#rough cut gems

[chasingrainbowsforever]

~ Green and Gold ~

[fazalkhan2914]

Zamurd stone price in Dubai-Takatgemssr If you are looking for gems in the United States or Dubai, Takat Gems is a business that deals with premium-grade gemstones. We have a variety of stones from all over the world. We are a top business in Dubai. Visit now. https://www.takatgemssr.com/zamurd-emerald.html

[xcaetus]

Deck - Craftsman Deck

An illustration of a sizable, ground-level, mixed-material arts and crafts deck with a roof extension

[lolli-popples]

bot...

bott smajor...

(Roscot???)

Anyway- the thought behind this was 'What if Gem and the Scotts didn't refer to Impulse being named Scott and instead there were just multiple copies of Scott?' And then it spiraled into a "Scott is a mass-produced assistant robot AU" that I needed to make something for.

((transcript of the text is under the cut))

Built-in LED mask synched with its speech and the surrounding mood. When service is required, the LED’s will change colour depending on urgency.

The control panel, cable ports, power-core access, and serial number are located centrally. 

Each arm comes with two extra attachments, so you can customize your unit based on what functions it will perform!

This space can be filled with a variety of machines, and is selected when ordering. Options include an oven, washing machine, or x-ray machine! (Changes to the primary appliance can   be done for an additional fee)

SMAJORs have great co and cross-compatibility! They can wirelessly connect to and share data with other units and external machinery. They are especially useful for monitoring security and medical equipment!

Need storage? No problem! The units have spacious storage compartments located in the thighs, hips, and upper arms. Your unit will never be without what it needs!

In addition to omni-directional wheels, the units also have convertible feet for walking up stairs or on rough terrain.

[foone]

So here's how the story goes. Four young adults are teleported away from 1940s earth, where it turns out they're the last descendants of the great sages who defeated evil all those years ago, but with his last breath banished the sages to earth. Now, 200 years later, evil has risen again: a vile sorcerer has raised an army and is threatening the peaceful kingdoms of a fantasy world, and only the Divine Bloodline can weild the Weapons of Light and defeat the rampaging hordes. The heroes take up their weapons and fight the good fight, leading the armies of man and elf and dwarf and beast against the evil orcs, who are vaporized by their touch. They cut a path through the horde and defeat evil's greatest champions, who were guarding the Gem of Control, an ancient artifact that gave the terrible wizard control over the orcish population. Just as one of them swings their hammer to shatter it, the wizard intervenes, and uses the last bit of his control to destroy his army, lest they join you in their freed state. As the pieces of the gem hit the floor, already losing their sickly green glow, they see the attacking orcs fade into mist. They'd killed hundreds in your crusade, sure, but he just killed all of them. They later learn, against all fervent hopes, that this extended to the orcish homelands. Men, women, and children, cooking in their homes, planting the crops, raising brutecows and hunting in the dark forests... All gone in an instant. The scouts report a silent land with tools lying in workshops, food left uneaten at dining tables, and bursting into tears at entering a house to find it was a schoolhouse: Quills lying in all the seats, with rough parchment next to it showing the first few letters of the orcish alphabet.

They redouble their efforts, now fueled with genuine hatred for the evil sorcerer. He shifts his tactics, relying on darker magics to summon undead minions, which don't need the Gem of Control. They don't go poof when a holy weapon touches them, but are still no match for the divine warriors. With a skeleton the size of a zeppelin smashing down towers around them, the warriors reach the wizard and drive a broadsword of light through his chest. The skeletons collapse back into their eternal slumber in little piles on the floor.

The warriors put aside their weapons as they're received with great cheer. They're invited to join the royal families of the four kingdoms, marrying into the human, elf, dwarf, and beast royalty. They spend the rest of their long reign ensuring peace returns, monuments are made for the fallen orc nation, and the remaining undead who fled are not allowed to prey on the peasants, only taking up arms again to fight a den of vampires left behind.

In their old age, the wizard who brought them here reappears. It's taken him decades to develop the right magics, but he can finally send them home. They abdicate, letting their hybrid offspring take control, certain in their ability to run a kingdom with wisdom and justice. They leave behind their holy weapons, in case evil rises again. The wizard warns them that much may have changed in the world they left, as 80 years has passed there while it was only 40 for them, but they still want to see if London still stands and if their families or their descendants are alive.

They appear in the modern day, 2024. They're amazed at the technological progress, of course, but then there's a bigger shock. This isn't just an isekai story: this is a reverse-isekai story.

The holy weapons were forged using the same magics that brought them to the fantasy world in the first place. When they vaporized orcs, they didn't die, they were teleported. Teleported here. Every mind-controlled orc warrior that tasted their blade woke up uninjured... in Portsmouth.

And when the sorcerer tried to wipe them all out as the Gem of Control shattered, all he did was transfer that magic to every one of them. None of them died, except for a few elderly orcs who dropped dead from shock at ending up in England, Earth, 1943.

It's now 2024. The Orc population of London is 3 million. There's twelve orcs in parliament, and another in the house of lords. The world has changed a lot since they left, for the better, the weirder, and the greener.

[geologyin-blog]

The “Tarugo,” an 85cm Brazilian tourmaline specimen weighing 66kgs and discovered in the Jonas mine. It’s most probably one of the largest single unrepaired gem crystal in the world and it’s amazing that it was never cut up for rough.

Photo: Architectural Minerals & Stone

[cupidsdolll]

pairings: boyfriend!harry x fem!reader [1.8k]

content warnings: cockwarming, small bit of fluff

“Don’t. Move.”

Harry’s voice is low enough to not be picked up by his computer microphone but loud enough for the girl before him to hear. She looks up at him from her spot on the floor, her knees aching from sitting in the same place for long periods of time. She’s unsure of just how long she’s been sitting on her knees, eyes watery and mouth full of his cock, but she thinks a good chunk of his meeting has gone by she’s been sitting down. He had told her before the meeting started that it was an important one and that she should be good and keep herself busy until he’s through. That was his only request, she needed to leave him alone.

She nodded then, sure of herself and her ability to stay away from him. She was wrong. It only took twenty minutes into the meeting that the heat started to bloom within her. It started off as a small little feeling in her chest and she frowned. She started to read to try to distract herself from it but then the book started to get a little steamy which only made the heat worse. The longer Harry stayed in that room on his call, the more antsy she became, the more the heat grew.

He’s been in there for at least an hour by now, talking and laughing on the other side of the door and Y/N can’t wait any longer. She walks quietly into his office and he shoots her a warning look, reminding her of what he said earlier. Be good. She shakes her head and sits on an empty chair near him. She’s hoping that the close proximity will calm the heat licking at the inside of the girl’s body. She just watches him, her eyes roaming over every part of him, his slender fingers free from his rings minus one. It’s a simple little ring that Y/N had bought for him when they were just friends, a plain gold ring with a couple of small gems in a circle that just somehow reminded her of him.

Time passed and the girl was bored and horny and just itching to tease him just a little. She scooted herself closer to Harry, just out of sight of his camera. If Harry saw, then he acted as if he didnt, completely ignoring her, nodding along to whatever the man on camera was saying. She lays one hand on his knee, a touch so innocent seeming and just lets it rest. She watches him out of the corner of her eye, her main gaze focused on the screen, watches as he flares his nostrils and exhales deeply. He cuts her a brief glance with a hard look, another warning. He’s normally a very patient man, hard to visibly upset. She knows that he enjoys her being the slightest disobedient on a regular day, but he doesn’t tolerate it as much when he’s in business mode. He doesn’t like being distracted and she’s his biggest and main one.

Slowly she begins to start trailing her hand upwards on his lap, the feel of the rough cotton against her palm rewarding her but doing very little to calm the fire burning inside her. One hand swats at hers, a lingering tingle on the back of her hand remains. She can hear his mouse click a couple times before he turns his head to look at her.

“What did I say, hm?” He asks and she just shrugs.

“You’ve been on this call forever. I miss you.” She says and he just chuckles, a dry sounding laugh that just says he doesn’t buy it.

“So you think you can just ignore what I told you? You can do whatever you want, hm?” He says and she watches a glint pass through his eyes, one that only happens whenever she’s being a brat and she clenches her legs as the fire burns stronger inside of her. She’s warm, a little warmer than she’d like to be in all honesty. She shrugs, all faux confidence and brattiness. She’s trying not to seem eager at all this attention she’s getting from him and trying to ignore the wetness pooling in her underwear.

It’s no use though and she knows this, he’s able to read her like the back of his hand. He knows she’s turned on and trying to seem big and confident, knows that she’s squeezing her legs as tight as she can. He simply smiles, a genuine one as he turns back to his computer. He’s able to pick right back where he left off, adding onto the conversation as if he wasn’t talking to her just a second ago. She watches in disbelief as he goes back to ignoring her, acting as if she was outside of the door instead of right next to him. She huffs in annoyance before her hand is resting back on his leg, sliding upwards faster before she reaches his covered dick that’s beginning to harden underneath her touch. He breathes through his nose as she smiles and starts rubbing him over his clothes. He clicks his mouse and turns to look at her, the look in his eyes is one that she loves to see.

