#gold thread couching

[tanuki-kimono]

Mind blowing gold thread couching for this antique obi depicting a Chinese-styled dragon (seriously this couching must have taken ages to sew on considering what a pain in the ass couching is!).

This obi is paired with far quieter striped kimono with kanji spelling "rising dragon" (昇龍).

[indiansareedesigns07]

The Ancient Art of Gold and Silver Embroidery

The Ancient Art of Gold and Silver Embroidery Explore the rich history and cultural significance of gold and silver embroidery, a revered art form that has been practiced for centuries. From the intricate designs of the Mughal Empire to the delicate fabrics of the Portuguese, this video takes you on a journey through the techniques, materials, and centers of gold and silver embroidery.

[chilope]

i cant truly explain why but i almost cried yesterday while talking to a woman who studies medieval rus goldwork embroidery, who explained that there is a very particular method that is used to do goldwork embroidery called couching that keeps the thread on the top of the fabric (compared to normal embroidery techniques, where the thread goes over and under the fabric for each stitch) to conserve the very expensive gold thread and this technique is seen historically on more or less all examples of goldwork pieces commissioned by the church, nobility, or chivalric orders from goldwork guilds. however, rural gravesites reveal that lots of people, not just the wealthy, owned a small piece or two of goldwork embroidery, usually collars or cuffs, that were made by someone they knew. these pieces were almost universally made using typical embroidery techniques, meaning they used up twice the gold thread. something about the idea of people, so long ago, saving up to make something beautiful and expensive and special for someone they love, even lacking the specialized knowledge to do it the "proper" way, is so human to me.

[lissdiary]

during the holidays, it was tradition to participate in secret santa with the class. you reached into the basket, picking a folded piece of paper with one of your classmate’s name on it. you hoped it was katsuki’s name, but unfortunately it wasn’t. it was mina’s name on the paper, and while you absolutely adore her you had hope it would’ve been him.

you noticed denki handing the basket to katsuki to grab a paper. he unfolded it and hid in his pocket, you couldn’t help but wonder who’s name was on his paper. you had a crush on katsuki for a few months now and when your friends began teasing the both of you, it lead to you slowly getting to know another. you both grew a close bond, causing your crush on him to grow more and more. that same night, you were walking to your dorm when you noticed katsuki opening his door, leaving it slightly open. it was a sign for you to come in, a common thing the two of you do when you wanna talk to each other.

you knock twice before you opened the door, spotting the blonde cleaning his desk. “hey kats, whatcha doing?” you walked up behind him, catching him off guard. he jumped to the sudden question, putting whatever was on his desk away. “nothin, nun of yer’ business.” he closed his drawer, turning around to look at you. “didn’t look like nothing to me, was that for your secret santa?” you teased him, causing him to roll his eyes and sit on his bed. you followed, sitting beside him. “tch, no. i’m not doin’ that.” he spat out. you knew katsuki wasn’t the brightest or most spirited person, but you had hope he would’ve participated if your name was on his paper. guess not.

the next day, you asked katsuki to accompany you to go shopping. you wanted to grab a few things for yourself, but also for mina. you instantly knew what to get her, a gift she’d happily accept. katsuki followed you around like a pup, putting on an act as if he didn’t enjoy it.

you stumbled upon a store that had cute fashionable clothes that appeared to look like mina’s style. you grabbed a couple shirts and skirts and went upfront to pay. at the counter, there was a display of phone charms. you already had one but the color was wearing off and it was hanging on by a thread. you grabbed one of the phone charms to look at it closer, but ended up putting it back since you already have one. katsuki took a mental note of this, looking at your phone charm then looking at the new more detailed one. he knew you liked stuff like that, plus it was time for a new one. after a while, you both decided to head back to the dorms in order to prepare mina’s gift.

katsuki notices everything about you, your favorite coffee order, the way your perfume smells, whether you prefer gold or silver, your favorite flower, and your favorite season.

as christmas came by, your gift was nicely wrapped topped with nice lacy ribbon. you sat on the couch, waiting for secret santa to commence. you noticed katsuki was sitting across from you with his hands in his pockets, a slight angry pout on his face. when it was your turn, you grabbed your gift and walked over to mina. “merry christmas!” she took the gift in her hands, opening it excitedly. she squealed, “aw thank you soo much, yn! i love it!” she stood up from her seat to give you hug. you sat back down and waited for your gift.

after it was over, you realized you didn’t receive a gift this year. “oh, yn doesn’t have a gift? did someone forget?..” you thought to yourself, maybe someone had forgotten to get a gift, or forgotten to put your name in the basket. you went upstairs to your dorm, teary eyed at the fact that someone forgot about you.

you noticed katsuki’s door was slightly open again, you knocked twice before entering. katsuki was sitting on his bed, a gift basket beside him. he still had his typical angry pout on his face, but this time he looked nervous. “merry christmas”, he mumbled looking away from you. “kats? what is this?” you walked up to the basket, quickly noticing how it was filled with everything you love or recently mentioned to him. “ts for you, idiot. i was your secret santa.” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, giving him the biggest hug.

you felt so relieved to know that someone got you a gift, that katsuki had gotten you a gift. “thank you, kats.” you got off of him to look at the basket, you immediately noticed the phone charm. “did you seriously go back just to get this for me?” you picked it up, removing the old one to replace it. “tch, noticed yer old one was all worn out, thought it was time for a new one. yer welcome.” your heart jumped, you never realized how much he truly payed attention to you. katsuki had went out of his way to get everything for you, on top of that decorating it to your liking. “thank you kats.”

“yea whatever.” he mumbled.

christmas couldn’t have gotten any better.

sweet request from @teddi1423 ♡!

— sorry if i’m lagging on reqs, i’ve been so busy this whole week & will continue to be until next week ! i promise to publish soon !

[its-avalon-08]

Hi! Could you please write something where reader and Lando have been together for a while and the hate never got to her until she saw a comment about her using Lando’s money and Lando never had a problem with it. But reader starts using her own money but she doesn’t have a lot of it and one day she misses a call from the bank and Lando answers it and finds out her funds are low and he put it together. Happy needing though where Lando reassures her that he loves her using his money.

what's mine is yours (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - gold digger tweets, money problems, tears, fluff

Lando and Y/N had always had an easygoing relationship. From the moment they met, things just clicked. They’d been inseparable for years, growing through the ups and downs of the racing world together. She was his anchor, and he was her biggest supporter. Despite the scrutiny from the public eye, their relationship was grounded in mutual respect and understanding. Lando always made sure she felt cherished, often indulging her with gifts, fancy dinners, and trips—but none of that ever really mattered to Y/N. She loved Lando, not his lifestyle.

Still, there was always an undercurrent of judgment from certain corners of social media, as there often is for the partners of famous athletes. Y/N had long trained herself to tune out the negative noise. But today was different.

Sitting on the couch while Lando was out at a sponsorship event, she scrolled through Twitter. It had been a typical day, filled with photos of the two of them that fans had posted, some sweet comments and, as usual, some not-so-sweet ones. She should’ve stopped scrolling when she saw a thread discussing her. But instead, her eyes caught on one tweet.

@SpeedyPaddock: "Does Y/N ever spend a single dollar of her own? I swear all I see is Lando footing the bill. She’s just another gold digger… probably why Lando doesn’t mind either, right? He’s got the money to throw around."

Her heart sank. Y/N stared at the screen, feeling her chest tighten. She had never thought of it that way—sure, Lando loved spoiling her, and she’d accepted his generosity because it made him happy. But was she really taking advantage of him?

She shook her head, trying to clear the heaviness settling in her chest. No, Lando would never think that. Yet, the words echoed in her mind, twisting her perception. What if other people thought the same thing? What if they saw her as nothing more than someone who used Lando’s wealth to get by?

I can't do this anymore, she decided. She wasn’t going to be seen that way. From now on, she'd stop using any of Lando’s money. She wouldn’t tell him—it wasn’t his fault, and she didn’t want to burden him with her insecurities.

Y/N sighed, putting her phone away, her mind already racing with ways to distance herself from his lavish spending. This wasn't about them, it was about her.

time skip

The shift was subtle at first. Y/N stopped suggesting they go out to fancy dinners or buy anything extravagant. She even started paying for smaller things—coffee, groceries, or an Uber here and there. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to their favorite restaurants or enjoy the life they’d built together, but she didn’t want to add fuel to the assumptions people were making online. Every time Lando offered to cover something, she’d smile and politely insist on taking care of it herself.

Lando, oblivious to what was going on in her head, didn’t think much of it at first. He’d tease her with a grin, “Trying to outdo me, are you?” And she’d laugh it off, hiding the unease in her heart.

But as the weeks passed, the strain began to show. Y/N wasn’t rich—not by Lando’s standards, not by any stretch. Her savings weren’t endless, and the more she tried to maintain this facade of independence, the more she found herself running low on funds. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up, but the thought of being seen as a "gold digger" kept pushing her forward.

One afternoon, as Lando was lounging on the couch, Y/N’s phone rang. She was out picking up some last-minute groceries, and without thinking, Lando picked it up when he saw the caller ID—her bank.

"Hello, this is Lando. I’m answering for Y/N."

The bank representative, not knowing any different, politely responded, "Hello, sir. We were just calling to inform Ms. Y/L/N that her account balance is quite low, and we’ve noticed a few declined transactions recently. We recommend a transfer or deposit soon to avoid further issues."

Lando’s face dropped, confusion swirling through his mind. "Uh, okay. I’ll let her know. Thank you." He hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, piecing things together.

When Y/N returned home, she found Lando sitting on the edge of the couch, her phone in his hand, a serious expression on his face.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asked, setting the groceries down.

He looked up, his blue eyes soft but concerned. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Y/N froze. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Tell you what?"

"The bank called. They said your account’s low… and that there have been some declined transactions. Y/N, why are you doing this?" His voice was gentle but filled with worry.

Her heart sank. "Lando, I—" She trailed off, not sure how to explain. The tweet flashed in her mind again, and she could feel the walls closing in.

Lando stood up and walked over to her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Talk to me. Please."

She exhaled slowly, her voice trembling. "I saw a comment a few weeks ago… someone said I was just using your money. That I’m a gold digger and that you don’t care because you can afford it. It got to me, Lando. I didn’t want people to think that I’m only with you for your money. So, I started using my own… but I didn’t realize how fast it would run out."

Lando’s expression softened even more, his brow furrowing as he pulled her into a hug. "Oh, Y/N…"

She buried her face into his chest, feeling the weight of her decision catch up with her. "I didn’t want to tell you because it wasn’t your fault. It’s just stupid people online. But I didn’t want to be seen that way."

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. "Listen to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re with me because you love me, and I love you. It’s never been about money, and it never will be."

"But—" she started, but he cut her off gently.

"No, but. I want to spoil you. I want to take you to nice places, buy you things, and make you happy. That’s what people do when they love each other. It doesn’t mean you’re using me. You’re not a gold digger, Y/N. You’ve never been." He kissed her forehead softly. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not to me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, not from sadness, but from relief. She’d been carrying this burden for so long, and now, hearing Lando say those words, it felt like the weight had been lifted. "I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you."

"I know you, Y/N," he whispered. "You could never do that. I love you, and I love sharing my life with you. That includes my money, okay? We’re a team. Whatever’s mine is yours."

Y/N nodded, tears spilling over as she smiled softly. "I love you too, Lando. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner."

He wiped her tears away with his thumb, smiling back. "Don’t be. Just promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked.

"Promise me you won’t listen to those idiots online. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we have."

Y/N let out a soft laugh. "I promise."

Lando grinned, pulling her into another tight hug. "Good. Now, let’s go out tonight. My treat. And before you say anything, it always will be."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, the tension finally easing between them. "Fine. But I’m picking the place."

