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hoejosatoru · 3 months

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Room for One More

Pairing: Fem!reader x Shinichiro

Summary: Seeing how you cares for his little siblings makes Shinichiro want to have a child of his own with you <3

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: changed the sano siblings ages a bit from cannon to fit the narrative, talk of pregnancy, breeding kink, raw sex, fingering, cream pie, some pet names, not proof read

You woke up to a familiar sound: little feet on hardwood and stifled giggles. You felt the bed shift under the weight 2 tiny bodies as they wedged their way between you and your boyfriend.

“Wake upppppp” Mikey whined. You rolled over, finding him poked at Shinichiro’s cheek.

He grumbled, turning into the pillow. “C’mon Mikey, it’s early.”

Mikey snorted. “It’s nine!”

Shin’s voice came muffled from the pillow. “That is early.”

“Lazy!” Emma giggled at Mikey’s comment.

“How about instead of bothering Shin, you give me a good morning hug?” you asked, earning delighted squeals from the two of them. They practically leaped at you, but you received them happily, hugging them tightly. “You too, Izana, you know I can’t get up without a hug.”

Izana was standing in the doorway, watching this all unfold. Being the oldest, besides Shin, you knew he felt like he wasn’t supposed to get in on the “baby stuff.” However, you also knew he really liked it, as he was still very much a child after all. You were always sure to invite him in, so he felt like he was doing it for you, rather than himself. He gave you a big, sweet hug.

“I’m hungry,” Mikey groaned.

“You’re always hungry,” Izana replied.

“I’ve got an idea,” you interjected. “Whoever brushes their teeth the fastest gets an extra piece of bacon.” Their eyes all lit up and in a flash they were gone.

You leaned over, pressing a kiss on Shin’s cheek. “I’ll make them breakfast, you rest, okay?” Shin had been working a lot lately; the responsibility of the bike shop was a lot for him. This was his first day off in a while and you knew he needed it.

“Thank you,” he murmured, turning to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

You made it to the kitchen just in time to see the kids race in, Izana sliding into his chair first. “We have a winner!” you announced, ruffling his snowy hair. He smiled proudly. The other two pouted.

“He cheated,” Mikey grumbled.

You were fishing out pans from the cabinet as you replied, “Sore losers don’t get any bacon.” That got him quiet. You got everything you needed- eggs, bread, butter, and bacon - and got to work cooking breakfast. It wasn't long before Shinichiro stumbled in.

“I thought you were gonna rest some more?”

Shin cozied up behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you. “Smells too good to stay away.” You leaned into the warmth of his touch, smiling as he peppered soft kisses on your neck and cheek.

“Eww!” the kids groaned in unison. You giggled as Shin told them to shut up, while half laughing himself. When you finished cooking you gathered around the little kitchen table to eat. Everyone fell silently as they enjoyed their food. Meal times were typically the quietest parts of the day.

Just as you were all finishing up Shin’s phone rang. He looked at the number and groaned. “Shit.”

“Oohh, Shin cursed!” Mikey gasped, making Emma giggled. Shin stuck his tongue out at them. Although he was much older, it didn’t stop the typical sibling dynamics from playing out.

“It’s the bike shop, I gotta take it,” he explained, before slipping out of the room.

“Let's get this cleaned up, yeah?” you said to the kids. They got up without complaint, helping you bring the dishes to the dishwasher and load it up. The kids definitely messed around a lot, but they were great little helpers. By the time you finished, Shinichiro returned with a disappointed look on his face.

“I have to go into work,” he sighed, heavy with sadness.

“No! We were supposed to have a picnic today,” Emma pouted. She expressed the disappointment you felt. You weren’t angry, if anything you were upset for Shin. You knew he was looking forward to getting some time off and was probably just as upset as you were.

“I’m really sorry,” Shin replied, “It’s an emergency.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Yeah no one’s hurt or anything,” Shin replied, “We just have this big job that needed to be finished today. The guy who was supposed to do it got really sick and if we don’t complete this we’ll lose a ton of money. I’m so sorry I gotta go get it done.” Shinichiro looked so disappointed, it made your heart ache. It always sucked when he got called into work unexpectedly, but today he looked particularly upset. You knew he hated how much he had to work, despite loving motorcycles. It was difficult for him to be so young and have to provide for himself as well as all his little siblings. His dedication and care of them was something that drew you to him in the first place. “I’m sorry my love,” you replied, “That really sucks, but not your fault. We understand, don’t we?”

The kids were definitely disappointed, but they nodded along anyway thankfully. “It’s okay Shin,” Izana stated, “We can hang out a different day.”

Shinichiro shook his head. “No we already bought everything for the picnic, you all should still go and have a good time.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Absolutely. I’d feel worse if you guys didn’t have fun today,” Shin replied. “You’ll all behave for y/n if she takes you to the park right?” This time they nodded eagerly. “Good,” Shin replied. He put his hand on Izana’s head, fluffing his hair a bit. “You’re the man of the house while I’m away, bud. Make sure these two behave.”

“Hey!” Mikey and Emma grumbled while Izana beamed with the honor Shin had bestowed on him. Shin told the kids to get dressed, giving you a minute alone.

“I really am sorry about this, I was looking forward to spending time together,” Shin said, taking your hand in his.

“It’s really okay, you can’t control it,” You replied, giving his hand a squeeze, “You just owe us extra next time you’re off.” Your light teasing made him smile.

“You got it.” He stole a kiss before the kids could come back down and gag over your PDA. “If you need me at all, please call. I’ll say fuck work if you really need me for something.”

“Don’t worry about it, just do what you need to do and come home to us as soon as you can, okay?” you replied, stealing another kiss while you could.

“Yes ma’am.” With that the kids came racing back into the room. Shin said his goodbye before heading out. You got the kids organized, having them pack up their snacks and toys they wanted to bring with them. When everything was ready, you piled everything into a little wagon, which Izana was happy to put in charge of pulling.

You held Emma’s hand as you walked to park. Mikey ran head, eager as always, while Izana followed dutifully behind so he could keep an eye on everyone. When you finally arrived, you let them run loose as you laid out the blanket. Despite it being a nice day, the park was fairly empty, giving the kids freedom to do as the pleased. As you watched them run around and laugh with each other, that familiar warm feeling grew in your chest.

Shin’s sibling were not your kids, obviously. You were just his girlfriend, after all. Still you felt such strong affection for them. You didn’t have a big family growing up and you loved being a part of their family like this. It meant a lot to you that his siblings seemed to love you as much as you loved them.

After running around for awhile, the kids worked up an appetite and joined you on the picnic blanket. You dug through the picnic basket, pulling out everyone’s favorite snacks. You felt a little tug in your chest, knowing Shin had gone shopping to get everyone just what they liked. When you saw his favorite candy at the bottom of the basket you kept it hidden, wanting him to have a little treat to come home too.

After lunch, Izana and Mikey went back to running around and playing some tag-like game. Emma roped you into playing dolls with her, not that you minded. When she got bored of that, she went off to collect little flowers that were sprouted in the park. She brought you back a little bouquet, smiling brightly and filling your chest with warmth. There were a few extra she had for herself.

“Sit,” you patted the blanket next to you. Emma did as you asked, sitting in front of you. You used your fingers to comb through her silky blonde hair, then braided it, weaving in the little flowers she found. When you showed her, she squealed with delight.

“It’s like Rapunzel!” she beamed.

“Can Rapunzel go tell her brothers its time to go home?” Emma nodded, skipping off to round up Mikey and Izana while you packed everything up. The sun was starting to set as you walked back home. You were surprised how much time you spent out, but you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. It only would have been better if Shin could have joined you.

When you got home, you instructed the kids to wash up while you started making something for dinner. You kept it a simple crowd pleaser: pasta.

“How you guys feel about watching a movie after dinner?” You asked as everyone ate at the table.

“Can we make a fort?” Mikey asked.

“Of course,” you replied. The three of them ate the rest of the meals excitedly chatting about how they would arrange the pillows and blankets. Once dinner was finished, they helped you clean up without complaint, eager to get to the fort building. It took a bit of time to get it big enough for everyone to fit while also being structurally sound, but eventually you got it right.

“You guys don't want snacks right?” you joked, knowing they’d be appalled you’d even suggest they go snack less.

“Nuh uh! I want popcorn,” Mikey replied.

“And m&ms!” Emma chimed in. You laughed, but fetched what they asked for, before climbing into the fort. It was a tight fit, but they all had no qualms cuddling up to you. Emma was squished against your chest, while Mikey rested by your stomach. Izana snuggled up against your leg.

The kids chatted and giggled at the beginning of the movie, but slowly fell silently as they drifted to sleep. Usually Izana is able to stay up through a movie, but even he was knocked out from a long day at the park. You were wondering how you would get them to their beds without waking them up, when you heard the front door open.

“I’m home!” Shin announced. When he walked into the living room he laughed at the sight of the blankets and pillows arranged haphazardly. “Shit I didn’t know they were asleep,” he said when he came around tot he front of the fort. Shinichiro’s heart seized at the sight of his little siblings cuddled up to you so peacefully. He already knew he loved you, but it moments like this it was almost overwhelming for him.

“It’s okay, they’re totally knocked out from today,” you whispered. “We missed you, but I saved you a plate. Why don’t you go eat and then we’ll move them?”

Shin nodded, even though he had the strongest urge to join you guys. His growling stomach was the only thing that pulled him away. He ate quickly, but appreciated the meal you had left for him.

“Thank you for dinner, my love,” Shin said when he returned, “Now lets get them to bed.” Shin gently lifted Izana off you, who stayed asleep while he carried him to his room. Next he took Mikey, leaving you to carry Emma up to her room. All the kids remained asleep on the short walk to their room.

“Your turn,” Shin greeted outside Emma’s door. Before you could ask what he meant, he swept you off your feet and carried you to your bedroom. You both laughed quietly, as he placed you on the bed.

“We missed you a lot today,” you told him.

“I missed you guys too,” Shin replied “You’re so good with the kids, you have no idea how much it means to me.” Shin spent his entire day thinking of you all. It was not the first time you stepped up and helped with the kids, but it never meant any less to him. He loved how you cared for them, treating them basically like your own. Coming home to all of them so cuddled up to you just confirmed what he always felt. “Would it be crazy if I said I want a kid of our own?”

Your eyes went wide. The two of you had talked about having a family, but it had always been casual. Something that was more of a day dream than a true plan. “We aren’t even married,” was all that came out in your shock. You and Shin weren’t traditional by any means, but you always assumed you’d be married before having children.

Shin got a funny smile on his face. “Funny you should say that.” He went over to his drawer, digging through it until he pulled out a little black velvet box. You gasped. “So, I had been planning on proposing today when we were all together. I was really upset when I didn’t think it would happen, but I guess it was meant to be,” he explained, with the sweet grin on his face that had made you fall in love with him. “So, y/n, will you marry me?”

There was only one answer. “Yes, of course.” You threw your arms around him, happy tears streaming down your face. You only pulled away so he could slide the beautiful ring on your finger. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” Shin replied, pulling you in for a kiss. He laid you down, kissing you as he straddled your body. You were both giggling, equally giddy and desperate for each other, as if it was the first time being together. Your stripped each other as you kissed, barely letting your lips part. “Fuck,” Shin said looking at you, “So fucking pretty. My girl. my fiancé.”

You blushed and smiled, loving the sound of that. You twirled the hair at the base of his head, just like you knew he liked. It only egged him on more. “Gonna be even better when I can call you my wife.” His hand slipped between your legs, spreading the slickness that gathered. You let out a little satisfied sigh as he teased your clit. “Fuck you’d look so good pregnant. You want that, yeah? Wanna have a baby with me love?”

Maybe it was the excitement of the engagement or the ache of desire you felt for Shin, but in that moment there was nothing you wanted more. “Please Shin,” you begged, “I want that so bad.” Shin smiled widely, slipping his fingers inside you. You let out a little gasp as he pressed into your g-spot, making you impossibly wetter.

“Fuck, gonna give that to you,” he murmured against your skin. He kissed your breasts, his tongue sliding across your nipple. Goosebumps raised on your skin as he continued to work at you. His thumb found your clit, pressing little circles until the bubble of pleasure inside you popped.

You bit your lip, letting out a low, breathless moan as you came. You were still acutely aware that the kids were near by, asleep in their beds. The last thing you wanted to do was wake them up.

When you were finished, Shinichiro sat up, pumping his hard, leaky cock. The sight of him coupled with the anticipation of getting to feel him raw for the first time made your body drum with excitement. Shin was just as eager, lining himself up to you and pressing himself inside you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Knew you’d feel good, but this is like fucking heaven.” He gave slow, deep thrusts, allowing him to savor ever inch of you. “We’re never using condoms again.” You giggled at his enthusiasm, but also fully agreed that this felt better than before.

Shinichiro grew more needy. His thrusts became faster and harder as he lost himself in the feeling of you. “Can’t wait to fill you up,” he panted softly, “Gonna be the prettiest mommy. Fuck I love you.”

“I love you too, Shin,” you whimpered. Your hands dragged up and down his back, holding him close to you. The faster he moved, the more the pleasure inside you rebuilt. You were getting to the tipping point when Shin let out a low curse and buried his face in your neck. You felt his cock twitch inside you, filling you with his warm cum. The sensation sent you over the edge, making you cum around his cock. You bit into his shoulder to stifle the sound.

The both of you stayed like that for awhile, Shin buried deep inside you, bodies pressed together, breathless and flushed. Eventually, Shin propped himself up on his elbows. He wasn’t far from you by any means, but it allowed him to look at you. His cheeks were flushed with a loving glow that only made your heart flutter more.

“I really mean it, you know,” Shin said, pushing hair out of your eyes. “There’s nothing more that I want than to have a family with you.”

His sweetness and sincerity nearly brought tears to your eyes. “I want that, too. I’m so glad I get to be a part of your family now.” It was all you had wanted since you first started dating him

He picked up the hand that the ring was on, placing a soft kiss on it. “You’ve always been part of the family, now it’s just official.”

You cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss. “I love you so much.”

Shin only smiled brighter, “I love you more.” The joy you felt was beyond anything you could explain. All you knew was there was nothing more you were excited for than to be build a life and family with Shinichiro.