“On your knees, in front of me. Hurry up.” He says and she just tilts her head at him, feigning innocence.

“Why? Aren’t you supposed to be focusing on your meeting? I’d hate to distract you.” She says and squeezes his dick once over his jeans. He closes his eyes and sighs, she’s really pushing his patience and the both of them know it.

“On. Your. Knees. Now. Don’t make me tell you again, pet.” He says as he turns back to his computer and unmutes himself, she stares at him a little longer and then decides to listen to him. She stands up and sinks to her knees, crawling so she’s in between his legs, looking up at him with a smirk. She thinks she’s in control, she’s gotten what she wants so there’s no way she’s losing anything right now.

She has him wrapped around her finger normally as does he, they’re both equally whipped for each other and there’s no denying it. She thinks she has him in the palm of her hand, has him right where she wants him, but it’s quite the opposite actually. Harry knew she could only stay away from him for so long. Knew that she could only take so much before she gets all antsy and needy for him, just like she is now. He offers a soft smile, full of love and warm, opposite of the fire burning in his emerald eyes. He’s full of lust and the thought of punishing her while he’s actively on a call makes the fire burn brighter, hotter.

She stares at him, one hand tracing random shapes into his pants as she waits for instruction. He hums, an agreeing noise.

“Go ahead and take me out then, baby.” He says after muting himself, not wanting to alert his other coworkers, it’s none of their business and he does have a professionalism to maintain after all. She smiles up at him with excitement in her eyes as she begins to trail her hands up his legs, over his knees and begins to pull his pants down slowly. He lifts himself off of his chair as subtly as he can, disguising it as getting himself more comfortable. After all, he has been sitting in that chair without a break for over an hour. She stares at his hard cock, standing straight up and a small bead of pre cum begins to dribble out. Her mouth waters instantly at the thought of sucking him off, it’s one of her favorite things. He smiles at her again, this time it’s more of a smirk if anything. He knows she’s eager for it, she always will be. He coos at her gently before nodding once, letting her know it’s okay to go ahead. She wastes no time, eagerly leaning forward and taking him into her mouth. He closes his eyes briefly before he opens them again and tries to pay attention to whatever’s being said from the other side of the screen. He does his best to ignore the feeling of her mouth on him as she bobs her head and sucks on him greedily, her tongue gently circling around him whenever she reaches closer to the tip. Before she’s able to get too into it, Harry has to remember that this is supposed to be a punishment. She’s not supposed to be enjoying herself so he calmly takes one of his hands and tangles his fingers into the back of her head gently tugging on her roots.

“Don’t move now, just keep me warm.” He says softly, doesn’t want to keep having to mute himself in order to protect their ears and just chooses to talk quietly in hopes that his mic won’t pick up his words. She whines and shakes her head slightly, showing her displeasure but he doesn’t care. She brought this on herself. He sits hot and heavy on her tongue, the taste of his pre-comeum is salty and intoxicating. She’s always loved the way he tastes, and can never get enough of it.

She hates when he has her do this, hates just being still even though her mouth waters heavily, desire swirls in her stomach and courses through her body. She huffs at him to show her annoyance, trying to show her attitude even with her mouth closed. He simply chuckles at the girl and her efforts, amused at her antics. He pays attention to the screen, his boss droning on about numbers and marketing techniques that could help business. He finds that she listens to him, aside from a couple of tongue swirls around his sensitive tip and a few swallows whenever too much spit pools in her mouth. He smiles to himself as the meeting continues.

He’s not sure how much time passes, these meetings always end up being several hours long simply because no one can agree on one thing. He checks the time on his computer to see that thirty minutes passed, and he feels content. She’s been good, being as still as she can with just a few teasing licks and sucks. He smiles as he mentally decides to reward her, ettling deeper into his chair and subtly thrusting himself into her mouth and she immediately moans, her eyes fluttering close and the vibrations flow through him and makes him curl his toes. He clears his throat in an attempt to hold back the throat making his way up his throat.

He’s being mean, he knows he is. He can’t help it though, as he thrusts softly into her mouth again and she eagerly hollows her cheeks as she sucks him in deeper. He quickly mutters something to his team, some pathetic excuse of needing to get something as he mutes himself and turns off the camera. He begins thrusting slowly into her mouth and a rumble comes from deep in his chest as he watches her.

“There you go, baby. You did so good, I think you deserve a reward.”

[anisangeldust]

Pretty when you cry 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: feelings are hard.

Pairing: young politician!Coriolanus x Fem!reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Coriolanus is stressed and needs you, emotional vulnerability, mentions of parental loss, crying.

A/N: just some heart-achy fluff bc I’m in the mood to coddle someone rn🎀

Masculinity and Bravado were drilled into the brain of Panems president since the day he was born, festering like an infection, multiplying like an invasion, until all he could feel was shame for feeling.

So often he’d find himself teary eyed, chanting soliloquies of “Men don’t cry, you aren’t weak, crying makes you weak.” like mantras around his apartment, such nonsense that those superior used to undermine his naturally empathetic soul.

It wasn’t until many moons later that he crossed your sacred path, your mere presence a soothing compress on his aching heart. Little by little, you cleared his night skies from its once insurmountable peril, the darkness that had consumed his soul was no longer seeping through his core, instead it soaked through his eyes, salty drops of crystalline water flowing down his milky cheeks.

At the moment, he was being comforted by his ever so generous and loving wife. The emotions he buried so desperately were now flowing like a river in front of his own personal Aphrodite, a tsunami of emotions flooding his soul, lapping at the weak spots of his delicate being. Never would anyone describe Coriolanus Snow as vulnerable, but right now he was. Your tenderness akin to the mother he lost so long ago, and his trembling frame that of a little boy. This is love in its rawest form, the ability to express vulnerability without judgement, the thing Coriolanus so clearly craved his whole adolescence.

Heaven was breaking down in your arms, having a rough day and coming home to you, the woman he loved with every ounce of his being, to have you hold his face and tell him it was all going to be okay; your murmured words like a warm compress on his aching heart.

So often he reminded himself that he was allowed to have bad days, being president was draining, and the cracks in his mask were deepening, he could no longer hide from the flood, he had to just make sure he didn’t drown. Luckily you were his life boat. Despite all his hard work, sometimes the darkness prevails, dawning cloaks of false serendipity, only to shed its light and consume your dignity. The darkness that clouds his vision, creeps into the corners of his mind, dampens his thinking, the darkness only you can cut through. He beam of light, his saving grace.

Coriolanus was a blubbering mess, your fingers running in his platinum curls a reminder that he was safe, that he was going to be okay. Slowly, he lifted his head from your chest and sniffled.

“I don’t deserve you..” he murmured, eyes red and puffy from crying so hard.

“Shhh, just lay on me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you” you cooed, pressing his face back into the soft fat of your chest. As to which he happily complied.

The muscles of his shirtless back were relaxed, melting into you and your warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around your middle and hugged you like you were going to disappear if he let go, you were his most precious gem, a beauty unmatched by the most divine beings, a goddess amongst men, and Coriolanus was your most devoted apostle.

Slowly, his breathing regained stability, his pink lips no longer quivering, chest no longer heaving. You peppered his teary cheeks with kisses as he calmed down slowly. His mind slipping form consciousness as he fell asleep.

“I love you” he croaked gently, voice rough and tone uneven, the most vulnerable state Coriolanus Snow could be in, the one reserved for you.

“I love you too baby boy, so much. Now sleep, it’ll all be okay” you mutter as he flutters his eyes closed and lays on you completely, your own personal weighted blanket.

Coriolanus was truly sculpted by the gods, how else would he be so pretty when he cries?

[originalartblog]

"Nawy what do you MEAN quick-ish 3D render it's got scratches and everything and I thought this was real for a minute!!"

Well, first, thank you very much that was the intention ❤, and second, you see, all speed is relative, and between finding my references, modeling, texturing and lighting, on top of having to learn how to make convincing gems, it still took me quite a few hours. I, however, cut corners everywhere for speed, and I wouldn't put this piece in a portfolio in its current state.

But! for the curious, I thought I could do a simple breakdown of how the witchcraft happens, without using too much specialized language to make it more accessible. In short,

In this case, I’m talking about a 3D model that was textured (colours and stuff) and then lit (lights on!) to make a pretty final picture. The objective is not to make a tutorial, but to put in simple terms what a 3D artist does to make something go from this, to that:

(people curious and/or trying to see if this interests them welcome)

I'm skipping the 3D modeling part altogether, since it isn't where most of the magic happens here. Just know that to be able to add colour and stuff on a 3D object, you have to go through the process or "unwrapping" it, which is like doing those foldable cubes in reverse

and then we can draw on it!!

Now, the good stuff:

Surfaces (metal, plastic, fabric, wood, skin, etc.) have different looks that make you able to differentiate them on sight. To make something look realistic, you have to try to replicate real life into the 3D world (duh.)

