#teardrop ornaments
Text
#vintage#pretty#etsy#christmas#mercury glass#baubles#teardrop#indent#tree decor#pink#midcentury#holidays decorations#festive#christmas ornament
14 notes
·
View notes
Photo
my take on moon spirit sokka by @peachieflame
[ID: A drawing of Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender, shown from the neck up. His hair is white and in a loose ponytail, and it comes down to his shoulders. He wears Yue’s hair ornament and a teardrop jewel earring. He is smiling with a soft expression on his face. Behind him is the moon, illuminating him. End ID./]
#sokka#moon spirit sokka#sokka fanart#yue#avatar#atla#avatar the last airbender#atla fanart#myart#long haired sokka
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
“ make me ” || tokyo rev.
synopsis: you never tested his patience before, so it came to a surprise when his kitten decided to show her claws all of the sudden. unfortunately for you, this man had time today.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. vulgar language, mentions of degradation, oral (f&m receiving), name-calling (slut, whore, baby, darling, etc.), impact-play, pussy-slapping, voyeurism, humiliation, ani’s attempt at sex-noises for reader lol i think that’s all, feel free to let me know if i missed anything!
notes: y’all don’t even wanna know how long this junk took me LMAOOO. this is my attempt at rediscovering my inner whore to write smut, so be gentle with her :’) sanzu’s was most def the shortest this time, for some reason i couldn’t go ham on his compared to the others :/ but hope you enjoy them! ♡
First of all, let’s not get it twisted.
Just because he acts like a fucking ornament half the time doesn’t negate the fact he’s still a deadly-ass individual. MIKEY has a whole country in the palm of his hand, an army of men at his disposal, and connections so deep even the police can’t touch him. In shorter terms, he was not to be played with. Many people have tried and failed, never to be heard from again.
Except you, of course. His little lap bunny, his breath of fresh air in a room full of smoke, was the only one who tried him and walked away unscathed. Well, sort of.
“Y’know better than to talk to me like that, gorgeous. Now say you’re sorry, and I might tell Sanzu to make you cum.”
You could barely register Mikey’s low voice in your ear, struggling to hold it together as said gangster between your legs curled his tongue in a way that had you keening.
Mikey has you perched upon your very throne, bare ass pressed up against his throbbing dick confined in his slacks. A large, dark wet spot was prominent there as his grip around your inner thighs kept you spread, leaving you squirming and with no choice but to make a mess all over him, the floor, and Sanzu’s face. He ate you out like a man starved, nosing at your clit whilst steadily tongue-fucking you so good you nearly sobbed when Mikey made him stop.
“Nghshit baby, please…” you croaked, head thrown back against his shoulder as your hips mindlessly chased after Sanzu. Tears streamed down your face as your body shook due to the pent up frustration you so desperately needed to release, painfully aching as your pussy clenched around nothing.
Mikey remained silent as he gently licked a teardrop off your cheek, rutting his hips up into you when you turned to claim his mouth in a searing kiss. Everyone in the room watched with fervor, enthralled with the sight they’d probably never get to see again after today. With the kind of noises you were making, they’d definitely encourage you to crash their meetings more often.
Eventually, he broke the kiss too soon for your liking, a soft whine escaping you until it’s interrupted with a sharp yelp. He briefly let go of your thigh to land a mean swat on your cunt, his executives all collectively groaning in approval at the mere sound of how wet you were.
“Such a little pain slut…” Sanzu slurred, grinning sharply.
Mikey gave you another, then another. Each with a little more bite to it than the last. You cried out in delight after every impact, body convulsing as it tried to run from the intense feeling until the pink-haired gangster had to force you still so his boss could continue to ruin you.
“M-mhmahfuck! Manjiro♡!”
“Still waiting on my fucking apology.”
“I-Ah! I’m sorry! S-So sorry, baby, won’t do it again..!”
He hummed in approval of your obedience, rewarding you by gently rubbing your puffy clit with two fingers. You shakily exhaled in relief, despite Sanzu still holding you down, your hips had a mind of their own as they moved in tandem to Mikey’s rhythm. Small whimpers escaped you, increasing in pitch when he abruptly started flicking his wrist a little faster. Your thighs shook, body seizing up as that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach began to tighten once more; you could almost taste it.
“Mikey…s-s’close…”
Your back pressed snugly against his front, body squirming as you tried grinding back on him. Mikey let out a soft grunt, then huffed in mild annoyance before giving Sanzu a pointed look from over your shoulder—Keep her still.
With an excited giggle, Sanzu quickly wrapped his arms over the tops of your hips, locking you in where you could hardly move, and wasted no time diving his tongue back into your hole. Your back arched as you graced the room with a wanton cry, eyes damn-near rolling to the back of your skull as your tongue stuck out in straight up euphoria. Mikey stopped rubbing your clit to keep you held back against him, Sanzu tightening his hold around your hips, but his pace never faltered.
Sanzu worked you like he had bills to pay, even so much as picking up where his boss left off by rubbing quick, and deliberate circles on your tender little button. You gripped his hair like your life depended on it, pathetically grinding against his face as you chanted your boyfriend’s name to the heavens. Mikey’s hands directed their attention to your tits, molding them in his palms and tugging on your nipples to further overstimulate your senses. He really wasn’t making this any easier on you...
“Baby…wanna cum…p-promise ’ll be good…! Please-uhg! Please let me..!”
Mikey planted a sweet kiss right below your ear, then whispered into it; sending chills down your spine as dread followed right behind it. “What’s the rush, hm? Who the hell said I accepted your sorry-ass apology?”
Sanzu immediately pulled away the second he felt you flutter around his tongue, his wicked grin decorated with your slick growing as you let out such a delicious wail in protest. The entire room darkly chuckled at your expense, and it was then did you actually register there being an audience in the room…
“You interrupted our important meeting with your nonsense. Only fair you make it up to all of us, don’t you agree, gorgeous? Then, maybe I’ll consider forgiving you.”
Hope you got good health insurance because this man would most def rearrange your insides, leaving you bewildered and bedridden with no one to blame but yourself.
You didn’t really take into consideration just how strong this man was, high or sober, SANZU could easily fold anybody. Why you thought you’d be the exception, you had no idea. The moment you allowed those dangerous words to leave your pretty mouth during a heated spat, expecting him not to do a thing about it, you learned quickly that anybody meant anybody; especially misbehaving brats.
“Talk your shit now, fuckin’ slut. Wanna hear you say it, c’mon. What’s the matter? Dick too good, you can’t even think? Hmm? Thought you said it was wack…”
You didn’t know where to grab—The sheets, the pillows, the goddamn lamp?? It was all so much and yet not enough, you craved more but tried to run away from it at the same time. Sanzu railed you from behind, one hand roughly gripping your left asscheek while the other kept your head to the mattress, practically mounting you as he reached toe-curling depth.
To your dismay, he couldn’t have been more correct; dick was going crazy. Sanzu had no problem making you eat your words from earlier, coaxing your battered pussy towards orgasm number three as he began swiveling his hips. “Hah-ah! Haru, Haru I-I’m…uhg! s-shit I’m-”
Sanzu cackled, then immediately mocked you.
“Y-Youyouyou, spit it the fuck out, baby.”
Your face burned in humiliation, but your desire to cum was much stronger than your pride. “I’m sorry! D-didn’t…didntmeanit! I-I mmh! Won’t be bad a-again!”
Stopping for a second to flip you on your back, teary eyes met wild, cerulean ones as they practically singed right through you. You tried to avoid them at first, but Sanzu quickly shut that down. He lightly gripped your jaw, face so close to yours you had no choice back to look at him.
Sanzu panted heavily, cool breath fanning over your sweaty, tear-stricken face. His grin turned even more sinister when he felt you clench around him from the undivided attention. You wanted him so bad, but now you could barely handle looking him in the eye.
You were just something else. And, he wouldn’t want it any other way. Even if you did intentionally piss him off, speaking out the side of your neck with insults that you both knew weren’t even half true, ain’t nothing a good dicking down couldn’t fix.
“Glad to hear it…But this is far from over, pretty. Need to make sure you learned your lesson, so keep your eyes on me. Wanna be the last thing you see before I fuck you unconscious.”
Oh, word? You wanna play that game with him? Alright, bet. But, prepare to fucking lose.
He won’t take you seriously, will most likely see your words as entertainment rather than a challenge. You weren’t actually attempting to push his buttons right now, were you? How adorable.
