#slowly being turned into a fucking traditionalist

[olivereactsaboutgarbage]

Nana Episode 32 - Don't Separate the Joined Hands

To those of you who are currently playing in the Splatfest as you’re reading this, what team did you pick? Probably a stupid team, like Grass or Fire. That’s what I think of Nana fans. They probably pick stupid teams like Grass or Fire.

This episode starts with Cool Nanarrator giving an eloquent little monolog that basically amounts to “Whoever named Trapnest must have been a total creep” before the camera then slowly pans to Takumi’s face. It’s really funny.

Hm, turns out Ren is super loyal to Takumi, with a thick layer of general ambivalence underneath. That’s neat.

Shin is once again spending time with... okay. Wait. Okay. Okay. Wait. Okay. IS this the Reira doppelganger? She’s writing a song, so is she... is she Reira??? help me

Okay, well, it’s Reira... does that mean Reira IS half-American? Reira is? Is the doppelganger also, or

Anyway, it seems Reira is a little sad.

The blonde Trapnest member (not to be confused with Nobu, who is also blonde) befuddles Yasu with tales from Takumi of Beloved Pooch Nana being a master manipulator. Yeah that’s. Well it’s.

Okay, now I see why Evil Villain Music played for Takumi last episode. He truly has become the villain of Nana. This is some “just as planned”-type shit.

Next we learn a really cool fun fact about Nobu as a character: He loves condoms. All kinds of screaming and yelling happens.

Warm and pleasant music starts playing while BPN and Takumi stare at each other, and I cannot describe to you the exact aural experience of that music as it gets interrupted by the doorbell in such a way as to explain how it’s absurdly funny, but... LOL.

Upon hearing Cool Nana didn’t accompany Nobu to BPN’s place, Takumi assumes she’s with Ren. That’s a little... it’s like he thinks human beings are wholly predictable automatons whose courses cannot be diverted.

Well that seems like an overly traditionalist mindset, doesn’t it?

Next after some minor mutual crying, the show brings up the red string of fate. That’s an interesting concept for the show to introduce as thematically relevant. I feel like the only two people in this show who can really be described as bound together by fate are the two Nanas. I’ve asked this question one million times and the answer has never been yes, but... Nanacest real?

Although. Reira rejects the red string of fate concept, positing that Trust > Fate. Hmm... who in this show trusts each other... hmm... fucking no one. Well that’s bleak.

Guitar.

#nana #is what i'm consuming

[meggannn]

shepard/garrus?

oh boy, sorry for the late response! I always end up posting these things and then going to read/take a nap/play a game or something. anyway writing this up took two hours, i hope it is even slightly interesting to read. cut because this is looooooong

What made you ship it?

I think I was interested in this ship before I even played ME. I was just like “I know Shepard is a character and an alien named Garrus is a character, and people draw porn of them together.” because I think it’s reasonable to say it’s one of, if not the most, popular ship in the fandom, or at least in ME’s tumblr fandom? and the way people talked about it, I knew their tropes were #banter, #battle couple, #partnerships, and... and as we’ve learned from royai, I am a bit weak to those tropes (assuming I like both of the characters). the way people talked about them also from a “best friends” angle—which is sort of forced in-game in a way that seems strange to me now—was also a plus in its favor at the time. (if they get together, I do see their friendship/companionship, in whatever form, in some ways integral to their romance—unless you’re playing full far-right renegade who’s like a xenophobe and hate-fucking Garrus, I guess?—but Bioware also kind of shoehorned Garrus into that best-friend role and that’s a topic for another day.)

What are your favorite things about the ship?

(my friend will hit me if I say “partnerships” again) I’m gonna talk about the way I play my Shepard now, because so much is dependent on the unique Shepard. for Lydia’s journey over the series, I see a large part of her journey as basically a study of her (often self-inflicted) loneliness. and she never entirely breaks her habits of self-isolation, but the events of the series force her to be vulnerable in a way she would prefer not to be in front of a crew, or, y’know, ever. Garrus becomes an integral part of that story to help her break her out of these bad habits (all of the crew does, particularly also Ashley for my Shep), but to my eyes, the story of “Shepard and Garrus’s relationship” is also one of mutual respect, burden-sharing, and sanity and morality checks.

I don’t think of their “mentor” relationship in ME1 very often mostly because I don’t think it was done particularly well, but for all its faults, I do like how naturally the jump from “subordinate” in ME1 to “ally” in ME2 felt; once you meet Garrus on Omega you feel more on the same footing as two friends greeting each other because you’ve both recently been through trauma and the sight of a friendly face in a station full of hostiles is so unexpectedly welcome that it lets them both hope things will be okay for a minute. starting from that moment, Garrus becomes one of the few people who can see “under” her mask, I guess: partly because he’s one of the few combatants from the SR-1 who knows Shepard well and sees who she is both on the field and onboard the SR-2, with the ability to compare both to the times of “before you died”; partly because he has trauma response training and recognizes it in others even if he doesn’t in himself; partly because his loyal personality makes him sensitive to wonder how she’s dealing with being resurrected; and also partly because they’ve both gone through similar things. namely, getting your squad killed and blaming yourself for it, and it possibly being your fault (BioWare is inconsistent on what Shepard’s role was on Akuze, but in ME1 she has the chance to reply that she was responsible for getting them out safely, and failed).

necessity forces Shepard to adapt to things like being effectively forced to work for terrorists; being isolated from her support system; being resurrected and feeling like a stranger in her own body; later, getting decommissioned for making an incredibly difficult call to save the galaxy; watching your homeworld burn; being forced into a political role negotiating high stakes you don’t know how to play; being told you’re the spearhead of a galactic war; doing all of this without a full crew complement; the list goes on. those are all, on their own, incredibly isolating, traumatic experiences, and my Shepard’s not emotionally sane at the best of times. (emotionally stable, perhaps, only in the most literal of terms, at least on the surface. she’s like a rock when shit hits the fan. emotionally sane, no, for that reason and more.)

the tables have turned, and Garrus ends up becoming a large part of helping her regain agency in most if not all of those things: in ME2 he was a former crew member she trusted, and he was eager to work for her and be distracted from his failures on Omega. over in the battery, he is himself recovering from a major injury (like Shepard) and going through the aftermath of a bloodbath he feels responsible for (like Shepard), working on a crew that holds him at arm’s length, that he also... arguably... didn’t have much choice in joining (like Shepard—I’m assuming he wasn’t held hostage and joined voluntarily after waking up, but lbr this is unconfirmed). their reasons are different and varied, but they don’t realize until much later that they have found each other at the most opportune time, providing a sense of stability for each other, and also, frankly, sanity and morality checks.

in ME3, he steps into this role more fully because he’s become more disciplined, is doing work firmly in his wheelhouse, and paired up against Shepard struggling with their positions somewhat reversed from ME1: him more confident and her now completely out of her element, floundering with her place on a galactic scale. without Garrus—and Chakwas, and Joker, and Tali, and later the loyalty of the entire SR-2—the story of ME would be a tragedy, and it would end shortly in ME2; it’d be the story of how my Shepard slowly went insane being forced to fight boogeymen under a terrorist banner. Garrus isn’t, like, the keeper of her sanity, but their ability to check each other, and see themselves in the eyes of each other, provides stability and occasionally a bit of a wake-up call to both of them. when they’re both vulnerable, they both feel most seen, and most understood, by an alien that listens.

one angle of this ship that highly interests me at the moment, along with the above, is that while it’s not illegal for them to be together, it’s still... a really bad fucking idea lmao. (I could make the argument that it’s a bad idea for Shepard to be in any relationship with their crew but I think there are a few ships—Garrus, Tali, any Alliance crew at all—that realistically would be huge political clusterfucks.) so overcoming personal insecurity and fear of the unknown to acknowledge interest in each other, and the desire to become an item, getting roadblocked by a reality wake-up call with the fact that 1) she’s his boss, 2) Garrus comes from a society where station matters, like, sort of a lot and it even determines your job and how much legal power you have, 3) the potential political blowback (which would be ENORMOUS because lbr the hierarchy may not care about what turians do in off-hours but they WOULD care about the superior/subordinate thing, the human thing, the fact that they’re doing this while a war is going on. basically one of their best agents is on the Normandy to negotiate their interests and they’re basically at the whims of their relationship the whole time)... it’s a lot! all of that sort of makes it tragic, but I’m curious to see how they’d overcome it.

anyway, all of that is where I’m coming from when I think or write about this ship, but there’s a lot more I’m not mentioning here. there are a lot of juxtapositions that in my head that I’ve either added or extrapolated from canon that also interest me about this pairing. Garrus is a former cop, as is his father; Lydia is a poor kid who used to be in a gang out of necessity. Garrus is a turian with often traditionalist thinking; Shepard is a human who has much less sociopolitical power than him, even if she is his superior on the Normandy. both of them are roughly as old as the First Contact War, when their people were at each other’s throats not thirty years ago. Garrus idolizes Spectrehood while Lydia hates it, feeling it was forced on her. they can’t eat the same food. and yet despite all of that, and the fact that they need translators to communicate, they manage to understand each other when a lot of the world around them doesn’t.

god this is not even the full list of it. anyway I could go on but I’ll stop there lol.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

oh jesus, so much. I’m a grouchy and picky shipper, be warned.

pining can always make my ships more interesting, and imo it’s a consistent part of any ship of Shepard’s, considering it’s wildly inappropriate and unprofessional for her to be fucking any subordinate, so I think more consideration could be given to shakarian in the “we shouldn’t be having a thing and oh also you’re an alien and I’m kind of scared of both your government and your body” angle! I hope to explore that a bit with a fic I’m writing (if I ever finish it, god).

I hate the flavor of fandom!shakarian where Shepard romanced Kaidan in ME1 then felt “betrayed” when he’s confused and hurt on Horizon, so she gets with Garrus as like... revenge? idk. and then Garrus usually develops this bias against Kaidan as a sort of author mouthpiece (which is inconsistent with his characterization cause Garrus is nothing but pleased to have Kaidan back on the SR-2 in ME3!) and takes up the anti-Kaidan crusade cause K ~questioned the commander~ (since when does Garrus fall over himself defending a superior from criticism?) like, idk. I think Garrus can be sensitive to the fact that that reuniting must’ve been painful for Shepard, but also be aware that it was also really painful for Kaidan because all of Kaidan’s complicated feelings about Shepard’s resurrection were, realistically, things Garrus should’ve felt too! this trope is very popular but just feels like manufactured drama for drama’s sake, idk, I’m also not big on love triangles so. I would much rather people just rescue Ashley on Virmire and avoid the whole thing rather than have previously-romanced Kaidan around in ME3 for the sole purpose of forcing him to watch Shepard/Garrus being happy together tbh.

I think full goody-goody paragon Shepard is too preachy to make a good partner for Garrus and full shoot-anyone-in-my-way renegade Shepard encourages and emboldens his worst tendencies (and Castis Vakarian is right to disapprove of them). most people end up playing some combination of both, or if they do settle in one camp or the other, usually there is some sense of realism where Shepard doesn’t play nice/naive or play mean all the time, so it’s rare I see either of those kinds of extreme Shepards depicted, but in general if there is a Shepard that is so far in one direction it seems illogical to me that they ever stay together.

I think wanting a mShep romance for Garrus is a pretty welcome idea in fandom, but adding onto that, I think Garrus should’ve been romanceable in ME3 for players who changed their minds on other romances or want to play slow-burn romances! we had it for Kaidan—and should’ve had it for Ash—so (pounds fist on desk) Garrus too imo!

I hate the canon get-together because Shepard walking into the battery and asking “do you want to fuck” feels very tailored to the players who want to romance Garrus, not to who Commander Shepard is, imo. it lacked all of the subtlety and depth of some other romances—until the scene of Garrus coming to her cabin with a wine bottle, at least, cause I do like that scene, but anyway, I dislike the actual get-together.

just in general, I’m a stick in the mud, so my favorite iteration of this ship is where Shepard is resolutely professional, and the challenge of it becomes him getting her to open up, not the other way around. like, I think on some level every iteration of Shepard is a bit of a lunatic/eccentric, because you have to be to do the things they do, but I like to see their flirting with less of her calling him “big guy” (not sure where that came from, is that in canon? I must’ve missed it, but personally I don’t like it) and more of Garrus making wisecracks in the canteen while he’s talking to Joker, but he’s looking at her out of the corner of his eyes and he really said his joke with the aim of making her laugh, and as she’s reading her datapad she hears him, and even when she wants to chuckle she stops himself and just smirks cause she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a laugh, but he sees her lips twitch and feels his heart flutter. that. I want more of that.

oh lastly, I hate “Shepard takes Vakarian clan markings” in any iteration. there is no canon relation to turians being poc—in fact I’d argue they have sociopolitical privilege real-world bipoc do not—but the concept of social face markings, face tattoos, etc., is rooted in non-white cultures and with the fact that 1) turians had a literal civil war over the territories those markings represent, 2) we don’t even know if marriage is how markings are shared or if non-turians are ever invited to wear them in the first place, 3) most of the art of this trend, lbr, is of mostly white Shepards in wedding dresses and blue face paint... all that combined just makes me frown and scroll faster every time I see it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bipoc Shepard with Vakarian face markings in fic/art, and that to me is very telling (not because they should have them, but because bipoc fans who make bipoc Shepards usually recognize when a racially-coded trope is uhhhhh not so great to appropriate for someone not of that group).

#megan does memes #marisjellyfish #shakarian

[curlybookwriter0294]

Say My Name

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Fairy Tail sadly

Summary: To some Japanese couples, it’s tradition not to say each other’s name. It’s a weird and stupid tradition yes. But to some couples it’s highly important to stick with tradition as well as the culture.

Sometimes though, Lucy Heartfilia wished it wasn’t part of some stupid tradition and she also wishes that she wasn’t so freaking traditional because it can really drive a person insane because of it.

And it’s slowly beginning to happen to her now as we speak.

To some Japanese couples, it’s tradition not to say each other’s name. It’s a weird and stupid tradition yes. But to some couples it’s highly important to stick with tradition as well as the culture.

Sometimes though, Lucy Heartfilia wished it wasn’t part of some stupid tradition and she also wishes that she wasn’t so freaking traditional because it can really drive a person insane because of it.

And it’s slowly beginning to happen to her now as we speak.

She smiled warmly when she turned over on her side to stare at the pink headed man that was sleeping soundly next to her. His bare muscular chest steadily moving up and down as he continues to breathe. His wild hair everywhere on Lucy’s pink pillow.

Lucy’s actually surprised that she had woken up before him which was rare because it would be usually him that would be up early watching her sleep until she had woken up.

Unless he’s still tired from their love making that had occurred last night.

She blushed madly red at the memories of him holding her tightly as he whispered things into her ear as he went in deeper and deeper inside to the point she saw stars. She had always assume that since he’s half dragon he would have more lasting stamina but then again he’s also half human so it would made sense that he would still get tired easily.

Now, back to the stupid Japanese traditions.

Even though the two of them had been dating for nearly two years— yes, two and counting— they had never yet said each other’s name. Because, well, once they do— that’s it. There’s no going back! That would mean they’re truly serious about each other.

Lucy could remember countless of times where she had been close to saying his name whenever they had gone out on one of their dates. And if she’s being totally honest with herself, she could’ve swore that he’s been also close to saying her name as well.

“You’re awake?” Lucy heard him muttered tiredly when he had opened his dark eyes, giving her a fanged grin. “How’d you sleep Heartfilia? Thought you would still be knocked out after…” he trailed off, eyeing the flushed beautiful blonde in front of him, loving the way her brown orbs widen in shock. “last night?”

Lucy scoffed at him and reached over to throw one of her pillows at him hoping that it would hit him in the face, sadly he caught it easily and sat it down beside him on the bed. “Well good fucking morning to you too, Dragneel.”

She watched him stretch out his arms above his head, making her worry her lower lip. She had always admired his muscular build and at how strong he was.

Lucy gasped when he had started to stare at her, leaning over the bed to give her a chaste kiss on her pink, plush lips. “Good morning, Heartfilia. Want me to make breakfast?”