The software developers took care of the hard part (math and coding), so as artists we can play with the parameters available to make something pretty. What those parameters are depend on which "recipe" we're using. One of the most common "recipes" for realistic results is called PBR: Physically Based Rendering, named that way because it's trying to replicate real-life light physics. In this case, the 4 basic parameters are called albedo, roughness, metalness, and normal.

Albedo is the base colour of the surface (easy stuff). Roughness is to determine if a surface is rough or shiny. Metalness is to say if something is made out of metal or not. The normal is there to add all those tiny details you don't want to or can't sculpt on your 3D model (engravings, fabric bumps, etc.)

The roughness and metalness are black and white images because the information you're giving to the software is black = no and white = yes. It's easier to understand in the metalness image, where everything that is NOT a metal is black, and everything that IS a metal is white.

The normal is a bit more complex, but in short, it uses the colours green and red to know what is up/down or left/right, and will help the software fake relief on top of the model. You don't make it by hand; it's computer-generated from other stuff I'm not getting into.

With the technical stuff out of the way, we can actually use these. There are specialized softwares that will let you preview the results of each parameter in real time, so you can see what you're doing easily. This is what I have.

That software comes with some types of surfaces that are already set up, like the fabric in my piece, which was already 85% good for me straight out of the box. Then, it's up to me to use the tools available to decide how shiny a surface is, if there's dust or scratches and where, what colours things are, if there's metal parts, etc. That's where you can see a 3D artist's skills.

And finally, you bring it all together into a specialized software that can render 3D stuff and use those images on the corresponsing parameters, and then light the scene.

Because it all comes down to this: the light! For something realistic, light is vital to get right. You can pour your heart and soul into those tiny scratches, but if you don't light the scene correctly, well...

So we carefully light the scene to get some nice highlights to make the textures look good and highlight our subject (it's basically a photography studio inside a computer)

And then we add some camera effects...

and voilà! pretty picture!!

... and if you somehow did notice something different with the bolo tie from my last post, I did find out while taking all these screenshots that I messed up my initial renders in a way that made everything darker than it was supposed to be and that's why my gold looked so muddy...

I hope this was interesting and that you learned a thing or two!

[cordeliawhohung]

¡Hola! Disculpa si el mensaje es en español pero no sé como expresarme en inglés sin que parezca un curso de idiomas en nivel 1 🤡. Estoy aquí para decirte que, amo absolutamente tu AU!Mafia y ha sido de las joyas que he encontrado en este lugar. ✨ *escala las paredes y patalea en la cama*

¿Podrías darnos más de John Price x Reader? Algo como una escena de celos y posesión, pero esta vez por parte de Reader donde una mujer intenta coquetearle a su hombre y todo se pone MUY INTENSO *menea las cejas y se frota las manos*

Si no es mucho pedir, me encantaría algo de smut. Pleaseeee 🥹❤️🙏🏻

rough english translation: Hello! Sorry the message is in Spanish but I don't know how to express myself in English without it sounding like a level 1 language course 🤡. I'm here to tell you that, I absolutely love your AU!Mafia and it has been one of the gems I have found here. ✨ *climbs the walls and kicks on the bed* Could you give us more of John Price x Reader? Something like a scene of jealousy and possession, but this time by Reader where a woman tries to flirt with her man and everything gets VERY INTENSE *wiggles eyebrows and rubs hands* If it's not too much to ask, I'd love some smut. Pleaseeee ❤️🙏🏻

sorry this took so long to get out! i once again went overboard. also, never apologize for language barriers!!! and sorry this turned out to be mostly smut... i still hope you enjoy!

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: jealous wife!reader, fem!reader, alcohol and slight intoxication, porn with little plot, some more possessive sex, oral f!recieving, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, kitchen sex, i think that's about it? 2.8k word count because i'm a freak.

It started with dinner. High profile leaders from several crime syndicates, including your husband John Price, would periodically take turns hosting lavish meals for one another in the name of good business. People would invite their partners and members of the mafia family to these events to mingle and on occasion settle disputes. Of course your husband brought you along, as he would never pass up an opportunity to show you off. The two of you were dressed to the nines in a sharp suit and a beautiful silky dress. Delicious food and appetizers had your stomachs full in no time, and a bubbling heat fizzed along your skin from all the wine you had consumed that night. 

Everything went well until suddenly it didn’t. Some pretty thing in a short dress kept batting her eyelashes at John every chance she got. Which was fine. It was only natural for people to window shop. But then her fingers would graze his arm, and her laughter would ring too sweetly at any comment he made. Her voice was saccharine and she was young, much younger than you, and your blood boiled with every sickly sweet comment, laugh, and glance she threw your husband's way. 

The ride home was bitterly silent save for the dull rumble of the car's engine and whatever radio station John had droning through the speakers. A hazy drunkenness clouded your thoughts and an all consuming frustration and sour jealousy filled the area in your stomach that the alcohol couldn’t. Whatever conversation John attempted to start was quickly shut down by you with short answers or cutting silence, something that had him heavily sighing as he pulled into the driveway of your home. 

It wasn’t until the two of you made it through the entrance that John really attempted to figure out what was wrong. You stormed through the kitchen in search of something to drink when he wrapped a hand around your waist.  It took everything in you not to swat him away. 

“Everythin’ alright, Darling?” he asked.

You hated how he looked at you with such concern and adoration. There was just something so frustrating about the dark blue of his eyes and the warmth of his body against yours. Maybe you were just angry with his blatant ignorance of the situation.

“I’m fine,” you replied sharply. 

By some miracle you were able to slip out of John’s grasp, but it wasn’t long before his hands were on you again. Redirecting you like some wild dog, he moved you so that your lower back was pressed against the island counter and you tried your best to avoid his gaze despite the fact he stood right in front of you with his hands resting at your hips, trapping you. The scent of his cologne was almost more intoxicating than the wine in your system, and you felt your teeth dig into your cheek in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. 

“You’re not,” he countered with slight humor in his tone. “I’m not lettin’ you go to bed angry at me.” 

“Who said I was angry at you?” you retorted. 

“If you were angry about anythin’ else you’d be talking my ear off about it by now.” 

It shouldn’t have surprised you that he was able to read you that well. The two of you had been married for a few years, and known each other longer, after all. Still, he wasn’t able to read you well enough to figure out what had bothered you to begin with. So you tilted your head as you stared up at him, and though you crossed your arms in an attempt to get some space from him, he didn’t budge much from his position. 

“That girl at Shepherd’s dinner,” you said with a tight jaw. 

“What girl?” he asked. 

His question was so blatantly ignorant you nearly laughed. Instead, you rolled your eyes and let out a strong huff before turning your searing gaze back to him. “What girl… the one who was practically throwing herself at you! There’s no way you could tell me you didn’t notice her.” 

There was a slight pause after your explanation, and it made you realize that he truly didn’t know what you were talking about. All you received from him were tense eyebrows and twitching lips. It was difficult to tell if that made you feel better or worse about the situation, but you still weren’t exactly thrilled with your husband at that moment. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” you grumbled. 

“I’m sorry, love, I really didn’t notice,” he said. His thumbs began to gently caress your hips through the silky fabric of your dress, and you tried to ignore the tingling sensation he caused by shifting your crossed arms. 

“Seriously?” you retorted. “Oh, Mr. Price, you’re so funny! All while she’s trying to rip your arm off she’s hanging off of it so bad.” 

“I didn’t notice,” he said again, voice dropping low as he leaned closer. “Why would I notice her when I’m too busy looking at you?” 

Something pulled in you at that comment, and you swallowed down the dry aftertaste of wine that lingered in your mouth. John’s lips parted slightly as he leaned forward, and though the jealousy in you told you to tell him no, you stayed still as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Been lookin’ at you the whole night; couldn’t wait until we got home,” he mumbled into the crown of your head. His hands began to wander while he spoke, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and then your thighs. “You know you’re all mine, right? You’re all mine and I’m all yours. Do you need me to remind you?” 

As John spoke, you realized he slowly got lower and lower until his knees were on the kitchen floor. Kneeling in front of you, his hands rubbed at your ankles as they dived underneath the skirt of your dress. He began to bunch the fabric up as his hands slid along your legs, exposing your skin inch by inch. It was a miracle steam didn’t pour from your body due to how warm you felt, and you found yourself gripping the edge of the island counter as the lacy fabric of your panties became exposed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as you tried to keep the tension in your voice at bay. 

“Reminding you who I belong to.” 

A squeak nearly escaped your throat as John slipped his arm underneath one of your legs and tossed it over his shoulder. If it wasn’t for the counter at your lower back, you certainly would have fallen, but he held you firmly in place as his fingers pulled the fabric of your panties aside, exposing your heat to him. He groaned at the sight of you as he pushed the skirt of your dress further up, displaying the soft skin of your lower stomach. 

“John,” you breathed. Your grip on the counter became more firm as he planted a chaste kiss against your cunt. 

“That’s right,” he said, cooing against your slick skin, “only you get to say my name like that, darling.” 