RAN admired that you seemed to be dedicated to the whole performance, though. The flare, the passion, you even went above and beyond by chucking a few throw-pillows at him. He played along, of course, even let the last one hit him right in the face and acted appalled.
“[Gasp] How dare you hit me in the face? Have you no heart??” Or some dramatic shit like that.
Once you appeared to be finished, Ran had the audacity to give you a slow clap while wearing his signature grin. His low gaze looked upon you with mirth, completely enamored; as if you weren’t just calling him out of his name mere seconds ago. He knew this wasn’t how you normally behaved, so something else had to have been going on. And Ran only had to take one guess as to why you’d be showing out like this.
“You done? Jeez, if you wanted me t’fuck you like some cheap whore, all you had to do was ask, angel.”
Your bodily visibly stuttered.
“I…what?” Ran chuckled, and began loosening up his tie.
“You heard me. Honestly, I’m hurt you felt the need to do all of that just so I’d put you back in your place. That’s what all of this was about, right?”
He smoothly walked past you, and made way for the couch. Plopping down with all his weight, Ran exhaled a heavy sigh once he hit the plush cushions, and stretched out his limbs. His arms rested behind the couch whilst manspreading, to the point where the bulge in his pants was thickly obvious.
You stood there, gobsmacked and strangely…touched? For him to be able to read you so easily, without even needing a second thought or some sort of hint?? Honestly, so sexy of him.
Ran whistled at you, beckoning your attention back to his empty lap. With sleepy eyes so full of lust as they devoured you from his very spot, Ran patted his thigh to entice you further; you didn’t need to be told twice.
“Ohgod yes! Right t-there!”
With the vigor of a jockey, you rode Ran’s dick like it was your only life’s purpose, arms wrapped around him so tight it’s a miracle you weren’t borderline strangling him; but he didn’t mind. He found your desperation to be amusing, and it’s not like he wasn’t enjoying the hell out of himself, too.
His large hands held the globes of your ass, kneading and smacking at the flesh with earnest desire as he littered your neck with hickies to keep from making too many embarrassing noises. Ran allowed you to set the pace, only bucking upward when he felt he couldn’t control himself, or if he wanted to get a particular reaction out of you. When you started swirling your hips to spell his fucking name, man ‘bout busted right then and there.
He pulled back from your neck with a fervent groan, eyes fluttering as his grip on you tightened. Ran smugly grinned at your fucked out expression, juggling between watching your face or your tits as they bounced every time you came crashing back down.
“Goddamn, angel. If I knew…you needed it this bad…would’ve never gone t’work,” He said, breathlessly. It took a minute for his words to register, but once they did you pouted at him.
“…not ‘posed to c-call me that…”
Ran huffed out another laugh. “Oh, that’s right. Almost forgot, my bad.”
He rolled his hips up into you suddenly, bumping the special spot that made you clench up real nice. He repeatedly aimed for it, marveling in the cute, little noises you made. Ran’s hands roamed all over you, leaving behind warmth until it abruptly disappeared, taking refuge behind his head as he leaned back comfortably on the couch, stopping his movement altogether.
And just like a switch…Ran no longer looked amused.
“That means you won’t get to cum until you’ve earned it. Cheap whores don’t get special treatment. So make yourself fuckin’ useful before I get bored.”
Like a ticking time bomb, with a mullet.
RINDOU prided himself in being a very patient man. Well, more patient than most. His ability to mask even the tiniest emotion grew to be one of his greatest assets and your least favorite quality about him, especially when all you wanted was a reaction. Very little phased the gangster, needles to say, he had quite a high tolerance for bullshit. So, one could imagine how much effort it took to get under his skin.
But, he was still human, after all. Even Rindou could only handle so much bullshit until it eventually got to him, making him act out of character.
On one particular day, Rindou didn’t know what it was, but somehow the universe definitely had it out for him. Nothing seemed to be going his way, like he had been completely thrown off his rhythm. He stepped in dog shit on his way to work, burnt his tongue from his coffee, even spilled some on his new dress pants, and not to mention almost got fucking stabbed during a meeting with “potential investors” gone wrong. Sure, they missed by an inch, and instantly faced the repercussions, but still.
Was it too much to catch a single break? Apparently so.
Rindou figured winding down at some hole-in-the-wall joint after work would be a perfect way for him to loosen up. He also figured he’d bring you along as well; you always were his number one stress reliever. To his dismay, today you were anything but.
Not only did you show up with an attitude, you barely even acknowledged him, which completely threw him off guard. Normally, you’d jump in his lap and whine about how much you missed him, easing away that tension in his body with your honey-coated words and caresses. But now, it was like taking a shot of vinegar. You also had the nerve to entertain any loser who wanted to shoot their shot. Granted, all it took to scare them off was for them to see Rindou glaring hard as hell from across the room, but that was far from the issue.
“Babe, c’mon, don’t do this to me, I’m fucking tired-”
“Who...”
He raised a brow, “What? I said I’m-”
“…asked?”
He was exhausted. You were supposed to be his peace in all of the nonsense he had to deal with, and it didn’t help that you were dressed like a full course meal he couldn’t even enjoy. You had to be doing this on purpose…
Rindou watched as guy number four tried to spit game, his corny-ass giving the felon second-hand embarrassment; he had about enough. All he wanted was to get wasted with his girl in his lap, was that really too much to ask?
After downing the last of his drink and throwing the glass on the ground, shattering it, the younger Haitani practically bum-rushed you. Wasting no time in shoving a large hand in the random’s face, Rindou sent him flying backwards into the nearest table and landing with a resounding crash.
“Holy shit! Rin!” You jumped in surprise, about to give him more attitude no doubt, but didn’t have time to before your boyfriend effortlessly threw you over his shoulder, heading towards the nearest bathroom for some much needed privacy.
You wanted a reaction? You got it.
“Holyshit, R-Rin ♡!”
Your thigh lifted to rest on top of the sink, back arched like the one in St. Louis while Rindou put his all into blowing it out. With a tight grip in your hair and another around your waist, the gangster practically growled from the depths of his stomach as he took out all of today’s frustration on your poor, little bratty pussy.
“This what you wanted? Huh?” He panted. You could barely hold a thought together, let alone form an answer. He didn’t take too kindly to being ignored; you’d done that quite enough for one night. “Answer me, or I’ll fuckin’ stop.”
“Yesyes p-please, please don’t stop..!”
Rindou merely kissed his teeth in annoyance. Despite your best efforts in begging like a bitch in heat, it wasn’t enough to convince the man behind you to keep up his momentum. Slowly but steadily, he came to a stop, pulling out of your drooling cunt altogether to tease the tip around your outer lips. A broken whine escaped you, hips moving on their accord as they tried to slip him back in, but that only earned you a sharp tug on your hair.
“Mm! W-Wait no no, Rin please!”
Rindou snickered, leaning down to nip at your ear before hissing into it. “As if it’d be that easy. After all the shit you pulled tonight, you really think you deserve to cum?”
You whimpered. “B-Baby, please, I’m sorry-”
“Nah, too late for that sorry shit. I’ll stick it back in when I goddamn feel like it. And I think it’s time you learned a little patience.”
A cruel one, aren’t ya? Messing with such a sweetheart? But, y’know what they say about the ones who’re classy in the streets—Total freak in the sheets. Wouldn’t hurt to see just how far you could test the limit on that sweet side of KAKUCHO.
You weren’t supposed to be acting like those bastards he deals with on a daily basis, so harsh and quick to cut deep with words, lashing out at him over something so trivial—It just wasn’t you.
What happened to his darling princess, who welcomed him with warmth comparable to the sun? Where had his loving and caring partner gone? Your behavior was like thorns in his tender heart, filling him with confusion and sorrow. The two of you never argued like this before, having promised each other to be completely transparent in order to avoid misunderstandings.
“My love, please. If I’ve wronged you in some way just tell me, and I’ll fix it. This isn’t getting us anywhere, and I don’t wish to fight with you-”
“Oh, Christ, do I seriously need to spell it out for you? For someone who’s accomplished so much, it’s embarrassing to watch you struggle to understand so little.”
Kakucho’s expression resembled that of a kicked puppy from your snide comment. How could you not see how irrational you were being? The clock on the wall along with his bleeding heart were the only sounds he could focus on until… he noticed something else that was unusual.
Since this whole argument started, you’d been holding back a grin. Though you tried very hard to remain inconsolable, you failed miserably under his observant stare.
You thought…this was funny?
