#EVERY TONGUE that rises against her shall fall.

[cyarskj1899]

Boy, eat shit. Must know he’s going to lose in court.

If it’s one thing fuck boys gon do??? It’s link up and make a fuck boy brigade

Keep the apologies bozo. Like a bitch, you choose to malign Megan character and link with her enemies all because she wanted to renegotiate her contract.

. I hope Meg clears the fucking table and gets everything she deserves bc these niggas played on her name and in her face way too long.

[folklouire]

i bet hating olivia and calling her boring makes you look soooo so stupid after these banger after banger albums

[wrestledreams]

riho photocard 🫶

[feyrescourt]

🎨 : diielliee ; madschofield; eospaint; renata_watsonn ; bethgilbert_art ; janarunneck

[shvroyism]

i love francesca bridgerton soooo much

[rachelzeglertruther]

RACHEL ZEGLER HATE TRAIN IS OVER, WE WON

[lunar-years]

After reading that article I’m feeling extra annoyed at the increase in the number of “fans” lately professing that her “current behavior” is “rubbing them the wrong way” or that she doesn’t seem like herself or she’s becoming grating etc etc because it really adds fuel to the terrible notion that she’s only palatable and likable when she’s hiding her personality and personhood away.

Thinking about that tik tok from the start of tour with the woman talking about how she became a fan during folklore because she knew nothing about her apart from the music but as soon as taylor started opening her mouth again she realized how cringe and embarrassing her personality is……

[sancastarcs]

saw some spoilers the other day but I am very curious how the hell they are going to redeem miss all Sunday on a level in which she is going to actually join the strawhats when she has killed at least two people that vivi cares about. That redemption arc has to be insane.

[lipglossanon]

♔ 𝔖𝔦𝔵 ♔

• A Dozen Roses • Fairy Tale AU •

Warnings: MDNI, dead dove, incest, possessiveness, abuse of power, mentions of suicide, depictions of bodily harm, off screen death

The King sends out a courier to every neighboring kingdom before you rise from your bed the next day. Your chambermaids are all a flutter, whispering amongst themselves in hopes you won’t hear anything. 

It doesn’t take long for your ladies-in-waiting to gather you from your rooms to walk with you down to the great hall. One of them discretely tells you that your Father is summoning all the lower court today for an announcement. Nerves make your hands jittery, but you keep your composure and walk sedately with your ladies. The tryst between you and the King left no physical marks and yet your entire body bears the moment deep in its bones. 

The lower court members are seated and gossiping when you enter the room. Many of the lords give you dark looks with their wives and daughters looking upon you with undisguised pity. Their judging eyes are nothing new, but the room is filled with an unspoken tension. Skirts rustling, your group of ladies block you from view as best they can, ushering you to your chair. 

Seated in your usual spot near the head of the table, you try to parse what the gentry are muttering to themselves but without luck. It’s all for naught as the room falls silent once the King enters with a couple of his knights. His cold eyes scan the table, landing on you for half a beat too long before shifting away to finish his perusal. 

Feeling satisfied with what he finds, your Father makes his way to the head of the table. You squirm in your seat, body feeling hot under your gown at the remembrance of his touches from the night before. Heartbeat thundering loudly in your ears, you try your best to school your expression into a mildly pleasant facade. Once he reaches his chair, the knights flank either side, all three now facing the people gathered. 

“Today is a day for celebration,” the King announces, voice clearly ringing out into the hall. “I have decided upon who shall have my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Your eyes drop to the clenched fists in your lap. It’s not like you didn’t know this day would come, but the betrayal of the King choosing someone after what you have given him is breath stealing. 

“She shall wed me and rule at my side as the new Queen.”

Gasps are the only thing to break the stony silence, everyone’s eyes now falling on you while you gaze wide eyed up at the man who has become your betrothed. 

“My liege,” a lord at the end of the table nervously stands. “It against the law is it not? To wed with one of your own line?”

A few other men stand from their seats, chiming in with agreement, pointing out their fellow clergymen who nod along with their claims. 

“Tis not right,” a wizened man steps completely away from the table. “You’ll smite us all with your blasphemous ways. We tolerated your witch wife, absolved of that sin when she took her own life.”

Your head jerks in his direction, “My mother?”

“Aye, lass,” a sneer crosses his weather worn face. “She communed with a devil and earned her fate on those cliffs. She—“

“Enough,” the King cuts off the old man’s tirade. He snaps his fingers and one of the knights leaves his side to roughly grab onto the ranting lord’s arm. 

“I know what you are,” spittle flies from his lips. “Coveting her damns us all. The spawn of that heathen—“

The King nods and the knight grasps the jaw of the elderly lord. Squeezing tightly, he wrenches the old man’s mouth open, and pulls a small dagger from his side. With one quick slice, the lord’s tongue falls to the floor with a wet splat, blood bubbling from his mouth like water in a fountain. 

It feels like time slows to a crawl. The old man cups his mouth, trying to stop the flow of blood and yet it drips like rubies from his wrists. A few ladies scream, including his wife, while the other lords who stood in solidarity slowly take their seats. The knight marches the elderly lord out of the hall, his garbled cries growing fainter until they are heard no more. 

“I will take your concerns into consideration,” the King levels his cool gaze at every person of the lower court. “But it is my divine right to choose what I will. Any insubordination will be met with a swift rebuke.”

He claps his hands and servants flood the hall with platters of food. 

“Now, let us rejoice. Enjoy this bounty provided by your King.”

He sits down, the knight standing at his side shifting to stand guard at his back. You’re unable to look at him any longer, questions running rampant in your thoughts. The old man spoke of your mother in a way you’d never heard before. Glancing down the long table, you catch sight of the man’s wife. Her glassy eyes staring vacantly at the far wall as maids quickly clean the mess left behind by her husband. 

Avoiding your Father’s gaze, you force yourself to take bites off of the plate prepared for you. The jangling of armor pierces the quiet as the other knight returns, blood coating his chainmail. Your stomach roils at the knowledge of why. 

