#i barely remember my tagging organisation

[cryss-heart]

It's been fifty years. Have some men.

[corpsoir]

really exhausted after thisd week already and its barely thursday

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day thirteen

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (oral (m receiving), anal sex, dirty talk, I genuinely don't remember the rest lmao help), angst, fluff

length : 7k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny

a/n : we're back, baby!!! hope you enjoy this one!!

•••

day thirteen

Noah called dibs on the shower first thing in the morning and neither Oli nor I minded very much as we cuddled deeper into the blanket for a little longer, wrapped up in each other, perfectly warm and comfortable. He had tucked my head under his chin, keeping me safe from the world and the cold outside of the bed, and lowly hummed a nonsensical melody that seemed to vibrate through my whole body in the nicest way. It would have suited me just fine to stay here with him forever, the noise of the shower in the background assuring me that there was another amazing man just a few feet away, waiting to join us again. Unfortunately, what did happen was that my brain caught up with the reminder that I needed to talk to Oli.

“You know I talked to Noah yesterday, right?” I mumbled against his chest, unable to resist leaving a little kiss on it. He hummed in reply, abandoning the melody he had been clinging to before. “He… he confided in me that he might want to try some things. With you.”

I’d barely registered that he had been stroking my back until he stopped. His hand remained there, large and warm, keeping me close, but just from the way the movement ceased I knew that he was deep in thought already. And I’d barely told him anything.

“Yeah? Like what?” His voice was low and scratchy after hours of not having talked at all and it made my whole body tingle. But I needed to concentrate. Choose my words wisely.

“I think he’d love if it you took charge a little. Dominate him. I think the actual words were along the lines of you doing with him whatever you pleased.”

Oli stiffened against me, his breath coming through a little heavier. This was the opposite of a rejection of the idea. I was sure I’d feel him grow in my hands if I let them wander a little lower.

“That what he said?” he asked, sounding even more husky now.

“Pretty sure he mentioned something about being on his knees for you too.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled, holding me a little tighter. “Yeah, I… I think I can do that.”

“I think it could really help him figure some things out. About how he feels about being with a man. With you. If that’s what you want too.”

“Aubrey, I can’t even begin to explain how much I want that. Fuck, I don’t think I brought the lube.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud, purely amused at the way he was already thinking about the logistics of things. It was so much more organised than I was used to with him, but I figured the idea of getting Noah to himself was enough motivation.

“Well. You and Noah have some press stuff to do now but then you have a few hours off before you need to be back at the arena. I could… get some shopping done. If you can manage being a big boy and doing the interviews all by yourself.”

“You should know by now how much of a big boy I am,” Oli chuckled, grinding his crotch against me.

“Fucking hell,” I giggled, squirming out of his tight grip and turning onto my back, moving my head just enough to still see him out of the corner of my eye. “You’re the worst.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” I sighed, as if the truth pained me in any way whatsoever, but the smile on my face said it all. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The sound of Noah turning off the water and fumbling around in the bathroom pulled us out of our little bubble. For now. There would hopefully be more than enough time later, for us, and for the bubble to become a little bigger.

•••

I was in the middle of Boots, studying the contents of the shelf in front of me, a shopping bag from a clothing store next to my feet, when my phone rang. As expected, it was Lia, who I’d texted to let her know that I’d be free for a while if she wanted to call on her lunch break. I didn’t give her a chance to even say hello when I picked up, much less waste our time with any small talk.

“Oli told me he loved me.”

What followed was a series of shouts and screams that pierced my poor eardrums to the point where I had to hold the phone away from my face, much to the amused stare of an elderly woman who passed me by and absolutely heard the commotion my best friend was causing.

“Okay, shoot, give me all the details, because I’m dying to know.”

“I can’t, I’m in the middle of Boots.”

“So? I don’t think anyone there will care. Unless- Oh my god he confessed during sex, didn’t he! That sly dog.”

“Maybe,” I admitted and found myself blushing. “But he meant it. He’s told me about a hundred times since.”

“Aubrey, my girl, I’m genuinely so happy for you. I knew that idiot would come around and realise he couldn’t let someone like you go. Honestly, it’s more of a jackpot situation for him than you.”

I giggled quietly as I continued perusing the shelf in front of me.

“Thank you. I’m… I’m really, embarrassingly in love with him.”

I almost drifted off just thinking about it.

“Well, I don’t want to dampen the mood on your news here but I gotta ask. Noah?”

“Yeah, Noah,” I sighed. “We haven’t exactly told him yet. I don’t want to put any pressure on him by letting him know that Oli and I have said it because I already know he feels like a third wheel for other reasons. But we also can’t keep this from him for much longer, obviously. We’ll meet with him again in a bit in the hotel to- um. Yeah. I’ll talk to Oli before the show, too. Maybe we can all sit down together afterward.”

“I’d say don’t stress yourself too much but that just feels like I would belittle you so I won’t. But that boy would be stupid as hell not to want to be with both of you. And I really hope he realises that in time, because all of you truly deserve each other. It’s time for you to be happy. Like, really deliriously happy.”

“Thank you, Lia. Honestly. I’ll call you with news as soon as I get them, promise.”

I was about ready to hang up, finish my shopping and head back to the hotel, when Lia piped up once again.

“Wait, why the fuck are you in Boots anyway? Is Oli making you run unnecessary errands as part of your questionable job description?”

“Not… really. We, uh, needed some stuff. Lube, actually. We really need lube. And I’m about to have a breakdown trying to decide which one to buy.”

Lia, to my utmost respect, wasn’t fazed at all.

“Now that entirely depends on what you need it for. Water-based: Great for toys but doesn’t last as long. Silicone-based: Don’t use with toys because there’s a chance it will dissolve them. Great for anal though because it’s long-lasting. Any other main ingredients, don’t even bother. Okay, my colleague is waving me in and she’s shot me the stranges look so she probably heard. Gotta go, text or call me when you can, love you!”

The silicone-based lube wandered straight into my basket. Along with another assortment of condoms. Just in case.

•••

I was the first one back at the hotel. I’d taken the liberty to decide that we’d meet again in Oli’s room, not only but also because he simply had the biggest and fanciest one out of the three of us. Fumbling with the nightstand, I was relieved to find a drawer to deposit my shopping in. No need to freak Noah out with the sight of lube that was absolutely meant for him.

Although, if anyone was currently freaking out, it seemed to be me. Ridiculous, really. I wasn’t the one about to go further in terms of first experiences with the same gender. Far from it. But maybe I knew that this could make or break it all. This could be Noah realising that, yes, he was into this and he wanted this forever. Or it could be Noah realising that he wasn’t actually into all of this at all. And without him and Oli being… a thing, of any sort whatsoever, I didn’t see this triad going anywhere. It would simply be cause for too much inequality, jealousy, confusion. It was a terrifying thought. Losing Noah. Even if I wasn’t quite sure I’d ever had him.

I needed to get my nerves under control. I was supposed to be here to support Noah when he faltered, not make it worse. I debated what kind of clothes to change into. I didn’t want to be too sexy - this wasn’t about me. But I also didn’t want to go too casual. Because this was anything but. In the end, I decided on a nice-but-not-overly-sensual set of underwear under a short dress. Easy access in case it was needed, but not expecting anything.

I was overthinking this, I realised. Especially when the door opened, both Oli and Noah all but falling into the room, their hands and mouths all over each other in such desperate frenzy that I couldn’t help but wonder how much teasing they’d engaged in on the way here. As soon as Oli spotted me sitting on his bed, he lightly pushed Noah away, showing me the most devilish smile.

“Thought I’d get him a little warmed up,” he grinned, so self-assured and smug with himself that I had to actively stop myself from rolling my eyes. I quickly crossed the distance between us, running my hands down Noah’s back with a hum.

“Plenty warm for sure.”

Noah easily pulled me in, kissing him with just as much passion as he had Oli and I was sure I could taste both of them on his tongue. I felt myself turning to putty in his hands, on the way to forgetting what the plan was completely, but Oli took it upon himself to grab onto my hair and yank my head back, not terribly harshly, but enough to coax a moan out of me.

Another thought I’d have to shelf for later.

“How involved do you two want me?” I asked, deciding that we’d at least need to be serious for a moment. “Because I’d love to get hands on but I can also literally sit in that armchair and watch.”

Oli turned back to Noah, giving him a nod and a look that told him it was up to him alone. Noah’s eyes flew back and forth between the two of us for a moment, before he finally seemed to settle on an answer.

“You can help Oli.”

“Help?”I grinned, my hand landing on his chest. “Help him make you his bitch? I can do that.”

I enjoyed the way he gulped, obviously nervous but getting a little more aroused at my words. If it hadn’t been so hot, it would have been ridiculous how willing Noah was to submit to Oli. I could only imagine how much it turned the other man on.

“We’re going to need a safeword,” Oli threw in. “Just in case.”

Noah nodded. I was relieved he didn’t seem to be anxious at the idea that we would do something that could potentially become too much for him. We’d be watching him closely all the way, but the risk of missing something was always there.

“I know,” I giggled. “How about “Blossom”? Your Powerpuff Girl?”

Noah groaned. “I hate it.”

“Yeah? Well, unfortunately your time to have an opinion on things has just ended, pretty boy. It’s “Blossom”. Help me undress him, Aubrey.”

And just like that, with his words and the way the tone of his voice changed, he had both of us in the palm of his hand. I moved onto Noah, my fingers on the hem of his shirt, when Oli stepped behind me, body pressed to mind, and whispered in my ear, “Tease him as much as you like. He needs to know he's ours and ours alone. But make him keep his hands to himself. Here's here to receive, not to give.”

I nodded, slowly moving the fabric up his torso, fingertips trailing along so softly he would barely he able to feel it at all.

“Hear that?” Oil addressed Noah. “No touching. You be a good boy and take what we give you. If you can't behave, we'll just have to take other precautions.”

“Like wha-” Noah didn't get to finish his question as Oli pressed a finger against his lips.

“You'll find out.”

When Oli went to work on Noah's trousers, he wasn't half as gentle as my fingers were as they pried the shirt from his chest, inch by inch, until I could lift it over his head and discard it fully. Instead, the sweatpants were roughly pulled down in one go, landing at his feet and leaving Noah to struggle getting out of them by himself.

My hands were reading over Noah's tattoos, my mouth following, never missing a chance to worship his body, to let him know how incredibly perfect he was for us, to have him sighing and heating up under my treatment. Oli had moved behind him, spoiling him in a similar fashion, until he pressed his body fully against him, his hardening erection touching Noah's arse with too many layers in between still.

As if completely on their own accord, Noah's hands flew back, reaching for Oli, for anything the other man would give him. Instantly, Oli stepped back, letting Noah's hands grasp for nothing at all. One look from him was enough to make me follow suit. Noah looked back and forth between us, almost shocked at the reaction. He should have known better. Should have known that Oli Sykes didn't make empty threats.

“What did I say?”

“No touching,” Noah grumbled.

“And what did you do?”

“Tried to touch.”

I was amazed at the scene unfolding before me. Noah, broad shoulders, a little taller than Oli, so often so sure of himself, so often so dominant when it came to me, was hanging his head at being scolded, still fighting against his instincts but desperate to be good for Oli. However unnatural the idea might have seemed at first, right now it seemed perfectly correct. Oli would not necessarily give him what he wanted, but he would get exactly what he needed.

“So, what do we do with you now?” Oli ran a teasing finger along Noah's shoulders, revelling in the control he had over him. “I think you need to sit out for a while. Take a seat on that armchair and think about how to be better when it's your turn. Because I really need my dick sucked so I can concentrate but it's not gonna be you.”

I could see that Noah was about to protest, but as soon as I caught his eye, I gave him a slow but clear shake of my head. For just another moment, the fire seemed to burn in him, then he left out a dramatic sigh and walked over to the chair. My eyes were still watching him when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder slowly pushing me to my knees. I didn't resist.

Not when Oli stood in front of me and opened his trousers. Not when he pushed them down, revealing his tented underwear which quickly followed in being discarded. Not when his hand landed under my chin, making me look up, just inches from his hard cock.

“Be a good girl and take me deep, yeah? Make me come with that talented mouth of yours so we can get on with our boy.”

My enthusiastic nodding was disrupted by Oli pushing his body forward and pressing his tip against my lips. I parted them willingly, not bothering with teasing or foreplay as I wrapped a hand around his shaft and immediately swallowed him. I loved the weight on my tongue, the tight hold he had on the back of my neck, the taste of him running down my throat. Even if he hadn't asked, I would have been on a mission to take as much of him as I could.

Above me, I could make out Oli babbling praise and encouragement but my eyes were ringing with the effort of being more, being better. Once, twice, I gagged, but I wasn't deterred. Working in more and more of him, I relaxed my throat, my body, my hands now limp at my sides as I was unable to concentrate on anything else.

“Noah, I swear to god, if you touch yourself!”

I couldn't even care enough to try and take a peek. Oli's attention was back on me, words on how well I was taking him, how good he felt in my mouth, how much he wanted to shoot down my throat only encouraging me further.

“Fuck you're getting so good at this, soon you'll swallow me whole, baby.”

Not soon. Not soon.

Taking another deep breath and willing myself to become as relaxed as possible, I moved my head again, further and further and further and-

Oli exploded the second my nose bumped against his body. I greedily swallowed as much as I could, failing spectacularly as he started pulling away, leaving more in my mouth and on my lips.

“Fuck, Aubrey, where’d you learn that,” Oli chuckled but then immediately pushed my mouth close, his hand on my chin. “Don’t swallow it all. Let him have a taste, too.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. With slightly wobbly legs, a mild headrush, and a wet sensation between my legs, I made my way to Noah, straddled his lap and held my head in his hands. I waited for him to give me confirmation that this was okay, but he nodded so eagerly I really wouldn’t have had to. Grabbing his chin, I pulled his mouth open as mine descended on it, kissing him deeply and giving him everything of Oli I had left. He lapped it up, desperate for a taste, desperate to please, his hands suddenly on my hips.

“Someone just can’t behave, can they?” Oli tutted behind me. Noah’s hands flew away as if stung, suddenly remembering he’d violated the one rule that’d been put to him.

I scrambled off his lap, unsure of how Oli would deal with the situation but knowing that it wouldn't involve me staying on top of Noah. Without any words, Oli motioned for Noah to get up, then left him standing in the middle of the room while he walked over to his suitcase, shedding the rest of his clothes as he went, and rummaged through it until he found the desired piece of fabric. A thin scarf.

