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driaswrld · 5 months

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🪷 — A ROYAL AFFAIR . . . THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT

LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *

🪷 dearest gentle reader, what is a princess to do when she's caught between two dashing princes, both of which are her childhood friends? — one her betrothed and the other her past love... 4.7k words.

🪷 prince gojo x reader x prince geto jjk regency/royal au, use of regency era terminology, longing and more longing.

🪷 taglist : (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @angelshimaa @yunymphs @todorokies @satocidal @maeby-cursed @rinniessance @cinnabooonn @shegetsburned @starry-grace2 @selfishdoll @shuuennovirche @wishmemel @riaki @yazzzmints @aphroditisxc @gojorbit @izakyun @satoruoo @irisxyphium @zwtari @/lollipop974 @r0ckst4rjk @softgirlgonehaywire @lilvampirina @brianmaysclog

CHAPTER ONE. . . ˚ ༘ *

L'INCOMPARABLE.

Talks of betrothal began in the last Spring of your youth.

Under the cherry blossom trees, you sit in silence, fuchsia petals decorating the length of your hair in messy scatters.

Satoru Gojo, crowned prince and heir to the Gojo throne, picks the fallen remnants of flowers from your hair one by one as the nobles watch on.

Whispers of ‘they would make such a beautiful match’ and ‘look how the Prince dotes on her’ echo in the brush of the gardens, women whispering among themselves and the men chortling between swings of their mallets — in a near deathly game of pall mall.

“Don’t hide from me,” Satoru dips his head, breath fanning the shell of your ear. If possible, the whispers intensify, cutting past your ears and you bite back a giggle, stifling down the thought that crosses your mind, attention whore.

“I’m not hiding, your highness.” You counter, shifting to the side, your smile hidden behind a porcelain teacup, swift sips of ginger warming your cheeks.

“It’s improper, you know.” The words linger in the air between soft wisps of wind, flurries of foreign fabrics and bright layers of skirts pass your vision — and yet, all is drowned out by him.

Your anointed Prince, the attention whore.

“Improper to gaze upon my companion?” Satoru scoffs, grinning wide, toothy, dimples.

Childhood found you both tethered like bee and nectar, always close, always coming back.

At first, it was through duty, sharp tongued ten year old Satoru Gojo, a prince born with a halo and the title of the realm’s strongest to his name, meeting you, the humble princess of the Western kingdom, born in valor and sprouted in pride, a warrior’s code.

It was a disastrous first few encounters—

(—but then he was your bestfriend, and you his. )

His dear mother, bless her soul, had taken the time out to host this marvelous garden party to welcome the newest maidens into their debuts – moreso, to marry Satoru off quicker than he could leave for another battle, chasing another war – and yet, he cared not to meet with any of the women or entertain them beyond an inch of his being.

Not around you, at least.

“You shouldn’t jest about these things—!” A snort leaves your mouth, and whereas the ever uppity ladies of the palace court gawk at you in utter disbelief and mild disgust, Satoru finds himself bellowing a boyish laugh.

That was the last time he’d laugh like that with you, before a warm spring of youth turned to a burning summer, hot with passion, scorched with lust.

THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT.

Dearest gentle reader,

As all royal scandals do,

It started with an invitation.

We cordially invite you to the Gojo palace grounds to celebrate the betrothal of our crowned prince Satoru Gojo and his bride to be [name] [name].

This author finds herself compelled and rather . . . intrigued.

What a match made in heaven! Our beloved Prince Satoru and his most dearest childhood friend!

Your fingers tremble at your sides, the aura that is the strongest permeates your very being. The soft hum of piano keys coupled with string and bow becomes near inaudible – the power Satoru Gojo has on you is like a moth to a flame, lamb to slaughter.

But I assure you,

When it comes to matters of the heart —

Carefully, your feet carry you across the crowded ballroom, mass of bodies parting the instant they catch a glimpse of your eyes – that desperation is familiar in young women like you – and they pity you.

You, who should be above them, who should be the next Queen, the current Princess consort to be.

And yet.

“I’ve told you endlessly, I will take no wife!” Satoru’s voice is a staccato, bouncing off the walls of the vacant corridor adjacent to the ballroom, echoing past your ears.

Dare I say, our beloved crowned Prince

Is not the strongest.

“Some nerve you have, boy.”

Satoru’s father, the King, is a stoic man.

You’ve come to know this well in your youth. He rules firm and his word remains law. By no means is he the strongest or possesses any more battle capacity than that of any other noble, but he remains a political stronghold.

And his grip over his family — his subjects, remains unwavering.

“I don’t care for your affairs or your crown,” Satoru’s gaze remains hard, even as he meets his father’s ire in tow, and in such a barely secluded place too. “Let one of your bastards have it, my place is on the battlefield doing what you are too cowardly to.”

Your mind runs rampant, palms pressed against the cold wall concealing your presence.

You wonder what Satoru might be thinking — if he’d be so foolish as to forsake his lineage and do away with his duty, if he’d give up simply because his fate was not his choice — he wouldn’t.

No, Satoru is good and kind, and he would see this kingdom to a new realm of peace just with his bare hands alone.

“And that is all? You wish to do away with it simply because it does not suit your childish desires? I have given you everything! And the one thing I ask of you—”

You still yourself at the near animalistic growl that leaves Satoru’s lips.

“She will never be Queen.”

It cuts through you like blades of grass, familiar, scratching at your skin softly, pinpricks of green drawing blood from your calves.

It reminds you of when you were younger, more naive and susceptible to the follies of men and matters of the heart.

“Who’ll marry you if you spend your days swinging a sword and broadening your shoulders?”

“Aren’t there girls your age you can follow around? I don’t care if you’re a princess, we’re not friends.”

“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d ever want to court you.”

Three months, thirteen days.

Your betrothal has long exceeded and broken the record of engagement wait time.

Most women would be married within the same month of betrothal, the longest and most respectable wait time being a month and a half, only due to cases of overdue dowry payments.

Three million dollars was your reverse dowry.

Paid directly from the royal treasury to your father, and four million dollars paid in return. That was how much yours and Satoru’s hands were worth to your families, a testament to the weight you’d both bear by wearing a crown.

Except, you hadn’t been crowned yet. Or married for that matter.

“—summer solstice hunt!” It’s Yuji who exclaims, voice filled with childlike wonder. Recently knighted by Satoru himself and a renowned protege of the Kingsguard, the boy is eager to please. “Who will you cast your bets on, your grace?”

The confines of Satoru’s private study function as a meeting room for idle chatting — he leaves the letters to his advisors when they are of little importance.

Or discards them entirely when he has company, like now.

You sink deeper into the cushioned seat, Satoru’s arm draped over the back of your chair. A tuft of snowy hair falls over his forehead and he breathes a chuckle, your weight curling in on itself with every rise and fall of his chest.

why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don't you want me

“It’s out of question to bet on one’s self, no?” Satoru chuckles and it earns a cackle from Yuji, who, despite himself, has already casted his own bet on his annointed Prince. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone’s head bigger than it ought to be.”

The summer and winter solstice brings with it two separate ceremonial festivals — the hunt being the most anticipated due to its cutthroat competition among nobles and peasants alike.

That, and the prize.

The winner of the hunt, the man or woman to capture the famed primordial stag — which is really a regular stag trained and bred to elude even the most skilled knights — would be rewarded a grand jewel from the Queen’s vault.

Gentle reader,

The famed jewel for the taking

This summer, is none other than—

“I’ve placed my bet on you,” you comment plainly with a shrug and Yuji beams.

It isn’t unlike you to root for one of Satoru’s proteges, the ones fairly skilled and new to knighthood – you’ve always found yourself cheering for the peonies in a garden full of roses — the underdogs full of potential . . .

Satoru glances over to you, and for a second you miss how his gaze lingers.

“You’re too kind, Princess…” Yuji sighs, near dreamily. “I will no doubt do well now that I have your favor on my side.”

( losing dogs, satoru wants to say. all you ever do is bet on losing dogs. )

“You have her bet, not her favor.” Satoru scoffs dramatically before you can even think to lend Yuji your well wishes. “It isn’t something given, it’s something won. And from a maiden, not a Princess consort.”

She’s spoken for, is all you hear though.

There’s an air of uncertainty that passes between you and Satoru that only thickens with your closeness.

A pale palm curls around the cross rail of the back of your chair and you lean into his touch subconsciously – it’s warm, secure – he’s saying, I have your favor, don’t I? Tell me I do.

—The champion’s jewel,

A wraith necklace fit for a Queen.

The L’Incomparable.

“Nevertheless, you have my good faith.” You interject, followed by a sharp inhale, and you stand abruptly from your seat. Satoru’s hand falls to his side. He knows what you're thinking.

Three months, thirteen days.

You’ve sat by and watched Satoru deny you marriage – his excuse, that he’s waiting for his coronation first – you’ve watched him continue to entertain the women around him like he’s done since he was merely a squire, plastering a smile on his face from this glass castle he calls home.

He’s close, but never too close. Stringing you on then letting you loose— it’s routine.

It’s eerily similar to your childhood.

“Yuji,” Satoru speaks, soft yet firm. The young boy is on his feet immediately and offers a swift bow to his majesty, handing his service in tow to the call. “Leave us.” Satoru commands, and just as swiftly as he came, Yuji is bowing to you and exiting through the study doors.

L’Incomparable.

The largest internally flawless diamond in the kingdom and the most expensive chain sitting in the Queen’s vault currently, worth eight billion dollars alone.

Allegedly, it was handcrafted as a gift from an ancient Gojo king to his mistress — whom he had knighted and sent off to fight in the war at her wishes once their affair had been brought to light and scrutinized.

A gift he only got to place on her corpse.

Even in death, he loved her. More than he loved his own wife and Queen.

And though many attempts had been made to destroy the necklace, it remains near indestructible.

“Something troubles you.” Satoru murmurs the moment the door clicks shut. His gaze remains strained forward on your form, from where you fiddle with the frayed hem of your gown, back turned to him.

“I simply think of the prospects of the hunt,” you retort. “There are many promising young competitors traveling to partake— I fear my Prince would simply be. . . thwarted, is all.”

L’Incomparable is not a jewel of love.

It's a sickening story of a woman who loved a man who could not love her back in the way she deserved.

A woman who took what she was given, secret meetings, hushed whispers and fleeting gazes.

And when he did, finally love her back wholly and ardently, unable to bury it behind a locked door in the dungeon he called a heart — she was already gone.

“You doubt me?” Satoru’s voice is closer now, and you wonder when he even stood up – if he'd been taking small steps toward you the entire time.

“No.” It leaves your mouth like a prayer, an oath, worship. Every ounce of confidence you have is in him. He has protected you, kept you, safeguarded your sanity and treated you with grace— “Never that.”

( —he is your friend. nothing more than that. )

He exhales, and you hear the faint sound of a swallow, the click of his tongue. Your ear feels hot with the proximity, yet, he inches closer still.

“Will you give this to me, then?” He whispers, faint, uncertain — almost desperate.

And you turn, faces inches apart, breath mingling. “What is it you wish of me, my Prince?” Your pupils dilate.

“Your Prince,” Satoru repeats, like it knocked the wind out of him. It's a common way to address the monarch, you’ve said it before as have others. “. . . asks for your favor in the upcoming hunt.”

He keeps his hands folded behind him, curled into fists and trembling. Your Prince. Yours. Yours.

He’s a gentleman. He was raised right.

This urge—

( you’re his friend. his advisor. his confidant. this is not what he wants. )

The urge to strip you down to nothing but your chemise, lay you on his desk and hike your legs over his hips, show you things you’ve only seen in dreams or read in books — like he’s done to so many women before — he promises himself he’s not a rake, he’s just a man, but when you look at him like that and say his title so softly—

( it will pass. )

“Then,” your breath slows as he steps forward, so easily leaving you pressed back against the hardwood desk, caged by him. “I will grant my Prince my favor.”

Satoru watches in earnest, places his hands on either side of you on the desk as you remove one of your gloves.

Pure white, pearl decor, lace trim.

He would've laughed if he wasn't so enthralled by such a simple thing. Satoru wants to pull the other glove off with his teeth.

“I’ll return it to you,” he says, a promise. He takes the glove as you hand it to him, leaning forward and chasing the remnants of your fingertips against his once you pull away. “When I win.”

( and maybe then, you’ll understand i am devoted to you, wholly and utterly, if only in these moments and never again. )

There's a knock at the door, brief and soft. A maid, come to drop off another stack of letters.

And just as quickly as Satoru had found himself against you, he’s across the room, opening the door.

As if you had never been there.

The only evidence that he had even touched you is the lace cupped in his palm, middle and index tracing over a minute pearl.

L’Incomparable is a jewel of longing.

Morrow brings with it the beginning of joyous festivities.

You woke to another trousseau. This time, from a distant cousin in the Easternmost kingdom.

Attached was a letter of the newest development in her love life – said development being a defected knight nonetheless.

It made you giggle.

The palace corridors are bustling with life.

Servants and attendants eager to welcome early visitors who have come for the summer solstice, robust back and forth on decorations and food and gossip and many a’ things outside the realm of possibility to be discussed in one sitting.

Your lady in waiting, Areta, whom you’ve known since your youth, creeps into your room with a grin as wide as a war banner – you immediately assume the worst, mischief is your pastime but you fear the poor girl takes ‘eavesdropping on court gossip’ to another level.

“My lady, you would not believe—” Areta huffs, journeying to sit with you on the balcony, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. “The things I’ve heard today!”

“You hear things everyday, I fear.” You indulge her, as always. And she begins to talk your ear off, all in good faith of course.

Down below in the courtyard, is the sound of smacking wood and the occasional chorus of baritone conversation.

Satoru, who should be attending treaty meetings with his father, bides his time sparring on the cobblestone with the other men of the Kingsguard – the noise wakes you most mornings.

“—talking to Julietta, you know? The girl who attends to the countess? And she said—”

You hum along to Areta’s words, eyes peering over the edge of the balcony, gaze fixed on the crown Prince.