"Deal."

[emilys-bangs]

my sleepless night, my winless fight | e.p

Tags: established relationship, fluff, use of petnames, no use of yn, sleep deprived emily, this is so soft omg

Summary: Emily can't sleep. She comes and joins you on the couch, hoping to find sleep with you.

Word count: 1.3k

You’re on the couch, reading with the lights dimmed, when Emily shuffles in. She’s wrapped herself in a midnight blue blanket, her hair trapped under it as she plops down next to you and immediately curls into your side.

“Aw, hey.” You greet, setting your book face-down on the couch next to you. Your girlfriend is painted golden in the soft light of the lamps; you smile at the shadows of her lashes on her cheeks. She shifts to sit sideways onto your lap, just like you knew she would. “Does my little baby want a snuggle?” You coo, your arm automatically hooking around her waist to keep her close.

“Shut up,” Emily mutters, her words holding no weight with the way she burrows into you. Her nose nuzzles under your jaw, her legs spreading over your lap; the tips of her socked toes nudge against your book.

“Mmm, you’re just like Sergio,” you whisper, threading your fingers through her soft hair. It’s trapped beneath her blanket so you free it, letting it spill down her shoulders in waves of black. “I live with two clingy cats, it seems.”

“It seems like you want your clingy privileges revoked.” Emily shoots back, her voice muffled into your skin. You stifle a shiver at the vibration of it, warm and rich through your body. The skin of your neck loses its warmth as Emily comes out of her hiding spot, half-heartedly glaring at you with gold swirling in her eyes.

“No, your highness, I’m sorry,” you say solemnly, tucking your hand into the burrito she’s made herself into and searching for her own hand, freeing it and bringing it to your lips. Her knuckles are cold, and you make your kiss linger. “Stay here as long as you like, baby.” Your voice is soft this time, sincere, and Emily doesn’t even protest the nickname. 

Her fingers curl around yours. She smiles, soft half moons curving in her cheeks. “You can be sweet when you’re not being a little fuck.”

You grin, “Ditto.”

Emily pokes her tongue out and you chase away the petulant expression with a kiss, your playful dispute dissolving with a sigh. Her cold hand—how is she always cold?—cups your face, fingers parting around your ear and pulling you down into her. Your neck cranes, your back protests, but her lips are the sweetest balm, soft and tasting like the purplish blue of frustration.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask against her mouth.

“No,” she grumbles. Her lips brush yours and she takes them in another kiss, slow and unhurried like she’s trying to soothe herself to sleep. You let her have it, tangling your fingers in her hair and gently scraping your nails against her scalp while she presses soft kisses to your mouth. 

Eventually her breath puffs across your chin in a low inhale. Emily leans back into your arm, trusting you to hold her weight as she rests her head on your shoulder.

“Keep me company?” You skim your knuckles along her pale cheek.

Emily’s mouth pinches at your unnecessary question. “Why else would I have come here, then?”

“Smartass,” you chide lovingly. “Just answer the question. God, you’re cranky when you’re sleep deprived.”

Suddenly her brows knit together. “Don’ mean to be. Sorry, amor.” She whispers, her eyes turning doe-like with regret.

“Quit that,” you murmur, gently kissing the tip of her nose to show her it’s alright. She’s not convinced, so you kiss her frown; the scrunch loosens beneath your lips. “We both know I’m just as bad when I’m hungry. ’Least this you can’t help.”

“I just don’t know why.” Emily huffs, a frustrated pout curling her lips downward. “I’m so tired and I’ve been trying for hours, I just wanna sleep already.” Her voice is the tiniest bit whiny, but with the dark circles under her eyes, you think it’s justified.

It breaks your heart to see her like this.

You nudge her off you. “Here, scooch a little.”

Emily frowns deeper. “You’re kicking me off?” She sulks.

“No.” You kiss the tip of her nose. “Just get up a little, you’ll see what I wanna do.”

She does so reluctantly, retracting her legs from your lap and standing up. As you situate yourself on the long end of the couch, she watches while chewing on her lip, her eyes bleary as she toys with the edges of her blanket. 

You place two pillows behind you and spread your legs straight, adjusting your book next to you before holding your hand out for Emily. She takes it and you tug until she reaches the edge of the couch. You tug again and she gets the hint, carefully climbing on your lap—on top of you, really.

It takes a few seconds before she adjusts herself, slipping an arm around your waist and fitting a knee between yours. When she stops shifting you ask, “Comfy?” into her hairline.

“Yeah,” Emily whispers. “Thanks, dolcezza.”

“You’re welcome.” You kiss her forehead. You wrap your own arm around her back, securing her and her fuzzy blanket to your chest. “Just stay here with me, alright? You’ll get bored enough that you might fall asleep anyway.”

“Never bored when I’m with you,” she murmurs into your neck. Her lashes are wispy on your skin, ticklish as she blinks.

A smile tugs at your lips. “Ah, cranky Emily is gone, time for lovergirl Emily?” You pick up your book again, holding it open with one hand and keeping the other on Emily’s back. “Welcome back, sweetheart, I missed you.”

Emily sighs into your neck; you can’t tell if it’s frustrated or not. “You really are somethin’.” She says, her voice like warm honey.

Regardless, you kiss her forehead. “You are, too, babe.” Of its own accord, your hand slips into her hair again. Emily sighs as you lightly drag your nails over her scalp, the warmth of her breath sinking into your neck.

“Read to me?”

“Sure.”

As you open up Jane Eyre, your eyes skimming the passages you’d read countless times, a thought comes to you.

“Hey, Em?” You rake your fingers through her hair.

“Hmm?”

“You know, you remind me an awful lot of Jane.”

A small, huffed laugh escapes her. Emily’s hand slips under your shirt, finding your warm skin underneath. “Why’s that?” She asks softly. Her voice is close to drowsy, so you make sure to continue your rhythmic scratching along her scalp.

“I’m not sure. Think it’s ’cause she’s so blunt. Makes me laugh.” You kiss her hairline, gently trying to nudge her into sleep.

“Honesty is a virtue.” She replies. “One I definitely have.”

“One you definitely do.” You agree. “Can I read now?”

“I wasn’t the one who interrupted you,” she retorts.

“Okay, well, hush. The sound of the dressing-bell dispersed the party.” You begin. Your voice is hardly the most melodic, but you try anyway. “It was not till after dinner that I saw him again: he then seemed quite at his ease.”

As you continue reading, Emily grows heavier on top of you. The circles she’d been rubbing on your stomach start to slow, then they cease entirely as her breath evens out. You still continue reading out loud, your voice a low whisper, still continuing to play with her hair long after she’s gone to sleep.

When drowsiness starts to force your own eyes closed, you fold the corner of the page and toss the book somewhere on the couch. Emily doesn’t stir and you wrap both arms properly around her now. She’s warm enough that you don’t need an added blanket despite the winter, and you brush your lips along her forehead in another kiss, your whisper of, goodnight gone unanswered.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[atyourmerci]

Softdom!abby X plus sized insecure reader ♡

Abby painting all the things she loves about your body

CW: smut, MDNI, softdom!abby, sub!reader, plussized!reader, reader is anxious, me making up shit ab artistry, face sitting, fingering, mult orgasms

♡ ♡

In your sun kissed painting room, abby lies against your velvet couch, her blonde hair glowing against her pale flesh. She often modeled for all of your class assignments so she was used to her spotlight.

She loved watching you at work, so concentrated as you perfected your craft. She would do anything for you, she just wanted to help her beautiful girl.

As your eyes are trained on the majority of a blank canvas you zone in on creating your base, knowing your girlfriend would stay still so you can get your perfect shot.

“Why don’t you ever let me pain you?” Is heard from behind the white canvas propped up on your easel.

It caught you so off guard your head peaks around the board to look at your girlfriend. hmmm? Comes out as an honest confusion.

She giggles to herself at how locked in you truly were, “why don’t I ever paint you?” She reiterates.

You giggle back at her question, “because you can’t paint for shit,” you toy with her playfully.

“And what if I wanted to try huh, maybe I’m not using the right medium perhaps,” she comes back with a sophisticated air to her tone.

“Yeah yeah okay, just sit and look pretty,” you say getting back to your work when you hear a rustling, seeing her get up from the couch to approach you, “don’t move! That was a perfect-,” before you could finish her hands are wrapped around your stomach as she kisses the side of your face.

You can’t seem to protest with the naked woman behind you, touches of her sun soaked skin drenching you. You lean into it, letting her do as she pleased.

“I want to paint you,” she says in between peppering kisses down your neck. You giggle at her insistence, “baby I think we’ve been over th-,”

“No, no I want you paint on you,” she whispers into your ear as her hand cups your jaw gently.

“N-now? Right now?” You turn to face her, she had to be joking, right? Abby watches you with doe eyes, nodding back at you.

“But it’s bright in here,” you say averting your glance, the pit in your stomach growing with anxiety of the thought. Your nervous tick of flexing your fingers beginning, and abby notices.

Taking your palms into her own and rubbing circles with her thumbs on top of your hands in order to soothe you.

“I know. I want to admire every part of you. I want you to see what I see baby. Is that okay?”

A white tapestry lies beneath your barren body, stripped of all the confines and masks you build up to protect perception.

There’s no real reason to hide from abby. She adored every inch of you. Every marking on your body was akin to threads of gold to her.

Now tracing them with your paintbrushes, creating flowers from the stretch marks on your stomach, one of the biggest insecurities you had.

You once tried to hide them, turning around to change, avoiding mirrors that may give away your secrets. She’d trace them in the safety in the darkness, admiring your body for taking care of you, protecting you when she couldn’t.

As she aimlessly paints away at your flesh she admires her artwork, not the paint itself, but her own human body sculpted for her eyes. She rambles on about how you represent the body of a Greek goddess, full and radiant.

Her light touches, soft words, and longing glances sending you into the deepest form of arousal you’d ever known.

To be loved is to be seen

Beginning to form dainty flowers amongst the stretch marks in your inner thighs you couldn’t take it anymore, breath getting heavier, her mouth beginning to gape at your dripping arousal…so close to her touch.

“Please sit on my face,” she sounded depraved, as if she’d die without it.

“B-but the paint,” you breathe out, not giving a shit, but knowing there would be a mess.

“I don’t fucking care, please baby,” she pleas, gripping into the flesh of your thighs.

You’d never done this, allowed yourself that vulnerability. You’d berate your thoughts, always worrying you’d be too heavy. What if she thought you were too much, too heavy for her? Would it change her mind about you?

She guides you above your mouth, paint smearing across her cheeks. You begin at a hover, attempting to make yourself lighter, more palatable.

“Baby all of you, please I need you,” you hear from her, tugging on your thighs to sit comfortably on top of her.

A sigh of relief floods you, releasing the tension and submitting to her completely.

If she could have eaten you whole, she would have. Sloppily licking down your cunt, pressing down your thighs to get as close as she could.

She made you whine and shake till your tired limbs gave out, falling down onto her, letting your body rest completely. Planting kisses on your forehead while she runs her fingertips through your hair.

“Let me do the work this time, just lay there and look pretty,” she says gazing down at you with a grin, knowing she’s stealing your line.

Your body sprawled out on the cloth, completely revealed to her open-mouthed gaze, sun kissing your sweaty flesh.

Driving her fingers into you she can’t help but stare at your pretty mess, paint covered, soaking cunt all of her. “Look so fucking pretty like this,” she coos, sending your head back in pleasure.

The feeling of full liberation, complete autonomy over your body, at the hands of her.

‘mine mine my girl my fucking pretty girl’ she can’t stop herself from babbling, watching as her piece of art comes to life.

Even after you finish from her fingers she can’t stop looking, obsessed, utterly enthralled at the thought of getting the honor of fucking a goddess.