Faking illness comes easily enough; you truly are not feeling yourself— it’s easily believed by your ladies-in-waiting so the King dismisses you to your chambers. Surprisingly, he does nothing more than kiss your knuckles as he bids you farewell. 

Stepping out of the hall, you wave down a serving boy to summon the newly widowed lady to your rooms. She arrives looking frightened and reluctant. It takes all of your willpower to adhere to decorum and not demand answers outright like a brute. 

The tale she weaves is bitter and sad; of a new bride found in the forest; whispers of her witch blood and the blood thirsty king silencing those who oppose. She speaks in urgent stilted sentences, telling you of the sadness that draped the new Queen like a leaden cloak. That she had another love before the King coaxed her away. The sudden news of a child growing inside her, a gift of their joining. 

The old woman clasps your hands in hers, a tight grip that makes your knuckles hurt. 

“Your mother tried to leave and your father couldn’t be seen as weak. He followed her to the sea. She would not return, even for the babe she bore. The King would have taken her by force if she did not jump. Some say she melted into the sea foam and still haunts those cliffs.”

A lady-in-waiting rushes in with scared eyes, warning of the King’s departure from the Hall. 

You thank the woman and gift her a brooch for her trouble. She straightens up and gives you a solemn nod before leaving your chambers. The maids bustle around you, ushering you into a chair and stoking the fire. You avoid their presence, the thinly concealed pity coating their tongues. 

Once they leave, you find your mother’s journal and begin to reread the passages in a new light. Your mother knew she could not keep a journal secret from your father. All of her possessions were buried or burned in honor of her passing. Angry tears fill your eyes as you read over the description of her ancestors—your ancestors.  

From her writings, you now knew what it meant for her to give herself back to the sea. That old woman was right even if she did not know it; your mother melted into the foam like her mother before her and her mother before her. A note of longing and resentment that the forest witch could not do as such; that wood magic had its own rules that did not cede to the waves of her home. 

As the sun begins to set, a blistering determination blooms in your chest like a briar rose. You ready a small satchel of the items you think you’ll need: the little jewelry you own, your mother’s journal, the apples left near your table. Hiding it while you’re alone, you wait, and once the chambermaids ready you for bed and depart, you slip into the simplest dress you own and make your bid for freedom. 

You don’t have much of a plan, but you know that you cannot stay, not with these questions burning your mind. The forest witch is closest; hoping she yet still lives. 

It’s easier than you thought, making your way from your rooms to the edge of the garden in the dark. The guards patrol at intervals easily skirted around and the darkened forest beckons you into its shadowy arms. 

Taking a deep breath, you charge forward, hope a small flutter of wings. 

[muddyorbsblr]

fateful favors [kinktober 2023: love bites]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: What started as a plan to join your sister at a tenant party in your new apartment building takes a trajectory you didn't expect when you discover she's arranged for someone to keep you company tonight

Pairing: Robert Laing x Reader

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, you know the drill and i am not the one); public sex; unprotected p in v; vaginal fingering; language; Wilder (yes he's a warning as he should be); mentions of alcohol consumption; slightest lil angst towards the end [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader is Charlotte's sister

"Charlotte I cannot believe you," you groaned as you paced your sister's swanky high-rise apartment, the clacking from her stilettos on your feet echoing with every step. "I thought the point of asking me to go with you to this forsaken party was so that you didn't have to ward off that creeper five floors below you and now you're telling me that you commissioned one of your former flings in this building to what? Babysit me?"

"Please, you should know me to be better than that, Y/N. I'm just trying to make sure that you'll be safe. Wilder has a more…ruthless tendency especially with new faces in these notorious parties with the rest of the tenants." She walked up behind you and helped zip up the rest of your dress, the top half now secure. "And he is not a former fling, he's a friend. Believe it or not, I do happen to have a few now."

"Right, sure." You scoffed at her description. "A friend you definitely shagged or else you wouldn't have described him as the biggest in the high rise." You waved your hands in her direction as if to say 'tell me I'm wrong' when your words put a bashful expression on her face. "Now this poor guy gets hired to be a glorified bodyguard against horny bastards when the point was that we stick together so that--ohh fucking Christ, that's it isn't it? You got him to babysit me because you're planning on hooking up with someone at this party!"

"I wouldn't use the term 'hired'," a new voice spoke from the doorway. "That would imply that payment will be involved."

When your eyes landed on the source of the new voice your jaw hit the floor.

The man wore a well-fitting suit that accentuated a clearly lean and muscular physique, the upper half of his white button-up shirt practically fighting for its life as it stretched across his chest. His trousers clinging just the right amount to sculpted thighs and highlighted exactly what your sister meant by the biggest in the high-rise.

He walked towards you with strides that you could imagine a wolf would take as it stalked its prey. With eyes dead set on its target with full intent to devour once the distance was crossed.

"And with someone as striking as yourself, I would hardly call it a hardship to keep you company tonight.” He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to your knuckles. "Doctor Robert Laing. I live two floors below."

Pick your jaw up off the floor, you hissed at yourself. "I'm uhm…Y/N. Just Y/N," you stammered, trying your damnedest to fight back the thrill that shot up your arm and made a bee line for between your legs at the feel of his lips on your skin. He's probably the most pro of the pros when it comes to getting knickers wet, Y/N, do not fucking fall for it.

He repeated your name slowly, as if he was rolling around each syllable on his tongue, all the while he still held your hand in his absurdly larger one. "Lovely to make your acquaintance. Shall we all head upstairs, then?" You could only manage to nod under his intense oceanic gaze, absolutely dumbfounded as he laced his fingers between yours and led you to the elevators.

You threw your sister a quick look in passing, mouthing 'Oh my God! To which she only gave you a knowing look as she nodded, mouthing back something that seemed like 'Have fun'.

