#she was just inexperienced and naïve | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

murdockussy · 2 years ago

Note

Could you do an enemies to lovers one shot where obi has been in love with the reader for a while but she doesn’t know it?

And I wouldn’t mind some spice please hehe

AHHHH this request is perfect!! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write this one up, but I hope you enjoy reading it!!

(I am open to taking any requests, head to my masterlist to read more about it :))

Room 24

Angsty, smutty lil Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader enemies to lovers one shot where he fell for the reader first!

Warnings: a little arguing here and there, but we love a jealous Kenobi moment

Words: 8,900ish

If you could gather every emotion you felt towards Obi Wan Kenobi, you were almost certain you’d be left with a burning heap of seething hot hatred – almost.

Ever since your first interaction all those years ago, you - young and naïve, heart hammering in your chest as were introduced to your peers inside the Jedi Temple for the first time, and him – a lean short haired boy with platted stand of hair falling down his neck, disapproving stare watching your ever move as you were welcomed into the group of young Jedi’s– you knew that Obi Wan Kenobi was going to be anything but your friend.

The more time you spent around him, the more you were able to register his arrogance. How he always stuck to his allegiance, leaving little room for mistakes. Before you, he was always top of the class, earning the position of one of the most skilled and wise Jedi’s for his age, but all that changed the day you arrived on Coruscant.

Although you were slightly younger than your peers and were considerably inexperienced, you refused to let that stop you, you using your gifted skills to quickly climb to the top, soaring above those who’d been in the same field as you for far longer than you have.

And that angered Obi Wan to no extent. The same Council members who once showered him with endless praise, bringing him alongside missions that were far out of the league of his peers, were now giving you – someone who just less than a year prior had no knowledge of what a Jedi even was – the same treatment.

He couldn’t understand how you did it, and for that his hatred towards you grew. Sure, you were skilled, you could yield a lightsaber well, your aim with blasters was precise, and your bond with the force was as strong as his, but how you were able to achieve his level of expertise in the time you’d been there left him baffled.

As the years passed, you grew to know each other quite well – you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. You’d keep a close eye on him during missions, watching the muscles on his arms flex as he’d wave the glowing saber in defense, face stern and focused, and in return, he’d do the same, studying the patterns of your fighting style, the way your chest heaved as the loose strands of hair would cascade onto your face with each spin and duck.

You both unraveled each other's perks and quirks and seen one another in the best and worst of times, yet no matter how well one of you knew the other, the hatred was always there, evident and unwavering, you both making it known to each other that hate was the only emotion you held for one another – nothing else.

And it always remained that way... that was until Obi Wan came to the realisation that maybe his feelings were a masquerade for something much deeper

On a night when the moons shone brightly above the Jedi Temple when half of the Council returned from an off-planet meeting, Obi Wans Padawan Anakin was solemnly waiting for his Master's return in their shared apartment when a sudden uproar caught his attention. He traced the shouting to the entrance of the room, opening the door of their living quarters to find his Master and yourself standing opposite one another, an angered expression mirrored on both of your faces.

“... If you hadn’t been so selfish, I could’ve taken him out with ease” you shouted, one hand resting on your hip while the other poked at Kenobi’s chest.

“With ease? I’m starting to believe your delusions have reached new heights, because from my memory, they had you tied up to a post, wi-”

“But I got out! Freed myself! Something you would’ve seen if you weren’t so preoccupied trying to be the hero – again!”

“There’s a difference between trying to be a hero, and actually being one, something you wouldn’t kno-”

As amused as he was, Anakin stepped out of the doorway, yourself and Obi Wan falling silent once the Padawan made his presence known. Greeting yourself and his Master, he leant against the wall beside you both with a playful grin.

“If you wish to continue, I'd suggest taking this indoors. People do want to get some sleep at night, believe it or not”

Just as Obi Wan began to scold his Padawan, you interrupted, your feet dragging you backwards slowly as you spoke, “No need. It’s pointless trying to get through to him anyway. Goodnight, Anakin”

Pushing past the young boy beside him, Obi Wan walked through the entrance of his home, his blood boiling as he stormed towards the loungeroom, seating himself on the couch as his head fell into the palms of his hands.

Anakin wasn’t far behind, him resting on the arm of the opposite couch from the one Obi Wan was seated on, the amusement evident in his voice as he broke the silence.

“Well... that was interesting”

“Not now Anakin!”

“Hey, I haven’t done anything wrong, Master. If anything, you should be thanking me. It really was quite the disturbance you both were causing out the-”

“I said not now! I’ve had enough of this for tonight”

“She really knows how to get under your skin, doesn’t she? I’m starting to think she’s worse than me”

“Anakin” Obi Wan warned, his head lifting from his hands to stare at the boy before him.

“You’re always together. Always arguing. And you both get so riled up with one another. It’s as if you’re... like you’re couple that’s been in a marriage for all your life”

“I’m being quite serious Anakin, if you don-”

“It seems as if you're so disapproving you are of her. Which is strange because she’s good at what she does. She’s a great Jedi. Maybe you’re just jealous of her-”

“Anakin, that’s en-”

“Or maybe you’re in love with her, that could be it too” Anakin joked, a snort of laughter escaping his lungs.

Without saying another word, Obi Wan rose from his seat, brushing past the boy who had broken out in a fit of laughter, breathy apologies falling from his lips as he watched his Master disappear into his bedroom, where he wouldn’t appear from until the next morning.

Yet that night, Obi Wan barely got a wink of sleep, his heart hammering endlessly in his chest as Anakin's words combined with ghostly images of you swirled around his thoughts, the realisation of the truth within Anakin's lighthearted words haunting him till the sun rose the next day.

All this time Obi Wan was wrong. His deep-rooted obsession with you, his need to watch you whenever you’re within his vision, his desire to hear the rise of your voice when he pushes your buttons - he buttons only he knew how to push – wasn’t from a place of hatred. No, it was from a place of love. All this time he’d loved someone he swore to be his own personal enemy.

Yet, he refused to cave into his emotions. Keeping the guarded front of hatred up whenever you were near.

He repeatedly told himself it was because loving someone was against the Jedi code. That if he followed the true desires of his heart, everything he worked so hard for would be torn from him instantly. He’d have no purpose, no guidance, no home. And for that, resenting you somehow became easier, because he wouldn’t allow you to take that all away from him. But deep down, in a place he struggled to keep hidden, he was terrified of your true emotions, that if you were to reveal his true desire for you, you’d reject him, using his one weakness – his emotions for you - against him.

And for that, he kept up the false front, his behavior towards you unwavering, because hating you was far easier than loving you.

However, sometimes he didn’t have to continuously remind himself of that fact, Anakin's suggestion of you getting under his skin an obvious truth as he lost sight of you, his vision darting in each direction as he spun himself in a full 360 in the middle of the busy pathway.

Obi Wan and yourself were currently paired together on an assignment, one that could've been easily palmed off to Kenobi and his Padawan if it wasn’t for the younger boy being in recovery after having himself injured on their last mission.

The goal for the assignment was simple. There had been rumors floating around the temple of an underground club storing illegal weapons, which itself wouldn’t be an issue because as far as you were aware, half the clubs on Coruscant held their own illegal weapons, but once word spread that a group of bounty hunters were seeking to purchase the weapons, the Council decided to step in, hence yourself and Obi Wan being sent on the mission.

And it seemed simple. Disguise yourself as anything other than a pair of Jedi, go into the club, seek out the location of the stored weaponry, alert the Counsil of its whereabouts, and leave. Easy. The entire assignment could be finished in under an hour. Yet the moment you dressed yourself in the disguised outfit, you slipping into the thin fabric of the floor length black dress, you decided you wanted to make the most of the night out, allowing yourself to have a bit more fun than the Council would’ve intended you on having.

Obi Wan spun himself to the brink of dizziness when he finally paused, his eyes landing on your open back dress facing away from him as you stood at the entrance of a stall, you passing the man a handful of credits in exchange for the wide scarf.

Groaning in annoyance, Obi Wan weaved his way through the crowded night market, him overhearing your thanks to the shop keep as he finally reached you, you turning to face him right as he approached you.

“A scarf?” he questioned, his eyes lingering on your face as he took in your amused expression.

“I needed it” you replied, pushing past his tense frame as you began walking into the crowd once more. He watched as you slid the fabric across your arms, the width of it draping down your spine covering majority of your back, leaving a small slither of your skin exposed at the base of your dress, his eyes locked onto your flesh as you wandered off before it clicked that you were wandering off, him quickly jogging to catch up with you.

“You know” he huffed, “we do have an assignment to complete”

“And tell me, do we have a specific time frame required to complete this mission?”

“...No, however it wou-”

“No time frame means no need to rush” you said with raised eyebrows as you turned to look at Obi Wan, his eyes squinting as he faced forwards.

“I think it would be rather beneficial to get this over and done with”

“Why? Have you got somewhere better to be, Kenobi?”

“Well, no. But I'd pref-”

“Then we can take as long as we need. Besides, how often is it that we get to leisure like this out of the Temple? Well, I can only speak on my own behalf. I don’t care for whatever slacking off you do in your free time”

“I do not ‘slack off’. Unlike some people, I take my role seriously”

“If I didn’t take my role seriously, they wouldn’t have chosen me to be on this assignment, would’ve they?”

“Only because Anakin's not here” Obi Wan mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, causing an angry warmth beneath your skin to flare up, your face snapping to meet the man beside yours once more.

“And why isn’t your Padawan here? Maybe if his Master knew know how to provide adequate guidance, he wouldn’t have to resort to the medical bay once a week!”

Obi Wan ignored your verbal jab, his eyes glancing at the rows of stalls as you both continued through the market, triumph slowly building inside you at his lack of a comeback until he redirected his walk to cut directly in front of you, his words a whisper as he passed your frame.

“Say’s the Jedi without their own Padawan”

“Hey!” you called, his feet quickening due to the clearing of the crowds as he headed towards the markets exit. Fastening your own pace, you caught up with him, prepared to argue back to his statement before he hushed you, his movements coming to a halt.

“That's our destination. Master Yoda believes the weapons are stored on-”

“The first or second floor beneath the club. I know. Might I remind you, I'm also on the Council” you stated, your shoulder bumping his as you passed him and began to draw closer to the entrance of the building when you felt a firm grasp around your wrist, stopping you from any further movements.

“Don’t you... Wouldn’t it be best to think of a plan before walking in there?”

“We already have a plan” You sighed in annoyance, you now facing him while his fingers remained wrapped around your skin.

“But what if were questioned?”

“We won’t be”

“We need to be on the same page if they questio-”

“We won’t be”

“If we get caught, and you begin some-”

“Kenobi! I’m telling you we will not be caught! Can you just trust me for once?!”

His eyes widened in shock, his raised eyebrows furrowing after a moment's silence, a burst of air leaving his nostrils as he did a firm nod, his hand falling from yours as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Fine... But if a single thing goes south-” he started, you huffing as you turned your back to him and marched towards the entrance of the club, Obi Wan following you behind as you neared the tinted glass doors reflecting the neon flashing signs of the streets above.

Approaching the entrance, the two doors slide open, revealing the dim lights and bassy instrumental echoing within the club. You scanned the room as you entered it, your nose scrunching at the faded colored curtains draping across each wall and the clouds of thin smoke wafting across the roof, your eyes falling on the grim looking creature perched behind the reception desk.

You slowed your pace until Obi Wan was standing beside you when you suddenly slid your arm beneath his, your arms interlocked drawing you closer to one another as you inched towards the reception desk. You could feel his confused gaze burning into the side of your face, but you ignored it, your face remaining emotionless as you approached the creature at the desk.

“Reservation for 4-16" you spoke clearly, Obi Wans eyes now bouncing between yours and the creatures.

“Name?” the being mumbled, his hands gliding across the vibrant hologram raised on the surface of the desk.

“Waters” you replied, your voice stern as you watched his fingers dance across the glitchy lights, him tapping a few times before humming in approval, his bulging eyes returning to yours as he spoke.

“You’re cleared. Pleasure to have you back, Miss Waters”

Without looking back, you directed Obi Wan into the club, the two of you heading towards the row of ceiling high booth without saying a word. Unlinking your arm from his, you shimmied yourself into the booth, Obi Wan following behind you, seating himself a foot away from you.

“Care to explain?”

“I told you to trust me” you said unphased as you flattered out the fabric across your stomach.

“Who is Miss Waters?” he pushed, him continuing to glare at you, you picking up on the sense that he wouldn't drop this topic without answers.

“A fake name, clearly” you answered shortly, your eyes looking anywhere besides the man next to you who was growing more agitated by the minute, you jumping in your seat at the sudden sensation of his hand on your knee.

“This is a shared mission! I’m required to know what you’re doing, so if need be, I can be in on whatever this is as well”

Your head snapped to face him, your voice low yet firm as you quickly replied.

“For the last time, I told you to trust me! And if you don’t, there’s no use for you being here. You know where the door is, or do you need help finding it?”

Before he had the chance to reply, both of your heads turned to face the slim figure that was approaching your booth with a friendly smile, you forcing your cheeks to rise as you mirrored their joyous emotion.

“Miss Waters, it’s been quite some time! How has life been treating you?”

“Same old, you know how it is. And you?”

“Busy. But it’s good to see a familiar face” he said, bending slightly to place a tray of assorted fruits and four glasses of a smokey green liquid on the table.

“Oh... Grolo, this really isn’t necessary for tonight”

“Nonsense, it’s on the house” Grolo replied before stepping backwards, his hands crossing as he nodded while speaking, “Room 24 is prepared to your liking for when you’re ready. You two enjoy your evening”

You waited until Grolo disappeared from your eyesight before you raised your palms to your face, your heart beginning to beat slightly quicker from the conversation, you truly wanting to remain unexposed from the man beside you.

“So... Familiar face, huh?”

“Kenobi” you warned, you shielding your eyes from the world around you with your palms, Obi Wans own palm still resting on your knee.

“And what’s this ‘room 24’?”

“None of your business, that’s what it is”

“But it will be... once the Council is notified about the cheat that is lying under their noses”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a sudden anger sparking inside you as you dropped your hands, your body shifting to face the man beside you.

“If you even think about speaking a word of this to them, I'll shatter each glass on this table and force it down your throat!”

Leaning back against the fabric of the booth, he brought one hand to his beard, scaping it slowly as he watched you, while the other slid an inch up your skin, unwavering from its position as he pushed, “Then confess whatever it is that you’re hiding about this place, what you’re hiding about yourself”

You wanted to call him out on his bluff, wanted to believe that he wouldn’t speak a word of what he’s already witnessed to the Council – wanted to trust him – yet you knew you couldn’t, you fully aware of his devotion to his job. So you leaned forward, grabbing two of the four drinks in front of you and bringing them to your lips, you shotting one after another like the liquid had no burning aftertaste, you in desperate need of any confidence boost for what you’re about to tell the man you resented the most.

“Fuck. Fine. This...” you started, pausing momentarily with hesitation, Obi Wans eyes lingering on your face as you sighed, “This all began quite some time ago now.”,

“Master Yoda caught word of a potential bounty passing though this area of Coruscant every few nights. He knew it was too risky himself to check the area out, so he sent me”,

“His intentions were to get any information on the man. If the potential bounty belonged to a gang, if he had a following, who he was involved with. I came here, unsure if the bounty would even step foot in this place, with no indication on how to secure the information Yoda wanted”

“And the mission was successful?” Kenobi asked, his hand still raking through the hairs on his chin.

You nodded, swallowing the nerves building inside your tightening throat from what you were confessing for the first time.

“Call it intuition, or even the Force, but he ended up coming here. I sparked a conversation, and he fell right into my trap. I knew it was too risky to use any of my... Force abilities. So I tried something else, and it worked after some time. He told me what I needed to know, and I reported it all-”

“What was it?”

“What was what?”

“Your method. Possibly spiking of his drink? I wouldn’t put that past you-”

“Seduction, actually” you spat, your features lifting with your matter-of-fact tone while his jumped in shock, a small cough escaping his mouth as he suddenly leaned forward, the hand that was resting on your leg now shooting across the table to grab ahold of one of the remaining drinks.

“Seeing how successful it was” you continued, a half smiling tugging at your lips from the surprise your statement caused, “I decided to come back and try it again on a different occasion. And that’s how it started. The more I came here, the more potential threats would walk through those doors – Grolo’s bar being sort of a... hot spot, I guess, for people who want to remain unseen. I’d buy each one a drink here and there, enough for them to lose track of what they’re saying, sweet talk them the way a man like them would want to be spoken to, and suddenly the information I'd want would pour out of them. Easily”

“But why do it if it wasn’t necessary?”

“Because it kept me one step ahead. I attained information no other Council member had. Their confessions helped me out on multiple missions. I know who's connected to who, and who to avoid, where these people stay, what threats they pose. Besides, you and I both know how slowly the Council can move at times. I’ve just pushed myself to have a head start”

“So you’d... seduce these... men into giving you information, out of your own will?”

“Yes, Kenobi. I did” you said, your eyes switching from his face to the single drink remaining, you leaning forwards to grab it, your pulse jumping as you pretending to ignore the way Obi Wans eyes watched your moving frame, “But nothing I've done is against the Jedi code, nor is it a crime”

“Not yet. You’re yet to inform me about this ‘room 24’”

You remained silent as you rested back into the seat, you bringing the drink to your lips as your eyes lingered on Obi Wans, your stomach beginning to churn at the thought of you sharing your deepest secret to the man you’d wish to keep your secret from most.

“Or you can tell the rest of the Council themselves, I'm sure they’d love to know” he said, his tone flat as he slowly began shuffling himself out of the booth, you immediately snapping your hand to wrap around his forearm stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t! Just... Believe me, Obi Wan, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be”

“And why should I have faith in your words? You can’t even tell me what is that you’re hiding, how can I trust that!”

“Okay... Just sit, please”

With a small huff, he returned to his previous position, spinning himself around to face the bar behind him, arm waving towards the empty tray on the table before adjusting himself to face you once more, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he did so.

“If you’re going to make me stay, I might as well make it worth my while” he said coolly as one of the bartenders approached the booth with a full tray of drinks, swiftly placing it on the table, replacing the now empty one. He reached forward, his body barely lifting from the back of the seat as he grabbed the glass, his eyes looking deeply into yours as he took a sip causing the pits of your stomach to ignite with warmth. “Now finish the story, or I'm leaving. Don’t make me regret this decision” he said, following with your name at the end of the sentence.

You wanted to push him, tease him about how precious the Council was to him, but you bit your tongue as you drowned the rest of your drink fully knowing there was no way out of the hole you unwillingly dug yourself in.

Here goes nothing.

“I was here every few weeks, doing the same routine. But... one night, things sort of changed. This scoundrel from Coruscant's south, no matter how hard I pushed, he gave no information on what I wanted to know. At first, I was in control, but the more we consumed, the more I... drifted from my purpose. Things started to take a turn, and... well, one thing led to another, and we... you know. I didn’t end up getting the information I wanted out of him, so when I came back, I tried again with someone who had connections to the scoundrel, but I was met with the same fate. After that, my purpose for coming to this side of town had a... different meaning”

As the words left your lips, Obi Wans entire demeaner shifted, his relaxed composure becoming stiff, his jaw locked with tension as his eyes glared at you, a pit of rage boiling within him at your confession. Yet he kept himself together, trying to attain his burning jealousy as you continued your story.

“Grolo, whenever I'd return, he’d allow me to stay in a room here with these... people. Room 24. He had trust in me, because I'd brought in good revenue for him with all my previous assignments, and he refused each man from leaving the next morning without covering the bill for the night's stay. We build sort of an understanding, a bond – myself and Grolo. I supplied him with customers, he supplied me with a free room”

Concluding your confession, you released the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding back, you shotting the remainder of your drink before speaking once more, “That's all it is, Obi Wan. I’m not a criminal, or a cheat to the Council, so you can drop the need you so desperately have to inform the Council of any of this”

You both sat in a momentary silence, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for any sort of response from Kenobi, his silence out of character. Yet your pulse was met with a match, Obi Wan feeling as though his own heart was bound to leap out of his chest any moment due to the spiraling anger within him. Images began to play in his mind of the story you shared, flashes of your naked frame entangled with another - someone who wasn’t him - blinding his vision entirely, him taking no note of the rattling glass in his hand until the soft call of his named tore him from his thoughts.

“... Obi Wan?” you mumbled, your hand reaching out towards him, your fingers barely grazing his skin before he pulled back, his voice a sharp slice as he spat his words.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“I’m sorry?” you questioned, your already hammering heart going into overdrive from his outburst.

“Are you in some state of delusion? You’d be foolish to believe any of this is okay”

"What are you... I told you I've done noth-”

“There's something in this lifestyle you’re hiding amongst that you truly desire. These relations, you want them more than you’re allowing yourself to believe. You’ve gone against me-… Against the Jedi Code. I thought you were smarter than this, but clearly, I was wrong about you”

Absorbing his belittlement, your shock was quickly switched to anger, you hurt that he was speaking to you this way after you opened to him for the first time about something nobody else knew, something that you would’ve never had spoken on if it wasn’t for his threats in the first place.

“Don’t try and act as though you’re innocent, Obi Wan, like you’ve never had some fun before. We all remember whatever it was that happened between yourself and Dutchess Satine!” The Dutchess’s name on your tongue left a sour after taste, a quick flash of memories passing through your mind as you spoke, images of Obi Wan watching the woman fondly, her arm entwined with his and they walked together, the memory so bitter in your mind that it only added fuel to your already wild flame.

“What you’re doing is incomparable to that. It was a moment of clouded judgement, of weakness. It was a half-whited act, but nowhere near as close to what you’ve been doing”

“My business is different!” The alcohol you’d consumed began to take full effect, you unaware of just how loud you were both shouting at one another until you noticed the turning of heads surrounding the booth, various eyes falling on yourself and Obi Wan.

“And how is that?!”

“You formed an attachment, I didn’t! You got entangled with emotions, I'm only after momentary fulfillment!”

“You are surely blinded! This is outrag-”

You weren’t sure what pushed you over the edge – possibly the heat flushed against your cheeks or the tears beginning to well behind your eyes - but you finally got fed up with the ongoing argument, you swiftly rising from the seat, your body swaying slightly as you shuffled yourself towards the exit of the booth.

Before you had the chance to walk off, you felt a forceful grip suddenly wrap around your wrist, his soft plea for you to stop barely audible as you cut him off immediately, snatching your arm from his as you spat back, “Don’t!”

Shocked expressions were blurred around you as you stormed off, the effort of not allowing your hot tears to spill over blocking out the calling pleas of your name from behind you. You repeatedly attempted deep breaths as you pushed your way around passing creatures, your shaky hands a direct result of the alcohol and adrenaline cocktail flowing through your bloodstream.

Muscle memory navigated you through the various hallways leading you towards the back rooms, your fingers dancing along the keypad of the door you knew too well, a small flash of green blinking before the door unlocked, you pushing the steel frame open. Immediately you were welcomed with dim lighting, the smell of vanilla wafting through your nose as you waved your hands towards your face, your palms cuffing your eyes as you exhaled sharply.

For a few quiet moments, you stayed in that position, the fire inside you putting up a continuous fight towards your attempt of calming yourself, you completely unaware of the presence that had joined you in the room until you heard the thunder of the steel door forcefully closing behind you causing you to rapidly twirl in shock, your hands ripping from your eyes as they connected with the blue eyes glairing back at you.

