#but he sees the kid is strong and is like: imma step back and let him do his thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goodeapple · 1 year

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i had all and then most of you / some and now none of you

HOOOO LORDY, hi everyone! please excuse the delay on this behemoth; your girl was sick as shit not once but TWICE this whole month and cold medicine doesn't help my writing. as always, be kind, rewind, and REVIEW if at all possible. I cry at every single one of your's comments, I really do (imma Pisces, go figure)

AN : I also realized that last chapter I mixed up Rhaena and Baela and who was raised as Rhaenys' ward andddd for that, I will be retiring. nah, I'm just kidding but I'll be leaving it there because I am dumb and stupid and need to be humbled. I also love how that part flows and I am lazy as shit to fix it rn so enjoy my mistake.

pairing : Aemond x Ysilla (Rhaenyra'sDaughter!OC)

warnings : oral (F and M receiving), some anal, and a big ole dose of whipped!Aemond

word count : 9000+

masterlist

114 A.C

Aemond wrinkled his nose, the squirming babe bundled in maroon blankets screwing its red face up and giving a piercing screech. He hid his face into his mother’s skirts, shying away from the unhappy little dragon.

Alicent chuckled, smoothing a stiff hand over her son’s hair, the locks just barely beginning to edge passed his shoulders.

“It’s alright, my boy, she’s just hungry.”

Aemond’s nurse had tugged him away from practicing with his wooden sword in the courtyard to accompany his mother to meet his sister’s new babe. He had scuffed his shiny shoes the whole way, grumbling about the interruption of his daily schedule.

He seldom remembered ever being allowed in this part of the castle, his mother forever steering him in the opposite direction of his sister’s rooms.

The King sat across from his oldest child in an overstuffed chair, Rhaenyra’s hand grasped warmly in his, their speaking soft and muted. Helaena sat criss-cross on the bed at Rhaenyra’s feet, blonde curls dangling with her as she continuously swayed forward to steal peeks at her niece. Aegon’s hip rested against the bedside table, bright indigo eyes swirling between indifference and curiosity as he watched the newborn yawn and wiggle in her mother’s arms.

His father turned at the sound of Aemond’s entrance. A rare joyous smile brightened every one his aging features; the sight startled Aemond. He couldn’t recall in his young memories ever seeing his father aim such a loving look in his direction.

“Aemond, come here son.” His mother’s hands squeezed his upper arms so tightly that Aemond let a whimper slip from his lips, but after a moment she relented and urged him forward. Aemond took steps on uncertain legs, feeling the absence of his mother’s presence as she stayed fixed in place behind him.

His father’s free hand met his back when Aemond drew close enough, and guided him closer to the bed.

Rhaenyra’s sweaty face was blank as her littlest brother saddled next to her, face carefully unreadable. Even so, she angled her arm slightly towards him, the cocooned babe coming into his full view as her other hand still gripped her father’s.

“This is your niece, Aemond.” The King spoke faintly, adoration swimming in his voice.

Leaning up on his tiptoes, he braced his hands on the sheets and peered forward. Big, clear eyes blinked up at him, mouth pulling into a dainty “O” at the new face greeting her. The tiniest of nostrils flared, feet stretching under the layers of cloth. Aemond had never seen something so small before, the youngest himself of his siblings. Curiously, he reached forward and poked gently at the bulbous round cheek.

His father made a strange sound and Aemond felt a flash of worry that he did something wrong, but it eased as Rhaenyra laughed, a tired sound but still happy, as a tiny fist unclenched and lifted to curl around Aemond’s offending finger. A deceptively strong grip squeezed the tip and he shook it just so, but the babe remained locked on.

“I think she likes you.” Rhaenyra hummed, a modest grin making Aemond blush and smile unintentionally. He settled more firmly along the bed. Helaena leaned in and giggled at their niece, small fingers brushing away an errant dark curl.

“What is her name, sister?” Helaena whispered, almost afraid to break the sweet moment with her question.

Rhaenyra’s grin widened, eyes dropping down and looking upon her daughter with so much love that it threatened to spill out of the corners of her eyes.

“Her name is Ysilla.”

Aemond’s thumb brushed along the babe’s knuckles, a cooing sound escaping her, and Aemond could’ve sworn the babe smiled at her name.

“Ysillaaaaaa…” he whispered in wonder.

Current day. 14 days left.

Ysilla buries her nose into Visenya’s dusting of straw-colored hair, eyes closed and a serene look gracing her features. She breathes deep, an appreciative hum sounding from her throat.

“She smells so good, I can’t get over it.”

Her mother laughs, folding the blankets knitted tirelessly by Rhaena and Helaena in the moons leading up to her second daughter’s coming. A patchwork of harrowly stitched threads gifted from Joff also laid in the pile, and Rhaenyra pats it lovingly.

Visenya is only a few weeks old, not even reaching her first month yet, and Rhaenyra is sure the babe has barely known the cushions of her cradle as she’s been continuously passed from wetnurse to uncle to father to mother. Today, it seems like older sister wants all of her attention.

“Well, she was just bathed about an hour ago darling, and her cloth hasn’t been soiled yet.”

Ysilla shakes her head in avid disagreement before her mother even finishes her sentiment.

“No, it’s not bath oils or balms. It’s all her- she smells like a fresh flower. I could just eat her up in one bite, especially her little toes!” Ysilla moaned sweetly, her voice pitching high and kisses smooching along the tiny thing’s closed fist.

Rhaenyra smiles something soft and happy, relaxing into an armchair in her spacious regent apartments. A room fit for a queen, but it felt too reminiscent of her young life spent in these castle walls. Her father’s voice still echoed off the stones; her mother’s too, if she listened hard enough.

It was taking some time to adjust to, as were all the things that came with her crowning. All her life, Rhaenyra clung to this moment. The moment where she would be the ruler her father anointed her to be; Queen of all, protector of the realm, leader of the people. And now that she was here, it all felt strangely… anticlimactic. Like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, a raucous huzzah! to ring in her destiny. But no such luck; a three-day feast and celebrations with the people did nothing but remind her of mummer’s play she paid witness to many years prior, uncertain thoughts swirling about her head day and night.

Her mind is an unwelcome deterrence from her daughters’ company, and Rhaenyra focuses her attention on her now silent child.

There’s a peculiar dim shading her daughter’s gaze, her signature smile that shines brighter than the sun above clouded over to something akin to a grimace. Ysilla feels eyes upon her and she tries to sneak a glance at her mother. Rhaenyra’s eyes cut into hers. Ysilla pretends not to notice the worry in her stare.

“What troubles you, my girl? Are you… having second thoughts?” Rhaenyra tries to keep her words affable but even she can hear the twinge of hope in them.

Her last born brother is an enigma of a man. The rider of the biggest dragon since Balerion, a one-eyed shadow and a master with a blade, the cool facade over his honed cruelness terrifies Rhaenyra. Not for herself, of course not, but for her first child. Her lovely little one, Ysilla. That man being tied forever to her daughter brought only worry to her mind, dread coursing thickly through her veins. Every day, Rhaenyra pours over if she made the correct decision, the right decision to betrothe Ysilla to Aemond.

Rhaenyra remembers being so young herself, screaming prayers and curses in her mother tongue, the feeling of her womb being squeezed in a vice grip still vivid over fifteen years later. How her little bump had blossomed into a thing so tiny, it swam in the crimson blanket gifted from her soon-to-be grandsire. How the unwavering weight of protectiveness that crushed her stole all air from her lungs. How Rhaenyra knew fully and without doubt, she would rip any being apart who dared to lay a heavy finger on her daughter’s head.

Ysilla’s eyes widen a tad, a disbelieving smile curling her mouth. She bounces Visenya anxiously, nervous energy buzzing along her skin.

“No mother,” her words are sharp and spoken through tight lips. “Aemond and I are set to marry and we have no doubts about our coming union. No matter how much you and Daemon wish otherwise.”

Rhaenyra lets the retort roll off of her like oil over water.

“All I wish is for you to be content, my heart. No more, no less. That is all.”

Ysilla snorts, shifting Visenya slightly as the babe stirs in her wrap.

“And father? What does he wish for me? For my future husband?”

Her mother lets out a simple sigh, a familiar sound that seems to come frequently after Daemon’s name.

“Daemon only wants what’s best for this family. Aemond is a strong fighter, a quick learner, and a fierce foe. He will do wonderfully in our home and aid us in any troubles that the years may bring.”

Ysilla measures the weight of her words, eyebrows still pinched together. Rhaenyra wishes to smooth her thumb over them, to steal away her girl’s unease. The curse of being a mother- to endlessly wish to take her children’s pain and make it her own. To bear the brunt for them.

“He’s more than just a soldier awaiting orders.” Ysilla whispers. Rhaenyra has to strain to hear her.

“He’s… he’s funny. He makes me laugh even when I feel like doing the opposite. He’s smart, more-so than some maesters I’ve met throughout the years. He’s quiet and reserved at times, but when he speaks, I hang on his every word.” Ysilla’s eyes grow a touch glazed and her smile has a kiss of love at the corner. “He loves his family- his sister and mother, his niece and nephews- even his brother, though he will never admit it aloud, with such ferociousness it feels as if it is a living and breathing thing. He loves me, the same way.” Ysilla’s cheeks bloom hot, avoiding her mother’s knowing gaze.

Yes, Rhaenyra knows all too well how much Aemond has fallen for her daughter. Finding the duo together the night following Ysilla’s ball- in the same room Ysilla had her first moonblood in at ten-and-two- tangled in the sheets as naked as the day they were born had killed something in Rhaenyra’s soul. The girl she had borne in her own girlhood, becoming a woman right before her eyes. The childlike innocence had disappeared right along her maidenhead.

Rhaenyra’s only regret is that Daemon punched Aemond before she could.

“But, I do have fears.” Ysilla’s voice grows quiet and a touch uncertain, so unbecoming of her nature that it pulls Rhaenyra to her feet and across the room in a moment’s breath. She tucks a curl behind her firstborn’s ear, laying a kiss to the corner of her eye. Ysilla’s exhale is a shaky one, and she sways into her mother. A rock, grounded and unwavering; her mother is a woman of strength and fortitude- a Goddess amongst men. Ysilla will always think that blasphemously.

“Tell me, Ysilla. Let me carry this burden with you. Mother is here.” Rhaenyra whispers it like a secret to Ysilla’s temple and suddenly, it’s many moons ago, and the two are curled safe and warm under the covers, spinning tales of hellhounds and sorcerer’s spells and toppling kingdoms while the winds howl through the night.

“Fears for the future, fears of the unknown. I’m sure every coming bride feels these too.” Ysilla tries for a laugh, but it’s watery and her lips shake even when she presses them tightly together. Rhaenyra catches the first tear as it falls, but the second and third carve streams down the apples of her cheeks.

“What if… I’m not meant to be a mother? I couldn’t even hatch my own dragon egg, muña, what if it was for a reason that the Gods already know but they haven’t yet shared with me? What if Aemond doesn’t want babies, or worse, doesn’t want them with me? What if we tire of each other and he looks elsewhere?” Ysilla’s words start to jumble together, tears dripping off her chin and splashing onto a snoozing Visenya. The babe gives a whining cry and Ysilla jumps, arms tightening around the bundle but tears only coming faster at the distress she caused.

Ysilla murmurs soothing apologies to her sister, wiping the splatters with unsteady fingers.

Rhaenyra’s palm finds Ysilla’s back, rubbing firm circles against the crushed velvet and consoling shhhhs pressing into her hair.

“Now I may not know much but what I do know my girl, is that you are my daughter, through and through. The blood of my blood, you are a dragon. No matter if you marry one, no matter if you carry one, you alone are the strength and the power of our family name. Your husband is a man blessed by Gods above to have you on his arm.” Rhaenyra swallows, biting her tongue’s instance to sway her daughter in a direction opposite of Aemond Targaryen’s. But the young Queen knows it to be pointless, the vision of two dancing dragons burned forever behind her eyes.

“There is not one doubt in my mind that he’ll hold steadfast beside you, until the end of your days.” Rhaenyra strokes her cheek, a humorous little grin twisting her lips, attempting to lighten her spirits. “Trust me, a mother knows.”

Rhaenyra hoped that her speech would bring comfort to her daughter’s frazzled mind but it seemed to do the opposite, as hiccuping sobs break through Ysilla’s throat and her face crumbles like stone. Rhaenyra gathers her up, Ysilla’s head along her chest, the steady thumping of her mother’s heart beneath her ear a lullaby that croons a pacifying melody.

Rhaenyra holds her daughters in her arms, the crown of only motherhood balanced atop her head. The day ahead of her is long and stretching; plights of the common people waiting to be heard, harvest numbers to account for, petty squabbles to squish before they multiply to issues that she’ll lose sleep over. Rhaenyra doesn’t have much time to spare, all her minutes scheduled and ticked as they fall but by her hand alone, she’ll halt the sun itself if she must. She’ll make more hours in the day and push off the moon’s rise if her daughter needs her here, with her.

They’ll do all things together, as they always have.

10 days left.

Ysilla moans into her palm, clutching at the edge of the table to ground her to the earth. The writing quill nearly snaps in her grip, a bend in the thick stem twisting it to an angle. The neat script of her penmanship hidden now under several splattered ink drops, the prose of her heart blurring into lines of inky black that are undecipherable.

A harsh slap tears through the air and Ysilla arches away from the jolt against her bottom, but she only succeeds in rocking her spread cunt further against Aemond’s ravenous mouth. His tongue laps deviously at her bared entrance, thick fingers sliding into her and tickling her silken walls.

“I thought I told you to not fuck it up again. Are you immune to following orders, niece?” Aemond’s voice is drenched in lust, notes of false disappointment lost to the shine of her slick on his chin.

Ysilla whines, nails digging divots into the old oak.

“I’m trying, fuck, Aemond, take pity on me.” She pines for his locks threaded through her fingers, wants to tug them like reigns of a horse bridle to steer his tongue just slightly left. But per his very clear instructions, Ysilla was not to move her hands from the table as she was to focus on writing out her Valyrian vows, committing them to memory so that their ceremony would go off without a hitch. If she disobeyed the laid out rules, Aemond would stop his ministrations and only begin again after she was able to scribble out a few lines.

The pile of crumpled up parchment across from her proof as to how well she is doing.

Aemond laughs at her begging cruelly, fingers dragging in and out of her with lazy disinterest.

“Pity is for the weak, byka zaldrītsos. You can take it.” He whispers his praise, lips brushing the inside of her thigh, sparking fire every where he touches. He doesn’t need Vhagar to cause destruction- Aemond does that all on his own, with his vicious mouth and wicked tongue.

Sweat trickles down Ysilla’s temple, and she flexes her calves before snatching up a new sheet of parchment. Singling out every ounce of concentration she possesses, Ysilla attempts to begin again, the letters of the ancient language flowing from her memory and through her fingers.

Mazeman ao sir, Aemond Targārien, hae ñuha mēre.

Aemond’s tongue flattens, a sweeping lick from hole to button causing her ankles to shake. He sucks one of her lips into his mouth, fingers drenched in her wetness. He glides them along her cleft, a sizzling threat that causes Ysilla's eyes to blur. Her hand continues across the page, the quill scratching out shaky black letters.