When Charlotte invited you to a tenant party at the 29th floor, this was most definitely not what you were expecting. The party had extended well beyond the constraints of the host's apartment and bled into the hallway leading to its front door, the entire floor already beginning to give off the faint smell of liquor and sex. Some of the guests had paired off and were in various states of undress, pawing at each other and well on their way to becoming fully disrobed right there in the corridor.

The inside was much more scandalous, sounds of grunting and obscene moans coming from the bedroom inside, door wide open as if they were inviting the other guests to stand and watch. Or join in.

You and Laing found a spot to sit in that kept a bit of distance from the fornication, him genuinely seeming interested in your work and the events that led you to the high-rise in the first place. About how long you'd be staying in the city and if you'd already gotten to know the lay of the land where the building's amenities were concerned, offering to show you around in the weekend if you were still here.

Much as you wanted to buy into the notion that someone that was so obviously out of your league was interested in getting to know you, you couldn't help the thought that perhaps he was just investing this much effort into this to try and rekindle something with your sister. The thought wasn't completely unfounded, considering Charlotte's history with having former flings going absolutely astonishing lengths to get into contact with her again to this day for her to direct her attentions their way again. And Robert Laing might be someone that the women in the party looked to and regarded as if he was some sort of sex god with the outright lust on their faces whenever they snuck a glance his way, but he was still a man, after all.

And with the way she was describing him to you earlier, she'd definitely entertained the thought of a repeat performance with him at least thrice. Probably still had the notion on the back burner of her mind even as she chatted it up with another attendee, yet another shockingly tall head turner in a black suit that looked tailored within an inch of its life and slicked back onyx curls with a look on his face that did more than enough to tell you she wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight.

The feel of Laing's hand on yours snapped you out of your thoughts, fingers deftly taking away the empty cup that you'd been picking at with your nails for the last few minutes. "I'll just go get us some fresh drinks. I won't be two minutes." You gave him a nod with a well-practiced smile, his words ringing a little too familiar and conjuring memories of gatherings much like this one sans the public displays of lasciviousness that you'd once attended with Charlotte where the sorry chap that had to accompany you would say nearly those exact words and that would be the last you'd hear from them.

It was a song and dance you were all too familiar with. And after repeat offenses you'd grown numb to it, expecting it, even.

What you weren't expecting was the sharp look that Laing had thrown somewhere behind your shoulder before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Save my seat, darling."

All you could say in response was a stupefied, "Sure."

Not even half a minute after he stepped away someone approached you, positioning himself behind where you were seated on the sofa, denim-clad thigh dangerously close to your shoulder. "Never seen your pretty face at one of these events. Are you new to the building, luv?"

You looked at the man that approached you, the stench of nicotine, alcohol, and lust coming off him in waves. He looked like one of those 'adult film' stars that you'd often find in the tapes that various exes had had hidden away. The man they dreamed of becoming so that they could rut into women that looked like your sister with reckless abandon and get paid for doing a shit job.

"I am." You kept your answer terse. Clipped. You'd dealt with men like this before, and for the most part all they wanted was for you to steer them Charlotte's way. Once they realized how guarded you were they'd leave you well enough alone.

"Smashing," he slurred, shifting his stance until he rested his elbows on the back of the couch, a little more eye level with you and now you could see the dangerous predatory gleam in his eyes. You recognized this look, too. Someone who took rejection one too many times and now he would just let the words roll off his back and take what he wanted anyway.

Someone you should run away from as fast as you humanly could in these god awful heels that Charlotte practically shoved you into. Or maybe if desperate times really do call for desperate measures I could drive the heel through his neck, you pondered quietly.

And despite knowing that he wasn't coming back, you found yourself hoping that Laing would pop up and offer some form of backup in case your hunch about this leering imposing guest was correct.

"The name's Richard Wilder," he said incoherently, a thick meaty hand sneakily trying to move across your shoulder to play with the strap holding your dress up and keeping you relatively decent compared to majority of the party. "Perhaps we can go find a corner somewhere and…get to know each other a little better."

You could feel your stomach recoil in disgust at the implication, partnered with the way a finger had worked its way under your dress strap and he was already leaning in closer and closer, the stench of the cigarettes and alcohol invading your space and searing the path from your nostrils to your brain. "I'm already here with someone," you managed to choke out as you struggled not to take a breath. The lie felt heavy on your tongue, but you wielded it regardless like a makeshift weapon that could maybe ward him off if you said it convincingly enough. "He should be back any second."

Wilder let out a scoffing laugh, his breath on a mission to sever your sense of smell within the next sixty seconds. "Who? Laing? Sweet thing you really are new here. That man's fucked his way through this building and back. You'll be lucky if he remembers your name come Saturday." He shifted even closer to you, pressing his nose into your hair and inhaling like a drug sniffing canine on a mission. "I reckon he's shriveled up down there from getting it wet all the fucking time--"

"Well I always say better shriveled than dry," you shot back, your mouth somehow having lost its filter as the alcohol kicked in and melted away your inhibitions. "You're so obviously bitter over that fact I can taste your jealousy when you exhale. Now please, get gone and find someone else to torment. Or better yet, you could go home and get ahead of that absolute banger of a hangover you'll have in the morning and start sleeping it off."

"Hmmm…bed. Now that is an excellent idea." He moved his hand down your arm until his fingers hooked around your elbow, trying to pull you up to your feet. "Come on, luv. I can make you feel so good you won't ever let me leave your bed even when my wife's knocking down your door with a fuckin' butcher's knife."

"Fucking hell, you're married? You're married and you're still looking for someone to warm your miserable dry cock?" The disgust was already causing your stomach to coil up, the urge to just take off one of your borrowed heels and jam it into the arm that was holding you in place becoming more and more tempting with each passing second. You scanned the room to see if you could discern which of the other guests was the unlucky bastard's wife, finding a heavily pregnant woman seated near the singular exit out into the hall with sad eyes and a scowl on her face as she eyed the man with a sloppy grip on you. "You're vile, Wilder. Go home to your wife and actually try to be a decent human if being a decent husband is too tall of an order for your miserable arse."