I watched, in awe and increasingly aroused, how Noah, so against his nature, stood still, naked and hard, willingly letting Oli take the reigns. The display of trust made my heart skip a beat. Oli moved behind his body, taking his arms until they met at his back, then skilfully tied the scarf around Noah's wrists until he was immobilised.

“Not too tight?” he asked, all traces of dominance briefly leaving his voice as he checked up on the other man, who wriggled his fingers and then shook his head. Immediately, Oli fell back into his role. “On the bed then. On your knees.”

Noah obeyed, struggling to get into the requested position without the use of his arms, almost losing his balance in between, but making no move to complain. Oli watched, proud and satisfied and already growing again.

Noah looked like a vision. On his knees, more submissive than I'd ever seen him, his head hanging low even though he hadn't been asked for it, hair tickling his face. The muscles in his back and thighs were flexing again and again, his cock already leaking. He was getting turned on by this, finally getting what he wanted from Oli, and it was nothing short of beautiful.

In fact, the sight had distracted me so much, I didn't notice that Oli had grabbed something else until a  sleeping mask slipped over Noah's eyes. He briefly became restless at the sudden removal of one more of his senses, but as Oli whispered something in his ear, he nodded again, the tension leaving his body.

“Aubrey,” Oli called out and I sat up straight, as if I’d gotten hit by lightning. This wasn’t even about me, but the tone in his voice was hard to resist. I wondered what it would be like to have all of it directed at me. “Come here.”

Just like Noah, I didn’t hesitate. He motioned to the bed, but before I could move onto it, he grabbed my arm, this time actually whispering in my ear quietly enough that Noah wouldn’t hear.

“Let’s see how many times we can get him to the edge, shall we?” As cruel as it sounded, Oli’s voice was all the more soft for it. And the idea of edging Noah until he couldn’t think straight anymore sounded more than appealing. And oh, was it a treat.

Oli and I were everywhere, switching between hands and mouths and fingers and tongues, leaving Noah a sweaty, moaning mess, blind and bound, with no clue as to what was coming next or from whom. I let my hands wander, taking the time to trace every single one of his tattoos, feeling along every muscle in his back, then letting my mouth follow the same trails, putting it on his cock for just a second before pulling back. Oli followed suit, licking up and down the other man’s body until he was moaning and sighing and twitching against his restraints.

“You’re allowed to beg, pretty boy,” Oli murmured before capturing Noah’s lips in a kiss as I took him in my mouth, deeply, getting him as close as I could before the warning signs set in and then removed myself from his body completely. Again. And again.

“Please, come on, I just- fuck- I-”

Even through his pleading, he sounded constrained, holding onto whatever control or power he thought he could still cling to in his position. Oli was behind him now, making sure that Noah wouldn’t completely lose his balance as I sucked on him again, fingers moving around his body until they came to rest on his throat, choking him ever so slightly.

“You’re still not letting go, Noah,” he scolded.”You still think this is a fight you can win. Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me? Don’t you want to please me? Do what I’m telling you? I know you want me to go further. You don’t just want my cock in your mouth, do you? You want it somewhere else. You might just get it, love. But you have to let go for me.”

I could basically see the switch flip in Noah’s mind. As if he knew he was going to be safe. That he could trust both of us to only do what was best for him. That he could tap out any time. But that if he really wanted and needed this as much as he had let on before, he needed to allow himself to submit to it.

Without any further prompting from either of us, Noah bent forward, still kneeling, until his forehead hit the mattress, beautifully submissive, giving up control and putting it in our hands.

“Please,” he whispered again, more desperate now, more whiny, more willing not to hold back.

Oli looked so smug at having succeeded it was almost annoying. I motioned toward the nightstand, hoping he’d understand I’d stashed the lube there, and then went back to my ministrations of the gorgeous man in front of me. Peppering kisses on his back as it was now so nicely presented to me, I struggled to move my hand underneath his body again, finding his dick harder than before, precum immediately spilling onto me. He shuffled, just enough to make more space, but stayed in position.

When Oli returned, kneeling on the bed behind Noah, his fingers were lubed up, the bottle dropping onto the mattress next to him.

“So gorgeous, love, so pretty and spread out,” Oli praised as he carefully started circling Noah’s hole. I removed my hand, not wanting to overwhelm Noah with the multitude of sensations he was being presented to. Instead, I laid down on my side next him, wordlessly communicating with Oli as I pointed toward the sleep mask. He nodded, allowing me to slip it away from Noah’s head.

“You good?” I asked, quietly, petting his hair, letting the soft strands run between my fingers. He turned his head toward me, cheeks reddened and eyes glossy, utterly stunning, and whispered a yes back. I pressed my lips against his, swallowing his sighs and moans, the way his breath hitched as Oli prepared him. I couldn’t get over how gorgeous he was right in this moment.

Even when Noah broke the kiss, breathing heavily, eyes shutting in an emotion that seemed to be somewhere between pleasure and overwhelming sensations, I stayed by his side. I didn’t watch what Oli was doing or how, I simply couldn’t tear my eyes from Noah. His reactions, his high-pitched noises in between and then a long, drawn-out moan that echoed through the room, told me enough.

Noah was a mess, moaning and mumbling to himself, barely holding his body up anymore on his knees, face fully smushed into the pillow, when Oli let go of him. He quickly fumbled with the scarf around Noah’s wrists, undoing his work and throwing the item on the floor. He rolled Noah, who didn’t resist at all, on his back, then grabbed his arms and placed delicate kisses on the skin where he had been tied.

“So gorgeous,” Oli praised as his kisses moved upwards until his mouth was on Noah’s again. “So pretty and ready for me, love.”

They kissed for a while, Oli keeping as much distance as he could between them as Noah was now so hard and leaking precum that I feared he’d come from the slightest touch.

“Do you think you can take me?” Oli asked and was met with such enthusiastic nodding that both of us had to bite back a chuckle. “How do you want it? It might be easiest if you tried to ride-”

“No,” Noah found his voice, husky and rough. “Like this. Please.”

“Anything for you,” Oli whispered against his lips.

My heart was bursting at the seams with love. I could have spent the rest of my life watching these two together, these men that had captivated me and made me fall so hard, looking so utterly beautiful together, like they had always been meant to be. I couldn’t put in words how much I wanted to three of us to be that. Meant to be. Forever.

Oli went to kneel between Noah’s legs, grabbing more lube that he generously lathered his own cock with, gasping slightly at the feeling, before pushing Noah’s knees back to make room. Noah’s hand reached for mine and as I held onto it, I almost allowed a confession of love to pass my lips. It didn’t matter what we were doing, what constellation was currently involved with what, who was on the sidelines - we were in it together, the three of us, always.

Oli pushed in, slowly, eyes always on Noah, pure concern masking the pleasure. Noah’s face was slightly screwed up, but he was breathing deeply, and within moments he was begging Oli for more.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Oli moaned as he slowly bottomed out. “Can’t believe no one’s done this to you before, you’re fucking made for this, so perfect.”

Noah’s low groans were increasing in volume as he squeezed my hand tightly, the other fisting the bedsheets. Oli was still moving with utmost care, changing his angles until-

Noah whailed and Oli might have just been the happiest person on the planet. With a slight increase in his tempo, he started hitting the spot, again and again, until I was worried Noah was going to start crying from the intensity.

“‘m not gonna last,” Oli mumbled, thrusting into Noah and tethering on the edge of losing control. “Touch him, Aubrey.”

Noah didn’t need much more. As soon as I wrapped my fingers around him, a single stroke pushed him over the edge. With a noise I’d never heard him make before, he arched into me, moved harder against Oli, and spilled all over my hand and his stomach. The resulting tension made Oli fall apart as well, moaning shamelessly as he pushed into Noah a few more times, until he was fully spent.

Both of them seemed overwhelmed with the experience, but the post-orgasmic pleasure was palpable. Oli had carefully pulled out and all but collapsed on the bed next to Noah so I took over aftercare duty, cleaning both of them up as much as I could, dropping words of praise and soft kisses wherever they would let me. I only stopped when Noah deftly pulled me down next to him, cuddling into me, then reached behind him to make Oli spoon him.

I listened as their breathing started to even out and the room fell quiet. Noah’s head was buried in my chest, pressed so deeply into the fabric of my dress that I wondered how he was still able to breathe, while Oli was fully attached to his back, as if attempting to fuse into one person. I didn’t think either of us could really grasp what we were feeling in that moment, but somehow, it had changed us fundamentally. The trust and love that had just been put on display between us.

I let the two of them rest for as long as I could, but I knew that people were waiting for us, a whole arena full of them, so before Noah could fully drift off, I herded both of them into the bathroom for a quick shower. Or what should have been a quick shower.

The space was much more limited than the one at Oli’s place and there was an additional person, but we still somehow squeezed into it, battling to stay under the water under soft giggles and sighs. We all did our best to clean each other, freshen up so we would be presentable, but it wasn’t until Oli’s hand travelled up the inside of my thigh that I was reminded of the lingering wetness that had nothing to do with the water raining down on us. It brough a pitiful moan to my lips.

“Feels like someone really enjoyed the show,” Oli teased, his eyes darkening as he sent a smirk my way. “I think we owe her an orgasm, Noah.”

Noah didn’t need much more invitation. Pressing himself against my back, his hand joined Oli’s between my legs, both of them feeling my arousal clearly as I almost buckled under the attention. I’d barely registered how turned on I’d been, fully focused on the two men and their enjoyment, but now that they were on me and I was finally naked, I knew it wouldn’t take much.

Oli’s lips found mine, immediately pushing his tongue into my mouth as his finger circled my clit, dragging another moan from my throat and straight into him. Noah left a kiss at the top of my hair, one arm sneaking around my waist to hold me steady as his hand rested on my stomach, the other… I couldn’t tell for sure, but the stretch was harsh enough that I assumed he’d immediately pushed two fingers into me.

My body felt like pure jelly as the two played with me, skillfully touching and teasing me and allowing me to fuck myself on their hands. I didn’t even attempt to be quiet when the euphoria rushed over me, clawing at Oli’s arms, my head dropping against his chest, riding my orgasm under praise and touches all over me until the oversensitity took hold of me. Both of them immediately noticed, withdrawing their hands but keeping me up until I could safely stand again.

I kissed Oli again, then turned around to do the same to Noah, who looked so happy, so ecstatic, that I wished I could frame this moment and keep it with me in perfect clarity forever.

And then Noah dropped his head to my shoulder and mumbled, so quietly that I wasn’t sure Oli could hear or even if I had heard correctly, “I think I could fall in love with a man.”

•••

I was floating on a cloud. So what if we hadn’t fully resolved the situation? So what if Noah still didn’t know that Oli and I had said those words to each other? So what if Noah hadn’t fully admitted to his feelings or that none of us had technically heard Oli say what was going through his mind either? None of it was enough to bring me down.

I caught up with Oli as soon as both of us had a moment free in our schedules, immediately allowing him to pull me into his lap in his dressing room, both of us desperate for the closeness.

“How are you feeling?” I mumbled into his sweatshirt as my head dropped to his shoulder. I was straddling him fully, having accepted that this was somehow a happy place for both of us, his arms holding me securely.

“So fucking good,” he laughed as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I don’t know if I needed to fuck a man that badly or if it’s just Noah but holy shit.”

We both giggled against each other, bodies heaving with the noise, holding each other that little bit tighter as the memories appeared in both of our minds. I’d known it wanted this again and again and more the very second we had all collapsed in the bed but it was more than a relief to hear Oli felt the same. The calm and quiet returned only slowly.

“And… and everything else with Noah?” I finally asked.

Oli stayed quiet for a while. It didn’t worry me - I knew he was probably weighing his words, trying to figure out what exactly he felt and how to articulate it, and I gave him the time he needed, my fingers moving under his sweatshirt to draw soothing little circles on his skin.

“I… I want him. For everything. All the time. The way I want you. I don’t know if it’s too early to say anything else but… I think I’m in love with him.”

I almost started crying right then and there. Lifting my head, I put both of my hands to the sides of his face, needing to make sure he was here, saying these words.

“I’m in love with him too.”

“Do you think we can do this?” Oli questioned, his fingers softly combing through my hair, but his eyes never leaving mine. “The three of us?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll never forgive myself if we don’t try.”

Oli pressed a short kiss to my mouth. “That makes two of us.”

•••

About an hour later, I’d made sure Oli was where he needed to be, grabbed the biggest portion of food I could find while scarfing it down with worrying speed, then planted a kiss on Noah’s lips when I met him in the hallway and turned away to get to the sound desk quickly enough that I wouldn’t see his reaction. Nicholas gave me a thumbs up on the way out.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Becky mused as soon as I approached, opening the barrier for me and waiving me in. She leaned in, just to make sure no one else would hear when she continued. “Did you get good dick?”

“Well, technically, I didn’t, but…”

“Oh, you dirty girl, what did the three of you get up to!”

I didn’t indulge her in any details but my smile seemed to tell her everything. We had enough to do as it was - even if that didn’t stop her from throwing me knowing looks every now and then and wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.

The Bad Omens set passed by in no time at all and I was starting to enjoy how some details were already becoming something akin to a routine. Still, Becky very much ordered me around, trying to explain as much as possible when we had a moment, especially in between sets. I almost wished I could take notes, just to make sure I would really remember. Even though I wasn’t quite sure what for.

“Oh, by the way, are you going to be on the early flight out to Dublin tomorrow?” Becky asked out of nowhere, almost throwing me out of the loop. I fished the phone out of the pocket of my jeans, showing her the time I’d jotted down for the flight that most of the bands and close crew was on.

“This one? Why?”

“Perfect,” Becky grinned. “Nothing in particular. Just wanted to catch you before you get on the plane. Got something to give you tomorrow.”

“Something- what?”

“Nothing at all. Oh, look, time to start the trailer for Bring Me, no time to talk!”

I was getting sick and tired of surprises. Or, I would have been, if all of them hadn’t been so damn perfect lately. Still, I couldn’t help giving her the side-eye for the next hour, impossibly curious but knowing just as well she probably wouldn’t spill. And with Oli on stage, my brain was fried anyway as I watched him, utterly happy and ecstatic, easily giving one of the best shows of his life.

Becky didn’t even reimprand me when I completely lost focus when it was time for Antivist. In fact, all duties forgotten, my eyes were solely glued on the two men currently on stage. The one I was already able to call my boyfriend and the one he had just introduced as a very special person. Both of them were. Very special people. My heart was so absolutely irredeemably lost to them that, no matter how deliriously happy I was about being able to call Oli mine, I also knew fully well that we wouldn’t be complete without Noah.

