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sincerelyneo · 1 month

Note

omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore

its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖

ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3

arcade | p.js

“i’m out of control, full power up”

💿now playing: arcade by nct dream

❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???

"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"

You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.

"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.

“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”

You may have lied to him about that.

When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.

So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.

But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.

And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.

"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Pretty please!”

You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.

"Fine."

He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.

There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.

Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.

“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”

He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.

“How about we play some pinball?

"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”

“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.

“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.

“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.

He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.

You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.

“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."

Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.

"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."

It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.

Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.

"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.

You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.

"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."

As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.

But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.

The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.

You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.

After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.

He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.

You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.

“Just look at the camera and smile."

Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.

"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”

You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.

Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.

You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."

Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.

“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.

But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"

Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.

Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.

But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.

"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."

The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.

When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.

He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.

“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”

“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.

“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"

If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.

You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.

Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.

"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.

You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"

He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.

"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"

“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”

He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."

"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.

"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.

And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.

“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”

Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.

"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.

"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"

You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.

"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.

"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.

Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.

"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.

As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.

"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."

You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."

Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.

A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.

"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.

You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.

For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.

"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,

You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."

He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.

He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.

When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.

"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”

Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.

You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.

He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.

That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.

"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.

He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.

"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”

All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.

The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.

As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.

The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.

Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.

Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.

“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."

Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.

"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.

"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”

"Later?" You ask.

Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”

He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.

"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"

Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”

He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.

"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."

You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."

"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.

#nct smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #nct scenarios #park jisung scenarios #nct imagines

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afewproblems · 4 months

Text

The Holiday Party had gone quite smoothly, more than he was expecting if Steve was being honest with himself.

Until about halfway through, but that was pretty par for the course.

Jonathan had unearthed an old Rummoli Board from a box labeled 'Basement Misc', the Byers were still in the middle of unpacking from their move back to Hawkins, and brought it alongside a bottle of wine that Nancy had managed to smuggle from the Wheelers liquor cabinet.

Robin, who rode with Eddie and Argyle, brought pizza, the only copy of It's A Wonderful Life from Family Video, and way too much weed for just the six of them.

"It isn't a party without a little Kush Stevie," Eddie had told him, clapping his warm hand on Steve's shoulder, his thumb just high enough to rest on bare skin above the collar of his sweater.

All Steve could do was roll his eyes and take the pizzas, quickly ducking into the kitchen before Robin or, God Forbid, Eddie could comment on the pink flush that had taken over his face at the new nickname.

Robin had been insisting that Steve just tell Eddie how he felt for the last few weeks. Rip the bandaid off and come clean. What was the worst that could happen?

Which, really Robin?

Steve knows exactly what happens when someone puts themselves out there only for the other person to not feel the same way. His whole argument was currently sitting in his living room for fucks sake.

Sure, Steve and Nancy were on better terms now, but it also took two years to get there, and even still, there was a weird tension when they found themselves alone together.

So, no, telling Eddie was not an option, Robin.

Steve could keep it together. He could deal with the ache in his chest at the sight of Eddie's smile. Steve could deal with the way his heart beat quickened whenever Eddie said his name. He could deal with the heady flush that bloomed every time Eddie touched him.

He was fine, it was fine.

And, movie nights like these were nothing new in the wake of Vecnas defeat and the destruction of the Upside Down. Steve needed to keep it together if he wanted to continue to have this. Nights without the kids to look after or the adults to hide their indulgences from, these were the nights where they could truly relax.

These were Steve's favourite, and he was not going to let some Bullshit feelings stand in the way of being able to see Eddie.

This Christmas Eve found the six of them lounging on pillows and extra couch cushions from the basement to make the 'best movie watching set-up thank you very much', according to Robin, and watching It's a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth time.

"I can't believe that George Bailey would wish for something like that, when it's so obvious that people care about him," Robin scoffs at the top of her voice about halfway through the movie, prompting a irritated Shush from Nancy.

"That bro is depressed man, it's like a cry for help, and on Christmas, this shit is heavy dude," Argyle hums, lifting his fist up to Robin who shakes it with a wild grin. The two erupt into violent giggles which begin to creep into Steve and Eddie and eventually Jonathan as well. Nancy rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that takes over her face as well.

"Who would wish to never be born when you could just wish for the bank to like, not fuck you over, seems like a waste of a wish if you ask me," Eddie says as the last traces of giggles begin to finally disapate.

"Ooo, Eddie's right!" Robin says as she reaches for the remote, hitting pause on the movie. She waves her hands through the chorus of groans from everyone except Eddie who turns around to Steve with an incredulous expression on his face.

Steve shrugs as Robin continues, unable to look away from those large brown eyes until a hand darts out to smack him in the chest.

"Steve, pay attention," Robin huffs, "let's go around and share what we would wish for!"

Oh shit.

Steve turns on the couch to fully face Robin with narrowed eyes. She grins at him, lifting a single eyebrow as her blue eyes dart between Eddie and Steve.

Steve opens his mouth to argue, to insist that they just carry on with the movie, only for Eddie to drum his hands against his knees and speak.

"Oh birdie, I'm way ahead of you, this is Wayne's favorite Christmas movie so I've done a lot of thinking 'bout this".

Eddie clears his throat and lifts his hands from his knees now as though he's about to launch into a story for Hellfire, "I would personally wish for the money to be able to fund Corroded Coffin full time, get a demo done, and then be able to kiss this fucking one horse town good bye!"

Steve feels the words hit him like a bucket of cold water.

Eddie wants to leave Hawkins.

His wish, his dream, for forever from the sounds of it, is to leave them all behind.

To leave Steve behind.

The voices from the group, pitched high and low, all blend together into one as the rest of the group share their own wishes.

Steve absently feels a small hand grip his own, he looks up to see Robin staring at him, a worried frown pinched between her eyebrows. He answers her silent question with a shake of his head.

It was fine, he was fine. This was a good thing, better to know now than later when Eddie would inevitably leave him behind.

"Stevie?"

Steve startles as a ringed hand waves precariously close to his face. Eddie smiles faintly at him, one dimple on display as he speaks again.

"Kinda lost you for a second there, what about your wish?"

"Oh," he manages to say with a slight laugh in his voice, even as his brain fills with static, "um, I haven't ever really thought about it, maybe some new music or something".

Nancy and Jonathan both boo loudly from the love seat while Argyle nods with a hazy smile.

"Right on my man, sounds like Eddie'll be able to help when his band makes it big," he says before turning back to the television and slumping even more heavily into the couch.

Steve forces out another bright laugh, ignoring how much it burns his throat and crushes his chest. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the firm hold of Robin's hand on his own.

He doesn't look at Eddie as he leans forward to press play on the movie once more, letting the music and dialogue fill the room once more.

Later, as the end of the credits roll and the tape switches back to static, Nance and Jonathan are fast asleep. The pair are cuddled up on the love seat, their heads leaning against one another. It would almost be cute if not for the pang of envy that fills Steve at the sight.

Steve tries to bask in the warmth of having Robin cuddled into his side, knowing it will alleviate at least some of the ache in his chest. Robins eyes have been steadily growing heavier as she slowly falls further and further into Steves side. He smiles, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face.

At least he has Robin, and maybe for now that is enough.

***

This is a part one, let me know if anyone would like a part Two?

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #afewproblems writes #steve x eddie #getting together #holiday steddie #holiday fic #based very very loosely on the idea of a christmas wish in Its a Wonderful Life #been awhile since ive written these guys #i hope you all enjoy!#robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #please ignore any typos i wrote this in one go on my phone #part one christmas wish

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dragonsareourfuture · 3 years

Text

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

2K notes · View notes

sevlgi · 3 years

Text

hit and run

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: a shit ton of angst, some fluff

contents: idol!rosé, actress!y/n, closeted!rosé, costar!au, slight enemies-to-lovers, unhappy endings because i’m a bitch, a lot of attempted cinematic parallels, italicized dialogue is when they’re speaking as their characters

warnings: slight homophobia

synopsis: There’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with a costar who you should hate by all accounts. But of course, you manage to forget that love is usually more like a hit-and-run than a cruise ship.

a/n: while i was writing this, i imagined this as what happened before rosie sang “gone”, so maybe you can think of it like that too? i’m honestly so terrified of this flopping lmao...

for a little background on the film: Y/N plays Luna, a pirate captain who unknowingly sacrificed her family in order to have the power to fight the regime that Rosé’s character Helen is a part of. Helen approaches Luna, determined to help her bring justice, but Helen is unable to choose between the benefits of staying with the regime, and following what she knows is right and destroying her life as a result.

word count: 6.8k

The last thing you want to hear on the morning of your first script reading is that the actress playing your love interest in the film has changed.

“What?” you say loudly, straightening in the backseat. Your manager frowns, and you sit obediently, but the scowl doesn’t leave your face. “What do you mean the actress changed?”

“Yeah. She had to leave the movie at the last minute,” he sighs.