Dried paint chips away at your bodies as the sun goes down. Bare bodies lying there for hours. Maybe you’d never leave this moment.

[winged-self-indulgence]

🔞 Ray x GN!Reader, because I have been neglecting my man. sorry sweetie 🔞

“You’re being a terrible kidnapper by the way.”

Ray tilts his head idly, a sardonic smiles tilting the left corner of his lips at your words. His smirk is playful and dangerous. Knowing.

You lift your chin in mocking defiance from the couch where he’d placed you. It’s probably not as intimidating as you’d hoped considering the ropes binding your arms behind your back. Your legs are free, but it’s not like you could go anywhere. Even if you could somehow manage to escape Ray, his lair (“Please don’t call it that, Star.”) was located on the topmost floor of the tallest apartment building for miles around.

He leans against the glass window-walls that look down onto an ocean of shimmering city lights. Flashes of purples, reds, and gold are blanketed by a moonlit black velvet. The colours reflect off the edges of his face, sharpening gorgeous features and softening others. A cigarette dangles loosely from between long fingers, trailing an almost invisible thread of smoke up to his lips.

Lips that are now stretched in the most self-satisfied smirk you've ever seen.

“You’re staring, Star,” Ray taunts. You snap your head to the side, cursing mentally. You’re hyper-aware of Ray’s tall form as he moves closer, not stopping until he’s standing over your seated form. His free hand reaches up to caress your jaw, knuckles brushing the apples of your cheek. The cigarette is gone, but the scent clings to his skin – somehow warm and enticing – and you can’t quite stifle the urge to lean into his touch.

Fingertips trace your skin, rough pads mapping every spot he had claimed and memorized countless times before.

"Explain yourself," he murmurs, tilting your head up so you’re forced to meet those unfathomably dark eyes. "How am I a bad kidnapper, Star?"

You open your mouth to reply, nothing coming to mind for several seconds. It's as if his gaze is a black hole sapping you of your usual sass and wit. "Um, w-well...well what do you think you should do with me?"

Ray kneels in front of you, which does nothing to make you feel any more in control of this situation. Body still tightly bound, you can do nothing other than pout and writhe in place when he leans closer, lips brushing against your heated cheek.

"Oh, that's an easy one," the villain murmurs into your ear before he gently bites your earlobe. You squeak, barely able to hear his next words through the rush of blood in your veins. "I’d keep you all for myself. Lock you away where no one can find you except me."

Huffing, you manage to regain a bit of your mental faculties and lift your chin with a playful scowl. "Hmph, don't villains usually use traps to keep their victims in place? Iron cages, steel chains, etc.? Come on, Mr. No. 1 Most Wanted Villain, where's the showmanship? Did watching Megamind teach you nothing?!"

A laugh escapes Ray at your demand, a burst of mirth that has you fighting back matching snickers. One hand slides up your arm and, and he pulls you closer until your chest is flush with his. The other grabs you by the waist, tipping you off balance and pinning you to the couch.

"How's this for showmanship, Star?" Ray scoffs as he rakes over your prone form with carnal amusement. His hand leaves your hip, dipping beneath your shirt before tracing upwards and taking the fabric with it. Your nipples pebble in the cool air, vulnerable beneath those void-black eyes.

You’ve gotten a taste of Ray’s possessiveness before – several times in fact – but it never fails to stun you, to send heat rushing between your thighs every time you catch a glimpse of that depthless stare. The lengths he’s gone, that he would go to, for you. Especially after having cast off the NAHA’s paper-thin restrictions.

Fear would be the normal response, the expected emotional outcome. Yet when callused fingers pinch your nipples all you can do is moan.

"So whiny, Star,” Ray coos against your chest, teasing and tasting your buds until they’re bruised and sore. You scream when his mouth closes over the right one, tongue laving over swollen stiff peaks. “And so loud. Is this what you want, hm? You want me to ruin you?"

You can’t speak. The only thing that leaves your throat are helpless, wordless sounds. Ray clicks his teeth, and his hand slides up, applying just the slightest bit of pressure on your throat. A warning.

"What’s that Star?” The villain queries, voice dripping with false curiosity. “Isn’t this what you like? To be helpless under me, in my control. All for my own selfish pleasure? Come on sweetheart, speak up."

“Y-You wish!” you kick out your feet, but Ray simply cants his head to the side and catches your flailing ankle. When he wedges himself firmly between your thighs and hooks your legs over his shoulder, you realize what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

"You little brat…" Ray pushes your ankle further up on his shoulder, restricting you even more as he smirks down at you with a gentle yet terrifying arrogance. It is the look of a wolf watching a caged rabbit, a predator contemplating what to do with cornered prey. Pressing his taller frame against you, Ray’s free hand moves to your hip where the pointer finger dips past the edge of your underwear. It’s barely a brush, and yet the sensation makes your head spin. “Do I have to force it out of you, Star?”

You stubbornly bite your bottom lip, and Ray let out a helpless sigh as if to say, you asked for this.

“Mmph, R-Ray!” The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes in the room, desperate screams filling the air as you squirm and struggle to escape the steel-trap of Ray’s arms though you know it’s futile. “P-Please, m’sorry–!”

“If you’re so sorry, then stay still,” he grunts, punctuating his words with a harsh thrust, one hard enough to jolt the couch several inches across the floor. Your neck and chest are a canvas of bruises and bite marks. Drool falls from the corner of your lips, filthy and messy. The sight of you underneath him, teary-eyed and begging for mercy, was intoxicating and the ex-hero can’t stop the dangerous smile that crosses his face.

Your body convulses as another orgasm shakes through you, the fifth in the past hour, and Ray groans when you squeeze around his cock. He pulls out to admire the sticky mess between your thighs, cum glazing your puffy hole in a lewd display.

Just as you’re catching your breath, Ray pinches your chin and drags your gaze back to meet his. “Uh-uh, we’re not done Star,” his grin widens at your stricken expression. “I want a proper apology, sweetheart. Now open your mouth and say ah.”

[sarawritestories]

Serenity Found

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: A quiet night in, causes the General of the Night Court to Reveal his true feelings to you.

Content Warning: None

Word count: 592

A/N: I'm sorry I keep promising things and not delivering. I'm juggling a lot and writing has been put to the back burner so much so I cried about it today. So here is a cute fluffy drabble for you. If you see any mistakes...no you didn't.

Dividers by the beautiful @tsunami-of-tears

ACOTAR MASTERLIST Taglist Request

The warmth from the flames in the library fought against the winter chill that had blanketed Velaris. Tucked into a blanket, your head finding purchase in the lap of your best friend, The General of the Night Court’s Armies. His fingers were idly gliding through your hair as he read his novel. Looking up at him for a moment; you were entranced by Cassian’s rugged beauty.

Illuminated by the fire crackling in the hearth, his face had a golden glow, his hair up in a bun, a few stray pieces framing his face that now held stubble after going days without shaving. His wings were relaxed against the couch. You fought the urge to press your thumb against the crease between his eyebrows as his Hazel irises focused on his book.  Unable to resist the urge much longer you reached up to do just that when his free hand gripped your wrist. “Knock it off.” His tone was light, and a smile appeared causing your heart to flutter. He resembled one of the old gods that Rhys’ mom would tell you about, handsome, kind and exudes raw power off his body. All those attributes describe your best friend of centuries. You were the moment he smiled at you and remained his when he had rescued you from the cruel fate of servitude. If only he realized he had your heart in the palm of his hands.

He remained unaware and you were left with a void in your heart the size of an Illyrian warrior.

The Mother was a cruel vixen.

“Sweetheart?” You blinked and noticed his smile had disappeared, replaced with a look of concern. “Where did you go?”

You smiled, “No where, I just missed you,” You turned back to your own book.

His hand grazed your arm, the soft scrap of his callouses against your skin, causing a shiver to race down your spine. “I promise to not be away for so long. I missed our reading nights. Being near you brings me such…”

“Serenity?” You glanced back to see him give a curt nod. Heat crept to your face at his admission, “Me too.”

Cassian’ lightly pulled your arm so you were facing him once more, “I have a confession to make.”

“Okay?” I rose from my spot to give him my full attention.

“Can I show you?” My head tilted, “Its better if I show you.”

You weren’t sure if your heart was beating, “Of course, Cassian. I trust you.”

Cassian’s Hazel’s eyes held your gaze with an intensity that wasn’t there a moment previously. “Good.” He cupped your face, and, in a moment, his lips were on yours. Quickly grip his waist in your hands he pulled you close. Pulling away before you could deepen the kiss, Cassian wraps a muscled arm around your waist and places his forehead to yours. “I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

“Cassian.” You whispered your chest warming as the gold thread tethered your soul to his. You pushed him slightly as if you could see the thing tethering you two together. “You’re my-

You looked up to find the General’s face morph from shock to pure happiness, “Mate. You’re mine.”

No longer fighting your urge you slid into his lap and peppered his stubbled face with kisses. “Yours. I’ve always been yours.”

And as the night went on you two sat in the library, in each other’s arms fast asleep. As two lonely souls morphed into one. Calmness falling between them as sleep consumed them.

Finding Serenity at last.

General Tag: @milswrites @lady-of-tearshed @tsunami-of-tears @readychilledwine @ceoofyearning

@velariscalling @daycourtofficial @prythianpages @writingcroissant @itsswritten

@illyrianbitch @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @nocasdatsgay @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars

@ninthcircleofprythian @thelov3lybookworm @riddlesb1tch @lilah-asteria

@kylaisra @nickishadow139 @aelincaddel @nighttimemoonlover @demirunner

@marvelbros-oneshots @lanea-1 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’ 

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 

Mrs. Farrow beamed. 

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.” 

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again. 

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 

She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 

So funny. 

… You felt funny. 

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 

The basket was gone. 

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 

The next second you were walking through your neighbors’ kitchen, the door held open for you. 

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 

“Oh no, thank you.” 

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 

‘Well that’s good.’ 

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 

“Hello there!”

[niteshade925]

April 13, Xi'an, China, Shaanxi Archaeology Museum/陕西考古博物馆 (Part 5 - Tang dynasty, Song dynasty, and later):

Happy Mid-Autumn to everyone!

First up is again an undisputed star of the museum, the gold crown of Li Zhui/李倕. Li Zhui was the 5th generation descendant of Li Yuan/李渊, aka Emperor Gaozong of Tang, the first emperor of Tang dynasty (618 - 907 AD). It's speculated that this crown was what the Tang-era term "轻金冠" (lit. "light gold crown") was referring to. The crown itself wasn't just gold, however, it also had parts of silver, copper, and iron, decorated with pearls, mother of pearl, agate, turquoise, rubies, amber, ivory, and glass.

And it wasn't just a crown either. There were other pieces that were part of her outfit:

Various Tang-era gold and silver thread embroidery pieces found in the crypt of Famen Temple/法门寺, the plaque is visible in many of these so I won't be naming them all. There's a saying among Chinese archaeologists: "dry things last a thousand years, wet things last ten-thousand years, half-wet half-dry things last half a year" ("干千年，湿万年，不干不湿就半年"). This refers to the conditions the artifacts/remains were in over time, stable conditions usually preserve artifacts and remains better than changing conditions. Fabric-based artifacts are notoriously hard to preserve, especially in Xi'an's "half-wet half-dry" climate, so these are a rare sight:

Note that the bird and flower design on the right is actually not an embroidery, but designs woven straight into the fabric:

The gold threads used in these embroideries were made by wrapping long strips of gold foil around thread through the turning of these hook-shaped tools.