#domestic shin is everything to me #shinichiro sano smut #shinichiro smut #shinichiro headcanons #shinichiro fluff #tokyo revengers hcs #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers smut

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estapa-edwards · 18 days

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MEDIA GIRL - L. HUGHES

paring: Luke Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 2.4k

requested? yes - luke falling in love with the media girl at the new jersey devil and finally asking her out

warnings: use of y/n. multiple pov

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I've been working closely with the Devils for the past couple of years, crafting content, capturing moments, and sharing the team's journey with fans around the world. It's a job I love, immersed in the world of hockey and surrounded by passionate individuals who share the same love for the sport.

One player, in particular, had caught my eye since he joined the team – Luke Hughes. As a rising star defenseman, he commanded attention on the ice with his skillful play and undeniable charisma. But it wasn't just his performance on the rink that intrigued me; there was something about his infectious smile and genuine personality that drew me in.

As the seasons passed and the rhythm of the hockey calendar dictated our lives, Luke and I found ourselves drawn together by the magnetic pull of our shared experiences. It was during those moments in between the action, the quiet lulls amidst the chaos, that our connection began to deepen.

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During interviews, our conversations would often veer off course, wandering into topics far beyond the scope of the game. Luke's genuine curiosity about my life outside of the arena was both surprising and endearing. We swapped stories about our childhoods, our favorite movies, and our shared love for good food. It was during these impromptu exchanges that I discovered the layers beneath the confident exterior of the hockey star – the insecurities, the dreams, the quirks that made him undeniably human.

Promotional shoots became an opportunity for us to explore our creative sides together. Whether we were brainstorming ideas for social media campaigns or striking poses for team merchandise, there was an undeniable synergy between us. Luke's playful nature brought out the best in me, inspiring me to push the boundaries of my creativity and embrace the spontaneity of the moment.

And then there were the social media campaigns – our bread and butter in the digital age of sports marketing. As the social media coordinator for the Devils, I was responsible for crafting content that resonated with fans and showcased the team's personality both on and off the ice. Luke, with his infectious energy and natural charisma, was the perfect partner in crime. Whether we were filming behind-the-scenes videos, hosting live Q&A sessions, or engaging with fans on Twitter, our dynamic duo captured the hearts of Devils fans everywhere.

But amidst the whirlwind of interviews, shoots, and campaigns, it was the quiet moments in between that I cherished the most. The stolen glances across a crowded room, the shared smiles that spoke volumes without a single word exchanged. It was during those moments that I felt the walls around my heart slowly crumbling, giving way to the possibility of something more than just friendship.

And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I couldn't shake the feeling that Luke Hughes had become more than just a teammate or a colleague – he had become a permanent fixture in my life, a constant presence that I couldn't imagine living without.

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As the final buzzer sounded, signaling the Devils' hard-fought victory on the ice, the arena erupted into a cacophony of cheers and applause. Luke and Y/N found themselves caught up in the swell of excitement and emotion, the electric atmosphere pulsating around them like a living, breathing entity.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched with bated breath, her eyes fixed on Luke as he skated across the rink, his movements fluid and graceful, his arms raised triumphantly in the air. In that moment, he was more than just a hockey player – he was a hero, a symbol of strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

"That was incredible," Y/N exclaimed, her voice tinged with awe as she watched him bask in the glow of their win. The pride swelling in her chest was palpable, a surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm her as she realized the magnitude of what they had accomplished together.

Luke flashed her a grin, his eyes shining with adrenaline-fueled excitement. "Thanks, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without your support."

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat at his words, her heart skipping a beat as she absorbed the weight of his gratitude. It was a simple acknowledgment, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, but to her, it meant everything. It was validation – validation of her hard work, her dedication, her unwavering belief in him and the team.

"You're welcome," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll always be here to cheer you on, no matter what." Her words were a promise, a pledge of allegiance to the man who had captured her heart without even realizing it.

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It was during one particularly intense game that everything changed. The Devils were down a goal with minutes left on the clock, tension thick in the air as the crowd held its breath. In a dramatic turn of events, Luke managed to score the tying goal, sending the arena into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Amidst the celebration, our eyes met across the crowded arena, a shared moment of triumph and exhilaration. And in that instant, I knew – I was falling for Luke Hughes.

But as the game ended and the crowd began to disperse, doubt crept into my mind. What if I was misreading the signs? What if our connection was nothing more than professional courtesy? I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand as I followed the team to the locker room for post-game interviews.

It was there, amidst the chaos of the locker room, that Luke sought me out. His eyes were bright with excitement, a victorious grin playing on his lips as he approached me.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "I just wanted to say thanks for all your hard work. That goal wouldn't have been possible without you."

I felt my cheeks flush with heat, a rush of emotions swirling inside me as I met his gaze. "It was all you out there," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "You played an amazing game."

Luke smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Hey, do you maybe want to grab dinner sometime? You know, to celebrate the win?"

My heart skipped a beat, the world around us fading away as I processed his words. Luke Hughes, asking me out on a date? It felt like a dream come true.

"Um, yeah," I stammered, a smile spreading across my face. "I would love to."

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LUKES POV

Luke Hughes sat in the locker room, his mind swirling with thoughts of the game ahead. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heart pounding with anticipation. But amidst the excitement of the upcoming match, there was another thought that lingered at the back of his mind – Y/N.

From the moment he first laid eyes on her, Luke knew there was something special about Y/N. It wasn't just her beauty or her infectious smile that drew him in; it was the way she carried herself, with a confidence and grace that was impossible to ignore. And as he got to know her better, he discovered that beneath the surface, there was a kindness and warmth that made her truly captivating.

As the seasons passed and their paths continued to intertwine, Luke found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he couldn't explain. There was a magnetic pull between them, a natural chemistry that made every interaction feel effortless and meaningful. Whether they were working together on promotional shoots or sharing moments of quiet camaraderie in between interviews, Luke felt a connection with Y/N that went beyond words.

But it wasn't just her professional prowess that impressed him – it was her passion for the game, her dedication to her craft, and her unwavering support for the team that truly captured his heart. In Y/N, Luke found a kindred spirit, someone who shared his love for hockey and understood the sacrifices he made to pursue his dreams.

And as he sat in the locker room, preparing to take the ice with his teammates, Luke couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N was more than just a colleague or a friend – she was someone he could see himself building a future with. But he also knew that crossing that line was fraught with uncertainty and risk. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if their relationship changed the dynamic of their team?

Luke Hughes leaned against the wall of the locker room, his heart pounding in his chest as he stole a glance at Y/N across the room. She was engrossed in conversation with a colleague, her laughter ringing out like music in the air. For a moment, he hesitated, his mind swirling with doubts and uncertainties. But then he remembered the way she had looked at him during the game, the spark of excitement in her eyes as they celebrated their victory together. And in that moment, he knew – he had to take a chance.

Pushing himself away from the wall, Luke crossed the room with determined strides, his heart racing with nerves as he approached Y/N. As he drew closer, he could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice slightly shaky but filled with genuine warmth. "I just wanted to say thanks for all your hard work tonight. That goal wouldn't have been possible without you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with surprise and gratitude. "Oh, it was nothing," she replied, her voice soft but sincere. "You played an amazing game out there."

Luke smiled, his confidence growing with each passing moment. "Listen, I was thinking," he began, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. "Would you maybe want to grab dinner sometime? You know, to celebrate the win?"

As he waited for her response, Luke felt a surge of nervous energy coursing through his veins. What if she said no? What if he had misread the signs and made a fool of himself? But then Y/N's face broke into a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Um, yeah," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with color. "I would love to."

A wave of relief washed over Luke as he took in her words, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Great," he said, unable to contain his excitement. "How about tomorrow night? I know this great Italian place downtown."

Y/N nodded eagerly, her smile widening with each passing second. "Sounds perfect," she replied, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

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The soft glow of candlelight bathed the cozy Italian restaurant in a warm, inviting ambiance as Luke and I sat across from each other, our conversation flowing effortlessly like a river winding its way through the night. From the moment we arrived, there had been a palpable energy between us – a sense of anticipation that hung in the air like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

As we sipped on glasses of red wine and savored bites of delicious pasta, the outside world faded away, leaving only the two of us lost in our own little bubble of bliss. Luke's laughter filled the air, a melodic symphony that echoed in my ears like music to my soul.

"So, tell me more about yourself," he said, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. "What do you like to do when you're not busy running the Devils' social media empire?"

I couldn't help but smile at his playful tone, the warmth of his gaze sending shivers down my spine. "Well, I'm a bit of a bookworm," I confessed, feeling a rush of excitement as I shared a piece of myself with him. "I love getting lost in a good novel, especially anything with a bit of mystery or romance."

Luke nodded, his expression thoughtful as he leaned in closer. "I can relate to that," he admitted, his voice low and intimate. "There's something magical about getting lost in a story, isn't there? It's like you're transported to a whole other world."

As the night wore on and the hours slipped away, our conversation deepened, weaving through topics both trivial and profound. We talked about our hopes and dreams, our fears and insecurities, laying bare our souls like open books for the other to read.

And then, amidst the laughter and the shared moments of connection, there was a shift in the air – a subtle change that left me breathless with anticipation. As Luke reached across the table to refill my wine glass, his touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins, igniting a fire deep within my heart.

"Y/N," he began, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "There's something I need to tell you."

I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to continue. In that moment, the world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us suspended in time, lost in a moment of shared intimacy.

"I know we've only known each other for a relatively short time," Luke continued, his eyes locked with mine, "but from the moment I met you, I felt something special – something I've never felt before."

I felt a rush of warmth flood my cheeks as I listened to his words, my heart swelling with emotion. "Luke," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I feel it too."

And then, without hesitation, he reached across the table and took my hand in his, his touch sending a wave of tingles dancing across my skin. "Y/N," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I know this might sound crazy, but I think I'm falling for you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed into his, the depth of his feelings mirrored in the depths of his soul. In that moment, I knew – I was falling for him too, falling harder and faster than I ever thought possible.

And as we sat there, hand in hand, lost in the glow of the candlelight and the warmth of each other's presence, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. For in Luke Hughes, I had found not just a teammate or a colleague, but a kindred spirit – someone who saw me for who I truly was and loved me all the more for it.

And as our eyes met across the table, a silent vow passed between us – a promise to cherish this moment, this connection, for as long as our hearts beat as one.

#luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #new jersey devils #nj devils #hockey #nhl x reader #nhl

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 months

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Napoleonville [Chapter 8: The New House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, infidelity, kids, parenthood, historical topics like violence and discrimination, Cakes with Christabel, angst?? Who am I kidding. Angst!!!!!!

Word Count: 5.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @gemini-mama @daenysx @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbelll @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Only 2 chapters left!!! 🥰🧁

“I have no idea what he’s thinking,” Christabel tells Alicent, a low furtive murmur around nibbles of a cinnamon French toast cupcake. They are both sitting at the kitchen counter as you scuttle around wiping down burners and handles and knobs, trying not to listen in, unable to help yourself. At the table, Amir is frosting a Lady Baltimore cake and chatting with Criston, who has eaten no less than three miniature cherry pies in the past fifteen minutes. Amir keeps casting you wide-eyed, flummoxed glances. He means: Can you believe these people? No, you can’t.

Alicent sips the glass of sweet tea you poured for her and gazes vaguely around the room. “Oh, you know how Aemond is, dear. He works so hard. He’s so consumed by the Lake Verret project.”

“But shouldn’t he talk to me?” Christabel’s large blue eyes are luminous, persistent.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. Of course he talks to you.”

“Sure,” Christabel says, frowning. “He talks to me about the weather and the garden and the koi in the fish pond. He asks if I listen to Dire Straights or AC/DC. Nothing of consequence, nothing revealing. And he never touches me. Alright, fine, there’s a hand on my shoulder or my waist once in a while, for a moment. There are quick, courteous kisses. But that’s all. And he’s so…so…” She struggles to decide on a word. “Formal!”

“Have you tried the cannoli cupcake yet?” Alicent asks, sliding the plate towards Christabel. “It’s just divine. I absolutely adore it.”

“When we’re apart he says he misses me, but he hardly ever calls. He tells me that he loves me, but only if I say it first.”

“He’s marrying you!” Alicent declares as she restlessly twists her assortment of glittering rings, gold and diamonds and emeralds. “What more is there to say, dear?”

“Surely there must be something,” Christabel mumbles. She obediently samples the cannoli cupcake, carving away a tiny sliver with her fork. “Oh, that is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s my favorite one yet.”

They have twelve flavors to choose from, some familiar and some new: vanilla bean and triple chocolate of course, the classics, and then also cannoli, cinnamon French toast, carrot, red velvet, Boston cream pie, apple cobbler, peanut butter and grape jelly, Neapolitan, Louisiana crunch, and hummingbird. Christabel surveys the selection and then looks to where you are vigorously scrubbing an already clean stovetop. “Aemond mentioned something about banana bread cupcakes. Do you have one of those we could try?”

And again, you are amazed by how much he remembers: the very first cupcake from the very first night. “Um…I’m not sure, actually. Amir, didn’t we make a batch earlier this week? Are there any still on the table?”

Amir checks the cake plates, lifting glass covers, until he locates a single remaining banana bread cupcake for your customers. He ferries it to the kitchen counter with great ceremony. “Everyone raves about this flavor! And it’s so quintessentially southern. Perfect for a Louisiana wedding.” You give him a miserable, deadened stare and he offers a millisecond smirk of commiseration. What else can we do? Amir means. And you think: Nothing.

Christabel samples the cupcake, an infinitesimal morsel speared on the very tip of her fork. You recall how Aemond tasted like sugar and honey and cinnamon when he kissed you on the night you met, rough, dominating, irresistible, without the aching weight of disappointments or betrayals. If time was a cobweb you could rip and walk through, you’d be back in that May dusk in an instant, you’d live there forever and never leave.

“That’s it.” Christabel grins as she licks cream cheese frosting from her full, pink lips. “This one. I want a banana bread cake.”

“Mmm,” Alicent agrees, taking a bite. “It has so many dimensions! Sweet with just a touch of salt, light and fluffy but with a certain substantial, rustic quality, don’t you think? It’s the cinnamon, perhaps.”

You make a note on your yellow legal pad—a reminder you don’t need—so you can avoid Christabel’s benign, guileless gaze. “Is there a design you’d like for the frosting?”

“Wildflowers.”

Amir emits a startled gasp before he can swallow it back down. You look up at Christabel. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Just like the vanilla bean cake you made for the engagement party.” She draws blossoms in the air with her fingers, whimsical like a fairytale. “There was white icing and then all these gorgeous flowers in a dozen different colors. You could do that for a wedding cake, couldn’t you?”