He didn’t waste anymore time before his tongue began to lap at you, and he was so wet and molten hot against you, you weren’t sure how you still stood. Unforgiving, his mouth latched onto your clit and he held you in place while his tongue ravaged you, drawing breathless moans from your mouth. It was such strong and sudden stimulation that your legs began to tremble in his grasp, but John refused to let you fall. 

Just as the pressure on your clit seemed to be overwhelming, his tongue slipped closer to your center before diving into your heat. Groaning at the taste of you, he shallowly fucked you with his tongue for a few thrusts before sliding back to those fizzling nerves. Eventually your hips began to rock in time with the way his tongue moved against you and one of your hands tangled in his hair for better leverage. 

Despite the pressure and the friction, it still wasn’t enough. There was this terrible ache that left your cunt fluttering around nothing, begging to be filled. Biting into your bottom lip, you gently tugged on John’s hair in an attempt to get him to look up at you. 

“John I- fuck, I need more,” you said in a near whimper. 

His mouth moved off of your clit with a wet smack, and he stared up at you with heavy lidded and drunken eyes. A glistening sheen coated his lips and wetted the hair of his beard, and though his mouth wasn’t pleasuring you, his fingers took its place. At first he started with gentle little circles around your clit before grazing along your slit until he reached the depth of your heat. He slowly pressed two fingers into your pussy, but only reached the second knuckle before he paused. 

“Tell me what you want,” he urged while he curled his fingers inside of you. “Say it. Anything; I’ll give it to you.” 

His fingers moved with practiced accuracy as they rubbed against that cushiony spot that had your heel digging into his back. In a way, it felt a little cruel, as if he was trying to steal your words away from you on purpose. Instead, your grip on his hair only grew more firm as your hips began to squirm in his grasp. 

“Fuck me. Properly,” you said, your tone somewhere between an order and a plea. 

For the first time that night, a proper smirk formed on John’s lips. As he rose to his feet, he knocked your leg off of his shoulder and his fingers buried deeper into your cunt which had your hands pulling at his dress shirt. He continued to pump his fingers in you as his still moist lips brushed against yours.

“Here?” he asked. 

“I don’t care,” you whined, nails nearly tearing through his shirt. 

The sudden absence of his fingers left your mind reeling, but you were finally able to catch your breath after such a long period of pleasurable torture. His hands gripped your hips and quickly spun you around so that you were faced away from him. Bracing your hands against the counter, you yelped slightly as John pushed you forward, forcing you to bend at the waist until your chest pressed against the cool granite. 

“John!” you exclaimed as he began to hike the skirt of your dress up once more. 

“You told me to fuck you properly,” he said as he yanked your panties down. They fell over the curve of your ass and the swell of your thighs until they laid in a wet mess at your ankles. “I don’t plan to disappoint, love.” 

Remaining bent over the counter, you listened to the familiar metallic clink of John’s belt coming undone, quickly followed by the unzipping of his pants. It wasn’t long before the head of his cock tapped against your ass which sent your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“I’m all yours, darling. Only yours. Tell me you understand,” he said, voice low and deep in his throat. 

Just as you opened your mouth to answer him, you felt him prod at your entrance, greedily rubbing along your slit in an attempt to drench himself in your arousal. Swallowing, you shifted on your feet slightly. 

“You’re mine,” you spoke, body tensing from anticipation. 

“That’s fuckin’ right.” 

Without further warning, John slid into you, filling you to the very brim with a single thrust. Your hands clenched into fists, and with no bed sheets to grab, you hit the counter in front of you as your forehead came into contact with the cool surface. He gave you very little time to adjust before he pumped in and out of you, hips slapping against your ass with obscene sounds. Your strained moans only added to the symphony; beautiful legato mewls as you attempted to grab onto anything that you could while John punctuated each thrust with sharp, staccato grunts. 

Already sensitive from his tongue and his fingers, taking his cock so full and suddenly nearly sent you over the edge. A blistering heat prickled across your body, causing sweat to bead along your skin as if the universe attempted to adorn you with rhinestones. John’s hands turned into fists as he gripped the skirt of your dress, keeping it out of his way and using it as leverage to pound into you with little remorse. 

“Jealous thing, aren’t you?” he said through a strained grunt. “Thinkin’ I’ve got eyes for anyone other than you? No, quite the opposite, isn’t it? Why would I ever dream of that silly girl at the dinner party when I’ve got my pretty wife bent over the kitchen counter for me, hm?” 

You tried to come up with a response, but each thrust tore the breath out of your chest. He continually hit so deep, stretched and molded you to his form, that it was impossible to focus on anything else. Judging by the way he continued his rambling, he didn’t seem to mind your strained moans being your only answer to him. 

“No, darling, I’m all yours, always will be. C’mon, say it. Wanna hear it from that sweet mouth of yours,” he prompted. 

It was like he had hard reset your brain. Every time you tried to open your mouth to answer him, nothing but a squeak came out. John’s hand snaked around the front of your hips, and while he continued to thrust his fingers lazily played with your clit. Not enough to get you off, but certainly enough to grab your attention. 

“Say it, love. I can feel how close you are. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

He was close too, you could tell by the guttural strain in his voice alone. Pressing your forehead harder into the countertop, you squeezed your eyes shut as you finally willed your voice to cooperate. 

“You’re mine! All fucking mine, please John, need it so bad,” you babbled half-coherently. 

No longer teasing you, the pressure of John’s fingers on your clit was purely intentional. Swirling, twisting, searing; your orgasm sucked all the air from your lungs until you were reduced to nothing but a writhing mess on the countertop below him. His torso collapsed onto you at the sensation of your cunt attempting to milk him dry, and his teeth nipped at the tip of your ear as he clumsily chased his own high. Once the pressure of overstimulation had built so high that it was almost uncomfortable, John suddenly stilled inside of you, pressing himself up against the stiff curve of your cervix as his cock pulsed inside of you. His grunts softened to heavy panting as he kept himself there, torso pinning you to the counter as he pressed wet and messy kisses to the side of your head. 

The two of you stayed like that for quite some time, but eventually your hips began to ache, and your lungs burned from the added pressure of your husband attempting to crush you with his affection. John slid out of you with a heavy sigh before he assisted you in standing up straight where he let the skirt of your dress flow naturally around your legs before he pulled your back into his chest once more. Content, you leaned your head against him as you tried to ignore the shaking in your knees. But John refused to let you stumble or fall as he kept his arms wrapped securely around your middle while continuing to press kiss after kiss to the side of your head. 

“I love you,” he murmured. “There’s no one I want in this world besides you. I’m sorry about tonight. I’ll pay better attention next time.” 

Still trying to catch your breath, you reached a hand up over your head until you caught the back of John’s neck in your palm. A fine layer of sweat had built up there. You couldn’t imagine how warm he must have felt in his suit. 

“I suppose I can forgive you,” you teased. 

The two of you stayed like that for some time, mumbling sweet nothings to one another, until the exhaustion from the night's events settled deep into your bones. The shower you took together after that washed away any lingering frustration, and the bed seemed twice as warm that night as you were wrapped in his arms. As sleep began to pull at your eyes, all your brain could think about was him, your husband, John Price, and how he was all yours and no one else’s. 

sorry the ending is trash i didn't know how to wrap it up ):

[chasingrainbowsforever]

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[solbaby7]

Burn Baby Burn (pt.2)

Cassian x reader

warnings: flirting, some angst, violence, maybe a little smut and a jealous Illyrian baby—i got a little carried away but i had a vision

summary: Cassian’s been busy and you come up with a plan to get his attention back—no matter how toxic your tactics may be

—

“Now remember, we just need a rough estimate of their troops.” Rhysand had already gone over the details of the mission three times, his violet eyes stern when regarding you. “The second you feel danger, you leave.” The words hold no room for defiance, hands curling around the fleshy parts of your arms as he continues, “I don’t need you being a hero, I need you to get back in one piece. That is an order.”

“Yes sir.” The term of respect sounds foreign on your tongue when regarding a male you’d looked at as family but something in his tone forces you to understand that even while a huge part of accepting the mission in the first place was just to piss off Cassian, the true danger of the situation never changed. Silly games aside, you’d be in the Autumn Court, filled with males with fiery gifts and even more heated tempers to match. Rhys had went over it twice, stressing how little regard they had for their women and for you to be twice as cautious as usual. “Get a number and get out. Should be easy enough.”

He runs an eye over you, taking in the dress Mor had chosen with a sigh. “Has Cassian seen you yet?”

“Cassian doesn’t seem to have much time for that sort of thing lately.” There’s no hiding the bite in your words or the little frown at tugs at the sides of your mouth as you run your fingers over the glimmering gems on your dress. It covered enough—the material thick and sturdy as it moulded to the shape of your breasts. It took some getting used to have so much midriff exposed, the cut out slicing at an angle from one side to another, the two pieces of fabric at your hip connecting by thin gold chains adorned in more diamonds.