Lucy sighed and nodded her head at him, reaching up with her manicured finger to lightly touch her lips; her brown eyes staring into his dark ones. “Y-yes, N—“ she gulped, immediately stopping herself from saying his name. She cleared her throat to try again. “Yes, that’s fine..”

She watched him cock his head to the side in confusion as he was studying her which caused her to slightly panic at the possibility that he could’ve heard her almost saying his name just now.

Lucy sighed in relief when he had leaned away from away from her, bending down to grab a random shirt to quickly slip on before leaving her room to start cooking them breakfast for the two of them.

Once he had fully disappeared out of sight, Lucy threw herself back on the bed and groaned loudly in frustration. “Damn it Lucy! Stupid ass traditions!”

Natsu Dragneel could’ve swore that she had almost said his name just now in her room. And if he was being completely honest with himself; he wouldn’t mind it one bit because truthfully he’s been wanting to say it too.

In fact, he’s been dying to say her lovely name and her name means light and throughout their whole entire relationship; she has been the bright light of his dark life that had once was before she had came and brighten it up.

Natsu growled lowly in the back of his throat as he watched four strips of bacon sizzling on a pan in front of him.

He was all alone before he had met the blonde of beauty. He frowned deeply at the memory of him arriving to the new city of Magnolia after his father Igneel had died suddenly, making him move to an unfamiliar city because his father had owned a house that he had wanted to have because of his final will.

He had no friends nor family. It was only him and his father always until the very end when he had passed. But then, she had appeared, yelling at him along the streets of downtown Magnolia asking him to help her catch a blue stray cat that was running past him. Once she had captured the cat; she had named him Happy and the two started out as friends.

He even trusted her enough to tell her that he was half dragon and to his shocking surprise; she had accepted him afterwards!

He also remembers her introducing him to a few other half dragons like himself. Even though it did took awhile for him to get along with Gajeel, Sting, Laxus, Wendy and Rogue; they all became close friends because they all had dragon blood in them.

He was there for her when Happy had died after running away again and she was there for him when the anniversary of his father’s death was near. And on that day of the anniversary, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips and the rest was history.

Well, almost anyway.

Now, Natsu had never consider himself a traditionalist. His girlfriend was more traditional than him and he had known that way before they had gotten together so he made sure to respect her beliefs and to be honest lately; it has been harder for him to not say her name.

He could feel it on the tip of his tongue each time they were together. Each time that they would made love he truly wanted to scream out her name in pure pleasure.

Natsu scoffed when he had grabbed two plates for them, making sure that the food wasn’t touching each other on her plate which made him chuckle quietly, sighing as he left the kitchen to head back towards her bedroom, smirking when he could see her sprawling across the bed and had immediately sat up straight when he had walked inside.

“Whatcha think about?” He asked her as he had planted himself on the edge of the bed, handing her a plate, quirking an eyebrow at her and immediately could tell that there was something on her mind because she was looking at him funny.

“L—“ Natsu shook his head of pink hair, realizing that he had almost said her name. “Heartfilia.” He tried again, grabbing their plates and moved them aside by placing them on the nightstand that was next to him. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Natsu.”

If it weren’t for his super dragon hearing that he had inherited from his father he probably wouldn’t had heard his name just now that she had whispered so quietly.

“D—did you just say my name?” He asked, widening his eyes in shock, carefully leaning in close to her, wrapping their hands together on the blankets. “Say it again. Say my name once more. Please Lucy.”

Lucy couldn’t believe it. She had finally said his name and he had immediately said it back which made her heart skip a beat when she sees him leaning in closer to her.

“Natsu.” She could feel her eyes slowly started to close when she could feel his hot breath near her lips. So far, she loves saying his name. It rolled off her tongue easily. Why it took her so long she had no idea. She heard him chuckle lowly before finally closing the gap between them, kissing her on her lips. She could feel him pushing her gently on the bed, making her yelped in surprise.

“Natsu,” she says again, smiling at him once the two broke for air, panting heavily. “Oh, Natsu,” she whispered, reaching her arms up to wrap them around his neck to bring him closer.

“Lucy.” Natsu mumbled, leaning his nose down towards her neck. “Lucy. Lucy.” Natsu said, smiling against the nape of her neck.

“Say my name again.”

“Natsu.”

“Lucy. Lucy Heartfilia. It feels so damn good to finally say it.” Natsu told her, moving his lips down along her neck, making her shiver when she could feel one of his fangs lightly grazing her neck.

“N—Natsu. Natsu Dragneel. We’re finally saying our names.”

“It’s about damn time. Huh, Lucy?”

“Yes, Natsu. It’s about damn time.”

A/N: back with another NaLu fic!! Please let me know what you guys think of it!! :)

#fairy tail nalu #nalu smut #nalu fanfiction #nalu fanfic #nalu au #ft nalu #nalu fluff #ft fanfiction

[ceratonia-siliqua]

Sunshine

Baby’s first stucky fic! A/B/O based on a post from awhile back about omegas being soft and smelling good after laying in the sun. If I find it again I will link it!

Written because of prompting from @the1918 and @howdoyousleep3. It’s not my usual poetic musings but sometimes you just need some unadulterated fluff. 

Warnings: The lightest, barest amount of angst if you squint. This work is also left ambiguous as to the history prior to this so it can be as close or as far from canon as you would like it to be!

Sunlight, unfettered and sweet filtered through the window. Cast a long glowing shadow across the light wooden flooring. The light traced the imperfection in the wood, every scratch and gorge on display. It was a sight, one made homely by the nest pooling across the floor. It was small, temporary, one built by an omega for comfort than by an alpha for home. A lump made warm and honeyed by the light rested in it’s center. Long strands of hair stuck out wildly from it, messy in a sleepy way. A way that made Steve’s heart melt into a molten, sticky mess. 

He slowly made his way over, taking in the sight of his omega in a state of sound and utter peace. Bucky had burrowed face down, hiding his eyes from the light while his skin absorbed the vibrant smell that came from it. To Steve it was the smell of a happy omega. He’d never once known an omega to be sour after a sun bath, especially not Buck. Bucky always smelled like peaches, the sun ripened him till he smelled like cobbler. It was addictive, Steve’s favorite smell on earth. 

He’d been watching for awhile now. Morning coffee in one hand, newspaper forgotten in the other. He watched Bucky build the nest, had offered to help but was politely ignored. Steve may have a tendency to go overboard with nests. When he’d been a skinny slip of a thing he’d committed himself to perfecting the art. It was the one alpha role he could fulfill and do truly well. He’d rent books from the library and spend hours memorizing the best techniques. It felt silly looking back but it had been one of the only providing roles he’s ever thought he could meet. Ultimately, it had been a good time investment if the nest in their bedroom was any indicator. Bucky had once joked the only thing it was missing was Steve going apeshit with a baddazler. 

A massive sigh came from the Bucky shaped lump on their living room floor. The kind that only comes from complete and utter contentment. Steve couldn’t resist anymore. He set his coffee and newspaper on the dining table, never looking away from the sundrenched spot. His footsteps didn’t seem to alert Bucky in the slightest, a trust built in the space of their life together. Their home provided them both safety, safety they needed after so much of their lives spent constantly in and out of war. It was nice to finally have a physical space to call home, even if that was Bucky’s title before the four plaster walls surrounding them. He carefully stepped into the nest, straddling the space over Bucky before folding down on top of him. 

Bucky jumped but settled as Steve’s nose burrowed into his neck. His skin was warm and sweet, Steve couldn’t help but get a few openmouthed kisses in so he could get a taste. Couldn’t ever get enough of Bucky, especially like this. Nearly liquid under him, Bucky’s purrs were gentle and sleepy. He worried his own rumbling would be too much, but he received no complaints as the sun warmed his back as his sun sweetened omega heated his front. It was blissful, he wished they could stay there, unmoving, for the rest of their natural lives. 

The shifting beneath him seemed like it would end that wish, but Bucky had simply turned onto his back, tucking his face into Steve’s neck and getting his fill of his beloved alpha’s scent. He’d told Steve once that he smelled like pines, he wondered if the sun changed that the way it did Bucky’s. Their joined scent, something sharp and fresh with a homely edge to soften it, flooded the space around them. The sun mellowed it into a hazy cloud. 

“Steve?”

“Mhm?”

“Are we still supposed to go to that charity event Tony is putting on?”

Well, that killed the mood a bit. He sighed, “Yes, we do.”

“How many rounds do you think we can get in before we have to be ready?”

The scents in the room suddenly turned deeper, mustier, Bucky shuddered beneath him. “Why don’t we find out, sugar?”

_____

The smell of sun didn’t leave. Even after fucking like they were dying, the vibrant smell lingered in unexpected places, most notably, Bucky’s hair. It made getting ready difficult on Bucky’s part. 

“Steve I swear to god-”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Get your nose out of my hair for five seconds so I can get shit put together!” Bucky hip checked him hard enough that Steve let up. Made puppy eyes at his mate’s back even as his very name was cursed to the heavens. The clacking of hangers across the rack followed him as he sat down on a chair by the closet, watched as Bucky tried to find them both outfits. 

“You know Buck, you don’t have to dress me. I’m fine doing it on my own.” If looks could kill Steve may have ended up with two knives in his ribs with the way Bucky was glaring. 

“Steve, there are a lot of things society expects out of me, most of which they can shove right up their asses, but I will not be the omega that lets his mate leave the house dressed like a doormat.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you dress yourself like a cardboard box, Steve.” 

“I’m wounded Buck, I really am.” The pout he put on was usually successful but rarely a trick he pulled. Something about the dinner had to be stressing his poor baby out if he was this snippy after most of the day in bed. 

Bucky sighed, running his fingers through his hair, still drying from the shower. “I’m sorry Stevie, it’s not your fault. There is a lot of press coverage at this event and I don’t want to give them ammunition against you.”

Oh, oh. Things were clicking now. The press had been a problem for a while now. Steve knew what Bucky meant but wasn’t saying. For some reason, a magazine company had started running slander campaigns against Bucky. In a way it was to be expected, Bucky wasn’t a traditionalist, and neither was Steve when it came down to it. They’d both dumped enough expectations for their roles in the garbage to be on equal ground but Bucky got the worst of it. Everything he did was picked apart. Most of it was laughable, but there were things that got to him, mainly those which targeted Steve. Bucky could handle more than anyone he’d ever met, but Steve had never seen him more devastated than the day four articles had come out about Steve wearing mismatched shoes. All the blame had been pinned to his poor omega. The gossip circles had labeled Bucky as neglectful. One of the few “omega specific” tasks he was known to partake in was dressing Steve. When they had been nothing more than two starving Brooklyn kids, Bucky had been determined to take care of Steve when his body shit out on him. One of the few things he’d let Bucky truly do was dress him. They had a rhythm, tops always went on first. Unless he was too weak to lift his arms Bucky would simply pass shirts, jackets, and coats for Steve to do himself. Most days Bucky only put his feet through the legs of his pants for him, letting Steve pull them up when he stood. There were plenty of times on the other hand, where Buck had needed to vault Steve into standing by his belt loops so they could get him up long enough to get his pants on. 

Steve knew all of this, very well in fact, but the media didn't. They hadn’t seen Bucky, eighteen with only a few dollars to his name, beaten and worn down. Hadn’t seen the exhaustion skittering across every nerve. Didn’t know that despite being dead on his feet, Bucky would always make sure Steve was taken care of first. No one deserved the level of disrespect going on, but Bucky shouldn’t have even been on the radar. The shoe mix up had been his own fault. Bucky had been sick, throwing up at even the slightest suggestion of light. He had gotten dressed in the dark and ran to the store, hadn’t even thought about what he might look like, laser focused on his task instead. Bucky needed medicine and Steve needed Bucky well. That was all he had thought at the time.

“Buck, we don’t have to go.”

Eyes fluttered to the side, Bucky wouldn’t look at him. “I want to go, and it wouldn’t be fair to Tony to leave him to the dogs like that.”

Steve nearly snorted, Tony wouldn’t notice them failing to pop in, and even if he did it wouldn’t be remembered the next morning. 

“Sweetheart,” He stood up, went and placed both his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky peaked at him from the corner of his eyes. “You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable to make others comfortable. We can stay home, watch a movie, order some take-out.” 

Bucky looked over his shoulder at their closet. He held himself like he was expecting something to jump out at him, like a timer was set to go off any second to spell some horrible doom. Steve wanted to call it right then and there, force them to stay home, but Bucky would fight him on it and go out of spite. He cupped the side of his darling mate’s face and coaxed him into eye contact. Blue and grey met and blended, met and crashed, met and free fell backwards into each other. There was trust, so much trust. It bellied his own concerns, left him hovering there waiting for an answer. Bucky would make the choice he needed too, even if it wasn’t the one Steve would have made for him. From day one he had sworn to be an alpha Bucky could respect, one that he would be proud to stand by. Part of that was letting go in moments like this. He looked into those eyes, the ones that belonged to his heart, and sent a silent message. It’s your choice. Your call. I will follow you wherever you take me, us. It was intense even for such a simple choice, but that was always how it was between them. 

Bucky’s nose turned into his wrist, silent puffs of air sliding over his skin as Bucky drew in his scent. He closed his eyes for a few time-stopping seconds before those haunting grey eyes peaked beneath fluttering lashes. 

“...Let’s stay home.” A smile turned the corner of his lips, an expression Steve would never stop loving. “But I get to pick the movie. You’re still on a two week probation after making me watch Baby Driver.” 

Steve couldn’t resist dipping down, stealing a kiss across slightly chapped lips. The kiss stolen at the end of his love’s sentence was sweet. The traces of sunlight only made it sweeter.

#Stucky #siliqua writes #marvel #steve rogers #bucky barnes #abo #alpha/beta/omega verse #this originally was going to have some smut but alas #it hindered me so it had to go #hopefully I but at least a decent foot forward

[captainjimothycarter]

For prompts: We dated in high school but then you moved away but now you’re back in town

i’m sorry i got carried away.

--

There was something familiar about the woman waiting in line. Something Steve couldn’t quite make out. Maybe it was the curve of her body or those almond-shaped eyes that are tugging on a memory long tucked away. No, it’s defiantly those eyes. He knew those eyes anywhere.

They were the same shade of dark brown, with flecks of hazel and honey swirling in them. He knew how they looked when the sunlight would hit them, how they looked when she was furious when she was upset when she was beyond happy. He knew every emotion that she’d been able to give without saying a word through those eyes.

He’d loved those eyes. They filled his sketchbooks, even now two years after high school. He still loved her.

As the crowd cleared with their baked goods and hot coffee, Steve was finally able to draw himself up to full 6’0 height and smile down at her.

Her. Peggy.

Oh. She wasn’t alone.

His smile faltered at the sight of a little blonde boy clinging to the backside of her leg. He looked to be almost two years old, if Steve had to put an age to him. He looked just like Peggy with her nose and dimples. He had the brightest pair of blue eyes.

“Hello there,” he breathed to the shy, little boy, giving a wave of his hand that only caused the boy’s face to flush and hide. He turned to look up at the boy’s mother, his heart lurching in his throat. “And hello to you.”

Peggy’s laugh is just as he remembered, bright, and full of life. She reached over the counter to hug Steve, pressing a fond kiss to his cheek. “Hello to you.” She looked nervous as she dipped down to pick the boy up and put him on her hip. “You look amazing, Steven. This place…told you it would pick up.”

She knew Steve had a desire to work in his ma’s bakery after he graduated. He had an amazing hand when it came to decorating cakes and cupcakes. He loved to experiment and made beautiful baklava and cinnamon rolls that still lingered on her mind with a taste for them.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around at the busy place. He could hear his ma in the back, Bucky was out delivering their daily orders. Sam had just left after opening for them. “Yeah, you’re always right. Who's this?”

He felt too awkward. They’d dated in high school until she left just after graduation to return home in order to help her mother with taking care of her brother who’d suffered a career-ending injury with the military. He loved Peggy. He just never got to tell her that and seeing her here before him, it made him want to gush but become aware she had a child now, it seems. She was most likely married or at least dating, knowing her.