You watched each other in silence, the anger within you sparking up at the sight of him, your previous attempts at becoming calmer thrown out the window within seconds. As his eyes scanned your frame, his somewhat stiff stance loosened, his eyes softening as he absorbed your upset state. His mouth opened to speak, but before he had the chance to mutter a single syllable, your words silenced his, the sentences freely falling from your lips.

“When all this began, for the first time in my life, I felt as if I was lifted from any burden. Weightless from all responsibilities. No rules, no restrictions, no Council or Jedis. Do you know how freeing that felt? To be nothing but a girl having some fun with a stranger at a bar? It was like being able to breathe again for the first time!”

He listened to each word you spoke, his mouth remaining shut as he stepped towards you, you moving yourself in the opposite direction as he did so.

“It was harmless fun Kenobi! Believe it or not, I really don’t care, but that’s all it was! And if you’re so opposed by it, go ahead and tell the Council!!”

“No” he mumbled flatly, his eyes never leaving yours as his head shook, his body moving another step closer to yours.

“Why not?!” you shouted, the back of your knees finally hitting the edge of the bed as you backed away from his approaching body, “Maybe they’ll believe you, banish me from the temple. You’ll be able to reign free, the great General Kenobi at the peak of his game!”

“No” he repeated, this time louder as he began to close in on you, a warm puddle forming in the pit of your stomach as you noticed a glimmer of crazy in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

“Thats what you’ve strived for all these years, isn’t it? The moment I stepped foot in that temple you wanted me out of there! Nows your chance! I know this is what you want to do, so just do it!”

Within the blink of an eye, his arms extended in front of him, his warm palms landing on your waist as he pulled you towards him, your chest slamming into his, your breath knocked from your lungs at the contact. His head tilted down to meet yours, one arm removing itself from your waist only to place itself on your chin, his fingers pinching your skin as he directed your head to face his.

“You have no idea what I want!”

The small blow of his breath drifted across your open lips, the sensation sending a wave of tingles down your spine, a pool of warmth forming between your weekend legs as his angered eyes peered into your own.

“You think having you removed from the council is what I desire? To not have you within reach, have you out of my eyesight for even a single second? I would rather take a blade to the skull than to have you out of my life, leaving me miserable while you’re out there being fulfilled by some low life stranger who doesn’t even know your real name”

As the last sentence left his lips, he pulled your body as close as possible, your heart fluttering as you breathily gasped, his following words causing you to almost fall to your knees as he whispered them onto your flushed skin, “They could never do what needs to be done with you. You don’t even know what real fulfillment is”

Lifting your head, his fingers still attached to your skin, you inched your face towards him, you pausing at the soft touch of his lips brushing yours, your words vibrating the curve of his bottom lip as you whispered, “...Then why don’t you show me?”

The breath was knocked from your lungs once more as your frame was suddenly pushed backwards, you collapsing onto the mattress with force, Obi Wans body close behind you as he softly landed on top of you. Leaving no time to waste, he spread his knees to rest on the outsides of your thighs, his hands grabbing at your waist once more as he shuffled you towards the top of the mattress, your body effortlessly tossed towards the soft pillows.

Barely able to settle from his rapid moving of your body, he crawled his way back on top of you, his lips immediately connecting with the base of your jaw causing an audible sigh to clear from your lungs.

“You have no idea...” he started, each word interrupted by a sloppy kiss as he worked his way down your neck, “how deeply I've wanted... how deeply I've... needed you”

His confession made your mind swirl, your hands instinctively gripping at his clothing, trembling fingers unbuttoning and tugging the fabric away from his torso as he roughly worked his mouth across your skin. With each suck and nip, your breaths drew deeper which only seemed to encourage him more.

“For countless years... my every waking moment” he breathed, his hips connecting to meet with yours, you noticing the stiffness between his legs for the first time causing you to groan, “... has been consumed with thoughts of you”

His upper body now rid of clothes, you suddenly felt extremely warm in your own clothing, your head tossing to the side as you struggled to free your arms from the twisted scarf clinging to them. Noticing your movements, Obi Wan withdrew himself from your neck, his movements twice as fast as he assisted in removing your scarf, him balling the item up and tossing it behind him, you taking the small moment to focus on his lips, the skin dark and plump, the wetness glazed across the his lips giving you the urge to connect your own with his.

Returning to face you, his eyes caught sight of your gaze, his heart skipping a beat when you made contact with him. Your flushed cheeks and darked pupils almost sent him into a complete frenzy, but the small pull of your soft smile drew him back into reality, him needing to clear any doubts before continuing, his one arm keeping him hovered above you while the other stroked a strand of hair from your cheek.

“If... if this isn’t what you want, we can st-”

Unable to wait a moment longer, you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him into you as you pushed your lips onto his. The moment you made contact, pure euphoria spread itself through each nerve in Obi Wans body, him kissing you back twice as hard as his heart leaped in his chest. Finally, he thought.

You pulled back slightly, your attempt to speak cut short as Obi Wan eagerly chased your lips, him deepening the kiss the moment his skin met yours, not wanting to spend another second away from your lips.

You allowed him to take you in, his lips dancing along with yours as his hips began to slowly grind onto you, your soft sigh tumbling into his mouth causing him to kiss you deeper.

“Obi” you mumbled, him humming in reply, completely engulfed by bliss, his lips never leaving yours.

“Obi Wan” you repeated, this time louder as you pulled away from him with a small laugh.

As much as you were enjoying the sensation of his lips on yours, the ever-growing pulse between your legs was growing stronger with every passing moment, and you were on the edge of becoming desperate.

“What is it?” Kenobi questioned, his eyes clouding with doubt as he scanned your face, your delicate hand now combing back his long hair welcoming him with immediate reassurance.

“I need you...” Your simple worlds caused the man to completely crumble, the sentence one he’d dreamt of for countless years, certain he’d never have the pleasure of being on the receiving end when you said it. Yet there he was, laying on top of the woman he loved, the worlds a looping constant in his mind as he watched you. “... Please”

As if sprung back to life from the dead, he didn’t want to wait a single moment longer, his hands frantic as they reached around to the back of your neck, unfastening your dress and peeling the fabric from your upper body and down to your hips, you shuffling on the mattress, assisting him in any way you could. Pulling the material down your legs, he used one hand to toss it behind him, the other tugging the shoes from your feet before he did the same to himself, ridding him of his pants and footwear before returning his attention to you.

Stoll hovering above you, he spends a small moment ogling at your naked torso, the way your sprawled hair and tinted cheeks complemented your exposed skin. He was certain he was in the presence of an angel, wishing he could freeze the sight of you before him and stare at it for eternity, yet the harness between his legs prevented him from doing otherwise, him lowering himself to your chest.

His hands roamed freely across your skin, the sensation of his drifting fingers leaving your hairs standing on edge as his mouth now worked itself across your shoulder blades, each hot kiss leaving a trail of wetness behind.

Even though you had no intention of staying quiet, small sighs and groans fell freely into the air, each one growing louder as Obi Wan worked his way down your body, him coming to a standstill as his mouth reached your breast.

His mouth occupied with one, his hand now toying with the other, your breathing grew heavier in pleasure, only spiraling the frenzy that burned inside Obi Wan.

“Oh my... oh my god” you breathed, your hands shifting between the back of his shoulder blades and the strands of his hair.

“You’re so beautiful” he mumbled dreamily, his mouth and hands switching positions as he worked himself across to your right breast, his hand now kneading your left.

Although you were coursing with pleasure, you still needed more, you growing impatient with his slow teasing.

“Obi Wan, I...”

“Yes, my darling?”

“I need more”

“More?” he teased, his head lifting from your chest and snaking its way to your neck, him now trailing a row of small pecks to your ear, pausing to whisper, “Tell me what you want”

“Your hands. Please, Obi”

An exhale of laughter blew into your ear, Obi Wans mouth finding your own as his hand snaked its way down your body, his hand slightly trembling as it reached the lining of your underwear. He toyed with the edge of the fabric, your lips mashing with his as your hips lifted in reflex to the touch, pushing him to continue.

As his fingers dug beneath the fabric, you released a rumbly moan into his mouth, the sound causing him to eagerly press further, the pads of his fingers collecting wetness as he explored. Your sounds of pleasure grew more rapidly as his fingers moved, him finding your bundle of nerves with ease causing you to cry out and press up onto his hand, a smirk forming on his face as you did so.

Both your palms now held his cheeks, keeping his lips pressed against yours as his hand worked on your below, a rhythm forming in his movements causing a buildup to form within you, a pressure initiating in your core.

Keeping his thumb on your bud, his index and middle finger explored lower, pausing at your opening.

“Is this what you desire?” he asked between kisses, his voice low and rough. You nodded in agreement, your eyes shut in bliss as his thumb continued its movements.

“You words. I need your words”

“Yes!” you cried desperately into his mouth, a sigh leaving both of your lips as his fingers entered you.

His movements started slow, him taking in each new feeling as his fingers slowly worked in and out, but it wasn’t until he felt the connection of your hip meeting his hands that he allowed himself to speed up, your continuous moans on his lips reassurance that you were enjoying yourself. It wasn’t long before the tension within you began rapidly building to new heights, the two of you breathing deeply into one another.

“Obi...” you moaned, your mouth detaching from him, bottom lip falling slack as your skin began to tingle with pleasure, “I’m... I'm close”

His movements stayed steady, your hands beginning to shake as you drew closer to your release until everything suddenly stopped, his fingers inside you now a ghostly presence as he removed his hands from beneath your underwear, bringing them to his own, him pulling the fabric down as you gaped at him in disbelief of what he’d just done.

“Why did you st-”

Your questioning was interrupted with a firm, sloppy kiss, you jumping at the return of his hands as they fell on the side of your leg, grabbing the fabric of the only remaining piece of clothing on your body before tugging them down your thighs.

“I need to feel you, now” he said as he leant back on his knees, readjusting to both of you around so that his legs were between yours, your legs bent and thighs spread as he lowered himself, his body straight as he hovered above you once more. His free hand grabbed his shaft, lining it up with your core, his eyes peering up at you as he did so.

“Are you s-”

“Obi” you groaned in annoyance, your body still tingling from his edging just before.

“I need you to be sure” he said back with a competitive tone, yet the small smile on his face revealed anything but anger.

“I want you Obi Wan. Right now. Please”

With your green light, he thrusted his hip towards you, your entrance welcoming his tip as he lowered himself into you, the sounds leaving both of your mouths a cocktail of pure pleasure. He moved slowly, wanting to prevent causing you any discomfort but also needing to savor the feeling. This really is heaven, he thought.

Dragging himself in and out, he refused to pick up his pace until you granted him to do so, a wave of excitement spreading through him as your hips began to meet his. He entered you with more force, hip colliding with yours as he rocked into you, causing you to cry out in satisfaction.

“Faster” you mumbled, your head falling sideways as he began to move more vigorously.

“What was that?” he teased, pretending to not hear your words.

“Please, faster, Obi Wan!” you cried.

His speed doubled as he worked into you, both of your bodies rocking in sync as he lowered his mouth to your neck, his lingering pecks growing sloppier as he the time passed, vocal groans and heavy puffs rumbling against your now tender skin.

The familiar building began to form within the pits of your stomach once more, your hands reaching out to claw at the exposed skin of Kenobi's back as you breathlessly moaned, “Fuck... You’re so good”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmh hmmm” you nodded, his lips snaking their way down to your chest once more before returning to your face, his forehead resting on yours as his wild eyes peered down into yours.

“No other scum can please you the way I can” he groaned somewhat angrily, his lips pressing onto yours forcefully as his thrusting hardened causing a cry to crawl itself out from your throat, “Only I can... God, only I can have you like this. Tell me only I make you feel this good”

“Obi Wan!” you called, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the ache in your core drew closer to release.

“I said tell me!” he paused, his hand snaking its way down to your thigh, gripping the skin and hiking your leg up beside him causing his thrusts to fall deeper inside you.

“It’s only you, Obi- Oh my... Only you make me feel this good!”

“That’s right...” he cooed, placing a kiss to your swollen lips as his forehead returned to yours, his eyes lapping up the visual pleasure displaced across your face.

Your cries both messy and loud, your hands began to shake once more as you were now on the edge of your release, Obi Wans own pent up tension a reflection of yours as he bucked into you.

“I’m... I’m...” you stuttered, your hands frantic on his skin as his breath fanned your face, you unable to finish your sentence as his mouth returned to yours for a final time, his free hand gripping your skin tightly as you reached your peaks, you crying out inaudible appraisals as you came undone, your nails digging into Obi Wans flushed skin as he rocked into you, his release directly chasing yours, his loud moans echoing in your ears.

You rode the wave of your highs together, his hips continuing to rock into yours as he emptied himself inside of you, his mind a haze of complete bliss as you held him, your rocky breaths across his skin sending shivers down his spine.

You stayed like that for what you wished could be an eternity, basking in the euphoria that coursed through your veins as you both relaxed into one another, you gasping as Obi Wan removed himself from your warm walls before plummeting onto your frame, your skin to skin contact an immediate warming comfort.

Catching your breaths, your hand raked the skin on his back, your palms soothing the red scratches you created just moments before as he delicately placed fluttery kisses on your already bruising collarbones. Neither of you had spoken a word, you both basking in the moment, absorbing the affections you were gifting to one another before Obi Wans head rose from your chest, his eyes slightly glassy as he drew in your attention.

“As cathartic as that was... we do have an assignment to complete” he joked, the hair on his chin tickling the skin on your chest as it bounced with laughter, you tossing your head back with a groan before peeking down at him once more, his wide smile a reflection of your own.

“I hate you, Kenobi” you teased, your hands snaking their way up through his hair, your fingers pausing to give a section of strands a slight tug as you spoke causing his smile to widen.

“My darling, I hate you more than you’ll ever know”

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan fanfic #obi wan kenobi smut #obi wan smut #jealous obi wan kenobi #enemies to lovers #requests #requested #requests open #ewan mcgregor #star wars #star wars prequels

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vilegores · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋. ♡

simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

warnings: adult content(18+), feminine terms used (princess, she/her pronouns, etc.), mutual masturbation, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink, praise kink, slight daddy kink, phone sex, overstimulation.

simon loves the fact that you're innocent.

he thrives in knowing that you're such a naïve thing when it comes to the awareness of what goes on inside the bedroom.

it delights him at the thought of teaching you the things you've been deprived of; it was nasty of him and it's taking everything in his power to constrain himself.

so when you suddenly facetiming him at two in the morning, asking how to touch yourself, his brain just went haywire at the filth that filled his mind.

"how are you feeling right now, baby?" he questions, voice low and raspy as he tried to contain such impurities from spilling out of his mouth, his dick starting to stir against the tight fabric of his boxers.

you whine softly on the other side of the phone; too ashamed that you came up to him with such erotic questions, "i feel like—" you stop mid-way, taking a deep breath in, "—like i want to be touched." you answered truthfully, knowing better than to lie to him.

"does my angel want to touch herself?" he asks, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, now palming himself to soothe it's aching needs. "use your words, pretty girl."

the change in his demeanor, despite it being behind the cellphone screen caused you to fall into quick submission, “y-yes, simon, please.” your words causing your cheeks to glow a rosy pink at the realization that you have never even done it yourself. you looked away from his piercing gaze, voice soft and timid, “but i’ve never done it before”

those words were enough to make simon cream in his boxers from the euphoria he was feeling that you were, indeed, such an innocent being at his mercy. but he knew he had to take it slow, to pace things just so he wouldn’t overwhelm you with the activities he would love to do to you.

“then i can help you out, princess.” he says softly, shifting in his position so his back was against the headboard of his hotel bedroom.

his dark orbs blown with lust as he catches your uncertainty through the screen, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek. “do you want me to help you out, doll?” he asks, wanting to hear you say that you wanted to do this with him.

you nod, nipping at your bottom lip as you look back at him, his disheveled state making the unknown ache in the middle of your legs intensify. “yes, simon. please,” you ask once more, cheeks flaring up at the unusual way of begging.

“prompt your camera somewhere on the bed, daddy wants to see you.” simon orders, his tone quiet yet firm. his eyes were glued to the screen as he watched you shift the camera for a bit until you had it prompted against a small pile of pillows, your body in full view for the camera.

catching a glimpse of you in his shirt made him throw his head back, a groan escaping his lips. “are you wearing anything underneath? take it all off.”

easily complying, you stripped off from his clothes only to reveal that you were completely naked underneath, earning another satisfied hum from the male. his voice was octave lower, “open up for me.” as he watched you with an intense stare, motioning you to open up your legs for him.

you spread your legs wide open, your soaking cunt glistening and in full view in the camera just for him. you can hear him mumble a string of curses mixed with praises from the sight, “show me what you know, princess.” you followed, a single hand snaking down as a single digit swipes your slit gently, eyes closing at the foreign pleasure.

simon was in heaven seeing you touch yourself, “go on, doll. just like that.” was all that he managed to say, taking his cock out of his boxers as he slowly started to pump himself, his thumb circling around his tip to catch some of the pre-cum that coated it.

you then stumble upon your aching clit, rubbing circles on the bud gently as waves of pleasure roll out your mouth, your back arching lightly as your legs tremble to stay wide open. “keep those legs open, pretty girl. daddy wants to see everything you’re doing.” his voice was low, soft grunts of his own pleasure ringing in your ear.

“i want to see everything that you’re going to do once i get home tomorrow.”

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost smut #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 10 months ago

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Just Take It | Part Three | Jungkook's Point of View

Summary: Jungkook is losing his grip and con't seem to get you out of his head, little does he know he's all you've been able to think about too. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 3.5k~ (Damn this was supposed to be a short one lmao) Read Part 3 from oc's pov first! Warnings: Smuuuuttt, Explicit Language and a crap ton of pet names (Mirror of the dialogue from part 3) a/n: So I got this request and I figured it would be fun to write an alternate chapter in Jungkook's pov so send in asks if you would like to see more of these hehe Drabble requested by an anon 💜

After coming home from the gym I take my time getting into the shower, making sure I have something planned for dinner when she comes home.

"Shit" I mumble, all these fucking hormones have been driving me wild these days. What am I a teenager? Just the thought of her at this point drives me mad. The fact that she comes home to me night after night and fills my whole house with her scent.

I don't know how I've managed to hold myself back for this long. After checking things out down here I go upstairs and start the shower and let it run for a while, waiting for it to warm up.

Taking a good look in the mirror I take note of my dilated pupils. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to ground myself but nothing seems to be working. If anything it's getting worse.

I clench my jaw as I feel myself start to get hard just by the thought of her tired little body coming home after a long day at work, so ready to rest and relax with me for the night.

Fuck I wish I could do something to help the both of us relax.

She was always a shy girl around me, so innocent and kind and beautiful and "Fuck" I curse at the feeling of my dick rubbing my against my boxers and I know I'm done for. Looking down I see the obvious tent that's slowly growing under my sweats and I know I'm gonna need to take care of it.

Stripping out of my clothes I walk into the shower and let the water run down my back, my hand pressed up against the wall as I look down at my dick that's begging to be touched.

'I really shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be thinking about her like this, but I can't control myself. I wrap my hand around it, pumping it back and forth at a lazy pace, coaxing myself to get harder.

"Shit" I groan as I run my thumb over the head, collecting the pre cum that's already started to leak out. I take my time playing with just the tip, teasing myself and making my hips stutter from the need of more friction.

"Y/n" I call out quietly, loving how her name tastes on my tongue while I'm doing something so forbidden. I rub my pre cum up and down my shaft, making obscene noises that make me close my eyes, helping me imagine that it's her that’s here doing this to me.

Bucking my hips into my fist I rest my forehead against the wall, steadying myself and letting my hips thrust as hard as they want, chasing that delicious high I'm begging to chase. "Fuck yes Bunny just like that. Shit y/n, fuck" I groan, lost in the moment and not giving a fuck if anyone were to hear me.

She won't be home until later so fuck it.

Squeezing harder leaves me grunting and my hips falter, my fist now running up and down my cock, giving me so my pleasure it's almost too much. I let out a breathy moan, thinking about the image of her on her knees, with those innocent doe eyes playing with me and learning how to please me.

"Fuck, wish I could have you in here y/n. My pretty little Bunny" I let out, a little louder than I would've liked but who gives a fuck. All I care about is fantasizing about my naïve little girl asking to suck me off, eyes watering but begging me to teach her so she can make me feel good.

"Darling want you so so bad. Come choke on this cock, there you go, just like that Bun" I say, a trail of curses following as I feel myself getting closer to the edge. Her, hair, her eyes, her smile, those lips, those gorgeous lips that taunted me with pleas for me to take it. Take her and be her first.

"Shit" I curse, my hand having a mind of it's own as it picks up the pace, bringing me higher and higher until I tip over. Her name attached to a string of curses, dying to be able to praise her for how good she is to me. How good she would be for me.

Turning the shower water to cold I quickly wash my hair and body and try to erase the memory of what I just did. I know that I don't have the time to do it again and from the way I fucking came so hard I don't think I would be able to live it down if I let that happen again just from the memory of her alone.

Getting out of the shower and checking the time I'm grateful to see that I don't have to worry about having been too loud since there's still an hour or so before she's due back.

Even if she did hear me I wouldn't give a fuck. I know she knows that I'm attracted to her and oh what a conversation starter that would be....

~~~~~

Things were weird when she came home and dinner was even weirder. As I watch her head upstairs after saying goodnight I go over our various conversations today.

When she came home she didn't have her bags with her like she always does. She brings her purse and her laptop bag in every single day so the sight of her walking in without them could only mean one thing.

She definitely heard me in the shower today. Fuck, I know I said that I wouldn't care if she heard me but now after seeing the way she was acting tonight I can't help but wonder if I messed up.

She's a fucking virgin and she walks in today, exhausted from work and the first thing she hears is a grown man moaning and fantasizing about her in the shower.

I should've been more careful. Fuck I shouldn't have done it at all.

After going round and round and cursing at myself for scaring her off I decide it's time to head to bed. There's no use staying up if I'm just gonna stress out about how I fucked up. Not like I can go back and change things now.

~~~~~~

Tossing and turning is added to the act of scolding myself, the act of having gone to bed not making things any better like I had thought. In fact it's made things worse.

Fuck if I had no sense of self respect I would do it all over again but I can't. I need to make things right by her. I need to apologize.

Against my best efforts I'm not able to drift of to sleep in the slightest so I decide to get a glass of water downstairs and take a breather to hopefully aide in making these doubts find their way out but right when I open my door I hear noises coming from her room.

I slowly walk towards it, thinking that she might've left the TV on or something. I stop in my tracks, the roles definitely having been reversed now as I hear her breathy moans unlike me, trying her best to stay quiet.

I wish she would get louder. I wish I could have her screaming and moaning my name so loud that even the neighbors can hear it.

"Jungkook please" are the words I had only dreamed of hearing from her, her melodic voice dripping with need and I can tell she's so desperate to cum. She sounds adorable, but I bet she'll start to get frustrated soon. Upset that her fingers are too small to do the job.

"Fuck!" I hear fall from her lips, making me want to fall to my knees.

I never knew she would have such a dirty mouth. I fucking wish I could watch her as she comes undone and as her whines get louder I decide to place my hand on the door knob and twist it open. One little peek won't do any harm.

With the way I'm planning on fighting for her she'll be showing me a lot more than just a small glance like this soon enough.

"Jungkook please" she begs again as I crack the door open. 'Fuck it I can't handle this' I think to myself and take in the sight in front of me. Her silhouette alone making me dizzy. The way she pinches her erect nipples and whines as she no doubt plays with her clit making me want to worship the ground she walks on.