Ñuha gīda.

He sucks at her nub, a jagged cry escaping her mouth. It bounces sharply off the walls and a tear splashes next to the paper. Ysilla wipes frantically at her face.

Ñuha valzȳrys.

Thick fingers spread her cleft, Aemond massaging gently at her back entrance. A slicked finger breaches her and Ysilla bites into her wrist, blood springing hot and acrid on her tongue. She sucks it down, the pain welcome as it clears her head.

Naejot iōragon ondoso se support.

Aemond hums his praise, tongue becoming frenzied as he works her open on one finger. And then two. Ysilla is like a dog with a bone, wrist impaled on her sharp teeth, teardrops and saliva mingling in rivelets as they drip down her forearm.

Naejot cherish se jorrāelagon.

She fucks herself forward, backward, meeting his tongue, shying away from his fingers. The pain and the pleasure a line she can no longer distinguish. She feels light-headed, her breathing short and shallow.

Syt se rest hen ñuha tubissa se beyond, ēva se mōris hen jēda.

The coil in her cunt tightens, her legs nearly giving way, forcing Aemond’s fingers deeper inside her. His tongue too, and Ysilla can feel the brush of his narrow nose against her. Ysilla loses breath, forehead dropping to burrow in the crook of her elbow. Aemond snarls a hungry sound, free arm coming around to loop at her hips, yanking her down to ride his face. His fingers drive in and out of her, the burn a nice drag that causes her to gush over his mouth.

Īlva ānogar, hēnkirī, binding īlva isse bisa ābrar se se hembar.

The words are crooked and surely misspelled, Ysilla writing them through a slanted gaze, quill on the verge of becoming two pieces. She’s nearly there, nearly finished. As if he can hear her desperate thoughts, Aemond slides his fingers into a curl, his thumb sinking into her clenching cunt and he arches them towards each other. He plays her like a fiddle, her noises a ballad of their carnality.

Iā bond daor vala kessa qūvy apart.

Ysilla shatters as the last word etches onto the page, sobbing pleas begging for her beloved’s mercy as she comes in waves, soaking Aemond’s face with her pleasure. He slurps lewdly, catching all she has to offer in his mouth, drinking her down as if she’s a rare wine he can’t get enough of. Ysilla would blush in shame if her mind wasn’t fogged over by unrelenting lust. He slides his fingers carefully out of her, Ysilla screwing her face up in displeasure at the vacant feeling

Aemond straightens along her back, fixing down her skirts and collecting her curls off to one shoulder to cool her off. He presses forward, reading her sloppy scrawl over her shoulder. His eyes trail over the words, possessiveness coursing through him ferociously. He can nearly hear her sweet voice reading out the vows and the thought that he’ll only have to wait a few more days to experience them nearly drives him over the edge.

Aemond winds his arms around her waist, tugging Ysilla upwards and flush against him. Her head lolls along his shoulder, her breaths still labored and he fights a smile of pride at his handiwork.

“You did so good for me, Princess. You listened so well.” Ysilla whimpers at the innocent kiss he places on her cheek, so opposite an act considering where his mouth just was. Her legs still quiver beneath her, but the retribution growing inside her strokes strength up her spine.

Drawing forward a chair with her foot, Ysilla maneuvers Aemond into it, his ass crashing down to the unforgiving wood. He arches a brow, thighs spreading on instinct as Ysilla steps to him. Her palm slams against the table, dragging to him a smudged piece of blank parchment. The bent quill and inkpot are an arm’s reach away from him. She bends towards her lover, hands bracing on the arms of the chair. Her lips are bloodied and wet, spit dripping viscously off her chin. Her tongue flicks out, a flat lick from the jut of his chin to the top of his lip makes her own taste burst sharply on her palette.

Aemond could tear through his breeches with how achingly hard he is. He wants to wrap a hand around her throat, force her to straddle his lap, and fuck his cock so deep inside of her, she’ll be bowlegged until the wedding. The image his brain conjures makes his hips thrust upwards involuntarily and Ysilla smiles a grisly thing, her teeth tinged red. She looks ghastly and Aemond licks his lips like a man half-starved.

“Your turn, husband.” Ysilla drops to her knees, voice wrecked, lithe fingers tearing through his laces and freeing him. His cock pulses and jumps in her hand, and Aemond curses as she blows cool air over the weeping slit. It isn’t until he clenches the warped quill in his fist that Ysilla swallows him down to the root. And then removes her mouth just as swiftly as he lets his eyes roll to the back of his skull. He fixes her with a glare. She pumps him just a touch shy of not tight enough, and winks at him.

Revenge is a dish he finds absolutely maddening.

6 days.

Alicent pulls Aemond along the edge of the room, arms linked at the bend of their elbows, the polished floors of the Starry Sept catching the light of midday’s sun that pours prisms of color through the stained glass windows.

There’s flurries of servants about, cleaning and decorating the holy room to prepare for the Royal Wedding. Soon, Oldtown will be bursting at its seams with visitors from all over Westeros, eager to attend the most anticipated union of the last century.

Targaryen weddings happen from time to time, of course, but this one is causing quite the stir all over the Realm. Queen Rhaenyra and Alicent Hightower’s feud has been long-standing and impossible to ignore as the years have passed and now, they were to be joined together by way of marriage. Drama fed the people more than bread ever could, and the buzz surrounding Aemond and Ysilla’s union only grew as the date drew nearer.

Alicent had been here over a week already, perfecting the town to welcome the wedding guests. Aemond had arrived on Vhagar a few hours ago, reluctantly leaving Ysilla sound asleep in their chambers. They hadn’t been apart since that wretched ball and even with three of his most trusted guards posted outside their door, the impulse to cling to her side nearly sent him crawling back to her. Weak for only her, he certainly is.

“And the windows will be cleaned by the morrow and once more the morning of the ceremony, to ensure they truly shine. All of the candles will be replaced with new ones, and we’ll finally fix The Father’s scales so they appear balanced.” His mother prattles on, laying out her thoughts, Aemond nodding at the parts he is supposed to. He couldn’t spare a single fuck if he and Ysilla were to marry in the damned Dragonpit, as long as they married.

Ironic that the closer the day came, it seemed more and more out of reach.

“I’m so happy you made the trip out here, my boy.” Alicent pushes back a platinum strand that came loose in his flight. Her fingers quake, drifting over the band of his eyepatch, forever haunted by that accursed night.

“It’s so hard to tear you from Ysilla’s side these days. It’s like you’re already gone.” Alicent snivels, pressing a juniper colored handkerchief to her nose. Aemond fights a roll of his eye.

“Mother,” Aemond starts, frustration bleeding into his tone.

“My son, please, humor me.” Alicent digs her nails along his forearm, not harshly but enough to cause him to halt. Aemond sighs gratingly through his nose but concedes, head bowing forward to urge his mother to speak her mind.

“Ysilla is a great match, one that has become more and more well-suited as I see the two of you together. She is lovely and wonderful and beautiful. She’s well-read and primed for perfection but she reminds me so much of her mother that it strikes fear in me, Aemond.” Alicent’s voice grows a sliver ragged, nails picking at the cufflink at his wrist.

“Rhaenyra was spirited and lively, when we were girls. We spent every waking moment together, never parting far from each other’s sides. Her fixations however, bordered on all-consuming. They narrowed her focus on one point and everything else became inconsequential. I don’t want you to lose yourself to any predilections that may have passed on to her daughter. I don’t… I don’t want to lose you too.”

Aemond sees something swim in his mother’s green gaze when she reflects on her past she shares with his older sister. A look none-too distant from the way he knows his eyes soften when they’re fixed on Ysilla. He finds it curious.

“I am not losing a part of myself, mother; this is not a sacrifice I’m committing. I am gaining something here. A wife, a family, a future.” He keeps going, pretending the hurt that dawns on her face doesn’t feel like a blade in his belly. “Youare gaining something here too. A daughter, grandchildren… a friend in the form of her mother.”

Alicent turns from his ceaseless stare, unable to hold it any longer. Tears, unwelcome and unbidden, irk her in their appearance. She doesn’t wish to shed any more grief over years lost and possibilities wasted. This newfound friendship she’s attempting to forge with Rhaenyra has brought more ease to her heart than she can recall experiencing since she was a girl. But the past refuses to stay buried, even in her own mind, and the thought of her most precious son leaving her behind threatens to spiral her down a dark path.

Aemond’s hands rest on her shoulders, lips pressing a peck into her hair and she breathes as evenly as she can.

“We can find joy, mother, I know it. We just,” Aemond exhales, almost preaching the words to himself. The Mother and the Maiden bore down on him with their stone stares, forcing him to avow his purest desires. He’s always hated this place. “We just have to reach out and take it.”

2 days.

“Bloody hell, ‘Silla, be quiet.” Lucerys’ hissed whisper rockets through the hall, breaking the stretching silence of the twilight. The hour is late, most likely waning into the very early hours of the morning and the occupants of the royal quarters are fast asleep and readying themselves for a final day of preparations on the morrow before setting off for Oldtown.

That is, all but the bride-to-be and her little brothers.

Lucerys, a whole head shorter than both Jace and Ysilla, has somehow been settled with the duty of dragging his two very drunk siblings through the winding halls of the castle and attempting to get them safely to their rooms.

They had slipped from the Keep, a hidden passage in Ysilla’s chambers, an opportune getaway that was too tempting to ignore. Aegon had always slurred about his most cherished taverns and while his nephews ignored him without thought, a few choice places had wiggled into their brains and whispered their allure.

And a final visit to their sister for old time’s sake, before her impending marriage that the boys were dreading, had quickly turned to a night of mischief prompted by a particularly strong bottle of Dornish wine.

You see, Ysilla and Jace had a terrible competitive streak, stemming back before Lucerys was even born. Mother had told him that the two would come near to sparring over who got to read to him, who got to untangle his curls, even who got to dress him for the day. Jace had sworn once, hand placed over the bark of a Weirwood tree, that Lucerys’ first word was Jac-ey. Ysilla had clobbered him over the head with her sketchbook, outrage burning in her words as she proclaimed That is absolutely false, you little weasel! It was “Sill-i”.

And once they were seated at a far back table in one of the less crowded taverns the trio had come across, a bottle of mulled cider had fallen victim to the two elders' attempts to one-up each other.

Lucerys had only reached the bottom of his first pint when Jace and ‘Silli polished off their second bottle, choosing rum as the next liquid conquest.

“You’re such a good brother, Lukey.” Ysilla slurs, feet still somehow thankfully beneath her, as Lucerys doubted he had the strength to carry both of his siblings into the castle. She was his favorite tonight, more-so for the fact that she wasn’t the one who had spewed spirits all over his shoes. But Ysilla also tended to get very lovey-dovey when she fell too far into her cups, and the tears that seemed to follow always made Luke awkward and distressed.

“Yes, ‘Silla, I know. You’ve said that twice already.” Lucerys huffs, taking a moment to catch his breath, and right a swaying half-asleep Jacaerys. He applauds himself for not letting either of them tumble down the steps they just had to summit. A win in his eyes, really.

“Well it’s true.” Ysilla grumbles, hiccups and the occasional belch escaping her. Luke tries not to laugh, toeing open the hidden door that leads to his salvation. He could shout in celebration; they’re finally home.

The door swings open and Lucerys tries not to choke on his spit.

Aemond Targaryen twirls his blade lazily, leaning casually amongst the throws of Ysilla’s bed. Twin knights in the form of Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk stand guard by both the balcony and the door leading to the hall of the castle.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Aemond catches the dagger he throws up in the air by the dull side of the blade, sheathing it as he rolls to his feet.

“Aemondddd.” Ysilla’s voice is a dreamy sigh as she hears her almost-husband, head rolling forward along Lucerys’ shoulder to aim a blinding beam at him.

Aemond scoffs, all resentment leaching from his eye at the sight of his sloshed lover. A fond annoyance finds its place, and he drifts closer to the wobbly Velaryons.

Lucerys, still after all these years, can’t seem to look Aemond in the eye but tonight he is tired, hungry, painfully sober and Jace smells of vomit so he puts his past guilt to the side and pushes his sister into his uncle.

Aemond catches her readily, narrowing his lone eye at the middle Strong son. There is no love lost between him and his bethrothed’s brothers, especially the one that slashed the eye from his head at only five years of age.

“She likes mint tea after a night of drinking, with goat’s milk and too much honey. She has some stashed away in her vanity; her handmaid knows how to prepare it properly.” Lucerys offers his knowledge as an olive branch, turning full attention to pull his brother along, staggering under the deadweight of the drunken boy.

Aemond says nothing, Ysilla cooing and mumbling happy noises into his throat, arms slung about his neck. Lucerys takes his dismissal with a farewell nod, pulling Jace along as they try to make their way to their quarters.

“Ser Arryk,” Aemond’s voice never fails to frost over Lucerys’ skin. “Make sure these two find their way back to their rooms safely. My bride would have my head if anything were to happen to her brothers.” Ysilla giggles girlishly at my bride and Lucerys exhales a relieved breath.

“And make sure the Queen knows exactly where they were tonight- I’m sure she would be very interested to know of her son’s whereabouts.” The smugness in his uncle’s voice makes Lucerys wish he had taken his other eye.

Aemond smirks, watching the knight take hold of Jacaerys’ arm as they disappear behind the door. He spares a glance down at Ysilla, finding hazy eyes staring up at him with unveiled devotion. He snorts, wrapping arms around her hips and nearly lifting her off her feet.

“Your breath stinks.” Aemond asserts, nodding at Ser Erryk as he pulls the door shut behind him, leaving the two alone.

Ysilla scoffs indignantly, shoving at him with sloppy aim, kicking herself away as he plops her on the bed.

“You stink! Dragon smell is not very becoming of you, husband.” Ysilla shoots back childishly, tugging roughly at her boot’s laces with a very pinched look of concentration.

Aemond pulls a chair from in front of the lit hearth, angling it at the foot of her bed and sits himself down. He grasps at Ysilla’s ankle, ignoring her squeak as he pulls her towards him. He works at the knot she’s achieved in her drunken frustration.

“I thought you said I smell of orange blossoms and sword polish.”

Ysilla shoots up, curled fringe falling into her eyes that she tries to blow away with puckered lips. Her stare is a bit unfocused, but the inquiry building there is undeniable.

“I never said that to you.”

Aemond’s lips curl at the end, pulling off one boot before starting on the other. He keeps his eyes on the task at hand, not avoiding her gaze, per say. Just occupied.

“Not out loud, you didn’t.”

The haze of alcohol slows her realization, but Aemond is quick to catch her foot as it shoots out to collide with his stomach when it dawns on her.

“You cretin! You absolute fucker, you read my diary!”

Aemond laughs at her outburst, releasing her hostage foot as she drags herself up the bed and away from him. Ysilla curls into a ball, eyes blazing and attempting to burn him to a crisp.

