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babytaes · 3 years

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†hê Ðêmðñ (the beauty of sin)

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You're a guardian angel who's never been tasked with protecting anyone. Since you've been here since Creation, sitting around in heaven hasn't brought you any rewards. You were looking forward to the day when you'd be assigned a human to look after. When that day finally arrives, things take an unexpected turn when you are assigned to Heeseung, a demon from the underworld.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: heeseung x female reader

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst, suggestive/smut

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: profanity, smut scenes, bad boy heeseung (lol),

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

Sin is a spiritual virus that invades the whole being. It makes you morally and spiritually weak. It’s a deadly disease that infects every part of you: your body, your mind, your emotions, and your motives—absolutely everything. Nobody has the strength on their own to overcome its power.

Nobody should ever commit sin, never giving in to their worldly and sinful impulses. It's unjust and wrong. However, what is it about sin that makes it so fascinating and enjoyable?

It gave you joy to see it in his smile or the way his hands caressed your body. What a lovely thing sin is!

Even though some sins are innocent and enjoyable, sometimes regulations are supposed to be broken. Everyone, after all, is a sinner.

“WHAT!?,?” You began to sweat as you worriedly communicated your concerns to your overseer, “You must be mistaken, High Lord.”

“I understand the protocol; angels are supposed to serve as "guardian angels" to beautiful or broken souls on Earth. You know we're expected to look after them and keep an eye on them to make sure they stay on track. With all due respect, ma'am, I don't believe I'm qualified for this position; at the very least, someone of level 10 would be ideal.”

Her cream-colored wings swept her off her feet as she chuckled and waved for you to follow her. You sighed as you flutter up and away with her, trailing behind her, feeling a twitch in yours.

As you eventually caught up to her, dodging angels left and right, you apologized to random angels in your path, uncomfortably smiled at the people you bumped into with your wings.

You retracted your wings closer to you and walked uneasily beside your overseer as you carefully stepped down on the golden road.

Before you could say anything, she quietly took your hand in hers and gently kissed it, assuring you that everything would be alright. As you approached the center of the commotion, you bit your lower lip and remained silent.

Looking around at the community, it warmed your heart to see so many people, young and old, out here. Some you've known since the beginning of time, while others were born only last week. Everyone had gathered to witness the masterpiece that would emerge in an instant.

“You know Y/N I have complete faith in you that this first expedition will be a breeze,” you smiled, looking up at her with excitement and a tinge of fear in your eyes. “We wouldn't have suggested you for the job unless we knew who you really are, and you've earned it.” Don't worry, you were expecting this; now have a look.”

With her finger pointing to the stage forward, you were treated to yet another spectacular show. They're known as the "Grand Turning" in Heaven. This is where a new or seasoned angel has completed his or her training with a human or demon and earned their proper place in the community.

It could be a badge, a ribbon, or something more unique, such as the opportunity to talk with the all-powerful, our God.

Despite the fact that you were assigned to him, you were determined to get those jobs because they were the only way for you to ever get that honor. You weren't going to allow Mr. Unperfect take away that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Nobody could and will ever be able to make you fail this assignment; you were meticulously prepped. You were taught the correct and only way to do things, and now was your opportunity to shine. You were not going to be a Lucifer, cast from Heaven

“I'll do it,” you said to your supervisor, a smile on your face and confidence in your eyes. She turned to face you and hugged you passionately, rubbing your wings with a motherly devotion.

“I knew you could do it; now it's time to get you ready.”

---

When people have a near-death experience, they always remark that life flashes before their eyes. Unfortunately for angels, it's the contrary; when we're approached with a high-alert danger or warning, it's more of a gentle whisper in our ears. Normally more attentive while traveling to Earth.

The best place to be humans say.. What is with these fickle minded words?

You take a deep breath and turn to face your overseer, who is polishing her wings to ensure that they are kept in order. When having wings, a routine is taught from the beginning to keep them in a good up do. Nobody wants to look simple when you can look stunning.

She took your hand in hers and walked toward the end of the route, issuing some documents to the Pearl City Gate guards. You noticed the circular orb while glancing around.

"How can some humans believe in the world being flat, we literally have an air-like view. To me, it's definitely round.” She chuckled as she pinched your cheeks and turned your puzzled face to her.

“When you get down to earth, you'll see a lot of that, people with a lot of opinions. But what did you learn in your training?”

Standing up and smoothing your wings, you calmly shouted out the words as if they were written on the back of your palm.

“Although humans are the destroyers of their own precious planet, everyone's opinion matters, regardless of race, gender, or identity.”

“Well, not all,” you began scratching your head, “I've seen some harsh individuals in our study books, God should strike them down-“

“Um no ma'am, let us put it aside for the time being and focus on what needs to be done.” She started going over a list of laws and regulations for your descent to Earth. As you gave her a thumbs up, you were attentively listening and mentally bookmarking everything in their designated area.

I believe I have a good understanding of everything, and I think I am prepared.” She offered you a short hug before letting you go, showing her affection for you. You were going to miss her, despite the fact that it was a mutually-surface relationship.

“Last but not least, this ordeal will be different in that people will be able to see you. But if you have to use your wings, the lad is the only one who can see you. When you arrive, he will be waiting for you. My child, best of luck and may God bless you.”

You let go of her and moved toward the road's edge, gripping your bag as you turned to face her and waved farewell as you stepped over the brink.

“Wait a minute, what if-“

When you felt a push from behind, you tumbled off the ledge and spun around in the sky, where you saw a smiling face as you glanced up. They didn't tell you that you'd have to be pushed. As you plunged to Earth, you closed your eyes, terrified. Oh, how nice.

Screaming, you descended into the atmosphere, your narrowed eyes seeing glimpses of land here and there. Not letting up you let your wings cover your whole body as you plopped down onto soft green grass.

You peered out from your wings, gasping for air, and glanced up.

“Oh, Heavens”

His physique was slender, active, and well-groomed, with a trace of bad boy behavior in his scent. The first thing that struck your eye were the rips in his jeans. How could a man-made mistake seem to be so appealing? As you raised your eyes, you noticed tattoos splattered across his arms and up to his neck. His black velvet-like wings fluttering in the breeze, he raised his palm to his hair and stroked through the old curls, deconstructing the pattern they had once formed.

“Did you just pull a Lucifer or was this all planned?” he coughed as he put out his hand to you, taking a good look at you.

Stuttering in your words you quickly got up and patted yourself off and finally looked him in the eyes, noticing his dark eyes.

“Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, I hoped to fly down here and appear more Angel-like, but I think my overseer had other ideas.”

He said, "Ah," with a bored expression on his face.

“My name is Heeseung, and if you don't mind, I assume you don't.” I guess my name is well-known in Heaven. You're probably the fifth Angel who has appeared in the last year to “assist me.” What a load of bullshit; you can't hide what's already there, you know.”

He made a pouty look as he smirked closer to you before covering his hand with his mouth and saying, “oh forgive me, I suppose I have a potty mouth.”

Panicking at this new light, you smiled and coughed loudly and suddenly, “Before you say anything else, I'd want to inform you that I'm not like those angels we don't talk about. I have a holy standard that I adhere to.

He rushed to your face, rolling his eyes at your innocence, and murmured to you, "well see about that little Ms. Purity."

As you moved back and shook your head, spurring out prayers, you tugged the strings of your bag close to you, seeming irritated. Looking up, you noticed him hovering in mid-air with his arms crossed, waiting for you.

“Whether you're coming or not, I'm in the mood for a cup of coffee. Allow me to go fetch you one so that this whole ordeal between us may be over soon and we can both return to our respective worlds.”

You instantly snap open your wings and shot up into the sky, scoffing at his rudeness, and dash by him, racing to the left.

“It's this way, dummy,” he cackled as he immediately shot out. Embarrassed and annoyed, you flipped over to his side and flew alongside him, praying to the Lord for peace as your rage subsided.

“Lord, so help me”

---

“So, what's on the agenda, Ms. Purity? There are a lot of things I'd want to do with you. You know, if you just ditch this whole act, we might be able to have some fun. He winked at you as he sipped his drink while peering across the table.

You shook your head and chuckled, gagging at his remark, "You must get all the girls, you appear really, what's the word, competent" I'm astonished since I assumed everyone down under was inept.”

He smirked and crossed his legs as he lay startled in his chair, cocking his head to the side. It's not that you were trying to be mean; it's just what you were taught. There are no hard feelings.

“Well, as much as I'd like to keep this delightful little date going, I have a commitment to fulfill. You know, duty calls.” You quickly got up and hurried after him, confused as to where he was going, as he shot up in the air and chuckled, waving farewell to you.

“Wait, Heeseung, you can't just go away like that. We need to figure out how I'm going to find you. You're being impolite by getting up and leaving.” You made yourself look insane since you didn't realize no one could see him. You wouldn't want to be labeled as one of these Earthlings.

You beckoned him down, mentally terrified, “Please can you just come down for a damn second.” Your jaw dropped as you hurriedly covered your mouth. Heeseung's jaw dropped when he appeared in front of you, stunned.

“Gasp, I'm hearing a term I'm sure they don't say in Heaven. Hmm, I suppose the Earth changes people.” He went closer to your ear, his warm arm bouncing on your skin as he giggled, his lips inches away from yours.

“I've already entered my phone number into your phone; you do understand what a phone is, right?” Doesn't matter, I have to get somewhere, and you can locate me later. Okay, I'll see you later.” He swept up in the air and rushed over to the bridge as he vanished into the horizon, rushing out in a haste once more.

You sat back in the coffee chair, wiped your brow, and focused mentally and spiritually, pleading with the Lord for help and forgiveness. You had a feeling this mission was going to be a disaster.

Whining, you threw your hands in the air and sat face down on the table, groaning as you realized this trek. It's no surprise that these honors are well-deserved; it takes a lot of effort.

You cautiously lifted your head and faced the barista after hearing a soft tap on your table. She smiled at you as she set down a piece of paper. You scowled as you inspected the weird set of paper.

“What a jerk, he didn't just leave me to pay for both drinks.” With a shake of your head, you reached inside your bag and drew out a wallet. Your overseer informed you that many people like flaunting and spending their money, so she provided some for you just in case.

As you cleaned up, you began to mentally map out your route through town, mentally picturing the locations and navigating your way home. As you walked over to the cashier, you handed her some money and thanked her before heading out the door.

At the very least, you landed in a fantastic location. It was in the heart of South Korea, and the city was called Seoul, a wonderful metropolis to be sure. You were taught to master specific languages for specific tasks, so communicating wasn't a problem. Despite the fact that you were new in a strange place, you were determined to make the most of it. The first step was to return home and examine the situation.

How to manage Lee Heeseung.

Arriving at your small abode was an adventure in itself; it didn't take long for you to connect your GPS and get going. It was actually fairly pleasant and provided a change of scenery to enjoy. It's not quite Heaven, but it's still lovely. When you finally arrive at your destination, you look up to see a little, charming apartment in front of you.

They really went all out for you, and it's very much in your style. You'd felt right at home as soon as you stepped inside, as it was more modern and sophisticated.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, but it felt good to have your own little place to do anything you wanted. You could get used to this, no wonder why humans never leave their house. Who would want to leave when you have everything here. Food, entertainment, and a BALCONY!!

As you finished exploring the apartment and basked in its magnificence, you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the couch, sinking into its coziness as sleep took over your mind and body.

*Crunch, thud, bang*

As you lurched forward, you flew up your wings in defense mode, trying to understand what you'd heard.

“Who's there? I have a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it.”

When you hear a familiar giggle, you look up and see the attractive intruder. Walking over to you and snatching the pillow from your grasp he took your hand and pulled you over to the island where he had prepared some food.

As you took it all in, you smelt familiar scents and smiled, completely forgetting about it until you were reminded again.

“Wait, what are you doing in my apartment, and how did you get in?”

He began to remove some pots and pans from the stove while he placed some food on a platter, saying, "I have my methods."

“I'm not sure what you eat up there in Heaven, but I'm guessing it's all healthy and nutritious food.” You laughed and shook your hand in disbelief while shaking your head.

“I don’t think out of all places we would be eating so strictly. It's basically whatever you can get your hands on.. It's guaranteed to be better food than what you'll find in Hell.”

Pulling the dish away from him, you began to pick at the fries, popping one into your mouth and savoring the flavor, “not bad.”

He bowed in front of you, wiped the sweets from his brow, and returned to sit next to you, grabbing a dish and feeding himself some. As the night progressed, you told him the rundown for the next three months.

“So, despite the fact that you're definitely one of the worst jerks I've ever encountered. For this to function, we'll need to create certain ground rules.” Aiming a finger between you and him. “I'm not sure whether you've ever had to do anything for anyone else in your life, but it's all about serving people around here, and that's why I accepted this assignment. Even if you don't want to help yourself, I want to help you.”

As Heeseung shuffled around in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you, the atmosphere became tense.

“Harsh, but keep going.”

Smiling you continued as you tried to wrap your head around this complex creature.

“I understand that we are supposed to protect and guide you to do good, but it appears that we have progressed far beyond that, and we need to start at the source of your problem, which is most likely your heart or mind. What's going on in both?

As his words danced across your lips, he smirked and drew you closer to him.

“Now there's a secret.”

Smirking as your face felt warm, you cocked your head to the side and touched his shoulder before getting up and setting your dish in the sink, cleaning up as piercing eyes stabbed your back.

“I understand what you're thinking, and I've got it all under control.”

He approached you and said, "If you say so," as he put his head against your ear.

2 months later

Everything was certainly out of hand, and he was to blame. Your strategy not only failed, but it was only a matter of time until your overseer found out. And you didn’t want to end up like the last guy tossed from Heaven.

It wasn't all that bad, but who were you kidding, it was a disaster. It wasn't a major shift; rather, it was a series of modest changes. Things like accidentally cursing or hanging out with him at ungodly hours. You convinced yourself that everything was OK.

He drew you into your room and sat you down while hovering over you, gently caressing your body and kissing you.

You smiled and drew him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him down on you, closing the distance between you.

Heeseung has been on a mission to damage your "innocent demeanor" for the past two weeks. He intended to show you that it was all a charade and that no one is actually perfect. Despite not knowing what he was going to do, you were up for the challenge. That core part of you didn't take long to succumb to his immoral impulses.

What was the problem as long as you were both happy?

“Heeseung,” you say as he draws you closer to him and unclasps your bra with his free hand. As you slowly rise to assist him, you toss the material to the ground and reach for his sweatpants.

“Someone a little needy, but we are not doing that today. Today is all about pampering my lovely angel. Is it all right?”

Nodding your head, you keep an eye on him as he goes between your legs, halting at the bottom as he eyes your breast and grasps softly as your body adjusts.

“Hurry up,” you grumble as you stare at his sinister grin. As you moan, he places gentle lips along your folds, leaning down to your core. As you twitch under his touch, his finger makes a fast dive between your folds, inciting dampness.

As you whine from the pressure, your eyes flutter shut as he switches his finger out with his tongue, softly licking up your surface.

“mm, close,” you exclaim, your lips wide open as he notices your clit, tongue flicking lustfully against it. As he presses harder on your sensitive region, he laughs as you break apart under his power.

“Oh God, right there.”

“Please don't involve Him in this.” He hits a place as your high comes crashing down on you, chuckling at your reaction. Heeseung is holding you down and watching you quiver wildly as you release juice, which causes him to swallow it before wiping his mouth. As you fall onto his body, overwhelmed and still sensitive to the sensation, he pulls you up.

He lays your exhausted body next to his and wipes any excess arousal from his mouth before kissing your lips.

You both lay in a comfortable stillness for the remainder of the night, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you sign into his arms.

“Perhaps you're right; we're all just horny, messed-up creatures; I mean, even though what we're doing is completely wrong, it was fun to break the rules. My entire life has been focused on doing the right thing and being this upstanding angel. It's fun to deviate from the norm.” As Heeseung witnessed you erupt in rage, you became agitated.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, also I told you.” You both chuckled as you pushed him to the side before coming to a halt in the middle of your conversation, looking concerned at him.

“However, I leave tomorrow and I don't think I'll be ready to see you off, and this was not in my plan.”

“Shhh, I figured it out; just stick to my plan and we'll both come out on top.”

You sat closer to him, nodding your head and clasping your hand in his as you allowed sleep to take over your body.

As you may know, angels and humans have quite distinct punishments; some humans are never punished for their wrongdoings, whereas angels' actions are usually discovered one way or another.

And you were terrified that they would find out. The person who fell from the edge was not the same person who was returning back and everyone was going to know it. Just not right now, you had to maintain your composure as you approached your overseer.

As you were greeted with the overseer and some guards, you held Heeseung by his chains and whispered something into his ear.

“I see you were having a good time?” You shook your head and looked down, worried. You looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Yes, High Lord, I am aware of my error and what needs to be done in order to be purified once more. I accept complete responsibility for this assignment, but I crack him first, and we have all the secrets we need.”

As he observed you return to the opposite side with the overseer, Heeseung's gaze shifted up in fright. Fearing for his life, he flailed his wings in an attempt to flee.

“What the hell, Y/N, I thought we were on the same team.” How could you betray me in such a way?” You walked over to his trembling body and pushed him down so you were above him, laughing loudly. You patted his shoulder as you cackled.

“And they said angels could be trustworthy. I know what I'm worth, and it has nothing to do with you. Heseeung, please accept my apologies. Get him out of here.” The guards grabbed his chains and dragged him to a chamber across the room from you.

As she began to compliment you on your efforts, the supervisor wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“I'm proud of you, Y/N, even though you used some terrible techniques. I knew you'd be able to pull it off.”

You grinned joyously and thanked her for her faith in you as you looked up at her face. You cast another peek at Heeseung as she stepped forward, and he winked at you. Smirking before he disappeared into the room you chuckled at his behavior.

Everything was going swimmingly, and no one had a clue. I suppose taking over Heaven would be a simple task; if you can blow up the inside, everything will fall apart on its own.

"How could you hide this from all of us?" "Oh God, you underestimated me."

The Beauty of Sin.

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

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igotanna · 3 years

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Is this a bet??

Summary: Jinyoung takes your words seriously. And he loves proving his point. You should think twice before teasing him again.

Warnings: smut, sort of orgasm denial

Genre: fanfiction, smut

Pairing: reader x park jinyoung

Rating: 18+

A/N: pic is mine

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"Please tell me you didn't just eat that popcorn that fell into your bra..." Jinyoung sighed as he heard you munch again after a long time. He sat in his favorite armchair and didn't bother to look at you. The movie was more interesting.

"Shut up I can’t hear it now."

One would say that after three years of dating and living together, you two would stop bickering. But that was the dynamics of your relationship, and you still kinda enjoyed it this way. But sometimes he got on your nerves with his lecturing.

The movie ended and Jinyoung got up to stretch and to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

"Y'know, it was really goo-"

"It was bullshit." you cut him off.

You scrolled through your phone and didn't really pay attention to him when he came back to look at you with his 'what did you just say?' face.

"Come again?"

"I said it was bullshit. It was absolutely unrealistic during the sex scenes," you explained and sighed like him.

He frowned and sat down, now actually interested to hear your thoughts "What do you mean?"

"I mean c'mon! One could never make woman cum without touching her clit - when they were together for such a short time! You couldn't do that and we’ve known each other for quite some time now!"

You were so serious, and didn't really see the shadow of deep shock that flew over his face. He blinked a few times in disbelief. "Do you really think that?"

Putting the phone down you looked at him "Yes, it's really hard - maybe even physically impossible for a woman to cum completely without touching her clit. It's the most ac-"

"Wait," he stopped you, picking up his words and thinking your statement through "is this a bet?" His eyes pinned at your face.

You had to laugh - this was more of a "scientific" discussion for you and here he was dirty minded as usual thinking you're teasing him.

"I'm just saying,-"

"Is this a bet?" he repeated, voice lower. Now it was you blinking quickly to adjust. When he said it out loud you were even more sure - it is impossible.

"What would be the prize for the winner?" you narrowed eyes suspiciously. You knew he was able to pull your leg all the time.

"Anything." he said deadly serious.

"Anything?"

"Anything. Completely free options. If I don't make you cum without touching your clit you can make me do anything you want. One time. Make me go up on stage and do stand-up comedy, make me say something stupid in front of your mother. Whatever you say."

"And if you do make me cum?"

His expression darkened, a low-key sadistic smile flitting across his face. "Anything as well."

You laughed again, shaking your head "This is too.. too much you. I don't trust you."

"What? Whyy?" he looked at you like a surprised puppy with his big round eyes.

"Because!" you exclaimed and got up, almost shoving him off the couch. He followed you with his eyes and regained confident expression. He already knew you're in.

"Because games like these never end up in my favour!"

"Well, if it won’t end up in your favour now, I don't know when it will!" he laughed and left to take a shower. Jinyoung was well aware to give you some space to consider his proposal after presenting you a new idea or assumption.

While he was showering, you had a moment to consider your options - either way you were going to have some solid sex. And that was all you needed to head to the bathroom and lean on the shower door.

"Alright."

Jinyoung laughed and looked to where he heard your voice "So is this official?"

"Yes." you sighed, almost like he pushed you into doing it. Which he did. In his own way. "It is a bet. If you won't make me cum without touching my clit-"

"But I can be inside." he demanded

"Of course, that's not the point. Apart from touching my clit you can do whateve-"

"Careful with your words," he smirked.

"You can do almost whatever might help you make me cum." you finished strongly.

The water stopped. A muscular torso appeared next to your face and with it Jinyoung's fresh scent combined with the soap.

He looked at you, satisfaction written all over his face and dried his hair like nothing happened. Continuing to your bedroom he put the towel down and raised his voice as if he was looking for you "Are you coming?"

You walked to the room like if you were about to do a job interview, even your stomach was slightly squirming with excitement and partly with nervousness.

Jinyoung was busy adjusting the light and pulling down the curtains.

"So," his voice was low and muted, intimidating.

"I don't know what game are you playing...you simply cannot win this." you laughed and started to unbutton your shirt.

"Ah-," he stopped you before pointing at your hands – you were obviously stealing his job "Don't." his eyes found yours and he tilted his head a bit "But do repeat what you just said. C'mon."

You laughed as he got near you and slowly touched your arm with index finger sending a shiver down your spine "I said you won't make me cum."

"That's it." he whispered to himself.

You felt his body behind you, heard his breath, your hair swinging in its rhythm. By stopping you from undressing yourself he was showing you who’s in charge. You wanted to stay strong, not willing to submit to his methods you knew all too well. Something in Jinyoung’s demeanour changed, he’s going to outperform himself today you were sure of it. He's going to come up with something new, trying out stuff he always wanted to but never did. And most importantly - he’s going to take advantage of this.

His fingers moved inch by inch up to meet the inner elbow and to the hips.

"Say it again." he muttered through gritted teeth, daring you. As if searching for reasons to punish you. His warm hand roughly pushed the shirt fabric aside, forcing its way between the buttons by stealth.

"I said you can't make me cum." you said clearly, but it was undermined by the breathless gasp that escaped your mouth unwillingly. At that very moment, his hand undid the buttons and your shirt landed next to your ankles like snake's skin.

Despite the intensity he barely touched you yet.

His arm rested on your shoulder and with tips of his fingers he drew over your chest up to the collar bone. His face was so close to your ear you heard every breath and even movements of his tongue in his mouth.

The goosebumps raised across your skin excited him so much, but he kept his head clear. He knew exactly what to focus on. Having a mental list of your erogenous zones he needed to use, and saving few new ones to try out. He dug his face in your hair and kissed you below your ear. Your body reacted faster than you wanted. You crumbled into him as if he pushed some button, your knees bending a bit. But he didn't want it to be this fast.

He bit your earlobe in warning.

Surprised by his nip, your hand went up for revenge but his was quicker, smacking yours away like annoying insect.

Sliding his palms down to your panties he slowly pulled down. You felt a sudden gust of coldness as he kneeled down and your back were left unprotected. His heart started to beat faster as your panties revealed your bum. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips on your left butt cheek. It took you by surprise – he never was this gentle. Still only with the tips of his fingers on your sides, he got up. Parting your hair and putting them on one side he uncovered his most favorite part of your body – the nape of your neck.

He pushed you to the bed.

Enough of warming up.

"However bad it's going to be..." his voice was dark, wild and almost aggressive because of the long silence "Rule is- you can't touch your clit either." he said locking eyes with you.

"It's either me making you cum," he continued and leaned on his elbows above you, only inches above your face, "or nothing." you opened your mouth to kiss back, but he pulled away. Pressing lips on your neck and going down, between your breasts, your belly.

You felt yourself getting wett, heat pooling in anticipation.

The thing is - it was usually never this slow - Jinyoung was more of a rough, fierce sex type. He didn't need any time to prep and wasn't really a fan of foreplay. Lube was always there to fix everything.

But now- he was careful, sensual, paying attention to details - dancing with his fingers on the inner side of your knee. You almost forgot this place was so sensitive. He harmonized the feeling with his lips on your thigh, temptingly close to the clit.

Closing your eyes you didn't watch what he's doing - just bathed yourself in the feelings.

He was already almost rock hard, given the sight of you closing your eyes with pleasure. He had to focus on the edge of his limits. It was so tempting to imprison you in his arms, to thrust into you, deeply and fully.

But a bet is a bet, and he had his plan.