"Please what Bunny?" I chance, watching the guilt of me catching her and no doubt scaring her beyond belief flood her facial expressions but I press on nonetheless. "M-mr. Jeon?" she stutters, the scare making her go back to using formalities again.

She's so fucking pretty.

"Come on Darling, you know better than that. Now what were you saying? Jungkook please? Please what Bun?" I say, slowly walking towards her, going around the bed to sit on the side closest to her and she pulls the sheet up to cover herself, scared and unsure of what to do.

"What would you like me to do for you baby?" I say when I finally sit down, the bed dipping under my weight and watching as she scoots over, not to get away from me but to make room which pleases me greatly.

"Look at how cute you are. Confident enough to moan my name while I'm sleeping just a few doors down but now that you've been caught you can't even say a word. But you sounded so pretty Darling. Can you say it again for me?" I taunt, chancing a kiss under her ear and when I feel all of her muscles relax into my touch I know I've got her.

"Come on Bunny, I know you know how to use your words" I whisper, my mouth practically on her ear garnering a shiver from her in response.

"P-please Jungkook" she chokes out, almost as if she was scared of the sound of her own voice. "Please what Darling?" I say, ghosting my lips all along her neck, breathing in that intoxicating scent I know so well but drowning in the intensity of it coming directly from the source.

The things I would do to ruin her right here, right now. But I need to be patient, need to bide my time and work for her. We might be rushing things now but neither of us can stand another moment of this game we've been playing.

"Please let me cum" she whines and I could climax alone from the look she's giving me. Her pink cheeks and the way her eyes are glossing over, seconds from shedding those beautiful crystal tears has me so mesmerized by her.

"Would you like me to help you cum Princess?" I say, pushing a stray strand of hair off her face but I notice that her tears have started to fall more freely and I get worried that I've misread this situation.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can walk right out of here and we can pretend that nothing ever happened" I say, reassuring her that this is all up to her. I'm here to take care of her, only if she'll let me.

"Please help me cum" she pleads, another tear falling on her cheek. If the words that just fell from her lips weren't as dirty as they were I would've wanted to hold her and tell her everything's gonna be okay. Instead I catch that glimmering tear that's fallen and caress her cheek, gauging her reactions before doing anything else.

"Lay down for me yeah?" I say, kissing her forehead and guiding her back down, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible. 'Fuck she's gorgeous' I say to myself as I study everything there is about her.

"Can I kiss you Bunny?" I ask her and she nods her head almost instantly, her enthusiasm beyond endearing to me. I lean down but stop just shy of her lips, reminding her what she needs to do for me to continue.

"Use your words Darling" I whisper, my lips just a breath away and when she tells me 'Yes' I can just feel the desperation hidden behind that word and I can't help but smile before kissing her, this time softly, as if I were to do much more that she would break in my arms.

I fill it with longing, showing her how much I want this, want her.

Not long after I started kissing her does she start to squirm about, begging for more and I detach our lips, laughing against hers before kissing her again, taking away her chance to answer right away.

"Can I take this off?" I question, toying with the thin piece of fabric that's keeping me from her, already being able to see her hard nipples rubbing against the sheet. She nods and I get up just enough to pull it off completely, drinking in the sight of her laying bare for me.

As I take my time studying ever line and curve of her, committing it all the memory my eyes are brought to the sight of her pressing her thighs together and I can tell she's been aching to be touched like this for so long.

"You want me to touch you?" I ask, ghosting my fingers along her skin that's warm to the touch and I feel her shiver from the chill I no doubt caused her. She chokes out a 'Please' holding herself back from making too much noise and I can't help but smile at her efforts. I'm sure she knows though that that's the exact opposite of what I want from her but I let her be this time.

"Open your legs for me Princess" I say, gently guiding them apart with one hand while the other dances along her stomach, falling in love with her reaction from simple touches like this.

"Were you just using your fingers baby?" I ask, tracing along her torso and touching every inch of skin I dare to travel just yet. She nods and I can see how her chest is rising, breathing picking up no doubt from excitement and it takes everything in me to stifle back a smirk.

"Want me to use mine?" I tempt and she nods enthusiastically but I take my time. Tracing patterns on her inner thighs, I watch as she squirms until I finally run a finger through her damp folds, restraining myself from moaning at the feeling. She takes in a sharp breath at the sensation of my cold fingers playing with her and I smile at the reaction.

"Baby was all wet just thinking about me huh?" I taunt and she nods her head, being so honest with me, her eyes closed and getting lost in the feeling, a little shy though about admitting it.

"Can I ask you a question Darling?" I ask needing to know the answer, no matter how embarrassed she might be. She stutters out a 'Yes' when I start to circle my finger around her clit and I know I won't be able to get her voice out of my head.

"Did you hear me earlier today when I was in the shower?" I ask and her whole body stiffens for a second, her doe eyes wide with fright again and I let out a dry chuckle, getting all the information I need from that alone.

"I noticed that you didn't bring your bags in from your car like you normally do and when I was walking out of my room I saw that your door was open and they were already inside. Meaning that you were probably in the house before I first saw you. Isn't that right Princess?" I continue and when I push my fingers inside her her back arches and she moans out another 'Yes' lost in the feeling of being touched like this.

"Fuck, yes!" she moans out, louder than she has before and I know I've hit it just right. "You like that? You like it when I touch you like that?" I growl out. I can't stop myself, I need more of her so I quench my thirst by biting down on her collarbone, kissing and licking the skin making her arch up into me even more.

Trailing kisses down her chest I stop for a second, taking in the sight of her breast right in front of me and I glance up at her, asking for permission. "Yes Jungkook please" she groans and I push my fingers in further, dragging hard against her walls as I take one of her nipples into my mouth. Wanting to hear more from her and knowing just how to get it.

Her moans fall more freely and I can't helps but increase the pressure. "You make such pretty noises Darling" I praise, the sound of her voice a beautiful sinful melody. Switching over to the other nipple after I take my time savoring the first one, licking it one more time, smiling at the sight of leaving it puffy and wet, evidence of how much I've been dying to taste her.

I do the same with the other one as she clenches around my fingers, making me take note of another thing she likes.

"Does baby like getting praised? Do you like it when I tell you how pretty you look while you're under me?" I taunt and receive another clench in return, solidifying what I already knew and I can tell by the way her walls start to flutter around my fingers that she's already close.

She moans and mewls and babbles out the pretties sounds none of them making any more sense than the other. All I can focus on is the way she says my name over and over in the midst of the confusion and I can't wait for the day I have her screaming my name.

I watch as she loses herself, not even realizing that she's started to fuck herself on my fingers, riding them all on her own. I can't wait for her to ride me, fuck I know she would be so good at it.

As her face contorts in pleasure she begs to cum I can't help but smile, trying to figure out how the fuck I got so lucky.

"That's it Bunny, just like that" I praise, guiding her through it all and making sure she tips over that edge, writhing and moaning beneath me and as she's just about to cum undone she grabs the back of my neck and smashes her lips against mine, making me swallow her adorable little whines and and screams of pleasure.

Baby was so nervous of how loud she would be that she just decided to make me swallow all her cries. Next time though she won't be getting away with that. She'll be screaming and begging for me to make her cum and I'll watch her, watch her fall apart knowing I'm the only one that's given her this much pleasure.

I continue fucking my fingers inside of her over and over again helping her ride out her high and only stop once her cries of overstimulation start to fall from her lips.

"You did so well Princess" I say, brushing the tears off her cheek, enjoying the glazed over look in her eye. "You did so good for me" I praise again and take note of the freshly fucked state she's in as she hums happily, slowly drifting off to sleep.

I chuckle at the sight of her and stand up to get a warm damp towel to clean her up. Watching over her as she lets out cute little whimpers at the feeling.

I throw the towel in the laundry basket and leave to go open the door to the guest bedroom down the hall and turn down the blankets so I can place her right under them as soon as she hits the mattress.

I head back into her room and gently scoop her up in my arms, smiling as she cuddles into me even in her unconscious state before placing her down moments later on the cool clean sheets.

I watch as she moves around, turning on her side and snuggling into the blanket to get comfortable and my heart melts at the scene. "Goodnight Bunny" I say to her softly, placing a kiss on her forehead and leaving the room, closing the door silently behind me.

I look down at the state I'm in and take note of the full tent I have in my sweats and curse at the sight of it. I head back into my room and close the door behind me, stripping out of my clothes, knowing that I need to take a shower again.

This time cold. Very cold.

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konigsblog · 10 months ago

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I’m sorry this is a ramble but this thought plagues me and I just can’t write so . Spare me my agony here; older stalker Konig.

He sees you at work, some pretty young thing at a seedy diner or bar, barely old enough to be employed there at all. Too young to be working, you’re something he thinks should be housed away and pampered like some dumb pet, so silly of you to not settle down already. Low hanging fruit is what he takes you for, with how naive and innocent you seem; no concept of the world, of seedy men like himself with too much time and money on his hands, his red flags too visible to anyone who knows what to look for. And you poor, poor thing have no clue what he’s like, his faux charm and large tips and solid build blinding you of his true intentions.

He watches, becomes a regular, gets to know you and make small talk and leave fat tips and cheesy compliments that make you giddy and flustered despite the odd air he has about him or the way your coworkers whisper that he’s no good. Eventually his regular appearances turn into him staying til close, then offering to walk you home his possessive streak covered up by vigilant protectiveness that leaves you dizzy with his little touches to your arm or the small of your back, the nearly parental way he kisses your forehead at your door.

Little did you know he’s been planning the whole time; memorizing your work schedules, your daily schedule, the things you eat or drink, places you go on your days off, watching you through your apartment window or sneaking in when you’re out of the house to raid your dirty laundry or leave a gross surprise of his cum in your leftovers. He’s a shadow in your life, always lurking in the background of every scene no matter where you are or what you’re doing. Eventually he’s sneaking in when you’re asleep, so silent for such a behemoth of a man, so he can paw at your soft and prone form while he pants and spills into his hand like a dog in rut while you’re none-the-wiser, unaware of the way he smears his soiled hand on your skin, your cunt, your pillow or sheets.

When he finally takes things further, too determined to do anything but hoard you all to himself, he’s so sweetly condescending as he relays just how long he had planned everything, how cute and stupid you were to never realize what he had been doing all this time, the bits of himself he left around your apartment, on you, inside of you as a precursor to him claiming you fully. You’ve already consumed so much of his seed, you’ll be fine taking it from the source like a good girl Schatz, nicht? Sure his cock is big, but he knows the best ways to stretch your tight hole already, so you’ll be fine! Just stop thinking and let him have you already, he’s worked so hard for you, your the center of his world. His stupid little Liebling, pathetic and confused as she struggles against her bindings and his hands, no choices left but to plead until her voice dies and give herself over to him, because nothing could convince him to accept no as the answer.

anon, my jaw is on the floor, i absolutely adore older stalker-könig and his creepiness. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

CW: RAPE/NON-CON, AGE GAP, STALKING. 🪦🕊️

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. 18+

my brain rots at the thought of könig sliding inside for the first time, holding your wrists down beside your head as he begins rocking gently. the way he cocks his head to the side almost mocking you, taunting you for being so easy, so pliant, and so vulnerable and naïve around him. the faux sympathy and empathy leaves you longing for his sweet praise, but when you're slapped for falling for the mask he puts on, you sob harder with his slicken cock hammering against your cervix, stuffed inside that inexperienced cunt. it's as if you wanted this to happen, to be used and controlled as if you were a puppet, with your inappropriate and flirty comments after each cheesy, overly sweet compliment he gives you, unaware of his seriousness, how this was a part of his plan to reduce you to a mutt, with your purpose being to serve a man, könig.

he hides himself so well, and you take the bait, falling for the façade of a gentle, older male with sweet intentions. looking back, you can only let out pitiful and pained cries as you connect the dots and realise your stupidity, finally realising what you fell for, how stupid you must look on your back begging for him to stop when he'd given you so many hints and chances to flee, your voice becoming quiet and strained as you plead. the rough texture of his old, scarred skin over your mouth to silence you, against your soft and supple skin, your body shaking with each thrust, showing you what you're worth, what your purpose truly is.

könig shows you what reality is, getting you out of your stupid head, that's doing you no good as he continues with his violation and assault. he teaches you that life isn't fantasy, how you don't know everyone and their intentions or who they truly are, or how you'll fall for it and become a wolf's prey within seconds due to your kindness and naivety, how you never accuse anyone and hope they mean well, too naïve for your own good and assuming the best about everyone. leading you to be forced to take every inch of the man's experienced, hung cock, with your eyes glistening and horrified, and the smell of him on your bedsheets reminding you, or the cum stains along your shirts and panties.

or, perhaps the bruises and marks he leaves along your skin as a warning, or maybe as a sign of ownership - who you belong to, who owns you.

how could you be so foolish? :(

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hrizantemy · 4 months ago

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AGE IS JUST A NUMBER “A Court of Thorns and Roses”

Rhysand and Feyre: Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, is depicted as having a complex and multifaceted relationship with Feyre, particularly when it comes to their age difference and power dynamics. Feyre, a young human-turned-High Fae, is significantly younger than Rhys, who is over 500 years old. Throughout the series, Rhysand often alludes to Feyre as his “mate” before she is fully aware of the bond. This dynamic of him knowing they are bound together while Feyre is still in the dark can feel manipulative. He acknowledges that she might not be ready to accept the bond and hides the truth for a while, which places him in a position of control.

Rhysand’s language, at times, can reflect a sense of ownership, especially when he speaks about Feyre in terms of her physical capabilities and growth, emphasizing her youth and the fact that he waited for her to mature into the person she is by the time they meet. This gap between their ages and his position of power (as someone vastly older and more experienced) has led to criticisms of his role as a predatory male, especially since Feyre is relatively inexperienced in comparison.

Cassian and Nesta: Similarly, Cassian, who is a General of the Night Court and a member of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, has a relationship with Nesta that is also marked by possessiveness and a power imbalance. Cassian is over 500 years old, while Nesta is a mortal-turned-High Fae, much younger by comparison. The dynamic between them is often volatile, and Cassian’s attraction to Nesta is intensely physical and protective, almost territorial. He often speaks of their bond in ways that emphasize her needing to embrace her role as his mate, without always considering her emotional readiness.

Like Rhysand, Cassian’s tendency to refer to Nesta in terms that imply possession—sometimes even before Nesta fully acknowledges their bond—can be interpreted as predatory. The fact that he is an ancient, powerful warrior with centuries of experience, while Nesta is still navigating her newfound powers and status, reinforces the power imbalance. His way of thinking about her as someone who needs to be “claimed” or “won over” reflects a similar dynamic of an older, experienced male dictating the terms of their relationship.

In both cases, the language Rhysand and Cassian use can come across as predatory because it reflects their sense of entitlement to their mates, due to both the mating bond and their significant age and experience gaps. Their protective instincts, while framed as romantic or caring in the narrative, often border on possessiveness and control, especially when considered through the lens of age and power dynamics.

Tarquin, the High Lord of the Summer Court, is frequently described as being young and somewhat inexperienced compared to other High Lords, despite his considerable power and position. This portrayal is interesting when juxtaposed with the characters of Feyre and Nesta, who are both much younger than Tarquin in terms of both age and experience. It raises questions about the inherent contradictions in how age and maturity are framed within the series.

Tarquin as a “Child”: Tarquin, though powerful and intelligent, is often referred to as a “young” or “new” High Lord, suggesting he is somewhat naïve or less seasoned than other High Lords like Rhysand or Helion. The implication is that because he is younger (in High Fae terms), he lacks the same wisdom, experience, or political savvy as his older counterparts, which could be seen as undermining his abilities. Despite this, Tarquin is still centuries old, meaning he has lived far longer than any mortal character, including Feyre and Nesta. This labeling of Tarquin as “young” or less experienced carries a subtle infantilization, as though his youth makes him less capable, even if the story occasionally contradicts this by showing his strength as a ruler.

Nesta and Feyre’s Age in Contrast: Feyre and Nesta, on the other hand, are newly made High Fae. In the case of Feyre, she is 19-21 years old in human years, and Nesta is only a few years older. Compared to Tarquin, they are practically infants in terms of age and experience within the world of the Fae. However, they are not consistently treated with the same sense of naïveté or immaturity that Tarquin is. Instead, Feyre, and later Nesta, are thrust into positions of great power, with Feyre becoming High Lady of the Night Court and Nesta eventually wielding incredible magical abilities.

The contradiction here lies in how Tarquin, despite being vastly older, is infantilized, while Feyre and Nesta, who are truly young by any standard in the Fae world, are treated as though they possess a maturity and capability that far exceeds their actual experience. It raises the question: if Tarquin, with his centuries of life and rule, is still considered a “child” or “young,” what does that make Feyre and Nesta? By Fae standards, they are practically newborns, yet their emotional, mental, and political maturation is often portrayed as rapid and exceptional.

In A Court of Thorns and Roses, the significant age gaps between Feyre, Nesta, and their much older Fae mates—Rhysand and Cassian—are a point of contention that is often glossed over or justified within the narrative. One key instance is when Cassian mentions that Rhysand’s mother was even younger than Feyre when she mated with Rhysand’s father, using this comparison to normalize and excuse the substantial age difference between Rhys and Feyre. However, this justification doesn’t truly address the underlying issue of power imbalance and maturity that comes with such large age gaps.

The Age Gap as a Normalized Fae Custom: In the world of ACOTAR, it is common for relationships between older, more experienced Fae males and significantly younger females to be framed as normal or acceptable because of the long lifespan of the Fae. Cassian’s comment about Rhysand’s mother being younger than Feyre attempts to suggest that this is simply the way things are in Fae culture. However, just because something is culturally accepted does not mean it’s free from problematic implications. This justification sweeps aside the more nuanced concerns about maturity, autonomy, and power dynamics that exist when one partner has lived for centuries and the other has just recently come into adulthood.

When Cassian uses this argument, it’s meant to reassure Rhysand and the reader that her relationship with Rhysand is not unusual or unhealthy, but it does nothing to mitigate the significant experience gap between them. Rhysand, who has lived for over 500 years, has amassed a wealth of knowledge, political savvy, and power, while Feyre, at the beginning of their relationship, is a mortal teenager barely into her twenties. The comparison to Rhysand’s mother only reinforces a cycle where younger females are matched with much older, more dominant males, suggesting that this is not only normal but expected within Fae society.

Minimizing the Power Imbalance: By bringing up the fact that Rhysand’s mother was younger than Feyre, Cassian attempts to neutralize the discomfort of the age gap by pointing to precedent. However, this precedent doesn’t erase the inherent power imbalance in these relationships. Rhysand, with centuries of experience, wields immense influence over Feyre, even if he’s portrayed as respectful and supportive. He understands the world in ways that Feyre cannot, simply because she hasn’t lived long enough to gain the same knowledge. The justification of “Fae culture” minimizes the emotional and psychological differences that exist between someone like Feyre, who has barely reached adulthood, and someone like Rhysand, who has seen centuries of war, love, and loss.

The same applies to Nesta and Cassian’s relationship. Cassian is also over 500 years old, a hardened warrior who has fought in countless battles, while Nesta is in her twenties and still struggling with her own trauma and identity. Even if Cassian views her as his equal in power and strength, there is an undeniable gap in life experience that the story often glosses over by emphasizing their “fated” bond as mates.

The Problem with Fated Bonds: The concept of mating bonds in the ACOTAR series is frequently used to justify these relationships, making the argument that destiny has paired these characters, and therefore the age difference doesn’t matter. However, the idea that a bond preordains a relationship can feel like it removes agency from the younger, less experienced partner. Feyre and Nesta may love Rhysand and Cassian, but their relationships were essentially determined by forces outside of their control—forces they might not fully understand due to their youth and inexperience. The age gap becomes part of the broader issue of predestination versus choice in these romantic pairings, where the younger characters are thrust into life-altering relationships with partners who have lived for centuries longer than they have.

Cassian’s Comment Doesn’t Make It Okay: Ultimately, Cassian’s comment about Rhysand’s mother being younger than Feyre when she mated with Rhysand’s father does not justify the inherent issues that come with such vast age differences. It does not make it “okay” because it doesn’t address the underlying dynamics of power and control that exist when one partner is so much older and more experienced than the other. The narrative often frames these relationships as romantic and passionate, but the casual way the age gap is dismissed overlooks the real issues of emotional maturity and autonomy.

By relying on cultural precedent or biological destiny (the mating bond) to justify these relationships, the series sidesteps the more difficult questions about whether Feyre and Nesta, as young women, truly have equal footing in relationships with centuries-old, battle-hardened Fae males. The idea that “it’s always been this way” does not make the age disparity any less problematic, and in many ways, it feels like a narrative shortcut to avoid confronting the more uncomfortable realities of these relationships.

#anti acosf #anti acotar #anti feysand #anti inner circle #anti rhysand #nesta archeron deserves better #pro nesta #anti amren #anti azriel #anti cassian

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jomiddlemarch · 1 month ago

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And loved me for what might or might not be –

“Let me make you a cup of tea,” Rupert said. It sounded entirely implausible, Rupert standing in what must be his drawing room, in clothes so perfectly tailored to his body they looked as if they’d never been ironed or even laundered, making such an ordinary offer. Though to be fair, he’d enunciated every syllable in his posh accent, nothing like the way Da talked about making a cuppa for Mam, a cigarette dangling from his lip.

If it hadn’t been for the spaniels sleeping in front of the marble fireplace and the terrier whining for him to pet it, she’d never have believed it possible.

“Do you even know how to make a proper cup of tea?” she said.

“I ought to be offended by that, angel, but I have a fair idea of the impression I make,” he replied, his lips curving in a smile. “I’m not as helpless as you might imagine in a kitchen.”

“You underestimate my imagination,” Taggie said tartly, partly to surprise him and partly to distract herself from the vision his words had conjured, Rupert shagging a woman senseless on a well-scrubbed refectory table, Rupert coming up behind a woman washing dishes and bending her over to take her, Rupert’s hand, wet with soapsuds, cupping a woman’s breast through her apron bib. A woman, but really, it was always herself, Taggie being ravished, lavished with his attention, her name on his lips that’s right, Taggie darling, let me have a taste, so good, angel. He called her angel because he didn’t know better just how filthy her dreams were. Hade become since she’d met him.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said.

“I suppose you might try,” she said. “If it’s horrible, I’ll make a fresh pot.”

“We’ll hope it won’t come to that,” he said. “It’s through the hall and down a flight of stairs—”

“You’re going to make me a cuppa in the kitchen?” she said.

“You’d rather I brought it to you here on a tray, with the teapot in a knitted cozy, and a plate of ginger biscuits?” he said. She might have thought he was mocking her, except for the undeniable earnest uncertainty in his tone. It was a rare feeling, being the object of his affection and not his lust, and young as she was, she knew it, the way she knew he’d make the tea too weak, too eager to pour it out. He’d use a Sevres tea-set as casually as she’d handle the random crockery that came with the Priory.

“I’d be happier in the kitchen. And if there’s any shortbread, I like that better than ginger biscuits. Unless you have custard creams,” she said.

“You’ve got a sweet tooth,” he said.

“My mother doesn’t like to keep a lot of sweets in the house. She fusses about her figure,” Taggie said.

“I don’t know if there’s anything but the ginger biscuits. Those are my favorite and I don’t often have people round to tea,” he said, walking from the room, taking her hand in his very lightly, so that she might have pulled away without any real effort, a tentative gesture that was more erotic than if he’d palmed her ass.