Sooyoung was chosen alongside you, after lengthy interviews testing whether the two of you would be able to handle your characters’ dynamic. It took weeks for the director to decide that you were the pair that she wanted, so the news that you’ll be meeting your costar for the first time in front of paparazzi is quite the shock to your system. “Shit. Then who’s the replacement?”

Your manager presses his lips together firmly before answering, “Park Chaeyoung. She’s an idol.”

You groan and slump down again. “Great. Another idol actress? Please don’t tell me that this is her first role too. Oh god, is she straight?”

“Yes to all of the above,” Chan says tensely.

Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it’s honestly a big deal. It’s the first leading role you’ve bagged, especially in a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie, and Sooyoung was the best costar you could’ve picked. You’ve never met Park Chaeyoung before, and you already know that all your plans are going to be messed up.

Chan pulls the car into the parking lot, and you scowl when you realize that most of the paparazzi have arrived. “We’re going around the back. Y/N, promise me one thing: don’t make a scene, okay?” your manager pleads. “I’m not happy about it either, but Chaeyoung has a good reputation. You’ll just ruin yours if you blow up at her.”

“I promise,” you answer through gritted teeth. You slip through the open side door as soon as you get out of the car, ignoring Chan’s call after you to have a good time like you would’ve.

To make matters worse, you don’t even get a chance to talk to the director or Chaeyoung before you’re swarmed by a crowd of reporters, even if that ‘talk’ would’ve consisted of more yelling than anything. “Y/N, Y/N!”

“Okay, let her up!” Seulgi shouts, pushing her way through. She grips your arm to lead you towards the cast table, whispering under her breath, “I’ll explain later. But just run with it, okay?”

You have plenty of problems with idol actresses, but you’ve never been inclined to say all those problems to their faces. Until now, that is. Now, you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with a girl you know has absolutely no credentials to be playing the other role in your upcoming movie, resisting the urge to ball your script up and throw it in her face.

There’s nothing wrong with Park Chaeyoung as a person-- she’s admittedly gorgeous, probably sweet, and you’re sure she isn’t a bad actress in any sense. The only thing wrong with the situation is that she’s painfully straight and auditioning to be your love interest in what might be Korea’s first mainstream lesbian film, and that you have never spoken to her before.

Chaeyoung avoids your stare with a clenched jaw, and in normal circumstances, you would already be apologizing profusely for making her uncomfortable. In this circumstance, though, your obvious grudge against her only contributes to the dynamic her character is supposed to have with yours.

“Miss Kang, is it true that the actors were only picked today?”

The director grimaces, and the both of you turn to look at the cameras flashing by the sides of the room. It was never the plan to allow paparazzi to sit in on the first reading that you and Chaeyoung would be doing together, especially since it’s true that Chaeyoung was only chosen hours ago, after the original actress bailed. Even though your grudge should be against the girl who left, it’s easier to glare at the one sitting next to you. “Not exactly. Y/N has been confirmed for the role of Luna for months, but we recently added Chaeyoung as Helen. But we can assure that their chemistry will be wonderful,” Seulgi reassures the audience. What a lie.

Yet another reporter calls out, “How much of the script will we be seeing today, and when will the trailer be released?”

“Since the casting was changed today, the trailer has been delayed,” Seulgi says. You can hear the panic in her voice, and clear your throat. “As for the script… we’re only doing part of one scene that will show up in the trailer today, so we’ll just let them begin. Y/N?”

As you take a sip of water to prepare yourself, you almost hope that Chaeyoung messes up her part. It would be bad press, sure, and it would only contribute to Seulgi’s stress, but it would be satisfying for her to realize that she doesn’t deserve her part. She’s just an idol, after all, and she’s taking away representation from the people who need it.

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you begin, your voice ice-cold.

You watch Chaeyoung’s throat bob, but her voice is steady and clear when she says her line. “No! I’m not saying that I’m better than you… but by all accounts, there’s no way you should have this power.”

“Would you be less scared then?” You pause, watch as Chaeyoung’s expression changes to the panic that her character’s would. “I’m kidding, Helen. I did things to get these powers, things that I’m not proud of.”

“Why would you do that? You’re strong… you don’t need them.”

“I’ve never been-- shit.” The tips of your ears start to burn, and suddenly, your lines are swimming before your eyes. Maybe all your hoping and wishing that Chaeyoung messes up has reflected onto you instead.

She attempts to remind you, “I haven’t always--”

“I know,” you hiss, but your voice is too loud in the silent room. Chaeyoung turns bright pink, too, but you still can’t seem to say your lines out loud. Shit, shit, shit--

“I’m just trying to help,” she sighs.

You whip your head to glare at her, and she winces at the daggers you send in her direction. “Shut the hell up--”

“Okay, the script reading will end here,” Seulgi announces loudly, and you bite down hard on your tongue. You don’t dare to look at the other cast members, don’t dare to think about how they must be guilting you for cutting their PR short. “Thank you everyone, please leave with security.”

You stay in your seat, staring at your script with burning eyes until you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt. “Hey,” Chaeyoung reminds you, “we can leave.”

“Don’t touch me” is your only answer, and you storm out of the room. Alone.

The next time you see Chaeyoung is the next day, at a script-reading that the paparazzi knows nothing about. (You do see a friend request from a Park Chaeyoung the night before, but you ignore it.)

Seulgi attempts a smile, but it doesn’t hide the bags under her eyes. She claps and raises her voice to get the cast’s attention. “Okay, everyone. We didn’t get what we wanted yesterday, but that’s fine. Um… let’s try yesterday’s scene from Chaeyoung’s part, okay? From ‘you don’t need them’.”

Chaeyoung nods. “You’re strong… you don’t need them,” she starts, worry tinging into her voice.

“I haven’t always been strong,” you reply, your voice harsher than it should be just to stop yourself from messing up again.

“Still. Powers aren’t everything, Luna, it’s too hard to have them.”

You sigh. “Newsflash, princess. It’s harder not to.”

“But--” Chaeyoung interjects.

“Did you ever think,” you cut her off, “that I didn’t care that it’d be hard? Did you ever think that the rest of us are tired of you abusing the thing that you’re given, but we have to fight for?”

You look right to Seulgi once you finish, ignoring the part underneath that says you should look to Chaeyoung at the end of the scene. The director smiles anyway. “That was great, you two. I think you capture the tension perfectly, which is a relief.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “I know that changing our main cast so close to the actual production is really difficult,” Seulgi sighs. “And I’m really sorry to inconvenience you all. The schedule is really squished now, and we just have to work through it. Chaeyoung, Y/N, all I ask is that you try to work together, okay? I know you’ll be amazing together.”

Chaeyoung speaks, possibly for the first time besides her lines. “Of course, Ms. Bae. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure. We have to cut this short, again, but we’re scheduled for costume fitting right now,” Seulgi groans. “We have to at least get the outfits for the trailer to fit. Sorry, everyone. Down the hall, okay?”

Of course, you and Chaeyoung have to get fit together. The only sound in the hallway is that of her heels clicking on the wood, and you resist the urge to shout at her to stop. Luckily, you arrive in the fitting room before you can.

Your eyes widen at the dress hanging there. It’s incredible, even without the layers that would support the skirt-- you can’t even imagine how the beading and pink silk would look on Chaeyoung. Ethereal, probably. “Y/N, yours is here,” the costume director laughs, beckoning you over.

Even though your own outfit isn’t nearly as opulent, you can’t help but admire the gold detailing on the cuffs and the tailoring. “Thank god yours doesn’t take so much sewing,” the director grunts, pinning the side. “You know, the two of you are going to look fantastic in these, even if we have to spill all that blood on them to shoot the trailer.”

“Sooyoung would’ve looked better.” It’s mean, and it’s a low blow, but the director doesn’t take your bait.

She pokes her head out to where Chaeyoung’s being fitted. “Now? Okay, Y/N, go out there. We need to take a look at the two of you together.”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping when you see Chaeyoung. She’s all candyfloss hair and gold adorning her tiny waist, and in all her glory, you can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe she was made for the role. “You look really good,” she compliments softly.

Nodding stiffly, you turn for the seamstresses. Chaeyoung moves to fiddle with her gloves when she realizes that you have absolutely no interest in continuing the conversation.

Well, if there’s one thing you can nitpick about her, it isn’t how she looks; she looks absolutely perfect for the role of Princess Helen, maybe even more perfect than Sooyoung.

One of the costume directors steps in. “Okay, you can get changed out, but you have to come back in a few hours,” she tells you. “We have to make a lot of changes, then fit you again.”

You step down from the podium, going towards your dressing room without a second thought until Chaeyoung calls for you. “Y/N? Do you want to have lunch later? In your trailer or something?”

“Sure,” you answer, barely glancing back. When you do, all you see is her with shiny puppy eyes, and in her giant gown, it’s eerily similar to the role she’s supposed to be playing.