His snowy hair is damp with sweat, Victorian style dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, every swing of his wooden sword causes a commotion — muscles in his back flexing under the sunlight, so easily seen beneath the thin white fabric.

“—that her lady told her that she heard from a cousin-in-law who works at the docks that—”

You wonder what expression Satoru has as he pummels through his underlings playfully, hardly sparring but more play fighting. You imagine he’s grinning wide, crystalline blue eyes shimmering with glee—

“—that Prince Geto is coming for the hunt!”

You choke. Audibly.

Areta is quick to shut her mouth and lend you a concerned gaze. “Princess, are you—”

“I’m alright.” You wave a hand, catching your breath. Prince Geto. If you think about it too hard, you fear your chest might burst open and spill out your insides.

Oh, fair reader, it seems

Our dear protagonist has come upon

A treasure trove of memories.

“You were, ehem, saying?” You twirl your index finger in the air as if to prompt a rewind. “About. . .”

Areta raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. “About Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law?” The girl questions, dim.

“No!” You interject immediately, twirling your finger in the other direction. Fast forward. “The other thing— the thing you heard!”

“Oh, about Prince Geto!”

Dearest reader,

Suguru Geto enters.

A man of great mystique,

the northern Prince.

And striking opposite of

our beloved crowned Prince Satoru.

“Yes! About him—”

Suguru Geto.

In many ways you could say he was Satoru’s best friend, his greatest rival and worst enemy all at the same time.

Through solstice events, formal gatherings and other royal duties, the same way you met Satoru, you met Suguru through him.

“Well, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law works at the docks,” Areta begins again, regrettably. “You know? The private harbor where all the spirit and wheat shipments come in, but that's besides the point—”

( suguru was your bestfriend too. in every way it counted. )

“Areta.” You coo, coaxing her to get back to the main point. Why was Suguru coming for the summer solstice hunt? After being away in the North for so long, why now?

The only correspondence you’d had with him was a few letters years ago. And then he stopped writing.

“So, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law saw the Geto family's ship dock in the private harbor!” The girl exclaims hushedly and you hum to yourself, curious.

Rightfully, you’d hold a grudge about never hearing from Suguru.

But in this moment, you feel no resentment or hurt. Instead, excitement that you might see your old friend once more.

And maybe, you, Suguru and Satoru could spend the summer solstice together— just like old times.

( and that’d be enough to get rid of the heat in your chest when satoru gets too close to you. )

Faithful reader,

she could not have been

more wrong.

Four days remain until the summer solstice hunt.

Satoru is scarce around the palace in preparation for his coronation coming soon and treaty arrangements.

You, on the other hand, have exhausted all your hobbies, biding your idle time helping the other ladies at court pick their gowns for tomorrow's feast — the first of seven nightly ones during the solstice.

Another trousseau is delivered to your chambers when you wake.

This time, you’re taken aback.

Instead of an elaborate stack of gifts, a box of jewelry or even a scandalous collection of seductive corsets and nightgowns to remind you of your predicament—

There's a long wooden box, coupled with a sealed parcel.

Inside the box is a beautiful gown, deep burgundy and shapely. Fitted with a low bust cut and short sleeves. It's a mouth watering dress, one you would've bought yourself if you even knew it existed.

But you've never seen a dress designed like this before, down to the intricate details of the underskirts and the hemming.

It's almost intimate.

When you finally open the parcel, you expect a note, but there's none. Instead, inside is a pair of black silk gloves, so smooth it melts in your palms – your mind immediately goes to Satoru and the glove he still holds hostage for you.

You don't think twice before telling Areta that this is what you’ll be wearing to tomorrow’s feast.

( you ought to thank satoru for this gift by wearing it, no? )

˚ ༘ *

The lights in the dining hall are dimmed perfectly to match the moonlight.

When you slip in from the adjacent corridor, greeting visiting nobles and residents of the palace court alike, a sense of nausea floods the pit of your stomach – what will Satoru say when he sees you? Will he like how the dress looks – or rather how you look in it?

Wait, why do you even care?

You’ve never really cared for these things— it must be the tea you had earlier. You nearly feel faint.

Darling reader,

it was in fact,

not the tea.

Your thoughts don't get the chance to linger very long, as the soft hum of music slows to a halt, and everyone begins journeying to their assigned seats.

Naturally, you fiddle with your gloves, not wanting to sit down at the second table yet.

One, it would be very impudent of a lady of your caliber to be seated without a proper escort by a gentleman.

And two, even though you did decline the few men who asked to escort you, you can't help the anxiety that floods your veins when you begin to realize that so many people are sitting already and you're not!

Sure, you're a Princess, but can't a girl be a little shy?

( not that you were waiting for satoru or anything of course. )

Devoted reader,

our protagonist

is in denial.

“It pains me to see such a beautiful lady left unaccompanied.” A voice flits past your ears, so close you can taste it on your tongue — incense, sandalwood.

( oh god, no. )

Your body turns in an instant, almost too quick, and your underskirts almost trip you as the weight sends you wobbling forward.

“Easy—” Suguru Geto’s arm darts out to curl around your waist, steadying you.

“You're here—” “You’re still clumsy—”

The both of you lock eyes at your shared unison of speech, then chuckle to yourselves.

You let your eyes wander over his features, how much he's grown over these past years.

He’s still as ethereal as the royal painters would describe. Prince Geto, the joy to paint, once in an era type beauty, born to be depicted in art, they’d say.

You don't doubt that.

“You look well,” you say. Suguru glances down at you and shakes his head, as if that is too much of a compliment for him to take. “No, honestly— I don't tease, you look very. . . stately.”

“Are you trying to call me old in a polite way, my lady?” He feigns offense, tilting his head to the side a little. You cover your mouth to laugh.

You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your gloves.

( oh, the gloves ! )

“Your highness,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, half teasing, half regal, and you give a brief curtsy, which he counters with a swift bow. “Would you do me the pleasure?” You grin, extending your hand to him.

Suguru — never Prince Geto, not to you at least — had been your solace, your comfort and your refuge.

The greatest friend you could have asked for in your youth.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Suguru whispers, taking your hand in earnest, escorting you over to the table and pulling your chair out for you — settling himself in the seat across from you, on the other side of the table.

( what a coincidence. )

˚ ༘ *

Time passes in waves.

People are whispering, no doubt. As they always do about you. No matter how hushed, you always hear them.

‘Look at the poor Princess consort, sitting beside an empty chair.’

‘You’d think she’d refer to herself as Lady now instead of Consort—’

‘To think even a Princess is not immune from such things. . .’

‘These things happen when you're sold off to a future King.’

“Bitter.”

Your head snaps up at the sound, dessert fork halting mid stab into your slice of cake.

Suguru’s eyes meet yours, as if he’d been looking at you the entire time, like he reads your thoughts as his own.

The people sitting at the table alongside you both fix their attention on him, the whispers halting.

“The cake,” he leans back in his chair, shrugging strands of his hair out of his face, looking down the length of the table at the spectators, nonchalant. “It's terribly bitter.”

You think you’d open your mouth to scold him a little, to not joke about what people say, royals should never engage in such petty gossip – but instead, you smile in gratitude.

( bitter. everybody's so bitter in this place. )

“That's quite unfortunate.” A familiar voice rings out, your fork sliding out of your hand to rest on the edge of your plate. “I hoped it would be rather sweet tonight.”

When you look over your shoulder, Satoru is already at your side, bending a knee and outstretching an open palm to you. “My Princess.”

He looks. . . disheveled.

Not completely out of order, it's something so small — so minute that only those who know him well would be able to point it out. From the crease of his vest to the shaky rasp in his voice—

And the woman in your peripheral stumbling back into the dining hall from the garden entrance on shaky legs. . .

( so that's what he was doing. )

“Your grace,” leaves your lips in a whisper and he kisses the back of your palm before sinking into his seat.

The way he presses his middle finger against his bottom lip like he’d been burned by the silk makes you raise an eyebrow. Does he not even have the common courtesy of pretending to like the gloves he gifted?

“I’m pleased you took time out of your busy schedule for us regular people.” Suguru chuckles, and Satoru’s mother, sitting near you all at the head table seems far from pleased.

“Well, a small act of kindness goes a long way.” Satoru parries and you force a smile, stabbing your dessert once more. “Especially for someone as regular as you, Prince Suguru.”

If you had initially thought this would be a quaint rekindling of an old childhood friendship, you never felt more wrong than in this moment — the air settles thick between you three.

“Isn't the future King Gojo just so kind?” Suguru addresses you, and you swallow, stifling your laugh.

“I pray for your marriage. . .” One of the Dukes seated at the table jests, to which you fiddle with the hem of your dress, the burgundy falling over your palms as a chorus of laughter ensues.

Marriage.

Suguru notices your gaze on him – or rather far away – and he smiles to snap you out of it. “Lady name?”

Just then Satoru’s hand reaches for yours under the table, halting your fiddling with the fabric, his grip steady and soft.

“Princess Consort.” Satoru interjects with a flat lipped smile, which could be perceived as kind, but to Suguru. . . “She changed titles.”

When was the last time someone called you by your name and not Princess consort? Always that. Not even Princess name.

“Pardon me,” you mumble beneath your breath, your grip on your dress going slack. You shrug your hand free from Satoru’s grip, abandoning your seat in an instant.

Satoru rises from his chair only four seconds afterward.

“Name—” he calls to you, following you out of the dining hall and down a vacant corridor.

Your footsteps evade him as he chases after you wide steps.

But he stops dead in his tracks when he hears you slam the door to an empty side room shut.

My dearest reader,

brace yourself for the

next publication.

Your kind author

bids you farewell.

#⋆ 🪷 A ROYAL AFFAIR ! ˚ ༘ *#👑 TSCC — series.#★ driaswrld #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fic

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xtra7s · 3 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 ──── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee just preformed on SNL, returning to her girlfriend after the show.

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!reader

word count: 800

a/n: literally just fluff. Enjoy lovies.

masterlist

Reneé Rapp couldn't believe her luck. She had been invited to be the musical guest on Saturday Night Live, a dream come true for the rising star. The buzz surrounding her performance was electric, and the anticipation only fueled her excitement. As she stood in the wings, waiting for her cue, she took a deep breath, reminding herself that this was the culmination of years of hard work.

The lights dimmed, and the familiar SNL opening theme played as Reneé took the stage. The cheers from the audience were deafening, and she couldn't help but smile as she began to sing. Her voice, a captivating blend of power and emotion, resonated through the studio.

The performance was nothing short of mesmerizing. Reneé's voice filled the studio, capturing the hearts of everyone present. The audience was hooked, and the SNL cast and crew couldn't help but be in awe of her talent. When the last note echoed through the room, the applause was thunderous. Reneé soaked in the applause, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over her.

After the show, Reneé found herself backstage, still buzzing with adrenaline. She was surrounded by the cast and crew, congratulating her on a fantastic performance. Among the sea of faces, Y/N, her girlfriend, stood among the bustling crew, eagerly anticipating Reneé's return. When the backstage door swung open, revealing the beaming singer, Y/N's eyes lit up.

"Reneé, that was incredible!" Y/N exclaimed, rushing to embrace her.

Reneé grinned, still basking in the afterglow of her performance. "Thanks, baby! I'm so glad you could make it."

The couple shared a quick kiss, and Y/N couldn't hide her pride for Reneé's success. "You were born for that stage," she whispered.

Reneé smiled widely, pulling Y/N into a hug. "Thank you baby" She murmured against Y/N's neck.

As the excitement of the night continued, Y/N suggested they retreat to Reneé's dressing room for a more private celebration. The room was filled with bouquets of flowers and congratulatory notes, a testament to the success of the evening.

They sat together on the plush couch, basking in the glow of the post-performance euphoria. Reneé reached for Y/N's hand, intertwining their fingers.

"I'm so proud of you, Reneé. You were amazing out there," Y/N said, gazing into her girlfriend's eyes.

Reneé felt a warmth in her chest, realizing how fortunate she was to have Y/N in her life. "Thank you, love. And having you here makes it even more special."

The dressing room was filled with a warm glow as Reneé and Y/N shared a tender moment. Reneé, still riding the high of her SNL performance, felt a surge of affection for the person who had been there for her through thick and thin.

Reneé's lips met Y/N's in a soft, lingering kiss, a sweet expression of the love and pride that filled the air. As they pulled away, Reneé couldn't help but smile, her heart full.

"I can't believe tonight actually happened," Reneé admitted, nuzzling into the crook of Y/N's neck.

Y/N's fingers traced gentle circles on Reneé's back, savoring the closeness. "You were absolutely stunning out there. The whole world got to see what I've known all along – that you're incredibly talented."

Blushing, Reneé chuckled. "You always know how to make me feel special. I'm lucky to have you."

Y/N tilted Reneé's chin up to meet her gaze. "No, I'm the lucky one. I get to be with the amazing Reneé Rapp, the star of SNL."

Reneé playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it. I'm just me."

"Just you?" Y/N grinned. "You're the person who fills my life with music, laughter, and love. That's not 'just' anything."

The sincerity in Y/N's words melted Reneé's heart. "You're the one who keeps me grounded, Y/N. Everything feels right with you."

Y/N cupped Reneé's face, her thumb brushing lightly across her cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Reneé whispered, sealing their promise with another soft kiss.

They sat there, wrapped up in each other's warmth, sharing sweet nothings and dreams for the future. The dressing room became a sanctuary, a place where the magic of their connection transcended the glamour of the spotlight.

As they whispered words of love and support, the night carried on outside the door. But in that moment, all that mattered was the soft glow of the lights, the gentle kisses, and the unspoken promise that their love would continue to grow, just like the music that would forever bind them together.