“Lizzie would come, wouldn’t she?”

Rupert shrugged, which wasn’t much of an answer, but Taggie didn’t especially want to talk about Lizzie, how old a friend she was. She didn’t want to remind either of them how much older Rupert was, how young she must seem, naïve and inexperienced before you took into account how little she’d read and why.

They’d got to the kitchen, a brighter, sunnier space than the one at the Priory, altogether more orderly, as he must have staff in to cook and clean up, but the terrier settled down at once in a basket near the oak table’s end and she wondered just how much time Rupert spent here. He waved a hand for her to sit down, so she chose the chair closest to the Aga, the one it would be easiest to leave to help with the kettle.

Except it didn’t seem he actually needed any help. Taggie sat and watched him move around the kitchen, graceful even in the smallest ways, picking up a milk jug, setting a cup in its saucer, taking the lid off a canister that held loose tea. He had finely made hands, the whole of him elegantly put together, a recollection of him naked in the garden popping up unbidden, making her blush. He noticed, but he didn’t say anything.

Was she the only person who knew how tender Rupert Campbell-Black could be?

If she was, did she want that to change?

“Milk, one sugar,” he said, putting down a steaming gilt-edged teacup in front of her. “I think you like honey better but I couldn’t find any. I’ll tell Cook to buy some.”

“You know how I like my tea,” she said, thinking it would be a question before she heard herself speak.

“I can pay attention when it’s warranted,” he said.

“When it’s warranted?” she repeated, taking a sip of the tea. It was the perfect temperature, almost too hot to drink, and she could hardly remember the last time she’d had a cup of tea made so exactly to her taste, not a little too strong from being the end of the pot, a little too cool for waiting until everyone else had been served.

“When I care. You’re more like your father than I’d thought,” he said, frowning a little. It only made him more handsome. “You ask questions like a journalist.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she asked.

He laughed, a warm chuckle that she imagined only Lizzie had heard before. Maybe Cook, who bought him ginger biscuits and not custard creams.

“You’re adorable, Taggie O’Hara,” he said.

“That’s not the same as saying you adore me,” she pointed out, drinking more tea. When she put the cup back in the saucer, he took hold of her right hand, stroking his thumb across her palm.

“I don’t adore you, angel. That requires a pedestal for you to stand on and I’d much rather have you squash up next to me on the sofa,” he said.

“That sounds very domestic,” Taggie said. He’d like to have the dogs about, he hadn’t said it but he’d conjured them up with the slightly sagging sofa, the fire merry behind its screen, a half-drunk glass of Scotch on a marquetry table, the ice melting slowly into the golden liquor.

“It wouldn’t stay that way,” he said. He must have made a thousand passes at a thousand women or maybe a million, but it didn’t feel like one with his brown eyes watching her so attentively, appetite balanced by affection, the touch of his hand cherishing, not possessing.

“Good,” she replied. “D’you know what I’d like?”

Another woman, well-read, cultured, in a matching set of lace underwear, would have meant it as coquetry. That was beyond Taggie and she’d have to hope he wouldn’t be disappointed.

“What’s that, angel?”

“Scones. Cook must keep the ingredients at hand. They don’t take long to make,” she said. She didn’t say they were her specialty, but perhaps he’d be able to tell.

“Would you teach me how?” Rupert asked.

“Yes, but why?” she said.

“So I might make the next batch for you,” he said.

#rivals 2024 #rupert x taggie #taggie o'hara #rupert campbell black #romance #fluff #domestic #literally #cup of tea #acts of service #age-gap #Rupert is at his most appealing when he is taking care of Taggie #the consummate caregiver #comfort no hurt

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from-memphis-with-love · 10 months ago

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1849 - an Elvis Presley One-Shot

Summary: It's 1849 and the height of the Oregon Trail. Pearl, an innocent and inexperienced young woman, is plucked from the prairie and into a marriage with rough and tumble rancher Elvis Presley. She's practically paralyzed with fear on her wedding night. But all is not what it seems: he is actually loving and kind with her, and, with a little gentle coaxing, she soon comes to find out the true meaning of what her husband affectionately calls his "manly duties."

Beneath a velvet sky embroidered with stars, the sweeping prairie of the Willamette Valley undulated endlessly, its breezy grasses frosted silver in the gentle moonlight, swaying like the swells of a wheat-colored sea. The air, redolent with sagebrush and wildflower nectar, whispered tales yet untold.

A weathered log cabin, sturdy as an old oak, nestled harmoniously amid the untamed expanse. Inside, flickering candlelight danced upon the rough-hewn walls, casting writhing shadows that capered about. This humble abode was far more than a shelter; it housed two hearts newly joined in matrimony's sacred covenant.

Upon a mattress of timber and homespun linens lay the newlyweds. The sounds of crickets and distant animals floated on the night air, a natural lullaby straight from the land itself. They reveled in the hushed serenity of their nascent life together.

A stillness Pearl finally punctured with a question.

"Elvis?" she pouted, her reedy voice not fully her own. "You've stolen the blanket." Mistaking her complaint for invitation, Elvis sidled closer, his sturdy frame a barrier against the cool night air. He slipped his hand atop her opposite side, ensconcing her between his bare chest and muscular arm. "Might I perhaps have them back, please?"

He nuzzled nearer, his tone playful. "Chilly? Lemme warm you up, then."

Now, with mere inches between them, his radiant skin-heat seemed to flow directly into her own, quickening her heartbeat. She swallowed, her voice quavering slightly. "Do you... have a nightshirt, perhaps?"

"A night-what?" His confusion, genuine or feigned, hung in the air between them, charged with the unspoken energy of their touch.

Pearl closed her eyes, seeking refuge in inky darkness, away from the maelstrom roiling within. She wished to be anywhere but perched on the precipice of her wedding night, an apprehensive innocent bound to a man whose depths were only just beginning to unfurl before her.

Her thoughts meandered to distant places: endless prairies beneath boundless skies, their splendor unfettered and raw. She pictured the wind's caress, laden with wildflower perfume, conveying whispers of age-old tales. How she yearned for freedom, to roam unconstrained by society's fetters!

Her heart ached for the unknown, the thrill of novel faces and locales. Perhaps in a bustling metropolis, pulsating with a mosaic of sounds, she could vanish into the crowd, shedding her naïve bride skin. Or on a lonely mountain peak, inhaling the crisp air, losing herself in nature's majesty, finding peace in its seclusion.

No, she banished the thought, Elvis Presley never feels fear, and I'm a fool to think otherwise.

Somehow, this realization lent her the strength to open her eyes, letting curiosity temper her fears. Yet, the echoes of a strict upbringing whispered doubts, and she might feel more at ease about it all if Elvis kept some of his clothes on—at least for the night. She broached the subject of modesty. “A nightshirt. If you have one in that chest over there, I’d appreciate you wearing it,” she ventured.

Unlike Pearl, Elvis had no such compunctions about their intimacy, nor was he concerned with modesty. His hands, calloused from the laborious toil of ranch work, possessed an innate understanding of the contours that ignited pleasure. His lips held secrets of countless stolen kisses and whispered promises. He cocked a sly smile at her request.

“Honey, you know I don’t own no nightshirt. The closest I come is wearing my long johns in the winter, and now that I got you to keep me warm, I reckon I won’t wear ‘em anymore.”

“Then what, pray tell, shall you wear?”

In one smooth motion, Elvis lifted her until she sat upright before him, noticing with some relief that his trousers remained in place. Strong fingers carded through her hair, treating the auburn strands as delicately as silk.

"Y’know, the first time I laid eyes on you, you know I imagined you wearin’ nothin’ but your beautiful hair?”

Pearl froze, stunned by the vulnerability his words implied. To be so exposed, with only her hair for modesty, sparked an instinctual alarm...yet also fascination. Like a deer in a rife’s sight, she wrestled with the storm of fear and curiosity Elvis's revelation provoked.

Firelight danced in his eyes, flecks of gold glittering in that captivating blue. With care, Elvis gathered her hair over her breasts. Though clothed, Pearl shivered at the suggestive act, a blush creeping up her neck.

"Just like that," he murmured admiringly. "Sweet little rosebuds begging to be kissed. Peekin’ out to me and all."

Sitting there, Pearl felt Elvis's gaze wash over her like sunlight piercing through fog. His words stirred something deep within, blossoming warmth that spread from her cheeks down through her chest. But it didn't stop there. A swirling eddy gripped her belly, intensifying into a molten pull that sunk her deeper into this newfound swell of feeling. No one had told her a wedding night could feel like this.

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing away the betrayal of her body's response.

Noticing her blush, Elvis leaned back, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Seems I might be pushing my luck tonight," he mused, his mouth settling into a bashful grin. He caressed her cheek, his calloused thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin. “My God, you are so lovely.” Though his touch was gentle, she tensed. "Little Pearly, are you really that nervous?"

Pearl's heart raced, her cheeks burning with a mix of fear and longing as she took in the sight of Elvis's bare chest. The raw exposure of his skin, the dance of muscles beneath, stirred a whirlwind of emotions—curiosity, vulnerability. Fear. An evil desire she wouldn’t dare name. The way he looked stirred a terrible hunger deep within, and she couldn’t help but long for a barrier between them, a shield to temper the intensity of their connection.

With a voice touched by nerves, she mustered the courage to voice her yearning. "I would probably feel better if you put on a shirt," she ventured softly, unaware of the intoxicating effect her request had on Elvis, who looked back at her with a mix of amusement and reverence. "Are you sure you don't have one, Elvis?"

"I can do it with a shirt on, but I reckon I’ll have to take my trousers off sooner or later," he quipped, then caught himself, noting the joke wasn’t helping. "Is there anything else troubling you, darlin'?"

Pearl straightened, clearing her throat. "I’d really appreciate it if you just get on with it, please. I want to get this over with. We can talk afterward, alright?"

Elvis's smile faded, his thumb stilling on her cheek. "Ah, honey, I’m so sorry. I need a good whuppin’, that’s what I need," he said, nudging his nose against hers playfully. He twirled one of her curls around his finger, breathing in her scent. "I’m just a big ole oaf, is what I am. Here I am jokin’ my head off and you’re as nervous as a fawn. I should be making you feel good instead. Makin’ you forget what it is you’re so scared about.”

Pearl’s eyes crossed trying to peer into his, so she let them flutter closed.

Cupping her face in his rough palms, Elvis lifted his forehead from hers, leaving a ghost of warmth behind. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the tip of her nose. Pearl's heart fluttered at the gentle gesture, her grip tightening on his broad wrists as he guided her back onto the bed. Sinking into the mattress, she felt a mix of trepidation and trust as Elvis settled above her, forearms bracketing her shoulders.

“My wife,” he whispered, chest grazing her breasts as he bent close. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart,” he murmured, full lips barely brushing hers in a whisper-soft caress. “I’ll make it real nice for you. Pearl, I will never intentionally hurt you. I swear it.”

“Elvis...” She parted her lips to speak, but his mouth stole the words. His breath was warm and sweet with a hint of black coffee as she sucked it in. Soft lips trailed over the contours of her mouth, leaving desire in their wake. But when his probing tongue intruded, Pearl recoiled in shock and apprehension, questioning the unfamiliar invasion.

Pearl's world narrowed to the feel of his lips. They ignited longings within her, each touch kindling dormant desires.

Her racing heart stumbled over itself as his tongue gently challenged her limited experience. Fingers digging into his arms, climbing to the solid assurance of his shoulders, she wondered, silently pleading, What's happening to me?

Desire, raw and unbidden, surged within her. Yet a shadow of doubt whispered too, questioning her boldness. Still, as they kissed, warmth bloomed inside her, promising pleasure, promising connection. Though separated by her thin nightgown, his touch blazed lines of fire over her skin, pulling her into a dance between longing and hesitation.

For the first time, Pearl reveled in the forbidden delight of passionate kisses, a realm unknown to her sheltered life. The caress of his mouth on hers was a dance, each movement stirring longing she hadn't known existed. Every press and yielding response painted a portrait of contradictions—firm yet molten, unyielding yet accommodating. She prayed they would do this part of it frequently, whatever came next.

Catching her lower lip, he rolled it tenderly beneath his tongue, gently nibbling. Oh yes, she adored kissing. Their kisses grew bolder, back and forth, until his chest pressed firmly against hers. Her pounding heartbeat drowned out the owl's hoot outside. Arching against him, she dug her nails into his shoulders, overwhelmed by urgent, indescribable desire. She pressed into his rippling heat with greater intensity, seeking solace in his muscular frame.

Again, he delicately caught her lower lip between his teeth, rolling it tenderly beneath his tongue and gently nibbling on it.

Oh, yes.

She adored kissing him. Their kisses escalated until she was deaf to everything but her pounding heart. Arching into him, nails digging into his shoulders, she was overwhelmed with desire, seeking solace in his heat.

He relinquished his hold on her hair, breaking the kiss to embark on a tantalizing exploration of her face. His lips traced a path along her cheek, leaving a trail of teasing nips and touches that sent delightful shivers coursing through her body. With deliberate intent, he traveled upward, caressing her temple before retracing his path down to her eyelids.

Oh, what sensations!

His mouth against her sensitive skin was pure ecstasy. Venturing to her ear, his breath resonated as he nibbled her earlobe, flicking his tongue along the tender hollow beneath. A soft moan escaped her. Descending to her neck, his kisses made her tremble, breath hitching. She adored his skillful, desiring mouth. His presence enveloped her, intensifying the longing within, and she felt a curious pooling in her lap that startled her. Their hips pressed together, moving slowly, heightening the achingly sweet yearning in her veins. Lost in the moment, she faintly registered his trembling hands worrying the buttons of her gown, finally easing the fabric open. A gentle breeze brushed her bare breasts, sending delicious shivers down her spine - an unfamiliar yet delightful sensation.

A faint whisper of caution echoed in Pearl's mind, a remnant of scriptures urging caution against such intoxicating desire. Yet the allure was too powerful to resist. She surrendered to cascading waves of pleasure, losing herself in the intensity of their connection, exploring the passion dormant within her. The world fell away. All that mattered was the electric current drawing them closer in a dance of yearning and surrender.

"Good Lord," he rasped, voice thick with desire. "I can’t even breathe, I want you so bad.”

His scorching tongue blazed a path over her taut, yearning nipple. A jolting shock seized her, stealing her breath, causing her heart to falter. His mouth enveloped her with fervent intensity, sensations reverberating to her toes. Wide-eyed, she glanced down to see his flawless face nestled against her breast. Gradually he retreated, teasingly tugging her nipple, teeth capturing the pulsating bud before releasing, only to repeat the exquisite torment.

Shock rippled through her, leaving her gasping in disbelief. Yet he drew her back into his mouth, swallowing her essence with unyielding passion. Panic gripped her and she screamed, pushing against him with all her might, cries echoing. What is happening? What unspeakable act is this? Oh mercy!

She felt betrayed. His audacious promises were deceitful lies! He personified sinful, impure yearning. This pleasure was too good to be true.

As Pearl's piercing screams reverberated through the air, the sound struck Elvis like a lightning bolt, jolting him from his haze. Fear and concern etched his face as he sprang up, heart pounding. Reaching out with trembling hands, he gripped her shoulders urgently, as if to anchor them both.

"Darlin', what's the matter? Did I hurt you?"

She screamed again, scrambling away and hastily closing her gown with trembling hands, desperately trying to conceal herself - a raw, vulnerable moment, reminding them both of past wounds.

"Leave me be! Don't you lay a hand on me! You deceived me, you lied!" she cried, anguished.

In the corner, Get Lo, the loyal hound, rose with a mournful howl as footsteps and voices neared the cabin. Fists pounded the sturdy door, causing it to tremble.

"Boss!" Red's voice echoed. "Hey, boss!" More commotion. "Stand back! I'll kick it down if I have to!"

"No!" Elvis shouted. "It's alright, Red! Don't break down the door!"

"Show yourself then, damn it! How do I know someone ain't holdin' a gun on ya?"

"God damnit, I'll be right there!" Elvis shot an anxious look at his bride, now wedged into the corner between the headboard and wall. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. One second and I’ll be right back, alright?"

But she appeared more inclined to a tooth extraction than entertaining that idea. Elvis muttered an oath and went to the door, lifting the bolt and cracking it open to let Red glimpse him in the flickering candlelight. "We're alright. Weren’t nothing, Red. Just a misunderstanding, is all."

Red's eyes blazed with desert-sun intensity. "A misunderstanding? She nearly shook the soul out of me, Elvis!" His voice held the edge of a man ready to face a nest of rattlers. "A misunderstanding?"

Elvis bowed his head, a shadow of remorse etching across his face. "I’m sorry, Red. This is my doing, not hers."

Red shot a knowing look and without a word, Elvis eased the door closed, his hand lingering on the bolt before it fell into place with a gentle thud. He turned slowly, his gaze drawn to the bed.

Pearl clung to a pillow, her eyes wide pools of darkness against her pale face. Fear and disbelief swirled within those inky depths.

"You lied!" Her shrill cry pierced the heavy air.

Brows furrowed, Elvis sank onto the mattress. "Sweetheart, I swear I didn't deceive you. Please, tell me what I did wrong."

She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her shoulders with trembling hands. "You lied! You gave me your word!" Her voice broke on the accusation.

Elvis leaned forward, elbows on knees, straining to read her face in the dim firelight. Though just minutes ago passion had flowed between them, now she recoiled from his touch. Her chin jutted out defiantly. "Why did you lie?"

Steady but tinged with desperation, his voice cut through the tense silence. "What lie?" His eyes searched hers for any glimmer of understanding. He fought to remain calm amidst the storm raging within the room. "Sweetheart, please, tell me what you believe I lied about."

Her lips twisted in bitter disbelief. "Don't play dumb. You said you conducted yourself righteously, like the brethren." She spat out a harsh laugh. "None of them would ever behave as you did. You lied, plain and simple. And I was foolish enough to believe it."

Elvis ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, frustration creeping into his voice. "I did not lie."

"You most certainly did!" she shrieked, the words piercing the air. "You claimed to be free of impious inclinations!"

Elvis replayed his actions in his mind, struggling to pinpoint his misstep. He could only surmise he had unintentionally caused her harm. "Did I hurt your breasts when I kissed them? I didn't mean to come on too strong."

She let out a scream, shielding her face with her hands. "Do not speak such vulgar words! I am not married to you! Do you hear me? I am not!"

"Pearl, you’re not talkin’ sense. People don’t marry and unmarry over a misunderstanding. They engage in con-ver-sa-tion," he implored, sounding out the word slowly. “We need to talk this through.”

"Well, I did not enter into a marriage. I was deceived!"

Elvis sighed, running his fingers through his hair again. "Deceived, married...we have to talk. Please, tell me what I've done."

She persisted in hiding her face behind trembling fingers, oblivious to her gaping gown and the exposed breast it revealed. The nipple he had showered with affection remained erect, illuminated by the flickering fire. It seemed to beckon for more—a request he would gladly oblige if only she were more receptive.

"You know perfectly well why I'm upset," she accused, voice muffled.

"No, I truly do not," he confessed. Shifting to all fours, he moved closer, examining her tender nipple. Pink and raw, it stood erect, pulsating with her quickened heartbeat. He was too rough, he concluded with regret.

Grasping her knees, he gently unfolded her legs before straddling her thighs. Palms planted on either side, he focused on her quivering hands. "Pearl, please lower your hands and look at me."

"No!"

"I promise I won't do it again. Alright? I'm truly sorry. From now on, you hold the reins. Whatever pleases you is exactly how I'll do things, I swear. You just have to tell me what feels nice and what doesn't."

"Well, that certainly wasn't nice!"

"Then, you guide me on how you want it, and I'll follow your lead."

Pearl jerked away, a sob catching in her throat. Swirling emotions tightened her chest. "How can I trust you're not lying?"

Elvis sighed, the sound resonating deep within his broad chest. "Have I ever lied to you?"

The faint scent of leather and tobacco enveloped her as he leaned closer. She inhaled sharply. "Yes."

He raked a hand through his dark locks. "Sweetheart, let me show you the truth."

His warm breath grazed her ear, evoking memories of his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. Goosebumps prickled her arms. "Was it nice at first?" His deep timbre reverberated through her.

"Yes."

"Well then, we'll only do what feels nice. I promise." His voice was like rich honey, urging her to taste its sweetness.

She peered at him through splayed fingers. "Do you swear it?"

His eyes smoldered like blue flames. "Honey, I don't just swear it. I'll prove it to you."

His head dipped lower, warm lips finding her breast. She jerked back with a shriek, her elbow catching his ear.

Elvis recoiled, clutching his head. "Damn it, Pearl Marie! Now I know I didn't hurt you that time!"

“Scoundrel!” Shame flooded her cheeks. She scrambled to escape, but her nightgown snagged beneath his knees. Strong hands grasped her shoulders. She balled her fists. "Don't touch me! If you do, I won't be responsible. I'll fight like you taught me and I’ll break your nose this time!"

"Why are you fighting me?" Hurt and frustration etched his rugged features.

She trembled, anger and confusion swirling within. "Why? You do a thing like that and you ask me why? You lied! You promised to do things proper, but you didn't!"

"A thing like what?" Elvis began to grasp the situation, though he struggled to believe he had it right. "Kissing your breast, you mean?"

She covered her face again, trembling. "Stop saying things like that!"

"Like what? Breast? Nipples? Titties? Yer cans?" he started to laugh. She made a keening sound. Get Lo joined in, throwing back his head and emitting a playful bark.

"Shut up!" Elvis yelled, his frustration mounting. Get Lo continued to howl, but Pearl jumped in surprise and began holding her breath. "Not you, honey." Elvis shot a fierce glare at the howling hound. "Get Lo! I don't need you interfering none!" The hound fell silent and grumbled.

Elvis figured he had his answer regarding the matter of the breast. He rubbed his face wearily and blinked. "Pearl, do you believe that kissing you there is ungodly?"

She removed her hands from her face, gaping at him in astonishment. "Of course it is! You promised to do things the regular way, and you lied!"

Realization washed over him. So that’s what this was about. “Well, what is the regular way, Pearl Marie? I guess maybe I ain’t real clear on that.”

The fire’s amber glow illuminated her face, but darkness still shrouded her eyes. She perched on the edge of the roughhewn log bed, hands folded primly in her lap.

"You're just supposed to do your... thing!" she insisted, biting her lower lip.

Elvis cocked his head, his brow furrowing. "My thing? What exactly is my thing?"

She shrank back against the headboard. "Just... you know. And nothing else!" Her words came out in a nervous rush.

Elvis sank back on his heels, disbelief etched on his face. "Is that what your mother told you? Honey, I think there's been a misunderstanding here."

"No, there hasn't!" She sat up straight, her voice sharp. "She spelled it out plain and clear!"

Elvis's mind raced, recalling the tales he'd heard about the strict sects with their restrictive ways. The kinds of places that squeezed the lifeblood out of a man. His gaze drifted to the plain black dresses and gray undergarments piled against the wall. A hollow feeling settled in his gut.

"Pearl Marie, are you saying the men in your church never touch a woman? They just...do it and leave it at that?"

She turned her face away, her chin quivering. "Yes. And Ma said I should just lie there and meditate, ignore the... goings-on while it happened."

A laugh burst from Elvis's lips before he could stop it. Hazel eyes flashed accusingly at him and he threw up his hands. "Honey, I ain't laughing at you. I swear it." He struggled to compose himself, leaning back against the sturdy log footboard. Maybe he should change the subject, but he couldn't help it. Laughter shook his body until he had to clutch his stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I ain't making fun, truly," he managed between fits. "Just had a funny thought is all."