“It’s nice. You’ve decorated it?”

You nod absentmindedly, clearing the narrow couch off for yourself to sit on, since Chaeyoung has taken the only chair that could fit in the trailer. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had it for a few months, so.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you frown. Chaeyoung apologizes too much, but at least she’s upfront about whatever she has to say.

Your costar sighs, “For usurping the role? You must’ve gotten attached to Sooyoung, and it’s got to be horrible for me to just… arrive like this.”

“You know… that’s part of it.” You can’t lie; a big part of the resentment you hold against Chaeyoung is the fact that she took a role meant for someone else, someone you were friends with. “The other thing… I don’t like idol actresses,” you tell her.

Chaeyoung’s brows furrow, and she leans forward. “Why? I mean, why don’t you?”

You pause to think about it. “Well… I mean, think about it like this. Sooyoung and my auditions went for weeks before we were chosen, as a pair. Didn’t you get this role because you were an idol? You had to audition, sure, but I bet you just flashed a few smiles and read the script and got chosen. How is that fair?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you hold your hand up and continue, “And the other thing. You’re straight.”

Chaeyoung chokes on air at that, spluttering, “What? You hate me because I’m straight?”

“No,” you say incredulously, “Well, I don’t hate you. But you being straight, and landing the lead role in a film like this… you’re taking away representation. And that’s kind of shitty of you.”

The air inside the trailer becomes suffocating, and Chaeyoung’s fiddling with the jacket in her lap finally stops when she throws it aside and stands up. She sounds like she’s about to cry when she says quietly, “Have you ever considered that I’m not straight? It’s not… it’s not that easy to be out about it--”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you groan. “Look, I apologize for assuming, but if you want to act in lesbian roles, you can’t pretend to be straight. It’s all for your fans, isn’t it? Another part of being an idol--”

She stands up, then storms right out of the trailer without another word, the door banging closed. The only thing you can do in response is sigh and utter a quiet, “Shit”.

Perhaps it’s just your luck that the first proper scene you have to film with Chaeyoung is your culminating kiss scene.

It shouldn’t be in the trailer at all-- according to the scene schedule, the two of you would’ve filmed your scenes together in chronological order, and the kiss would’ve been at the end, hopefully after a reconciliation between the two of you. However, for some inexplicable reason, it’s going to be the first one you do, without a single second of rehearsal.

You’re a one-take wonder, and you always have been, but you can’t help but think about how impossible it’s going to be to pull off such an intense scene with someone you just fought with. Sighing, you lean over to fiddle with your hair; it’s slightly tangled now, and there’s a fake scrape on the side of your cheek.

At a side, Chaeyoung is similarly beat up, fake blood smeared on the left side of her face. Her long hair has been put in an updo and then taken down, and parts of her dress are ripped; to you, she looks more like Helen than herself now.

“Okay, everyone, are we ready? Positions, please!”

You arrange yourself on the ground where you should be, holding a handkerchief to your cheek like instructed as Chaeyoung stands by the camera to run to you. Exhaling sharply, your eyes meet hers for the first time in days. “Action!”

Chaeyoung sprints to you as soon as she’s cued, falling in front of you in a heap. “Luna,” she gasps, reaching a gloved hand out to the ‘injured’ half of your face.

“I’m fine,” you smile weakly. The camera hovers by Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and you soften your gaze as much as possible as your hand comes up to hers.

The other girl only moves closer, her eyes scanning yours and her dress surrounding the both of you like a sea of gauze. Her nose is almost brushing up against yours, and you mutter softly, “Be careful. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Well, what do you want?” Chaeyoung implores, almost inaudible. Her breath quivers, and you feel it when you reach forward to cup her jaw. “Luna, what do you want right now?”

“I’m not making a move until you tell me to,” you shake your head.

The blonde’s hands slip off your face, and she braces herself on your thighs instead. She laughs breathily, “Coward.”

“Your coward, huh?”

Chaeyoung pauses, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip. It’s so quiet that you think you could hear a pin drop, and the torches held up by the crew flicker across her face so naturally. “If you want to be.”

There’s probably another line that comes after, but with Chaeyoung so close to you, it swims blurrily in your mind. So instead, you just lean up, pull her down, and connect your lips.

She plays along, thankfully, stumbling slightly in her character’s eagerness to get a little closer. The only thing you can hear is Chaeyoung’s slight gasp when you let your hands wander down to her waist, and it’s almost scary how absorbed you are in the scene.

“Okay, cut!” Seulgi’s shout breaks you from your trance, and you hold your hands up as if in surrounder. Chaeyoung’s cheeks are red yet again when she sits up, staring anywhere other than you.

Your director hops off her chair to run towards you, a huge grin on her face. “That was perfect,” she shouts. “Y/N, I think you forgot a line? But it worked out amazingly. The one-take wonder, right?”

You grin when she pats you on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Apparently, all your worries were for nothing, as you and Chaeyoung stand to monitor your own shot in the screen next to Joohyun.

You can’t even hear all the praise she showers on the two of you, and you pay no attention to all the details she points out that apparently showcase your perfect chemistry with your costar. All you feel is a slight squeeze on your hand, hidden in the mess of fabric by your side.

You jolt awake at the sound of your phone ringing loudly by your side, finding an unknown number as the caller ID. Accepting hesitantly, you greet, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Did Chan give me the right number?”

Oh. It’s Chaeyoung. “Yeah.” You clear your throat in an attempt to sound a little less drowsy, then repeat, “Right number. Why’d you ask Chan?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to find you when you never accepted my request,” she laughs quietly. “Um, I have to record the OST today, and I was wondering whether you’d want to come watch? Chan said you didn’t really have any scenes later today.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll ask Chan to bring me,” you answer, then hang up. Your head swims slightly, partially due to the fact that you woke up to the piercing sound of your ringtone and partially because you just don’t understand why Chaeyoung’s reaching out again. You should be the one apologizing, after the tangent you went off on, and you highly doubt that your kiss scene doubled as an apology. Of course, you’ll take it.

Your manager is more than pleased to pick you up this time, but thankfully, he doesn’t question you. If he did, he’d probably be the one you shouted at.

The studio is honestly too small for two people, probably hastily set up, but you recognize the recording equipment from a video of Chaeyoung recording one of her group’s songs. And you recognize the girl already standing in the recording booth, waving you over. “Hi,” she smiles, and for all you try, you don’t see a hint of malice.

“Hey,” you mumble, taking a seat. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Wow, straightforward,” she tries to joke. “What for?”

You scratch the back of your neck, sighing, “For assuming, for blowing up on you, for… I don’t know, kind of everything. I’m an asshole, even if what I said wasn’t wrong.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, fiddling with the mic. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but I wasn’t great either. You definitely had some truth behind what you said, even if it was kind of too to the point.”

“I know. You were just trying to apologize and help us become civil, and I kind of ruined it,” you hum. The other girl adjusts the lyric stand as you continue, “But I’m hoping you understand why I had to say what I did?”

“I do,” she agrees. “You’re definitely right that it’s not good representation at all, I just wish you had heard me out.”

You nod uncomfortably, changing the way you sit on the couch just to distract yourself. “So… you’re gay? I’m just asking because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it, and I’ve seen plenty of your interviews.”

“So you watch my interviews?” Chaeyoung teases. When you scowl, she just smiles, “I can’t say specifically, but I am confused. You said last time that it’s just another part of being an idol, and you’re… you’re right. It’s taboo for idols to be gay, even though Korea’s opening up to it a bit more now. So even though I want to, I don’t think I can ever be out about it.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

She swallows, throat bobbing. “Thank you. Hey, Y/N… would you mind singing with me?”

“What?” You stare up at her incredulously; it’s not like your singing would make the other girl faint on the spot, but you definitely don’t possess an angelic voice like hers, either.

But maybe it’s an olive branch. “Just… can you match this note?” She hums, and you attempt to create the same pitch. “Okay. Can you do the chorus part in that key, while I do it in the main one? We’ll sound better like that,” Chaeyoung offers.

Against your better judgement, you stand, and shuffle into the recording booth next to her. “If this sounds bad, you’re taking the blame,” you warn, and she giggles while twisting the stand so you can see.

You do sound good together, maybe to a level that you would’ve never anticipated.

You know that something’s off when Chan doesn’t wake you up bright and early on your birthday, even if Seulgi already promised that you wouldn’t have to go to work on the day of. After spending many a birthday with him, you’ve already gotten used to him tugging you up just to take you outside and celebrate somehow.

You know something’s especially off when you hear a female voice cursing from your kitchen, and smell something burning.

“Who the shit-- Chaeyoung?”

The girl turns in surprise, caught red-handed with a piece of burnt toast pinched between her fingers. “Um. Hi?” she offers weakly.

Suddenly self-conscious, you cross your arms over the faded sweatshirt you wear. In your own apartment, Chaeyoung is leagues more put-together in the summery dress she wears, her dyed hair tossed in a braid and glitter shining at the corners of her eyes. “Hello?”