“You sleep in late and I tire of mapping your beauty to my mind. You left it open one night and I found it pleasing to pass the time.” Aemond’s voice is too sweet and Ysilla rolls her eyes, crossing her arms and dwelling in her dismay. Aemond wants to sink his teeth into her pouty mouth.

“Busy yourself with something else then! Go ride your dragon or read an actual book or swing a bloody sword, but leave my thoughts alone.” Ysilla rolls over, burying the last of her sentiment into her pillow and Aemond slips soundlessly into the bed behind her. He winds his arms around her waist, pulling her petulant form to meld against him.

“I couldn’t leave your thoughts no matter how hard you try.” He brushes a kiss to the skin behind her ear and Ysilla shivers. “And I don’t want to leave our bed without you joining me to start our day. My body might depart but my mind would stay with you as long as you’re absent from my side.”

Ysilla is silent for a moment before she turns to face Aemond. Her eyes are trained on his chest, fingers fidgeting with the buttons of his tunic.

“Are you nervous?” Aemond doesn’t ask what about- he’s already irked his bride enough tonight, he doesn’t wish to cause a fight. No matter how tempting she is in her anger.

“Not one bit.” Aemond’s hand comes up to tangle with her fingers, pulling her palm flat over his heart, making her feel the organ that beats only for her.

Ysilla sniffs, bleary eyes raising to find his singular stare, nuzzling closer to him, her bare feet intertwining with his legs. Her cheeks are flushed from the ale, hair a bit wild, and Aemond regrets never taking to art. How he wishes he could commit Ysilla’s beauty to paint, to coal, anything so that he could be surrounded by her face no matter where she be.

She brushes her thumb feather-light over the end of his scar and the chill it leaves him with soothes any phantom aches. He refuses to close his eyes before she does.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” Ysilla breathes out, speech slurred only slightly and at last, her lashes flutter shut and her breaths even out. Aemond nudges off his boots, unwilling to part from his betrothed, the comforting scent of her lulling him to sleep. Ysilla’s hand is still placed over his heart, and the beats slow as Aemond drifts off.

“Me either, my love.”

The day of.

Ysilla’s feet are clouds beneath her, floating her out of the Starry Sept and into a private room meant for the bride.

The deafening cheers and claps of the wedding guests still ring in her ears, lips puffing from Aemond’s insistent mouth. She presses her fingertips to them, quivering at the hot rush of want that spins in her stomach from the bruising ache. She had bit him slightly, barely a press of her teeth, to chase him back from plundering her mouth with his skilled tongue in front of all their witnesses- not to mention the Gods. But the look he shot her could’ve made The Crone’s lamp tumble from her hands and shatter into a million little pieces. Ysilla had to hide her face in his shoulder in the semblance of an embrace to hide the flames licking up her neck. As if that would help, as Aemond only whispered the most unholiest of dirty thoughts into her ear. Ysilla is sure there are apples that paled in intensity to her face as she descended the steps, hand-in-hand with Aemond.

A knock amongst the wood whirls her around, a blonde head popping in before she can call out her greeting. A relieved smile graces her face, pleased to not have to entertain anymore Septons.

“Rytsas kepa,” Ysilla welcomes, Daemon closing the door behind him. “Skoriot iksis muña?”

“Readying Syrax and Caraxes for the flight to Dragonstone. I think we’ve frightened the folks of Oldtown enough with their presence.” Dameon grins gleefully, not a shred of remorse in his visage. His smile drops though when he takes in her choice of attire.

“You have to change, Ysilla. Dresses don’t fare well when riding dragonback.”

“And how would you know? Spent much time in gowns, father?” Mirth tickles her pink, happiness exuding from every pore of her being. Daemon chuckles at her silliness, his dismay regarding the entire day melting slightly at his daughter’s elation.

“I’ve lived a long life, maybe I’ll share that story with you someday.”

Ysilla chuckles, nodding affirmatively, taking a moment to breathe.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Ysilla spins in a circle searching for her trunk, patting down her dress, hands coming up to tuck her curls behind her ears. Her face feels hot but she can’t stop smiling; just one more ceremony and it’ll be complete. She and Aemond will be tied together forever.

Daemon catches her hand and Ysilla stops short, the heavy twirl of her skirts continues to twist around her and pulls at her hips.

His eyes are aimed at the floor and Ysilla worries she must’ve gotten something on her dress with how hard he’s staring but his voice quiets her fears.

“Say the word, little one, and I’ll whisk you away from here. I’ll load you onto Caraxes with half the gold the Iron Bank has locked away, and I’ll take you anywhere you have ever wished to see.” Her stepfather’s voice is uncharacteristically earnest and her heart swells tenderly.

Ysilla finds herself blessed- she has more fathers to count than some get in a multiple lifetimes. Ser Harwin, always hovering about in case she called on him, was a kind, warm man who never failed to remind Ysilla of home. Laenor, more absent than not but vivid and tender when he was present, had carved a hole into her heart with his demise, never to be filled again.

And Daemon; he had dropped into her life at the peaking dawn of her womanhood with two daughters in tow and a past so entwined with her mother’s it had made Ysilla’s head hurt. Tepid at times and boiling at others, Ysilla remembers she wasn’t too sure what to make of him at the beginning. But with time and commitment, he had earned himself a place in her family. He always treated her with respect, listened to her fantastical stories with half a keen ear, trailed behind her dancing across the beach, and put a heavy blade in her hand when he was sure she wouldn’t slip with it and lose a finger. He was a father in all the ways that weren’t rewarding but in all that mattered.

“Well, Dorne has always been a sight to behold, I’ve heard.”

A conspiring grin pulls at her stepfather’s mouth, an expression Ysilla always aimed to drag out of him. Dameon always looked more approachable that way- contentment softening his ruggish features.

“I could get you there before the sun would set.”

Ysilla hums, a tempting offer she acts like she contemplates, nibbling along her bottom lip and brow furrowed in false pondering.

“The weather would be quite beautiful. The flowers in bloom, the waters warm, the wine flowing.”

Daemon nods, a bigger smile taking over, plucking a speck of lint from her garments. He swings a curl back behind her, making sure her jewelry is sparkling and faced forward. He’s busying himself for the answer he knows is coming.

“But unfortunately,” Ysilla squeezes his hand in her’s, Dameon answering with a squeeze a fraction tighter. “I think that ship has sailed, father.” She wiggles her shoulders, the weight of Aemond’s cloak draped around her barely shifting with her movement.

His eyes are lit with begrudging acceptance of Ysilla’s choice, the joking air dissipating as he voices an agreeing groan.

Ysilla’s eyes are misty, and her cheeks ache pleasantly from her wide stretching smile.

“Plus, he’d find me on Vhagar and drag me back with him.”

Daemon pfffts out a humorous burst of air and Ysilla knocks her forehead to his shoulder as he pulls her into a one-armed hug.

“He’d have to get through me first.”

The night of.

Aemond and Ysilla stumble into his room their room, slurred whispers and uncontrollable giggles the song of too much celebrating and way too much wine.

The newlyweds bar the door behind them. Ysilla flings off her shoes, moaning at the rushing relief of freedom for her feet. Aemond’s arms wrap themselves around her, pulling her back tight to his front. He noses at her temple, a rhythmic growl rolling from his chest.

“All night long you’ve forced me to lend an ear to your moans and expected me to do nothing about them. The fruits, the pigeon pie, the imported wine, the cake, all followed by the sounds of your pleasure.” Aemond presses his teeth to the meat of her cheek and he feels it pull upwards at the grin Ysilla dons.

“What can I say, it was really good pie.”

Ysilla twists around, her fingers braiding through his hair and Aemond moans a pleased sound. Ysilla’s fingers are magic, constantly seeking out the knots and tangles that appear at the end of a long day. She refuses to rest until the twisted locks sweep down into a blonde river of gleaming strands.

“Mmmm, who's moaning now, my love?” Ysilla challenges, desire floating in lavender irises. She sucks at her lip, wincing and releasing it at the sharp crack of pain left behind by the Dragonglass’ cut. Aemond’s thumb finds the wound, smearing her blood along his finger before rolling the digit around his tongue. The way that that depraved act spears thirst through her makes her dizzy.

“You taste divine, Ysilla.”

Ysilla purrs, pulling him down by the hair to lick at his lips but he dances away before their mouths can meet. Ysilla frowns, feeling entirely too empty without him pressed against her. Only a day spent fully together and she can’t stomach them being apart. Gods help her.

“A plan?” Ysilla raises a dark brow, bliss still lingering in every fiber of her being. She tries a grin, and Aemond’s answering curl of his lips banishes all distress from her heart.

“Yes, little one, one that you may not be privy to. Now, make yourself comfortable and I’ll be along for you soon.” Ysilla laughs at her husband’s antics (her husband, her husband, her husband. She’ll never tire of that, she hopes) and she shoos him away to go about his mission.

Aemond stalks off, slipping into an adjoining room and behind a changing partition, nodding his approval at the set-up he directed the servants to prepare.

A large brass bath, filled halfway with flame-boiled water, scented with rose oil and loose peony petals . Candles are lit in every corner, a table set with two glasses and Ysilla’s favorite plum wine waiting to be consumed. Almond oil, Aemond’s choice, is by the foot of the bath and he grows restless. He plans to press into all her muscles, chase away her stress and soreness, make her pliant and boneless before slipping inside of her, at last their coupling right and true in the eyes of their ancestors.

Husband and wife. Valzȳrys se ābrazȳrys.

Aemond spares a final glance at the room, rubbing his hands together before marching back to his and Ysilla’s room. But Aemond can’t suppress a laugh, scratching at his brow at the sight that greets his arrival.

Ysilla is curled under the furs, pants and shirt in a pile in the corner of their room, soft snores the only sound besides the logs burning in the hearth. He tosses his eyepatch on the table, coming closer to the bed and making sure she’s tucked in tight. He blows out the bedside candle, darkness blanketing the room. The glow from the fireplace’s flames give Aemond a last glance of his wife’s sleeping face. He sighs as he trudges back to the bath, regrettably alone. He strips down, a trail of clothes marking his path.

Aemond swings his legs over the rim of the tub, dunking himself under the boiling water, hoping the scald chases away his undying want for the woman dozing in the other room.

It doesn’t and Aemond starts to count down the minutes until sunrise, where he can awaken his wife with his mouth upon her cunt, her moans singing alongside the twittering of the owls.

“Don’t look so frightened, wife.” Aemond growled the last part into her ear, woozy and whirling from the day’s events.

Ysilla dared an amazed laugh, stare unwilling to break from the behemoth emerald beast she was expected to mount. Looking at her now, Ysilla was dumbfounded of how a young boy gambled his life, and chanced a death by flames or fangs to claim her.

Her husband, one-of-a-kind he is.

“You face me with meeting the only other woman in your life and expect me to be all smiles?” Ysilla tried her hand at a jest but it fell flat, her voice a few octaves too high.

Aemond grinned, securing his gloves and tightening his hair band, coming forward and pulling her towards him. He double-knotted the tie of his cloak at the base of her throat, tucking her curls beneath the black stitchings. She had shed her wedding dress before leaving the Sept, electing a pair of dark brown breeches and a billowing ruby houppelande much more appropriate for dragon riding. She kept the cloak wrapped around her though, and Aemond’s heart sailed at the sight of his protection swathed about her.

It wasn’t a long journey by any means, a little less than an hour to Dragonstone, where they would be joined in the customs of Old Valyria. Ysilla and Aemond had made the decision it would be just the two of them for the ceremony, and chose Maester Gerardys, a man who had watched over Ysilla since her birth, to officiate the union. Daemon and Rhaenyra didn’t take immediately to the decision, but a bat of Ysilla’s lashes and a pleading twist of her lips had quieted their objections. But they weren’t swayed enough not to be waiting on the newlyweds at the castle across the cliff’s way. Getting there was the only obstacle now.

Aemond settled his hands on Ysilla’s shoulders, pulling her attention from the sleeping dragon to fixate on him. He chuckled at the apprehension she couldn’t hide on her face, and he felt a small victory at the breathy laugh she released, nerves fleeting with the sound.

He tugged on her hand, every small step forward a win he wore like a crown.

“Come now, my love, our life awaits.” Aemond gifted her a perfect smile before turning and climbing up the rope ladder along Vhagar’s neck. The old beast snuffled, puffs of smoke drifting from her snout as her rider dared to awaken her from her slumber. Ysilla’s legs wobbled once Vhagar aimed her yellow stare at her, something akin to a question building in her huge eyes.

Ysilla dropped forward in an almost curtsey. “Rytsas Vhagar.” Ysilla stilled, locking eyes with the magnificent creature. The seconds stretched on, but Ysilla refused to retreat. Vhagar cocked her head to the side, perhaps scrutinizing the tiny girl before shaking her mammoth head, the gust of wind it conjured nearly knocking Ysilla over. She arched her giant claws, bones cracking vociferously and Ysilla realized she was stretching. Ysilla had seen street cats do the same and she suppressed a chuckle, starting up the flimsy ladder, Aemond’s hand securing around her elbow and guiding her in front of him.

“Alright you, so make sure you don’t move too much. Hold on here and here, and loop your feet through these.” Aemond directed her, prodding at her and Ysilla rolled her eyes fondly.

“I’ve ridden a dragon before, thank you.” Ysilla shot back, memories of her and her mother on Syrax stirring up dormant instincts. It’s been years since she did that and Ysilla cried in fear the whole time, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He hums dismissively, arms encasing her so that he can grip at Vhagar’s reigns.

“Not like this, ñuha prūmia. Hold on tight.”

And then all at once, following a Valyrian command, Ysilla jolted forward, gasping in a breath as Vhagar took off over the seaside cliff, She wished for a free hand to cover her mouth to stunt a scream, but her teeth would have to do as she was too terrified to release the hold she had on the saddle. Ysilla’s stomach was thrown into loops, the weightlessness in her legs unpleasant and she never imagined she’d miss the ground beneath her until that moment.

She hadn't realized her eyes were squeezed shut, partially hoping she just passed out but Aemond’s voice at her ear drifted over the roar of the wind.

“Open your eyes, Ysilla.”

Ysilla did so reluctantly but once she did, oh, it was life changing.

She had never seen the sea from this height before, never leveled her stare with white puffy clouds, seen above the sun as it began to set. The air was thinner this high up, but all the more clear. Ysilla was slack-jawed, awe taking over for debilitating fear. Her eyes soaked in everything and it still seemed like there was more to see.

Even with the sun setting ablaze the ocean in its descent, the summit of the moon close behind, Aemond couldn’t tear his eyes away from his wife’s face. Nothing felt more right than in that moment; a Targaryen bride in his arms, his dragon soaring beneath him, a bright, opportune future laid out further than the stretch of the sea. Happiness, a once alien emotion that seemed to become more familiar each day spent by Ysilla’s side, bloomed like a spring flower in his chest and took root. Finally, Aemond let himself breathe out, let himself just be. He grasped Vhagar’s reigns tighter, secured Ysilla against him, and directed the dragon higher into the sky, racing against the sunset, basking in his wife’s rollicking laughter all the way.

byka zaldrītsos

little dragon

muña

mother

Mazeman ao sir, aemond Targārien, hae ñuha mēre. Ñuha gīda. Ñuha valzȳrys. Naejot iōragon ondoso se support. Naejot cherish se jorrāelagon.

