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[anadytop]

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[heavensgxte]

Besieged part II

part one

tw - noncon, forced marriage, pregnancy mentions, breeding kink, blowjobs, naoya being naoya and being an asshole. naoyas shitty excuse of foreplay. not beta read

wc- 2.1k

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.

a/n- hey…how y’all doin. don’t hate me for posting this over two years later lolol i honestly didn’t think i’d ever get back to this but. i have had been on a writing kick lately. i hope my skills haven’t completely disappeared. thank you for all the love for part one.

You wake up the next morning, covered in dry cum. You feel its presence still very much so stuffed into your cunt. You also feel a warm body draped over yours, looking over at the table you do see a glass of water. You also feel a flaccid cock you must have been warming all night long.

Did he really fuck you until he passed out? You reason he probably did. You look towards the window to find the sun just beginning to rise, not being able to stop the few tears that escape your eyes, a true moment to yourself, sort of. For the last week, the weight of your situation settles, is this really how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?

Eventually, you reckon you had silently cried yourself back to sleep. It was the fact that when you had come to again, your now husband wasn't sprawled out on top of you. But a maid with a worried look on her face gently tapping you awake. Telling you it was time to change the bedding, her skittish voice starting to pull away the curtains of grogginess out of your system.

You make sure to give her a warm smile, nodding and giving a soft thank you. Making a mental note to treat the staff nicely, showing them you are nothing like that vile man you have been legally bound to.

The maid turns away to give you privacy as you move your sore body to plant your feet on the cold floor. Seeing a note laying on your bedside table, picking it up you read it over. “I will be attending my own duties until mid-day, don’t bother me, I shall come find you when I deem it is time. Don’t miss me too much <3” You scoff crumpling the note and tossing it where you found it.

Shivering you pull on the robe nearby, letting the soft fabric hug your frame, giving another smile to the maid, you make your way to the washroom and out of her way. You spot the shower and take a better look at the elegant room. The ofuro and shower separated, traditional yet modern touches adjourning the room. Both bathing options are definitely big enough for two, you mentally note that he had done that on purpose. Looking between the two options, a soak in the ofuro seemed more tempting, something to soothe your aching body from the rough treatment you had taken last night.

Taking a good look in the mirror as you begin to fill up the bath, your eyes widen at the state of your body. Darkened marks adorn your neck and chest, accompanied by bite and scratch marks decorating your thighs and waist. Is he even human? You surely don’t remember the sex being this animalistic, but your fucked out brain probably drifted off after your second or third orgasm you presume.

Hopefully he isn’t this insatiable every night. The thought sends shivers down your spine, keeping yourself distracted by adding salts and herbs you had found sitting out into the steaming water.

Carefully stepping in and letting the warmth consume you, you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting daydreams run through your weary head as you lean it against the edge of the appliance. Near dissociation when.

The brash opening of the door rips you out of your thoughts, you hear his footsteps before you see him round the corner quickly. Ripping you out of your dream-like state, sending your nervous system into fight or flight mode, a shrill gasp emitting from you.

“Ah ha there you are. I was wondering if you were going to wake up or not before the sun went down.” Naoya says as if it was a matter of fact. Cat like eyes trying to peer beneath. “I was looking all over for my little wife.” The man poses with a faux stretch. “I got done with my duties early, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of the evening playing with my new toy.” He begins to shed his daily attire.

Sighing, but not quite in defeat you close your eyes and begin to mutter “well excuse me for trying to take even a bath by my-”

Before you could even finish the sentence, you heard it before you felt it. A smack resounding in the room before your hand flies to your face to soothe the stinging pain. Shocked with wide eyes you avert your profile to him.

You are met with a stern look to his amber eyes, face unreadable. “I will tolerate little from you. I knew choosing you there would be some pushback, a stubborn woman such as yourself. However,  you are smart enough to know and follow expectations regarding being my wife. I do not tolerate back talk. The rumors surrounding my clan are indeed true. We expect traditional wives. You will be absolutely no different.”

Flabbergasted you cannot control your rising emotions as they burst through the seams. “Expectations?! Guidelines?! I didn’t even want this!” No, you will not cry. Not in front of him.

A strong hand grips your face, a force even pulling you from the ofuro. “This. Isn’t. About. You.” Venom laced in his words as he shook your head back and forth. “I don’t care what you want. Surprise wife! You are here for me and me alone. That is your purpose in your pathetic life. Serve me. Warm my bed. Be my personal fuckhole. And bare me an heir. Speaking of fuckholes….” Naoya mumbles. Fumbling around with the cloth on his body. Slipping all of it off, the light illuminating off of his body, accentuated by the steam.

You’d be lying to yourself as to say he did not have a nice body. He did, and a nice cock, 7 and a half inches or so with decent girth and a perfect curve. You would know, the entire night the damn thing was inside of you, you are now very much so used to it.

To add on to his earlier statement, you are being gripped by the nape of the neck, Naoya standing on the stool you use to step into the tub, but he’s not stepping on.

“Open that whore mouth my dear beloved.” How can someone’s words be so venomous yet patronizing?

Taking a moment to process you don’t even see his hand come down to pinch your left nipple, the gasp parting your lips is all he needs to shove it in between your parted lips. Going slow and taking your time is not your dear husband's forte, obviously. As he is instantly gripping the sides of your slippery cheeks and moving his hips to fuck his cock farther and farther down your throat. Your gags, and spluttering echo to and fro through the bathroom, along with the sound of his balls, slapping your chin, pulsing with the need for release.

Though the man above you is groaning, face scrunched up in concentration and pleasure. He protests a moment. “No, no no, fuck, no, need your cunt. Gimme…” Naoya begins to mumble, pulling you up by your arm from the ofuro. “Bend over the edge, yeah, yeah just like that.”

You know it’s futile to argue, and you can’t deny, that he does feel good, is that why your body is betraying you when you arch yourself over the edge of the bathroom appliance? Why you don’t kick and scream when you feel him spread your cheeks to get an adequate view of your cunt glistening with bath water, slightly covered in suds from your attempt of relaxation? Is it that deep down you know that submitting to him is your best option right now? Can you really do this for the rest of your life? In such a compromising position, your thoughts run wild.

All thoughts stop racing through your mind when you feel the head of his cock push in through your tight hole. Shaky trembling hands gripping your hips tightly. Naoya’s head is also whirring in pleasure, just like yours.

“Fuck fuck it’s just as tight as last night.” A sigh emits his mouth. As if his cock in your pussy could melt all his stresses and worries away. Fuck. Is all that he can formulate. Using his hands to bring you back and forth on his erection. A moan threatens to emit from your mouth before you cover it with your hand, no you cannot give him that satisfaction. Biting down on your hand for some semblance of control.

A semi cold hand finds its way to your warm slick breast, a hardy squeeze as he brings up his tempo. “Y-yeah” he groans. “Take it, like you’re meant to. All you’ll ever be good for anyways.” Naoya growls, speeding up his thrusts. Biting down on your shoulder. Angling his hips to hit deep inside your cunt over and over your G-spot. You swear you can feel him in your chest at this point.

Your hand falls to the edge of the tub squeezing the edge in an attempt to ground yourself from the new found angle. You do not want to give him the satisfaction of his use of your body as his own personal fuck-hole, that he could make you cum from the treatment as well.

“Fu- shit. You’re milking me you bitch!” His teeth detach from your shoulder, his hand gathering at the crown of your head to hold onto your hair and bring his body towards him. “Look at me.” The blond demands. Pace never falters. “A fucking mess from a little fucking.” He hisses. “Who owns you?”

As if he can talk, he’s practically panting and drooling like an animal in heat. The latter question sparks a flood of defiance in you, moving your head side to side.

“Tell me who you belong to if you wanna cum. Otherwise, you can just suck me off and I'll finish all over that pretty face. I don’t fucking care.”

You jolt in surprise as you feel his hand on your clit, lithe fingers swirling the bud. Teasingly coming and going each time you tighten around him. The itch that needs to be scratched is becoming a far bigger problem. Your inhibitions going out the window.

I mean, it's four words, it can't hurt right? Just this once you reason.

“I belong to…” You muster the reward of Naoya’s fingers rubbing your bundle slightly faster. The sounds of your moans and his hips slapping yours echoing in the bathroom.

“G-go on I can’t hold out much longer, stupid cunt feels too good.”

“I-I Belong to y-you! Na-Naoya!” You finally snap at the same time your husband increases the pace of both his fingers and thrusts. Your cunt squeezing him so tight he can barely pull out to go back in, your release exiting out of your spent pussy, splashing on Naoya’s pelvis.

“Too tight, too tight SHIT!” The man curses, pushing himself practically against your womb as you hear him growl, squeezing your body to him so tightly not even paper could come between.

You feel the final twitch as you come down from your high. Warm spurts of cum filling you to the brim.

Naoya pulls out slightly wincing as his spent cock falls out. Mesmerized seeing his pearly cum in your thoroughly abused pussy. Two fingers wasting no time to push it deeper. “I-it has to take. You need to be knocked up.” He pants, as you turn your head worried eyes widening. “Need to make sure you can’t leave. Even if you tried.” The latter part of the sentence comes out more dark as the former.

As you sit and lament over what just happened. Naoya steps beside you to drain the tub, leaving half the water before he fills it again with warm water. You look at him quizzically, he pays no mind, checking the water. Adding some salt and soap to the bath.  Before lifting you up and setting you in without a word. “I have one more errand to attend to.” He exclaims redressing himself. “I will be eating dinner with you. Your husband says before leaving the bathroom. Not waiting for a response from you.

Shock leaves your system. Did he just… Do something nice for you? You won’t say it’s the best aftercare, but honestly you thought he was just going to leave you on the cold tiled floor. Warmth creeps up to your heart at the gesture. You shake your head, scolding yourself. You cannot fall for crumbs. Never for him, anyone but him.

You can figure something out, you reason. Find a way to leave and keep your family safe at the same time. Change your names, move out of the country, something! You cannot stay here, if you don’t leave now. You will be stuck under his heel forever.

[potatoplace]

Mastermind

Dark!Feysand x Reader Modern AU

Part 2 | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend of a few months, Feyre, invited you out for a celebratory drink over your new job, and of course her husband Rhys joins you. The night doesn't go quite as planned, and you end up back at their place with very few wits about you.

Warnings: Drugging, dub-con / non-con, abduction, smut

Words: ~3.8k

Author's Note: so uhmmmm. This idea. Got me to write. Uhhh. Yeah. Enjoy. I sure did hehe 🤭 the chokehold feysand has on me recently is. Very strong. Near irresistible. There might be future parts to this, I'm not sure yet. Read the warnings please!!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Tonight was supposed to be fun.

Your friends Feyre and Rhys had offered to take you out for a drink at Rita’s when she heard about your new job, doing remote work as a graphic designer for a marketing firm.

Feyre’s had suggested the job after all, knowing that your dream lay beyond the coffee shop that you currently work in- well, used to work in, you had quit earlier that day.

That, plus your new, upscale apartment that you rent at an amazing price had made your year considerably better than the last few.

And tonight was supposed to be fun, you had worn your smallest black dress, with tiny straps just barely holding it onto your body.

Yet here you were, being driven home after only two drinks, sitting in the backseat of Rhys and Feyre’s car in Feyre’s arm. You felt dizzy, and heated all over.

It was the type of drunk you rarely felt- overwhelmingly needy and aroused.

You just needed to make it home, and thankfully Rhys and Feyre live in the same building, so there’d be no problems with getting you into your apartment.

This building has way more security than your last apartment, there you were lucky to have never been broken into, with how many times your previous neighbors had been stolen from.

The car came to a slow, smooth stop, and you heard a car door open and shut. Then, one of Feyre’s arms moved from your body, causing you to whine as she opened the door on her side.

The door on your end of the car opened, and you were quickly pulled into the arms of someone warm and solid.

Keeping your eyes open was a struggle, but you managed to tilt your head up, gaze passing over a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and finally locking briefly with intense violet eyes. Rhys smiled down at you, eyes darkened with-

Something.

You were just tired and dizzy and you- oh, you need a shower. The water could drown out your noises, just in case the state you’re in makes you louder than usual. Your thighs rubbed together slightly as your mind wandered, already set on having the feeling of warm water hitting your skin and your hand between your thighs.

Your eyes closed as the three of you passed through a doorway, and a few dings of the elevator later Rhys is walking once more, gentle movements only making you sleepier.

He sets you on the floor gently once you’re in your apartment only-

It’s not your apartment.

“We didn’t think you should be alone right now, darling, with how you’re feeling,” Feyre explained softly, one of her hands already wrapping around yours. “Did you need anything?”

“A shower,” you blurted out, more than ready to have the smell of the club, however faint it was, off of your skin.

“That we can provide, darling,” Rhys said, smacking your ass as he walked away from the both of you. You turned to say something to him, but Feyre was already moving, leading you by the hand.

You passed though a luxurious bedroom, with a California king bed draped in black silk standing out most to you. You could see chains attached to the posts-

“Here we are, Y/N. Did you need help with anything?” Feyre asked, waving her hand to the large bathroom she had taken you too. The shower was open, no curtain or door to close it off from the rest of the room.

You simply shook your head. You could manage a shower on your own, surely, you were already feeling a little better than in the club. “Thank you, Fey,” you said softly, taking her in for a hug.

“Oh, it’s nothing sweetheart. Absolutely nothing,” Feyre replied, pushing the hair away from your face and gathering it into a bun for you, securing it with the scrunchie she’d gotten while you weren’t paying attention. She started the water for you before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

You used a makeup wipe to rid yourself of your makeup, feeling far too greasy to not wash your face, then quickly stripped off your dress and your panties and slipped into the stream of water, sighing when the warm water hit your skin. It felt just as good as you imagined- and then your thoughts went back to what you’d thought of on the way up the elevator.

Your hand slipped down, landing between your thighs as water poured over you. Your fingers dipped between your folds, your cunt already thoroughly drenched even without the water running between your legs. You swirled your fingers around your clit slowly, letting out soft sighs every now and then. The pleasure in your gut grew as you moved them faster-

“Y/N? Did you need help with anything?” Feyre asked through the door, and you quickly moved your hands from between your thighs.

“No, Fey, I’m alright,” you said, cheeks blazing with heat.

“Rhys had a nice idea, would you like to go swimming?” Feyre offered, and you turned to your right to see that she’s in the room with you. You covered your chest, keeping as much of yourself hidden as you could.

Swimming could be nice. And you’d seen their pool, it had such a pretty view, and you’d never gone in it before. You nodded your head, eyes taking note of the bikini in Feyre’s hands.

“Good, you can wear this, darling. I’ll be waiting for you outside, don’t take too long,” Feyre said, blowing you a kiss before she closed the door behind her.

Your cheeks heated even further, you’d never had such a nice and friendly female friend before, let alone such a pretty one. Your thoughts strayed to what Feyre would look like in a bikini- absolutely perfect, you were sure. Fingers dipped back between your thighs, rubbing quick circles over your clit, you just needed to cum once, once then you could go enjoy the rest of your night with your friends-

A knock at the door, right as you were about to finish.

Feyre entered without waiting for you to respond, this time without the stunning black dress she’d been wearing before. Instead, she was completely naked.

You blushed profusely, turning your eyes away from her.

“Oh, darling, you can look all you like. I just thought, since you’re taking so long and I need to shower, I’d come in and just get mine done at the same time.” Feyre paused. “I could leave, if you’d like,”

Your brain was short circuiting, being so close to your incredibly beautiful, incredibly sexy friend of a few months. “Oh, that’s, uhm… that’s fine, Fey.”

Feyre smiled, getting a bit closer to you. “Good. Did you need help getting clean, sweetness?” Feyre asked, her chest nearly touching yours, still covered by your arms. She already had a cloth filled with soap in her hands and began running it across your shoulders soothingly. Your arms slowly feel from your chest, and Feyre took the opportunity to step closer, arms practically wrapped around you as she used the cloth to clean your back, her breasts pressed against yours.

You could hardly breathe, this woman, your friend was so perfect and naked and-

The cloth slipped over your cunt, Feyre’s deft fingers quickly rubbing it over your clit, and a quiet moan escaped you. The cloth was gone a second later, two of Feyre’s fingers sinking into your cunt as the other hand came to rub circles on your clit. You came shamefully quickly, already having worked yourself up so high before your friend entered the room.