He wiped his eyes, regaining a shred of control until he pictured himself in a black suit and hat, dutifully making sterile love. That image shattered his restraint. He laughed again until his sides ached, finally going limp against the footboard.

"Well, damn," he muttered, wondering what had set him off in the first place. Wasn't funny at all. The woman he loved wanted to recite psalms while he moved inside her. Heaven forbid he disrupt her concentration.

"Are you finished?" she asked crisply, buttoning her dress up to her throat once more.

Elvis looked up at her. "Reckon I am."

"Then let me take this opportunity to inform you that I don't believe we are compatible. Our marriage would be a disaster unless you abandon your sinful desires."

He sat up and met her gaze directly. "That just ain’t gonna happen. Ain’t nothin’ sinful about a man makin’ his woman feel good.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, dropping her eyes. Longing pierced his chest, for he did love her. But he wouldn't surrender his principles to appease her church's notions of marital duties. There was nothing unholy about wanting to worship every inch of her. If she believed otherwise, well, she was just as confused as the rest of them. He knew she'd be happier once he showed her the truth.

"Remember when I said we're coming at this from different angles?" he began gently. "That it might take some time to find middle ground?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Well, I was righter’n I thought." He gave her a tender look. "But that don't mean we ain't meant for each other. Just means we gotta compromise, both of us."

"I won't compromise my beliefs."

"Honey, I ain’t concerned with your beliefs. It's your body I got my sights set on," he said, throwing her an innocent look, although looking harmless wasn't one of his natural talents. "We can work this out."

"How? I won't permit the things you did earlier. I won't!"

“Well, tell me something you will allow, and we’ll take it from there.” He leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees. With effort, he kept his mind off the image of himself in a suit. "What do the church men do exactly?"

She looked down at him from the side of the bed. "My mother told me that on my wedding night and every night thereafter, I should lie still on my back. She told me that my husband would come to me at night and join me in the darkness under the quilts. He would lift my gown to my hips and fulfill his manly duty swiftly. And there wasn’t much more to it than that," she gulped, her voice trembling. "And if I wished, I think of something else like prayer or meditation until he finished."

Elvis suppressed a chuckle. One stray laugh and she'd never forgive him. Instead he stroked his chin, hiding his smile.

"Well, now, you see? We already got half of it licked. At least now I know what I can and can’t do," he said.

Wary hazel eyes searched his face. He realized he'd shaken her world more than he’d thought. It was no laughing matter.

"So you might be willing to compromise?" Hope tinged her voice.

"Well, now..." Elvis considered swiftly."Is kissing like we did before allowed?"

"Yes," she answered.

He stroked his chin. "Let's see if I got this right. From your collarbone down to your hips, that area's off limits."

"Correct," she nodded.

"But from your hipbones down, that's free territory?"

"Correct," she confirmed.

"And in the area that’s mine, is there any rules?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

She appeared bewildered. "Rules?"

"Your ma told you their rules. So what do the church men do when they fulfill their duty? Tell me plain so I'm clear."

She shook her head. "She didn't say. They just... do it." She waved her hand dismissively.

Bingo.

"So, there ain’t no rules how I do my manly business."

"Not that I know of. That’s your business. A wife does not concern herself with such matters," she responded.

Elvis raised an eyebrow. "So, I can do my business as I please?"

She hesitated, sensing a trap but unable to grasp it. In her innocence, she couldn't fathom his motive. Guilt pricked Elvis, but experience had taught him that sometimes conscience was a man's worst enemy.

"I suppose you can," she finally answered. "It’s your business, after all."

"And you ain’t gonna protest? ‘Cept if I hurt you which I’ll try my damnest not to do." he asked. "Do I have your word? You just gonna think about scripture and let me do my thing? Let me conduct my manly duties as I see fit?”

She blinked at him warily. "You swear you won't engage in vulgar acts above my hips?"

"Honey, not unless you ask," he assured her.

"Why would I ever ask such a thing?" Incredulity filled her voice.

"Just leaving it on the table is all. Do I have your word?"

"Yes, you have my word," she replied.

Elvis suppressed a grin. "One more thing. How much time do I get?"

She gaped at him, eyes wide. "Well, I don't know. How long does it take?"

"Well, that's the thing. Sometimes longer than others. Can I have all the time I need?" he proposed.

"I... suppose so," she hesitated.

Elvis raised his hands. "Well, there you go. A com-pro-mise, just like you said. You promise you’re okay with this?"

She eyed the rumpled quilts where she had lain just moments before. A crease formed between her brows. Reluctantly, she nodded, though her pursed lips revealed lingering doubts.

"I promise," she replied, sounding skeptical. "On the condition that you swear to be content with the brethren's way of conducting ourselves, forever."

Elvis lifted his right hand. "I swear on my mama's grave, I won't lay a hand or lip on you from hips to collar—'less you ask me to."

“Shall I lie back down then?”

“I reckon.”

With a resigned sigh, she slid back onto the feather mattress. Stiff as a plank, she squeezed her eyes shut and folded her hands over her chest, bracing herself. In a small voice she called out, "Elvis?"

“Yes, darlin’?”

"Don't forget the quilts."

In response, Elvis reached behind, his fingers brushing against the rough woven quilts. Gripping the edges, he rose to his knees and gently peeled back the layers of fabric.

"Covered up to your chin?" he asked, his voice a tender whisper.

She nestled into the quilts' warmth, squeezing her eyes shut as if blocking out the world around her. "Please."

Elvis tugged the quilts up to her chin and slipped underneath beside her. "I can lay my arm over you, can't I? I've done it a million times already," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her cheek.

"Yes. That should be fine.”

With a feather-light touch, Elvis curved his hand around her waist, fingertips pressing into her soft flesh as he drew her closer. "Come here, sweetheart. You're still scared." Propping himself up on his elbow, he gazed down at her closed eyes, placing gentle kisses on each delicate eyelid. "I'm sorry for how I acted before, for shocking you. You know I would never do it on purpose."

She turned her cheek toward his lips, savoring their tender brush against her skin. "And... I'm sorry for hurting your ear. Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," he reassured, his voice low and soothing.

Elvis started to tenderly brush her hair away from her face, tucking back silken strands behind her ear. "You’re so beautiful it breaks my heart. Have I ever told you that?"

She lifted her lashes, a smile gracing her lips. "Oh, Elvis." She embraced his neck tightly, inhaling his familiar scent. "I apologize for all the cruel things I said."

He held her close, pressing his face against her hair that smelled of waterlilies, feeling as though he possessed all the world's riches in his arms. "It ain’t nothing, I know you didn’t mean it." She pressed her body closer to his, molding her curves against his hard contours. He couldn't help but smile, a spark of desire igniting within.

Kissing.

Pearl's lips melded with his, sparking an electric current that coursed through every nerve. The celestial stars themselves seemed to pale in comparison to the heavenly sensation surging within her. She yearned for more, quivering in anticipation of his touch. He claimed her mouth once again, exceeding her loftiest expectations. With torturous slowness, he traced her lips, exploring their delicate curves and coaxing soft sighs from her throat. As their bodies pressed together, his chest grazing hers sent delicious shivers dancing across her skin. She dismissed the friction as accidental, though an aching need stirred within her.

Each kiss scattered her thoughts, shattering her inhibitions. Clinging to him fiercely, she sought to draw him closer still, desperate to merge their souls. Her nails dug crescents into his shoulders, stinging pain he appeared oblivious to. His lips blazed a trail down her neck, igniting an inferno beneath her skin.

"Oh, Elvis..." she breathed, the words trailing off as emotion choked her voice.

“What, darlin’? Am I wanderin’ too close to your collar?”

Sensing the question hanging in the air, tears pricked her eyes. With a single word, she could end this exquisite torture. His taut muscles revealed his readiness to comply. Yet the thought of halting him brought inexplicable sorrow. Her fingertips glided over his shoulders, feeling the power coiled within him—power that belonged to her.

She recalled his sudden embrace the night before, his body pressing down, dominating yet tender. He could have taken anything, but treated her like fragile glass. Always in control, yet somehow still hers to command.

Last night, when she'd elbowed him in the ear, he'd instinctively withdrawn, putting needed space between them. The irony was not lost on her; she had become a threat to him. But it was his tenderness that stirred her emotions, now bringing tears to her eyes. She was deeply moved by his unwavering care and protective nature. Oh, how she adored him, her heart overflowing with immeasurable love.

"Sweetheart, you're crying. Did I do something wrong?" His words were laced with concern, a genuine desire to understand and make amends. Pearl found herself unable to form a response, emotions rendering her speechless.

"Should I stop?" he asked gently, his voice conveying both worry and willingness to fulfill her wishes.

“Oh, Elvis!” she finally managed.

His hand slid from her waist, slipping between her and the mattress, pulling her closer against his solid chest. "What's the matter, darlin'? Are you scared? I promise, I'll be gentle with you. Don't be afraid," he whispered in a soothing tone.

"I love you!" she exclaimed, clinging to him, seeking solace in his embrace. "I'm not afraid. It's just... oh, Elvis, I love you so much it hurts."

He tensed, her words both balm and challenge to his heart. "I love you," she said again, conviction ringing in her voice. "I love you more than words can express."

A tremor rippled through his sturdy frame. His rough, calloused hand were splayed across her back, yet he treated her like the most precious treasure. Despite his strength, his touch remained gentle and caring. "Oh, darlin’," he whispered, voice quivering. "I love you too. With all that I am and all that I’ve got. But it shouldn't make you sad."

"I'm not sad! I'm happy!" she insisted.

He pressed tender kisses to her other cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. "Well, damn..." Frustration and bewilderment colored his tone, making her giggle uncontrollably. She felt his lips curve into a crooked grin against her skin as he continued trailing kisses along her ear. "Pearl Marie, will I ever understand you? Crying because you're happy. Darlin’, sometimes I swear you’re just plum crazy. You don’t make a lick of sense!"

She tilted her head, surrendering to his kiss, the word "lick" igniting a fervent desire for him to tease her sensitive spots with his tongue once more. As if sensing her need, he found a delectably vulnerable spot just below her ear, eliciting a soft gasp as she melted into his touch.

"Yes, right there. Just like that. Oh, yes..." she whispered huskily. Her gown began to shift as he tugged it up, initially causing a spike of fear. But then his palm caressed her bare thigh, sending waves of pleasure washing over her.

Each touch felt like butterfly kisses, leaving her skin tingling with anticipation. Her heart pounded against her chest, and her breath turned shallow and unsteady. With feather-light fingertips, he traced a path to the very core of her being, teasing and tantalizing her with every stroke, only to trail away and trace maddeningly sweet patterns along her knees. It was as if her very essence had turned into a molten syrup, yearning to flow and merge with his touch. The quilts shifted, and suddenly she felt the moist, silken press of his lips against her thigh. Startled, she opened her eyes wide and stiffened with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

"Elvis, what are you..." Her words faded to a breathless moan as his tongue flickered, tracing delicate spirals that kindled liquid heat low in her belly.

Through the quilts, his muffled voice vibrated against sensitive flesh. "Just relax, darlin'. I'm tending to business."

"But, I don't know if..." She clamped her knees together, but his broad shoulders gently eased them apart.

Pearl clutched the rough-hewn headboard, pulse racing. Was he really going to...? Oh Lord, the man aimed to kiss her there. Shock paralyzed her even as exquisite sensations spread like wildfire across her skin, urging her to surrender.

"This ain't proper," she managed, but her resolve wavered under the intoxicating caress of his lips.

He lazily circled her inner thigh, tongue painting glistening trails that seared like summer sun on bare skin. "Hush now, you're sweeter than cherry pie." His warm breath raised gooseflesh. "Let me take care of you."

"Darlin', reckon this here's how it's done?"

"Elvis, are you sure 'bout this? I... I can't rightly tell."

"Start meditatin’, sweetheart. This here's my territory, not yours. Got it?"

She closed her eyes, her voice quivering. "Mediating?" she repeated, sounding mighty puzzled. Drawing nearer, he raised his shoulders, leaning in closer to her. "No need to fret, darlin'. Remember what your ma told ya. Jus' lay still and don’t pay me no nevermind."

He continued his tantalizing journey upwards. She twitched, tightening her grip on the headboard, her gaze fixed on the heavens.

"I'll holler when I'm done, alright?"

Done? Pearl felt an intense longing surge through her core. Close her eyes, that's what she was supposed to do. But... oh, dear heavens. "How long will it... will it take?" she managed to inquire.

Rough palms grasped her backside. Pearl's eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her parted lips. Merciful heavens, he meant to...

"Just as..." he trailed his tongue along her inner thigh, sending shivers of pleasure with every teasing lick, "just as long as it needs to, darlin'."

The first slow lap of his tongue drew a shuddering moan. Fingers clutching the sheets, she stared skyward. This couldn't be real. But the wet heat enveloping her dispelled all doubts.

When he found that one exquisitely sensitive spot, her body jolted as if struck by lightning. "Elvis, I can't..."

"You can, darlin'," he purred before capturing her swollen flesh.

"E-Elvis?" she stammered, her voice vibrating as if it traveled through her vocal cords on a wild bronco.

"Darlin', this part ain't your concern. Jus' lie still and let me handle my business, ya hear?"

"Oh God, please..." She twisted handfuls of his hair, no longer caring what was proper.

His low chuckle vibrated through her very core. "That's my girl. That's the rule," he drawled firmly. "This here's mine to do as I please, without your fussin', right?"

"Y-yes."

"Well then? You lie still and quit your worryin'."

With that declaration, he resumed his gentle lapping, causing her to arch upward uncontrollably. Small, high-pitched sounds escaped her lips. She clung to the headboard, her body rising higher and higher. "Oh my... oh my... mercy, mercy!"

“There’s a girl. Give it to me, darlin’.”

"Yes. Oh, yes," she breathed out, her hands digging into his scalp. "Oh, my God! Oh, dear heaven. Oh, pardon me! I'm meddling again."

He chuckled again, the deep rumble shattering her thoughts as his mouth claimed her sensitive flesh. His tongue swirled and flicked, sparking a blaze that raced through her veins. Digging her heels into the mattress, she arched up, surrendering completely as her hips moved with his. Muscles twitching to his rhythm, the pressure built sharper and sharper within her. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his mouth surged, fiercely pulling until she fractured with a cry, sensations bursting in a kaleidoscope of colors.

She was precious to him.

Throughout his life, Elvis had longed for a woman to love and make his bride, but only now did he truly grasp the meaning. She was his salvation, a woman woven from delicate lace and sunbeams, with eyes as vast as the summer fields. She was warmth and radiance, the tender blossoms of spring. A beautiful and perfect gift. It felt as if he were discovering love for the first time. And in a way, it was. For Elvis Presley was a tough man with an untouched heart. Until now.

This girl held his heart in her hands, capable of making it sing with joy or bleed with sorrow. With a single arch of her spine and a lift of her slender hips, she could ignite him with bliss. He adored her. Her guileless urgency and unwavering trust nearly moved him to tears. No reservations. Just pure vulnerability. And as she shattered in climax, he tasted the rhythm of her heartbeats in the sweet throbbing of her flesh. Afterward, he tenderly caressed and kissed her, soothing her delicate sensitivity, easing the ache that lingered.

When her breaths steadied, he hovered right over her. With her eyelids drooping low and a dreamy smile on her lips, she looked up at him. "Are you done?"

Elvis leaned in for a kiss. "Nah, sweetheart. I'm just lettin' ya catch yer breath afore we go at it again."

Her eyes widened. "Again?"

He grinned and shifted to lie beside her, propping himself up on one arm to get a good look at her face. How beautiful she was, basking in the afterglow of the pleasures he brought to her for the first time!

Beneath him, she gasped as his finger delved deep into her slick heat, back arching, breasts straining against her thin nightgown. He watched each expression dance across her features - surprise, wonder, rising urgency. Teasing and pulling back, he brought her to the edge again and again. When she arched, nipple grazing his chin, he flicked it lightly.

She cried out, quivering, "Oh yes!"

Another deep stroke had her whimpering, begging for more.

Grinning, he met her gaze. "Want me to show 'em some lovin'?"

"Oh, Elvis. Do it again. Please."

Elvis lowered his head, gripping her nightgown with his teeth, and pulled it up her slender frame, exposing her bosom.

Elvis' fingers trembled as he grasped the thin fabric of her nightgown, the white cotton soft like a wisp of cloud between his teeth. With a gentle tug, he peeled back the garment, exposing her bare breasts to the fire's amber glow. Rosy peaks puckered in the chill night air, beckoning his touch.

"Ask me nice, darlin'," he murmured, breath warm against her chest.

Frustration flared in her eyes. Snatching a fistful of his hair, she wrenched him downward. "Just do it already!"

That sure as shootin' had "please" beat to hell. And he reckoned he had every right to tease her mercilessly before giving her what she desired.

Elvis swept his tongue slowly around one taut nipple, tracing its shape, feeling it swell beneath the caress of his mouth. A flick of his tongue made her gasp, then he returned to circling, building anticipation. When he finally closed his lips over the bud, its softness overwhelmed him. He suckled gently and was rewarded with the honeyed taste of her skin.

To his surprise, her body began to writhe, hips undulating, fingers twisting the sheets. The telltale pulsing against his palm revealed she was cresting that peak of ultimate pleasure. Twenty-one years without a lover's intimate touch, and now she came undone in his arms.

He savored each tremor that wracked her slender frame, the way she arched and cried out with abandon. Elvis brought her to that precipice two more times, worshiping her with his mouth until his own need could be denied no longer.

Rising above her, he gripped her legs behind the knees and nestled against slick, molten heat. Still lost in rapture's haze, she gazed up with heavy-lidded eyes, oblivious to the pain that awaited. The primal urge to plunge ahead warred with his vow to cherish her.

"This'll hurt just once, darlin'," he whispered, hating himself. "I wish to God it weren't so."

She blinked, her gaze fixed on his face, her eyes shimmering in the warm glow of the fire. "I understand. Just hold me close through it all," she implored softly. "With you beside me, it won't hurt as much. I won't feel afraid."

Tears blurred his vision. Elvis gathered her in his arms, surrounding her with his strength. She wrapped both arms about his neck, clinging tight. "I'm not scared anymore," she breathed against his cheek.

Though brave in word, her body tensed as he positioned himself at her entrance. In that moment, he would have given all he owned to spare her even the slightest twinge. The not knowing tormented him—how much agony she might suffer as he forged ahead. With infinite care, he nudged inside, felt her passage resist and then give way as she flinched in his embrace. The small cry that escaped her lips shredded his heart.

He buried his face in the silken veil of her hair, cursing the merciless act love demanded of him. To harm the one person who mattered most gutted his soul.

But the cabin cocooned them in its embrace—the familiar smells of woodsmoke and pine, the fire's soothing crackle, the handcrafted furnishings whispering of shared memories. Their sanctuary through so many storms past would shelter them through this too.

"Do it," she insisted, though her body still trembled with fear.

Panic jolted through him like lightning. "Jesus, I can't! I'm hurting you!" He started to withdraw, terrified of damaging her delicate frame. She was far smaller and tighter than any woman before. The risk of forcing himself deeper made his blood run cold. "You're too small, sweetheart," he choked out.

But before he could pull away, she lifted her hips, impaling herself upon him in one swift motion.

Elvis' heart stopped mid-beat. He felt her tight channel give way as she took him fully inside. Fear for her clouded his mind.

"Oh, God damn," he uttered, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. A soft, fragile laugh escaped her lips, and he felt the tension gradually dissipate from her body. With a tenderness that matched the love he held in his heart, she pressed her damp cheek against his neck. The touch of her wet skin against his sent shivers down his spine. In a hushed whisper, she reassured him, her words carrying a profound truth. "It’s all right now," she murmured. "It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought."

Pearl gasped, her back arching off the rumpled sheets. Elvis hovered above, his elbows planted on either side of her shoulders, beads of sweat trailing down his furrowed brow. His hips rocked in a steady rhythm, eliciting soft mewls and whimpers from his wife.

"Is this okay?" His voice was gruff, laced with restraint. Pearl's eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide with desire. She nodded, breathless.

Elvis maintained his pace, relishing the slide of skin against skin. Pearl's nails raked down his back, leaving angry red trails in their wake. Her thighs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper.

"Oh!" she cried out, the sound sharp in the quiet cabin. "Don't stop, please..."

Elvis complied, quickening his thrusts as Pearl's moans grew louder, more desperate. Her hips bucked to meet his, the bed frame creaking in protest. The musky scent of their lovemaking permeated the air.

Pearl's inner walls clenched around him as her climax crashed over her. The sensation tipped Elvis over the edge, his own release pulsing through him in waves. He collapsed on top of his wife, their hearts hammering against each other.

As their breathing slowed, Elvis nuzzled Pearl's neck, inhaling her familiar floral scent. Her fingers lazily combed through his hair. He pressed a tender kiss to her collarbone, overcome with gratitude and awe.

No longer was he a lonesome wanderer. Pearl had become his sanctuary, a beacon guiding him home. Elvis held his wife close as sleep overtook them. The distant howl of coyotes echoed outside their cabin, but they felt no fear in each others’ arms. Here, tangled together, they had found their own private heaven.

#1849 #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fic #elvis fluff #elvis presley smut #elvis smut #elvis fandom

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kateweathermachine2 · 4 months ago

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My thoughts on the Wisdom Saga

Legendary

TELEMACHUS MY BOY!!!

Honestly most of the stuff I have to say about him deals with the next two songs instead of this one…

Okay, but the more I listen to Antonius the more his voice is just ✨✨✨? Like Calypso’s voice being gorgeous was on SIGHT (on… hear? Heard? Audio?), but Antonius keeps getting better the more I listen to him. Don’t get me wrong he’s a bad dude, but his voice acting? Beautiful

I love the setup in this song, you don’t even notice because it’s so catchy

ARGUS CRUSHED MY HEART IN THE ANIMATIC (like I knew he would) poor dog boi… if Jorge doesn’t have Odysseus say hello to him in a song I will be heartbroken.

Little Wolf

This song… the appearance of Athena in this song brought my prospective ranking of it from likely low to battling it out with Love in Paradise for top spot (I’m STILL not sure which one I like more).

When Athena first appeared in the livestream I (mentally) SCREAMED- MY FAV IS BACK SHE’S BACK AND I LOVE HER (very platonically)

I love the little interlude with her and Telemachus- speaking of which-

I’ve seen some people mention how Telemachus seems much younger than 20/21. Something about the portrayal of Telemachus as this naïve inexperienced child? I’m not sure. But I have my own thoughts to share on this, because as someone who’s close to that young adult age, I think it’s actually pretty accurate for Telemachus’s character. He’s lived in the palace all his life, he’s longing to adventure in the world beyond, but he doesn’t know how to fight… I mean, I don’t specifically relate to Telemachus but I can see aspects of this in my own life. I’ve taken my first baby steps into the big adult world, and it’s intimidating and scary, and I don’t know how anything works, but I’m trying anyways. Point being, I don’t understand how people think that Telemachus has to be younger just because he doesn’t have certain life experiences or knowledge yet. I think it’s a very good portrayal of a young adult being unsure of his coming into the world but excited for it anyways.

Anyways back to ATHENA MY GIRL

I love that we get an in-musical explanation of Quick Thought!! I think it’s really important for a musical to be self-contained with its important lore/information and Jorge does such a great job with that.