It was classy enough but the sex appeal was unmistakable and while none of the important bits were exposed, the material of the dress made it seem like you were wearing nothing but your skin. Rhysand sighed, fighting the urge to buy into affairs that technically weren’t his own but the two of you were family and seeing you both fighting threw off the feel of the house. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t think you should be going if you’re only doing this to get back at him.”

“Not everything is about him, Rhys.” You take a step back, willing your anger to contain itself as you fixed yourself, a painted finger running over glossy lips and curls that Nesta had promised would last all night if you just stopped running your hands through them. “I meant what I said. One night where someone will actually notice when I walk in a room and compliment me—even if it is Eris and his stupid, disgusting mouth saying it.” Tears well in your eyes at the embarrassment that swells from the confession and with a sharp breath, it’s all gone and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes pulls across your cheeks. “I should go—I promised Nesta I’d say bye before I left.”

“Just Nesta?”

Your heels stop their clicking on the floor, the skirt of your dress held in your hands when you turn your head to look up at him. “She’s the only one who asked me to.”

You walk away before you can see the look of pity you’re sure is settling into his eyes and you don’t turn back when you walk down the hallway until you’ve reached Nesta’s room at the end of the hall and slipped inside.

She’s in bed; hair wrapped in tissue paper curlers, book nestled in her hand and you notice that she still refused to touch the fireplace, the oil lantern burning in its place to her left. “You headed out?”

You nod with a little smile, offering a little twirl when she admired your dress once more. “Right after this.”

“You visit your general yet?”

Nesta had always been good at that—prodding at sensitive topics while appearing uninterested, steely grey-blue eyes returning to her books pages as if she’d never said anything at all. There’s a pause, a gulp as you swallow and she doesn’t miss the nervous cracking of your knuckles at your sides. “No.”

“You going to?”

“I don’t see how that would be helpful.”

Finally she looks at you, a brow raised in faux confusion as she pointed a finger at you, your clothes, the hair and makeup that she and Mor had spent a little more time than necessary on—silently picking their sides without rattling the stability of their home and its structure. “Oh?” It comes out a little bored, as if you should’ve been clued in already. “Forgive me, I had just assumed that you’d understood that we didn’t take such time on you for no reason. I said get his attention—can’t do that without showing him what the hell he’s missing.”

A beat of time passes, you mouth a little wide as you look down at yourself once more before staring at the eldest Archeron sister. “Where did you learn about all of this?”

Nesta shook her book a little, her face finally morphing from its permanent cool expression to a content smirk. “I read. Now leave, I’m just getting to the good part.”

An incredulous laugh passes your mouth and it doesn’t subside until you’re in the hallway, the door not even fully closed before you’re slamming into a body much bigger than your own. Hands wrap around your waist before you fall back, profanities mixed in with apologies until you recognize that smell—those hands. The dark hair hanging at his shoulders. “My bad, I was just—“

“You’re actually going.” It comes out no louder than a whisper, hazel eyes widening at the realization, hands tightening their grip on your waist as if pure brute strength alone would be all it took to make you stay.

A few seconds pass and the house suddenly seemed too small even with its many rooms and wide hallways. All rational thought scrambles with his hands on you, warmth radiating on the skin exposed at your left hip. He’s so close, the smell of his soap, the conditioner he’d no doubt used more than necessary because he liked how soft his hair felt afterwards. You take a shuddering breath, hands on his forearms, fingers curled around, unsure if you wanted to tug him closer or push him off. “Yes, I am.”

For the first time he seems to take in your attire, the sultry eye makeup, your pouty lips covered in shiny gloss and something like anger flashed in his iris as he seemed to remember who’d you claimed you were wearing it for. The warmth on your body retracts in an instant, a sneer on his mouth and you can’t help the pang that digs into your chest.

Your arms cross over your body, insecurities on overdrive at the disgust that radiated from him the longer he stared. You blink away the tears that burn at your waterline and after a sharp breath, you square your shoulders and straighten your spine. “If you’re quite finished—“

“As a matter of fact, I’m not.” Your brow quirks at his raised voice, your hand settling on a poked out hip at his outburst. “What was that back there?” Cassian questions, tone settling down to nothing but barely a whisper as he stood before you more so resembling a young boy rather than a great commander of armies. “The things you said—were they.” He stops himself, eyes closing briefly before clearing his throat. “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?”

“Which part?” He repeats as if you’ve said something stupid, hands smacking at the sides of his thighs. “All of it. You—“ Cassian stops again, eyes squinting a little as if he’d called a council meeting in his brain and the whole sleuth of determined soldiers gathered, firing off a million different possible sentences. “You want another males attention?”

You sigh, anger beginning to subside when he spoke so softly, eyes so wide and vulnerabilities beginning to make themselves known. “I do if it gets yours.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Cassian snarled, hand waving the words away as if it were smoke in the air and you force yourself not to notice the tight fit of his sleep-shirt; sleeveless and snug, the grey color doing little to hide every dip and hard ridge of his body. The sharp ‘V’ peeking from the loose sleep pants have you sucking in a harsh breath, a blush fanning as you tear your eyes away from him.

“Is it?” You sound a little distracted, mainly because of the growing need that ensued from such proximity with the Illyrian and when you begin back down the hall and towards the foyer, Cass is hot on your heels. “I mean have you even noticed anything at all this week? I’ve been practically throwing myself on you and I’m certain you don’t even have a single clue on what I’m talking about.”

There’s no need to turn back to face him, you’re positive his silence is his filing through every second that had passed since returning home, every rejected attempt at spending a second of time together, every dejected sigh, every unreciprocated declaration of love and for a split second, you think he finally gets it when a softness settles into hazel eyes. “I am the General Commander of all armies for the Night Court.“

The ember of hope dies just as quickly as it burned to life and a snarl pulls from your throat. “Obviously, I know that.”

“—I am busy.”

“I know.”

“There’s just not enough time in the day for me to complete all of my responsibilities and then come home and baby you—“

Your steps halt to a stop, body freezing in place and the rigid line of your spine seems utterly unnatural. “Oh?”

“I didn’t mean that.” Cassian waits for the yelling, maybe some tears,braces himself for a few well placed smacks before showering you in apologies. “I really didn’t mean that.”

But the yelling never comes.

“I really should get going.” Your steps continue and this time when Cassian reaches out a hand to curl around your arm, you rip it away, steps faltering in your heels as you stumble to create distance between the two of you.

“Please—“

“Save it.” The eerie calm lacing every syllable is enough to make him flinch. “I’m busy and there’s just not enough time in the day to complete my responsibilities and baby you so just fucking save it.”

Words died on his tongue, mouth still parted with the intent to explain but you’re already gone, winnowed away without so much as a glance and Cassian can’t stop staring at the spot where you once stood. His jaw clenched when he hears a sigh emit from his right and none other than Nesta stood in the archway, tissue paper curls still tied in her hair, shoulder leaned against the wall with arms crossed over her chest as she peered at the soldier. “Idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

She scoffed, glare never faltering and if Cass was being honest, she didn’t look intimidated by him in the slightest. “You heard me then, so hear me now. Keep up what you’ve been doing—keep pushing her away, neglecting her to the point where she’s skipping meals and guzzling down half her body weight in alcohol or when she looks in a mirror and stares at herself like she’s the scum beneath your shoes—“ Nesta’s voice catches and the soldier doesn’t dare comment on it with her arms now hanging in fists of rage at her sides and the growing fire in that blue-grey stare is enough to have Cassian’s fingers twitching for the hilt of his sword. “You keep that up and I’ll show you exactly what I devoured when Hybern threw me in that Cauldron.”

—

The Autumn Court certainly knew how to throw a party and after a quick scan of the attendees, your previous nerves about your revealing clothing immediately subsides. Remaining aware is an easy feat with so much to look at, bright balls of golden flames floated in the air around the room casting their romantic shadows over the crowd.

One half of the room was dedicated to food, giant tables filled with refreshments, cheeses and breads, fresh fruits and cured meats. Giant flower arrangements beckon you closer, bending at the waist to take in the smell of blushing roses and golden azaleas. “A beauty admiring beautiful things,” A voice sounded from behind you , the arrogant aura washing over like the nights tide. “That’s not something you see very often anymore around here.”

“Eris,” You greet, a picture of professionalism as you refrain from smacking him clear across his face for what he’d done to Mor alone. Instead you offer a smile when he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I’m sure you say that to all the pretty ladies.”

“That may be true,” Eris held a glass of champagne casually between two fingers, his suit such a dark shade of red it appeared black in certain lighting, a fitting contrast with his crimson tresses. “—but you’re the only person I’ve said it to tonight. Stole my attention the second you stomped through the door.”

A blush begins to burn at your cheeks at the complement, face turning to the side and you busied your hands by stealing a champagne flute of your own when the waitresses in flowing auburn dresses glided by with trays full of drinks. “I did not stomp.”

“You did,” He insists over a gentle chuckle, staring down at you over the rim of his glass. You’re too busy skimming over the assortment of food to notice the way the eldest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court is taking in your figure like you’re one of those sculptures carved from marble that resided in the museum—its beauty forever persevered for others to observe. “I looked over because I thought one of the horses had wandered in.”

