golden silks

All I ever did to that apartment was hang fifty yards of yellow theatrical silk across the bedroom windows, because I had some idea that the gold light would make me feel better, but I did not bother to weight the curtains correctly and all that summer the long panels of transparent golden silk would blow out the windows and get tangled and drenched in the afternoon thunderstorms. That was the year, my twenty-eighth, when I was discovering that not all of the promises would be kept, that some things are in fact irrevocable and that it had counted after all, every evasion and every procrastination, every mistake, every word, all of it.
—  Joan Didion, “Goodbye to All That,” Slouching Towards Bethlehem
Singapore Sling

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Rating: NC-17

Character count: 35,696 / Word Count: 6,521

Your duties as maid of honour were fairly simple: maximise alcohol and minimise stress, keep an eye on the bride-to-be, and above all else, have things under control. You’ve promised yourself to keep this wedding a fuckup-free zone, anticipating smooth sailing from the moment you land in Antigua. When danger emerges on the horizon in the form of a denim-clad devil dressed in Gucci and gold, things take a turn—nothing in the MOH handbook has prepared you for what to do in the event that you unwittingly sleep with the best man.

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you must come back home ❖ yixing

anon requested: Hey you guys!!! Hope your having an amazing day! Keep up the awesome work!!💕 I wanted to request a Yixing smut. He comes home after a bussiness trip (cuz he is a ceo :’) ) and you greet him with nothing just a silk robe. And then yixing fucks against everybsurface of the house. And he would be so animalistic and raw. You would be screaming for pleasure. Good thing taht you guys have your own house ;) thank you babes💖 - 🐙🐙🐙 anon

(gif not mine, cr to the owner)

4390 words | smut, sugar daddy, daddy kink, ceo! au pretty raw tbh, dirty talk | velvet

✎ After a long trip away from home, from you and your body, finally Yixing comes back home and you can remember him how good it feels being in your presence.

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Pull Me Under

It’s actually almost unhealthy how ready I am for Sunday…

About: After meeting Queen Cersei in the dragon pit, Jon and Dany have made it back to Dragonstone and have a few days to prepare for battle. They enjoy a bath together among other things…

Warning: Smut (also season 7 spoilers?idk?)

Preview: Dany lay her head back, resting it on the edge of the tub. She smiled up at his face, glad to see him again. Then she closed her eyes and hummed a song. Jon played with her hair until she almost fell asleep. 

She only snapped out of her trance when Jon finally parted her long hair in half and pushed it over onto Dany’s shoulders. Her hair tickled her breasts, the length of it floated in the water. 

Dany had left the dragon pit with a calm temper. She flew back to Dragonstone on Drogon, Jon seated behind her. Ever since she watched Jon put a bare palm to Drogon’s scales, she’d been toying with the idea of seeing him ride on of her children. Now it seemed only to make sense. 

With Viseron killed by the Night King, she thought it best to have someone ride Rheagal as a way of giving her child a second pair of eyes. Daenerys could think of no one more suited. 

When they had taken off and Dany sent Drogon spinning through the skies, Jon hollered in delight. Dany smiled. He was fourteen again. All the way back Jon took note of Dany’s stance as she directed Drogon. She spoke allowed to teach him. 

When they reach the ground she helped Jon off. They had made it before any of the others.

“Thank you,” Jon said. “That was incredible.” 

“Now you’ve ridden two dragons.” Daenerys thought it best to hold her tongue about him riding Rheagal. She would wait until tomorrow. 

Jon cracked a smile and reached out to snake an arm around her. Dany jumped away, a squeel escaping her mouth. Jon ran after her and soon he was chasing her back to the castle. He sprinted after her bouncing curls. She yelped and laughed, dodging him. 

Jon caught up with her just as they reached the door to the castle. Before she could open it, he turned he around and pinned her against the stone. His heart was still beating rapidly from the flight. Their lungs heaved from the chase. 

Dany looked up and brushed the curls away from his eyes delicately. He kissed her slowly. Reaching behind her Dany felt for the handle of the door. 