The ache in your wrists wasn’t anything you’d experienced before, his tie must’ve been made out of spider-silk or something because no matter how much you wiggled, the knot refused to budge. However, even if it did, the reoccurring swat to your ass halted any attempt at escaping.
Kakucho had you bent over, your skirt shoved all the way up your midriff to expose your pantyless bottom half to the seething man above you. With your hands bound behind your back, you had no choice but to let your head hang to the floor as he balanced you across his lap. The position rendered you dizzy, but the blood rushing to your head added on to the stinging pleasure he bestowed with every swing of his hand.
“Ah~ ♡!ohfuck Kakuch-oh!”
Another tasteful smack, this one harder than the last, but it burned so good. You were practically drooling, a delirious smile painted on your face with tears trickling down your cheeks. In your nether regions, the same could be said about your weeping cunt. Kakucho scoffed, giving your ass another smack, then letting his pinky and ring-finger slip in between your lips.
He groaned, deeply. You were soaked.
“Naughty little thing,” he prodded at your entrance, earning a soft moan from you. “Saying all those mean things, just so I’d get mean back, hmm?”
You wiggled your ass, impatiently. His long, thick fingers continued to play around outside where you needed him most. Kakucho was well aware, but refused to yield. After the stunt you pulled, you’d better be grateful you were even getting that much.
THWACK!
“Ahk!” You squeaked, that one catching you off guard. Kakucho clicked his tongue.
“Now you don’t wanna run your mouth? You had so much to say a minute ago, darling, don’t hold back on me now.”
You shivered, his voice sounding an octave lower than normal as he grew increasingly more impatient with you. This was a complete contrast to the Kakucho you were used to, the thrill of not knowing how far he’d go made you clench your thighs together. However, before you know it, you’re being lifted up and tossed upon your shared bed. Landing with a soft grunt and a bounce, you at first gave yourself a moment to orient your surroundings now that the blood no longer rushed to your head; that sudden movement didn’t help with your dizziness.
After a brief moment had passed, you then struggled to roll on your back to face the manhandler himself, but luckily he was nice enough to help.
By snatching your ankles, Kakucho yanked you down to the edge of the bed and sat you upwards. You winced, ass stinging like hell, but you quickly got over it once you realized the position he had you in. Noticing he unbuckled his pants, Kakucho stood before you at his full height, palming himself before gripping the base of his hard dick through his boxer briefs, as if he were threatening you with a concealed weapon; and he absolutely was.
You slowly looked up at him, meeting his dual-colored eyes. You gulped. There was nothing sweet about them.
“Don’t wanna talk? Fine. We’ll find other uses for that filthy mouth of yours.”
© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.
likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#🍁wasabi#tokyo rev#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev smut#tr smut#mikey#sanzu#ran#rindou#kakucho#bonten#bonten smut#tokyorev x reader#bonten x reader
643 notes
·
View notes
Text
Christmas Lights. Dave York x f! reader!
Summary: Reader is suffering from anxiety and holiday stress, and Dave helps take her mind off of things.
Warnings: Smut. Established relationship. Oral (f! receiving), P in V sex, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial/Delay, Ass Slapping, Dave palms himself, Dirty Talk, One use of the word slut, Mentions of anxiety and stress.
Word Count: 1.9ish. Just below.
A/N: this wasn’t beta read and I just yeeted it out. It took me an hour to write so it’s not great lol. But I saw a photo which I’ll post at the bottom of the fic that inspired this.
Reader has no physical discriptors, but has hair long enough to be pulled into a ponytail.
You couldn’t sleep, your mind was in overdrive as the usual holiday panic started to set in, on top of the inescapable anxiety that had seen you overwhelmed for weeks.
Sneaking out of bed and down the stairs, you sighed at the boxes of Christmas decorations that had been stacked high a few days before.
The motivation to put them up had refused to enter your body, but as the clock ticked just after 3AM, you figured that starting now would at least pass the time, and one of your many jobs would be ticked off your seemingly never ending to-do list.
**
The tree finally stood in the corner of the room, flashing with the pre-attached lights but void of any ornaments. You sat quietly in front of the tree, untangling the web of flashing Christmas lights that would eventually sit on top of the fireplace.
It eventually became clear that you could no longer ignore the steady stream of tears that had started to flood your cheeks and drip onto the hardwood floor. The reflection of the flashing lights becoming fuzzier and fuzzier as your vision had continued to blur with every teardrop.
“Tell me what you need.” A voice demanded from behind you. You hadn’t heard him enter the room and a shiver ran down your spine as the raspy tone of his voice hit your ears.
You squeezed your eyes shut and wiped the fresh tears from your face and gently shook your head, all words refusing to fall from your lips.
He took a few steps until he was in front of you and dropped to his knees, gently taking your face in his hands. “Tell me what you need.” He repeated.
“I need you to make me forget.” You whispered quietly, your chin trembling in his hand.
Slowly he pulled you closer to him, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss as he began to pull on your silk night dress, letting the straps fall off your shoulders and the slinky material slip down your body with ease.
“Dave,” you murmured against his lips, your hands settling on his chest as his hands grabbed greedily at your body.
“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?” He asked, his lips still brushing against yours as he refused to pull away.
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, I need you to trust me.”
“Always. With my life.”
Without another word he took the string of lights from your hand, a smirk forming across his face before a light kiss was pressed to your forehead.
“Stay still.” He ordered, before moving behind you. You took a deep inhale and focused on the flashing lights. You mumbled his name as he unhooked your bra and then let you pull it off and drop it on the floor. “Mhm. No panties. Good girl.”
You keened at his praise, allowing yourself to exhale a little as he gently pulled your hair back, tying it with the pretty ribbon that he had just removed from your wrist. “My good girl.”
“All yours.”
He picked up your left foot, beginning to slowly massage soft circles against your ankle before letting it fall onto his lap, your toes briefly rubbing against his erection. Still focusing on the tree, you ignored the noise from behind you, unaware what was about to come.
After what felt like an eternity, he gently picked up your foot again and started to wrap the Christmas lights around your ankle before putting it down and repeating the same on your other leg.
“Beautiful,” he growled from behind you. “Lay down.”
You did as he said, resting your weight on your elbows as he admired the sight in front of him. Both of your feet had been restrained to a different object, so that your legs were spread wide enough that he could see the way your arousal glistened against the flickering lights.
“You want to forget, huh? You want me to push every thought out of that pretty little head, my love?” He rambled from behind you, while palming at his painfully hard cock.
“Yes, please,” you begged in response. Needing to feel that wave of comfort that only crashes through you when he overwhelms and plays your body in a way that only he knows.
After a few minutes of gentle teasing, you heard him crawl towards you. His fingers wrapped against your hips as he brought you up on all fours. His hands slid down and settled on your thighs, he dipped his tongue out of his mouth and wet his lips as he admired the way you were dripping for him, smirking as you writhed around desperately seeking out his touch.
You almost screamed out when his tongue finally swiped through your folds, the warm heat of his mouth igniting something primal inside of you. You whined his name, waiting impatiently for him to repeat the action, and rolling your eyes as he chuckled from behind you.
“You know you should always be careful what you wish for, my love.” He growled, before burying his face against your folds. Dragging his tongue up and down and tasting every part of you. One of his hands left your thighs and he brought it to your quivering cunt, his thumb then beginning to draw perfect circles against your clit as he pressed his tongue deep inside of you. Feeling your walls contract against his tongue he groaned, circling your clit a little faster and pulling the first of many orgasms from you.
“You didn’t wake me up,” he said with a tut, after moving his face away from your core. “Snuck out of bed and left me all alone. That wasn’t very nice, baby.” He whispered. “I hate waking up and you not being there.”
The second his hand landed softly on the flesh of your ass, you knew what was coming. The shiver of anticipation that ran through your body made him chuckle, and within a few seconds he pulled his hand away and it came back down with a sharp slap. “Oooh, Dave.” You called out pathetically in response, and he laughed harder. Repeating the action again and then gently rubbing against your welting flesh.
“Again.” You begged, unable to pretend that you didn’t love the sting that briefly overwhelmed your senses.
“Slut!” He growled, before bringing his hand down again, this time hitting against your softest flesh.
In response your body immediately tried to pull away but the Christmas lights kept you in place, and he responded with a growl, before moving up and whispering in your ear. “Color?”
“Green.” You choked out, as your eyes burned with a different kind of tears, the ones that you didn’t mind blurring your vision.
“Good girl… because I’m just getting started, baby.”