“Good girl,” Feyre whispered against your ear before pressing hot kisses down your neck, only pulling away to grab the cloth off the floor of the shower and begin washing you once more. Once she was finished, she pushed you back into the stream of water, rinsing the suds off of your body. “Help me out?” Feyre asked, hands already pushing the cloth into yours. When you hesitated, she made puppy dog eyes at you. “I helped you, pleeease Y/N?”

That was all you needed, body moving of its own accord as your hands used the cloth to clean her body, trying not to linger too long on her breasts, ass, and her sweet looking pussy that at the moment you knew you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in. Feyre rinsed herself off, her hands lingering over the spots you’d wanted to touch longer. You were on the verge of getting on your knees and begging when Rhys’s voice came from the doorway.

“You ladies are so gorgeous,” he said, walking further into the room, and it was then that you noticed- he’s naked, his long, thick cock bobbing invitingly at you, already hard and waiting. You managed to snap your eyes away from him, only to land on Feyre’s chest.

Fuck, it should be illegal for these two to be this hot, you thought to yourself, thighs pressing together as you tried to look anywhere but at your two friends.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre said, walking out of the shower and pulling him with her into it. “You can shower, the two of us will get in the pool. Right Y/N?”

You nodded, letting her grab your hand and lead you over to the towels. She dried you off, lingering over your sensitive areas longer than necessary, then helped dress you in the bikini she was lending you- if you could even call it that. It was practically strings, with small stars of fabric to cover your nipples and a slightly thicker strip of fabric to cover your cunt.

But, if your friends had already seen you naked… what’s the harm?

Feyre was dressed similarly, her bikini in black instead of your silver set. She pulled you out of the bathroom, through their bedroom and out onto the patio. Feyre sat at the edge of the pool, patting the ground next to her, and you joined her a moment later.

You sighed, then leaned your head onto Feyre’s shoulder.

“Feeling better yet, darling?” She asked, her right arm coming up to circle around your shoulders. You nodded against her shoulder, kicking your legs gently in the water. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Would either of you ladies like another drink?” Rhys asked from behind you.

“Yes please, Rhysie,” Feyre responded. “She’ll have a soda, I think. Hmm, baby? Does that sound good?” You nodded your head in confirmation. In no world do you need another drink at this point, for gods sake your friend already made you-

“Let’s get in the water, darling.” Feyre slipped in the pool, water coming to just under her barely covered breasts. “Join me?” She asked coyly, and you couldn’t help but follow her in, making your way to her immediately. The water came up to your collarbones, your height difference feeling so pronounced as you looked up at her, half expecting her to make another move.

“Here we are.” Rhys’s voice cut through the bubble you and Feyre had been in for a moment. You turned to look at him and saw that he was already sitting at the edge of the pool the two of you had entered at, two drinks in hand.

You and Feyre made your way to him, happily taking the drinks from his hand and watching as he slipped into the pool. The height difference between the two of you took your breath away slightly, you felt so small next to him. You took a few greedy sips of your soda to cover up how flustered you are around the couple tonight, every little thing about them seems to be turning you on more and more.

Feyre had taken a sip of her drink and set it back down, choosing to follow Rhys a bit deeper into the water.

You could see as he cupped her ass in his hands, her legs wrapping around his waist as they kissed passionately in front of you-

And you wanted, no, needed to be a part of that, your body already moving towards them before you were able to stop yourself. You turned back to the edge of the pool, feeling hot and dizzy with need like you had been earlier at Rita’s. Quickly, you set your drink on the smooth stone at the edge of the pool and took a few deep breaths.

These are your friends. They’re married. Stop being a whore-

Arms wrapped around you, and Feyre’s soft chest met your back. “Hi darling, not getting too lonely, are you?” She asked lowly in your ear, then pressed a soft trail of kisses from behind your ear all the way down your neck and onto your shoulder. You were leaning back against her by the time she came back up to your ear, lightly tugging on it with her teeth. “Turn around for me, sweetness,” she told you, hands helping move you where she wanted. “Perfect,” Feyre said breathily, before leaning down and pressing her lips against yours softly. The feel of her plush lips on yours was perfect, so gentle and warm. After a few seconds her tongue darted out, and you let her take control of the kiss, dominating your mouth with hers as she pushed you back against the wall of the pool.

When the two of you came up for air, you were filled with need so great you thought you might burst. You noticed a strong, tan pair of arms caging the two of you against the pool wall, and looked up to meet Rhys’s gaze. His violet eyes were filled with lust, matching the grey blue eyes of his wife that were also locked on yours. “What do you say darling? Be ours?” He asked, eyes darting down to your lips.

You tried to think about it, really think about it, but one of Feyre’s hands was between your thighs again, pushing past the tiny bikini and playing with your clit. Your eyes fell shut at her touch, a moan already making its way past your lips.

“Please,” you whined, not fully sure what you were begging for, you just knew that you needed more.

One thick finger slid into you, nearly as big as both of Feyre’s were earlier, and another moan fell from your lips, this one going into Feyre’s shoulder where you’d collapsed into her, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Oh, sweetness, I think it’s time,” Feyre said, disconnecting herself from you. “Get her into the bathroom, Rhys,” she ordered, already pulling herself out of the pool.

You were barely keeping yourself up, but Rhys moved closer to you, pulling you in to his chest. His kissed you gently, drawing a sweet sigh from your lips before he stopped and pushed you up onto the ledge of the pool, then followed you up. He helped you stand, and picked you up after you nearly fell after three steps.

“Silly girl, don’t worry, we’ll have you all nice and comfy in bed soon,” Rhys said, carrying you into the bathroom, where Feyre was already naked and rinsing off. “You got to dress her, I get to undress her,” Rhys snapped at Feyre when she tried to come over to you. She rolled her eyes, but stayed under the stream of water, waiting for both of you.

Rhys slowly peeled the bikini off of you, taking his time to squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples hard enough to make you gasp, and grazing his fingers over your sensitive clit teasingly a few times. As soon as you were bare Feyre came over and pulled you back into the shower while Rhys rid himself of his swim trunks.

The warm spray felt nice on your skin again, especially paired with the gentle touches of the couple surrounding your senses. One of them gently guided your face under the spray of water, and the other cleaned your face with a familiar smelling soap. They rinsed your face carefully, then shut the water off and four hands began drying you off. Once your face was dry you opened your eyes to see Feyre’s pretty ones staring back at you.

“Let’s get your skincare done, sweetness,” she suggested, leading you over to the counter after Rhys had finished drying your body. Feyre applied a toner, moisturizer and eye cream, all of them the same ones that you used daily.

“That’s funny…” you said, trailing off.

“What is, darling?” Rhys asked from where he was stood behind you, arms encircling your torso. You stared at his thick arms, how muscular they are… then you realized that you could feel him- hard and pressed against your lower back. “What’s funny?” He whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what he was talking about.

You didn’t respond. More like couldn’t, when his lips started sucking a deep, purple mark onto your neck and Feyre’s lips covered your own hungrily.

You were nothing but a quivering, needy mess when they pulled away, but luckily for you it was just to move you into the bedroom, onto their massive bed.

“Finally,” Feyre groaned at the sight of you spread out in the middle of their bed, your legs kept apart by their hands. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to taste this sweet pussy?” She asked you, looking expectantly down at your face. “Hmm?” She tapped her thumb on your clit twice, making your hips twitch. You shook your head. “Since the moment I met you. I knew that I needed to have you, that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you weren’t mine and Rhys’s,” Feyre explained, now rubbing small, even circles on your clit. “And luckily for me, well, Rhys has a pretty big breeding kink and once he saw you…” Feyre grinned down at you, eyes soft.

“I knew I had to have you as well,” Rhys finished for her, his head already dipping down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arched as he teased it with his tongue, and between that and Feyre’s fingers you came quickly, breathy moans escaping your lips until Rhys’s mouth was over yours again. “Fuck, you are absolutely perfect,” he groaned.

Feyre fingers had moved away from you, and you were about to whine at the lack of stimulation before her mouth, warm and wet, began devouring you. She lapped up the slick that had leaked from you greedily before moving up to your clit. Feyre slowly licked at your sensitive bud, building up your pleasure once more as Rhys kissed you and played with your breasts, swallowing up the endless moan leaving you. When you were finally able to lift your head an look down at Feyre, you saw that she was grinding her thighs together as she ate you out with her eyes closed, and the sight of her so focused on your pleasure bringing you to the brink once more. You could hardly think when she climbed over you and kissed you, before moving up your body again and seating herself over your face.

Without a thought you flicked your tongue out, moaning at how wet she already was- for you.

Your arms came up to hold onto her thighs as licked at her center hungrily, sure that you had that same expression on your face that she had worn just moments before. You were happily sucking on your clit when you felt your legs being parted by-

Rhys was pushing in to you, the movement of his cock eased by how slick you were, and you moaned into Feyre’s cunt.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t stop,” Feyre ordered breathlessly as she ground her hips down onto your face, forcing you to give she needs. She came on your face right as Rhys fully seated himself inside of you, all of the breath leaving your lungs as he did.

“Fey, she feels amazing. So tight and hot, I don’t know that I’ll ever leave the house again,” Rhys remarked as he began moving in and out of you slowly, letting your cunt adjust to his size as much as it could.

“Good thing we don’t have to for the next week,” Feyre said, still working her hips over your mouth, keeping your senses entirely filled by herself and her husband. Rhys started picking up the pace soon, letting one of his thumb graze over your clit every few seconds, your walls gripping him tighter in response. “Mm, fuck,” Feyre moaned, cumming on your face again, letting her hips twitch over you a few times before climbing off of you and sliding down so she could kiss your swollen lips. “We have plenty of time to train our new little pet.

“Train-?” You started to ask, but Feyre covered your mouth with hers once more, using her fingers to take over for Rhys’s thumb on your clit.

Moans were spilling out of you again whenever your mouth was unoccupied, which wasn’t often. Rhys has figured out just the angle to hit to make you see stars, barely even needing Feyre’s fingers to topple over the edge before Rhys followed you, slotting his hips tightly against yours as he emptied his cum into you.

After he pulled out he kissed you tenderly, fingers pushing as much of his cum back into you as possible as he did so. Your cunt fluttered around the tips of his fingers, so sensitive to every little touch now.

Feyre had disappeared, but came back into the room from the bathroom, a wet wash cloth in hand, and she carefully cleaned off your face.

“I guess we could have waited to do the skincare, hmm?” Feyre asked amusedly, taking in how wrecked you looked already.

“It was just a different kind of facial, darling,” Rhys said, humor in his voice. “Besides, her face is bound to get dirty again before the morning.”

“I suppose that’s true, her mouth is like magic Rhys, I’m sure with a little training she’ll be just as perfect at it as you are,” Feyre said, her thoughts already drifting to riding your face once more.

You were nearly asleep by the time Feyre was done cleaning your face, barely registering the feeling of something being wrapped around your throat and a gentle snick of something latching shut, but you were too tired to think about anything as Feyre and Rhys settled in around you, keeping you secure between their arms.

Lemme know if you guys want a part 2 🫣

[anlian-aishang]

Vampire!Levi & Cunnilingus

Tags: levi x reader, smut, cunnilingus, period sex, blood, reader is propped against the wall, modern AU, college party, alcohol mention, fem!reader Word count: 2200 A/N: Thank you @bluebellhairpin for putting on the incredible Friday Night Bash! Had too much fun with this event 🖤 A/N2: Wrote a similar fic here if you are interested 🖤

You supposed it was only natural. 

At this age, motivation was a scarce resource. The burlier men donned flannel and jeans and called themselves lumberjacks. Any girl could become any cat with enough black eyeliner. 

Levi was the only vampire here, yet his costume seemed to take no more effort than anyone else’s. If anything, he was born a natural. Thin brows and slivered eyes. Jet black hair and moonlit skin. Fangs just barely curtained by red lips. Simultaneously, somehow the most convincing yet the most casually constructed. 

He noticed, you did too, the utter contrast that your roles conveyed. Levi was dressed head to toe in black, sparing only the white cravat tucked beneath his chin. You, on the other hand, had whipped all the white out from your closet and feigned yourself an angel. In his eyes, you weren’t feigning. House party vape could be reimagined as clouds, a heavenly background to your character. It made you shine through the swarm of sweaty brats. You were one of a handful who was neither spilling their drink nor coughing it up. In the middle of the room, a wallflower, staring down at her virgin spirit and clutching it in two hands. 

White tights hugged your legs. Blank sheer skirt hardly hid that contour. Long sleeves for the cold Halloween night, the layers beneath had compounded to caress your curves. You were covered from top to bottom. Still, Levi could read you like a book. Hard cover. Soft cover. Levi clenched his teeth and growled. 

You looked lonely as ever, tugged in contradictory directions of yearning: begging for someone to start the conversation for you, praying that no one would notice you, imagining meeting a guy here, thinking up excuses to ditch this party early. Your desires, Levi saw them, and he longed to fill all of them.

His hands began to twitch, irritated that his thoughts were getting too sentimental for his liking. Indeed, when his thirst neared such dangerous levels, he found composure harder to retain. Nails curled against the glass highball: is she really the one? 

The one he had traversed miles for. The one he had craved for the past several days. A scent and taste he needed so badly, Levi would suffer a college party for it. After all, that was why he was here. He clutched his head with his hand, silk glove smooth against his forehead. Bangs pushed to the sides, he held that grip and released a heavy sigh. At first, he thought he had done well to pinpoint it to one apartment building, even better to one apartment unit. Only once he ascended the staircase, heard the blaring music and saw the glaring lights, did he realize that the hardest part of this search was yet to come. Over a hundred people here. Half of them potential subjects. All he could do was stand idle and observe feverishly: who was the source?

Already, the bias was brewing for you, it was why his pupils were particularly quick to snap at the sudden drop of red that soiled your pristine outfit. Your inner thigh. Levi blinked harshly, but that trickle did not fade. Better yet, it tracked along the inner seam of your pantyhose: blotting, darkening. 

Toes curled against the soles of his leather shoes. Calves strained to dilute his pace as he began to gravitate towards you. From your perspective, strobe flashes of red made his approach play like a slideshow. Before you could discern who he was and what he was doing, the room would turn black again. Suddenly, he was only inches away, steady eyes met your widened ones.

“H’Hey,” Inside of his gloves, Levi pinched the inside of his palm. The attempt to ground himself did not defeat his stutter. “I thought -” a clear of his throat, “- thought I should let you know…” Levi leaned in, his lips to your ear.

His breath was cold on your skin. Beneath your blouse and in the wake of his chill, you felt your nipples peak against the fabric - even more so when he whispered, “You’re bleeding.”

On your gasp, you nearly choked. Levi found it adorable how you immediately, instinctively, brought your hand between your legs. Shameful was your expression. Shameless were your actions. Beneath your skirt, you palmed around, frantically feeling for proof of his claim. Three fingers to the slip of your panties were quickly soaked. With your gaze deadset in shock then panic, Levi allowed himself a lick of his lips. 

You turned over your shoulder to examine your backside, inadvertently revealing it to him as well. A teardrop of crimson just below your spine, having seeped through your underwear, tights, and skirt, Levi was hyper-aware of how wet you must have been in order to achieve those levels of penetration. The thought, the image, of your skin slickened in syrup made his pants turn tight.

His erection surged further when you beckoned him towards the stairway. “Maybe you could help me find a change of clothes?” 

An invitation.

"And help me out of these ones?"

Though watching you bleed through this outfit would be a fantasy for the millennium, he felt his levels dripping to empty. He needed it. Your blood in him. Now. 

But his needs were far from your mind. It was one of the only reasons your roommates had convinced you to allow them to host this get-together in the first place. You can’t sleep with guys if you don’t meet some guys. They had made it their mission to help you find someone, and it didn’t even have to be an eternal someone - though Levi Ackerman happened to be. Someone to show you a good time, to help you unwind a little. Of course, you would not settle for a trash bag, but a man who was willing to display such honesty and no disgust about the symptoms of your period - he had to be a good one, and he wasn’t hard on the eyes either. 

Your expectations had been low, perhaps a little too low. Least of all nights did you expect a booze-filled Halloween party to be the night that you brought a guy up to your room. Flinging open the door, you were met with violent whiplash: why the hell didn’t I clean?!