“Of course.” And then you amend: “Well, Amir can. He’s our Picasso.”

“You’ll need something for the rehearsal dinner too, dear,” Alicent tells Christabel. Then she turns to you, tugging anxiously at one of her auburn ringlets. “You’re the expert, love. What would you recommend to impress upon our guests all the history and mystique of the Deep South?”

Your mind is blank, your thoughts gnarled up with visions of Christabel meeting Aemond at the end of an aisle. Amir sees this and he saves you.

“A Napoleon cake,” he announces with his best salesman enthusiasm, powerful enough to sweep everyone else along with him.

Alicent claps her hands, elated. “Oh, just like the town!”

“It has layers of puff pastry and rich custard cream, very French, very elegant and sophisticated, but also a nod to Napoleonville. And we can add a cherry jam to make it more romantic, if you like.”

“Doesn’t that just sound heavenly, darling?”

“Does Aemond like cherries?” Christabel asks Alicent. You know he does, but you don’t say anything.

“I think so. We’ll ask him tonight to be sure.” Alicent is opening her clutch purse to get the cash to pay you; she is eager to have this errand finished, you believe. “And can you put wildflowers on top of the Napoleon cake as well?”

“You can have the Declaration of Independence written on it if that is your heart’s desire,” Amir says, then steals a glimpse of you. You’re jotting the order down and then tracing over your own letters again and again.

“That’s the color scheme,” Christabel says a bit dreamily, forever woolgathering. “Wildflowers. And I think you suggested it at the engagement party,” she tells you, appreciative. In your recollection, it was less of a suggestion than a confession of what you once dared to hope for. “Everything has to have wildflowers. Even the dress.”

Alicent groans. “Oh, Christabel, not this again.”

“I don’t know why you’re being so resistant, those dresses were spectacular.”

“Whoever heard of a multicolored wedding dress?” Alicent asks you, Amir, Criston. “It’s absurd. The bride always wears pure white, everyone knows that. It’s tradition! It’s dignified!”

“Well now I get to solicit opinions too.” Christabel reaches into her own purse—a quilted shoulder bag, light blue with red roses and a label reading Souleiado stitched inside—and produces several polaroid photographs. She gives them to you; they are all of her posing in different wedding dresses, stylish white gowns freckled with wildflowers like splashes of paint. “All anyone can talk about is what I should wear, what the guests will expect, what they will chatter about when they gossip afterwards,” Christabel tells you. And in her vast, shimmering eyes you can detect no resentment or slyness, only quiet desperation. “But you’re a real person. So be honest with me, because there’s only one thing I really care about. Will my husband think I look ravishing in any of them?”

“These theatrics,” Alicent sighs to herself, lighting a Marlboro cigarette. Again, she is peering aimlessly around the kitchen. Amir fidgets with the dogwood flower in his hair as he watches you wearily. Criston compulsively eats another miniature cherry pie.

You study the polaroid photos. Each one feels like a split lip, a fractured rib, the shredding elephantine pressure of a contraction. You wait to speak until you’re sure your voice won’t break. “They’re all stunning. But this one…” You place one picture on top of the pile. “This dress was made for you. Just look at your face. Glowing like a lightning bug.”

“Thank you,” Christabel says, beaming, immensely grateful, and she takes the photos back. She seems pacified. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

“I was, yes. Briefly. Not very happily, I must admit. But it was worth it to get my daughter.”

She smiles. There’s no uneasiness; she doesn’t shy away from displays of human frailty. “I’d like a few daughters one day. We could all dress up together and style each other’s hair.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. If I tried that, I’d get my hands chewed off.”

Christabel laughs. She wears a casual blue t-shirt, blue gingham capri trousers, and white flat pumps. Her eyeshadow is a sparkling gold, her mascara flaking onto the apples of her cheeks. She is still marveling at you with those aquamarine eyes when Alicent pulls a list out of her clutch and grudgingly crosses off items with a black ballpoint pen.

“So we’ve got a wedding cake, a rehearsal dinner cake, a dress, a venue, flowers, photographers…I still need to call about hair and makeup…and we need to pick out candles…”

“Where are you getting married?” you ask Christabel.

“The most unique, picturesque, atmospheric place in the entire state of Louisiana, I’m sure of it.”

“We took a drive to visit that church you mentioned,” Alicent says to you. “And it was absolutely perfect. None of our guest will have ever seen anything like it. And it’s so historic! Over 150 years old! The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens.”

Amir squeals, a distressed mewing that he stifles with a feigned cough into his elbow. You stand shellshocked for a few seconds before managing a generic encouragement: “Really! Wow! Amazing! Great!”

Now Christabel is rather melancholy again. She scrutinizes her engagement ring, a large teardrop emerald with a gold band. Her voice is low, like she’s talking to herself. “I just wish…I don’t know. That we had more time together before the wedding, I suppose. Then I think I’d feel like I had more of a handle on things. It’s all been such a whirlwind, such a shock. A good shock, but still. We hardly know each other.”

Alicent prompts her: “You care for Aemond, don’t you, dear?”

“I’m in awe of him,” Christabel replies, a little dazed, a little defenseless. “He’s so clever and gallant. He’s the most inspiring man I’ve ever known. And the scar…it gives him quite a roguish look, doesn’t it? Like a Bond villain. It’s not a detriment in the least.”

“Yes, yes,” Alicent says impatiently, like she’s waiting for the conversation to be over. “Then there’s nothing more to worry about. You care for him, he cares for you, and you’ll have the honeymoon to get better acquainted. Criston, would you go outside and start the Lexus, please?” He dutifully departs.

Honeymoon. Your stomach lurches, the sea in a storm. You can see Aemond’s hands on Christabel’s face, in her hair, skating up her bare thighs. You can hear him moaning her name.

“We’re going to Greece,” Christabel informs you, thinking she’s being polite. “Athens, Mykonos, Santorini, and Corfu. Have you ever been?”

I’ve never been anywhere. But instead you say, forcing a smile: “Not yet.”

When Christabel, Alicent, and Criston have gone, you look to Amir. Your blood has turned to cement: cold, heavy, immobile, trapped. “You realize she’s getting my wedding, right? The one I always wanted. The wildflowers. The candles. The chapel.”

“And she’ll even be taking your favorite dick home at the end of the night.”

You cover your face with both hands and shake your head, trying to clear it, to drive out mirages of someone else’s oasis. This can’t be real. I can’t handle it, I can’t survive it.

Amir pushes his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose and says, gently now: “If we’re catering dessert, we’ll have to go to the wedding. The rehearsal dinner too.”

“Why would they want that? How can they not see how insanely awkward and wrong this is?”

He shrugs. “They probably think it’s normal. Wasn’t Camilla at Charles and Diana’s wedding?”

“If one more person tries to talk to me about Camilla Parker Bowles, I’m going to feed myself to the gator.”

“You’ll have to come to terms with it or you’ll have to end it. Those are the only options.”

“Yeah.” And it’s not just about me. It’s Cadi’s life too.

Amir sits down at the kitchen table, crosses one leg over the other, kicks his foot nervously. He rests an elbow on the tabletop and his chin on the knuckles of his left hand. “I hate to give you more bad news.”

You already know what he’s going to say. You’ve been dreading it for months. “You have enough money saved for San Franscisco.”

“I do.”

You exhale, your shoulders collapsing, tapping your fingertips against the counter. The air conditioner whirrs; the cicadas shriek in the trees outside. The house is hushed and still. Cadi is away at horse camp. Each day you receive a postcard in the mail that you assume the employees forced her to write at gunpoint. “When are you leaving?”

“The end of July. I’ll wait until after the wedding, once all the dust has settled. But I can’t wait any longer than that.”

“I want you to be happy,” you say. “I really do. But I’m going to miss you so much. You’ve been my best friend for a decade. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a partner in life.”

Amir smiles faintly. “Come over here.”

When you sit beside him, he takes your hands in his; and you remember how he visited you in the hospital after Cadi was born, carrying a bouquet of wildflowers he picked himself and a Tupperware container full of crawfish pistolettes. He had been just a casual friend before you found out you were pregnant, one of a group, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t keep him at an arm’s length. Amir was different, and not in a way that you fully understood or accepted yet. But he was the only friend who had no judgment for you when you told him you were pregnant, who cared about how you felt, who wanted to be a part of whatever would happen next. He was the only one who stayed.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” Amir tells you. “I’ve never even been on a date, not once. I’ve never been in love. I’ve never had sex that wasn’t a one night stand in a New Orleans club or the back seat of my Ford Escort because those were the only places we had to go. And I’m starting to believe that people like me can’t have more than that. So I have to go someplace where I can have more, where I will have more. I don’t want love to be something that only other people get to experience. I don’t want to be afraid of leaving my house after dark or wake up every day wondering if someone has broken a window out of my car again. I have to go. There’s no future for me here. If I stay in Napoleonville, this place will kill me, one way or the other.”

Okay, you think. I can let him go. After everything he’s done for me, this is how I can be the friend that he deserves in return. “You should leave, Amir,” you say, tears stinging in your eyes. “I hear you, I understand you. I just wish I could go with you.”

“No, don’t cry, don’t cry! This isn’t the end. I’ll fly back to visit, you know that. Grandma’s still here, you and Cadi are here. And you can visit me too. Maybe you’ll even settle down on the West Coast someday. Eight more years and you’re free.”

You try to imagine your life then: Cadi headed off to college—and she will go to college, you’ve already decided that—and your tether to Willis weakened, closer to 40 years old than 30, Aemond and Christabel nearing their anniversary. How many children will they have by then? Three? Four? And the Lake Verret project will be well-established and no longer in need of so much of Aemond’s attention, and the house they call The Last Desire will sit empty on the lakeshore, warm draughts breathing through it like blood in veins. “I wouldn’t know how to exist anywhere else.”

“You’d learn,” Amir says confidently. “Now, have you ever made a Napoleon cake before?”

“I don’t think so. Not that I can remember.” You consider this. “My mom might have a recipe lying around somewhere. I’ll call and ask her.”

“Yes, do that,” Amir agrees. “If she doesn’t, I’ll try to dig one up at the library. We’ll want to have a few practice runs before the rehearsal dinner. Gotta impress the Rockefellers and their soulless millionaire ilk. Unless you were planning to have a homicidal meltdown and make the custard out of antifreeze or something.”

You chuckle. “No. Probably not.”

“It would be difficult to blame you.” And he turns on the little pink Panasonic radio: Alone by Heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

In a spacious corner booth of the Olive Garden in Gonzales, Aemond is talking about Lake Verret as you pick at your Tour of Italy and Frank Sinatra pipes through the speakers. You could swear they have the same three songs playing on a loop: Fly Me To The Moon, My Way, Luck Be A Lady, back to outer space again.

“But by total coincidence, Daeron has been researching desalination techniques for his latest article. Apparently there are ways to try to mitigate the damage and reduce the brackishness of the water, so we’re going to be—”

Abruptly, you ask: “Where does Christabel think you are right now?”

Aemond’s forehead crinkles, his fork hovers above his plate of herb-grilled salmon. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and his Marlboro jacket, jeans, Adidas sneakers. “Why do you care?”

“She’s getting the wedding I always wanted, did you even notice? She’s getting married at the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens in Belle River. She’s getting wildflowers and flickering candles.” And she’s getting you too.

“Okay,” Aemond says slowly. “I’m not involved in any of that.”

“I think you are, actually, because you’re kind of the groom.”

“But I don’t do the wedding planning,” he insists. “I have no idea what Christabel has arranged. My job is to be there on the day in a suit and that’s just about the extent of the real estate it takes up in my brain.”

“She’s never mentioned any of that to you? Not once? You’d swear on your life?”

He sets down his fork with a clang and stares fixedly at you. Your waitress glances over from several tables away where she is refilling a couple’s sweet tea glasses. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry you had good ideas and other people liked them. It fucking sucks that you didn’t get the wedding you wanted when you were seventeen. But that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know you yet, and you didn’t know me. You can’t blame me for what Willis or anyone else did.”

“But it’s not fair,” you choke out, sounding weak and juvenile, and you hate it but you can’t stop. “I understand that you’re marrying her, I get that, but she can’t have everything.”

“Look…” Aemond laces his hands together on top of the table, and his voice softens. “Even if Christabel didn’t exist, even if you were from my world, even if you were a duchess or a socialite or the daughter of the president of the United States of America, I still couldn’t marry you.”

You scoff; it’s despicable. “Because of Cadi?”

“No,” Aemond says, like that’s preposterous, like he’d never consider her to be a liability. “Because I have to have heirs.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss with vitriol that stuns him. Now the waitress is gawking. “You’re going to manipulate Christabel into walking down that aisle and then immediately get her pregnant?”

“Why are you mad at me?! I’m listening to you, I’m respecting you! You don’t want to have any more children of your own, fine, completely reasonable, I would never ask you to have a baby and go through all of that again for the sake of the Targaryen dynasty, but somebody has to!”

“You really don’t understand why I would empathize with a teenage girl trying to raise a child when she’s lonely and exhausted and confused about why the man she married isn’t turning out to be who she expected?”

Aemond shakes his head like it’s not a valid comparison. “She wants this.”

“She doesn’t know what it is. She doesn’t understand what she’s signing up for.”

“Everyone from a family like mine goes through this,” Aemond says. “My grandparents did, my mum and dad did, Aegon did, even bloody Charles and Diana did, and now it’s my turn. There are growing pains, but people adjust and it all works out eventually. Christabel will learn to manage her expectations, and once the children are born she can find happiness wherever and with whoever she wants to.”

“But you’ll be with her,” you forced out, voice fracturing, and at first Aemond doesn’t grasp what you mean. “You’ll…you’ll sleep with her. You’ll touch her, you’ll kiss her, you’ll do everything with her.”

“Surely you, as someone who called up a stranger from a personal ad in the Bayou Journal, comprehends that sex can be a solely physical act under the right circumstances.”

“So what, you’ll fuck me and then go home to her? Or you’ll fuck her and come home to me? And I’m supposed to live like that?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s simple, like it’s easy.

You gaze morosely out of the restaurant window. In the distance is a Dollar General, a Burger King, the Kmart where you had to buy your own engagement ring.

“Do you want me to tell Christabel to change the wedding?”

“No.”

“Because if I tell her to pick a new venue, new flowers, new cakes, whatever, she’ll do it.”

“No. She likes her wedding. I can’t take that away from her. She thinks I’m her friend.”

“Cupcake,” Aemond says, tenderly now. You turn back to him. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m going to be gone for a while, four or five days. I have to fly to Norway and inspect some of the offshore rigs we have up there.”