“Take a bath with me.” She whispered. Dany didnt know where the thought came from. She just knew that she was tired and sweaty but didn’t want to leave him. 

“What?” Jon asked blankly. 

“What are you scared of water?” Dany teased. “I’ll have a bath run for me when I go to my chambers, wait a while and then come knock.” 

Jon stood bewildered. Her confidence never surprised him, but this spontaneity did. 

He remembered their time on the boat vividly and since, he longed to she her like that again, shaking under his touch. 

“Alright,” he said.

Dany swung the door open and backed into the castle, her shoulders straightened and hips swung as she walked away. 


Later, Daenerys sunk herself into the bath, the tension of her muscles dissolving in the heat of the water. Missandei chatted with her as she bathed. 

“Missandei,” Dany started. 

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“What do you think of Jon Snow.” 

Missandei looked over to her. She had sensed something different about her. The dragon queen seemed … less tense. Or less tense than Missandei expected her to be after leaving Dragonstone with three of her dragon children and returning with only two.

“He’s quite comely, Your Grace.”

“Hmm. But what of his nature,” Dany prodded.

“I believe he has pure intentions, Your Grace. He thinks of things before he does them. But he has a passion within him too.”

Dany agreed. She nodded and their chatter went on. 

Not a few moments later there was a knock on her door. Daenerys tried to show no idea of who it may be. Missandei stood and answered the door. Then Dany heard it shut again.

Missandei approached her. “It’s Lord Snow, Your Grace, he insists he speak with you alone right away.” 

“Send him in.” Dany said, keeping her face cold to not offer her any hints.

“Your Grace …” Missandei protested. She reached for Dany’s clothes, ready to wrap her in them. 

Dany didn’t flinch. “Send him in.”

Missandei padded out of the Queens chambers with a knowing smile. Dany listened as Jon’s footsteps drew near. 

Jon saw Dany’s silver hair cascading over the edge of the metal tub she sat soaking in. He approached her, reaching down and picking up the hair in his hands.

Dany lay her head back, resting it on the edge of the tub. She smiled up at his face, glad to see him again. Then she closed her eyes and hummed a song. Jon played with her hair until she almost fell asleep. 

She only snapped out of her trance when Jon finally parted her long hair in half and pushed it over onto Dany’s shoulders. Her hair tickled her breasts, the length of it floated in the water. 

Jon walked around the tub to face her. He stood and memorized the site of the Queen, soaking in warm water just above her breasts. She suddenly stood up, pulling a jar of oil off the shelf beside her. 

“Take off your clothes,” she commanded.

He obeyed. He peeled off layer by layer. Jon felt strange in the Queen’s chambers. The boat had been familiar to him and equal to what he’s seen before in lavishness. 

Now he could see he was dealing with a Queen. Jars of oils and scents surrounded her tub, glass vases filled with wine from all areas of the world sat on a golden table and sheer silks lined her windows that overlooked the water. Jon could see Drogon and Rheagal’s shadows dancing across them as they flew by. 

There was more, much more, but Jon didn’t have time to take it all in. He stood fully bare in front of Daenerys and he watched as she let the oil drip onto her fingers. 

“A calming oil from Meereen,” she explained. 

Dany turned him around with his fingers until his back faced her. Her legs still planted in the tub, she rubbed the oil into his shoulders. Jon’s mouth clamped shut. He growled a low hum as she massaged the oil into his back, shoulders and biceps. 

Her fingers rubbed circles at the base of his neck. Jon couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed, if he ever was. After what Jon felt like was hours, but was probably no more than minutes, Dany lifted his hands from his skin. 

Jon turned around to face her. Dany was his height as she stood in the tub. He kissed her gently, his lips gliding over hers. Dany backed up and guided him into the water with her, her hands on his shoulders. 

Jon had to stop himself from wincing at the warmth of the water. 

“Is it too hot?” Dany asked. 

Jon shook his head. He thought back to his time on the wall, remembering a particularly long night where he patrolled the top of it, wondering if he’s ever feel heat in his toes again.