Athena’s entire speech about the suitors and bullies and inspiring Telemachus and reframing his “Little Wolf” title CHUCKED THIS SONG SO HIGH IN MY BOOK I need to find a character of mine to associate this part to

The little “ooohhhh, maybe I pushed him a bit to hard” is hilarious

Interesting thing we’re doing with transitions into the next songs with this saga. I do agree with some of the people who said it sounds kind of off in this song; I think it might’ve flowed better if it introduced the next one, but honestly, I’m entirely willing to ignore that because this song is *so* good

We’ll be Fine

I have one glaring complaint about this song…. WHY ISNT IT LONGER?!?! I NEED MORE OF THIS

I can honestly see this becoming a comfort song for me, it holds such great messages to remember

“Cause I got in a fight, and I didn’t die!” The bar is on the FLOOR with Telemachus

The voice actors are rocking their respective high notes! Jorge pushed them and they owned it!!

Speaking of those good encouraging messages- I absolutely adore Telemachus’s chorus. Every time I listen to it, my brain auto-fills the lyrics ahead, and I hear, “maybe it’s all gonna be okay,” but then Telemachus actually sings the verse and it’s “maybe it’s all gonna turn out great!” And that’s just… such a good thing to think about. Yeah, it’s gonna be okay in the end, but what if it was better than okay? What if it turned out to be absolutely amazing?? That’s… such a positive way to view things and I need it more in my life. Of course it could get toxic but for me, it’s a great reminder of how good things can become

Love in Paradise

I read a post that mentioned how the happiest song in the Thunder Saga is called Suffering, and the saddest song in the Wisdom Saga is called Love in Paradise, and I hate how accurate that is T^T

THE TIME DIVE MONTAGE WAS SO GOOOD- such a fun mini mash-up of the rest of the songs! I wish I had more to say about it because I want to keep gushing over it but I’m just gonna end up repeating myself saying it’s so good

The little replay of the “Captain?” “I have to see her” ;-;

WANGUI’S VOCALS— I CAN’T— THEY’RE SO GORGEOUS *unintelligible squealing*

“She’s my wife”

“…”

“Anyways-“

Her voice is so pretty help I don’t approve of her actions but her VOICE HER VOICE

Can I also just say the animatic/visuals for this section were also gorgeous, such a great compliment to the audio

The way it goes from all sweet and bouncy to “oh ****” and right back to sweet was so good

“Last I checked goddesses can’t die!!” *cue the Wisdom Saga stream crash of 2024*

The cliff scene… oh my goodness it’s so *good* it’s all so *good* Jorge how are you so good at writing

He pays such close attention to characters and motifs and lines too- you can hear how Calypso triggers Odysseus’s flashback.

NOT TO MENTION- when Odysseus yells his line “All I hear are SCREAMS”, it’s in response to Calypso’s line “I’ll stay inside your heart”- which is Odysseus’s mom’s lyric from the underworld!! I literally just noticed the connection between the line and his reaction and I haven’t seen anyone else mention it before so-

And Athena’s little “he needs my help”- aaaaaa we all feel the pain

God Games

Oh *boy howdy* this one is a doozy

The intro is great, I adore Zeus’s voice- this cast is just FULL of talented voice actors man

“… Hera!…. Or me” …. A-wha-huh? I’m sorry didn’t you used to be “and”???

I was intrigued what Apollo’s grievance would be based on the whole “who’s cows” debacle- the sirens kinda threw me off guard xD

His voice is ✨✨✨ though, I love listening to him

JORGE’S DAD HEPHAESTUS!!!!! Aghhh his voice was so good for the part! And I loved the commentary on trust too

Aphrodite’s and Ares’s parts are still amazing even after all this time- I LOVE the details of Ares’s musical motif! He has the same melody as Athena, but played on this raw-sounding violin/cello? And he *also* has quick thought- but it still all feels different from Athena’s too! Because they’re both gods of war but with different domains and attributes AAAA so good!

And Athena’s lyrics in response- I love the re-do and the little extra quirks in it, like the extra growl on “ARES!!!” And the little riff(?) on “his son’s my FRIIIIEND”

Hera’s part was amazing. 100/10. Her voice was a lot… smoother than I was expecting honestly. It took a bit of getting used to but now I love it. And I am HERE for the dance battle

“Never once has he cheated on his wife”

“Release him.”

10/10 ✨✨✨

I was… really excited for an Athena/Zeus debate in this song when listening to all the snippets. I couldn’t wait to see how Athena would try and persuade Zeus, what arguments he would use specifically, how it would all go down… instead I got uh-

“I played your game and won! Release him.”

Oh so, no Zeus round? Ohh this is why it got changed to “or” isn’t it-

“You DARE to defy me?”

Huh-

“To make me feel shame?”

What’s happeni-

“No one beats me, NO ONE WINS MY GAME!!”

Oh boy howdy-

“THUNDER BRING HER THROUGH THE WRINGER, SHOW HER I’M THE JUDGEMENT CALL, THE ONE WHO MAKES HER KINGDOM FAAAAALL—“

I’M SORRY THIS WENT FROM 10 TO 100 SO FAST WHAT IS HAPPENING?!—

Athena in the flashback scene- holding baby Telemachus- the music- my HEART

And the end instrumental is so triumphant aaaaaa

“Let him gooooo! Please-“ JORGE WHEN I GET YOU JORGE—

Uh, so

My thoughts on God Games right after it came out were

Mixed

At first I was so absolutely frazzled from the livestream I could barely put thoughts together outside of incoherent screaming

But then I read a few tumblr posts about how some others were disappointed in how God Games ended and Zeus’s character- and I found myself agreeing :/

I do have a propensity for latching onto different opinions because I think they’re the “expected” one for me to have- and I totally think a bit of that was going on here- so I took some time off of tumblr/limiting my scrolling (which needed to be stopped anyways-) to really sort out how I felt on this

And I think I feel a bit stilted by God Games from its ending. The ending was… underwhelming? Which sounds INSANE considering the end of the stream but it’s underwhelming less because of actual shock factor and more because of what specifically happens versus my expectations.

Zeus just kind of… blasts Athena in the face??? Without provocation?? Athena DID win his game, she passed the terms he set out, she did all of that… and he shocks her anyways. It just. Doesn’t really sit right with me.

But I love Epic, and want to enjoy every song I come across, and I REALLY didn’t want this view of the ending of God Games to taint the rest of the song or the rest of the musical. So in my next big post, I’m going to do a mini “rewrite”/reworking of God Games that I’ve been toying around with in my mind for a little while now!!

I’ll explain more about why and what and the details in that post but for now, just know that it’s been a helpful exercise in enjoying God Games as it is too, and I’ll get to posting that the next time school isn’t absolutely crushing me with long homework assignments

Anyways, those are my kinda-in-depth thoughts about the Wisdom Saga!! I’ve been so excited to write this out and I’m happy to be posting it finally

#epic the musical #epic the wisdom saga #epic: the musical #epic: the wisdom saga #jorge rivera herrans #jorge when i catch you jorge #legendary #telemachus #little wolf #athena #we’ll be fine #love in paradise #calypso #god games #ohhhhh my goodness all of the songs are so GOOD though did I mention how GOOD they are #listening to them with headphones is a 10/10 experience too #you get all of the good ear candy

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my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction · 6 months ago

Text

The Taming of Man: chapter Sixteen - Dragon Shifting!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader

I got this one out early because I'm exciteddd! Enjoy!

beyond the line break is 16+ due to sexual themes. read at your own discretion.

Words: 2,571

This is incredibly based on the song The Willow Maid by Erutan, I highly recommend giving it a listen for the best experience.

Warnings (above line break): Cursing, reader is She/Her and AFAB, Talk of kidnapping and death, He loves you sm omfg

Warnings (Past line break): Cursing, reader is She/Her and AFAB, lots of physical touch, kisses from the chest up, one singular hickey, vague speak of masturbation, just two inexperienced lovebirds

A long time ago, there was a beautiful faerie maiden, who lived in a tall, sturdy willow tree. The tree of life. They say all trees are the saplings of this tree. It had big, knotted roots, and long twisted branches, reaching to the sky so it could feed its many beautiful leaves and flowers and fruits. She lived in the center of the tree, just where the branches start, and she was known to all the plants and animals as being kind and loving. She tended to the portal, feeding the mushrooms all they needed to grow, and guarding it from all wrongdoers.

One day, as she was singing blithely in her tree, she heard rustling in a bush nearby. Being the naïve girl she was, she climbed down to investigate. She stopped at the base, among the red toadstools, and emerging from the brush was a big, frightful man. He had a giant bow and a quiver of sharp arrows, a hunter. The birds flew and the deer scattered, leaving only the girl and the man.

He called to her from the bushes, saying, "Come to me, fair maiden," but she only shook her head. She said, "I cannot, I am bound to this tree always and forever. Do not ask me to follow where you lead."

With a huff, he left, and the birds returned, and the deer pranced in, and all was well again.

The next day, the same thing happened, her singing and then rustling in the brush. She, as naïve as she was, climbed down to see what was going on. She once again stopped at the base, watching the man return. This time, he held a beautiful flower, golden as the sun, and extended it out to her. He said, "You have captured my heart, beautiful faerie, and I will want to wed you."

She shook her head calmly, saying, "I will never wed you, not ever, for I am bound to this this tree always and forever. Do not ask me to follow where you lead."

The next day, the same thing happened once more, except this time she was already seated at the base of the tree, tending to the flowers there. The man emerged, this time with an axe. "If you will not come willingly, then I will take you and your tree," he said, raising his axe.

She screamed in fear, cowering as he landed a blow on the ancient tree. "You and I will raise children, and we will be together for the rest of our lives," he ordered, hitting the colossal tree again.

She wept as he chopped down her tree, her energy fading with each land of the blade to the wood. She wept as the tree came crashing down in only three strikes, animals scattering and squealing with fear. She wept as he grabbed her, walking her out of her precious home.

All the while she wept and she wept, her tears hitting the ground, flowing back towards the clearing she was born in. They watered the land, their journey only ending in the clearing, where they gathered into a babbling brook. Her tears flowed over the portal, not drowning the mushrooms, but rather strengthening them, with her love and nurturing energy.

Meanwhile, The man carried her tree through the forest, making her walk with him, until eventually, she couldn't walk anymore. She collapsed, just at the edge of the forest, falling to her knees. He ordered her to stand, but she couldn't. She began to fade away, her life force pulsing out of her, fueling the forest with her newfound rage. She never wanted this to happen again, not to any other faerie, so with her energy she turned the forest into a shield for the portal.

The area came alive around the man, the trees tripping him, the moss burning him, the flowers shooting at him. He died there, the woods consuming him, and the portal was safe once more.

"That was different from the song," Katsuki remarked teasingly, glancing towards you from his place on the bannister. He was leaning on it now, his elbows and back resting upon it. "Well, we had to make it easy for kids to learn," you shrugged, smiling.

"Isn't that kinda gruesome for kids," He asked pointedly, poking your arm.

"Isn't the crying lady gruesome?"

"No, it's sad," he defended half-heartedly. He took in a breath, looking up to the sky in thought. "That story isn't about some random man, is it?"

"What do you mean," you ask. He wasn't...completely right.

"It's about dragonborne, huh?"

You went quiet. You really didn't want to tell the story like that, it didn't feel necessary. "I- Y'know, now that you mention it, it could be," you say dumbly, hoping to make him laugh.

He does, but with a shake of his head. "You got a lot of horror stories about us, doncha?"

"Well...me disappearing two days before my birthday certainly won't help," you sigh, looking down at the garden below.

"Your birthday," Katsuki asked incredulously.

"Yeah," you nod passively, not yet realizing what it was you were saying. "You got here two days ago," he stated, staring at you.

"Yeah...oh yeah," you giggle nervously. In all the commotion, your birthday has been an after thought. "Yeah, I guess it is my birthday," you mutter, giving him an embarrassed look.

"When were you gonna tell me, dumbass," Katsuki asked sternly, standing upright.

"I dunno, I forgot," you laugh. It was cute how serious he was taking this.

"Well...we gotta do something," he huffs, taking your hand to drag you into the room.

"Like what, It's already late," you say, amused.

"Just...something," he says stubbornly, stopping as he realizes there's nothing to do right now. "Or...or I could get you something."

"all the shops are closed...and you don't have to, we could just spend time togeth-"

"Wait here," he says hurriedly, his mind already made up as he leaves for god-knows-where. You sigh, a faint smile on your face as you sit on the bed. You guess you're waiting now.

10 minutes later, he returns, panting a little, his hands full with glittering gold and jewels. Bracelets, rings, necklaces, all spilling from his palms.

"Wha- where did you get all this," you ask, laughing as he unloads the gifts into your lap.

"Treasure room," he says simply, sitting next to you. "nobody'll notice."

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I don't think I can wear all this."

"Then pick what you can and I'll put the rest back," he says simply, resting his head on yours now.

"Are you sure?"

"Just do it."

You sift through the items, eventually picking out a gold ring with a ruby stone, a gold necklace with delicate flower charms, and a gold bangle with jade veins running through it. "There, Done," you say softly, setting them aside. "You're pickier than I thought," he teases, taking the rest in his hands.

"it's not that I don't like anything else, I just can't-"

"I know," he says, uncharacteristically gentle, before standing to put everything back. "Wait, I want you to stay," you ask sweetly, smiling as you put the jewelry on.

"I'll be back, idiot," he grumbles, watching intently as you put on his gifts.

"I know...but I just want you here now," you say quietly. You felt kind of pitiful, not being able to go 10 measly minutes without him, but you felt a wave of sleepiness wash over you and you didn't want to fall asleep while he was gone. "You can take them back tomorrow..."

Katsuki sighs, rolling his eyes with a faint grin as he sets the small pile down on his desk. Without another word, he takes you by your waist and lifts you a little, pushing you back so you could lie down without your feet hanging off the edge. He lays on top of you, his chin on your chest and his arms around your torso, eyes locked lovingly on your face. "this good enough?"

"It's perfect," you whisper, happy. Your hand moves to run through his hair, taking the opportunity to feel those horns. They were just hard little nubbins right before his forehead, hardly formed, but they were there. You moved on, idly scratching his scalp. This moment...to think you would have never experienced it, if you stayed and got married to some duke of nowhere.

Katsuki leaned into your touch, sighing in content. His hands began to slide down, moving towards your hips, before he stopped suddenly. They moved back up quickly, and his eyes flicked to meet yours. Despite his hard gaze, there was a bit of jittery nervousness there, like he was gaging your reaction.

"Whatcha doin," you asked, smiling at his expression. He relaxed a little, his face returning to it's general annoyance. "Tryin' to sleep," he grumbled, closing his eyes.

"No pajamas?" You yourself weren't wearing pajamas, but the flowy dress was comfortable enough and you didn't feel like changing. He, on the other hand, had on a button-up shirt, and slacks, and that old, important necklace.

He huffed, now painfully aware of his circumstances, and sat up a little. He discarded all of his jewelry, and in the need to spite you for "making" him do this, he took off his shirt and kicked off his pants then and there. He still had his boxers on, but besides that he was now clotheless. He laid back down, resuming the previous position.

"Katsuki," you say, clearly shocked and flustered. "What? Lemme sleep," he mumbled gruffly, his brows furrowed slghtly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but...was it really worth arguing about? Here he was, toned body on display for your eyes, each muscle defined from the effort to work every part of himself. You wouldn't say anything.

Scars littered his back, some deeper than others, and on his arm were the faint little marks from the thistles that punctured his skin so long ago. You brought your fingers to them, tracing the warm and indented skin, while you trailed your nails of the other hand delicately down his spine.

Katsuki's grip on you tightened a little, his head tilting to rest his cheek on your breast as he slowly opened his eyes again. He looked impassioned, hungry even.

"Quit it," he finally muttered, his voice low and stern.

You were surprised, he seemed to enjoy it just a moment ago. You stopped as he asked, your hands moving back to his head, but you asked, "Why?"

"Because..." he started, glaring at you not in anger, but in a more affectionate annoyance. Because the circles you traced gave him Goosebumps. Because your fingers set a fire just below his stomach. Because your wandering little hands made him want to grab you, hold you to him, make you squeal and writhe and moan all because he made you. "Because I said so."

"That's a shit reason," you laugh. Especially because you could tell he wanted to say more.

"You're a shit reason," he insulted half-heartedly, too tired and too distracted to come up with something better.

"I'm offended," you say impassively.

"No you're not."

"I could be. Do you really wanna take that chance, Katsuki?"

he frowned, unamused by your antics. "Why do you always gotta be so complicated?" He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and sighing it out.

"Because I said so."

"Stupid," he chortled, grinning despite himself as he ran his hand slowly down your side, to your hip once more. He didn't move it this time. You didn't move it, either.

He opened his eyes again. You were staring back at him, your own eyes half-lidded, your lips curved into a sleepy smile.

He sucked in a determined breath, before planting a lazy, open-mouthed kiss on the space between your breasts, watching carefully for a reaction. Only because it was easy to reach. He just didn't want to lift his head up. He was tired, that's all. Yeah.

You glanced back and forth between his eyes, searching for some instance of teasing. He was genuine. Genuinely kissing you with that expression like you're his everything because you are. You didn't stop him, you simply closed your eyes. You leaned your head back. You brought your fingers down his back in encouragement once more.

He propped himself up and kissed you again, this time moving to your collarbone. Then on the top of your sternum. Then, hesitantly and gently, he left a long, bruising kiss on your neck, a hand of his supporting your head as he keyed in on the subtle whining in your throat. Perfect. So goddamn perfect.

He pulled back, cheeks pink as he took in the sight. Your lashes fluttered against your warm face as you opened your eyes to meet his. Your lips were parted, slow and slightly shakey breaths leaving them as you felt his thumb slide back and forth against your hipbone, his knee edging up and barely parting your own knees. There on your neck was the purpling hickey he left, sitting just above your shoulder.

You could feel his eyes trailing over you hungrily, and a wave of nerves washed over you. "I...I don't know if I'm ready just yet," you whispered, embarrassed.

He pursed his lips, glancing in thought to the pillow beside you, before sitting up all the way. "...That's fine." He sounded almost pained.

"I...I didn't wanna lead you on or anyth-"

"Shut up. Don't say stupid shit like that. You're not leading me on," he said, his words harsh but his tone so gentle. He laid back down, this time beside you. He took your hand in his, his thumb tracing your palm as he looked down to you, his gaze hard. "Don't let me do shit you don't want."

"...I won't," you say, almost amused. Here you were, thinking he'd be mad. He cared so much about you, he respected you, he loved you. The thought made your heart pound, it made your breath catch. Consent really is key, huh? maybe you were ready.

"Katsuki...your mom said that you can't reproduce before being in the mating stage. How does that...work?"

He seemed a little confused at your sudden intrigue. "Males don't have...semen when they're not ready." There were other words he wanted to use, but didn't for the sake of being clinical about it.

"Do you...? Y'know, with the whole thing about us working different than each other?" If he was already growing horns, there could be other things he may or may not have early.

"I dunno...'s not like I check. Why're askin' this shit? I'm tired," he sighed. Now that his horniness died down, he was left with nothing but the craving to sleep.

You grin, turning to face him on your side. "It's for your benefit, trust me," you sigh, your own eyelids heavy.

It dawned on him then. "I- well, I could check," he says quickly, although you can tell by his voice that even if he did some self discovery, he'd knock out so quick after it'd be useless to find out now.

"nah, go to sleep," you say softly, your hand moving to slide down his shoulder soothingly. He lets out a huff, but pulls you closer. "Fine...but tomorrow," he says pointedly.

You haven't the energy to argue.

Ooooooh premarital kissinggggg 🫢

Taglist: @sky-angel101 @the-galaxy-fiend @chixkadee @ssplague @sappho-the-kitten-tamer @andysdrafts @daria-rona @tanjirofan63 @aizawaslut09 @tsukiiomii @me1297 @qardasngan

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muffinsin · 1 year ago

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Hey, the succubus ask was really good! Loved the concept of Dani and her first time. I always liked the idea of Dani getting corrupted for her first time. I agree with your interpretation that Dani is the kinkiest of the sisters, but surely she wasn’t always that way. Poor innocent Dani, the youngest of house Dimitrescu. Naïve and viewing the world through rose tinted glasses because her only exposure to romance is through overly idealized and fictitious storybooks. She’s sheltered. The only interactions she can get aside from family are villagers/maids that have to tolerate her unless they want a sickle to the throat, thus all “friends” are disingenuous. In the rare occasion an outsider or foreigner gets trapped and forced to work in the castle it is still shallow and short lived interaction as many either feign interest to escape, caught escaping and are punished, or get themselves killed in the process of escaping. Most importantly, these are fragile mortals. Dani can never completely express affection physically because she has so much love to give and she gets so caught up in her emotions squeezing too hard during a hug, dragging a maid to show her something, shakes them too fast before realizing she’s killed them in her excitement. It’s not fair, Bela and Cassandra are better at controlling their strength. They’re able to have numerous relationships throughout their undead lives and Dani has yet to have one. Not to mention the frustration of her family babying her. She’s sheltered, innocent, but especially desperate. Dani wants to be loved and desired and to give it back, but her love proves to be deadly. Until one day…..an outsider appears, a fellow immortal. A female demon, not a succubus, but definitely a demon living among humans and traversing the world. Stumbling upon the secluded village during their trip to Romania. They sneak into the castle, no foul intentions they were just curious. They get caught by Bela and are brought to Alcina. The demoness does not put up a fight knowing that they can’t be harmed. However, they are disturbingly calm and quiet, which Bela and Alcina are not used to since a real human would be screaming, begging, fighting. Eventually, Alcina decides to put the “human” woman in the dungeon for the time being. Right then dani comes into the room to ask a question. She stops mid sentence with eyes locked on the outsider. The demoness finds her attractive and sensing an opportunity decided to wink at dani, showing interest. Dani is instantly taken by the mysterious woman and her romantic delusions are fueled. “She must be the one,” she thinks, “I must have her,” she reasons. Dani begs Alcina to have the woman. Alcina eventually agrees since she didn’t have plans for the woman before. Dani takes the demoness back to her room creating a tea party, including seats for stuffed animals (I headcanon that she has a shit ton of stuffed animals and talks to them sometimes lol). The demoness is still calm and quiet, listening to Dani intently as she rambles about her fav novels. Until dani slips up and mentions how lonely she is. The demoness picks up on this and questions dani, learning how inexperienced her “captor” really is. The demoness finds Dani very attractive and feels a genuine connection, so she decides to give Dani some of the love she’s been missing in her life…..exposing her to what real love and desire can feel like😉

I’m so weak for Dani istg-

This is a long one everyone XD also, very glad I finally got to tend to this!! Y’all don’t know for how long this has been sitting in my inbox ;-;🙇‍♀️

Let’s get into it!👀

Masterlists: 1-3

Daniela Dimitrescu is a hopeless romantic, this much is known throughout the entire castle. Another thing that is known: to avoid her at all costs, to avoid detection by the youngest daughter under all circumstances.

It is clear: detection by this daughter means sure death.

While with Bela there is more than just a fleeting chance to survive, should one only mind their manners and not get on her nerves,

And even Cassandra is somewhat survivable, should she not have her eye set specifically on you,

Daniela’s attention means death. Not a single one has survived an encounter with this one.

Sometimes, it is unavoidable to slip from her attention. And when she does see you, it is said it’s over already. Death comes to every “lover of hers”.

