long

until I hit my wall squealing as I grabbed the headboard hard throwing my head back trying not to squirt or clamp my thighs down on him "Ahhhhhhhh timothy!"

When I calmed down a little and caught my breath I noticed I had squirted a little which made me turn bright red as I moved a little,

"Ohh timothy I uhh I -" I began

That was honestly the hottest experience of my life and the fact that you literally rode my face until you squirted on me is literally going to go down as one of the sexiest things I will ever experience!"

"It uhh it was?"

"I love you so much, you are so sexy, beautiful, and amazing, Thank you very very much buttercup"

"You're welcome Timothy" I smiled

"Buttercup?"

"Yes, Timothy?" I blushed,

He smirked and pulled me down onto his lap until he slipped inside me "uuuuuuuhhh! Holy-" he moans, I began to move his eyes rolled back and he moaned "uuhhh you feel so good buttercup! Uhhh don't stop y/n" he begs moving his hips to thrust up into me as I ride providing us both with waves of pleasure we did our best to both stay quiet and slow but I knew how close I was getting and I began to get faster and more merciless on him which he enjoyed massively biting his lip hard trying desperately not to moan "I'm close y/n! I'm so close buttercip! Please!" he pleads "please, please! You have no idea how bad I need you!" he groans moving his hands from my waist to my breasts groping them through my dress and playing with my hardening nipples "ohh yeah... fuck! Uuuuuuuhhh!" he groans as he began rubbing and stroking my clit which was enough to throw me over the edge I covered my mouth as I froze up pleasure Washing over me

"Uuughhhh!" He groans as my tightness has thrown him over the edge too he buries himself inside me filling me up he collapses completely against his pillow gasping for breath, "... I love Thursdays buttercup," he growled. 

"yeah I uhh I think I do too." I blushed, 

"come here let me give my buttercup a cuddle," he cooed cuddling up to spoon me with his arm over my waist, I smiled and enjoyed the cuddle and the few kisses until he fell asleep.

Once he had been sleeping a while I got up and fixed my skirt grabbing my wand, I smiled giving his head a little kiss before I unlocked the door and headed back into the small room and the house. 

[plantifulkitti]

but your pain is a tribute / the only thing you let hold you / wear it now like a mantle / always there to remind you

09/05/23

#wirsindalleprogrammiert #patti smith #florence welch #florence and the machine #fatm