Syt se rest hen ñuha tubissa se beyond, ēva se mōris hen jēda.

īlva ānogar, hēnkirī, binding īlva isse bisa ābrar se se hembar. Iā bond daor vala kessa qūvy apart.

I take you now, Aemond Targaryen, as my one. My equal. My husband. To stand by and support. To cherish and love. For the rest of my days and beyond, until the end of time. Our blood, together, binding us in this life and the next. A bond no man will tear apart.

Rytsas kepa. Skoriot iksis muña?

Hello father. Where is mother?

Valzȳrys se ābrazȳrys

Husband and wife

Rytsas Vhagar

Hello Vhagar

ñuha prūmia

my heart

i hope you all loved this family feels chapter because the next one... i'm just gonna apologize in advance because the next one is a DOOZY.

forever thankful for every single kudos, comment, and read this story has gotten. you all rock my world! xx

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen smut #ysilla targaryen #i had all and then most of you / some and now none of you

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imafivestarkpopstan · 1 year

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STRAY KIDS X SISTER READER REACTION

Gonna use the names Hailey and Lewis. For Chan's siblings

CHAN :

You were ten whole year syounger than him, and when you were old enough to go to school, he was already off in JYP. And now, at 15, you and your two siblings were getting ready to go see him. As usual, you and your brother were arguing, while your sister just stood there, done with you two. The ride to Stray Kids dorms was not long, but your motion sickness acted up.

"I'm gonna puke." You announced, and your mother passed you a trash bag. No sooner had you opened it, than bile rose to your throat and you spilled into the bag. While your brother looked disgusted, being the loving sibling she was, your sister rubbed your back soothingly as you retched.

Soon enough, you arrived at the dorms, but you were asleep in your dad's strong arms. Chan opened the door, giggling at you. It was a typical sight. Even when he was a child, you'd been like that. Getting sick and falling asleep. He pretty much knew that you'd been sick in the car. Your family went in, the other members greeting your siblings while you lay on the sofa.

Lewis began to poke your cheek, making you whine and slaphis arm away. Hailey giggled and took a photo of you, to blackmail you with. She was about to post it on Instagram, when Lewis whispered in her ear.

"Draw a moustache on her face." She snorted and used a filter to apply a moustache, then put it on her story. Right when she posted, you opened your eyes blearily and reached for your sister.

"Hailey, carry me."

"You're 15, ya'know."

"So? Channie still carries me." You peered innocently at Chan, who made a face.

"You didn't give me a choice did you?" He snarked. "You threw a whole tantrum."

"Shut it."

MINHO :

You were younger by three years, and shared a birthday with him. So whenever your birthdays came around, yo u would always surprise him. But this time, instead of getting him a gift, you tied a ribbon around yourself and bought a cake. The walk to the dorms from your apartment was just 5 minutes away, and you thankfully didn't get any weird stares.

"Happy birthday Oppa." You shouted, barging into his room once Changbin let you in. "Guess what your present is?"

"You?" Minho asked in surprise, fighting back a laugh. "This is the worst idea you've come up with, by the way."

"Actually, it's great. More for me to blackmail you with." He said, quickly snapping a photo before you could react. "Great present."

CHANGBIN :

Changbin was a little bit hesitant to let the boys meet you, as you were too precious for them to break your innocence.

Not that you were innocent. He just thought you were.

You had a boyfriend, Jungwon from Enhyphen, and you'd done nothing more than make out, but to your brother, that was blasphemy.

"Oppa, I have a boyfriend." You said bravely, sitting in front of him. He'd finally allowed the boys to meet you, and immediately it was like having 7 more brothers.

"Oh heck no." Changbin said, shooting up. "Where is he? Imma kill that boy."

"Bin, calm down." Chan instructed. "Sorry, Y/N."

"I'm used to it." Y/N replied, smiling. "It's not like I didn't bite his ex girlfriend."

"You what?" Felix burd tout laughing, imagining the petite girl biting someone.

"It bled pretty badly, do I'd say it made an impression." Y/N said, looking proud at what she'd just revealed.

HYUNJIN :

You were Hyunjin's twin, and had the exact same features minus your hair was way longer. You also shared your dramatic genes. Once, he stepped on your foot and you ranted at him for two hours as to why you were so upset. You didn't talk to him for two weeks.

"Foods here!" You called, and Hyunjin immediately got up.

"Did you get samgyeopsal?"

"Of course I did." You said offendedly. "You think I'd forget the family favourite?"

Your parents just sighed and shook their heads, knowing you could bicker for hours, ignoring everything else.

"Whatever, let's eat." He scowled, pushing you. You glared and pushed him back, resulting in a mini WWE match in the living room.

"And Y/N emerges as the winner!" You cried victoriously, fist pumping.

JISUNG:

Okay, he was older, so what? You were wayyyy more mature than he was. You were 20 and him 22. But while he pretended that Hyunjin had killed him, you just snorted and brushed it off. You'd met your brothers friends, and boy were they loud. Sometimes you even had to reject his affection because the others...

The other should whine and complain that you always accepted Jisungs affection while yo u rejected them. So began the whole thing of Jisung being rejected.

"Not now." You said, slapping his arm away when it tried to go over ryour shoulders. "Oppa let go."

"My baby sis doesn't love me!" Jisung cried dramatically, falling to the floor.

"Big baby." You muttered dragging him off the floor. "Do it again and I'll tell mom about the broken vase at home."

"No!" Jisung said. "I'm sorry!"

The others just laughed at the hold Y/N held over Jisung.

FELIX :

Again Olive (Olivia) Riesa (Rachel)

Like on Chan's reaction, you were his youngest sibling. Now 17, you were doing your high school exams and stressing over everything.

"Relax, nothing bads going to happen." Felix said, patting your shoulder. "It's going to be fine."

"No, I'm this close to failing and Madam Xi said she'd fail me for the rest of the year if I falimed this test."

"I think you got it in the bag though." Fix said. "Olive did. And Riesa."

"Thanks." You said. "But I still have three days to do this. So please can I study."

"Fine."

SEUNGMIN :

Seungmin was the worst older brother you had. Ever. He was always nosily poking his face einto your stuff. He always ptevente dyou from meeting boys and if you did, he wod ground you. You couldn't argue as he was your guardian. Your parents both passed away when you were kids, and you loved with your cousin, Taehyung. Until last year, when Seungmin got your legal guardianship.

"Ready, punk?"

"I'm ready." You smirked, and you guys set off, venturing out into the ocean on your little sailboat. Seungmin had been given time off work and you were on school holiday, so you had decided to go on an adventure. "Just make sure we don't get lost."

"I mean, if we get lost-" Seungmin started, but a glare from you shut him up. "Nah, we won't."

"Good."

As the sun set, you and your brother made your way back to the shore and got everything out of the boat. Returning it, you realosed that you never really told your brother you loved him.

"Oppa."

"Hm?"

"I love you"

"I love you too."

JEONGIN :

"Yah! Yang Jeongin!"

"What?"

"Why is there a batman figurine in my drawer?"

"Uhh..." Oops, he got caught and now you were in a towering rage.

"Tell me now!"

"I snuck into your room."

"You went into my room! Moommmm Oppa went into my room!"

"Yah! Yang Jeongin!" His mother shouted. "Don't go into your sisters room!"

"Okay, fine!" Jeongin hollered back, smugly smirking at his younger sister, who scoffed and locked her door.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids x sister reader #jeongin x reader #seungmin x reader #felix x reader #Jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #minho x reader #skz x female reader #chan x reader #bang chan #yang jeongin

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tagoalong1806 · 2 years

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Innocences of Tagalong

Warning:NSFW,adult themes,cussing,angst,death and grief?pregancy?

Summary:when tables turn and new jobs lead to something it over turns news for the worst and leaves questions up in the air for everyone with what to do next

Antonio x female reader

Part 4

(Short chapter but I’ve been writing all night and it’s 4:30 am and imma pass out but I wanted to get this out there)

——————

When Antonio woke up last night replayed in his head,thinking about you looking up at him overwhelmed by pleasure,you couldn’t even say a word as he smiled down at you,as he told you that he had you.As you had rolled your hips to meet his thrusts moving in sync.

He had got up and ready for woke seeing his kids were gone and already at school assuming you had left early for your new job and didn’t wanna wake him up so he could get few more hours of sleep before work which he was thankful for.Until he realized why you weren’t answering his texts after a case answering a voicemail hearing your voice play out overly soft and quiet.

“And I wanted you to know that by the way,you saved me.know knowing that your here,for Eva and Diego it makes it easier for me.I don’t really wanna say goodbye,because this one means forever.but I will always be in the stars watching over you and the kids.I know six feet will never of felt so far,but I will always be one step beside you,but here I am alone because heaven knew the answer to this end it hurts so much to have to go,but just know I don’t want you to lay in tears in bed all night alone without me by your side there will always be a next person I want you to still open your heart to love,like you made me.you let me know I was loved,when I couldn’t feel a thing” the voicemail becoming dead silence,the kinda silence antonio never wanted to here,as he dropped his phone feeling his hands shaking.

The number 1806,would haunt antonio for the rest of this life but he knew he had to be strong not only for their kids but for her.she wouldn’t wanna see him go down the path he knew he was gonna go down without her,so he had to pull it together.as he rushed to the hospital he was met with Will who looked crushed though he was just her doctor as he tried to stop antonio from seeing her.

“Antonio did you knew she was pregnant” those words shattered him because that means you wouldn’t of even knew you had been if you didn’t tell him.though he saw your commander from the rangers walking out of your room breaking your phone in half and throwing it in the trash.

But antinio leaves the hospital seeing hank and you outside in the back…You!

He was told you were dead he didn’t know if he was seeing things as he rushed over in a stage of grief and panic.

He hollered your name pulling you into a hug while you crashed into his arms falling to you knees clinging to him.

“Her old commander thought it would be smart to play it off as if she was dead,she has a bounty on her head thanks to Jay” voight says sighing though antonio was frustrated and confused

“But your voicemail if you weren’t really dead why would you send it” he asked you picking you up afraid if he let go you would be gone forever.

“I couldn’t chance it,if they listen and can look at my phone they would know if I’m lying and not doing what I should and would do if I was actually dying” you tell him kissing him gently stroking his cheek with your thumb.

“What about the pregnancy?” He asks the final question which shocked you surprised.

“Pregnancy?” You ask him not knowing

“Will told me you were pregnant” he exclaims putting his hand in your stomach protective and relived he didn’t lose the one person he loved more then anything in the world besides his kids.

“I didn’t know…I was” you tell him truthfully.

23 notes · View notes

fezphoria · 2 years

Note

Hi!!! I wanted to request a Fez x Reader that relates to Zendaya/Labrinth’s lyric

“Hell, I'll do 25 to life

If it makes me a king

A star in your eyes.”

Where reader is trying to take the blame in 2x08 to help Ash and Fez to not get as much time. But obviously Fez wouldn’t let that happen. Something angsty but also very fluffy cause of protective and in love Fez. ♥️ thx

Fez hits Ash clear across the face with so much force that the kid hits the ground.

Vaguely, you know Fez is telling Ash that he’ll take the fall. You can hear his and Ash’s shivering inhales and exhales. But all you see is the knife fall from Ash’s hand and land on the carpet. Before you can even think about it, you drop to your knees and pick it up. The blood is still hot, and slippery.

You look up to find Fez and Ash both staring at you. Ashtray’s face is blood and tear stained.

“Run.” You say, heart racing. “Take Faye with you.”

“Give me the knife.” Fez answers, his voice hard. Ashtray’s eyes are wide - you’ve never seen him look like that.

“No.”

“I’m not fucking asking.” Fez bites out, and when you stand up he reaches for you but you step back, out of his reach.

“I can’t let either of you take the fall for this.”

Fez looks stricken.

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” He tells you, and when you shake your head, he lunges for you. You’re fast, but not fast enough - it’s easy to forget how agile and strong Fez is. His hand wraps around your wrist and his other tries to pry the blade out from your fingers.

"You're gonna have to kill me if you wanna take the fall for this." He promises. "Imma die before I let something happen to you or Ash."

The undeniable reality of the situation hits you when you see the blood smear on both your hands, when you feel your whole body jolting with each tug he gives your hand.

“Let go.” He orders, and you start to cry. He tugs again, and your body moves with the force of it.

“No.” You plead.

“Look at me.” He says, his grip on your wrist still vice-like. “You need to leave with Ash. I need you to take care of him for me.”

He’s dead serious. You’ve never heard pain in his voice like this, not even when he talks about his grandmother, not even when he talks about his father.

His hand gives your wrist another brutal squeeze and you let go of the boxcutter. It looks so awful, the boxcutter in his hand.

“Take Ash, wash your hands, and go out there with Faye and surrender. They won’t hurt you if you surrender peacefully, you hear me?”

You want to be strong. You have to be strong. And you realize taking the fall for this is the weak thing to do. Fez will still go down for the drugs, and Ash will have nobody at all.

“Okay.” You say, and your voice sounds like you’re underwater. At least, that’s how it sounds to your own ears.

You turn to Ash, and find that he’s already gone.

“Ash?” You call.

Fez whips around, and swears.

“Go find him.” He says, worry coloring his voice.

You’re already halfway out the room, checking Fez’s room, the bathroom, and then finding him bent in front of the washing machine.

“Ashtray, put that shit down.”

He has a box of bullets in one hand, and a rifle in the other.

He looks at you with faux calm and shakes his head.

“If you do this, you will lose Fez forever. And you’ll break his fucking heart.” You say. “Come with me, wash your hands, and I promise to take care of you.”

Ash looks his age, for once. The smear of blood under his nose almost looks like he got hurt playing outside, or roughhousing with a friend. You want to wipe it away and hold him and tell him everything will be okay, like he’s just scraped his knee badly and needs a kiss to make it better.

“What about him?” He asks, and your heart leaps at the fact that he’s even speaking with you.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll visit, we’ll call, we’ll write. I don’t fucking know, Ash. What matters is neither of you are dead.”

Ash looks like he’s almost listening to you. He hardly ever obeys the man who raised him, so there’s less incentive for him to listen to you, his brother’s girlfriend. But you know he loves you, even if it’s in his own way, even if his ideal world is just him and his brother against the world.

And you’re not being fair with the guilt trip you’re about to pull, but you don’t care about playing dirty right now.

“I couldn’t take it if something happened to the both of you. I couldn’t live with that.” Your voice is shaking, and it’s not fake. “Please.”

Then you tug the gun out of his hand and toss it back into the washing machine.

“Let’s wash our hands.” You say, and when Ashtray blinks, a tear falls down his face. He nods.

You both scrub your hands down at the sink, the water turning pink as it drains.

Ashtray looks like he’s not in his body. You grab his face with one hand, turning his faze from the water to look up at you.

“Go say goodbye to your brother.” You order. “It’s just goodbye for now.”

Then you shove him out the door and follow him down the hall. He splits off to go into the living room and you go into the kitchen, taking hold of Faye by the shoulders.