“Chan said you wouldn’t be awake for a few hours,” she sighs, shaking her head as she tosses the toast in the trash. “And I wasn’t supposed to burn the toast.”

“What were you supposed to do?” you question, stepping closer. There’s a cake box on the counter, as well as a couple suspicious tubes of icing right by it, and you think you know what’s going on.

Chaeyoung huffs out an exasperated breath. “I was supposed to surprise you. Chan has something going on at home, so he sent me to supervise your birthday instead. Obviously, I messed that up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, taking a seat at the counter and reaching for the icing. “I’ve always wanted to decorate a cake anyway.”

She looks surprised at that, but a smile breaks out across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. It’s partially a lie, but you’re decently sure that Chaeyoung will refuse to let you do most of the work anyways. “Uh. I’ll just change first, and then we can get that going?”

“Yeah,” she grins, and you take it as your cue to scurry off to the bedroom.

By the time you come back, there’s a plate of not-burnt toast on your counter, and Chaeyoung’s pouring out two glasses of the juice that you can never bring yourself to buy because of the price tag. “I hope you like it, this is one of my favorites.”

“Like it? I love this,” you gasp, surging forward to pick up one of the glasses. “It’s expensive as hell, though.”

“Well, I couldn’t get you a gift, so I thought a nice morning would suffice,” Chaeyoung laughs. She unties the bow on the cake box to reveal a completely bare vanilla cake, a few packets of sprinkles that you hadn’t noticed now lying next to it. “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, sure.” You choose the blue icing after a bit of debating, and pick up the spatula that your costar offers you. “You didn’t have to, though, I would’ve been okay on my own today.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, and I wouldn’t like to be alone on my birthday.”

“How do you usually celebrate?” you question, glancing up at her.

She pauses to think, then answers, “Well, I do live with my members, so we’ll get something to eat. Sometimes, we’re on vacation, so we just do what we can, but I like staying in the dorm to receive the things that their families send me.”

“It sounds sweet.”

“It is,” she grins. “I honestly don’t know what I would do on my own, it seems lonely-- Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is kind of lonely,” you admit, squeezing a glob of icing out. It’s definitely not as graceful as you would’ve appreciated, and you catch Chaeyoung stifling a laugh. “Chan lived with me at the beginning, but he eventually moved out when I got a girlfriend. Obviously, that didn’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” the other girl repeats again, and you wave a hand out. “When was that?”

“She moved out two years ago,” you answer. “And I’ve been alone since. Or, lonely, not always alone.”

Chaeyoung nods just so that you know she heard you. She accepts the icing tube when you hand it to her, making a spiral that’s infuriatingly better than yours. “How about you? I know you said you aren’t out, but have you dated yet?” you question.

She shakes her head, admitting, “Not yet. I don’t really know how to, you know? You assumed I was straight when you first saw me, so I think everyone else does too.”

“Sorry,” you say, an echo of her.

Your costar doesn’t respond, only setting the spatula down once the basic blue icing is smooth. “I think we’re supposed to refrigerate this before decorating, right?”

You grimace. “Well, I don’t know. I stopped watching cake videos years ago, so I’ll just listen to you.”

Chaeyoung hums and ties the box back up. “Okay, then I’ll just do it. Um, do you mind ordering chicken or something while we wait?”

“Sure.” Reaching for your phone, you ask, “Would you be opposed to romcoms?”

“I’m never opposed to romcoms,” the other girl answers.

You have to remind yourself to order two servings of chicken, something that you haven’t done in a while. But it’s comforting, in a way, to not be alone again.

“Can you believe we’ve only got a week left of filming? I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

You wince guiltily, even though you know that Yerim doesn’t mean it. Acting with your friend was originally a huge incentive for you to accept the film’s role, but the two of you quickly discovered that you had almost no scenes together, and with your push-and-pull with Chaeyoung, you forgot all about it. “Sorry, Yerim.”

She makes an incredulous expression, swatting your arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m happy you’re pursuing love and all that, and besides, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to act together.”

Blinking, you set your cup down on the counter. “Pursuing love?”

Yerim raises her eyebrow and says, “Yeah. Aren’t you and Chaeyoung together yet? We’ve been filming for two months, I’ll be shocked if you still haven't kissed and made up.”

“Uh. Well, we’ve kissed, but I don’t think it counted,” you frown.

Your friend sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s all too used to how dense you are, and apparently, she’s finally gotten tired of it. “You’re an idiot. You literally met the morning of your first script reading, and you knew each other for… what, a week before you had your kiss scene? There’s got to be something there.”

“No.”

Right on cue, a few of the other cast members arrive, Chaeyoung sandwiched between them. “Have you seen the articles?” Nayeon grins, waving her phone around in the air. She’s drunk, obviously, but you have to indulge her.

“Which articles?”

She shoves the screen in your face as an answer, and you cringe when you find a screencap of you and Chaeyoung. “You won’t believe the chemistry-- nope, I’m not reading that.” You hand the phone back to Nayeon, then press it in her hand when she doesn’t take it. Yerim sends you a knowing expression, one that you definitely don’t like.

“Aw, come on! It’s good press,” Nayeon whines. “And a great kiss scene.”

“Don’t be weird,” Chaeyoung warns. She doesn’t seem to be drunk at all, though she does look fantastic in the silver dress that she wears. Your eyes linger on her for an embarrassing amount of time.

Nayeon pouts. She’s bubbly-- you’ve learned that much through acting alongside her in a total of three productions so far. You note that your costar doesn’t seem to be so accustomed to her temperament yet. “You’re no fun, Chaeng. We all know you enjoyed it.”

She goes bright pink at that amidst Yerim’s joking coos. “The token straight, converted?” your friend gasps, and you elbow her to stop her from going too far.

Apparently, it already has. “I didn’t!” Chaeyoung defends herself.

“Prove it,” Nayeon demands, slipping when she attempts to lean on the counter next to you.

Chaeyoung goes silent at that, apparently unable to find a way to ‘prove it’. You finally sigh, “Okay, I think that’s enough teas--”

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve long since memorized your entire script book, you would almost think that Chaeyoung reaching forward to tug on the front of your shirt is a scene between your two characters. After all, it’s perfectly in character for your eyes to widen comically as the other girl kisses you right on the lips.

It’s also in character for Nayeon to start whooping next to you when your hands wrap around Chaeyoung’s waist to pull her in closer. You part at the noise. “You certainly look like you liked it,” Nayeon grins.

“Yeah, get a room,” Yerim follows, and you shove her.

“You know what? Maybe we will.” Ignoring your friends’ jeering, you grab Chaeyoung’s wrist and lead her down the hallway, though not to a bedroom like you joked you would. “Hey. You okay? I didn’t know if that teasing crossed a line,” you whisper worriedly.

She bites down on her lip, but instead of answering you, Chaeyoung tilts your face up and leans closer, only stopped by your hand on her wrist. “Chae…”

“I’m sorry, this… this isn’t what you want, is it?” She steps back, mouth already opening to apologize, but you stop her from leaving you alone in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” With the flashing neon lights echoing in her eyes, you can’t tell what Chaeyoung’s feeling, and you can’t tell if she’s willing to answer you properly at all. “I’m not making a move until you tell me to.”

Still, you don’t hear her say a word, until your grip starts to loosen on her wrist. “Did you drive here yourself?” she finally asks, barely audible. You nod hesitantly, and Chaeyoung’s voice grows firmer when she says, “I’m telling you to make a move.”

“I thought you were questioning?”

She swallows hard and takes your hand. “Not anymore.”

You don’t taste any alcohol when you lick your lower lip, and so, you nod. It’s stupid, especially considering how quickly your time together is about to end.

But for once, you know what you want.

“Good luck out there, Chae,” you smile, arms wrapped around the girl’s waist.

“Thanks,” she hums, adjusting her hair yet again in the mirror. “We’re almost done filming, I have to promote us well so that we have enough money to at least put the damn film out.”

“Mm.” Your thumb smooths over the sliver of skin exposed by her top, and you place your chin on her shoulder to look at the two of you together.

She glances down at you. “What? Are you thinking about something?”

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just can’t believe we’re almost done, but we… we just started this. You know, this thing between us.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a thing. But it doesn’t have to stop with filming,” Chaeyoung says offhandedly.

Raising an eyebrow, you question, “Doesn’t it? It’s going to be suspicious for us to constantly be seen together after filming together, I’ve seen the way your fans behave. Especially while you’re not out.”

“I think I can negotiate that with my company,” the other girl shakes her head.

You joke, “What, you release another two albums if you get to come out about having a girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Chaeyoung responds immediately. Her ears pink endearingly, and you wait for her to clarify, “In secret for now, obviously. But… one day, I’ll be out about it. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises, okay?” You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her go when you hear a knock at the dressing room door. “Do good!”