The gold threads produced from the above process were mainly used in two ways, either woven into the fabric (top), or embroidered onto fabric (bottom). The kind of embroidery here is called cujinxiu/蹙金绣, which uses gold threads and a technique that is similar to couching

Models of the microscopic structure of different types of silk fabric found in Famen Temple. In common usage today, the term sha/纱 often refers to light, almost see-through polyester fabrics, but in the past this term refers exclusively to a type of light silk fabric. However, the other ones listed here (ling/绫, luo/罗, juan/绢, jin/锦) almost always refer to silk fabrics.

Different types of motifs/patterns found on artifacts throughout time. Left is the evolution of juancaowen/卷草纹 ("curled plant motif") from Tang dynasty to Jin dynasty (1115 - 1234). Right is the evolution of lianhuawen/莲花纹 ("lotus flower motif") from Northern Song dynasty (960 - 1127) to Yuan dynasty (1206 - 1368).

Left: evolution of juhuawen/菊花纹 ("chrysanthemum flower motif") from Tang dynasty to Yuan dynasty. Right: evolution of mudanwen/牡丹纹 ("moutan peony motif") from Tang dynasty to Yuan dynasty, and the evolution of youyuwen/游鱼纹 ("swimming fish motif") from Northern Song dynasty to Yuan dynasty.

This is another one of my personal favorites, a Ming dynasty (1368 - 1644) bronze vessel with cloisonné enamel (called 掐丝珐琅 or jingtailan/景泰蓝 in Chinese). This type of vessel is called a gui/簋.

Song-era green-glazed porcelain from Yaozhou Kiln Site (耀州窑), so it's called yaoci/耀瓷 for short. This particular style is made by carving designs onto the piece before glazing and firing. I have attempted something similar when I took that wheelthrowing class years ago, but I failed lol

A Northern Song-era stone dui/敦 from the tomb of Lü Dalin/吕大临. The calligraphy here is in kaishu/楷书 script.

Also from the tomb of Lü Dalin, the left is a wine flagon with a dedicated holder used to warm the entire vessel along with the wine inside. The right is a incense burner with a swastika on top. Note that swastikas are very common in Chinese Buddhism, and is taken to mean "myriad" or "infinity" (the swastika is pronounced wan/萬, which literally means "ten-thousand", the figurative way of saying "infinity" in Chinese).

The process of making tea in Song dynasty, called diancha/点茶, which generally involves these steps: grinding the tea into a powder, sifting the tea powder, putting tea powder into a tea cup, pouring in hot water, and whisking the tea with a chaxian/茶筅 to create a light foam before drinking. In Song dynasty, the literati would hold contests among themselves to see who could make the perfect tea using the diancha method. This complex and time/effort consuming method was gradually phased out within China by the time of Ming dynasty, but deeply influenced Japanese tea making methods.

Left: a small porcelain piece depicting a mother lion and cub. The Chinese depiction of lions, called shi/狮, largely comes from a combination of the mythological suanni/狻猊, and the rare real lions that were given to China as gifts in the past. Right: a pottery dragon from Yuan dynasty, if I remembered correctly.

Also the previous part on Han dynasty (202 BC - 220 AD) artifacts was getting way too long, so I put these two pictures here at the end. In ancient China, many round coins had a square hole in the middle, and these holes were used to string the coins up for easier storage and counting. Such strings of coins are called minqian/缗钱, and this is why the quantifier for coins in ancient China is usually chuan/串, guan/贯, or diao/吊. In usage, chuan is not a strict quantifier, but 1 guan or diao = 1000 coins.

A modern recreation of a Han-era painted lacquer box, this red pattern on black background look is very characteristic of Han-era painted lacquerware:

Painted pottery statue of a Buddhist deva:

The painted wall murals of a Yuan dynasty tomb, viewed from below:

And this concludes the posts for Shaanxi Archaeology Museum! The next museum (also the last one) will be Shaanxi History Museum, specifically the new Qin-Han dynasties museum.

[angelicpoison12]

silky smoke ✧˖°.

Adam decides to share a blunt with you, his tour manager. things take a spicy turn when he gets a boner <3

wordcount: 1.6K

CW: 420 USE (Adam gets stoned LMAO)

tags: stoned blowjob, 420 use, Adam smokes while you suck his dick, rockstar!Adam, sloppy French kissing, thigh riding, you get off using Adam’s thigh! <3, (mild) praise kink, gn!reader, afab!reader

NSFW, 18+ ☆

you really need to learn how to tell Adam 'no'.

it's not your fault that the venue owners enforced the 'no smoking' rule so much. but with how much Adam was bitching and moaning, you decided to give in, hoping he'd shut up long enough for you to count the ticket costs and earnings of tonight's performance.

"baaaabeee... c'mere, hit this with me," Adam said with a giggle, smirking at you. he had taken off his mask, and his amber eyes were droopy, the whites a little pink. they were half lidded, his hands holding his bong as he began sucking up the white smoke. he had a silver zippo lighter lighting the cush, the water bubbling like a witch's brew in his bong. you smiled at him playfully. you weren't one to smoke; so you'd let him have his fun. "no, i'm fine, Adam.. but thanks. go on and enjoy yourself," you told him kindly, continuing to count the cash from the box in your lap. "fuck yeah! more for me," Adam laughed greedily. his bong was simple, but really cool. it was a regular glass bong that had little stars imprinted into the glass, almost in a 3D design, so you could run your fingers over the stars and feel the ridges of them. the glass was colored gold, and Adam went the extra mile to cut into his mask, allowing him to smoke with it on.

after just two hits, he was fucking gone. Adam was laying back on the venue couch, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at the ceiling, and he was making soft motions at everything. you had finished counting the earnings, so you decided to sit beside him. you had never seen Adam so stoned before, so this was kind of a funny sight.

"Adam, do you need anything?" you asked, gently running your fingers through his hair, threading the locks. he shrugged, making a soft noise as he put his head in your chest, his nose right in your sternum. you couldn't resist blushing at the sensation. "do you want a snack?" he shrugged, nonverbal. oh my god he was adorable. "some water? is your throat dry?" Adam immediately perked up and nodded, his lips a little parted. he began pressing his moist lips to your chest, leaving some wet marks on your shirt.

you blushed more at that, your cheeks the shade of raspberries. "okay you little manchild, let me get you some water, okay?" you said with a smirk. Adam huffed when he realized that meant you had to get up. with a pout, he moved aside, letting you get up.

you came back a few minutes later with a water from a vending machine outside of the venue. you were glad that you had the door locked, thankfully keeping the stench of Adam's stash inside. you knew that he'd never be allowed to play a show here again if the owners knew just how much of a loser pothead he was.

Adam took a few sips of the water, sighing dramatically before putting it down. he seemed a little more on Earth now. "fuck, i needed that.. thanks babe," he said. the petname made you look away, biting your lip. it wasn't out of the ordinary for Adam to call you cheeky nicknames casually; but you couldn't deny the rush it made you feel between your thighs.

"hm, there is one thing i still need though." "what, a bag of chips? a beer?" you asked, a joking sense of sarcasm dragging in your voice. "nah. although, a bag of Funyuns don't sound too bad right now..." Adam said thoughtfully, a hand lifting to rub the stubble on his chin. "i was gonna ask for some sloppy head. buttttt, i dunno, i think the chips are just as goo-"

oh, you were on your knees before Adam even finished his stupid request.

"shut up.." you muttered, undoing Adam's pants. you had to unbuckle his heavy studded belt, starting to unzip the denim fabric. "that's it. i knew you'd drop to your knees, fuckin' always eager to please, huh?" Adam asked with a cocky grin. he grabbed his bong again, pushing down some of the burnt bowl, knowing he could get at least one more hit out of it.

you huffed at his antics, but your cheeks were still flushed. you bit your lip, tugging his pants down to reveal his boxers. they were black and had little gold stars on them, cute. his dick was straining against the soft material, his tip leaking already, making a wet patch in the see-through material. "fuck babe, already drooling for my cock, huh? go on and get it out, do what you were born for." Adam said with a smirk, starting to flick open his lighter again. he reached lazily for his mask, putting it back on. he knew you enjoyed watching the smoke pour of it when he was getting stupid like this.

your tongue met the tip, and a hiss left Adam. you had always told yourself, and your parents, that you'd never fall for such a loser. a stereotypical frattish punk that could easily crush your heart from another girl (or guy, he was just that hot) if he really wanted to. Adam hadn't yet... so maybe you were in the clear? or were you just a little more special than any other fuck he had come across in his many years of touring and playing in dirty, dark venues?

Adam started to suck more smoke, humming as he did so. your mouth took in his length, your tongue swirling along the tip, your hands gripping his thick thighs. you glanced up, watching as Adam began to exhale. the white smoke began cascading out of his mask, the sight almost making you cum right then and there, untouched. it came out of the mouth portion, as well as around his eye mesh, and he was smirking at you, a hand coming down to pet your hair. "so good f'me.." he groaned, starting to slowly but surely thrust in and out of your mouth, making you choke a little at the impact. "relax, baby. just breathe.."

this was different from his usual movements. since Adam was stoned, they were sloppy, but.. soft? yeah, soft. as if he was intentionally being gentle. you liked it though. you preferred this since last time you nearly threw up on his dick (he was not happy about that).

"fuck.. babe, i'm gonna cum," Adam warned, his head tipped back, the horns of his mask digging into the couch. you movements got a little faster, the tip constantly hitting your uvula, making tears well up in your eyes. "look at me, babe. look at me when i cum in your mouth." you obeyed quicker than a snap. your eyes gazed up at him as if he were a deity.

the way you looked at him, your tongue, the hollowing of your cheeks, the drool dripping down your chin-it was all too much for Adam. he came with a shaky groan, his hips bucking into your mouth, forcing his semen down your gullet. you tried to squirm away, but Adam was a dick, so he kept your head down with his large hands. they were so big that they nearly took up your entire skull, the rings on his fingers fat and the gems digging into your scalp. the sting merely added to it all, making you moan and choke.

Adam finally let you come up when he felt you swallow, sighing and huffing, catching his breath as if he'd just spent the last five minutes sprinting for his life. "damn, all out already?" you asked playfully, tucking his flaccid cock back into his pants, zipping them back up. "it's tiring being me." Adam remarked, pouting. he took his mask back off, his forehead covered in sweat, hair wet from it as well. he patted his lap, inviting you up.

you got up in Adam's lap, squeaking when his hands were on your hips, guiding you back and forth on his thigh, making your eyes go cloudy as you clasped a hand over your mouth. "don't be shy, baby. i know you need to get off too.. you're fuckin' soaking my thigh, baby. that little pussy's jus' purrin' for me, hm?" fuck, his words were making you weak.

your feverish humping began. you were doing it with no shame. in fact, you were giving it your all, knowing Adam liked the show. you cupped his face, kissing him, the two of you closing your eyes. you felt your tongues tenderly caressing, the silky flesh making you melt. one of Adam's hands came up to caress your chest, squeezing and fondling the flesh, making you keen.

"cum for me, baby. it's okay babe, i've got jeans in the bus, i can just change when we get to the hotel.." Adam sweetly whispered, continuing to tonguefuck your mouth, making you shake. you came on his thigh, shaking and mewling like a pathetic little kitten, clinging to him. "shh, fuck babe.. fuckin' stained my jeans." Adam chuckled, dipping his fingers down to rub your thighs, bringing his digits back to his lips to taste you. he kissed you again, both hands sliding down to cup your ass.

you knew he'd only continue when you got to the hotel for the next show...

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

my sweet little snowflake buddies!

@6esiree , @frxstwalker, @cosmiiwrites

[beansprean]

time for exposition? no, time to look at him in his cute new outfit!