“Hey.” You keep your voice soft. If Ashtray seemed a little bit out of body, Faye looks like she’s on another planet entirely. “You saved the day. I’m sorry it all went fucking sideways.”

She looks at you, but you’re not sure if she sees you.

“We gotta go, Faye.”

“Where?” She almost turns her head to look at Custer’s body again but you step in front of her.

“Outside. We have to go outside and surrender. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Her hands come up to your wrists, and although her touch is light, the right wrist still aches. You can see a bruise blooming.

She looks at you with her huge eyes, and even though Custer was a piece of shit, your heart still aches for her. She's your friend, and she tried to save all of you, and this is all so beyond fucked up.

“You’ll come with me?” She asks.

“Of course.” You tell her. “They’ll be here any second, go wait by the door for me.”

She nods, and turns to leave without you having to move her.

When you look back, you see Fez kissing the very top of Ashtray’s head.

“Go.” He says, and Ash does so, looking like he wants to cry. He passes by you in the kitchen, taking the stairs down to his room. Through the window, you can see him stand by Faye at the door.

“Baby.” Fez calls, and you turn again. On autopilot, you walk towards him, past Custer’s body, past the blood spatter.

You stand in front of him. Just moments ago, placing the phone in a cup of soda, he looked like he was going to be sick. Now, he’s as calm as ever. Or as calm as one can be. You feel hysterical next to him.

“I love you.” You choke out.

Faye had been right, Fez looks more handsome without the tie. His hands are stained red, though, which takes away from it a bit.

“Look at me.”

You don’t want to. You lift your eyes from his hands, from that fucking gore covered knife, and look him in the eyes.

“You’re my girl, okay? And I’m gonna love you forever.” He says.

The words knock the wind out of you.

“Stop talking like you’ll never get out.” You urge, shaking your head. “It was self defense, he hit Ashtray.”

Fez sighs.

“Give me something to think about when I’m locked up.” He answers, and you grab the front of his shirt and kiss him hard.

Your face is hot, and the tears escape for a second time.

“Don’t cry.” he murmurs, brushing his nose along your own and kissing your cheek. “Don’t cry.”

You draw in a shaky breath, and he kisses you on the corner of your open mouth.

“Kiss me again?” He asks, and you do it immediately, like he’s planted the idea straight into your brain. You bring your hands up to the back of his neck, and you wish he could hold you back, if it wasn’t for the blood on his hands.

“I love you.” You say, breaking the kiss and opening your eyes. He looks right back into your eyes.

“Go.”

The smell of blood is filling your nostrils. Metallic and sour and heavy. You worry for a moment that the smell of it will always remind you of this moment, of this kiss, of Fez.

“I love you.” You repeat, because it’s the only thing you can say to him. You need him to know it.

“I love you.” He says back. “I’d lay down on the railroad tracks for you.”

You let go of him, step away, and turn.

It takes everything in you to not turn back.

When you get to the bottom of the stairs, Faye turns to you with wide eyes.

“I think they’re drilling the door off the hinges.”

You glance at Ashtray, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We surrender!” You shout. “Let us out! We surrender!”

The drilling stops. You step in front of the door, and with a shaking hand, undo all the locks. Then you put your hand on the door knob, twist it, and pull the door open.

#fezco x you #fezco x reader #fez x you #fez x reader #hey anon i know you probably wanted a much longer piece but it's such a short time span in that scene i couldnt really make it longer #i'm sorry!#i hope you enjoy regardless

167 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

#bnha 323 #uraraka ochako #rat principal #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

344 notes · View notes

l-r-christian · 3 years

Note

One-Shot: Male Reader Is Hope's Fraternal Twin Brother, And Is Ignored By The Mikaelsons. Because He Is Born Human( He Isn't But His True Nature Didn't Awake Yet).

It Left Him Filled Wit Loneliness, And Anger At His Family, And Twin. One Day, While Walking In The Woods Getting Home He Gets Attacked By A Vampire, And It Causes Him To Awake His True Nature As A Hellhound.

He Kills The Vampire, And It Leaves Him With Shock That He Isn't Human, And Is Happy He's Not Vulnerable.

So Y/n Gets Home, And The Mikealsons Aren't Home, Y/n Decides To Leave And Train Himself To His Full Potential.

Freya And Hope Can't Track Him Down Due To Y/n Being Immune To Anything Witch Related.

Yo dudes Imma make this so sad just angst though and though. I also did a bit of mixing of Teen Wolf's Hellhound and some of my own ideas.

Warnings: Heavy angst

Human was what Y/N was unlike his younger twin Hope who was in all sense all powerful. Ever since their birth Y/N was over shadowed by Hope as he didn't understand when it happen but his family began to ignore him and favor Hope. As the once proud Klaus showing off his first born son was now ignored his son and all his attention was on Hope.

"Not now Y/N, Hope needs my help." Was what Y/N heard over the years as he got older, now while Hope took after Hayley. Y/N was more like their father than anyone care to notice as the boy loved art like his father, had mostly Klaus's features but more dangerously Y/N inherited Klaus's temper something Marcel learned the hard.

"Y/N is only human Marcel. He can't harm you." Rebekah told the vampire after Marcel had told her that the boy had stabbed him the throat with a butter knife. At age seventeen now Y/N was used to being alone and having anger for his family how they seemly pretend he wasn't a Mikaelson.

"Where ya going kiddo?" Marcel asked seeing the teen putting on his shoes and had his backpack with him. Y/N looked at the vampire with a glare as Marcel was used to the anger in the boys eyes and mentally cursed the Mikaelsons for not keeping an eye on boy as there was nothing more dangerous than an angry Mikaelson with nothing to lose.

"Why would you care? Do yourself a favor and stop caring for the useless Mikaelson." Y/N tells Marcel anger bleeding though his words as he left the compound and headed for the woods. The woods was where Y/N spent most of his time to draw or to let his anger out but like his father he still held onto it. Y/N sat drawing weird circles that he had been seeing in his dreams lately then got up seeing it was getting dark and as he walked home he was attacked by two vampires.

"Man Klaus is going to pay. And what better way than to drain his kid and leaving the body on his door step."

"Yeah I guess he should have kept a better eye on the weakling." The vampire holding Y/N said and a flood of anger filled Y/N just as the vampire sank his fangs into the boy's neck when there was a sudden burning. The vampire let the boy go pushing roughly as he screamed and Y/N watch the vampire burst into flames.

"What do you do to my friend brat." Vampire two growled grabbing Y/N by his throat and the boy growled deeply as his eyes flashed red. The anger of years being ignored and loneliness was let loose as Y/N tore the heart from the vampire's chest. As things calmed down Y/N was surprised and stared as his hands as happiness bubbled in his chest as he realized he wasn't useless and maybe his family would care for him again.

"Dad! Mom!" Y/N shouted running into the compound with a grin that fell as he noticed he could hear everything but his family. Y/N found they left him so he made up his mind grabbing a bigger backpack his packed his things and didn't bother to leave a note.

"Fine I'll leave and get stronger without them if they don't want me then fine." Y/N growled as he left his childhood home not looking back. Two months, it took two months for someone in the family to notice that Y/N wasn't around but they brushed it off as the human boy was with Marcel but no he was in the mountains of Montana with an older man that Y/N ran into his week away from home. The man whose name was Alias, was an Hellhound that was almost as old as the boy's family and Alias took the boy in trained him to control his hound form and hellfire which when Y/N learned he could do that the boy was excited.

"Calm yourself pup." Alias told him as he had the boy sit in front of a fire the first day of training. At first Alias was annoyed with Y/N at first but the boy grew on him and the older Hellhound became a father figure to Y/N.

"Hey Al why are in the mountains?" Y/N asked following the man.

"Going to train you in the cold so you could control molten lava veins. From there we are going to wake your full potential, pup."

"Why the cold?"

"Can't risk you burning yourself until you get control." Alias tells Y/N as they came up to a cabin. While in New Orleans Hope and Freya was trying to find the older twin with a locater spell but so far they came up with nothing.

"Where could he be Elijah?" Klaus growled pacing angry that his first born was gone. Elijah watched Klaus closely while Kol called Davina to come help.

"I understand you are upset Niklaus but we will find the boy." Elijah said as Hayley came in crossing her arms.

"The wolves lost his scent just out of the city." Hayley said getting everyone's attention as they hoped they could find the boy soon. A year passed and Y/N had unlocked his full potential and had bested Alias many times in training. But sadly the boy's father figure had passed and Alias had passed his family Crest to the boy asking him to spead his ashes in New Orleans.

"Don't worry about me, pup. You'll fine as you are strong." Alias told Y/N the night he passed as their foreheads touched and in his honor Y/N howled and swore he hear othe Hellhounds howled too. Y/N walked though the streets of New Orleans carrying the urn holding Alias's ashes while on his way home Y/N had ran into other Hellhounds apologize for his lost and if he needed anything they were happy to help.

"Y/N?" Y/N heard Hope's voice and he turned saw his sister who shocked to see him. Y/N was no long thin and kinda scrawny, he was now lean with muscles with five a clock shadow on his nice jaw line.

"Hope." Y/N said his tone not welcoming surprising Hope as she eyes looked at the urn in his arms. Someone called out for Hope making her turn to see who it was then looked back to find Y/N gone and pulled out her phone calling Hayley.

"Mom, I found Y/N."

"May you find peace dad." Y/N said speading Alias's ashes in the bayou at a cabin the old hound had and left to Y/N.

"Here I thought I was your father?" Klaus said smirking stepping out from the tree line and Y/N looked over his shoulder seeing his father.

"You stopped being my father when I turned six." Y/N said looking back out at the lake as Klaus frowned watching his son. There was something was different about his son and Klaus couldn't put his finger on it but he was going to find out. Y/N was annoyed that suddenly his family would come out to see him while just shut them out and they still didn't know he was a Hellhound.

"How you have fallen hybrid. Your son hates you and now your dau ......." the vampire was cut off by a huge black hound jumped on his chest growling as it tore his thoat out. The hound had glowing orange eyes as it growled killing the rest of the vampires saving Hope and Klaus.

"Is it a wolf, dad?" Hope asked watching the hound look back at them as something about it was haunting.

"No. It is bigger than a wolf." Klaus said as it ran off and both followed it to find it was Y/N come morning.

"Fuck." Y/N muttered rolling his sore shoulders as he still wasn't used to shifting at night going inside to take a cold shower to cool down. Y/N sat down studying a few old books he gotten on his travels as his door opened and Klaus walked in with Elijah and Hayley following.

"Yes please come in Klaus." Y/N said annoyed not looking up from his book.

"You have failed to me you are a Hellhound."

"Because it was none of your business. I made it clear I want nothing to do with any of you."

"Then why come home?"

"If you must know Hayley, I am carrying after my father as protector." Y/N told Hayley there was anger in his voice as Elijah saw the anger in the young Hellhound's eyes that reminded the older Original of Klaus.

"Protector?"

"Yeah, now If you excuse me I got work to do." Y/N said walking out leaving them as they realize they had years of anger and loneliness to undo from the young man unsure if Y/N will ever forgive the family.

#the originals x reader #Mikaelsons x male!reader #Klaus mikaelson x son!reader #Hope Mikaelson x brother!Reader

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

Note

Ok imma lil drunk rn but thats besides the point. Incant stop thinking about balconies. Back in my hoe~ing days I used to LOVE BALCONIES. And i cant stop.thinking about getting dicked donw by Henry on a balcony now

Darling, your wish is my command. Sorry this took so long

Room With A View

Summary: Whilst on holiday with Henry in Southern Italy, the sight of you on your hotel room’s balcony is just too much for Henry’s desires.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Oral Sex, Biting, Unprotected Sex, Creampie.

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites where all of my stories are posted as well. Masterlist got too big for tumblr so can be found on AO3

Resting your camera on the wall of the balcony, you looked over the gorgeous coastline as the sun was starting to set, the white walls of the town buildings shining bright in the oranges and pinks of the sky. A pollen drunk bee bounced from bloom to bloom on the bougainvillea vine that crept up the side of the building and around the balcony, and you watched as it slowly flew away. The warm breeze caressed the bare skin of your legs, your soft dress billowing in the wind as it moved gently around your thighs.

The sound of the shower shutting off brought your attention back to the present, a small smile forming as you thought to the leisurely day of shopping in the boutiques you’d done with Henry, followed by a rather impromptu game of basketball with some local kids in a courtyard when they’d recognised him and had invited him to show them a few moves. You had happily watched from the sidelines, after all your wedge sandals were hardly made for sports, but you had taken joy in seeing Henry work up a sweat despite his soft linen attire.

Upon your return to your hotel suite Henry had decided to take a shower before you went out for dinner, and as much as you’d have liked to join him, it would have taken you considerably longer to get ready afterwards, plus you wanted to get some shots of the sunset.

The view was stunning, snapping a few shots before glancing back at just the right moment to see Henry emerging from the small bathroom, towel tied dangerously low around his hips, skin still glistening as water droplets hung in his chest hair. You silently gnawed at your lip, squeezing your thighs together to try and stem the arousal that was rapidly growing between them, knowing that if you didn’t get the shots of the sunset at that very moment the sun would have set. You should however have known that they were going to be the last shots of the evening you would take, as seconds later his strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist and you felt his chest against your back;

“What’cha doing?” Henry’s deep voice held a timbre of mischief and before you could answer you felt his teeth nibbling against your bare shoulder. Leaning back against his firm body your ass nestled against his crotch and you could feel the tell-tale twitch that told you dinner plans were going to be later than expected. A deep hum of appreciation resonated through his chest, his hands slowly pulling your dress up as he started to fluidly rut his hardening length against your ass, his lips moving to your other shoulder where his sharp teeth started to playfully bite, the pressure increasing as he progressed.

Henry pulled his hips back just a little so he could lift your dress over your ass, a small whistle escaping his lips;

“You mean to tell me you’ve been walking around in this short dress with just this flimsy excuse for underwear on all day?” he hooked his finger beneath the elastic of your lacy thong, pulling it to the side before that same digit found its way to your lips. Another hum of appreciation rumbled through his chest as he found you wet, seeking out your clit and giving it a few circular strokes before trailing his hand down a little to push that finger into your velvet channel;

“Hmmmn, not quite ready for me yet”

Pulling his hand away he quickly spun you to face him, capturing your mouth for a fierce kiss before lifting you as if you weighed little more than a feather to let you sit on the stone surround of the balcony;

“Henry!” you hissed, knowing what he was planning as he quickly got to his knees. Those blue eyes sparkled like the sea that surrounded the peninsular, except there was far more danger in those eyes than the mediterreanan sea. Clinging to the edge of the stone wall you nibbled on your lip as he parted your legs and pressed soft kisses up your inner thighs, before taking hold of your underwear and with one swift tug snapped it at the gusset. His gaze only left yours as he took in your glistening petals, before the blue mischief was back upon you as his wide tongue swept through your folds.