You felt like you were ready for him, so much so you unknowingly spread apart more. His hand moved your leg up to rest on his hips, facing you again. Still not opening your eyes, you turned your head a bit to make him space for more neck kisses.

As his hands pulled yours up above your head, his fingers intertwined with yours.

Jinyoung left the best for last – he finally pressed his body fully on you, and inch by inch dived in you. You heard him smirk as he found it amusing how easily he could slide in as you were already so wet and open for him.

He moved slowly. Not just because he knew it’s stimulating, but because he focused on your nipples. He knew you were sensitive, and it helped him on many occasions to make you cum. Kissing, licking and carefully biting them he took you on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your fingers found his hair and you wanted to pull it, to participate somehow. But he was the leader here and immediately put your hands back in place – above your head.

It was all so good.

His breath so close to your neck, the heat from his body. The precision he moved with, how much attention he paid to you. How he held your jaw like he needed it to breathe.

But something was missing, the tension just kept cumulating and piling up, peak nowhere in near sight. You could even feel yourself stretching your arm up, as if to grab the orgasm that was just inches away.

But apparently your other hand headed down again because Jinyoung smacked it angrily "Don't even try it." thrusting in over and over.

"Fuck the bet, I want-"

"Rules!" he hissed as his movements quickened. Placing hand on the concave of your neck and shoulders, he squeezed a bit as a warning.

You bit your lip in frustration and pleasure. He bend down and kissed your jaw, following with his mouth parting yours, being dominant even now. Leaving you only to wait for his next move. Pulse racing, he repeatedly broke the kiss to look at you, to burn this exact picture of you into his mind.

Feeling him inside, holding your hand up, your breasts on his chest... everything felt like a flash of a fire, but the flame didn't appear. You almost fell his heart beating in your own veins.

He was close, so close.

Face next to yours, his lips found the spot below your ear again, biting the earlobe.

Breathing faster you knew it was coming.

Was he right? Can he do that? C'mon just a bit more- it's so close.

But he suddenly stopped moving, head buried in your hair heavily breathing. You tried to keep up with the wave of pleasure that was inside of you, waiting to be released, you tried so hard to slide it on your own. But it was gone. He was gone, leaving you in the water searching for a way out.

As he rolled down from you letting you alone with the helplessness and frustration he propped on one hand and looked at you "You were right." he caught his breath and put away lock of hair from your neck.

"You did it on purpose! You knew I was close!" you cried out loudly, hands rubbing your face.

"Yes." he admitted, glad you revealed the truth.

Looking directly at you like a teacher wanting his answer he asked "Lesson?"

After the minute of silence you gave to spite him, you felt a quick, light smack on your thigh. "Never. Try me out again."

#jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #smut #got7 smut #ff #jinyoung smut #park jinyoung #jinyoung x reader #jinyoung x y/n #jinyoung x you

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blind-rats · 3 years

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The Rise & Fall of Joss Whedon; the Myth of the Hollywood Feminist Hero

By Kelly Faircloth

“I hate ‘feminist.’ Is this a good time to bring that up?” Joss Whedon asked. He paused knowingly, waiting for the laughs he knew would come at the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer making such a statement.

It was 2013, and Whedon was onstage at a fundraiser for Equality Now, a human rights organization dedicated to legal equality for women. Though Buffy had been off the air for more than a decade, its legacy still loomed large; Whedon was widely respected as a man with a predilection for making science fiction with strong women for protagonists. Whedon went on to outline why, precisely, he hated the term: “You can’t be born an ‘ist,’” he argued, therefore, “‘feminist’ includes the idea that believing men and women to be equal, believing all people to be people, is not a natural state, that we don’t emerge assuming that everybody in the human race is a human, that the idea of equality is just an idea that’s imposed on us.”

The speech was widely praised and helped cement his pop-cultural reputation as a feminist, in an era that was very keen on celebrity feminists. But it was also, in retrospect, perhaps the high water mark for Whedon’s ability to claim the title, and now, almost a decade later, that reputation is finally in tatters, prompting a reevaluation of not just Whedon’s work, but the narrative he sold about himself.

In July 2020, actor Ray Fisher accused Whedon of being “gross, abusive, unprofessional, and completely unacceptable” on the Justice League set when Whedon took over for Zach Synder as director to finish the project. Charisma Carpenter then described her own experiences with Whedon in a long post to Twitter, hashtagged #IStandWithRayFisher.

On Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, Carpenter played Cordelia, a popular character who morphed from snob to hero—one of those strong female characters that made Whedon’s feminist reputation—before being unceremoniously written off the show in a plot that saw her thrust into a coma after getting pregnant with a demon. For years, fans have suspected that her disappearance was related to her real-life pregnancy. In her statement, Carpenter appeared to confirm the rumors. “Joss Whedon abused his power on numerous occasions while working on the sets of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ and ‘Angel,’” she wrote, describing Fisher’s firing as the last straw that inspired her to go public.

Buffy was a landmark of late 1990s popular culture, beloved by many a burgeoning feminist, grad student, gender studies professor, and television critic for the heroine at the heart of the show, the beautiful blonde girl who balanced monster-killing with high school homework alongside ancillary characters like the shy, geeky Willow. Buffy was very nearly one of a kind, an icon of her era who spawned a generation of leather-pants-wearing urban fantasy badasses and women action heroes.

Buffy was so beloved, in fact, that she earned Whedon a similarly privileged place in fans’ hearts and a broader reputation as a man who championed empowered women characters. In the desert of late ’90s and early 2000s popular culture, Whedon was heralded as that rarest of birds—the feminist Hollywood man. For many, he was an example of what more equitable storytelling might look like, a model for how to create compelling women protagonists who were also very, very fun to watch. But Carpenter’s accusations appear to have finally imploded that particular bit of branding, revealing a different reality behind the scenes and prompting a reevaluation of the entire arc of Whedon’s career: who he was and what he was selling all along.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer premiered March 1997, midseason, on The WB, a two-year-old network targeting teens with shows like 7th Heaven. Its beginnings were not necessarily auspicious; it was a reboot of a not-particularly-blockbuster 1992 movie written by third-generation screenwriter Joss Whedon. (His grandfather wrote for The Donna Reed Show; his father wrote for Golden Girls.) The show followed the trials of a stereotypical teenage California girl who moved to a new town and a new school after her parents’ divorce—only, in a deliberate inversion of horror tropes, the entire town sat on top of the entrance to Hell and hence was overrun with demons. Buffy was a slayer, a young woman with the power and immense responsibility to fight them. After the movie turned out very differently than Whedon had originally envisioned, the show was a chance for a do-over, more of a Valley girl comedy than serious horror.

It was layered, it was campy, it was ironic and self-aware. It looked like it belonged on the WB rather than one of the bigger broadcast networks, unlike the slickly produced prestige TV that would follow a few years later. Buffy didn’t fixate on the gory glory of killing vampires—really, the monsters were metaphors for the entire experience of adolescence, in all its complicated misery. Almost immediately, a broad cross-section of viewers responded enthusiastically. Critics loved it, and it would be hugely influential on Whedon’s colleagues in television; many argue that it broke ground in terms of what you could do with a television show in terms of serialized storytelling, setting the stage for the modern TV era. Academics took it up, with the show attracting a tremendous amount of attention and discussion.

In 2002, the New York Times covered the first academic conference dedicated to the show. The organizer called Buffy “a tremendously rich text,” hence the flood of papers with titles like “Pain as Bright as Steel: The Monomyth and Light in ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer,’” which only gathered speed as the years passed. And while it was never the highest-rated show on television, it attracted an ardent core of fans.

But what stood out the most was the show’s protagonist: a young woman who stereotypically would have been a monster movie victim, with the script flipped: instead of screaming and swooning, she staked the vampires. This was deliberate, the core conceit of the concept, as Whedon said in many, many interviews. The helpless horror movie girl killed in the dark alley instead walks out victorious. He told Time in 1997 that the concept was born from the thought, “I would love to see a movie in which a blond wanders into a dark alley, takes care of herself and deploys her powers.” In Whedon’s framing, it was particularly important that it was a woman who walked out of that alley. He told another publication in 2002 that “the very first mission statement of the show” was “the joy of female power: having it, using it, sharing it.”

In 2021, when seemingly every new streaming property with a woman as its central character makes some half-baked claim to feminism, it’s easy to forget just how much Buffy stood out among its against its contemporaries. Action movies—with exceptions like Alien’s Ripley and Terminator 2's Sarah Conner—were ruled by hulking tough guys with macho swagger. When women appeared on screen opposite vampires, their primary job was to expose long, lovely, vulnerable necks. Stories and characters that bucked these larger currents inspired intense devotion, from Angela Chase of My So-Called Life to Dana Scully of The X-Files.

The broader landscape, too, was dismal. It was the conflicted era of girl power, a concept that sprang up in the wake of the successes of the second-wave feminist movement and the backlash that followed. Young women were constantly exposed to you-can-do-it messaging that juxtaposed uneasily with the reality of the world around them. This was the era of shitty, sexist jokes about every woman who came into Bill Clinton’s orbit and the leering response to the arrival of Britney Spears; Rush Limbaugh was a fairly mainstream figure.

At one point, Buffy competed against Ally McBeal, a show that dedicated an entire episode to a dancing computer-generated baby following around its lawyer main character, her biological clock made zanily literal. Consider this line from a New York Times review of the Buffy’s 1997 premiere: “Given to hot pants and boots that should guarantee the close attention of Humbert Humberts all over America, Buffy is just your average teen-ager, poutily obsessed with clothes and boys.”

Against that background, Buffy was a landmark. Besides the simple fact of its woman protagonist, there were unique plots, like the coming-out story for her friend Willow. An ambivalent 1999 piece in Bitch magazine, even as it explored the show’s tank-top heavy marketing, ultimately concluded, “In the end, it’s precisely this contextual conflict that sets Buffy apart from the rest and makes her an appealing icon. Frustrating as her contradictions may be, annoying as her babe quotient may be, Buffy still offers up a prime-time heroine like no other.”

A 2016 Atlantic piece, adapted from a book excerpt, makes the case that Buffy is perhaps best understood as an icon of third-wave feminism: “In its examination of individual and collective empowerment, its ambiguous politics of racial representation and its willing embrace of contradiction, Buffy is a quintessentially third-wave cultural production.” The show was vested with all the era’s longing for something better than what was available, something different, a champion for a conflicted “post-feminist” era—even if she was an imperfect or somewhat incongruous vessel. It wasn’t just Sunnydale that needed a chosen Slayer, it was an entire generation of women. That fact became intricately intertwined with Whedon himself.

Seemingly every interview involved a discussion of his fondness for stories about strong women. “I’ve always found strong women interesting, because they are not overly represented in the cinema,” he told New York for a 1997 piece that notes he studied both film and “gender and feminist issues” at Wesleyan; “I seem to be the guy for strong action women,’’ he told the New York Times in 1997 with an aw-shucks sort of shrug. ‘’A lot of writers are just terrible when it comes to writing female characters. They forget that they are people.’’ He often cited the influence of his strong, “hardcore feminist” mother, and even suggested that his protagonists served feminist ends in and of themselves: “If I can make teenage boys comfortable with a girl who takes charge of a situation without their knowing that’s what’s happening, it’s better than sitting down and selling them on feminism,” he told Time in 1997.

When he was honored by the organization Equality Now in 2006 for his “outstanding contribution to equality in film and television,” Whedon made his speech an extended riff on the fact that people just kept asking him about it, concluding with the ultimate answer: “Because you’re still asking me that question.” He presented strong women as a simple no-brainer, and he was seemingly always happy to say so, at a time when the entertainment business still seemed ruled by unapologetic misogynists. The internet of the mid-2010s only intensified Whedon’s anointment as a prototypical Hollywood ally, with reporters asking him things like how men could best support the feminist movement.

Whedon’s response: “A guy who goes around saying ‘I’m a feminist’ usually has an agenda that is not feminist. A guy who behaves like one, who actually becomes involved in the movement, generally speaking, you can trust that. And it doesn’t just apply to the action that is activist. It applies to the way they treat the women they work with and they live with and they see on the street.” This remark takes on a great deal of irony in light of Carpenter’s statement.

In recent years, Whedon’s reputation as an ally began to wane. Partly, it was because of the work itself, which revealed more and more cracks as Buffy receded in the rearview mirror. Maybe it all started to sour with Dollhouse, a TV show that imagined Eliza Dushku as a young woman rented out to the rich and powerful, her mind wiped after every assignment, a concept that sat poorly with fans. (Though Whedon, while he was publicly unhappy with how the show had turned out after much push-and-pull with the corporate bosses at Fox, still argued the conceit was “the most pure feminist and empowering statement I’d ever made—somebody building themselves from nothing,” in a 2012 interview with Wired.)

After years of loud disappointment with the TV bosses at Fox on Firefly and Dollhouse, Whedon moved into big-budget Hollywood blockbusters. He helped birth the Marvel-dominated era of movies with his work as director of The Avengers. But his second Avengers movie, Age of Ultron, was heavily criticized for a moment in which Black Widow laid out her personal reproductive history for the Hulk, suggesting her sterilization somehow made her a “monster.” In June 2017, his un-filmed script for a Wonder Woman adaptation leaked, to widespread mockery. The script’s introduction of Diana was almost leering: “To say she is beautiful is almost to miss the point. She is elemental, as natural and wild as the luminous flora surrounding. Her dark hair waterfalls to her shoulders in soft arcs and curls. Her body is curvaceous, but taut as a drawn bow.”

But Whedon’s real fall from grace began in 2017, right before MeToo spurred a cultural reckoning. His ex-wife, Kai Cole, published a piece in The Wrap accusing him of cheating off and on throughout their relationship and calling him a hypocrite:

“Despite understanding, on some level, that what he was doing was wrong, he never conceded the hypocrisy of being out in the world preaching feminist ideals, while at the same time, taking away my right to make choices for my life and my body based on the truth. He deceived me for 15 years, so he could have everything he wanted. I believed, everyone believed, that he was one of the good guys, committed to fighting for women’s rights, committed to our marriage, and to the women he worked with. But I now see how he used his relationship with me as a shield, both during and after our marriage, so no one would question his relationships with other women or scrutinize his writing as anything other than feminist.”

But his reputation was just too strong; the accusation that he didn’t practice what he preached didn’t quite stick. A spokesperson for Whedon told the Wrap: “While this account includes inaccuracies and misrepresentations which can be harmful to their family, Joss is not commenting, out of concern for his children and out of respect for his ex-wife. Many minimized the essay on the basis that adultery doesn’t necessarily make you a bad feminist or erase a legacy. Whedon similarly seemed to shrug off Ray Fisher’s accusations of creating a toxic workplace; instead, Warner Media fired Fisher.

But Carpenter’s statement—which struck right at the heart of his Buffy-based legacy for progressivism—may finally change things. Even at the time, the plotline in which Charisma Carpenter was written off Angel—carrying a demon child that turned her into “Evil Cordelia,” ending the season in a coma, and quite simply never reappearing—was unpopular. Asked about what had happened in a 2009 panel at DragonCon, she said that “my relationship with Joss became strained,” continuing: “We all go through our stuff in general [behind the scenes], and I was going through my stuff, and then I became pregnant. And I guess in his mind, he had a different way of seeing the season go… in the fourth season.”

“I think Joss was, honestly, mad. I think he was mad at me and I say that in a loving way, which is—it’s a very complicated dynamic working for somebody for so many years, and expectations, and also being on a show for eight years, you gotta live your life. And sometimes living your life gets in the way of maybe the creator’s vision for the future. And that becomes conflict, and that was my experience.”

In her statement on Twitter, Carpenter alleged that after Whedon was informed of her pregnancy, he called her into a closed-door meeting and “asked me if I was ‘going to keep it,’ and manipulatively weaponized my womanhood and faith against me.” She added that “he proceeded to attack my character, mock my religious beliefs, accuse me of sabotaging the show, and then unceremoniously fired me following the season once I gave birth.” Carpenter said that he called her fat while she was four months pregnant and scheduled her to work at 1 a.m. while six months pregnant after her doctor had recommended shortening her hours, a move she describes as retaliatory. What Carpenter describes, in other words, is an absolutely textbook case of pregnancy discrimination in the workplace, the type of bullshit the feminist movement exists to fight—at the hands of the man who was for years lauded as a Hollywood feminist for his work on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel.

Many of Carpenter’s colleagues from Buffy and Angel spoke out in support, including Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar. “While I am proud to have my name associated with Buffy Summers, I don’t want to be forever associated with the name Joss Whedon,” she said in a statement. Just shy of a decade after that 2013 speech, many of the cast members on the show that put him on that stage are cutting ties.

Whedon garnered a reputation as pop culture’s ultimate feminist man because Buffy did stand out so much, an oasis in a wasteland. But in 2021, the idea of a lone man being responsible for creating women’s stories—one who told the New York Times, “I seem to be the guy for strong action women”—seems like a relic. It’s depressing to consider how many years Hollywood’s first instinct for “strong action women” wasn’t a woman, and to think about what other people could have done with those resources. When Wonder Woman finally reached the screen, to great acclaim, it was with a woman as director.

Besides, Whedon didn’t make Buffy all by himself—many, many women contributed, from the actresses to the writers to the stunt workers, and his reputation grew so large it eclipsed their part in the show’s creation. Even as he preached feminism, Whedon benefitted from one of the oldest, most sexist stereotypes: the man who’s a benevolent, creative genius. And Buffy, too, overshadowed all the other contributors who redefined who could be a hero on television and in speculative fiction, from individual actors like Gillian Anderson to the determined, creative women who wrote science fiction and fantasy over the last several decades to—perhaps most of all—the fans who craved different, better stories. Buffy helped change what you could put on TV, but it didn’t create the desire to see a character like her. It was that desire, as much as Whedon himself, that gave Buffy the Vampire Slayer her power.

#Joss Whedon #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #Ray Fisher #Charisma Carpenter #Feminist

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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Dream Analysis of Mugen Ressha

Spoilers for the movie, while it does not depart from the plot of the manga, they made adaptational choices which I may refer to within.

While Enmu has control over what kind of dream his victims see, ultimately, he would have no way of knowing all of the details of his victims' lives, so we can assume that he is prompting his victims to fill in a lot of the details themselves. These are the worlds they surround themselves with consciously, but their untouchable unconscious spaces say just as much.

I've said some of this before, but these dream sequences give us so much to say about Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kyojuro, and Tanjiro.

Into the dream: Did that "Rengoku-aniki" thing really happen???? It's animated like a fever dream (or drawn like a typical Gotouge-being-Gotouge panel), but both the movie and the manga leave this inconclusive. It can be interpreted two ways: 1. The two other demons were there all along as decoys, set to appear only when Enmu's blood technique slowly started to take effect so that they'd let their guard down. In this way, we'd know that the boys had a true way of witnessing Kyojuro's prowess and a true bonding moment, thereby making his death hit all the harder later. This would also mean that one of the cars was totally unusable for passengers, and many of the passengers were already thoroughly spooked before falling into sleep. It would also imply that they were all super excited, thoroughly relieved, returned to their seats, and then just passed out.

2. The moment the tickets were clipped, Enmu's very, very, very realistic dreams took immediate effect, but he still needed time before it took effect enough that their guards would go down. If this is the case, then it implies the following: 1. Enmu's illusions can be shared 2. Everyone syncs extremely well together to have all been sucked in by the same illusion (it's possible it was only Tanjiro's, but since we get in everyone's heads a little in this part, I believe they all experienced the same thing). Reacting in ways so true to how they would in waking like, they learned as much about each other as truthfully as they would have if they were fighting while awake. 3. The "Rengoku-aniki" thing is the moment they're falling into a deeper stage of sleep, when any bizarre thing will make sense. They've lost any sense of holding back and are embracing the emotions as they hit them. Even if that was all a dream, the bond formed was very real. But then, as they fall deep, they fall into their own headspaces. Inosuke: I love how bombastic this dream is. It moves at a very fast pace, and everything revolves around Inosuke. He is physically much larger than Ponjiro, Chuuitsu, and Pyonko, who clearly follow him as their leader, the most powerful person in this cave exploring world full of wonder and excitement. True to life, these underlings can at times be frustrating or stupid, but there is no one else Inosuke would rather have at his side to take on a hugely impressive foe. It's a relatively simplistic world, what Inosuke really cares about is his place in it, and who is there.

Taking it a step deeper, he should not be able to manifest in his self-conscious space, but Gotouge attributes his and Zenitsu's ability to do this and protect their cores from intruders to their strong senses of self. What's telling is that his subconscious space is practically identical to his conscious dream space; like there is no breakage between one stage of reality and the next. In its Zen-like simplicity Inosuke's mind is never at odds with itself, its interpretation of reality is fluid and seamless. However, being at this deeper state brings us to a deeper state of self actualization, with Inosuke manifesting closer to the ideal beast he views himself as.

Now, with Inosuke being so fully invested in what he sees as reality, he's still got a carry-over effect from dream after waking up, which one could interpret as not having fully shaken the effects of Enmu's blood technique. After all, Zenitsu simply never broke out of it, Tanjiro had to kill himself in his dreams each time to fully snap out of it, and Kyojuro was the only one powerful enough to have broken through its effects through his own willpower. When Tanjiro says the train is a demon, he buzzes with "I was right!" (a conviction that only got stronger in his dream), and Inosuke's declarations of being the boss and Tanjiro being his underling are indignantly plentiful and he fully believes what he is saying every time he brings it up, even if he's aware that he's no longer in the cave exploring dream. But, given that Inosuke is so at peace with his own version of reality, it's also just as likely that his conviction of being The Boss was also only compounded by the dream, and all that dream did was give him a more fun setting in which to play around in. But, what was so fun about the dream, what made him sleep-giggle with pleasure, was that everyone else was finally getting with the program and recognizing him as the boss, as they should. Finally. It's so frustrating in real life that he has to keep reminding them to get it right. Get it, Santaro?? GOOD. Zenitsu: What I love here is the contrast between subconscious and conscious space. Both of them have the same theme melody, but played in very, very different ways. They also both play with the same core desire in very different ways as well. Is it so much to ask that he can just spend some time alone with the girl he loves?? If we jump straight to the pitch black unconscious space, he specifies to the intruder that only Nezuko is allowed there. Not just girls in general, not a close friend like Tanjiro, only the one girl he loves, and even then, you'd have to love someone a lot to invite them into the deepest, darkest corners of your soul. And it is a very, very, very, very dark corner. Zenitsu's spent most of his life building that dark, pessimistic personality, compounded by the treatment he's always received throughout his life and what he believes about himself at his core. He's ugly and depraved there, and very defensive. Because he holds himself in such darkness, that makes him desire the bright, happy, completely idealistic world of his conscious dream world. It's rich with detail and warm and he knows it well, that places is the first place he ever felt someone have hope for him; it's Jiichan's home, that sunny place with delicious peaches and full of clovers and lush greenery and a charming stream. Of course he'd want to show it all to Nezuko, she deserves to see such a happy, pretty place! And, while the world is idealized and happy, Nezuko is e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y cute and actually wants to hang out with him too. She's willing no hold his hand, none of the girls who dated (read: used) Zenitsu in the past were ever willing to hold his hand. He even gets to show her that he can be cool, and she likes it!! She looks him in the eyes and is totally honest about enjoying his company!!

He just wants someone to want him back. He wants to belong in the sunshine too. So, even if he had it in him to wake up from Enmu's blood technique, who can blame him for staying there? (You know, besides Tanjiro, who has been desperately screaming for them all to wake up and help him protect the passengers. Zzzzz, five more minutes, Tanjiro, zzzzzzz----) Kyojuro: This... isn't really a happy dream. Kyojuro has accepted a lot of sad parts of his reality so wholeheartedly that he doesn't seek the comfort of a dream in which his mother is still alive, or a dream in which his father is proud of him. Instead, what Kyojuro was looking for was the chance to go back and say more to Senjuro. This implies that on the real day he knelt in that room, while his father faced away and read the book* while Kyojuro told him all about how he defeated Lower Moon Two and became a Pillar, and was met with his father's heartbreakingly unenthusiastic reply, he later went outside and...

...didn't say any words of comfort to Senjuro.