“In the North Sea?” you ask, alarmed. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I mean, it’s oil drilling. It’s one of the most deadly professions in the world. But that’s how we built our fortune, our legacy. I’ve survived before, I’m sure I will again. If you need anything while I’m gone, you can call the house. Criston knows that you’re to be taken care of.”

“No one else can go to Norway instead of you?”

“I have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my responsibility.”

“Because Viserys told you to?”

“They amount to the same thing.”

“I don’t think you should listen to him.”

“I have to go,” Aemond says again. He takes out his wallet and lays $30 on the table. “But there’s something I need to show you first.”

As Aemond’s red Audi Quattro barrels down Route 70 southbound towards Napoleonville, you say very little to each other. Once you were strangers, and the words flowed easily and your bodies intertwined with effortless need, and now you have known each other for nearly two months and shared days and nights and confessions and yet every ghost filled up the space between you until it was a splinter, a gap, a gulf, a chasm. You miss the person he was when he showed up on your sloping, creaking porch steps back in May. You miss the person you were before you found out about Christabel.

A Men At Work song comes on the car radio, and it takes you a moment to figure out which one. It’s Down Under, a bewildering hit from 1981. “I never understood this song,” you say, staring through the open window as a jungle of southern live oaks, dogwoods, and cypresses rolls by. Rivulets of opaque, slow-moving bayou water snake through the wild green. Pelicans flap their wings in the pink-golden dusk sky. “What’s a head full of zombie? What’s a Vegemite sandwich?”

Aemond laughs, a smoldering Marlboro Red nestled in his left hand. You wonder if once he’s married he’ll wear a gold band on his ring finger, if he’ll take it off when he cheats with you. “Cupcake, it’s obviously about Australia.”

“What?”

“Down Under? As in, literally below the rest of us in the Southern Hemisphere? Head full of zombie means they’ve been smoking weed. Vegemite is a kind of yeast spread they put on sandwiches. I’ve had it, it’s disgusting. The whole song is in Australian slang. Everyone knows it’s about Australia.”

I didn’t. You look out your window again. Aemond takes note and swiftly backpedals.

“But I mean, I can see how an American wouldn’t know that. No big deal, okay? To anyone in the Commonwealth, Australia is like our fuckup sibling. It’s our Aegon. But you guys probably don’t really learn about Australia in school. So…yeah. It’s probably not as obvious as I assumed.”

“Maybe I missed that lesson,” you say. Maybe I missed that year.

In a brand new neighborhood just outside the town center of Napoleonville, Aemond parks in the paved driveway of a ranch house on a three or four acre lot. The yard is bordered by a white masonry fence with chicken wire around the base to keep snakes and gators out. There are a few dogwood and bay laurel trees, and one monstrous southern live oak that’s probably two hundred years old. Aemond cuts the Audi Quattro’s engine and steps out into the twilight.

“Aemond? What are we doing here?”

“Follow me.”

“Why?”

He walks around to your side of the car, opens the door, and leans down to grab your face with his right hand, his fingers hooked around the curve of your jaw. Instantly, there is a bolt down your spine: hunger, warmth, weakness, momentum that is thoughtless like falling from a great height. “Follow me,” he repeats, grinning mischievously. “Right now.”

Aemond has a key that unlocks the front door. Inside is rose pink carpeting and mauve walls, a sunken conversation pit, popcorn ceilings, mini blinds on the windows, closet doors covered with mirrors. You can see your face reflected in them, puzzled.

“This is the living room, clearly,” Aemond says as he continues briskly through the house. As an afterthought, he kicks off his Adidas sneakers so he doesn’t track any dirt inside. You do the same, sliding off your cheap flats from Kmart. He points down a hallway. “There are two guest bedrooms down there, and then a big one at the other end of the house with its own private bath. Here’s the kitchen…” He leads you through it, mint green with pristine black and white tiles on the floor. “And over there is the dining room.” It’s a kind, golden yellow like dawn or sunset.

“Aemond, what—?”

“Bedroom next,” he interrupts, hurrying you along.

At the end of the hall, he opens a door to reveal a sprawling chamber. It is blue like his bedroom in the Targaryen mansion, but not a deep, vivid sapphire color; it is a pale blue like prairie flax or a clear midday sky. The carpet is lush and soft. There are mirrors on the ceiling.

“Those are optional,” Aemond clarifies, pointing upwards. “But personally, I like them.”

“Aemond, whose house is this?”

“It’s yours,” he says.

“It’s what?!”

“Well, technically, it isn’t yours quite yet,” he admits. “I bought it in cash, it will close in a week or two. At that point I’ll sell it to you for $1—the same price as one of your cupcakes, incidentally—and then it will officially be your house. And it doesn’t even have a sinking foundation or any alligators. Imagine the possibilities.”

“But…but…”

“Cadi’s bedroom is green, like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I’ve been told the yard is big enough for one horse, or two very small horses. Ponies, I guess.”

“You cannot buy me a house,” you say, aghast.

“I think I already did.” He holds out the key to you, resting in his palm among lines of prophesy.

You are paralyzed; it takes you forever to find your words. “Aemond, I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. It’s a gift, not a trade,” he says, the key still lying in his outstretched hand. “Every cent I spend on you, every second I spend with you, is solely because I want to do it and for no other reason. There’s no obligation. There’s no quid pro quo. And that’s what I feel like you don’t understand. I have no logical reason to keep you in my life, absolutely none, aside from the fact that I want you to be here. And I want that with everything I’m made of. I never stop wanting it. So let me help you. Take the key. Take the house.”

His right eye is on you, imploring, commanding. At last, you lift the key from his palm. Studying it like the cryptic letter of a foreign language, you murmur: “You shouldn’t have done this.”

Aemond rakes his fingers through your hair, tilts your face up towards his, skims his lips feather-lightly from your cheekbone down to your lips—though he doesn’t kiss you, only ghosts his flesh over yours, a taste, a taunt—and then up to the curl of your ear. His whispered voice is colored with wicked scarlet desire. “You don’t tell me what to do. I tell you what to do.”

If he yanked off your t-shirt you would let him. If he unzipped your denim shorts and slipped his artful fingers inside them he would find panties soaked through for him. You would let him do anything he wanted to you, here in this glass-fragile liminality before he becomes Christabel’s in law, in body, in inked and inerasable history. But it would not be because you want to, not because you feel ready in your bones, not because you trust him again. It would only be because you could not bring yourself to resist.