The laugh that emits isn’t exactly pretty, a quick bark of a thing but Eris still smiled because it was real. “Prick.”

“That’s definitely true.” The glass of champagne is finished in one gulp, shirt unbuttoned so low you could see the entirety of his firm chest flexing as he reached out a hand. “Dance with me anyway?”

Your eyes squint up at him, taking in the offered hand carefully before copying his actions and downing your glass, hand sliding into his own when you’d set the flute down. “I had a few glasses of wine before I got here,” You say without thinking. “Don’t complain if I step on your toes.”

The grin that smears his face is purely mischievous, interlocking your arm with his own, one hand resting over yours where he’d placed it on his bicep, he leads you through the thick of the crowd. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

Eris spares a seconds worth of a glance towards the group of pristinely dressed people with all sorts of instruments in their hands, music changing on cue and the bouncy tune shifts into something slower—more sensual. He faces you fully, the distance between you no more than a few inches and the burning warmth of a hand that settles low on your waist is borderline unbearable. It had been so long since you’d been this close to a male—to any male other than Cassian and Baron’s eldest son seems to notice. “Just relax,” He croons, decades worth of entitlement evident in the smooth glide of his dancing, the movements fluid, second nature as if he’d done it every morning since the day he could stand sturdy on two legs. “I’ll protect you if your big, bad Illyrian soldier comes looking for you.”

Your head jerks back at the taunt, fingers gripping tighter where they’re loosely resting on his shoulders, the lingering smell of cedar wood and bonfire smoke, freshly cut grass and the nights breeze in the middle of August present on Eris’ skin. “Trust me, he won’t be.”

His brow quirks at the underlying heat in your tone, the flicker of upset in your eye that he nearly mistakes for a shadow from the burning balls of light above. “In that dress? He’d be an imbecile not to.” You squirm under the attention, unable to keep eye contact as doubt crept in. A finger curls under your chin, forcing your head up gently and the undeniable hunger in Eris’ eye burned hotter than the crackling flames of the bonfires outside. “You’re the most beautiful thing in here.”

“It’s not kind to lie.”

His tone shifts, a frown pulling at the corner of full lips and abruptly he stops dancing. “I have never claimed to be a kind man,” Eris informed, words firm and it takes little time for you to realize that this was now the first born heir of the Autumn Court addressing you. “Hundreds of thousands of soldiers suit up for battle and die by my command.”

Hundred of thousands?

That was certainly a higher number than Rhysand had anticipated after the war with Hybern.

“I have never claimed to be a kind man,” He repeats, his hand never leaving its spot on your hip, his finger still remained curled under your chin, thumb tracing against the line of your jaw. “But I am honest and you are the most beautiful thing in this room. The fact that you don’t already know that,” Eric lets out a gentle scoff, seemingly transfixed with your mouth. “—I should waltz through the Night Court and steal you from him myself.”

Your breath catches and you pray he can’t hear the hammering of your heart against your chest. Your lips part to say something back. What? You’re not yet sure but a familiar scent fills your senses before you can figure it out. “I’d say she’s just about done here.”

“Oh look,” Eris all but purred, lids going lazy as his gaze dragged from your face to the towering man behind you, wings pulled tight behind his back and swords sleuthed between them. “It seems your Illyrian did come after all—we should’ve put money on it.”

“I’m not much of a gambler.”

Cassian’s hand clamped around your arm, grip firm when he pulled you from Eris’ grasp and tucked you under his arm, wing fanning out to completely block you from the eldest son’s line of sight. “If you ever touch her again—“

Eris shrugged casually, an amused smile on those sharp features. “Someone should be. If you can’t get the job done then let her be with a male who will.”

It all happens so quickly, you being gently moved to the side before Cassian threw a punch right at Eris’ face. “Shit,” You snap into action, quick to use yourself as a shield between the soldier and the High Lords heir, hands firm on Cassian’s shoulders as you use all of your strength to push him back. It takes a second but he finally allows you to move him, retreating from the crowd of gaping citizens too drunk to comprehend what had even happened.

But Eris only laughs, blood staining his teeth as he watched you leave.

—

Rhysand is already at the front door when you return, jaw set and eyes dark in your anger as you stomp into the house, hands reaching down to rip your heels off as you pass him. “I take it, it didn’t go well.”

“It was going perfectly fine until that fucking overgrown pigeon showed up.”

The High Lord hides a laugh behind the back of his hand, face returning to its original expression at Cassian’s sharp glare. “So you got the intel.”

“Oh, I got it alright.” You snap as you bound through the office doors, throwing your shoes to the side as you immediately start for the High Lords liquor cabinet. “He’s got hundred of thousands of able bodied soldiers at his command.”

Rhys and Cass filter in behind you, shutting the door with a click and both keep a healthy distance from you. Rhysand watches the drink you pour, the harsh grip on the glass and the way you barely flinch at the eighty year old whiskey. Cassian is no better, hands shaking, blood smattered across five knuckles and chest heaving like a bull preparing for battle. “Alright, well then what happened?”

“Everything was going fine,” The words break from you like a dam, a mix of frustration and anger, embarrassment for all those eyes on you while Cassian caused a scene, the burning need that pulsed between your thighs watching the Illyrian punch at Eris like the sand filled bags they used at the war camps. “—we were just dancing and Eris was telling me everything until he showed up acting like some white knight and fucking punches him in the face.”

Rhysand’s lips purse into a straight line, violet eyes filled with disappointment when he turned to regard his brother but Cassian wasn’t having it. “His hands were all over her! I mean seriously Rhys, you should’ve been there—you’d have done the same shit if it was Ferye.”

There’s a pause, a moment where Rhys’ eye glaze over and Cassian remained rooted in place, hazel eyes never leaving his High Lords as he bared his mental walls and broadcasted the entire scene like a motion picture movie. “Oh,” The High Lord murmured, hands settling into his pockets after leaving Cassian’s mind. “Well since you’ve returned safety in one piece as promised, I’m going to go anywhere else but here.” He backs out of the room, a smug little smile on devilish features. “Keep it down though, people are sleeping.”

You scoff at him, intent on grabbing your shoe and throwing it at his head but Rhys is gone before you can even get it in your hands. “I’m going to bed.”

“Like hell you are,” Cassian stops you with an outstretched wing, arms crossed around his chest and stance rooted in place as he regards you firmly but there’s something in those hazel eyes that compels you to listen—to stay. “We need to talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about Cass? I had orders, I followed them and you nearly ruined everything because you don’t want me but another male wanting me is somehow much worse.”

The Lord of Bloodshed raised a brow, utter confusion lacing hard features. All the fight seems to dissipate at once and he’s quick to fill the space and take the drink from your hand. “Why would you even say that? I love you, you know that.”

“Do I?” You say but it sounds more like a whine than anything remotely worth respecting and it’s pathetic how easily your body gravitates closer to his radiating warmth. “I can’t even remember the last time we’ve even talked for this long without you disappearing off.”

A stressed sound claws its way from his throat and suddenly his hands are on you. Cupping your cheeks to keep your eyes on him, sliding down to where Eris had touched near your jaw, down the length of your neck and collarbones before stopping at the dip of fabric near your chest. “You’re right.” You’re prepared to need to explain further, to plead your case to the stubborn General but the low drag of his voice catches you completely off guard.

It feels as through he’s robbed you of breath when he continues his exploration down your frame, thumb grazing over a jewel near your heaving breast and the little whimper that it pulls from you makes your head fall down. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not,” He assures, palms sliding slowly up and down the length of your arms before finding their home around your waist, long fingers splayed out at your hips and for once the warmth there feels right—comforting. “You’re right.” Cassian murmured softly as he lifts you up and sets you down on the giant work desk.

Words escape you when those hazel eyes are finally on you, large body towering over your own as he rakes in your dress and it doesn’t take much to know he can surely hear the pounding of your heart against your ribcage. “I got too caught up in the work,” A finger goes with the gem lined chains at your hip and the touch sends goosebumps down your flesh. “—forgot about my duties at home.”

There’s a pause and when you look up from where his hands are touching you, you realize he was waiting for an answer, a brow raised expectantly. You nod slowly, voice barely audible. “Right.”

“Right,” His finger trails down further, down the slit on that side and his touch is greedy when feeling the soft skin of your legs. Cassian steps closer, hips caged in by your thighs and a breathy sound passed glossy lips when you feel the hardness of him press right there. “How foolish of me.”

“Cass—“

The bottom of your dress is sliding up before you can even comprehend that this was really happening, everything you’d been hoping for all those nights you’d spend stuffing yourself in those corsets and flimsy underwears for a second of this kind of love and affection. You can’t even remember what you were arguing about when you’re gently nudged to spread out for him and then the General Commander of the Night Courts armies knelt down before you. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“I—“ But the response get stuck when his mouth begins pressing kisses into any skin he can get his hands on, suckling gentle marks on the inner parts of your thighs until you can feel his breath fanning over the flimsy pair of underwear covering you. “Fuck—I can��t think.”