My Familiar’s Ghost Part 66

Masterpost

See new pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of vampire Guillermo sitting on a couch for a talking head. He is wearing black chinos, a red v-neck knit sweater with gold threading around the cuffs and neck, a gray and white button up with a heart pattern, black bat-shaped collar clips with gold trim and a gold chain, and new round glasses with gold arms and nose bridge. The lower third reads "Guillermo de la Cruz" with 'de la Cruz' crossed out followed by "The Great, New Vampire." Guillermo grins widely at the camera, fangs on full display, and holds his hands out in a ta-da pose. He says, "Sooo... I'm a vampire! For real!! I can fly, I can turn into a bat, and I even got to move into a real bedroom! Guillermo the Great is excited to get started on eternity!" 1b. Repeat, smaller panel. Guillermo sits with a giddy little smile, fists clenched excitedly over his lap, as he listens to the director offscreen who asks "So you don't have any memories of what your body was doing while you were separated?" 1c. Repeat. Guillermo drops his hands to his thighs and looks upward, smile turning a bit self-depreciating. He answers, "Um. No... I assume it was a lot of slaughtering, so. No loss, right?" 1d. Large panel, Guillermo waist-up in the bottom corner as his gaze goes far away, smile still in place but a little bit sad. Slightly embarrassed. He says, "I remember doing the ritual with Nadja and... reaching out... and then I don't know. I think I was dreaming. I woke up in the fancy room and... I was back! And a vampire!" Behind him are faded flashes of previous events: Nadja and Dolly sitting at the table while they explain the ritual; Guillermo and his soul reaching hands out to each other; Guillermo and his soul, who has taken the form of Nandor, pressing their palms together; the traffic light smashing to the ground and turning red; Guillermo pulling Nandor up into a kiss.

2a. Zoom out, Guillermo sitting on the couch. Offscreen, the director asks, "You don't think you're a ghost possessing a vampire?" Guillermo quickly straightens, head popping up and fingers lacing together over his lap. He replies, "I considered that! But possession feels different. When I was possessing objects in the house, it was like putting on a coat. I was me inside something else." 2b. Close up on Guillermo, the background turning into a softer version of his ghostly blue. He presses both hands to his chest and closes his eyes with a contented smile, continuing, "Now, I feel...complete." 2c. Zoom out again, angle slightly further left. Guillermo furrows his brow with a slight frown, one hand dropping to his lap and the other gesturing vaguely in the air as he explains, "I didn't realize how much not having a soul empties you out. But I've reconnected to it now, somehow, and to...um. Well." 2d. Close up on Guillermo as the director offscreen finishes his sentence: "Nandor?" Guillermo glowers darkly in response, shadows taking over his face as the background turns into rolling black clouds with angry strikes of lightning. /end ID

[jessmaybank]

Right here - Rafe Cameron

Based on the song Right here by Chase Atlantic

Outer banks x chase atlantic masterlist

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Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.4k

Summary: in which a secret friends with benefits relationship gets messy.

Warnings: drug use (weed), swearing, SMUT, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, nipple play, oral (f receiving).

AN: lots of mutual pining, teasing, jealousy & angst. friends to lovers. This is easily my fave thing I’ve ever written. Flashbacks are in italics, enjoy!

I'm so far from the line, yeah

I'm too deep in my mind, yeah

If she calls, I'll be right there

That's three calls in a night, yeah

“Hey” she says quietly, phone pressed to her ear as she answers his call in the middle of the night, something she still hadn’t quite grown accustomed too yet. her voice sounded so delicate and sweet, it made Rafe’s head rush.

This was the third call she had received from him this week, and it always ended the same. Each time she would tell herself that it was the last, but here she was, tangled within her lilac sheets, unable to let the call go to voicemail. She always seemed to bend her rules when it came to him.

“Hey. Did I wake you up?” He asks, voice tainted with something that sounded like concern, but she wasn’t quite sure. Rafe wasn’t exactly known for his ability to emphasise with others. Rather, his actions were always driven by his own selfish wants and needs, and he was extremely stubborn. That was was something which she learnt the day their arrangement started.

“Rafe, I swear to god, move. I shotgunned the couch” she said, arms crossed as her lips move into a small pout, her doe eyes hard to miss.

Rafe thought the expression was nothing less than adorable, observing the way her eyebrows were furrowed slightly to be more convincing, hoping to get some sympathy out of him. But despite the frown on her face, he knew she was biting back a smile. She liked being teased just as much as he liked teasing her.

The corners of his mouth upturned into an amused grin, something which should of annoyed her further, but it didn’t. Instead, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from matching his expression.

They were at toppers house, in the midst of a party which had just began to die down, the crowds of young adults sprawled around the large living room getting smaller by the minute. She had no intention of going home anytime soon, and neither did he.

“Not anymore, angel” he says, manspreading on the couch to get comfortable, but also just as a way to tease her further. But once again, the familiar nickname he picked for her, and only her, made it near impossible for her to be mad at him.

They had been friends for a long time now, so in theory she should have been used to it, but she just wasn’t. Every time the word left his cherry red lips, she felt like a giddy teenager again.

She sighs in defeat, tugging on one of the loose threads of his hoodie which he gave her, one of the many endearing gestures which made all the constant teasing seemingly tolerable.

“Stop being greedy and just sit next to me” he says, patting the empty space next to him. His shiny gold rings that decorated his fingers were a stark contrast to the dim light which began to engulf the room as it grew later into the night, and she began to wonder how one mans hands could be so attractive.

Maybe she was being greedy for wanting the whole couch to herself, but she was not about to be criticised by Rafe Cameron himself. He was quite literally the epitome of greed, even if she failed to recognise that sometimes, her delusion towards him a symbol of her naive nature.

She pretended to hesitate before sitting down on the couch next to him, the smell of her sweet perfume invading his senses, throwing him off track. She was the only person who could make his nonchalant nature falter so easy, and the feeling was so unfamiliar to him he almost felt uneasy whenever she was near.

Every time Topper threw a party, she had an end-of-night tradition. She would sprawl across the expensive couch with a blanket, smoke the pre-rolled joint she would bring with her every time, and slowly become one which the couch, her body melting into the white leather. Luckily, Toppers parents were gone for the week this time, so she had permission to smoke inside.

She turned her body, leaning her back against the armrest of the couch, before draping her legs over Rafe’s lap. They weren’t exactly used to such affections at this stage in their relationship, but she was a bit tipsy, and she certainly wasn’t going to let him stop her from getting comfy.

Her squeaky clean converse dug into his thigh a little, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sent her a glare, and he prayed he put on a good enough of a show to convince her it was real.

“What? I warned you” she said, shifting slightly to retrieve the blanket which was hung on the back of the couch, throwing it over them both.

Rafe placed his hands under the blanket and rested them on her legs, just below her knees, the evening breeze coming through the windows seemingly prevalent. He was a bit cold in his t-shirt, but he would never dare to ask for his hoodie back. He noted how warm she felt as his fingers brushed the bare skin of her legs, and suddenly he wanted to bury his head between them.

She dug her dainty hands into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a slightly crumpled joint and a dodgy lighter. Her manicured pink nails made her hands look so fragile, and Rafe couldn’t fathom how one girls hands could be so fucking cute.

She lights the joint, the flame lighting up her face in an orange tint, the warm hue painted over her features a perfect picture to him. He watched as she inhaled and exhaled again and again, and it dawned on him then that he could watch her do anything, and he would never get bored.

“Sharing is caring, angel” he says, placing his hand out in front of her. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small grin which graced her lips, her sweetness practically radiating off her as she passed him the joint, captivated in the way he inhaled before blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the living room, blurring their vision slightly.

Weed always made Rafe a little more touchy than usual. When he’s sober, his anxiety is always apparent in his tensed muscles or his clenched jaw, or the way he always runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed out. But as soon as marijuana was flowing through him, his mind relaxed, and so did his body.

he’s pretty dazed by the time he passes the joint back. He digs his hands under the blanket once again, running the tips of his fingers innocently across her thighs, relishing in her smooth skin. but the feeling it caused her was anything but innocent.

“Do you mind?” She says, her voice betraying her as it came out shaky. He turned his head, and when she saw the mischievous glint which lay behind his bloodshot eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

He had to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue to suppress a grin. He thought her flustered state was completely endearing, and he loved knowing the effect he had on her. “Am I distracting you, angel?”

“No” yes.

She hoped she was convincing, but he could see right through her, mostly as he observed the way she drew in a sharp breath as his hands travelled further and further up her leg, her skin tingling at his touch.

“You see, I don’t believe you” he smirks, shifting towards her, his hand stopping right at the hem of her denim mini skirt, fingers dipping under the material ever so slightly, as if he was daring himself to go even further.

“Rafe” she whispers. fuck. His name had never sounded so pretty until it came out of her mouth.

She took another hit of the joint, trying to distract herself from his dirty little games. But the higher she got, the more she melted into his touch.

She sent him a half-hearted pleading look, one which should of convinced him to back away, but unfortunately for her, he could read her like his favourite book, and the way her legs squirmed on top of him, parting ever so slightly, gave him all the confirmation he needed.

His fingers dipped under her skirt, the cold metal of his rings grazing the top of her thigh, cooling down her burning skin. She looked around, making sure no one was paying attention, and relaxed a little when she noticed everyone left was either passed out or too engrossed in conversation to notice either of them.

His lips parted as he made contact with her clothed pussy, coming to the realisation her lace underwear was soaked. His shorts tightened as his cock grew rock hard, and he prayed she couldn’t feel it under her legs, but of course she could.

Her legs squirmed once again as he started toying with her clothed clit, her calf’s rubbing right against his cock, and he swore she was hell-bent on torturing him.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand dove into her underwear, running his fingers up her folds, almost groaning as he felt her arousal. The heavy pants coming from her glossy lips were drowned out by the music which played from toppers speaker, and suddenly Rafe wished the room was silent.

The joint fell from her fingers and onto the blanket as he inserted two fingers inside of her, the pit of her stomach heating up as pleasure flows through her, sinking her body further into the couch.

He retrieved the joint with his free hand before it burnt a hole in the blanket, taking a hit before putting the roach into the ash tray next to him. She was shocked at how nonchalant he looked, pretending as if his fingers weren’t inside of her as they sat in a room with all of their friends, at risk of being caught at any moment.

He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, in awe of the way she struggled to keep her eyes open, the bloodshot whites in her eyes making her look even more fucked out. He draped his free arm on the back of the couch as he continued to finger fuck her with his other, and when their eyes met, electricity shot down her spine, entranced by his blown out pupils.

she lifted the blanket to cover her mouth as moans threatened to spill out of her, her legs now spread for him underneath the soft material. He didn’t care that they weren’t alone, he didn’t like the fact she wanted to hide her face from him.

He shakes his head slightly, tutting as he brings his free arm down, pulling the blanket from her face before cupping her jaw. “Let me see you” he said, his voice steady. And as she bit her lip to suppress a whimper, pussy clenching around his fingers, he knew he was in trouble.

“No, I can’t seem to sleep” she says, voice quiet through the phone, but he heard her clearly.

“I’ve been thinking about you today. Can you come over?” he says, and her eyes shut in defeat.

He would always do this, call her up and sweet talk her into coming over so they could fuck. Rafe never gave any of his feelings away, living up to his fuck boy reputation, and so everytime she would leave his house, thinking she was nothing but a warm body to him, she swore to herself she would never let him pull at her heartstrings like that again.

But just like him, her lack of self control betrayed her every time.

She takes a while to respond, and Rafe had to question if he managed to fuck everything up in a 2 minute phone call.

“I’ll be there in 10” she says, her voice sweet like honey, and finally he felt like he could breathe again.

Well girl, what do you think about

Staying right here in bed?

I didn't hear a word you said

I wasn't that high, I swear

Her eyes drifted open at around 8am, the morning sun making her wince as she tries to focus her vision, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Her movements come to a halt as she feels the weight of someone pressed up behind her, arm draped over her waist and head buried behind her neck.