#wlw #lesbian #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #the sex lives of college girls #lgbtq

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maniacwatchestheworld · 3 months

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Making up things about Danny Phantom herb lore for fun #1: Blood Blossoms

The specifics as to why Blood Blossoms have such strong ghost-repelling qualities are still unknown. The Blood Blossom flower has a strong and pleasant smell and is edible by humans, having a light, flowery, and sweet flavor to them. Traditionally, it was often used as a famine food, and it was not uncommon for the flowers to be put on bread as they were- cut straight from the stem- and consumed with a bit of butter. As summer turns to autumn, unharvested blood blossoms turn into a fruit known more colloquially as 'Blood Berries.' Blood berries are also edible by humans, maintaining a similar level of sweetness as their flowers, but with a much richer, often overpowering taste. As such, the berries would often be reduced and put into jars of preservers or used as a marinade for meats. Only a little was needed to draw out the richer dimensions of food. While the scent of blood berries will still drive away ghosts, the scent of blood berries is not as strong as their flower counterpart unless actively being cooked. However, dried blood berries, and preserves using them tend to keep especially well in the cold winter months.

While one may assume that Blood Blosdoms were named for their vibrant, red, blood-like hue, it is thought by many historians that blood blossoms were especially favored by the Blood family who hailed from England, and it was them who named the flower. The Blood family's coat of arms features a design that incorporates flowers that look very similar to blood blossoms, perhaps proving to be evidence of this theory.

There are many theories as to why Blood Blossoms repel ghosts, among which is the idea that the scent of these flowers is exceedingly repulsive to ghosts, that something in their chemical makeup makes ectoplasm react in adverse ways when a ghost consumes one, or that it is a component of ghost-repelling spells- therefore ghosts feel a natural aversion to them. However one legend purposes that the reason for why ghosts are repelled by blood blossoms stems from their origin- There is a legend that says that once upon a time, a man would secretly worship at a shrine to a local forest spirit of life and the harvest. The man and his family had been cursed by evil spirits some years before, and where the Christain God had forsaken him and his family, the gentle forest spirit took pity on him and gave him what help she could. He did not have much to offer her. He would work all day in the field and barely yield enough to feed his family. His wife had been injured some years before and so could not work the fields with him anymore, nor could she even ready his meals for him when he returned home each day. And his daughters had fallen under some kind of mysterious illness that, while it fortunately had yet to take their lives, also refused to subside. Still, what little he could spare he would sacrifice to the forest spirit in hopes that she would bring them better fortune, a better crop, and protection from the evil spirits that had cursed him and his family. But one day he came to the nature spirit's alter, a gaping wound in his chest. The ghosts that had cursed his family before had returned for their souls. He did what he could- cast incantations around his humble home, but this injury had been the cost of trying to keep his family safe. The spirits were stronger than his incantations, and it would not be long until the spirits broke through them. He begged the goddess to protect and help his family. Without him, how would they eat? How would his family survive? The humble farmer died on the forest spirit's alter. She wept for the man who sacrificed everything he could to her to protect his family. And so she thought that the least she could do was to grant his wish. Plants erupted from the ground where his blood had spilled, bearing bright red flowers with black thorns. They traveled along the forest path to his home, where they surrounded the building, forcing the ghosts away. They would never return to hurt the family ever again. And with the spirits gone, the daughters were able to heal from the illness. It was soon discovered as they trimmed the wild black thorns back that the flowers were edible and delicious too. The stems and twigs burned especially hot, helping them to keep their hearth warm throughout all the autumn and winter. And the berries kept all the winter through. And so the man's wishes had all come true. For the rest of their days, his family would be protected from the spirits that had haunted them, and they would never need to go hungry ever again.

#danny phantom #danny phantom headcanon #danny phantom herb lore #herb lore #dpxdc #dp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom x dc #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc au #blood blossoms

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sinkovia · 2 months

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The Coliseum

Gladiator Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Violence, blood, mention of death.

Masterlist

In the splendor of the royal box, you, the princess, watched with bated breath as the gladiatorial games unfolded below. Among the fierce warriors, one figure stood out to you. The way his eyes looked up at you with a mixture of admiration and longing made your heart yearn for him.

As Simon emerged victorious, you approached him with reverence, a crown of delicate flowers clasped gently in your hands. With adoration shining in your eyes, you lifted the floral adornment and placed it upon his head, a gesture of respect and admiration for his remarkable fight.

Your voice reached his ears like a soothing melody. "What is your name?" your words carrying a softness that made Simon's heart flutter within his chest.

"Simon," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he bowed his head in deference, feeling unworthy to be in the presence of such grace and beauty.

"You fought with honor, Simon, something I rarely see" your praise washed over him like a soothing balm to his weary soul. With gentle hands, you took a fragrant cloth and wiped away the traces of blood from his face, your touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

As a final act of gratitude and affection, one that filled his heart with warmth, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving him feeling as though he had been touched by an angel.

Simon was hesitant to entertain any feelings for you, knowing the risks involved in falling for the daughter of the king. He was a gladiator, a man bound by duty and honor, and the idea of getting involved with royalty seemed both reckless and forbidden.

However, you were always there to see him fight, sitting at the edge of your seat praying to the gods above to keep him safe. And every time he came out victorious you would be there placing a crown of flowers you had woven together on his head, smiling up at him, and placing a kiss upon his cheek.

Simon found himself drawn to you, the princess whose grace and kindness shone like a beacon in the darkness of the coliseum. Despite his initial reluctance to entangle himself with royalty, Simon couldn't deny the growing affection he felt for you, a love that bloomed quietly in the shadows, hidden from prying eyes.

Your meetings in secret became the highlight of his days, each stolen moment filled with whispered confessions and tender caresses. In your arms, he found solace from the brutality of the arena, his heart beating in rhythm with yours, bound by a love that defied all odds.

The shadows of secrecy could only conceal your love for so long. When your father discovered the truth of your forbidden romance, he devised a cruel plan to teach you a lesson.

Your father, driven by rage, forced Simon into a duel against the most formidable warrior in the land. Towering over Simon, the opponent loomed like a mountain, casting a shadow over the arena with his imposing stature.

With every ounce of strength and determination, Simon fought valiantly, his every move a testament to his unwavering love for you. But the odds were stacked against him, and despite his best efforts, he was ultimately overpowered by the brute force of his adversary.

You watched in agony as Simon fell to the ground, his body battered and broken, while the deafening cheers of the crowd echoed in your ears like a cruel mockery of your grief. You cried out, your anguished scream piercing through the crowd. Ignoring your father's desperate attempts to restrain you, you broke free from his grasp and raced down to the arena, your heart breaking with each step.

In your grief-fueled rage, you lashed out, pushing aside anyone who dared stand in your way. With a single motion, you sent a soldier trying to restrain you tumbling down the steps, his neck snapping with a sickening crunch as his body rolled to the bottom.

When you reached the arena you grasped Simon's sword with trembling hands and as the warrior who had robbed you of your beloved raised his hands in triumph, basking in the cheers of the crowd, you plunged the sword deep into his back. The crowd erupted into shocked gasps as they witnessed the princess, their beloved royalty, committing a brazen act of violence before their eyes.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you collapsed beside Simon's lifeless form, the weight of grief and despair pressing heavily upon your heart. Tenderly, you cradled his face in your trembling hands, your fingertips tracing the contours of his features. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips softly against his, a final gesture of love and longing.

But as your lips met his the shocked gasps of the crowd echoed around you, their disapproval thick in the air. In that moment, you were acutely aware of the gaping divide between your station as royalty and Simon's humble existence as a gladiator. Yet, despite the scornful glares and muttering voices, you refused to let go of the man who had captured your heart so completely.

Among the spectators, your father let out a cry of anguish, his voice reverberating with fury and disbelief at the display unfolding before him.

As the king's guards advanced towards you, their expressions a mix of apprehension and determination, you knew that your fate was sealed. With resolve burning brightly within you, you reached for the small dagger strapped to your thigh, a gift from Simon for your protection.

With a steady hand and a resolve born of unwavering love, you drew the blade across your throat, the searing pain nothing to the agony within your heart.

As the crimson blood stained the pristine fabric of your gown, the collective gasps and cries of the onlookers reached a fever pitch, mingling with the anguished wails of your father.

As your blood mixed with Simon's on the bloodstained earth of the arena, you knew that in death, you would find solace in the arms of your beloved, united for eternity in a love that transcended even the boundaries of mortality and the barriers of royalty and status.

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hoshifighting · 3 months

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Synopsis: In a place where good and evil, angels and demons are divided. The angel Joshua feels enchanted and attracted by the beauty outside of Paradise, governed by you, who is a rebellious angel who lives in worldly certainties.

Joshua! Celestial Angel X Reader! Shadow Angel

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), penetrative sex, wings, dark eyes, flying, partly innocent Joshua, sinners, disrespecting the heavenly order bc of love.

In this peculiar realm where opposing forces clashed, the angelic and demonic entities found themselves in a perpetual dance of contradiction. — Day and night, good and bad, right or wrong— You, a being demon with grand black wings and your body draped in silky obsidian fabric, had transitioned from the celestial paradise to the earthly abode. It was a place adorned with greenery, a paradise for humans, yet deemed a hell by the angelic standards.

Your eyes, once accustomed to the pristine skies, now adjusted to the vibrant chaos of this earthly haven. The scent of flowers, the rustle of leaves, and the myriad of colors all around became your new reality.

One day, as you wandered through the arborized paradise, you witnessed an angel sent by the gods, radiant in celestial grace, descend from the heavens. Their mission: to carry out acts of benevolence and rescue the flawed human race from the pitfalls of their own humanity.

Once, you were an angel too, soaring through the celestial expanse with wings as radiant as the morning sun. The rules of paradise, however, felt like constraints on your very essence. The mandate to help the helpless, devoid of personal desires and sensations, left you yearning for something more.

In the heavenly realm, your duties were clear. You mended broken spirits, offered solace to the suffering, and shielded humanity from unseen perils. Yet, as you carried out these acts of benevolence, a part of you longed for the tangible experiences that the gods had chosen to withhold.

In your descent from the celestial heights, the air crackled with the energy of rebellion. The moment your feet touched the earthly ground, you felt the soft embrace of grass beneath you, a stark departure from the ethereal firmament you once called home. The celestial light dimmed as you exchanged the radiant wings for the cloak of shadows, and you marveled at the newfound weight of your choices.

The earthly realm welcomed you with open arms, and you relished the sensations that had been denied to you for so long. The warmth of the sun, the cool breeze, and the fragrant whispers of nature surrounded you, each moment a symphony of earthly delights. As you walked through the arborized paradise, your senses were heightened, and the mundane took on a profound significance.

The angels above, oblivious to your departure, continued their celestial duties. you discovered a different kind of duty – a duty to experience, to explore, and to understand the complexities of existence, discovering uncharted territories of free will.

The wide green grass of the earthly realm spread beneath the azure sky, a canvas of vibrant colors. In this paradisiacal haven, you observed with both amusement and curiosity as angels, once bound by celestial rules, now embraced the newfound freedom, their wings cloaked in shades of darkness.

Among them was Joshua, the paragon of loyalty to the gods. His wings, a radiant expanse of white, glowed in stark contrast to the gathering shadows. As he moved gracefully through the earthly realm, his every action seemed guided by divine purpose.

One day, on the expansive grassy plains, you watched Joshua intervene with gentle precision, preventing a little boy from stumbling. The child, oblivious to the celestial forces at play, continued on his way, and Joshua stood there, a guardian of earthly innocence.

A subtle shiver coursed down Joshua's spine, and cold breezes swept over him as you approached. He turned, his white wings fluttering like a beacon of celestial purity, and met your gaze with a mixture of apprehension and recognition.

"If you're not here to help, I suggest you leave," Joshua declared, his voice unwavering but laced with a hint of tension.

You scoffed, the echoes of rebellion resounding in your words, "This place doesn't belong to you or your gods above. The rules of the celestial paradise have no power here. We're free to embrace the richness of earthly existence, to revel in the balance between light and shadow."

Joshua's eyes reflected the conflict within him, torn between the loyalty to divine orders and the allure of the newfound freedom. "You may have turned away from the gods, but I won't abandon my duty. The balance must be maintained, even if it means standing against those who have forsaken it."

"You defy the gods and abandon your celestial duties for what? The whims of the earthly realm?" he questioned, his wings twitching uncomfortably.

"Is it not clear?" you replied, your own wings casting shadows over the verdant ground. "To experience, to feel, to understand the very essence of existence that was denied to us above. The gods may have favored you, Joshua, but they also imprisoned you in a golden cage."

A moment of tense silence hung in the air before Joshua spoke again, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and defiance. "You're playing with forces you cannot comprehend. The celestial order must be maintained, even if it means sacrificing personal desires."

The smirk on your face persisted as you nodded negatively, a silent defiance against the old rules that once dictated your every move. With a fluid motion, your wings unfurled, and you took to the air, flying in joyous circles above the lush forest. The freedom, the unrestricted movement, it was a sensation you had longed for, and now, you reveled in it.

Below, Joshua watched your aerial dance, his eyes betraying a longing for the unbridled freedom he had not yet embraced. The desire to soar with you, to feel the wind beneath his own transformed wings, was palpable.

In a playful moment, you pretended to fall, letting your wings come to a sudden stop. The earth rushed up to meet you, but just before impact, you felt gentle arms enveloping you.

As you both landed gracefully, he looked into your eyes, a mix of concern and curiosity reflecting in his gaze. "Why, after all this rebellion, do you persist in being alone?" Joshua asked, his voice carrying a soft undertone.

"I'm not alone. I am free." You tell him, and he lowers his head. "I wish you could feel this freedom too, Joshua," you said, your voice carrying a touch of genuine longing.

With those words, your wings began to work, creating a gust of wind that gently pushed against Joshua. As the currents separated you from his grasp, his once-protective arms now fell to his sides, and he watched as you ascended into the sky.

The verdant canopy of the forest below shrank as you soared higher, leaving Joshua behind. The cool air rushed past you, and the earthly realm unfolded beneath your wings. You glanced back, seeing Joshua below, a silhouette against the backdrop of the vibrant landscape.

His white wings, still pristine and shining, spoke of the loyalty he clung to. Yet, a flicker of yearning shimmered in his eyes, a desire to taste the forbidden freedom that now embraced you.

Days passed without a glimpse of Joshua, and an unusual presence lingered in the dark forest. The other demons tilted their heads in confusion as Joshua, with his glowing bright wings, ventured into the shadowy realm that was more accustomed to beings of darker nature. His desperate search for you seemed to defy the very essence of what angels were meant to be.