They sat down across from each other and stared for a long while. Dany sat with her legs crossed, Jon’s stretched out on either side of her, his knees poking up out of the water.

 Then Dany picked up a sponge and a silver cup. She poured hot water over his curls gently, rubbing it in with her fingers. Jon leaned into her touch. She sponged his body lightly, scrubbing circles over his back, under his chin and around his scars.

Jon just sat, melting under her touch. She gently wiped the sponge across each of his cheeks. Jon opened his eyes, not remembering when he had closed them. 

He took the sponge from her and she turned it over in his hand, pouring a purple soap onto it. 

“Turn around,” he commanded. Dany did, sliding around so that her back faced him. He scrubbed her there slowly and rinsed, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. 

Then he leaned her back against his chest and continued to clean her, rubbing small and big circles over her body with the sponge, watching as suds formed over her pale skin. 

Dany pulled her long silver hair to one side as he gingerly glided the sponge over her breasts and down her stomach. Then her rinsed her in hot water from the cup. He turned his face to her and used his hand to wet her cheeks, rubbing any dirt away with his fingers. 

She smiled up at him, her eyes closed. Jon cupped her face in his hand. Daenerys craned her neck back and leaned up. They kissed, hot breath blowing across each others cheeks. 

Jon breathed in and pulled her closer with one arm, wrapping it around her front. His length had hardened long before, but he felt it stiffen more as their tongues fought for control. Dany felt it against her lower back and leaned back against him harder, driving him mad. 

Jon let his fingers wander, lightly skimming over each of her breasts, pausing only to twirl circles around each nipple until they were hard. 

Dany pulled away from their kiss with a shiver, reaching a hand up to snake her fingers through his damp curls. 

“Jon please..” she whispered.

Dany’s cunt was throbbing under the hot water. She was just about to give into the urge to thrust her own fingers down there when Jon’s fingertips grazed her inner thigh. She thrust forward slightly, hoping to lead him on faster. 

“Patience, my Queen,” his voice was a low growl, his breath hot in her hear. She felt shivers run down her spine and travel straight to her core. 

Jon’s fingers lingered over her cunt in the water, brushing lightly against the skin of her other folds. Dany sucked a breath in between her teeth. Jon then plunged a finger between her folds, swirling and pulling upwards at the slowest pace her could manage, pausing to press against her clit. 

“Stop teasing,” Dany warned.

“As you wish.” He pushed a finger into her and curled it up, watching as her legs twitched. 

He pulled out and repeated the motion, swirling inside her again and again. Dany gasped lightly and he added another finger. Her eyes fluttered open and shut and she bit at the side of his neck as he curled his fingertips up, pressing against her sweet spot. 

Dany blew a hot breath across the skin of Jon’s neck and his cock throbbed against her back. Jon picked up his pace, plunging his fingers in and out of her swollen pink cunt, pressing her sweet spot inside her. 

Dany felt her walls tightening. Jon felt them flutter around his fingers and quickly brought his other hand to her clit. Dany threw her head back on his shoulder. 

“Jon,” she breathed. 

He pumped in and out of her and pressed hard against her clit with his his other hand, rubbing up and down as fast as he could. Dany felt her release approaching and she gasped again, breathing in deep. Her muscles clenched and her hips bucked up, but Jon held her down against him in the water. 

As her high sent shocks through her body she shook, her legs spasming and clenching together. Jon held her down with one and and never stopped rubbing her clit with the other. 

When she finished she slumped against him and he waited until she caught her breath. Jon placed careful kisses to her neck and pulled the wet strands of hair away from her face.

When she was calm she looked up at him, overwhelmed with his dark eyes staring down at her. 

She looked toward her bed, ideas of how to return the favor racing through her head. 

… More smut:
screenshot (m)

Originally posted by bwipsul


genre: smut. there’s nothing more to it

word count: 2739

a/n: I’m honestly so nervous because it’s been literally millennia since I last posted something like this…. I hope you guys like it ;) this is heavily based off snapchat…. and…. I’m sorry if it’s too messy jfc I had to stop multiple times 

warnings: swearing, lots of lucid imagery

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Otayuri Headcanon: Hair.