“I’m sorry baby,” He croons and it’s supposed to be soothing but with his hands all over, his mouth so near to the place where you’d needed him the most for weeks now—your body is on overdrive, squirming and desperate for a breath of air that isn’t laced with Cassian’s seductive words and eyes that were telling you everything he planned to do to you before he’d actually done it. “Such a pretty thing like you should never have to wait so long to feel good. Could you ever forgive me?” It comes out so soft, almost patronizing when he pulls your undergarments to the side and pressed a kiss to your weeping cunt.

A string of profanities tumble past your mouth and your hands are grasping for purchase at your sides to brace yourself but you can’t focus and every single inch of your body felt like it was being kissed by lightening. “Cassian, please.”

“Don’t beg me baby,” He’s not even looking at you anymore, too focused on running his fingers through the sloppy mess between your thighs. “Command it—I’m at your mercy.”

The words pull something out of you, a moan that can’t be contained and your hand digs into thick dark hair to guide his face back to your pussy, voice cracking with want when you pant out, “Show how sorry you are and don’t stop until I tell you.”

Cassian’s tongue is lapping at your dripping sex before you can even finish your sentence, words replaced by broken moans as he fucked you with his tongue like those sweet ice creams Elaine always had in the freezer. It’s instinctual the way your hips buck up into his mouth, legs shaky and toes curling around the edge of the desk as that tight coil in your belly grew tighter. He only groans when you cum on his tongue, fingers breaching past your clenching hole while he worked you through it.

Nothing can tame the ravenous moans that emerge, breathless gasps and hands that rip the dress up higher just to watch him work. “Cass,” His name breaks on your tongue, head thrown back and the gravely groan that rumbles through his chest is enough for you to begin to pull away; legs too shaky and body too boneless to hold yourself up but the grip around your waist is too tight. “Fuck, I can’t—“

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hear you or maybe he just doesn’t give a fuck because once he’s started he really wouldn’t stop and you worried that if he’d ripped another orgasm from you so soon, you’d pass out. “Cass, please.” Your legs won’t stop moving, toes spreading and curling at his shoulders and you suck in a greedy breath. “Need your cock—I want it Cass please.”

His movements slow to a halt, fingers retreating, mouth dripping and chin glistening when he stands to his full height, wings spread out behind as stiff as the fat cock straining under his fighting leathers. “That’s all you had to say.” Cassian doesn’t even bother fully taking them off, just undoing the buckle and sliding it down enough to fish out his length and tap it gently between your thighs. “I really am sorry, you know.” He confesses, his cock sliding between your slick lips and when the thick head of his tip catches your clit your eyes flutter shut. “So, so fucking sorry.”

The emotion in his voice makes you chin wobble a little and you push away the need to say more when his tip teases your entrance. “I know.” Your hand raised to caress his cheek, to tuck back the dark strands of hair that hang hear his shoulders and the your comforting tone shifts into something different—slower and filled with need as you spread your legs wide, dress sliding from your shoulders and neither of you move to pull it away from where it bunches at your middle. “But, if you fuck me real good, I might just forgive you.”

A glint shines in those hazel eyes. “Is that an order?”

Your hands brace yourself on his neck, grin matching his own. “It’s a command, General.”

Taglist:

@justdreamstars @star611 @wallacewillow0773638 @amara-moonlight @beezusvreeland @aroseinvelaris @naturakaashi

[peterthepark]

𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀̄𝐒

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ graphic smut, rough sex, roleplay (elf princess x knight), dirty talk, oral sex (m!receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected piv, breeding kink, brief hair pulling, creampie, wannabe game of thrones x lotr

summary: you and eddie indulge in some roleplay sex and enjoy yourselves way too much.

note: based off of this post! thank you for the cool smutty idea!

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

Your quavering voice echoes from the other side of the bathroom door, accompanied by a soft jingling of bells and the rustling of skimpy chainmail. There’s an uncertainty to your tone, a meekness and an innocence that has Eddie reeling at the newfound softness of his usually-confident and loud-mouthed girlfriend. 

“I would never stoop so low to disrespect the Princess like that.” He quips, an excited smirk tugging at the twitchy corners of his lips when the knob rattles with a click. He drops to a whisper, wedging his forehead in between the doorframe and the shut door. “Hey, I swear on my life, baby.”

“Fuck, you so owe me after this.”

“I’ll pay you in orgasms. How does that sound?” 

Hesitantly, your flustered face peeks out from the crack, hands swatting at him as he immediately tries to reach for you. “Can you at least close your eyes and let me do a grand reveal?”

“Are you trying to get me to cream my pants?”

You arch an unyielding brow, amusement dripping like honey in your next words. “But don’t you want to fuck me, my knight?” 

Silence. Utter silence. 

Now, that seems to shut him up. Eddie’s palms come to raise in a playful surrender, his plump bottom lip jutted out as he pedals back into the couch and plants himself down with a submitting, quiet thump that lets you know you’ve got him already wrapped around your little finger. 

“Are your eyes closed?” 

Impatiently, he shifts on the leather cushions when he feels your ethereal presence fill the living room, fists balled up beneath his loose tunic as filthy thought after filthy thought begins to permeate his melting brain. “Mmm, unfortunately.”

You clear your throat, rolling your shoulders back anxiously as you smooth your trembling hands down your body for one final time and properly straighten yourself out. “Okay, here goes. Open them.”

His lashes flutter wildly in awe as he stares across at you, pupils darkening and irises clouding when you card your nails through your hair, attempting your best to look all coy and alluring. Eddie’s mouth runs dry as he drinks you in — a silken skirt sits lowly on your waist, one singular rectangular cloth drapes down your crotch while your thighs remain exposed by high cuts in the rich fabric, adorned by gems and beads that run layered across your midriff. The matching bra is held up by delicate chains that connect to the elegant choker around your pretty neck, little to none left for the imagination as wispy curtains suspend down your arms and shoulders, a complete paradox to the lack of clothing on your body. 

Your skin glows despite the dim yet quirkily romantic candlelit lighting of Eddie’s trailer. Your makeup remains dewy and diaphanous while an artificial blush landscapes over your cheeks and nose, eyelids glittery and sensually droopy from all the attention your boyfriend can’t help but give you.

And to top it all of, the fucking elf ears that peek out from between your generous locks of hair.

His elven princess.

“Ser Edward?”

“Fuck, babe.”

“Ser Edward.” Your voice is firmer, steadier now that you’re able to read his obvious expressions, like the wrinkle between his brows, the hungry purse of his lips, the nervous sheen of his flushed skin as you slowly approach him — even going so far to add an exaggerated sway of your hips. “Do you like what you see?”

“I do. I… Princess…” Eddie gasps out as you swing your legs on either side of his lap to straddle him, your arms linking behind his neck as you gaze down innocently into his lust-blown eyes. “I don’t believe I am worthy. Worthy of touching you. Worthy of…” You nudge your nose against his, urging him to go on. “… of even seeing you when you look like this. It is forbidden, Princess.”

“Are you not an honorable man? Do you lack honor?”

“I am the most honorable man in your kingdom.” He tilts his head up towards you, his words spilling warmly into your open mouth. You breathe each other in, grasping at his biceps and chest desperately. “Which is why we cannot do this. I said an oath to the Gods, to you, and I cannot break it.”

You rock yourself against his growing erection, arousal building between your thighs with each purposeful roll of your hips. “I say fuck your oath.” 

“Princess Y/N…” You cup his cheek, stroking your thumb beneath his eye and hovering over his lips. “I am your sworn protector. Your guard. Your servant. Your knight. Without this title, I am — I am nothing—“

“You are lowborn.” His hand comes up to the side of your throat. You bare it to him, thrumming under the heat of his flesh as he delicately traces the outline of your jaw. “You are mortal. Ordinary. Powerless.” Eddie whines when you press your cunt down against his clothed cock, eyes screwing shut when you take his hands and cup them over your tits. “Yet here I am, making a whore of myself for my handsome knight. Please, Edward… would you do me a favor? Do me a favor and satisfy your elven princess?” 

Eddie physically shudders.

“Christ, you’re good at this.” He whispers, a serious shift in his demeanor. “Like really good. You’ve never done this before?”

A cheeky smile starts to spread across your glossy lips as you lovingly tilt your head, “Are you seriously breaking character right now?”

He snarls as he paws at your hips, dramatically bringing you flush against his chest with a curled upper lip. “If we do this, Princess… if I fuck you, you must promise me that you won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.” 

“Not even my closest confidants shall know.” You bat your lashes at him, gliding your nails across his goosebump-riddled collarbones as you nip at his throat with your teeth. “Bed me. Bed me like a common whore.” 

“Is that what you desire? You want me to fuck this highborne princess cunt, claim you as mine, sneak into your quarters just so you can have your way with my cock?” He rambles, pushing your hair away from your face as his thumb and forefinger holds you tenderly by the chin, forehead bumping against yours. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You cry out when he reaches for your nipple, pinching it through the bra. “Kiss me, then. Kiss me, Eddie.”