Meanwhile, from afar, you sensed Joshua's presence. His purity and celestial aura wafted through the air like an irresistible fragrance. The contrast of his untainted soul against the backdrop of the dark forest made his essence stand out. A voice, silky and enticing, echoed in his ear, "Searching for me?"

Joshua glanced around, his bright wings flickering anxiously in the dim light. The voice beckoned him, growing louder with each passing moment. He followed, seemingly uncoordinated, the sound pulling him deeper into the heart of the forest.

The voice, now clear and seductive, guided Joshua to a serene spot by a river, a cascade providing a soothing background melody. The dense forest closed in, creating a natural barrier around the secluded haven. Joshua hesitated, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through his veins.

As he stood at the edge of the river, your voice ceased its alluring call. Joshua felt a shiver run down his spine as he turned to face the source of the voice. There, emerging from the river, was your figure, adorned in wet, glistening attire, your wings draped sensuously around your naked body.

Joshua's breath caught in his throat as he beheld your luscious presence, his glowing wings flickering nervously. A distinct gulp resonated in the stillness of the forest as he struggled to compose himself. Your question hung in the air, breaking the silence.

"Why are you here, Joshua?" you asked, your voice a velvet whisper that danced on the edge of the cascading waterfall. The shadows cast by the dense foliage played upon your figure, enhancing the mystery that surrounded you.

Joshua paused, his voice filled with both uncertainty and a deep yearning. "I came looking for answers," he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. "The celestial realms are in chaos, and I can't ignore the call pulling me back. But..." He hesitated, as if struggling to find the right words. "There's something about this, about being here with you, that I can't quite understand."

You tilted your head, your dark eyes locked onto Joshua's, as a mysterious air enveloped the forest. His chin quivered under the intensity of your gaze, and the vulnerability in his eyes revealed a tumultuous inner struggle.

With a graceful movement, you unfurled your wings, their shadowy expanse revealing a body that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The ethereal sight was enough to make Joshua turn away, covering his eyes as if he couldn't bear to witness such an intimate revelation. The celestial rules, the mysteries of the earthly realm, and the lack of answers all converged, leaving him in a state of overwhelming confusion.

You couldn't resist a sly smirk as you traced a hand along his back, your fingers leaving a cold touch that made his wings tremble.

"What answers are you seeking, Joshua?" you asked, your voice a gentle yet probing whisper that hung in the air. He remained turned away, as if the weight of the question and the complexity of the situation made it difficult for him to face you.

Joshua stammered, his words tumbling out in uncertainty. "I-I don't know exactly," he admitted, his voice wavering. "I've been feeling strange, and everything seems... hot."

A sly smirk played on your lips as you inquired further, "And why do you think you feel this way, Joshua?"

His hesitation lingered in the air before he finally confessed, "It's... it's when I think about you."

A soft hum escaped your lips, the sound carrying a mysterious melody. As Joshua turned around, attempting to fix his gaze on your eyes, he found it impossible. Your body, bathed in the moonlight, seemed like a forbidden fruit tempting him with its alluring glow.

He struggled to articulate his thoughts, caught in a web of conflicting emotions. "I... I can't understand it. It's like an allure, a pull that I can't resist. When I see you, when I think about you, everything becomes... different."

Your eyes held a knowing glint as you observed him, the dichotomy of his celestial purity and the earthly desires that now stirred within him unfolded in the charged atmosphere.

"And why are you seeking me?" you asked, your voice a seductive whisper that seemed to echo through the quiet forest.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice a mixture of vulnerability and desire. "There's something about you, something I can't ignore. It's like you hold the answers to questions I didn't even know I had."

"You're risking more than you realize by searching for these answers," you warned, your voice carrying a note of caution. The forest seemed to hold its breath, as if echoing the weight of the choices that hung in the air.

Joshua nodded, a mixture of determination and desperation in his eyes. "I know," he admitted, his voice filled with a heavy acknowledgment of the stakes involved. "But I can't continue to listen to this voice in my head, this constant tug. I need to figure out what it means, why it leads me to you."

You stepped closer, the distance between you and Joshua narrowing as the air around you became charged with an undeniable energy. For the first time, Joshua didn't flinch; instead, he closed his eyes, feeling your breath against his skin. The atmosphere held a tantalizing mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Your fingers gently entwined with his, and you guided his hands to trace a path along your neck, down to your breasts brushing your nipples and grabbing them tight, then your waist, and further to your hips. The warmth of your body seemed to seep into his very being, causing a subtle tremor to run through him.

Joshua's breaths came out defeated, without hesitation, you smashed your lips onto his, the kiss born from a fusion of celestial rebellion and earthly desire. Joshua, lost in the tumult of conflicting emotions, didn't even know what he was doing or why his body was growing hotter with each passing moment.

His tongue brushed gently against yours, in that stolen moment, he consumed your alluring lips with a hunger that seemed to emanate from the depths of his being. The forest, draped in shadows and moonlight, bore witness to the intimate exchange between an angel and a demon.

Joshua's hands explored the contours of your heated body, the mystery of your touch captivating him. As his fingers traced over your form, he sought to understand the allure that made your skin feel so intoxicatingly good beneath his touch.

With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled you closer, melding your bodies together in a desperate embrace. The collision of celestial and earthly energies sent shivers through both of you. A moan escaped your lips, a sound that reverberated through the charged air, resonating with the very essence of desire.

Joshua, startled by the unfamiliar sensations that surged within him, sharply inhaled, his breath mingling with yours. His cock twitches inside of his vest and he bites his lips, in confusion and arousal, as the boundaries between light and shadow blurred in the intensity of the moment. "It hurts."

"I'll help you, pretty angel."

As Joshua's vest found its way to the ground, pooling around his feet, you gently laid him on the grass. The vibrant flowers seemed to come alive, surrounding his figure with a lively burst of colors as if nature itself responded to his angelic presence.

He watched you with curious eyes, uncertainty and desire playing out in the depths of his gaze. The teachings of his god echoed in his mind, warning him against revealing his naked body to anyone. Yet, the dark allure in your eyes held a power he couldn't resist.

Your gaze lingered on his exposed form, and a subtle, wicked smile played on your lips. He felt a thrill as you licked your lips, looking at him with a hunger that he never saw before. His hard pink cock looks veiny, tearing precum, while his eyes keep locked on your movements, waiting for your next move curiously.

With parted lips, you let your breath brush his dick, making him quiver. Joshua didn't have an idea about what you were going to do, he just wanted to relieve that thing that kept him hard for so long.

As you press your tongue on his leaking slit, Joshua moans involuntary, you looked so sinful dragging his cock inside of your mouth, cheeks full of his pretty dick. He looks hypnotized, by the way you bob your head on his hard length, your eyes locked with him— that powerful gaze you hold making him blush hard.

You sucked his length hard, and the angel hisses, trying to control his hips as you dive his dick inside of your throat. His cock twitched with pleasure, and you could feel his orgasm approaching, with eyes shut, he moaned continuously, his abdomen trembling trying to hold that sensation that burned his body.

Joshua was the most angelical person below the gods that you ever knew. He walked around with those filled wings, his well structured body hidden by his white vest, and those heavenly eyes— But now he looked so perverse under your touch, his bottom lip bitten between his teeth, his hand holding the measure of your hair, while his cock was buried inside of your mouth.

"Cum inside of my mouth." You whimper, your tongue licking his hard veins.

"C-cum? Inside? C-can I?" He stuttered unsure, he was hearing right? He can actually cum inside of your pretty lips? How did he miss this opportunity for so long?

Beads of cum escape him before you could even answer. The sticky cum, filling your mouth and as a result, leaking by the sides of your mouth. He cries, cries, and cries proud moans of your name, the first pleasure experience running from his toes to his last strand of hair.

His dick stands proudly hard even after he just cummed, and you raise your eyebrow surprised. Joshua still with the remaining pleasure running through his body, raised to kiss you, his tongue fighting yours as he tasted himself on your lips, later, licking the little residue of his cum that lazed on the corner of your mouth.

After the kiss, a newfound determination glinted in Joshua's eyes. Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you had given him, he chewed his lip nervously, unsure of how to proceed. The angelic teachings he had followed never prepared him for sex, or to pleasure someone.

"What's on your mind, Joshua?" you inquired, your voice a sultry whisper that mingled with the rustling leaves.

"I want to pleasure you like you just did for me, but I don't know how," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice echoing the complexities of his celestial nature.

You reached out, your fingers tracing a gentle path along his cheek.

He took a deep breath, his angelic features reflecting a blend of determination and curiosity. "Guide me, show me what you like," he whispered.

"I want you to do whatever you want''

Joshua, moved by a mixture of desire and uncertainty, took a step back to take a proper look at you. His eyes roamed over your figure, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze like a caress against your skin, laying your back on the ground, that feels soft since your wings made a nest for you to lay.

He spread your legs, his soft fingers finding their way to your sopping cunt, since he saw you naked, it was like he couldn't take his eyes from your pussy. The digits explore your wet folds, and he moans at the feeling of your arousal getting his fingers drenched.

Taking a look at his fingers, glistening with your slick, he shoves his own fingers inside of his mouth, tasting your arousal. You moan at his action, and he closes his eyes, the taste making his cock twitch.

As he opens his eyes, he guides his fingers again to your cunt, when his fingers rub at your clit, you whimper his name.

Joshua did this accidentally, but that beautiful sound you made, instincts Joshua to do the same movement against your bud, again, again and again. He was loving the view of your body squirming because of him.

The little hole under your clit caught his attention, so he slid his two fingers in, making your back arch. "Yes! Yes! Oh fuck."

Your hands grab his forearm, guiding him to pump his fingers in and out of your pussy, the wet sound echoing on Joshua's mind, making his cock ache 'cause he feels so hard. Your cunt leaks, and his fingers are buried inside of your spamming pussy, the delicate fingers making you drool, your eyes rolling back.

You squirmed under angel skillful touch, a sensation you hadn't anticipated after witnessing so much under the heavens. His fingers worked with a certain expertise, guided by your reactions. Amidst the pleasure that danced through the night, you found words caught between gasps and moans.

"You're far from being an angel," you admitted, the words escaping your lips in a breathy whisper.

As you watched Joshua, a flicker of something unusual caught your attention – a brief moment when his bright irises seemed to turn black, only to return to their angelic glow. His celestial face tilted with curiosity as your reaction unfolded before him. The subtle transformation left you momentarily unsettled.

His innocent gaze met yours, and he asked, "Did I do something wrong?" The innocence in his voice contrasted sharply with the skilled touch that pressed against the right spot, causing you to arch your back involuntarily.

You were far from composed, pleasure coursing through your veins, and you struggled to form a coherent response. Instead, a moan escaped your lips, and you found yourself unable to answer his question properly.

"Y-your eyes," you stuttered, the unexpected flicker of darkness lingering in your mind as a knot tightened in your stomach.

"What about my eyes?" he asked, attempting to talk to you while your pussy throbbed around his fingers, as your gasps and moans painted a different language. "Tell me," Joshua urged, his angelic face tilting with genuine concern. But your response was lost inside of your pornographic moans.

The words you intended to speak were lost as a powerful wave of pleasure engulfed you. Your body spasmed uncontrollably, and Joshua's fingers, now slick with your arousal, continued to fuck you. A low hum of satisfaction escaped him as he witnessed the intensity of your release.

The world around you faded into white for a moment as the orgasm overtook your senses, leaving you in a state of blissful surrender. Your lips parted, and your throat couldn't pour any song, only the wet sinful sounds that your pussy made, as Joshua continued non stop.

hold his forearm still, as oversensitivity lingered in the aftermath of pleasure. You took a deep breath, trying to regain composure, as Joshua's fingers withdrew, leaving you in the wake of the intense sensations.

"What was it about my eyes?"

"Your eyes... did they just... change?" The question hung in the air as Joshua's eyes flickered again, that momentary darkness replacing the celestial glow.

Joshua's eyes flickered again, as if in response to the conversation. "I don't know what you mean,"

"It's like, for a moment, they turn black, and then they're bright again,"

Joshua's eyes flickered once more, a subtle change that you keenly observed. "Did they do it again just now?" he asked, searching your face for any sign of confirmation.

The revelation about Joshua's changing eyes left you in a state of perplexity. Conflicting emotions swirled within you—fear mingled with an inexplicable arousal. As you nodded in acknowledgment, Joshua caught a glimpse of the mixture of emotions in your eyes.

Joshua, perceptive to the nuances of your emotions, caught a glimpse of the little scared eyes that betrayed the conflict within you.

"Are you scared?" Joshua asked, his voice gentle, a reflection of the concern in his eyes.

It wasn't because you were a demon in the midst of mundane certainties in the world, that you didn't feel afraid, you were like any other human being in relation to your emotions, just like angels. So you hesitated before nodding again, admitting to the mix of emotions that surged within you.

Your black dark wings created contrast with your eyes that shone with uncertainty, while the angel and you were naked in the middle of the enchanted forest, which welcomed your bodies.

Joshua, sensing your vulnerability, reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. His touch was tender, a contrast to the intensity of the revelations that had unfolded in the enchanted forest.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and compassion. The glow of his celestial nature seemed to soften, as if trying to offer reassurance in the face of the unknown.

You leaned into his touch, the conflicting emotions within you slowly settling under the warmth of his hands. The fear and arousal still lingered, creating a complex emotional landscape that neither of you fully understood.

"I don't know what's happening," Joshua admitted, a hint of confusion in his voice. The mysterious flicker in his eyes remained an enigma.

"It's not just fear," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... something else too."

As Joshua held you close, his hands gently caressing your face, he asked with a soft intensity, "What is it, then? What else are you feeling?" his voice a soft murmur that blended with the rustle of leaves in the enchanted forest. The shadows played on his features as he awaited your response, the moonlight casting a gentle glow over the scene.

"I want to feel you so bad," you confessed, the honesty hanging in the air like a secret unveiled.