He looked as if you'd slapped him clean across the face. "You mouthy little slut where do you get off speaking to me like this?" He pulled on you harder, knocking you off balance and having you struggle to keep from him pulling you over and across the couch. "Don't fight it, little slut. I'll take you somewhere you can put that glib little mouth of yours to good use. Maybe if you're a good girl I'll even let you cum tonight--"

"Wilder get your paws off my date. Now." You could feel the coiling tension in your stomach begin to relax at the sound of Laing's voice over the speakers, an arm wrapping around your waist delicately while the other clamped around Wilder's wrist in a vice grip. "While I still have the inclination to ask nicely."

The burly man released you from his hold, raising his hands in the air with a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You probably weren't even worth the effort anyway," were his last words before he walked away, setting his sights on another woman and approaching her, a similar look of apprehensive disgust on the woman's face as he no doubt singed her nose hairs with his smell of sweat and cigarettes as he had done you just minutes ago.

"Come on, darling," Laing whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, slowly leading you toward the balcony, the fresh air making you gasp desperately for your next breaths as if you were trying to clear the outright disgust from your encounter out of your lungs. He kept his hold loose on you as you relaxed against the wall, his forehead pressed lightly against yours while he guided you through deep breaths, his woodsy citrusy scent helping to calm you even more. "I shouldn't have left you alone with him on the prowl. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"Hey don't be so hard on yourself I'm honestly surprised you came back in the first place," you answered back, still slightly feeling the effects of the alcohol on you. "It's alright, really--"

Before you could tell him he could be done with his favor to Charlotte and you'd just go home and sleep off your adrenaline from your unfortunate run in, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss. The thrill you felt earlier tonight from him kissing your hand had nothing on how his mouth on yours ignited a flame that quicly spread through your whole body, making your knees buckle as he pressed harder against you, his fingers weaving into your hair as his other arm wrapped around you while he worked his thigh between your legs.

"People like him don't particularly like hearing the word 'no'."

His words were fraught with meaning, like he was giving you a warning of what could befall you if you ever found yourself alone with him again. The mere thought of what could have happened if Laing didn't come around when he did and Wilder succeeded in dragging you off somewhere had you going frigid where you stood.

"Don't trouble yourself, sweet girl." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, kissing a trail to your neck. "You'll find soon enough that this place will set things right sooner or later. He'll get what he deserves eventually without any intervention from us. Until that day comes I'll do what I can. Make sure no harm comes to you." You let out a sharp moan of his name when his lips glided across your skin in an open-mouthed kiss, feeling your body grow weak when you felt his tongue lick at your skin. "The best way to do that is to make sure he sees you're spoken for." He kissed his way up to your mouth again, both of you groaning into each other's mouths when his tongue slid past your lips and tangled with your own. "Make him see that you're mine."

"Am I, though?" You cursed your filterless mouth for letting the question leave your lips.

"If you want to be," he shot back with a boyish smile, pressing another kiss to your lips, lightly nipping at your bottom lip. "For the illusion. For the night. For longer. Whichever you choose."

You felt overwhelmed with emotions, but part of you felt inclined to trust in his words that things would be set right soon enough, the conviction in his tone reassuring you and allowing your mind to focus on the fire that was spreading throughout your entire body. The only response you could give him was a little nod before he gave you a devilish smirk and pressed harder against you, his hand sliding down your torso and working its way under your dress.

"Oh sweet girl," he cooed when his fingers slid up the inside of your thigh, coming into contact with the slick fabric of your panties. "Tell me this is for me. Make my night, I beg of you."

He traced up the length of your slit with the tips of his fingers, applying just the slightest bit of pressure when he reached your clit, circling the hardening nub with expert precision and coaxing an answer from you. "Who else…would it be for?" you gasped, arching against him and letting out a moan drowned out by the party going on mere feet away from you.

Your arched back gave him the chance to wrap his free arm around you and pull you flush against him, kissing a trail from your lips down your neck and stopping at the base of your throat, biting and sucking a bruise into the skin. "You'll have to watch your words, darling. You're making it quite difficult to be gentle with you."

Those last words had you throwing all your inhibitions into the wind. "Then don't be. You said you wanted them to see that I'm yours if I wanted to be?" You pulled him by the lapels of his coat into a searing kiss, catching you both by surprise. "I want to be. Kiss me, fuck me, do what you want with me. Show them. Make them all see that I'm yours."

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans into his coat as he pulled the fabric of your panties to the side and slid two sinfully long fingers inside of you, twisting and scissoring at your walls readying you for him.

"Look at me, sweet girl," he growled, pressing you flat against the wall and lightly grasping your chin with his free hand. The sight of his stormy gaze becoming near black from his dilated pupils stole your breath away.

He curled his fingers upwards, finding a spot that made you completely delirious that your thoughts swirled in your head. The only thought that remained, the only one that mattered, was Laing. And the absolute devastation he was about to put you through.

His free hand slid down the side of your body, grabbing your leg and hoisting it up to wrap around his waist, opening you up even more for him and pressing your bodies closer together. The thumping music from the party was overpowered by your heart furiously pulsing in your ears, a knot tightening more and more with every sensuous stroke of his fingers at that tender spot inside you.

"Come for me, little temptress," he grunted, his breath hot against your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, giving you a knowing smile before lightly rubbing tight circles against your clit with his thumb, eliciting a scream of his name that had a handful of people diverting their attention to what was transpiring between you and the building's resident doctor out here in the balcony. You could still feel your walls clenching and spasming even after he'd pulled his fingers from you.

The air left your lungs when he wrapped his hand around your other leg and your feet left the ground before he moved you away from the wall. "What--" Your words died in a high-pitched whine when your back made contact with the cold surface of the table, the sight of Laing standing over you and unbuckling his belt kicking your racing heart into overdrive.