There was no way of being silent when Henry ate you out, his tongue was everywhere; wide and juicy, he didn’t hold back with his noises of appreciation at the feel and taste of you. For you your precarious position gave another element of excitement, and as you scrambled for something to anchor yourself on one hand found his still shower damp curls, the other grasped at the metal trellis beside you, the pink bougainvillea flowers resting against your hand as your fingers curled around the metal framework holding it up. The rub of his nose against your clit and the days stubble on your softest of skin helped to bring on your orgasm, his tongue deep within you as you soaked his face with your essence, the pleasure surging through you as he held you tight before pulling away just a little to grin at you. Sliding his hand between your legs he gently pushed two fingers inside you, before pulling them out and lifting them to your mouth;

“Taste how sweet you are”

Holding his wrist you took those fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his digits as you sucked at them. Looking down you saw how his towel had parted where his thighs were wide apart, his fat cock standing hard and proud from between the pristine white of the towel. With his fingers still in your mouth he stood and wriggled his hips just slightly to let the towel fall to the floor. Towering over you he made you feel tiny as you sat on the balcony wall, pulling his fingers from your mouth;

“Good girl. Now turn around and bend over”

There was no arguing or disagreeing, you wanted to do it and followed Henry’s firm command, gasping as he kicked your legs further apart and you felt the blunt tip of his weeping cock slide through your folds before catching on your empty hole. With a grunt he thrust into you, growling as your walls hugged his flesh so tight at the thick insertion parting your insides.

“Oh fuck” you muttered, breathless as your body struggled to get used to being so full. No matter how many times the two of you had sex, each time felt like the first all over again, your body struggling to take his girth before it finally yielded and you felt pleasure like you’d never felt before.

Henry was a force of nature when he fucked you, the raw power in his body meant you had three orgasm’s for every one of his, your mind as fucked as your pussy would be from the amount of serotonin in your bloodstream where you would end up lust drunk afterwards. As he ploughed into your body you struggled to stifle the sounds of ecstasy bubbling from your lips, before with a grunt he pulled you flush with his chest, one hand wrapped around your ribcage as the other covered your mouth;

“So fucking good, your cunt feels so tight as you cum…” his teeth bit into your neck as his hips worked quickly, the pleasure pain signals hitting your brain drawing another orgasm from you as Henry started to chase his own. His hips slammed into your behind, the sound of flesh upon flesh making it painfully obvious to anyone within earshot what was happening on the shrouded balcony above them as they walked along the footpath below. Screaming into his hand you came again, and with one final thrust Henry pushed deep and you felt him release his thick load deep inside you.

For the longest moment he just held you, pressing soft kisses to your shoulders whilst still nestled deep within you, before he softened and pulled out, turning you in his arms to just hold you tenderly;

“Still want to go out for dinner tonight? Or would you prefer room service”

“Just give me a moment to clean up then we can try that seafood bistro we passed this afternoon”

A few moments later you had emerged from the bathroom having cleaned up best you could, adding a touch of makeup before stepping into the room and grinning at Henry as you shimmied out of the ruined panties and tossed them in the wastebasket in the corner. Grabbing your purse you smiled at Henry and hooked your arm through his as he paused;

“You don’t want to put replacements on?”

“Nope” you grinned at him, knowing the thought of you going commando would drive him insane for the whole meal.

“You wicked woman. We’re gonna need to get a table with a cloth on it so people can’t see my dick getting hard at the thought of your cum soaked pussy bare for me”

With a grin you pulled him out of the door, knowing it would be a quick meal and you’d be back fucking in the room sooner than you expected.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you

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uwuwriting · 3 years

Text

Breaking in w/ Hawks, Shoto and Dabi

Request: I read another post about ppl breaking in your shared house with the boys not knowing that you are inside and hurting you and I was like well this would be interesting with their kids in the mix. So i'm here to provide you with the following request ppl breaking in and immobilizing you while you're still awake and they try to go into your kids’ room with Shoto, Hawks and maybe Dabi or Aizawa- anonymous

Oh this is a nice little concept. It's very interesting. I’m happy to deliver. I have been devastated by chapter 290, if anyone hurts Shoto imma start a riot and if Dabi doesn’t kill Endeavor i will. I’m thinking of making a double post today so this one and a kny post but we’ll see. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: cursing, mentions of blood, crying but fluff in the end.

Hawks/Keigo Takami

-You were waiting for Keigo to come home after a long day.

-The twins were a nightmare to put to bed today and you were exhausted.

-Both of them wanted Keigo to tuck them in for some weird reason and they just wouldn’t accept your cuddles or attempts.

-So after a tiresome two hours of trying and failing to calm them down you called your husband on facetime and they went to bed.

- “I’ll be home soon, do you want me to bring you anything?”

- “No, no just you.”

-So after taking a shower and checking on the kids you relaxed on the couch, turning on the TV while scrolling though tik tok.

-Not even half an hour later you heard jiggling coming through the door.

-Assuming it was Keigo you got up and went to greet him but who you met at the entrance of your house was a complete stranger.

-You and the two bulgars stared at each other for a solid minute before you scrambled to get to the kids’ room and lock yourself in there.

-But one of them tackled you to the floor before you could reach the pastel colored door and pinned you down, binding your hands with a cloth.

- “I thought you said he wasn’t here man? What is this?”

-They had tied your legs to a chair, putting a makeshift gag in your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as they bickered back and forth.

-Your eyes kept darting from the front door to your kids’ room.

-He said he was almost home, he should be here at any moment.

- “Just stick to the plan, she doesn’t change anything.”

- “Doesn’t change anything? You tackled the n. 2 heros’ partner and you think that nothing is gonna happen?”

-You couldn’t care less about their words as you saw the light of the baby monitor light up.

-Eyes widening, you tried to get out of your restraints to turn it off but to no avail, the soft babbles of your son could be heard coming from the device sending the whole room into an uncomfortable silence.

-Before you know it, the one that tackled you pushed his partner towards you.

- “Keep her in check while I go pay a visit to the other room.”

-Managing to get the gag out of your mouth, your eyes frantic, you tried to reason with him.

- “I’ll give you whatever you want just stay away from that door, please.”

- “The number 2 hero has plenty of money. I bet he would be willing to give a handsome amount for that brat in there. What do you say babycakes?

- “Dude you’re taking it too far-”

- “Stay away from them!”

-You realized your mistake a little too late, the new information making the man's eyes light up.

-Two cries came from the twins’ room due to the commotion and your panic rose.

-But then you saw it.

-The single feather hovering over the mans’ head, as red and vibrant as ever.

-You let out a sigh of relief as a wave of red feathers flooded your living room, cutting you free from your restraints.

-Without missing a beat you sprinted to the door, stepping inside and locking it.

-Both of them were awake and teary eyed but at the sight of you they calmed down a bit.

-Taking them out of their cribs, you sat in the far corner with both of them in your lap waiting for the moment Keigo would knock on your door.

-One would assume that being part of the hero industry, although you weren’t a full blown hero yourself, mere bulgars wouldn’t really faze you.

-In reality you hadn’t been afraid for your own life, you couldn’t care less about yourself at that moment, but when you realized that they knew about the twins everything slowly fell apart.

-After what seemed like an eternity a soft knock came from the locked door.

- “Y/N, dove, open up.”

-Raising to your feet, you almost ripped the door handle out of position in your rush.

-Once Keigo came into view you didn’t miss a beat before pressing yourself close to his chest, the twins just happy to see their dad.

- “There are my favorite Takamis!” he said kissing their heads as his wings enclosed all of you.

- “Dove they are gone, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re alright.”

-The news report the next morning said that two men were found on the top of the police department butt naked.

Todoroki Shoto

-Poor man had merely gone to get take out.

-He hadn’t been gone for that long.

-But apparently the villains had been waiting for him to leave the house so they could go in.

-You were still inside with your daughters; the twins chasing each other in their matching onesies while you sat on the living room couch with your youngest.

-You heard the front door open suddenly and at first you assumed that Shoto had forgotten his wallet again.

-But the footsteps were too heavy and his voice didn’t echo through the entrance hall.

-He always said something when he came in and his footsteps have become lighter ever since the girls were born.

-Sensing that something was off you placed your toddler in her crib and motioned towards the twins.

- “Stay with your sister and no matter what you hear you do NOT come into the hallway. Understood?”

- “But what-”

- “Rei do I make myself clear?”

-Nodding their heads they took their seats in front of the crib, Ren squeezing her hand through the bars to gently grab her sister's chubby hand.

-Taking a deep breath you entered the hallway and lo and behold, two strangers were staring back at you.

- “Can I help you gentlemen?”

-After a few seconds the one closest to the door flung himself at you while the other one started digging through his pockets.

-Swiftly dodging the attack, you grabbed his wrist and swang him with incredible force to the wall, letting go of him as you turned your attention to the other one.

-And then you felt a sharp pain course up your right leg as a heaviness settled on your chest.

-The room began to spin while the air was knocked out of your lungs.

-You kneeled down, hand over your heart as you tried to use your quirk.

-Nothing happened though; it was like you didn’t have one at all.

- “Quirk cancelling bullets, aren’t they neat?”

-The man stared down at you as ever so slowly your senses came back at you.

- “I can still beat your ass even without a quirk.”

- “I don’t think you’ll do that.”

-Angry voices could be heard from the other room before the man you had slammed into the wall appeared again, blood dripping from his nose and onto the snow white hair of your daughter.

-Ren looked at you, tears forming in her eyes as a red flash of hair jumped onto the man.

-Rei was having none of it.

-Taking that opportunity you kicked the one in front of you in the groin before separating the girls from the other, sprinting into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind you.

-Laying the girls on the couch you grabbed one of the fireplace tools and got into a fighting position.

-Soon enough the door opened revealing none other than Shoto himself.

- “Are you all alright? Did they hurt you?”

-He looked absolutely disheveled, his hair going in different directions as his gaze frantically scanned all four of you, his eyes lingering at your slightly raised leg.

-The twins hopped off the couch and tackled his legs.

-Shoto crouched down hugging them both tightly as they started to sniffle into their dad’s chest.

- “T-they hurt mama and t-tried to hurt Ren.”

-He shot you a look but you waved him off, deciding to instead check on the baby before joining them on the living room floor.

- “I won’t let them touch you ever again, even if it's the last thing I do.”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki *I ain't never letting this go*

-In reality the dudes didn’t know you were preggos.

-You were too early on so you couldn’t tell you were preggo but still.

-They knew that you had something going with Dabi and that’s why they wanted to fuck with you.

-They thought that they would gain something from trying * key word trying * to take you.

-They were wrong though because a) they got their asses kicked by you and b) they got fried once Dabi found them.

-You were chilling at Dabis’ while he was out to get you some mustard and a chocolate bar because cravings, when you heard the door open.

-Immediately you knew it wasn’t Dabi.

-You would’ve heard him grumbling under his breath about forgetting to take money with him * bc you have been pushing him to pay for stuff every once in a while* or he would be shouting at you that your disgusting meal had arrived.

-Neither of these things happened so something was up.

-Not bothering to get up because you didn’t give two fucks, you waited for whoever stepped inside the apartment to show themselves.

-You are a villain hun you ain’t about to stress over some crusty ass dude trespassing into your house because you could obliterate his ass from the face of the earth in negative five seconds.

-Whispers and a frantic “But what if he comes back?” was all you heard before the ground breaking phrase left their mouth.

- “Who cares? She’s a woman, how strong can she be anyways?”

-You were livid.

-It might have been a mix of your hormones along with the fact that that was hella sexist but you were ready to beat some crusty ass.

-Laying down on the couch and pretending to be asleep you waited for them.

-And soon enough you felt the three figures standing over you.

- “See easy as hell.”

- “And hot as hell, please don’t forget that.”

-All three of them stared down at you like that pikachu meme for a solid minute before scrambling to activate their quirks.

- “We don’t wanna hurt a pretty girl like you so please don’t cause a fuss.”

- “Oh baby you think you can hurt me? Please have you seen who I’m dating?”

-Slowly standing up you flicked your wrist and one of them dropped to the floor.

-You made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water right when one of them ran into you, pinning you to the counter.

- “Watch it there bud I’m carrying precious carg-”

- “Shut up you fucking slut! You’ll come with us whether you like it or not.”

- “The only person who can boss me around is not currently in this room so I suggest you let go.”

- “Yeah you should probably let her go.”

-At the sound of his deep voice you knew that they were dead men.

-The one basically on top of you stared at Dabi in horror as you pushed him off of you.

-Making your way to your boyfriend you gave him a small peck while he rested a hand over you stomach as a silent ‘are you okay?’.

-Shrugging you took the bag from his hands and went into your bedroom, not caring to see what he was about to do to them.

-You were hungry anyways.

- “Now which one of you wants to be roasted first?”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @bemorefiction @ezoyscorner

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evita-shelby · 2 years

Text

Day 10:basil

Taglist: @joossieisdabomb @johnathancanines @peakyblindas @kissmyquill

(posting a day early because imma be busy tomorrow)

Ethel Smith despite all odds kept a small herb garden on her window boxes.

He caught a glimpse of her granddaughter when Uncle Charlie helped her off his boat.

Dark hair, tan skin dressed in mourning black and holding a potted bush of Holy Basil.

Every morning he rides he sees her tending the small basil bushes on the window box. She wears garden gloves, but once or twice he sees her pulling out weeds with her manicured hands.

She’s weeding it when he stops with Monogham Boy with no reasonable excuse as to why he wants to see her.

Thomas Shelby had closed the door on love the moment Greta died, but Grace had opened the window and now he felt ready enough to open the door again.

“He likes you.”

Animals like her, part of her many charms, he thinks. It was no mystery why everyone just seemed to like her the second they met her. Here he was just looking for any moment to see her.

Eva’s hands aren’t strangers to hard work like Grace’s. Grace could never have built a life here, she was too used to luxury and commodity to enjoy it on the long run. The woman in front of him would be happy in poverty just as she’d be happy in luxury.

“It’s a witch thing, when I was a kid I used to come home with any animal that crossed my path. Once I went to pick blackberries in the garden and brought back the rattlesnake nesting underneath it.”

The morning is windy and some stray hair escaped her ponytail. He likes her, always has he thinks, but now something in him tugs him to her like a string on a kite.

“What happened to it?” he reaches out to brush the hair away from her face and he can’t think of anything else, but how’d her lips feel against his. Eva steps back, flustered. He mutters an apology, but she shakes her head.

“One of the servants, a ranch hand I think, killed it while I was at mass with my family. I let it sleep in my bed with me. I can't imagine Petra the Maid's face when pulled the blankets and found it.” She keeps feeding basil to his horse, but keeps herself at a distance that can only be interpreted as friendly.

Between the strong smell of basil and her soft laugh he realized he can’t deny it anymore, he admits to himself. He's falling for her.

#tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #oc fanfiction #eva smith shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #between the shadow and the soul #april writing challenge

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fluffywolverine · 3 years

Text

so season 6 of lucifer came out.

there were some things that i liked, but generally i hated it. i believe that was SUCH. BAD. WRITING and it left me frustrated. so i decided to write down all things that pissed me off and sometimes i try to fix this by giving other ideas that – in my opinion – would have made the story better. Check my points out and feel free to add your points of view. without further ado: let’s talk.