Aemond reads this on your face; he stops before you have to tell him to.

~~~~~~~~~~

On July 1st, Cascade Stables is swarming with parents as they descend upon the property to collect their children and meet the horses they’ve spent the past week with. There is a stereo somewhere blaring Your Love by The Outfield; apparently, this does not disturb the horses. You find Cadi beside the stall of a very tall, willowy beast, ears upright and alert, one bulging eye onyx and the other a striking icy blue. Its coat is white with a splattering of rust-colored stains. Even its mane and tail are comprised of alternating strands, dark, light, earth, clouds, cocoa powder, granulated sugar.

“His name is Patches,” Cadi tells you proudly as she pets the leviathan’s velvety muzzle. “He has a wall eye. And he’s a real handful and usually they only allow the experienced campers to ride him, but they let me try and he listened so well I got to keep him all week!”

“Wow, that’s incredible! Good job! Did you learn a lot about how to take care of him?”

“Yeah. They taught me how to feed Patches and clean his hooves and put a saddle on him. And how to hit him with a hairbrush when he tries to bite me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Right. Okay.”

“Can we buy him? He’s for sale. Probably because of all the biting.”

“Who, Patches?” You definitely cannot afford to board a horse; and then you remember the new house. “I’ll think about it.”

Cadi peeks around you. “Daddy isn’t here too?”

“No, honey, I’m sorry. He had to work. But he really wanted to see the horses and he is looking forward to hearing all about your adventures.” This is a lie—Willis seems only dimly aware of the concept of a horse camp, and he is staunchly incurious by nature—but a compassionate one.

Cadi accepts the explanation readily enough. “Alright. Is Aemond your boyfriend yet?”

“Um.” You thread the horse’s forelock through your fingers to buy yourself time. It seems unwise to try to deceive her again; Cadi will learn about Christabel sooner or later. “No, we’re still just friends.” You pause. She watches you, knowing there’s more. “Actually, he’s getting married this month.”

“What?!” Cadi is shocked, but she’s outraged too. “To who?!”

“To a nice lady named Christabel. And I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.” Another lie. And you think for the first time: If I settle for being Aemond’s mistress, if I let it tear me to pieces…what am I teaching Cadi?

Your daughter doesn’t say anything for a long time. She pets Patches’ speckled face, her own expression tense and thoughtful, lines and worries that should be far beyond her age. At last she says quietly: “Is it because of me?”

You are mystified. “What, honey?”

“Is the reason why you and Aemond can’t get married because of me?”

There is a flash of crimson wrath in your skull—protective, animalistic, wronged on her behalf—but no one to direct it at. “No. No, absolutely not. Why would you say that?”

Cadi shrugs, and you recognize it as her self-preservation, faux-flippant shrug. “I don’t know. One time I heard Michelle’s mom talking about how no decent man wants to deal with some other guy’s kids. And that’s me when I’m at your house. Another guy’s kid.”

Oh, fuck you, Janet. “No,” you say again. “Aemond likes you a lot, Cadi. He cares about you.” He picked out a house that could accommodate a horse for you. “You’re the opposite of a problem. He actually likes me more because of you, I think.”

“Okay.” And she’s relieved, although she’s trying not to show it. “Then why is he marrying someone else?”

“Well…it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Where the hell do I start? “Aemond and I are very different people,” you tell Cadi. “And we want different things out of life. We like to spend time together, but that doesn’t mean that we’d be able to share our whole lives…homes, careers, values, everything. His family has a lot of expectations of him that I don’t feel right supporting, but Aemond wants to respect their rules. And, you know. He’s a robber baron.”

“But he doesn’t talk about Jade Dragon Energy or oil around me. He talks about history.”

You sigh, watching dust motes swirl through the hot, sunlit stable air, listening to horses nicker and huff. “I know, honey.”

“I don’t even think he wants to be a robber baron. I think he wants to be something else.”

“Like what?” you ask, picking stray bits of yellow straw out of her short, disheveled hair. And remarkably, Cadi tolerates this.

“I don’t know, just…just…” She battles with the words, then finds one she likes. “Free, I guess. Just free.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n

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anthurak · 26 days

Text

One thing that always feels so funny for me when it comes to the Rosebird Parents Theory isn’t when people simply disagree with the theory, but rather people apparently seeing the prospect of a ‘Raven is Ruby’s real father’ reveal to be this totally unthinkable thing and how could anyone ever think this could happen?!

Because once you get past the whole ‘two ladies making a baby’ hurtle, Raven being Ruby’s dad really fits into so many well-known fantasy/sci-fi tropes. Many of which RWBY notably has not done yet, or have already been tied to Raven herself.

I mean, the mysterious villainous and/or anti-heroic loner with ties to the family pulling an ‘I am your Father’ reveal on the protagonist? That’s a fucking CLASSIC. Hell, let’s consider a few things about Raven:

Big, intimidating helmet.

Clear Samurai inspiration.

Wields a katana-like sword that technically has an energy blade (dust=energy) which is generally RED-colored.

Possesses mysterious and terrible over-worldly powers.

Has a mysterious past tied to our protagonist’(s) family.

Was probably in love with our protagonist’s (apparently) dead mother.

Yeah I’d say Raven makes for a pretty good Darth Vader-expy.*

Beyond that specific case, we’ve already seen the story connect Raven to a BUNCH of ‘mysterious and angsty deadbeat dad who left their kid for unclear reasons’ tropes when it comes to Yang. Why not have those apply to Ruby as well? People have been clamoring for years about wanting to see Summer’s narrative dynamic with Yang explored as much as the one she has with Ruby, so why not have the reverse be true with Raven and Ruby as well?

After all, it seems that the story has now given Ruby a reason to seek Raven for answers just as Yang once did.

And as I’ve noted in previous Rosebird Parents posts, No I don’t believe Raven also being Ruby’s deadbeat dad would be somehow ‘redundant’. Particularly because the context is completely different: Yang has known that Raven is her birth-mother for most of her life, whereas Ruby would only just now be finding out that Raven is her birth-father. Far from being redundant, this would allow the story to explore two very different responses of kids to an absent parent: One who has had to live with the knowledge of that absent parent for years, and one who hasn’t and has to deal with this NEW information suddenly getting dropped on her.

Plus, as I alluded to earlier, it’s rather notable that RWBY hasn’t done some big ‘dramatic parent reveal’, given how much of a staple it is to the genre. And given how reimagining, twisting and flipping classic and well-worn fairytale/folklore/fantasy tropes (often via playing with gender-roles) is basically RWBY’s bread and butter at this point, I’d say giving the series heroine an ‘I am your father’ reveal from a woman would fit PERFECTLY in this series.

And if you’re going to ask ‘but how do two ladies make baby?!?’,

Raven can be intersex. Boom. Done.

Alternatively, magic.

As an aside, yes Summer being trans is a perfectly viable alternative. I just think logistically speaking, Raven being intersex and being Ruby’s ‘father’ makes a dramatic reveal a bit more streamlined. Also, the idea of Raven managing to be BOTH a deadbeat mom AND a deadbeat dad is just too funny XD

*Of course, this comparison gets even more fun when we consider Summer having her own Vader-parallels, ie; Summer almost certainly being taken by Salem and given what we can probably assume to be a Vader-esque makeover via grimm-hybridization in setup for a big reveal. So when we combine this with Raven, I think we can view what happened on their last mission as ‘What if Padme/Obi-wan got turned into Vader INSTEAD of Anakin?’ Like Raven in the present is basically Anakin doing Obi-wan’s traumatized hermit shtick, except all angry and edgy because it’s still Anakin.

#rwby #rwby theory #Raven Branwen #Ruby Rose #Summer Rose #rosebird #rosebird parents #rosebird parents theory #star wars references #guess who's back on their bullshit? XD

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readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

Requiem for a Dream

Part 3: Change

(Two months into Rhysand's Return home)

Rhysand and Rhiannon are still walking around their sexual tension, but our high lord has finally decided enough is enough. After a month of lingering touching, glances, and true re-courtship, he wants his mate in his bed.

Warnings - Smut, NSFW, D/S dynamics (daddy/Princess and sex slave/master) ownership kink, praise kink, oral (F Recv), not edited. Minors- DNI

A/N - This is kind of that last step before the peak of Rhys, in reality, reclaiming his sexual being, which is a journey a lot of SA survivors go through. While everyone's journey is different and models different patterns, I felt Rhysand's NEEDED to show aspects of regaining domination and control, and I do not feel that was truly shown or touched on by SJM.

Rhiannon's character, at this point, may not be for everyone. She is very submissive due to her own trauma and back story I crafted for her. Let me know your thoughts, feelings, if you want more, have gripes. Also, the song in mind is "Change (In the House of Flies)" by Deftones. The theme to one of my absolute favorite movie sex scenes in history.

Author ps - as an active member of the kink scene, I see festish written on here, but it never comes with this warning and when we do not know who is reading our stories, I feel like it needs to be said.

Please DO NOT ENGAGE IN BDSM with a partner you do not fully trust. BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, all varieties, and sex in general need to be based on trust and the care for each other's emotional well-being. You all deserve the best, give yourselves the ability to have that 💜 love yourself enough to WANT and NEED to have that.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Part One Part Two Part Four

Rhys had convinced Rhiannon to join him for dinner alone in the River House. They ate in silence, hands held over the table. They were dressed casually. She was wearing a dark plum sweater that went down to her mid thigh, tight black leggings and fuzzy socks. Rhysand had on a cream sweater with casual pants.

He had asked the twins to make her favorite meal. Elk steaks, potatoes with gravy, greens, and homemade bread and butter. He had personally flown into Velaris, arriving at a sweet shop his mate absolutely loves, asking if they had her favorite cupcakes available that day. They had made them for him, without hesitation as he did some other shopping for her. She was eyeing them with a sparkle he had not seen from her since his arrival home. But after all, what female could possibly resist the imported vanilla and sea salt caramel this bakery used.

"When were you going to call on the bargain with Feyre? I'm worried about her powers eating her alive." Rhys looked at Rhiannon. "He won't train her. She needs to be with someone who will."

Rhys nodded. "I assume the realm gave you that information?" She nodded. "I would like to ensure my own home and court are on a stable foundation before bringing her here."

Rhiannon was no fool. She knew immediately what he meant. She gently put her silverware down, turning to look at her husband. "I did not realize there were issues in the foundation. Is something wrong in the court?"

Rhysand sighed. He wouldn't be able to woo her now. This conversation was happening, and it was happening much sooner than he anticipated for the night. "Not necessarily with the court itself. I worry more about my family and Inner Circle." Rhys paused to turn to her, "My wife hasn't kissed me since I arrived home, despite many chances and opportunities to do so. I keep attempting to recourt her with countless gifts, praise, and flirtation, but I just cannot seem to bring her into my bed." Rhys paused to watch her look down. "You are my most trusted advisor when it comes to Illyrian Females, Rhiannon. Do you have any suggestions on how I can get my wife to be close to me again?"

Rhiannon put her silverware down, clearing her throat before responding. "Is she possibly afraid that reciprocating your affections may hurt you or the progress you've made?"

Rhysand smirked, finally getting the answers he needed. "I would not know," he laced their fingers together. "Aside from asking me how my day was, doing her duties to fill me in on her assignments, and small conversations, she has all but closed me out. I know she loves me. I just worry that maybe I am not doing enough to show her I would like to begin the process of us going back to who we are."

Rhiannon felt tears lining her eyes. "I know you still have nightmares about her, Rhys. I just feel like sleeping with you, touching you, or even kissing you is retraumatizing you. I love you too much to risk hurting you emotionally and mentally."

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine before beginning to speak to her. "I appreciate how much you care. I have always loved your empathy and kindness, darling. I want to sleep with you at my side, though. I want to hold you. To kiss you. To fuck you until I cannot tell where you stop and I begin." He took another deep drink. "I am ready to try, my nightingale. I need to try. Madja believes I am ready. I believe I am ready. Please, Rhiannon, come to bed with me tonight."

She nodded. "And we will stop if it is too much?" He sent her confirmation down the bond. "Mor made me wear something pretty under this for you. Just in case." His ears perked up at that. He took her hand, dinner long forgotten, and pulled her to their large bedroom.

Rhysand took the chair that sat across from their bed, leaning forward on his elbows as Rhiannon stood close to him. "Take your clothing off." Her scent hit him immediately. The sweet scent of her arousal mixed with the normal soft smell of moonflowers and honey. He watched, eyes fixated on every inch of slowly exposed skin as her sweater was removed and set on the desk near them.

She went to remove her leggings next after he gave her a nod, exposing her muscled thighs to him first. He groaned loudly at the sight of her mating mark. The delicate pattern of swirls and stars that ran the expanse of her leg, mapping out the night sky at the exact time they accepted the bond.

Mor had picked a wonderful little set for her to wear. A black haltered bra made of strictly lace and mesh that left nothing to his imagination, a matching high waist thong, and stockings that stopped at her midthigh. He patted his lap, leaning back as she crawled to straddle him.

They studied each other for a few seconds. His fingers ghosting the new muscles she had earned while training with Cassian, then her pretty throat, then her breasts and stomach, before reaching her panty line. "Mate, please." The bond was banging like a war drum in both of their ribcages, right where it connected their hearts. "Rhysand, please."

He pulled her to him, locking their lips for the first time in 50 years and moaning at the taste of her. It was exactly how he remembered, yet so different. Her lips were soft on his, tasting faintly of the sweet red wine she had been drinking. The bond began to almost hum, begging for more.

She fully submitted to him, allowing him to control the pace and pressure. One of his arms quickly wrapped around her hourglass waist while the other went up her back, allowing his hand to tangle into her hair.

It was a familiar position to them. One they had been caught in countless times by Azriel, by Cassian, by his mother. He almost smiled, remembering the first time Azriel had walked in on Rhysand pounding into his sister while she moaned and cried for him. Every single punch of the absolute beating her older brother had given him that day was worth it. Every single punch Azriel still gave him was worth it.

Their first time seemed so distant now as he pulled away from her, lifting her and carrying her to their marriage bed, kissing her throat, and whispered praise into her soft skin. He laid her gently down and sat on his knees between her legs.

Her dark hair was spread out in every direction, her pupils slightly dilated as she began to enter the part of her mind and behavior only he had the pleasure of seeing. Her lips were swollen, bringing out the soft blush they naturally had even more. He ran his thumb down them, smiling as she immediately opened her mouth and began to suck the digit, looking at him with her wide eyes.

"Such a beautiful little treat, aren't you, darling?" He pulled his thumb from her lips, "You're dripping already. Daddy wants to have his favorite dessert. Is that okay with his princess?" She whined, her back arching slightly off the bed. "Words, my darling. Daddy asked you a question."

She looked up at him, wide eyed. "Please Daddy. Need you. I'll be a good girl." Her submission had him ripping his own shirt off and removing his pants with speed he hardly knew he still had in him as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees to be closer to her dripping cunt.

"I wanted to take my time with you, worship you and this body of yours, but I fear I just do not have the patience for all of that today." He misted the now offensive lace from her body, leaving only the thigh highs and growled at the sight before him. "Such a pretty cunt, Rhiannon. Who does she belong to?"

Rhiannon was already breathing heavily. "You. I am yours."

He growled, throwing her legs over his shoulder. "Good girl." Without warning Rhys began his assault. Licking long stripes from her leaking hole the the apex of her thighs. He drank from her like a man receiving water after being trapped in a desert for too long. He was starving for her. Aching for her. He groaned as her hands found his hair and gently tugged to bring him closer to her clit.

He had missed this. He had missed waking her up with his head between her legs. He had missed the feeling of her tight entrance twitching on his tongue. He had missed the sweet taste of her. He pushed his tongue into her, nose nudging that sweet bundle of nerves, "Fuck daddy, yes!" Her back arched of the bed, and he instantly locked her down with his forearm, growling at her in warning.

Keep still like a good little toy, or I will leave you dripping and aching. He continued his feast, knowing fully well he couldn't, and wouldn't, do that to her. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly, and moaning as it earned him a harsher tug on his hair.

His free hand moved up, taking some of her wetness on one finger before slowly pushing it into her. She was tight. So tight. His pretty girl only had her own fingers to play with, and he realized he'd need to slowly stretch her back open all over again for him to slip inside of her like the little sleeve he had made her to be again.

He smirked at the thought of retraining her to be constantly wet and ready to take him at a moment's notice. He curled the one finger, chuckling against her as she swore and prayed to the Gods. Just Rhys or daddy is fine, darling. There are no Gods here to save you from me.

"Rhys!" She gasped loudly as he slowly put another finger inside of her, moving them in and out and curling them into the soft spongy spot that he knew made her see stars. "Fuck please don't stop." He doubled his efforts, moving his fingers faster, sucking and licking at her clit a little harder as she began to flutter around him. That tight coil in her stomach was winding itself up faster and faster with each well planned lick, suck, and curl.