My whole body ached to have him too. And I was sure Oli’s did as well. Time didn’t matter. Distance didn’t matter. Societal expectations didn’t matter. All I needed to be happy now, truly, fully happy, was for Noah to be honest with us and, hopefully, so hopefully, become ours as much as we were already his.

I barely noticed the next two songs passing, entirely too caught up in my thoughts and the way Oli looked so ridiculously gorgeous on screen and how stupidly lucky I’d gotten with him already.

“Go.”

I turned back to Becky, confused and unsure if she’d spoken to me at all. The band was off stage, waiting for the montage to come on before performing their encore, so the room was marginally quieter. She nodded, confirming my question, and motioned randomly toward the left.

“There’s some reserved seating in 101, left to the stage. Go. Enjoy the last songs. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you-?”

She didn’t let me finish, almost violently pushing me against the barrier which didn’t open quite in time to let me out. I didn’t ask for more encouragement, sprinting through the venue via as many shortcuts as I could remember, flashing my pass and moving down the rows of seats where a few select friends and family had gathered just as Doomed started playing.

It had been a while since I’d gotten to watch Oli perform from such close proximity but it never failed to stun me wholly. The way he threw his entire being into performance with absolute disregard for his own wellbeing, driven my nothing but pure emotions, memories, whatever energetic currents were running through the arena, was easily one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. I loved him. Irrevocably.

He spotted me during Lost. An almost undetectable skip in his actions. A stare right in my direction. Pointing toward me. A kiss thrown my way. I couldn’t help but send one back, watching as he caught it and put it in his pocket, face never changing, but I knew he meant it. He meant it all.

And I knew we needed to talk to Noah. Tonight.

•••

I was already waiting backstage, right where the band would come off stage but safely out of view from the audience, when the show ended. The others passed me by first on their way to their dressing rooms, Mat throwing me a smile and giving me a pat on the shoulder as if I needed any sort of encouragement. And then Oli appeared, stunning, sweaty, happy and all I could do was run straight into the arms that were opening just for me and press a kiss to his mouth. He pulled me closer to his body, completely ignorant of the way I stuck to him in the heat his skin emitted and who was I to complain. I would have him anyway I got him, freshly showered or or completely sweaty alike.

“I love you,” Oli said, freely and confidently and my heart wanted to leap, still so incredibly enamoured and overwhelmed any time he said those words and never wanting him to stop.

“I-”

The words didn’t even manage to leave my mouth before I saw him.

Noah.

Standing behind Oli, his eyes locked with mine, his posture tense, his face unreadable, then crestfallen, then… resigned.

We hadn’t told him yet. We hadn’t told him and now he knew. He knew we hadn’t told him. That we’d kept it from him. That we’d spent who knows how long basking in our own happiness. Without him. And suddenly he looked like all fears he’d ever had combined.

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

...the dawn of ♥ kink!week ♥ is upon us...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ those faint of heart, look away and shield thine eyes — miserable sinners, prepare; for we have entered the unholy week ∼

∼ day one brings us our beloved metallic lady ♥ Jane Murdstone ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

tags: #alternate universe - modern setting #dominatrix #bdsm #bladder control #watersports #piss kink #mistress/slave #dom/sub play #fetish clothing #leather gloves #face slapping #degradation kink #humiliation #golden shower #masturbation #aftercare #kink!week

don't look away (as i bare my soul to you) (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

You will always remember the night you met her.

You were attending a house party organised by one of your good friends — very much a social butterfly, unlike yourself — and you weren't surprised there were all sorts of interesting people there, and that one of them just happened to be the tallest, most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. 

You could tell she was exceptionally bored as she sat on the couch alone, long legs crossed, typing on her phone and absentmindedly sipping her wine. You probably stared at her for a full minute, just awkwardly hanging by the door with your own drink, taken by her commanding presence and how stunning she looked just in her casual black slacks and blouse that was unbuttoned just enough that you could almost see her bra if you angled your head the right way. 

You surely would have stared much longer had she not lifted her gaze and raised her eyebrow at you. You immediately felt your cheeks burn and your palms sweat, embarrassment overwhelming you, as if you’ve been caught doing something terribly wrong. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, but you didn’t know what could be said after so rudely staring at someone, so you turned to leave.

What stopped you from fleeing in shame, with your tail between your legs, was that she smirked and gestured you to join her, tapping a spot next to her on the couch. You immediately obeyed. No other option even crossed your mind — something about this woman drew you in.

“Jane Murdstone,” she said with a delicious, velvety English accent, extending her arm towards you as you sat next to her. You noticed how piercingly blue her eyes are.

“My palms are sweaty,” you said stupidly, looking at her with your mouth slightly agape, feeling as if you were in the presence of a goddess.

“Then wipe them on your trousers,” she said calmly, cocking her head. The corner of her lips barely perceptibly curled upwards.

You wiped your palms on your trousers and went on to shake her hand. You immediately noticed how big it is compared to yours, and you didn’t know why it flustered you so much. She gave you a firm squeeze and lingered a second longer than necessary. 

“Will I get a name, or just reports on the state of your palms?” she asked.

You stuttered while telling her your name, but she didn’t comment on it.

“Do I have something on my face?” she just asked, leaning back into the couch and swinging her arm over the headrest. 

“Why?” you asked back, confused.

“You stared at me for a full minute,” she answered, smirking, and took a sip of her wine. She never once broke eye contact with you — it made you squirmy, but you couldn’t look away, as if under a spell. You felt as if she was looking at your very soul — bare and unprotected and vulnerable.

“I—I’m sorry, I just thought… I just thought you were beautiful,” you managed to utter.

“Did you, now?” she asked, looking very amused .

You nodded.

“Well, thank you. But don’t you know it’s quite rude to stare?”

That finally made you avert your gaze in shame. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, don’t worry — I like making people flustered. I’m having a lot of fun right now.”

You looked up at her again. She was staring at you with that piercing gaze that made you feel completely naked, her blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “And what do you do for fun?” she asked.

Oh, you were completely enraptured by her.

You spent the entire evening talking about everything and nothing. You were surprised how comfortable you felt with her, despite her commanding presence — or maybe because of it. She never paid any attention to you stuttering, nor your blushing — she just sat there and waited until she got an answer to a question she asked. It made it hard to avoid talking about yourself — and oh, it felt so good to talk about yourself for once. 

At one point you asked her what she did for work — and then choked on your drink when you heard the answer. It surprised you, even though her commanding presence could have been an inkling — but she just looked so normal, with her dark brown hair in a loose bun, her tasteful and minimal makeup, and her slacks, blouse and pumps that made her look like a businesswoman on her evening off.

“A dominatrix? That’s really cool,” you said, blushing, “I just didn’t expect it. Don’t get me wrong, but you just look very normal.”

She raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her wine. “Oh, and what did you expect? Latex? Or leather?”

You felt very silly because that is exactly what you expected. “Sorry, I just… I just never met a dominatrix before.”

“So, not familiar with that world, I presume?”

“Not really. But, I mean… I’m… interested. I mean, not interested interested, don’t get me wrong. I just, you know, had like, thoughts, and I’d never actually do it, but I think about, I mean not think about, just like… I wonder sometimes, you know, like what it’d be like, like, none of the hardcore stuff, but just, you know—”

She interrupted your pathetic rambling. “Would you want to try it?”

You froze. “What?”

“Would you want to try it?” she repeated. Her expression was completely calm and neutral, as if she just asked you about your favourite colour. 

“I—I—I mean, that would make no sense. I was always… I’m boring. I just go to my job and then I go home. It couldn’t be into something like that, like, it’d be so out of character and it… it just makes no sense that I would, you know, be like…. into it,” you fumbled.

“I didn’t ask you if it would make sense. I asked if you’d like to try it.”

You spent the next couple of seconds just staring at her, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. She just sat there in silence, calmly sipping her wine, waiting for you to answer.

And finally, you did.

“Yes.”

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

You glance at the clock. 

It’s 12pm — another five hours until the end of your work day, and you already can’t focus on anything else besides the pain in your bladder. 

You press your thighs together — you can do this. 

You take in a deep breath before turning your attention to the pile of paperwork laying on your desk — mocking you and waiting for you to go through it. And you will — you must. It has to be done by the end of the day. You won’t let yourself get fired — you’ll push through.

You wouldn’t want to disappoint your Mistress, after all.

Jane has been your Mistress for about six months now, and slowly you are starting to venture into kinks you never thought you’d admit being interested in — to anyone — ever. You were fully prepared to take those with you to the grave.

Truth be told, you once thought the same about trying out a BDSM lifestyle, and then… well. Then you sort of stumbled into it — and now it’s something you do on a Monday afternoon after working hours.

Or, in this case, during working hours.

Your belly tingles with excitement just thinking about it — no one knows you’re engaging in a sexual fantasy of yours right now.

You clench your thighs together again — both to help with the fact that you really need to pee right now and to give provide some friction. You know, however, that you absolutely cannot touch yourself, nor go to the bathroom — not until 6pm today, when your scheduled session takes place.

You smile and start sorting through the paperwork in front of you. You’re giddy with anticipation.

6pm can’t come soon enough.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°��̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

You can barely stand when you get to her apartment and ring the doorbell. Your bladder hurts — you don’t think you can hold it in much longer.

She opens the door in a black, silken night-robe. Her long hair is loose and fluffy around her shoulders, she isn’t wearing any makeup, and she’s barefoot. She seems to be naked underneath the robe. It’s unusual — she normally puts on something more fitting for her role. however, you still think she looks gorgeous — perhaps even more so than usual.

She eyes you up and down. “Come in,” she says, face impassive, then turns around and walks towards the playroom. “Coat, bag, shoes,” she commands, not bothering to turn around or look at you as she disappears into the room on the right. 

You quickly hang your coat and bag and take your shoes off before you follow her, pressing your thighs together and clenching your pelvic muscles as hard as you can.

She waits for you in the playroom, sitting on the big couch next to the window. She gestures for you to stand in the middle of the room.

“Stand here and don’t move. You’ll watch me get dressed. When I’m done, you can go to the bathroom.”

As much as the thought excites you, you don’t think you can last even another ten minutes.

“But, Mistress, I… I don’t think I can hold it in much longer. It’s been an entire day.”

“Well,” she says, tilting her head. She watches you squirm from the couch, lips curling in amusement. “If you can’t make it, you’ll just have to go right here.”

“R-right here?” you repeat. You can feel your cheeks starting to burn. “But… I can’t.”

“Well, if you can’t then you won’t,” she simply says and gets up from the couch. She walks towards the little vanity in the corner of the room and stars sorting through her makeup. “And if you can, you are welcome to. However — you don’t get to use the bathroom until I’m done.” She sits down on the little chair and starts applying moisturiser on her face. 

“But—but—” you start, but she interrupts you. 

“You will not give me attitude, or there will be consequences,” she says, looking at you through the mirror. The tone of her voice sends a shiver down your spine — cold, uncompromising, and so fucking hot. 

“Yes, Mistress,” you say and your voice sounds squeakier than you intended. 

“Poor little thing — always so flustered around me,” she coos while dabbing concealer under her eyes, saccharine condescension oozing from her voice. “You just need to be stepped on, don’t you? You need someone to tell you what to do and when to do it — even your bodily functions. Can’t even do that yourself.”

“No, Mistress,” you say, shuffling on your feet, pressing your thighs together. Your bladder really hurts. 

“Stop squirming,” she says, dusting eyeshadow on her lids and glancing at you in the mirror. “You have one very simple task and it is to stand still. Or are you too incompetent even for that?”

“It really hurts, Mistress. May I sit down?” you ask.

“No.”

You try your best not to squirm. You press your thighs together as tightly as you can, trying to take deep breaths to soothe yourself and breathe through the pain. You somehow manage to zone out — you watch her do her makeup, as if in a trance, and you’re proud of yourself for doing rather well. You make it through powder, mascara, blush, eyeliner and lipstick, and before you know it, she’s done. She fluffs out her hair and checks her makeup in the mirror, and then she gets up and turns to look at you.

“You’re doing well,” she says. “A bit too well. Is this too easy, hm?” she asks, approaching you.

“No, Mistress.”

She stands in front of you — and fuck, she’s so tall. It makes you feel all fuzzy and tingly inside. 

“Oh, I disagree,” she says. She throws the robe off of herself, revealing that she is, indeed, naked underneath. You mouth waters. “You’ll help me get into my corset.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She turns and walks towards the couch. Her ass and thighs jiggle as she walks. You lick your lips, and your belly tingles — you hope she lets you touch her today. You’d love to worship her.

Laying on the couch, you only now realise, is the outfit she picked for herself for today — a black corset, a leather harness, black stockings, and — your favourite — black leather gloves. Black heels are on the floor next to it. You see no panties of any kind, which is a bit unusual, but not unwelcome. 

She takes the gloves first. She makes eye contact with you as she slowly puts them on, taking her time, wiggling her fingers and clenching her fist after she slides each of them on — and it’s so hot you almost forget abut the burning pain in your bladder. Your mouth gapes open and your heart beats faster.

“Close your mouth,” she says sternly before she moves on to the stockings, and you immediately obey.

She puts one long leg on the couch and slides the stocking on — painfully slowly — then does the same with the other one. You lick your lips and squirm again. “Don’t. Squirm,” she commands.

“Sorry, Mistress.”

She slides her feet into black heels, then grabs the corset before she slowly walks to you, swaying her hips. Her breasts bounce as she moves and you can’t help but stare. She’s even taller now with the heels on, and it makes you giddy. You feel so tiny next to her.

As soon as she reaches you, she slaps you across the face — hard. You gasp.

“You can’t even follow simple directions — stand still and keep your mouth closed. How many times to I need to say it, hm?” she says and grabs your jaw with her gloved hand. She presses her fingers into your cheeks so hard it hurts. “Answer me.”

“I—I’m sorry, Mistress, it won’t happen again,” you utter, eyes wide, chest slightly heaving. You have to crane your neck so far back to meet her gaze — you love it.

She lets go of your jaw, and then immediately slaps you again, making you suck in a sharp breath.

“How is your bladder?” she asks as she wraps the corset she’s holding around her torso. It’s already buckled in the front, but the laces on the back are loose. 

“It hurts, Mistress.”

“Poor thing,” she says, her face stony, as she pokes your belly with her finger. You tense your muscles and clench your thighs together. 

“Please, Mistress — it hurts,” you say. You’re doing so well — but if she does that again, you know you won’t be able to hold it in.

“Does it now?” she asks condescendingly. 