Joshua, meeting your gaze, didn't respond immediately. The flicker of darkness in his eyes seemed to intensify for a moment, as if in response to the shared desire. Then, with a quiet sincerity, he admitted, "I want that too."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a hungry kiss. As the kiss deepened, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensations of lips meeting in a passionate union. Joshua's touch, once angelically pure, now held a fervor that almost burned your skin.

As Joshua aligned with your core, a moan escaped your lips, swallowed by the passionate kiss that bound you both. The slick, intimate contact left you unable to focus on the kiss, your breath hitching with each movement.

Joshua, feeling the wetness and heat, hissed at the intensity of the sensation. His celestial mind, guided by an instinct he didn't fully understand, urged him into uncharted territory.

In the heat of the moment, you found yourself begging, your voice breathless and filled with desire. "Please," you whispered, the word escaping in a desperate plea, "put it inside."

Joshua, caught in the whirlwind of sensations and your urgent request, felt his breath struggle. His angelic features reflected the internal struggle between celestial restraint and the willing to fuck you.

"I... I can't resist," he admitted, his voice strained. "I..." he hesitated, the conflict evident in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

Teasingly, you whispered into Joshua's ear, "You're such a naughty angel, a sinner in this earth realm." Your words, laden with desire, seemed to stir something within him. His eyes flickered on and off, on and off, almost flashing, a subtle dance between the purity of an angel, and his alter ego.

"You like being a little sinner, don't you?" you continued, your voice a seductive murmur. "Indulging in desires you never knew you had."

"I can't..." he began, the struggle evident in his voice. "I shouldn't..."

His eyes flickered on and off, a rapid dance of light and darkness. You could sense the internal battle waging within him, the struggle between celestial obedience and the enticing allure of earthly desires.

As you continued to playfully provoke him, he closed his eyes, a deep breath escaping him. The conflict etched on his face reflected the dichotomy of an angel losing himself to the irresistible pull of the shadows.

"You're testing me," he murmured, his voice a mixture of vulnerability and desire.

"You want this, don't you?" you continued, cooing. "You want to fuck this pussy, and let go all of those fucking heavenly rules and just feel this pussy tight around your cock."

His eyes flickered on and off in response.

"I never thought I'd see an angel like you so... tempted," you continued, your voice a seductive whisper.

You wrap a hand around his cock, the tips leaking precum, as you begin to stroke his dick, you caress the pink head with your thumb, adding to the sensory overload that seemed to consume him.

"I'm just teasing you," you whispered, a sultry tone lingering in the air.

The playfulness in your voice was met with a warning from Joshua, his tone dropping into a more serious register, furrowing his brows and the clenching of his jaw.

"I don't know if you should be doing that," he warned, his voice carrying a sense of caution.

The sultry air seemed to vibrate with anticipation as you moaned, your voice carrying a hint of desire. You dared to ask Joshua, "So, what are you going to do?"

The flickering of his eyes intensified, a silent acknowledgment of the internal chaos. He struggled to find words, so Joshua took charge, seizing your hands and pinning them above your head, making your tits bounce. The sudden shift in dominance sent a jolt of electricity through your core.

He groaned between his teeth, a low, guttural sound that betrayed the depth of his internal struggle, his head lowers a bit, taking a mouthful part of your tit, his tongue playing with your nipple, taking the lil' but between his teeth, making you throw your head back.

Heaven and Hell collided when Joshua pushed his dick slowly inside of your wet pussy, was electrifying, stretching you out in a way that left you breathless. Joshua, meeting your gaze, moaned deliciously at the new and overwhelming feelings.

Your wet walls hug his dick, and his body trembles when his pelvis hits yours, signaling that his dick is already all inside of you. Joshua's hips moved in a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through your body. His toned form towered over you, encouraging him to continue, your own body responded with a delicious rigidity to every stroke.

Joshua hides his face in the crook of your neck when you start to clench and unclench around his dick, his size making your pussy soak him.

As Joshua released your hands, you wasted no time in wrapping them around his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, and he moaned in response to the added sensation.

You squeak when Joshua takes his length off, then slams hard inside, making you pathetically spasm, his name leaves your mouth in a scream.

"Oh?" His eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction.

In the midst of your arching body and the heightened pleasure, he asked, "What is that?"

Joshua, after the surprising discovery, withdrew and then sheathed himself inside you again. The slow, deliberate movements created a rhythm that built steadily, each penetration sending waves of pleasure through your body as your abused g'spot it's hit every thrust.

He fucks your brains out with that angelical, innocent stupid face, while his big cock enters your gushing pussy so hard.

You cunt traps him so tight that his hips stutter, he moans suffered in your ear, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull while you shamelessly cry, your vision turns blank, and your body tenses so hard that you're afraid to break a bone.

Your pussy gushes cum like a waterfall. And Joshua continued to fuck you through your orgasm. In a final, primal act, Joshua growled, his hips slamming with unrelenting force until he reached the peak of his own ecstasy.

As he filled you up with his cum, his pearly white wings unfolded, embracing both of you in an ethereal warmth amidst the winds of the enchanted forest, hugging tightly and creating a shield that seemed to protect your entwined bodies.

His panting breaths whispered in your ear, and his arms, placed on each side of your head with his elbows anchored on the ground, provided a protective cradle.

As your vision gradually returned, the world around you took shape in the moonlit clearing. However, the celestial and earthly union had left its mark. When you looked up, expecting to see the pearly white wings of Joshua, you were met with a startling transformation.

The once pearly white wings of Joshua, symbols of celestial purity, had transformed into black and dark ones. The ethereal feathers now matched the shadows that draped his being, a visual manifestation of the departure from the celestial realm.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you placed a hand on Joshua's neck, attempting to gently coax his face from the crook of your neck. When he opened his eyes, the once bright orbs were now dark, devouring you with a gaze that held a different energy. As you looked at him in shock, a realization dawned upon you — he was now just like you.

As Joshua noticed the intensity of your gaze, he asked, "What's wrong?" The concern in his voice was genuine, his darkened eyes reflecting a new awareness of the change that had occurred. In response to his question, he took a moment to glance at himself, as if seeing the transformation for the first time.

The realization seemed to wash over him, and his features shifted in a subtle acknowledgment of the altered reality. Joshua, with a newfound dark aura, looked at you with a mischievous, shit-eating grin.

Joshua was now a fallen angel.

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missglaskin · 2 years

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Perv!Aemond, Perv!Aegon, Perv!Jacaerys headcanons (separate)

This was for a friend who gave me the idea also it’s their birthday so

Men were not to be trusted, but certainly not the one you spent most of your life with.

Tags: Explicit, Non-con, dark & toxic behavior, innocent/naive!reader, coercion, manipulativeness, gaslighting, corruption kink, painful first time, childhood friend!reader

Aemond

As an outsider, it made sense for you to befriend Aemond, who felt the same way, but since claiming Vhagar and losing his eye; Aemond has changed. Still, he treated you with a sort of gentleness and consideration. Though you've not been made aware of the one-eyed prince's desire for you.

He doesn’t feel any guilt over his perverted thoughts. And while he didn’t express those feelings openly, he wasn’t doing much to hide them, either. Your naivety was quite amusing and the times he contemplated corrupting your innocence or indulging in it.

It almost turns into a game for Aemond to see how much he can get away with. Pretending to reach for your necklace, yet his fingers accidentally happen to brush against your chest. Or perhaps placing his hand on your thigh whenever you’re seated together.

But you never seem to suspect him. Instead, you act as though you have complete trust in him, lifting your dress to reveal your bare thighs to the prince as you leap over a branch or open the door wearing a nightgown that leaves little to the imagination.

Occasionally, Aemond takes you flying with him on Vhagar. Too focused on watching the ground beneath you and feeling the wind on your face, you don’t notice how Aemond has pressed himself so firmly behind you. Then again, you are no dragonrider, so perhaps that is how it is.

Over the years, you’ve gotten used to Aemond’s fingers caressing your face, often wiping your tears away. But since the day Aemond turned into a man; there hasn’t been an innocent touch. As now, you can feel his fingers lightly brushing against your mouth with his thumb skimming the base of your lip.

Has you seated on his lap, you trust him don’t you? Besides, it’s not like you can exactly deny him, either. Though you’re confused when he makes you straddle one of his thighs instead as he engages in a ‘conversation’ with you. To which he accidentally raises his thigh, brushing up against your cunt; chuckling when he hears you gasp.

Even before the night, he had taken your maidenhood. Aemond has already seen your naked body more times than he can count. Intruding in your chambers without knocking and remaining in the room when it’s time for you to undress. Aemond is aware of the power he holds over you and that you'll not resist him. What a delicate, innocent flower that ended up in a dragon's jaws.

Aegon

Even someone as gullible as you were aware of Aegon's perversions, but because you were his close friend, you assumed you were immune to his vices. In reality, it’s far from it. Regarding his depraved thoughts about you, Aegon has no sense of guilt or shame.

Has masturbated to the thought of you more times than he can count. Many of your attires have been stolen by Aegon, who has them spread out on his bed as he masturbates while holding it close, imagining you beneath him. He preferred to steal your nightgowns, wrapping them around his pillows.

He enjoys sneaking glances at your chest and isn't very good at concealing his gaze. Your nipples must be perky, and Aegon can only imagine how good they'll feel in his mouth. Intentionally, he advises you to wear gowns that’ll reveal more of your chest and curves.

Among the numerous servants and whores he indulges in; he constantly tries to find one who most closely resembles you. Yet something is always off; perhaps they lack the scar or beauty mark you have. More than often, they sound nothing like you and he often demands them to be quiet so he can try to indulge in the fantasy.

As creepy as it sounds, he likes to watch you eat. Watching you consume creamy desserts causes his thoughts to wander. And would give you fruits like strawberries that would squirt juice when you bit into them. Upon seeing the juice drip from your mouth, he moves quickly to wipe it away with his finger before placing it back in his mouth and asserting that it indeed tastes sweet.

Your first kiss was with Aegon. The two of you have crossed so many boundaries that you are unaware that what you are doing is not typical of friends. Aegon assures you it is and claims your kisses bring him luck. And eventually, little pecks developed into make-out sessions.

Aegon has soon begun touching you inappropriately, just like he did with all those servants. He tried persuading you that all he was doing was making sure your body was healthy and functioning properly. And when you tried to object, Aegon insisted you should trust him as he’s your friend. And soon he would take you for a "check-up" every other day. With his hands between your legs and his mouth on your nipples.

Eventually, those 'check-ups' become something more when Aegon lays you on his bed, promising he’ll make a woman out of you. When he takes your maidenhood, you break down in tears and say it hurts. He just hushes you; assuring you it’ll all be over and it’ll start feeling good. He has ruined you. Now no one else will have you.

Jacaerys

Jace feels horrible thinking such thoughts. He knows they are wrong and wonders what kind of friend he is to consider such things. Jace even attempted to avoid you in an effort to lessen his guilt, but to no avail.

Jace has been known for his protectiveness. Most of the altercations he got in trouble with involved you, going against potential suitors or anyone who says the slightest remark. Jace prohibited you from having any male friends saying they'll take advantage of you ironic.

As he embraces you, he’s unable to resist the urge to inhale your scent. Any fragrance you use will swiftly be taken by Jace, who sprays it all over his room, particularly on his pillows. Sometimes he buries his face into the pillows while jerking off.

When you were sleeping close to his company, you sensed the presence of another leaning in for a quick kiss. It’s Jace who has long wondered what it will be like for your soft lips to touch his. It’s not the first time you have caught him in the act, and certainly not the last.

As children, you and Jace often slept in the same bed. His mother said nothing, as the two of you were children. Yet, you still woke Jace in the middle of the night, asking to sleep with him as you had a nightmare. Jace wants to say no, not trusting himself in these circumstances. But seeing your tears and how shaken you’re, he gives in.

The whole night Jace couldn’t sleep, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. That night, he didn't touch you at all—at least not your body. It took all his willpower not to. As his hand reaches for your attire and lifts it up, revealing your body to him, he realizes that although he has always battled his demons, this time they have prevailed.

That night made something inside of Jace snap. No matter how many defenses or explanations he can muster, he is a terrible person, and there is nothing he can do to change that. He has in become bolder the days after that. Hesitantly placing a hand on your thighs or pressing his face into your neck.

You’re baffled when Jace one day approaches your chamber without warning and seizes your lip in a desperate kiss. For there he confesses his desires and lust, pleading with you to end his suffering. He finally smiles when you allow him to take off your clothes and lay you down on the bed. It was just the two of you for that brief instant.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #x reader #reader insert #headcanons #smut #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut

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sonamytrash · 24 days

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Temptress

An: As usual, I don't have anything to say for myself. I started this off quite enchanted and romantic, and it turned to filth pretty quickly.

Warnings: Pure smutty filth, public sex, outdoor sex, poor tree, fingering, dirty talk, multiple orgasm, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, name calling, dom Levi, daddy is used, female anatomy described, porn with plot, but mostly porn. MDNI.

The air was thick with the musky scent of damp earth and the crisp tang of pine needles as Levi made his way through the dense woodland, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above, casting long, dappled shadows over the forest floor.

A light breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the sweet scent of newly bloomed flowers. In the distance, the gentle murmur of a nearby stream provided a soothing background score to this picturesque scene. It was in this serene setting that Levi Ackerman found himself, taking a shortcut through the woods as he made his way back from a nearby town where he'd been to buy tea. Suddenly, he heard a rustling in the bushes nearby. Curious, he carefully crept closer, peering through the foliage. There, hidden among the undergrowth, he spotted you, one of the scouts' medics. You were clad in a blush pink dress, your hair loose and flowing down your back, catching the golden rays of the sun. You seemed to be engrossed in your task, humming softly to yourself crouched down, carefully plucking plants from the ground.

You smiled to yourself, your hands expertly weaving through the dense undergrowth. The woods were your sanctuary. You knew every nook and cranny, every hidden path and secret grove. It was here that you found solace from the chaos of the world beyond the trees.

Having studied medicinal plants since you were young, and now, as a member of the scouts medical team, you were able to put your knowledge to good use.

The fabric of your dress was cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the muggy air. You bent down to pluck a particularly plump-looking leaf, your movements graceful and fluid.