A delusional romance begins the moment she sets her eyes on her prey, and should anybody break this delusion of hers, they will be punished with death penalty. Not that there is an alternative, really, because even if one plays along, Daniela always ends up killing her playthings, leaving them disfigured and cold.

Now, this is what the stories say. And they are not completely wrong.

Save for Daniela’s view. The poor thing, who entirely shut away from the romantic, fairytale life she wishes to have.

Yearning, she asks herself: if she is locked in the castle the way Rapunzel is trapped in the tower, where is her saviour?

The one to lessen the solitude in the large castle? Her soulmate…

And poor Daniela, delusional and all too desperate to fall in love she rushes every step along the way. Instead, she falls madly for every person, believing- truly- they were instantly as madly in love with her. And, she is disappointed every time.

Eager and entirely deprived of romance and a partner, Daniela aches for true love. A relationship, a proper one.

Yes, those that catch her attention do not live. And each time she kills them, a small part of her heart breaks off.

She doesn’t mean to kill her lovers! She’s just- excited. She forgets how fragile humans are.

And so, she becomes more and more deprived of all of it.

She watches her sisters take lovers and spend their time with them, hears them bed them.

Yet, she is denied such a thing. Being the “baby” of the family, it seems nobody is good enough for her according to her sisters and mother.

Maidens willing and eager to bed her are scared off quickly by her protective sisters, or even torn apart entirely for daring to attempt to defile the youngest daughter.

The youngest sister, who is no longer young. Centuries pass, lifetimes, and poor Daniela is stuck in her role of a baby sister and daughter, coddled and spoiled through and through, protected and loved.

Oh, but so very isolated. Protective sisters ensuring her safety to the point she is unable to have dates or sex, an even more protective mother regularly proving and demonstrating she will slice all unworthy ones to ribbons who dare as much as touch Daniela.

Oh, but she yearns to be snatched right under all of their noses. She yearns for a relationship, for love. Something that lasts.

She promises, each time, she will be careful with her lover. Yet then excitement kicks in, and limbs are far too easily ripped and broken. Her love is deadly, her attention a curse. Her affection is a plague, and as such it leads to a lover’s death.

Yet…this is to change one day, unbeknown to Daniela.

It’s the day a demoness enters the village.

From far away, and eventually stumbling into the village, you traverse the world, looking for big and small wonders. It seems, you have found one, when you eye the large castle in the distance.

Between trees and clouds, a tower peeks out. The top of a large, luxurious castle. With its windows shining in the light and wind curling around its tips, flags waving in the wind.

The air is bitingly cold, but you don’t mind. You run warmer than most due to your inhuman nature.

You’ve met a single person so far, a woman, lost to the flame. In her dying phrase she spoke to you and warned you of the wicked witches in the castle.

Of course, this peaked your interest.

As you approach the castle entrance, you see the blood seeping into the wooden gate and staining the stony ground. You raise an eyebrow curiously.

It’s rare you come across killers. The world is painfully boring compared to the torture and pain, punishments and blood that is spilled where you come from. The thought of being among murderers excites you.

Is this why the village is so empty?

With ease no mortal would possess, you push open the heavy iron doors to the castle. Inside, it is warm. Nearly overwhelmingly so.

But, it is intentional, you notice. Every window in the entrance hall is closed. A fire is lit. Carpets scatter on the floor. It seems the inhabitants like it warm.

“Curiosity killed the cat”, you murmur to yourself with a small giggle. Perhaps you’d be cautious if anything in this world was as a threat to you.

Alas, you only feel burning curiosity.

You see a large painting, vases and flowers, rich colours and heavy curtains. The castle looks as though from a completely different decade.

As you walk, you hear light buzzing around you. A couple of times you need to swat some flies away.

At last, you find yourself in what seems to be a large hall. You find another large door. The windows next to it suggest it leads to the castle gardens. Yet, just as you grip the handle of the door, you hear loud giggling and the even louder buzzing of wings and flies.

You feel a body press up against your backside, and hear laughter in your ear. Yet when you turn, you see only flies.

It seems, the first “witch” is revealed to you. A brunette, with a large smirk and blood coating her lips. She stalks around you, as though you are her prey.

When you feel hands on your shoulders, gripping tight enough to bruise, another is revealed. A blonde. She grips you tightly, and laughs happily.

“We’ve caught you now, little one”, she hums, all too pleased with herself. She doesn’t seem to care for the fact you haven’t even attempted to move from her grasp. In fact, she seems entirely too sure of herself.

Both women’s faces are bloodied, their makeup smeared. They reek, of blood and sex, poorly covered by their rich perfumes. You doubt a mortal could smell, though.

They stare at you for a moment when you merely look at them and take in their appearance. Then, as though reminded of what they want, the brunette grips your arm tightly and pulls you with her.

“Mother will know what to do with you!”, the blonde tries to threaten. Intrigued, you follow without putting up a fight.

More elegant halls greet you, as well as warm carpets and lit fireplaces. The women are dressed in black dresses, with black, thin coats and black heels. Gloves cover their hands.

When you enter a room, you find a woman, too tall to be mortal, dressed in white. She must be the mother of the two, you think.

Unlike her daughters, the woman seems less animalistic in her movements. She doesn’t seem to bother trying to catch you, while still attempting to present herself as a predator.

“So, you have broken into my Castle”, she speaks, loud and clear. You hear the girls snicker next to you when they let go of you.

“I was merely curious, Milady. I mean no harm, I’m simply passing through”, you answer, voice as steady as hers. It seems to catch the three off guard.

“Mother! Let me have her!”, The brunette demands. She’s holding her sickle tightly, her smile wide and sadistic. You merely raise an eyebrow at her. You wonder, how fast will the little sadist grow tired of you when you will not scream in pain?

“Mother! I captured her for you!”, the blonde pipes in. She frowns angrily, almost pouts. It can almost be described as adorable, how the woman seems unhappy about her sister asking for what she believes is rightfully hers.

A large, gloved hand sets on her head, and it seems to calm the angry blonde. “Patience, you two. She must be sampled first”, the tall woman, their mother, answers simply.

Despite their apparent wild nature, they both obey the command and back away a little.

It’s your turn to frown when your arm is lifted, your wrist exposed for the countess. You watch curiously as she digs her teeth inside, the pain others would experience barely a numbness you feel.

All three seem unsatisfied with your reaction, how you merely watch curiously and drop your hand back to your side when she is done. Still, the mother of two doesn’t let this bother her, it seems.

She wipes her lips almost gracefully, then sniffs richly. “She is of no use to our cause”, she declares, and almost immediately the two women in black push themselves back against you.

“You heard her! We can have her! Why can’t I ever get the first bite?!”, the brunette argues from your left. She tugs your arm harshly, sneering at her sister.

“You know I get the first bite! Mother! Tell her!”, the bratty blonde answers, her hands tightly around your right arm, tugging and baring her teeth at her sister.

You dare snicker at them, giggling at their reactions. They both draw back a little in confusion.

Just as the older woman opens her mouth again, likely to quit the bi keeping between the two, the large doors are pushed open yet again.

You inhale automatically, smelling a sweet, flowery aroma in the air. A third woman- a third sister- appears.

“Mother, why isn’t the librar…”

The moment you spot her, Daniela spots you. You hold your breath for a moment without meaning to.

The third sister is breathless, rivalling the other two in beauty and effortlessly standing out. She smells less dark, does not reek of human arousal and sweat, although she shares the bloody aroma of her sisters. Still, she smells of flowers and perfume.

It seems, you found someone worthwhile in the castle.

Daniela gasps when you wink at her, her hand rising to her chest automatically. A large grin comes to her face, and the glint even reaches her eyes. She understands: that’s why all these people have died! She was just waiting for you! Oh, surely you must be who she is meant to be with!

Daniela shrieks and quickly grabs your arm, pulling you away from her older sisters as she sees them summon their sickle already, having seen the flirty wink thrown her way.

“Mother!”, she pipes up. “Mother!”, she repeats, ensuring the tall woman looks at her. Daniela nuzzles against her hand eagerly, unaware of the daggers the woman shoots your way.

“May I keep her, please?”, She begs, golden puppy eyes full on display. You smirk at this- the auburn haired woman certainly knows her weapons. You can immediately tell she is the youngest of the bunch, by the protectiveness of her family as well as the puppy eyes only she pulls out.

Puppy eyes, the Mother of three seems to have trouble denying.

“Your sisters have caught her, Daniela. Aside from this, she was supposed to go in the basement, my dove”, the older woman reasons. Both older sisters seem pleased by this, their eyes flashing to you murderously.

“Please, mama, I want her”, Daniela begs. She can’t help the smile that comes to her face- she knows Mother will give into this.

And right she is. With a sigh and a gloved hand patting Daniela’s head, the countess grants her youngest the wish.

“Mother! She’ll just die with her anyway! I want a turn before that!”, The brunette immediately complains. You eye the redhead. She seems genuinely hurt by her sister’s words.

“She won’t! I’ll take good care of her! She loves me!”, she argues, oblivious to your surprised gasp and raised eyebrow.

Love? Now, she’s a little ahead of herself. You don’t deny that you feel attraction to the beautiful woman, however.

So, without much more ado, you feel her grasp your hand in hers, tugging you from the chamber.

“I’m Daniela!”, she introduces herself eagerly. She’s beyond happy and pleased with herself, and her grip on you is tight. The numbness in your arm has you realise- the enthusiastic thing would have broken your hand had you been a mortal.

Daniela yelps in surprise when you come to a halt, instead hold her hand gently and pull it to your lips. She blushes sweetly as you kiss her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Daniela”.

You are not overly secretive with her, and share your name freely. She grins at this, and repeats it. You find, your name sounds beautiful coming from her soft lips and spoken in her gentle voice.

“We’ll be so happy together!”, she says then, tugging you along once again. You follow her eagerly, adoring the little skip she has in her steps.

“May I ask, Daniela”, you coo. “What is this place?”

She doesn’t seem bothered by your questions at all. You’re the first to fill the silence with her.

“Castle Dimitrescu, silly. It’s your new home!”, she beams. You hum. It certainly isn’t a bad place, even if the excited little thing is wrongly under the impression that this is your home.

Funnily enough, she won’t be wrong.

You follow her until she brings you to another room- this one is large and bright, full of- everything, really.

There’s a large bed, fit for a princess. You startle momentarily as the woman dissolves into what seems to be many flies. She manifests at the bed again, giggling as she plops down on it, surrounded by pillows and blankets, and more stuffed animals than you have ever seen in a single bed during your travels.

You walk past a small desk with pots and silverware on it, past shelves stacked with books and a canvas with a few flowers drawn on it, until you too sit on the bed.

Your eyes widen when she suddenly moves again, instead straddles your lap and holds onto your shoulders tightly.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you, my love!”, she declares, her head resting against your shoulder.

You notice she is cold, even through the black dress she seems to share with her sisters. She feels incredible against your warm skin. In turn, Daniela all but sucks up the warmth of your skin.

“Do you like my room?”, she asks, her hair tickling your face. You don’t mind. You can’t help but smile when wide, golden eyes look up at you as she asks. You realise they nearly sparkle in the light.

“I do”, you answer honestly. You can’t help but wrap your arm around her, holding her hip to steady her.

Again, you notice her flesh is cold, but also soft. She’s incredibly human for an inhuman being, a mutant.

“I love it, in fact”, you correct yourself, and she beams up at you. “Do you enjoy reading?”, You ask. You can’t explain it, but she is intriguing. This little ball of sunshine among darkness has you curious.

Her eyes widen, and her lips part. She rambles, and you love every bit of it. With each word you feel your attraction and admiration for her grow.

She talks of her favourite books, romance and fantasy ones, of princesses and fairytales, of love and war, of poetry and what not.

She swarms off your lap as she talks, instead guides you to move off the bed as well and sit at the small table near it. You follow, captivated by her words.

As she talks, she moves fast and gracefully. Light shines through the window and caresses her skin and the edges of her dress.

Your auburn haired “captor” looks beautiful.

“So it is company you seek?”, you ask when she takes a breather. She’s been rambling non stop, but you don’t mind. You think it’s endearing.

A sigh passes her lips. She sets up some stuffed animals around you, before she too falls down on one of the chairs.

It almost looks like a tea party, and you wonder whether she ever has real ones- Whether she has people to have them with. The poor thing seems pitifully lonely, so much so she must do with stuffed animals put in small dresses for company.

You understand her, though, and lift the tea pot. It’s empty, but you don’t mind playing along. Daniela smiles again when you “pour” tea into her cup, then into each standing in front of the stuffed animals;

A green giraffe. It’s knitted, and wears a small, dark jacket, which is knitted too. You see blood covering the neck and figure Daniela must bite it sometimes.

A blue fish, round and silly looking with a top hat on top of it. It seems to be made out of cotton, if you had to guess.

And a pony, light pink, with dark pink hair. Dressed in a purple dress with a silver ring serving as a crown.

“I love my family. Mother, my sisters”, Daniela explains. She looks longing almost, and when she grasps your hand, you give hers a reassuring squeeze.

“I love the castle too. I don’t remember living anywhere else. I’ve been here all my life. In this region. We are sometimes allowed outside, in the forest, to hunt”, she explains. You hum in acknowledgment as you “sip” your tea. The action makes her cheeks burn.

Daniela’s never really had a proper tea party with her lovers, they simply never did it right. And her sisters soon grew out of it and didn’t wish to entertain her parties anymore. But you seem to know exactly what to do. Daniela grins for a moment- yes, you are her soulmate, she is sure.

“I love being so close to my sisters. They’re everything to me”, she continues on. She sounds content, but- longing. Being the only mutant among mortals has you long for company, too.

“And the castle is so grand and beautiful. I’m thankful to be able to call it my home”, Daniela speaks gently. She reaches for her stuffed animal as she does; the giraffe. With petite fingers and gentle movements, she plays with the knitted animal’s head.

“I just…”

“Feel lonely”, you add for her. Golden eyes snap to you, widening in amazement. “Yes! Yes, lonely!”, Daniela confirms.

You notice yourself lean in closer to her, and see her do the same. She’s adorably desperate already, her hand knocking over teacups as she leans over the table. When you cup her cheek, she smiles happily.

GYou can no longer hold back, nor do you attempt to. Your body urges you to take her, but also, you do want to give the beauty what she seeks. Perhaps your solitude has ended too.

Daniela hums in surprise when you at last push forwards the last bit, cupping her reddening cheek as it grows warm under your fingertips.

She hums into the kiss, clumsily trying to return it. At this, you smile against her plump lips. She isn’t an experienced kisser, but good enough from the few kisses she stole from maidens here and there. You have no problem teaching her.

Daniela gasps as she is pulled forwards, swarming eagerly to sit herself back on your lap. “You’re so intriguing”, you speak honestly, your breath warm as it tickles against her lips.

“Please, my love. Be mine”, she whispers.

Again, she grasps your hand tightly. And again, you feel how desperate the poor, murderous thing is. You know yet again the redhead would’ve accidentally hurt you with her own strength if you could feel any pain.

But you don’t mind taking your time with her, teaching her to be gentle and sweet at times. You know you can be, will be, with her. She seems delicate like the flowers she smells of.

You inhale, and are surprised when you find another scent. She’s aroused already, decades of pent up frustration making itself known. She’s eying you desperately, tugging your hands and kissing you eagerly.

She wants to be taken, so badly, and is so eager and fast.

It’s as if Daniela fears should you not pluck her now, her sisters will once again ruin the opportunity for her and take you away.

No such thing happens.

You take your time with her, instead too. It’s funny how the auburn haired woman has grown on you in such little time. You enjoy her ramblings, and think she is genuinely cute. You want to give her this experience of love and desire.

Daniela gasps when you grasp and squeeze her hips, her thighs pushing harder against the outside of yours. She’s adorably shy now, hands searching for a spot to hold onto.

You smirk at her, an index finger under her chin tipping up her head and making her look at you. “Is this your first time, sweet thing?”, you ask. She certainly seems as though it is.

With a blush and a shy look cast downwards, Daniela confirms this. She grinds forwards on top of you, her warm core mere inches from yours. You practically feel her want.

“Please, my love, take me”, Daniela gasps out, her hands at last tugging the front of your top. “Want me”, she begs, quietly, more to herself than anybody else. She wishes for many things, but truly wishes to be wanted. To be desired and admired, obsessed over.

You’re not about to disappoint her.

Daniela gasps when you suddenly lift her as you stand, the feeling so foreign to her. Oh, but she loves it! It has her grin and hold onto your shoulders, hook her legs around you. She feels you hold onto the back of her upper thighs to keep her elevated, and it has her blush yet again.

Never has she been touched there, not even for a moment.

She giggles when she finds herself set back down on the bed, a hand to her chest pushing gently and having the beauty fall back against reddish sheets and blankets, fluffy pillows and a few stuffed animals here and there.

With wide eyes and her breath held she watches you drag the corset off her painfully slow. She whimpers, your hands loving yet greedy, fingers sliding across her covered skin as you work on undressing her.

“You’re irresistible, Daniela. Allow me, I must simply see more”, you husk into her ear, leaning above her as you unzip her dress and gently pull it down her pale, creamy shoulders.

Daniela is breathing heavily, her eyes lidded as she watches the garment she is so used to be peeled from her skin.

Only one had attempted to do so before, only one had come this far. But they had been fast and rough, and it was only months later she understood why her sisters were so enraged with the woman: she took advantage of Daniela’s nativity, of her desperation and innocence, too eager to defile and use her, taste her like a forbidden fruit before digging the knife she’s had on her into her chest.

She eventually forgave her sisters for the cruelties done to the women.

She knows, they look out for her.

But you are different. You don’t have a hidden weapon ready to be dug inside of her the moment she is caught off guard. You like her, you practically worship her with your sweet touches and kisses pressed to her lips and jawline.

Daniela melts like butter under your very fingertips.

The virgin attempts to appear cool and seductive instead of shy, yet can’t help but wrap her hands around herself once all but her bra and panties are off, a blush adamant on her cheeks.

You know, you’ll enjoy taking her. You’ll take and defile her for yourself, taste and bring her to orgasm over and over again until the little thing can’t keep standing. And when she does get enough, you’ll keep her in your arms.

Perhaps this delusional woman is right, perhaps she is destined to be with you. The chances are slim, but you enjoy her company and decide to take a risk in this secluded castle.

Daniela watches hungrily as you pull off your clothing, one by one revealing slightly scarred skin. Scarred from your past- no mortal could do such things to you.

She stares, and she knows it, and attempts her best not to. Still, you see her struggle and try to advert her eyes from your chest, yet they keep flickering to it.

More clothing is dropped to the floor, until you equal her.

You lean over her, chuckling as she gasps and tries adorably hard to keep eye contact instead of ogling your chest.

No matter. You will teach the shy, but desperate woman to be dirty. Dirty as you can be…

Daniela gasps high pitched when you take ahold of her breasts, squeezing and groping her shamelessly through her thin, lacy bra.

Her hand shoots to her mouth, attempting to stifle her sweet noises.

No, that will not do. Not at all, in fact.

You tsk at the woman, your hand eagerly tugging hers away and replacing it with your lips. Again, she moans into your mouth, her hips grinding against the air and lifting to reach you.

“Let me hear you, my beautiful Daniela”, you coo, and your words make her head spin. She whines, a breathless plea.

She wants to be touched so bad, but you intend on making your beautiful girl beg a little more for you.

Daniela’s back arches a little when you capture her breasts again, squeezing the large mounds eagerly. She’s soft, and thick, with a very large chest. The sweet virgin’s nipples are sensitive, even with the layer of the bra covering them.

“Do you like this, sweetheart?”, you coo into her ear. Daniela whimpers, her head nodding fast.

She’s trying to stay quiet, and barely manages so. She knows, should she scream, it’s likely her family will come running to her “safety”.

“Yes, my love, please my sweet!”, she begs quietly, but desperately. You can tell she is long due for these kind of touches. Or any, really. The poor thing is soft and sensitive below you, entirely unused to being touched- let alone being touched properly.

“Good girl”, you coo, eyes flashing at the audible, hitched breath that comes from her. You know, below her sweet, innocent surface this one is naughty.

You know, her eagerness to learn and try things- clearly proven by her room- will prove to be very exciting. You can just imagine introducing her to all that you have come across in your travels.

You smile down at her, chest heaving as she pants, her neck bared to you and wrists resting at the sides of her head, her eyes lidded as you toy with her. She’s so submissive, so eager underneath your exploring and wandering fingertips.

“Please, my love, please touch me”, she begs. You smirk at her, an eyebrow raised as you tip her head back up for you.

“My, but I am touching you, my sweet little Daniela”, you counter with a large smirk. She’s blushing for you, before plump lips part and she begs sweetly: “Please touch me between my legs, down there…”, she asks, adorably shy. You nearly giggle at her. She’s holding back, shy and adorable for you. You can’t wait to teach her.

As such, you eagerly slide your hands down, dragging her bra with you. She gasps again when her nipples are bare and revealed to you and you merely throw the black bra to the pile on the floor.

You can barely wait. This foreplay has already soaked your underwear throughout. Ah, and you’re not the only one.

Daniela is utterly wet, her underwear sporting a dark, wet spot where her slit is. You caress her through her underwear, smirking as she gasps and mewls below you.

It’s an easy task to find her little clit.

Oh, and how it has the auburn haired moan and writhe on the bed for you when you target it and rub it through her soaked panties.

Daniela all but grasps your wrist, begging you to keep going.

Her golden eyes are set on you as you toy with her, licking and sucking the soft skin at her thighs.

You can smell her arousal clear as day, and do your best to hold back and not grab her by her hips and smudge her wet core against your lips. Your mouth waters at the mere thought of tasting the virgin on your tongue.

She grasps your hair firmly, tugging and shrieking as her legs start to shake already. The poor thing is inexperienced, eager, and overly sensitive all over.

A filthy thought crosses your mind, how you wish to ruin her for everybody else, so that she may only be yours.

Inhaling, you smell her arousal yet again. Daniela begs previously, her eyes squeezed shut already. You can tell, after mere moments of stimulating her clit she is close already.

Daniela whimpers at you when you pull your hand away, instead lifts her hips to help you guide her ruined panties down her smooth, soft legs. She grasps the bedsheets tightly when you tease the short, dark auburn hair between her legs.

“You smell astonishing, sweet girl”, you coo against her thigh. Still, she feels your breath on her most private part and whines in want. She aches for you, and you can see the wetness that flows out of her like honey.

“Allow me a taste, my darling”, you whisper then- no longer can you hold back from tasting this honeyed core. Her hole is tight and unfucked, all yours to stretch. And stretch it you will, rest assured.

Daniela shrieks for a moment as you lick alongside her slick slit, her cheeks burning and her head falling back on the pillow as you lick her and moan at her tastes.

Her face burns warm as you once again lean against her core, your nose brushing against her pink clit as you push your tongue inside of her.

Your hand snakes down between your own legs, beneath your panties and inside of you- you’re in high time for some relief.

Unsurprisingly Daniela moans and squeaks again in no time, gasping and squirming so much you must hold her hip still with your remaining hand. Your gentle, but firm touch turns her on all the more it seems.

You lick inside of her eagerly, tasting her and pushing your tongue in and out. Each time it comes covered with more of her juices, and each time you dive in hungrier than before.

Her hand tangles in your hair again, tugging and grasping, the other tearing the sheets blow her.

“A-Ahhahhh! My lo-ove, please! I wa-aah-AH!”