“Yes, Mistress.”

She simply chuckles. 

“Tie this. Make it tight.”

She turns around, holding the corset pressed to her stomach, and you immediately start working on the laces. The pain in your bladder is becoming worse by the minute, especially after her poking it. You can barely concentrate on your task, but somehow you manage to push through. 

She turns back around to face you. “Only the harness left. Do you think you can make it?” 

She reaches inside the corset to adjust her breasts. Your gaze wanders towards them. You bite your lip as you watch her gloved hand fondle her breast, cupping it and pushing upwards. “Eyes up.”

You look up. The intensity with which she looks at you makes you shiver — it always does. With her, you always feel like you’ve nowhere to hide. It’s like she can see inside your soul, like she truly sees you — pathetic and shivering and naked — and she never averts her eyes. 

“I can make it, Mistress.”

“Are you quite sure?” she asks, and her blue eyes twinkle, but her face is otherwise unreadable. 

“I think so, Mistress.” 

It hurts — badly — but you don’t want to give up now that you’re so close to making it.

“Wait here,” she says and walks out of the room. You watch her ass wiggle and her hips sway as she leaves.

The moment she exits the room, you squirm and press your thighs together as hard as you can. You don’t know how to feel — on one hand, it would be really hot if she made you pee your pants, and on the other, you don’t think you could handle the shame you’d feel. You like humiliation — but this? You’ve never done something like this before. You decide you’ll try your best to hold it in until she lets you go to the bathroom.

She returns quickly, carrying a big water bottle. She hands it to you. Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“Drink,” she says. “All of it.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You start drinking, and she watches. It’s a big bottle, and you aren’t sure you can drink it all. You can feel your belly filling with water, and the pressure in your bladder is unbearable. You try to lower the bottle, pace yourself, but she tilts it and pushes it into your mouth. 

“I said, all of it.”

She reaches under your shirt and grabs your hips. You’re still drinking. She gentle runs her gloved hands over your stomach — lightly, teasingly — then under your bra. You continue drinking until you finish the bottle as she fondles you, sending tingles down your spine.

“All done?” she asks, running her fingers over your ribs. 

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Give it to me.”

She takes the bottle and puts it on the little table next to the couch, then returns to you.

“You must be so uncomfortable,” she says, sliding her hands under your shirt again, putting one on the small of your back and the other on your bloated belly.

“Yes, Mistress.” You’re sure you can’t make it at this point. “How long… until I can go to the bathroom, Mistress?” you ask.

She gently massages your belly and you whimper. “Oh, but you could go right now, and it would all stop.”

“But I can’t, I’m too embarrassed.”

“And what if I commanded you to go, hm? You wouldn’t disobey me, would you?” she asks, circling around you as she caresses your stomach, until she’s behind you and pressing her body into yours. She leans down and you feel her hot breath on your ear. You whimper.

“I can’t, Mistress, please, I—”

She grabs your neck from behind you, her gloved hand pressing against your windpipe. “Do not give me attitude.”

Suddenly, she grabs your hips and presses her fingers into your pelvis. You gasp and your muscles give in — and the next thing you know warm liquid is trickling down your thigh. Horrified, you watch a dark, wet spot form on your trousers.

Jane lets go of your waist and walks to stand in front of you as you continue to stare at your crotch, deep shame colouring your cheeks red. You can’t help but gasp in relief as the painful pressure bladder finally subsides, which makes you even more embarrassed. You hide your face into your hands and press your thighs together. It just keeps going — you have’t peed all day. You feel it trickle down your calves and onto your feet until it pools on the floor. Tears of shame prickle in your eyes. 

“Look at me,” Jane says. You slowly lower your hands and clutch your shirt, breathing deeply and trying not to cry. You look at her. She’s standing a few feet away from you, watching you, her gaze as intense as ever. “Don’t avert your eyes.”

You watch her, tears streaming down your face, your underwear, your trousers and your socks uncomfortably wet, as she walks towards the couch and takes the harness. She puts it on, but it takes a while. You just stand there — embarrassed, blushing, crying and wet. 

You aren’t wet just from your own piss, however.

Something about the humiliation makes you incredibly aroused, and Jane knows it — oh, she knows it well. She knew it from the first night you talked — you didn’t even have to tell her — and she pushes you, always pushes you just a bit further than the last time.

She walks back towards you, now clad in the elaborate harness that hugs her neck, her waist, her arms and her thighs, black leather belts crisscrossing. She looks like your dirtiest fantasy.

“Kneel,” she says. 

You kneel into the puddle of your own piss, wetting your trousers even further. 

You look up at her. As she isn’t wearing any underwear, your gaze wanders to her pussy — it looks pink and delicious and absolutely delectable. You wonder if she’s command you to eat her out, and you shiver in anticipation, heat pooling in your belly. 

She lifts her leg and puts her heeled foot onto your shoulder. “Since you’re already so filthy,” she says, “it’ll make no difference if you’re even filthier.”

You stare at her pink, slick folds and your mouth waters. “Tilt your head back. Look me in the eyes,” she says. You do as you’re told and you meet her gaze. She watches you, her lips parted and her eyes dark with lust. 

You gasp when warm liquid hits your chest. You feel her piss slowly wet your shirt and your bra and drip down your stomach into your underwear. She keeps eye contact the entire time. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she says. “Filthy girl.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you whimper, cheeks red, chest heaving. 

“Nasty, dirty girl,” she says, her voice deep and thick with lust. “I bet your pussy is all wet, hm?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you breathe out. She looks like a goddess, looking down upon you. Your mind feels fuzzy and you feel as light as a feather. You’d do anything she asked of you right now. You just want to serve her.

She removes her foot from your shoulder, and you barely notice that the heel dug into your flesh — you only feel a sort of a euphoria. 

“Stay on the floor and touch yourself. You can come.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you say and immediately slip your hand into your soaked underwear. 

“Sit down, ass on the floor.”

You do as she tells you and sit down in the puddle of piss. Your trousers immediately soak through on your ass, but you don’t care.

She looks down on you as you start rubbing your clit. “Look at you. Nasty girl. You like sitting in your own filth, hm?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, rubbing your clit faster.

“No wonder you need me to guide you. You can’t do anything yourself except rub your pussy like a bitch in heat.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you whine. You’re already getting close. “Ah, Mistress, you’re so good to me.”

“I’m too good to you. Nasty girls such as yourself only deserve a firm hand.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper. You slip your fingers inside of your dripping cunt and start pumping your them in and out — but your trousers are in the way, and you quickly unzip them and pull them down your thighs along with your underwear, and you’re now sitting bare in a pool of piss. You spread your legs as far as you can as you continue to fuck yourself, hitting your clit with your palm every time you pump your fingers into your aching pussy.

“Look at you — so desperate. I don’t even have to touch you for you to fall apart. Such a dirty fucking slut.”

“Ah — yes, yes, Mistress,” you whine. You’re so close.

“Look me in the eyes when you come. I want you to know who you belong to — every orgasm you have is mine, do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Mistress, ah—” you breathe out as your eyes meet her icy blue ones. 

“Come for me,” she says, her voice cold and stern and uncompromising as she watches you, her gaze baring your soul. You are unable to hide from her — she is witnessing you at your lowest, in a puddle of piss rutting against your hand like an animal, and yet she never averts her gaze. She disarms you, renders you unable to do anything other than obey. You belong to her.

And you love it.

You keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you, fast and hard and intense. For you, for you, it’s for you, you think as ecstasy overwhelms you and the only thing you’re aware of are her blue eyes, watching you, judging you and absolving you at the same time. You keep fucking yourself through the aftershocks, mumbling, “I’m yours, Mistress, it’s for you,” as you slowly come down from your high, unsure if anything you say is intelligible. 

She is silent — she waits for you to come to your senses.

A wave of shame hits you as soon as the orgasmic euphoria is gone. Tears pool in your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You want to hide your face in your hands or your shirt, but you’re covered in piss and it disgusts you. “I’m disgusting,” you cry, tears blurring your vision. You can’t look her in the eye.

“You aren’t,” she says as she takes off her gloves, and you want to believe her, but you can’t. 

You cry and you cry, and she helps you clean up. You shower together, and she wordlessly holds you while you cry, and then helps you put on clean spare clothes that you keep at her place for occasions such as this one. You cry some more, and she caresses your hair and lets you cling to her.

She isn’t a very gentle woman — you learned that quickly — but there is something about her presence that comforts you. You feel safe around her. She says few words, but they are picked carefully — and she won’t argue with the mean voices in your head. She says what she means exactly once.

“I’m glad you trusted me with this,” she says as she bids you goodbye at the door. You say nothing — you just hug her. She tenses up, not expecting it, but then she relaxes and hugs you tighter. She smells like citrus shower gel, and you know you do too. You look forward to lying in your bed tonight smelling like her. 

“See you next week, Jane,” you murmur into her chest. She pulls back and kisses your forehead — a rare show of affection.

“Take care,” she says. 

As you walk back home, you feel pleasantly light.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @opheliauniverse @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @zephyr-is-tired @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @alexusonfire @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @softshrimpy @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld

[thesparklingwriter]

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒛𝒆

~ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

Featuring: childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli

Tags: hurt/comfort, the genshin men are always working (except zhongli), gn!reader, petnames, suggestive if you squint (childe | kaeya), zhongli’s is a bit mean-I wouldn’t say toxic but a bit dismissive

Word count: 2k (about 500 each)

An: this is the first post I’ve made like this, and I might not make them all so long next time (this is also like my first or second time writing some of these characters so pls be nice if they’re a little ooc) lmk if I’ve missed anything in the tags ^^

taglist | masterlist

𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆

“Childe, come on, you said you wouldn’t do this to me anymore.”

Childe frowns. He doesn’t know what he could have possibly done to elicit such a response in you. he’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman, so why have you been avoiding him? And why are you standing here, having a go at him?

“Can you at least tell me what was more important than me?” You ask. You know the answer already, but you ask the question in the hope that something may have changed. But with Childe, nothing changes. He’s constant, regardless of what’s happening around him.

“Nothing is, you know that.” He chuckles, reaching towards you to pull you into a hug. You twist away from him and step back, out of his reach.

“We were supposed to go out for dinner two weeks ago and you never showed. You don’t even remember?”

“I’m sorry, I was busy. I was…” His voice trails off as he realises that he actually can’t tell you even if he wanted to. How would you feel if you knew that the hand that wiped tears from your face also wiped out entire organisations? He loved you, so much so that he didn’t want to know—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t want you to be afraid of him.

“Yes?”

“I was busy.”

“You can’t even tell me what you were doing? For Celestia’s sake, Childe, you work at the bank. What could they possibly have you doing that eats up so much of your time?”

“It’s classified,” He says weakly. Deep down, he knows you’re right—the bank was a terrible coverup for working for the Fatui.

“Of course.” you huff. It’s always classified. “When you’re allowed to tell me the truth, come back to me.”

“Hang on a sec, what do you mean by that?”

You sigh. “I can’t keep coming in second place to your work. When things have calmed down, we can—”

“Are you breaking up with me right now?”

You wring your hands together. You didn’t want it to come to this, but you know you can’t—shouldn’t—settle for this treatment.

“No. I think you just need time to get your priorities straight.”

~

You’re not usually one for gossip, but when your friend asks about the whereabouts of the ginger that normally follows you around, you can’t help but let the words spill out of your mouth.

“I’m always second place to his work,” you complain, crossing your arms. “It’s tiring, it really is. He’s great and all, and he always takes good care of me when he’s around, but he rarely ever has enough time.”

“Maybe he’s not right for you,” your friend quips, right as Childe creeps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Who isn’t?” He asks, glancing between you and your friend. He’s almost certain they’re using this chance to get one over on him, to coax you into their arms and he. is. not. having. it.

“We were just talking,” you say softly, attempting to lessen the tension. He ignores you.

“Come on,” he says, walking away and taking your hand as he leaves. “I’m making this up to you.”

“How?”

“You’ll see."

𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄

“You forgot our date again.”

Diluc looks up from the cup he’s polishing, his face morphing into a look of grim realisation as he comes to terms with the fact that he did it again. The cavern is almost empty, even though it’s barely even closing, and a heavy silence falls between the two of you.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he says wearily, putting the cup down and taking your hands in his. “I don’t even have an excuse.”

You know his excuse, whether he knows you do or not. If you’re being sidelined so he can protect Mondstadt in times of need, you almost can’t be too mad. He just has a lot on his plate, right?

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hand and stroking his cheek lightly. “It’s okay.”

Diluc blinks, surprised by your leniency. “Don’t do that—don’t justify this on my behalf. It’s not ‘okay’, yn.”

Now it’s your turn to look surprised—Diluc can take criticism. If anything, the fact he doesn’t take it to heart is what makes him able to act upon it. But he’s clearly taking this seriously.

“I’ll make this up to you,” he says, glancing around the shop. There’s still no one inside, and if his memory serves him correctly, around this time things are incredibly slow. He shouts something to his colleagues about going on his break, and takes your hand.

“Diluc, wait. You can’t just skip out on work—”

“I’ve been skipping my breaks for the last few weeks, and we’re incredibly slow at this time of day. They won’t miss me for a couple of hours.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

“Placing so much importance on my work is what got us here in the first place. It wouldn’t hurt to not be so rigid once in a while.” He mutters. “Let’s go somewhere nice for dinner, it’s on me.”

~

Later, when your friend catches you parting ways with Diluc at the restaurant, they watch you with ever growing curiosity. Wasn’t he supposed to be working?

“Hey! Long time no see,” They grin. You wave back, grateful for the company. Leaving Diluc’s side always makes you feel somewhat lonely—you never know when you’ll next get a chance to be with him like this. “Isn’t Diluc supposed to be working right now?”

“Yes, but he forgot one of our dates, so he was just making it up to me.” You cross your arms, suddenly feeling defensive. It’s okay if you criticise Diluc to his face, but hearing someone else try to say something about him, especially when he’s not around to defend himself, really puts you on edge.

Your friend chuckles. “How much time did he give you?”

“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying.”

You hadn’t even realised Diluc had returned, consumed by the sheer audacity of your friend’s comment. He looks at you, pointedly ignoring your friend and smiles conspiratorially. “I’m taking the evening off. Let’s find something entertaining to do.”

𝒌𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒂

“Well, hello sunshine,” Kaeya drawls, looking up from his stack of paperwork. He looked tired, but it seems that your presence has brightened up his work filled day. Or it would have, if you weren’t wearing such a spectacular scowl. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You skipped out on our date last week.” You grumble, crossing your arms.