**
You felt exhausted, every bone in your body ached as he slammed his hips against you. “Take it.” He grunted. “Fucking take it all.” You had lost count of the amount of times he had made you cum and the amount of times that he had built you up just to let it fall away. Loving the way you whimpered his name in response as he refused to let you fall over that delicious edge.
And now he had you exactly how he wanted you, taking his cock hard and fast. Groaning as your pussy contracted around him, praising you for still being ‘really fucking tight’ even after he had stretched you open.
With a slight shift of position, he chuckled and made sure that the angle he was thrusting inside of you would hit that delicious spot with every sharp snap of his hips.
“Dave,” you whimpered against the floor, now unable to keep yourself up on your elbows due to the lack of energy. Another orgasm threatening to flood through you and ravage your exhausted body.
“I know, baby,” he cooed, still snapping his hips and notching against that little bit of paradise. “You can take it, my love,” he grunted, as his knuckles gently rubbed up and down against your spine. “But you can give me one more.”
He had one arm wrapped around your waist, keeping your bottom half raised and he moved the other back down to grip on your hip, pulling you back down his throbbing cock as he mumbled his filth and fucked himself into you.
It hit you like a truck. It ravished through your body, as fireworks began to explode behind your eyes. Every thought was of pleasure or of him. Every single one of your senses, consumed by him.
Taste. The taste of his fingers that he had pushed into your mouth multiple times lingered on your tongue. His skin: salty and mixed with a little bit of your sweetness.
Touch. You could feel his hands everywhere. The marks that he had littered your body with still tingling and stinging.
Smell. The smell of sex and sweat filled the air, mixed with the intoxicating scent that always emanated from him. It flooded your nose and it made you feel completely safe.
Sound. Each groan, each filthy moan and hissed piece of praise replayed in your head over and over. The rasp of his voice made your clit pulsate and your pussy bottom out.
Sight. He was behind you, taking you from behind, but he was all you could see. In your mind you could see those gorgeous dark brown eyes, you could feel them burning into yours and that feeling of never wanting to look away made your heart feel warm.
He worked you throughout your high, continuing that same pace and holding you up as you quietly murmured his name.
And then, with the sweetest whimper of his name, he couldn’t hold on any longer. He groaned your name and his cock began to pulse and with every thrust he coated your walls with his pleasure. Only pulling out when he was milked dry.
You mumbled his name once more, feeling his eyes on you. Knowing how much he loved to watch his cum drip from your little hole, just to push it back in.
He finally let go of your hips, after gently lowering you down on the floor. “Good girl.” He praised once more, before moving down and beginning to unwrap the still flickering lights from both of your ankles.
“These are pretty,” he murmured to you, after switching them off and placing them to one side. Still behind you Dave reached over and pulled the large soft throw from the sofa and covered you with it before moving up and laying down beside you.
“Thank you.” You said against his warm skin as he pulled you onto his chest, letting you snuggle into him as the warm light of the Christmas tree lights still glowed from behind you both.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he said, before pressing his lips to your scalp. “I can help finish decorating in the morning.”
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#dave york x you#dave york x ofc#the equalizer#the equalizer 2#the equalizer 2 fanfiction#my fanfiction#my fanfic#dave york smut#dave york imagine
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
"The weight deck, where we exercise at the Washington State Penitentiary, is not hospitable to vegetation. Sunbaked gravel and decades of dumbbells dropped from prisoners’ hands make it the last place one would imagine new life to spring up.
But one day I spotted an unusual-looking plant growing in the middle of the razor wire-topped cage where the guys work out. It was August, the middle of a miserable heat wave. The plant had teardrop-shaped leaves, which were green with a purplish hue, and it sprouted up about 1 foot above the gravel. It was hard to tell if it was a weed or a tree or some other kind of plant.
...Groot, as a pen pal lovingly named it, has been with me since August 2022 and was recently transplanted into a bigger pot. It’s become a recognized face around these parts, and corrections staff haven’t seemed to mind. Groot has even added three more branches since being transplanted. It definitely looks like a small tree. Over the holidays I decorated Groot with ornaments and a cross on top. I placed three presents under the tree. There wasn’t anything in the presents; I just wanted to create some Christmas spirit.
My unit supervisor asked me recently: “What are you going to do when it gets too big for your house?”
I guess I’ll have to figure out how to smuggle in a saw next."
-How I Smuggled a Plant Into My Prison Cell by Jeffery Mckee
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lucid lovers, me and you
A deal of matchless value
[Id: a digital painting of Shadowheart from Baldur’s Gate 3. She is fair skinned with dark brows and green eyes, her dark brown hair is worn in a high braid and blunt bangs. There is a scar across one of her cheeks, and she has pointy ears. She wears an empire-waisted dark teal dress with silver-purple trim and a low neckline. She has a silver hair ornament, teardrop earrings, and a small bead necklace. The background is dark blue with teal light. End id]
#my art#clip studio#disabled artist#bg3#bg3 fanart#bg3 shadowheart#shadowheart#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#digital painting#extremely unoriginal pose and composition but i just wanted something simple#the dress is based off a costume audrey hepburn wears in war and peace. i found it online and thought it might fit
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teardrop on the Fire is a year old! I always regretted not making a banner for it, so now I have!
I wanted to reshare this fic because it was a turning point when I was finding my way. It was also the start of me writing in the vignette-timeline-of-events format, which I really enjoy. Thank you to everyone who has read, and to those who might read it before of this post, I hope you like it!
Three days after moving into the loft, TK is left alone for the first time while Carlos is at work. Wandering around, TK discovers an unsent birthday card with a message in it – which Carlos had written for him during their breakup…
He’s at the loft. Sunset through the west-facing windows fills the central living space with amber light. Discarded by the door there’s two large grey suitcases and a couple of boxes. He’s only acquired a limited selection of essentials since the house fire, but tomorrow he’s going thrifting – he’s letting himself look forward to it. Ideally, he wants to combine modern-eclectic with Tejano antique gems.
Carlos stands in the vast area of the main living space, where the sunset strikes most warmly. He tries to imagine a rug, a couch, lamps, art and ornaments, the dimensions of everything. And then he starts to cry. Slow tears slide down his face. He ignores them, lets them fall. Just stares into the emptiest place he’s ever been.
Read on Ao3
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
tearjerker, heartbreaker
It would figure that these hoity-toity shits would host a party like this. Beowolf arrives on the scene as he always does - fifteen minutes late, flask in hand, immaculately dressed (NOTE: as of this post Beowolf is now shirtless, as of this post he is wearing a neckerchief, and as of this post he is wearing @hermidetta's capelet), and ready to get shit going.
You'll find him making his way around the event, schmoozing, offering laughs and stories (and a drink or two, if he feels you need the social lubricant), and generally out to have a good time. If you ask him nicely he might even let you see the delicate teardrop ornaments he's pinned over his heart.
[WEEK ONE PROMPTS]
[WEEK TWO PROMPTS]
[WEEK THREE PROMPTS]
Brooches Collected:
Black feather - Hilda, Quan
White feather - Naesala, Seliph
String of pearls - Eliwood, Lambert
Small bell - Nephenee, Isadora, Ratatoskr
Teardrop crystal - Ethlyn, Andrei, Bernadetta
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wedding time
Trancript
Liam "I now Pronounce you Circle and Triangle"
Transcript Over
HEHEH
Here's Bill and Celeste's makeshift wedding, Liam was the officiator/Best man/ and Brides maid.
Celeste somehow got all the lines to wear bowties.
And the pair exchanged the Circle Bracelet and the Triangle Band.
Bill made the teardrop ornament on his hat himself.
#bill cipher#gravity falls#flatland oc#oc#art#flatland#oc art#oc x canon#gravity falls oc#I LOVE SHADING#TAKE MY BLORBOS
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
New research suggests humans lived in South America at the same time as now extinct giant sloths, bolstering evidence that people arrived in the Americas earlier than once thought.
Scientists analyzed triangular and teardrop-shaped pendants made of bony material from the sloths. They concluded that the carved and polished shapes and drilled holes were the work of deliberate craftsmanship.
Dating of the ornaments and sediment at the Brazil site where they were found points to an age of 25,000-27,000 years ago, the researchers reported. That’s several thousand years before some earlier theories had suggested the first people arrived in the Americas, after migrating out from Africa and then Eurasia.
This is not only several thousands years ago, this is 5000-7000 years ago before even the oldest, most controversial evidences of Human presence in America. This is huge.