"I think they all need a touch more convincing," he told you, a devilish grin spread across his face as he lined himself up at your entrance and sliding to the hilt inside of you in a single thrust. Watching him throw his head back, neck muscles tense as he let out a moan of pure decadence would be a memory that might stay with you for decades to come. "F-fuck, it's like I was made for you, sweet girl."

He set a steady pace, both of you moaning and screaming into the night every time your hips came together. But what had your mind swimming was the way he lifted your leg and positioned it so that your ankle rested on his shoulder, turning his head to press a tender kiss to the reddening strip of skin caused by the strap of your shoe. The tenderness of the action in stark contrast with the way he rocked his hips into yours making you whine and moan his name like a wolf in heat.

His other hand moved up the side of your body, fingers running along the slit opening at the cleavage of your dress. "May I?"

Your lack of filter once again had you cursing yourself. "You're already inside me, are you really asking permission to touch my tits?" He gave you that boyish smile again as you nodded your assent, his hand quickly working its way under the fabric to move the breezy fabric aside and expose your breast to the cold night air.

Near-obsidian eyes roamed your body laid out on the table before him, from the lustful expression on your face down to where your bodies were connected, the doctor biting his lip before leaning down to slant his mouth over hours in a frenzied kiss, your tongues tangling together as you buried your fingers in his hair. The slightest pull at his short curls had him growling against your mouth before he broke the kiss, making his way down to take your nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth ever so slightly against the pebbled skin and making you release your hold on him when your eyes rolled back from the sheer ecstasy of it all.

When his thrusts became erratic you felt his hand at the swollen nub above your entrance, you let out a scream of his name as your climaxes overtook you both. You didn't know what came over you when you bit into his neck as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, but he took it as a cue to sink his teeth into the swell of your breast, both of you surely leaving a mark on each other that would stay for at least the next couple of days.

"There's no way I'm letting you drive home after this," he said softly once he caught his breath, pressing soft kisses to your cheek and temple while you were still trying to ground yourself. "Please let me escort you back to your place."

"Don't worry there won't be any driving required," you answered him, your mind still in a haze. "Just a walk to the elevator. 25C."

"Is that so?" You only nodded at him, giving him a fully sated smile as he moved the fabric of your dress to cover you again before tucking himself back into his trousers. He held your hand as he helped you off the table, pulling you into his arms again as soon as you were back on your feet to capture your lips in a tender kiss. "Well in that case…hello, neighbor."

This wasn't how you expected your night to end when you woke up this morning to Charlotte ceaselessly banging on the door to the apartment you'd just moved in to, practically begging you to go to the tenant party to both accompany her and celebrate your new home and the fact that you now lived so close to each other. You were more than ready to have ended the night with aching feet, slightly buzzed, and alone in bed. As you always did.

You didn't expect it to end feeling near boneless after spending the last few hours with the man that had initially been your companion for said party as a favor to your sister, bodies slick with sweat and without a stitch of clothing separating you. Coherent thoughts had ceased to form the second you two stepped foot into your apartment and he immediately hoisted you into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, and he brought you to orgasm so many times you lost count.

There was an air of utterly sexed out bliss that surrounded you that only shattered when both your labored breathing had evened out, and he pressed a kiss to your collarbone and spoke again. "I believe this is where we part ways, sweet girl."

Would it be entirely too dramatic if you said you felt your heart splinter at his words? Probably. But in the moment, that was how it felt. Like a rug had been pulled out from under your feet and you were immediately dropped from a vibrant fantasy world and straight back to the bleak reality that was your day to day.

"Should've known this was coming," you scoffed out, propping yourself up on your elbows as he pulled away, unable to hide the sting of disappointment playing at your features. "Should be used to it by now I really don't know why I even thought you'd be different, but fuck it. That's on me--"

"Wait, Y/N stop. Did…did you think I was about to leave because--"

"You got what you wanted. Fucked the new girl, novelty's gone, probably realized my sister's better, really I'm used to the song and dance. So really, everything's fine. Go. I'm a big girl, I'm not about to cry and moan about it." If only you could have fought against the tears that were stinging at the back of your eyes so you could actually sell the pitch.

"And here I thought you were about to kick me out of bed so I was just beating you to the punch. Leave with a shred of dignity, you know?"

His muttered words felt like ice water washing over your entire body, immediately reaching for him in the relative darkness of the bedroom, your fingertips tracing the marblesque features of his face as you touched your nose to his. "Who would ever be stupid enough to kick you out of bed?"

Your breath hitched when his fingers curled at the curve of your waist, his thumb stroking your skin and lightly brushing the underside of your breast. "If you say you don't want me to go then--"

"Stay." The word came out all too quickly, making you bite the inside of your cheek from how desperate you saw yourself the second you said it. No taking it back, now, you inwardly hissed. Fucking pathetic. "I--I mean only if you want to, if you don't really no harm no foul just pretend I didn't say anything--"

The rest of your words died in a surprised little squeak when he cut you off with a kiss, wrapping his arm around you and maneuvering you so that your back was once again laid flat on the mattress. "I want to," he sighed against your lips.

You two had settled into the center of the bed, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingertips traced down the length of your arm. "For longer," you blurted out, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw.

"For longer what, sweetheart?"

The endearment slipping from his lips had your heart doing  backflips in your chest. "You said something earlier about being yours if I wanted. For tonight or for longer. There's my answer. For longer."

The smile he gave you somehow shone brilliantly despite the dim lighting of your bedroom, with only the moon providing even the smallest glimmer of light. "You might reconsider that answer once I subject you to my cooking in the morning, darling."

"Well, nobody's perfect, Doctor Laing, but I won't hold that against you."

A/N: Welcome to Kinktober, everybody! I'm a couple days late because I literally just finished banging out (pun absolutely fully intended) the smut scene minutes before posting this. Like I mentioned before, I'm hoping to do 5 stories as an initial goal but I have 15 planned out. Anything that I don't end up making in October will still be made somewhere down the line, it's just gonna move down the priority ladder.