- imma start with the big one – fucking time travel. ok I generally hate this trope in the media, because it’s complicated and often leads to some logical mistakes – and they happened here. so rory time travels because of her anger which was caused… by her anger?? i think this was unnecessary. it also brings trouble with this whole free will vs. fate discourse. lucifer says, that he chooses free will… but at the same time he goes the path of his fate. he disappears from rory’s life, because he HAS TO in order of the events of the season to happen. just because he chose to do it, doesn’t mean it’s free will.

- lucifer becomes the very thing he desperately didn’t want to become. “bUt It WaS fOr ThE gReAtEr GoOd” screw this bullshit, if writers wanted to make it better, they could have easily do so. they could have altered the rules of time travel so that his choice of staying could have resulted in rory disappearing. yes, that would have been heart-breaking, but it would have been a great lesson for lucifer, that he can’t make the same mistakes his father did.

- chloe and Lucifer get a child without even talking about it. “bUt MaYbE tHeY tAlKeD aBoUt It We JuSt DiDn’T sEe It” you may say. but the point of writing anything - whether it’s a book or a script – is to show any thing that matters. and talking about having kids is one of the most things any couple should do. also not every couple needs to have kids and forcing deckerstar to have it feels so far-fetched. this thread was very unnecessary.

- rory herself is a big problem. to begin with – she wanted to KILL her FATHER. i get her frustration, but commiting a murder?? just because he wasn’t there for her?? I would have thought that chloe taught her better, taught her that, like, killing people is bad. turns out she did not. secondly… she just isn’t necessary here. i elaborate later so in conclusion – her thread could be altered with michael’s and it would have made much more sense. i also don’t like the actress (why was she blinking so much??) so i certainly didn’t help.

- of course ella has to end up with a boyfriend. because earlier she always ended up with “bad boys” and now, without any help, she is just able to have a healthy relationship! yay! for me this creates a toxic view, that in order to be happy one HAS TO be in a relationship, because being alone is aLwAyS bAd. well, it’s not.

- i also have troubles with lucifer starting up a foundation for her. firstly, he didn’t ask her. secondly it – AGAIN – shows, that anything good ella got, was because of another man. firstly because of her relationship with carol, secondly because of lucifer’s idea. it could have been so easily altered! there could have been a scene of a conversation e.g. with amenadiel where she expressed a will to do better and be better for someone (given that she sees a lot of dark in herself). amenadiel could have then told her, that she is an inspiration and that it is her biggest strength. that could have been where ella came up with an idea to start a foundation blah blah – it’s just a rough idea but I believe that written well, it could have been so much better;

- and the last thing about ella – of course she had to find out about celestial stuff because sHe WaS tHe OnLy OnE rEmAiNiNg. umm what about trixie? i'll come back to her later. ella was portrayed as the only one believing in god and having her seeing that he really exists ruins the concept of faith. it’s not about knowing something exists, it’s about believing in it.

- WHERE THE FUCK IS MICHAEL. i must admit that i loved this character AND I CAN’T STAND HOW AWFULLY HE WAS TREATED HERE. so at the end of season 5 lucifer says “everyone deserves a second chance, even you michael". and what does he do then? COMMANDS HIS TWIN TO CLEAR THE FLOOR IN HELL. yes, i agree that michael should have been punished for his rebellion plan, but… he already has his wing cut off. now he’s stuck in hell, with no way out and is he supposed to learn his lesson? this is cruel. instead of this the entire season could have been centred on him – his journey to self-acceptance, learning how manipulating someone is toxic and starting to realise how to be a better person. at the end he could have become god (because amenadiel is such an obvious choice), which would create a beautiful connection – michael in heaven and his twin in hell.

- lucifer doesn’t feel like being god and that’s cool. damn. people died for him to win this place and he’s like “actually you know guys i’m not the right person bye”. while i believe that anyone should step out if they have a reason, but at the same time lucifer should have faced any consequences of his decisions. falling frog and kool aid in the river are not enough.

- adam’s plot feels just quickly sketched, not actually written. i really appreciate this take on toxic masculinity but it all felt too fast-paced. it’s good that they show this idea of “strong and not-showing-any-feelings man” kind of attitude, but it is impossible for ANYONE (especially The ManTM) to change their mind in a matter of a few days. it takes weeks, months, years even, especially given that adam is like a gazillion years old, he should have especially taken a long time to process this.

- carol is just too pure to exist. he’s also one of the most boring, plain and one-dimensional character i’ve ever seen. i feel like they gave him a problem with alcohol because the writers were like “hmmmmm he has to have some weakness. LET’S MAKE HIM AN ALCOHOLIC”. we don’t see any signs of his everyday struggle, why did he fell into this problem, how did struggle. it just feels like a dull plot device to show that he has flaws. oh and also he’s so pure that he doesn’t mind ella BREAKING INTO HIS HOUSE. acceptance should have boundaries and violating someone’s personal space isn’t right.

- why did they forget about trixie again? yes, i know that scarlett estevez had another project but this does not justify the bad writing. the girl lost her father and we only see her crying once because of that. no signs of this affecting her everyday life, not showing any consequences of her relationships with other people, not glimpse of any change in her behaviour. oh and also she loses lucifer too because time travel! great idea, writers! losing another close to her person would have been soooooo good for her psychic for sure.

- i also hate the idea that suddenly rory becomes the only child they care for. where is trixie when they spend their day on the beach? where is she when her mother dies? did writers forget about her as well as they did about michael?

- amenadiel being a police officer is… problematic. i was looking forward to this thread, i was kinda scared too and it turned out… meh. i’m white and not American, so this of course does not involve me at all, but i felt like this was not enough. harris basically said that there is nothing they can do to make it better for black folks. even though chloe and amenadiel want to make everything more just, we don’t actually see any change. the only thing is that harris becomes a detective (right? i’m not sure if i understood it correctly, so correct me if i’m wrong, please) which is a total contradiction of what she said before. suddenly she does not have to protect people anymore?

- in season 5 they stated that heaven and hell need to be fixed, as the system is unfair and unjust. at the end we don’t see any change, the only thing that is different is lucifer helping damned souls. it doesn’t help at all! these people still go to hell, they still suffer and there’s nothing that changed here! plus there is also this thing, that a sociopath who murdered people in cold blood goes to heaven (because he does not feel any guilt) and a person abused by her parents/partner/whoever goes to hell (because have been manipulated to feel guilt).

- dan making amends with trixie while… there wasn’t really anything to make amends about. like, most of the parents make mistakes while upbringing their children, but does this make them unworthy of heaven? i would have preferred dan to slowly regain his self-consciousness, how he positively affected the lives of people around him and by doing so – through conversations or maybe reliving some of the memories, he could have proved to himself that he is worthy of love and redemption.

phew, what a ride. i really liked dan being reunited with charlotte (it went just as i imagined) and mazeve dynamics. i even felt like they are finally a real life relationship – with people hurting each other by not understanding each other, but then talking and seeing other’s perspective. generally though, i’m very disappointed.

sorry for any mistakes, lacking commas etc. writing a text this long in not my native language was not easy.

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #lucifer spoilers #lucifer season 6

141 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

More Actor AU

The previous one <-

Ruby:Justice will be swift! Justice will be painful- *pie to the face* Ahhhh! Nora!

Nora:HAHAHAHAHA! I couldn’t resist!

xxxx

Yang:Do you think she thinks less of me?

Jaune:You and Ruby are sisters. You may fight but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.

Yang:Yeah, Ruby...

Jaune:.....Wait are you talking about Blake?

Yang:*caught of guard* Uhhhhh

Jaune:Because why would she think less of you for choosing to act like a first responder?

.......

Ren:*outside* He has a point!

Director:Stick to the script!

xxxx

Raven:Does she have it?

Qrow:You’re going to have be a little bit more specific.

Raven:*slams hand and leans* Does. Salem. Have. The Tape?

Qrow:Tape?

Raven:Yeah the sex tape, it was in the vault.

Qrow:Whaaat? Who’s on it?

Raven:*smirks* Who isn’t on it?

Qrow:Oh shit....*downs whiskey* Tai is gonna kill me!

xxxxx

Apathy:*roaming*

Ruby:Quick, the door!

Weiss:*shakes it* They’re locked!

Yang:Let me-*trips up stairs* agh! My face!

Weiss:Yang! *snickering* Oh gods, are...are you okay?

Yang:Uuuuugggghh. Imma just lie here. Guess we die. *raise head*

Weiss:Uh oh, bloody nose. Time out.

Apathy:*shuffling backwards*

Blake:*on the ground* Imagine, asking grimm just to leave?

xxxxx

Nora:Psst camera man. Pan to Penny.

Penny:*getting make up done* Yo!

Nora:Ready to die a second time!?

Penny:Hell yeah! Gonna make the people cry twice! *puts in red contacts*

xxxxx

Cinder:*chokes Raven* I’m taking what’s mine.

Raven:Last time I checked your name isn’t Tai. So get your hands off my throat. *looks off set*

Tai:*face palming*

Yang:*red* Mom!!

Raven:Someone was thinking it.

xxxxx

Fiona:*reading lines*

Robyn:She’s very focused right now. I think she’s nervous. *grabs megaphone* Cameras go live in five minutes.

Fiona:*tearing up*

Robyn:No wait! I was lying! Please dry those tears!

Fiona:Stop stressing me out! I’m new here.

Robyn:*hugging her* Ssssshhh I’ll rehearse with you.

xxxxx

[Volume 3]

Blake:*getting first aid*

Adam:*staring at camera* Funny thing about Blake Belladonna, she hates reshoots.

Blake:Do not...

Adam:She hates them so much in fact that she’ll do whatever it takes make the first take an absolute masterpiece. Blake Belladonna however also does about half of her stunts. Good stunts too. All those flips and hand to hand, that’s just her being cool. *puts hands together* I’ve worked with her since day one. I’m in most of those actions scenes. So let me tell how insane this girl is.

Blake:Oh geez...

Adam:Ten minute ago, we’re just shooting the scene where her character and my character are fighting. The plan was I “backhand” her and she falls on the ground. Now we’re not perfect. We’ve accidentally grazed each other before. But when I tell you Blake literally just sat there and watched as my hand swung at her....

Blake:Man, I don’t know what happened! *snorting* I knew it was coming, but then the next minute I had no time to go with it.

Adam:Now normally, a sane person would yell cut, but not Blake. I’m looking at her shocked as she’s staring back mouthing “roll with it.” And against judgment, I did.

Blake:It doesn’t get more authentic than that! Plus it only stung.

Yang:Until we finished the scene! We look at you and this red mark is appearing and you’re like “yeah, Adam knocked the hell out of me.”

Adam:And now I feel bad!

Blake:Nah man, perfect scene. Way to improvise.

Yang:Blake Belladonna everyone.

xxxx

Fennec: *dies*

Corsac: Corsac no!!!

Ilia:Wait, your Corsac.

Corsac:Shit, really? Damn, read the long lines all volume.

Ilia:W..wait...*smiling* d..did switch roles? Has no caught that?

Blake:N...no? *looks around* We didn’t right?

Sun:*containg laughter* Please...please tell me we haven’t mixed the roles all season? You audition for...?

Corsec:Fennec. I’m playing Fennec right? *snickering*

Blake:I...uh..how’d we-

Corsec:I’m just fucking with you.

Blake:Oh my god! Dude, I thought we messed up so much shit! My heart!

Crew:*laughing*

Blake:Y’all are jerks. I type the credits don’t scare me like that!

xxxxx

Ghira:*tears cloak off*

Tyrian and Salem: Dayuuuuuum! Look at that man!

Ghira:Pfft, god damn it. You ruined my roar! Hahaha.

xxxxx

Director:Alright Jaune. So in this scene you punch the wall because you just learned about Salem being immortal. Remember to hit hard enough get a good bang for the mic, but we don’t want you breaking your hand or anything.

Jaune:Got it!

Director:And action!

Jaune:*cracks wall*

Everyone:......

Jaune:......

Nora:Welp, he didn’t say anything about breaking the wall.

xxxxxx

Cinder:*holding sister* Diva in the building yall. Introducing mini me.

Ember:I get paid!

Cinder:Yeah you do!

Everyone:(The resemblance is uncanny.)

xxxxxx

Interviewer: Has it feel to work with distinguished talents like Tyrian.

Mercury:There isn’t a moment that man lets me rest. I could have one scene and that guy is offset staring at me and shimming or wearing a prop just throw me off-he’s doing it now! *smiles*

Tyrian:*in Salem’s costume* I don’t know what you mean Mercury? Are you...*props leg up* distracted?

Mercury:Serious doesn’t exist with that man on set.

xxxxx

Interview:Adam, how’s it feel to be the most hated character.

Adam:It’s hilarious. I go the store to get a coffee and the cashier is doing a double take as they stare at me wearing a shirt with Pumpkin Pete on it. Before they process who I am exactly I’m just like, “please tell me you have pumpkin spice?” And their perception is ruined immediately.

Interviewer:Ever get hate at events.

Adam:Oh it’s a game now! Not by my choice. This was Yang’s idea.

Yang:*pokes in* Y’all talking about the game where I make people upset? *sits in his lap* excuse me.

Adam:Against my will...*snickers* anytime I go to a convention with Yang, she enters the room from the opposite door and let the people gather to her while haters gather to me.

Yang:By the time I reach him I see about a dozen people glaring at him while my fans are following me until I get where I need to go. Right before I do, I walk up to Adam as if I didn’t know he’d be there, then jump into his arms happily. Everyone shuts up. They don’t know how to cope.

Adam:That’s with almost any hero in this show. I’m minding my own business and then they cling to me for shock value. Yang and Blake are the worst though.

Yang:I’ve sat in his lap like I am now at a Q&A before because people booed when he showed up. The beef isn’t real people! My arm is fine!

xxxxx

Jaune:*staring at Pyrrha’s statue*.....

*foot steps approach*

Jaune:*looks left* !?

Pyrrha:*holding flowers* A tragedy, this person’s death. You knew them?

Jaune:I...y...no. Just heard of her.

Pyrrha:Really? Cool. Reall strong person. Her people were heartbroken when she chose Beacon. But it was the place she dreamed of. Ashamed she died. Gone, never to be seen.

Jaune:She may be gone, but I know she had no regrets. Pyrrha was a huntress through and through, and I believe she fought like one until the end.

Pyrrha:*nods* Yeah, I think so too. *containg joy*

.........

Pyrrha:This isn’t the real scene by the way.

Jaune:I was about to say! Like, what the hell is happening!? I read the script and missed this part!

Pyrrha:Hahahaha! Good improvising. *claps* way to roll with the nonsense. I can’t believe you said no though! That’s how you get haunted.

Jaune:*laughing* I thought I was! Ghost Pyrrha walking with flowers saying “oh you know her?” I thought I did until you showed up!

Ren:We just shoot random scenes of you talking to Pyrrha and never address it. Jaune is just crazy now.

Pyrrha:I’m down for that!

Director:No! Well....no! Stop trying to get more lines!

Pyrrha:Awww.

xxxxxx

Ozpin:You know originally I brought my kid here so we can bond and he was like “awesome!”