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Things We Find in the Minster
Big churches, by and large, do very little for me. Don’t mistake me, the architecture is astouding given the time so many of them were built in, and the sheer aesthetic brilliance of Catholic (and “Catholic-lite,” though I’m sure somewhere a C of E congregant just died at the utterance) buildings and artifacts is breahtaking, but given my time freely, it is rare that I will opt to gawk at a large building with colored panes in the windows*.
But this, in many respects, not my vacation, but my mother’s, and the York Minster was one of the small handful of things she directly indicated as a thing she’d like to do, and so, here we were, looking at a very old and very large building with many very fancy details. This sounds very dismissive, but it isn’t, in the same way that I would expect any given person to describe a tasting menu at a Michelin star just, “eating two bites of a lot of things but it takes three hours at least”. It’s not wrong, when you arent’ the audience.
Anyhow, I have long been a believer that mostly only boring people are bored, or find things totally irreedeemable. There are a dozen games you can play with yourself, to force yourself to engage with a place on your own level, to make it have meaning to you. I determined myself to do that, to find the human at the core of it all, which is generally how things tend to appeal to me.
Luckily, I actually didn’t have to work hard at all. To say I worked at it would be giving me more credit than I am due.
Because the minster had Christmas trees, sponsored or decorated or both by local businesses and schools, each decorated a different way. Little paper plate doves by children, paper chains by travel agencies, bright brass ornaments from a local metalworks. And then my eyes fell on a simple tree with a few baubles and lights, but mostly a huge number of tags over the entire thing, with writing on them.
It was from a funeral home.
My mother loves me very much, and from time to time I also annoy her, in the way that love often allows another person to do, and I think I was tap-dancing on her last nerve as I sat there for twenty minutes, reading these tags that people had written to their loved ones now gone.
What do we confess to the dead? What do we wish for them? What can you to someone that goes on a gift tag, that might be read by others, but, by my measure, will mostly be passed by? What would you say about the person you loved to the strange American picking through the boughs?
“I hope they have whisky up there, Dad.” “We went to the Christmas fair without you, and it felt wrong.” “I’m sorry I didn’t come home last Christmas.” “I don’t know if I’ll ever love Christmas again.” “I put up the lights this year, because you would want me to.” “I promise to drink two mulled wines this year.” “I’ll lay a place at the table.”
“I miss you.”
I filed all these little things away, these sentences or two that hold a lifetime of love and pain and expectation. These moments that show what a teardrop migt look like in the glow of a Christmas light.
What would I say, if I could say something to any of them? Would I? Could I be so brave as to leave that bare sentence out for anyone in the world to read? I knew what I would say, but not if I had the strength to say it.
I had a moment where I felt my heart in my throat, and pulled back to make a very intense study of a stained glass Jesus in the small chapel behind me. So I suppose the answer is no--I am, as ever, an emotional coward.
I didn’t want to leave that little tree. I wanted to read it again, I wanted these people to know someone heard them, and felt that with them, if only for a moment. That they weren’t alone in this, that these things we confess to the dead are the most human thing of all, that death never feels settled no matter how long they’re gone, but also that it stops feeling quite so wrong to do something, or not do something, sometimes both at the same time. Summer comes. It stops being so dark.
All the monuments to queens and saints could not move me as much as the sad little tree that barely met my height.
The benefit of remembering things in the strange and scattered way I do, with moments of intense clarity, is that I rarely worry about forgetting the feeling of a place. I will remember this tree, and the words they said. I don’t know if there is a way the people these messages were meant for can ever hear them, but I know they did not go out into the world for nothing. I, and the writers, were together for a moment. They sat across from me and told me an open secret.
But Mom wanted to see the Roman crypt. We live our lives on the move. We touch each other through these words like the tip of a finger to a flame, drawn back quickly but the feeling remains. I clipped down the stairs to see some old rocks, because sometimes you put up the Christmas lights out of love, even if you don’t like them.
*This is, actually, one of the reasons I truly love tour guides, is, if you find someone passionate about the time or space, they can make things you might not care about fantastically interesting to you. I was more interested in the Minster itself in the mere moments I overheard the guide speaking to schoolchildren than I was at any of the other spectacle.
PS I bet this is not the kind of travel writing fucking anyone signs up for and I suppose for that I apologize. This is, in truth, the way I see the world, and it doesn’t do much to inform you about a place. York is a very neat city, with extreme “Ye Olde Angland” vibes, and the people in York are so kind that if you get lost, all you probably need to do is identify a Yorkshire accent and they will probably fucking TAKE you to your hotel. We had like three people ask what our bus stop was, or where we were going, because they were worried we wouldn’t know where to get off. The Minster is a very impressively large church and they are doing some fantastic restoration there. My favorite place in York was the Sam Smith’s pub where we got to having a whole conversation with this gal and her friends, one of whom, she warned us, was, “a total chav but harmless” and she actually knew where Montana was, and as we were all chatting, told one of her friends, “oh you could fit the whole country in it” so I have no idea why she knows that but I was impressed, first time I’ve encountered someone who both knew where it was and the fucking SCALE of it. She was great, her friends were fun, I was annoyed and embarrassed by the older American couple in our “pub pod” for lack of a better word that didn’t seem to want to engage with their warmth and friendliness. (But it gave us all a good topic of conversation about where in America is like North England and where is like South after they left ahaha)
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 11: Leo + Tree decorating
Summary: After Slinter agrees to let you teach the turtles about American Christmas traditions, you enlist the help of Leo to set up the tree.
Warnings: Pure fluff
"Is this really necessary?" Leo whined, hauling the tree you'd bought through the door. "It seems super excessive to go out, chop down a tree, bring it home and decorate it just to put presents under and watch it die."
"Why do you always have to make everything sound aweful?" You scolded lightly. "It's really your worst trait."
"Can you blame me? You dragged me out to the middle of nowhere, in the cold just for this. Turtles get cranky when they're cold."
"Stop whining," you sighed, momentarily pinching the bridge of your nose. "It'll be pretty when it's all finished."
-----
You delicately presented him with a box, handling it with the utmost care, and urging him to do the same. "These are really old, they were my Grandma's." You explained, flipping open the lid to reveal the most astonishing crystal clear glass ornament set to ever see the light of day. "Each piece was hand crafted by my Granddad specifically for her, now this set is a family heirloom." Gingerly, you set the box down, lifting a teardrop shaped bulb, decorated with glitter and held it to the light.
Leo couldn't help but marvel at the way the multicolored, refracted light danced around the corner, contrasting with the soft glow of the stringed lights on the tree. "It's so pretty..." He mumbled, before seemingly snapping out of the trance it put him under. "And it doesn't belong here. You know these will just get broken down here."
You sighed at his concern. "I know it's a bad idea," you confessed. "I know Mikey will probably bump the tree and break them, but..." You trailer with a soft smile. "Grandma always said these were meant to be shared, so she never would put them out unless she we're having family over for Christmas."
"What does that go to do with it?" He cocked a brow, hand on his hip. You wished he could understand the love put into these ornaments the way you did. Now that you were living at the lair, you felt the need to share these with your new family.
"Well...I just wanted you all to enjoy them. Since you're kind of like my family now."
His eyes softened as he gently wrapped you in his arms, remembering all you'd lost since meeting them. "You're right, I'm sorry (Y/N)."
Against his plastron, you smiled sadly. "We don't have to set them out." You sighed. "It'd be better not to."
"No, we're doing it." He smiled, pushing you away to hold you at arm's length. "We'll all just have to be careful."
You beamed, looking up at him happily. "Leo are you sure?"
"Positive." He answered, gently lifting on and hanging it on a branch securely to minimize the risk of it falling off.
"Thank you..." You gushed, doing the same.
"Of course. Merry Christmas (Y/N)."
"Merry Christmas, Leo."
Taglist: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @witchofthenorthstar @sharpwindow @helpyaw @camillahorne26 @fyreball66
Note: sorry for not tagging everyone, I did this in 15 mins on my lunch break at work on my phone and didn't have access to my list!
#tmnt#tmnt 2012#tmnt x reader#tmnt 2012 x reader#leonardo x reader#leo tmnt#tmnt leo x reader#lemon's 12 days of christmas
195 notes
·
View notes
Text
A circlet but not a crown, gold traded in place of the silver ornaments given to you by your friends; while the mark of Daein does not yet adorn your head the dress you wear is a lighter approximation of what you would wear at your own ball.
Lighter in a fabric, but not in color; ruffles of black beneath bronze and gold pleats. No longer is dancing so fluid, so effortless.
You are not quite queen, but you feel the title; still, you carry at as you always have with pride. A king's cape in red is that of your partner's, so for yourself you wear a sleek garb of dawn.