Chocolate bar wrappers on the floor. Midol on the nightstand. A box of overnight pads at the foot of the bed. Triple-thick tampons in a plastic bag that hung around the other side of your door handle. Worst of all, blood-stained underwear that had sorely missed the hamper and instead carpeted your floor.

“Oh my god, I’m - I’m so sorry!” You darted into the room and tried to fling the evidence out of sight. Obviously, Levi had just been deathly upfront about noticing your period. Yet, you were mortified, back turned to him and hurling apologies, “This - This is not very sexy, I know.”

Levi could only shake his head and clench his teeth. You had that all wrong. He would take this menstruation-riddled bedroom over a honeymoon suite any night. Silent footsteps brought his front to your back, his palm to your waist, “Just leave it,” Levi exhaled, his voice teetered on moaning, “and leave yourself to me.”

His arousal solid and warm against your blood-soaked backside, your enamor spiked: not only cool about this time of the month, but hot for it. You ground yourself against his member, satisfied with his length, you reached your hand to his neck and pulled him close. “Undress me, Levi.”

You were the only one who viewed this as a one-night stand. If anything, Levi hoped that you would live with him forever, that you would continue to flow, and that he could spend eternity swallowing you down. However, the haste in his movements implied that the two of you shared that one-night fervor. Nails scraped down your hips as he yanked your bloodied tights to your feet. Instead of taking them off, he used the excess length to make knots around your ankles, binding your legs into a loop. 

With inhuman strength and alarming speed, Levi had you in his arms and slammed against your bedroom wall before you could summon the breath to screech. Levi slipped himself within the cage of your legs. Backs of your knees to his shoulders. Heels dug into his nape. Your sex dwindled tantalizingly close to his mouth. 

Holy hell, you gasped, no man had ever had you like this before. By this point, you had learned that period sex was a rarity, receiving head during that time of the month - an impossibility. Instead, Levi dove straight in, unlike any of the rest.

And oh, were you spot-on about that. Levi Ackerman was no man. His skills were no act. The hair, the outfit, the fangs no occasion. This was his truest self: out of this world. He was grateful for the holiday, the one day of the year that his vest, slacks, and perfectly polished shoes would stand out. Levi admired the red lights of the party, making everyone’s irises match his giveaway shade. The greatest obstacle - the invitation, the consent - you had granted before he even had to ask. All tells he had fretted over, you made yourself perfectly blind to them. As your sex bled right before his eyes, he could only chuckle and admit, “so fucking pathetic.” 

Perhaps he was projecting. He had not even tasted you yet, had not even stripped you free, and already, he felt he was on the edge. His tip swelled against the cold metal belt buckle. Black pants hid the damp that precum had created. For a second, his mind flickered: which one of you was more wet? The answer came to him, though, by a glob of blood that dripped from your core and onto his white cravat.

Looking down, you were horrified. Mouth fell agape, an utter loss for words. Levi made up for your shortcomings as his sentiment flowed freely. 

“Oh? What’s this? Having a hard time containing yourself?” At his waist, his arousal made a mockingly timed rise. 

His teasing pricked your skin, each capillary blazed in embarrassment. You could not bear to make eye contact, instead, glued to his pristine white cloth that you had forever tainted. Years of experience, you knew those stains did not come out. 

Levi had a way.

Slowly, his tongue slid over his bottom lip and dragged along the silk threads. One strong, deliberate swipe had erased your DNA from the garment. In the throes of midnight, your eyes struggled to be sure, but Levi himself knew. At the first taste of your blood, he was sparked with revival.

“Mmm,” Levi hummed, “tastes good.” For now, he withheld: even better than I anticipated.

Though neither his hunger nor thirst were yet satiated. Not until you were sucked bone-dry, not until your pussy ran clear. Eating you out, he snuck occasional glances to affirm you were not at those milestones. In his frame of mind, rather, he had not yet brought you to them. 

Levi was the kind to savor the taste, but there was little indication of that on this cold autumn night. The motions of his tongue were swift. His slurping was delectably crude, coating his throat and coaxing out even more dirty talk. His canines grazed your most sensitive spots. You thought to ask him to take his fangs off, but in the end, realized you adored them. Good thing, they were irremovable.

Not one drop of you made it past that cravat. Most of your mess had been clotted by his skin. A red stripe ran down his face as he brought his whole front to the middle of your battle. Sweet metal. Saccharine iron. A salted cocktail. That was your drink - one he guzzled. When you asked for his fingers, he would religiously lick them clean.

Your muscles had grown weak, having lost count of how many times you had climaxed thus far. He had kept you in ignorant, mutually selfish bliss for god knows how long. It was only when you reached your arm towards him, combing through his hair and petting his head, that you realized how drained you were. Hardly able to speak, faint and incoherent, “You like that, huh? Like that, Levi?”

Through drenched bangs, he gazed up to meet your eye contact. So fucked-out, you paid no mind to the scarlet of his stare. “It’s like you can’t get enough.”

Cruelly timed, he felt your ridges start to clench around his face again. Nonchalant, he spoke into you as you began to cum again. “Makes two of us, then.”

Words seemed to make rhythm with your waves, and each one, you swore was better than the last. Tilting your head back against the wall, you arched yourself further into him, “F’Fuck, Levi!!” 

How did he - in just one night - manage to do you like this? 

Little did you know, it was not just one night, but an entire lifetime that he had been waiting, anticipating, preparing for this moment. You would remember this encounter as a night that you happened to cross paths with the man of your dreams. Levi saw it a very different way, no chance happening: the evening that he had scoured enough of this goddamned earth. A tale of lifeblood: the clean freak to your mess, monthly or otherwise.

Kinktober Year 3 Masterlist

[seabirdtxt]

Event batch 4

a little later than i anticipated, but the next batch is here!! only two batches left 🤗🩵 thank you to all my requesters!! and apologies if i deviated from your original prompt these things really take on a mind of their own when i write 🫡

🩵 Check out my other event requests! 🩵

for Anon || Scaramouche x Reader - Modern AU, urban fantasy, monster hunters (not main characters), rivals to friends (implied potential for more)

for @resident-cryptid || Foul Legacy x Reader - SAGAU, imposter hunt

for Anon || Tighnari x Reader - Canon setting, Tighnari x reader, Life & Death trope, reader is a mortician, mention/discussion of deaths

----- ⚘ -----

Of the Night

You clutch your side as you dart down the nearest alleyway, foot splashing into a murky puddle. You haul yourself up the fire escape with one arm, doing your best to move quickly. Once you reach the roof, it’s just a matter of speed.

You jump from building to building, hoping beyond hope that your pursuers aren’t parkour experts. There’s only one place that you can think of, the only place nobody will look for you. Your chances of survival either way seem slim.

You find the building you’re looking for, sliding as quietly as you can off the roof and onto the tiny balcony you hope belongs to the correct apartment. Keeping your fingers crossed, you knock on the window of the sliding glass door.

There’s a shuffle of movement inside, and then the blackout curtains move to the side just enough to let a blade of light hit the corner of your eye. You squint into the brightness, offering an apologetic smile around your elongated canines.

The door slides open and a pale hand reaches through to grab you, yanking you inside. You stumble over the door track, whimpering as the movement jostles the arm that’s holding your wound.

“What the hell happened to you?” Scaramouche hisses, his nose wrinkling at the stench of wolf blood.

“... Hunters afoot,” is all you can say before you collapse from exhaustion.

---

You awake some time later, probably not all that long, with a thick padding of bandages around your torso. You sit up, ignoring the screaming pain from your injury, to take in your surroundings. The room is dark, hardly any decorations on the wall, and the bed you’re stretched out on is plain and uncomfortable, as if it’s never been used.

Scaramouche sits at the end of the bed, wiping blood from his hands with a wet cloth. You snort, drawing his attention. His eyes are electric in the low light.

“I’m surprised you didn’t sneak a little taste, leech,” you taunt. The vampire’s expression darkens and he throws the soiled rag in your face.

“As if I want to know what dog tastes like. That’s the thanks I get for patching up your clumsy ass, mutt?” he demands, his insult not quite landing with how worried he looks. “How did you even let it get this bad? Why didn’t you, y’know, wolf out or something?”

“You can’t climb fences with paws, dummy,” you tell him, wiggling your thumbs in front of his face. He pushes your hands back down with a look of annoyance, the tip of his fangs peeking out over his lip with the expression.

It’s the city’s favourite public scandal, that senator Ei and her son are creatures of the night. Due to their standing, and some pretty hardworking PR agents, they’ve been working on fixing the reputation of monsters year by year. Despite some of the new anti-discrimination laws in place, nothing will stop a very determined hunter from going after random citizens they decide aren’t human enough.

Beastfolk like Doctor Tighnari, and Ei’s own partner Miko, don’t get nearly the same kind of bad rep as werewolves. People like you are still heavily stereotyped, despite the countless arguments that you all retain your sound mind during the transformation.

That’s why you’re here, in your old highschool rival’s apartment on a full moon night instead of running around in the park like you’d originally planned. Everybody knows of the age-old feud between vampires and werewolves. Plus, it’s been years since you last saw each other, nobody will associate you with him these days. Nobody will think to look for you here.

You look at the curtained window, then at Scaramouche, who’s still sitting on the bed. His back is to you, a little bit broader than he used to be when you kicked his ass at track and field. You don’t resist the urge to extend your hand, shifting your nails just a tiny bit, to touch the sharp angles of his shoulder.

You don’t make it, of course. Little bugger had lighting reflexes in school too, even if you were the faster runner. He turns and grabs your wrist before it even comes close to touching him. With surprising strength, he pulls you close by your arm until your noses are almost touching.

“Paws off,” Scaramouche mocks you, his slit-like pupils barely visible with his narrowed eyes. He gives you a smirk. “Bad doggie.”

You snatch your hand back quickly, growling softly under your breath. You look down and test the bandages, finding them to be holding firmly.

“... So when d’you want me to get out of your hair?” You ask, knowing that you’ve definitely overstayed your welcome by now.

“You can hide here for the rest of the night,” his answer comes, much too quickly to be anything other than impulse. You raise your eyebrow at that, knowing he definitely sees you with his night vision. He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just say you owe me one later, okay?”

You whuff and kick him gently, which earns you a pillow to the face.

Tomorrow morning he’ll make you breakfast, and you’ll probably eat enough to put him out of house and home, and you’ll tell him all about the hunters who chased you down last night, and sometime over the week you’ll hear through the grapevine about some college kids going missing but you won’t think anything of it.

Sometime during the week, you’ll get a text from an unknown number telling you to use the front door next time, and a six digit passcode for an apartment building security system.

But tonight, you let Scaramouche baby you (as much as he denies it) and you fall asleep in his dumb, uncomfortable bed to the sound of him saying you haven’t changed a bit.

----- ⚘ -----

Blood in the Water

You don’t have gold blood, or super strength, or special powers. What you have is the clothes on your back, a pocketful of change for your bus fare, and a dead phone.

And the face of Teyvat’s omnipresent god, apparently. Not that that’s done you any favors since you got here. There’s been an order to bring your head to this Creator person. Preferably on a silver plate. Maybe a spike, if they’re feeling artistic.

That’s how you find yourself being chased by dozens of people who you thought were your favourite videogame characters. You surely regret it now, having upgraded them and kitted them all with best-in-slot weapons and artifacts. You’re not sure you want to test whether or not you’ll revive like the traveler, so you just run.

You’ve accumulated a plethora of wounds, doing your best to keep them clean and wrapped until you can figure out how to get back home. You move only at night, taking care to avoid places you distantly remember being inhabited. You even avoid the monsters, too afraid that they’d cause a ruckus and attract attention.

You find a cave. It’s not much more than a hole between the cliff face and the ground, but it's a shelter at the very least. You tuck yourself into it eagerly, hoping that the unremarkable location will save you from waking up to a knife pointed at your face.

You wish you could say you slept well, but you woke up barely an hour later to the sound of something scraping against the dirt outside. You risk a peek, and immediately shriek and retreat to the back of the cave.

Just outside, trying to dig his way in, is Childe’s Foul Legacy form. You briefly send a thought to whatever powers that be, hoping you can somehow get out of this alive.

The man stops his scratching, face leaning down to peer into your burrow. You can’t see him, but you get the sense that Childe is smiling behind his mask.

“Wakey wakey, little impostor,” he sings, reaching in to claw at the walls of your hideout. “Come on, I wanna play a little before we bring you in!”

Just as he finishes saying that, he gives a strange choked noise and yanks his arm out of the hole, clutching at his head. You don’t question it, taking the opportunity to make a break for it. You hear a frustrated snarl behind you, and the sound of heavy footsteps quickly follows.

You don’t stick around to find out what happened.

You’re not sure which direction you’re going anymore, your sense of direction completely messed up now that you’re seeing Teyvat in person. As a result you’re not paying attention to where you’re going, which is a nice way to say you Wile E Coyote’d yourself straight off a cliff.

You let out an undignified shriek, limbs flailing as you plummet down toward the frothing ocean below. Is it better to drown than to be stabbed, you wonder? You glance over your shoulder and watch in dread as Childe leaps down after you, arms outstretched. You close your eyes, and pray it will be fast.

---

You open your eyes one at a time, mostly surprised you’re still alive to do so. You take quick stock of yourself, and find that you miraculously still have all your limbs and belongings. Next, you look around for-

There he is, sitting on a rock behind you. Childe watches in silence as you check yourself over, which you think is a little bit creepy. You wave hesitantly, offering a wonky smile.

“Your Grace,” a deep, raspy voice emits from Foul Legacy, definitely not Childe’s.

A little stupidly, you look around and behind yourself, before turning back to Foul Legacy and pointing at your own chest. The creature nods.

“We have been waiting.” it rumbles, standing up and walking toward you. It’s much more imposing now that you have a good look at it, and you shrink back instinctively. “Be not afraid, Your Grace. The people of Teyvat are ignorant of your status, but the Dark knows.”

“What… what does that mean?” you squeak as Foul Legacy finally stops in front of you, talons reaching up to gently caress your face. You freeze, unable to will yourself to move when you’re so close to getting your head sliced off.

“You are the true Creator,” Foul Legacy says, surprisingly patient. “It is difficult to tell, as your divine presence is faint, but those who know will recognize it immediately.”

The creature reaches into your pocket with its thumb and forefinger, pulling out your dead phone. It gives the phone to you, so you take it mutely. You watch as Foul Legacy activates Childe’s electro Delusion, tapping the black screen with one claw.

Immediately, your phone blinks to life.

“Woah! That’s useful,” you gasp, unable to help your surprise.

“Your divine focus, Your Grace,” Foul Legacy nods. At its encouragement, you open up the lockscreen.

It loads into the Genshin Impact game immediately, and the first thing you notice is the plethora of new buttons available to you. You look up at Foul Legacy curiously.

“Teyvat is yours to command,” it states, then stiffens and flexes its hands. “I cannot hold him at bay for much longer, this is where I take my leave.”

‘He’ must be Childe, trapped inside the living armor of Foul Legacy. Internally, you wince at how lowkey degrading that must be. You wave as Foul Legacy bounds up the cliff, taking Childe somewhere far away from you.

Once the creature is gone, you open your phone once more and stare at the new UI. Well, you think, might as well give it a shot.

Your thumb presses down on a button.

----- ⚘ -----

Memento Mori

Many people question how Tighnari can stand to be so close to you. He, who’s study in biology brought him into the light, into an affinity with all things life. Meanwhile you, who studied the same Amurta major as he did, delved into the field of sickness and decay and death.

You chuckle and close the icebox, letting the body of a departed grandmother rest before it is her time to be returned to the earth. As one of Sumeru’s few morticians, it’s your job to respect a good death, and to help the family in their time of suffering.

But there is also beauty, and life, in death. You see it every day, when people come to visit their loved ones at their gravesite. There is much love and sadness, yes, but there is blossoming and growth in it as well. They plant bushes and flowers to mark the resting places, and with each new shoot the visitors continue to grow as time passes.

Likewise, Tighnari knows that his job as a forest ranger is not just about preserving life, as much as he tries his best to keep fools on the right path. To preserve life, you must also respect death. The bodies of dead animals will feed their peers for days, and the decomposition of fallen trees will nourish the soil for years to come.