“Michael,” the little one said proudly, curling his h’s the way Peggy did when she was excited. “My name’s Michael and I’m two.” He held up three fingers, making Steve laugh. “And mummy and I just moved here cause she said she missed News Yorky.”

Oh God, that was adorable. Steve found himself smitten with the little boy.

“You’ve had a son?” He turned his eyes to Peggy, nodding his head at Michael, not really good with kids.

Peggy looked almost nervous as she held the little boy close to her chest, eyes fluttering towards the door. “Can we…talk?”

--

Michael sat in the little corner Steve had designed and painted for kids to enjoy themselves while their parents drank coffee and talked. He could hear the little boy humming loudly and playing with the art supplies. He turned to look at him and back to Peggy who’d nervously wrapped her hands around the blue coffee mug.

“When I left, I was distraught. Saying goodbye to you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was broken up about having to say goodbye to you and my brother. I didn’t know his condition. I didn’t know what happened and no one would tell me a thing until I got home because of the secrecy of the matter.”

Steve’s broad hand slowly laid over her own, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her wrist. “You did what you had to do, I don’t blame you. I only wish we stayed in contact.”

“I do too. I got so busy with Micheal and my mother and my career, I-I…” She sighed and closed her eyes, her fingertips curling around the mug to the point Steve thought she was going to break it. “At the time, I thought it was stress…missing my cycle, the sickness. Having to see your brother like that, I-I…”

Steve frowned as she stuttered. This was hard for her, but this was Peggy. Strong, confident Peggy. He unwrapped her hands and took both of them into his own. “Peggy,” he’d never sounded so serious before. “Were you…hurt?”

Her eyes snapped to his and she frowned, opening and closing her mouth. “What? No, Steven, I was pregnant!”

His hands dropped hers and he sat back, staring at her.

Oh.

Oh.

“He’s…mine?”

Peggy didn’t need to say yes. He knew. Steve knew in his heart that she wouldn’t lie about this. No one should. And he could see it in the way Michael held the pencil with his right hand, the way he looked when he was concentrating on scribbling on the paper.

“Why didn’t you call?!” Steve furiously whispered, turning to look back at her. She almost looked close to tears, but he couldn’t help the betrayal he felt. The hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?! An email. A text. Fuck, Pegs, even a letter!”

She sat there, looking impossibly small. Blinking harshly and Steve’s throat was tightening. He could feel his heart-shattering. When she didn’t reply, he continued, “I would’ve been there for you! I would’ve been by your side through it all! I would’ve supported you! Done everything I could! I would’ve moved there to be with you. I love you and you couldn’t even tell me that you were pregnant with my child?!”

If Peggy had an answer, Steve didn’t hear it. He was storming into the back of the bakery to clear his head. He needed to think. He felt incredibly guilty for yelling at Peggy but he was right in these feelings. He was betrayed. He was hurting. He had a goddamn child that he didn’t know of, who grew up so far not knowing him, and thought of him as a stranger and why?

Why hadn’t she told him? Did she not feel the same way? Was he that horrible of a boyfriend in high school that she didn’t trust him? Was she ashamed that her boyfriend had been American? The father of her son was some Yank?

A string of curses in Galiec left his lips as he rolled a piece of fondant out on the table, his hands shaking. What had he done so wrong that he’d not been allowed to be there for the birth of his son?

--

“Youse can’t say those words. Bad words. Stave?

The soft voice caused Steve to look up from where he was still bending over the metal table. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks, trying to dry his face off. For half a second, he thought it was Peggy but no…no, it was her son.

His son.

Back in this kitchen, where he wasn’t allowed.

Had Peggy taught him Gaelic? It was important to him, to cling to that part of his identity that his mother had taught him. That he loved his heritage and wanted to share it. She taught him that?

“Hey, buddy, whatcha doing back here? You can’t be back here.” He knelt down to look at the kid, seeing now how Michael had his freckles and his hair. Oh and that smile, that was his ma’s smile right there.

The boy thrusts a drawing at Steve’s chest with a bright smile. It was what he’d assume was the outside of his bakery, with its pretty fairy lights and potted plants. “I made dis. For you! Cause you’se got a pretty place and yummy cupcakes.”

His lips twitched into a smile as he rubbed his fingertips over the crayon. “It’s beautiful, buddy. Tell you what, I’ll put it up on the counter for everyone to see. Here, let’s get you back to your ma.” He picked up a sugar cookie, still warm, and passed it to the boy in trade for the paper.

Steve was a little stunned to see Peggy talking to his mother. His mother loved Peggy and said she was the daughter she never had. Her leaving had hurt his ma just as much as it had him. He was a little more stunned at seeing the sun setting. How long had he been back there crying and cursing?

“Look, mummy! Look!” Michael waved the multi-colored cookie at Peggy as he ran over to her, climbing into her lap.

“I see, Michael. Did you thank Steve?” The boy’s head nodded, shoving a bite of the cookie into his mouth. Her eyes slowly looked up to Steve before dropping back down. She whispered something to Michael and then Sarah before slipping Michael into her vacant seat.

Crossing over to Steve, she stood with a foot between them, looking up. Her eyes were rimmed pink, a telling show she was crying. Peggy hated to cry, especially in public.

“I fucked up. I can admit that. I have no grand story to tell you. I have no excuse beyond my own failure and my own fears.” She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, her hands clenched behind her back to stable her emotions. Steve knew that sign. “When I realized I was pregnant, I panicked. My mother panicked. My brother panicked. My mother was a traditionalist and forbid me any contact with you. I allowed her to get into my head. I allowed her to control me in times of panic. I wanted you. I loved you. Hell, Steven, I love you. I should’ve come straight back home but I did not know what to do. Between Michael being dependent on me, my mother being dependent, and-and your career here. I couldn’t ruin any of that and I’m sorry. That’s all I can say. It takes away none of the damage I’ve done and I will forever be apologizing for that. I am not asking your forgiveness because I do not deserve it. I am not telling you to go bond with a-a boy whose a stranger to you and vise versa because you deserve to make that choice, I am-”

Steve cut her off, mid-sentence by closing the distance and capturing her mouth in his. By no doubt he was hurt, crushed, betrayed, still crying even but he couldn’t hear Peggy tear herself apart one more time.

“You talk too much, English,” he teased her, cupping her face. She opened her mouth and he shook his head. “Don’t. Am I hurt, betrayed, crushed? Whatever the hell you want to use, yes. God, yes I am. I won’t lie about that. But you have a child, you have my son and you went through all of that alone. You should’ve contacted me but you didn’t and now we both have to go through the consequences of that together. We have to work on that together. But I can understand why you didn’t with your mother…”

He sighed out of his nose and pressed their foreheads together, aware Peggy was crying at this point. Fuck, so was he. “I love you and never stopped and want to continue to love you. I want to get to know my son and…and…work on this. On us.” He pulled Peggy’s hand to his chest and squeezed it gently. “Let me take you to dinner – both of you.”

Peggy let out a blubbering sob and pressed her face into Steve’s chest. She sobbed to the point Steve’s entire weight was supporting hers, her arms wrapped around his waist and his around her shoulders. He rocked her side to side, kissing her temple. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you and I will forever be making this up to you, Steve.”

Yes, Steve was hurt. Absolutely betrayed. This wouldn’t heal overnight either, but he was relieved. He knew how manipulative Peggy’s mother could be, always controlling her daughter and her desires and reflecting them onto her. She threw a fit when Peggy moved to Brooklyn and lived with the Rogers family for years for an international program. She was finally home, away from her clutches, and he could help take care of his son. Get to know his son. This would a while to heal from but Steve would. They’d heal together and find a perfect balance between them.

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Steggy Prompt #Nonny Prompt #Peggy has a child #I mean they both do #Comfort/Hurt #angst/comfort #kinda terrifying #sorry nonny this isn't what you want

[izartn]

MDZS JGY fic promt

I’m thinking about Meng Yao/Jin Guangyao and I think I would love to read a fic of him snapping in the opposite direction of his desperate grab for power and respect from his shit father. We know, thanks to JGS gruesome murder that at some point, after already being a shitty human doing murdery things, JGY snapped hard and said: “if i’m gonna do the shitty things of running this sect i’ll do them for myself and fuck you to death”. Quite literally. 

So I’d like to imagine a world where he, like, not necessary becomes a much better person; I dunno about the JZX and WWX kill plot, or about NMJ. I think he’s very set in his auto-preservating self-beneficing ways, and if you don’t really work well with that part of his chara then he’s not JGY anymore. 

But instead of being, I’ll become the highest in the cultivation world, so i will be finally respected and listened to (uhm, didnt’ work especially well did it? they never let him forget his mother profession when it was his father who was the absolute worst) he decides that while cultivation is still something to aspire to -can’t forget about his mother dying dream, also longer life and health benefits + being a hero, doing the decent thing- he realises the cultivation sect system as it is horrible. 

He was in the middle of the war, he saw it from both sides. He then went to low to high but still a servant. And it’s always blood what counts. He sees what happens to his other bastard brothers, to WWX when he decides enough is enough, and how he himself is still treated by his Sect despite his intelligence and abilities. And instead of trying to take refuge in the system, he is a bit more self-aware or inquiring; maybe he is more idealistic in some ways? But still oh so bitter, and decides to destroy the system from within.

You know what? Do it so he still rises to Leader of the Jin Sect (without prostitutes murdering and necrophilia; he is now more on the side of the common, so maybe he gets the help of Sisi or someone he knows to aid him poison his father and after he gets them a nice reward and packs them to a new life in Japan or something. Or he simply uses another subtle method without intermediaries or with unaware ones, he is certainly able of doing that when he isnt being an ironic murderer shit.) because it’ll serve him, and to be the leader responsible of making sure the so estimated Jin blood is disposesed will make him smug pleased. To slowly gain power and bit by bit erase the division between the noble clans and people who learn simply bcs of talent, scouting youngsters witht the excuse of replenishing the clans after the war and quiting the idiots nobles from their spoiled positions. 

Hell you can even make LXC and NMJ (did he died before or after JGY becomes Sect Leader? Well if he is still alive, NHS doesn’t destroy him, but then WWX doesn’t come back. If he dies before, then the vengeance is still in play, but it’ll be even more fraughted bcs now JGY goals and methods are a lot more morally grey and watching WWX and LWJ confront that would be super interesting O-O), you can make them see those policies and be like, oh sure, that’s a good thing you’re doing A-yao. But also conflict with their positions in the nobility system, as time pases and JGY subtly passes more changes and brings to ruin those sect leaders more entrenched in the old ways and abusing of their people.

 Programs for literacy, for the spread of knowledge and the civil use of cultivation techniques with the excuse of avoiding beforehand the formation of ghosts and resentment appealing to the lazy nature of the rich while eliminating bit by bit the necessity of their existence, like boiling a frog, the creation of the watchtowers still fits nicely and we know in canon he faced oppposition there so here it’s more important still, even more so Su She I think, will be elated with this turn of events and even more loyal lmao if JGY sells it well and JGY sells his ideas really well. 

Maybe he helps XXC and SL bcs it’s in his interest they find success although he finds them naive; but JGY has a canon soft spot for people who treat him well regardless of his common born status, so. Maybe he intercedes with XY and convinces him to work with him taking out nobles reasonably (I bet XY will like that), and manages to avoid somehow XY elaborated revenge on SL and XXC? or executes him when he is too much of a wild card, but we know how that ended in canon... The best bet is making XY see on his own best interest to help in JGY vision but that’s well. almost crack fic lmao. 

OH! Maybe he finds XY before the massacre of the Chang clan bcs he is searching for someone to help him above table and gets to him by offering a more subtle but still suitable appropriate revenge with the pro bonus of getting to do the same to others after and access to WWX manuscripts. You know this has a much higher chance of working, let’s go with this scenario. So he keeps XY out of his father reach, when he is searching for someone to gain control of the stygian seal and wen ning. Yeah, this will appeal immensely to JGY xD

You know, and JGY being beloved by the people, and having more than a facade of being just or fair, but proving it although it isn't in the interest of the nobles. And as he is politics savvy, although with more effort he could certainly make it so he avoids assassinations or walking in a minefield like wwx etc. 

Depending on the NMJ situation... You could make it so NMJ doesn’t die and then they enter a stalemate of grudging respect bcs JGY wants more an ally in swaying people for his cause than his revenge, although he sure could make non lethal things to inconvenience NMJ lol. And NHS as sect leader wouldn’t have the same power to his decisions and reach, no matter if he is more manipulable; after all isn’t NHS a pampered noble in JGY eyes? Who could be sure if he even would follow JGY anyways... 

And you could give it different endings depending on the development of JGY: a success where he gets to the point were factually the sects aren’t bloods based anymore, just a few like the lan (those traditionalists lol) resisting an unavoidable wave of change taht comes for everybody, and the money doesn’t flow in their pockets like a river to the ocean but instead it goes back to the people. 

You could make it so it’s a partial success bcs JGY is still himself and does more than a few morally grey things that come to light with the NMJ murder reveal, but his changes linger and the common people plus others of the same ideal now trained and in process of being cultivators won’t let themselves be cowered by the awful nobility -another big conflict breeding, and maybe it won’t be successful but people have long memories and books and the new ideals of equality would spread regardless, so it would start again and again each time a bit better-. I think WWX POV in this case would be delicious omg, LXC conflict even more pointed. This would be, I think the more realistic and interesting to write take on the idea. Iand you now, I’m in favor of a novel setting and characterization, but to make it more painful, use the 16 gap of the show and nothing else (i haven’t see the show beyond the first episodes bcs i couldn’t take it lol)  so JGY has more time to make changes. 

You could make a downer ending (this I wouldn’t like lmao, but it’s there) so that shows the cruelty and inability of making changes to something so integrated and supported by itself, that JGY loses much to his revenge he takes more and more radical actions that come back to bit his ass with NMJ and JGS murder revelation. I think XY in here would be appropriate, in an antagonist role as in MDZS. But it still has an impact; JGY’s life, despite his faults was still more inspirational, made better impact than his canon self. Make it poetically tragic and a comment on the futility of trying to change society by oneself, but find beauty in the attempt itself which has created community, which will in the future do the true work of overthrowing the yokes of the high ups, educating and helping each other in their messy human lives.

All this ending, and JL conflict, who at this point has learnt much at his uncle JGY side, who has decided to (dunno about marrying QS and A-Song’s death. depending on your take and ending it’ll have different impact) go on with his labor bc he sees the good on it and swears to not be like the worst of JGY. A legacy he can reconcile with himself thanks too, to the experience of meeting WWX. JL is in a more fraught position with JC in this verse, I think, bc for one, he is more mature/not so spoiled and that would make JC glad, but his ideas are at the same time understable and anatema to JC who puts so much of his life on honoring the clan on making sure the Jiang carry on and his name isn’t forgotten but who recruited from nothing during the war. Who sees the danger in alienating the powers of the cultivation sects bc he saw what it did to WWX and he believes in protecting his own and to hell with the rest. 

So very interesting!!! 

You could spin so many takes from this, it’d be so fascinating and satisfying. I’d love to see the chara of JGY developed in this direction, bcs he has so much potential to waste it in so petty goals. His ambition is certainly big enough to believe he will damn well do a silent revolution well. 

Just, using the classics to argue for equality and education and a good life even if you’re a peasant, using the cultivation basis and its suppose use to better oneself and the world in making a point of avoiding wars and violent retribution (to the public, he’s still a bit of an hypocrit bcs it serves him well to have a stick with which to beat his enemies lmao) and instead use diplomacy and a sort of rehabilitation or service thing. Because those ideas are there, in the different clasics and schools of thought (not confucianism, not as much) it’s just that the nobles and high scholars were never interested and used them to argue for a sort of natural hierarchy were they’re in top. 

 Let JGY create a new school of thought, and LXC and others seeing the merit on it. JGY has the reach and the intelligence and the ability. 