The dance begins again.
ACCEPTING
[Week 1 Prompts]
[Week 2 Prompts]
BROOCHES:
black feather - to be given out
white feather -
string of pearls - nasir, ishtar
small bell -
teardrop crystal -
Daein style Royal Dress- One of many prototypes sent to Micaiah over her years at the officers academy. The sparse brown and black are suited to your country as the snow to its cliffs; the ruffled appearance was requested on Micaiah's behalf.
There is no need to look quite so threatening yet!
#toaball2024#//the cloak linked is an approximation but it gonna be RED obv#//so yes she's wearing an approximation of radiant queen or cipher art#//btw not collecting myself but excited to have some short threads#//very taken by how spartan daein fashion is.... got me thinking comms#ooc
9 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Now, I’m no Atelier Emily, but I did my best layman’s Google Fu and came up some potential meanings behind the flower selections in the Magical Destroyers OP. It seems the theme is poisonous plants, especially with ties to “death” in literature.
Anarchy - I want to say this is aconitum, given the petals’ deep hue and weird shapes, as well as the pronged leaves. Although, most of the pictures I’ve seen of aconitum are purple or indigo, rather than deep blue. Aconitum is so famously poisonous, it’s the poison of choice in literature, mythology, and history. It has a whole host of names like “monkshood” or “queen of poisons” or perhaps most well-known-- “wolf’s bane”.
Blue - This one will be obvious for those in the weeb sphere. Red spider lilies represent “last goodbyes”, as in “death”, and their distinctive appearance means you’ll be seeing it here and there especially in anime; a sort of visual Dies Irae. Like the other flowers shown here, spider lilies are poisonous.
Pink - There are a number of white compound flowers this could be, such as the more well-known Queen’s Lace, but if we understand the theme, this is almost assuredly poison hemlock. It’s hemlock. It’s poisonous. The classical Greek philosopher Socrates was executed by being forced to drink poison hemlock.
Slayer - This interesting because what she’s holding is clearly NOT a flower, it’s a branch of berries, which is like, post-flowering I guess. Regardless, she’s the odd one out in many other aspects, like the single teardrop tattoo, the heterochromia, the teardrop replaced by a cross in her civilian outfit, the starting as a villain, etc. It looks like the plant could be a Japanese Skimmia (Latinization of: ミヤマシキミ, 深山樒, miyama shikimi), a favored ornamental shrub for gardens and parks, due to its evergreen and fragrance. Female shrubs grow bright red berries, which grow in peace due to their poison.
Otaku Hero - You’d think this would just be daisies or something, but alas, this is where my Google Fu fails me. Daisies don’t have so few petals, it seems? Otaku Hero’s flowers very deliberately have five white petals and a yellow center, but the closest thing I can find is the wood sorrel, which is a bit too small for what’s portrayed in the image. Wood sorrel, or sourgrass, is considered a weed and is edible. The Oxalis genus is so common, it can be found around the world. Be it daisies or sourgrass, the theme for him seems to be weeds, as the flowers appear as if they were growing out of him.
Another thing to note: some of the girls might look to simply be holding these poisonous plants to pose with. Closer inspection shows that they all are actually holding them in their mouths, that is, if the plants are not outright growing out of them. Plants like the wolf’s bane are toxic even to touch, let alone ingest.
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Gift of Eternal Gratitude
Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Pairing: Napoloen Bonaparte x f!MC
Warnings: Pregnancy
Written by: @voltage-vixen
The crisp notes of the holiday jazz music danced throughout the room, accompanied by the cackles of the roaring fire from the mantle. Coupled with the assortment of Christmas embellishments arranged around the mansion, the ambience was set and fitting for the festivities of the day. After hours upon hours of searching for the perfect Christmas tree, they were able to finally select one that suited the couple’s desire in longing for one that radiated warmth and coziness, while simultaneously indulging in a taste of sophistication. Husband and wife were spending the day decorating.
Shiny garland, rows of lights, and ornaments of only the highest of caliber were spread out around in totes and were at MC’s full disposal. Napoleon’s lips faintly curled upward while MC pranced around the room, eyes wide and sparkling in admiration at all the crafted options she had to choose from. Over years prior, Napoleon had grown accustomed to his own Christmas tradition that he longed for, which entailed the vision of MC decorating their tree. From the way she would fret over the minute details such as which ornament should be hung on each branch, to the way she would bat her eyelashes and sheepishly smile when it came time to place the star on top of the tree.
Even on the tips of her toes, MC couldn’t reach the top on her own. Adopted as their ritual once everything was allocated on the tree, Napoleon would give her a boost and hoist her up so that she was able to place the finishing touches on their masterpiece. There were several new customs that the Bonaparte family adapted to once Comte wedded them; most of which Napoleon never envisioned himself partaking in, but the star was one that he held dear and cherished the most.
Except for this year since they had to adjust because-
“What do you think you’re doing?” Napoleon distressed, closing the distance between him and MC as he strode across the room. MC, whose swollen belly was now visible since she had entered her second trimester, was about to set foot onto a stepstool. “I told you I would take care of the branches you couldn’t reach. Please steer caution of any unnecessary risks, for the sake of yourself and our child.”
“I-I’m sorry,” MC whimpered, her lip trembling while her shoulders hunched. “Christmas time is one of my favorite times of year, and I only wanted to partake in our family tradition. I didn’t even imagine what may have happened to the baby if something happened. I’m sorry, Napoleon.”
Napoleon sighed, his heart twitching at the sight of the dejected look cast onto her face. His intent was to not harm MC’s feelings; rather the father-to-be’s instincts to protect
Desperate to fix her dampened mood, Napoleon walked over to his desk and opened the drawer that contained one of MC’s hidden away Christmas presents.
“Here, open this,” Napoleon instructed, passing the gift over to MC while willing she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the crimson creeping into his cheeks.
Stifled were the drops of tears glistening her eyelashes as the sound of wrapping paper being torn echoed throughout the room. The familiar warmth of MC’s embrace wrapped his body into a hug. A teardrop trickled onto his neck and Napoleon swiftly moved to brush away the wetness pooling away in her eyes, before glancing down at the gift she had unwrapped clutched tightly between her fingers. Napoleon had sought the assistance of Vincent to craft a hand painted ornament of a baby’s footprint.
“Napoleon, I’ve never received this thoughtful of a present before,” she revealed, blinking at the realization that next Christmas there would be another member of the family joining them. Her hand was drawn to the swell of her abdomen, and Napoleon’s soon joined his on the top of hers. “Next year, the three of us will be celebrating Christmas together as a family.”
The very thought caused a warmth to flood his heart. Although Napoleon was secretly overjoyed at their prospective future outlook, he also selfishly wanted to savor the last holiday they would be spending alone as a couple for a while.
“Come on, that ornament isn’t going to hang itself on the tree,” Napoleon urged, offering his assistance to MC.
He gently grabbed on to her outstretched hands and led her back over to the tree. MC surveyed the tree and then grinned at finding the perfect branch, leaving the tribute ornament front and center.
MC leaned her head onto Napoleon’s shoulder as her gaze roamed to the top of the tree. She momentarily lost herself in a sweet reminisce of how many times Napoleon and her would place the tree topper together. How such a simple action always filled her heart with such happiness was something MC would forever cherish as one of her favorite memories. Relieving those past moments gave her a sudden idea and MC perked up her head.
“Napoleon?” she prompted, capturing his gaze as looked over to address her. “Maybe in a few years, I’ll be able to join you in helping someone else put the star on the top of our tree.”
MC glanced down and rubbed her stomach affectionately. Napoleon marveled at the precious sentiment of the woman he took as his wife standing beside him in pride while their future child carried on the ritual they’ve grown accustomed to. Now that was another tradition that he could find himself looking forward to.
Though his wife standing by his side was naïve to his thoughts, Napoleon silently vowed to spend the rest of his eternity demonstrating his gratitude to the woman who was bearing the most valuable gift that the vampire could have ever prayed to be granted.
#ikemen vampire#napoleon bonaparte#ikevamp napoleon#ikevamp fanfic#ikevamp fluff#ikemen vampire fanfic#ikemen vampire fluff
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Too Pretty For War
Chapter 4 (ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9)
A Samuel Kiszka / fem!reader fic
Summary: The only way for Prince Sam to end a war is by marrying the enemy.