You paused for a moment, listening intently to the sounds of the forest. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the gentle sigh of the breeze. It was a symphony that only nature could compose, and you found yourself lost in its beauty.

Levi cleared his throat, making his presence known. Startled, you looked up at him with wide, expressive eyes. "Ah, Levi," you said, her cheeks flushing slightly, "I didn't hear you." You glanced back at your collection, clearly torn between finishing what you were doing and attending to the stoic, dark-haired figure standing before you.

"What are you doing out here?" Levi asked, his voice low and curious. He leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms over his chest. You stood up, brushing the dirt from your knees, straightening out your dress as you smiled sheepishly. "Just collecting some medicinal plants," you replied, gesturing to your collection.

Levi arched an eyebrow, amused by your reaction. "I couldn't help but wonder what kind of strange animal might be lurking around in the bushes." he teased, stepping closer. A smirk crept across your lips. "Oh, you know, just the type of weird animal that spends their day's off in the dirt."

There was an awkward silence as you both took in each other's presence. You felt your cheeks flush again, remembering the flirtatious banter that you often shared. Always tethering on the edge of something more. But never had you been alone like this before, away from the eyes and ears of the scouting headquarters.

Levi, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight danced across your shoulders, and your breasts filled the dress you had chosen to wear highlighting the soft curves of your body, a welcome change from the usual scouts uniform. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, did you find everything you needed?"

You nod, your eyes not leaving his. "Yes, I think so. Thanks for asking." You shifted your weight from one foot to the other as you tried to climb back up the rockery, not entirely sure how you managed to get down there in the first place. "You're not out here just to chat. Are you, Levi?" You gave him a playful smile, trying to break the tension.

Amused, Levi didn’t return your smile, but his expression softened. "No, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, in case there were any other weird animals around." He teases, reaching his hand out to you for assistance.

You felt a thrill run through you at his touch as he effortlessly pulled you up. "Nope, just me," you teased, your voice a little breathless. Your final step closed the small distance between the two of you, as you laid a hand on his chest for support. The contact sent a wave of heat through your body, and you could feel the strong muscles and steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, "And I'm fine." You assured him.

Levi looked down at your hand on his chest, his own hand curling gently around your waist to support you. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You raise your eyes to meet his, your gazes locked, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between them seemed to crackle with an almost palpable energy, and time seemed to stand still.

No, you were not okay. You were never okay around this man.

Levi's grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, drawing you closer still. Your heart racing. You could feel the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms, and it made you want to be even closer.

"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. You could see the desire flickering in Levi's eyes. It was a look you had seen many times before, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what was coming, and you wanted it. You wanted him.

He took note of your features. Delicate and beautiful, but there was something wild about you, too. Something untamed. You seemed to be waiting for him, and he could feel his heart racing with anticipation.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he asked, his voice low and steady despite the pounding of his heart.

You smiled at him. The expression on your face was both mischievous and enchanting. "Maybe I have, haven't you too?" you replied, tilting your head to the side. His hand reached out, gently brushing against your cheek, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. "Tch, don't get cocky, brat." his fingers further ghost along the side of your face as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I may be a man, but I still have control over my urges." his gaze smoulders with a hint of barely restrained desire. "Though I admit. You make it damn difficult sometimes."

With a gentle nudge, he guided you backwards until your back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree.

He leans in, your breaths mingling as his lips brush against your own.

You gasp, your hands finding their way to his shoulders. Your lips were soft and yielding beneath his, and he could feel you respond to his touch, your body moving in time with his. He deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to explore the sweetness of your mouth, and you moaned in response, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He reached around, his hand finding the softness of your backside, and he squeezed, pulling you closer still. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, your hips grinding together desperately.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, and looked up at him with eyes that were now dark with need. Your hands moved over his chest, his shoulders tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the tautness of his skin. "I want you," Levi rasps, his voice thick with desire. His hooded eyes roam hungrily over your form. "Right here, right now." His calloused hands slide down to caress your curves, igniting sparks of pleasure. "I can't wait any longer." He kisses your neck and nips his way lower until he reaches the valley between your breasts. With a growl, he pulls the fabric loose, freeing your flesh from the confines of your dress. He cups your breasts in his hands, feeling the weight of them, the warmth that emanated from your skin. He takes one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, teasing it with his tongue while rolling the other one between his fingers. You arch your back, hips grinding against him, your fingers tangled in his hair. "Levi," you moaned, your voice dripping with desire.

He watched as you lowered your eyes, taking in the hardness of him through his pants before meeting his gaze again. "Then take me, Captain." You reply, and with a slow, deliberate motion, reaching down to free him from his trousers. You let out a moan at the sight of him, his gorgeous cock, hot and twitching in your hand.

Levi's breath hitches as you free his throbbing erection as his grip on your waist tightens. "You're a fucking temptress, you know that?." he growls, pressing you harder against the tree. He reluctantly leaves your nipple and captures your lips in another hungry kiss, his hips instinctively bucking into your touch. One hand continues to caress your plump breast while the other slides beneath your dress, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Pulling away briefly, he murmurs against your lips, "You're going to be the death of me," His voice is thick with want. "Humanities strongest soldier, reduced to this by a fucking siren. Tsk." With that, he spins you around, pinning you firmly against the tree, hiking up the skirt of your dress, his hard length presses insistently against your backside as his nimble fingers work to divest you of your undergarments, a satisfied smirk painted accross your lips the entire time. "But what a way to go." He relishes the feeling of the heat of your skin and the dampness between your legs. You gasped, your hips moving restlessly against his hand.

He bunches your dress up around your waist, revealing the curve of your rear. "And what a tempting sight," he murmurs, his hands caressing your supple flesh, parting your folds with his fingers, teasing you and circling your sensitive bud. You cry out, hips bucking against his hand. He presses one and then two fingers inside you, feeling your tight, wet cunt. You were so ready for him, so desperate for release. He slides his fingers in and out of you, in time with his thumb, circling your clit, as you moaned and writhed beneath him, your hands gripping the bark of the tree. Levi's fingers curl inside you, stroking all of the right spots. A guttural groan escapes his lips as he feels your silken walls clenching around his digits.

Your body arched, your back bowed as his name spilt from your mouth, and then you came, your voice shattering the tranquillity of the woods. Your muscles spasmed around his fingers, and your breath came in ragged gasps as the pleasure coursed through you. Levi's eyes flash with wicked delight at your wanton display.

"You have no idea what you're in for, pet." He growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as you catch your breath. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, he sinks his cock into your slick heat, stretching and filling you deliciously. Your body still sensitive from your first orgasm. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he hilts himself fully. "Levi!" You cry throwing your head back.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, pausing momentarily to allow you to adjust to his impressive girth. Then, with a sharp snap of his hips, he begins to pound into you relentlessly, "That's it, let me hear those delicious sounds."

A guttural moan escapes his lips at the sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him. He fills you completely, stretching and satisfying your aching need as you moan loudly for him.

Bracing his hands firmly around your hips, he begins to thrust into you with deep, powerful strokes, his hips snapping forward with a primal urgency. "You feel so fucking good," he growls through ragged breaths mingle with your desperate moans, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the air around you. "So hot and tight around my cock."

He sets a hard, relentless pace, pounding into you against the tree. His mouth latches onto the delicate skin of your shoulder, sucking and nipping, determined to mark you as his. One hand snakes up to knead your heavy breast as they bounce and slap one another from his assault. His other hand clutches your backside, pulling you flush against him with every powerful thrust.

"Levi...it feels so good," you mewl, He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he grunts with each powerful thrust. "That's right, keep saying my name with that pretty little mouth." he commands, his voice rough with lust.

His hand snakes from your breast to your clit, stroking it in time with his ruthless thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, taking my cock like this," his breath hot against the back of your neck. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there, no doubt leaving his mark. Levi's pace becomes increasingly frantic as he drives into you, his hips snapping sharply. Each powerful thrust elicits a wanton moan from your lips, driving his lust even higher.

He slams into you with bruising force, his hips snapping against your rear with each powerful thrust. The pressure and friction is delicious, and he can feel your walls fluttering around his throbbing shaft.

You arched your back, crying out his name as you came, your body shuddering with release. He continues to thrust into you relentlessly, feeling your body relax and then tense again with each thrust, your wet heat enveloping him as he continues to apply pressure to your clit expertly allowing you to ride out your orgasm. And then, just as you thought it couldn't possibly get any better, you felt it building again as you allowed the overstimulation to consume you, a second wave, and with it, the rush of hot liquid that trickled down your legs leaving you breathless and astonished as you moaned breathlessly beneath him, you inner walls desperate to milk his cock. Levi felt the fluid spill over his hand and smirked, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste your essence, "Dirty fucking girl," he says with a groan of pleasure, "I don't think you even knew you could do that." He comments seductively as he his thrusts grew more frenzied, his hips slapping against your ass with an urgency that left you both gasping for breath. "Give daddy one more." As he reaches down to rub your clit again, you mewl at the contact of his wet, slippery fingers returning to circle the already sensitive nub. He feels your body quickly contract around him, your muscles gripping him in a vice-like hold again. You felt yourself losing control, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks, "Don't stop, daddy please" you mewled, the words effortlessly rolling from your lips. With a loud cry, your body convulsed, your muscles tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Fuck, that's it. Milk my cock dry." His thumb circles your swollen clit as he chases his own release. Consumed with feral satisfaction at the sight of your debauched state. "You're such a good slut for daddy." With a final few deep thrusts, Levi buries himself to the hilt, spilling his seed deep inside, moaning your name as empties himself into you.He holds you flush against him, painting your walls with his hot, thick cum.

Levi's chest heaves as he catches his breath, his grip on your hips unwavering. "Tch, look at the mess we've made," He gazes down at you with a glint in his eyes. "But I have to admit, it's a sight I quite enjoy."

You blush furiously at the events that have just unfolded. Your sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, hearts racing, and your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your grip on the tree had turned your knuckles white as you turned to meet his gaze. "Guess I'm not the only animal around here."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader #aot smut #fanfiction smut

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chucapybara · 2 days

Text

—monsters.

a short arlecchino x harbinger fem!reader drabble.

notes: "innamorati" is one of the cast in the commedia dell'arte, with the theme of the lovers, if i remember correctly. they are usually a pair, as well. wrote this a few days ago; this came to me with my own version of a harbinger!oc in mind (hence it may come off as self-shippy), but i think it's vague enough to substitute a reader as innamorati. :3c inna also has cryo-inclined abilities (hence titled "Permafrost") and covers themselves in armour!

"You still bleed like a man does."

"And how does... ngfh... a man bleed?"

"Red."

Were it not for the slickened crimson coating her cursed palms, Arlecchino may as well have thought that the Innamorati was no more than an inanimate suit of obsidian. Innamorati's breaths come heavy, misting like frost at the base of her visor.

There is a kinship, in the blood and in the ghastly taint that sours them both. Like beckons like, as the familiar recognises the familiar from a sea of crowds.

For a moment, Arlecchino's dead-eyed gaze flickers over the shadows in Innamorati's helmet, as if searching for a glimpse of the soul that stares beneath. She almost catches the abyssal-flecked hazel, the dredges of human, or what once was human.

"Innamorati."

"Mmh."

"The children will mourn your passing," the Fourth mutters. It's difficult to dress the wound of an acquaintance who refuses to shed their armour, but she improvises. The bleeding must stop eventually.

"Will they, now?"

Arlecchino bows her head, the slightest nudge of a nod. It was not often that Innamorati passed by the House, but every instance always brought with it the intrigue from the children, and the rumour of the risen "abyssal knight". For all the Lovers' aloof frigidity, a wonder it had become when said abyssal knight would bring souvenirs and trinkets for the children of the Hearth after and between deployments, when said abyssal knight would converse with the fosters in a voice soft as snow, gentle as a whisper upon a dandelion breeze.

Quickly, Innamorati had unknowingly earned a place for herself among the denizens of that organisation, and had come under the scrutiny of its unfeeling Father. Hence had Arlecchino found a wounded Innamorati, returned from a mission, stalking past whilst nursing an injury; hence had Arlecchino beckoned her fellow Harbinger into her office, where a box of medical supplies sits in her cabinet for unforeseen events much like this.

"And of you?" The words come slow from 'neath Inna's helm, a gravelled drag to them, strained. "Will you mourn my passing, Knave?"

There is a long silence. With calculating coldness, the baleful moon falls quiet, perhaps contemplative, perhaps resentful of the question.

How many has she reaped? How many throats slashed, heads ground into a marrowy pulp? And of the many, of what number were those she had no strength to aid, left to keep the reminder of their lives in their final breaths?

Even now, from the depths of that icy past blazed upon a crimson pyre, Innamorati ferried recollections that the Knave had not pondered in a long time: her first blood, on that fated arena, within the cage of a woman madder than she—the blood of a fallen dreamer, an heir to tragedy.

When Arlecchino does not answer, Innamorati answers for her.

"Well," the Permafrost mutters in a rasp, "I have yet to forfeit my life, stubborn as I am. You do not grieve for the living."

"And yet we grieve, still, for what eludes us in the present."

Their gazes meet—or Arlecchino thinks they do. She feels a knowing shiver at the tilt of Innamorati's head, in her direction, where the fiery moon meets a frigid sun.

We grieve for what we have lost.

And if naught else, yours is the grave whose flowers I shall never allow to wilt.

#🌙 chuca drabbles #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #hmmmmmm #ah yes to mourn for your lost humanity #to mourn the blood on your hands that were never your own...#there's a lot of brainworms in my head about arlecchino and innamorati rn #i should be working on my finals AHAHSNDLKA

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audreyscribes · 3 months

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🌾 DEMETER: Goddess of Agriculture and Fertility, of the Harvest & Sacred Law, of the Earth, of the Seasons, Nourishment & Bread 🌽

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

When you get claimed, the ground beneath you bursts with vegetation. You look around you and notice that among the vegetation, it’s your favourites. Your favourite flowers, fruit, vegetable, and plants. It’s almost like Demeter had been keeping an eye on you this entire time and this was her bouquet for you. A wreath of corn and plants sit upon your crown.