The best revenge is living well and destroying the system which allowed the other to harm you, the ideas, the means. Create a fantasy fulfillment ^^

#meng yao #jin guangyao #mdzs #cql #the untamed #i think tv folks will appreciate this #meta #writing prompt

[herpronuonsarefemslash]

Teaser for “Hop, Skip, and a Jump”

A Bellamione fic that explores what happens when the Department of Mysteries duels end in Hermione taking Bellatrix down with a whip, which leaves an impression on Bella when she's sent back to Azkaban. Luna invents a longer-range time turner, Hermione is lonely after divorcing Ron, and the Black sisters were just legendary for getting up to gay nonsense... https://www.patreon.com/posts/48881466 Harry is thrashing in Remus grip, refusing to believe it and trying to dive through the Veil. Hermione takes in the other members of her merry band of child soldiers.

Ron's a mess. Black eye. Split lip. Bloody knuckles. Dark red staining the tips of his sweaty ginger hair where it dips against a cut on his forehead. Looks like a soccer hooligan after a riot. Made excellent use of that table leg when he lost his wand, though.Full marks.

Ginny displayed raw elemental force with wind, cold and lightning that her tiny body shouldn't have been able to contain and reflexes none of them could keep pace with.

Luna was bloody terrifying. She nearly killed a man with an origami dragon made out of interdepartmental memos. Hermione nearly threw up after her first real curse connected, after the first time that she did magic that truly harmed another human being. Yet Luna simply cocked her head and looked curiously at the dragon and was about to pet it when it dissolved.Creativity and lack of inhibitions are useful in a soldier, Hermione supposes.

Tonks is badly hurt, but she's breathing at least. What the fuck was that curse? Dumbledore has been letting her read up on Dark Arts, supervised, and she's never heard of those elements being combined. If there's a person spending their rainy Sundays with a notepad working out new ways to use dark arts, it's probably Bellatrix Lestrange.

A magically amplified voice rings throughout the room.

"I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black!"

Harry slips out of Remus' grip and then he's gone.

Fucking invisibility cloak. One of these days, I'm going to hang him with it. ----- Never used an Unforgivable Curse, have you, boy?" she chuckles.

The dark witch's hand is not far from her own wand. She's taunting Harry about having to mean it when he does dark magic. 

Pathos versus logos, one French scholar decided when studying the topic. Someone can do ordinary magic emotionlessly, acting out just an idea. Not dark magic. Dark spellwork takes raw emotion and blood magic and dark rites more so.

Which also brings her to the disturbing realization that Bellatrix is not nearly as broken as everyone thinks, and at the same time, she's so much more broken than anyone realized.She's never seen Harry this angry, or this torn up, and he can't summon a cruciatus for a woman who really deserves one. 

Bellatrix can let one drop from her lips like its nothing, ten seconds after telling a joke. She's not cold. She's not empty or numb or hollow. Bellatrix Black Lestrange is just too much. She's always boiling over.

She's not dangerous despite being insane because it's not a handicap. Bellatrix is dangerous because she can use her own insanity. Uses her instability as just one more weapon. To be able to do the things she does, to channel wildly different emotions on a moment's notice like that... ----- Hermione spots a bit of velvet rope on the ground, not far from one of the entrances.

"Accio rope," she whispers, calling it slowly into her hand.Bellatrix's fingers are curling around that clawed wand of hers. Any moment now, she's going to make use of the fact that Harry's standing there, barking out curses he doesn't understand the mechanics of, his lip trembling. She's going to kill him.

"Flagellum ingis!" Hermione shouts and the rope in her hand catches fire. Crimson, bloody-looking flames. What had been a few inches of fat velvet is now a thirty-foot coil of nasty-looking black leather. The frayed end becomes a hard metal handle. She swings and, by some miracle, connects. ----- Shacklebolt stares at her for a long time, like he doesn't believe her.

There's a knock on the door.

"Enter," he calls over his shoulder. It's Tonks, wobbling on crutches with an expandable sack under her arm. Her typically pink hair is a messy gray and her metamorphagus skills seem to be trying to shift her dislocated jaw back into shape, against the bracing charm the healers put on her.

"Tonks!"

"Wotcher, Hermione," she chuckles.

"Get it?" Kingsley asks.

"Kreacher wasn't happy about it, but yes."

She tips the sack upside down and drops a huge book on the table. It's bound in crimson silk and black lace. No title on the spine, instead two words. Tojous pur. Always pure. The motto of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. "Looks a bit like fancy knickers, don't it?" Tonks jokes. ----- When the Black Grimoire teleports itself into Hermione's lap, no one's laughing. Arthur Weasley goes white as a sheet and Remus's eyes flicker gold momentarily and she could swear she heard a canine's whine.

"Hermione," Remus says, his voice scratchy and small. "Please. That's..."

"Dangerous," Arthur fills in.

They're all looking at her like she's Darth Vader, suddenly. Like she has to be talked down. Like she's suddenly the most dangerous person in the room. She looks at the book. What spells are in this, anyway, that it being in her lap makes the entire Order of the Phoenix flinch?

"I don't want it!" she protests.

The book teleports itself again. Where it goes, none of them can figure out.

----- The book comes back again the night before the battle. She asks Tonks over to try to get rid of it. "S'not something to be afraid of, little devil," Tonks says. "Doesn't have to be." Little devil is Tonks' nickname for her, after finding a photo of Hermione gothed-out at age eleven, a few weeks before she got her letter. She's stopped using it around others. "I'd think you'd hate the Blacks," Hermione mumbles.Tonks sighs, shifting her skirts out of the way and sitting down on the bench beside her. Hogsmeade is empty. Cleared out so fast that everyone left almost everything. They've been eating like kings, and it helps. Tonks especially is thriving. Crazy bitch decided to put the witch-or-wizard debate to bed for all time by rejoining the war nine days after giving birth, slinging spells while leaking milk into her clothes. "I think that'd be like using a time turner to kill my grandparents," Tonks admits. She puffs at her hair, which goes pink, then blue, then green, then turns to something rather like glass. "Being a Black gave me this ability.” "Let's take a look, shall we?" Tonks squeezes her hand tight, and together they open the grimoire. "I'll keep you safe." ----- She's staggering out of the Great Hall. Bloody. Aching. Alive. Before she can find a banister to lean on, Tonks slams into her. Hermione wails. "Sorry," Tonks squeaks. "Just ribs," she grumbles. "What is it?" "Page two hundred seventeen. Knowing what that curse looks like? Saved my life. Remus' too." Hermione huffs."Next time you're trying to thank me, let's talk, all right?" The Grimoire appears in her trunk on the way back to Hogwarts to re-take her seventh year. This time, it won't leave, even when ordered to. ----- Everything is pain and exhaustion. But Rose is gorgeous. She's everything. Hermione fumbles for her wand, gathers the birth blood into the air and then whispers out an ancient curse with her lips pressed to her eldest's tiny, sticky head. Not all curses are meant to hurt the one at the center of them. The Mother's Curses are darker than night and because of the blood linking caster to target, far more powerful than ordinary spells. ------ They split after Hugo's born. It's more to do with her campaign for Minister, which she loses by a hair, than the 'neglect' of Hugo who she keeps so close she thinks that Molly would have blushed. As divorces go, it's bloodless. Pureblood-muggleborn marriages can be rocky, of course, and she produced heirs for the Weasley line. So from the traditionalist point of view, the muggle divorce and the Gringotts paperwork don't mean much. The same ceremony showed that their children's blood bears more of her magic than his. For that reason, or some other reason, Ron never bad-mouths her in public. She never moves to have their names changed to merely 'Granger'. She hears 'mudblood' whispered for the first time in a long while. ----- On one side of her desk, the plaque bears bold green letters that thrum with sorcery. Hermione Jean Granger, Minister of Magic On the other side, visible only in the presence of a Dumbledore's Army coin, she scratched a second marking in one of Tolkien's half-right, half-wrong scripts of Elvish. here sits a servant of the elves ----- "WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR, A BLACK?" a woman shrieks outside her office. Hermione groans, dropping her fork back into her takeout container.Harry chuckles, glancing up from his case file. "Your damn fault," she mutters."You needed the help, old friend. Be a shame if paperwork killed you after all this." "It'd be the most evil thing that tried, so it makes sense." She flicks her wand at her office door. "In here, both of you!" she barks. ----- "Sarah?" Hermione asks, desperate to hear a human voice across the shuffling of papers. "Yes, ma'am?" "Something's been bugging me about...the incident." Missy stiffens. "What?" she asks, flipping another sheet face down."You said, what do you take me for, then added the word Black." There's a polite throat-clearing so familiar sounding that has Hermione scrambling for her wand and leveling it at a sixteen-year-old girl. "Right. Sorry," she mumbles. "Sounded a bit like..." "Umbridge," the girl laughs. "Professor Longbottom and Professor Abbot complain too." "I keep telling her that's going to get her jinxed," the boy next to her huffs. "Interrupting people who that lunatic tortured in mid-lecture rather than just raising her hand." "Shut up, Ballard." "Go on...uh...""Myn," the girl chirps, offering her hand. "Mynara Wallsworth." Hermione shakes it and then bows. "Enlighten us, wise one." "It's just that the Blacks are notorious. There's a bunch of scratches on the sixth-year Slytherin dorm's walls. Hard to tell with fading, but at least twenty. According to legend, it's one mark for each girl who got a hat trick." "A what?" "Each girl who snogged all three of the Black sisters during school."

[akinokisetsu]

Han Seungwoo as your boyfriend ✿

pairing- Han Seungwoo x Reader

category- fluff at first, smutty content in the end. 

warning- smut under cut. 18+ only! 

Seungwoo naturally oozes warm aura, honestly 

someone you can trust fully, someone who will hear you out any time

someone unbelievably reliable and mature 

that is how you got attracted to him in the first place 

he was different from everyone else and it didn’t take you long to realize that at all

you were the one who fell for him first 

so at first, you approached Seungwoo as far as your comfort zone went

your relationship at first was really good friends 

he enjoyed having conversations and spending time with you 

you two warmed up to each other quite quickly 

even if you fell for him first, you almost never flirted with him 

lowkey scared of his reaction if you did

a lot of comfortable silence together whenever you two meet 

maybe you two both having library dates

or you spending a lot of time in his studio 

enjoys each other’s company a lot no matter what you are doing, tbh

Seungwoo is quite aware of himself and his emotions 

which means, he probably realized right away when he started liking you more than a friend 

it was kind of a surprise to him 

regardless, he isn’t the type to stress over it much 

instead will observe you much more than he did before 

wants to carefully see if his feelings are shared 

he is an incredibly observant man 

in other words, this boy immediately realized his feelings were shared 

even when he realized that, he won’t rush the relationship at all 

is a firm believer of letting things go naturally/by the flow

however from your perspective 

you deadass had no idea if he liked or detested you 

okay, it was obvious he enjoyed being with you but to what extent?

panic panic and more panic 

“maybe... you should try asking him out on an actual date?” 

you confided your secret in your best friend Wooseok, who fortunately kept it a secret 

90% of the conversations you shared was about Seungwoo 

surprisingly, Wooseok didn’t mind much 

“he will just assume it’s one of our friend dates... ah, what do i do now?”

even Wooseok had no idea what you should be doing 

literally nobody will realize you two had a thing for each other

because literally seungwoo was the only one aware of both side’s feelings

when he feels like he had his fair share of fun, he will properly ask you out 

will probably confess after setting the mood just right 

i’m not saying he is a perfectionist- never mind, that is exactly what i’m saying

can and will carefully plan the entire scenario in his head 

wanted it to be something you will remember, but not anything too flashy 

so he decided to ask you out after another one of your friend dates 

after he walked you home, he purposefully kept making small talk in front of your house to give you hint he had something planned 

which you didn’t really pick up tbh

your heart almost leaped out of your chest when he softly covered your hands with his large, warm ones 

wordlessly, he laces your fingers with his 

his eyes never leave your face while doing so 

wants to remember each and every expression you show 

which is absolutely adorable when your whole face slowly go red 

your eyes staring at your feet, refusing to meet his 

but he knew your true feelings from the way your hands softly squeeze his back 

a heartwarming smile appears on his face 

“(Y/n)... look at me.” 

his deep voice sent shivers down your spine 

hesitantly, your eyes met his 

“i love you. i have for quite a while.” 

you struggled to maintain eye contact at his confident declaration 

happiness overflowing, that night ended with unforgettable feelings 

honestly, even after you two got together, not everyone noticed right away

isn’t one for that much skinship 

however, he loves holding your hand or have his hand around your waist 

anything more than that, he is mildly uncomfortable with 

being the kind of traditionalist he is, he wants to save all the affection when you two are alone 

Seungwoo is dad of 10 kids 

first one to know you two were dating was obviously Wooseok 

but he didn’t tell anyone, just assumed they knew already 

next one to realize was Minhee after seeing you two hold hands 

who told Dongpyo 

who blurted out to Yohan and Seungyeon 

no way any secret will stay one after those two hear it

within one hour, all 10 kids realized the new couple 

“HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL ME?” - literally everyone’s reaction at the news 

Dongpyo seemed most upset that Seungwoo didn’t tell them 

pouty.kids™️

dating Seungwoo pretty much means you adopted those 10 kids with him, so good luck new mom, you will need it 

teasing, teasing, endless teasing 

which you will get used to quite quickly 

but honestly, they won’t tease their leader that much as they would with other members

moving on 

Seungwoo won’t have you waiting for that long to kiss you 

your first kiss was just str8 outta romance novel 

quite obviously, he initiated it first 

will kiss you while you two are staring at the beautiful sunset in twilight skies just for the aesthetic and memory of it 

once again, you were oblivious to his intentions 

but then again, the mood was set just right anyways

with you leaning on his shoulder, fingers entwined while staring at the beautiful scenery unfold before you 

“(Y/n).” 

“hmm?” 

as he suddenly called your name, you lifted your head and stared into his  beautiful eyes

he won’t really ask for permission tbh 

you got the message when he started leaning in slowly 

as your lips brushed softly against each other, you could have sworn you felt fireworks ignite 

softest and sweetest kiss ever uwu 

however, that was only the first kiss   ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

trust me when i say you two share a lot of different types of kisses 

depending on the mood, he can make you feel like the most loved person on earth 

or leave you all hot and bothered, wanting more 

on the more serious side 

Seungwoo is the type to bottle up his burden and problems so as not to bother anyone 

so please, please talk with this angel from heart to heart

he has a hard time opening up about things like that but he really needs to 

he needs someone to break down his walls and will hear him out 

likes pet names to certain extent 

loves calling you “love” “darling” or “baby” 

your relationship will literally be that type where ppl are like “wait wtf they aren’t married?” 

that’s how comfortable you are with each other 

but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a crackhead because he sURE IS

you two could either be up at 3 am talking about the meaning of life

...or talking about how to go to platform 9 and 3/4 and invade Hogwarts 

there is no in between 

honestly, Seungwoo is just so complex and interesting person so he will surely never ever bore you

most importantly!! 