Is my little princess going to cum? A loud whimper of his name came as her breathing picked up. Does my princess have permission to cum?

"Daddy please. I need it. I need to cum. Please." Rhys removed his mouth from her nerves, keeping himself within licking distance.

"Who makes you feel this good? Who is the only male who gets to make you feel like this, huh?" He went back to licking circles and figure 8s on her as his fingers began to move even faster.

The room was filled with her cries, her pleads, and the sound of her wetness. Rhys released his hold on her hips, only for tendrils of darkness to take his forearms place to begin the quick mission of stroking his cock. I asked you a fucking question, Rhiannon. Scream. Scream for all of Velaris who is making you feel this good.

And she did. Her walls locked and began squeezing his fingers as she screamed his name over and over. The tight coil in her stomach releasing and causing more wetness to flood her mate. He moaned against her core, refusing to slow down until he also found his peak. That refusal instantly sent Rhiannon back over the edge with little effort. One graze of his teeth gently against her clit had her crying out of him again, and then him roaring as he came seconds later.

His head fell into her thigh, peppering small kisses there as his hips rutted, and they rode out their bliss together. She tugged the bond, silently begging him to come hold her, and he obeyed. He laid on his back, pulling her into his side, and began playing with her hair. He placed a soft kiss on her lips before trapping her in a more heated one.

One month, he said to her mentally. In one more month, I'm fucking you on every surface of this house. She smiled against his chest, nodding.

"Is that a promise, my love?" She held her pinky to him, making him chuckle and smile as he enloped it into his larger one and pulled her into another deep kiss. A feeling of the familiar zip of a promise being made hit them both. New tattoos, three small stars, adorned their left ring fingers, right above their wedding rings.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Requiem for a Dream Tag List:

@horneybeach1

@we-were-beautiful

@cat-or-kitten

@twsssmlmaa

@dream-alittlebiggerdarling

@tothestarsandwhateverend

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys fic #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Making a Mess

Felix x Female reader

Word count: 2.6k (drabble)

Synopsis: You come over to help Felix bake his revenge for Seungmin and things get a little sticky.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! Okay so I don't know who wrote this.... wasn't me... nope... definitely not me...👀 BUT if you enjoy reading please do reblog, comment, like, shoot me an ask your feedback is my bread and butter! As always warnings and SMUT under the cut! 5/8

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, lots of dirty talking (again), slight voyerism, mentions of anal sex, mentions of cuckolding, mentions of three way sex, mentions of double penetration, cum eating, hair pulling, food play, protected piv sex, MC dom/Felix sub dynamic (they switch back and forth but MC is mainly dominant), pet names (mainly Felix being called angel, good boy, bad boy, etc), praise, oral (m&f receiving), begging, face riding, deep throating, breath play (kinda), slight degradation (kinda not really), I think that's all but if I missed anything (was their anything to miss lmao) please do let me know and I'll add it immediately!

You and Chan showered together, to save water, definitely not just to make out. You finally got out and when Chan saw the beads of water dripping down your body, he bent you over the bathroom counter and fucked you hard, then you both showered off again. When you got out the second time he stood behind you and started kissing your neck.

“If you keep this up you’re going to run out of hot water.” He laughed against your skin and it gave you goosebumps.

“Sorry it’s just those sweet little sounds you make kinda make me crazy.” His fingers ghosted down your side and it tickled you as he tried to bury his face into the crook of your neck. You laughed loudly and pushed him off.

“Well then add a strait jacket to your wish list psycho. I have to leave before any of the guys get home.” Chan relinquished and let you dry off while he grabbed a t-shirt and pair of shorts for you to wear home since your clothes were scraps of fabric on the workout room floor.

“Oh my fucking god the workout room.” Chan pulled you close.

“Don’t worry about that baby girl, I’ve got it, kinda my mess anyway.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you pinched him.

“Ow! Hey...”

“Sorry.” Chan leaned down; his nose gently rubbed against yours.

“Kiss it better.” You closed your eyes and leaned in to kiss him and he kissed you sweetly. You turned to leave and he grabbed your hand.

“Next time you wanna do pilates... definitely call me.” You nodded, both of you laughing and then he let go so you could head out.

It was the Sunday before board game night and you were over helping Felix do some baking. What was on the menu? Sweet... well salty revenge. Felix was setting up all the ingredients with a small pout on his face.

“What’s wrong Lix? This is payback you’re supposed to be enjoying it.” He let out a small sigh.

“Do we have to ruin the whole batch with salt? Can’t we do just a couple and let the other guys have the rest?” You smiled and were endeared by how sweet one man could be.

“That is a great idea Felix! They’ve defiantly earned some cookies.” You said without thinking.

“Oh? What did they do?” Your cheeks started heating up and you shrugged.

“Uh well... I mean don’t you think they have? You all work so hard.” Felix nodded in agreement.

“You’re right! Okay so only two salty cookies for Seungmin and the rest for everyone else... well Seungmin can have ONE regular cookie. Just one though.” You were completely endeared by this sweet angel of a man. You both started mixing the ingredients. You had to make both the cookie dough and icing, the icing being what you planned on salting so you didn’t throw off the cookie recipe. You put the first batch of cookies into the oven and started making the icing, you would scoop a little into a small bowl to reserve for the salty cookies. Felix was mixing the powdered sugar and milk and making more of a mess than the kitchen already was from making the dough.

“Lix sweetie you’re like a tornado, let me help mix it.” He giggled as you took over mixing the icing. He dipped his finger in some that had dripped on the counter and smeared it on the side of your cheek right by your mouth. You stuck your tongue out and licked it laughing and whining.

“Lixiiiie what part of you’re making a mess did you not understand. We gotta get these done before Seungmin gets home.” He smiled at you and watched as you mixed the icing more.

“Why are you helping me do this?” You looked over at him and smiled.

“Because Yongbokie, you’re an angel baby and no one messes with my Lixie, not even Kim Seungmin.” Felix smiled and looked down; his freckled cheeks turned pink. He swiped his finger in the bowl of icing this time and you looked at him incredulously

“y/n, I’m not always an angel you know?” You looked at him a little surprised.

“Wha-” Before you could say anything Felix swiped his finger coated in sugary icing across your lips and kissed them. He pulled away licking the remnants off his own lips and now you were blushing.

“Lixie! What’s gotten into you?” He leaned close to your ear.

“I heard you and Channie hyung.” He whispered, his voice was low and washed over you and your eyes went wide.

“Wha- but no one was here!” Felix smirked and cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I came home and grabbed dance gear after the studio. I peeked in the workout room to say hi to you and Channie hyung and all I saw was ripped up workout clothes and a puddle. You and Channie hyung were in the bathroom.” How did this keep happening to you? You were either the dumbest or luckiest woman on the planet you weren’t sure yet, maybe both. He was still standing so close to you but not touching you

“Wh-what did you hear?” Felix smiled sweetly but there was something in his eyes you had never seen before.

“I heard Chan hyung bending you over the counter and fucking you real hard.” You could feel your arousal in your panties already just from Felix’s words and the depth of his voice.

“Would you really let him?” He asked suddenly. You looked at Felix confused by his question. He got very close again, his breath fanning across your skin and his voice rumbled in your ear again.

“Would you really let him fuck your ass?” You clenched and you went wide eyed again. Chan had made mention more than once that he’d love to fuck you in the ass while he railed you in the workout room and bathroom.

“How much did you hear exactly Lixie?” He smiled and ran his fingers down your arm.

“Well I was being a little bad y/n I can’t lie. I stood out there the whole time Chan hyung was fucking you, squeezing my cock trying not to cum in my pants. I really wish I could have watched.” Your whole body was on fire and Felix had only traced his fingers along your skin and talked.

“Lix?!” He smiled.

“Does that surprise you?” You nodded.

“A little... so... you would want to watch Chan fuck me?” Felix closed his eyes and bit his lip.

“Oh fuck yes. I’d love it.” You hummed.

“And you would want to watch Channie fuck my ass?” Felix scrunched his eyes, his hand finding his cock over his sweats and squeezing.

“Oh my fucking god yes. I’d cum so hard all over myself seeing him take your asshole the first time. Would you like that? To see me make a mess of myself while Channie hung fucked your brains out.” You nodded.

“Would you lick me clean after?” You nodded again. Felix whipped his shirt off, pulled down his sweats and briefs, and stood there his firm body on display completely naked. He swipped his finger in the icing again and rubbed it down the shaft of his already throbbing cock.

“Get on your knees and show me how you’d clean me baby.” You did as Felix requested and got on your knees, his cock dripping sweet icing in front of your face. You opened your mouth and looked up at him.

“Show me and I promise I’ll be such a good boy for you.” You put your hands behind you, stuck out your tongue and started kitten licking the icing off of Felix’s dick. He gripped the base of his cock and held it steady for you.

“That’s it clean it all off.” You took Felix’s cock into your mouth and started sucking him off. His hand found your hair and pulled, the delicious sting shooting all the way to you wet cunt.

“Ffuck y/n yes! Suck it harder.” You started sucking his dick harder.

“FUCK HARDER SUCK ME HARDER PLEASE!” You started sucking on Felix’s cock so hard the tip turned angry and red.

“Oh god yes fuck yes.” Felix pulled your hair pushing you up and down his dick a few more times before pulling you off.

“Take off your clothes, lay on the floor.” You weren’t used to Felix being so assertive. You took your clothes off quickly and laid down on the floor. Felix got on his knees and spread your legs apart before reaching for a spoon, dipping it in the icing and drizzling it all over your pussy.

“You’re going to want to sit up and watch this.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as Felix’s face disappeared between your legs and started cleaning the icing off you. He came up for a breath and you saw his chin coated in icing and your arousal.

“Fuuuck Lixie, you look so pretty covered in my juices, be a good boy and clean me up good.” He dove back in slurping, drooling, and eating you out as if he was starving for you.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum Felix!” The lowest growl you had ever heard rumbled from Felix’s chest and he doubled his efforts, making an absolute mess while he devoured your cunt and sent you teetering over the edge. You came hard and grinded your hips into Felix’s face riding it as your hands found his fluffy blonde hair and shoved him further into your pussy.

“GOD YES LIXIE GOOD BOY! SWEET ANGEL FUCKING EAT MY PUSSY BABY!” Felix slurped and pull off you when your back finally stopped arching and hit the ground again. Felix sat up between your legs, sweet eyes looking down at you as you tried to catch your breath.

“Can I fuck you?” You looked up at him and smiled. You sat up and pushed him to sit with his back against the cabinets.

“You just wait right there angel I’ll be right back.” You ran butt ass naked through the apartment and into Minho’s room. You knew he kept condoms in his bedside drawer. You quickly grabbed one and ran back to Felix. When you got to the kitchen you saw him sitting there legs stretched out, tugging on his leaking cock.

“You want my pussy baby?” Felix looked up at you with those angel eyes of his nodding.

“I do, please fuck me, use my cock however you want just please FUCK ME!” You knelt in front of him and took his dick from his hand. You ripped open the condom and rolled it down his cock slowly, he bit his lip and moaned as you did then you straddled Felix’s lap, lined his cock up with your slick cunt and sank down onto him.

“OH FUCK Y/N!” You cooed at him.

“Mmm I know! Lixie baby you feel so good inside me.” He groaned and grabbed a hold of your hips. You rolled them forward grinding on his cock and his hold tightened.

“Yes so fucking tight! How are you this tight after Channie hyung pounded your little cunt hmm?” You moaned and started bouncing on Felix’s cock as you played with your nipples pinching and tugging them. Felix grabbed the bowl of icing and dumped almost all of it all over your tits. The icing dripping down your body. Felix pulled you close and started to lick and clean all the sticky liquid off your breasts, sucking hard on your nipples. He popped off with icing coating his face. You cupped his cheeks and licked icing off his face before shoving your tongue in his mouth. Your warm wet walls hugged him so tightly he pulled away cussing.

“Fuck! Yes! I’m such a bad boy y/n. I wanna see Chan hyung take your asshole so bad, you’d let me fuck your tight pussy while he filled your ass? Hmm?” You clenched so hard around Felix’s cock he couldn’t help the whimper that came out of him.

“God you are a bad boy Lixie! I’d still let my sweet angel fill my cunt while Channie took my ass!” Felix aided you as you continued bouncing up and down, your slick pussy slapping into his lap over and over.

“Fuck you’re so wet! Thinking of me and Chan hyung fucking both your holes gets you this wet?” You could feel your orgasm fast approaching. You held onto Felix’s shoulders and started riding him like a fucking porn star. You didn’t know what came over you but words just started coming from your mouth as you climbed closer and closer to your climax.

“FUCK! Beg me angel! Let me hear you loud and clear!” You and Felix were both sweating, icing covering your bodies, wet and sticky.

“Please y/n PLEASE let me watch Channie hyung fuck your ass!” You continued bouncing on his cock, your pussy squelching every time. You started rubbing your clit hard.

“Oh angel you can do better than that! Come on, be a good boy and beg me to let you watch Channie destroy my ass! Beg me to let you eat his cum from me while I suck his cock. BEG ME TO LET YOU CUM DOWN MY THROAT ANGEL FUCK!”

“OH PLEASE PLEASE GOD YES Y/N PLEASE LET ME WATCH HIM FILL YOUR ASS I PROMISE TO BE A GOOD BOY I’LL BE A GOOD BOY AND CLEAN IT ALL UP JUST LET ME WATCH FUCK!” Your cunt was a vice grip as you came hard on Felix’s cock, you could feel your arousal gushing from you. You bounced and the wet sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. You were grinding in Felix’s lap as you came down. You leaned forward cooing in his ear. He had tears in his eyes.

“Aww good boy, my sweet sweet Yongbokie. Are you gonna blow for me? Hm?” Felix nodded quickly.

“You were such a good boy, you sounded so sweet begging like that. Now angel, do you want to cum down my throat?” Felix’s eyes went wide.

“Can I!? Oh god please can I cum in your mouth.” You nodded and lifted up letting Felix’s cock slide out of you and slap against his abs.

“Stand up for me baby.” Felix did as you asked immedeitly. You rolled the condom off his dick.

“Okay angel now fuck my mouth and cum down my throat. You earned it baby.” You swallowed Felix’s whole cock at once.

“OOOohhh ffuuuuck!” Felix leaned over pushing your face into his pubic muscle and holding you down as he thrusted into your throat making you gag, choke, and drool. He pulled you off and you stroked him so hard you would think it would hurt but Felix loved it.

“That’s it angel that’s it, lose it for me, blow for me.” He shoved you back on his cock and pushed your head down all the way again.

“I’m go-gonna cum y/n fuck! I’m gonna.” The head of his cock twitched at the back of your throat and Felix’s salty cum mixed with the sweet icing filled your mouth. Felix pulled your hair pulling you off his cock and then smoothed it down gently. You looked up at him a whole mess, fucked out, covered in spit, cum, and icing then you opened your mouth and showed Felix his load of cum, you swallowed and stuck out your tongue licking off any remnants of his seed and icing from around your mouth.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @3rachasninja

“Mmm Lixie you taste sweeter than the icing.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee felix smut #lee felix yongbok smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz smut drabble series

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chubs-deuce · 3 months

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I think I also saw a post explaining that if a ship in the fandom got too popular, the network producers would try and force that ship to become canon.

It's like, I love Charlastor, but I really don't want it to be canon. I feel like non canon ships are more fun!

yeah!!! 100% agreed, and I despise it when producers actually let that happen too :/ Glaring very hard at the grossly entitled people a good while back to tried to sway their preferred ship into canonicity by doing petitions....

I wouldn't want charlastor to be canon tbh.

It's, frankly, wild to me that so many people even equate shipping to exclusively mean "to root for two or more characters to get romantically involved in the source material", and any exploration of dynamics beyond that is then frowned upon, shamed or invalidated.

To an unfortunately large amount of people, shipping is little more than a popularity contest :')

To me, a huge part of the appeal in shipping is that it's a means to explore interpersonal character dynamics from a piece of media in ways we don't necessarily see happen in canon.

I LOVE non-canon ships for the fact that they leave us with SO much creative freedom! [more in-depth thoughts + what appeals to me about charlastor under the cut]

It allows us to hypothesize and experiment in-depth with how these characters would find their way from one type of dynamic into a different direction in so many different ways, without canon to give us one solid path to stick to.

One trope I'm very fond of in fanfiction in particular has always been slowburn with a touch of mutual pining - when a dynamic is truly given room to breathe and naturally grow into different directions and REALLY digs into the involved characters, it enables the authors to thoroughly lay out why and how their feelings change, what affected them in the process and how/when they eventually choose to act on them!

Character analysis is my bread and butter, so if a dynamic strikes my interest it's almost always because it has something unique about it far beyond just wanting to see them all lovey-dovey bc it's cute (though that can be part of it lol).