“Alright, Chaeyoung, it’s about time that we ask you some questions about your upcoming film, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” your costar smiles, and you raise your head from your phone to watch the screen. She’s sitting cross-legged across from some of the most famous idol interviewers in Korea, absolutely poised and natural even in front of the crowd that cheers over the interview.

The woman behind the podium clears her throat. “A huge talking point in Korea right now is your chemistry with your costar, Y/N. How exactly do you pull that off, since you’ve never experienced a relation like that?”

Chaeyoung laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, um, I don’t have much experience with relationships at all, so--”

“Really? A pretty girl like you must have had a boyfriend or two before.” You despise the way that the interviewer leans in conspiratorially, as if the prying questions weren’t completely scripted. “But you seem a little to pretty to have experienced that, am I right?”

The crowd laughs with her, but Chaeyoung glances behind the scenes, probably to where her own staff sits. “You know, you can tell me if you ever felt… uncomfortable during filming,” the interviewer continues on. “Y/N has been out for years, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, she has…” You’re practically fuming, but you also can’t seem to pry your eyes away from the screen. All of Chaeyoung’s practiced idol-charm has seemed to dissipate into thin air, and she’s practically blending into the wall as she sits there.

The Chaeyoung you know-- no, the Chaeyoung that you’ve come to know, wouldn’t stand to hear something like that. You’ve watched her argue with a scriptwriter, and you’ve watched him get fired because he said something incredibly offensive, even though it wasn’t about you. But here, she sits still and just listens to the interviewer discuss you behind your back, and she says nothing about all the disgustingly backhanded comments.

The thing is, you don’t care about Chaeyoung not being out. You were closeted for enough time yourself, and you know how hard it is, so you’d never wish it on her; but watching her completely let go of all her personal principles just for a stupid interview is just another reminder that you’re letting go of your own. Chaeyoung won’t ever speak up, you realize, because her career comes before anything else. And you can’t stand for that.

“I’m leaving,” you tell the guard standing outside of your door. Only increasing your anger, tears start to burn in your eyes, and you scrape your sleeve across your face as roughly as you can. Chan picks up on one dial, and you say furiously, “Pick me up. It’s over.” In more ways than one.

Chaeyoung shivers at the top of the hill, where she’s supposed to be filming her closing scene with you. She hasn’t seen you for the past week, and after how disastrous her interview was, she’s pretty sure she knows why.

“Where’s Y/N?” she finally asks her makeup artist, giving in to her own curiosity.

Felix shrugs, reaching to mess with the blood on her hairline. “I have no idea, honestly, I haven’t seen her yet. She’s never late, though, you don’t have to worry. You’ll get your scene done.”

“That’s…” Chaeyoung sighs. That’s why she should be worried. “Right.”

“Okay, can we start?” Seulgi shouts. It’s started to rain, but with the excited look on the director’s face, Chaeyoung figures that it suits the scene even better than the gray clouds that had been planned. “Great. Chaeyoung, Y/N!”

Your hair is plastered to your forehead with the rain, and water makes your blouse cling to your curves; with the grim expression on your face, Chaeyoung could easily just mistake you for your character. “Hi,” you mutter, taking a seat on the grass right next to your costar. You say nothing else.

When cued, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath before her line. “Luna. I love you.”

For a second, Chaeyoung thinks you won’t respond, but the rasp to your voice proves her wrong. “No. No, you don’t.”

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that, don’t you?” The blonde raises her eyebrows, reaching forward hesitantly for your shoulder.

Of course, you dodge it. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you’re resigned when you ask, “You have your birthday gala tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes, but--” Chaeyoung swallows, lets her hand make contact, then continues, “I’m spending as much time as I can with you, aren’t I with you right now?”

“But you’re going.” It feels like you’re staring right into Chaeyoung’s soul when you speak, as despondent as your voice is. She nods, and you stand, her hand slipping off of your shoulder and into her lap. “Then go. You’re still a princess at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“At the end of the day, yes…”

“You can’t do that. You sneak out onto my ships, get my people to love you and protect you, and then turn right back to your family to stay safe while we die for you. You can’t say you support our cause and then go back on it when it’s inconvenient for you, it doesn’t work like that!” Chaeyoung flinches at how intense you sound; at this point, she barely knows if it’s still acting. She can only hear her own heart in her ears, can only see your chest heaving from how quickly you spoke, and it all feels too real.

“What, do you want me to get found out?” Chaeyoung demands, getting to her feet as well. The rain becomes harsher, angled so that it perfectly blurs her vision of you. “I’ve saved your ass just as many times too, don’t pretend like I’m not a valuable part of your ship!”

“You’re still pretending.” Realizing that it’s not the right line, Chaeyoung opens her mouth to stop you, but your voice chills her into silence when you speak again. “You’ll always pretend, as long as it benefits you, won’t you? You can’t do that, Helen, not if you ‘love me’. Putting a crown on your head doesn’t mean that you’re a princess. Until you realize that, and until you’re willing to embrace it, you don’t love me. and I don’t love you.”

None of it is the script. None of it is the scene that you rehearsed a thousand times together in your trailer, but somehow, it makes Chaeyoung’s heart quaver in her throat so much more than the original lines ever did.

And when you drop your gaze to the ground, turning to walk off into the rain alone, she knows that to you, your entire relationship is already done.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #rosé x reader #rosé imagines #rosé scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink rosé #blackpink chaeyoung #park chaeyoung #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung imagines #blackpink is the revolution #blackpink in your area #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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hiii, this might seem weird but do u have any head cannons for when the reader is pregnant and how the Darkling would react?

a/n love this concept,, it's not weird at all!! i feel like there's so much here!! also i leave for college this month and im lowkey starting to freak out so ive been watching star wars movies for comfort 😭and now i have half a mind to write for them, especially the prequels (cough, cough,, anakin) 😭 😭 that should tell you where i am mentally

anyways lets get into the headcanons:))

- okay so like most of my headcanons, this is probably going to be all over the place bc i feel like so many different things could change how he would react. Like if the darkling x reader have been trying to get pregnant, or an unplanned pregnancy with someone he really likes, i also think whether or not the reader is a grisha affects his reaction too

- in general though, i think he'd lowkey have a breeding kink he'd def find something about the thought of you having his child really attractive bc for one thing, he wouldn't have to worry about being left alone and now he has an excuse to be a real 'protector'.

- also if youve read my other headcanons i am 100000% convinced that he has this thing where if he really likes someone he needs them to need him (let's all remember the whole 'i will strip you of everything you know and love speech until I'm your only shelter' speech he gave to Alina)

- also i kinda want to write a fic or blurb series or something that's just the darkling being super toxic in super thoughtful ways LMAO if that makes sense, like he's being super sweet but it's to make sure the reader is dependent on him

- and he def wants to be the protector to give himself some sense of assurance bc he's so desperate to not be alone anymore and bc the reader is the only person he has/loves, he wants to feel in control and like he's the less attached one

- okay,, let's get back to the pregnancy thing, anyways, your pregnancy is most definitely activating all of those senses and this was meant to be a sub plot but it kind of became it's own thing lol

- so lets get to the actual pregnancy reaction

if you two have been trying to get pregnant:

- when you tell him, he kind of like, pauses bc it's not every day that he gets surprised so it takes him a moment to register that he's experiencing shock lol, so he tenses and goes islent

- and then after he realizes that he's surprised and that it's bc of a good thing, he manages to relax

- meanwhile you're kind of freaking out bc he got so quiet?? you start to wonder if he's regretting ever wanting a child with you? and you're like two seconds away from a downspiral and then he...

- he touches your cheek and looks at you in a way you've never seen him look at anyone,, not even you

- the look is so warm and strong and full of fierce admiration that you feel foolish for ever thinking he didn't want this. And then he says something about how you're carrying his child and how he didn't realize he could adore you more and then he kisses you and it's all :)) warm:)

- he doesn't want anyone to know that he's expecting a child as long as possible bc of how many enemies he has and how he has to worry about you enough when people just know that you're his 'lover' (a title you never really liked, but one he tells you is necessary to make sure no one realizes the extent of his attachment)

- if you really want to tell your mother or someone of that relation, he won't be mad about it, but he just needs to know

- Genya is the only exception bc the darkling basically instructs her to look out for you,, but when you tell her she's like oh?? you guys just found out?