Her eyes widen slightly as she turns so she’s almost on her back, observing how at peace Rafe looked as he was cuddled up to her, his chest rising and falling every few seconds, the sounds of his breathing relaxing her somewhat.

She must of passed out before she had the chance to leave last night, which happened sometimes whenever they were together super late. Sometimes, by the time Rafe was done with her, she would actually struggle to move, exhaustion overtaking her limp body.

But this was the first time they woke up like this. Usually, she would stick to her side of the bed, and he would stick to hers, abiding by Rafe’s stupid rule of no cuddling, as if it would somehow cure his growing infatuation for her.

He was not a relationship person, and that was something she definitely learnt the hard way. Growing up in the household that be did, Rafe had always struggled with letting people in. His father had made it impossible for him to trust, and whenever he got close, he would bolt, too scared to let himself feel anything.

For some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of her. So instead, he made a bunch of stupid rules, in the hopes that it would stop him falling too deep.

Peering up at him with tired eyes, she came to the realisation that she would let him do anything to her as long as it meant he was this close. She would let him walk all over her, whatever way he wanted, if it meant she could stay in bed, like this, with him, just for a little longer.

She almost jumped out of her skin as Rose called for Rafe from downstairs, and the moment she could see his eyes battling to open beneath his eyelids, she turned back around, pretending to be asleep.

he shifted behind her as his eyes fluttered open, adjusting to his surroundings. He mentally cursed his lack of self control as he observed the position he was in, but surprisingly, he didn’t move.

Instead, he ran his fingers through a lock of her hair, the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo making him second guess every single decision he’s ever made. He trailed his fingers all the way down to the curves of her bare hips, before planting a sweet kiss on the back of her head. It took everything in her to remain still, to suppress a bright smile, but she did, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine at his sweet affections.

Rose called for him again, and he rolled his eyes, but he still just couldn’t bring himself to move. He trailed his eyes to last nights hickeys that were littered across her neck and shoulder, and he realised then that maybe, just maybe, he would bend his rules, if it meant he could stay in bed, like this, with her, just for a little longer.

It's happening again

Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends

I'm right here

Oh, baby, take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

His eyes spotted her as soon as she entered his house, seemingly uninterested in the party around him. She looked good, too good, as he observed her appearance. Her summer dress painted her figure in the most delectable way, and her glossy lips looked so succulent he had to hold himself back from kissing her when she sat down next to him.

“You look happy” she says, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she speaks. The amusing look on her face subsided as she noticed the way he licked his red lips, his blue orbs filled with something she couldn’t place.

She lent back, still facing him, almost touching his arm that was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers close to her shoulder. It took everything in him not to run his fingers along her soft skin, a deep craving to trail his fingers over the freckles littered on her shoulder, and he had to question wether he was starting to go insane.

“You didn’t answer yesterday” he says, taking a swig of his bottle of whiskey, a usual favourite for him.

Is that why he looked so glum? It couldn’t be, it’s Rafe we’re talking about here. So then why did he look so doleful? She was burning to know, but she knew better than to pry when it came to him. So, she tried to comfort him in the only way she knew he would let him.

“Can I make it up to you?” She says sweetly, and that caught his attention instantly, head turning to face her. Her doe eyes were glistening with desire, her organs pumping with adrenaline, and she swore she saw his features soften.

Her sinful thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, and she caught the way that Rafe’s jaw clenched at something behind her before she turned around, revealing some touron she met at party a couple weeks ago. If she was being honest, she didn’t even remember his name, but she didn’t have the heart to be rude.

And just like that, she was ripped away from him, the missing warmth from her beside him making his insides twist in the worst way possible as he watched her disappear into the crowd, muscles tensing as he paid attention to how her hands were intertwined with his. Is that why she didn’t answer yesterday? Was she with him? His blood ran cold at the thought, his face contorting with disappointment as he ran a hand through his hair, taking an extra big sip of his whiskey.

He then focused his dull gaze on the empty seat beside him, and before he knew it, time started to slow.

They both sat naked in his living room, her heart racing as she straddled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The sweetness of her cherry lip gloss drowned his tongue as he hummed into her mouth, her insides tingling at the sweet sound as their lips moved together in a passionate kiss.

She realised then that she loved every single sound he made. Even if it was a rude remark, which wasn’t exactly uncommon with Rafe, at least it was something. At least she got to hear him.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you” he mumbled into her mouth, fingers entwined in her messy hair. His voice was low and quiet, but the words pierced through her heart as if he shouted it at the top of his lungs.

She noticed that he would only say nice things to her when they were fucking, and although she didn’t complain in the moment, she always felt uneasy afterwards, his empty words lingering in her mind.

“Yeah?” God. Her voice sounded so weak and fragile, she wished she could just lay on the floor and let the ground swallow her hole. Maybe then, her conflicting thoughts would finally subside.

But Fuck, he loved when she was nervous because of him. Her shaky voice made his lips curl up into a smirk, pushing her hips down in line with his cock, watching her lidded eyes as she pushed herself down onto him, stretching her out and taking him whole.

“Your so fucking beautiful, angel” he moaned, not being able to stop his thoughts whilst he was inside her. In fact, he never could. Whenever they had sex, he would just speak his mind freely, not being able to hold back.

Her moans were full of sin as she began to bounce on his cock, digging her pink nails into his shoulders and throwing her head back in pleasure. He took the opportunity to wrap a hand round her neck, squeezing just the right amount, making sure he didn’t hurt her too much. He brought his other hand up to play with her nipple, pinching on the sensitive skin, and she jerked on top of him, making him smirk.

“Fucking addictive” he mumbles, letting go of her neck and gripping her hair instead, pulling her head forward to look him right in the eyes.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean” she says, clawing her nails down his bare chest, leaving little red marks to replace the old faded ones.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and pushing her against the couch, her back sinking into the soft material. “Oh, I mean it”

Her eyes screw shut as he pounds into her, her breathing increasingly unorganised as his nails dug into her hips. His forehead glistened with a thin layer of sweat, his hair sticking to it, and he had to bite back a smile as he saw how fucked out she was beneath him, her cheeks stained with a faint redness.

“I hate you” she says, a sincere look on her face. And if he didn’t feel her pussy clenching around him in that moment, he might of believed her.

“Earth to Rafe” Topper says, waving his hand in front of his face, and he snapped back to reality.

“Jesus man, what’s gotten into you”

He shrugs in response, an unamused look on his face. “You playing?” Topper asks, turning his head towards the circle of people sat in the middle of the room. Rafe follows toppers line of vision, and his jaw clenches. Usually, he doesn’t indulge in party games, but as soon as he saw her sat in the circle, he was making his way over.

She sat with her best friend, Tara, laughing and giggling as she sips on her vodka soda. He sat down opposite her, their eyes meeting, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the room.

“Rafe looks good tonight, doesn’t he” Tara says, a small smile painting her features, snapping her out of her daze. No one knew about their arrangement, and so she didn’t really have a right to be mad, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart sank at her friends words.

“I guess” she says, doing her best to mask her jealousy with a bored look, but it didn’t really work.

The games started off innocent, a few harmless truths and dares, but as always, it turned sexual very quickly. Topper was always the one to blame for that.

“Okay, this round is 7 minutes in heaven. You know the rules, if the bottle lands on you, you have to spend 7 minutes locked in a room with whoever it lands on next. No backing out” Kelce says, and her heart began to beat a little faster.

Kelce lent forward, gripping the glass beer bottle and giving it a spin. Rafe looked across at her, observing how her eyes were glued to the bottle as it span, and he hoped to god he wasn’t going to have to watch her go into a room with somebody else.

His thoughts were interrupted as their eyes connected, and confusion filled him as he took notice of her wide eyes. He looked down, and when he realised the bottle was pointed at him, it was like all the colour drained from his face.

People began to cheer around them, topper leaning over to pat his back, but she couldn’t do anything but sit, completely frozen. Kelce then span the bottle again, and her heart sank to her feet as it landed on Tara.

Tara giggled as she stood up, smoothing out her dress with her hands, but Rafe didn’t move, clearly hesitant. He tried to ignore the alcohol induced encouragement from everyone around them, and she had a sliver of hope that maybe he wouldn’t do it.

But when she saw him stand up and begin to lead her best friend into one of the downstairs bedrooms, it was like a dagger straight through the heart. She sat there for a minute or two, in her own world as she pinched herself, over and over again, to stop the tears which threatened to spill out of her.

She made her way outside, pushing through the back doors of the house and into the empty garden, the evening breeze giving her goosebumps. She knew she only had herself to blame, he told her what it was from the start and she didn’t listen, but that didn’t make the pain any easier.

She sat down on the stairs of the outside decking, arms crossed as she rubs her arms, trying to warm herself up. She heard some commotion from inside, and turned her head to see through the glass doors.

Everyone cheered as Rafe and Tara made their way out into the living room, and she struggled to breathe as she observed the way Tara pulled her dress down and fixed her hair, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what went on.

Rafe’s heart sank as he returned, scanning around the room to find she was no where to be seen. His gaze landed on her figure outside, and he didn’t hesitate to make his way to her, ignoring the confused looks from Topper and Kelce as he walked straight passed them.

She didn’t have to guess who it was as she heard the door open, and she shot up, walking towards the pool, not wanting to speak to him just yet.

“Where are you running off to?” He says, a quizzical look on his face as he follows her down the garden, shoving his arms in his pockets.

“My best friend, Rafe, really?” She says, sass laced within her voice as she runs a hand through her hair, halting her movements as she stands right in front of the pool, the moonlight reflecting in the water ever so slightly.

“Nothing happened” he replied, and although he knew she would never believe it, he was telling the truth.

Yes, it’s true, Rafe may be known for having a wandering eye, but as Tara sat on the bed, trying her best to seduce him, he just knew no one could ever compare to her.

“Bullshit”

She scoffs at him, her features contorting with anger as she stares at the water ahead, knowing the second she looks at him, she would give in. “I know that we’re just friends” she starts, ignoring the despair in the pit of her stomach as she cringes at her own words.

“But friends don’t disrespect each other. And believe it or not Rafe, fucking my friends falls under that category” she shouts, her voice raised as she now turns to face him.

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends, okay. I’m right here with you, am I not?” He replies back, his frustration evident in his tone.

He wished she believed him. He wished she knew that sometimes, he couldn’t even sleep at night, too wound up in thinking about how soft her hair was, or how cute she looked in the mornings when they would wake up together, and she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“Yeah, after you had your fun” she mumbles quietly, but he heard it. Something in his mind clicked, and he wasn’t sure why it took him so long, but he finally figured out what was going on.

The corners of lips turned upwards into a shit eating grin, and she swore she had never been so close to punching him.

He takes a step forward, their shoes touching, and brings a finger to her chin, pushing her head up to look him straight in the eyes.

“Your jealous” he says teasingly, his features a picture of pure joy.

“Your insufferable” she says, rolling her eyes, trying her best to be rude even though he was right. But all he could concentrate on was the fact she didn’t even deny it.

Her poker face disappears as he moves her hair off her shoulders, bringing his head down to plant harsh kisses along her neck, biting the sweet spot in the way he knew she liked it.

“Admit it” he mumbles into her neck, his hot breath making her insides tingle.

She debated it for a second, before she decided she had a better idea.

She palmed his cock through his shorts, trying not to get distracted by him as he lifted his head up, mouth agape, his darkened eyes illustrating that he wanted to devour her mercilessly.

And when she knew he was fully distracted, she pushed him into the pool.

Rafe emerged from the rippling water, his wet hair clinging to her forehead, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry” she giggles, bending down and crouching to get a better look at him, ignoring the glare that painted his features.