People don’t know how you and Tighnari can coexist so well, and it’s because they don’t realize that the two of you are each other’s perfect mirror. You balance each other out; where Tighnari is strict and hotheaded, you are patient and soothing. When Tighnari laments the decline of a species, you are the one who brings him the skull of their ancestors to show him that these creatures have come a long way and will persist under his care.

When the two of you come home after a long day apart, you share stories and gripes about your daily work, smushed together on your too-small couch and watching over Collei as she studies her letters.

“I had to stop a would-be explorer from wandering into the Withering zone again,” Tighnari sighs, his ear flicking down to brush the top of your head.

“Unfortunate,” you muse. “I’m assuming you succeeded, given you’re in a relatively good mood.”

“Oh, of course,” he waves his hand at the notion. “No thanks to the idiot’s lack of compass, or common sense. How about you? You are terribly lucky you don’t have to suffer fools the same way I do.”

“A grandfather who passed last week was visited today,” you tell him. “His family requested that he be cremated, and have given me a pouch of his late wife’s ashes to send with him on his final journey.”

“That’s very kind of them,” Tighnari replies, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. Despite your love and respect for your job, and how many requests and wishes you fulfilled, there is always a vague sense of melancholy that follows you home.

“His granddaughter will be enrolled in school this year,” you continue, holding his hand in yours. “Her father said she seems to take an interest in her grandfather’s old books. She likes the pictures.”

“The cycle keeps moving,” Tighnari nods. The two of you are distracted as Collei exclaims in joy, leaping up from where she’s sitting on the floor (and isn’t that amazing? She regains a bit of her strength every day) running to you to show you the perfect score she’d gotten from her homework.

Yes, many people question how Tighnari can stand to be so close to you, but who else besides you two can perfectly balance life and death?

[coldshrugs]

tiebreaker

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau setting: modern AU rating: explicit - there are a few mature scenes near the end word count: 6.1k

It's strange to be home.

Stranger still to try to define where exactly home is now that Io has two. Two beds, two sets of friends, two time zones to keep up with… Home is supposed to be a place, or, if she allows the geography to have a softer edge, a series of places and the routines formed around them. The familiar haunts one returns to again and again, seeking the comfort of nostalgia.

Three months didn't feel that long while she lived them; the new place is nice, the people are great, and she loves her work. She calls it home when she is there.

But is it? Home used to hold her mother's voice, her siblings' laughter, her father's snoring. She can't go back to any of those things. 'Home' died six years ago, and Io has been trying to claw back some essence of it ever since.

There was only one thing she was sure she missed from this place, one person. But then she stood in the kitchen with the sunset light painting half the cabinets in late summer's orange, and one thing turned into everything. Puzzle pieces of scent and sight that make her long for more of them tomorrow and every day after—the pack of cigarettes on the already open window to their fire escape; the knowledge that she can hide away in the safety of her room, surrounded by all her favorite things, if the inevitable tide of her anxiety rises high enough to drown her; and especially the smell of Estinien—of both of them—burrowed bone-deep into every room.

But the apartment is not exactly as it was when she left. It's cleaner. The blankets on the couch are neatly folded. There are no dishes in the sink. Not a shred of old mail on the table by the door. The only object even slightly out of place is one of the red plastic chairs at the small table between the kitchen and living room, stolen from their former support group when they aged out.

It's almost uncanny, before she remembers he cleans when he's stressed…

Hm.

They haven't talked about the kiss.

They haven't talked about much of anything so far.

Not when Estinien picked her up from the airport. Not back in their apartment as they readied for Y'shotla’s birthday party. Not even when they stepped out of their rooms, facing each other in the mirrored doorways, and his eyes blew wide at the sight of her dressed in the simple sundress and sneakers.

"You, uh, look really nice," he'd said. Straight forward tone and broad shoulders drawn up to his full height. But he didn't say anything else, so maybe they're leaving it where it lies.

Io has learned to live with this contactless friction. An ever-present static at the boundary of what they mean to each other. Sometimes, the hum is so quiet that she swears she is over him. Then there are times like now, in the back of their Uber, when the unspoken question churns in the space between them, fuzzy and electric, and Io reminds herself that even a hum is noise.

She has to break the ice.

"How's work going? How are the kids this year?"

"It's alright. A ton of rebellious little shits in my classes this semester, especially this set of twins."

"Are you allowed to call them that?"

It takes them a moment to find their footing, but then they can't seem to stop—

"Only when I like them. How's it going with your roommates—what are their names again?"

"Hien and Yugiri. They're sweet. Fun to hang out with. They're tidiness sticklers though, so that's kind of killing me."

"Did you watch that show I said you'd like?"

"Did you remember to water my plants?"

—And on and on until she whispers:

"I miss you. You thought I wouldn't."

Silence again, besides the pop song quietly spilling from the speakers. The driver's eyes flash in the rearview mirror before they turn the volume up, like some sound-based privacy curtain, but that is where it ends. Estinien turns his gaze to the darkening skyline around them, lips drawn up at the corner facing her.

It's hard to be disappointed when simply sitting beside him again is a comfort.

Sure, they text daily, but there is no replacement for his deadpan cadence or playfully disgruntled tone. No emoji could substitute the curves of his smiles, from the small and shy ones he tries to hide (the kind he wears now, squeezing at her heart) to the wide ones that come with an open-mouth laugh—

Her thoughts spin to the kiss. Nervous and unfinished, broken too soon because their drunk friends apparently cannot resist throwing glass bottles at the call of "beer me!" That's why she didn't get to kiss him longer, not that it would matter in the long run.

Estinien doesn't do long distance.

He told Vic as much. He cared about Vic. They dated long enough for it to matter, but in the end, Vic moved hours away, and Estinien decided they should break things off. And despite what anyone says about how he might feel about her, she's stationed on the other side of the country for the next nine months.

But he kissed her back. Oh, the way he kissed her back…

She shoots him the occasional furtive glance while his attention is elsewhere, and god, he looks good. Loose, perfectly messy hair hangs past his shoulders and softens the more severe angles of his face. His t-shirt wrinkles against the line of his well-worn jeans. Hems she has long dreamed of running her hands under…

Io's thick swallow is loud in her ears (she hopes he didn't hear it, too), and her fingers twitch on the leather seat between them. That does make a sound. A little scratch.

Estinien slides his hand across the seat, and—the static sizzles and snaps—his fingers curl into hers. He doesn't look away from the window, but he squeezes.

Her heartbeat almost hurts. She squeezes back.

Another 10 minutes and they pull up to the usual watering hole, one of those extensions of home, Redbills.

He lets go as they climb out of the car on his side, deciding to shove both his hands into his pockets. Cool.

(He's still wearing that little smile as they walk inside.)

Now, this is a place that's frozen in time. Dim light punched through with neon, an out-of-place song being played too loud, ratty stools lining the bar, and well-kept pool tables dotting the back wall. And that's to say nothing of the people.

Her friends (the first set, the ones as close as family) are scattered around the bar. Lucia and Thancred are already locked in a game of pool, and there's real money on the corner of the table. G'raha carries two colorful cocktails to a standing table, where he and Urianger are chatting with Krile, on her tall barstool, of course. Aymeric is at the bar, laughing loudly with Leofard, and Leo's pouring a massive round of shots.

Estinien sways awkwardly on the spot before turning to Io. He jerks his head in Aymeric’s direction, letting her know where he'll be, before walking backward toward him. He's gone for now, then.

Yep, very cool.

Tataru (already flushed a deep shade of pink) gestures chaotically as she rambles to the birthday girl sitting at the end of the bar. Shtola is nodding along without looking, one arm thrown over the back of her metal stool tied with black and purple balloons speckled with glitter. Her other hand holds an e-reader and, holy shit, she is deeply engrossed in a book at her own party.

In fact, she only looks up when her glasses begin to slide down her nose, and that's when her pale eyes fall on Io. She is up in a flash. "You came!"

Shtola isn't one for lengthy displays. The hug is brief, but she wraps her arms tightly around Io and allows her to return it fully before pulling away.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it," Io says. They walk arm in arm towards her decorated seat, where Tataru's tipsy little squeak alerts everyone else to her arrival, and then the party begins.

The night happens in a rush. A round of shots as they sing happy birthday, followed by a round of beers on the house because Io is back in town. She isn't allowed to be a wallflower tonight, tugged from huddle to huddle to share stories of her new orchestra gig or listen to someone else's big news that happened to slip through the cracks of the group chat.

Despite the company and constant meandering around the room, his static prickles on the back of her neck. Estinien hovers in the margins. Much like his blind reach for her hand in the car, she doesn't need to see him to know he's around. It is a phantom sensation, some missing part of her that she swears she can move if only she tries hard enough.

A quick glance to the side and she finds him effortlessly. He leans against the wall, speaking with Ayms in hushed voices. Estinien's eyes cut a sharp path to her, too; Aymeric's gaze follows, and a deviously knowing smile spreads across his face. Io purses her lips politely and smiles back, lifting her hand to wave. Aymeric waves back as he leans to whisper something to Estinien, who shakes his head and takes a long swallow from his beer. His posture tenses.

He pushes off the wall and walks outside, placing his empty bottle on the bar as he goes.

"Hold that thought," Io says as she breaks away from Thancred. "Just grabbing some air."

He's even easier to find on the sidewalk. A lone figure with his shoulder pressed into the brick, head tilted skyward. He's facing the door, as if he's waiting for someone.

"What's wrong?" Io takes a cautious step toward him, fighting the pull to go to him immediately

He shrugs but doesn't look at her. His brows knot, and she can't name the look he wears. It's frustrating not knowing what he's feeling. Disappointment? Defeat? Finally, he asks, "We're just not going to talk about it?"

Oh.

"Estinien, you've been distant most of the day, except for a compliment and holding my hand in the car… I didn't think you wanted to talk about it."

And that makes him look. His head rolls in her direction, hair bunched against the wall and his stare burning through her. "Be serious. Of course I want to. I just… don't know how to start."

"Neither do I." Io inhales and lets the warm night air soothe her nerves. Here she fucking goes. "We kissed. Barely—"

"'Barely.'" The word leaves him in a little huff of incensed laughter. He shakes his head.

"—And it was wrong to leave that up in the air for so long, but I guess it's easier not to know? Maybe it's, I don't know, kinder to slip back into how we were before that. If that's what you want."

"Kinder? Fuck off." Compared to his previous interruption, his tone has cooled, and his expression softened. He's not actually mad. If anything, he seems confused that he's being asked what he wants, as if it's obvious. "Did you mean what you said that night I called you?"

She moves to his side, still careful, still slow. But it's for her own benefit now. What on earth is he talking about?

He asked to call her a couple of weeks ago, the first time that's happened since she's been away. They talked through the night, and there was something close about it, closer than usual. The end of the conversation is fuzzy. She only remembers waking up with her phone pressed to her cheek.

Her shoulder meets the wall, mirroring his lean from a foot away. "...What did I say?"

"You love me." He spits it out quickly and gives no further explanation.

But it doesn't need any, does it? It's a simple yes or no. And it's now that she realizes Alberic—and everyone else—was right: he needs her to go first. He can't move until she does.

"Yeah…" Io shifts her weight against the brick, dragging her gaze from the grime-covered sidewalk to his gray eyes shining softly in the night. He deserves that, because she loves him. "I meant it. But listen, I'm not expecting anything. My job alone makes me a walking deal-breaker so—"

A few people stumble out of the bar, cackling loudly, and they both look to make sure it's no one they know. Just a group of strangers, so their attention refocuses. Io takes another breath, but Estinien speaks first.

"Since you left, I only sit in your chair." The streetlight overhead harshes the shadows falling across his face, but it does not obscure the reddening tips of his ears. "It felt stupid at first. For a while, I pretended it wasn't a conscious thing. Just a convenient one; it's closer to the door or whatever. But it's a choice, I realize that now… I think I've been keeping myself from it since you wrote on them. At some point, I couldn't tell the difference. But that became a choice, too."

It trails off a bit as he loses his own thread, but Io isn't lost. No, it makes perfect sense. This is him explaining every moment passed between them in the half-decade they've shared.

"You're rambling." She tries not to laugh. It's not funny. It's just what he does; he doesn't know what to say, so he says more than he should, and the familiar habit fills her chest with a fluttering warmth. His gaze moves to her smile. "I mean, you don't have to stop. I like when you get going."

She marvels at the way his eyes roll, annoyed and amused all at once. How he tries to be just one plain thing but can't help being more than that.

"The point is, I only sit in your chair."

Estinien's hands leave his pockets. She thinks he might be reaching for his cigarettes. She could use one, too. But they shoot towards her instead, his fingers wrapping into the embroidered edges of her jacket. He holds her like that, thumbs tracing the fabric while his eyes dart across her face, softening by the second. They dilate to a ring of dark silver.

Io reminds herself to breathe.

He pulls her closer.

Closer than that.

"I love you. I don't know how long it's been, just that I do." And he waits, all quickened breath and pleading eyes silently asking her to say it again.

"I love you too."

His hands wind around her, shifting her across the final gap between them, chest to warm chest. When Io lifts her hands to his face, his heartbeat gives him away. Pressed close like this, she feels the echo of every agonizing thump. His darkened eyes flash to her lips.

He moves.

They are careful at first, almost precious about it. But careful gives way to something else, just like it started to three months ago on the fire escape. His softness grows urgent, the kind of thing that begs to become another, deeper kiss. Io waits for the shoe to drop, the glass to shatter, but it doesn't come. Estinien's hands travel to the small of her back, one moves under her jacket, fingers skimming between the straps tying the back of her dress, and there is no interruption this time.

Every thought, every dream she's had about this does not compare to the way his lips seem to drag hers with him as he pulls back. His breathless whisper falls into the space between them.

"Should we get out of here, just go home? I just want to be with you tonight."

Io nods against his forehead, maybe too eagerly, but his smile is worth it. "Yeah, um, just let me say bye to everyone first. I hate to bail, but the party isn't the only reason I'm here."

He releases her as a smug grin pulls new shadows across his face. When they re-enter together, Aymeric approaches from the bar.

"You two were gone for a while." His words are ripe with accusation. Io shifts her weight and pulls her jacket closed, hoping he doesn't notice how rumpled it is.

Estinien leans against the wall by the entrance, looking as casual as ever. "And we're leaving again. Are you meeting everyone for breakfast tomorrow?"

Aymeric balks, "First of all, it's brunch, not breakfast; we're drinking again. Second, yes, I'll be there."

"Then we'll see you there."

"Wait, why are you leaving?"

Io takes the opportunity to slip away and find Y'shtola, who is once again seated at the bar, talking to Leo over the largest fishbowl of sangria she's ever seen. It's half-empty.

She slides into the seat next to her. "Hey… please don't kill me."

Shtola squints in Io's direction with surprisingly clear eyes. There is a silent question in them.

"Can I be here for this?" Leo props an elbow on the bar as if that might bolster his chances.

"No," they say in unison, refusing to glance his way.

"Fine," he says, no worse for wear. "I'm taking five, I need to piss anyway."

Shtola takes a deep sip of her drink until he's in the back. "Let me guess: you've decided to leave your best friend's birthday in the loud, crowded bar when we've been here less than two hours? Io, don't think I didn't expect that."

Io might be offended if there were any malice in the words, but Y'shtola brought her fucking kindle. She's probably planning her own escape soon.

"I'm awful, I'm sorry—" She throws her gaze over her shoulder and Shtola's head turns too. Estinien is still waiting by the door with Aymeric, but he's focused intently on her. "—but there's been a development…"

Bubbles sputter in her drink and she comes away coughing. "Are you serious? Finally? Not the half-assed, 'this is a goodbye forever, I'm giving up on you' kiss?"

"Finally." Her grin is embarrassing, but if anyone knows how long she's held out for this moment, it's Shtola. "Like, no bullshit, for real. Feelings talk and all, so I… really need to go."

Shtola shakes her head, one hand waving Io off the barstool and towards the exit. "No, no, breaking the pattern of platonic codependency and making a new, probably worse pattern is the perfect birthday gift. For the love of god, text me and let me know what happens."

"See you tomorrow." Io squeezes in one more hug and snags a sip of her drink before all but running for the door.

She gives Aymeric a little wave and a smile before passing through the door with Estinien's hand on her back again. A car is already waiting, and after they clamber inside, he doesn't cease his contact. An arm as far around her as he can manage, his fingers grazing her neck, and he can't take his eyes off her.