Han Seungwoo does NOT date just for the fun of it 

he genuinely sees himself marrying you if he’s dating you in the first place

all in all, he is such a wholesome boyfriend and person in general

he deserves all the world, please give it to him because he will sure dedicate everything he has to you ✿

NSFW CONTENT UNDER CUT

sex and making out with Seungwoo is always passionate and really heated

to him, sex is a way of showing how much he loves you with his body 

that’s why he takes it really seriously 

every touch, every sensation will have you grasping the sheets tightly until your knuckles turn white

he is a very observant man, he won’t take long to notice what you love and where your sweet spots are 

making love with Seungwoo is almost overwhelming in a deliciously addicting way 

he absolutely adores every inch of you and will show that with his actions

Seungwoo will make sure to take care of you in every way 

anything you want in bed, he will do it 

his personal favorite is eating you out 

the jerking of your hips when his tongue flicks your clitoris 

god, that is so sexy 

he will have you squirming and moaning mess in minutes 

Seungwoo’s eyes will never leave your face while he is eating you out 

the expression of pure ecstasy alongside your sweet voice?

he could cum in his pants right then and there 

will happily give you oral every time you two make love 

rarely teases, simply because he wants you to feel good 

absolutely in love with your moans and will want you to be as loud as you want 

is plenty good in bed to make your mind go blank and moans spill out uncontrollably anyways 

he is the type to forget his own pleasure instead to please you 

prefers to give than receive 

although the sight of you on your knees will have him hard in no time 

when he wants you, it’s painfully obvious just from the change in his gaze

this man can have you begging on your knees just with his intense stare

his eyes are just so sexy, like holy hell 

is teasing only to show you he wants you 

knows how much you love his tattoos and uses it for his advantage 

wears V necks when he wants to seduce you 

which works almost too well tbh who wouldn’t wanna fuck him when he wears that-

quickie is almost a foreign concept to him 

sex is not something to be rushed, he will take it very slow and sensual 

king of self control, it’s crazy how well he keeps himself under control 

unless it’s a jealous/mad sex ;)

Seungwoo is a really composed man, so if you made him mad/jealous enough to take matters into the bedroom...

well, have fun walking tomorrow ;) 

he can be extremely rough when he wants to be 

will show you the best of both worlds tbh 

a precious prince or beast in bed, you choose darling ;)

#x1 #produce x 101 #produce 101 #produce x 101 imagines #produce x 101 imagine #han seungwoo #seungwoo #victon seungwoo #victon #x1 seungwoo #x1 han seungwoo #x1 imagines #x1 scenario #x1 scenarios #x1 headcanons #x1 hcs #x1 fanfiction #x1 fanfic #x1 x reader #han seungwoo x reader #seungwoo x reader #seungwoo imagines #seungwoo x reader fluff #seungwoo imagine #han seungwoo imagines #han seungwoo scenario #victon imagines #victon imagine #victon scenario #x1 seungwoo x reader

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 26: The Consummation

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1787

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, light fingering, nudity, cussing, fluff.

A/N: We’re now officially into the second half of this series! If you thought that the rest of it was going to be fluff, you’ve been terribly mistaken. But don’t worry, there will for sure be a happy ending!

“Not so fast!” The man spoke with a laugh before picking Y/N up bridal style right outside of their bedroom door. Steve, ever the traditionalist, knew how important it was to carry her over the threshold on the night of their wedding.

“Steve!” She giggled, latching her arms tighter around his thick neck. “Careful of the dress!”

“Sorry, doll,” he smirked as he readjusted his hands, trying to better gather the puffy white tulle, “but this is tradition.”

Y/N grinned. “Alright, alright. If you insist.”

The Captain then began to take large, overly steady steps in the couple’s room. He was obviously being extra to amuse his wife, and by the sound of her growing chuckle, had definitely succeeded. Especially when he began to hum the ‘Wedding March’.

“Honey!” She gasped after being not so carefully thrown onto the bed, puffing a piece of H/C hair out of her face.

Steve tried not to smile at her shocked look, failing miserably. “Whoops.” He stepped back to close their bedroom door, toeing off his glossy dress shoes and slipping off his socks. “Guess I just got too caught up in the moment, sweetheart. Too caught up in what we’re about to do.”

“Hm.” Y/N bit her lip, sitting up on her knees. “And what are we about to do exactly?” She asked him, already knowing the answer. If the sight of Steve’s bedroom eyes weren’t enough to give it away, then his bigger than usual bulge was sure to let her know.

“Consummate the marriage.” He answered, fingers toying with the neckline of Y/N’s off-the-shoulder dress. “Make everything official.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Does it still count as consummating when we’ve already had sex?”

Steve just shrugged, wanting to get down to business anyways. “To me it does.” He let his hands wander to the back of her wedding gown, thumb and index finger undoing the tiny clip that was above her zipper. “As beautiful as this dress is, and as perfect as you look wearing it, it’s time for it to come off.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Funny thing, I don’t remember you being this horny when we first met.”

“S’just what you do to me, baby girl,” Steve began to unzip the bodice section, “can’t help it.”

Once completely undone, the gown pooled at her knees. This revealed her white lacy strapless bra, her white lacy thigh garter, and a pair of very interesting looking panties that her made her husband burst out in laughter.

“N/N!” He exclaimed with a huge grin. “You wore these to our wedding?”

“What?” She questioned innocently, glancing down at her Captain America themed underwear. “They’re my ‘something blue’... and white and red.”

Steve shook his head in delight. “What’re your other three objects then?”

“Well, my ‘something borrowed’ is this bracelet from Natasha.” Y/N took it off and put it on her nightstand, not wanting the other woman’s jewelry to get ruined during the upcoming activities. “My ‘something new’ is the dress, the shoes.” She then tossed her white stilettos to the floor, one at a time.

“And your ‘something old’?”

“Well,” the girl spoke as she began to undo Steve’s black bow tie, “that would have to be my darling husband.”

The man let out a boisterous laugh at her comment; the kind that he only did when he was alone with Y/N, or maybe with Bucky back when he was younger.

“I’m just joking,” she said with a smile, “the ‘something old’ was my hair clip.” She took the delicate piece out of her hair and placed it down as well, shaking her head side to side to let the bouncy curls fall.

Steve reached a hand up to her shiny locks, tucking a strand behind her ear with a dreamy sigh. “So fucking gorgeous, Y/N. So gorgeous.”

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her almost bare chest against his completely covered one. She placed a small kiss on his right cheek, then his left one, beaming up at her husband. “Language, Captain.”

“Oh, you little-” Steve stopped himself, shaking his head at her phrase. “I will spank you.” He threatened with what supposed to be a serious face, but the small gleam in his eye proved he was enjoying this just as much as Y/N.

She bit her lip in what she hoped was a seductive manner. “Please do.”

The man quickly raised his palm and landed a sharp smack on her panty-clad ass cheek, making the girl open her mouth for a yelp. But before any sound could get out, Steve’s lips were instantly on her own.

Y/N hummed when they separated, continuing to undo his half done up bow tie. “See, and I was thinking that you were getting tired of kissing me; after the amount of times the guests clinked the silverware and glasses tonight.”

“Never, doll.” Steve pressed another peck to her rosy lips, still feeling her fingers working on his tie. “Need help?” He asked when their mouths parted.

The actress shook her head. “Almost... done!” She exclaimed in joy when it was finally untied. “Now hold on.”

Y/N stepped completely out of her wedding dress, leaving it a crumpled ball on their king sized bed.

“Hold on for what?” Steve questioned, seeing her practically naked body run towards their door, undone bow tie in hand. “N/N. What are you doing, sweetie?”

The girl turned the handle and stuck her head out, checking left and right to make sure that no one was coming; wise, considering her lack of clothing.

“Doll!” The Captain whisper-shouted. “Someone could see you!” He saw her stick the tie out through the crack, and not a second later, slam the door closed with a giggle. “What did you do?”

Y/N rocked back and forth on her feet, doing a little excited dance. “I hung your tie on the door handle!” She continued to laugh as she stepped forward, unbuttoning her husband’s tuxedo jacket. “That way, everyone in the Compound will know what’s going on in here. Beautiful, passionate wedding night sex.”

 Steve shook his head with a grin. “Funny thing, I don’t remember you being this much of a trouble maker when we first met.”

His wife just shrugged as she threw his jacket onto the small table nearby, getting started on his black vest underneath. “Am not.” She added quietly, throwing that piece of clothing to the floor once it was completely unbuttoned.

“Whatever you say, babydoll.” The man responded, wrapping his arms around her waist and falling back onto their bed. This now made Y/N on top of him, and she carefully tossed her puffy white dress to the floor.

Steve brought his hands to her back and undid her strapless bra, adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothes. He noticed her beginning to unbutton his pants and waved his fingers through her hair, urging her to continue.

Y/N began to rub his semi-hard dick through his boxer briefs, making the man inhale breath. She slowly brought his cock out of its confines, stroking him up and down his length and pressing a small kiss to the tip.

“Fuck, baby.” Steve groaned, letting his head rest on the pillow beneath him. He felt Y/N take him into her mouth and started to carefully thrust his hips up and down, making sure not to go too strong.

The girl bobbed her head, taking more and more of him each time. It was no secret to her that Steve’s penis was extremely large in size, so whatever area she couldn’t fit got massaged by her nimble hands.

“Sweetheart,” the man grunted, lifting her face off of his manhood, “if you keep up with that, I’m going to finish a lot sooner than you would like.”

“S’okay.”

“No, no, doll.” Steve stated, unbuttoning his white dress shirt and getting rid of it. “It’s your turn. Get on your back.”

Y/N followed his command and laid all the way down, giving her husband a big smile as he finished getting undressed.

It wasn’t too long until he was crawling over top of her, sliding the Captain America panties down her smooth legs. Steve moved his face southern and licked a stripe up her wet pussy.

His wife moaned in response, tangling her fingers in his now-messy blonde locks. “St-Stevie.”

The man smirked from between her thighs. “Feel nice, darling?” He continued with his assault on her core, making sure to spend extra time on her most sensitive areas; the places that he knew drove her the most crazy. If Y/N’s body was a machine, Steve had memorized the instruction manual forwards and backwards by now.

“Uh huh.” The girl nodded. “P-Please-”

“‘Please’ what, beautiful?”

She got up on shaky elbows, looking him in the eye. “Please fuck me.” She watched as Steve grinned like the ‘Cheshire Cat’, standing up and moving towards the drawer where they kept the condoms. “Wait, though.”

The Captain stopped. “What?”

“D-Do we really need to use one?” Y/N spoke nervously, suddenly unsure of herself. “I mean, I am on the pill. And, uh, I’d love to feel you tonight.”

Steve smiled even brighter than before, heading back towards the bed. “That sounds great, baby girl.” He used his fingers to spread her hole further open, scissoring them as wide as they could go. He then lined himself up with her wanting vagina, arms resting beside her head. “Ready?”

Y/N nodded once again before feeling his tip push into her, mewling at the sensation. As Steve bottomed out, she let out a heavy sigh of pleasure. Feeling him without the protection was a whole new realm of enjoyment, and she looked forward to many more years of it in the future.

The man began to push in and out, building up speed as he went. He lifted Y/N’s legs over his shoulders to hit a deeper angle, reaching a hand down play with her clit.

“I n-need to cum, honey.” Y/N whined, fingernails scraping up and down Steve’s back. She knew that there’d be marks, but his super soldier serum would heal them right away.

“Cum with me, N/N.” He told her, leaning down to kiss her on the lips. “Together, babydoll.”

And so they did. The squeeze of Y/N’s walls around his member and the feel of her warm juices surrounding his bare cock was enough to trigger Steve’s own release. He spilled inside of her, and the feeling felt so foreign, yet so amazing to the both of them. It was the first time that they’d orgasmed as husband and wife, and to say that the pair was satisfied would be an understatement.

Marriage: Consummated.

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction

[feed-the-birdss]

The Promise

Author’s Note: I know it’s been awhile since I’ve been active, but life has been so busy, that I took a mini impromptu hiatus. That being said, things are starting to calm down now that I am more used to NYC life, and I am so excited to catch up on everything I’ve missed--especially @petals-to-fish story Fearlessly Red and @blitheringmcgonagall story We Can Be Heroes. Nonetheless, here is something I’ve finally had time to finish today!! I really hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think. I love all kinds of reviews!!

Read it here on fanfic

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn’t mine.

“Daddy?” twelve-year-old Lily asked quietly.

“Yes sweetheart?” responded Mr. Evans not looking up from his newspaper.

“Daddy, you need to promise me, from the bottom of your heart, that you will never let me marry James Potter, and I mean never, can you do that?” declared Lily.

Mr. Evans just chuckled, “Sure thing darling,” he said somewhat absentmindedly as his eyes still moved across the page of his paper.

Lily got up, walked around the kitchen table, and ripped the paper right out of his hands. “Daddy this is serious! PROMISE me, you will never let me marry him. I mean it. It can never happen. If I wanted to marry him, it would mean I’ve gone crazy!!” Mr. Evans stared at his youngest daughter with wide-eyed concern over her absolute resolve. Her bright green eyes, so much like his own, were piercing his soul, begging for his help, and he could never refuse his little girl when she was looking at him like such. “Promise me,” she repeated.

“I promise.”

           As a Gryffindor, James Potter was rarely nervous even though there was plenty in his life he should be nervous about. Fighting in a deadly war with his girlfriend and best friends—easy—the other side were a pack of idiots. Telling Sirius that he damaged his bike snogging Lily up against it and knocking it over—please—that would be more funny than anything. Running around with a werewolf every month as an illegal Animagus—don’t make him laugh—a child could do that—heck—he did it as a child. Disobeying Alastor Moody—if he can handle an angry McGonagall, Moody looks like a teacup pig next to her.

           However, it was one of those rare times that James Potter was nervous. After apparating from his flat, he walked up to a simple looking house in Cokeworth. It was dark out, so he could only just make out the shadows of the perfectly manicured shrubbery out front. Stuffing his wand in his pocket, and using his hand to, once more, attempt to tame his hair a bit more, he held a knuckle up to the door, knocked, and then took a deep breath.  

           You see, there was only one thing in his life that ever made James Potter nervous: Lily Evans. He’d gotten past the nerves for, you know, just generally being in her presence after a year of dating, and this year has made him realize that he always wanted to be in her general presence—for the rest of his life if he could help it. So that’s why he’s here, outside the Evans’ house, with a speech in his head, and butterflies in his stomach. He was going to ask for Mr. and Mrs. Evans’ blessing to marry their youngest daughter.

           After a few agonizingly silent seconds, James heard some shuffling behind the door followed by the knob turning and the door opening to reveal Mr. Evans.

           “James? What are you doing here? Is Lily okay?” Asked Mr. Evans eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

           “Lily’s perfect sir, but she is the reason why I’m here. Would it be alright if I came in to speak to you and Mrs. Evans?” James was surprised with the steadiness of his voice given the fact that the butterflies in his stomach turned to bludgers the second the door opened.

           Mr. Evans’ eyes widened slightly. James was pretty sure he was catching on. “Uh…sure son, let me just find her. Make yourself comfortable in the living room in the meantime.”

           James nodded and made the familiar walk to the living room while Mr. Evans scurried upstairs to find his wife. Sitting down on the plushy floral patterned couch, James tried to control his racing heart by taking deep breaths. He couldn’t help but crave a shot or two of fire whiskey to take the edge off, but Sirius refused to let him even look at alcohol before coming here citing his so-called low tolerance. Sure one shot in the past has made James do and say incredibly stupid things, but at least he was able to do those stupid things without bludgers pummelling around inside his stomach.

           He was starting to wonder if what he was about to do was another stupid thing in the long list of stupid things he’s done in his life. Now he’s back to having the same argument with himself that he’s been having for the last seven weeks—should he be asking for the Evans’ blessing? For one, Lily does what she wants regardless of what anyone else thinks. Two, she does not like aspects of her life being discussed without her. James loves these things about Lily. Her fierce independence is her sexiest quality in his opinion.

However, James also knows that while as much as Lily epitomizes a modern independent woman, she also values tradition. While she would never openly admit it, James knows that Lily loves it when he takes charge of a situation, how he always puts her first, how he’s protective of her, and how he loves to take care of her. She can do all of this for herself by herself, but James’ heart always soars at the small tug at the corner of her lips whenever he does one of those things. So, in that regard, the traditionalist in him, and the secret traditionalist in Lily, can’t help but feel that Lily’s parents, as the people she loves most in the world next to James, would want to be in the know about the biggest question their daughter will be asked in her life.

           Fuck, mentally exasperated James. Lily could still get pissed about this. He then shot up his hand at an attempt to stress-grab his unruly hair, but in the process of grabbing his hair, he knocked over a photo frame standing on the side table next to the couch he was sitting on. Quickly scrambling to right the photo before the Evans’ came down, he picked it up. However, he paused before setting it back down. The photo was of Lily.

           It must have been taken last summer because she doesn’t look much younger than she is now. It was of her curled up with a book under the tree in the Evans’ backyard. Such an image was so familiar to James. He can’t count the number of times he stumbled upon Lily reading a book under the tree by the Black lake when they were still in school. It was like she couldn’t read for pleasure unless she was under a tree given the amount of times he caught her there. With a small smile now gracing his face, James set the photo back on the side table with a steady hand and a calm stomach. Even just a picture of Lily could do that for James.