His glare didn’t stay for long, too caught up in how cute her laugh was. The cogs in his brain turned as his eyebrows furrowed into a thoughtful look, and before she could react, he was tugging on her arms and pulling her into the pool with him.

“Fuck you!” She shouts, almost chocking on the water as she laughs, making sure to splash him in the face.

“All you have to do is ask, angel” he smirks, trailing his eyes down to her breasts, rejoicing in the way her hardened nipples were poking through her dress, like they were begging to be touched.

He swims towards her, skin glistening with water droplets, and she just couldn’t help but stare at him in absolute awe.

He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against hers, lingering there for a moment as he grabs her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and pushing her back against the pool wall. Her hands clung to his wet hair, and as she registered just how heavy her breathing was, she knew she was too far gone.

“Someone’s ganna see” she whispers, unable to concentrate when he’s touching her like this.

“Let them” he says, his voice hoarse. He brought his hand up to cup her flushed cheek, before their lips connected in a sweet kiss.

One draw at a time, yeah

One more, you'll be fine, yeah

And I swear she was right there

The blue glow and the night wear

“Tell me how you want it, angel” he mumbles into her collar bone, trailing sloppy kisses all the way down from her breasts to her stomach.

He had turned up to her house in the middle of the day, not even bothering to phone her. It was rare that they spent time together during daylight hours, but she wasn’t exactly complaining. And as always, it had taken him all of 5 minutes until he had her striped down to her underwear, her black lingerie set making his head rush.

“Slow” is all she says, and he’s a bit taken back, lifting himself up so their face to face again. Rafe was an experienced man, but never has he once had slow sex. She lifted her head into the krook of his neck, planting sweet kisses along his skin and up to his jawline, occasionally biting, but not enough to actually hurt him. He came to the conclusion then that as long as she kept kissing him like that, he would try anything for her.

He hooked his fingers in her underwear, pulling them down her legs and revealing her drenched pussy. It didn’t matter how many times Rafe saw her naked, each time still felt like the first.

He buried his head between her legs and kissed her throbbing clit, before lapping his tongue teasingly over the bundle of nerves, small whimpers leaving her mouth at the sensation. She dug her manicured nails into her sheets, and she could feel him smirk against her pussy.

“You like that?” He asks lowly, even though he already knew the answer. She nodded her head, screwing her eyes shut as his licks got harsher, but remained slow.

He placed one hand on her stomach as he ate her out, looking up at her blissful state, and as she moaned his name, he felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

He pulled away, climbing up her body to meet her face once again, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as he lined himself up with her entrance, pushing his cock into her painfully slowly. The pit in her stomach grew heavier and heavier as he stretched her out, and he practically groaned into her mouth.

He started fucking her with slow but harsh strokes, gazing deeply into her eyes, and it dawned on him then that this felt like more than just sex. He trailed his thumb along her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, watching as she sucked on it with lidded eyes, and as she looked up at him, she realised that his blue orbs had some green in them.

What he didn’t know, was that when he knocked on her door earlier that day, and she peered at him through her window, she decided that this had to be the last time they fucked. The jealousy and sadness that he brought on her was turning her into someone that she didn’t recognise, and she knew she had to stop before it was too late, before he had broke her completely.

She savoured every minute as he thrusted into her, digging her nails down his back, leaving little red marks. He replaced his thumb with his lips, tongue diving down her throat as she hummed into his mouth, their kiss sloppy as they were both moaning messes.

He buried his head in her neck, biting her shoulder gently as his eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed at how good this felt even though it wasn’t what he was used to.

The feeling was so bittersweet as she let a single tear roll down her red cheeks, tangling her hands in his hair, only now realising that she had fallen in love with Rafe Cameron, and now she was going to have to heal.

Girl, I've been taking it slow

You know I've been taking it slow

You're sitting alone, why are you sitting alone?

Baby, just pick up your phone, oh

'Cause I've been rolling all damn night, whoa

She took a sip of her champagne as she walked through the beautiful flower garden, mentally praising Toppers parents for choosing to get married in such a picturesque place.

Her hair was plaited into two, with daisy flowers weaved into her hair, sticking to the floral theme of the wedding, and her lilac silk dress was accompanied with matching heels.

She walked to the end of the establishment, making sure no one else was around, before retrieving a crumpled up joint and a lighter from her purse, wasting no time in lighting it, staring at all the luscious plants around her as her body started to relax.

She’s interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and she almost gave herself whiplash with how fast she turned around.

“Jesus! Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to creep up on people?” She asks, eyes slightly wide as she takes a look at the man in front of her. He stood in a black suit, which she could tell was expensive, and a glass of whiskey sat in his ring clad hand, the condensation from the glass rolling down his fingers.

“Says the one getting stoned at a wedding” he says, smirking as he gestures to the lit joint in her hand.

“Hm, touché. But its the only way I’m going to be able to get through Toppers mums speech. I love Top with all my heart, but that woman is the devil” she says, taking a drag of her joint, watching as some of the loose embers fall onto the floor.

He laughs then, a real laugh, which for some reason melted her insides, and her cherry red lips turned upwards into a bright smile.

All Rafe could think about was how someone as beautiful as her could exist, and he didn’t even know about it. He made a mental note to punch Topper later for not introducing her to him.

“You like daisies?” He asks, and confusion fills her features for a second before she realised he’s talking about her hair.

“Uh, yeah. They were my mum’s favourite” she said, a certain dullness laying behind her eyes. His hands grew clammy as he put two and two together, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to intrude on the personal life of a complete stranger.

“I like it. You kind of look like an angel” he says, and he clears his throat as he realised what he just said, his forwardness even shocking himself.

Her smile never wavered as he spoke, features lighting up at his kind words, and suddenly she needed to know who on earth this man was.

“I’m Y/N” she says, leaning her arm out to shake his, her dainty arms no match for his muscular ones.

“Rafe” he responds, mirroring her actions, and as soon as his skin touched hers, she had a feeling he was here to stay.

She sat alone in the island club, watching her phone light up as his contact came onto the slightly cracked screen, the small vibrations of her ringtone filling the room. Her head fell into her hands as she sighed, doing everything she could to go against her urges to answer the call.

She had been ignoring him for a few days, trying to detach herself, but every time he called, she got closer and closer to caving. Everything she did was for him, and now, everything she was doing was because of him, and it was so painful.

Rafe was at toppers with the boys, sipping on his whiskey as he held his phone up to his ear, listening to his ringer as the call went to voicemail for the third time that night.

“Fuck” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair as he shifted on the couch, the same couch where he had his first sinful encounter with her.

“Who are you calling?” Kelce says, eyes squinting with suspicion as he looks at Rafe, registering his stressed out state.

“No one” he replies, and it was impossible to miss the look that Kelce and Topper gave each other.

“Rafe, you might think you were being sneaky, but we know you’ve been seeing Y/N for months now. You guys are kinda obvious” Topper says, eyebrows raised as he confesses to his best friend, a small smile on his face.

“Plus, I saw you guys fucking in the pool the other night” Kelce says, and Rafe’s eyes widen.

“Shit” he says, not really sure what to say. For the first time in his life, he was stumped.

“You really like her, huh?” Topper says, always able to know what his best friend was thinking.

Rafe hesitated before nodding his head, taking another sip of his whiskey, rejoicing in the way it warmed his insides and numbed his pain.

“She won’t return my calls” he says, his mind a spiralling mess. He was trying to rack his brain to figure out what he had done wrong, but the more he thought about it the more confused he got.

“you have to make a gesture, something to show you care. Girls eat that shit up man” Topper said, patting Rafe on the back, Kelce nodding along with him. And as he was racking his brain for ideas, one thing did spring to mind.

Oh, baby, take a look around

I’m the only one that hasn’t walked out

I'm right here

She scanned the perimeter as she stepped onto the boat, the salty smell of the ocean wafting through the mid-day air. She spotted topper at the bar almost immediately, making some sort of cocktail concoction, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she walked up to him.

“Your late” Topper says as he spots her, the sound of the blender making it hard for her to hear, but she did.

“Fashionably late” she corrects him, gesturing to her matching bikini, lifting her sunglasses off of her eyes and resting them on her head, her hair cascading off her shoulders elegantly.

“Why am I here anyway? Frozen Margarita’s don’t really seem like much of an emergency” she says, eyebrows raised as an amused look paints her features.

“Oh but it is. I need you to test my recipe” he says, and as much as she wanted to be annoyed for dragging her out here for no reason, a margarita did sound good.

“Can you go get me some more lime juice from downstairs?” he says, and she nodded her head in response, placing her purse down on the bar before heading for the stairs.

The heels of her wedges clicked as she walked down the wooden stairs, heading straight to the downstairs bar. She flicked through the cupboards as she tried to find the desired lime juice, before her eyes landed on a glass vase which sat in the middle of the bar.

She drew in a sharp breath as she gazed at the bouquet of fresh daisies, accompanied by a card with her name on it, and her eyebrows furrowed. She brought her hand up to stroke the fragile petals, and the memory of her mother plagued her mind.

“What the-“

“They were your mother’s favourite” a male voice says, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “I remembered”

He pulled on her heartstrings as he stood in the doorway, a baseball cap sitting backwards lazily on his head, and a crooked smile on his ruby red lips that she could never get tired of, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t believe he remembered such a small detail like that, and she began to think maybe her prejudice towards him was all wrong.

“Rafe” she says quietly, clearly in shock, her doe eyes wide as he makes his way to her, and holy shit, he never really could get over how his name rolled off her tongue so sweetly.

“What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do since the day we met” he said, and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stare at him in awe as goosebumps formed along her tanned skin, melting into his touch as he brought a hand up to her cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb before cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I’m sorry I made all these stupid rules for us, like no cuddling, or keeping us a secret, because the truth is, every time your near, it takes every ounce of my self restraint not to touch you, or not to tell you that every inch of me belongs to you” he says, wrapping one hand around her waist, pressing her body against his, and she prayed he couldn’t feel how fast hear heart was beating right now.

“I only did those things because I was scared of actually letting someone in” he says, finally letting himself breathe as he paused. “Scared of having to admit that I love you, angel”

She grinned like a cheshire cat as he finished his sentence, admiring the way his cheeks blushed with a faint redness as he poured his heart out, and she swung her arms around his neck tightly, never wanting to let go.

“I love you too” she says, before reaching up on her tiptoes and claiming his lips in a gentle kiss.

“You know i would do anything for you, right?” She whispers against his lips, practically breathing the same air as him, and just like that, his signature smirk was back.

“Well in that case, how about you start with taking this flimsy thing off” he says, pulling on the straps of her bikini top, a small giggle leaving her glossy lips as she playfully hit his arm.

“Gross. Please don’t” Topper says, and they both jumped out of their skin as they spotted him in the doorway, arm leant against the wooden frame with a smug look on his face.

“Jesus! How long have you been standing there?”

Oh, baby take a look around

I'm the only one that hasn't walked out

I'm right here

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me (part three)

Part one, part two

I said I was on break but then a lot of things immediately fell out of my brain cause of stress so now I feel silly... sowweeeeee 🤡 Part four WILL be the last part I swear. If you see more Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren from me after that (and da infodump if i get to it) genuinely tell me to shut the FUCK up!!!

yes i am probably writing the NSFW version it'll be in my compendium post if it happens

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

Your resolve was getting harder to hold on to, but you kept it. This would be the last time. You couldn't part from heaven again after returning. Atonement was waiting for you, eternal devotion to your duty right after.

Another few weeks went by as you stayed with Ren a little longer, the sea of flowers outside your bedroom window changing little by little each day. So many of them were already fully blooming, most of their petals stretched open to show off a myriad of colors while others curled inwards to hide from you. Practically a taunting mockery with how they took their time. As if insulted you would dare leave once they painted the horizon with their beauty.