- miss girl most definitely noticed like a day and a half ago after you cried bc she couldn't find you ice cream the other night 😭and she just assumed you knew but weren't ready to tell anyone

- okay so this what i think is his most problematic expecting father trait would be. So i just ranted about how important secrecy would be to him but he's also the most overprotective person in the entire world,, like he was bad before but once he knows your with child?? yeah, if a man asks you about the weather, he's done for

- he's next to you in a second, ordering either you or the man to do some asinine task

- if you get mad about this (rightfully so) or even just point out how nothing is wrong and you having a casual conversation with a man who isn't even looking at you sexually won't hurt you or the baby, he'll lose rationality

- it depends on how much you push, but it'd be super easy to make him super possessive bc like i said, being bonded by a child has made him so much more intense (and he was pretty intense before)

- and if you push too much he'll lowkey forget about how cautious he's trying to be with you and pin you against the nearest wall and say something along the lines of 'are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it.' (AH--i want to write a whole fic based on this line)

- also if the reader is grisha, especially if she's a sun summoner/special grisha like him, he def talks about the power that they've created and how proud he already is and how he can't wait to train together and be the most powerful family in the world

- not everything is perfectly happy though, bc now he feels more pressure to complete his plan and establish the world he wants his child to be born into

- so sometimes when he's working extra hard or is extra aggressive for no reason, you have to work at calming him down and reminding him that the best thing he can do for his child is be there for them (and the child's mother,, lol)

- sometimes he'll respond by actually listening to you and trying to make up for his absence or his aggression by being extra soft until you finally forgive him

- you never last that long, it's hard to be mad at him when he's coddling you and whispering such sweet things about he's so happy to have you and your future child

- overall, his first reaction is to swell with emotion, which he isn't used to, and so he becomes super protective but also extra lovey and you know that his overreactions are just him trying to show that he cares about you and your future child more than anything

If the pregnancy was unplanned:

- the initial reaction is pretty similar, only his state of shock lasts longer

- like i said at the beginning, he's not used to being surprised and an accidental pregnancy is so much more surprising than a planned pregnancy

- this really sucks for you bc he's not exactly known for his patience so you just kinda sit there and genuinely wonder if you're going to be a single mom or if you're going to want to deletus the fetus or something

- but then he takes a step towards you and you see how he's looking at you and you just know that that fierceness has to mean something good

- and at this point you're scared and nervous and feel so alone so tears are pricking at your eyes,, so he wipes his thumb across your cheek to wipe away tears you won't let spill

- he then whispers something really sweet about how you two are now together forever, as you should be

- it's really relieving bc you felt so alone and uncertain and he's such a smooth speaker that by the end of the night, you feel like this is a good thing

- if youre still hesitant/weighing your options, he's not above trying to (gently) manipulate you into thinking that what he wants may be the only way

- by that,, i don't mean outright tricking you bc he means everything he says, but he def is pushing the keeping the baby agenda,, especially if you're a grisha,, and even more so if you're a grisha with similar power levels to him

- he won't get angry at first bc he's not so out of touch that he's unaware of how shocking a pregnancy is to a woman who wasn't planning one,, but his patience is limited and if you fight it too much he will get mad and yell

- but unless you really don't want to have a child, it won't get to that bc he makes the idea of having a baby with him sound so perfect?? like you genuinely don't understand how he did that

- he chases away all of your worries and assures you that youre not alone and that even though it isn't planned he wouldn't rather anyone else carry his child

- the initial conversation would probably end in you two sleeping together again bc he finds the fact that you're carrying his child so attractive and bc being aware of the pregnancy makes him more possessive

- it's also a good way to fight any of your doubts

- speaking of being possessive though,, i feel like he could be a little more possessive/protective of a reader who didn't plan on getting pregnant bc your relationship has been less established

- no one sees you as anything to him and he doesn't want to start rumors now bc it's important to him that his enemies don't find out about you or his future child so he doesn't want that to change

- but he almost forgets about all of those reasons each time he sees a man get a little too close,, especially if that guy is flirty

- it takes all of his will power to not just go 'she's mine and if i wasn't worried about the stress that witnessing something violent would cause our unborn child, you'd be dead already, but if you're not gone by the time i turn around, i'll forget about caution'

- lots of close calls ngl!! at one point youre like 'if it bothers you so much, maybe you should tell someone??' and he's like 'no,, maybe,, shut up' and then you raise one eyebrow and he just closes his mouth and is like 'i mean,, i'll kiss you to shut you up, haha--dont be mad'

- youre the one that's pregnant but sometimes you think he might be the one experiencing the mood swings i swear 😭

- so your little theory gets tested,, he's not the type to gossip with his besties and be like 'guess who's officially my girlfriend, i knocked her up but it's not like it sounds--'

- so he's like ig you can tell genya

- once again genya is like ?? yall thought you were keeping that secret? couldn't be me

- but having it a little out in the open helps ease him just enough that youre actually capable of consoling him when he becomes jealous

- still though,, he's quick to go into possessive/pregnancy kink sex

- youre most def not mad about it,, unless pregnancy has you particularly sore

- he's normally pretty understanding about that and def doesn't mind pulling his weight in the bedroom when he needs

- honestly he'd be really good at being a source of calmness at the beginning, but as time goes on he becomes more and more worried about finishing his plans bc he didn't expect to have a child right now

- so he'd be more adamant about working/becoming more tense and would be more difficult to console if it was an accidental pregnancy

- when you call him out on it--or on anything while your pregnant--it's frustrating for you both bc the number one thing everyone knows is stress is bad for baby, so he's trying to keep you calm without backing down

- these argument always end with one of you clinging to the other,, and then the more angrier of the two just like shuts up, rolls their eyes, and lets go of the argument...at least for now

- the main difference between an accidental and intentional pregnancy would probably be how you perceive him,, bc an intentional pregnancy means youve talked about things but since you havent talked about anything your shocked about how soft he becomes ??

#headcanons #headcanon #darkling x reader #the darkling x reader #the darking x you #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x you #general kirigan imagine #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #aleksander morovoza x reader #aleksander morozova imagine

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kittenkuroo · 3 years

Text

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐜𝐰: 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

It was always an itching urge within Rintarou’s heart. He wanted to find the perfect girl, so kind and innocent, and ruin everything she thought she knew about herself. He wanted to see her shaking and crying because of his fingers, his dick. Rintarou wanted to break down a girl until she was completely pliable and at his mercy.

It was fucked up, he could even admit it. He knew that it was a twisted thought inside his pretty head. But the thought of corrupting someone so perfect made his whole body go tingly.

Rintarou had no luck for the first couple of years he was in college. All of the girls he had the displeasure of meeting were whores and sluts in his mind, all-knowing how to suck dick and roll their bodies on top of his. He was starting to get tired of all of their experience.

Rintarou began to give up on his twisted perversion.

Then he laid his eyes on you.

So cute, huddled in the corner of the frat party, hands gripping at the bottom of your tiny skirt. Your pretty eyes were darting back and forth as people walked by you. Suna gave a small chuckle, hands gripping his red cup in excitement. He could see it in your eyes.

You were finally something he could corrupt.

“You new to these things? I live in this frat house so this is an everyday thing for me,” You jump when you feel the hot breath of a stranger tickle your neck. He had snuck up on you, “What’s your name?”

You nod your head as you stutter out a response, “Y-yeah... I’ve never been to a party before and my friend ditched me,” You lick your lips as you finally lay your eyes on the guy beside you. He was pretty with black hair framing his face, smoky eyeliner lining his lids, and rings adorning his long fingers, “My name is Y/N. You?”

He chuckles, “Suna Rintarou. You can call me Rin,” He leans down closer to your ear, “What a crappy friend you have, leaving a little lamb like you all alone. Wanna hang out together?”

“Yeah,” You feel a smile creeping up on your face, happy someone was at least talking to you, “We can hang out.”

Your newfound friend offers a hand to you and you look at him inquisitively, “Let’s go up to my room so we can get to know each other... Y/N.”

You weren’t sure if this was the best of ideas but it was better than waiting around for your friend to stop making out with random guys. At least with this, you wouldn’t look like a loser, out of place. So, naturally, you took Rintarou’s slender hand and let him lead you up to his room.

His room was standard, with dark red walls with random piles of clothes scattered on the floor and a couple of movie posters lining his walls. His bed was neatly made while his desk was scattered with textbooks and pens. It was just a normal room, for some reason that consoled your worrying heart a bit.

“What do you major in?” You find yourself asking the most common question in college. Rintarou grabs a textbook and hands it to you.

“Psychology.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, “I wouldn’t take you for a psychology major,” It immediately sounded bad as soon as you heard it. Your head shoots up to look at the amused man as panic sets in, “I-I didn’t mean it like that! I’m so sorry-”

His hands land on your angular shoulders, instantly shutting you up, “It’s okay, baby girl,” The nickname makes you shudder in his hands while a sadistic smile creeps on his face, “But, how will you make it up to me? You kinda offended me when you said that...” His voice was slow and low making a small blush appear on your face.

You swallow, “I’ll do a-anything,” Rintarou bites his lip, “I’m sorry, Rin.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” You respond.

It wasn’t a surprise that you found yourself laying down on his bed with his fingers buried deep inside your cunt, pressing new spots and making you feel like you never have before. Your shirt was lifted up just above your breasts with your bra pushed up as well. The sight was making Rintarou’s mouth water. Your face was so adorable, flushed, and starting to break out a sweat.