           At that moment, he could hear the unmistakable soft thuds of socked feet coming down carpeted stairs. Turning his head, he saw Mr. Evans returning with his wife in tow.

           “Hello James, dear. Lovely to see you,” she said kindly giving him a peck on the cheek as she approached him.

           “It’s good to see you too Mrs. Evans,” blushed James in response to her greeting.

           Mr. Evans did not make eye contact with him as he made his way over to the couch across from the one James was sitting on making James more sure that he knew what this was about.

           “What can we do for you sweetheart?” inquired Mrs. Evans with a sweet smile.

           Mr. Evans was still avoiding his eyes and was instead fixated on the carpet, making James’ stomach butterflies slowly begin to flutter again.

           With a deep breath, James spoke, “As much as I respect and cherish Lily’s independence and ability to make her own choices, you are both the two people she loves most in the world…Other than me of course,” James added with a cocky smirk to Mrs. Evans, who chuckled in response to his joke. Mr. Evans was now glaring at the carpet.

           James cleared his throat nervously once he saw that glare, and decided to switch gears back to seriousness and to stay on seriousness, “uhhh…right…now that being said, again Lily makes her own choices about her life, but because she loves you both so much, your opinions about her choices matter to her. So while she doesn’t yet know that this choice is available to her, I want her to know that you both approve of it before I offer her this choice.” Mr. Evans’ glare was only sharpening, so screw the butterflies and the bludgers—a  hoard of angry Hungarian horntails were now taking residence in his stomach.

           James took another deep breath to try and calm his thundering heart which he was quite sure could be heard all the way over in America, “So, with that, I hope I can get your blessings…um from both of you…in asking Lily to marry me,” James sucked in another breath as he finished his statement, and held it as he waited for their response.

           Mrs. Evans responded almost right away, “Oh James! This is so exciting! Of course we would love it if you and Lily got married. I mean, you’re bit a young, but you’ve known each other so long, and you make each other happy.”

           James just smiled back at her with glassy eyes behind his glasses. He didn’t realize how much he needed the approval not just for Lily, but for himself as well until he heard it from her.

           Then his heart stopped as Mr. Evans started speaking—looking James straight in the eye.

           “Darling, please don’t speak for both of us. I’m sorry James, but I’ve made a promise to my daughter, and it is for that reason that you can never have my blessing to marry her.”

           James’ shock was consuming. He knew Mr. Evans wasn’t particularly fond of him, but he believed it was just because he was sleeping with his youngest daughter, not because he actually disapproved of him. Adrenaline started coursing through James’ body, but despite the heart-aching rush that was practically paralyzing him, he responded calmly, “Sir, if this is about you, as her father, promising to protect her, I assure you, that not only would I never get in the way of that, but I will protect her too just as she protects me.” James’ tone became increasingly desperate, ”Please Mr. Evans, I only want to make her happy, and I know I can do just that.”

           “I know, but protecting her is not the promise I am speaking of here.”

           “What promise are you talking about? Don’t let the poor boy suffer for your stubbornness. If you won’t give him your blessing, you better give him a damn good reason,” protested Mrs. Evans.

           Mr. Evans bowed his head, rubbed a hand over his face, and let it out with a heavy sigh, “The summer after Lily’s first year at Hogwarts she begged me to promise her to never let you marry her. No matter what,” he finished in a tired voice.

           James just sat there. The only indication that he gave to show that he had actually heard what Mr. Evans said was that his eyes were as wide as saucers. Is this guy fucking kidding me? James thought to himself. Lily was fucking twelve! If his parents still held things he said when he was twelve against him, he was pretty sure James would have his broomstick destroyed for finally cleaning up his act and becoming head boy.

           Mrs. Evans, however, after her momentary shock at her husband’s admission began to laugh.

           Mr. Evans glared at his wife, “What on earth could be funny to you? This is no laughing matter.”

           The laughing abruptly stopped. Mrs. Evans stared at her husband in utter disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking,” she practically begged.

           “Of course not! I would never joke about a promise made to either of my daughters!” bellowed Mr. Evans.

           “Not about the promise you daft fool!” yelled back Mrs. Evans, and with that yell, James had never before been so reminded of Lily by another person. Mrs. Evans continued, “Tell me that you’re not actually serious about keeping a promise made to a twelve-year-old.”

           “Again, I would never joke about a promise made to my daughter.”

           “Oh dear lord!” Mrs. Evans exasperated with rolling eyes, “You do realize that if I had known you when I was twelve then I probably would’ve asked my father to promise me to the same thing. And let’s not forget that you once also promised Lily that you would sleep in her closet every night until the monsters went away, but we both know that you snuck away after she fell asleep each night.”

           “Well that’s because the monsters went away by the time I left,” replied Mr. Evans stubbornly.

           “My point still stands darling, you can’t hold the requests of a twelve-year-old against the young man sitting in front of you here today.”

           It was as if Mr. Evans was reminded of James’ presence, as he returned his glare back at the boy that sought to break a promise.

           James took this as his cue to chime in, “If I may sir, I…uuhh…respect your…um…determination on keeping your promise to Lily, but I think…no…I know Lily sees things differently now. Also, we both know that, promise or not, Lily will marry me if she wants to, and I am pretty sure she does otherwise I wouldn’t be asking.”

           “And what makes you think that my daughter, the girl who once claimed that she’d have to have gone crazy to ever want to you, wants to marry you boy?” inquired Mr. Evans menacingly.

           James laughed. That sounded like something Lily would say. He paused before answering the question, thinking carefully about his words. While he knew he didn’t need it, he still wanted Mr. Evans’ blessing. He wanted his future father-in-law to know, that the man that he is today, is worthy, as anyone could ever be, for Lily.

“We’re in love, and there’s a war going on.” James’s shoulders stooped with a heavy sigh at this knowledge, “this war has put everything into perspective for the both of us in terms of what matters most, and that’s each other. You both know Lily,” James smiled fondly, “she doesn’t do anything half-assed. She loves with everything she has, and we’ve both been looking for ways to show that our love for one another is certain when the war has made everything else uncertain, and I believe one way to do that is marriage, and I think she would agree with me there.”

           Mr. Evans’ shoulders too stooped with the heavy burden of war. He looked at the boy who so clearly loved his love his daughter, and thought about his promise to Lily.

When Lily first told him in a letter from Hogwarts just last October that she was dating the infamous James Potter, he spit out his morning coffee in shock much to Petunia’s utter disgust. However, he kept quiet thinking that Lily would come to her senses and remember what she once begged of him. Yet Lily’s genuine feelings for James became harder and harder to deny as the days of then dating him turned from days, to weeks, to months to now a year. Clearly, Lily either didn’t even remember the promise or just simply didn’t care about it. Whenever she spoke about James on the phone or at one of their afternoon teas, her love for James permeated every aspect of her being. She couldn’t contain it if she tried. It was in the way her eyes lit up as she spoke his name, or the way her voice would always have a hint of mirth in it as she told him stories about their time together.

James was right, Lily does love with everything she has. And his Lily wouldn’t love just anyone, it was clear that James had grown up alongside with Lily’s opinion of him. So deep down, Mr. Evans knew the promise was moot early on in their relationship. Nonetheless, like any loving father with a daughter, he stubbornly held on to any somewhat valid excuse he had to stop his little girl from becoming a woman. Lily would be so mad at him if she ever found out about this. As she should, his conscious spat at him.

           Not wanting to disappoint his daughter by denying her something she possibly wants, Mr. Evans looked back up to James with a heavy heart, “You’re a good man James. A better man than the one it seemed you might’ve become given the type of boy you were.” James held his head down as a shameful blush colored his cheeks, “So,” Mr. Evans cleared his throat conspicuously to get James to look him in the eye as he said this, “I guess if Lily’s okay with me breaking the promise, I can make this one exception for her. So you have my blessing, but only if she says yes to marrying you.”

           James just nodded in complete shock with the turn events. To him, it just looked like Mr. Evans went from hating him to grudgingly accepting him all in the span of a few minutes.

           Mrs. Evans, at an attempt to diffuse the lingering tension, clapped her hands in excitement, “Wonderful! How and when are you going to ask James dear?”

_____________________________________________________________________

           “James! You didn’t actually believe him did you!?” Lily barked with absolute mirth in her eyes.

           “He can be so bloody convincing when he wants to! You of all people know that!”

           Lily guffawed. James usually would’ve been annoyed that she was laughing at him, but when she laughed like that, he couldn’t help but laugh with her.

           As soon as Lily’s laughter subsided to the point where she was no longer in danger of laughing off the cliff, she and James continued their walk along the Cliffs of Cornwall hand in hand.

           It was a rare sunny English day, so James suggested that they apparate to Cornwall, just the two of the them, and enjoy a walk together. It reminded Lily of when they first started dating, and they would just walk around the Hogwarts grounds talking, teasing and laughing for hours. It’s how she fell in love with him.

           “Do you think Dumbledore ever trims his beard, or is that tip at the end of it, his virgin stubble from when he was a tween?” questioned Lily seriously.

           James eyebrows scrunched together in thought, “I mean the ends of his beard are quite brittle. So I bet that his virgin stubble…like…crumbled off long ago maybe? Still, I doubt he’s ever trimmed. Grooming doesn’t seem to be high on the man’s list of priorities now, if ever.”

           “See, that’s where I think you’re wrong!” exclaimed Lily. They’d had an argument about whether or not Dumbledore cares about his appearance only too many times before. “Look at the man’s robes James! They’re always so impeccably stylish. I bet Dumbledore takes great pride in his appearance. The man is a Gryffindor after all.”

           “Gryffindor’s pride does not count pride in appearances Evans. Pride is much deeper than such shallow concerns.”

           “Of course it does Potter,” scoffed Lily rolling her eyes up to the beautifully clear blue sky. “You, of all people, are telling me that Gryffindors don’t take pride in their appearance!? James, forget the fact that you’ve lived with Sirius for over seven years, but you used to purposefully mess up your hair to give it that tousled windswept look you used to think was soooo sexy,” declared Lily with a sarcastic tone towards the end of her sentence.

           James put his hand to his heart in mock hurt, “Lily, love of my life, do you mean to tell me that after all these years of me purposefully and artfully messing up my hair, you don’t find it sexy?”

           Lily’s eyes just twinkled back at him teasingly as she smirked at him.

           “I beg to differ. I mean, Hell, you were messing it up yourself in bed just this morning,” argued James. He stopped walking and stopped Lily from walking forward herself by dragging her into his embrace. He then put his forehead against hers. Lily’s breath caught at the closeness, and she leaned further into his embrace, closing her eyes. His warm breath washed over her wind-chilled face as whispered, “Just admit it, you think me messing up my hair is unbearably sexy. You even thought that when you allegedly hated me back in the day.”

           Lily’s eyes opened, and she leaned back slightly to look him in the eye and grin as she replied, “In your dreams Potter. You and I both know that something big would have to happen for me to admit that.” Lily then pecked James’ bewildered face on the lips, and started walking again, “C’mon James, we should probably apparate back soon.”

           “Marry me.”

           Lily then turned around with an expression that mimicked James’ bewildered one from moments ago. She wasn’t sure if what she heard was right. The volume of the blowing wind and wavy ocean could’ve muffled any sound. “What?” She asked James, carefully walking back to where he stood at the edge of the cliff with his hand in his pocket and a look of pure determination on his face.

           It was then when James knelt down on one knee, and lovingly reached for Lily’s left hand to hold in both of his as soon as she reached him.

“Lily, there’s a lot of fucked up shit happening right now, and with this war, not much is certain. But I am certain that I love you, and that you make me happier than anyone ever should be in a war. So, Lily Marie Evans, will you marry me?” He then pulled a small red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a ring.

           Lily looked from him to the ring with tears in her eyes as she vigorously nodded her head, “Yes!” She screamed into the billowing winds and crashing waves. James chuckled in absolute glee as he shakily slid the ring on her third finger and stood up to pull her in for a celebratory kiss.

           After a few blissful moments of heated kissing, Lily pulled back and breathlessly said, “Also, of course I thought you messing up your hair was sexy. I mean, annoying at times, but still, incredilby sexy,” she laughed.

           “I fucking knew it Evans,” he chuckled before he went back to kissing her.

______________________________________________________________________

           Mr. Evans quickly made his way over to the ringing telephone in the living room, “Hello?” he answered as he picked it up and held it to his ear.

           “Hi Daddy,” replied his youngest daughter.

           “Hello poppet! How are you my love?” he asked.

           “Brilliant actually!” Lily continued, “I would have loved to tell you this in person, but since I have to work all week, and I want you and mum to know as soon as possible, I am settling for over the phone, but James and I are getting married!”

           Mr. Evans sighed. Just as he was about to reply with his reluctant congratulations, Lily cut him off before he could.

           “Also, James told me about what happened when he asked for yours and mums blessing.” She chuckled. “You didn’t really take my request seriously did you? I was honestly shocked you even remembered me asking you that!”

           Mr. Evans spluttered, “Lily you were a very tenacious child; so we were forced to take everything you said seriously. Regardless, any request of my daughter’s is one I would go to any lengths to fulfill. You should know that darling.”

           Lily was still chuckling, “Oh come on dad! You just wanted to give James trouble. While I appreciate you honoring years old requests, I will let you off the hook for any others you may still have up your sleeve. I have learned to settle my own issues by now.”

           Mr. Evans smiled, “Okay, darling. Whatever you say.”

           Lily laughed again.

           “I am happy that you are happy my dear, and I am sure your mother will be thrilled when she gets home. Any thoughts on when you will have the wedding?” He asked.

           Lily’s constant chuckles suddenly ceased making Mr. Evans nervous, “Actually…Daddy?”

           “Yes sweetheart?”

           “I do have one more thing for you to promise, and I will be holding you to this one for sure.”

           Mr. Evans gulped anxiously, “What is it Lily?”

           “Will you promise to walk me down the aisle?”

           He couldn’t stop the tears forming in his eyes, “I promise.”

#jily #jily canon #jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #jily fic #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #james x lily #engagement fic #feeding birds

[domjofabray]

Hot and Cold

Who: DJ Berry & Jo Fabray

When: November 21, 2020

Where: Jo’s room

What: Temperature Play

DJ

DJ was laying down on the bed, eyes closed as she let out a slow breath. She knew that temperature play is what they would be toying with, but the elements of that were unknown. She was naked, comfortable on her Domme's bed with a few towels underneath her as a means of being prepared and safe. She was relaxed, at ease, and simply content to let things happen as they would. They had had a good day together, and being at Devereux truly helped DJ feel more confident and safer, which allowed for a happier submissive.

Jo

Jo had all sorts of fun planned for their temperature play scene, and she looked forward to trying all of them out in good time.  But it was a nice scene - a slow scene, the kind they could enjoy without having to feel like there was a goal for them to reach.  They were going to have fun, and she knew it.  Climbing up onto the bed to straddle DJ, she dangled a blindfold from one finger.  "I'm going to go get all of the fun little toys for us.  But I don't think you need to see them in advance, do you?"

DJ

When Jo came into the room, DJ kept her eyes closed, relaxed and at ease. It wasn't until the Domme straddled her body that her eyes opened up and she smiled at the woman over top of her. She was so gorgeous. "I think you're right, Miss. There's absolutely no reason that I should know what you're going to use or when you're going to use them. That's for you to know and for me to find out." DJ agreed, biting down on her bottom lip. This made the entire thing even that much more exciting.

Jo

"That's exactly right.  My girl knows just what to say," Jo smiled.  "And we're going to have all sorts of fun.  That said, there's at least one thing that might push at a limit.  When we get there, I want you to be sure you're very vocal with me about whether you want me to proceed or not.  There's no guilt in turning down, I have plenty of other toys, so as usual - just be honest with me."  She knew that DJ would, of course, but it didn't hurt to reinforce the concept just a little.