Tags: Prince!Sam, war, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst
A/N: Dedicated to both @safety-sam and @safarisammy. I hope this helps make you feel better after your day at work, Syd <3. Also I tried to incorporate real ancient Athenian and Spartan wedding traditions into this chapter (from what I read in Wikipedia, anyway) and all I gotta say is the Spartans were whack when it comes to weddings. I encourage you to look up their traditions, it’s wild. As always, enjoy!
Words: 3.6 k
+++
It felt as if Sam had blinked and the wedding was upon him. He supposed that it was easy to lose track of time when one was so buried in work. He awoke that day with his eyes feeling sunken in, the burden of having barely slept weighing heavily on him. As soon as his eyes opened, his heart hammered within his chest. It would do that for the entirety of the day.
He only was allowed a moment to himself before his servants burst into his chambers to ready him for the day’s festivities. Sam simply resigned himself to them, knowing there was nothing he could do to resist and unwilling to make their jobs difficult. He was first required to bathe; it was explained to him that the water was delivered special and would help with fertility. He tried not to think on that too hard. After he was dried off, he was dressed in his first set of garments for the day.
His first task for the day was to make an offering to the gods at the temple. In lieu of this, his outfit reflected that of the gods. He was dripping in gold; gold necklaces draping from his neck, gold bangles clasped to his wrists and biceps, gold ornaments woven into his hair and gold embroidered into his clothing. His chest was left bare, the embroidered cloth only wrapped around his hips and coming to his mid thigh. To make his look even more over the top, gold was intricately painted over his arms that branched onto his pectorals; even teardrops were painted below his eyes. It was all too much. Sam felt heavy and exposed, more like an art piece than human and not in a good way.
Finally, the time came to travel to the temple. The prince stepped out of his chambers, relieved to see Daniel standing outside waiting. He was dressed in his best as well, a bronze headpiece wrapped around his forehead with a pearl dangling down the center was tucked under the black curls that framed his face. A chest plate made of leather and bronze exposed his muscular arms, bracelets of his own clamped to his arms. His pteruges hung from his waist, the leather and bright red cloth feathering down to his mid thigh. He leaned against one of the support pillars with his arms crossed over his chest, lost in his own thoughts as he watched the clouds pass by in the morning sky. When he saw the prince walk out of his chambers, the content smile fell from his lips and his eyes widened. He stood up straight as if called to attention, his arms falling to his sides.
“Jest as you wish. I am certain I look as ridiculous as I feel,” Sam joked, sending a playful smile towards the advisor. Daniel did not move, rigid as a block of wood.
Samuel continued to approach the scholar, his concern growing for Daniel as he continued to stare at Sam as if he were the visage of a dead relation. The prince’s smile grew weak, his hands nervously coming to fiddle with one of the tassels that tied his tunic onto his waist.
“Have you been caught by Medusa's glare, Daniel?” He was stopped directly in front of his best friend, his brows knit together as he scanned his eyes over Daniel to see if he was sick or injured.
“You put Aphrodite to shame,” the scholar finally muttered. He was still in a dazed state, his eyes locked onto Samuel’s form.
The prince felt himself turn pink at the statement, his face turning hot as the meaning of those words sunk in. He was rendered speechless, unable to comprehend what his best friend had uttered to him.
“Pardon?” he weakly asked, his head feeling light all of the sudden.
That seemed to snap Daniel out of whatever trance he was put under. Blinking a few times, his cheeks also turned pink. He swallowed hard after closing his eyes, composing himself. Why, Samuel could not say.
“Forgive me, your highness. We must make haste. You do not wish to be late for the temple ceremony,” the advisor quickly informed, looking everywhere but in Sam’s eyes.
Without any further words spoken, the scholar turned on his heel and walked towards the main exit. Sam stood in his place, thoroughly confused as to what had just transpired. Daniel never called him “your highness”.
+++
The trek up and down the mountain to the temple was exhaustive and lengthy. By the time Sam and his betrothed had made it back to the palace the sun was low in the sky despite having left in the morning. He was hungry and fatigued but he was not allowed to eat until the feast that was being held at dusk. For now, he had to be ushered back to his room and changed out of his gold outfit.
Another one of those fertility baths was prepared, the prince happily sinking into the basin this time despite the meaning behind it. He was so glad to be able to relieve his feet, sighing heavily as he was submerged in the water. He stayed in that water for as long as he could, closing his eyes and resting his head against the lip of the bath. He could faintly hear the crash of the waves in the distance, the only thing preventing him from spiraling into a panic.
The biggest part of the ceremony was next. It was the most important and most official event for the matrimony. In about an hour’s time, Samuel would be carted around the entirety of Athens with his betrothed by his side to show that they were both no longer individuals but united as one. Everyone would know that he was married to Princess Y/N and that the war had ceased. There would no longer be any violence tolerated towards either side, a new era would be ushered in. It wasn’t supposed to be Samuel who brought on peace with the Spartans. He was not ready for married life or when he would eventually take his father’s place as king. He was far from prepared for anything the past month had thrown at him and he was petrified for what came next.
A knock on the door startled him, water splashing onto the floor. “Prince Samuel. You must be dressed.”
Sam groaned at the thought of having to be on his feet once more, he regretfully pulled himself out of the aromatic waters and winces as pressure was applied to his feet. He was once again toweled off, removing the tie he put in his hair to keep it out of the water.
He walked into his adjoining chambers, his eyes falling upon his outfit for the upcoming event. This time he was provided with a chest plate, but it was far from one solid piece. The collar wrapped around his neck loosely, a square cut in the center in an imitation of his jugular notch. Branching off from the collar were pieces that rested on his shoulder blades, two protrusions stemming down from his shoulders that came to a point at his navel. Strung between the two lengths of bronze running down his chest was a piece that covered his pectorals shaped like a bird’s wings, a slithering length of curving metal snaking between the collar and the point of the chest piece. The entire item was textured in intricate detail; leaves of vines, scales of snakes, and feathers of birds carved into the piece. Gauntlets of the same material and carved with the same details were strapped to Samuel’s forearms, leather straps keeping them flush against his skin. Just like Daniel, Samuel was adorned with pteruges on his lower half, but instead of bright red Sam wore light brown. For this look, his hair was pulled back and twisted up into a bun, his regular wreath of golden leaves placed upon his scalp. He never thought he’d be so comforted by being stabbed in the skull.
The chest piece he wore was one of great value. Sam shifted, listening to the clinking. The heavy metal dug into his shoulders and caused him to wince, feeling the thick edges gouging into his soft flesh. He wore items similar, but never for long. Unlike those used for practicality, this one was for the ornate. The bottom stabbed into the skin of his stomach, causing him to stand up straight. It was obviously not made for him. It was far too short.
Just as he was being fitted into his sandals, Daniel slipped in through the door of his chambers. He fortunately did not freeze like the morning’s mishap. However, the advisor was acting differently; sheepishly. He kept giving the prince this lingering glance that reminded Samuel of a wounded animal, his chest aching each time Sam laid his eyes upon Daniel.
“They send for you. The time is nearing,” Daniel reported, his tone bordering melancholic. The smile he gave the prince was rueful, his eyes almost glittering in the light of the setting sun.
Samuel’s last sandal was tied around his calf, taking a breath and nodding at his team of servants before approaching his best friend. “Lead the way, my friend.”
Doing as commanded, Daniel gave the prince a slightly brighter smile before holding the door open for Sam and motioning for him to take leave first. The two of them walked down the echoing marble corridors, silence befalling them in a manner it never had before. It was tense and uncomfortable, almost as if they were anticipating for the other to speak.
“Where are the guards?” Sam finally spoke, looking around to find that they were the only two souls around.
“I sent them away,” he answered, tucking his curls behind his ear as he looked down. He was wearing his pearl earrings once more, the ones Sam had gifted him. He was behaving sheepishly, so very unlike the Daniel he knew.
“Daniel, what burdens you?”
He still would not look at the prince. That rueful smile was back on his lips but he did not answer. The two continued to walk towards the doors to the stables, Sam halting them before they entered.
“You have been acting out of sorts since the morning. You hardly smile and when you do it is weighed down by immense sorrow. Please enlighten me as to your struggle, I worry for you.” Sam gently captured his best friend’s arm in his hand, finally causing the scholar to look directly at Samuel for the time that day.
The prince watched as Daniel’s eyes drank in his form, that mournful look to his smile growing. His eye brows knit together as his eyes grew heavier with regret.
“You look so beautiful, swan,” Daniel whispered, the arms that Sam was holding coming up to run a hand gently down the skin of the prince’s bicep.