It has been a long while since I wrote smut, so please be gentle, I feel like I am babey again with how rusty I am. And also it's the first time I'm writing Laing so also…be gentle.

I'm already working on the next story which will be 'bath/shower' with an older Magnus Martinsson, so hopefully that'll be reaching your dashes in the next few days 🫡

Here's a gif for everyone that reads until the end:

everything taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

kinktober 2023 taglist: @azula-karai-27

[viranellee]

the hate show eddie gets when he's completely justified in his anger towards billy will always be something i will never understand. his opinions, ideas, comments, views being treated as irrelevant & unimportant for years, being forced to move to bass (dare i mention that the only reason he agreed in the first place was out of his genuine desire to appease billy), having his parts literally re-recorded by billy without his knowledge or consent, not even being allowed to write said parts, his only moment to shine during the pittsburgh concert and make his grandmother proud being stolen by billy are all very understandable reasons for his deep-rooted resentment. in a cruel twist of fate watching the love of his life, who happens to be billy's wife and mother of his children, choose her marriage with billy, who eddie deems an unworthy husband and father, over him, reiterates and confirms his deepest fear - that compared to billy, he will always be the second choice. never seen, never heard, never appreciated.

the worst part is that i really don't think eddie truly hates billy the way we're led to believe. all he's ever wanted is the approval and praise of a man who couldn't care less about giving it. when billy does give him that approval at the chicago concert, albeit forced and wholly ungenuine, eddie is quick to tell him "i love you, brother", and while we inwardly cringe at his inability to read the room, it's completely logical that he can't. eddie reacts instinctively, rushing to thank billy for the praise he's been craving all his life. the fact that he has a black eye due to billy himself, who had punched him just an hour or two ago, the fact that any shred of true camaraderie and friendship that might have existed between them is completely and utterly ruined because of eddie's one-night affair with camilla doesn't occur to eddie. in that brief moment before billy brings him back to reality with a few hard-hitting words whispered in his ear, his biggest dream has come true.

of course, this isn't meant to excuse some of the things eddie has said or done. he's very flawed, as the writing is very quick to point out, and the magnitide of his flaws and wrongdoings is amplified through his bitterness and jealousy, which ultimately influences his decision to leave the band. but as a final nail in the coffin, as if eddie hasn't gone through enough already, the show, led by its surprising pro-daisybilly agenda, decides to punish eddie in a move that can only be described as "every tongue that rises against billy dunne shall fall" and strips him of his original book ending, in which he becomes a successful record producer. instead, he is given by far the most unsatisfying and saddest ending of all the band members. graham, while no longer working in the music field, gets what he wants most - a happy family. daisy and warren continue their careers and collaborate together, even having children of their own. karen becomes the frontwoman of a punk band. billy gets to enjoy a long, happy marriage with camilla, and goes on to pursue a renewed relationship with his second love daisy, aided by his late wife's blessing. eddie, on the other hand, hopelessly tries to replicate, or at least re-live, the six's success through mediocre bands, but to no avail. locked in his bubble of shame, he doesn't attend the funeral of the only woman he has ever loved, in fear that his presence there is unwanted. it's as pathetic as it is tragic.

he looks at julia dunne, a carbon copy of her mother, and talks, talks, talks to the camera, hoping that it will give him closure. it doesn't. nothing ever will.

[mischievoushiddleston]

Sensual Temptation

Paring: Tom Hiddleston x Reader x Eric Winter

Warning: Threesome

Masterlist here

It was an evening Y/N would never forget. The air was electric as she entered the luxurious penthouse suite. The city lights shimmered through the large windows, casting a gentle glow into the room. Tom Hiddleston and Eric Winter, two of Hollywood's most charismatic men, stood there waiting for her. This was a night she had only dreamed of, but it was happening, and the anticipation made her heart beat faster.

"Good evening," Tom greeted her with that unmistakable smile that could make anyone's knees weak.

"Hey," Eric added, his voice warm and inviting. Stepping forward, he handed her a glass of champagne. "I hope you're ready for an unforgettable night."

Y/N took the glass, feeling the bubbles tickle her nose as she took a sip, her eyes darting between the two men. Their gazes were intense, full of desire that mirrored her own.

Tom approached her, his hand gently touching her arm. "Shall we begin?" he asked softly, his British accent sending shivers down her spine.

"Yes," she whispered, barely able to contain her excitement.

Eric stepped behind her, his hands resting on her hips. "Let's make this night unforgettable."

Tom leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His tongue teased hers, eliciting soft sighs from her. Eric's hands glided up her sides, his lips trailing over her neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made her skin tingle.

"Let's go to the bedroom," Tom suggested, his voice hoarse with desire.

Y/N nodded, allowing them to lead her into the luxuriously furnished bedroom. The bed with its silk sheets beckoned to her. Tom and Eric began undressing her with a reverence that made her feel like the most precious person in the world.

Tom's fingers skillfully unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her shoulders, while Eric opened her skirt and let it fall to the floor. They admired her body, their eyes drinking in every inch of her as if they wanted to etch the sight into their memories.

"You're beautiful," Eric murmured, his hands exploring her curves and making her feel warm and desired.

Tom's lips followed the path of his fingers, kissing her shoulders, her collarbone, and descending lower. "Absolutely breathtaking," he agreed, his breath hot against her skin.

Y/N reached out eagerly, eager to touch them as well. Her hands slipped under Tom's shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his chest, while Eric's shirt followed suit, revealing his toned upper body. Both were perfect, and she couldn't get enough.

Eric's hands found the clasp of her bra, and with a skillful movement, it was gone, leaving her exposed to their hungry gazes. Tom's mouth found her nipple, sucking and teasing until she cried out in pleasure. Eric's hands massaged her other breast, his touch firm and demanding.