This regret, that he didn't do more for his brother whom he knew was hurting in his own silent ways this whole time, was what sat most bothersomely in Kyojuro's otherwise peacefully self-assured psyche (or fired-up psyche, if you go by his subconscious space) . It makes sense that in his dying wishes, the first thing he requests is that Tanjiro do this in his stead. *Speaking of that book, Kyojuro had forgotten about it until his memories pulled together to create the details of the dream, which was why he thought to mention it to Tanjiro later. This shows that Enmu is not an architect of people's dreams, he only sets them in motion. How believable they are depends on each victim. (Totally unrelated, I love the design of the Rengoku estate's garden??? It's primarily evergreen and unflowering trees, meaning it stays relatively steadfast throughout the year, a garden designed in samurai villa taste. Plus the details of the house also fit really well, I think??? Would need to review research of buke-yashiki architecture to say more.) Tanjiro: ...*deep breath* This boy really, really wants to go home. Like, the climax of the movie is amazing and all, but it's the scenes with Tanjiro's family that make me cry. Ugh, where do I start. Enmu probably just grabs on to whatever thread of a desire a person has, and then he just tugs on it and says "this way, let's go really far in this direction, show me where it goes, hmm, okay, nice, lovely. Have fun here, I've now seen enough to write my own angsty version for later." So... so I'm just going to work backwards a moment. Enmu screwed up here, thinking he could really read the depth of Tanjiro's family and his feelings for them. He thought he could make a convincing version of these "characters" cry and shove Tanjiro around and speak meanly to him and make him feel shame. And the cut to that dream, OH MY GOSH, truly horrific sound and color change. But Tanjiro's sees through it so fast that he wakes up immediately and uses that anger at how Enmu wrote them to cut off his "head." You screwed up, Enmu, you blew it, maybe other people would very so blown down by the shock that they wouldn't question how unreal that dream sequence is, but Tanjiro has honed his fighting spirit so much that it's been nagging him even throughout his happy dream. And he really, really, really wants to stay in that happy dream. Like, even though he's on guard at the beginning, so much so that he only focuses on the familiar feeling of a demon being around and does not notice the familiar landscape AT ALL. But the moment Hanako and Shigeru step in, convincingly made from Tanjiro's memories and unedited by Enmu, Tanjiro throws that all away in an instant. As he says when he's trying, after trying and trying and trying to rip himself away from the dream, he was never even supposed to had left this world. He was never supposed to had touched anything like a sword, they were all supposed to stay there together, living their simple life. If things hadn't gone wrong that one night. Tanjiro cares deeply about his mission, he's adopted his training deeply, he has serious desire to improve, which is why his subconsciously keeps trying to call himself back to reality, but it's so hard, because this is where he wants to be, and it's even harder because it feels so real. It's a little peeve of mine when families with lots of little siblings are written to be too angelic and idealistic, and there is some of that with the "let's make sembei, yaaaay" scene, but... but that's actually pretty true. I'm giving myself away with how close this hits to home, but it's a dynamic in a lot of large families, especially large families pretty happy to stay to themselves and people who live the same sort of conservative, traditional lifestyle, to foster in the older siblings some pride in taking care of the little ones and helping create that happy world for them, even if taking care of little kids can be rough. It's not to say that things are always happy and fluffy, they're not, and that's not to say even

happy kids don't resent being in a large family sometimes. But there's plenty of moments in daily life, especially in the presence of small children, that you get swept up into a sillier, happy, caretaker side of yourself, and since you all grow up with these silly moments together, you're going to naturally fall into into some silly, scripted-feeling moments of "then I'll be in charge of eating the sembei!" "no faaaaair!". So, I'll give the sembei scene a pass because that IS a moment that happens in years of moments with the same posse of kiddos around you all the time. But it's also so striking to me how each of Tanjiro's siblings, however idealized, has their own personality. The traits are so subtle but consistent and Tanjiro knows all of them. They pick up on things about each other, they grow realistically annoyed and surprised and concerned and scared like they would if they were real instead of only Tanjiro's memories of them. Those kids feel so real to me, even if they are annoyingly overidealized in some parts as Tanjiro is letting himself get swept away. And just when he's managing to part from it to go face reality, Enmu makes more attack: he brings in Nezuko, trying to make it feel like there's no point in Tanjiro running at all. She's fine. There's nothing left for him to fight for. Everything's fine. And all over again, Tanjiro just stops. He KNOWS it's not real, but he's hurting so much to hear her voice again that he just sto-o-o-o-ps. And his desire to stay with the others catches up to him all over again, and he's tempted all over again to stay, EVEN KNOWING IT'S NOT REAL and there are very, very, very pressing matters to attend to. Even if it was all a little happy and idealized, more than anything, it felt like life always did. It's telling that when Tanjiro finally, FINALLY pulls away from that that time, he doesn't look back, and the family stops chasing him. This is Tanjiro accepting reality, however much it hurts. He's already had a couple years to accept this, but it was all overwhelming to get such a vivid taste of it again.

Tanjiro wants to do well to his organization and honor Urokodaki's training and avenge the fallen and prevent anyone else from being hurt and see an end to Kibutsuji Muzan and make Nezuko human again, but more than anything, he wants that simple life. And it's so, so heartwarming that at the end of the manga, he gets it.

It's not the same. It'll never be the same.

He never wanted a life with a sword, but he's been working so hard at it anyway.

#my heart is broken and it's Kamado Tanjiro's fault #KnY Fandom Theories and Meta #Mugen Ressha Hen #Kamado Tanjiro #Kamado Tanjirou #Agatsuma Zenitsu #Hashibira Inosuke #Rengoku Kyoujurou #Rengoku Kyojuro

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eveningstar1516 · 3 years

Text

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 4

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so…, Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence.

AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Previously:

Not wanting to stay in my head any longer, I drift off into a dreamless slumber awaiting the day that will ultimately decide not only my fate, but the fate of the demons I’ve grown to call, family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 4 - I want you to be the one... (1842 words)

Snapping my eyes awake I shivered against the air as a bucket of ice cold water was thrown into my face.

“Get up human!”

A guard then roughly pulled me up by the shoulder twisting my arms behind my back and locking them together while unlocking the chain on my ankle. Pushing me out of my cell and half escorting me half dragging me out of the dungeon and to where my trial was supposed to take place all before I could even register that I woke up. As we were walking toward what I assumed was the very same courtyard where we welcomed the king not 24 hours ago, I started hearing lots of yelling. Straining to hear, I realized that it was the brothers arguing amongst each other about what they should do and Diavolo attempting to calm them down, sounding conflicted himself. Upon entering the courtyard I locked eyes with the brothers as they fell silent in shock upon seeing me bound in chains as I was escorted on stage where the king was waiting with Diavolo and the brothers.

*Flashback*

After I passed out.

“Father! What did you do to them?!”

“I am humouring you my son. They are being held under the palace and I am forbidding any one of you from making contact with them.”

“My Liege, I implore you to please reconsider your judgment. They are unaware of how the politics work here and they simply misspoke. I assure you they don’t mean you any harm.” Lucifer lowered his head pleading to the king to reconsider his choice.

“Lucifer is right! They mean the world to us and they can’t possibly do anything to you or the Devildom!” Mammon joined in. The brothers then each said their piece about you.

“You all disgust me, pleading for a human's life. You are my highest ranking demons. Show some dignity!”

“With all due respect my king, that human you are referring to is the one that bettered your kingdom and has achieved far more than any human, demon, or angel could hope to accomplish in the span of just 1 year. They have brought us all together and mended ties we didn’t even know were broken. Y/N is a human I would give up my Pride for-”

“My Greed for-”

“My Envy for-”

“My Wrath for-”

“My Lust for-”

“My Gluttony for-”

“My Sloth for-”

“My title for-”

“My powers for-”

“Y/N is a one of a kind human. They have found their way into our lives and there is nothing you can do to take that away from us my Liege.”

“That was quite the speech Pride, although that doesn’t change my opinion about them. If anything, it just makes my decision all the more ironclad. But I will humour you all. Seeing as how you’re all willing to give up the very thing that makes you, you for the human, a public trial will be held. Their fate shall be decided there. Until then, I forbid any contact between them, through their pact, dreams, or any interference with the timeline. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Liege” they all responded simultaneously as the king left the room.

*Later in the east sitting room with Lucifer, Barbatos and Diavolo*

“What are we going to do Dia?” Lucifer exclaimed as he did something he has never done while sober and flopped onto a couch opposite of Diavolo as Barbatos sat into a seat in between them.

Holding his head Diavolo responded.

“I don’t know Luci. I just don’t know. As the crown prince I can’t go against my Father and as my right hand neither can you, but things are different with them involved. I just don’t know.”

Sighing, Diavolo laid down on the couch no longer giving a care about anything, just thinking about different possibilities.

“Barb-?”

“No can do my lord. The king forbade me from using my powers. Even if you were to command me, I don’t have access to them for the time being.”

“Do me a favour Barb and drop the title for now? Please? I need my friends, not my subordinates.”

“Alright, Diavolo. Let me say this then. You both know that no matter what happens tomorrow, Y/N will be banished from the Devildom. We all know that the king isn’t above making us suffer just to prove a point. How are we going to support Y/N and stop them from harming themselves should they be banished to the human realm?”

“Jeez Barb! That isn’t what we need right now! I don’t want to think about that.” Lucifer added the last part with a whisper.

“My brothers are going to be absolutely devastated. Y/N kept them all together, it’s going to be really difficult keeping everyone together with them gone.” “Adding to the list of problems, now that my Father is back, we 3 now serve him. I don’t get to dictate anything until he crowns me, not like before. We will all be swamped with more work as Father will more than likely try to “fix” my improvements to the Devildom.”

The three sat in silence, lost in their minds, endless possibilities and scenarios floating around in their heads. Eventually, Lucifer excused himself under the guise of some unfinished paperwork and returned back to the House of Lamentation.

“Barb?”

“Yes?”

“What have we done?”

“I don’t know my friend. I don’t know.”

*End Flashback*

Walking up the steps towards the stage, I held my head high making eye contact with no one other than my demons as I kept my expression as comforting as possible for them. Poor Asmo and Mammon looked like a dam threatening to burst. Beel wasn’t faring any better holding on to Belphie for comfort. Levi squeezed Mammon's hand discreetly. Satan gave a sad smile. Lucifer stood by Diavolo’s side, each giving you the smallest hint of a smile while Barbatos stood behind Diavolo's left looking like he always did, but after spending so much time with him, you noticed the small sign of sympathy in his eyes. Making my way center stage I was pushed onto my knees in front of the king. I raised my head up high making direct eye contact in defiance. The king then addressed the crowd which I noticed is filled with not only Demons and Sorcerers of different powers but many demons I knew from RAD and called my friends. They looked solemn as I realized that I made an impact on more than just the brothers.

“Denizens of Devildom! Here is a human who has upset the balance of the Devildom…”

I drowned out the rest of his speech not focusing on anything except for my family up on stage. Ignoring the ringing in my head, I reached out with my pacts just enough for them to feel it. I sent them some of my favourite memories over the years and wished Satan a happy birthday before the king declared my sentence. Holding my head high, I locked my gaze onto him.

“The human known as Y/N is hereby banished from the 3 realms, their soul to be returned to oblivion!”

Smirking he turned to face me. Smiling, showing off his fangs he asked,

“I believe that is a suitable sentence, don't you Y/N?”

I ignored him and turned to the demons on stage. I watched as Beel grabbed onto Belphie harder as tears came to both of their eyes. I saw the dam break in both Mammon and Asmo as Levi and Satan both battled their own tears to try and comfort them. I watched as Lu’s face paled and Diavolo squeezed his friend's shoulder a little tighter to try and ground him. Barbatos looked more solemn as his eyes started to water ever so slightly. The king then summoned a sword, turning towards the brothers, then walked until he stood directly in front of Lucifer and Diavolo. Letting go of his friend's shoulder, both Diavolo and Lucifer bowed their heads towards their king. He then shifted to face Lucifer and held out the sword towards him. A look of shock crossed over the brothers' faces as Lucifer looked up to his king in confusion hoping this didn’t mean what he thought it meant as he slowly accepted the sword.

“Lucifer, Cardinal Sin of Pride. You will be the one to deliver the blow.”

The colour fully drained from his face as the king stepped to the side to allow Lucifer to step up. Slowly with a trembling breath, Lucifer approached you with pleading eyes silently praying that this was some sick nightmare. His brothers looked on in horror, shock freezing them in place. Stopping in front of you, he took one look at you, turned to the king and lowered the sword.

“No… I won’t.”

“Pardon me?”

“I said NO! I will not kill Y/N!”

“Yes, you will.”

The king's eyes started glowing as an aura surrounded Lucifer. His brothers broke out of their trance and tried to reach towards you to hold back their brother from killing you against their wishes. Diavolo and Barbatos stood in shock as the scene unfolded.

“Hear me, denizens of the darkness.” Everyone onstage immediately stopped in their tracks and looked my way.

“Hear me denizens of the darkness. You who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it.” Upon starting the incantation, a magic circle appeared beneath me and Lucifer; my shackles started glowing. An intense pain shot through my skull. Pushing past the pain I continued.

“HEAR ME AND DO AS I COMMAND!” The shackles around my wrists broke under my power and I stood up facing the brothers. The king tried to move towards me but the circle by my feet prevented him from getting close.

“I Y/N order the 7 sins not to interfere with this trial. You are not to make a move against the king after the completion of the trial. You 7 are to remain loyal to Lord Diavolo and continue serving him as his word now outranks the kings!” Ignoring the pleading looks on the brothers' faces, I turned to Lucifer.

“Lucifer, Avatar of the Cardinal Sin of Pride, you are to follow through with your king's command and execute me as is due with your sword. You are to remain loyal to Lord Diavolo above the crown. You are to continue watching over your brothers and are not allowed to fight me on this decision.” Cupping Lucifer's cheek I whispered into his ear, “I want you to be the one Lu.” Stepping back I finished my order. “Now kill me!” Kneeling before Lucifer I looked up with a smile on my face watching as unshed tears began pooling in his eyes as he summoned his sword.

“LUCIFER! NO!”

“LUCIFER! PLEASE NO!”

“Y/N!”

Lucifer looked into my eyes muttering something in angelic before whispering, “I’m sorry…”

With tears burning his eyes he buried the sword deep into my heart.

“Thank you”

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hollenka99 · 3 years

Text

August Fic Recs

Multi-Chapter Fics

I'm never gonna leave you behind someday by Nelleva - T, 17k, completed

The year after a red sky gives people that viewed it powers, Wilbur's family dies in an attack staged by supervillains. He is discovered by Phil who takes him in indefinitely. He is allowed to heal but there is someone he misses and wishes to see again, no matter how much he's wronged him. There is some mild gore in the first chapter and the attack causes a lot of death so be wary of that but the second chapter is full of Dadza raising a teenage Wilbur. This is the first (and currently only) fic in a series.

Whispers of Red by Alexander_Wesker - T, 58k, completed

This is the sequel to Drawing Dead so I suggest you read that one first. Wilbur comes back to act as the Egg's vessel. His goal is to expand his Family and naturally, the first person he wants to join him is his little brother. Alex is able to write unsettling stuff really well and this fic is no exception. I love Eggbur but please keep him and his particularly raw diet far away from me /j.

I Was Looking for Someone by Raisans_Grapeon - T, 9k, ongoing

SBI zombie apocalypse fic where Wilbur (Ghost) is a zombie who runs into a group of three humans who recognise he's self aware and capable of relearning English. There isn't really gore/cannibalism except for one or two brief bits where it's heavily implied but not graphic despite everything being in Ghost's POV. Also, since Wilbur is learning language, whenever he hears a human conversation, the speech is presented as garbled. It takes a little effort to get the hang of deciphering what is being said but it can be done. Ghost is a sweetheart and I would absolutely protect him with my life if necessary.

Home Again, Home Again by teeth_eater - G, 33k, completed

Tommy, a human who was taken from Earth, crashes the ship he was on and becomes a stowaway on a cargo ship that happens to be manned by SBI. When they discover him living in the vents, they keep him in a cell until they are sure this member of a dangerous species won't do them harm, leading to them eventually becoming friendly. The clingyduo friendship is great. I really like 'humans are space orcs' type content and this is a great example of it. I love the worldbuilding and the thought that went into the alien designs. This is part of a series (Human Error) so there are some great scenes like Chiquitita dancing and Tommy downing 'poison' to everyone's horror after the events of this fic are over.

In the Dark Place by teasdays - T, 24k, ongoing

After November 16th, Ghostbur wakes up in Techno's house. He insists he is dead but Techno and Phil keep insisting he's not. As he adjusts to his new way of living, he has to come to terms that something bad happened before he died and that maybe none of his old friends want to hear him out. I find the exploration of 'what if Wilbur survived Nov 16th but just believes he's dead?' really interesting. I also appreciate that Techno's a bit more patient with him about his insistence that he's a ghost. The gardening scene was quite sweet too.

(Also a special mention has to go out to A Twin of Light by Alexander_Wesker (T, 205k, ongoing) since it's caused me to make a bunch of friends, including Alex themself. If you want to see cc!Wilbur and c!Wilbur become arguably the most important people to each other, I recommend this one. Worldbuilding is fantastic)

One shots

Prayers for the Ill by this_is_a_dumb_username - T, 1.5k

Tommy is diagnosed with the same chronic disease his mother died from. He catches Wilbur and the rest of his friends praying for him on various occasions as he deteriorates. Features illness and character death so stay clear if you aren’t comfortable with that.

death, be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so by cptFOZZ - NR, 13k

Tommy is Death and his work sees him encouraging souls to go through the door to the After. However, he meets Wilbur and from there, things unravel as he gradually gets attached to Wilbur's family and friends. There is obviously a tw for the deaths of both humans and animals but also one of the souls he encounters is due to suicide and Tommy is fond of the bugs that follow him around. So be aware of all that, along with anything else mentioned in the tags.

Worth a Try by Solena2 - T, 2k

Eret prevents Wilbur from detonating the TNT on November 16th. I loved their dynamic of ‘traitor and imminent traitor’ and the way they are both characterised. Wilbur clearly wants to get it over with despite how many times he’s backed down and Eret wants to talk him out of it.

Little Wings by Pixelfun20 - T, 7k

Wilbur seems to have been his mother's son in appearance from day 1. Phil doesn't mind this as much anymore but when his infant son becomes irritable and seemingly inconsolable one week, he realises Wilbur might have inherited something from him after all. Essentially, Babybur starts growing wings and his parents try to comfort him through it. It's technically an ongoing fic but the only chapter feels like a one shot to me and it hasn't updated since March so I'm putting it here.

5 times being a seer changed the future, and the 1 time it set it in stone by 5ievel - NR, 7k

Wilbur has prophetic dreams and he uses them to decipher what he should look out for. They help him save Techno's life, prevent the Final Control Room and he thinks it will help him stop a traitor from using explosives. You know immediately whose name should be on his list of suspects but the last line makes all that pay off so well.

#dream smp #dsmp fic rec #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza #technoblade #sbi #tubbo #long post

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sirenascales · 3 years

Text

-> Chuuya with a Black F!Reader who's a bit insecure because of her skin.

@furrypostsoul said: Hello admin, I hope you’re having a good day! So stoked to see a fellow bisexual bsd fan! I would politely like to request a chuuya Drabble with a black fem bisexual reader where she thought that chuuya wouldnt be interested in her romantically cause of y’know, her skin. If you could also add in scenarios where she was racially harassed in public (pls dont write this is ur not comfortable, I understand if you don’t! it’s something I want people to be aware about)

note: ahhh thank you so much for your request! i immediately had an idea as soon as I saw it and I believe I came up with a good one, especially after asking some of my pals for advice on how to tackle it! Hope you like it!

warnings: colorism, mentions of racial fetishization, microaggresion, and racism [not from Chuuya] insecure reader, angst to fluff i promise,

"I still don't understand why it takes so long to do your hair... aren't you just getting braids?" The confused look on Chuuya's face was honestly super cute and hilarious and you couldn't help but laugh behind your hand.

"That's just the way it is, man. That's why I said we can go out on Saturday. I can't on Friday since I'll be strapped to the chair."

"Man, whatever," Chuuya huffed and you rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Don't whatever me. Just suck it up!"

You shook your head, the hustle and bustle of the shopping district around you fading as you looked to your companion. Red hair, blue eyes, fancy clothes and a dumb hat; Chuuya was honestly too handsome, too damn fine. The scowl on his face was cute and you resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks. You knew he would literally kill you for that, and you valued your life.

You and Chuuya were in that talking stage and finally decided to go out on your first official date on Saturday. Besides his... occupation, you found yourself very much liking the man. Not just for his looks, but his fiery personality made him interesting, the way he carried himself. He was great and you were so into him.

You hoped he felt the same way. He had to, he agreed to the date in the first place! And how could he not? You were a sight, rich brown skin and he sorta, kinda, absolutely loved the cute afro puffs you had on your head. You were beautiful, a bright spirit with a bit of an edge that Chuuya definitely liked.

After talking some more, Chuuya had to go off to do his own thing, and after sharing a very tight hug, you waved him farewell, promising to see him on Saturday for your first date.

You couldn't help the huge, happy grin on your face, giddy as you made your way over to a nearby bench, sitting next to an older woman. You paid her no mind, grabbing your phone to text your friend as you giggled to yourself.

"Was that your boyfriend?" the woman suddenly inquired and you blinked at her in surprise. Then, your face started to heat up and you laughed lightly.

"Well, not yet. We're just dating."

"Ah..." the woman trailed off and you didn't like the tone of her voice. Suddenly feeling awkward, you turned back to your phone.

"I don't mean to be rude," the woman started and you couldn't help the sense of dread you felt. Here we go again. "But you should be careful, dear. You're a beautiful woman but... Japanese men don't really like dark skin. Not unless they are with you for... ulterior motives."

Even if you were already expecting some foolishness, the woman's words still stunned you, striking you to your core as you gave her a look that exceeded shock. You were appalled, your chest tightening in anger and hurt. You took in a slow deep breath, your fists clenching tightly. Your body had gone numb, and you tried your best to keep it cool. You couldn't make a scene.

"Wow," you laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood up. You didn't pay that stupid bitch any mind, storming away, your anger just boiling.

Not only did that woman ruin your entire day, she honestly ruined your entire week. The anger had soon subsided and you were left with the insecurities you tried to push down, especially when it came to Chuuya. Your mind ran at one hundred miles per hour, overthinking as the cruel words lingered in your mind.

Was Chuuya another one? Like your last relationship, were you just a sexual conquest for someone just wanting to try having sex with a Black girl? That was what your ex-girlfriend did to you, so was this just the same? Did he even like you?

No. Chuuya wouldn't do that.

Even so, you canceled your date with him as you sat in the stylist's chair on Friday, eyes burning with tears. You didn't want to experience that again, so you figured you give it all up before you get hurt again. Or even worse.

After spending day getting your hair done, you gotten a quick bite to eat before heading home, feeling completely dejected. Your hair looked amazing, long box braids swaying as you trudged along. But Chuuya didn't answer your text at all, and that honestly made you feel even more like shit. Did he not care at all?

You sighed deeply, coming up on your apartment, stopping when you saw a very familiar red motorcycle parked along the sidewalk. Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Chuuya leaning against his bike, and when he finally noticed you, your heart dropped when he yelled your name.

"Oi!" he hollered, stomping over to you angrily. "What the hell do you mean our date is canceled?!"

"I-" you were at a loss for words. "Why are you here?"

"I was waiting for you! I didn't know where you were getting your hair done so I just stood here."

"Th-the whole day?! Chuuya!"

"I mean, I went and got food and stuff but-"

"That's not the point!" you interrupted. "Why would you even bother?"

Chuuya scoffed. "Are you serious? You suddenly cancel our date and you expect me not to worry about you?" As he finished talking, Chuuya is shocked to find tears pooling in your eyes, your lips trembling as you hung your head. "H-hey, what the hell happened?"

"You don't just want to fuck me, right?"

Now Chuuya was at a loss for words, his jaw hanging open as he registered your ridiculous words. You spoke again, telling him about the things that woman said to you earlier that week, as well as the horrible experience you had with your ex-girlfriend.

"... I tried not to think too much about it but... I'm used to comments about my skin and race, I mean, hello! I'm Black, but... " you trailed off, lifting your hands up to wipe your tears away. Chuuya beat you to it, and you stared at him with teary eyes as he gently wiped your tears away.

"I'm not your ex-girlfriend." Chuuya was firm as he spoke. "And that old hag needs to mind her own fucking business. I fucking like you. Not because of some weird sexual thing, I actually fucking like you. The whole you. You're beautiful and smart, you keep me on my toes. And yes, your skin and hair are amazing, I love them, but those are only parts of you that I find amazing. I'm not giving you my love and attention because I want something from you, I'm giving it because you deserve it. And I want to be the one who gives it to you."

You didn't know what to say, what to do. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, your mouth going dry. Still, after a moment you just end up punching Chuuya lightly on his chest, choking out a laugh while you cried.

"Shut up... all that sappy shit..."

Chuuya scoffed, lowkey offended. "Excuse me? I basically just confessed to you."

"Yeah..." you sniffed, looking and giving the man a watery smile. "You did. I..." Lips trembling again, you took a step forward and Chuuya wasted no time in pulling you in for a hug.

"And you better accept me or else I will kick your ass," Chuuya said, pressing his face against your hair. "You smell nice..."

"Hm."

"And you're perfect. Worth more than an experimental fuck and the words of some old bitch." There was a bite to Chuuya's words, and that made you feel so much better.

"I'm sorry for doubting you..." you whispered and Chuuya shook his head, pulling away from the hug.

"Don't be. I understand, I promise."

You smiled widely, face getting hot as he gently cupped your cheek. "Are you sure?"

Chuuya rolled his eyes. "Fine, you can make it up to me by un-cancelling our date. Let me show you off."

You giggled softly, hugging him again. "Okay. That's fair."

Send in your requests!

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya x black reader #bsd requests #i really hope this is okay!!!

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super-predictable98 · 3 years

Text

The Girl From Night Raven | Twisted Wonderland AU

Chapter 7: I See the Light

Warning: Strong language, mild sexual content

(The Girl From Night Raven Masterlist)

"I understand you don't like each other, but we will need you to kiss by the end of the song, it's a stage kiss, get over yourselves," Vil scolded as Ilse turned her head once more at the end of I See The Light. "We only have one more rehearsal before the opening night! If any of you embarrass me, I'll poison you!"

"Don't worry, we'll kiss," she assured. "But maybe we can do it during the actual show? I don't wanna do this unless it's completely necessary."