Charlie and Alastor as a combination are so intriguing to me because they're in many ways polar opposites, but simultaneously also have just enough similarities to leave a lot of potential for a genuine bond.

They combine the most conniving, manipulative, steadfastly and proudly immoral person with someone whose good intentions color absolutely everything she does, who also has the willpower and moral code to see it through.

They're like a forbidden, alluring dance, endlessly circling in each other's gravitational pull - which parts of them will prevail? Who will inevitably buckle to the other's influence first? What draws them in? What drives them apart?

I love watching Alastor's masterfully crafted plans get absolutely thwarted because he can't get a consistent read on her - a being who's - by her very nature of being part demon and part angel - a bundle of contradictions.

I'm also extremely fond of Charlie 100% seeing through him every step of the way and still keeping him around - regardless of his motivations, he is a vital, helpful part of the hotel, and she won't give up on trying to win him over for her cause in earnest.

There are very few things as funny to me as the idea of Alastor -master manipulator - being so far up his own ego, obsessing over getting a figurative hold over this fascinating and yet frustrating princess, that it takes forever for him to realize he's the one being used all along, expertly playing right into her cards.

Simultaneously, there's so many other ways to write them!!! It's just so damn fun to explore all of the what-ifs.

#there's more I could say abt all this but the post is long enough lmfaoo #charlastor #radiobelle #shipping #chubs answers #long post

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allastoredeer · 2 months

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HIIIII your Just Kiss Already series has consumed me!!!! I’m OBSESSED! Do you have any idea how long it’ll be in total? I adore slow burns but also the painnnnn of waiting. I totally understand if you don’t know but I am constantly refreshing for updates even though I know this stuff takes time! Do you happen to have any recs for radioapple fics that are similar or you’d recommend to hold me over?

Hello! Sorry for the late response.

I'm still doing a bit of reading myself, I haven't gone through all the fics I've wanted to read, but here's some of the RadioApple I've found so far that I enjoyed:

Lucifer and His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by keelywolfe - A series following the overall dysfunction and strange terrain of Lucifer and Alastor's relationship...of sorts. There is smut involved. I really enjoy the fun, disjointed dynamic between them, especially with Lucifer having to learn/figure out how Alastor thinks to get a grasp of how to interact with him. Do mind the tags, there is some unhealthy relationship in there, miscommunication on both sides, lots of dysfunction involved, and smut, but I really enjoyed their interactions and how they're learning to read each other. Also, it has bottom!Alastor which is my favorite :3

My Kingdom Come Undone by literalmetaphor - Charlie roping Alastor and Lucifer into doing trust exercises to help them get along. Heheh I really like the humor in this one. Both Alastor and Lucifer are such petty little bitches, and it amuses me to no end. They do not hold back their verbal punches. I also really like a lot of the author's descriptions. They're fun and scratch my brain in just the right way. I haven't finished it just yet because I've been busy, but it's still open in my browser so I can get back to it whenever I get time.

Unhealthy Attachments by keelywolfe - More dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer, and what Alastor gets out of having sex with Lucifer (Rated E in case that wasn't obvious). Alastor and his strategic brain, and how that bleeds into the dynamics he builds with other people. I love getting insight into his brain like that. (Another bottom!Alastor fic because 😫👌 I love that shit).

And...huh, that's it, actually. I have a few more pulled up in my browser that I'm gonna get around to reading, but as for RadioApple these are the ones I bookmarked. LOL I'm actually just noticing how many RadioStatic fics I bookmarked.

Hope you enjoy these! I love fics with a fun, bitchy Alastor and a deep-dive into his brain and social interactions with other characters. It's my bread and butter.

EDIT: I forgot to answer your question at the beginning of the asks XD Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the series! I'm not sure how long the series is going to be just yet. I know, at the very least, they'll have to kiss, per the name. My brain loves developing plots though, so it may span longer and REALLY deep dive into Alastor and Lucifer's relationships and the trials and tribulations that put it to the test.

Hopefully, I can get around to writing the next part soon!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #appleradio #lucifer magne #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #radioapple #fic recs #asks #anonymous #anon

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 4 months

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Vesuvia Weekly submission: Brainrot and the M6

I know, I know, the prompt is "your MC/their LI's dynamic", but I just play as myself and I keep my blog character neutral so @vesuviaweekly platonic selfships, here we go -

With Julian: this guy is my adopted older brother. We get to unleash our inner theatre kids and make excessively dark jokes about our trauma together. The drawback is that neither of us has a speck of self preservation -.-

With Asra: when I tell you that the vibes just boil down to "warm, fluffy, and creatively unhinged" XD I would make us homemade hot chocolate so they could add peanut butter to it. He would show up at 2 AM to help me dye my hair

With Nadia: we'd have difficulty connecting at first, not gonna lie. until we find something interesting to analyze, like canal patterns or the courtier's psychological patterns. now we have tea parties and build profiles together

With Muriel: shared physical trauma aside, I have a mighty need to bake and cook large quantities of food and then fill someone's plate multiple times. I'm about to visit this guy weekly, right after bread baking day, with soup

With Portia: she's a bookworm. I'm a bookworm. we're going to swap each other's favorite novels and have heated character and plot discussions while we try to trick each other into sharing baking secrets/tips and tricks

With Lucio: look, I know he's done some awful stuff, but that guy could use a hug. I'm giving him a hug. and then I'm going to task him with finding good places to party because he has a much bigger social battery than I do

#vesuvia weekly #MC/LI dynamics #ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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fixfoxnox · 5 months

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now that soap's (once again) joined the dead cod protagonists gang, we should all totally write fics of him and Roach smooching in the afterlife.

no but like seriously after reading your other ask response about Soap and Roach getting together and Ghost kinda being on the sidelines it did kinda make me laugh, like no hate to ghostsoap (I love them and am also a huge ghostsoaproach lover) but Roach is always either Ghost's tragic backstory lover OR, he comes back and messes the dynamic of ghostsoap up/is kinda painted as the negative third prescence.

so having the dynamics be reversed and having Soap and Roach fall in love first with Ghost as the third wheel is kinda therapeutic I'm ngl lol

tho at the end of the day I am a poly truther and believe they should all kiss, I am ALSO totally down for Roach getting more attention and love (and also more soaproach cuz they're also hella underrated)

I love love love subverting the expectations and making Ghost be the jealous third wheel. Like I'm so tired of seeing Roach AND Soap suffer because of this British fucker. Like they let a man who probably says "Chewsday" break their hearts /j

I've also just become a pretty big SoapRoach lover, but GhostRoachSoap is still my bread and butter. I love all them boys being happy together and getting all the love they deserve getting to be around one another. RAHHH GHOSTROACHSOAP SUPREMACY RAHHH

#thoughts with luke #you asked luke #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostroach #soaproach #call of duty #ghostroachsoap

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leprosycock · 2 months

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been putting some thought into things and with some tinhatting from joan and sea, i'm settled in the offbrand debacle theory hinging either mostly or entirely on the combined debacle of jrma's soft retirement and the streaming bubble popping along with the offbrand xmas party . follow this with me if you will:

jrma announces his soft retirement early last year. it's springtime. post-str3amer awards, pre-house fIipper. it's set to happen in 2024, but who are we kidding, he made his decision right then and there. 2023 was soft and unremarkable and the biggest streams he did were house fIipper and the shuffle stream. not very remarkable for a sendoff, but it was a sendoff nonetheless.

Iudwig hires jrma to be part of offbrand. he says it's the coolest thing about working there. jrma has always said he's wanted to retire in production and creative direction. it seems like an eventual happy ending for the time being.

Iudwig is extremely volatile, bitter, mean, standoffish, jealous, and snippy during house fIipper 1. he softens only when he gets to talk to j, who showers him in endless praise in turn. it's a fairly normal dynamic for them with lud just being especially pissy when jrma divides his time simply due to the nature of the game.

jrma and Iudwig are close enough over the summer where Iudwig races ahead of the group in qt's twitchcon vlog to hug jrma when they meet up for dinner, borrows jrma's con pass to give to qt when she loses hers, and offers jrma's setup to spu/uky to use at his leisure. things are going remarkably well.

2023 is sparse for collabs and the next biggest stream we get between them is the shuffle stream, where jrma puts on his typical self-fellating charade with costume changes and an elaborate performance and he and lud gaybait and play around with each other for hours. lud beams and glows and he and j are ecstatic just to be in close proximity to one another, touching each other whenever they can. they seem to adore each other.

the next stream we get is house fIipper 2. lud is noticeably weird and overly sentimental, full of stilted, out-of-character praise, petting jrma whenever he can and cooing at him, telling him how good he looks. it's rife with tension and it's easy to tell that something is amiss just from Iudwig's attitude.

next we have the offbrand christmas party that qt was forcibly absent from. she asked when it was, Iudwig said they weren't having one. she bugs him and bugs him and he dismisses her at every turn. he lies and says he's just gonna go out for the night and qt finds out that he was at the offbrand party via shakedrizzIe posting about it on instagram. she has a breakdown about it on stream and lud offers no real excuses, avoiding the subject instead. jrma was present. qt was not. on purpose. for reasons unknown.

this coincides with a very steady and rapid decline of streaming numbers. twitch is falling apart and youtube isn't fairing much better. especially when you've been maligned as a react andy and the public has turned against your bread and butter.

almost immediately after this party, dodgeball takes place and lud is mysteriously absent from all credits despite this being an offbrand project. st4nz is less than friendly towards him. afterwards, lud sharply and shortly mentions on stream that he had nothing to do with the production of the project at all.

sure enough, his name is largely removed from the company website and references to him being the founder and owner.

after this, lud lashes out at a small streamer who remarks that she's only familiar with him because of dollhouse and he has a mental breakdown rife with bitterness and indignation, wondering furiously if he's only ever going to be known for that stream, if that's all he'll ever be.

he and jrma are not seated together at the 2024 awards. jrma gets a vague passing mention in the offbrand ad that plays a few times and one more mention during a clip comp. that's all, compared to last year's insane tribute montage narrated by lud, the two of them sitting together, tweets, etc etc. he is also mysteriously absent from the name your pr1ce photoset posted by austin and will despite being a highly anticipated guest at the con show.

very odd timeline with a very sudden turn of events. it makes you think. it also makes one consider how Iudwig, in all his former trauma kid and personality disorder glory, links money to affection and affection to money. his love language is buying gifts. his love language is being gifted to, being showered with riches and glory, and i believe that something like that being revoked from him is akin to outright abandonment. abandonment is a terminal disease and one that becomes necrotized over time and rots from within and Iudwig is a devastating victim to it. his daddy dies and leaves him for dead to fend for himself and then, decades later, his second daddy dies and leaves him for dead to fend for himself once again.

i believe that once he realized that jrma was not going to be able to singlehandedly finance their fake fucking company where they scribble in lisa frank coloring books all day and poke st4nz with a cattle prod for fun, lud assumed he was in yet another state of abandonment and this didn't truly hit until lud either came to terms with this suddenly or he discussed it with jrma during the christmas party. jrma cannot keep offbrand afloat, he can't keep Iudwig afloat. by being unable to keep Iudwig afloat, he is no longer loyal. he no longer adores him. he is no longer Iudwig's teacher/mentor/father/crush and he is instead a selfish, unloving predator looking to take advantage of Iudwig and offer nothing in return—the offer that was always meant to be given was his body and his money and his time and his work.

because Iudwig is an insane person, i believe he took this as a personal jab and thinks that this was a long con in order to undermine Iudwig and the plan that he had for them to retire together. after everything that Iudwig has done for him and offered him, it's thrown back in lud's face. dollhouse was a scheme. replacement was a scheme. bro v bro was a scheme. everything that jrma has done is for the sake of entrapping Iudwig, making him soft and pliable, working his way into lud's heart in ways that no other person has managed to do before. and that's terrifying to Iudwig. compliments mean nothing to him, except when they come from jrma. it makes his chest feel warm. jrma gives and jrma takes and this time he took too much. and it hurts.

#long post #im on sleeping meds and this might not be coherent at all #but this might be the actual answer #and i believe lud has managed to get ppl to turn against jrma #really odd. really strange. really fascinating.#bunnyvommit

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somanyratsinthewalls · 21 days

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Burning Hearts Chapter 17

Pairing: Law x Straw Hat Zoan Type (named) OC

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

****MINORS DNI***

Taglist: @zoros-fourth-sword @cottoncandyloverrrr @nothing-but-brass @airwolf92

Burning Hearts Chapter 17: Happy Birthday

— —

Fall had arrived on the island and the air temperature wasn’t the only thing that had turned colder. As the leaves on the trees turned from green to a burnt orange, Law had turned distant not just from you but from the rest of his crew as well. You knew there would be a shift in your dynamic after you lost control and took a chunk out of his arm, but holding a grudge against you didn’t seem like Law’s style… and it wouldn’t explain his indifference towards the other crew members.

You had a nightmare a few nights ago and found yourself knocking on Law’s bedroom door, looking for comfort in your restless state but you were met with nothing. Another day, you had attempted to drop off breakfast in his office but you were told to “leave it outside” and he would “get to it eventually.” Hours later you walk down the hallway to find it untouched and each delicious morsel you prepared was undisturbed.

“Hey Bepo,” You ask with a mouth full of peanut butter on a piece of bread from a loaf you freshly baked the day before. “Why is tomorrow’s date on the calendar crossed out all weird?” You point at the calendar on the fridge and tap it with a long fingernail.

“Oh… well… it doesn’t matter…” Bepo says nervously from the doorframe in the kitchen, twiddling his large clawed thumbs.

You choke down your breakfast and cock your head.

“Okay you’re being weird about it and you suck at lying so give it up, big guy.”

Bepo sighs.

“That’s the captain’s birthday.” He says finally while staring at the floor.

“Okay…? That doesn’t explain why it’s blacked out.”

“Well, he hates his birthday. Insists we ignore it, actually.”

“Why?” You inquire.

“He’s always hated it. We never really asked why. We got him a cake one year and he yelled at us before spending the rest of the week alone in his room. We just figured out that it’s best we leave it alone. That’s probably why he’s been weird lately… he knows it's coming up…” Bepo looked distraught.

“Hating a day of the year seems silly… but I guess so do most of the things he does…” You wash and dry your hands and head past Bepo to return to your room. “Thanks for the info.”

— —

“Hmmm… okay steam for fifteen minutes…” You slide your pointer finger down the hand written rice ball recipe to make sure you were getting the correct timings and measurements.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” A voice calls from the doorway and you turn around to see Shachi coming in to the kitchen, obviously following his nose.

“Rice balls. They’re not done yet and they’re not for you, so hands off!” You call as you throw the dish towel over your shoulder and fix your apron straps.

“Oh the captain’s favorite huh? Somebody must be trying to-“ Shachi’s sharp-toothed smile fades once he sees the calendar on the fridge behind you. “Wait… what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? Making the birthday boy his favorite dinner, idiot.” You return to the stove.

“I’M the idiot? Are you insane? He’s gonna freak out if you even MENTION his birthday, let alone make him dinner! Do you have a fucking death wish?” Shachi rushes over to you and tries to squeeze behind you to turn the stove off. You swat his hand away from the knob.

“Will you cool it? Let me do this. If he gets mad at anyone, let him get mad at me. Now get out before you’re an accomplice.” You slap Shachi on the back and push him out of the kitchen.

You spend another hour in the kitchen diligently molding rice balls into perfect little triangles and arranging them onto the plate in a neat little tower. You smile at your handiwork, but you were still a little apprehensive of how your birthday stunt was going to go over with the grumpy doctor. You grab a piece of paper from the pad next to the fridge and a pen and scribble out a makeshift sign to put next to the meal saying “DO NOT EAT” with an angry face.

You head to Ikkaku’s room and knock on the door.

“Come in!”

You push the door open and smile at your friend, immediately heading to her closet.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, my lady?” Ikkaku says sarcastically as she watches you start going through her rack of clothing.

“Do you still have that black dress? The wrapped one? Kind of a slutty little hemline?”