"Lie down," Tom instructed, his voice gentle yet firm.

Y/N obeyed, stretching out on the cool sheets, her body already vibrating with excitement. Tom and Eric stripped completely, their erections evident and ready.

She lay there, her naked body stretched out on the silky sheets, her senses overwhelmed with anticipation. Tom and Eric stood before her, their muscular bodies exuding pure masculinity. Their eyes roamed over her perfect forms, feeling the heat rising between them.

Eric knelt beside her on the bed, his hands gliding over her thighs, parting them gently, while Tom leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers again. His tongue demanded entry into her mouth, while Eric's fingers found her wet pussy and began to massage it gently. Her body arched with pleasure, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

"You feel so good," Eric murmured, his voice deep and husky. He lowered his head and let his tongue glide over her clit, making her gasp with pleasure.

Tom's hands roamed over her body, stroking her breasts, massaging them firmly. His lips found her neck, leaving moist, hot trails. "We want to hear you scream, Y/N," he whispered against her skin, his voice a promise of pure ecstasy.

Y/N could barely think, her body instinctively responding to their touches. Eric's tongue played skillfully with her clit, while his fingers penetrated deep into her, driving her to the brink of madness. Tom's hands kneaded her breasts, playing with her hard nipples, every pull and squeeze making her cry out in pleasure.

"Please..." she pleaded, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"Please what?" Tom asked, his eyes sparkling with desire. "Tell us what you want."

"I want both of you..." she barely managed to say, her body trembling with excitement.

"Then you'll have both of us," Eric muttered, his voice a dark promise. He withdrew, and Tom took his place between her legs. She felt the tip of his hard cock against her wet opening, and another moan escaped her lips.

"Are you ready?" Tom asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, please," she answered, her voice trembling with desire.

With a powerful thrust, Tom entered her, his hard cock filling her completely. She was so wet and ready for him that he effortlessly slid deep into her. A loud moan escaped her lips, and her body tensed with pleasure.

Tom paused for a moment, letting her feel the full length of his cock, before slowly withdrawing and then plunging deep into her again. His movements were powerful and possessive, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge of ecstasy.

As Tom moved inside her, Eric knelt beside her head and guided his hard cock to her lips. She willingly opened her mouth and took him deep inside, letting her tongue glide over his length and sucking him eagerly.

"You feel so damn good," Tom gasped, his movements becoming faster and more intense. He leaned over her, his lips finding her breasts again, sucking and kneading them as he thrust deep into her.

Y/N was overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her body. The combination of Tom's powerful thrusts and Eric's hard cock in her mouth made her tremble with pleasure. She could feel the climax building inside her, every movement, every touch bringing her closer to the edge.

"I'm so close..." she gasped, her voice trembling with lust.

"Come for us," Eric murmured, his voice a dark, demanding promise.

With one final deep thrust, Tom exploded inside her, and the intensity of his climax sent her over the edge as well. Her body arched with pleasure, and a loud cry escaped her lips. Eric followed shortly after, his hot seed filling her mouth, and she greedily swallowed.

Tom, Eric, and Y/N lay exhausted and satisfied next to each other, their bodies still trembling with the intense lust they had just shared. But the mood in the room quickly changed as their eyes met, and the unspoken longing flared up again.

"Ready for a second round?" Eric asked with a mischievous grin, his hand gently sliding over her hip.

"I thought you would never ask," Tom replied, his eyes flickering with desire.

Y/N could feel the heat rising within her again as she looked at the two men. "I'm ready," she said, her voice a soft whisper filled with anticipation.

Tom sat up and gently pulled her towards him, his hands caressing her back and drawing her closer to his hot body. He let his lips glide over her neck, leaving moist, hot kisses on her skin, while Eric knelt behind her and let his hands glide gently over her buttocks and thighs.

"On all fours," Eric commanded softly, his voice deep and longing.

Y/N obeyed, lowering herself onto hands and knees, her body vibrating with anticipation. Tom knelt before her and lifted her chin, his lips finding hers again, kissing her eagerly and passionately.

Eric positioned himself behind her and let his fingers glide gently over her wet pussy, preparing her once more for what was to come. "You're so ready for us," he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.

"Please, Eric," she pleaded, her voice trembling with lust.

With a powerful thrust, Eric entered her, his hard cock filling her completely. She moaned loudly, her body tensing with pleasure as he began to move inside her. His thrusts were deep and powerful, each one bringing her closer to the edge of ecstasy.

At the same time, Tom took his place before her again, his hard cock throbbing with anticipation. She willingly opened her mouth, taking him deep inside and letting her tongue glide over his length, sucking him eagerly.

"You feel so damn good," Tom gasped, his body tensing with lust.

Eric quickened the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. "Come for us, Y/N," he demanded, his voice a dark, longing growl.

With one final deep thrust, Eric exploded inside her, his hot seed filling her, and the intensity of his climax sent her over the edge once more. Her body arched with pleasure, and a loud cry escaped her lips as she exploded in an ecstatic climax.

Tom followed shortly after, his hot seed filling her mouth, and she greedily swallowed.

Exhausted and satisfied, the three of them collapsed onto the bed, their bodies still trembling with the intense pleasure they had just experienced. But even in their exhaustion, the desire between them remained palpable, and they knew that this night was far from over.

[justanapparatus]

talking to swifties about taylor: god get over yourself and criticize her every once in a while

talking to anyone else about taylor: every tongue that rises against her shall fall

[shvroyism]

ok nevermind, why is Rhaenys saying Rhaenyra allowed Jaehaerys to be murdered???. Sorry, its fuck her again for me.

[roguelioness]

fables from the field

Day 9 - Lend an ear

[written for ffxivwrite2024]

Rating: T Words: 1236 Pairing: none

“I can never understand how you people tolerate such weather,” Alyzen complains as she settles on the ground next to the beautiful marble headstone. “So much for always watching over the city. You can barely see Ishgard with all this snow.”