"You're that scared to fall in love with me?" Leona teased with a smirk.

"Shut up!"

"Maybe it's not a bad idea, Roi du Poison," Rook raised his hand. "Maybe it'll be special for them to have their first kiss at the same time as their characters. It might give some extra authenticity to the scene."

"Fine!" he agreed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just get out of my sight! Don't you dare be late for tomorrow's rehearsal!"

"You know, I'm starting to like you as a blonde," Leona ran his fingers through Ilse's wig.

She was about to tell him to go fuck himself, when that moment came back to her, the moment he sang with her to cheer her up and roared after she dared him. She never knew he was capable of such sweetness, ever since it happened she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"That's because I look cute no matter what," she said instead before grabbing her bag to go to class.

"You're right about that, Starfish," Floyd followed, rushing to open the door for her. "What about some tea before the show tomorrow at the Mostro Lounge?"

"Can Kalim come? He invited me out already."

"Um, sure, I guess..." he sighed. Floyd was hoping to have some alone time with her, now that she was pretty much adapted to the new school, maybe she could give some thought to that conversation they had on their first date (if you can call it a date), about having a boyfriend.

"You're the best," Ilse gently kissed his pale cheek which immediately turned deep red.

"She did it again, didn't she?" Jade asked as the twins met just outside of the Pomefiore dorm. "Every single time you just blush like an idiot. If you really like her, you should be more direct, you know? If you haven't noticed, she's the only girl around here and most guys have some sort of crush on her. If you're too slow, you might lose her to someone else."

"I know, Jade, I know..." his voice dropped.

Meanwhile, Ilse was escorted to the classroom for Mr. Crewel's lesson by the Heartslabyul freshmen and Jack. She told Kalim to meet her at the Mostro Lounge instead of the Scarabia lounge for their date, which at first made him a little hesitant, but he was way too happy to care.

"And we meet again, princess," Leona sat next to her, carelessly throwing his bag on the desk.

"Still in first-year potions? Wow, it must take some dedication..." she teased though there was no real anger behind her words. Ever since the play rehearsals began, this bickering had become more of a game between them, even if she wouldn't admit it. She still thought Kingscholar was disgusting and obnoxious, but at least he wasn't totally heartless. She wasn't that angry anymore, at least not yet.

The assignment for the week was to brew a potion that allowed the drinker to see their future, a random snippet of what would happen during their lives. It was finally time to present the final results for testing, most of the students couldn't wait to try it and see what was to come.

"Okay, all your potions seem to have been made correctly, and even if there's a mistake, it just might make your vision blurry or choppy, so it won't be a big issue. Go ahead, drink it up, pups," Mr. Crewel hit the desk with his whip.

Ilse closed her eyes as she downed the blue liquid that looked more like mouthwash. At first, it felt like nothing was happening, but then her eyes started getting heavy, so heavy she was forced to close them, but instead of darkness, she saw something that was almost like a movie from her point of view.

There was a huge forest, a castle on top of a mountain, and a river flowing down to the city. She could feel the gentle breeze blowing through her hair, the sun warming every inch of her, she didn't know where she was, but somehow she knew it was home.

"Hey! Hey!" a tug at her tunic made her turn around to find the cutest little child. He had lion ears, a tail, and a dark brown mane. He was holding his arms up as if he wanted to be held, which Ilse did without even hesitating.

Who the hell is that kid? She thought, but couldn't say, after all, it was only a memory, she had no control over it.

"What are you doing here, Hakim? Aren't you supposed to be taking a bath right now?" she said, narrowing her eyes as the kid tried to dazzle her with his most adorable puppy dog (more like lion cub) eyes.

"Sorry, I looked away for a second and he ran off," a familiar voice called before Ilse saw who it belonged to. Leona was walking through the forest, wearing only a pair of jeans and his long hair was soaking wet, held up in a ponytail.

"I don't want tooooo!" the boy protested. "You don't know how to wash my mane, daddy. Only mommy knows how to do it so I don't get shampoo in my eyes."

"Oh, only mommy knows how. I see," Leona laughed, he still had some of that crude asshole he truly was inside of him, but he was also a lot more smiley, a lot less explosive. "Amadi says I'm the best at it, guess your sister just loves me more..."

"No! I love you, daddy, I just don't wanna take a bath right now!"

What the fuck is going on? I'm not this kid's mom, why is this happening? Ilse tried to fight it, but it was useless, she was simply a spectator to what seemed like a bad trip.

"What if I give you a bath? Your mommy is a little busy right now, right?" a young man asked, he was probably in his early '20s, his long orange mane was all braided and his honey-colored eyes were strangely comforting.

"Yes!" Hakim clapped in excitement. "Then can you braid my hair too?"

"Of course, little guy."

"Thank you, Cheka," Leona said with a huge smile as the little boy took his cousin's hand. "You know how to tame a brat, you used to be one," he taunted before taking his wife in his arms.

"I love you too, uncle!"

"Amadi was supposed to be home already, what's taking her so long? I swear I'm starting to get gray hairs because of that girl," he groaned.

"I don't know, but Ruggie is with her, she's okay," Ilse placed her hands on Leona's bare chest before looking up to kiss him. "Maybe everything worked out to give us some alone time. I really miss you, your majesty."

"Don't you come at me with the 'your majesty' as if you're not the queen!"

"Then treat me like one. Will you give me the attention I deserve or are you gonna make me beg?"

"A queen begging isn't very elegant... But I happen to love when you do it."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" she finally snapped back into reality, at least her current reality. "NO! NO NO NO! This potion is wrong, sir, there's something wrong with it! This can't be my future!"

"Calm down, Ms. Gothel!" Mr. Crewel tapped her head with the tip of the whip. "The future you see isn't set in stone, it's just a natural progression of what you do right now. If you wish to change it, you still can."

"I don't want it, I don't want it, that's gross," she cried, banging her head on the desk.

"What did you see?" Ace asked, worried.

"My kids," she decided to omit the part about Leona being king of the Afterglow Savannah and all the other stuff.

"And you don't like them?" Deuce grimaced. "Or you didn't like the father?"

"Fuck you, pervert! You tainted my potion!" Ilse grabbed Leona by the collar of his shirt. "What did you do?"

"Me?" he growled, no one had dared to touch him in that way before. "What's wrong with you?"

"Senpai is the father of your children?" Jack's eyes widened.

"Oh, I see..." he smirked, pulling away from her. "So that was your toothbrush. I thought it was weird that I had two. I did nothing to your stupid potion, it's not my fault you're having my children."

"I would choose any boy in here to have kids with, I wouldn't have your cubs even if you were the last man on this side of the Magic Mirror! You nasty beast..." Ilse sneered. "I'd much rather marry Kalim, or Floyd, or Idia, or Malleus."

"Malleus?" Leona's face darkened. "Yeah sure. Just admit it, you like me, you like this nasty beast. Actually, I'd say that's exactly why you like me."

"You are insufferable, don't ever talk to me again!"

——————————————————

"Come in, don't make me waste my time," Vil got significantly angrier the closer they were to the opening night. "Since our prince decided he wasn't feeling well, for this rehearsal I'll need you, Kalim."

"Leona isn't feeling well?" Ilse asked without even meaning to.

"No, that's what Ruggie told me, he's resting to be able to perform tomorrow. Now, Rook! Get her wig, we need to start as quickly as possible."

"Oui," the boy took her hand and Kalim followed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, not wanting to sound like a creep, but also concerned about the rumors going around.

"Oh, so you heard," she huffed, angry at herself for making a scene in front of everyone.

"Might've, nothing too specific. Just something about... You having Leona's babies."

"Well, that won't happen!"

"You know, what I saw with that potion the first time I took it was totally different from what I saw the second time. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'm happy I get to be your prince today at least."

"Yeah, me too," she finally managed to smile.

Ilse wondered if he heard about the other detail, about when she said she would rather have his children, but even if she asked, he probably would deny it. Being the gentleman he is, he wouldn't wanna embarrass her.

What she didn't know is that Leona wasn't actually in his room, he used one of his underclassmen's transfiguration skills to watch the entire thing from the window without being noticed. There was one thing he needed to know.

When I See The Light finally ended, Ilse didn't turn her face. She let Kalim kiss her, following what the script said. That gesture caused anger to bubble up in Leona's chest. He didn't like her, of course he didn't! But why would she refuse to do it with him and...?

"I see how it is, she won't kiss me, but she'll kiss that bastard," he muttered quietly before leaving, heading back to his dorm.

"Five minutes everyone!" Vil clapped loudly to announce their break before starting act two.

"Wow," Kalim laughed softly, his tan cheeks were bright pink and his hands were shaking. "That was really nice."

"I thought so too," Ilse giggled. That was her first kiss, but she kept that to herself, it would be her own special memory with that one special guy she would never forget. So even if that future became a reality and some twisted version of her married Leona, she would always hold that moment in her heart. That tender, innocent, first kiss.

"That lucky son of a bitch," Floyd bit his own arm, leaving the mark of his sharp teeth behind.

"Tell me about it..." Ace huffed.

tag list: @elliethesuperfruitlover

#twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland au #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst #twst oc #twst au #fanfic #oc x canon #leona kingscholar #kalim al asim

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Steamy Waters – Jin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Angel) Wordcount: 9.1k Genre: smut, unadulterated smut, slightest fluff, established relationship, idol!au Rating: 18+

Hello wildflowers! Welcome to Jin’s Steamy Waters scenario (and coincidentally his birthday fic too). Let me explain you the plot, real quick: the fic is set right after the MAMA ceremony, and because of the several award ceremonies and a busy schedule, Jin and his gf unfortunately couldn’t celebrate his birthday in time. However, Jin decides to take the matter in his own hands, offering Angel a nice bath, which quite expectedly turns into very hot business.

And now on to TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is an established relationship and yes, the character have unprotected sex; no, this does not mean that you should forego condoms or dental dams. There is some swearing. Other than that, well, big dick, jackhammer!Jin is back (couldn’t really do any different. We know he’s blessed like that); breast worship, slight marking, nipple suction cups, clitoral suction cup, oral sex (both male and female receiving), cum shot (face and chest), cum eating and more generically cum play; masturbation (both male and female); barely dommy Seokjin; slight degradation (he calls her naughty and dirty a couple times, but he’s more patronising than insulting); gagging (he puts his fingers in her mouth to keep her quiet); overstimulation; very briefly, playfully mentions erectile dysfunction (Jin jokes about it). Angel has medium-big, quite sensitive breasts. Jin and Angel briefly discuss a past scene where a pinwheel and a riding crop were involved, and where Angel used her safeword (no angst).

In case you need it, well here is my masterlist

(I’ll be editing this again sometime soon, here it’s ass o’clock in the morning and atm I can barely think straight -- well, I never really think straight, I’m bi af.)

Enjoy 💜✨

–——————————————

Jin came through the door with the tip of his nose red, rubbing his hands together.

“Darling.” You called from the kitchen. It was almost one am and you had just finished watching the MAMA ceremony, waiting for him to get home. As you waited, you got two cups of tea ready, especially after he told you he had been cold all night long.

When he appeared, he was the personification of an icicle, shaking all over. “Hi.” He greeted.

“Hello, baby. Would you like some tea?” You asked, standing in front of him.

He nodded. You hugged him tight. “Oh, you’re frozen, baby.” You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his lips. “Congratulations on your… how many prizes?” Your frowned in confusion.

“They’re… eight? Nine? I lost count.” He shrugged and dipped down his head, kissing you again, rubbing his frozen nose against yours. “And I’m happy about those, but...” He placed his hands on your waist, letting them slide down to your hips and ass. “I have other stuff on my mind.”

“Like?” You said, smiling and running your palms up his chest, gripping his shoulders.

“Like the fact that we didn’t celebrate my birthday because they kept me busy.” He murmured, kneading your ass through the fine fleece of your pyjamas.

“You want to celebrate?” You said, combing his hair back, grimacing as your fingers got caught on several strata of hairspray. “Maybe after you shower?” You suggested.

“Maybe you could keep me warm in the bathtub.” He looked down and licked his lips, raising his eyebrows as he looked into your eyes.

You raised your eyebrows in reply, a bit surprised by his proposition. “You’ve eaten already?” You asked.

“Mhmh.” He confirmed as he kept his hands on your waist, backwalking towards the bathroom with small steps.

“What are you doing?” You asked, with a smirk.

“Claiming my birthday present?” He suggested, taking bigger steps now that he was in the short corridor leading to the master bedroom and that you looked more complacent.

You chuckled. “You really want to take a bath at one am?”

“I just want quality time with you.” He said. “And I need to get washed.”

“Okay.” You nodded as he finally entered the bathroom.

He grinned, immediately walking to the tub and blocking the drain before he opened the tap, placing the settings on hot water. He poured some soap in, his sweet jasmine scent wafting through the room. The air in the bathroom was toasty, and he placed his hands near the heater, letting them warm up before he undid the buttons of his shirt.

He only had a white tank top on underneath, which made you realize how cold he must have been. The garment emphasised his thin waist and wide shoulders so beautifully that you walked closer, backhugging him. “Did you have a woolen jacket on or was it light fabric?” You asked, rubbing your hands down his arms.

“I had the jacket on stage, I had my coat in the backstage.” He reassured you.

Your hands met his belt, so familiar with it that it was almost too easy to undo.

“Are you helping me get undressed?” He asked with a playful tone.

“Maybe.” You replied with a cheshire grin that he spotted through the mirror.

“Why aren’t you undressing yourself?” He asked, curious.

You shrugged. “I prefer when you undress me.”

He turned around in your arms, cupping your cheeks, his eyes glimmering with dark intensity. He looked so unbelievably beautiful as he licked his lips. “You want me to undress you?” He asked, his voice calm and serious and warm.

“Yes, Jinnie.” You whispered, placing his hands on the waistband of your sweats.

“Here.” He said, as he bent down, dragging the garment with him, helping your feet out of the legs of your pyjamas while he stayed crouched at your feet. Standing up, he noticed the lack of underwear. “No panties?” He asked, raising his eyebrows and smirking slowly.

“They were making me uncomfortable.” You explained, raising your arms as he took off your camisole.

“And what about the bra?” He asked, immediately cupping your breasts and diving his face in between them, pressing heavy kisses on your breastbone.

“I never wear it at home and you know it.” You stated matter-of-factly.

“Sometimes you do.” He said.

“Never with my pyjamas.” You objected.

He shrugged and kissed both your nipples gingerly. “My turn?” He said, raising his arms.

You slipped your hand under his tank top, dragging it up with your nails, his hands landing on your ass.

“You’re on fire tonight, Jinnie.” You teased. He had become more passionate with time, warming up to you and your kinkier needs, discovering domination and all the connected disciplines. He had learned a lot — most importantly that having sex with you was just as good and perfect as making love to you — which had come as a revelation to him and a blessing to you.

Still, sometimes you wished you hadn't set the beast inside him free, since he could be the most demanding, exhausting lover you could ever imagine.

He caught your wrists, stopping your hands from tugging down his slacks and underwear together. “You don't want it?” He asked, suddenly serious.

You thought about it. You were tired and your eyes felt droopy after six hours in front of the television. “I'm just surprised. I didn't know you had been craving it like this.” You explained. “I would have helped you out if I had known.”

He pushed your wrists down, dragging his trousers too in the process. “I wanted to take our time. Make it something big, festive.” He said just as you kneeled to take his pants off, his half hard cock springing free.

“If you want, we can put a ribbon on your dick and there you go, 'big and festive'.” You joked, already trying to get your mouth on his length.

He chuckled and your heart filled with happiness as his joy manifested. You love making him laugh.

“I have an idea.” He announced suddenly with a serious face as he took a step back, stopping your naughty endeavour.

“Your ideas scare me. And no, we're not doing the pinwheel thing again. I still have to emotionally recover from that.” You said.

His mind went back to that evening. It had been almost ten days. “You looked so pretty, though.”

“I just need a bit before we go there again.” You explained.

“This conversation is not over, let me just go grab a thing,” He said, wrapping a towel around his waist and exiting the bathroom. In the meantime you closed the tap, getting ready to dip your toes in.

“Don't go in just yet.” He said, entering the room just in time. He placed two small objects on the bathroom counter. “Come here, please.” He said. “I think this could work, but I'm not sure.”

You took a few steps, your frame standing naked in front of him. God, he wanted you in so many ways. Your grace and finesse and selfish sexuality, all enslaved to his pleasure. He wanted that. He wanted to use you for his pleasure and drive you completely insane as he did so. He wanted you to live your pleasure through his. He wanted your soul, your body, your big eyes staring at him, and your cunt dripping all over him.

Later, he told himself.

He turned and picked up the tiny accessories from the bathroom sink. “These cannot go underwater, Angel. If they do, they might lose the vacuum effect and release your pretty buds.” He bent down to your left nipple, cupping the underside of your breast to bring it closer to your mouth. He suckled on it a little, his hand cupping your mound, teasing a wetness that he seemed to evoke simply with his attention towards you. Parting from your breast with a loud sucking noise, he used both his hands to fix the small nipple pump around your small protuberance, keeping the cylinder firm as he twisted a small screw on top of the cylinder which regulated the amount of pressure inside the cup.

He repeated the same procedure on the other nipple, after he laved it with wide, lush licks. “It would have been lovely to put one on your clit, but I'm not sure it could hold.” He kissed your sternum. “Plus, I shouldn't spoil your pretty cunt from the very start.” He bent to your ear. “You've got to earn yourself heaven, Angel.” He smiled innocently and winked before standing up straight.

You frowned and took a step back before noticing the way the towel was still draped around his hips and sat a bit awkwardly around his growing cock.

Smirking, you tugged at it, leaving him naked. He lifted an eyebrow before sporting a lop-sided grin. “Don’t make me put you on your knees, Angel.”

“What if I wanted you to do just that?” You asked, stepping closer, dragging your nails down his thigh.

“In the tub. Now.” He ordered.

“You won’t even let me kiss it?” You asked, batting your lashes at him.

“Later. Maybe.” He said, looking at your breasts and licking his lips. “Get in the tub, Angel.” He repeated, more gently. You hugged him and you were suddenly reminded of the small suction cups as they collided with Jin’s chest.

Holding your waist, he started taking small steps to his destination, leading you as you walked backwards. “I want to relax with you first. Talk about some stuff.” He stated softly.

You simply nodded, just a small part of you growing alarmed at his statement regarding “talking about stuff”. You trusted him and your relationship was solid. There was nothing to be worried about.

He stopped you just shy of the tub, entering and holding your hand as he helped you in, sitting down first and making you settle between his legs. His hands immediately moved under your breasts, supporting them to avoid the cups getting underwater. “There we go, my love.” He murmured gently. “So what happened with the pinwheel? Would you like to talk about it? Did I cross a line?” He asked.

Truth is, Seokjin has learned a lot. From being a novice, he had become an upper-intermediate in terms of domination and punishments. If you asked him, he would say that half of his improvements were because of the excellent communication that the two of you had built. Moments like this, where you simply connected and recollected events together weren’t rare at all. He would ask you for suggestions and improvements, he would question you about what had gone wrong and what you would like to explore further.

“I think that at a certain moment you snapped? And the riding crop was… too much. I was so focused on the tiny feel of the pinwheel that the crop was all too sudden and...I couldn’t stand it.”

His body was finally warm at your back. He slowly let go of your chest, making sure that the cups wouldn’t submerge as he stretched to dry his hands with a towel, only to fix your hair on top of your head, trying to make sure that they didn't get wet. “You used your safeword a couple times but you didn’t stop. Why?” He asked.

“I used our yellow. To slow down.” You recalled.

He hummed in confirmation.

“I liked your attitude. I wanted you to keep going, even though the scene was a bit harsh.” You explained.

“Was I too harsh?” He asked delicately, his hands going back to your breasts, massaging the heavy underside. The dry pull at your nipples made you clench the inner walls of your entrance, and you could almost sense the wetness already forming inside,

“A few times. When you hit the spot where the pinwheel had just been. Especially on my breasts. And crotch.” You explained trying to keep your composure but failing, throwing your head against his shoulder and huffing out his name.

His hands were teasing in that skilled, knowledgeable way he knew, like you were his harp and he was playing you with the most delicate stimulation. With his thumbs he was drawing lines that moved from the perimeter of each breast to its nipple, like rays of an inverted sun, going from the outskirts to the centre. Your skin grew more and more sensitive, with blood blooming to the surface, summoned both by the suction on your nipple and by his delicate touches. The arousal, only adding onto the vicious circle, made your heartbeat faster, fatefully increasing the amount of fresh blood running under the skin skimmed by his fingers, in an endless game of chase where all you did was run in circles around pleasure, without ever a true chance of reaching it.

“Are they getting sensitive, my love?” He asked, his hands continuing with their pattern even as your hands dove underwater to grip his knees. Anything that could anchor you down and keep you from moving like a flame to his wind.

“What are your intentions? Do you want to play?” You asked. You knew he was tiptoeing around that fine line that divided your Jinnie, bright and playful and loving, to the dark and demanding master that he could become when in his worst behaviour.

“I wanted to see if we can just… blur the line a little.” He asked, slightly doubtful. “I know that so far we have always discussed most things together and that has kept us this close.” He said, right when his hands went back to simply cupping your curves.

He nuzzled his nose into the hair of your nape. You shivered slightly, just as his cock fluttered, trapped between his abdomen and your backside as he spooned you. “Tonight I thought we could keep all the rough stuff on the side and just… Have fun? Like, doing what we do but without me overpowering you and using you and all of that. I just want it to be light. And fun. Light like when we make love and fun like when we play.” Jin asked, frowning as he realised just how strange and confused hus request was.

“You want the sex without the domination.” You rephrased before he nodded simply. “That is fine to me.” You agreed.

“I mean, I might still take control. I have the strange feeling I will. Like I will completely ignore this conversation and turn Godzilla on you.”

You shrugged. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy him doing that. Actually, it’s what he did best. Not that the rest wasn’t nice. Quite the opposite. But if his vanilla was ten out of ten, his… So to say… Beast mode… Well, that was an eleven.

“Jinnie, baby. It’s your birthday, love.” You said. “Well, not really your birthday birthday, but it’s you that we’re celebrating. You know I support you whatever you do. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” You stated coolly.

“But you promise you won’t say yes when you want to say no only because it’s my birthday?” He asked, and you could almost hear the small pout in his voice,

“No birthday privilege can push me through my hard limits, Jinnie.” You reassured him.

“Cool.” He stated.

“Cool.” You echoed.

“Will you wash my hair, please?” He asked, kissing your temple.

You smiled, falling in love all over again, head to toe, in that precise second. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. “Of course.” You turned around fully, facing him, kneeling between his legs as he moved closer to the middle of the tub. His hands immediately moved to your waist, touching it as if he was moulding the thin neck of a vase.

“You’re very handsy tonight.” You noticed as you drew the small shower head close to his head, placing your hand at his hairline to make sure that he wouldn’t get water in his eyes.

“I…” He began, however he found himself speechless. He didn’t really have any reasons other than wanting you. He didn’t quite understand how it was that this craving of his had appeared so sudden and intense. He didn’t know what made it so different from the other times. He was just… So needy. It felt right. So right, to cross some boundaries tonight, to go the extra mile — miles, even — to please you. He just needed to see you come apart in his arms. Maybe he needed a confirmation? Yes, he needed to know that he was going in the right direction. But he also just wanted to have fun. To feel young. To feel that teenage frenzy that had never possessed him.

Because he felt envious. Sometimes. Of the way the others seemed to live sex as this possessing and at the same time liberating experience that seemed to just cleanse them from all the frustration of rehearsals and performances and shows and everything. Of the way Hoseok waltzed in all fresh and loose-limbed, five minutes late on Saturday morning. Of the dizzy smile Taehyung had that morning when Lace slept at their place. Of the way Yoongi randomly disappeared every now and then, only to come back with bruises on his neck and this lazy and sated look on his face. And of the way Namjoon was always so energised and productive till the late hours after Vixen left his studio in bright red stilettos and a fancy — and suspicious — raincoat.

They were the ones who could barely hide it. Jimin and Guk normally were more discreet. Except the little one had unnerving ego boosts every time he came back from weekends with Candy. And Jimin’s brattier side seemed always asleep once Princess had had her sweet way with him.

He wanted to be relaxed and careless and arrogant, just like that.

He kept thinking, where was the trick? What was it that made it that good? Was he doing something wrong?

Curious about his long long silence, you reckoned he was worrying over something. “What is it?”

He hesitated a couple seconds before his eyebrows knitted together in a focused expression. “What do you think it is that makes sex good?” He asked. “Perfect, even.”

You smiled and frowned, confused. “Why are you asking?”

“You know that relaxed, easy feel you have afterwards, when you’re just… Like, feeling hazy and all of that.”

You giggled and poured some shampoo on your palm, foaming it up before beginning to massage it into his scalp. “I guess it’s hormones.” You said, shrugging.

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I’ve never felt that relaxed.” He said. “Of course I like what we do, and it’s not that what we’ve had so far isn’t good, but when the guys get laid it shows. Like, really really shows.”

Your eyebrows shot up, as you sat straighter, using your fingertips to scratch the crown of his head. He moaned, “right there”, and whined as you kept rubbing the spot with a knowing smirk. As his eyes opened slightly, he found your tits right in front of his face, at which he placed his forehead on your sternum dragging his face side to side, nuzzling into your breasts.