Samuel was shocked by the words. They were spoken directly from the heart, all of the scholar’s shield’s lowered. However, the surprise he felt in that moment paled in comparison to the absolute bewilderment he experienced when he felt his lips captured by those of his best friend. He felt both hands clutch desperately at the prince’s biceps, the royal acting off instinct alone and reciprocating the intimacy. While his mind was as functional as a square wheel, Samuel could comprehend the palpable desperation from Daniel.
“Forgive me, swan,” he begged, resting his forehead against the prince’s after pulling away, “I found I could not bear the idea of never knowing what those perfect lips felt like before I lost you wholly.”
That was when Sam finally opened his eyes, seeing just how anguished and tortured his best friend looked. That was what finally caused his brain to start functioning properly again. All of a sudden, everything fell into place. Daniel was in love with him. And he had to watch the man he loved being married off to a complete stranger who despised him.
“Daniel…” He was paralyzed. He did not know what to say or what he should do. And he would not get the chance to figure out the right course of action.
“She awaits.” The scholar’s voice cracked in pure emotion as he disentangled himself from his best friend, Samuel feeling the regret in his lingering touch.
Sam had no choice but to enter the stables as Daniel opened the doors. He was spotted by the stable hands and quickly ushered in, the prince watching over his shoulder as his best friend vanished from view. His heart felt as if it fractured within his chest when he lost sight of the scholar. Hands continued to pull him towards the chariot his betrothed stood in; he wanted to fight and chase after Daniel, but he refrained.
All but in a daze, the prince was hoisted into the chariot next to Princess Y/N. She had a veil draped over - one that she has worn for the past two days in line with tradition - as well as the set of armor she wore the first day they met. The princess had insisted upon wearing the armor, citing that it was Spartan tradition for the bride to dress in men’s attire. While he did not fully understand the reasoning behind such a thing, he did not argue with her on the matter.
With both royals inside, the doors to the stables were pulled open and the horses began their trot into the streets. Samuel was in a daze, feeling the eyes of thousands of souls weigh on him. Their cheering was uproarious, boisterous and loud as peasants stood outside their homesteads and markets just to catch a glimpse at the newly weds. They were not cheering for Samuel. No one had ever wanted the youngest son to be the one ascending to the throne. The peasants were celebrating the end of the war, not him.
It was not until the princess had driven her elbow into Sam’s ribs that he realized he was lost in his own thoughts. Instead of acknowledging his citizens and thanking them for their adoration, the prince was staring ahead at nothing and imitating stone. Though somewhat irked by the manner in which Princess Y/N handled it, Sam began waving and smiling just as he was supposed to. However, it seemed that everywhere he looked, the prince picked Daniel out in the crowd only for him to realize it was his mind fooling him. It continued throughout the entire chariot ride, Samuel believing he spotted his best friend only for him to be a peasant upon second glance.
The prince was growing exhausted of being on display, the muscles in his face growing tired from being forced to smile for so long. He was uncertain for how much longer he could continue the charade, the sun slipping below the horizon and his fatigue crashing into him like a monstrous wave. It was only a short while longer until the chariot was pulled back into the stables attached to the palace, Sam never having been so thankful to smell the hay and manure in his entire life. He stumbled out of the chariot, Pythius catching him in his arms when the prince became light headed after the heat of the day and lack of food consumed finally got to him.
“You seem faint, your majesty,” Princess Y/N commented, her hand in that of a maid’s who was leading her out of the stables.
Not having the strength to ignore her, Samuel glared daggers at his new wife. “Keep to yourself, princess.”
The prince did not wait for her to respond nor react before he stormed out. He did hear her shout something out after him, but he ignored it. After the entire day he had endured, she was the absolute last person he wanted to interact with or even glance at. However, he was not so lucky. Sam was being escorted back to his room in order to be changed into his final garment of the day in order to have a celebratory feast in honor of his marriage.
While he was finally freed from that wretchedly small breast plate, Samuel did not want to be dressed again. At least he was spared from receiving another fertility bath, but that was his only mercy. The armor was exchanged for a simple Chiton, multiple gold discs resting atop his shoulder that held both the front and back pieces together; a length of the fabric draping against his back almost like a cape. A belt made of leather inlaid with gold was fastened to his waist, gaps along the sides of his torso and legs exposing his sun kissed skin. His golden crown was replaced by one weaved out of green vines, small white flowers and dark red berries protruding out of the greenery. His hair was released from its tie, made to hang naturally down. It was by far the most comfortable garment of the night, much to Sam’s relief.
Out of his chambers, the guards escorted Sam to the dining hall. The sun had fully set in the sky, the stars once again taking their place in the inky black. Torches warmly glowed inside the palace, offering light in the otherwise dim structure. The prince had not realized he was scanning every nook and cranny for his advisor only for him to come out fruitless.
He finally was able to catch a glimpse of him in the dining hall, seated to the right of Veronica. When Daniel spotted him, he gave Sam another one of those rueful smiles before casting his gaze away. It took everything in his power not to make a run for his best friend. Instead, he forced himself to take his proper seat at the head of the table next to his wife. He could barely stand to be so close to her, his contempt for her taking root within his chest.
The prince barely paid any mind to the festivities that took place around him, merely focusing on the food in front of him. He only spoke when addressed, otherwise brooding into his meal. Samuel always believed feasts to be dull, anyway. Not even the musicians had been able to raise his spirits. He kept stealing glances at his advisor, always coming up frustrated when he found that Daniel refused to look his way.
It was only very late in the night that the prince was finally able to capture Daniel’s attention, motioning for them to find a private location. He needed to say his piece to the scholar. Daniel was able to say his, now it was Sam’s turn. Obliging, Daniel followed the groom off into a hallway far enough away from the dining hall so that they were unlikely to be interrupted.
“What is it you wish from me? If you intend to have me apologize for earlier, you are mistaken,” Daniel spoke first, his defenses up. Sam could not help but feel hurt at the assumption.
Before he spoke, Samuel took his best friend’s hands into both of his. He gazed deeply into his eyes as he softly uttered what he had been wanting to say all day. “Hear me, Daniel. I know your feelings towards me now. But I cannot reciprocate. I have a wife that I need to give my heart to; it is only fair.”
The prince felt tears sting his eyes as he watched the understanding expression befall Daniel. The man hung his head, his hands squeezing Samuel’s gently.
“You speak that as if I did not know. I knew it was a doomed venture from the first yearnings my heart had for you. I have come to terms with this,” Daniel explained, lifting his head up to also look his best friend in the eye.
“Will you not lament at never being able to have me in the capacity you wish for?” Sam swallowed thickly after his voice cracked from raw emotion.
Dropping one of his hands, Daniel used it to caress the prince’s cheek. The royal leaned into the touch, closing his eyes as tears fell from them.
“I have been languishing for far longer than you know, my dear Samuel. I am able to handle this, worry not about me.”
Sam opened his eyes to find that he was not the only one crying. Despite the smile upon his lips, Daniel’s cheeks were wet with tears that reflected in the torchlight. Sam believed the scholar that he would be able to handle his emotions, but he did not want him to have to. Nodding his head, he places his free hand atop the one resting on his cheek. He placed a soft kiss to the inside of Daniel’s palm, his lips lingering for a moment.
“You must return. They will notice your absence,” the advisor noted, regret filling his voice. That anger Samuel experienced at the start of the feast made a fiery return. Right, he had a wife that he needed to be with now.
The prince removed himself from all physical contact with Daniel, unable to look at him lest his crying get worse. He would carry the guilt over breaking his best friend’s heart for the rest of his life, knowing that Daniel would never truly be happy despite deserving such a thing.
As he made his way back to that wretched feast, Samuel began cursing the war once again. It had stripped him of everything and yet still demanded more from him. No, not the war. The princess. She was everything that he hated. She was who caused him to lose the life he was meant to live. She was the death of his freedom and the death of his dreams. If it were not for her poisoning Joshua all those years ago, the war would never have started and Samuel would not be forced to be her husband.
Samuel despised her.
+++
Taglist:
@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @kdarling1 @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensgatedaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18
Taglist Form
#greta van fleet#greta van fic#too pretty for war#sam kiszka x reader#sam kiszka x y/n#sam kiszka#sammy gvf#danny wagner#danny gvf#jake kiszka#jake gvf#josh kiszka#josh gvf
89 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
makeboom
♛
playmatenextdoor
yaya ★
valthorvictus
Valthor's Labyrinth
0613340681
Untitled
frosinapopovskigrad702
Frosina Popovski