As though right on cue, the snowfall slows, and gradually comes to a stop, the clouds clearing up just enough for the city, with all its towers and spires, to come into sharp focus.  She shakes her head. “Must you prove me wrong at every turn, my friend?” she teases, but the ache in her heart is as heavy as lead.

She sits in silence by Haurchefant’s grave for several minutes, watching as the day grows darker and the city turns its lights on. The sun is but an orange blur in the horizon; before long it has gone to slumber, and the first of the night’s jewels gleam in the sky.

“I met Francel on the way here,” she remarks. “It was nice seeing him again. I have not had the chance to visit Stephanivien yet, I should stop by the manufactory soon…” she trails off. “Aymeric has been elected temporary leader in place of the archbishop,” she starts again, rubbing her chilled hands together. “And his first act in office was to join the Eorzean alliance.” Her gaze turns distant, a small, melancholic smile lifting the corners of her mouth. ‘Though I suspect you must already know that. And must be unsurprised by the announcement. You always did have faith in him-” a sob tries to work its way out, but she forces it down. 

It takes a few seconds to regain her composure, but when she does, she continues. “The ceremony was… she tries to search for the right words. “Well attended.And quite moving. You would have enjoyed it; everyone smiled and cheered, and there was so much hope in the air…” Her tone turns bitter. “You should have been there. You should have had a chance to see what Ishgard will grow into, you should have been there to guide the people along their new path.” Rising in volume, her anger causes Espoir, the sensitive bird he is, to move to her side and coo softly at her. “You should have been there to celebrate with me! To- to- to be my friend, damn you! Where was my cup of hot cocoa when I returned to Ishgard, Haurchefant?” Her tears, barely restrained, flow freely. “Why could you not have just pushed me aside? Why did you have to take the blow meant for me? Why, Haurchefant?” 

She wipes haphazardly at her face; her damp skin freezes in the blustery wind. “I ask Hydaelyn why she took you, but I get no reply. I ask why Ysayle had to give her life, and she remains silent. And now, when Estinien is-” the words seize on her tongue; she has been so filled with terror over his fate she cannot bring herself to say them out loud.

But Haurchefant has always heard her secrets and her fears, and this too she shall share with him. “Estinien is- taken. By Nidhogg. And-” her mouth and chin tremble; she has to grit her jaw to calm herself. “It is my fault. I should not have left him hold both the Eyes, especially when I knew that he had been struggling with Nidhogg’s influence. But we slew him,” she murmurs to herself, “we slew him in the heart of his lair, how could we have known his soul yet lingered?”

Alyzen falls into a troubled silence. Espoir settles down next to her, his weight a comfort pressed against her side. His presence, much like his former master, warms her up in the cold evening. He chirrups as a gust of wind ruffles his feathers, shaking them out elegantly before tucking his wings close to his body. She can’t help but smile; he is so endearingly loveable. 

Attempting to organize her thoughts, she recalls all she has experienced. There have been many revelations and she has not had the time to process any of it. Only now does it strike her that Lahabrea, the ascian who very nearly killed her, is dead. That his accomplice is dead. 

That she has slain yet another primal.

What are you, Thordan’s dying words reverberate in her head. 

The archbishop did not know. Could not have known. She has not breathed a word of what she’s done – what she’s become – to anyone; she did not think any of her companions could understand. But here, in the frozen Coerthan air, Haurchefant’s tomb serves as her confessional. 

“When I was Ul’dah to rescue Raubahn,” she begins haltingly, playing with the edges of her tunic’s sleeve, “I met a woman. She was quite strange, Drusilla. She gave me a soul crystal – a reaper’s soul crystal, she said, and that I would have to…” she clears her throat and stares up at the sky. “That I would have to forge a pact with… with the avatar within.” Exhaling, she starts to stroke Espoir’s feathers. “The avatar was a voidsent. Becoming a reaper, she said, would grant me great power – but I had to make a pact with the voidsent.” She smiles when Espoir coos contentedly as she scratches the top of his head. 

“I refused, of course. Voidsent are dangerous creatures; only a fool would choose to join their essence to one. Althyk preserve me, I had every intention of forgetting about… but then Zephirin killed you,” there’s so much rage in her tone, “he killed you and I could not stop him. I’ve fought primals and garleans and the Twelve-damned Ultima weapon and won, but I couldn’t stop him. I was- I felt so weak. So powerless. I am no healer, Haurchefant, it is… I have not the capacity to practice the white magicks, but fighting? That I can do. And yet, when it mattered the most, I failed.”

She takes a deep breath. Espoir senses her change in mood, and lightly butts his head against hers, making a soft, concerned chirp. “So I decided I would not be powerless. I would have my vengeance against Zephirin, against Charibert, against every one of the Heaven’s Ward, and on that blighted, voidspun bastard of an archbishop. I used the crystal. I called forth the avatar. And I forged a covenant with it.” Raising her chin, she adds defiantly, “I do not regret it. I slew every last one of them, watched as their bodies were eaten away and they turned into dust. I ground the dust of Thordan’s body beneath my boot and cursed him to damnation, and I would do it all over. And yet,” her shoulders slump, and she leans against Espoir. “Why do I not feel better? I have had my vengeance. I should rejoice. Instead, I am… empty, Haurchefant. I have killed Thordan and his Knights, but doing so has not brought you back. It has not brought Ysayle back. Estinien…” her throat clogs as she thinks of what has become of him, as she wonders where he is and if he is yet alive.

A soft breeze washes across her, lifting the ends of her hair, carrying with it the scent of chocolate. 

Though her eyes fill with tears, Alyzen smiles.  “I hear you, my friend,” she whispers, pressing her lips to the top of the cenotaph. “Thank you.”

[heauxplesslydevoted]

I’m absolutely devastated for Jordan Chiles if they really do take her bronze medal away. Every tongue that rises against her shall fall, idgaf