Cameraman pans over to Oscar and Penny sitting on a bench eating together, laughing.

Ozpin:*smirking* I was played, but I respect it.

xxxxxx

[Volume 6]

Jaune:*walks up to Ruby* Promise that you’ll meet us there.

Ruby:I promise. *smiles*

..... *both lean in*

Ruby:......*kisses him*

Everyone:!?!?

Nora:Woah! Cut!

Ruby:Huh? What’s up?

Nora:There’s no kiss!

Ruby:Really? Feels like a kiss should be here. Huh, my bad. Thought it was written in.

xxxxxx

Ruby:*posed up in chair* They had to cut out me kissing Jaune. That’s fine, still kissed him.

xxxxxx

Nora:All I’m saying is maybe I should get a kiss with him.

Director:Nora, just ask him out on your own time.

Nora:Pffft what? Me, into Jaune? No..... I just think it would make good narrative sense.

Director:How!?

Nora:......*walks away* It just would!

581 notes · View notes

vixenpen · 3 years

Text

Just Relax For Me, OK? (Scumbag! Hawks x (f) Reader)

(Hoevember Day 10 Free Day)

(Trigger warnings: coercion, power dynamics, manipulation)

(Art by: @kadeart)

He requested me specifically. Not ‘his people’ or his management; Hawks requested me out of all the candidates.

The very thought had you shook. You had only answered the ad seeking ‘new talent’ on a total whim not expecting to get it. Yes, You were cute in your opinion, but you didn’t think you were exceptional or exceptionally lucky enough to get the call back. Yet the email lingered at the back of your mind.

Y/n-San, I hope this email finds you well (although I guess the email doesn’t have a choice, now does it? 😂)

I was impressed with your headshots, and I think you would be perfect for the shoot. If interested respond as soon as possible.

Best,

Hawks

The man had sent you a personal email. He had invited you to be his leading lady himself. You nearly fainted when you got the email. Needless to say after an hour of research to ensure it wasn’t a joke or a scam you promptly emailed back to accept.

That was what led you here: Room 1 on the tenth floor. You were about to have a Photoshoot with the number two hero.

It felt surreal when you finally knocked on the door, but you sobered you quickly when a deep, playful voice sang back: “Come innn.”

A pair of lazy golden eyes sparkled at you as you entered. His deep red wings flexed as he gave a slow, smile.

“Hey there, kid.” He stood.

Your eyes widened. You had never seen him in civilian clothes. He had a little bit more muscle on him than you realized. He was by no means a big man, but he was fit and toned. Lithe muscles flexed beneath his Brooks Brother’s button down shirt, and his large hands were stuffed into his khaki trousers.

You were so taken aback by his casual appearance that you didn’t even notice the way his amber gaze caressed your curves, slowly and appreciatively.

“Enjoying the scenery?” He asked, laughter lacing his tone. “I know I sure am.”

The comment snapped you out of your trance.

“Oh! Gosh I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen you outside of your hero costume much, it’s...different. I mean you look amazing! You always do but—“

Shut up, y/n, just shut the fuck up.

So you snapped your mouth shut while the blonde man threw his head back and laughed. He gave you the sexiest smise (smile eyes) you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. Then He stepped closer, closing the space between you two.

“Well, I’m glad my leading lady approves.” He hummed.

Get your thoughts together, girl.

“Of course. But I was wondering, where is everyone else?”

“Well considering I set up this little meeting two days ahead of time I’m going to assume they’re all at their respective houses.”

“Two days?! Wait so the shoot—“

“Is two days from now. Ain’t I little shit?” He laughed. It was a bright, full sound that made the corner of his eyes crinkle, and despite your own confusion, you couldn’t help, but chuckle too.

“I would say; a lovable scamp,” you joked. “But, why would you ask me to come if it was just going to be the two of us.?“

The blonde fought against a smirk. It was cute how naive you were. It was a good thing Hawks had scooped your fine ass up out of the pile of headshots. Clearly, you were going to need his guidance.

“To help ease your mind a little, y/n. You’re new to all this, right?” He gestured around the studio.

“Uhh, yeah, I am.”

“I can’t imagine shooting an ad with a pro hero as your first job is easy on your nerves.” He gave you a little pouty little smile. Jesus this man was pretty.

You giggled nervously. “The number two pro in Japan at that, sir.”

“Eh,” he gave a dismissive little wave. “Whose counting?” Then he reached out to give your arms a gentle squeeze, his eyes pierced yours, fixing you in place, and you gasped a bit. It wasn’t a predatory look, but it was intense and demanding of your full attention.

“The important thing, kid, is that you’re comfortable with me. Understand?”

Flabbergasted, you nodded. It seemed to appease the avian hero because his serious expression melted into a friendly smile.

“Good, besides, I don’t bite...unless you ask me to, that is.” He added in a low voice.

Despite the friendliness in his face, something about the comment made your sex heat up for just a moment. But you didn’t have time to dawdle on that, before Hawks led you to one of the red couches in the room.

“Come on, let’s chat. I just wanna see where your head is at, Little Birdie, make sure you can really handle yourself in front of a camera.”

Your heart hammered at the nick name. “That’s sweet of you, I appreciate it.”

Hawks smiled. “So did you always wanna be a model?”

“No. I wanted to be a university student, but school is expensive and...well...money is hard to keep with the way things cost now a days.” You explained with a shrug. “But Jesus, I’m so excited! I can’t believe I’m getting to meet my idol,” you gushed, “I’ve seriously been a fan of you forever, and—oh, I’m gushing, aren’t I?” You frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

The blonde just chuckled, propping an arm up on the couch around you.

“It’s alright, y/n, I picked you out of all the other girls that entered.” He cocked a brow in a cheeky little smirk. “You could say I’m a fan of you too.” He placed his free hand on your knee and gave it a squeeze. “You’re gonna be amazing at this.” His fingers trailed up your thigh a bit before stopping.

Your wings gave an involuntary twitch at his praise.

“And those,” he nodded towards the appendages, “are going to photograph beautifully.”

“I don’t know about all that,” you shrugged, laughing a little, “but I’m gonna try my best.”

“Uh Uh,” he gave your knee a little shove, “you’re going to be the best. Here, stand up,”

Puzzled, you looked at his outstretched hand before grabbing it. He pulled you to your feet. You heart revved as he pulled you flush against his chest, and kept an arm wrapped around your waist.

“I’m gonna show you what I see when I look at you, y/n, and what the camera is gonna see as well. Are you wearing anything underneath this?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” Your cheeks burned. “Why?!”

He gave you an amused look as if you’d asked something ridiculous.

“Because, this is going to be a lingerie shoot, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you’re naked under this.”

“Oh...I—yes I am.”

Of course you knew this shoot called for lingerie. The shoot had specified ‘intimate.’ Why were you so shocked?

Quit being such a head case in front of him!

“Take off your clothes, Little Birdie.” He directed.

You paused.

Hawks must have sensed your hesitation because he let out another breezy laugh and added: “if it makes you feel any better, I’ll do the same, look.”

Once again that arresting look of his held you hostage. He kept his hooded eyes on you as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly slipping it off. He was definitely more muscular than you had originally realized.

Your eyes slid down to where his hands had begun unfastening his belt. It clanked as it collapsed to the ground. He didn’t take off his pants fully, but they now sat low on his trim hips exposing a dark blonde happy trail, and a v-cut that disappeared into a pair of red boxer briefs.

The avian licked his lips. There was a cocky gleam in his eye as he watched you drink in his body shamelessly.

“Your turn, Little Birdie.” He coaxed.

Well, if Hawks could do it, you could too, right?

So you eased out of your tank top and slipped off your jeans, exposing your barely covered flesh in the strappy black and red silk lingerie.

Hawks let out a satisfied; “Mmm,” as his eyes swept over you. “Perfect. Come on, let me show you something.”

He led you to the white backdrop surrounded by studio lights and camera; guiding you to stand on a black X directly in front of a camera.

He sidled you behind you, keeping his strong arms around your waist, then he gently folded your body forward.

Oh...this is...what is this?

As you struggled to formulate coherent thoughts, you felt the man’s soft lips against your ear. There was amusement in his voice as he mumbled: “I feel that heart of yours going a mile a minute, baby bird,” he chuckled. “Relax mama. I got you, ok?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his low, soothing voice rolled down your spine. You slowed your breathing.

“I know it’s nerve wracking, baby bird,” he hummed in your ear. “Imma take care of you, though, ok?”

His hands were warm and rough and sliding along your supple skin. He pulled your hips towards his, grinding you into his crotch. Your wings twitched involuntarily. Hawks sighed

“Shit,” you whispered, as your ass pressed into his groin.

He felt so good. So strong and self assured.

“That’s it, Angel.” He practically purred. “Just relax, babe. I wanted you for this,” his fingers trailed up your stomach. From the corner of your eye, you see his red wings wrap around you.

His lips were pressing into your neck now.

“You’re so beautiful. If you‘re not feeling your sexy self by the time we shoot tomorrow I’m gonna make you feel it.”

His fingers were caressing the undersides of your breasts now, teasing at their softness.

“Hawks,” you gulped, “are you sure...it’s ok to be doing this? I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Aww,” he tilted your face towards his own with a soft touch. “Of course it’s ok, beautiful. We’re just practicing, yeah?”

“But...it doesn’t feel like...like...”

“Like what, baby bird?” His wings fanned the air lazily as they cacooned you both. “Like practice? Oh but it is.”

He clutched your hand and slid it up between your breasts, his much larger one engulfed it. “Feel how your heart beat has slowed? Hm? The way your breath has evened out. You’re so much more relaxed now, aren’t you?”

“Yesss,” you sighed, but honestly it was because you were so turned on.

His clothed knee pried it’s way between your legs slightly, giving your burning sex something to grind on.

“See? I knew you could do it.” He smiled. “If you’re going to be a model, you have to know how to be cool under any circumstance, you know? For example. If the director wants us to get a little more Intimate, like this,” his long fingers dipped below your skimpy panties and brushed just above your clit. “You’ll have to keep calm and let me, won’t you?”

“I—I guess so, but,” you bit your lip and moaned as Hawks suddenly pressed his knee harder against your cunt.

“And when they tell you to touch me, like this,” his other hand reached around to wrap your fingers around the erection poking through his pants. You could feel a damp spot from the Pre that had leaked through.

“Would...would they really expect all this?” You asked. This felt so...wrong? But fuck did it feel good.

“Of course, Baby, it’s all apart of the job. That’s why what we’re doing is so important.”

Without warning, his fingers dipped between the soaked lips of your sex, breaking the quiet intimacy as you moaned with sudden pleasure.

“Fuck,” Hawks groaned. His fingers swam in your tight, wet cunt, flexing for that perfect spot. “Feels good doesn’t it, baby bird?“

Your pussy smacked from the three long digits plunging into it and every time Hawks worked his fingers your round ass grinded against his flexing dick.

“This, Hawksss-ah fuck!—this-we shouldn’t be doing this...”

“Oh, Angel,” he cooed, “it’s alright. You want this job, don’t you?”

“Yesss,” you groaned. “Yes I do.”

“It’s an amazing opportunity isn’t it?”

“It is.” You squeezed his manhood as his thumb began to press your clit. The pleasure spiking through out your body made your wings twitch against his hard, bare chest.

He moaned. “Working with me could lead to many more opportunities, Little Birdie, so long as you learn how to go with the flow. Understand?”

Swallowing hard you nodded.

“Good girl. I’m gonna take care of you, baby bird. Tomorrow and every shoot afterward.”

There was something smug in his heady voice, he spun you to face him, and two vermillion feathers detached from his wings. Your eyes followed them as they hooked into the hem of your panties and slid them down.

“Wait—Hawks. Do you expect me to—“

“I expect you to be professional, Baby bird.” He cut in, hands squeezing and massaging your thick ass. Without warning he scooped your body up and had your thighs around his waist. “You’re going to be a good little leading lady, aren’t you?” He smirked.

You fingers dug into the skin surrounding his wing joints as you held on. Your eyes were wide with surprise and hazy with desire. Fuck! you wanted this man, but this was a lot—even for you.

“I do want to do a good job.” You agreed.

“Oh you will, baby.” He lowered you against his straining dick.

“Fuck...” your head snapped back.

One hand remained on your ass cheek while another slid up below your wings, the pad of his thumb circled the skin there making you coo in satisfaction.

“God damn, Birdie. I promise, this is going to open doors for you.”

He was lowering you again, this time you felt the tip of him press between your folds.

“Wouldn’t you like that? To work for me? To be my go-to girl. My little muse?”

His wings stretched wide, catching the bright studio lights in your periphery. Your gaze, however, remained on those smoldering golden irises with their slitted black pupils.

“I would like that, Hawks.” You whispered back, your fingers stroked his feathery blonde hair.

“Ohhh,” he groaned out as he slipped your juicy pussy down on his length. “I bet you would like that, Birdie.” His wings flapped as you cried out in ecstasy.

The lights became blurred as your eyes screwed shut, and then you were in the air. Hawks held your ass firm in both hands. Every flap of his wings made you bounce along his thick member and sent delicious ecstasy shooting through your body.

Behind you, your own wings were flapping as well, as if trying to match his pace. He was gazing at you with a mix of lust and admiration.

“God, you’re fucking sexy. You’re gonna be my little muse—my little love bird, aren’t you? I’ll mold you into the perfect model. Fuckkk!”

He sighed at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. He knew you would feel amazing. The minute he saw those headshots, he knew he had to have you in more ways than one. His sharp canines found your neck and bit into the flesh.

“H-Hawks!”

“Don’t worry, baby, we’ll cover it tomorrow. I’m going to take care of everything for my little muse. Fuck! Ahh god, you feel fuuucking good.”

His balls smacked against you. The friction of his pelvis brushed against your swollen clit making your cunt convulse in pleasure. Ecstasy kept crashing over you in shock waves.

“Ohh fuck, Hawks, god-ahhh-shii!”

Your pussy creamed around the hard dick pummeling into it.

“Yeah, my little model. Pretty, little birdie.” He praised.

His wings seemed to work faster and harder making you bounce even harder. Hawks caught one of your hard nipples in between his teeth, tongue slipping around the bumpy areolas and flicking the bud.

“Oh my godddd, oh my fuck—“

Your pussy flexed around his dick as your orgasm washed over you.

“Shhh fuccckkk yes, y/n!” The blonde cried out, feeling your nails dig into the skin of his back.

You were no longer forming words as Hawks continued to bounce you on his twitching cock, sinking a finger into your asshole and adding more pressure. Another orgasm exploded over you. He kept bouncing you, his blonde bangs plastered to his sweat slicked forehead.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he mumbled against your neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You heard a couple studio lights topple over as his wings worked even harder towards his release, and when he came he came hard and hot and heavy.

His whole body tensed with the action and his head flung back. Christ. He was beautiful.

Slowly, he lowered the pair of you back on to the ground, still holding on to you.

Your mind was still swimming as Hawks pressed kisses up your throat until he reached your lips. Then he smirked.

“My little muse,” he mumbled between kisses, “I’m gonna mold you into the perfect little model. Promise.”

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