Your siblings cheer and help you take the bouquet of vegetation, taking the roots of each plant to be planted later on, and the rest is gathered. You’re introduced to your cabin and siblings with a small impromptu picnic of said-bouquet as you all break bread together. As you sink your teeth into the nearest food, it fills you with energy you’re not sure how to place other than it’s good.

There are plants everywhere in your cabin and the inside of the cabin is almost like a botanical garden that is also never uncomfortable to sleep in. You look around and you see plants hanging from above and/or rising above. Your bed smells like earth and flowers, and there are vines curling up around the frames. As soon you touch the bed, your bunk bed bursts into your favourite flowers and plants, providing you a little bit of comfort.

The wreath you were given hangs above your head and it remains fresh. It’s like a soft reminder of Demeter’s presence.

You help with the camp’s business of growing and maintaining the strawberries they grow, and you find out you and your siblings all get a small portion of the profits. It’s almost like an allowance for doing your chores.

Being a child of Demeter, you get along with the children of Dionysus and Mr. D.

You also get along with the dryads at camp, being the child of Demeter. There’s a sense of love and respect directed towards you. If you don’t know, you’re later told by one of your siblings, the dryads, or Mr. D himself.

Let’s just say, Demeter is very, very terrifying and you know when they say to never mess with Mother Nature.

Do not mistaken for weakness and unimportance as a child of Demeter. Demeter herself is powerful, and hopefully no one earns her ire.

People might not find your particularly threatening, but know that when the time comes, your hand that has handled the tools that till the earth, is just as practiced as a sword.

Flower power to the max. You can sprout the plants beneath your feet, from the smallest of weeds that can tear apart stone through their cracks, to the network of tree roots beneath your feet that grow and grow. Fungi are also on the table and boy, there's no way more terrifying then razing down enemies with the power of fungi. You carry an assortment of seeds with you and let me tell you, a whip made out of Rose thorns go hard.

You looked at the miniature garden beneath your feet. You quickly take in the fact the plants around you are your favourites. Your favourite fruits, flowers, herbs, plants in general. You can’t tell if it is the pollen or dust, but you feel your eyes prickling at the fact that maybe, Demeter had been keeping an eye on you when her claim brought about your favourites.

You felt the wreath of corn grow on top of your head, the vines and leaves moving and parting your hair behind your ear. It is soft, gentle, and deliberate, almost like a mother’s touch.

You see a bunch of campers take out shovels, spades, and other gardening tools and begin working at your feet, gathering the plants. A girl steps forward and she had her hands on her hips, giving you a smile.

“Don’t worry about the plants. Each new child of Demeter’s claim is different and their plants are a representation of them, so we like to gather the plants to celebrate. My name is Katie Gardner, child of Demeter and cabin leader. Welcome!”

You introduced yourself before catching some of the children of Demeter talk excitedly about what to make with the produce they had gathered. “So what’s going on now?”

Katie gently guides you to the Demeter Cabin as she explains. “To welcome each new addition to our cabin, we also like to hold an impromptu picnic if its early or late enough before meal times, and we use the plants from their claim as the centrepiece. This also lets us get to know each other, a bit of an ice breaker if you get what I mean.”

“That’s actually pretty cool” you said as she led you to your bunk.

“It is, right? I know we may not seem as cool compared to the other gods, but trust me, being a child of Demeter is just as great as the others. We’re just…more down to earth.”

The reaction you gave to Katie as she let out a laugh. “Got you right there” she giggled. “Come on, there’s plenty to show you!”

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anisecandy · 2 months

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Page 16/38

Previous pages: 1-2, 3, 4-5, 6-7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13-14, 15

#web comics #webcomic #artists on tumblr #scifi #post apocalyptic #on gentle ground among flowers #my art #original comic #my comic

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x-uno · 7 months

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Brewing Blooms: Florist!Sanji x Barista!Reader

note : indecisive me couldn't decide on whether I should make Sanji a barista or a florist ;v; I STRUGGLED FOR THE WHOLE DAY but ultimately ended on him being a florist - :DDDD LIKE HEAR ME OUT IT'S LITERALLY PERFECT FOR HIM

| 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

THE FIRST RAYS OF DAWN'S GENTLE LIGHT pierced through the half-closed blinds, painting a soft, golden canvas across the snug interior of your coffee shop. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans intermingled with a hint of cinnamon, creating an aromatic symphony of warmth and comfort.

You, a dedicated barista and the proud owner of this intimate coffee sanctuary, were no stranger to the early hours. The soothing hum of espresso machines, the rich fragrance of freshly ground coffee, and the hushed conversations of your loyal patrons composed the daily chorus that cradled your mornings. Yet, on this particular day, the serenity of your routine was disrupted by an explosion of energy and excitement.

Amid the soft pre-dawn glow, Nami flung the coffee shop's door wide with an enthusiastic flourish, clutching a bouquet of fresh flowers in her hand. "Y/N! Flowers for you!" she cried out, her voice brimming with excitement. Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked, startled and confused.

Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise as you turned to face Nami, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Flowers? For me? Who on earth...?" Your mind raced, wondering who could possibly be sending you flowers. It had been a while since you'd been involved in any kind of romantic relationship. You didn't recall mentioning any recent love interests to Nami.

Nami's gaze danced with amusement, her lips curving mischievously. "You never told me you had a boyfriend!’"

You chuckled at the assumption. "Believe me, Nami, if I had a boyfriend, you'd be the first to know. This is quite a surprise, though." You carefully picked up the card attached to the bouquet, your fingers deftly sliding it out from among the blossoms.

Nami leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. "Well, what does it say?" With a puzzled expression, you read aloud, "For Petal Paradise?"

"Petal Paradise…Petal - OH!" Nami snapped her fingers in realization. "It’s the flower shop that just opened nearby."

You raised an eyebrow. "Petal Paradise, huh? They must have had a mix-up with the delivery. I should probably return these." You murmured, adjusting your hold on the bouquet. "Can you manage without me for a bit?’"

Nami waved her hand dismissively. "Of course, Don't worry about the café. Just go next door and play nice with the florist." She winked mischievously.

You chuckled at her playfulness and nodded. "Thanks, Nami. I'll be quick."

With that, you headed next door to Petal Paradise, your curiosity growing as you approached the charming flower shop. The little bell above the door tinkled softly as you entered, and the fragrant air of the flower shop enveloped you.

Sanji, the talented florist, was busy arranging a stunning bouquet, his nimble fingers carefully selecting each flower and placing it with precision.

You cleared your throat to get his attention. "Excuse me," you began, "I think there was a mix-up with a flower delivery. I received these at my café, but they seem to be intended for Petal Paradise." You held out the bouquet to him.

Sanji, with his hands still delicately arranging the blossoms, looked up with a warm smile. His eyes sparkled with appreciation as he examined the bouquet you held out.

"Ah, a mix-up, you say? Well, it's fortunate that you're the one who received them. After all, these flowers deserve to be in the presence of someone as radiant as you."

"Are all florists in this neighborhood so skilled in flattery?"

Sanji chuckled, his confidence unwavering. "Only the ones who recognize true beauty when they see it."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you retorted, "Flattery will get you everywhere, won't it?’’ Sanji flashed a grin and leaned in a bit closer, his eyes filled with playful mischief.

"Everywhere and anywhere, bubs. It's a florist's secret weapon, you know."

"Oookay, casanova," you said, shaking your head with a grin, "Are you taking the flowers or not?" You gestured to the bouquet in your already outstretched hand, bringing the conversation back to its original purpose.

Sanji's composure snapped back to the task at hand as he accepted the bouquet, his fingers gently brushing against yours. "Oh, right! Sorry!"

With the bouquet now in his care, Sanji straightened up and extended a hand toward you, a friendly smile gracing his features. "I should have started with a proper introduction. I'm Sanji."

You returned his smile, placing your hand in his. "Y/N. I own the coffee shop next door."

As you spoke, your gaze naturally drifted to the intricate tattoos adorning his arm, peeking out from beneath his rolled-up sleeves. The designs were an intriguing mixture of vibrant blooms and winding vines, a testament to his deep connection with the world of flowers. Your eyes followed the intricate details, captivated by the colors and the artistry behind them, unable to hide your curiosity. But just as quickly as your gaze lingered, you averted your eyes, not wanting to appear too intrusive.

"Neighbor!" He grinned widely. "Well, I guess it might be fate, madam!"

"Fate, huh?"

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but I'll be counting on you to visit me whenever the need arises." He handed you a card with a wink.

"The need to get flowers, you mean?"

"Well, of course! But also the need to get to know me better."

His cheeky response took you by surprise, and you found yourself laughing at his audacity.

"We'll see about that." you replied, the words were more of a playful challenge than anything else.

taglist: reply to be added !

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla #florist au #barista au #vinsmoke sanji #one piece

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nevertheless-moving · 1 year

Text

i like to think that whilst drunk the last night in Lake Town, Bilbo is asked to explain who he is (why is he here) and of course he can't say "Burglar" because he JUST talked up being a Distinguished Baggins and stuff vouching for thorins honor but also they kinda hate the rich in Laketown so he's like "hm? Oh I do a bit of gardening (very respectable), here and there you know...

And then he goes and fights a Dragon AND the Dwarves AND The ORCS (the story grows in telling) so Hobbit's get a hyperregional name for being unhinged baddasses, with 'gardening' being a euphemism, backed up by local exchange of stories with Erebor.

When Sam is like "I'm his gardener" explaining to Faramir why he's in the middle of a war zone with the Ringbearer, Faramir has not heard the Dale gardening slang.

But then Sam the Gardener goes on to defeat SHELOB the DEMON SPIDER of CIRITH UNGOL in SINGLE COMBAT!! (yes that story gets told, Noone has been able to use that pass in living memory, and it's honestly easier to talk about then the other shit they dealt with over there) also sam wise gamgee fought his way out of a whole squadron of GONDORIAN SOLDIERS and ALL THE ARMIES OF MORDOR (the story grows in the telling, though not that much really)

And so hobbits independently get a reputation among the men of Gondor and Rohan as kind and gentle little people, except for when they are full of rage and burn kingdoms to the ground, and especially watch out for the Gardener...

Eventually trade between the realms of men flourishes under King Elessar's rule and these stories meet in perfect complement, and hobbits earn a middle earth wide reputation among the mortal race as gentle folks, except the gardeners, gardening means something VERY different, terrifying warriors, the King himself bowed-

Which is ironic and tragic but really mostly very funny to the children and grandchildren of Tooks and Brandybucks and Gamgees who venture onto the great wide road in search of ents and elves but mostly seeds to trade because everyone knows that the most magnificent flowers and soil and even the Great Party Oak come from Outside the shire and they HAVE to win next year's gardening competition -

#the hobbit #LOTR #nevertheless meta #gardening

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aghostiewitdahoodie · 3 months

Text

⟣ Synopsis: A coming of age Simon Riley experiences what it is like to have feelings for someone.

⟣ Pairing: Pre-Military! Simon Riley x F! Reader

⟣ Warnings: None

⟣ This is my work, my writing. Do not steal or repost elsewhere.

Have you ever seen someone so graceful? You would wonder if you are gazing at an angel without her wings, ambling among us. Time would seem to slow down and everything…

Everything just becomes a blur.

You lose your senses and you cannot help but admire. Her doing the simplest things appear as an art so carefully crafted, leisurely thought of with love.

There I erected still at the pavement on a sunday morning. You would think the season is beautiful…

It is.

Yet incomparable to her.

No matter how sun kissed the trees are or the leaves gently descending in different hues, different routes…

Nothing could compare to the beauty of Y/N.

Y/N L/N.

Even her name is like a song, a melody and you just close your slits and dance and your heart…

Oh, your heart is fluttering with joy.

Though hearing her name makes me timid. Having her around makes me timid and I stutter on my words.

The things she makes me feel…

It feels wonderful and yet it scares me.

A fusion of red and blue she wears, a knee-length dress and a beret. That beret I saw yesterday as I passed by the high end street. A high end street where the best shops erect tall and proud.

Of course, she was the one to purchase it. Y/N deserves the best of all and the best of all appears plain when it comes with her.

Yet there I erected still, wearing the same clothes from yesterday. The clothes I wore the day before yesterday, covered in filth, covered in meaty bits, smeared with blood. I should have not worn the apron yet for she may consider me a sight to be disgusted at.

Yet there I erected still, admiring her. Not a care in the world, I could admire her for the rest of my days and not once get exhausted.

Platforms she wore and they rest flawlessly on the bicycle pedals as she travel in a usual speed yet time seems to slow down. The wind blowing her hair, everything just seems to be perfect with her.

I swear I could smell her scent when she passed me by. The aroma of hers is like a field where the prettiest flowers grow.

Does she even have a flaw?

Could someone as beautiful as her have a flaw?

Seriously. I have been wondering.

Yet there I erected still, my copper irises bore still.

How could my mind be tranquil?

How could I be civil?

When there she is, doing the simplest thing yet appear so beguiling.

Yet there I erected still until something collided with me. My vessel swiftly detected the pain and soon enough I tumble to the ground.

Despite the pain and the harm, what a sight to gaze at.

Above me is the angel I dream of.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern and the stunning orbs of hers never gazed at me this way, not once in my life and her nose scrunches every now and then… Her lips plumped and pink, appearing as kissable as ever.

Despite my hand trembling in anxiousness, I reached for her face and there I rested my palm on her cheek. “I am alright.” She aided me to sit up, her hands so soft and gentle.

Although her hair is messy…

Did…

Did she rush towards me?

And her breathing is swift and heavy…

Y/N rushed towards me.

She cares about me?

She notices me?

Questions overflowing my mind and I just stared at her as she sanitize the wound on my arm. Her mouth muttering words yet romantic songs are all I could hear.

Y/N L/N is so concentrated in bandaging me, caring for me and in that moment…

I…

I dreamt a life with her.

I fantasized about her in the same dress and the same beret. She greeted me with an embrace as I came home from work. I could smell the freshly baked pie and the tea she prepared just for me. The fireplace has been lit and the season… the season is the same as now.