You laughed. ��But it does show, when you get laid.” You moved your hand behind his ears, still checking for any leftovers of hairspray or hair gel.

“Really? How?”

“It’s subtle. You don’t boast about this stuff. But it shows.” You said, rubbing his scalp, just shy of his forehead, where most of the hairstyling had happened. You knew that having his hair lifted up like that over his face, showing the neat, broad expanse of his brow must have meant lots of hairspray and hair gel. “You walk straighter. Like you’re the king of the world. It’s like… In your spine. You scream ‘daddy material’ with your whole posture. You get even sexier than normal. You don’t notice it maybe, but you laugh more easily and you let yourself rest a little. That’s how it looks.”

Rinsing his hair, you let the water push it back, out of his forehead, which you admired for only a second before focusing on getting all the suds away from his hair. Once happy with the results, you closed the tap to the shower head, placing the tool back on its prop. You admired the smooth extent of clear skin under your eyes, his brow glimmering with water droplets. Bending down, you placed small kisses on it, making sure that not an inch went unkissed or unloved. “But maybe I should show you how it feels to really let go, to get that loose.”

He kissed your mole, right under your breast and slowly worked his way up, towards your caged nipple. “How does that work?”

You caught his head in your arms, cradling it. “Let me take care of that.” You suggested delicately, just as he teased the suction cup with his nose. The movement caused a shift in the flesh, a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. His wide, brown eyes stared into you, obviously knowing what that reaction must have meant. His hands tentatively caressed the back of your thighs, from your knees to the curve of your ass, slithering between your legs and pushing you forward, making you straddle his lap. This time he ran the tip of his thumb around the base of the cup, making your eyes roll back.

“What about you? Who’ll take care of you?” He asked, lightly patting the underside of your breasts before moving to firmer, slapping motions.

You lost your mind.

You let your hips fall, meeting the flesh of his cock and grinding against it. Penetration was a foolish thought at the current situation, but grinding? Yes, please.

Plus, the moment you heard Jin’s groan when you pressed him to your belly, you knew tonight was the night you would finally drive him over the edge. You knew that when he ventured into scenes with you, in the end he was relaxed, but he was still struggling with that sense of guilt that after a few months had significantly reduced, but was still there, on a smaller extent. And when he made love to you, he never really went to the end of it, refusing to let himself loose to make sure that you were completely taken care of.

But tonight it was you taking care of him. And you would not let him go until you had sucked him dry. Rubbing yourself against him, you let your hand into his hair and direct his mouth to your other breast, where he pressed his tongue against your curves, shifting the weight of them around. It was such a strange feeling to feel the very base of your boobs so affected by a simple, superficial teasing. It was like the motionless emptiness inside the vacuumed cup only found its true value when the flesh underneath it was moved, like the sudden rush of blood caused by movement was what kept the fire burning.

“I wanna taste you.” You murmured, your lips hovering over his.

“You wanna kiss me or…?” He asked, looking at you with hooded eyes. He looked beautiful and lustful.

You realised only in that moment that you hadn’t really kissed him, if not for small pecks and gentle brushing of lips. That you had been naked, fairly horny, in a bathtub for the last thirty minutes, and you hadn’t even kissed.

Cupping his cheeks, you dove for his lips, both your and his mouth hanging open waiting for your tongues to meet and intertwine. You pressed even harder into him, moaning as your tongue entered his mouth, giving a little flick with the tip to his lower lip before conquering the whole cavity of his cheeks and palate with wide, slow sweeps.

He reckoned none of his exes had ever kissed him like this. Like he was one of their possessions. Like he belonged to you and you were simply claiming your right to his mouth and every other part of his body.

You were the best kisser, especially with the way your hands moved on his face and hair and shoulders, kneading into the tense skin until he was like putty in your hands, until he was feeling nothing but the way you moved on his lap, your hips gyrating on him. “I want out.” He said, slightly drawing back from the kiss. “Let’s get out of the tub.”

You cupped his jaw and with your thumb, you played with his lower lip. How round and firm it felt, so plump and full. Ignoring him, you simply bent down and bit on it with small nibbles, using only your front teeth to test the density and texture of the flesh.

It was just inhumanely thick. You reluctantly parted from his mouth, looking him in the eye, only to move your gaze downward, to inspect how reddened and abused his lower lip looked after your rough treatment.

His hands slid on your wet skin, the water barely resisting his movements as he moved his hands from your waist to the small of your back, finally resting on your ass, gripping it aggressively. In reply, you bent to his neck, closing your lips around the indentation of his collarbone, feeling it with your teeth.

The breathy moan that resulted made you so proud — and so aroused.

“Let’s get out. I wanna...” He moaned as you wrapped your hands around his wrists, leading his palms to your breasts, silently telling him to go back to the gentle massage that complements the heaviness of your bosom and the suction on your nipples, now so acute that it almost resembled a pinching sensation.

You went back to his mouth, still grinding on him, just as he tightened the suction cups even harder on your left nipple, his large palm and fingers holding your flesh as he kept the cup firm with his thumb and forefinger, the other hand spinning the small screw increasing the pressure. “Too tight?” He asked on your lips.

You simply shook your head no, diving back to his lips.

He did the same on your other nipple, your lips parting in a shameless mewl as your clit rubbed with one perfect stroke against his shaft, running through the whole length of it. “Jin.”

“For the love of god, Angel. Please, let’s get out of here.” He spoke with a voice so gruff he had to clear up his throat before he could speak smoothly. “I can’t get inside you like this.”

You kept moving against him, hoping for some relief. “Please.”

He shook his head. “If you let go of me we can get out and do this properly. I can’t do what I want in here.”

“And what is it that you want?” You teased, your hands sliding down his chest and dipping underwater to toy with his hard sex.

“Let me go and I’ll show you.”

Pouting, a bit reluctant, you removed yourself from his lap, looking at him as he stood up in front of you. The position was interesting: you kneeling in the tub while he stood in front of you.

Your mind screamed blowjob and you had no reasonable counterarguments to that, still he stopped you with a hand to your cheek.

“Not here, love. Too risky.” He said, referring to the chances of slipping. He stepped out of the tub, his feet landing on the soft towel he had laid on the ground as he stretched to grab another towel to dry himself up.

Yes, you did stare at his ass as he did so, looking at the taut muscle of his glute and letting your eyes slide further down, to the straight column of his thigh.

As he stood up straight, he quickly dried himself wrapping the towel high on his waist, to try and hide his raging hard on, just a little. The lights of the bathroom were just a bit too bright and he felt a bit wary, even though he understood you had seen him naked and turned on so many times.

Noticing his discomfort you sauntered out of the tub, walking to the mirror and switching on the small light, shortly before heading to the door and switching off the light on the ceiling.

The atmosphere was suddenly completely different. It felt quiet and intimate. Right, even.

“Better?” You asked Jin, walking towards him.

He nodded with a grateful expression. “Yeah. Thank you.” He hugged you to him, frowning a bit at the sensation of the cups against his chest. “Do they hurt? Want me to take them off?” He asked, untucking the towel and looping it around the two of you, dragging you impossibly closer.

“No, I think I can handle it.” You replied. You weren’t new to nipple play. Jin simply loves playing with your tits and he had all kinds of vicious devices to do so, the suction cups being arguably his favourite. You knew that this was just the beginning: cups and clamps and tweezers were only a way of sensitising. This was a mere appetizer to the whole meal that was about to come. Once your breasts felt heavy, sensitive and delicate, he would feast on them, licking them, biting them and using his tongue to tease them as he sucked your pert nipples into his mouth with slow and strong drags. He would knead them, his big hands covering them entirely and squeezing them with attentive rolls of his fingers.

But for now he was simply staring at you, his eyelids low. He looked relaxed.

Your hands wrapped around his torso, slowly working their way down his back. “May I start with my gift?” You blinked at him seducingly as you tried to kneel, your hands reaching the upper curve of his behind.

“Wait. Your knees.” He said, blushing before helping you up, gently inviting you to join him on the small, plush rug in front of the sinks. “Here. It should feel better.”

You looked at him with glimmering eyes. “You just worried about my knees?”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Isn’t that a given?” He asked, hesitant. “We can do it on the floor if you prefer.” He suggested, dubious.

You shook your head, smiling. “I just want to blow you ten times harder.”

He smirked, leaning against the counter and giggling as he observed you licking your lips and slowly lowering yourself on the carpet. Dragging your nails against his abdomen you checked on him quickly. “Is it too cold in here for you?”

Temperature always made him sensitive. “No, it’s nice.” He said, his hands combing your hair back as you kissed his thighs.

“Good.” You replied, your hand flying to his thick erection, swallowing his tip straight away.

“Warn me Angel, would you, goodness — Fuck!” He swore as you started bobbing your head straight away. You knew there was no way you could swallow him, so you simply focused on sucking him hard enough and using your hand to compensate for what your mouth couldn’t do.

Using your drool on him as lubricant, you dragged your palm around the base, wrapping your fingers around him, your thumb and middle fingers barely meeting, and tugging at him energetically, making the muscles of your hands twitch around him, trying to mimick the contractions of your cunt on him, going hard and fast straight away, your goal making him cum as many times as possible.

“Angel, love. Slow down, you’re gonna — Ah!” His sentence was interrupted by your hand coming to his balls, gently massaging them in an attempt to make him completely forget about words and anything that wasn’t your mouth on him.

You dared look up, his throat taut and his head thrown back in pleasure, his hips thrusting into you, his hands toying with your hair lovingly. “So good.” He said as you sank down some more on him, two thirds of him into your mouth. You lasted a couple more seconds before coming up for air.

“Is it relaxing enough?” You asked, extending the strokes of your hand to the tip, working your right thumb over the frenulum and the slit, rubbing it carefully while your left hand took care of the shaft.

He simply moaned in response, thrusting into your fist, patting your hair, trying to keep himself from leading your mouth back on him.

You smiled, “Has your birthday gift been satisfactory so far?” You asked with a grin.

“Absolutely.” He replied with his breathing ragged, his voice hoarse, his vowels dragged a bit long as he spoke slowly, carefully, struggling to put the syllables together.

“We’re all about customer satisfaction.” You replied, smiling innocently as he looked down at you. You licked your lips and kept the eye contact as you brought his tip to your mouth, smearing a small pearl of precum on the seam of your lips, before letting your tongue dart out and lick the salty liquid smeared on your lower lip. And next you licked him, noticing how his eyes blew wide with marvel and curiosity, only to flutter close with arousal and pleasure.

With renewed excitement you sank on him as far as it would go, knowing that even though you were paying attention he was too thick for your teeth not to get in the way with a gentle scratch. Still, you sucked him hard, until he reached the back of your mouth, almost choking on him when you went a bit too fast. Your eyes watered but you went on enthusiastically, helping yourself with your hand.

It was almost too easy. A small squeeze of his balls, matched with a tight downward thrust and his fingers curled into your hair, while the other hand flew away, gripping the sink hard to keep himself from pushing too deep into your mouth. With small, shallow thrusts — completely opposed to the sheer force and pressure he was exercising on his fists —, he fucked your mouth as gently as he could, in true gentleman fashion. No matter how crude and animalistic the action was, he managed to be so gentle throughout all of it, looking so beautiful as he slowly came undone, his legs giving out partly as you detached your mouth from him, only when he had spilt all he had. His knees gradually bent as he slid down against the counter and sank to the floor, on his knees, right in front of you.

His mouth joined yours absentmindedly for a couple kisses, tender and light. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking at your reddened eyes and flushed cheeks. He ran his thumbs down the wet tracks of your tears. “That was… excellent.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I need you to lay down, Angel.”

You looked at him, blinking blankly. “Here?” You asked.

He bent to kiss your neck, suckling at it a little. “Wanna move to bed?”

You shook your head. “I was just surprised.” Following his previous command, you sat on your hip and laid down, your back resting on the plush, cream rug, your legs bent and your knees placed together while the soles of your feet were still planted on the ground.

Crawling, he moved to your feet, holding your calves and making you part your legs.

Your eyes inspected his torso as he crawled on top of you. He bent down and kissed your forehead. “Is it cold?” He asked.

You shook your head.

Nice, he thought, sitting on his heels before his hands moved to your chest. “Let’s take these off, yeah?” He murmured gently as he unscrewed the system tightening the cup to your nipple before stretching to place it on top of the sink. He moved to the other breast, removing it faster this time, as if he were impatient. “Now let’s reward my little Angel.” He smiled at you kindly and that was the moment you knew you were done for. He was going to use you. He had that intense expression that always formed on his face when he played with you, using you for his pleasure. Scooting away from your inner thighs, he made space for his torso, looking at you as he licked a thick, slow stripe up against your slit, reaching your clit, sucking your arousal off your folds and into his mouth, savouring it with small, quiet clicks of his tongue against his palate. “I’m going to place it here.” He said, drawing a circle around your clit.

You nodded like a madwoman, lifting yourself onto your elbows to look at him as he parted your labia, drawing a loose spiral around your clit before placing the cup there, giving just a couple spins on the screw, leaving the pressure fairly mild, but still securing a solid grip.

The sensation was strange, like having your clit tugged but without being touched. Your hips shifted slightly as you got used to the feeling. “How is it?” He asked, attentive.

“Strange. New. Overall good.” You replied, offering him feedback.

“Good. Now, let me use these.” He murmured before placing his forearms beside each of your sides, leaning down to finally kiss your right nipple, then your left one, gingerly.

“Baby,” you moaned slowly, as he shifted his weight again, trying to find a comfortable position to free his hands and place them on you. Balancing his weight on his thighs, he finally managed to place his palms on the flushed skin of your chest, kneading the full curves of it, while his fingers tweaked the two peaks. “Seokjin.”

“Yes, my Angel?” He replied, softer now that you’d spoken his full name.

“It feels so good.” You murmured quietly, eyes closing as your inner muscles contracted, your clit responding to the suction and to the tightening of your inner walls.

“Keep touching them for me, will you, love?” He asked, at which you frowned, confused, almost ready to ask why when you noticed his hands moving to the suction cup, adding a couple spins before he placed his hands on his length.

“Is it okay?” He asked, giving a tentative pump.

Once more you tried lifting yourself up to look at him, your brow furrowing when you didn’t feel him entering you. He looked so beautiful, with his dark, thick eyebrows knitted together, quivering whenever a wave of pleasure rolled down his spine, making his hips undulate forward seducingly.

While your left forearm kept your torso up, your right hand was free to roam over your chest, massaging your right breast with slow tugs drawing all the blood to the peak, for which Jin bent down, his mouth eager to complete your hand’s ministration.

“I’m close again.” He said, with a half delighted, half desperate snicker. His mouth parted wider, his lips settling around your puffy areola, where the cup had left a slight indentation. Freeing your left arm from below you, you tried down as gently as you could.

“Cum on me.” You said, throwing your head back, showing him the fine column of your neck.

He kept rubbing his lips against your sensitive skin as he spoke. “We just washed, you sure?”

“We’ll need to rinse once we’re done with this just the same.” You replied, your hand dipping into his damp hair, pushing his mouth against your boob.

“I love you.” He mouthed before sucking your neglected nipple shortly but intensely. He struggled a bit as he straddled your waist. “I wanna...” He began, before you placed your hands on his hips, pushing him down, making him rest his ass on your stomach, his weight held up mostly by his thighs in an attempt not to squish you. Immediately you took his erection between your breasts, using the slight sheen of wetness left from the bath to help him slide. You knew you had little time before it dried up and everything got uncomfortable. Pressing your boobs together, you matched the long, powerful strokes of his hips, just as his moans started getting higher and higher in pitch, shorter and more desperate, the air in his lungs suddenly feeling not enough. His breath was so shallow when he thrusted out of the small cage of your breasts, his hand moving so, so fast before his left palm landed beside of your head, on the floor, holding him up as he came all over your breasts, whining weakly as he spilled messily, his release reaching your chin and cheek with the first spurt while the others landed more controlledly on your chest and stomach, his hand still milking his cock weakly before he stopped.

His eyes opened just in time to see you collect his cum from your cheek with your fingertip, his ears feeling very hot as you brought the liquid to your lips, cleaning your digit. Next, you lolled your tongue out, trying to reach for the rest of it on your chin and at the corner of your mouth.

Carefully, he tried to stand up, helping himself with the counter nearby. Once he was on his feet, as steady as he could be, he wet a corner of the towel under the tap, sitting at your side to clean you up.

“I’ll be very forward now, Angel.” He said, cleaning your cheek and your chin before moving down between your breasts, dabbing the towel against the stain before swiping away what was left. “I really wanna pound into you on this tiny rug in our lovely bathroom, but if you prefer, we can move to the bedroom anytime you want.” He explained.

You looked at him like you weren’t even sure it was your Seokjin kneeling at your side, your eyes wide as saucers. “Excuse me. You’re the same boy who thought that birthday sex was rose petals, champagne, silk sheets, dimmed lights and background music?”

It was his turn to stare at you with wide eyes. “Did you want that?”

He had fucked up. He was already thinking what to do to fix the situation, trying to imagine what he could do to offer you the whole—

“For the love of god, no. Rail me on the bathroom rug. Please.” You begged, wide eyed and needy, especially when — squeezing your thighs together — you were reminded of the accessory between your legs.

He laughed vivaciously before throwing the towel away, grabbing your knees and making you part them.

“You wanna be railed on the bathroom rug?” He asked, teasing you.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, playful, but also taunting his dormant dominant side.

“How naughty.” He said, splaying his hand on your crotch, his palm snug against your hole while his fingers parted around your clit, the cup sitting between his middle and ring finger. As he settled, kneeling between your bent legs, he applied some pressure, arousing you just like that. “Is that your idea of birthday sex? Getting railed?” He said.

He loved the word. Because it was literally that. Raw and crude and fast. And it drives you insane, which, subsequently, drives him insane.

“I forgot it’s your idea of any kind of sex.” His hand started sliding a few millimetres back and forth, mimicking the sensation of skin brushing against skin like when he moved into you, his pelvis stimulating the outer parts of your sex while his cock plunged deep into you, giving you something thick and long to squeeze with your inner muscles.

“Because you’re dirty like that, uh?” He asked, using his left hand to titillate the cup, the sudden movement causing your clit to shift and your kegels to twitch a few times.

“I’m your dirty angel.” You said, wetness pouring out of your cunt and meeting his palm, suddenly slipping against you.

“You are.” He murmured appreciatively. “Let’s see how long it takes for my Angel to get ready for me.” He said, placing his left forefinger on top of the screw of the suction cup and pushing it around, leading your clit in small circular movements, while his right fingers and palm retracted and, in one fine sleight of hand, his index and middle finger slipped inside you.

“Jin!” You screeched, the invasion too sudden and thorough.

“Don’t worry, my darling angel. I’m just warming you up.” He said with dark eyes, lifting an eyebrow before scissoring his fingers inside.

“So good.” You babbled, your eyes crossing and rolling shut, enjoying the tugging, sucking feeling on your clit, mixed with the slight circular tugs, and then the filling, pumping and spreading sensation of his fingers moving inside. “It’s too good.”

“I know, Angel.” He pressed a kiss to your knee. “It’s too good for little demons like you.” He tugged at the cup a couple times, until it miserably unlocked and fell off.

“No.” You cried out weakly.

“Oh, you prefer the cup to my mouth?” He asked, stopping his transition as he was trying to bring his head close to your lap.

“No. I want your mouth. Please. Use your mouth.” You begged, just as he grinned and bent down, catching your clit with his lips and licking it heavily. The wet feel of his tongue after the dry, vacuum feeling of the toy was exquisite.

“Just another finger, darling.” He said, extracting his digits and rubbing his ring finger up and down your slit, coating it in wetness before he pushed three together and placed them on your entrance, sliding them in slowly.

A slow, quiet cry accompanied his movement, from the moment he slipped the tip in to the moment his knuckles met your flesh. “There you go, Angel. Better get used to it, I’ll give you a couple minutes.” He warned you, before he began tentatively massaging your inner walls with his fingertips, with tiny pumping motions, while at the same time kissing the apex of your labia.

“In, please, now Jin.” You begged.

“You sure?” He asked, parting from your clit hesitantly.

You nodded energetically. “Please.” You repeated, parting your legs further.

Following your lead, he moved his forearm beside your head to prop himself up, his hand pulling out and landing on his erection. He hoped he would last just one more round. Doing multiples like this was not his thing anymore. He snickered.

“What is it?” You asked, looking up at him with a confused glance.

“Just considering that I’m not a teenager anymore. Three rounds is… wow. Long time no see.” He murmured, blushing a little, but still opening up about his fleeting thoughts.

You laughed underneath him. “Indeed.” You said. You considered things a little. “You need more time, love? It’s absolutely okay, you know? It’s late, you’re tired, it’s been a long day.” You said, trying to show him you understood him and there was nothing wrong.

“Don’t worry love,” He said, kissing your neck as he dragged his tip against your slit. “I’m not that old yet.” He said, smirking as he sank in with one slow, thorough stroke.

“Oh my god, Jin, yes.” You moaned as he bottomed out. His hand parted from his sex and reached your mouth, his wet fingers sliding past your lips and laying flat on your tongue. “To help you keep quiet.” He said, before he pulled out and slammed violently into you.

Your muffled cry echoed in the room as he stilled for a second, drawing out slowly before thrusting back in forcefully.

“Like this?” He asked, breath strained as he held himself up. “Wanna be railed like this?”

You shook your head no teasingly, at which he he removed the fingers in your mouth, letting you speak. “Faster, harder.”

He stared into your eyes as he was buried deep inside you. “Then you better keep quiet Angel, because I need both arms for leverage.”

You nodded.

“Legs around my waist, or bend them to your chest and spread them. You choose.” He suggested, settling in his position.

You crossed your ankles behind his back without second thought.

“You good like that, darling?” He asked, using his hand to cup your cheek, at which you nodded, observing his face, the way his hair had almost completely dried by now, how flushed he looked, how his eyelids looked heavy and his eyes lust fuelled and intense. You had no other adjective to describe them but ‘intense’.

“Yes, Jin.” You replied, anchoring your hands on his shoulders.

“Nice.” He said before giving a small stroke, drawing out only partly and then sinking in again.

You bit your lip and gave a small grunt.

“Love you, Angel.” He murmured, running his thumb against your cheekbone.

And like that, he gave up on his human side and set the beast free. His pace was wild, the crude sound of thighs meeting thighs, his crotch slapping against your lap and belly, your breasts bouncing wildly at each of his attacks.

It all unravelled quickly. The sense of fullness inside you and, at the same time, his cock stretching your walls repeatedly and furiously, punching your cervix, and rubbing against your g-spot so deliriously: it was all too much.

“Cumming. Jin, love, I’m— Please.” And with a broken plea you let yourself come undone for him.

And he resisted.

It was tough, but the two previous highs had somehow dulled the edge and he managed to outlive the tight squeezing of your inner muscles.

You were still fucked out when he decided to keep going, enjoying the tightness of your cunt after the orgasm, his hand connecting with the back of your knee, holding it up by his side as he pinned you down, studying your blissful expression before attacking his lips to your left nipple, sucking it. “Touch yourself.” He growled as he felt his end nearing.

“Too much.” You whimpered, screeching.

“Touch yourself.” He growled again, not allowing any opposition.

And like that you obeyed, crying out as your abused, sensitive clit was met by your digit, rubbing it weakly.

“Close. Make yourself cum, Angel.” He ordered gruffly, his voice hoarse and cavernous, oh so serious in his commandeering tone.

“Trying.” You replied, huffing out a stressed breath.

“Faster.” He said, hiking your leg higher up, bending it all the way to your shoulder.

You complied.

His teeth sank at the crook of your neck. “More.” He said, his hips moving in a harsh staccato, taking a small pause between one plunge and the next.

“Not cumming without you. Quick, Angel.” He growled.

He shifted his weight on his other arm, freeing his left and using it to help your other knee up to your shoulder.

His cock felt enormous inside you now that the bent legs made him meet the last few untouched spots inside your cunt. “Fuck, fuck Jin, quick.” You cried out, completely shocked by how deep you could feel it. He arched off of you, pressing even harder against your cervix.

He felt the shift immediately. The wetness left from your previous high and the tightness due to the new position made him shut his eyes tight.

“Jin, please. Hard and fast. please.” You cried out, desperate.

And he delivered.

You lasted maybe a minute before your eyes rolled shut, head thrown back, all your erogenous zones on fire. Your hand shot away from your clit, your breathing stopping out of the blue, your ears suddenly unsensitive to any stimulus, the twitching of your thighs and the trembling of your calves turning into an earthquake before stopping entirely. You froze.

And then Jin’s hand moved between your legs, rubbing your clit a few more times as he delivered the last few strokes, hard and punishing.

Crying out, you threw your hands against him, trying to remove him from your clit, but he fought harder, determined on seeing you toss and thrash below him.

Which you did.

The overstimulation was cruel and drew tears to your eyes, your mouth moving, forming words that your ears couldn’t fully comprehend as your legs shook violently again, your hands gripping his shoulders, sinking your nails in, before slapping at them.

You were just a body spasming against his. Nothing more.

You had no control over yourself.

And Jin hadn’t either.

You collapsed on the rug, trying to open your eyes in vain.

Jin’s body fell on top of yours, pulling out of you delicately. The moment he didn’t hear your protest, he worried. “You okay, my love?” He asked. “Too far?”