“I do, it’s collecting dust in there in the back. And why do we need to get dressed up on a Tuesday evening at home?”

“I have a plan.” You smirk as you retrieve the dress from the back of Ikkaku’s closet.

“Wait… it’s not… is it? Oh my god, Daisy this is a bad idea. You are severely underestimating how much that man hates his birthday. Haven’t you seen the way he’s been moping around the place lately? You cannot do this!” Ikkaku shouts at you from her position laying on her bed.

“I think you’re severely underestimating how much that man likes rice balls and boobs. Men are simple… even the crazy ones.” You wink as you flit back to your room, dress in hand.

— —

You look at yourself in the mirror before you head out to bring your plan to fruition. Ikkaku’s black dress was wrapped tightly around your figure, tied in one bow at the waist holding it all together. The neckline dipped low on your chest and the thigh high hemline made your legs look much longer than normal. You had unbraided your long hair, leaving it in soft waves cascading down your back and shoulders.

“If this doesn’t work, nothing will.” You say to yourself ask you reach the kitchen and pick up the plate of rice balls you had made earlier. Approaching Law’s door, you swallowed harshly and straightened your dress before knocking.

*knock knock knock knock*

“Working.” You hear from the other side of the steel door. You sigh and turn the handle anyway.

“Hey hey!” You say cheerily as you peek your head through a crack in the door.

“Daisy. Do you need something? Are you hurt?” Law looks up from the mountain of papers on his desk. He meets your eyes. His pale grey eyes were winked in and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“No no I’m fine! I just though I’d bring you your favorite dinner!” You step fully into Law’s office and present the plate of rice balls with a smile.

“Oh. I see. Thank you.”

You walk towards Law’s desk and place the plate down.

“I thought you could use a nice meal, it being a special day and all…” You let your voice trail off as you sit down carefully in the leather armchair directly across from him.

“What did you say?” Law furrows his brow.

“I know you hate your birthday, Law, but you have to learn to let people do nice things for you.”

“Who asked you to do this? Who told you today was my birthday?” Law raises his voice and you can see the anger in his face. “I don’t want fucking shit done for my birthday, and it’s clear you knew that and made a big deal out of it anyway!”

You maintain your composure.

“A plate of rice balls isn’t exactly making a big deal about it, Law.” You roll your eyes. “You’re so afraid of people being nice to you that you scream at them for making you dinner on your birthday. Your crew loves you, they care about you. You make sure they’re safe and happy every other day of the year, why can’t you let them treat you for one day?”

“I… I can’t.” Law looks down at his hands on the desk.

“Why? Is it so hard to believe people care about you?” You ask.

“I just can’t!” Law slams his fists down on the desk. You jump a bit, but remain steadfast.

“Fine, if you can’t accept that your crew cares, what about me then?” You say as you rise from the chair and walk towards the side of Law’s desk, getting closer to him.

“W-what do you mean?” Law looks at you from his seated position behind the desk.

“Maybe I can show you how much I care…” You reach to your side and untie the bow holding the dress together. You unreel the dress from your body, slowly revealing a black lace bra, matching panties and a garter belt you had picked up sneakily last time you went clothes shopping in town.

“D-Daisy-“ Law stutters as his eyes widen in shock at your nearly naked form leaning against his desk.

You move towards him and swing your leg over his lap to straddle him before he had a chance to protest.

“You’ll let me show you, yeah?” You cup his face in both hands to make him look up at you, his goatee tickling your palms. The look in Law’s eyes had changed from anger to vulnerability.

“Yes…” He pants up at you.

You respond by slamming your lips onto his in a passionate kiss. Law grunts in response before grabbing your torso with cold hands, making you shudder. You snake one of your hands to the back of his neck and the other wrapped itself in his hair, lightly pulling on the black strands. Law hums in appreciation of your boldness and slides his hands down to cup your exposed ass.

After a few more minutes of making out, Law starts grinding your hips onto his in a desperate attempt to feel more of you. He pulls away from your lips, a messy string of saliva still connecting the two of you when he speaks.

“I-is it getting hot in here?” He asks shakily.

“I don’t know, just take me to bed.” You say as you place more kisses along his chiseled jaw.

“Room…”

And in flash off blue light, you and Law were locked in a frenzied kiss again, but this time you were on top of him in his bed. Law leans up and rips his shirt off his head, knocking his hat to the floor in the process. He leans into you and starts mouthing wet kisses into the base of your neck.

“Off… Please…” Law gasps against your neck as his hands fumble with the clasp of your bra behind your back.

“Let me help.” You giggle and reach around behind you and undo the clasp yourself, your breasts spilling out into Law’s face as you toss your bra to his bedroom floor. Law was completely frozen with his hands on your lower back as he gazed at your naked tits. “You can touch them you know, you don’t have to just look…”

Law is shaken out of his daze and raises his hands to gingerly grope at your boobs, squeezing and pinching at the soft flesh.

“C-can I kiss them?” Law whispers and looks up at you sitting on his lap.

“Mmhmm…” You coo as you stroke his face with one hand. You gently draw his face into your left breast and he latches onto your nipple hungrily. He groans and you sigh and throw you head back at the feeling of his lips wrapped around your sensitive bud.

Law pulls back from sucking your tit and uses both of his chilly hands to squeeze your breasts together and let the flesh jiggle in his hands.

“You’re so fucking perfect…” Law sighs out as he is mesmerized by your breasts, cherry pink nipples erect and begging for him to bite and tease them.

“Law… Please… Need you…” You grind your hips down hard onto his denim clad bulge, desperate for more stimulation.

Suddenly, you’re flipped over onto your back and Law is hovering over you.

“I need you too…” Law says to you frantically as he captures your lips in a heated kiss again. He leaves your lips to trail sloppy kisses down your neck to reach your chest again. He laves his tongue over your nipple and you mewl out as his hands caress your naked sides.

You feel beads of sweat forming on your forehead and between your breasts.

“Maybe it is hot in here…” You pant out.

“Gotta get you out of these…” Law grunts as he rips your black panties and garters off your body, not caring about how many berries you spent on them, he was too desperate to have you naked in his bed. Once you were bare, he leaned back down to kiss and bite at your lower stomach.

“Shit… Law…” You whimper out as he gets closer to where you’ve really been craving him.

*WHAM*

The metal door to the office is slammed open.

“CAPTAIN THE BOILER’S BROKEN AGAIN!!!”

“Shit! Room!”

You had no idea what happened. You had heard the door open and Bepo’s voice from the adjoining office… and now you were fully nude and fully aroused alone in your own bed in your own room.

— —

“What the fuck is the problem?” Law shouts as he springs from his bed.

“Captain! Thank god you’re up! I see you noticed how hot it is, too!” Bepo looks Law up and down.

“What the hell are you talking about?” “Well the boiler’s on the fritz again and the place is heating up like crazy. I thought you noticed… your shirt and hat are off and you’re all red…”

“Oh.. well yeah I guess it is hot in here…” Law looks down at his bare, flushed chest. “What are you waiting for then? Let me get dressed and we’ll fix it.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Bepo turns to retreat to the boiler room.

“And Bepo?”

“Yes, Captain?” Bepo cranes his neck to look at Law.

“Please be sure to knock. Even in emergencies.”

*A/N sorry these are taking forever to write! grad school is back in session so I've been crazy busy! But thank you to those who are still interested and keep coming back! Thanks and love ya :)*

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #one piece smut #law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar one piece #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law #one piece law #law one piece #law x y/n

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that-ari-blogger · 23 days

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Spiraling Upwards (The Price Of Power)

Repetition is the bread and butter of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. The series is about cycles of abuse and trauma, and the tragedy inherent in that. It's about breaking out of those rythms, and to do that, it needs to establish what is holding its characters back.

But, showing the same thing over and over again is boring. It's stale, and overplayed, and stale, and overplayed, and stale. See what I mean?

Season three of the series shakes things up. It is a masterclass in twisting a formula to its breaking point, and that starts with The Price Of Power.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (She Ra and the Princesses of Power)

The title of this episode has so many meanings that it's impressive. The price of power is what it says on the tin, but it could relate to almost any character in this.

Shadow Weaver finally has her villainy catching up to her (side note, the animation of SW's magic side effect, which I will be referring to as "death juice", is stellar), and it is sapping her life. Catra is realising that her security wasn't as solid as she thought. Adora is making a Faustian bargain with her abuser. Even Angella is weighing up decisions about her family and her kingdom.

Angella's compete lack of willingness to let Adora near the source of her trauma sets her up as an actual maternal figure for Adora, rather than the simple source of authority that she has been up until this point. Remember this, it will come up later on in the season.

That reframes the conflict between Angella and Shadow Weaver's conflict, turning it into mother vs mother, and their ideologies come into conflict. Altruism vs selfishness. And, with that in mind, I'd like to do a shot breakdown of that scene.

The principle I will be using here is screen presence. Typically (I am using the word "typically" here because this isn't a rule, its a generalisation. There are exceptions), the person who takes up the most of the screen has the most control in the scene. This stems from a few places, but mostly it's just that humans are hardwired to associate "big" with "powerful", so the person who is the largest in your perspective has the most power.

Stable, wide shot. Nothing is really happening yet, Shadow Weaver is learning her surroundings and how trapped she is. She is small, and crouched, and boxed in by that barrier and forcefield. Simple stuff.

This shot is diagonal, bending backwards so that the audience can look over Shadow Weaver's shoulder at Angella. The two are roughly equal in screen presence, so the angle sells the power dynamic, mostly. It is a bit up in the air at this point, the audience isn't sure which way this interaction will go.

"This is a prison?" "Why does everyone keep...? Of course this is a prison."

Look who's the largest now. Shadow Weaver looks down on Angella, as she finds a crack in her psyche, and the queen reacts predictably. Now Shadow Weaver has a weakness she can exploit, and she takes control.

We are closer to Shadow Weaver than either Angella or Castaspella, reflecting the immediate change in dynamic. Now Angella and her sister-in-law vie with each other for control, disorganised against a monolithic force.

These two are powerless against her. She frames them in the smallest possible space, her very presence confining them and removing their agency.

This should be Castaspella taking control. She accuses Shadow Weaver of something concrete, but Shadow Weaver takes that away. The camera draws in, removing Castaspella from the frame, literally siphoning off her control of the scene.

This scene wasn't the point of this post, but I felt it needed a little more time, as it shows just who Shadow Weaver is. She is a parasite, who feeds on other people's trauma and wounds. She leads with the fact that she has hurt this woman's daughter, then plays on her deceased brother, then turns that same blade into Castaspella.

It is also worth noting that this is Shadow Weaver at her worst. She has been given a chance to try something new, to gain empathy and healing from people who would probably give it to her if she was honest with them. But Shadow Weaver is two things: cruel, and ambitious. She is awful to the people she needs, in order to get to the person she wants.

That person is Adora, of course. This season shakes things up by changing the trajectory of the arcs. Instead of Catra falling further and further, with Adora managing to climb out of her own trauma, it's the reverse. At least until the end.

So, Adora begins in a good place, and Catra begins at rock bottom. Adora has a support network, and feels in control of her own life, but Catra wakes up in a jail cell, reliving her recent punishment at the hands of Hordack.

This is also the season in which ideologies get challenged most overtly. Starting with Glimmer and Bow.

Bow believes that good people do good things and bad people do bad things. Which is a neat sentiment and I kind of agree. The problem, is that he has associated "bad people" with "the horde", and has rationalised Adora as different because of She-Ra. To his credit, when he is confronted about this, he rethinks things. Bow is a simple character, and he needs to be to contrast with the rest of the cast.

Glimmer has that black and pink morality that I mentioned in my post on Rolling With It. She believes in a very distinct idea of good and evil that doesn't really match up with the rest of the series. She skirts the edge of being an anti-hero at times, which is a phenomenal choice for a story about war. Most obviously:

"Listen up, lady. After all your kidnapping and mind-wiping, I am just looking for a reason to serve up a little payback. So, if you do anything to hurt Adora..."

So, at this point, Glimmer thinks Shadow Weaver is working for the Horde, which would make her a prisoner of war. I'll let you decide what this means.

Adora believes in redemption, and this is where things get funky, because Adora has done the same thing as her friends. She has associated morality with allegiance, and this is a false positive, mostly.

I want to stress that the Horde destroys environments, levels settlements, and definitely kills civilians off camera, amongst other things. I am adamantly not trying to both-sides this conflict and I don't want any of that nonsense in the replies to my posts. What I am saying is that switching sides without changing behaviours doesn't immediately make someone a good person.

Shadow Weaver switches sides to the princess allegiance, but then routinely pressures the protagonists to corrupt themselves and actively get themselves killed. Shadow Weaver does not get redeemed, she gets a sea change.

It is also notable off hand that Adora thinks she has switched side, therefore her own redemption is finished and she has fully healed. But Shadow Weaver still moves her like a puppet on a string.

That is core to Adora's arc in this season and the series, the idea of personal agency vs the influence of others. Adora received a similar change in circumstances when she discovered she was She-Ra, so she thinks that Shadow Weaver will change as well.

What Adora is missing is the balance. Yes, her circumstances helped her, but she made a choice to be better. She was given the information about the Horde's evil, and made an informed decision to become a hero. Later on in the series, this will come up again with the Old Ones and their weapon, and again, Adora will make a decision to do what is right, not what her side thinks.

This is, however, more complicated, because the question of redemption is more complicated than a Tumblr post can properly address. I can try, but I recommend literally any philosopher ever to philosophise. So here goes my attempt.

Anyone can be redeemed, but "can" is the operative word there, not "will". Redemption is an informed choice to be better, and in my most humble of opinion, the truly evil people are the ones who refuse it. I think that She-Ra as a whole agrees with this premise.

This episode sets up a ton of thematic ideas in direct opposition to each other, telegraphing to the audience that the season will go into these in detail, but also that the season will be about dissecting preconceptions.

Most notably, the third season of She-Ra will discuss Adora's idea of redemption becoming more nuanced, as Shadow Weaver actively disproves her premise, and she has to rethink things.

Which brings me to Catra, who is on the receiving end of all of these themes in quick succession throughout the season. For the moment, however, she is confronted with two. Connection, and preconception. Catra wakes up from a nightmare, in a cell. She believes that having friends will only cause her irreparable pain, and as a person who craves safety and emotional security, that isn't a risk worth taking.

Then Scorpia and Entrapta actively try to rescue her from death and succeed. It is imperative to understand that this catches Catra by surprise. She is used to that conditional acceptance that was Shadow Weaver's style, and has internalised Adora's departure to match those behaviours. Hordack hasn't helped.

But here she is, at her lowest so far, and Scorpia and Entrapta stick their necks out for her, and it pays off. This is the power of friendship crystalised in its most pure and realistic form.

Season three centres around Catra almost achieving her own healing, and she does it on her own terms, accompanied by Scorpia, the embodiment of unconditional kindness. In essence, her spiral downwards has been reversed.

Redemption is weaved throughout Catra's entire journey, and while it isn't explicit in this episode, it is still an important element to bring up, because Catra is an explicit link to Shadow Weaver here, as well as Adora.

Shadow Weaver is given the chance for redemption, and intentionally refuses it. Catra is being given a similar opportunity to get away from the place that is directly causing her villainy, and improves, mostly.

It doesn't succeed, though, does it? Neither spiral completes. Catra almost heals, but comes crashing down, and Adora nearly succumbs to nihilism, but manages to claw her way out at the last moment. They try to break the mould and fail, but they rupture the neatness of this tragedy in the act, and if it can be torn, it can be broken.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Ok, here we go. Season three is my favourite season of She-Ra, so this is going to be a fun set of posts to make, because I have a lot of things to say.

This season fully eschews simplicity and revolves around having as many moving parts as possible. Everyone gets an arc, everyone gets a different thing that they are dealing with. Some stories don't even collide directly, but have massive impacts on each other.

This season shows that the story can be subverted while characters try and fail to do so. It's possible, but they can't do it without each other.

There's a storm coming, there's nuance in the air, and the winds are starting to change.

Next week, I will be looking at Huntara. The episode, not the person. I mean, kind of the person, but in an analytical sense. That got weird. Stick around for more analysis of this series if that interests you.

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