Eddie dies. Right then and there. He becomes putty in your arms, complete deadweight beneath you as he caresses your jaw and roughly pulls your mouth down onto him. His tongue works against yours, taking and taking when his palms venture down your torso, feeling for your tits, your belly, cupping your mound from underneath your skimpy skirt. “Pretty girl, I wanna see you.”

“Do you want to watch your Princess touch herself?”

“Oh, my god — yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.” 

He whines when you peel your lips away from him, a beady string of saliva connecting your hot mouths as you gracefully roll onto the couch, palming at yourself as Eddie carelessly tosses his tunic over his head. The moment you part your oiled legs, he’s fucking rushing to take his trousers off — yet you don’t make any moves to assist him, just watch your knight hornily struggle with the complicated drawstring of his breeches, not even bothering to take it off completely before he’s pulling his bare, reddened cock out for you. 

You lay back against the arm of the couch, one hand roaming your body while the other circles a finger over the wet nub of your clit. Eddie rests on his stomach, tugging on his meaty prick with a tight fist as he watches you — his breathing is uneven, his eyes wide and bright while he takes in the sight of your spread pussy, your small fingers slick with cream as you tease yourself. 

“Look how wet, my love.” You mewl, breasts spilling out from the cups of your bra. Eddie feverishly licks at his lips with a lusted hunger, the tip of his cock leaking with beads of pre-cum while you masturbate in front of one another. “S’all for you. All of it. Do you want to feel it?”

“Please?” He rasps brokenly. Only then do you realize how his hips are rutting against the leather seats, his abdomen rippling with every sloppy stroke that leaves his trembling body. “I want to have your mouth while I touch you.” You nearly groan when his thumb flicks across your swollen meaty clit, his eyes glancing up at yours to take in your pained features. “Am I asking for too much, baby? Wanting my cock in between those perfect lips?”

You nod wordlessly, your blissed-out gaze following Eddie as he rises from the couch and positions himself beside your head, lazily fucking his cock with his own hand before he’s feeding it to your mouth. “You’re so big…”

“Am I? Bigger than any of these lords and kings, aren’t I?” He chuckles lowly, hissing when your throat flexes around the throbbing head of him. “Take it. God, yes — fuckin’ take it.” His voice breaks, murmurs spilling from under his breath. “This is so hot. Oh, fuck — this is hot.”

“Mmm!” Your quivering thighs threaten to shut when Eddie pushes a finger into your cunt, juices dripping down your ass as Eddie works his knuckle against your greedy hole. “Ser!”

“Baby — oh, yes… please, please, more. Gimme this mouth, fuck.” He’s fucking whimpering, his voice higher and pitchier than usual as you attempt to swallow his cock down, fighting the urge to gag when his large balls slap harshly against your spit-covered chin. “Princess, need to… need to fuck you. Put a bastard in you — fuck, you don’t know how good you feel right now, do you? Your cunt and mouth just — just sucking me in, trying to be closer and closer…”

Reluctantly, you pull off of his cock, wantonly gasping for air as tears start to prickle at the corners of your eyes. “Please. Wanna ride you. Wanna ride my knight’s cock and make you cum.”

“Such a goddamn whore, Y/N. Fuck, I don’t — don’t think I’m gonna last if you keep looking at me like that.” Eddie’s hair falls into your mouth as he reaches down and kisses you despite all the wet saliva and spit, maneuvering you into his strong grasp so that you’re sat planted atop of him. “Ride me. Make me the happiest man in the kingdom and ride me, sweetheart.”

And you do just that. Without question.

You guide his leaking, angry tip between your folds, feeling the shaft of his cock begin to stretch out the gummy walls of your cunt — the familiar burn of it, the squelch of your cum mixing together as you lower yourself down onto him, one hand braced over his pec while the other reaches behind you to keep him inside. He’s balls-deep, the bush of hair around his base nestled against your pubic mound as you start to set a pace. A roll of your hips. A slap to your ass. A muffled plea into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as you bounce on Eddie’s hard cock. 

He forces himself to look at you. Forces himself to admire the fantasy he’s made of you — the whorish Elven princess just using him for her pleasure. Forces himself to memorize the way your puffy breasts heave for him, the way your parted lips glisten with pure want, the way your clit is practically dripping from how turned-on you are.

“I love you.” You whisper, head up high and tears glimmering in your eyes as he looks to you. “I love you, Ser Edward.”

The image of your fucked-out expression and beautiful elf ears burns itself into his breeze of memories.

Fuck, he can’t take it anymore.

Hungrily, he kisses down your arms, biting and sucking and licking at your chest till you’re bathing in marks — tainted by him, tainted by bruises and hickies and god-knows-what as Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and thrusts up into you from the edge of the couch. You sob into his neck as he pulls you down by your ass, harsh and braven with his movements when you dig your nails into his muscled shoulders.

“I need to — need to cum in you. I love you. I love you. Fuck, Y/N. My fucking — fucking goddess.” He manages to grit out, nearly drawing blood from your bottom lip when he nips at the flesh. “Gonna fuck you from behind. Show you what it’s like to be a common whore. See how your kind likes it when I give it to ‘em dirty.”

You yelp loudly when he scoops you up and flips you onto your knees, wholly abandoning the couch and pushing your arched form down onto the carpet. You glare at him over your shoulder, moaning in your haze of pleasure as he parts your ass cheeks and easily plows his cock back into you. “Eddie, so — so much. It’s too… m’sensitive.”

“A spoiled princess that can’t handle lowborn cock.”

“Eddie, please!”

He suddenly grabs you by a fistful of hair, your elf ears nearly falling off as he sits back on his haunches and ferally spears his shaft in and out of you. You’re gushing around each drive of his hips, your hands digging into his inked thighs as he places his lips to your sweaty temple — a stark contrast to the way he’s violently handling your body. 

“A pretty Elf that just wants to be filled.”

You cry into his neck, babbling incoherently into him. You don’t know what you’re begging for. Begging him to stop? Begging him to go faster? Harder? Slower? To just throw all wind out the door and forget the roleplay?

“Baby…”

“Are you going to cum, Princess?” He slurs, visibly pussydrunk as his eyes start to cross and roll back into his skull. “Fuck, I’m gonna — gonna breed this cunt. Gonna watch it spill with my… fuck, with my seed. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I love you — I love you.”

The coil in your belly snaps when Eddie’s thrusts stutter.

You spasm, letting out a choked string of curses and moans and you don’t fucking know where these sounds are coming from, but it’s a chorus of sobs and deep grunts — wild and ferocious as Eddie’s fingertips dig into your supple hips and your cunt draws his milked cock deeper inside. 

“Dear god…” You sigh out, your palms gripping onto the carpet for dear life as you go boneless in your boyfriend’s arms. He catches you, a wide palm guiding you kindly by your lower belly so that you can lay against his sticky chest. 

Your eyes flutter open when he places a wet, gross kiss to your cheek. One that makes you laugh at the theatrics of it all. One that brings both you and Eddie down from your chaotic highs, easing you into a peaceful, low lull. 

“My Princess.” Eddie growls fondly into the tangles of your hair, biting at your earlobe. “I hope my service was… of satisfaction.”

You chuckle, reaching back to pet at his cheek. “It was, my knight.” 

“Did so well for me. Thank you, thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for having faith in me.”

You wince when he pulls his cock from your cunt, an uncomfortable gush spilling from you as his half-hard erection sits against his stomach. He tsks audibly at that, knuckles swiping against the slick channel oozing with his thick spend. You have to hold back a laugh when your pussy bubbles with more of his cum, the lewd noise echoing throughout the empty trailer as Eddie envelops you and cradles your head to his heart.

A content, satisfied hum leaves you as your boyfriend continues to kiss down your riddled frame, his lips tracing over the newly-birthed hickies that litter your glowing complexion, smoothing his warm tongue over the bruises down your arms.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah, babe?”

You can literally feel his smile spread against your skin.

“When can we do that again?”

[sorceresssundries]

Gale's Poetry Journal - Reading

OK IT HAPPENED!

'A Rough Tempest' won the vote, so here is Tim reading it 💕

He said so many lovely things about it which I've cut out, what a gem honestly.

He did two poems so there is another one to post teehee.

Thanks for the all the love for the poetry♥️

[lemon-bread-slice]

i'm sorry we just almost got GEMPEARL MARRIAGE??

[Bdubs voice] what is HAPPENING?!

context and rough transcript under the cut (no clip sorry, Ren vods are sub-only, but i'm sure it's already floating about)

So Pearl has just politely turned down Ren, who declares, aghast, "Is it because... I have a beard?!" Pearl agrees. Ren asks what she has against beards.

Gem: "Wait I don't have a beard!" Pearl, without missing a beat: "Gem, you wanna get married?" Gem: "no." Pearl: "oh."

and then they all laugh it off, Ren later saying "I mean i got rejected for marriage cause i have a beard. And a husband- but mostly because i have a beard!"