Autumn.

Yet still incomparable to her.

Can she perceive?

Perceive how much I gaze at her, how much I adore her?

If only she knows.

If only I could tell.

I could however…

What for?

When there goes John doing the simplest thing yet her orbs follow as he walks by.

Why confess what I feel when her orbs confess what she feels for John?

Just as my orbs confess how I feel for her.

I could only get to this point…

The point where I admire Y/N in autumn.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost #ghost cod #call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod x reader

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admistedenslush · 4 months

Text

Desert Rose ~ Prologue

Aemond Targaryen / Fem!Reader

Synopsis:Aemond always held a special affection for his elder niece, Ser Criston Cole's kin.

Warnings: self-deprecating reader, abusive/foul language

════════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════════

DORNE, 130 AC

In a Dornish hamlet, ethereal silks draped gracefully upon your form, and the soft chiming of gold jewels accompanied every movement. As young maidens danced around you, a circle of elder women surrounded you.

“Beautiful hair, thick and resilient,” one whispered, her touch tenderly weaving through your locks.

The collective murmur of agreement resonated, and your grin mirrored the reciprocity of compliments that flowed like a gentle breeze among kindred spirits.

Kindred spirits abound — men, women, and children mirroring your essence.

Amidst this tranquil interlude, a familiar, jarring screech pierced the air, disrupting the serenity. A distant crimson blur materialized in the sky, unsettling you. As the serpent-necked dragon descended menacingly, the ominous certainty of impending peril seized your consciousness.

“Run along, dears. No harm will befall you. He's here for me,” you reassured them.

“A dragon rider for you? Who?” inquired the older woman.

“My father,” you responded, prompting a furrowed brow that deepened the wrinkles framing her discerning eyes.

With eyes tinged in suspicion and anxiety, they fled, children cradled in their arms.

You remained motionless, unafraid of Daemon Targaryen, yet as he touched down, a subtle unease settled in your stomach. At that moment, your life unfolded before your eyes: a tapestry woven with images of your mother, heir to the Iron Throne, your brothers, Laenor Velaryon. And there, amidst the memories, lingered the haunting visage of the boy with the scarred face—your uncle, last encountered in what felt like a lifetime ago.

❀

Seated beneath a prayer wheel, crafted by Queen Alicent, he awaited—a miracle the queen gave you leave to enter his chambers.

“Who enters?” croaked the young boy.

Closing the chamber door, you settled by his feet.

“Guess who,” you smiled down at him.

You weren't present during the horrific incident, much like Aegon. The younger children spared you the disturbance.

“Why did you come, b-bastard?” His puffy face sought direction, frizzy hair falling untamed.

Aemond's answer didn't faze you; a wounded child stood before you.

“I thought I was your friend, your flower.” You reached for him, but he swatted your hands away.

“A rose. A desert rose. Somehow, you flourish even in the wrong temperature,” he spat.

You came to console the blonde but left, the need for sympathies shifting to you. Grabbing your skirts, you shoved the door open, brushing by the guards into the echoes of the castle.

❀

A bellow of your name and titles snapped you back to reality. Descending from Meraxes, your stepfather's gaze held a mix of anger and disappointment—a familiar look you'd encountered countless times. Though the exact memory eluded you, you believed it originated from the time you first entered this realm, a crying babe with dark curls.

“This is where you've been,” he strode towards you.

“Dorne,” you answered, feigning ignorance.

His eyes darkened.

“Do you realize how sick with worry your mother is?”

Your demeanor shifted, your hand resting on your stomach, the concern for your mother overpowering any attempt to hold your ground.

“I'm—” you began.

“No, listen to me. You don't have the fucking right to fly off by yourself without telling anybody, especially at this time.”

“I'm sorry,” teary eyes blurred your vision.

“I expected to find you a mess, maimed, scratched, on the brink of death. A corpse I'd have to carry back to Dragonstone for your mother! Yet here you are in costume, covered in gold,” he continued in a fit.

The sound of your sob halted him. He sighed, enveloping you in his arms, soothing your babbling apologies. Cupping your face, his calloused fingers brushed away your tears, your quivering mouth unable to articulate.

“ Tala. You are the blood of the dragon. Don't ever think less of yourself.” He tightened his embrace, pressing your face against his chest.

His hand shrugged off the Dornish textile from your shoulders.

“You are a Targaryen, you are your mother's daughter,” he whispered.

════════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ════════

@valleyof-goldenlilies

#house of the dragon #aemond x fem!reader #hotd aemond #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd smut

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smolvenger · 4 months

Note

❤️Happy Birthday ❤️

🎉🎉🎉I hope you have a wonderful day 🎉🎉🎉

Please can I request a little blurb with Prince Hal and "touch her and you die" 😻😻😻

Thank you!

Why hello there! Thanks, I got a manicure and went to a bookshop and ate Italian food so it was great! And here is the blurb!

Rain Within Doors (Prince Hal x fem! Reader)

Summary: When the king falls ill, your betrothed, Prince Hal, returns.

Word Count: 1923

Warnings: some sexual harassment but the a-hole is saved in time, I try to keep it close to Shakespeare. Angst and fluff. I stole a line from Game of Thrones because it fit (the Shakespeare histories WERE kind of the Game of Thrones of their time minus the dragons and excessive exploitation of women)

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

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You waited anxiously and eagerly for your dear betrothed. He needed to hurry here. Things had all turned for the worse.

Poor King Henry the Fourth was one minute at a table with all of you The Lord of Westmoreland arrived delivering the news of success in battle against Hotspur’s followers attempting to usurp the king. Everyone gasped. The lords who allied with Henry the Fourth were there- the Lord of Harcourt, Sir John Blunt, and others, all drooped their shoulders in relief. You, the younger two princes Thomas and Humphrey, The Lord of Warwick, and the King all smiled. The king shakily rose to praise Westmoreland

…then suddenly he began wheezing and fainted.

Everyone gasped. Humphrey and Warwick met them on the grounds to give aid to the old king. Little Thomas cried for his father and you put him, your soon-to-be brother-in-law, in a hug, rubbing his back.

“It’s all right, you know these fits happen often,” Warwick assumed, ever the voice of peace.

As the king came to, he was supported up. You were among the party to help settle him into bed. He asked the crown be placed on the pillow next to him with a raspy voice. And for musicians to play in the next room. Everyone complied.

You knew your betrothed had business in London. Even if it was in a bad place, he assured you it was nothing involving anything criminal (or whores) and that he would be back. The second eldest, Thomas, was dealing with the rebels with forces of his own and was on his way back.

“My lord, let me sit with you, so you need not be alone,” you offered, gathering a chair.

You had been sent here to marry the notorious Prince of Wales. Though you were nervous in this new castle, King Henry the Fourth was gentle with you. He welcomed you with a smile and open arms. The man who already considered you a daughter-in-law in his heart and the other princes saw you as a sister. He would let you dine with him and even play a little dice game with the family, smiling at you. Warmth on the face of the aged Bolingbroke- the lord who, long ago, won the favor of the people so much it broke him out of exile and then thrust him into the role of king unexpectedly. Once Henry Bolingbroke, christened Henry the Fourth, wore shining golden armor as he rode on a horse. Paraded through the city as people threw flower petals at him.

Now how…weak he was! A shell of himself! Hardly the proud golden king anymore!

He reached out for your hand and you accepted it.

“Why-dear lady, I thank you. To think a pearl may be thrown to swine… to think my Harry should of all men be your husband…” he wheezed.

“My lord, you must know- your eldest son has not….treated me poorly.”

You didn’t know him well- the beautiful, fiery, mischievous, wild prince Henry- or Harry as called by his friends or family. Or Hal as those thieves and whores so affectionately called him.

This was to be a marriage for alliance and station, not of affection. When you arrived, you expected a frivolous, drinking, philandering Baccus. But Hal…. he was kind to you. He always smiled at you and called you sweet names. He was rumored to spend time studying in libraries more than drinking. One time, he found a romantic poem, copied it on paper, and gave it to you as a lover’s token. It touched you- who knew how he would fare as king but you felt he would make at least a decent husband!

“Just rest my lord, please,” you asked. The king indeed settled.

You walked out to the hallway to face the others. They peeked in and soon saw his eyes were closed, but he was breathing. The musicians in the next room played such calm, nearly dreamlike melodies compared to the anxiety storming inside of your being.

Soon enough, the king settled into a deep sleep. You smiled a little- poor Henry the Fourth was a notorious insomniac, wandering the castle in the late hours from his racing worries. That should give him some relief and help with his sickness.

But to think…here you were about to watch that old man die. Die before you could officially call him family.

A couple of tears fell, and you walked out to the hallway staring out. It was a cold, bitter day. The winter chill stinging the glass window when you touched it.

But there was a sound- hooves.

When you leaned closer to the window, you let out a gasp.

Hal was here in a long, beautiful black and red cape on a beautiful black horse as if he were about to rescue a damsel. And behind him a couple of others. You covered your mouth but felt a smile on your lips.

Picking up your skirts, you hurried down to the others in the outer hall. Warwick was hushing the two boys from talking too loud, to watch over the king in his sleep.

“Humphrey! Thomas! He’s back!” you whispered.

“Who?” replied Thomas.

They turned and then heard Hal’s voice asking for him. You and the others hurried there.

In the torch-lit hallway, your eyes feasted on Hal. The most beautiful man you had ever seen with the most deliciously fitted black velvet doublet, swooping off his cape with a gallantry that made your insides tingle.

He turned and went to you first.

“How now, My most fair lady?”

“Oh, much worried but cheered by your return, my lord,” you replied.

Hal’s eyes softened at you, then he looked at his crying brothers- Humphrey and Thomas.

“What- all of this rain in of door when it should be out of doors? How is the king?” Hal asked.

“ Exceeding ill” explained Humphrey sadly.

“Please be quiet, His grace is asleep,” warned the Lord of Warwick.

Hal requested to see his father, and the lord of Warwick led him to the bed.

Everyone hushed and walked out to the other room, keeping quiet to give the king as much rest as he needed. Everyone worried. It was all so much- you needed some space.

With your heart calming, you went to one hallway, hugging yourself to look at how the moon shone over the winter evening through the windows.

The Lord Harcourt went up to you. An older man with sharp cheekbones and a sharp chin, a pale face, and dark eyes. You only knew him as an ally and advisor to the king. As you stood alone, staring out the window.

“Good evening, Lady Y/N.” he greeted.

“Good evening, my lord,” you replied.

“You do look rather lovely tonight in the moonlight,” he complimented.

Already you felt uneasy. Alone with him, when all the others were fretting over the king. You began to take a step to return.

“You…you flatter me, my lord, thank you.”

Right as you turned, the lord reached an arm from his rich, velvet clothes and grabbed you.

“It seems a shame for such a fine lady to be wasted upon riotous Harry. I should have had you for my wife instead.”

“My lord, then wait until the king awakens and discuss it with him and announce you will-will-will court me openly like a gentleman,” you blubbered out, though you were starting to get scared.

He tried to sweetly, seductively brush your cheek but you had enough and swatted it away.

“Oh! The lady is a bit too cold, methinks.”

“And a lady is treated with respect, sir! My lord, please let me go. I must attend on his majesty.”

“Your drunken oaf of an intended is waiting on him, who is going to stop!”

“But you are a fool! Please, let me leave!”

He backed you up until you were in a corner. Your heart pounded hard.

“Please- my lord, I swear, do not do anything that might insult my honor! I don’t want to-Please!” you cried.

“Then be not so fair and tempt a man to sin! And you have tempted me long enough. The one crown Prince Hal is deserving of is the Cuckhold’s horns.”

“Please, my lord- let me go!” you begged.

To your horror, you felt a thin, clawlike hand reach for your leg under your skirt, then up, trying to lower your bodice to show your breasts. You squirmed, but one arm held you back.

“No, my lady. I want a see what I could be enjoying on our wedding night.”

He placed a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream. Tears welled up in you.

With a free hand, though it shook, you slapped him hard.

His hand dropped. He was shocked you were going to fight back. You tried to flee when he grabbed you back, ready to drag you off and force you to strip or do more when-

“Release yourself from the Princess of Wales right now!” threatened your intended.

Hal hurried in and grabbed the lord. He then took out his dagger, pointing it to your attacker’s chest. You jumped off and went behind Hal.

“What- my lord!” the lord was shocked that dishonorable, silly Prince Hal was capable of this. Then he scoffed.

“She is not yet your wife-” he argued.

“She is your princess and soon- your queen!” Hal reminded him.

The Lord of Harcourt pointed to where you stood and backed away behind Hal.

“She’s-she was trying to seduce me! The Lady is nothing but a common strumpet”

Hal punched him in the face. You let out a gasp. The Lord nursed his cheek. But Hal kept his dagger up at him. You heard footsteps and murmurs as the others went into the room. The younger Lancaster brothers staying by you loyally. The lords turned pale and slack-jawed.

“You are not welcome in this court until after our marriage. And then you will have to beg to be let in. And If you ever lay a hand on that sweet lady again, it will be the last time you have hands!” Hal barked at him.

The Lord of Harcourt shook and then relented, bowing his head.

“Now, flee. Before I decide to persuade my father to behead you when he awakes.”

The lord fled into the shadows, a few attendants seeing him out. The others asked after you, but it was Hal who boldly embraced you. It was quite intimate for court protocol, but when had Hal ever done what everyone expected?

“He-He frightened me.” you choked out.

“You need not be frightened, my lady, you’ll be safe. Did he hurt you? Do anything?” Hal questioned.

“He groped my leg, and tried to take my dress off, but no more. You caught him before more could be done. I-I -I promise you, Hal, I never intended to seduce him in any way! Do you believe me?”

Hal clasped your hands in his.

“Why would I not believe my dearest lady?” Hal replied.

Full of emotion, you leaned down and kissed them. Hal’s mouth opened a little and he smiled at you. He cupped your cheek sweetly.

The party returned to wait on the king. You saw Hal was pale, but you kept your hand clasped in his as you walked back.

For as uncertain as this time was, no matter what the next day or hour could bring, you had each other and could endure it side by side.

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