“You came all the way here to tell me that?” Kaeya stands up and closes the door to his office. He didn't really want the whole of headquarters hearing this particular conversation. On his way back from the door, he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on top of yours. “We can talk about this later, hmm? I have a lot of work to do and I can’t really apologise properly here, can I?”

“You can.”

“Not the way I want to.”

“Kaeya, you’re supposed to be on a break right now. What could possibly be slowing you down so much?”

Does he really want to risk telling you that it’s your fault? That the thought of you always gets him off task, and then he has to work extra hours to catch up, and then he skips out on work to come and see you, getting even more off task. Is it really fair to blame you for his inability to prioritise?

“I have things on my mind,” he mutters. “Things that are going to get worse if you don’t leave.”

“I’m getting seriously worried for you, you know? I barely see you anymore.”

Kaeya feels himself melt with every word. He can’t see your face, a conscious decision he’s made so that you can’t manipulate him with your beauty, but he knows the expression you're pulling. He kisses your hair lightly. “I’m sorry, darling. You know I am.”

You spin around in his arms, staring at him accusingly. “You’re not sorry. You’re just saying that so I don’t dump you.”

“Would you dump me?”

“No.”

“See, that would be an irrational worry on my part.” Kaeya chuckles, kissing you softly. “A rational worry is one about my supervisor walking in on this.”

“You’re on a break. You should be allowed to do whatever you want.” You complain.

“I’m not falling for this, yn.” He sighs. “I’ll come pick you up at eight, okay?”

You scowl at him, raising your eyebrow.

“I promise. Hand on heart. Knight’s honour. Just please leave my office before I lose all sense of reasoning.” And he’s not exaggrating. He’s five minutes away from locking his office door and kissing you until your lips are swollen.

~

You were glad for your friend for wanting to meet up. It took your mind your mind off of whatever Kaeya had planned for you. But they were also very good at being nosy, so when you stood up to leave, you had to keep the incoming 21 questions in mind.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Kaeya’s picking me up,” you smile, picking your bag up.

“Are you always at his beck and call like this?” They complain. “You never give me second chances when I stand you up.”

“That’s cause you never apologise.”

“Neither does Kaeya.” They scoff, mumbling to themselves. Later, when you and Kaeya are walking to an undisclosed location as part of his apology for neglecting you, he scoffs and says: “I always apologise. Don’t I, sunshine?”

You grin to yourself and tug his hair playfully. “Not with words.”

𝒛𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊

“Welcome home, love,” Zhongli says, as you return home. He doesn’t move from his post in the kitchen, occupied by the food on the stove.

“Hello,” You smile, following the sound of his voice. “I thought we were going out tonight?” You say, when you catch sight of the food on the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist, expecting him to say something like ‘I decided to make you you favourite food instead’ or ‘I thought we could have a picnic’. He doesn’t.

“Hmm? When did we plan that?”

“Last week,” You say pointedly, pulling away from him. “You don’t remember?”

“I wasn’t under the impression that that was a serious arrangement.” He says passively.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Why would I not be?”

“That’s really selfish of you. If you didn’t want to go, why not just say that instead of leading me on?”

“I wasn’t aware that there was a specified amount of times a month we had to go out. It simply seems excessive to me.” He doesn’t look up from his cooking, almost unaware of the fact his actions are upsetting. As far as he knows, people don’t often place such importance on where they eat. It’s about eating together, is it not?

“Your self-righteous ignorance seems excessive to me too.” You huff.

“I’m not sure why you’re so upset.”

“Then listen to what I’m saying.”

Zhongli turns the stove off and turns to look at you. Moments like this always remind him of how out of touch he can be—something that was as minor as going out to eat has truly upset you, even though it meant barely anything to him. “Alright, I apologise.” He says “I’m listening. Talk to me.”

“I know it sounds silly, but eating at home is different than going out. It’s less stressful.” You sigh, you lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I guess these kinds of things don’t mean anything to you, but they do mean something to me.”

He takes a deep breath. When did he allow himself to lose sight of the things you enjoyed? He couldn’t forgive himself for this kind of slight, let alone expect you to let it slide.

“I sincerely apologise, my love.” He sighs, gently wiping away a stray tear.

“Do you really care that little about the things I enjoy? Do you just do them because you feel you have to?” You ask him. You don’t allow yourself to fall into his arms, because then you know you’ll forgive him for it all without finding a solution. “Please be honest with me.”

“I don’t enjoy them all,” He says carefully. “Not the activities themselves. But I enjoy the joy they bring you, and the time we get to spend together.”

You sniff, pulling him into a hug and pressing your face into his chest. “Would it be better if we looked for things we both enjoy?”

Zhongli hums to himself. “Perhaps,” he says, gently stroking your hair. “But in the meantime, I don’t see why we can’t go out to eat anyway. That is, if you’re not opposed to the idea.”

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 7)

In which Tav really only wants to drown her sorrow in alcohol. And Astarion is basically being a very good boyfriend and also makes use of what he calls "handsome face and nice smile tax". (Basically imagine the Tiktok sound "what do I owe you? / don't worry it's on the house / reeeeaaally?" - anyone know what I mean?) Also Tav, Astarion, Daegin and Lira raise a toast!

Fun fact about this story: when I started writing this I thought it was gonna be a fun, quick three-part adventure. Now we are already nine parts deep that I've written and I am still not done... I was so naive... I will do a post tomorrow to make a chapter list of this, also... would you people like to be tagged? Tips on how to organise that in an efficient way? And always: thank you, thank you, thank you for all the love and support!

Song for this one: Drinks by Cyn (because Tav needs it)

And if you'd like: keep reading on on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

“Before you undress me, Astarion dearest, remember there is a snoring dwarf between us”, you proclaimed dryly as the vampire spawn made to lean over the table and stretched out his hand to caress your cheek. Also, a voice inside you wondered how smart it had been for Astarion to reveal his real being to these two arseholes.

“If he wasn’t conscious for the whole fight and me threatening your ex with writing my name with his blood on the wall, I think he’d neither notice nor object”, Astarion replied with a lopsided smile, but you could see the primal hunger in his eyes had subsided – for now. A look of worry now filled his eyes.

Lira chose this moment to return to the table, her arms full with everyome’s drinks. She stood on her tiptoes to lift everything on the table while trying not to spill everything.Then she huffed at Astarion and poked a finger into his chest: “I’ll have you know it is not very nice to leave me not only to carry everything but also to skip out of the tab. I barely had enough gold on me to pay for everything.” Lira looked angrily at Astarion and he had the good grace to look ashamed. “I’m sorry, Lira dear, but I had to check on Tav real quick. I’m hopeful you’ll understand and forgive me for my insolence.” He bowed gracefully before your friend which made her giggle and blush. “Apology accepted”, she beamed and went to look around the pretty empty table “Uhm, did you being worried about Tav have anything to do with Miyena and Eodin disappearing or…?” She let the sentence go on open-ended.

Her eyes were on Astarion, his eyes were on you, yours were on the two now ownerless shots of strong spirit that Lira had just brought to the table. You sighed deeply, then downed the first – Lira blinked surprisedly – then the second – her mouth opened helplessly – then started to have a go at your glass of red wine – and now even Astarion raised his eyebrows at you.

The vampire swiftly and silently moved over to you, putting a hand between your shoulderblades as you let your head slump on the table with a loud thud. All the rage you had felt like two minutes ago had suddenly vanished and had only left exhaustion in its place. The jolt of your head hitting the table made the glasses and goblets on the table jump and prompted Daegin to wake from his peaceful slumber. He found his mug in front of him, happily took a deep swallow but stopped abruptly when he noticed there was only water in it. Only when he had made a disgusted noise did he notice the changed lineup around the table and the sudden depressed mood.

“I guess, I fucked up”, you mumbled. Astarion drew calming circles between your shoulders but remained silent. Daegin, who seemed much more sober now than a few minutes ago, coughed and cleared his throat: “Could you repeat that? I don’t have elven hearing.”

“I fucked up”, you said louder, raising your head again and making a grimace. Then you borrowed your face in your hands again. “Why, because you two drove Miyena and Eodin off?”, the dwarf answered. You lifted your hands out of your hands a fraction to look at your friend. His sudden somber tone startled you. “Gotta be honest, wish I’d had the balls to do that quite some time ago”, he said and reached over the table to give your hands a quick squeeze. You watched him quizzically. That wasn’t exactly the reaction you had expected.

Astarion kept his hand reassuringly on your back, it slowly wandered up your spine. “I’m glad I could be of service then”, he chuckled softly and toasted to the dwarf before taking a long swig from his goblet of wine. You mimicked him, still not entirely relieved and still feeling empty from the unpleasant exchange. You almost drained your glass completely – right now you could’ve really enjoyed a nice buzz to forget this shipwreck off an evening; this alcohol better got to work soon. But getting yourself drunk wasn’t an easy task as an elf.

“Why though? What in the hells happened while I was away? I thought we were all thick as thieves – hah!”, you giggled at your own terrible joke than drank the rest of your wine. When you put down the now empty glass you tried to reach for Astarion’s cup that still contained a lot of his drink. But he caught you immediately and smoothly moved it out of your reach. You clicked your tongue at him – damned rogue.

Then Lira spoke: “Well, we don’t really know as well. It just seems – you were really the one who glued us all together. Quickly after you’d disappeared Miyena and Eodin seemed to have become closer. And, well, I know it sounds mean when I say it like that…” She started fidgeting. Astarion’s hand had reached your neck and softly started to knead the tense spots there. You melted into his cool touch.

Lira seemed to struggle to find the right words. “I don’t think you need to worry about being nice when it comes to these two”, Astarion chimed in “I’ve known them for the better part of one single evening and was already prepared to take out all their innards -  I assure you, not a common sentiment for me when meeting new people. And after how they treated Tav…”, his words slowed for a moment. Both Daegin and Lira looked shocked at first at the vampire’s open desire for violence but quickly turned to asking facial expressions after Astarion’s mention of their behaviour towards you. You swatted their questioning glances away with your hand since you didn’t want to go into that again. “Well”, Astarion said and the following words contained a faint hiss in his tone: “They both deserve whatever words you can find for them.”

With Astarion’s encouragement Lira seemingly decided that he was right: “Well, Eodin is such a…”, she struggled for a moment, obviously still not feeling comfortable with trying to not be nice “gullible idiot!” „Not the words, I’d have chosen, but alright“, you heard Astarion whisper under his breath while the half-elf broke into a rant so intense her braid of black hair started trembling. You chuckled at your partners silent remark and finally lifted your head up from your hands and leaned into him. You moved one arm behind his waist and slowly put your head on his shoulder to give him the time and space to decide if he felt comfortable with this soft display of affection. But when he felt you putting your arm around him he immediately pulled you in and pressed a small kiss on the crown of your head. His closeness felt so good you’d almost already forgotten how awry this evening had seemed to go only some minutes ago.

Meanwhile, Lira was still at it with some remarks from Daegin. Explaining how the tiefling seemingly had influenced Eodin (“this, dare I say… arsehole”, she whispered at one point to which Astarion proudly toasted her in a “hear, hear”-fashion) to take their thief business down other roads.

Of course, they always had been thieves, but Miyena’s vision had been bigger, more dangerous and would have definitely crossed a line. You had always chosen clients and contracts with the utmost care: checking background information, trying not to harm innocent people and deciding democratically. But the tiefling had wanted to take on contracts that could have harmed the hierarchy of powers in the city, hurting those that already almost had nothing. And Eodin had listened, seemingly hurt by your disappearance and he’d eaten up the ideas and the manipulation by Miyena. It had tainted him and had also tainted his image of you. Also, Lira and Daegin had talked for quite some time about getting out of the business altogether, to go why they still could and cut it with a profit.

“To conclude”, Daegin said, when the half-elf had reached a point in her rant that she was completely red in the face and could barely speak “Miyena is a goddamn snake and a bitch and Eodin is an…” At this point Astarion lifted a hand – the one that was not currently holding you - and proposed with a smirk: “Wait, before you finish, Daegin, this sounds like an excellent point to toast, don’t you think?” The dwarf had looked taken aback by the elf’s interruption but seemed to have been reconciled with the promise of more alcohol. Lira looked like she had calmed herself down a bit and nodded in approval. Astarion looked down to you softly: “Will you let go of me, my love, just for a moment? I know it’s an awful lot to ask…” You playfully pout at him but untangle yourself from him slowly. “You want me to help you carry stuff?”, you ask him. But the pale elf just winked and swiftly and disappears in the still growing crowd.

How was there even more space in here? And why the hell were there even so many people coming? Maybe it was a special band that made an appearance tonight? You stood on your tiptoes to try and throw a look downstairs. You could see the stage was currently empty except for two halflings seemingly preparing it for the next act. In hindsight you wondered how long there had been no music and only the busy bustling of the crowd in the background. But it wasn’t really a surprise you didn’t really pay attention to the stuff happening around you tonight, was it?

“Gods, you two are so cute”, said Daegin and pulled back your attention “it’s making my damn teeth hurt.” Then he spit out and stuck out his tongue theatrically as if there had been something bile in his mouth. “They are, aren’t they?”, the half-elf agreed in earnest, oblivious to Daegin’s act. She moved over to you and hugged you: “I’m so happy you two found each other, you seem perfect for each other.” You hugged her back hard: “Sorry, I caused such a mess for you.” “Don’t worry about it, Tav, I was always sure that this thieving was hopefully only a temporary business. I mean I am a bit scared because I don’t know what to do yet, but I’m happy to make a clean cut now”, Lira replied, Daegin nodded in agreement.

“Whatever happens, you and your pale boyfriend must come and hang out with us again though. He’s funny and good to drink with”, the dwarf grinned at you. “Oh, and what about my company?”, you answered quickly and raising your eyebrows at him. “I can bare with that, as long as Astarion’s coming”, Daegin answered with playful banter and motioned with his head towards where Astarion was only just returning.

“Did I hear my name? Fret not, I have returned, my friends!” He put a big bottle of liquor on the table, pushed a mug of water towards you with a teasing look of worry in his eyes – you flipped him off. And then Astarion artfully threw four shotglasses from around his back one by one and set them down in front of everyone around the table. Lira cheered and clapped at his display of sleight of hand. Astarion bowed gracefully then went to uncork the bottle of spirit.

“How did you get the whole bottle? Far as I knew they save these for special occasions and special customers only. Whose pants did you charm off for this? Did you strip naked for the bar maid, or something?”, Daegin asked him suspiciously and eyed Astarion up and down. His clothes looked just as well in place as they were a few minutes ago, though.