It doesn't matter that this is all the drive will allow. Desire sparks along her skin, originating from his touch and simmering between them, silent but shameless. The ride feels like an eternity.

When they're finally outside their building, the car is barely out of view before Estinien kisses her again. He walks them backward to the alcove housing the locked glass doors and the keypad. She laughs against his lips as she struggles to reach the buttons. He moves them closer. The first attempt lights the unit in red.

They'll get locked out at this rate.

Io pulls free of his lips with a hummed whine so she can see what she's doing. He moves to her cheek instead, then her jaw… Another red try.

"Estinien," she breathes.

His throaty laugh vibrates against her skin. "You've got it."

Fuck it. If this doesn't work, they can break their necks on the fire escape. 7-9-1-3-5. It blinks green, and the locked doors click open.

They only waste a little time in the stairwell, a quick kiss every other landing or so, when one can't resist grabbing the other, softly passing laughter between mouths before running up the next flight. It doesn't feel real. It lasts all the way to their door.

They go inside, hand in hand, and this is when it sets in.

Sure, it's a bit too clean, but the only new thing here is them. They kick off their shoes and navigate the path to Estinien's room in the dark, carefully dodging jutting furniture corners and stepping over the edges of rugs as their eyes adjust to the lack of light. A strange muscle memory when the context of the journey is so different.

In his room, Io pulls the chain on his bedside lamp, flooding the space with soft, warm light. She knows his room; the scattered sports and music posters, his baseball trophies and metals, and the long unused skateboard. His bed sits in the center of the far wall, flanked by a table on each side; one holds the lamp she just turned on, and the other is where his keys, wallet, and phone usually go. She's had to grab them more than once as they rushed out of this place.

"Is that okay?" she asks.

He nods, pulling her in again, prying her jacket off. It falls to the floor in a crumpled heap as his hands trail back up her arms. One settles lightly against the back of her neck. She runs a shaking hand over his stomach until it rests on his chest.

He inhales, forehead falling to hers for the second time tonight. "I'm kind of nervous."

"Me too." She swallows, trying to keep her voice even. "It feels silly, right?"

"Yeah." Estinien's rumbled laugh sounds in the quiet. "The reason I shouldn't be is the reason I am."

Io pulls her head away, asking why with furrowed brows.

"Because it's you."

What steals her breath seems to give his confidence a second wind. He tugs a strap off her shoulder and presses a kiss to the freckled skin beneath, lips moving slowly, reverently, until her head tips back and her arms snake around his waist. He catches the hem of the dress, looking to Io briefly for approval, lifting it over her head after she nods.

He pauses, drinking in the sight of her standing in his most private space, wearing only her underwear, and for a second Io wonders if his drinks have caught up with him.

He pulls his own shirt off, ruffling his hair in the process. His skin catches the lamplight on one side and moonlight on the other. His beauty is uncomplicated, as direct as he is, but right now it threatens to overwhelm her. Io reaches for him, runs her hands across soft muscle and the small, knotted scar on his left shoulder.

She leans forward, brushing her lips over his, almost content to feel him breathing against them and nothing more. Almost. Estinien's knuckles skim her waist, ghost over the side of her breast, across her back, where his hold solidifies before tipping them onto the bed.

Each touch speaks the assurance they've never needed to voice—I'll take care of you, I'm the one who always takes care of you. This is not so different, not when they get down to it. Estinien drags his lips across her throat and that is just as intimate as his texts reminding her to take her anxiety medication; Io's hands slipping beneath his waistband are the same hands that spread his favorite blanket over him when he falls asleep on their couch. "I made you coffee" shares DNA with "please kiss me again", and both are prerequisites to the soft grip of his hand under her chin, leading her mouth to his.

What's one more way to love each other?

Between needy touches and heated moans, they peel away the last of their layers. There is nothing else they can bare.

Estinien moves down her body, nose trailing against her skin, stopping along the way to place soft, searing kisses to places that certainly never existed before now. The tip of her collarbone, the underside of her breasts, the sensitive skin over her ribs, and she shivers as he brings each one to life in the soft heat of his mouth. His hands follow, creating a pattern of kiss and caress, and Io is never without some part of him in contact with her skin.

He settles between her legs, and she feels the hot rush of his breath, coming just that much faster as he anticipates the next action. Io can hardly bear to look at him—flushed cheek pressed against her thigh and his eyes growing darker when she bites her lip—but she cannot look away.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Estinien kisses her thigh, then whispers low in a voice Io doesn't recognize, "Do you want me to?"

His fingers trace a tantalizing pattern on her leg as he stares up at her, waiting for the answer.

How can she tell him what he's doing to her before he even begins? "Please" is the only word she can articulate as she runs a hand through his hair, gently urging him to go on. "Please."

He dips his head, and words don't matter. She couldn't form them if she tried. Her eyes squeeze shut as she falls against the pillow. There is only shapeless sound, her body tense and twisting, the combination of her slick heat and his mouth,

               his mouth,

                                 his mouth.

She's at the edge before she knows it, and the feel of his lips changes, lightens, as he pushes her over. He's smiling—pleased with himself, pleased at her reaction. It remains in place as he lifts himself and kisses his way back to her lips.

Estinien covers her, skin to skin, and Io pulls away from his lips just to look at him for a moment. His silver hair catching bits of the city lights through the window. The shine of her still worn on his lips. Io cups his cheek and sweeps her thumb across them, observing the way they yield for even this touch. His blush spreads to the tips of his ears, down his neck.

"I feel so stupid. You've been looking at me that way for years, and I…" The thought hangs between them: 'What if?' He shakes his head above her, his hair grazing her shoulders.

"Yeah," Io whispers. "But you've been looking at me too. I wasn't in a rush."

She smiles into the next kiss, feels his own spread against her lips. Of all the things they've done tonight, the things they will do, this is the one she wants to keep most. She lets it linger, lets him deepen it when he's ready, asking for more when his tongue slides over hers and he shifts between her thighs.

Io stifles a moan and presses her hands into his back. She needs him closer.

One more shift, and they gasp through a broken kiss. There is only a second of pause, a quick word to check in, then Estinien drives forward again. They find a rhythm. Io moves with him. His breathing grows ragged and shallow, his voice is a tight rasp as he curses or mutters her name into the crook of her neck.

He leans back, resting on his knees, lifting Io with him so she sits on his angled lap. "I wanna see you like this," he says in a shredded whisper. "I keep thinking about it."

It's easy to give him what he wants when he looks at her like this, when he asks for her like he needs her. Io works her hips against him while Estinien does his best to explore, to touch, but his focus shatters in a guttural rumble as he pulls free and guides their fall back to the bed.

There is breath to catch and mess to clean. They alternate trips to the bathroom, then settle into his bed in a yawning heap.

They stay close afterward, liking the way their limbs have tangled and the heaviness of his body relaxing against hers. Io runs her fingers through his hair, unwilling to stop touching him like this now that she has no reason to hold back, and relishes the soft breath washing over her chest. Estinien is still, besides the occasional lazy roll of his head, to kiss her where he can. From the opposite side of the bed, the lamp's glow brightens his edges, the sharp line of his jaw, his nose, and his lips gently pulled into the sweetest smile Io's ever seen him wear.

She could watch him like this forever.

The city doesn't slow around them. Flashes of sound and color leak into the dim room, painting the wall in shifting light that disappears between drowsy blinks. Io wonders how all those passersby in taxis and on the street can go on like before, unaware a faultline has moved under their feet. Don't they know? Didn't they feel it?

The quiet breaks abruptly.

"Io, I'm not,"—his rough voice wavers. He pauses. She can almost see him turning over the words in his mind—"very romantic, if I'm honest, but I could be good to you."

His head on her chest is the only thing keeping her in orbit.

"You've always been good to me. If you're asking me for something…"

"I'm asking."

"You just wanna hear me say it?" And she laughs at his sleepy little nod, heartsick at the way he looks up at her, pupils wide even with their desire temporarily quenched. He wants more than light. She gives it to him. She'd give him anything. "Then yeah, I want to be with you, if you're willing to deal with the distance."

"I don't mind the distance if it's with you." His eyes close, his breathing deepens. She holds him like that until sleep takes her, too.

Io wakes slowly. The room is still gray and dark, with the exception of a single line of early sunlight fighting its way through his blackout curtains. It falls across her side of the bed, a reminder that something exists beyond the bliss of being tucked into this specific set of sheets.

Estinien is already awake. His hand moves down her side, warm and soothing, and then makes the return journey upward, over and over, until she half-rolls to see his face.

"Hey," his voice is even more rough than usual, but it's sweeter, too. He lifts onto his arm, smiling down at her. His messy hair hangs in his eyes. Witnessing this side of him… it always felt so out of reach.

"Hi," she whispers back, adjusting the sheet so there's no barrier between them. "Why are you awake?"

His knuckles roll over her neck, up to her cheek. "Just wanted to look at you. You're all I can think about, and now you're here so… is that weird?"

Io shakes her head against his pillow. "I don't think it's weird. I think I'd do the same."

"Good." He leans in, but pauses before their lips meet. "Wouldn't stop me if it was."

He kisses her slowly, pulls her back flush to his chest so he can touch her. The urgency and nerves of last night are gone. His hands move, unhurried, over the twist of her body, more interested in coaxing little sounds of need from her while her voice still wears shades of sleep. When he fills her this time, his thrusts are soft, almost lazy. And when he's finished, Estinien tells her he loves her again.

She will never tire of hearing it.

They are late to brunch. It's a wonder they show up at all.

No comments when they stroll to the table hand in hand, or when Estinien throws his arm around Io's chair, and not even when she leans into him to rest her head against his cheek after the third mimosa. This is how it should've been all along. They were the only people blocking the way.

The day passes in patches of sunlight and bright laughter, that of their friends and, later on, just theirs. They walk their favorite paths and visit the places Io missed most. The park on the way to her former library job, the library itself, the bakery with specialty cupcakes, and the taco joint she's been craving. But he is a magnet for her hands and, in truth, the place she misses most is their apartment…

They make good use of the short time. No room is too sacred, no surface too precious, until they make it so. By the end of the weekend, they have a pretty good handle on what works. Estinien is a quick study; he remembers what makes her smile, what causes a gasp or a moan.

They learn other things too.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," Io requests on that final evening.

Estinien lies on his back, head angled toward the tv that drones quietly in front of them. He's not watching; his eyes are half closed and his hand tangles in her hair. It's the most focus he can spare right now.

"I thought it was called 'duck tape' for too long. Aymeric pulled me aside in freshman year. Embarrassing as fuck," he says. "Your turn."

Io commits to being a quiet observer, biting back the giggle in the back of her throat.

She lies across his waist with one arm folded under her chin. Her fingers skate over his torso, leaving little trails of puckered skin in their wake. She pockets every tiny reaction (the soft hitch in his breath at a touch near the lower rungs of his ribs, or barely audible sigh when she passes just below his navel), but these are the only interruptions to the otherwise steady rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm allergic to bee stings."

"What?"

"Yeah, I should've mentioned it before," she says. "You're my emergency contact, so you should know what might take me out."

He laughs, a full belly laugh that shakes both of them on the couch. The sound digs into the marrow of her bones. It can't replace the voices she misses, but she can make more space for him in the part of her heart that longs to hear them.

The quiet after his laughter is just as tender, both of them content with this simple closeness.

"I don't want you to go," he says after some time. "One more day."

"Estinien, my flight—"

"Fuck your flight." His drowsy smile is tempting. "Stay with me."

She says no by pressing her lips against the soft, fuzzy patch of skin beneath his navel, and his exhale barely restrains a shudder. Does she truly do this to him so easily?

"Stay," Estinien repeats.

"You know I can't." Io kisses him again, shifting her head, preparing to focus her attention a little lower…

A long exhale stutters out of him. "I know."

She tugs on the hem of his boxers and he lifts his hips to make it easier for her to move them down his thighs. Io bites her lip at the sight of him, his ready willingness to share himself with her, the way he wants her. She brushes her lips against his length.

"I can come back next month." She trades lips for tongue, adores the way his head rolls back against the sofa. "We'll talk every day, like we always do."

"Next month," he whispers as she takes him into her mouth. His voice strains. "Only nine more to go."

It's noon on Monday when they leave for the airport.

Estinien drives them. Io takes in the view from the passenger seat, branding the feel of his hand on her knee into her mind. And then the pressure of his arms around her when he pulls her back for another hug, the nervous blush when he kisses her openly at the gate. His straight-backed reassurance of "I love you. Come home soon."

Home can be a place, as simple as four walls, or the scent of minty body wash, the voices that soothe just by proximity, and it can be a shared bad habit. The picturesque scenes of a small and beautiful life. Home can be the boy you watch grow into a man, the friend you wait for until you don't care about the waiting, and the partner stoking butterflies or comfort with a look. Home isn't home the first time—it demands a return.

"I will. I'll be back before you know it. And I love you too."

Home requires memory.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Across The Darkened Room {6}

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader || Modern AU Summary: You comfort Aemond in the aftermath of what you learned of his past and ease the burden of his conscience. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, nudity, mentions of blood, emotional trauma WC: 2.4k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven ||

After you drove Aemond back to his home, he had taken your hand and silently asked you to stay the night. You could not abandon him, especially when you looked in his eye and saw a shadow of the man you had come to know. So you had followed him to bed and wrapped him in your arms. 

You tried to stay awake until Aemond was asleep but you were drained both physically and emotionally from the long evening. You imagined he was feeling the same if the dark circles that ringed his eyes were anything to attest to. Exhaustion won as you drifted off half reclined upon a pile of pillows with Aemond’s head on your chest and his moonlit hair cascading over your skin. 

Watery grey light seeped through the curtains when you woke and reached for your phone. A groan worked its way up your throat as you realised it had only been an hour since you had crawled into bed. You rolled over in search of Aemond’s warmth only to find his side of the bed empty and cold.

The night air was cold but the underfloor heating was warm against the soles of your feet as you wrapped the sheet around you and went in search of him. The hall was dark when you stepped out of his bedroom but a slither of light escaped beneath a door at the far end. Your brows pinched at the sound of a violin drifting down the hallway, a slow sorrowful melody that was nothing like the pieces he had used to enhance your senses in the playroom. 

Aemond had enjoyed introducing you to the works of Vivaldi and Bach, though he preferred the dramatic build and crescendo of Vivaldi’s compositions more. You hadn’t listened to enough of the music to know what it was he was playing, or if it was even one of theirs at all, and after a moment you reached for the door.

You turned the handle and the music grew louder as you pushed the door open. 

Soft moonlight glowed through the huge pane of glass that filled one wall and Aemond was bathed in the light as he faced the turbulent sea beyond. The muscles of his back were tensed with ridges and valleys that shifted with each small movement and your eyes followed them until they disappeared into a pair of loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. 

Aemond’s back arched as another long note drew out and then fell silent, the violin and bow falling to his sides limply as he dropped his head. His face was hidden from your view as his hair swung forward like curtains ending his performance and you froze, unsure of how he would feel about you seeing the vulnerable state you had not been invited to witness.

Your thoughts were erased as red drops of blood fell from the steel violin strings and you rushed forward at the muted thuds of them hitting the whitewashed floorboards. You carefully pulled the violin from his tight grasp and saw the four clean slices to the tips of his fingers, blood welling at each of them. 

Aemond didn’t say a word, he didn’t even seem to notice you as he stared at the whitecap waters outside.

You carefully placed the violin into the case that was open on a table before unhooking his fingers from the bow and laying it beside the violin. Aemond had not moved as he stared at the glass and you realised he was focused on his reflection, not the sea beyond. 

“Aemond,” you murmured softly as you took his bleeding hand and wrapped the sheet around it, “where is your first aid kit? I need to take care of you.”

His chest rumbled with a ‘hmmm’ and he slowly reached for your face with his unhurt hand until he cradled your cheek. “I’m meant to take care of you.”

“We can take care of each other.” His hand fell away at your words and he dropped his forehead to yours as he spoke a language you didn’t understand. “The first aid kit?”

Stirred from his murmuring, he blinked twice before he looked at the concern on your face and answered, “Garage.”

You were grateful it was somewhere you knew because you hadn’t spent a huge amount of time learning the maze of halls and rooms inside his mansion. But getting to the garage was familiar and he let you lead the way, gently tugging his hand when his steps faltered and silently encouraging him to keep going. 