DJ

She paused when Jo said that there was something that might push at a limit, feeling her heart rate pick up and her body tensing. She didn't know what it was that might push at a limit or which limit would be pushed, but she took a few deep breaths and nodded in understanding. "I will do all of that, Domina. I promise. Thank you for letting me know that there is something that might push at a limit." DJ trusted her Domme so much and it was moments like this that reinforced that trust; and that she was right to put the trust in the blonde.

Jo

"Of course, love.  I'd never push at a limit without making sure that you knew about it in advance."  There was no quicker way to break a scene, or indeed trust, then to push a limit with someone who wasn't expecting it.  That was so simple and so basic that anyone who forgot it should be ashamed of themselves.  "That's my girl."  Securing the blindfold in place, Jo gave her one more kiss.  "I'm just going to grab everything we need.  I won't be any further than the kitchen, and the bedroom door will be closed to be sure that you're safe for the moment I'm gone."

DJ

She nodded her head in understanding. She recognized that Jo wouldn't do that, but she still had felt the need to express her gratitude to Jo for being the type of person, the Domme, that she could trust with things like this. She closed her eyes as Jo fit the blindfold over her eyes, relaxing into the bed as lips pressed against her own. There was nothing, and no one, more calming than Jo. One touch, one word, even just her being so close to DJ had an effect on the submissive that no one could ever live up to. She winced at the thought of Jo leaving with her in the position that she was in, but she nodded. She was okay. Jo would be back. "Yes, my Lady."

Jo

"That's my girl.  I'll be right back."  She knew that she was leaving DJ in a vulnerable position, but it was literally for a moment and she knew that her girl could always safeword to bring her right back to her side.  Stepping into the kitchen, she collected her small basket of toys and added a few things from the freezer that she hadn't been able to take out earlier before opening the bedroom door once more to step inside.  "Sorry to keep you waiting," she murmured softly, closing the door.  "But I promise, it'll be worth it."

DJ

DJ couldn't be sure how long Jo was gone. It didn't feel like too long but the passing of time was almost a complete uncertainty when her eyes were covered. "It's okay. You don't need to apologize, Domina. At least the bed is very comfortable. It's hard to be upset when I'm resting here. Especially because everything in the bed smells like you." She uttered honestly, waiting to see what Jo had up her sleeve for the first toy that would be use.

jo

"I'm glad you were as comfortable as you could be," Jo smiled.  She pulled a few candles from the basket and lit them, setting them on the bedside table to melt a bit for afterwards.  "You're so beautiful."  For her first toy, she'd decided on something that wasn't technically a toy at all.  Getting up on the bed to straddle DJ, she opened a dishtowel full of ice cubes and set it beside her.  She lifted one from the bundle and pressed it gently to the hollow of DJ's throat, waiting for her reaction.

DJ

She smiled at the compliment, biting down on her lower lip gently. She couldn't see Jo in that moment, but behind the blindfold she could imagine what her Domme looked like up above her, straddling her, looking down at her body and just appreciating it for everything that it was. She gasped at the cold that was pressed against her throat. She hadn't heard it coming and so it had caused a jump and a shiver as she hummed. "I like this as a first choice, Domina."

Jo

"I'm glad you approve, my girl.  My line of thinking was that if I cool you down to start with, I can make it all the more fun when I warm you up."  And then cool her down again, and then likely warm her up once more, but DJ didn't need to know the entire plan.  Trailing the ice cube down from her throat, Jo traced a lazy path to her chest and began to drag the cube slowly over her nipples.  "You always look good wet," she smiled, leaning down unseen to wrap her mouth around one of the stiff peaks.

DJ

She hummed when the Domme explained that she would cool her down and then warm her up, wriggling slightly underneath her as the ice was trailed down her neck and over her chest. She had a feeling that she knew where it was heading and when cold enveloped her nipples, she whimpered softly and pressed upwards, once again surprised when warmth wrapped around a nipple just moments later. "Oh fuck, this back and forth is going to be torture, Domina."

Jo

When her mouth popped off of DJ's nipple, Jo grinned.  "Mmm, I think it really is.  But I promise it's going to be the best sort of torture.  And I shouldn't spoil the surprise, but I can also promise you that it's going to end with the kind of orgasm that you can still feel tomorrow."  Jo planned on them both having a lot of fun with the scene, and hoped that DJ would feel the same way when it was done.  Dragging the cube in circles around her midsection until it melted, she trailed one finger through the cold water.  "It looks like my ice cube melted.  Think you'd like another?"

DJ

Her eyebrows raised behind the blindfold when Jo expressed her hopes for the type of orgasm that DJ was going to have at the end of the scene. She didn't quite know what that meant, but she did trust that Jo only said what she meant. And if she said that this was going to be special, then DJ believed that to be true. "I would like another ice cube, my Lady. If that would please you too." DJ expressed, not quite wanting to ice cube portion of the scene to be over just yet, even if she was sure that what would come next would be just as good.

Jo

"That would definitely please me too," Jo promised with a smile.  "I haven't nearly finished tracing all of you with one of them, so it's a good thing I brought a bunch of them with me."  She reached for the bundle, pulling another into her hand.  "I think we're going to wander a little bit lower this time though."  Jo switched things up, holding the ice between her teeth and running it gently down DJ's legs.

DJ

Her legs jolted slightly when the cold reached them, her long legs stretching out even further. "You want to trace all of me, Domina? Does that mean I should be expecting to be flipped over at some point?" It wasn't often that they did anything with DJ on her stomach but she wasn't opposed when the scene called for it, and this might be one of them.

Jo

Jo couldn't help but smile, dropping the ice into her hand for a moment so she could speak.  "It does mean that - my girl is very, very perceptive.  My plan, and we'll see how well I've got this figured out, is to start on your back like this, go to your stomach, and then finish with you on your back."

DJ

She hummed thoughtfully as Jo expressed her goal for the scene and she nodded her head. "I think that that's something's that you and I can accomplish together, Miss Jo. Doesn't appear to be too tricky." DJ joked, biting down on her bottom lip and letting out a small giggle.

Jo

Jo had never been a traditionalist, much to her father's chagrin.  And that extended to her Dominance - she didn't want scenes that were all serious with nothing fun in them.  The thought of it bored her and she wouldn't want that for herself nor for her girl.  So when DJ joked she giggled audibly in response, stealing a kiss from the blindfolded girl.  "My cheeky girl.  But I believe you're right."

DJ

The kiss to her lips was always a welcomed one and she wriggled slightly in response. Her Domme was the best person in the world both to her and for her. And scenes where they could giggle and laugh and not always be serious were part of the reason that they worked so well together. "It's always nice to be right at times, Domina."

Jo

"You're right quite often, I have to say," Jo assured her.  "Very, very often."  She didn't speak any more than that, as she grabbed a fresh ice cube and began to explore DJ again.  Without flipping her over the backs of her legs were inaccessible, but she lingered for a long time over the delicate skin of her thighs and all the way down to her ankles.

DJ

She smiled at Jo's words, loving the way that she always managed to build DJ up. Whenever there was an opportunity to remind DJ that she was smart, good, or any other nice adjective, Jo was always ready to take it. "I'm glad you notice it, Domina." She teased again lightly, wriggling as the ice was dragged along sensitive skin, moaning softly when extra attention was paid to her thighs.

Jo

Jo didn't reply for a moment, her concentration on teasing every bit of skin that she could find without goosebumps all over it.  "I always notice it," she promised.  "Even if I don't say it every time, you can count on me noticing it every single time."  That was a simple fact, and she needed her girl to know it.  "Think I've got everywhere I can without flipping you over, love?"

DJ

She grinned widely when Jo said that she always noticed it. She had figured as much, because Jo had proven that she paid attention and cared about the things that DJ said or did, but it was always nice to hear. She hummed softly when Jo asked if she thought that she had gotten everywhere and parted her legs a bit more. "Not quite, Domina."

Jo

Jo put on her best look of faux surprise, which wouldn't have passed muster at the worst kindergarten play in the country.  "Oh my gosh, would you look at that.  How could I have forgotten that?"  Grinning, she reached for another ice cube and held it firmly between her teeth.  Settling her hands on DJ's thighs, she leaned closer and barely brushed the ice over her lips in a slow and deliberate motion.

DJ

She could hear the surprise, fake surprise that was, in the tone of Jo's voice and she couldn't help but giggle softly. "I have no clue, my Lady. Seems like a huge oversight on your part. But that's why I'm here right?" She joked, biting down on her bottom lip as she waited for what she now knew was coming. She gasped at the barely there touch of the ice against her folds, his pressing upwards as she wriggled. "Oh ."

Jo

Grinning at the way DJ wriggled, Jo pressed the ice more firmly against her.  She didn't want her girl too worked up too soon, but at the same time she was going to linger between her legs for at least a little while.  "It's a good thing," she murmured as she pulled the ice from between her teeth, "that I've got someone as smart as you to catch my oversights."  The ice was rapidly melting, but Jo kept it moving in deliberate motions until she stopped to rest it against DJ's clit with a grin.

DJ

"Exactly. Without me, who knows where you'd be." The submissive quipped. DJ's body worked to pull away from the ice as it pressed against her clit and she whined, her fingers gripping the sheets until her knuckles were as white as they could be. "I fuck...too much...please." She gasped, her toes curling as she pressed her own body more firmly into the bed.

Jo

"It's a lucky thing I've got you, then," Jo teased.  She held the ice in place and kept a careful eye on DJ's reactions, pulling it away again when she began to beg.  "Good girl," she murmured.  "Asking so nicely.  No more of that for now, I promise."  Setting the remnants of the cube back with the others, she stole a quick kiss.  "How are you feeling?  Ready to warm up a little?"

DJ

"Thank you, Domina. Thank you." She gasped sharply when the ice was pulled away from her sensitive bundle of nerves. "Thank you so much." She took a few deep breaths when she was relaxing against the bed and then pressed her lips back against Jo's as she kissed her. "I feel good, my Lady. But yes...ready to warm up."

Jo

Jo smiled, reaching up to press her palm against DJ's cheek.  "You're welcome, love.  Thank you for being vocal and letting me know how you were feeling."  At the confirmation that she was ready to warm up she reached for one of the candles.  "Let's get you nice and warm.  Take a breath for me - the first one can sting a little."  Jo tipped the candle, splashing a dime-sized spot of wax on DJ's abdomen.

DJ

She leaned her cheek into the touch and she hummed. "You're welcome." Her muscles jumped at the first touch of wax to her abdomen and she gasped sharply. It didn't feel any hotter than ut usually did when they did wax play and so she licked her bottom lip. "I'm okay, Domina. It doesn't feel too bad." She assured her, knowing that Jo would want to check in with the first drop.

Jo

"Excellent.  I never know if the candle's going to burn a little bit hotter or not."  DJ's safety, not her own pleasure, would always be her primary concern.  "Let's make some art - I've got this beautiful canvas here, and it'd be a shame to waste it."  With a smile on her face, she began drawing small shapes with the wax as it dripped.  "That's nice...but we need another color."  Swapping out the candles, she used the second color to fill in some of the shapes - all the while keeping an eye on DJ's reactions.

DJ

She stretched out as Jo began to make shapes and patterns on her skin with the wax and she let out a slow breath. "Can you please let me know what colors are you using?" She asked as Jo moved onto another color, letting out a slow breath and relaxing further into the bed. It felt good, relaxing.

Jo

DJ's request sounded soft, like she'd begun to sink just a little, and it made Jo glad to hear it.  "Of course.  If you'd like I can take a picture when I'm done as well, for you to see."  Her hand kept moving, filling in the shapes.  "We started with blue, for the outlines.  We're on to red now, to do some of the filling in."

DJ

She hummed thoughtfully at the others words. "I would definitely like a picture, Domina. We can add it to the space with the other pictures of these scenes that we've done." DJ mused, her voice quiet as she slid into a content feeling where everything in the world was good. All that mattered was Jo

Jo

"That is an excellent idea.  I love those pictures.  There's nothing more beautiful in the world to me than you, and those pictures we've taken of you being an amazing girl for me are wonderful."  DJ had definitely slipped, or begun to slip, into her subspace.  "One more candle, I think.  We need some yellow, just to brighten things up."  One more candle swap later, and Jo was writing a message in wax across DJ's chest.

DJ

She loved that Jo loved the photos that they had taken. She wondered absently if they should start taking photos of more of their scenes instead of just the wax play. Instead of responding with words, she hummed when Jo said that they were going to go to one more candle. Jo could have continued for hours and DJ probably would have allowed her, losing all sense of time in that moment.

Jo

Jo continued to speak as she worked - not because she needed a reply, but because with DJ in the state she was in it was important that she knew she wasn't alone.  "I don't think I missed my calling as an artist," she laughed at last.  "But fortunately you make up for that by looking so gorgeous." Jo set the candle aside and laid down beside her.  "I know you're getting a little deep right now, love, but I just want you to answer one question for me.  Once I take a picture, should I flip you over and do more, or would you just like a bit more waxplay before I let you cum?"  She'd had longer plans, but it seemed like DJ had truly enjoyed the scene and that meant much more to her than if they went any further.

DJ

When Jo slipped off of her body, DJ perked up just a little bit, trying to see what it was that Jo was doing or where she was going, but deep enough to not ask or worry about it too much. She forced herself to focus as Jo asked her the question. "I don't...either, Domina. Whatever would please you. I'm happy." DJ assured, at this point not even actually caring if she got to cum or not.

Jo

She hadn't been sure whether DJ would be able to answer the question or not, and so it didn't surprise or bother her that she couldn't.  "That's my good girl," she murmured.  "Just let yourself drift.  I'm going to go back to the blue candle now."  The remnants of her basket were put aside, to be used another day.  She was happy and content to see DJ sinking in front of her, and there was no point going much further than the waxplay and a good orgasm.

DJ

Hearing Jo call her a good girl, she grinned widely and hummed contently. "Yours." She breathed out slowly. Because she was. Every single part of her was Jo's and always would be. As more wax was dropped onto the front of her body, she let herself float in the darkness, waiting for whenever Jo would tell her they were finished.

Jo

"All mine," Jo confirmed, wanting to know that DJ felt assured of that as she laid there in her own space.  She took her time, wanting her girl to have time to lie there and enjoy the sensation, before setting the candle aside one last time and snapping a few quick photos.  "All preserved for posterity now.  Time to make you feel good, and then you can come back to me.  Just let me get a toy for you."  Kissing DJ's cheek, she climbed off the bed and grabbed something for her bedside table, lying down and molding her body to DJ's.

DJ

There was nothing quite as wonderful as the feeling of Jo's body pressing against her. She would be totally and completely okay if this was the last thing that they did. She didn't even need the orgasm even if she knew that Jo had already said that she was going to get to cum. "I love you..." She breathed out, feeling safe and happy, her body floating in darkness. Not being able to see what was going on had definitely assisted her in slipping into subspace more quickly.

Jo

"I love you too, my darling girl.  So very, very much.  Now, spread your legs just a little bit for me."  The wand was something she liked to play with, and this time there would be no teasing or play.  DJ was deep in subspace, she'd been a good girl, and the orgasm would be her reward.  Pressing it to DJ's clit, she thumbed the toy on.

DJ

She spread her legs when she was asked to, giving Jo room to move within her legs. As the toy was pressed against her, her hips pressed upwards searching for more, searching for whatever Jo was going to give her. Moans slipped from her lips as the toy was turned on and she turned her head, pressing her face against whatever part of Jo was nearest to her.

Jo

With DJ blindfolded her aim wasn't perfect, but Jo wriggled slightly and allowed DJ's face to rest in the crook of her neck.  "There you are.  You're perfect just like that.  Just let yourself feel that buzz, let it fill you up all over.  When you get to the edge, you let yourself fall over for me.  You don't have to wait for my permission."

DJ

She could feel Jo moving and when her face settled comfortably against her neck, she whimpered and pressed a soft kiss to the skin there as the vibrations moved through her. She took note of the permission that she had been given, in that she didn't need permission to cum this time and she rocked her hips slowly against the toy as the pleasure began to build within her.