It made it all the more painful that you'd never see them again. Or the companion that now felt like a piece you'd been missing.

Something about that encroaching deadline had affected the devil, too. Ren was calmer in some ways. They still brought you gifts and knowledge like usual, but he seemed to be taking his time just like the flowers. Simple answers to your curiosities became thorough while he held you close and urged you to ask more questions about whichever object took interest. 

He'd offered to revisit trinkets you loved as well. Until you were as familiar with using them as he was. You couldn't understand it. 

Your time together was draining away by the second. Didn't they want to make exciting memories? No matter how much you enjoyed it, mastery over human instruments or crafts served no purpose. Heaven wouldn't let you bring those things home, nor could you ask a higher power to recreate them for leisure.

Maybe your love was in denial of your departure. Or maybe spending little mundane, quiet days and nights together like this was their way of coming to terms with it.

Today, you chose to fiddle with one of the oldest gifts while chatting with him. The sun was just beginning to set, casting the room in the faded, flaming gold hue you'd only now gotten used to. 

“—Love?” He was calling you, the end of his tail swaying gently in front of your face to get your attention. You’d missed a few words.

“Hm?”

“You've gotten much better at this,” the pink haired devil hummed above you. His chin was resting atop your head as they cradled you in their lap on a frayed rug, his back against the bottom of the couch.

You looked over your work. The woven red string wrapped around and through your fingers took the shape of a pointed star. You knew real stars looked differently, but the human interpretation was interesting.

“Truly, it’s better than before,” you said with wholehearted agreement. The first time you'd tried—only on the third day of your visit to earth—had simply tangled the string to a knotted mess stuck upon your fingers for Ren to deal with while you apologized, embarrassed beyond belief. 

The patterns they taught you were almost easy thanks to your afternoon of trying. You unwound the string and painstakingly wound it again into one that often graced your practice: an angel. He'd been particularly smug about teaching you the motions of that one.

“An impressive self portrait,” Ren joked and squeezed you tighter in their embrace. “Although it'll take more than some thread to capture your divine beauty.”

Naturally, you rolled your eyes even though the soul it was meant for couldn't see it. A mortal gesture you'd gotten the hang of quicker than anything, as he so favored innocent teasing before expressing his deepest sincerities.

You untangled the string and tossed it to the side, then turned in their lap to make a face this time for their benefit. “I’ll do a painting, then. I’ve had enough of this toy.”

He relaxed his hold long enough for you to wander across the room in search of new distractions, but innocently called after you, “We’ll have to light quite a few candles for you to see well. Unless you plan to have me mix paints for you in the dark.” A second passed before he spoke again. “It’d be a pleasant surprise, I’m sure.” 

“Something else?” you replied, making a swift turn towards the bookshelves. You came back with a couple of novels and sat beside them with your treasure. “Is this really all you want to do? You’ve read every book here before.” 

Even the books he’d bought with strange, flimsy paper currency for you, Ren had said so casually, were already familiar territory. Tedium hardly described how boring you thought these weeks must be for him. But he never objected to anything you chose, as long as you both stayed close to home during the day. 

And you always kept your wings hidden in case a human roamed nearby. You'd never seen one come close to the cabin, or even the field of flowers, but he insisted your safety—and proximity to them—was of utmost priority. It was hard to remember the last time you let loose your wings at all after walking on the beach with him. They interrupted your thoughts once more.

“My sweet, delicate angel, I’ve had all the time in the world to do anything I want.” Their blue eyes narrowed with a smile as they spoke and you knew more teasing was coming. “We could even sit here in silence all night, if you asked me nicely.”

“How kind of you, my darling demon,” you teased them back. 

Another jesting response in his gaze faded to something different as you pulled him down for a kiss, gently at first. The books you’d brought over lay forgotten, soon shoved under the couch in favor of your new activity.

Kissing the demon you called yours felt like second nature now. There was no sting that ever came, no homesick aching in your back anymore. Only the flood of tender emotions he gave you, tainted by your own guilt and fears of parting from him.

You needed more. A stronger distraction. Your hand on his shirt tightened, determined to keep him. To stay in this moment as long as possible.

Ren exhaled, a muttering of blasphemous praise you dare not repeat whispered from his lips to yours, along with one word. A word that sounded odd to your ears. 

You'd heard it countless times over the months, but it didn't feel strange until after the first kiss you shared. He must have said it earlier, too, when you were occupied with that damned little red string. Demonic language was much different, it certainly wasn’t that at all. And the sounds of the word did feel similar to mortal languages, but nothing came to mind. So naturally, you could only assume it to be another of their pet names, but…

The thought fell to the side as you focused on him. He was all that needed to matter right now.

Their comforting warmth that called of your sacred home, your nails curling into the bottom of his shirt just to fall lower, an iron, almost nectar-like taste that flowered on your tongue—did you bite him this time? It felt good. 

Desperately, you brushed your hand over his thigh, getting dangerously close to where you knew things risked going further. You caught yourself and froze. You wanted him, you’d known since that day in the rain. In every way a being could yearn for another’s love. And of course he felt the same. But could you really go home if it happened? 

“Before I…” The words hung in the air and what remained weighed in your throat. Before I leave. Departure was looming on the horizon, sure as the sun would rise tomorrow. You dare not mention it to the one you loved again. You opened your eyes to meet theirs, cautiously as you wondered, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” they answered, longing clear as the evening sky in his voice. “I couldn’t bear—or ever want—to deny you. Little angel, all you desire of me is yours to take.”

Without another word you did just that. You thought nothing of the faint, staggered line you felt under your fingertips that seemed to start somewhere along his shoulder blade as you lifted the shirt away and pushed him to lay on the rug. Your hands pressed their ink-stained arms flat next to the disheveled mess of pink hair and horns. Ren grinned at your audacity to pin him, but held still for your much needed exploration. 

Eyes half lidded with patient lust, mouth parted to show off pointed fangs, the devil looked to be the very picture of your sinful desires.

To be one with them, even just once, was a memory worth making. No matter what punishment waited for you at heaven’s boundary. You skimmed your fingers from the base of his collarbone, down over their stomach, and began to undo the buttons that concealed what you’d been waiting for.

[stars4gojo]

Invisible string

Dad!Gojo x Fem!reader // Young Megumi and Tsumiki mentioned at the end // fluff angst if you squint, found family trope // 1k words

(Not proofread pls don’t kill me for any spelling or grammar mistakes)

Megumi is yet again in another fight but refuses to open up about this one leaving you and Gojo confused and worried

One single thread of gold tied me to you

More of my work 🤍

You’re sitting in the teachers lounge at Jujutsu high alongside Shoko, who’s drinking her daily dose of caffeine while you go through your paperwork.

You pay no mind when Gojo flops on the couch next to you whining loudly to grab your attention. 

You ignore it the first time, you let it slide the second but now it’s the third time and you’re slowly losing your patience.

“You’re just really gonna leave me hanging like this?” Gojo asks raising his blindfold from one eye so he can see you clearly. 

You let out a deep sigh as you turn towards him giving him a deadpanned look. 

“I’m busy right now Satoru.” You replied as you went back to finishing up paperwork. 

“Too busy for me? Your strong, beautiful, handsome boyfriend?” Gojo asked and you could almost hear the pout forming on his lips. 

Shoko let out a little chuckle, “You sure he’s good mopping around like that?” She asked in amusement.

“Let him be, he’s probably gonna complain about Megumi again.” You replied as if you were used to his antics.

“Megumi..?” Shoko questioned as she pondered to herself you just shook your head in response with a smile tugging on your lips at your friend’s forgetfulness. 

“Ah! The Zenin child?” Shoko asked as she snapped her fingers and you only hummed in response.

“So Gojo what about the Zenin?” Shoko asked now turning her attention towards your sulky man child. 

“Well I’m glad you asked Shoko, unlike some people here.” Gojo replied, suddenly energetic - putting emphasis on the word some. 

“He has a great technique and potential but he’s just, so ugh what’s the word for it..” Gojo started as he thought about his word choices.

“Satoru if you’re here to complain to us about how you’re getting bullied by a 7 year old we don’t wanna hear about it.” You replied while a little chuckle escaped your mouth.

Gojo squinted his eyes at you as he continued, “Well you wouldn’t know how it feels! Cause as soon as you’re there he’s all rainbows and unicorns and suddenly wants to eat all of his vegetables and wants to brush his teeth on time.” He rolled his eyes.

You got up from your seat making way to the couch, holding his face in your hands.

“I’m sorry Toru.” You said as his eyes lit up. “Is there anything I can help with?” You added.

“You two make me sick” Shoko spoke under her breath as she got up making her way out of the room. 

“Megumi got in a fight again in school and he’s refusing to do any training today.” Gojo said with a sigh.

“He got into another WHAT?” Satoru i told you to contact me when this happens. Did you get called into school? God please help me if you told him to use cursed energy when he gets into fight again because I will NOT be holding back.” You spoke fast, clearly distressed.

“Relax y/n I spoke to the teacher and I did not tell him to tuck his thumb this time or use cursed energy.” He said and you could only sign in relief. 

“It’s just that he…he’s not sharing why he fought in the first place.” Gojo started speaking as his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

“Well usually, he says that they were bullies but this time his mouth his shut couldn’t even get him to open up during a froyo session.” Gojo added.

“So please just talk to him? You always seem to know what to say and he likes you more anyways.” Gojo asked and your heart melted a little at his sincerity. 

“Ok, I’ll pick him up from school tomorrow and I’ll speak to him. You don’t worry about it you big baby.” You replied as you pinched his cheeks. 

So, this is how you found yourself picking up Megumi from school and he was more than shocked to see you waving at exactly pickup time - Gojo almost always runs late or sends Ijichi to pick him up instead.

“Hi Megumi how was school.” You asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“You’re not at work today?” Megumi asked as he put his eyebrows up in question.

“Well I wanted to talk to you Megumi, why’d you get into a fight yesterday hm?” You asked softly, being extra cautious.

“I told him not to tell you, I knew you’d be mad.” Megumi huffed out.

“Mad? Gumi I’m not mad at all i just wanna know why it happened so I can help you.” You replied looking at him through the rear-view mirror. 

“Well they were saying mean things.” He huffed again folding his arms to his chest. 

“Were they saying mean things to someone else? Or was it about you Megumi? You need to tell me so I can help you.” You asked gently.

“It was nothing you need to worry about.” Megumi harshly spoke back and you could only frown in response.

“I won’t be mad.” You added.

“They said mean things about me.” He replied after a minute of silence.

“What did they say Megumi?” You asked again.

“They said I don’t have a real dad or mom and that their moms tell them to not hang out with me cause you and Gojo are weird.” He said avoiding eye contact, embarrassed about getting worked up over something like this.

You gave him a tight lipped smile in response, not knowing where to start.

“You don’t have say anything I don’t have a mom or dad but it’s okay cause I’ve got you guys.” He said, almost murmuring as a light blush formed on his already rosy cheeks.

“You’re right Megumi, you don’t have a mom or dad but you have me and Gojo. You know we love you and Tsumiki a lot so next time someone says anything about you or our family you go straight to a teacher or tell me or Gojo and we will figure it out hm?” You asked turning around for a second to give him a reassuring smile as he nodded in response.

“Right, you do know that you owe Satoru an apology for yesterday? Skipping out on lessons and being mean to him.” You questioned while raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah yeah I’ll do that.” He spoke putting his head down in shame as you could only giggle.

To be fair those parents were not wrong, Gojo definitely gave everyone the wrong impression from his immature humour and Megumi’s dad did walk out on him but, that’s okay because your little, slightly dysfunctional family is now his home and forever.