“Not this time”, Astarion replied while filling everyone’s glasses. “I just asked about the bottle in the back and well, the rest I call the ‘handsome face and nice smile tax’. I even got it for free”, he explained with a smug grin. “You flirted with the bar maid to get us liquor? You are unbelievable, Astarion”, you exclaimed and pressed two fingers to the root of your nose, closing your eyes and sighing deeply. Could this man really be left to roam this city freely?

“Surely never happened to me, don’t have the face for that”, Daegin mumbled and grabbed his shot. “Well, love, flirted is a strong word. As far as I’m concerned, it was only about getting something to drink – at least for me – and it wasn’t even that goo…” You boxed him into his shoulder with full force when you realized he was mimicking your earlier words about Eodin. This fucking dickhead! But Astarion simply threw his head back in laughter. You punched him again, but he kept laughing and grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you, immediately erasing the anger you felt. Then he broke the kiss and looked at you with an intensity in his eyes, that made you breathless, his eyes jumping back and forth between yours. “I love you”, he whispered to you. “Hear, hear”, Daegin dramatically proclaimed to that and made to throw back his drink. “Ah ah ah”, Astarion interrupted him “I appreciate that, but I thought we wanted to toast to something else?” “Yes, yes, you’re right.” Daegin lifted his glass: “Let’s drink to snakes and assholes we got rid off!” Then he looked to Lira to add to the toast. “And to old friends that reappeared and new ones that were made!”, she added cheerfully and lifted her drink to Daegin’s. “To leaving the way of thieves behind and finding new paths in life”, you happily joined in and looked to Astarion to finish the toast. “And to the wonderful people we’ll walk them with”, he said smiling at you in a way that made you forget you weren’t alone in the room. You went to down the drink but saw the glint in Astarion’s eyes. “And to charming the pants off people to get whatever we desire”, Astarion added smugly and threw his drink back. Lira and Daegin both choked, but you simply drank, pressed your forehead against Astarion’s and broke into joyful laughter. The vampire just kept looking at you, his heart full to the rim with love for you.

[athanza]

"Snowfall" - Part I

Fem!reader (from a non-canon, lesser known house) + Aemond Targaryen (romantic) + Rhaenyra Targaryen (platonic) + Damon Targaryen (platonic) + Helaena Targaryen (platonic)

Tags: Family drama, royal politics, romance, platonic fluff, angst, lots of tention (good and bad), protective Aemond, protective Rhaenyra, found family

Warnings: An attempted SA in part III, mentions of parent death during childbirth, parental abuse, canon violence, Aegon being a creep, a little bit of light smut later down the line but nothing too nsfw.

Summary: Elisana's father brings her with him to King's Landing when he's summoned by the Queen to discuss a rebellion in his territories. Her and Prince Aemond begin to fall for each other but family secrets begin to surface and it creates a tense situation between her house and house Targaryen.

I'm not super knowledgeable about the lore etc so bare with me on this one. Written in 3rd person. Enjoy! ♡

Part II | Part III | Part IV

When your father, Eris Denaron, told you that you were to accompany him to King's Landing you were excited at first, until you remembered what the princes were like when you were little; obnoxious and sometimes unbearable to be be around. You hoped they had matured since you saw them last, but one thing can be said about boys is that they take far too long to grow up.

"I need you to be on your best behaviour while we're in their company, Elisa." Said her father. "These are sensitive talks, and the last thing we need is another incident like the last time you were there."

"That was 9 years ago, father. I choose my battles far more carefully now than you give me credit for."

"That doesn't mean your temper has calmed." He sighed. "You are too much like your mother."

"I won't cause any trouble, you have my word."

His stern face gave away very little, but you could tell your words gave him some reassurance.

"I must make my way to the council chambers. Pay a visit to your cousins, make small talk. With any luck, by the end of this, I will have organised a betrothal."

He left swiftly, his navy velvet cloak trailing behind him.

She walked to the window and took a deep breath as she stared out over King's Landing, her long white-blonde locks dancing gently in the warm breeze. She considered wondering the castle she hadn't seen in nearly a decade, but then her eye fell on the training yard, and they gleamed with intrigue.

A small crowd had gathered around the centre of the yard, and two men fought swiftly with each other. One of the men she recognised as Ser Criston, head of the King's guard, and the other had long silver locks but she was unsure if it was Aegon or Aemond as she hadn't seen either since they were children.

The fighting lasted a while and Elisa weaved her way through the crowd until she came to the front. When she saw the eyepatch she immediately recognised the silver haired man as Prince Aemond. She was surprised, he seemed different from when they were children, he used to be far more quiet, shy almost, but now he fought with such confidence and grace he almost seemed like a different person.

He had grown quite handsome since last they met, tall too. A far cry from the little prince she remembered.

With only one more swift motion Aemond had Ser Criston defeated, sword to his throat as he stood tall and proud, barely out of breath. The crowd applauded and muttered amongst themselves as they began to slowly disperse.

He had spotted Elisa from across the yard and walked over.

"Lady Denaron." He acknowledged.

"Prince Aemond." She curtsied. "Are you up for another challenger?"

His eyes narrowed slightly in intrigue and he smirked as he gestured for ser Criston to give her his sword.

"I never refuse a challenge."

Ser Criston hesitated but obliged and handed you his broadsword, stepping back to give you enough room to fight.

She had learned the skill of the sword against her father's wishes but with her 3 elder brothers, she was damned if she had to sit out and instead learn some nonsense such as embroidery. She needed to fight and had become quite good at it. She was confident.

She held fast, she saw the prince's agility in his fight with ser Criston and knew he would be quick, and just as that thought entered her mind, he swung his blade.

She parried, gauging the force of the blow to figure out his strength. He was holding back, and that insulted her.

She returned with four forceful strikes, one high, two mid and one hard hit from the side, Aemond dodging or parrying every single one.

They circled each other for a moment and she touched her blade to his, staring him down.

"If you hold back any longer I'll cut off your hands."

"I would gain much enjoyment in seeing you try."

In a swift, fluid motion she flicked her sword and caught his jacket, leaving a long cut horizontally across the sleeve and she saw his eye flicker with flame.

Some of the crowd had returned and gathered around once again, watching intently as they had never seen the prince fight a woman skilled with the sword before.

He brought his sword down on her from above, then the side and she dodged, almost not fast enough for the second blow. He wasn't holding back anymore.

He came at her again and again and she jabbed, almost getting him but he still managed to block it.

This dance continued for only a few more minutes before Aemond sent her sword flying and placed his blade to her throat.

The crowd applauded once again.

He was trying to hide it but he was out of breath a little and she smiled knowingly, briefly glancing down at his blade.

"You've grown quite skilled."

"As have you." He replied.

His eye lingered on her for an extra moment before lowering his sword. She had grown quite beautiful since last they met and he couldn't help but notice, but he turned away and sheathed his blade as the last of the crowd left.

"I will see you tomorrow for more training." Said Ser Criston, taking his sword back from Elisa as she held it out for him, nodding politely to her.

"I believe you mean another defeat." Aemond retorted with a smirk.

Sir Criston scoffed as he sheathed his blade and walked away, leaving Elisa and the prince alone in the training yard.

"Where did you learn the blade?" He asked, reaching for a chalice from a servant boy who arrived with a small decanter filled with wine.

"My teacher is head of our guard, much like yours. He's taught me since I was nine."

"You were lucky to find a teacher willing to instruct a woman."

"Maybe so." She replied, then smiled. "I kept you on your toes though."

He looked at you sideways as he sipped his wine, and you saw the corner of his mouth curl.

"Maybe so." He replied.

"Elisana!" Came her father's voice from the top of the stairs.

Aemond noticed her smile twist into contempt as Lord Eris walked down and stopped in front of his daughter.

"I told you to behave yourself and the first thing you do is pick up a sword?"

"I wasn't aware having fun counted as misbehaving."

"I apologise for my daughter Prince Aemond, she has an untamable fire, not unlike her mother's." There was a condescending tone in his words that made her want to take the prince's sword and show him what a true opponent really was but restrained herself.

"There is no apology necessary Lord Denaron, I always welcome new apponants."

"I appreciate your understanding my Prince but there are better opponents than a woman."

Those words began to grow the same contempt from Elisana within Aemond and he took another sip of wine.

"Come Elisana."

She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from arguing with her father in front of the prince and curtsied politely. Aemond bowed his head in return before she was ushered away.

When they were out of sight and earshot of the the prince, her father turned and struck her across the face.

"How many times must I remind you of your place!" He hissed. "If I see a sword in your hand again I will use it on you, do you understand!"

She looked up at her father with a hatred that could not be measured as she held a hand to her face. "You have my word." She growled and her father stormed down the hallway, leaving her to hold back tears and try to gather herself before anyone could see her.

That night at dinner she was seated next to Helaena who was a pleasant change of company from her husband Aegon who was drunkenly speaking obscenities on her opposite side.

"Are you really a Denaron Lady Elisana?" He asked. "You don't have the colourings of one."

Aemond noticed her tense at the question as he had been watching her.

"My mother was blonde." She replied. "I take after her."

"Is that so?" Aegon swirled the wine in his cup as he looked her over. "Anyone would think you were a Targaryen with that hair."

"I wouldn't be so bold as to say so your highness."

"I like it!" Beamed Helaena. "It makes us look like sisters."

Elisa smiled at her, she had always gotten along with Helaena and had occasionally sent letters by raven since they were children. She was the only one who she had kept in contact with in the nine years since she was last in King's Landing.

"That is true." Said Alicent with a soft smile.

"Is it also true that you were caught fighting my brother in the training yard?" Helaena excitedly asked, a little tipsy from the wine she had been drinking.

"I had him on his toes the whole time." She whispered cheekily in reply.

Helaena giggled and Elisa smiled, she had always loved Helaena's strangeness. She was one of the few friends she had and she loved her dearly.

She didn't see Aemond's fond gaze from across the table as she laughed with his sister. He rarely saw her laughing like that, she was mostly quiet and a little withdrawn, especially when she was around Aegon.

Alicent also noticed her daughter laughing and smiled at seeing her so happy.

"Tell me, Lady Elisana, is it true you managed to give Aemond a challenge this afternoon in the training yard?" Asked Jacerys, gleefully leaping at the chance to mock his uncle.

"Is that how your shirt got damaged?" Lucerys snickered.

Elisa pursed her lips to attempt to hide her smile, knowing her father was glaring at her from the other end of the table.

"Perhaps one day you may give even a fraction of a challenge." Aemond retorted, retaining his usual expression, but she could see him clench his jaw, his eyes fixed despisingly on the brothers.

"Aemond." Said Alicent, giving a warning look from her place beside Rhaenyra, who gave the same look to her sons.

Jace and Luke cut it out but still exchanged glances at each other with stifled laughs.

"It is refreshing to see a woman with such skill with a blade." Said Rhaenyra. "I would like to see you fight while you're here."

"Perhaps not." Said Lord Eris, attempting to remain civil in the company of the Queen. "I'm sure there are more productive things for a woman to do than fight."

The air in the room immediately changed and the distain for Eris' comment was felt my most of the people in the room. Rhaenyra's expression said all it needed to as she shot a spiteful glance in his direction.

"If a woman can birth a child she can wield a sword." She said. "A wound from a blade is nothing compared to the pain of labors."

Elisana glanced nervously at Rhaenyra and then her father. She could feel his anger begin to rise and although she revelled in Rhaenyra's comment she knew she would be the one to take the repercussions of it later.

"Then why bother with it?" He replied.

"Father, please." Elisana pleaded quietly.

Aemond saw her face during this interaction and saw her anger towards her father and also her fear.

"Would you rather a woman die than be able to protect herself and her children?" Rhaenyra continued, snapping at him once again.

Elisa sat forward, a hand on the table. "Princess, let us change the subject."

Rhaenyra turned her head to her and saw her fear of her father and became even more enraged but stayed her comments.

"I think that's enough talk of this for one night." Said Alicent, standing up and smoothing out her skirts. "I shall retire to my chambers and I suggest you do the same, tomorrow's talks will be of great length."

"Of course, my Queen." Said Lord Eris almost behind gritted teeth.

A look of laboured relief appeared on Elisa's face and once the Queen had left she stood up and curtsied. "Excuse me." She said before leaving.

That night, Elisa sat in her chambers, worried that her father would burst in and set another 'example' and she was therefore unable to fully rest. She hadn't even yet changed into her night gown.

Her father always hated her for being a girl. He got his three heirs and had no need for her other than to wed her off in exchange for powerful connections.

Anger swelled in her gut day by day as she lived with him and she kept it down as best she could but one day she knew she would not be able to hold back and may kill the man without a thought of hesitation.

As she sat beside the fire, swirling a strand of silver hair around her finger there was a knock at the door and every muscle in her tensed. Though she realised her father wouldn't bother to knock and she turned to the door before getting up.

She opened it to reveal Aemond wearing a long black cloak with the hood up to hide his hair.

"Would you like an adventure?" He asked quietly, giving her playful smirk, one she hadn't seen since they were children.

He held up another cloak and Elisa smiled and put it on, looking both ways down the hall before they snuck out of the castle.

This is turning out to be way longer than I intended 😅😅 I hope you enjoyed part 1! Please like, comment and reblog! ♡

[whysodelirious08]

Loop - [E.M] - [Any Reader]

A/N: don't ask me how many words but please read it! There's a twist. Also, I started writing this at 7:25 am.

Pairing: Eddie x best friend reader. [No gender. Not that I remember putting-]

Tags: Friends, unsaid feelings, very very slight romance, stormy weather, cosy vibes.

Warnings: slight kissing. That's it.

________

Your eyes rested upon Eddie's hunched frame, his figure barely aglow in the dim lighting that sat in front of him. He was hoarding almost all the light in the basement of your house while the two of you waited out the storm. You weren't unused to seeing this familiar position, Eddie often sat at your desk. He had shoved your neatly stacked and organised homework to the side, not to complete his own. No. But to sit there meticulously painting a new figure for his D&D campaign. He'd steal a glance toward you now and then when you'd finally shift in your beanbag seat, a hardcover copy of IT in your hands but you had stopped reading a while ago, you found its contents a little sickening, especially upon reading Beverly's storyline. You felt so bad for her and you knew from this book alone that King's work was twisted and sickening. Eddie had gifted you the book for your birthday, he knew enough of what you liked when it came to reading and this book had just been released too.