“Stop tensing,” His hands slap at your thigh, causing your hips to jump, “And stop this stupid jumping shit. Stay fucking still.” He grabs your hips roughly, pinning them to the bed, much to your demise. You couldn't meet the thrust of his fingers like that.

You let out a harsh groan when his fingers prod at that certain spot that makes you see stars, “C-can’t, hng, help it... feel so good.” Rintarou had you right where he wanted you. You were starting to pant like a bitch in heat and the words you were mumbling made no sense to his sane ears.

He was starting to get you fucked out and you hadn't even cummed yet. Rintarou continued pushing his long fingers in your gummy walls. The way you were writhing around just because of his fingers almost made him want to laugh.

This was perfect.

“Rin,” You let out a particularly hard moan while your hand slaps down on his shoulder, grip making him wince, “Gonna... gonna cum. Please, please, let me cum.” Your hips were shuddering as he continued his assault on your walls. Eyes rolled up in your skull, hair plastered to your forehead, and your whole body shaking with pleasure. Rintarou had never seen such a pretty sight.

“Cum for me, baby girl.”

Those simple words had you allowing yourself to fully let go of the pent-up feeling in your stomach. All of your hearing went as white-hot pleasure spread through your body. Your muscles hurt from tensing up so much but you couldn’t help but to tense more, milking as much pleasure from this experience as you possibly could.

You look down to see Rin with a satisfied smile gracing his lips. You can’t help but smile at the sight, chest filling with warmth.

The bed sinks down when he crawls on top of you, kissing your forehead and brushing your hair off your face, “Think you can handle the real thing now?”

A panic replaces all of the warm feelings you had before. You were scared. Scared it was going to hurt, that he would be too fast or rough with you. He begins to take off his boxers, stroking his length a couple of times with a lazy grin on his face.

When the tip prods at your sopping hole, your hand shoots down to grab at his wrist, "Rin," He looks at you with an eyebrow quirked, "I've n-never done this before-"

He leans down and kisses your cheek sweetly, "Don't worry, that's perfect," His eyes narrow like you're some kind of prey, "I'll go nice and slow." His strong arms cradle your head, pushing it into his chest so you couldn't see what he was doing.

What you couldn't see, wouldn't hurt you, right?

The painful stretch as his cock slowly gliding in had your legs kicking out, a shriek leaving your lips. The burning feeling was too much. He was ripping you apart, about to pierce your stomach if he didn't stop. Rintarou shushes you, stroking your hair as if he was consoling you. His hips settle against yours and you can let out a sigh of relief now that he doesn't have to slide in anymore.

"Hurts..." You mutter against his chest. Rintarou continues to stroke your hair before looking at you.

"It will feel good soon, baby," He lets go of your head, letting you lay down and face him again, "Let me take the lead."

His pace at first was so agonizingly slow, your head spinning with the pain that you were feeling. You didn't even know your lower half could feel this much burning and stretching. After the seventh or eighth stroke, it was like a veil was lifted up. You began to see stars, body relaxing and tensing all at the same time at the wonderful feeling of him filling you full of his cock.

Rintarou took your blissed face as a sign to finally go faster.

Rintarou began to slam his hips into you causing you to stutter out a couple of dumb-sounding moans. The feeling of him was too much. It was causing your legs to seize up and your body began to ache.

"Too fast!" Your legs try to close but he pries them open and slams them against the bed.

He glares down at you, "Take it," The sounds of his hips slamming against yours made your brain go hazy, "Fucking take it. Shit, so fucking good."

When your eyes go bleary and begin to cross, that's when he chuckles. You looked like the perfect little fuck doll.

"Feels so good, Rin! So, so good," Your breasts jiggle with the movements of his hips, "God, I'm gon' cum again."

You have never felt such bliss before. It opened so many doors you didn't even know were possible. A couple of slams of his hips against yours had you finally releasing once again. It was better than the last, maybe because of how full you were. Your body was tensing and clenching around Rintarou. A warm feeling began to coat your walls. You pry your eyes open to see Rintarou hunched over with a face full of pleasure.

He collapses on top of you after a couple of minutes inside of you.

Your brain felt foggy but your body felt so good. It was the perfect combination in your head. Your eyelids begin to droop with the exhaustion of it all and you let yourself take a short nap.

You were awoken with a harsh shake to your shoulder. You blink a couple of times, trying to adjust to the light.

"Y-yeah," You sit up, pain jolting through your body. Rintarou was standing in front of you with a lit cigarette hanging halfway out of his mouth.

He sighed, looking annoyed at your cluelessness, "I usually never let girls sleep after I fuck them, consider yourself lucky. But," He hands you your shirt and skirt, "I'm gonna need you to leave. Class in the morning, you know."

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his tone, "But, I thought-"

He cuts you off with a sinister laugh, "Thought you were special because I called you loving names and went slow?"

You felt your chest begin to cave in on itself. This wasn't happening, was it? He was just playing some sort of cruel joke on you.

"Rin-"

"Fuck," He rolls his eyes, "Don't call me fucking Rin, okay? Call me Rintarou. I just wanted you to feel like you could trust me."

Tears prickle at your eyes as his words begin to register to you, "So this was all... a joke? A prank on me or something?"

He clicks his tongue, taking a puff out of his cigarette and flicking ash in his tray, "Don't take it so personally, sweetheart," He sits on his bed, hand going to caress your knee in mock comfort, "I have this kink. I wanted to corrupt someone."

You shake your head, "I don't understand."

"How could I pass someone like you up? You looked so innocent when I first laid my eyes on you," He smiles at the memory, "You were the perfect person to corrupt. So I did it, and now I need you to leave my house."

It was like your whole world had crumbled in front of you. It was a stupid thought in your head, but you thought maybe he just wanted to take care of you, make you feel better after slipping up and offending him.

You felt so stupid.

Leaving his room was as humiliating as finding out he didn't really care for you. You felt his slimy eyes on you as you redressed, all the way up until you shut the door to his room.

Standing out in the hallway of his frat house you didn't know what to do with yourself. You felt nothing short of crushed and heartbroken.

Rintarou laid against his bedframe, basking in the silence. His cigarette was filling his chest with warmth. He couldn't help but begin to laugh like a crazy man at what he just pulled off.

Corrupting was more thrilling than he thought. He wanted more.

The look on your face had a sinister emotion creeping into his brain. He wanted to do this more.

But for now, he will continue to think back on this night with a victorious outlook.

Rintarou had successfully corrupted someone and crushed their heart.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #suna rintarō #suna smut #suna rintarou smut

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

do you write AUs?

because i wish you'd write a fic with magic 👀 either with both or only one of them having magic ❤️

Oh, dear sweet anon. You'd never guess it from what I've been posting, but AUs are my bread and butter, and fantasy my genre of choice. I just don't do as much of it because I care more about getting it right, and it's so much harder to convey in short glimpses.

So thank you for this, and here goes nothing! Might not be the type of magic you were thinking, but it’s where my brain ended up.

Milkovich Magic

When he's just a little boy, Mickey Milkovich is the chattiest kid on the street. He stands out front of their rundown house and waves at people passing by, tells them stories, wishes for them good things. His father hates it, but his mother thinks it's lovely. She sits next to Mickey in a broken lawn chair, taking turns smiling at her son and at the strangers and neighbors passing by, waving Terry away when he comes too close to interfering.

But she never says a word herself, unless it's to Mickey.

Until one day, when Mickey sees a family walking down the street, and waves frantically at two boys around his age, one with fuzzy brown curls, one with bright red locks. The bright boy turns toward him and smiles, and Mickey feels something shift inside himself.

"Momma," he calls back toward the house. "Did you see?"

"See what, Mikhailo?" she responds, voice oddly cautious in a way that Mickey has long since become accustomed to.

"That boy," he tells her, feeling light and happy. "He's going to be my friend."

The air shifts as the words leave his mouth, seeming to swirl around him. He shivers as it strokes against his skin, leaving a line of goosebumps in its wake, and takes a shaky breath, thinking of the boy's shy smile.

"Mikhailo, no!" his mother cries, stumbling from her seat to fall on her knees at his feet, clutching his arms with claw-like fingers. He snaps out of his thoughts and stares down at her, terrified, as the feeling leaves him.

His terror grows when his father slams open the front door and yells, "What did the boy do now?"

His mother's eyes are wide and scared on his face, but her voice is calm and firm when she answers.

"Mikhailo has done nothing," she states simply, and his skin begins to tingle again. "You noticed nothing," she adds, and Mickey watches as his father shakes his head and wanders back inside without so much as a backwards glance. Then the air is still again.

"Come, Mikhailo," his mother says next, "that's enough for today." And he follows her up the broken steps and into their home, mind whirring, trying to make sense of what happened.

“Words have power, little one,” his mother whispers to him later that night, as they sip hot chocolate in the kitchen after Terry goes to bed. The air smells of milk and burned sugar and his mother’s perfume, and her voice wraps around him like a hug, pressing her words into his skin.