Jo

"Just like that," Jo smiled.  "Let yourself feel so good, because you've earned it.  My wonderful, beautiful, perfect girl.  You look so good right now, with that wax on your chest and that needy look on your face.  Gosh, do I love that look.  You're going to cum so hard for me, DJ.  So hard."

DJ

"Domina...Domina..." She felt like there was no other word that she could say in that moment except for Jo's title. Except for that name that together they decided was perfect for Jo, perfect within their relationship. She whimpered into her neck, soft moans falling from plump lips as she chased the high that was calling her name. The consistency of the vibrations and the words that Jo was speaking working her towards that peak.

Jo

"I've got you," she promised.  "You're right here against me, and I've got you."  Speaking softly and clearly seemed to be working to help bring DJ closer to what would hopefully be a shattering climax, and Jo didn't intend to stop.  "Building and building," her voice was calm.  "Building up for me, and you know when you feel it that it's going to be the best feeling imaginable.  Building, building.  It's filling you up now, and soon you're not going to be able to hold it in anymore."

DJ

She reached out, grabbing at Jo's body with one of her hands, pressing her face closer against Jo's neck, breathing her in. She was feeling the Domme around her, holding her, drawing her towards that peak. It was like Jo's voice had taken her by the hand and was walking backwards towards the edge and DJ was following her, happily. Her toes were curling now , her body beginning to shake. The need and want was palpable and she pressed her hips upward as she cashed over the edge. At first, she was quiet and still, and then she was anything but.

Jo

Jo's words stayed quiet and calm, trying to pull DJ to where they both wanted her to be.  She didn't stop, didn't slow down, just breathed slowly and spoke in the same soft cadence until she saw DJ begin to break apart.  Grinning, she kept the toy in place as DJ shook and then crashed, the sound of her pleasured scream sweet music to her Domme's ears.  "My beautiful girl," she kissed DJ's head once the aftershocks had passed and the toy was set aside.  "Let's take this off," the blindfold slid off easily.  "There you are."

DJ

When the blindfold was removed from her, she blinked quickly until she could handle the difference in the light. Her skin was flushed and she reached out for Jo, wanting to keep the Domme as close as she could. She was still floating, still content but the need to be close to Jo, know that she was there and holding her had come back strong after the orgasm that she had just had.

Jo

The moment that DJ began to reach for her, Jo pulled her close and cradled her tightly in her arms.  It would be a climb back to herself after being so deep, and she would lie there for as long as it took without hesitation.  "I'm right here," she promised.  "You're right here with me and I've got you.  Don't rush for me, just lie there and come back in your own time."

DJ

She curled into Jo's arms, nuzzling into her skin again and breathing slowly. Her eyes had closed again as she let herself drift and slowly come back to herself. If Jo didn't think that she needed to rush, then she wasn't going to rush. She would let herself take her time as she laid in Jo's arms, safe and happy.

#thread: hot and cold #char: dj berry

[kpopisamood]

Queen’s Clan { 8 }

Summary: y/n is plagued by nightmares. She realizes that the more she runs away, the less frequently they haunt her. However, in running away, she’s also running straight into her ultimate demise. Will she be saved in time by those who would lay down their lives for her, even if they don’t know of each other’s existence?

Monsta X/Reader, Human/Vampire(s), Reverse Harem

Warnings: future smut?, violence, language

Word count: 1.97k

Tag list: @noonaduck @lovinggalaxies @elenaramos1 @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

***

You ever get so drunk you need someone to help you stumble back home? You make that special someone listen to your drunken ramblings and boisterous laughter while bumping them into things as they try to avoid you getting injured?

This was sort of like that, minus the laughing.

Add the cussing.

You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man let alone two to help you waddle to your room. Both Minhyuk and Jooheon kept trying to assure you this was no bother and that it was their sacred duty to do this sort of thing for you. Frankly, all this Queen talk was starting to get annoying. You weren’t some fragile being who needed an adult wherever you went. You were a bit lost at the new influx of information, and you were still forty-three percent sure these assholes belonged in some special institute somewhere, but you’ve been alone for a few years now and you could handle your own. If anything, these guys made things worse. The second they came in, everything fell apart. You had a stable routine of knowing when to move on but no, these geniuses decided they knew what was best and took you.

Fuck. That.

An idea popped in your head. Let’s see how far these guys would really go for their “Queen”. It was probably going to be a cruel joke, but dammit, this was probably the only way to see if they were being serious.

“I feel very faint, you guys. I think I’ll need help changing into something less dirty.” You sighed heavily, leaning to minhyuk’s side as they helped you up the stairs.

Jooheon slightly stumbles, almost causing you to fall completely onto Minhyuk and stammers that he’s willing to help with whatever needs you had.

Time to up the ante.

As soon as they helped hobble you into your room and light discarded you on your bed, Minhyuk went straight for your bag that you hadn’t unpacked yet. Throwing an arm over your face dramatically, you whimpered out that it was too hot in your room and needed to get rid of these clothes now.

Minhyuk was going through your clothes as fast as he could, trying to find something that was light and wouldn’t restrict you in any sort of way but you had other ideas.

“Can I wear your clothes?” You asked sheepishly peeking through your hand. They wouldn’t give you their clothes so casually, right?

“I’ll go get mine!” Jooheon exclaimed, running out the door before either of you could stop him.

Minhyuk eyed you warily, and approached you slowly. “I could have gotten you an outfit quicker than it’ll take him to get clothes, My Queen.”

“I know, I’m just not really wanting to get near that bag right now. Too many memories.” You explained, looking anywhere but him.

Jooheon rush in with a fancy looking suitcase and opened it on the floor in front of you, searching for anything you might like.

“Actually, wait,” You started. This was it. If they did this last thing you might have to somewhat accept that they thought of you as a Queen. “Could you maybe give me the clothes you’re wearing and perhaps...join me in bed?” You asked Jooheon, grabbing his hand from searching his case and giving him your best sultry eyes you could, tilting your head in a way that made your request seem innocent when really, your intentions were anything but.

Jooheon fell back from his squatting position straight onto his rear before he went into action. He stood and started pulling his shirt up, and Minhyuk suddenly got what was going on.

It was when Jooheon started trying to pull his pants and underwear down that you stopped it.

“Okay, okay! I believe you guys now!” You freaked out, shielding your eyes from Jooheon’s almost naked appearance.

“Believe?” He asked, still halfway in between getting undressed for you.

“She was testing us, idiot.” Minhyuk laughed. “She wanted to see how far we would go for her and I think she got her answer.” He smirked at you before rolling his eyes at Jooheon and telling him to get dressed.

“That wasn’t very nice, Y/N.” Minhyuk warned you softly. “One could have easily mistaken you wanting to take Jooheon to bed tonight. What would you have done if we were too quick for you to stop us?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know. If you had suddenly found yourself with two naked boys wanting to give you all their attention, you’d be done for. You don’t know if you would have stopped them had they went too far and the thought of them even getting in such a position was starting to make your heart beat quicker.

“I-I don’t know.” You shook your head miserably, head still hidden in your hands.

Jooheon was shocked, albeit mad as hell. He did the only thing he could think of before sulking out of your room. He went up to your side and bent down, whispering lowly in your ear and caused your eyes to widen and face to redden. His smirk told Minhyuk all he needed to know and Minhyuk followed him out, wishing you a good night’s sleep before closing the door gently behind them.

In your room, you were still shaken up over what he had said to you. You’ve never been talked to like that by anyone and for someone to say these words so openly and shamelessly had you feeling heat in your face and your core. You realized this was a bad prank to pull, but his words had left you feeling like your soul was leaving your body.

“The next time you ask me to join you in bed, you’ll need to beg, my Queen.”

***

The following morning Ms. Kudrow arrived bright and early without warning, much to everyone’s chagrin. Hoseok had let her in and let her start setting up a projector and some files, leading you to believe she was putting you through some sort of schooling.

Hyunwoo was also downstairs with you and Hoseok, eagerly anticipating what she had to say. Changkyun and Minhyuk were still sleeping and when Jooheon came in, you tried not to meet his eyes.

Ms. Kudrow cleared her throat before turning on the projector. A bright light enveloped the now dark room and she pushed a button on a remote she had to reveal a list of names.

“These are all the Royal Ardetha’s,” she started. “You’ll need to learn all of them and make some sort of peace with them now that they know of your existence. Most of them only want power and will be very forthcoming with you but others will be a bit closed off to you since they don’t really know who you are.” She clicked her button again, this time revealing pictures of several women and a couple elderly men.

“These people are The Council; they’re a group of traditionalistic members of the Royals that most likely birthed some of today’s Royals. We age differently in our world.” She explained, seeing your confused frown. She clicked the remote again, revealing more pictures of the Royals, this time with groups surrounding them along with houses and characteristics listed to the side.

“The Royals are all very different from each other. We have the wild ones who want to rebel,” she clicked to the next picture, revealing a night club and a very intimate image of a girl almost being swarmed by men and women. “Then we have those who keep to themselves and could possibly want to join The Council once they reach of age.” She clicked again and revealed a picture of a mansion that looked like it was taken in the 1800s. There was a woman in a simple ball gown with her hair pinned up, several men standing behind her with stoic expressions while she had a soft and elegant gaze towards the camera.

“As I said, you’ll need to learn all you can about them. There is a gathering that will take place soon and many of these Royals will be there with their respective Clans. It will be a formal setting and it usually happens once a year to discuss treaty lines and power exchanges. I’d advise you not to make enemies out of any of these people yet but I’m sure you knew that.” She clicked again to reveal a blank page with the word “Kings” as the title.

“One thing for certain is that you don’t speak to any of the Kings there.” Just as you’re about to tell her you can speak to anyone you damn well please, she continued. “Kings and Queens are very different in social aspects. The Kings attending this gathering already have a set of rules they follow from the traditionalistic ways and will only be there to court Queens. Forgive my language, Your Grace, but Kings attend gatherings for the sole purpose of breeding and extending their lineage. I know I just said you don’t want to step on any toes, but I’d like to advise you against any sort of interaction with them. They can be very persuasive and have been known to take over a Queen’s entire estate and leave her with nothing. It’s a politics game the moment you step into their territory and you won’t leave unscathed.” She said gravely.

She went to the projector and turned it off, while Jooheon went to turn the lights back on. She came over to your side of the table and slid a few documents towards you.

“I’ve brought along several files on the Queen’s who have accepted the invitation to go as well as what they’re like and who is in their Clan. Some Queen’s have actually Bonded together to form one bigger Clan to ensure more power and they could be very valuable to have as friends. That being said, I’ve also brought the files on your estate and the deed to the house your mother had, should you choose to relocate there. I’ve also brought forms for you to fill out since I see your Clan numbers have grown. You’ll need to write out their names and relations to you so you can keep them, the papers and your Clan, with you. If you should have any questions, I’ve also left my office number and your Clan will answer any as well. I’ll be back in a few days to run by some things you’ll need to have before the gathering that’s coming up in a few weeks and we’ll go from there.” She said quickly, grabbing her bag and slinging it on one shoulder, leaving the dining room and you heard the echo of the front door shutting behind.

“What the actual fuck?” You sighed, slumping down and putting your head in your hands. Papers on papers surrounded you, reminding you of your high school days when you had to study for a huge final and you felt completely overwhelmed. This was an actual lifestyle that they had. An actual way of life governed by people who were like them at one time.

And all these people are saying it’s your life as well.

What the actual fuck.

Please do NOT repost! All rights reserved!

#kpop #kpop fic #monsta x fic #monsta x x reader #monsta x x you #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #kpop fanfic #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #monsta x vampire

[rhythmsectionbros]

#dealor!week2019 monday prompt: cocaine

903 words / pg-13 for drug use & language  / not ~really shippy but enjoyable.... i hope :D

It’s an outrageous party –or orgy depending of your point of view. The concert went remarkably well, and some distractions have been planned in the French Quarter after.

They summoned half of New Orleans’ population (& alcohol), and it seems all strands of society responded to the invitation –particularly the most exhuberant one.

Brian is flirting with anything with cleavage, walking in the room with one lady for each of his long arms ; Freddie seems to have the most exciting conversation of his life with a douzen of people, by the way his voice reach higher notes than when he is on stage ; John is moving in the middle of the dance floor around groopies or stripers, losing himself in the beat ; and Roger is… surprisingly calm, sitting down in a corner, smoking a cigarette with his sunglasses on. He looks weird, kind of shaky, and after their exhausting performance, it would be normal to rest –but not for Roger Taylor, the legendary drummer of Cornwall.

Trying to catch some breath between two dances, John notices the drummer’s absence around the bar and decides to find him and to go up to him with a Vodka in one hand (for himself) and a Tom Collins cocktail in the other (for him, because it seems like the kind of thing he’d drink, specially in America).

Roger grins at the younger man happily when he appears, and takes the drink. “Deaky,” he says, and John wonders if he is not using his real name because he can’t remember it at the moment.

He settles for saying, “Hey,” and then: “The groopies wore me out, so I –”

“Thought you’d come comfort the old loser?”

“Stop that Rog’. You are not old.”

The blonde man smiles, so John settles down beside him on the sofa. In the most natural way, Roger’s arm falls around the bassist shoulders, and he sighs, before taking a sip of his drink and falling into silence again.

“I’m sorry about your last car,” the younger man says quietly with a grin, and puts his hand on his bandmate’s knee with a comforting pat.

“Deaky, you pronounced incorrectly ‘the love of my life’.” Roger bumps him and his hands are shaking, just a little, which makes John nervous for him.

“No, I mean –your Ferrari.”

“My reason for living?” he tells him, and now the dark-haired musician knows his friend is just being an asshole.

“Don’t be an asshole,” he says, and hits him on the chest, turns his face away, sips his vodka. It tastes strong, but kind of comforting. He likes the fact that wherever around the world they are, Vodka will always be Vodka. Some things don’t change.

It’s weird to sit quietly there with him, and when Roger excuses himself to go to the bathroom to freshen up a little (he is still sweaty even two hours after their show), John wants to follow him. He doesn’t want to talk to any of these strippers, or groupies, or profiteers, and Brian and Freddie are now out of view –and John prefers to not imagine what (or who) they are doing at the moment.

He tosses back the last of his fourth vodka, and makes his way – steadily – through the crowd, smiling and laughing and accepting “Congratulation on your fantastic show!" until he reaches the stairs, and then the bathroom. He knocks slowly, wanting to know if Roger is okay, and after no answer, he finally goes in.

What was he expecting to see? Him getting a blow job from some overzealous singer-wannabe waitress? A glimpse of his dick in his hand? Tears of exhaustation?

Roger is bent over the counter top, snorting coke. And John is paralyzed.

The drummer stands up and rolls his eyes at him. "Close the door, John,” he says, and he does, locks it, and Roger holds out the straw he was using. A rolled up dollar bill –no, a rolled up twenty. God bless America.

“Fucking cliche,” John sighs. He reaches for it and misjudges the distance, and it falls, unrolls a little.

With a soft smile, the blonde man bends and picks it up. “Nice mouth,” he says as he rolls it back up, tightly. “Especially coming from an almost alcoholic musician.”

“I appreciate the almost, thank you. But I’m not an alcoholic,” he informs him. “I’m a traditionalist.” But he’s never done blow –or heroin. Heroin is a Hollywood drug in John’s mind. Coke is more for rock-stars, but…

John takes the twenty, this time his fingers closing steadily on it, and pushes in front of Roger. Their hips touch.

“Just like that,” the drummer’s voice whispers as he holds John’s waist when he bends over, and Roger bends over him, his breath hot on his neck and ear.

John is careful not to disturb the neat rows of white powder. Roger coaches him through it: “Take a deep breath, let it out, start closer to you and move toward the mirror, go steady –”

Behind him, Roger feels hot and still shaking, shaking a lot, like he drank seven pots of coffee. The coke burns the bassist’s nose and tastes bittersweet in his throat, and the drummer’s body is still warm pressed against him, so warm.

In the mirror when John raises his head, Roger’s bright blue eyes are on him, pupils wide and dark.

#jogerweek2019 #joger #dealor #queen fanfiction #queen fic #john deacon #roger taylor #AND SO IT BEGINS