He only heard your small grunt.

That made him proud. Fucking you into complete exhaustion was yet a feat he had to accomplish. He could tick a new box on his list. Still, he had to check on you. “I need to hear your voice, my darling Angel.” He said urgently and sweetly.

“Jinnie?” You called weakly.

“Yes, love.” He replied, caressing your cheek.

“What…?” You asked.

“I think your nerves went in a bit of an overload.” He suggested, giggling. “You looked like you were feeling very, very good.”

“I was.” You moaned, wrapping yourself around him.

“Is it a good idea to get a quick shower before we go to bed?” He asked. “Are you feeling strong enough for that?” He asked you, kissing your mouth.

“I might need to move very slowly and be assisted through it.” You said before chuckling.

“Was it a nice birthday railing?” He asked, rolling on his side and sitting up. He was happy the bathroom had floor heating.

“Very nice.” You replied, sitting up yourself. Looking down you bit your lip. “We’ll have to wash the rug.”

He shrugged. “Later. Now let me take care of my little freak.”

And just like that, you were in the shower, washing it all off before he carried you to bed.

He wasn’t sure what made it work, but he did feel relaxed. Accomplished even. He had had beautiful, kinky, rough sex with his girlfriend, with no sense of guilt, no pent up anger, no hard feelings. He felt like he wasn’t really sleeping with you in your room. He felt like you and him were floating on cloud nine, bathing in warmth and moonlight.

It felt like poetry.

He kissed your temple and settled you in front of him, spooning you. “Goodnight, my Angel.” He mouthed against your neck.

You snuggled into his embrace. “Happy late birthday, baby. Goodnight.”

#Seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfiction #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts smut blog #bts fanfic #kim seokjin x reader #bts Jin x reader #jin smut #jin x reader

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

On set visits; Queen x reader x Borhap boys pt. 1

*Author's note*

Alright so this part is broken up into 2 parts so here is the 1st part of the Bohemian Rhapsody film set visit. Part 2 will be up in just a second after I get done with this author's note. So expect some crazy stuff happening, fluffiness and the Rock Angel reminiscing on her past with the boys.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@wormzteef

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@isabella-bby

@onebigfangirlworld

@labessieisallama

@5sos-wdw

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@bohemiansweede

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*Sept. 2017. Filming Bohemian Rhapsody*

I almost couldn't believe it myself. I mean I knew that the boys were planning on a film about themselves and that it was taking them almost 10 years just to get it off the ground. But now after multiple rewrites of the script and better casting, the film was ready to get off the ground.

"So you're absolutely sure I can stop by whenever I feel like it? No matter how many times?" I spoke into my I-phone.

'Absolutely love, just as long as you don't spill any secrets.'

"Please Bri, when have I ever revealed anything to anyone about you guys?"

'Well there was the time—'

"That was a fluck and you know it!" I snapped.

'I'm kidding love, you've never spilled any secrets. You've gotten better at lying lately.' Brian chuckled.

"Well when you say it like that it makes me feel guilty."

'As it should love. So when can we expect you?'

"I'll try to get there before the filming starts, so I may end up going to bed now so that way I can get on the road early enough to beat traffic."

'I know Rog is looking forward to seeing you again.'

"I just did the summer tour with you guys, how could he already miss me?"

'It's a mystery to all of us, but he is your father after all.'

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay well I'll see you tomorrow Bri."

'See you then (y/n). sweet dreams and drive safe tomorrow.'

"Will do. Love you."

'Love you too poppet.' I then hung up and couldn't help but grin.

"You still going over to see them film tomorrow?" I turned and low and behold after a long day's shift there was my husband coming in from his police work.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat threw up." I teased.

"Ha-ha you're hilarious my love." He said as he undid his tie and unbuttoned his short. "So the film's finally taking off the ground?"

"Yep, and they finally found a better Freddie Mercury."

"Yeah cause I remember when you called and told me about Sacha Baron Cohen."

"I just couldn't stand the fact that he was wanting to expose the dark side of Freddie. I mean yeah he had the parties, and the drugs, the sex, but that's all what Rock and rollers did back in those days. Plus that's all he seemed to care about. The scandal that came with Freddie's name, nothing about the music. I'm only just glad Bri sided with me on it." I ranted as Jack came up after taking his shirt and undoing his pants and began to rub my shoulders.

"I know love. You're as protective of this project as Brian and Roger are. So do you know who exactly they got to play Freddie this time?"

"No, but I'll find out tomorrow."

"Okay well, my team's got a heavy lead on the case so I won't really be available tomorrow."

"I understand. Just—promise me you'll be careful my love. I haven't forgotten that one killer that shot you in the line of duty."

"I survived didn't I? Plus now we both have a bullet story to share." He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Not funny Jack." I muttered.

"I know. C'mon let's get some sleep. We both have got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." I nodded and then we both got into bed and we fell asleep.

Early the next morning I was on my way over to the set driving in my own car without a driver. As I approached the set gate of course I was stopped by security.

"Badge and proof of visitation ma'am." I handed him the badge that Roger had sent in for me and some documentation that I needed to show him saying that I was not only visiting but a consultant for the movie to help the actors get to know the true Queen. "Everything checks out Mrs. Kline, here you go and have a good day."

"You too uhh—Marvin." I read his nametag before putting my VIP badge around my neck as the gate opened and I drove on inside.

After about 10 minutes I finally was able to find a parking space. I got out of the car and locked it up before walking towards the set. I was told by Brian that the actors had been prepping for the biggest scene they were going to film, the Live Aid sequence.

When I came around and actually stepped up onto the stage, I was blown away and taken back to the summer of 1985. Jesus they—the production got every single detail down to the paint chippings. The rigged lights that Queen had the day they performed, Roger's kit and the grand piano with Freddie's Pepsi cups filled with beer.

"Oh my god. Jack if only you were here to see this." I muttered to myself. It was then I saw Brian talking to someone but—wait did he? Did he seriously dye his hair back to its original dark curls? I walked up to him but waited till he was done talking to some of the producers. Once he was I tapped his shoulder and he turned around and—oh wow I just....wow.

I don't know whether this is a prank or time travel does exist but I swear I'm literally looking at Brian the day I had met him.

"Okay it's official. I think I have finally cracked." I said as I placed my hand over my forehead.

"I'm sorry ma'am do you need to sit down or can I get you a cup of water?" Oh god he even sounds like Brian.

"Ahhh seems you two have already met. And here I thought I could surprise you." I turned and there was—Brian? My Brian with the grey curls now. Wait what!? What is going on here!?

"What the f—"

"Ah, ah language young lady!" Brian scolded.

"You must be the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline, Brian and Roger have told us a lot about you. Pardon me, Gwilym Lee." He said as he extended his hand to me. I shook it and said in awe.

"Ahhhh, now I see it. Sorry Gwilym dear, never did I think I'd see two Brian's at once. I swear to god you look—exactly like Brian when I met him."

"Anita said the exact same thing. Cheeky woman was even trying to flirt with him." Brian said as he pouted towards the end..

"No she didn't." I gawked.

"I'm afraid it's true." Gwilym said with a blush. I shook my head softly laughing.

"Oh that woman I tell you what."

"Well I can tell you one thing I know a certain someone of the cast who will flip out once he sees you." said Gwilym.

"And just who might that be?" I asked him.

"The young lad whose playing Deacy, Joe Mazzello."

"Kept ranting on and on about your Live Aid performance and how you and Deacy used to interact with each other in your performances together."

"Ahh yes. Me and my dear brother mine." I sighed with a solemn smile.

"I—I'm sorry I-I-I didn't mean to......"

"No, no Gwilym it's fine. While sometimes I do wish he could still be around, I completely understand why he chose to leave the band. Hell without Brian and Rog I—I don't even want to think what I would've done after Freddie died." I soon brushed my sorrows away and said, "Now come here Gwilym I want to get a closer look at you." he came up to me and we stood face to face of each other.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and looked him up and down before cupping each side of his face gently.

"God they chose right for my Brian. I swear, it's like Gwilym is your long lost son Bri." I said as my eyes turned toward Brian.

"I'm beginning to think you might be right." Joked Brian. I stepped back from Gwilym and said to him.

"I can't wait to see the full Live Aid recreation with you all in full costume."

"I hope we do you proud Mrs. Kline."

"First of all, call me (y/n). Secondly, I'm already proud. From what I've heard from Brian and Roger, I have no doubt in my mind that we've entrusted the right group of actors with Freddie's and Queen's upbringing tale to absolute rock gods."

"You flatter us too much (y/n)." Brian gushed.

"Only because you old fossils deserve it." I teased as I stuck my tongue out at him to which Brian did his little eyebrow quirk at me. I giggled softly and continued. "Well before filming starts, I'm gonna continue to look around the set. I'm told the lower decks where all the performers were settled in are just like how they were when we were there. Ciao Brians'." I walked away from them with a wave of my hand.

After exploring more of the set design and going down memory lane it was then I came across another look-a-like. Holding the famed natural Fender precision Bass guitar and wearing that god awful tacky shirt that I secretly wished I had told him not to wear, and having the iconic mushroom fluffy hair was the actor who was playing Deacy, Joe Mazzello.

One of the hair designers was fluffing up the wig to make sure it was up to Deacy's standard. And god just like with Gwilym, Joe was practically identical to Deacy.

It was just like seeing Deacy again back when he was happy and content with where Queen was at, just before finding out about Freddie's illness (which I had found out from Spike several years ago that Deacy had actually known since the last tour Queen ever did with Freddie).

I smiled softly as I watched him get ready for the camera. His wide smile reminded me so much of Deacy's. Slowly I walked up towards him and as the hairdresser looked him over Joe asked.

"So how does it look?"

"I think you look terrific." I said.

"Wait who said—OH MY GOD!!!" he screamed as he turned around and saw me. Like all usual fanboys, he jumped back, his mouth was gaped and his eyes were wide.

"Close your mouth please Joe dear we are not a codfish." His mouth immediately closed.

"Y-you-you-you're....."

"The Rock—"

"Rock Angel." We both said together slowly. "Call me (y/n)." I greeted as I extended my hand out to him and he took it hold of it and shook it.

"I just—I can't believe that I'm-I'm-I'm actually standing beside the Rock Angel." I softly giggled.

"Just know that beyond the glam and the rock star female empowerment, I'm just a normal 55 year old woman."

"But you still look good." He said. I quirked my brow at him so he quickly tried to save himself, "Not that you're old or anything. I mean I don't mean to offend you I just....."

"Joseph. Relax dear. I'm not offended at all. Freddie always said that I would end up being an eternal beauty. At first I thought it was just Freddie being Freddie but as the years have passed I think he—that he must be behind giving me this youthful glow."

"The Rock Angel called me dear," he first gushed with a shy smile. "Sorry I just...... I grew up listening to your albums along with Queen and the first time I saw one of your broadcast performances, I kinda had a little crush on you" He said gently.

"Aww I'm flattered Joe, really I am." I said as I gently cupped the side of his face and gave his cheek a stroke of my thumb. At that point he looked like he was about to melt into a puddle with how much joy he was probably filled with. "Now Joe forgive me for saying this, how long have you been acting?"

"I was a child actor actually. I've—always been in the acting business. Why do you ask?"

"Well besides seeing some of my brother's features I feel like I've—seen you in something before."

"You might recall a little film that came out in the 90's known as Jurassic Park?"

"Wait hold on—you...." I gasped. "You played little Tim Murphy!?!"

"Yes, yes I was Tim Murphy."

"Oh my god. When that film came out my twin boys were literally obsessed with that movie. Would not watch anything else for a full year. They even wore out the old VHS tape we had for it. Oh my god how could I not recognize you sooner?"

"Well I was 8 just turning 9 while we were filming it."

"You had a birthday while filming?"

"Yeah. It was during the kitchen scene with the raptor. I actually got injured on that day."

"What? What happened?" he then proceeded to tell me exactly what had happened. Of how the raptor they used was on wheels and he was running toward the fridge and he was supposed to go left while the raptor was supposed to go right, but the guy controlling the raptor lost control and went the same direction as Joe and he ended up getting hit in the face with a metal claw.

And it was at that moment the director Steven Spielberg and the rest of the crew sang Happy birthday to him.

Then of course he tried to ask Joe at that moment if they could try it again, but when Joe proved he couldn't do it, they wrapped for that day.

"Oh you poor thing."

"It's okay, I survived."

"Well I hope you never suffered an injury like that since then. And on your birthday too? That's never a good birthday present to get a concussion."

"I was cleared out with no concussion, just a little dizzy and a bit of bruising."

"Oh I'm sorry love, it's my inner mother instincts kicking in."

"She always was an overprotective mother." We both turned around and I saw Roger walking up sporting the black beanie I gave him for Christmas last year and another actor who was sporting the Roger Taylor look he had for Live Aid.

"Oh look who's talking smother father! For years since I've known you you've been the definition of helicopter parent." I gawked at him. "You still sometimes even threaten Jack with missing out on our dates cause of our jobs."

"And I've always told you that boy would be trouble one day." He teased as he came up to me.

"Wow so it is actually true, you guys do look at each other as father and daughter." Said the young actor playing Roger.

"Yes Ben, my adoptive daughter (Y/n) Kline, otherwise known as the Rock Angel." Roger introduced.

"So you're the young actor playing my main father figure eh?" I said as I looked at the young man.

"Yes. Ben Hardy, it's a real honor to meet you in person Mrs. Kline. To say I was nervous to meet Roger is nothing compared to the thought of meeting you."

"Are you saying I'm intimidating and unapproachable?" I asked offendedly.

"Wha? No! No! God no I-I-I-I didn't mean it that way I was just...." I interrupted him with a laugh and said.

"Dear, relax. I was just pulling your leg."

"And be thankful she was. Otherwise, I'd beat your arse boy for insulting my daughter." Roger protectively stated.

"See there you go you old hypocrite. Besides Rog you haven't been able to kick anyone's arse in years. Don't want you breaking a hip now do we?" I mocked him.

"You're lucky these boys are here little missy." Roger scolded me.

" Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now then Ben, you were once on EastEnders right?" I said turning my attention back toward Ben.

"Yes. I played Peter Boyle on the show. My recent film before this was the new X-Men movie that came out about a year ago. X-Men Apocalypse."

"Ahh yes, my youngest son is always obsessed with all the superhero films. Marvel or DC. Now I'd like to see you two more closely, stand together." Both Joe and Ben followed orders and I looked both of them up and down.

Circling around them before cupping each of their faces once by one. And yes Ben was a bit more muscular than Roger was and of course they didn't get his hair right for this part in time, but there was just something in Ben's eyes that just made me think back to the first day I met Roger.

That sparkle of mischief but also protectiveness that shown through those blue eyes of his.

"That is most definitely my Roger. You both have the same spirit in your eyes. I can't wait to see how you play the drums up on that stage."

"Yeah, me neither." He said with a hint of nervousness. I then went over to Joe and cupped his face too. Just—my god just like with Deacy the profile was just uncanny. Of course, Deacy's eyes were more of a hazel type while Joe's were like a brownish type color. But I couldn't deny he looked so much like my brother. "And you my dear Joseph. Gwilym isn't the only one to resemble the man he's playing."

"It was kinda scary after getting the wig on. So much so that I called my mom and asked her what she was doing in 1983?" I laughed and said as I took my hands away from his face.

"Unfortunately, I can tell you for a fact that John Deacon is not your father. The only lady he's ever loved and will love is Veronica."

"I know." I chuckled softly.

"Now then Joe if you'll come with me there's important things I need to discuss with you."

"Like what?"

"You'll see. It was wonderful to meet you Ben, I hope we can get to know each other better later after you all film the Live Aid concert."

"Yeah of course, it was wonderful to meet you Mrs. Kline."

"Please call me (y/n). Dad you better not be too hard on this one, I like him."

"Don't worry I won't break him too much." The four of us went our separate ways.

Joe and I arrived at my trailer (all thanks to Rog and Bri). We entered inside and I told Joe to take a seat. He sat down on my couch while I went over to the kitchen.

"Tea?"

"Yes please. One sugar please."

"Just like how he liked it." I muttered to myself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing love, nothing." I prepped the tea for him and once it was done I handed him his cup and he thanked me. I watched him take a sip and he said,

"Ahh never gets old. I'm telling you after this I may just be the biggest tea fan ever."

"It is good for the soul. I myself have always found Jasmine to be the way to nirvana." I paused for a brief moment before saying, "Joe." He looked at me giving me his full attention, "As you know probably from weeks of research and maybe even from Roger and Brian themselves, Deacy chose to exempt himself from all forms of stardom. To live a quiet life with his family."

"Yeah. When I first got the part I did reach out to him on just any personal advice on certain quirks that he did. Cause even though I've played real life people before, this is the first time I'm playing someone whose still alive, and I wanted to do him justice."

"Yes, quite."

"However all I got back was just that he approved of the project and just for me to take it as any other actor would. Not that I'm saying that I'm mad at him for saying that. But I just—"

"I get it. Really I do." I took his hand and gripped onto it comfortingly. "Look. Ever since Freddie died, Deacy has been—grieving. Just like he did for me, it was Freddie who helped bring Deacy out of his shell and become more involved with the band. Not just being the bass player or the quiet guy."

"The King of the one liners, the tie breaker of Queen." Joe stated.

"Yes, although John could be loud and rowdy when he wanted to. He was definitely Queen's wildcard, but he was also their Ace. Unpredictable but incredibly brilliant. Never have I met a bass player quite like him. Nor do I think I ever will." It was quiet for what felt like forever when Joe asked me.

"Do you—do you still speak to him? I mean, cause I read that you both basically grew up close together, even for being 11 years apart from each other."

"Yes. We actually lived 20 minutes from each other back in our youth. He was and will always be my brother mine." I sighed heavily. "And to answer your question, I must remind you he's always been.....a cautious subject to me. Any remembrance of Freddie just makes him break, and as I'm sure you've seen from my concert footages I, sometimes, subconsciously find myself doing some Freddie movements on stage. Whether it's flicking my wrist like he did, strutting around the stage or waving my arms like he did. Deacy's.....he knows those things. But he's always there for me when I needed him. The last time was—on the tragedy of 9-11."

"Wait you mean....."

"Jack's cousin Jared and his wife Gen, they—they were on the plane that was overtaken by the terrorists. Took five days to finally find their bodies. Jared holding Gen in his arms. It was a risk but—I knew Jack needed more support than just his American family. So he and I went over to John and Veronica's place. We went at the early mornings of course just so that way no one would spot us driving in midday and try to track us down, then at sunrise we walked up to the door and—there he was. When Jack told him what had happened, he—actually invited us in and allowed us to stay the entire time. He ended up being the right support Jack needed."

"Your husband and John were close?"

"Oh yes. More alike than you know. Both incredibly talented bass players. That's how Jack got Deacy's approval when Jack and I started hanging out. He even gave my husband private lessons."

"Wow."

"Yes. They were practically inseparable the two of them for that summer. Even during their rehearsals, you would see Deacy go in the corner and practice what riffs he'd teach my Jack next. However that was the last time I ever actually saw Deacy, 16 long years ago. Haven't gotten in contact with him since. But occasionally, at least according to Brian, he asks them how I'm doing as well as Jack."

"I hope he's living a quiet and happy life with his kids and wife."

"I know they are. I still keep in contact with Ronnie whenever I can, sometimes we go out shopping, fawn over grandchildren pics, and just catching up. She was the mother I needed when I first had Kelly."

"Sounds like she was the ultimate mama."

"You have no idea." I felt Joe place his free hand on top of mine that still had his. I smiled softly at him before I got down to the real reason why I brought him here. "Joseph, now I know that when it comes to acting, Hollywood can pick whomever they deem worthy for a role, especially if it's for a real person. I'll be honest with you; hearing your American accent puts me a little on edge. Cause I have heard some pretty bad English accents on screen that just make me want to pull my ears off agonizingly slow. Now I know Deacy has probably the most unique accent from anyone in Leicester, I mean you hear my accent and I sound nothing like his dialect. So what I want to ask of you, just for the sake of you playing my brother, may I hear you speak with John's accent?"

"What-what would you like me to say?"

"Maybe say what you did for the audition. Or anything that comes to your head. It doesn't even have to be an interview Deacy did, I just want to hear your accent." He nodded before sitting back on the couch while I leaned back on the chair.

He adjusted himself before finally miming that he was driving a car before he finally spoke about when Deacy first joined the band. The one interview he did during the 'News of the World' tour with Bob Harris.

I felt like at that moment my heart had stopped. My hands slowly covered my mouth in a prayer style while the corner of my eyes watered. And sure there were certain words that he said that still sounded American but—this was my brother. I....I was actually looking at my brother right now. They got it right.

By the end of it, Joe looked at me and his eyes grew concerned as he said.

"Did I screw up?" I stood up from my chair in silence. I then walked over to him and knelt down in front of him cupping his face. A wide smile spread across my face as I immediately hugged him and softly sobbed.

"You are my Deacy! My brother mine." I then felt him embrace me back and the two of us rocked side to side. I looked up to the heavens praying that Fred was looking down knowing he would've loved Joe playing his Deacy. "If you ever need any advice or help, I'm here for you. Promise me Joe Mazzello that you will come to me with anything regarding Deacy."

"I promise (y/n)." he still spoke with Deacy's accent which filled me with both sorrow and happiness.

We stayed that way for god knows how long. After composing myself, we left my trailer when one of the volunteers came up to us and said.

"Joe, they're ready to start filming the concert."

"Shall we go on?" I asked.

"Yes, let's." God he had my brother's quick wit already. He crooked his arm out which made me grin softly. I looped my arm through his and the two of us walked on towards the Live Aid stage.

I stood alongside Roger, Peter Freestone (Freddie's former assistant and the other consultant for the film) as well as Brian's youngest daughter Emily (who in every way was so much like her father from the hair to the smile).

"I think this will be a great shoot, don't you think (y/n)?" asked Peter.

"Indeed Pheebs. And I'm sure Freddie would've loved to have seen it."

"He would indeed." He said as he wrapped an arm around me and soon Brian came and stood beside us after being backstage with the young actors who then came out just as Queen did that day back in 85. When I saw the young actor playing our Freddie, I was already impressed.

Sure he was skinnier than Freddie was, but seeing him move about just as Freddie did it was like I was seeing Freddie right before my eyes. The boys got into position and soon began to perform the entire Live Aid concert.

Besides actually being there and seeing them perform from the wings that day over 30 years ago, this was about the greatest concert performance I had ever seen.

The boys in full costume had everything down. Gwilym channeled Brian's solo on Bohemian Rhapsody, Ben was pretty impressive on the drums, Joe had Deacy's rhythmic moves down, and the young man playing Freddie he—it was beyond what I could imagine. He wasn't just moving like Freddie, it was like he knew why Freddie would move a certain way to a song.

I was in awe cause it felt like I had actually traveled back in time and was watching Queen's most historical performance once again. I stood behind Brian and wrapped my arms around his shoulders leaning up against his head smiling from ear to ear, I felt Brian take one of my hands and gently patted it every now and then.

When the Aye-Oh's happened I could help but lowered my head and holding my laughs of joy. I swear when this is over, I need to talk to this new actor playing Freddie cause unlike Sacha, this was our Freddie. Soon Hammer to Fall came on and I couldn't help but bop my head along to the song.

I felt a tap at my shoulder and I turned to see Emily holding her phone out with the notes app open. In the app it read.

'Is this how you remember it Aunt (y/n)?' I walked towards her and gestured for me to have her phone. She handed it to me and I typed out.

'Everything and more. God I wish your cousin Kelly could've been here to see this as well as your uncle Jack. They would've loved it.' I showed her my message and she came up and wrapped her arms around my shoulders as the two of us smiled happily up at the stage.

When Hammer to Fall concluded, the extras and even me and team Queen applauded. I let out a loud whistle from the sidelines as I applauded and took pictures with my own phone to show Jack and the kids later. Now I recall that it was at this time the guys ended up surprising me and the world with our duet "Set it all free" instead of the planned 'Crazy Little thing called love'.

Now I've been skeptical about having a biopic film about me, even though I knew both Queen and Elton were starting theirs at the same time, hell one of the producers Dexter Fletcher is currently directing Elton's film 'Rocketman' as we speak right now. So I didn't know if they would plan to do Crazy little thing or if they'd go the set as it was all those years ago.

I got my answer however when Ben started to play the drum intro to my song.

"You guys didn't." I muttered.

"We wanted to be historically accurate with the Live Aid set." Brian started.

"So we cooked up a little surprise for you." Roger said. It was then I heard the actor playing Freddie began chanting out along with the audience "An-gel! An-gel! An-gel!" it was then I saw a young girl come out and—by god it was like looking at my younger self from that day.

She was dressed exactly how I was with a pregnant belly suit underneath her shirt. Her hair was designed the same way as mine was, everything just took me back. Instead of a playback that the Freddie actor was using for all the singing, this young woman was actually singing and she had a pretty good voice.

I continued to watch in awe as the young woman basically became me doing each step or movement I did that day on Live Aid. I felt Brian and Roger wrap their arms around me as I couldn't even take my eyes off the young woman up on stage. I could hear the extras singing out the lyrics, even some of the crew members were bopping their heads and singing along.