* Yuri’s hair looks like golden silk, a golden waterfall
* Ever since they met in Barcelona for the the first time, Otabek wanted to just run his hand through that blonde hair
* Because it looks soft as hell
* It took Otabek two years to get himself to ask Yuri if he could play with his hair
* They were semi cuddling while watching a movie and the only thing Otabek could concentrate on was the Russian’s blonde locks
* “Ca…can, can I play with your ha…hair?”
* After a few seconds of silence, which were hell to the Kazakh, Yuri’s answer was “Do as you please.”
* For the first time Otabek ran his hand through the soft silk like hair and it felt even softer than it looks like
* For the rest of the movie Otabek kept his hand running through Yuri’s hair, letting it slip through his fingers, admiring how soft it was
* Causing Yuri to fall asleep though
* Not noticing that both of them were red af

* Otabek was born with thick dark curls
* Not just waves, actual curls
* Ever since he got bullied in middle school for it, he started to straighten them
* From this bad bully experience also came his hate for his fabulous curls
* The curls really are a big insecurity of the Kazakh
* No one knows how his natural hair looks like, only his family and old school members of course
* Otabek decided to visit his best friend of 3 years in Russia, who also was his crush, Yuri Plisetsky
* They decided to practice together and they came back late in the evening, both sweaty and tired
* They decided to take turns and shower
* Otabek went first, standing under the warm running water cleared his mind and made him finally realize something
* He forgot his straightener in his suitcase, which was in Yuri’s room, where the Russian was chilling and waiting for his friend to return
* He had no other choice than revealing his big insecurity to his friend
* Shyly and slowly Otabek walked back, in only sweatpants and the towel around his shoulder, into Yuri’s room to get his straightener
* He prayed that Yuri wouldn’t look up, but he did and it was like the time froze
* They were just staring at each other
* Before Yuri got up and slowly walked up to him, he reached up to grasp a curl, lightly pulling and unrolling it
* Both of them had a deep red blush on their faces
* Yuri let go of the strand of soft thick hair, it rolled back into a spiral
* “Never straighten your hair ever again. That’s an order not a request.”

(Cuddle headcanon’s next? Sorry this is bad, I suck)

All writers rooms who attempt to write wlw need a fandom wlw in the corner of their room that shrieks every time they use an idea that’s wholly unoriginal.

If it gets really bad they get to throw the blueray box sets of whatever shows the writers are copying at their heads.

If they contemplate killing a wlw, the fandom wlw gets to pull a golden silk rope and the ceiling opens up and every single box set of every single television show that’s killed a wlw falls directly on top of them.

electronique-brain  asked:

I wish you'd write a fic where Daenerys and Viserys were swapped in the birth order.


“I am three and ten,” he says, her little brother with beaten-silver hair and beaten-bruised face - boys in the street, unamused by the Lysene looking brat claiming dominion. “I am a man grown, or near as makes no difference - we will wed as soon as we can find a septon, so that our marriage will be unquestionably valid when we reclaim Westeros.”

Daenerys, eight years Viserys’ senior, too young to have been of use to one brother and too weary for the other, sighs.

“We will not find a septon here, little brother,” she points out evenly, not looking away from the special performance Illyrio has ordered for them. The dancers are lithe, beautiful, pale and fair-haired to a one, and Daenerys has seen both the bed slaves Illyrio favours and the statue he claims is himself in his youth, and wonders just how safe Viserys is in the cheesemonger’s manse. “The furthest east any septon will wander is to the Sept-Beyond-The-Sea, in Braavos. You know that, Viserys.”

His face, as beautiful and pale as any of the dancers, goes violently scarlet at the quiet reprimand. Her brother thinks himself a true dragon, and is therefore ready to breathe fire in any moment of temper. 

“Do not shame us,” she warns him, smiling and raising her cup to far-away Illyrio, resplendent in golden silks, laid on blue velvet pillows. “The magister has been generous, and need not be any longer if we seem ungrateful - your ill temper has cost us much already, little brother.”

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