Still, you needed the break from the book. Needed something...lighter. Eddie seemed to be working for you at that moment, your eyes focusing in the darkness, you could admire Eddie from a distance and never grow tired. His frizzy mane-like hair was messier than usual, implying he had woken up late before getting to your house. His eyes, big yet soft were focused intently on his paint strokes, tongue poking out which only confirmed his attention was none on you. You had noticed how his rings would clink against the paint-water-filled glass, barely caring if he knocked it though he'd look over to see if you had noticed, not wanting a telling off. His boots were kicked off under the table, and his jacket slung over the back of the old dusty pink couch. Aka Eddie's second bed. You had known Eddie your entire life, well, it seemed that way. Since you were small kids, from when you gained consciousness. You and Eddie against the world. But...he'd been hanging out with some new people lately, he'd met them at a concert and they'd travel into town to hang out more frequently than you'd like. Though you wouldn't ever admit it. You were conflicted in that regard; you wanted Eddie to be happy but you wanted him to be happy entirely in your company alone. You hated thinking such a way but Eddie was so charming he could practically make friends with anyone if he wanted, in some ways you were jealous of that. You, for the most part, only had Eddie. The fear of him being taken away made sure you kept him close. His words upon arrival suddenly rung in your mind.

"Should I just move in? Seems like you're wanting all of my attention, huh?" You remembered that grin plastered on his face as he chucked his set of keys down and opened your mini fridge.

Though your string of thoughts leading back to this afternoon didn't last long as present time Eddie's voice called out.

"Hey there, dreamer. Come look. I've finished it. I think it's going to be great for my next campaign" his voice was enthusiastic as he urged you over. You finally obliged but groaned as your aching muscles moved from their set position. You made your way over, stopping for mere moments as a loud clash of thunder rang out above, catching the attention of both of you and Eddie. A frown sunk into your features but a hand pulled you over to the desk. Eddie explained, in great detail, his painted figurine, though you couldn't help but notice it looked like you. Your usual go-to clothes and backpack. You said nothing about it. You knew how long this had taken him, from carving the character out from wood to the sanding and the drawing and finally the painting.

As you stood beside him you could smell the cigarette smoke and cologne mixture, you'd always complain about how you hated it yet it was a comfort to you. His words broke you from your trance-like state.

"So, apparently you made friends with that Johnathan? Do you think it could work out? See any potential?" He teased as he stood, finally, getting something to drink.

"Jonathan? Potential? What do you mean? I could ask you the same thing with that rock chick you've been hanging out with" You countered, though some jealousy slipped out without intending to.

"Well, I've never seen you interested in anyone. Not even when it comes to friends. And for the record, she's a friend. That's all." His words made you violently roll your eyes and walk to the couch where you plopped down with a huff.

"Okay and "for the record"-" You mocked as you closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the cushion.

"I am interested in someone. Not that I'd tell you. You'd only tease. And I have enough friends." You stated before Eddie's scent suddenly and strongly filled your nose.

"Mhm. Okay. Tell me, who is the mystery person?"

"Not gunna happen."

"Why?"

"You don't need to know."

"Yes, I do."

"No. You don't."

"Do."

"Don't."

"Do!"

"Don't!"

"I do."

"You don't."

"Is it me?"

"What?"

You knew by the way he had asked if it was him that he was completely joking but it had caught you so off guard. There was a longer pause than you had liked. The tense silence seemed to have risen faster than the drinks dispenser at Ahoys. God, you had to be quick or Steve would make you clean the mess up.

"So, it is me...?"

"No. Of course not. Why would you think it was you?"

"Well...with the way you reacted to my question I just-"

"It's not you! You just caught me off, guard. Jesus, don't you have literally anything else to do?" The words came out harsher than you had meant. You noticed how he didn't say anything back, just a shared silence that grew thicker. You finally let out a breath that had been stuck for longer than you'd like.

"Sorry...I'm...not good with admitting to things or questions or..."

"I know. I know you. I was just teasing...I didn't mean to antagonise" his voice softer than usual.

The silence remained but it became soft, more so when Eddie joined you on the couch.

"Is it me?" His voice was softer this time. Hopeful even. Your eyes drifted over to his lap where his hands rested, toying with his rings.

"And if it was? If. Eddie. If." You ask back, glancing over for not more than a second before your eyes tried to find something else to look at in the dark-ish room.

"Then...I'd probably kiss you. And hold you. And..." he trailed off, tiptoeing just as you were.

"And...?" You urged as your hands became a little sweaty, your breathing quicker through you tried your damn hardest to hide it.

"And I'd admit the same. Feelings I mean. But I- uh don't really expect it to be me" he half chuckled out, leaving you in surprise.

"Why...wouldn't it be you?" You frowned softly and turned toward him. Worriedly scanning his features.

"Because I'm the freak-"

"You are not. Don't you dare say that. You used it at school and you can use it with your band but don't you dare. For one minute. Actually believe it." You scolded now.

And for a moment your eyes locked, even if Eddie had only been joking, you were suddenly willing to take that chance, leaning in until your lips barely touched, grazing as you felt his hitched breath release slightly before pressing your lips to his, your hands cupping his cheeks. You felt his hands slip from your arms to your waist, pulling you in even as you tried to pull away for a moment. A soft frown started to contort your face as your felt tears prickle in your eyes, the autopilot of all this slowly fading and realisation kicking in.

You didn't want this. You felt the pull kick in, you didn't want this moment to end. You never did. You always only became aware of the truth the moment you kissed him.

As you opened your eyes your focus settled on Eddie's hunched frame, carefully painting his figurine.

[bullet-prooflove]

UC!Series Part One: Right Here - Jubal Valentine x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @darqchilddaydreamz @trublu2u @greenies-green @proceduralpassion @burningpeachpuppy @evee87 @delightfulheroshoeflap @iworldlywriter @helsinkibaby  @penguin876 @justamadgirlinabox @a-noni-love @brownskinbaby22

You disappear for three months.

Jubal calls it ‘disappearing’ because despite the fact you’d discussed undertaking the operation with him, during this time period he has no idea where you are.

A few days before the assignment had come down, a C.I of yours had reached out with information regarding a domestic terrorism event that was being planned in Manhattan. The decision had been made by your superiors in the Counter Terrorism Unit to activate your old alias from when you’d been affiliated with the organisation to learn the details of the attack.

Jubal had known that something was up from the get-go. It was in the way that Isobel edged around him during the investigation he was working, the fact that his phone had been ominously silent all day when the two of you were usually trading texts back and forth. When he looks back, he realises that you were overwhelmed with prep work, your head buried in the files you needed to secure your position amongst your targets. The turn around had been twenty-four hours, barely anytime at all to get yourself acquainted.

You’re waiting for him when he gets home. He sees you sitting at the kitchen table, hand wrapped around a steaming mug of herbal tea, and he know his world is about to be blown to hell.

“I have to do this.” You tell him when he takes the seat across from you. “If something happened and I had the chance to stop it…”

You don’t need to say anymore than that. He gets it, he’s the only one that does. Noone else can understand what it’s like to be faced with a choice like this, to have to make a decision that’s going to upend your entire life.

“I don’t expect you to wait.” You tell him quietly, your gaze meeting his. “I don’t know how long this will take, it could be weeks, it could be months.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that ok?” He says softly, reaching out across the table and taking your hand. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here as long as it takes.”

He sees the emotion in your eyes, the agony of this choice, the weight of it. It’s a lonely road, the one that you’re walking, he’s been there before. He knows that sometimes it’s easier to cut yourself off from the life you’re leading so that you can become someone else. It’s isolating taking on a role like this. He wants you to remember that you have something to come back home to, something that you think about on the nights when things feel a little claustrophobic.

“C’mere.” He says, tapping his palm upon his thigh.

You comply with the request, settling in his lap as he wraps his arms around you and cradles you close. He feels the tension begin to slip from your body as he cuddles you close, his lips brushing over your hairline.

“I’m always going to be here for you.” He whispers to you. “No matter what happens I’ll be right here.”

Love Jubal? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[virgo-dream]

9 and/or 17 for the ask game!

Hi Seiya!!! 💖 I’m not going to answer 9 in this post because I honestly have memory issues and I don’t currently remember something I wrote that I’m particularly proud of right now :(

17. Are there any writers and/or stories that you consider an influence?

Uuuuuuuh I think I’ve said this to them a billion times but I’m definitely tagging them here too!

@avelera is fully the reason why I’m on tumblr for Dreamling and even writing fic! I love the way she develops her plots, the impeccable grasp she has on the minds of the characters, and just how well she does writing stories in different genres. Also, Maggie has the ability to not coddle the characters and show their ugly sides too, which is something I admire a lot.

@softest-punk has to hear me scream whenever they post anything because soft has the gentlest, kindest and most hopeful writing I’ve ever seen. Everything is imbued with an inner light and just fiercely loving. Soft, like Maggie, also has incredible grasp of the technical part of writing (which is the reason why I’ve bothered both of them for writing advice).

@landwriter is an absolute master of themes and language. Just unhinged levels of drenching a story in symbolism even in the smallest little details. Also, the way Gloam does research is insane. I wish I had the same level of brain power to do research for work that Gloam does for fics.

@moorishflower’s writing is wild, vivid, unapologetic, experimental… moorish is just out here writing about themes and in ways that I’ve never allowed myself to even consider trying. Another master of language, like Gloam, and constantly pushing the boundaries.

@chiron-crow just goes there with his fics. He’s exploring pain, darkness, honesty and healing in an incredibly raw way that I think even scares him sometimes. I love how Chi organises his writing, how methodical he is in his process and how deeply he cares for the themes he chooses to tackle (Also his poetry fucking slaps ok?)

@valeriianz’s Bolt In The Blue has such a strong grip on my heart that I actually wrote fic for Kris’ fic lol. It’s a true slow burn, which I enjoy reading but am terrible at executing in my own writing. I love how Kris is able to take something that is not a common experience (being a touring musician) and stripping it down to the bare bones of it, the points of connection where everyone can identify with the characters.

@beatnikfreakiswriting’s “would you let me know” is one of the most delightful fics I’ve had the pleasure of stumbling upon. The exploration of Dream and Hob’s relationship, how Dream slowly opens up, all while dealing with the academic environment as a backdrop. I’ve steered away from academic AUs because I have deep academic trauma, so this fic made me feel seen and I was happy to have given it a chance. I just remember being happy reading it.

MonstruousRegiment is not on tumblr as far as I’m aware, but both The Uses of Adversity and The Stars Move Still are in my kindle fic bible for continuous reading because damn, those fics are good. There are so many original characters that just feel native to the universe they’re exploring. Their take on the “Hob saves Dream from the fishbowl” trope is one of my favourites to date. In the second instalment of the series, they manage to do yet another incredible canon divergence take. I’d read a thousand of those, just exploring how things could be different at different points of the story.

[lemonhemlock]

Do you have any favorite Aemond fan fics that you would recommend? I don't mind if him with an OC or anyone else from the show/book (Helaena, Alys, Aegon, etc.).

I have a few I could suggest! Some of them are a little out there, so beware the trigger warnings, though.

I really love how baqlawa writes, such evocative language, such a beautiful turn of phrase. "love lives in the throat" has slight helaemond and alimond, but nothing too outrageous. They have written on other green pairings as well, if you're interested.

Similarly, there are a lot of fics from thefudge that I like. She has a helaemond one, "killshot, baby", among others, including some rarepairs.

Some other helaemond ones I've read and liked: "a handful of small fires" and "thyme" by charmtion, "it's so nice to be insane", "no one cares after the lights go out", "rinse me out", "one wicked road" (anonymous writers). kinderhook has a ton of cool helaemond fics (check her out, she has too many to list) - "those who will wait" has become a classic of the genre, I believe, it's very psychologically fucky. catalystcomet is the high priestess of helaemond, so if you like this pairing, she is mandatory reading. :)) Some of these pieces are a little unorthodox - not sure what you're into, exactly!

Somehow I really happen to like Modern AU aegond and 1818 on ao3 has a lot of them, but they tend to veer into dead dove territory, so be careful. In the same vein, there's "stay the hand that feeds" by englishsummerrain. fleshfeel and 10tacles also write really intense aegond fics.

There's this age!swamp aegond that only has two chapters right now, but seems really promising - "The Unworthy".

One of the first fics I liked in the fandom that wrote a believable aegond, was sympathetic to Aegon and didn't demonize Alicent (quite a tall order last autumn) was "Dragons and Secrets" by CaptnPiers. It's still currently at two chapters. aegond/helaegon/helaemond.

Anonymous asked: do you know any good fanfics with helagon side pairing? or a multiship fic that actually stays close to their character? struggling to filter through stories that either barely mention them or the characterization is way off

I know some good helaegon one-shots, mostly. I think that as a side-pairing, they're not really explored in a way I find satisfying, as a result of the author not being very invested in them. As helaegon-centric, these tend to be rather explicit, so skip if it's not what you were asking for: "the good wife" by catalystcomet, "dream the crow black dream" by mussings_over_tea, "White Fawn" by lullaeby. baqlawa also has a series, "the helaegon tapes".

There is a multi-chapter helaegond one I remember with some politicking in it - "Shields Tossed Aside" by lullaeby.

Also, I haven't forgotten some of my mutuals are writing their own fics I would like to check out; I've just been a little overwhelmed with academic work lately and haven't been able to organise myself. 😩 You can probably find them in my hotd fic tag.

[hebuiltfive]

I know this is probably often debated and talked about, but trying to work out possible ages for the characters in Thunderbirds Are Go (2015; I haven't dared try for the 60s but, even though I'm sure more is out there for it, it's no less confusing) is an impossibility? Bear with me whilst I go off on a tangent here. This is kind of long.

We know Alan is 18 by the end of the series, but how many years is the series set across? One? Is it 2060 throughout all the episodes? Or does the show end a year, two years, or even three later? They only ever mention Jeff being gone 8 years, so does that mean it's only set in 2060?

Assuming Alan is 18 in 2060, Gordon would tops be 3 years his prior? I can't imagine he'd be any older, because a) he's closest in age to Alan (or so we assume), and b) he has two other brothers who have to fit in before Scott (who apparently was born in 2035 but now I can't remember if I took that from the 60s version?)

From Gordon's assume 'relationship' with Penny, I would put her as no older than Scott, else that's icky? (In my current calculations she'd be 25 to Gordon's 20. Imo that's barely okay, but we move forward for now because:)

That would mean Penny would have been 17 at the time of Jeff's disappearance!! That's all well and good until you remember John say that Jeff had her looking into the Hood before Jeff disappeared. Jeff disappeared in 2052, which would mean she was working for Jeff had at 17? Maybe even 16, depending on how fast he trusted her to look into The Hood. Was it her first ever assignment for IR? But then we know from Legacy that Jeff taught Penny the WASP protocol when she first joined. How long did Jeff know Penny before he 'died'?