She walked across the stage at the second verse right towards the Freddie actor and just like Fred and I did, they stood forehead to forehead singing the duet before she walked back out and went back to center stage. When the guitar solo came on, my eyes turned to Gwilym and he amazed me that he actually could do my hard rock solo.

After the song was over, the crowd applauded and cheered and I turned to the guys and hugged them and whispered into their ears.

"If this is you guys way of trying to get me to sign onto a biopic film......I'm highly considering it after seeing her."

"We'll introduce you later." Said Roger as we separated from the hug and we turned our attention back to the guys as We Will Rock you now began playing. I couldn't help myself by stomp my feet to the rhythm and mouth out the words.

I was just amazed by not only Gwilym's guitar playing but also the young man who moved just like how I remembered seeing Freddie move, using the mic stand as Fred always did (the cheeky man), even the facial expressions that he made were exactly like they were.

It wasn't until when 'We are the champions' came on that I could barely hold my tears in. Seeing not only Fred's actor but my actor singing the famed Queen anthem that has literally been played in every victory sport or award winning singing competition.

Seeing the two of them interact with each other, it was pure nostalgia.

By the end of the song, tears welled up in my eyes and I looked toward the heavens hoping that Freddie could see this and running through my mind I already knew what he'd say.

"Amazing jobs my darlings, not as fabulous as me but very, very close." When the extras and even some crew members cheered, Brian, Roger, Peter, Emily and myself all applauded and cheered for the boys and that's when the director called cut.

"This.....is gonna be a great movie." I said.

"I think so too. After just seeing them come together like that, I think we've finally casted the right people to play us." Said Brian.

"I agree you two, I'm liking what I've just seen so far." Roger said.

"And—I'm sure he would've liked this too." I said solemnly. I felt Roger gently rub my back and Brian said.

"I know he would."

After a few more takes of filming the Live Aid concert, the director said that it was enough for today. I walked around the set to find the producer Graham King and when I approached him I asked him.

"Graham tell me, who's the young man you got to play Freddie?"

"Oh his name is Rami Malek. His recent project was a show called Mr. Robot."

"Ahh yes I've heard of that, my Freddie is obsessed with that show. Never misses an episode."

"When we were casting Freddie I happened to come across an episode and when I saw him I—just thought I was looking at Freddie. So we brought him in, he gave us a mock interview as well as an audition that your boys saw when they first met him. And from then on it just fell into place. Do you approve of him? Is there a problem Mrs. Kline?"

"Absolutely not. Do you know where I can find Rami at right now?"

"Probably in hair and makeup getting undressed."

"Well, when he is done would you be so kind as to bring him to my trailer?"

"Of course (y/n)." I nodded in gratitude and walked off to my trailer.

I sat there once again on the chair looking through an old photo album. Each picture held a deep and personal memory for me, I thought back to the day that each picture was taken and remembered exactly what was going on at that very moment.

A knock was soon heard at my trailer. I composed myself with a deep exhale and said.

"Come in." the door opened and there without costume or the tache was Rami Malek.

"Graham said you wanted to see me Mrs. Kline?"

"Yes Rami, love please come in." he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "Take a seat." I gestured towards the couch. He sat right where Joe had sat down earlier this morning and I said. "Would you care for a biscuit, or as Americans call them cookies?"

"Uhh yes please." I smiled and handed him a tray of biscuits I always kept around me (hey a woman's gotta have her sweet tooth fix right?) and handed him my best plate of chocolate chip cookies (all thanks to my mother in law's secret recipe). He thanked me as he took one and took a bite out of it. "Mmm. Oh my god," he cleared his throat and closed his mouth before finishing the biscuit up. "This is so good."

"Thank you, it was my mother in law's secret recipe. She passed it onto me shortly before Kelly was born." He took another bite of it and swallowed that piece before saying as he set it down on a napkin that I had also provided.

"What-what was it you needed to see me for Mrs.—"

"Before we continue, I'll ask you to call me the same way I've asked the other three of the band to call me. Call me (y/n)."

"Yes of course, (y/n). What was it you wanted to see me for? Is it to talk about what you saw out there? Did I screw it up already?"

"No, no dear relax. This is nothing in the way you're thinking." I saw him take a sigh of relief.

"Oh good. Cause I know I obviously wasn't the first choice for the job."

"In my books Rami, you should've been the first one to be called for the role."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, but first there's a couple of questions that I want to ask you that Brian and Roger might not have asked you, and I want you to answer them as Freddie would've."

"Okay." I smiled softly and stood up from my seat as I set the phot album aside.

"Who is Queen not without?"

"That's easy. It's you darling. There's no Queen without their beloved Rock Angel, and no Rock Angel without her four aging Queens." I felt my heart clench at hearing Rami speak with a British tone. The softness of his voice almost sounded identical to Freddie's voice. I turned towards him and walked towards the kitchen area of my trailer.

"Who is it that you trust the most?"

"Mary. Mary is the one I trust the most. For she knows me like no one else ever will." I reached the kitchen and rested my hand against the island.

"Who are you?" Rami looked at me before finally answering something that would forever stun me.

"I've been asked that all my life. By my family, student peers, professors, the entire world. I've been told who I should strive to be but I say fuck what they say. They don't define me. No, I decided who I am. I'm going to be what I was born to be. A performer who gives the people what they want." He pointed towards the ceiling as he whispered, "touch of the heavens." He dropped his hand before finally answering, "Freddie Fucking Mercury."

My lips quivered and I ducked my head as tears began falling down my face for—god knows how many times right now.

"Oh (y/n) I—I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry, I—did I say something wrong?" Rami said urgently as he stood up and stood in front of me.

"No." I choked out. I sniffled and that's when he handed me a tissue. Oh ever the kind gentleman and concerned about my wellbeing, just like Freddie was. "No you—you've prove to me that you know just who Freddie truly was."

"Didn't want to be put in a certain category or be stereotyped." He said. I nodded as I wiped my tears with the tissue he had given me.

"For as long as I have known Freddie, especially to his last, various people have chosen one of two sides. There's the one side that the press made him out to be. The one that-that—bastard Cohen wanted to portray Freddie as. The wild, crazed, homosexual drug addict. That he deserved what he had gotten because he was so reckless and stupid. That AIDS was his form of suicide. Never did I want to punch and murder so many people. Every time I got asked about whether Freddie's death was his own fault, I just wanted to rip the interviewer apart."

"I can see why. I bet a lot of true fans and the people who knew Freddie well would've done what you've felt like doing."

"But people like you Rami, who understand that Freddie wasn't just a frontman or greatest performer to ever live. That he did come from a harsh background but rose above all the trials and tribulations that came his way to define himself as he sought out to be. That's why he was my biggest idol." I grabbed the photo album and sat down on the couch and opened it up taking out a picture that was always a favorite of mine.

It was a picture that Deacy took of Freddie and I together just after my very first performance as the Rock Angel at Madison Square Garden. Fred's arms wrapped around me as he had picked me up, huge wide smiles were spread across our faces. I felt a dip on my left side I looked up to see Rami sitting close beside me. He looked down at the picture before saying.

"Was this your first performance?"

"Yes. Out of four members of Queen, it was Freddie Mercury who truly believed that I could make a name for myself in the industry. Taught me everything there was into getting the self-confidence I needed to get up on that stage. Sure we had our ups and downs, but through all the falls we had, he never gave up on me. He gave up on no one that he loved. And Rami," we looked at each other and I told him the utmost truth, "If he were alive today, he would've loved you."

He smiled as I gently touched his cheek and the two of us looked through my photo album of every picture Freddie and I took throughout the 11 years I knew him.

At the end of the day, just before the four boys left to go hang out at a pub nearby, I stepped in and offered.

"Why not have dinner over at my place boys?"

"Oh we couldn't impose." Said Joe.

"Nonsense Joe, I insist and I won't take no for answer. Plus it'll be a more homely environment. You boys can't live on catering and pub foods for the next several months to a year. No I absolutely won't have it."

"Best go along with her boys, she got her persuasion from the best there was." Roger added in.

"Well—if you think it's a good idea." Said Gwilym.

"Of course it is. Now come on, you four can fit in my car. Let's go. Meet you there Brian and Roger?"

"We'll be right behind you love." Said Brian. I gestured the boys to follow me to my car. Ben sat up in the passenger seat, Joe sat behind him, Rami was in the middle and Gwilym sat behind me. I turned the engine on and told everyone to buckle up (mama instincts what can I say?) and we pulled out of the gate and I drove us on home.

"So (y/n), what other kind of music do you listen to?" asked Joe.

"Whatever song has a good voice and a good beat, with no autotune I will love. You can look through my Spotify and see what I have." Ben took my phone out of the phone holder and turned around as Joe took over the controls and went to my Spotify.

"Wow there are a lot of songs. And I thought you would've just stuck with what you grew up on."

"Unlike most rockstars like Roger who think everything after 1979 basically became trash music with the rise of pop or as they called it 'disco'. I'm a little more open minded. But I deny all songs that use explicit language every three words, degrading women, or promotes violence."

"You even got some old Christina Aguilera songs on here?" asked Rami.

"Who do you think helped produce her?"

"Shut the front door. You produced Christina Aguilera?"

"Yeah. I even gave her rights to a song that I wanted to do. But even singing it brought back some old wounds. So since I was helping her produce her album at the time, I turned to song over to her."

"What song was it?" asked Ben.

"Fighter."

"Shut up! That was literally my jam."

"I can attest to that. Throughout the filming of The Pacific, he would never shut that song off when getting into Eugene's character for certain episodes." Rami rose his hand.

"Yeah. I have an entire playlist of some songs I helped produce or make. You can play that playlist if you'd like. Or my typical playlist my boys best songs."

"I think in the light of our first day filming, we should go with Queen. What do you guys say?" Joe asked.

"Agree."

"Yep."

"Oh yeah."

"Aright then Joe, we'll each pick our favorite Queen song. You're up first little Tim." He grinned and scrolled through my playlist until Somebody to love came up on the speakers. "Read my mind Joseph." The piano began playing and that's when I vocalized alongside Freddie and the five of us began singing the song at the top of our lungs.

The entire car ride contained each of us picking our top favorite songs. Ben did 'White Queen' which I commended on him cause people nowadays tend to forget the old Queen songs, Gwilym picked Love of my Life, Rami chose Radio Gaga, and I, of course chose Bohemian Rhapsody.

Thanks to Wayne's world (yes I saw the movie and yes it was silly but just the opening scene alone made the movie worth watching) we basically did the same motion by motion that those boys did in the film when the operatic section came on. And of course when the headbanging rock out came on, the boys proceeded to bang their hands while I did mine not as aggressively (responsible driving kids!)

We continued to rock out to the song and it wasn't until by the end of the song that we soon arrived at my home. I pulled the car up into the garage and hit the clicker button which opened up the garage door and I pull inside just as the last line came up and Roger's gong rang off. I shut the engine and said.

"Here we are boys, welcome to casa de la Kline." We all exited out of my car and right behind us as scheduled were Brian and Roger with Bri getting out of the driver's seat. "Bout time you two got here, I was beginning to worry that I'd need to call in an ambulance."

"We're old dear, not dead." Roger sassed at me.

"But I still love you old coots. Just like I said all those years ago."

"That I do remember, the day right after you got so shitfaced after your 21st birthday. You remember that Brian?" Roger said.

"Indeed I do Rog, I even remember what we did to her to get her to apologize, think we need to do it again?"

"That might have to be arranged."

"Oh no you guys don't! We're not doing that now, now let's get inside before we all catch a cold." I guided them all inside. Once we stepped through the backdoor of the garage I could already smell something cooking, and I knew who exactly was cooking at this rate. "Baby! I'm home!" I called out from the hallway.

We turned the corner and soon came to the kitchen where a young man of 19 (going on 20 in a couple months) stood by the oven. He shut it off and turned around. He was every bit like his father when I first met him back in '83, but he had my eyes. When he saw me, he softly smiled and I came up to him.

"Sorry I didn't call in advance telling you that we would have more guests than your uncles."

"No worries mom. You know I've always cooked way more than I should." I smiled and cupped his face and we kissed each other's cheek. "Uncle Brian, uncle Roger."

"Hello Fred." Brian greeted.

"Hey lad, how's school been?"

"Oh you know, NYU's a challenge but I manage." He then directed his attention towards the young actors but when he eyes landed on Rami, he quickly grabbed my arm and whispered to me. "You didn't tell me you'd be bringing Rami Malek to our house!"

"Again slipped my mind." I teased him.

"Mom how dare you bring my celebrity crush here without telling me, look at me I'm a mess."

"Oh you're fine. Now best behavior." I wrapped an arm around my son and said. "Boys, this is my youngest son Freddie Mercury Kline. Fred, these are the boys that will be playing your uncles. This is Joe Mazzello, he'll be playing your uncle Deacy. Ben Hardy who's playing your old uncle Roger."

"Watch it lion cub." Rog warned me. I gave him a cheeky look before continuing the introductions.

"Gwilym Lee will be playing your uncle Brian, and you know Rami, he'll be playing the man you were named after."

"Uncle Freddie?"

"Yes. And—from what I've seen so far, you'll finally get to meet him through the screen."

"I don't doubt that. I'm a big fan of yours Rami, your role in Mr. Robot has been—amazing."

"I'm honored."

"Alright since we've all had a long day today, let's get some grub. Everyone grab a plate." I grabbed some extra plates from the cabinet and handed four plates out to the actors and we all assembled around the island to grab a piece of lasagna, peas, mashed potatoes with gravy and Hawaiian rolls.

Once we gathered around the table I set out the iced tea Jack had made a couple of days ago as well as some champagne or wine. "Okay guys, before we dig in I want all hands on deck." I extended my hand out.

Freddie immediately placed his hand on top of mine, Brian and Rog soon followed after and it was then Rami, Gwilym, Joe and finally Ben placed their hands on top.

"Thank you for this family, thank you for this meal. Thank you for this day. It'll be a wild ride, but I feel this movie will soar, and—that this new family will forever stay." I said ending the traditional family prayer. The young actors looked at me with warm eyes and soft smiles.

"Alright, let's dig in. You boys will never eat the same way again once you taste (y/n)'s cooking." Roger said.

"That bad?" joked Joe. I gawked at the young cheeky actor.

"On the contrary she's the best chief on this side of London. Even when she was an intern she made us this one Christmas pudding that was to die for." Brian spoke on my behalf.

"It's true. She put all the other PTA mom's to shame when it came to my school's bake sales." Freddie said as he took a bite of his lasagna.

The entire dinner was filled with talks about our lives, stories and embarrassing moments in life. Not a single person was excluded from a conversation. After dinner, Rami and Gwilym helped Freddie with the dishes while I got some other scrapbooks out and bonded a bit with Ben and Joe about my time with Rog and Deacy.

"Now this Joe was taken during my first Japan tour. At the very garden where Queen went to near the Tokyo tower, Deacy refused to let me leave without having a cherry blossom crown."

"He seems to be doing good in the picture."

"Except one twig got so tangled in my hair it literally took 15 minutes just to get it out." We both laughed before I turned the page and found a great picture of me and Roger. "Now this picture Ben, both Roger and I have this picture, this was taken after my first Hyde Park performance."

"She performed to an audience of half of what Queen did when we performed at Hyde Park." Roger spoke.

"She could've performed for more but times changed and better security measure for the public's safety prevented it from happening again." Brian added.

"One thing's for sure, I was damn well proud of her for performing at her biggest crowd at the time just barely two years into her career." Roger spoke again. I looked up and winked at him.

"You guys really do have that father-daughter bond don't you?" Joe said.

"Have ever since she gave me the real 1 and 3/7th's sugar."

"It wasn't until Brian told me the next day that Roger just says that to pull people's leg. God I felt embarrassed after that."

"Aww lovie, but it was due to that I became your favorite. And I don't regret it as I'm sure you don't."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." As Gwilym, Rami and Freddie came back in I continued going through the scrapbook sharing my photos of my days with Queen with the boys, and allowing Freddie to finally hear all the stories that he was denied cause of my grief.

As the night got darker and darker, the young actors at this moment were so full of food and exhausted from a long day's filming they actually passed out along my living room. Joe and Ben cuddled up on the couch, Rami asleep on the recliner, while Gwilym was curled up along the loveseat.

Meanwhile I was watching over them and couldn't help but think it was like seeing my boys all over again. I remember back when I was still an intern and would see the guys all passed out whether at Freddie's parties or in the studio, I always had to provide the guys comfort (which I never minded). So seeing these four young men passed out just brought me a sense of nostalgia.

"I got the spare blankets mom."

"Thank you dear. Your uncles tucked in the spare bedrooms?"

"Uncle Brian's in the room across yours and dad's and uncle Roger is in Georgie's old room."

"Good boy." I then proceeded to cover up and adjust the young actors. I wrapped both Joe and Ben in the same blanket and closed Joe's mouth gently so that he wouldn't drool in his sleep, followed by giving them each a soft kiss goodnight. Without trying to wake him up, I uncurled Gwilym from his pretzel position and covered him up.

I gingerly stroked through his hair before placing a soft kiss to his temple. He groaned and lifted his head up which allowed me to place a pillow underneath him. He hummed in content as he snuggled into it. I then went over to Rami and adjusted the seat so that he would be more comfortable. Pressing the button on our automatic recliner, his legs slowly rose up before finally stopping in full recliner mode.

I tucked him in while looking down at him. God even without the tache it was like looking at Freddie from when I first met him in person at a concert, long before I became an intern. I gently kissed his cheek before faintly stroking his cheek.

Sitting outside along the deck, Freddie and I were looking up at the stars.

"So you think this movie's gonna be a hit?"

"Critics are always hard to please, no matter if it's music or movies. From what I've read of the script yes there's misinformation but that's why it's called a biopic. There's some truth but it's the touch of Hollywood in order to make the film not a boring documentary. But those four boys, they are just how I remember your uncles being when I not only worked with them, but grew up with them hearing their music."

"I wish I had gotten the chance to meet uncle Freddie." Fred said after a brief moment of silence. I turned to him to see him looking down sadly.

"So do I love. He would've loved you as much as he did your brothers and sister. And he would've been over the moon had he found that I had named you after him." I brought my baby close and he wrapped his arms around me as we both looked up at the moon and the stars together.

The star right by the moon glowed the brightest, the very same star that shined just as bright the night after the tribute concert we did back in '92. I couldn't help as a tear slid down my face and a smile spread across my face.

I knew that it was Freddie's star, telling me that he was watching us and that he was proud.

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marvelyningreen · 3 years

Text

Aftershocks - Night 1

Night 1 | Night 2 | Night 3 | (deleted scene)

[Summary: Peter Maximoff is an unflappable sorta guy. He’d never let anything get to him before, and this recent misadventure will be no different. ...Right?

Warnings: mild language, references to injury, general trauma-related angst

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader, of the established relationship variety. A ‘what if Fietro really was Peter?’ scenario. Same continuity/reader character from Linger and Late-bloomer. ]

On your first night back from Westview, you hesitate at Peter’s door. You’ve gotten so close to saying goodnight to each other half a dozen times, but here you still are.

“Why don’t you stay for a while?” Peter asks after an awkward few seconds of silence. “I’m not really all that tired. Are you?”

“Not really,” you lie.

Judging by the dark circles under Peter’s eyes, he’s not being entirely honest either.

It was late afternoon when you’d gotten back. Well, it was late afternoon here, at least. The passage of time in Westview was nebulous, to say the least.

Hank had been there to meet you when you all emerged from the portal – Peter, yourself, Mr. Lehnsherr and the professor, and the newcomers: Wanda Maximoff and her twin sons, Billy and Tommy. Hank summarily hurried you all off to the lab for debriefing, and also for a precautionary exam. Who knew what side-effects there could be from traveling between realities?

None, as it turns out. Wanda and the boys were just fine. Peter was a little dehydrated and underfed, but was otherwise in good health. You were ultimately the most scuffed-up from the experience.

In addition to the same issues as Peter, you’d amassed a fair amount of cuts and scrapes and bruises. Thankfully, the worst of it is just a badly sprained knee that’ll take several weeks to heal. Inconvenient, but bearable.

Peter has been pretty positive the whole time. If anything, he’s maybe a little too chipper, all things considered. But then again, he was immersed in playing cool uncle to the twins, and was probably just trying to keep their spirits up. They’d been through quite a lot, too.

“You should at least try to sleep, though,” you say, as you limp into Peter’s room.

Peter scoffs good-naturedly. “Are you trying to baby me?”

“Well, one of us has to be the responsible one.”

Peter rolls his eyes. Before you can blink, he’s changed into shorts and an old Pink Floyd t-shirt. He leans in to kiss you.

“I’ll try to sleep if you’ll at least sit down,” he says. “Deal?”

You smile. “Deal.”

As Peter climbs into bed, you settle yourself on the sofa. To say that it’d been a long few days would be understating things to a criminal degree.

You’d stepped through a mysterious portal to rescue Peter from wherever he’d been abducted to. You’d found that the culprit was a witch who’d taken him in an attempt to steal the power of another witch, and that witch is an alternate reality version of Peter’s sister… sorta? Or maybe not. You still aren’t completely clear on how any of this works.

Regardless, you’d ended up helping a woman named Captain Rambeau – who has powers like a mutant, but apparently isn’t one – to free Peter from the witch’s control. And then the young sons of Peter’s not-sister were in danger from some military creep, because said military creep had apparently made a cyborg zombie version of Wanda’s late husband.

Or something. Again, this was a lot to take in in a short period of time.

And no sooner had the business with magic and the military been cleared up than the professor and Mr. Lehnsherr appeared, intending to serve as backup. Luckily, there was no need.

Peter went to make his goodbyes and, in true Peter Maximoff fashion, wound up inviting Wanda and her sons to come back to the mansion with all of you. You weren’t the least bit surprised that the professor was fully on board with this. He’s always the first to reach out with compassion to a soul that’s lost and hurting.

What shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did was hearing Mr. Lehnsherr do the same. Between the three of them, Wanda was convinced to come to the school and to learn about her powers in a place where she and her sons would be safe and among friends.

It was at this point that Peter was trying to be in two places at once – serving as liaison to Wanda and the boys, and also making sure that you were alright. He only succeeded in making everyone dizzy, until Mr. Lehnsherr stepped in. He instructed Peter to focus on guiding the newcomers and volunteered to look after you himself. You found yourself leaning on Mr. Lehnsherr for support as you limped through the portal and back to your own world.

“Y’know what I can’t stop thinking about?” says Peter.

“Hmm?”

He turns to grin at you. “Your strawberry rhubarb pie.”

“I know I canned some of that this summer,” you say. “Do I have any left…?”

“If you don’t, one of the students has plant manipulation powers. I’m just sayin’.”

You laugh, and the conversation goes on in much the same vein - talking about a hundred little things that don’t matter.

Westview isn’t brought up, and neither are witches and magic. Nobody mentions Wanda and her twin sons in the room down the hall.

Peter hadn’t been able to give very clear answers to Hank’s questions about his experience. He said that it was all pretty blurry, and chalked up to a side-effect of that weird mind-control necklace thing.

You aren’t sure whether this is cause for worry or not.

The conversation with Peter has been fading in and out for a while now. Typical sleepover experience, really. Silence for a few minutes, and then a bit of banter, and a scattered response here and there, and then more silence.

It’s… It’s actually been silent for a while now. And when did your eyes close, anyway?

You look at the clock to see that over an hour has passed since you last checked the time. But you’re awake now, and you find that you’re not tired anymore. Moonlight streams through the windows, falling across Peter’s bed. He’s still sleeping, thank goodness.

At first you think that the sudden sense of reassurance is just because Peter’s getting some rest. He’s had quite the experience, after all. But there’s more to it than that. You realize that you’re just glad that Peter’s home and safe.

You haven’t really thought about it before, but part of you had always seen Peter as, well, sort of invincible. He’s clever, and capable, and impossibly fast. He can outpace an explosion. He can redirect bullets as easy as breathing. Nothing outside of a godlike entity or an otherworldly power had been able to touch him.

But you can’t stop thinking about this other man – this Pietro. He was fast, too, and he was probably just as capable. That didn’t prevent him from being shot to death while saving the lives of two other people.

Odd coincidental similarities aside, Peter and Pietro aren’t the same. You know this. And yet… You’ve already almost lost Peter once.

In Westview, once you’d found yourself abruptly separated from Vision, you’d realized that you were in way over your head. There was something sinister going on, and you had no idea whether Peter’s kidnapping was a part of it, or if it was something else entirely.

You’d wandered the streets, trying your best to look like you were supposed to be there. At first glance, everything seemed normal. But the more you looked, the more things just felt… off.

It seemed to be summer, but there were no kids at the pool, or in the park, or riding their bikes up and down the block. All the cars looked just a little too shiny and new for a small town. All the yards were too perfectly manicured. Every single person wore well-coordinated outfits. It all felt staged.

Down the block, you noticed a mailbox labeled with the name “Vision,” and-

You hesitated. Maybe best not to go barging in, right? Leaning against a streetlight, you pretended to rummage for something in your bag while you kept an eye on the house. Again, the oddly regimented behavior continued. People walked past the house at intervals that seemed random at first, but weren’t quite. It was more like they were spaced out intentionally to seem random.

Aside from that bit of weirdness, nothing unusual had happened. You hadn’t seen any trace of Peter in your wanderings. This Vision guy was your only lead. Steeling yourself, you started walking down the street, intent on knocking on that door and figuring out the rest from there.