The corner of the white sheet that was wrapped around his fingers was stained red and still spreading that you started to fear that he might need stitches, something that was beyond your capabilities. There was an audible sigh of relief when you opened the door to the garage and flicked the light on to the immense space. 

“Where is it, Aemond?”

The sheet fell away from your body as he moved ahead and wove through the lines of cars that filled the room, the forgotten material dragging across the floor behind him. Cool air washed over your skin and you shivered at the loss of warmth before rushing to catch up with him.

He pressed his palm to a panel on the wall and a door you hadn’t noticed before slid silently open and revealed a workshop of some sort. The walls and bench space were filled with tools and car parts but Aemond ignored them all as he pulled a red box out from beneath one bench, a white cross covering the lid. 

“I didn’t know you could work on cars,” I admitted as I took the box and pondered what car was hidden beneath the tarpaulin in the centre of the room.

“I don’t, not really,” he uttered tiredly as he leant against the bench and stared at the cover. “There’s just one car.” 

The silence was heavy but you ignored it as you opened the box and grabbed a few alcohol wipes to disinfect the cuts before wrapping a bandage around each finger. The cuts weren’t as deep as you had thought and the bleeding was already slowing but his sheet was absolutely ruined and you dumped it straight in the trash can.

You clicked the lid shut and pushed it back under the bench while Aemond continued to stare at the hidden car. Your curiosity grew with the passing moments but you wouldn’t dare ask because if your gut was right then what was hidden caused Aemond an unimaginable amount of pain.

“It’s a Bugatti,” Aemond said suddenly as he pushed off from the bench and tore the tarpaulin away. You didn’t know a lot about cars but from the size of it you knew it must have had a hugely powerful engine and the carbon grey panels were sleek and shiny. At least on one side.

You gasped as you walked around the car and found the driver's side was mangled and torn. “Is this…?”

Aemond nodded, confirming your fear, as he ran his bandaged fingers over the badge at the back and you joined him so you could read the name of the car, Vhagar. “Top of the line supercar - the only one in the world.”

His foot lashed out and he kicked the personalised number plate that read AEMOND-1-I before he turned away like it hurt him too much to look at it any longer. You wished you could take the ache away from him and the weight that the accident bore on his soul but all you could offer was an embrace as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“You don’t have to answer this, but I have to ask,” you said as you peered up from where your cheek rested on his chest. “Why do you keep it?”

“I can’t get rid of it.” He whispered as he returned the embrace and wrapped his arms around you. “I need to remember. I need the reminder of what happens when I let my anger get the better of me, of when I lose control, and why I can never let it happen again.”

“Oh Aemond,” you sniffled as tears pricked your eyes and tightened your hold on him. “I wish you could see just how much you don’t need this.”

He broke the embrace first so he could cover the car over once more before taking your hand and leading you back to his room.

The dark seemed too harsh for what had transpired two floors below and you opened the curtains wide so that the moonlight eased the shadows. The seas were still rough but the sounds of their crashing upon the shore were ambient in the background as you lay tucked in Aemond’s arms, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“Thank you for sharing your past with me, I know it mustn’t have been easy.”

Aemond’s fingers danced along your spine soothingly as he stared at the sea. “No one outside of our family knows what really happened. I thought I would never be able to talk about it, or that if I did I would be deemed a monster. But, you’re unlike anyone I have ever met, Sweeetpea, I knew you were different from the moment I laid my eye on you. I can be myself with you, without judgement. You make me feel safe.”

“I’m no therapist, but I think you need to talk about it more. It is obvious this has been weighing heavily on your shoulders for years but it was an accident, Aemond.” You stroked the soft hairs on his chest and followed the silver trail to his abs. “Whenever you are ready I will listen, without judgement, because you are safe with me.”

–

It was like deja vu waking up to find Aemond’s side of the bed empty but this time you could hear his voice carrying on the warm breeze that drifted in from the balcony. He looked like a god with his hair billowing behind him and those sweatpants hanging so dangerously low on his hips. You could happily watch him doing any mundane activity and it would still make your heart beat out of your chest. 

He noticed you were awake as he paced back across the balcony and an immediate smile brightened his face before he made his goodbyes and ended the phone call. 

“Morning, Sweetpea,” he greeted with a kiss as he caged you in his arms. 

“You look…” you weren’t sure what the exact word was that you were looking for, only that he looked lighter than he did the night before, “rested.” 

His lips pulled into a smile and he dipped his head shyly as he murmured, “I feel better than I have in a long time.” The doorbell suddenly rang and the smile quickly faded as he hesitantly pulled back to sit up and run his hand through his hair. “Can you come with me to get that?”

“Of course.”

You were a little confused as you quickly threw on some clothes that were kept in Aemond’s wardrobe and followed him down the stairs to the front door. Your confusion only grew when he opened it and led one of the two strangers to the garage before hitting the remote to open the doors up. 

“You sure about this, sir?” the man with a clipboard and pen asked as he handed them over to Aemond.

Aemond looked at you and took a deep breath before signing his name at the bottom of the form and hanging it back. “Absolutely, I don’t need it anymore.”

A loud beeping came from a truck that was parked on the driveway and the other man who had been at the door started to reverse it up to the garage and unravel a large winch. “What a waste,” he muttered under his breath as he connected it to the back of the Bugatti Vhagar and began towing the supercar onto the flat back of the tow truck.

“Aemond,” you gasped, too stunned to continue as he stepped up behind you and curled his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I didn’t sleep last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said and you were right.” His lips teased your nape with gentle kisses as he made his way to your other ear. “I don’t need the car to remind me to stay in control. I have you and I never want to lose you or scare you away. Everytime I look into your eyes it will serve as a reminder to be better, because I never want to see you flinch from me again.”

In all honesty you had forgotten the rough sex in the wine cellar and you couldn’t even feel the bruises that probably spotted your back but you recalled how for a moment he had lost himself. It was only a moment but for him it was another misstep on the narrow path he set for himself. 

You turned in his arms and tilted your head in contemplation as you enjoyed the sharp angles of his jawline and the high cheekbones that would make a model envious. “Was it my favourite sexcapade? No, it doesn’t even make the top ten. But did I say dracarys? No, Aemond, because it wasn’t more than I could handle. You controlled yourself and I know that if I said dracarys you would have stopped in an instant because I trust you. I. Trust. You.”

His shuddering breath of relief was drowned out by the truck starting again and you turned to see the grey beast shimmering in the sunlight as it was taken away. 

When it disappeared from sight the gates swung closed and Aemond led you back inside to the central staircase. You stepped up but you hand caught and you frowned as Aemond stood at the stairs that led down.

“You haven’t slept all night, you should go to bed,” you said as you looked up the pillar to where the master bedroom awaited.

“Oh, Sweetpea,” he said with a dark chuckle that ignited fire in your veins, “it’s cute when you think you can give me orders.”

A shiver rolled down your spine with a pleasant tingle and your chin dipped in obedience before you followed him down the stairs to the playroom that had been built in the basement. He stopped at the door with his key in hand and looked over his shoulder to see you waiting meekly with your hands at your side completely at ease with him as he took control once again.

He nodded to himself after a moment, knowing you would be his compass and guide him back if he were to get lost. “I trust you too.”

Click here for part seven.

Taglist: @scxrletwitches , @shelbyteller , @girl-with-an-orange-cat , @crispmarshmallow , @itsemy01 , @boofy1998 , @wondergal2001 , @percyjacksonspeen , @ebaylee422 , @namoreno , @the-jess-life , @undeniableadrenaline , @1950schick , @dothrckis , @julczimozart , @sophiexoxsblog , @liathelioness , @natashaxhellenic , @caramelcandescence , @wooya1224 , @eralen , @thewew , @meggiemay82 , @leahjean , @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @lj127 , @arcielee , @iiamthehybrid , @joliettes , @ohitsthemaster , @lilostif16 , @malfoytargaryen

[sweetestofchaos]

Blackthorn Modern Day Teaser | K.NJ

summary - Welcome to Kim's Flowers & Apothecary! Did you need a bouquet or spell today?

pairings - namjoon x jungkook

warnings - sol, mentions of a past life, crying, hybird familiar!jungkook, warlock!namjoon

wc - .8K

a/n: Someone (@kokosg) wanted to chose violence yesterday, so I had to retaliate. Here's a little sneak peak of Blackthorn!Namjoon during the modern era. Also, Namjoon's outfit is shared at the bottom, if you would like to see what mans is working with now.

The modern day version of Blackthorn hasn't been started yet. I am still working on the Min dynasty half of Blackthorn. If you haven't read it, please do! Yoongi is a prince and Agust is his dragon spirit!

taglist: @thickemadame @loisje123

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The sign out front read Kim’s Flowers & Apothecary. The store itself was right out of a novel, a building that stood out on the street. The building was massive, built in an earlier time that had seen better days. The stone was darkened by rain water and time while the wooden door jam, windows and pillars were a deep oak with details painted in gold. It was a building that normal folk stirred clear of while those who still dabbled in magic eagerly seeked out. Plants and bottles of all shapes and sizes took up space in the large glass windows, to quip the interests of those who passed by.

Through the doorway, the room gave way to vine covered walls and an open glass ceiling that turned the inside to a grand solarium of sorts. It was magical with floating lanterns, inlaid bookshelves stacked to capacity with long forgotten text and scrolls; and cabinets filled with glass jars of Atropa belladonna, Verbena officinalis and more. The tiled floors were a lighter color to offset the darkness from the plants and blurred the reflection from the lanterns, creating a subtle glow from overhead and down below.

There is a hallway decorated in cream and green vintage wallpaper and wainscoted walls that leads to the garden; a large outdoor space with a greenhouse attached farther down the yard, past the miniature maze that was built for fun. Within the green hedges, Namjoon keeps a relic from a past life at the center of the maze. Surrounded by a magic halo, a large blackthorn tree sways gently in the breeze. Its trunk is wide and strong, showing its scares of the past to anyone who will look. A story that Namjoon will always recall whenever it rains.

Back inside a large oak cashwrap separates guests from accessing the more lethal ingredients that are kept behind an emerald velvet curtain in the backroom. A spiral staircase hidden in the back room that led to the upstairs where Namjoon and his partner resided after a long day's work. The homely apartment above is much more updated than down below.

The floor is tiled all throughout in soft grays, beiges and creams while the wooden furniture throughout is a deep purple with hints of lighter colors. The kitchen is large, the counter cabinets all a matching purple with lighter wooden butcher block countertops. There are floating shelves built into the walls, cluttered with plants and nick nacks from all throughout time.

The rest of the home is built much the same, softer tones brighten up the darkness of the purple and pull a renewed warmth into the atmosphere. The bedroom is the only difference, the walls were hand painted by Namjoon’s lover, Jeon Jungkook. Different shades of blue and pinks come together in a colorful and serene abstract mosaic that brightens the whole room on an accent wall. That same wall is where the bed is pushed up against with thick purple and blue bedding. Gold accents are littered through the room and bed, creating a galaxy like ambience.

Down stairs, Namjoon waters the flowers. A thick vine hovering nearby in case the warlock drops the watering can. Namjoon has changed through the years and yet stayed the same. His blue hair is now a striking blond and cut short, tapered close to his scalp on the sides and long around the top of his head. His skin is still dusted in a warm caramel from his time in the sun and his body has grown stronger, larger. The hanfu and hanbok of the Joseon dynasty have been updated to match the modern times, but are worn only when Namjoon is meeting with friends of his past. Namjoon now wears colorful capes, velvet robes, double breasted overcoats that have elaborate embroidery on them with simple slacks that match whatever color he wears.

Today he wears an all black double breasted suit and a black button up with a silk tie that he didn’t bother to fasten fully looped loosely around his neck. He has somewhere to be in an hour, so his long black overcoat is hanging on the hook by the garden door, with black and gold thread embroidery that swirls to create an illusion of a tiger and flowers. Namjoon speaks softly to the plants, his black shoes moving carefully as avoids stepping on any little critters that have made a home of his garden.

The door to the garden is ripped open and Namjoon jumps, his hand losing on the watercan as a green and white blur rushes at him. The vine is quick to catch the falling can but not fast enough to save Namjoon from tumbling a few steps backwards.

“Kook? What’s wrong, love?”

Namjoon’s arms wrap around his lover’s waist without a second thought, moving without his mind even telling them to. In his arms, with his face smashed into Namjoon’s face, Jungkook cries. His tears soak through the fabric of Namjoon’s shirt, the blond of his hair, tickling under Namjoon’s cheek as he rocks from side to side.

“H-Hyung!” Jungkook hiccups as he pulls his face away from Namjoon’s chest, his green triangle ears flicker around on his head as he stares at Namjoon with big, teary doe eyes. “H-Hyung….s-she’s here! She’s here!!”

[jerzwriter]

By Chance: The Morning After

I wrote By Chance... all the way back in January (wow!). It was an AU idea where Tobias & Casey meet under very different circumstances. They're closer in age, and meet much earlier leading to a messy, on-and-off relationship that lasts years - and the end is uncertain.

When I saw "the morning after" prompt on @choicesprompts Smutober list, this was the first thing that came to mind, and I knew it was time to dust this off.

Book: Open Heart (pre-series)

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC

Rating: Mature (it's steamy, but not explicit) 18+

Words: 1,901

Summary: Things always look different in the morning light. The night after Casey meets a charming stranger in the bar, she wakes up to uncertainty and a surprise.

By Chance Universe: In this universe, Tobias is around 26, entering his last year of med school at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. Casey is around 22 and beginning her last year as an undergrad at New York University.

A/N: Participating in @choicesprompts Smutober, Day 2. and @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 7: Sharing something personal about them that they've never shared with anyone before.

By Chance... Part 1 Tobias & Casey Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Casey’s bedroom was set up in a very particular way. A good night’s sleep was of paramount importance, and all the elements required to ensure one were present: her favorite pillow and weighted blanket. Her sleep mask, the teddy bear she received on her tenth birthday, and, of course, her room darkening shades. It could be the afternoon on a summer day, but it may as well have been midnight in Casey’s room, and that’s just how she liked it.

But today, she was twisting in the sheets at the crack of dawn. The hot sun was beaming through the sheer ‘why even bother’ curtains, and she shielded her eyes as they hesitantly opened. The room was bright – stark white with minimalist decor, not at all like her own. She didn’t recall her hotel room looking quite this modern... then, she remembered...

“Oh, my God!” She gasped.

She pulled the sheets around her as she sat up. But the sheer panic gripping her didn’t appear to be contagious because the devilishly handsome man lying naked beside her couldn’t have been more at ease.

“Oh, my God!” she repeated, her eyes desperately searching the room for any remnant of her clothing.

The happily slumbering man half-smiled, eyes still shut, a content look on his face. 

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asked groggily as he looped an arm around her. “No need to get up this early, darlin’.”

“My clothes,” was all she could manage. “I don’t see my clothes.”

A broader smile appeared on his lips; he leaned on one elbow to address her.

“If I remember correctly, we started taking those off at the front door. If I were a betting man, I’d say we left a trail between there and about two feet outside my bedroom.”

“OK,” she said, starting out of bed with the sheet wrapped around her as if he hadn’t become intimately acquainted with everything underneath the night before. “Then I need to go get them.”

Leaning back with his head resting in his hands, he watched as she tried to contain her panic.

“You could... but my roommate is still at home. He should be gone in about thirty minutes... so why don’t you come back and join me until then.”

“You’re roommate,” she squealed. “So someone else on the planet knows that I was here last night.”

“Theoretically,” he shrugged. “It’s not like he saw you or caught your name... although....”

“Although?”

“I may have yelled it out once or twice... so chances are he knows your first name.”

“Oh, God!” she whimpered, rubbing her temples.

“Relax, he wouldn’t be able to pick you out of a police lineup. You have nothing to worry about.”

Casey plopped back on the bed with a huff. He was right. There was no way she was leaving his room until the apartment was empty, so she might as well cool her heels. When she told him she wasn’t the type to get picked up at bars last night, she meant that. But she wasn’t naïve; after one look in those aqua-blue eyes, one gaze at his tantalizing grin, she already knew he would make a liar out of her.

As much as he found her spiraling amusing, he didn’t see the point in making the poor woman suffer any longer. 

“Casey,” he spoke softly, extending a hand. “Come lay down. It’s all right, you don’t have to be so... so tense.”

She fell back with a sigh, careful to keep a safe distance between them.