Following on from that, (I have so many bug bears, bear with me) where does Brains fit in? Is he closer to Jeff's age (unlikely for many reasons, mainly his character models in both TAG and TOS) or the boys? I picture him older than Scott, only due to his ability to help Jeff build up the organisation and his friendly relationship with Jeff. Maybe in his early 30s at the start of the show?

Last point (for now): Lucy's death. We know Alan barely remembered his dad, even though he disappeared when Al was 10, and we know from Home on the Range that Al can't relate to his brother's talking about playing with their mother, so for Alan to not remember anything about her, he'd have to have been no older than 6? That puts it at 2048? But Jeff disappeared in '52. He set up IR, built everything and had it all up and running (with a decent reputation) in 4 years? I know he's good, but is he that good?

Ugh, this is headache inducing. I thought if I wrote it down and gave myself some creative licence it would make more sense. It hasn't.

Side note: Grandma Tracy being in her 80s and still being a prominent figure in the organisation on occasion? Badass.

[thetruearchmagos]

The Fremont Reforms: The Commonwealth's Peacekeeping Army

Hey folks! This article is an offshoot of an offshoot of a bit I was hoping to get done yesterday, which might tell you something about how my writing's going these days. It goes over in brief some of the military reforms made by the United Commonwealth Army decades prior to the Chainbreaker War, hopefully setting some context for future posts on specific issues and the broader Chainbreaker War as a whole. It was written in a strange fugue of sorts, so... it's not exactly polished. Can't tell if its too detailed, or not detailed enough.

Tagging, if I may, @athenswrites @theprissythumbelina @lividdreamz @hessdalen-globe @thatndginger

The Way Things Are Done Here

As the United Commonwealth entered its fifth decade, its Army, not yet a decade old, found itself having fight the sorts of battles that it was entirely ill equipped to. Where it had once fought for the sovereignty of its new member states and the freedom of their people from foreign invasion in the Commonwealth's formative years, the Army now found itself pushed into conducting various peacekeeping crises and operations throughout the 50's A.S. These conflicts would see a fundamental shift in the way the Army fought and organised itself, and the need for change was brought to the forefront after the disastrous fate of one expedition conducted on Commonwealth soil, in the Battezid Empire.

These were wars not fought in open fields against and with massed ranks of musketry, but the tortuously demanding tasks of projecting power, control and political authority across vast stretches of underdeveloped countryside against disparate bands of raiders and separatists, in many cases sponsored out of the coffers of the Fuhrati Empire itself. Some issues, such as the need to support the needed forces across the Warp and 12 Worlds, were well enough known, but a host of new challenges faced the Commonwealth Army as it found itself thrust into this new style of conflict. One key tactical challenge facing every battalion and regiment deployed to these tasks was the tyranny of distance and the fog of war, which took on a new dimension against an enemy that simply was not an Army like itself. Foot patrols and columns on the march between settlements frequently grasped blindly where they went, and horse cavalry troops were conspicuous enough that the irregulars could simply hide and wait for them to pass. The infantry could only be sure of their own security within their immediate line of sight, and barely even at those distances when it seemed as if the population itself could hide their enemy. Instead of deploying into the field as full battalions, the strength of those formations was bolstered and sub-units created below the level of platoons to allow the battalion to disperse itself across as wide an area as possible. Those larger numbers were needed to sustain the high rate of constant patrols and staff the many outposts deemed necessary to protect civilian and government interests and project at least the image of Commonwealth or Commonwealth-aligned local authority. The employment of battalions in this manner may have succeeded in deterring small-scale banditry and raiding, but as the size, intentions and scope of irregular forces grew and shifted the Army failed to keep up. Soon, patrols of six soldiers or less became increasingly vulnerable to isolation by what were now larger groups of organised and armed irregulars, while the distances allowed between different companies and their own platoons made the concentration of those forces impossible. Combined with the dire state of communications between battalions or regiments and their constituent parts and the poor state of tactical intelligence for those formations, the stage was set for a catastrophe.

The Slaughter

That disaster would in September of 51 A.S., wintertime in southern Battezid, in a battle which would be remembered as the Siege of Pazotin. The 2nd Tomikawa Rifles, a unit which had been in-province long enough to get far too comfortable for its own good, faced down the greatest uprising yet seen. Rising in a great, coordinated tide across the countryside, scattered platoons found themselves facing three-to-one odds from a force which seemed to have appeared from thin air, and which just as readily disappeared back into it before striking again against another distant outpost. The battalion itself was entirely isolated from all but one of its four companies within Pazotin itself, in a siege which lasted most of a week before the rest of the regiment could march under constant harassment to relieve the defenders. More than half of the 2nd Tomikawa's strength was dead or wounded by the end of it, and no decisive damage was inflicted on the insurrectionists.

The defeat, and there was no question that it was anything but that, led to a public outcry and came close to crippling support for the Commonwealth’s policy of policing and peacekeeping at home and abroad. An inquiry initiated personally by the Chief of the General Staff, Field Marshal John Fremont, found a long series of endemic flaws throughout the command overseeing the province and theatre of operations. After damning the commanding general and Military District commander overseeing Battezid, the report recommended a bottom-up reform of the organisation, training, and doctrine of United Commonwealth Army forces deployed on such peacekeeping missions. The failures which had led to that fiasco had been in making for some time, and the depth of the Army's weaknesses in the region were put on display.

A New Old Army

The reforms outlined were thorough, and would take the better part of a decade to manifest. When and where they eventually did, the interests of the Commonwealth were much advanced by the now highly capable forces providing stability and peace to troubled and violent regions of the Commonwealth, its foreign allies, and its future members. The soldiers and officers who would grow into the Army under these reforms and be shaped by this kind of work would be the ones shaping the Army's culture for decades afterwards, and at the very least were slightly more open to the importance of necessary reforms in the future than their predecessors were.

It is, however, a great irony that the period in which the Commonwealth Army would achieve its greatest proficiency in the field of peacekeeping would coincide so closely with the creation of a completely different strategic picture. The Fuhrati Empire, whose belligerence and opposition to the UC's interests was well documented, and which had provided lavish assistance to the very irregular outfits the Commonwealth had fought to suppress, was growing rapidly in strength, and to the United Commonwealth's leaders it seemed as if war with the great slave empire could come at any moment as it entered the second half of the 60's A.S.

While the need for peacekeeping was ever-present, the Army would once again find itself facing down the barrel of another great challenge it had not yet equipped or designed itself for. And even though the service would have a head start in facing this new daunting task that it lacked when first thrown into its current one, the sheer weight of inertia meant that the Army that would find itself facing down the Fuhrati leviathan at the gates to Upepwani was caught somewhere in the middle, not quite a peacekeeping force thrust into a real war, yet hardly the modern, bayonet-sharp fighting force those few visionaries and theorists had hoped it would have become before the dogs of war were let loose. The lessons of this modern war, like the lessons of the previous breed of conflict, would have to be learned on the battlefield, and paid for in blood.

[ao3feed-ncishawaii]

ruminations

by lorelaislatte She’d gotten used to the gentle weight around her ring finger, to the feeling of matching jewellery on Kate’s hand resting against her bare skin. She keeps going to fiddle with it in their debrief meeting, in the traffic on the way home, each time remembering with a strange feeling that it was just for their covers. Tennant politely doesn’t comment on the way Lucy stares at it as she fills in the inventory check. It’s stupid, she knows it is. It’s one of tens, if not hundreds, of accessories the organisation has on-hand for undercover agents, having to be meticulously checked back in for any trace evidence. It was never real. Not really. Or: Lucy can't stop thinking about those wedding rings. Words: 1510, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: NCIS: Hawai'i Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F Characters: Lucy Tara, Kate Whistler, Jane Tennant Relationships: Lucy Tara/Kate Whistler Additional Tags: i love writing fic set after an episode i haven't watched yet, but all the kacy marriage talk has me swooning, Gentle Conversations, Post-Mission Debriefing, jane being the ultimate mom replacement, seriously if we don't get some knowing look or conversation between jane and lucy i'll riot, so i've written my own as a backup, bon appétit, Fluff, canon divergence maybe, Domesticity via https://ift.tt/N5qVldv

[maximotts]

I held off on using scrivener for a long time because of the price tag. But has a 30 day trial and when they say 30 days they mean 30. It’s not from the 1st to the 30th of the month it’s you using it thirty different days. I went through a writing slump and had the trial for like six months lmao. So that is definitely worth a try if you’re still not sure about committing. (PC & Mac - not sure about the others)

I like that you can cloud back up with drop box. If you also buy the ios/android app (less than pc but still a lot. $40 AUD for me) you can switch between them easily. I don’t personally write on my phone but I feel safer with a physical version and a cloud back up.

I find writing on scrivener much easier. Especially long form. The cork board feature is super useful and hard to find somewhere else. There’s a notes feature for each separate scene which is useful when you want to write an idea down without interrupting your flow. I found it hard to plan fics because it’d just be a big block of text (and maybe a diagram) that I’d scroll through which not only sucked up time but I wouldn’t use it a lot and then have to rewrite stuff when I saw an idea I love but forgot.

I also love the scene feature because it stops me from accidentally rereading what I’ve already written instead of writing lmao. I’m writing stuff so much faster because I don’t see a big chunk of text and go “well I should reread to remember where I’m at” like I didn’t write 12 hours ago.

I was also hesitant to buy it because “it’s just another program google docs works just as well” buuuut it’s not. I was just barely writing lol. I would give the trial a go because it really gives you a chance to get familiar with everything without forcing yourself to write a much in a month. If you don’t end up liking the program you can export what you’ve written in there on the last day pretty easily so no harm no foul. The program has an simple setting to consolidate everything.

I also use scrivener for study! I’m getting a diploma to become a library technician and find the organisation of scrivener so helpful for taking notes. It also makes printing them for exam season so much easier.

So yeah :) I think you should get it but take advantage of the trial first just in case. Sorry for so much text but I hope this helps!

Ooo no apologies needed, I really appreciate the detailed review! I didn't know the 30 day trial meant thirty days of active use but that's actually so amazing, I love that!! I find sometimes when I'm trying to like, force myself to learn too much new stuff at once I get too stressed to like, take a breather with the program and then I end up not liking it as much so that's a really good feature!!

And YES to the rereading what you've already written because I fall into that trap way too much and then I'm like "welp now I have to get up and do something else now!" and nothing new gets done!!

Anything that's good for notetaking is a must try in my book tbh, I've been toying with doing a second degree for a bit, but also I just love to take notes on anything and everything I read and research so 👀👀

[sam-glade]

Find the word tag

Tagged by the wonderful @elshells here and @talesfromaurea here. Thank you!

And gently passing the tag to: @dogmomwrites @eccaiia @sunset-a-story. Your words are: note, cure, thought, sun.

From Aurea: free, cup, meet, and sky. Can I find all of them in The Fulcrum...

Free (Ra'na's POV)

The town is nothing more than a larger version of the village. Young beetles roam the streets freely, they barely reach up to Avians’ knees. As before, the houses’ walls are made of amber-coloured elytra, slightly translucent, warm both in touch and appearance, etched in lighter patterns, records of the families and events that are notable by the peasants’ standards. In the centre though stand a few buildings of fired bricks, blue-tinged and porous. The hatchery is one of them, central here as everywhere else, then there’s a potter’s kiln, the watchtower, and the one stone residence for the lease-lord. Ra’na almost doesn’t notice it, tucked away among others.

Cup (...'s POV)

The Peacemakers and the Land Treader sit at the benches that cling to the outside walls of the guardhouse. They drink water from hollowed-out gourds and send … to refill them at the stream that tumbles down from the Fracture. She takes the three gourds and does as she’s told. The Land Treader’s flask is more elaborate, she notices idly. The stopper is better fitted, and the straps are made of well-cured leather. … fills the flasks and quenches her own thirst. She cups some water in her hands, then lets it flow between her fingers, soothing.

Meet (Ra'na's POV)

Avians around her begin to disperse. Her begrudging guide inquires if her hunger is sated, and once she confirms, they lead her to meet the Hakasha, as promised. She follows them up and up the ramps to the topmost level of the ziggurat.

Sky (also Ra'na's POV)

“We have thought of the celestial bodies to be eternal. Timeless. For hundreds of generations no changes to them have been observed, and many scholars have studied the night sky closely. Now three new moving stars appeared. It’s inexplicable, and some find it frightening.” She stops, remembering herself. She is no longer a pupil answering her teacher. She is a full-fledged envoy of the Scribes’ Guild. “Some say that they foretell the return of the Ancients,” she concludes.

From Ella: reflect, letter, escape, ceremony, haunt. I'll look in the last draft of Prodigal Children.

Reflect (Erya's POV)

However, for the next dance Gullin asked Prince Ianim, and this was different. This was unlike most of the dances Erya had watched that night and unlike the way Gullin had acted before. The tune was slow and wistful, and his body language reflected that. So did Prince Ianim’s. Erya still couldn’t tell what it was about dancing that bothered her so much. She had never tried it, but then she didn’t partake in organised hunts either, and that idea did not trouble her at all.

Letter (Erya's POV)

“Say, has anyone other than Darias mentioned marriage to you recently?” Anthea raised an eyebrow, demanding an explanation. “Oh, I was keeping an eye on him and came across the letter some time ago. It occurs to me that in uncertain times like these some may see it as a way of forging a powerful alliance as well as gaining popularity.” Anthea smirked. “I hope that my public image is enough to discourage such ideas.”

Yes, Anthea accepted that Erya will read every prince's correspondence.

Escape (Gullin's POV)

A shaky laugh escaped him. "You're insane." Lissan grinned. It was the grin that convinced Gullin that they were going to be all right.

Ceremony (Random guest's POV that may get cut)

Prince Kessimir had always considered weddings to be a treat for a Crystal. Even the arranged, political marriages involved some joyful celebration. There was always a child who didn’t look beyond the surface of the ceremony, or some old friends who were happy to be reunited, or even just a couple of guests who enjoyed the setting.

Haunt (Lissan's POV)

For a few heartbeats, he watched Gullin’s familiar features, only to notice how tense his jaw was and how set the frown on his forehead looked. This was concerning. Gullin looked up at him, without joy or relief. His eyes were dark. Haunted. This was bad.