And that’s when somebody clamped a hand over your mouth and twisted your arm, pinning it behind your back. Before you had a chance to struggle or even scream, the scenery in front of you blurred and darkened.

You blinked. The world was still again. You were in a dark, oddly-shaped room. It might’ve been hexagonal, but you couldn’t move to look around. The person who’d grabbed you was still holding you immobile.

“So, they sent another one in, huh?” said an unfamiliar voice. “You’d think they would’ve learned by now, but that’s military types for you.”

The speaker stepped into view. It was a woman – middle-aged and dark-haired. She wasn’t worried like Vision had been, nor was she blithely serene like the other people you’d seen. Her presence was commanding, unconcerned. There was something about the way she sized you up that unsettled you.

“I’ve got it from here, thank you,” said the woman.

The other person released you, and you immediately felt some strange energy wind around you. It tightened around your wrists and ankles, binding them fast, and yanked you several inches into the air.

“Who are you? Let me go!” You struggled to free yourself, but you couldn’t budge the restraints even an inch. Even your powers seemed to glance off them ineffectually.

The woman raised an eyebrow.

“Now that’s interesting,” she said. “How did you manage to get into Westview with your personality intact? Even he was calling himself ‘Ralph’ at first. You’re not with S.W.O.R.D., are you? And I can tell already you’re not a witch. Let’s see…”

The woman made some complex gesture with her hands. A purple mist crept across your vision. You felt something wrapping itself around your mind – covering it like a net, humming like an electric current. You shook your head, trying to clear it away, but it clung like a spider web.

The professor. Just before you’d left, he placed some sort of psychic shielding around your mind, just in case. He wasn’t sure what sort of dangers you’d be facing. You doubt this was what he’d been anticipating, but whatever this woman was trying to do to you, the shield resisted it.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. You felt the web’s grip on your mind tighten, vice-like. At first it was just uncomfortable, but the pressure increased until it was a stranglehold on your consciousness. The edges of your field of vision started to go gray. There was a pounding in your head, a ringing in your ears. You tried to scream.

You couldn’t breathe.

And then its hold released, leaving you gasping for air. If you hadn’t been suspended in midair like that, you would’ve collapsed. The woman watched you with something like fury in her eyes.

“What are you?” she demanded.

Dazed, you blurted out an answer. “I’m nothing. I’m nobody. I’m just trying to find my friend.”

You nearly ignored the movement in the corner of your eye as you tried to pull yourself together. You’d honestly forgotten that there was somebody else in the room. You looked up, and-

Your blood ran cold.

“Peter!”

He was there. He was alright! He-

No. No, he wasn’t. Something was wrong.

Peter watched you with the blank, nonchalant gaze of a stranger.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, shrugging. “Peter’s not here right now.”

“Wha… What did you do to him?!”

You wrenched uselessly at the restraints and Peter… he actually laughed.

“What, him?” said the woman. “He’s fine. I needed a replacement Pietro, and he was the best I could do on short notice.”

She eyed him critically, reaching up to adjust his hair like some sort of demented stage mom.

“Get your hands off him!” you snarled. “And who the hell is Pietro?”

The woman laughed incredulously. “You’re really not from around here, are you? You followed him from that other reality, and- Oh. Oh… I see it now. Oh, that’s too adorable. You’re in love with him.”

Her laugh turned into something that was almost a cackle, and Peter joined in. You felt sick.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do to this town, but Peter’s got nothing to do with it. Let him go.”

“What I’m trying to do-? Oh, pumpkin, you have no idea what you stumbled into.” The woman shook her head in feigned sympathy. “Sorry, but I’m not done with my Fietro yet. And as for you… I won’t be able to get rid of you, but I can’t have you running around getting in my way. I’ll just have to put you someplace for safekeeping, and I know just the spot.”

The woman raised her hand again, and smiled menacingly at you.

“You can try to tell them who you really are,” she said, “But I wouldn’t count on anybody believing you where you’re going. Buh-bye, hon!”

Movement in the room catches your attention, drawing you out of your reminiscing.

Peter stirs in his sleep. He reaches out for a moment, and then his hand falls back onto his chest. He exhales heavily – not quite a sigh – and is still once again.

Then, his hand moves restlessly towards his throat, fingers gripping at nothing like he’s trying to pull at the collar of his shirt, or-

“No, please,” he mumbles, “Please…”

Your knee is stiff from being motionless for so long. It just about gives way under you as you scramble to Peter’s side. You stumble, falling rather than sitting on the edge of the bed.

You catch Peter’s hand in yours and smooth his hair back from his forehead.

“Peter?” You’re surprised at how frantic your voice sounds. “Peter, wake up!”

Peter snaps awake with a gasp. He yanks his hand free of yours, scrambling to push himself back towards the headboard and staring wildly around the room.

You hold up your hands where he can see them, careful not to reach towards him at all. “It’s okay! It’s okay. It’s just me.”

“You…?” Peter stares at you for a moment, as though trying to remember where he is. “Listen, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but can you tell me something only you would know? Anything. Please.”

For a second, your mind goes blank. Something only you would know? You’d spent enough time with Peter that there has to be…

You’ve got it.

You look Peter in the eyes, giving him a little smile. “Who else would know that you’re my hummingbird?”

Peter’s laugh is brief, but genuine. You’d called him that once as a joke – saying that it’d be a fitting codename with his speed, attitude, and love of sugar – and it’d since become your teasing pet name for him. You’d never said it in front of anyone else, though. You may only use it to get a rise out of him, but you never wanted it to become an embarrassing nickname for him or anything.

Peter’s initial panic is replaced by an apologetic smile, but you’re certain that his heart is still racing.

“Thanks. And I’m sorry,” he says. “Bad dreams, y’know?”

“No kidding. You wanna talk about it?”

“I…” Peter looks away, frowning slightly. “I can’t say I actually remember what I was dreaming about, to be honest.”

If you were unsure before, you’re definitely starting to worry now. You make up your mind to talk to Hank and the professor about Peter’s memory lapses. Maybe it’s nothing, but for your own peace of mind, at least…

Still, you don’t want to let on to Peter that you’re worried about him.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you ask. “Need me to get you anything?”

Peter musters up a grin. “Oh, I’ll be fine. And there’s no way I’d send you off to get anything for me with your knee all messed up. But… would you mind staying a little longer? Or you don’t have to leave at all. I mean, it’s already late, and it’s pretty cold out there.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” you say, smiling gently. “You just lay back down, alright?”

Peter nods. Once he’s resettled himself under the covers, you lean down to kiss him.

“I love you,” you say.

“I love you, too.”

Peter reaches over to hold your hand. He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes again.

That Peter falls back asleep within the hour is a testament to how wore out he must be. As for yourself, you remember seeing the horizon brightening outside the window before you finally drift off.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff fanfiction #x men fanfiction #wandavision fanfic #(I mean... it’s both and neither)#who ordered the angst? ... nobody?#well have it anyway. it’s on the house

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djmarinizelablog · 3 years

Note

Hey!! Would you mind write a Miss Congeniality!AU with levihan?

You know, with my beloved hange being Sandra Bullock, and Levi loving her in anyway, after or before the changes, but being surprised with them hehehe

Whew, this was a long one, Anon! Read under the cut to see the rest of it, and let me know what you think! I might expand it one of these days...

---------------------------

Beauty pageants are a nightmare for FBI Agent Hange Zoe.

She can do a sliding tackle, a crosspunch, a backflip-ninja-combo-roll before landing a roundabout kick on the bad guys. All of that while she's wearing a handsome suit. Those shitheads were just damn overwhelmed by her the last time the rascals went on the run from the police; Hange managed to find their hiding place after deducing that these crime lords did their operations in small underground bars where they could bribe the management.

But beauty pageants will haunt Hange in her sleep, especially now that her supervisor Erwin Smith has just assigned her to a new mission involving a serial bomber who targets the public. Said criminal had sent them a threat two days ago saying that he intends to bomb the upcoming Miss Paradis beauty pageant within a weeks' time. To add to that, Erwin has asked FBI's top agent Levi Ackerman to call the shots while they're out in the field, which unfortunately in this case... is the runway.

"I just don't fucking understand." Agent Levi grits his teeth as he pulls his suit tighter around him. "Why does this idiot of a bomber want to make a statement in a pageant, of all places?

"Maybe he's a feminist?" Hange suggests. "You know, maybe he doesn't believe that women should be ranked in terms of looks... or maybe he's got a grudge on one of the contestants? They have their own personal advocacies and all that, too."

"Why the hell do you know so much about this?" Levi eyes his colleague suspiciously, her tomboyish nature unconvincing enough to make Hange Zoe the type of person who would be interested in these events.

"Nanaba makes me watch them," Hange says. She's referring to her buddy in the Cybercrime Unit. "Not that I enjoy it, but I think it's enough for me to get an idea of how these shows actually operate---"

And apparently enough for her to infiltrate the pageant.

Hange obviously did not take it lightly when Erwin announced the plan to use her as an insider in order to track any suspicious activity and monitor the candidates' safety as well.

"Oh no, please no," Hange shakes her head. So much for her intelligence and her critical thinking skills. "I'm not gonna strut across the stage in high heels and pushup bras---"

"You don't have a choice." Levi frowns.

"You men seriously don't understand anything about pageants, do you?" She puts both hands on her hips in exasperation. "It takes weeks, months, maybe even years, to train the contestants... and have you seen me?" She gestures to her masculine appearance and her blatant lack of curves.

The two men look at each other before Erwin breaks the silence. "Keith Shadis can take care of that."

Apparently, they had already asked the pageant committee to put her on the roster of candidates, in addition to hiring a beauty consultant to assist her in the preparations.

"Great heavens," Shadis mutters the moment Hange introduces herself to him in plain casual clothes, eyeglasses dirty and her ponytailed hair in complete disarray. His face cannot hide the disappointment. The older man straightens himself up and continues, "Am I staring at a clown? Not that I've seen worse."

He circles Hange slowly, scrutinizing her poor posture and her vital statistics, wondering how a disheveled person like her would even have the audacity to show up at his place for a makeover.

"I heard you're an expert at transformations," Levi comes to Hange's defense, his tone professional. "We just need her to look good enough so she can get into the final selection. Surely some makeup and beauty sleep will do the trick?"

Shadis raises an eyebrow. "At this rate, Mister Ackerman, your partner here needs to hibernate."

Hange winces at the insult. "Look, I'm not as excited in this as you are---"

"But we're already here, aren't we?" Shadis crosses his arms. "Well, let's get to work then."

He snaps his fingers, and out of nowhere, his assistants grab Hange from behind, forcing her down into a styling chair as they inspect every nook and cranny of her face and body, starting from her untidy hair down to her overgrown toenails.

"This is going to be embarrassing," Hange says, an understatement.

No one has ever told Hange Zoe that prepping up for a pageant is worse than torture. Over the past twelve hours, she has been subjected to a manicure, a pedicure, a hot oil treatment, dental prophylaxis, eyebrow threading, earwax cleaning, body sculpting, and of course, a full-body Brazilian waxing.

To add to that, Shadis has discarded her formal suit and has her done several outfit changes to give her a new sense of style.

"My entire face is sore," she complains to Levi who has been on standby while she underwent all the necessary procedures. "I can't even feel my legs.”

They're separated by a huge dark curtain, Shadis wanting it to be a surprise when he finally reveals the new and improved Hange-motherfucking-Zoe.

"It'll be over soon, trust me," Levi consoles her, both of them already exhausted. He doesn't really care about this entire shebang; he just wants to continue with the operation and gather as much intel as they can on the contestants. Unfortunately, this is part of the mission.

Hange whines again. “And they won't even let me eat any of the pizza!"

“I’ll sneak you in a slice while they’re not looking.”

“I heard that.” Shadis says, his head poking through the curtain.

There's a sigh that escapes Hange on the other side.

"Say, Levi... would you prefer a bombshell model over a badass fighter?" she asks him.

"What kind of question is that?" Levi raises an eyebrow. “You already know my answer.”

He whips his head around just in time to see Shadis smirking, holding the curtains together behind him.

"Behold..." he says, "the one and only... Hange Zoe!"

Levi manages to keep his mouth from falling open when he sees Hange in a nice halter dress, her hair now loose in soft curls, lips pink from the gloss and tint. Instead of her usual glasses, she's now wearing plain contacts.

"What do you think?" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her brown eyes curious while she looks at him in all earnest.

Levi swallows. The words have already left him.

--------

Bonus scene!

The girls are already in their bikinis, hands on hips and sashes hanging on their shoulder as they prance around onstage for the swimsuit segment. Earlier that evening, Levi and Erwin had deduced that pageant contestant Petra Rall may be involved in their case, having joined several protests against animal cruelty in the past. Hange Zoe immediately shut their opinions' down, claiming that Petra wouldn't even hurt a fly, even if she knew how to. The men were still skeptical, nevertheless.

"Like a Dalai Lama, like a Dalai Lama," Hange grits her teeth as she forces a smile on her face. She can feel the silicon cups moving around her chest as well as her bikini bottom sliding up her butt.

When she was up for the Q&A portion, the host had asked her what she would wish for in order to make society a better place. Hange Zoe made the mistake of saying "harsher punishments for parole violators," but she immediately rectified it by adding "world peace" to her final statement.

They're now watching Petra Rall from the sidelines, Levi and Erwin still convinced that the girl could be an accomplice to the bomber's plans.

"What's your idea of a perfect date?" The host starts with his question.

"Oh, that's a tough one." Petra giggles, her ginger hair bouncing as she speaks, "I'd have to say April 25th. Because it's not too hot, not too cold... all you need is a light jacket."

Hange lets out a snort as the two men's face wrinkle in confusion.

"So much for your alleged criminal," she says.

#miss congeniality #levihan #fanfic #fanfiction #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #levi x hange #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #writing #mine #djmarinizela

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

Bring Him Light - xi (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The reader reaches the second stage of grief – anger.

Warnings: angry!reader, reader’s mood swings rival Steve’s LMAO, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.5k

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

The summer sun was unrelenting. Beads of sweat appeared around your hairline as the sun scorched the parts of your skin that was exposed to its heated stare. The parts that were hidden were being scratched by the lace of the loose black gown you wore. The dress was ill-fitting, but no one expected you to dress to the nines after everything you’ve endured.

The kingdom may not have known the entirety of the story. Tales of the runaway queen were still whispered along with the stories of the cruel king. However, the rumors of the unhappy marriage were being put to rest for despite the hot day, your husband stood behind you with his arms wrapped around your body. He was the closest thing to comfort during this troubling morning. You laid the back of your head against his chest as silent tears rolled down your cheeks. The carriage in which your friend’s body was enclosed in was being sent to York to be put to rest alongside her parents. You cried silently for your loss as you said your final goodbye.

The rest of the day, you asked to be alone with your thoughts, opting to stay within your shared bedchamber. He wanted to stay with you, but you told him that he had a country to manage. Your husband didn’t like the idea of you being isolated – especially with Natasha riding off to York with Pietro. You would be completely alone.

But you faked a smile to your husband, trying to convince him you were fine. Steven knew otherwise. He felt as if he were attuned to your emotions by now. He could differentiate a fake smile from a genuine one. He knew this was only the calm to the storm. But he didn’t want to hover nor make you feel trapped. So, he reluctantly left you be.

He did, however, send food up with a servant. The woman stood at your door, a tray with hot soup and a loaf of bread in her hands. She gave you a kind smile and said, “the king would wish that you eat, your grace.”

You returned her smile and shook your head. “I’m not hungry.”

Her kind smile turned nervous as she chuckled. “I’m afraid he insists, your grace.”

“Tell my husband he can shove that hot soup right up his arse,” you chided as you closed the door, refusing to let her in despite her protests. You didn’t see the woman’s wide eyes as the color drained from her face. She was not excited to relay that message to her king – though she did still do it.

Minutes later, your husband barged into the room with the same tray in hand. You were in the balcony, paying him no mind. “You should be kinder to the servants,” he called out to you. “Who knows what rumors you’ll inspire?”

“Killer queen, perhaps? You’ve already taken the moniker of cruel, unfortunately.” You joked. He chuckled as he placed the tray on the foot of your shared bed and walked over to your spot on the balcony. You turned to him and gaped at him in shock.

“I am willing to trade,” Steve smiled as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You’ve shaved.” You whispered. Your hands cupped his cheeks, grazing over the ghost of his beard.

“I thought perhaps I could use a change… Welcome a new era,” he told you. He gave you a peck on the lips.

“I liked the beard.” You whispered. “I thought you looked rather dashing.”

“Then, I will grow it out again,” Steven promised. “Come, let’s get some food in you.” You shook your head and told him you were not hungry. However, the untimely grumbling of your stomach told him otherwise. He smirked, knowing he had won. You groaned as he pulled you inside. “Did teasing the servant bring you any joy? You should’ve seen her face when she told me what you said.”

“So, I take it you did not shove a bowl of hot soup into your – “

“No.” Steve laughed, breaking a piece of the loaf and pushing it towards your lips. With a roll of your eyes, you allowed your husband to feed you. He’d alternate between the bread and the cooling soup.

“I can feed myself.” You muttered after the fourth spoonful.

“Then, don’t act like a child.” Steven scolded. Although you tried to take the spoon away from him, he reeled his arm from your reach and tutted at you.

He continued to spoon feed you, sometimes dipping bits of bread into the soup. You had never seen a massive man like your husband – muscular and intimidating, from first glance – act so soft… His movements were careful, not trying to overload you with food nor make a mess.

A somber feeling rushed through you as you pictured what he would’ve been like doting on his child. You pictured a sweet little angel with golden locks and his blue eyes, or perhaps they’ll have your features? Maybe a mixture of both of you? You imagined the baby that once grew inside of you was a baby girl. A princess, like her mother. You would’ve been a dream.

A dream that you lost forever.

Steven frowned as he saw your eyes glaze over with fresh, new tears. You blinked them away quickly, but they were relentless like the summer heat. He cast aside the spoon and pulled you into his chest, knowing the storm had finally come as you let out a sob.

He rubbed your back and told you it would be okay – although, he wasn’t sure if it’ll ever be okay.

In all his years on the throne, he had lost many friends. Some were so angry with him for letting Margaret control him for a decade that they refused to come back to court. Some had died alongside him on the many battlefields he’s fought in. He remembered the time when James, his oldest friend and closest confidant, had been on his deathbed. Thankfully, he recovered. Every loss – and near loss – affected him. Hell, the thought that you were lost at sea forever made him go on a rampage.

He knew he couldn’t possibly know what you were going through. He’s seen his friends and allies be struck down during battle, but to have witness your friend’s assault and to have her bleed out in front of you? To have the same nearly done to you and to experience losing your unborn child alone all in the span of a few hours?

His heart broke for you. He was angry for you. But he knew you didn’t need him unleashing his wrath – especially with the two traitors who deserved his ire were still at large. He knew you needed support. You needed your husband.

And he was more than happy to be there for you.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

You eventually fell asleep in his arms. The servant had come in to collect the tray. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw her king and queen wrapped up in each other. She had never seen him more content – happy.

As the sun slowly began to set, Steven had slowly drifted off to sleep as well. Until Lord Barnes and Wilson barged in through the doors. The two sleeping monarchs jolted awake.

“Apologizes, your majesties,” James said, bowing.

“You’re back.” Steven responded as you sat up.

“Where did he go?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve finally captured him.” James said. The vague statement made you uneasy. More secrets being withheld from you.

“Who?” You asked. Steven had finally told you the truth, and you no longer wanted to be kept in the dark about anything.

“Brock?” Your husband asked. The dark haired man nodded. You felt your blood run hot as you stumbled out of your husband’s arms and out of the bed. Your bare feet met the cold floor, sending a shiver through you as you remembered when you and Wanda ran barefoot in the corridors at night. “(Y/N) – “Steve called you, but you shook your head.

“I want to see him.” You argued. “I need to see him.”

“I don’t think that’s ideal, your grace,” Sam suggested. “Perhaps, this is a matter that the king should handle.”

“No.” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at the three men, who were all keen to protect you from this man. “I will see him.”

James opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal, but Steven raised his hand to silence his friend. He knew you needed this – any sense of closure was better than none.

The two lords led you and the king through the halls. James had explained that in order to not make a scene, he opted to stash Rumlow in the cellar. Brock Rumlow was a lord, a nobleman – and as much as Steve hated it, he did have royal blood running through his veins, too. Although striking him down for all the world to see would’ve sent a clear message – that all traitors would not be forgiven and that their actions will incite consequences, regardless of status – it would’ve been best to handle the situation discreetly. It would’ve speculation versus the words of a nobleman, after all.

Before entering the cellar, Steven looked over at you. The despair and sorrow were gone. There was still a hint of the tears made evident by the puffy eyes and flushed cheeks, but the look of determination took over your features – brows scrunched together, lips pursed. He knew there were a million things going on in your mind at this very moment. Still protective, the king subtly pushed you behind him as he entered the cellar. Behind you were the two lords.

The cellar’s walls were covered with barrels. There were two guards standing on either side of a man wrapped in chains. He was kneeling on the floor from what you could tell.

“Ah, Stevie,” Brock mocked, chuckling a little. “Barnes ever-so gently requested that I immediately return to the castle. I had to refuse. My estate had a small little fire. But, again, he was so kind in his request, I had to come back… Did you miss me, cousin?”

“You ran from your crimes. Do not deny it, cousin,” Steven spat.

“Your estate was perfectly intact.” James added. “Your servants said that you were in a rush to leave. Packing away your belongings as if there was a fire.”

“You along with Pierce conspired to have my wife killed.” Steven snapped.

“I don’t think I know what crimes you speak of…” Brock said.

“You know,” you finally said. The room became stoic and silent as you moved from behind your husband. The lord stared at you in shock. “Like seeing a ghost, isn’t it, Brock?”

“You – you – “He stuttered. “Your grace.” He greeted, less confidently, bowing his head. You stared at him as your blood boiled. You remembered his caring touches. His small smiles and whispers, promising you safety. It was all a lie like the respect he threw your way.

Rumlow had various bruises lined on his face along with a puffed lip. He looked as if he were beaten. The thought of someone being tortured and harmed used to unsettle you, but now as you stared at one of the men who took advantage of your vulnerability – one of the men who put you on the boat, knowing the outcome would’ve ended with your dead body in the sea – all you could think of was good. He deserves it.

“Did you know?” You asked. Of course, you knew the answer. You wanted him to admit it. Admit it you – admit it your husband, to the guards, and the two loyal lords. You wanted to hear him say that he knowingly betrayed you and the crown.

“I – I – I don’t know what you mean,” Brock muttered. He adverted his eyes from your angry glare. The wife of his cousin – the wife he would’ve had, had Steven died from his several illnesses as a child – had an unnerving look on her face. He remembered your kind and thankful smiles when he spoke to you. It was long gone.

“You know.” You pushed. You felt tears prick in your eyes and you made no effort in concealing them. You were grieving. Not only for the loss of your friend but for the loss of your child as well. You were enraged. Everyone in the room could tell – could sense it. Even the two guards were afraid of you. You stalked over to Brock. “Look me in the eyes, Brock,” you scolded as you grabbed a fistful of his hair and craned his neck so that he met your angry eyes. “Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

Brock knew from the moment he agreed with Alexander Pierce to start conspiring against the king that one day, he would meet his cousin’s anger. Earlier in his years on the council, he was afraid of his cousin.

The skinny little prince had grown up to be tall, broad, and muscular. The ballads painted him as an Adonis who was strong as a bull, and his cousin made good on those depictions. He had fought alongside him in many battles. He had seen Steven tear into his foes. He’d witnessed the king’s ruthlessness on the battlefield firsthand.

Brock groomed himself to be accustomed Steven’s violence. As the years wore on, he became desensitized to it. He prepared himself for the day that Steven did strike him down or lock him away in the dungeon like the other traitors. He was prepared for the axe, sword, and torture.

He was not prepared for the woman who seethed in front of him.

He didn’t even think you had the capability to be as malicious as your husband – and quite honestly, neither did you. But circumstances changed. Lives have been lost. And you were enraged in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“You won’t?” You chuckled humorlessly when the man on his knees refused to speak. Every man around you was silent. You relented your grip in his hair as you stood up straight. “Very well.” You gestured to the guard on your right. “Cut his throat.”

“Wait,” Brock begged. “Wait, your grace – (Y/N) – “

The guard pulled out a dagger and held it to his throat when you laughed again. “Wait, stop.” The armored man held the blade centimeters away from the lord’s neck. You smiled at him wickedly. “Is that fear I sense in you, Rumlow?” Your brows knitted together. “Is that fear, my love?” You asked, turning around to your husband who enjoyed seeing his cousin squirm.

“I believe so,” Steven nodded, an equally wicked smile on his own face.

You bent down so that you were at the chained man’s level. You nodded to the guard, who pulled the blade away from his throat. You grabbed Rumlow’s hair again and gave him another sinister smile.

“You and Lord Pierce preyed upon my vulnerability and fears. You tried to turn me against my husband and in doing so, my friend died. My child died,” You spat.

The lord’s eyes widening in realization. He was not only dealing with the aggressions of a betrayed friend, of a queen who survived an attack but of an unhinged, grieving mother who lost her child.

“You may not admit your plans… Not yet. But you will. You may know my husband’s wrath inside and out, but you have not seen mine.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #king!steve rogers #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel au #marvel royalty #royalty au

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