“Yes, I do. This,” she gestured feverishly, “isn’t something I normally do. Waking up in the bed of some guy whose name I can’t recall isn’t my thing.”

She couldn’t tell if his insulted look was genuine or for effect.  

“I’m pretty sure you remember my name.”

“Why?” she snapped, turning to face him. “I was screaming it out last night as well?”

“Please don’t tell me you don’t remember. I don’t know if my ego could handle that.”

She wanted to keep a straight face, but when she turned to him, she had to smirk.

“Why do I think your ego would be intact no matter what.”

“Because you don’t know me too well,” he grinned.

And what a grin. It was magnetic; it had to be. Because when he leaned in to kiss her, she found her body falling into his without permission. The moment his lips touched hers, she was done for, forgetting  why she was fighting at all. He pulled back and brushed her hair behind her ears, his sensual swagger replaced with an aura of genuine concern.

“You’re not married,” he stated. “Not even in a relationship. We discussed that last night.”

“OK?”

“And you weren’t drunk. Two glasses of wine, followed by two glasses of water. I would never take advantage of anyone.”

“I didn’t insinuate that you did, but what’s your point?”

“My point is we didn’t do anything wrong. Even if this isn’t something you normally do, I really hope you won’t feel bad because you did. I’d hate to think you have regrets... I know I sure don’t.”  

Her eyes shut as he caressed her cheek. Images of the previous night flashed through her mind. His cheesy pickup lines at the bar, lines that would have had her running from away from others, but from him... they worked. They were almost charming. His hand rested on his chin, and his eyes sparkled as he watched her speak, looking at her like she was the only person in the world. It was intoxicating. He was wrong; she had been drunk, not on alcohol... only on him.  

Hours passed, and the bar was about to close. He offered to walk her to her car, and in the parking lot, one tender kiss led to another, then one more, and then, they weren’t so tender anymore.

“You staying nearby?” He whispered, his breath hot on her ear.

“My hotel’s about twenty minutes away,” she offered. “But... is your place closer? I’m not sure I want to wait that long.”

His smile broadened as he lifted her to the roof of her car with ease. The weight of his body pressed against her as he kissed her ear, her neck, her collarbone. It didn’t tickle, but she couldn’t stop giggling.

“Why don’t we go to your place before we do something that will get us arrested?”

“Depriving us of a good time,” he grinned. “Your car or mine?”

The hours that followed were a blur. A beautiful, erotic, blissful blur. His hands were on her face, shoulders, her breasts. His hands and tongue traced every contour of her body, leaving her trembling and aching for more... and how he delivered. Straddled on top of him, lying beneath, side-by-side, they rode to the peak of ecstasy time and time again before collapsing into each other’s arms.

They talked for hours. She wasn’t sure why she told this man more than her past three partners combined, and he was amazed at how easy it was to share with her. With neither of them interested in sleep, kisses reignited their passion, and after one final wave, they were blissfully spent. None of those sleep aids she normally used required, and Casey quickly fell asleep in his arms. Tobias played with her hair, kissing the top of her head until he nodded off as well. It was like a dream in the dim haze of the night, but the morning sun ushered in a different reality she hadn’t been prepared to face.

“Tobias!” she smiled. “Your name is Tobias.”

“Ahh,” he grinned. “See, I knew I was unforgettable.”

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” she sighed. “I’m not accustomed to going to a bar to meet one date and going home with someone else.”

“Not for nothing, but I’m glad the asshole didn’t show up. So, you thinking of going to Hopkins?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “Wait, did they send you to sweeten the deal?”

Tobias barked out a laugh. “Not quite. Besides, I’ll be heading off to my residency next year, and I assure you, there’s no one else like me on campus.”

“Oh really? Where are you trying to match? Maybe I’ll apply near there,” she winked, laughing when she saw the worry in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m only joking... I know this is a one-night thing...”

A slamming door stopped her midway through.

“That’s Ethan heading out... my roommate.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “Then I suppose I should get my clothes.”

Tobias seemed engaged in an inner battle as she stepped out of bed. Her hand was on the doorknob when he blurted out.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“What?”

“A one-night stand... that’s not what this has to be. I know you’re finishing college in New York, and I’m here in Baltimore. Neither of us has any idea where we’ll be a year from now, so... I’m not....” he trailed. 

“You’re not proposing,” she smirked, eliciting another laugh from him.

“All I know is that I’d love to see you again. I don’t want this to be a one-night thing unless that’s what you want.”

“It’s not,” she smiled, falling back into bed with him. “It’s not what I want at all.”

“Good,” he smiled, lifting her chin higher for another lingering kiss.

“Mmmm,” Casey moaned as she pulled away. “I am soooo glad Jordan canceled on me.”

Tobias jumped back, his eyes widened.

“So, wait... Jor... Jordan!?”

“Yes. Jordan, the guy who stood me up last night.”

“Oh, fuck...” Tobias groaned, rolling on his back. “His last name? Please... do you know the guys last name?”

“Uh... I haven’t been talking to him too long, but uh... C... it starts with a C... Car... Car...”

“Carrick!” They said in unison.

“You know him?” Casey asked.

“Yeah, only since birth.”

“What?!”

You know him?

“He’s my kid brother.”

“What! You have to be fucking me?”

“Well,” he chuckled nervously, “I sort of already did that.”

“Fuck!” Casey cursed. “This makes things... awkward.”

“Yeah... it does,” he droned, looking at her with almost sadness. “So, maybe this is a one-night stand?”

Casey lowered her eyes, not sure why this stung so much.

“If you think that’s best,” she started, then stopped herself cold. “No... it doesn’t have to be. It’s not like I even met Jordan... and he stood me up! That’s on him.. not us... but... but...” she heaved out a breath. “He’s your brother... so it’s probably best if this is it,” she bit her lip and stood up. Putting on her clothes was long overdue. “That’s what I get for going home with a guy from the bar.”

“It’s not for the best.”

“What? What’s not?”

“This being a one-night thing... you walking out that door and me never seeing you again. That’s not for the best. It’s not like you were dating my brother like you said... You never even met. I’ll talk to him. I’m sure it’ll be fine and... I’d like to see you again, Casey,”

She fell back into bed, “I was really hoping you say that.”

“You know, I have to admit...you do have phenomenal taste in men. I mean, our genetics is...”

“Would you shut the hell up?” She laughed.

His lips were already upon her when he whispered, “With pleasure.”

And clothes wouldn’t be needed for several more hours...

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Other tags on reblog

[masteringlight]

The Art of Light Control: Modern Room Darkening Curtains for a Stylish Home

At Lanting Curtains, our mission is to enhance the ambiance of your home by providing high-quality, modern room-darkening curtains that block out light and noise and add a touch of elegance and style. We are dedicated to delivering excellent consumer service and innovative products that fulfill our customers' evolving requirements, making their living spaces more comfortable, aesthetically pleasing, and restful. With a focus on sustainability and ethical practices, we strive to be a trusted brand in the home.

[puddle-nerd]

Venus in Lace

Summary: Never send your man a picture of yourself in lingerie (especially on his birthday) unless you’re prepared to be quiet. (Lo'ak/Reader)

Prompt 13 (In Public) for my submission for LunasKinktober2023

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Aged up characters, everyone is legal, Yes they’re both eighteen+!, Female Reader, Modern AU, Human Lo’ak, Human Reader, In Public, Lingerie Shopping, In the Changing Room, Fingering, Soft Dom Lo’ak, P in V, Vaginal Intercourse, Unprotected intercourse, Mentioned Birthday Sex, Creampie

You were at the mall at a fashionable lingerie store, trying on a set when you got the text: Hey bby. Where u @?

You quickly grinned and instead of answering, snapped a photograph of yourself in the matching bra and panty you were considering buying and hit send, only texting words afterwards: What do you think, birthday boy? Should I get this set?

Your boyfriend didn’t answer immediately so you put your phone down and started taking the new underwear off, grabbing the other set to try on. You’d just smoothed everything into place when you heard a voice call out your name. You perked up, realizing your boyfriend had come to find you. “Baby, you still in here?”

Curious, you peeked from behind the curtain and met Lo’ak’s gaze. He instantly smirked and stride towards you. With you backing up, he ducked behind the curtain to join you in your changing room stall, his gaze darkening in lust as he took in the second set of underwear you’d put on. “What do you think of this one, instead?” You teased, reaching out playfully and tucking your fingers beneath his soft tee-shirt and into the waist of his jeans. “You like this one better?”

“I think they’re both pretty great,” Lo’ak responded quietly, backing you up and caging you against the wall of the changing room, “but I think I’m gonna like unwrapping my present better.”

You hum and glance at the last piece you had wanted to try on. You point it out and tell him to sit in the provided wingback chair since you had hung your clothing on one of the extra hooks. The young man sat back, spreading his knees and watched you strip off the underwear set and grab a bright red lacy teddy. The material was softer than you had anticipated with a thin collar that tied at the back of your neck and a thin golden heart-shaped hook just level with your belly, holding the plunging neckline from gaping obscenely. It came down to your crotch and turned into a thong, pulling up against your body teasingly. “I’ll need some help tying this piece,” you told him, holding the two ends of the ribbon that would secure the small of your back, leaving the rest of your spine bare.

You backed up into the juncture of Lo’ak’s thighs and felt him begin to tie you up. Before he let you go, though, he spanked your mostly bare bottom lightly, smirking as you flinched in surprise. In retaliation, you sat down upon his lap, rubbing yourself over where he was already getting hard. “Fuck, baby,” Lo’ak groaned, grabbing your hips, guiding your movements over him. “Best twenty-first birthday ever. You’re definitely getting this one.” You grinned, trying not to whimper as the teddy caught on his jeans slightly and pulled, creating friction against your clit. “I should take this off,” you muttered. “Don’t want to ruin it before I buy it.” Lo’ak let you up and watched avidly as you untied yourself and stripped the red lace off your body. He didn’t let you go far though, dragging your naked body back to sit on his lap, your back to his front. He manhandled your legs apart and slid a hand over your pelvis, cupping you intimately. “Dirty girl, getting all hot and bothered in a changing room,” Lo’ak teased, sliding two of his fingers inside of you. “Look how wet you already are. It’s almost like you want me to fuck you right here, right now.” You wriggled in his lap, humping yourself into his hand. His cock was firm beneath your bottom. “Wanna play, little girl? Can you keep quiet for me?” You nodded, trying to steady your voice as you whispered back, “Yes, sir. Yes, I can.” Your answer and the tone it had been delivered in must have satisfied him because he leaned you forward just enough to free himself from his jeans and underwear before guiding you down onto him. Even after all this time, it was a stretch you needed a moment to get used to, sighing as your walls fluttered to accommodate his length. You settled yourself into him and began to ride, eyes flicking to the closed curtain of your changing room. The idea of getting caught was terrifying but also so thrilling. It helped you speed up your movements as you actively worked at stifling your reactions to the pleasure building up inside you both. All it would take was another customer coming back here or a nosey attendant and you could both get caught and worse. Lo’ak pulled you backwards, halting your movements and taking over as you draped yourself over his chest. This position didn’t allow him as deep penetration but it rubbed a spot inside you that had your eyes rolling in pleasure. One hand on your hip, the other tweaked your nipples as he hammered up into you from below. “Ohhh, oh fuck,” you moaned, immediately turning your face into his neck to stifle your noises. “Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he grunted, bouncing you on his cock. “Fuck, I can feel you getting close. Touch your clit for me.” You obliged, arching into him as you got closer. “Lo,” you whined. “Quiet, baby, or they’ll hear us,” he panted. “Just a little more. About to fill ya up. Give ya the cream.” You nodded, pressing into him harder and playing with your clit even more. “Oh, fuck, about to – cum with me, baby. Fucking…” Lo’ak grunted through gritted teeth as he burst, shoving you down hard onto him as he finished. You rubbed yourself a little more and felt him bite down on your shoulder and immediately followed after, trying not to cry out as pleasure shuddered through your body. You both panted, relaxing back into the chair and grinned, meeting each other’s gaze. You both started to giggle and kissed each other happily, reveling in the afterglow and the fact that you hadn’t gotten caught. As if on cue, footsteps on the carpet sounded and you and Lo’ak froze. “Miss? You okay, in there?” “Yep, just great, almost finished,” you called out, trying not to burst out laughing. The attendant told her to call if you needed anything else and padded away. You and Lo’ak sniggered to yourselves and shared a triumphant kiss.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 13 October 2023 Word Count: 1,064

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng

[thehues-home]

Transforming Home Theaters with Thermal Insulated Blackout Curtains

Creating the perfect home theater experience involves more than just a big screen and comfy seating. To truly immerse yourself in the movie, you need to control light and sound effectively. Thermal insulated blackout curtains are an essential component in achieving this goal. In this article, we’ll explore the numerous benefits of using these curtains to enhance your home theater for optimal light and sound control.

The Importance of Light Control in Home Theaters

One of the most critical aspects of any home theater is the ability to manage light. Ambient light from outside can wash out the image on your screen, diminishing your viewing experience. Thermal insulated blackout curtains are designed to block out all external light, ensuring that your home theater remains dark and conducive to movie watching.

Benefits of Light Control:

Enhanced Picture Quality: By eliminating glare and reflections, you can enjoy more vibrant colors and clearer images.

Mood Setting: A darkened room helps create the right atmosphere for an immersive experience, drawing viewers into the film’s world.

Why Choose Thermal Insulated Blackout Curtains?

Thermal insulated blackout curtains offer more than just light-blocking benefits. Here’s why they are a fantastic choice for home theaters:

1. Temperature Control

These curtains help maintain a comfortable temperature in your theater by blocking heat from entering during the summer and preventing warmth from escaping in the winter. This means your HVAC system won’t have to work as hard, leading to energy savings.

2. Sound Insulation

Insulated curtains are excellent for sound control. They can significantly reduce noise from outside, creating a quieter environment that enhances your viewing experience. Whether it’s traffic, barking dogs, or lawnmowers, sound insulating curtains can help keep the focus on the movie.

3. Versatile Aesthetics

Available in various colors, patterns, and fabrics, thermal drapes can easily complement your home theater’s design. Whether you prefer a sleek modern look or something more classic and cozy, there’s a curtain option that fits your style.

Choosing the Right Thermal Insulated Blackout Curtains

When selecting thermal insulated blackout curtains for your home theater, consider the following factors:

1. Fabric and Thickness

Look for curtains made from thick, multi-layered materials. Fabrics like velvet, polyester, or heavy cotton blends provide superior insulation and light-blocking capabilities.

2. Color and Design

Opt for darker colors to maximize light-blocking efficiency. Rich hues like deep blue, charcoal, or even black can not only enhance the blackout effect but also add a touch of elegance to your home theater.

3. Length and Width

For effective light control, choose curtains that extend from the ceiling to the floor and are wide enough to cover the entire window frame. This ensures that no light seeps in from the sides or bottom.

4. Installation Method

Consider how you will hang your curtains. Rod pockets, grommets, or clips can all provide different looks and ease of use. Ensure that the hardware you choose complements your theater’s decor.

Styling Your Home Theater with Thermal Insulated Blackout Curtains

Here are some tips on how to style thermal insulated blackout curtains in your home theater:

1. Layering

For added insulation and light control, consider layering your blackout curtains with sheer drapes. This combination allows you to enjoy natural light during the day while still having the option to block it out completely when watching movies.

2. Matching Decor

Coordinate your curtains with your theater’s color scheme. If your walls are painted a deep shade, matching your curtains can create a cohesive look. Alternatively, choose curtains in a contrasting color to make a bold statement.

3. Accent Lighting

Incorporate accent lighting in your home theater to enhance the ambiance. Wall sconces or LED strips can complement your curtains and create a theater-like atmosphere, making it feel even more inviting.

4. Use of Patterns

If you want to add visual interest, consider patterned thermal drapes. Geometric or abstract designs can elevate the overall look of your theater without compromising on functionality.

Conclusion

Thermal insulated blackout curtains are a game-changer for home theaters, offering superior light and sound control while enhancing energy efficiency. With the right choice of curtains, you can transform your viewing space into a cinematic paradise, ensuring that every movie night is an immersive experience. Whether you’re an avid movie buff or a casual viewer, investing in quality insulated curtains is sure to elevate your home theater experience to new heights.