You thrust your fingers in and out of your core fast, partly already imagining them inside of her- stretching her tight cunt effortlessly, rubbing up inside of her pussy. The deprived woman is incredibly sensitive for you, so much so you know you could make her cum over and over again from simple touches.

It seems, the closer she gets to her orgasm, the more sensitive she becomes.

Daniela’s legs push over your shoulders when you move closer, her heels digging inside your back occasionally.

She can’t stay still, it seems, too eager and sensitive, now even groping her own breasts for you.

You know, you will need to tie this one down in the future. Clearly, Daniela cannot be trusted to stay still when she is so preciously needy.

Each delve of your tongue inside her honeyed core earns you a small moan and gasp, each brush of your nose against her clit has her hips jerk against the grip you have on her.

Cautiously, you tighten this grip. You don’t want to hurt the dainty creature underneath your fingertips, and it seems to do the trick because Daniela’s movement is minimised.

You curl your finger within yourself and keep thrusting them. Long and sensual licks turn to rough and needy eating out. She’s near driving your crazy with her little moans and whimpers, her tight cunt wrapped snugly around your tongue.

You want nothing but to pleasure her. To hold her down and fuck her, to show her desire among love, shown to her in the form of your kisses and care.

Daniela cums fast, and you eagerly climb onto the panting woman.

“Have a taste, my precious Daniela”, you whisper, your tongue darting across hers when your lips meet. Daniela feels you tease her soaked cunt with wet fingertips, and moans as she sucks her own taste from your tongue.

Never has she been treated this way. She assumed, but had no idea it felt this good.

You watch her pant below you for a moment, the back of your hand stroking along her pink cheek. Never have you met a woman like her. Someone this captivating and adorable, yet seductive without any effort at all. You want to treasure and ruin her at the same time, only in the best way of course.

Daniela opens her mouth and sticks her tongue eagerly when you present your fingers to her, her brows furrowing in what can only be her infamous puppy eyes. You too, it seems, are to fall for them

She moans and hums with your fingers in her mouth, your wetness on top and surrounding them.

“Let’s try something else, my pretty darling. I’ll ensure you’re all mine”, you whisper. The realisation of Daniela’s sensitive clit inspires you. You wonder- how many orgasms can you drag from her without any insertion until she begs for it?

You’re about to find out.

The Dimitrescu daughter squirms as you align your core with hers, a gasp passing her wet lips and warm breath hitting your fingers as she understands.

“Keep sucking them, princess. I want them entirely clean”, you coo. She immediately gets back to work, though wraps one leg around you to pull you closer.

With the first push of your clit against hers, she is moaning and groaning around your fingers already. You press down on her tongue and she shrieks, eyes wide as she helplessly expects you to help her get off. No, to get her off.

“Are you going to be a good girl and tell me how much you love me?”, you coo.

You know you’re feeding into her delusions, but you just can’t help it. As a demon, you are very well within right to be a little wicked. And what sweeter way of portraying this is there than to use the beautiful, naive’s woman delusion and isolation against her.

The lonely princess wants a lover so very bad after all. Very well, she has one now. And you will never let the auburn haired woman go again.

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #dianabetic6

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alleyskywalker · 7 months ago

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I finally got to writing down my thoughts/feelings/notes/reactions on S2E1 of HOTD. Under cut because spoilers.

Thie episode – but really just this show – had pacing issues, which was one of its biggest problems, very reminiscent of what entirely killed of the seeds of good or at least decent plot points in GoT S8. IDK what genius decided to cut the number of eps to 8 – or why, given that this show is very popular – but then they had this issue somewhat last season too. We are also starting to see how recklessly cutting characters comes back to bite you in the ass, at it’s just the start here.

With the episode/season paced as it is, there was no time to spend on Jace’s diplomatic endeavors. Were they strictly necessary? No, I guess, but they could have been…interesting? And helped him grow/develop/showcase to the audience as a character. Like, I actually want Jace to be a character this season, yk?

So given that, as much as I am sad that they cut my girl Sara Snow, I can’t be too mad about it because they just kinda…cut all of it for the most part.

The North intro was kinda funny tho. For a second I was so confused because I was like “is the KIT narrating this?” Cregan is very Northy-North lol. Is that sword Ice? “You, at least, have the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon.” – lol, I’m glad Cregan got this little snipe in at Jace for his Targ revisionism. Like, yea, sure “treated” aha. Also, I liked the little Decimation reference, complete with the white/black stones.

The Daemon and Rhaenys scene was good. I like that she takes no shit from his ass. Also liked her little monologue about how hearing of Laena’s death made her go into denial and she couldn’t start grieving until she actually saw her body. It feels very realistic.

This is not what I ever envisioned Alyn to look like lmao. He feels kinda too old? But on the other hand, I guess it maybe makes sense if he’s meant to be Corly’s son. Another question though: why are we getting introduced to him and not Addam first, given who the dragonrider will be? Are they…for some reason…merging the two brothers but keeping Alyn of the two???

AEGON this ep/season! Wow, this show is truly bipolar. First, they character assassinate him in S1 and now he’s so…idk, likeable isn’t really the word. But, compounded by TGC’s charm, he really, really has the potential to be a kind of sympathetic or at least fascinating character here. Excited to see this develop.

Loved seeing him as a father. Really, we needed more interaction between Aegon, Heleana and the twins, but you know. Pacing issues. The council scene with Jaehaerys was adorable – that Aegon cares to bring his son into council, even if he’s a bit young for it now, but you can really see him trying to be the father he never got to have in Viserys. And you can see how much he adores this kid.

Really, Aegon, for all his impatience and lack of true competence is so clearly trying. He’s impatient to go to war, but brashness of youth of course, plus it’s not like Aemond is not chomping at the bit as well. But Aegon can be restrained (for now) and does listen to his councilors. You can say that’s a sign of his weak will, and yea in part it probably is, but it’s not a terrible trait really? For a young, inexperienced king to listen to more seasoned counsel.

AND THE PETITIONS SCENE. He genuinely wants to be a good king to the smallfolk, acknowledges them as a necessary backbone. No, he has no idea what he’s doing, but really who’s fault was that? (Looking at you, Vizzy.) It was a great bit of comic relief, especially with TGC’s acting, but also just a great portrayal of what an idealistic but really inexperienced, naïve, and not naturally-suited young king might be like. “He came all this way.” Awww. He tried lol.

Aegon and his buddies! I love seeing him have friends. Will be interested if they play any more significant roles (like during the war) than just background chatter. The banter was cute. Very dumbass teenage boys vibes.

Dalton Greyjoy mention!

Fuck Larys. That’s all I’m gonna say on that.

Aegon and Helaena’s conversation njglgjls. He really has not way how to communicate with her and she doesn’t really know how to convey her thoughts/feelings in general. But of course she’s afraid, poor girl :( But as estranged/kinda awkward their relationship is it doesn’t seem…terrible, yk?

The Alicent and Otta scene was nice. It felt like they found some understanding and a way to work together. But I do get the sense that yea, Otto is not completely satisfied with it (maybe Alicent’s definition of “victory” seemed lacking to him, which he’s not…entirely wrong there).

Luke’s funeral montage was very touching – the music was gorgeous. (I can only hope they allow Jae the same respect next ep…) Speaking of that montage, ahhhh Alicent in the sept praying for the dead… The fact this girl prays for Vizzy ffs. And also Luke. She recognizes that he was just a teenager and even though it pains her, she affords him his respect. As Criston says, “she has a gentle heart.”

Criston and Aemond’s conversation was so great on several levels!

First, of course, Aemond and his father-that-stepped-up making battle plans was great! They really do just have such a great camaraderie and dynamic of trust. Aemond believes in Criston’s excellence; they trust each other with secretive plans and vulnerable conversation. Loved the bit of Criston putting his hand on Aemond’s shoulder briefly before leaving the room.

The “that makes her a fool” line actually comes across better in context than it did in the tailer. (Although, still, who calls their mother by her name??) For one, Aemond’s frustration is understandable, he feels misunderstood and unfairly so (given that Alicent and the small council did start this whole thing, as he points out) but also he’s probably hurt, given his history with Luke. Remember how he had wanted to make a present of Luke’s eye to Alicent? He thought she was on the same page with him on this and she’s…not. Second, Aemond actually doesn’t realize this is what might be going on with Alicent – he seems kind of surprised after Criston’s explanation, the way that line is delivered. He’s having his realization out loud but he’s also not had time to digest it yet.

Ok SO I am in no way one of those weirdos who thinks that Alicent and Criston’s relationship is all about Rhaenyra (lol). BUT she is a point of common trauma for them. What Criston describes – Rhaenyra being a “cunning spider” and having an emotional influence over Alicent and Alicent capitulating to her because of her “gentle heart” is, yes, a description of Alicent, but it’s also a description of his own relationship with Rhaenyra, at least how it had felt from his POV. He understands Alicent’s feelings here so well and can empathize with her and defend her to Aemond because he loves her, yes, but also because he’s been there too.

OK, now ALICOLE.

I mean…Am I glad it’s canon? Well, yea, I’ve been shipping it super hard. Do they deserve to have consensual sex that brings them joy? Yes! Do I think it’s “hypocrisy”? Nope, lol, not matter now much TB screech that it is, it just isn’t. I’m pretty sure I’ve rebloged posts explaining why not.

That all said…man did they not handle this well, or at least certainly not in the best, most compelling way they could have. Now, I understand that my love for asexual/courtly love romance is not something most people share, so this relationship was going get physical if it was to be canon at all. Also, this show isn’t really the right genre for a drawn out slow burn romance, necessarily. But. It IS quite a big leap to suddenly go from “implied” and “romantic tension” to…fucking on a regular basis, just because Vizzy has finally kicked the bucket. Especially with these two characters.

Now, Alicent, I can get. She’s a widow, her marital vows no longer bind her. She has also completed her duty as a wife, mother and queen (re: providing heirs). Social interest in her private life is as low as it could ever be for a woman in that society. (So, not low enough really lol but historically, widows had a lot of freedom, compared to unmarried girls and wives.) But Criston? How does this work for him? His vows are still in place and he had been so heartbroken about having broken them the first time. I mean, yes, this is a very different situation and relationship. He’s older, he’s already broken those vows once so it’s like…how much he got to lose there? He can’t go back ever to NOT being an oathbreaker. But I really would have wanted to see some more set up. We should have seen them fight their irresistible pull toward each other, until they finally broke.

I did love her putting the cloak back on him afterward. A nice little anti-parallel to how he takes it off during the sex scene with Rhaenyra.

There really, really was no need to have Helaena walk in on them having sex after B&C. There had to be better ways to establish that this was a regular thing for them now and that the whole “we can’t do this again” is just Alicent/them being in denial. A way that didn’t take away from a moment that is/was supposed to be so horrific and impactful.

I do love the contrast of Alicent and Viserys always doing it missionary style and now with Criston she’s on top!

Blood & Cheese. Oh god. I have spent the last few days so angry about this. I’ve rebloged do many posts about this that I’m not sure I want to spend to much time on it. It’s just depressing at this point. But I will say a couple of things:

Helaena’s reaction does make sense to me. I’ve seen a lot of people, including TG people, saying that it was bad, and she should have been more frantic. But, frankly, she did seem pretty panicked and frantic to me. It’s just this Helaena does not emote/externalize much. At some point it seems like she almost dissociates from the situation. It’s understandable that she picks up her daughter and runs – she can’t save her son but while the assassins are distracted, of course she takes the chance to try to save her daughter. Even the necklace thing kind of makes sense. In the books, she asks them to kill her in part because she can’t stand to make the awful choice between her two boys – she’s rather die than choose. But here she hears them talk about her being a son; when they reject her necklace they also repeat how “that’s not a son.” Only a son will do, so offering her life is pointless, but trying to outbid the person who hired them might not be.

The people (TB, lbr) shrieking about how this was Alicent and Criston’s fault are just willfully dense. If Alicent wasn’t having sex, she might have been sleeping or reading in her room or preying. There is literally nothing that implies that she would have been with Helaena if she wasn’t having sex, ffs. Also, Criston is not the only fucking kingsguard or guard. Wtf were there like no other guards idk. That’s just a plot hole/devise that looks ridiculous. But nonetheless, he 1) isn’t on duty 24/7, that’s unrealistic, and 2) is Alicent’s sworn shield, so he wouldn’t have been guarding Helaena or the kids anyway.

This is where we see that cutting Maelor was a BAD IDEA. It’s going to potentially create even more problems down the line. Who would have thought that cutting characters left and right might be an issue? /s It really diminishes the horror of Helaen’s situation and sets up this kind of unrealistic replacement choice which makes no sense because like…why would they even need her to tell them which one is the boy? It’s not that hard to feel the kids up and see which one has the right genitals, yk? I’ve seen people try to do some interesting analysis for how this scene is Thematically Relevant but nah. That’s just cope the way I used to cope with things in GoT that went wrong in the last seasons by doing metal gymnastics to try to spin them in a more palatable way for me.

But even if they fucked up on the foresight and found themselves with a situation where they needed to play this without Maelor…They could have still tried harder. For example: framing it less from the assassins’ POV and more from Helena’s, having the scene be longer, maybe in these circumstances have her try to offer her life/emote more like in the book, have Alicent actually be present too, have the rape threat against Jaehaera, have Daemon actually order Jae’s murder or at fucking least have him say “a son for a son” on screen because you KNOW the rabid part of this fanbase will act willfully blind and dumb to pretend he’s not at fault. I really think it’s that last one that makes me the most angry in the end, as the murder of a toddler is awful and horrific even without the Sophie’s choice.

And to piggy-back off that last, it’s the diminishing of the horror for TG and the whitewashing of TB as much as possible that gets to me the most, I think. They made this horrific, impactful event almost a par for the course (for the GoT/ASOIAF universe) sort of thing and with as little responsibility and plausible deniability given to TB as they could. The blatant bias (that they then have the audacity to pretend isn’t there) is infuriating.

In conclusion: there were plenty of nice things, but the disappointments really overshadowed them.

#hotd #hotd episode reactions #team green #pro team green #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #criston cole #aemond targaryen #cregan stark #otto hightower #alicole #op #spoilers

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wanderingmind867 · 3 months ago

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"Look, I'll help," he promised. "But I'm new here. You've got a lot of good people who know this camp better than I do. If we succeed on this quest, Hazel and Frank will be heroes. You could ask one of them --" "Please," Reyna said. "No one will follow a child of Pluto. There's something about that girl… rumours about where she came from…No, she won't do. As for Frank Zhang, he has a good heart, but he's hopelessly naïve and inexperienced. Besides, if the others found out about his family history at this camp --" "Family history?" "The point is, Percy, you are the real power on this quest. You are a seasoned veteran. I've seen what you can do. A son of Neptune wouldn't be my first choice, but if you return successfully from this mission, the legion might be saved. The praetorship will be yours for the taking. Together, you and I could expand the powers of Rome. We could raise an army and find the Doors of Death, crush Gaea's forces once and for all. You would find me a very helpful… friend."

Reyna, why must you be so unlikeable? I want to like you, but it's hard! Pretty much mocking Frank and Hazel, then trying to threaten and/or seduce Percy. Reyna makes me so uncomfortable. At least Octavian isn't really rude in this way, he's more just cold and pragmatic. Octavian blackmailed Hazel, but I don't remember him saying "nobody would support you because of your father", the way Reyna does. And Frank and Octavian don't seem to like each other, but at least Octavian hasn't mocked Frank as relentlessly as Reyna has. Seriously, there's something wrong with Reyna. I expect a dramatic turnaround in the later books, or else I may just end up really hating her.

#perhaps i read into this too much #but it felt uncomfortable #she's sitting there bad-mouthing hazel and frank #yet she's trying to butter percy up or something #percy jackson #pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #hoo series #heroes of olympus #the heroes of olympus #camp jupiter #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna critical #son of neptune #the son of neptune #i don't want to hate reyna!#It's just hard not to sometimes

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tearsucry · 1 year ago

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Sub step-sister Anika kayoko?

— °˖ ⊹ ꒰ 🧩 ꒱ loving your step-sister ; anika kayoko (scream vi)

#. it sounded sick to be in love with your stepsister, but some things are just undeniable and out of your control

content warning; MDNI, nsfw and dark content, female-bodied reader, stepsister! anika, step-cest, reader and anika are not actually blood-related, bottom/top dynamics, very sappy something, fingering, couch sex

a/n. I got a little sappy and loving in this, idk what triggered it but I let it flow so I hope you guys like it !!!

out of pure curiosity, that’s how it all started back a few years ago when the both of you were just inexperienced teenagers, seeking help of how to kiss, how to explore the body of the person you were drowning in love with. the tree house was the best place to do it, no parents, no neighbors being able to see, and your parents would be nothing but happy knowing that the two of you are bonding instead of fighting all the time.

this moment brings back many memories, as you stand under the now withered tree house, just gazing at the rotting wood panels and ladder, the green and yellow spots of tree mold climbing up and around the branches and the footing of the house.

and so, when inside you spot her on the couch, trying to fall asleep during her tv show as it was a filler episode you have already seen when it came out a week ago. you watch her eyes, half lidded and struggling to stay open, head tipping over from her palm like she is a second away from passing out. dilated pupils, burning fingertips, and a lungs heavy with the weight of rushed breaths, you tip toe over her side like a creep, standing over her tantalized by her beauty.

“anika…” you breath, eyes stuck on her stomach for a second before climbing up to where her crop top creased, stopping just below her breast but still revealing that she wasn’t wearing any bra under.

it takes a second for her to realize you are there, breathing over her like she is a rabbit, and you are a fox, ready to catch her, snap her neck like a dried twig. “what’s up?” she asks innocently, eyes almost shining with anticipation while she reaches onto the coffee table so she can put the remote down and make some room for you.

“do you remember out first time up in the tree house?” you ask, flushed cheeks should already be a hint at what you are talking about, but you guess that the innocent and boring episode pulled her mind out of the connection making mode. “yeah, we started fighting about what color the inside should be. I wanted flowers and pink and you wanted blue and clouds.” she laughs a little, rolling onto her back as you take a seat next to her. you chuckle alongside, wiping your forehead as you struggle to express what you really mean.

“no I meant… that first time.”

anika chuckles once again, nodding her head before pushing herself up to sit and lean against the arm rest of the couch, her hand coming to take yours and rub a few gentle circle into the back of your palm with her thumb. she hums, biting her lips before taking a deep breath but not looking at you just staring forward. it’s that you realize that she thinks about it too, once in a while if not all the time and everyday like you do. every little detail, every little move, and sound that you made when up there, so young and so naïve, so reckless.

“i think I can never forget it.” it didn’t sound eager or egoistic, it was sincere and heartfelt, coming from deep in her chest as she muttered every letter. a shiver rans down your spine, shaking your very core as you feel her touch climbing along your arm and up to you neck, cradling it ever so gently before bringing you down for a kiss.

it was odd, for so many weeks and months you found it so odd when you looked at your stepsister there wasn’t an overwhelming anger towards her but rather your heart clutched, and stomach filled with butterflies. the smiles she gave you drove you wild in every sense of the word- animalistic, crazy, drunk on lust, out of control, and overcame with happiness.

you take in her lips, the warmth of the air she gasps when the two of you pull away before embracing each other against the giant pillow on the couch. you move on top of her, knees on either side of her as one hand kept you above her and the other palmed her through her top. anika shudders, moaning into the kiss and letting you slip your tongue past her lips.

what does this mean? that was all that you could think about when you first let her kiss you, when it wasn’t just curiosity but the first time you knew exactly what to do. she needed help after her breakup with this girl- you never really liked her anyway, she was too pushy, too stand off-ish- and you helped her a lot, through out a few days, every next one riskier than the one before. you never complained, not even when you were too tired to do anything or was still cramping from the previous session.

but now you knew everything you needed to, everything that wasn’t just to please her but please you too because whatever you had now was unspoken, forbidden from everyone else but the two of you. they would never be able to understand how much you felt for each other, how much it mattered to stay by one another’s side in this cruel world that led you to each other. this wasn’t obsession or an opportunity to feel something more than the creeping feeling of mortality- it was love.

“I love you…” your mouth moves to her throat, murmuring the confession for the hundredth time as your hand finally reaches from her chest to her jean shorts to unbutton and clumsily push it down just barely revealing the heat between anika’s legs.

“I love you too.” she is more confident than you are, her words doesn’t shake like yours even when your fingers dip under her panties and start rubbing her clit in slow, tight circles.

you are still awake, still coherent, and she could see you were still thinking hard about something you want to say but cannot find the right words to say, which makes it that much harder for her not to smile. you keep kissing her skin, her hand rubbing your back, making sure you will be okay enough to tell her what you want to.

it didn't matter if you said this is a mistake, or that you cannot control this desire that is so unorthodox that if people knew none of you would have any family or friends left.

"i know i am not supposed to be saying these things to you but..." your voice chokes back a bit as your head falls onto her shoulder, sighing deeply. "i think i might actually die from wanting to be with you."

“i will never leave you.” she says, pressing a small kiss to your exposed skin. it’s the first time you hear those words come out of her mouth. it's a little shaky now, anika's skin blooming with goosebumps as your hot breath fans her ears when you move your head.

you don't waste any time now and slip your finger inside her, only just one and pump it inside her, long trusts in and out, spreading her slick over her lips. she lets out a groan, hands coming up to tug on your hair, pulling on your locks and moan out the words she has been holding in. “fuck.” she breathes, her hand tightening in your hair as you continue pumping your finger in and out, moving fast and hard, surprising her by pushing another finger inside her.

“please...” she whispers, hips bucking as her toes curl, her thighs clenching tighter around your wrist. “please don’t stop.”

the thought of having your first time in the tree house was supposed to be the last thing on your mind, following the memory of your clumsy strokes inside her. you wanted to keep this memory close to your heart, keep it forever locked inside. you couldn’t explain how much it affected you, that it still affects you and yet you don’t feel any disgust, no remorse.

"oh, god..!” she moans as you hit her sweet spot. she grips tightly onto your wrist, her nails digging deep as she arches her back. “yes. yes, fuck me...” she cries out, begging you to give her what she wants without hesitation. the way you were pounding into her was driving her insane, her body tingled as you continued, and your name fell out of her mouth like a prayer.

“shit, fuck, anika.” you choke out as you feel her grip on your hair release, arms wrapping around you so you are pressed flush against her front as she collapses against you, her body going limp as she tries to steady her breathing. your own heartbeats pick up a beat and you look up at her face, seeing her eyes closed in pleasure. you fall next to her on your side, trying to not fall off the couch as you pull your fingers out of her.

“thank you.” she mumbles, resting her head against your chest and squeezing you tightly. you lay there, listening to her breathing for a moment as you hold her, wondering what in God’s name happened to the person that used to get mad at you because you were let out at night and she wasn't, that you had to move into the new room that was promised to her, and all sorts of little things.

you wonder where her patience ended up, where her kindness took over; how did a girl who always stood tall and strong become someone who was afraid to lose someone she hated so much before? you weren’t ready to ask yet because you aren’t sure if she was gonna satisfy your need for acceptance with another "i love you." and get you to stay with her. but all these were such little things and you decided just to relish in this moment while she was in your arms, basking in the same warmth you were until something was gonna disturb you.

#— created by 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐚 ☆#scream x reader #scream x reader smut #anika kayoko x reader #anika kayoko #anika kayoko x reader smut #anika kayoko smut #anika kayoko x female reader #anika kayoko x female reader smut #scream anika x reader #scream anika x reader smut #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 smut #scream smut

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