[dragon--sage]

WIP Whenever

tagged by @fadedsweater FOREVER ago but i am just now feeling like i have a grip on this not-so-cute meet cute i have devised for my latest untitled WIP (modern au, parisy val royeaux, magical elements bc i can't restrain myself) that has taken up all my daydreams lately. ANYWAYS tl;dr here is a little peak behind the veil. thank you for tagging me sweater!!! ✨

i'm tagging anyone else who'd like to share something they're working on because i LOVE to see it, and appreciate being tagged but overthink and fret over who else to tag! :')

“You are Dalish,” Solas said, as Ellana stepped into the weak moonlight filtering through the windows, and he made out her vallaslin for the first time. The word, on his sharp and admittedly honeyed tongue, came just shy of an insult. His eyes raked over her face and a look of cool dismissal instantly fell over his own.

“What’s the matter, allergic to halla?” She quipped back, crossing her arms over her chest and quirking her head to the side.

“The Dalish are as children, clinging to false memories of a long-forgotten past,” He snapped immediately, the accusation so practiced it was as if he’d uttered this exact sentence several hundred times before.

Sweet Sylaise—what an insufferable know-it-all, she thought.

“Oh, but you know the truth, right?” Ellana countered—voice acidic, mocking.

The degree of condescension in her voice was a bit shocking, even to her.

(How much and how quickly she had been riled, how easy it had been for him…)

His brow quirked and he smirked at the challenge in her response, apparently amused by her consternation. She fought an epic and nigh impossible battle to keep her frustration from showing on her face.

“I have seen things they—you—have not,” He said simply, with a small shrug.

“Oh, well that clears everything up. Thank you for sharing your infinite wisdom, hahren.”

“Felassan!” Solas snapped, eyes cutting from Ellana to the Slow Arrow. Felassan, having been examining an old satin curtain that framed one of the room’s many windows between his pointer finger and thumb, abruptly dropped it, straightening to his full height.

“Hm?” Came his eventual reply, after he’d cleared his throat. The moonlight filtering through the dusty windowpane glinted starkly against his pale skin and flashed in his violet eyes.

“Are you trying to be funny?” Solas lapsed into elvish (perhaps this was a habit of his, when he was feeling particularly peevish).

“Well, if I am, I’m not trying hard enough, am I?” Felassan shot back with a glare. He stepped closer, motioning to Lavellan as he went. “I bring you our best potential recruit in ages and this is the thanks I get?” He had switched back to Common, though Ellana understood their elvish well enough.

(Yet even while she understood them, there was something distinctly different about the way they spoke it that struck her—the pronunciations and emphases different from any she’d come across, even having met elves from Dalish clans all over Thedas in her twenty-nine years.)

They moved closer and lowered their voices, and spoke so quickly she could no longer make out what they were saying.

Suddenly, Solas stepped away from Felassan and looked at her. His eyes darkened and narrowed, just for the slightest instant, and then he smirked.

“Fine,” He said coolly. “As a first test: you are welcome in our city safehouse.” A pause. A moment’s silence to appreciate that, of course, there would be a catch. “If you can find it.” His smugness indicated that he believed he’d just given Ellana an impossible task.

Felassan gave a loud, indignant huff of breath, and made as if to speak, but Solas pointed an accusatory finger in his direction.

“No help,” Said Solas, interrupting whatever Felassan was going to say.

The Slow Arrow rolled his eyes and waved him off.

Solas looked at Ellana again. “The only hint I’ll allow you is this: numbers here mean nothing, the crowd is lonely.”

He turned from the window and headed towards the door Felassan had pulled her through earlier, the one that led to the back stairwell. Just before he disappeared into the mess of props that obscured the exit from view, Solas half turned, looking back at them over his shoulder.

“It was a pleasure, Ellana.”

The finality in his voice made the statement sound like a less-than-fond farewell. He turned away and continued out of sight. Then, the sound of a door opening and closing echoed sharply through the room.

“Bastard,” Ellana breathed, glaring in the direction Solas had gone. Her eyes cut to Felassan, widening in frustration and disbelief.

“Talks like a villain from a period drama on the OPB and dresses like a disgraced librarian living full-time out of his van with three feral cats! And has the never to treat someone like that? Who the fuck does he think he is?”

Once she began to complain it was difficult to stop.

Felassan shrugged, brows knitting apologetically, as if he had no idea how to answer the question.  

“If it makes you feel any better,” He said, after a long, slightly uncomfortable silence, “I actually think that could have gone much worse.”

[drafty-castle]

I don’t have cash to send you right now but I do have some “surviving the cold” advice after living in a 1800s house without insulation - in northern Maine - for 13 months san furnace.

• tape up plastic over the windows/doors to prevent drafts or heat exchange

- bubble wrap also works as insulation and allows light in through the windows

- a lot of draft comes from around windows/windows frames rather than the glass itself in modern windows whereas the draft in old windows comes from broken seals

• if you don’t mind holes in your walls, nailing rugs against exterior walls acts as extra insulation and works like medieval tapestries

• they make insulated door curtains that keep out the cool and keep in the warm while allowing you entry and exit off the door

• pick a “warm room” (preferably but not necessarily an interior/windowless room because that’s hard to come by) for the family to bundle together on bad days/nights. Have this room be extra insulated if possible.

• Add a winter tent to this room if you can. Plus blankets-blankets-blankets. They make tents for beds but they’re fairly expensive and mostly for darkening not for the cold. Hiking/mountain tents probably work best

• You can zip two, three, four, and even more sleeping bags together to make a frankin-bag to fit the whole family - sharing body heat is the best way to stay warm

• Heat rises, so putting the warm room upstairs (if you have one) is preferable.

• The drier and the oven give off heat when in use - cook and do laundry when the family is home to enjoy the heat (as a lover of all things slow cooker, this was hard for me)

Will this cut into your furnace funds? Yes, probably. But you won’t freeze in your own bed either.

Also, weird thing I noticed. My kitchen would get so cold everything froze downstairs - cat water, canned food, freezer food - so I’d just use the kitchen and pantry itself as a freezer during the winter and put things I didn’t want frozen (like milk and bread) in the fridge. That way no raccoons or bears could get to it and yet it stayed frozen. Don’t know if this will be applicable to you but I thought it was a slim silver lining to an otherwise miserable two winters.

I’m so sure this is happening to you.

Good luck. When I’ve got some extra cash I’ll try to help that way as well.

My Furnace Broke :(

Hi kids, it's your favorite storytelling chicken, and my Furnace has decided to die. It also decided to take the A/C unit out with it.

This is both very expensive to fix, and also kind of urgent: the more observant of you may have noticed that it is November, and getting onto winter here in the Rockies.

Look at this little man, huddling on my feet for warmth.

I have *some* emergency funds, but not enough to cover even a temporary fix, and that's also the fund that vet, medical, and car repair bills come out of, all of which I've had too much of this year.

I'm currently pitting four HVAC companies against each other to get the best offer possible, and getting the paperwork done for state subsidies, refunds and other discounts, but I still need your help.

Thank you all, everything you can do helps.

[sherminreview]

Transform your room into an attractive one with Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains.

Jiuzhen pink velvet curtains transform your living space with luxurious privacy and room-darkening elegance.

Introduction

Imagine coming home to a living room that’s both stylish and private, with a calming ambiance tailored just for you. JIUZHEN Pink Velvet Curtains (96 inches) make this dream a reality. These premium curtains combine beauty, practicality, and durability, making them a favorite among homeowners. From privacy to room-darkening benefits, these curtains cater to modern living needs.

This blog covers every detail you need to know about JIUZHEN Pink Velvet Curtains—from their design features to installation tips, styling advice, and more. Let’s dive in!

Why Choose JIUZHEN Pink Velvet Curtains?

Improve Your Residence with Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains

Lighting and window treatments remain the best ways of ensuring that your home has a warm feel to it. Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains 96 Inches for the Living Room is not just an accessory that will be hung in your windows— it’s the enhancement of your living concept that will amplify both the luxury and usefulness of your living room. These luxurious curtains are fashionable and practical at the same time being some of the best made, so anyone who wants to add that little something to their home should consider these curtains.

But these curtains are not some mere fashion statements—these curtains have been made to work. The Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains not only give elegance, but also elements of privacy as well as covering the room, as well as insulation of heat. For instance, when you want to block sharp sunlight or regain privacy or even retain heat in our rooms then these curtains will serve the purpose of the letter.

Luxurious Velvet Material

The rich, soft velvet fabric not only feels great but also looks stunning in any setting. Its slight sheen enhances the elegance of your room, reflecting light in a soft, inviting way.

1. Privacy Without Compromise

JIUZHEN curtains are thick enough to protect your privacy, ideal for homes located in busy neighborhoods or with large windows facing public spaces.

Room-Darkening Efficiency

Designed to filter out up to 80% of sunlight, these curtains are perfect for creating a cozy movie night ambiance or getting restful sleep during the day.

Energy Efficiency

The curtains act as an insulating layer, helping to maintain your home’s temperature. In winter, they keep heat in, and in summer, they block out excessive heat.

2. Key Features and Benefits

A Fashionable Way of Solving Modern Day Homes

One can only imagine how important it is to turn to your home again after a tiring day at work or after being out in the busy city most of the time. Jiuzhen pink velvet curtains assist in setting that ambiance by blending velvet and pink color to give a calm feeling. Rugs are suitable for almost any home décor theme, ranging from contemporary to sleek and from traditional to glamorous.

In any living room these curtains serve as eye-catching features as well as bringing a coherence to the furniture and accessories. In bedrooms, they provide comfort by reducing outside light and sounds, which makes it suitable to have a proper sleep. This feature makes them useful for movies, naps, or anyone that needs to reduce glare while using a device in well-lit environments.

Material: High-quality velvet for a luxurious look.

Length: Perfect 96-inch drop, ideal for most living room setups.

Design: Elegant pink hue with grommet-style construction for easy installation.

Durability: Resistant to wear and tear, maintaining their look even after years of use.

Care: Machine washable and easy to maintain.

3. FAQs Answered: Everything You Need to Know

Q: Can these curtains be used in other rooms?A: Yes! While they’re a top pick for living rooms, their elegant design makes them suitable for bedrooms, dining areas, and even home offices.

Q: How much light do they block?A: These curtains block about 80% of sunlight, perfect for a cozy but not completely dark atmosphere.

Q: Are they kid-friendly?A: Absolutely. Their soft material and durable stitching make them safe and long-lasting, even in households with active kids.

Features That Matter

That is why Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains are developed with great attention to the needs of modern people. It is easy to install as they adopt the grommet-style that is carefully designed as the fabric type is velvet, and it is durable, soft and very easy to clean. These curtains are by all means attractive to the eyes as well as very practical in their use in making the best furnishing statement of form and function.

Given the more recent emphasis on energy conservation in residential premises, these curtains are good insulators. They are instrumental at preventing heat from escaping during the winter as well as keeping heat inside during summer hence helping to save on energy expenses hence making a home more sustainable.

4. Installation Guide

Prepare the Stage to Glance and Comfy

No matter if you are updating your living room, creating a nurturing bedroom space, or searching for a practical home décor enhancement, Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains will fit the bill. They enrich your rooms with some of the opulence when meeting other essential requirements such as, curtains provide privacy, control light and act as insulators. In the sections that follow we will get to know how these curtains change the look of your living rooms, discuss their most obvious advantages, and find out why these curtains are simply indispensable.

Installing your JIUZHEN Pink Velvet Curtains is quick and straightforward.

Measure Your Window: Ensure your rod is placed high enough for a floor-length drape.

Install Curtain Rods: Use sturdy rods to handle the weight of velvet curtains.

Hang the Curtains: Slide the grommets over the rod, ensuring an even distribution.

Adjust for Symmetry: Arrange the pleats for a polished look.

5. Styling Tips for Different Room Aesthetics

Beautiful Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains Can Change Your Living Space

Therefore, Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains 96 Inches are not only the curtains you install in windows but they are elegant accessories that fit perfectly in your home especially in the island region. These curtains are made with a lot of attention giving any room a stylish look while the functionality of these curtains cannot be questioned.

Modern Minimalist

Pair the curtains with neutral-toned furniture and metallic décor for a sleek, contemporary vibe.

Vintage Glamour

Combine with antique furniture and gold accents to create a timeless, sophisticated ambiance.

Playful and Vibrant

Use bold, colorful throw pillows and rugs to complement the pink hue, adding a playful energy to your space.

6. Maintenance and Longevity

A Taste of the Refined for Each Space

The soft feel of velvet when touching that material and the pinkish color assures one that anyone who sits there will be relaxed. Used in the living room to match modern design and style or in the bedroom to create the perfect nest, Jiuzhen’s pink velvet curtain is perfect for every homeowner who wants to inject the interiors. Velvet remains fashion proof, so no matter when you place an order and when you use the material, your space will definitely look warm and beautiful.

To keep your curtains looking their best:

Vacuum Regularly: Use a handheld vacuum to remove dust.

Spot Cleaning: Use a mild detergent for stains.

Machine Wash: Use cold water and a delicate cycle.

Air Dry: Avoid using a dryer to prevent shrinking.

7. Where to Buy and Current Deals

Purchase these curtains on platforms like Amazon or directly from JIUZHEN’s website. Look out for discounts during seasonal sales for the best deals.

Unmatched Privacy and Comfort

Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains are not only gorgeous but also practical. These provide a very opaque look due to the thick colour and make a fabulous fit for bedrooms or for living rooms that face a busy street. Through their design, these curtains provide profound shading from light and other external interferences hence allowing the user to get relaxed or sleep or concentrate on the required task. Added to this are their roles in providing thermal insulation that aids in controlling indoor temperatures making your home warm and energy efficient over the seasons.

8. Why JIUZHEN Curtains Outperform Competitors

Affordability: High-end quality at a reasonable price.

Versatility: Suitable for various interior styles.

Customer Support: Reliable assistance and a satisfaction guarantee.

It is easy to install and maintain.

Jiuzhen curtains have a grommet design and can be installed easily to look a lot neater in no time regardless of who is installing it. Additionally, their durability, as well as ease in their maintenance, means that they will remain beautiful for several years without demanding hard work. The velvet fabric is easy to clean therefore if you ensure it is clean always it retains the color and softness and is free from dust or stain; it will give you satisfaction for as long as you will be using your money investments on it.

Versatile and Adaptable

A very important characteristic of these curtains is their versatility. However, for making a living room and bedroom they are ideal and can also be used in dining areas, home offices, and even nurseries. These curtains can be put together with plain colors that give the room a clean look, or combined with other tones that make for a more dramatic interior design of the room and the house in general. Their 96-inch length guarantees full window covering while still being practical, versatile and simply stunning.

09. Customer Testimonials and Reviews

Customer satisfaction and value in Customer satisfaction and value Customer satisfaction and value

Online feedback has been positive towards the Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains due to the product differentiation on quality, design and cost. Loving how these curtains enhance their spaces and at the same time, cost effectiveness. Relative to other brands that utilize luxurious materials and charge high prices for them, Jiuzhen is a reliable option for home decorators and the regular consumer.

"These curtains are stunning! They’ve completely transformed my living room." – Jane T. "Great value for the price. They’re thick, soft, and easy to clean!" – Michael L.

10. Strategies to Enhance Your Interior Design

Why Wait? Transform Your Space Today

That is why if you are one of those people who want to change the look of their home interiors quickly and without much effort, Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains 96 Inches can be exactly what you need. They provide shade, and light regulation, and best of all they are a smart way to save power and keep the room warm and cozy in equal measure. Their touch of luxury makes any room warmer. It means that Jiuzhen is not just a company that you are investing into to buy a product that will make your house beautiful and comfortable.

Use ambient lighting to highlight the velvet texture.

Pair with complementary furniture for a cohesive look.

Add contrasting sheer curtains for depth and dimension.

Conclusion

JIUZHEN Pink Velvet Curtains (96 inches) are more than just window coverings—they’re an investment in style, comfort, and functionality. With their room-darkening capabilities, privacy protection, and luxurious design, they’re perfect for any home.

You should not let this great chance slip away to enhance your house with these beautiful curtains. No matter if you are entertaining your friends and families, enjoying a movie at home, or designing a lovely bedroom, Jiuzhen Pink Velvet Curtains are the curtains that make your idea come true. Order yours today and be part of many other satisfied customers raving about the touch of classy window treatments.

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