“We have to be careful,” she speaks quietly. Her hand is still warm with the heat from her mug when she brushes his hair from his face, lets her palm rest on his cheek. “When the things you say become the truth, you have to choose your words wisely.”

“Like when I say you’re pretty?” Mickey asks with childish innocence, and his mother laughs, a soft tinkling sound like windchimes in the rain.

“Not quite,” she tells him with a gentle smile. “It takes intent, too.”

“Intent,” he repeats dutifully, then asks, “what’s that?”

His mother’s voice drops even further, serious and firm. “It’s the desire to make change, Mikhailo,” she says, “and it’s dangerous. You never know what path that change might take.” She sounds sad, like she does whenever his father comes home, loud and stumbling when he shoves through the door in the middle of the night. Mickey doesn’t like it.

And he doesn’t understand, either. He’s too young. Too new to the world to see how change could be a bad thing. So he agrees, like a good son does, and doesn’t argue when his mother presses a kiss to his head and sends him off to sleep in a haze of lavender and chocolate.

A few months later, when he hears his father yelling from the next room, hears the crash as his mother hits the floor for the third time that week, he dares to speak aloud the words struggling to escape his heart, despite her warnings.

“Mama is safe,” he whispers to himself in the darkness of the room he shares with his baby sister, who’s curled up against his side, face still wet with the tears that sent her into sleep. “No one can hurt her anymore.”

He knows he got it right when he can feel the wish leave him, a heavy weight lifting from his chest as his desires take form. He can feel the air, heavy with intent, as it brushes over his skin, as it moves like a summer breeze through the open window above his head, bypassing the locked bedroom door. He’s suddenly more tired than he thinks he’s ever been when it’s gone, and he falls into the most peaceful sleep he’s had in years, comforted by the knowledge that he had put change into the world.

The next morning, he wakes to his sister sobbing and pushing loose fists into his chest as she tells him that their mother is dead.

After that, he stops talking so much.

---

When Mickey is eight years old, he's the quietest boy in class. He gets a reputation as a troublemaker, refusing to answer questions or make friends, no matter the effort that others put in.

Eventually, they stop trying, and he's glad.

Until a new boy shows up, and almost ruins everything.

His name is Ian Gallagher, and the first thing Mickey notices as he walks into the room for the very first time, a worn backpack hanging from his skinny shoulder, is his hair.

It's bright red.

And Mickey remembers the day he learned what he was, the day he started down the path that killed his mother, the day that he declared to the world that the redheaded boy would be his and the world started to listen.

He wanted nothing to do with him.

So of course, Gallagher sat right behind him, and tapped on his shoulder, and asked him for a pencil. And try as he might, Mickey could not muster the intent to make him leave.

It probably wouldn't have mattered if he did, he thought. The damage had been done years ago.

But he does manage to speak. And he hears his own voice for the first time in ages outside the confines of the bedroom he still shares with Mandy. It's rough with disuse, lending an edge to his words that never used to be there.

"Ask me again, I'll stab you with it," he threatens, then stops, eyes blown wide and fearful by his own statement. But the rush of air never comes, nor that strange tingle, and all he can feel is the tickle of sweat sliding down the back of his neck.

He's so relieved he could cry.

"Are you ok?" the Gallagher boy asks, and Mickey tries to snarl, to make him back away.

"Shut up," he orders. And then he spins back around in his seat to hide his grin.

Because he can talk, after all, without causing terrible things. The trick, he knows now, is just not to mean it.

---

When Mickey is fifteen, he's loud and brash. He throws words around like they're meaningless, because to him, they are.

They have to be.

And it's working out fine, really. As long as he swallows down his feelings, keeps them locked up tight in his chest, it doesn't matter what words leave his lips.

Until, one day after school, he finally loses control.

And of course, it's because of Ian fucking Gallagher.

Because Ian keeps trying to be Mickey's friend, and Mickey knows it isn't real. He knows what he did. So when Ian joins his little league team in 4th grade, Mickey gets himself thrown out. And when Ian tries to partner with him for the 6th grade science fair, Mickey gets himself suspended instead. Every year is a new attempt, and every year, Mickey manages to shut it down.

He's ready to do it again on the first day of their sophomore year, when Ian calls his name outside the old brick school building.

"Hey, Mickey!" he tries, waving gangly arms to catch his attention. "Mickey, over here!"

Mickey studiously ignores him, like always, until he hears the smack of books hitting the ground.

"Whatcha callin' him for, eh?" comes a voice Mickey recognizes as one of his cousins. There's another rough sound, and a curse as Ian himself is pushed to the ground. Mickey's cousin laughs.

"What a pussy," he snickers. When Mickey turns around, his cousin waves him over with a wicked grin. "Ey, Mick, you know this guy?" he asks, not waiting for an answer before he nudges Ian in the side with a dirty boot. "He keeps callin' for ya, think he's got a crush or somethin'."

Ian's face is red, and his jaw is clenched, but he looks away when Mickey catches his eyes. He looks embarrassed, and maybe sad, and before Mickey knows what he's doing, he speaks from the place he always keeps under lock and key.

"You're gonna leave him alone," he rumbles, a breeze picking up behind him. "You're never gonna touch him again." A few leaves flutter at his feet as his intention builds. His cousin doesn't notice, but Ian does, and Mickey finds himself staring into emerald green eyes as he says, "You noticed nothing," just like his mother did all those years ago, and lets the words go.

His cousin blinks at him, suddenly lost, then down at Ian. "The fuck are you doing down there man?" he asks, and almost offers a hand before awkwardly pulling it back. "Eh, whatever," he mutters, and stumbles off to join the line for the bus.

"What was that?" Ian asks breathlessly, and Mickey shrugs, thumbing his nose. Inside, he's horrified by his slip, but all he says is, "nothing."

And scared or not of how it felt, that rush of cool air tingling against his skin as he spoke, he can't deny it felt good.

It feels even better when Ian smiles.

---

When Mickey is seventeen, he has a friend, and he thinks he might have to stop talking again.

Ian is around all the time, now. They sit together at school, and hang out at the Gallagher house on weekends. They go to movies, and baseball games, and tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

And deep down, Mickey knows what this is. He told the world that Ian would be his friend, and so he is. It's nothing more than that.

But when Ian starts talking about the guy he's seeing, starts blowing Mickey off to spend time with him instead, it still makes Mickey's heart hurt.

Somewhere along the line, between avoiding Ian and letting his life revolve around him, Mickey had started wanting more.

It's in those moments, sitting on the sofa with their thighs pressed together, the strawberry scent of Ian's shampoo lingering in the air around them as he waxes poetic about the restaurant his boyfriend took him to, when Mickey fights himself the most.

It would be so easy, he knows. So easy to open his mouth and let the words out. Ian, he could say, you love me. You want me. Leave him, Ian. Be with me instead.

He doesn't. He wouldn't. But he could, and knowing that kills him.

Instead, he starts pulling back. Cancels plans before Ian can. It hurts, but he does it, because Ian deserves to be free from the wish Mickey made when he was a child.

Ian notices, of course he does. He ignores it, mostly, until the night Mickey opens the door to find him standing there, sweaty and scowling.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks Mickey immediately. "Why are you shutting me out?"

Mickey swallows. "Don't know what you're talkin about," he lies, wishing desperately that it were true. He feels a zing of power go through him, but there's no escape for it; his words don't work on himself.

"Bullshit," Ian accuses, stepping over the threshold to bring them chest to chest. "Just tell me, Mick," he urges. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I can't," Mickey offers breathlessly. "I really can't, Ian."

It doesn't deter him; if anything, it makes him angrier. "What's gonna happen if you do, huh?" he challenges, shoving Mickey back until he hits the wall.

And Mickey can't take it anymore.

"I don't know!" he shouts, tearing at his hair. "I don't fucking know, Ian, ok? I've been trying not to say it for so long, I don't know what will happen if I do!"

It takes the wind out of Ian's sails; he visibly deflates. His eyes turn soft, instead of angry, and there's a quiver in his voice when he asks again. "Tell me what, Mickey?" he whispers.

Mickey won't say the words. Instead, he surges toward Ian and presses their mouths together in a rough, clumsy kiss.

It lasts only a moment before Ian pulls away, and Mickey tries not to die inside. Forces himself not to fix it. But a second later, there's a beaming grin on Ian's bruised lips, and he's saying, "is that all it was?" and leaning in again.

---

When Mickey is nineteen, he has a boyfriend, and he says what's in his heart.

They’re alone in the Gallagher house, a rare enough occurrence already, and they’re tangled together in Ian’s tiny single bed. “Ian,” he whispers when they part for breath. “Ian,” he moans as that mouth trails down his neck and behind his ear, pressing kisses in its wake. “Ian,” he cries out as he clenches fingers in bright red hair, holding on for dear life as they rock together.

“Fuck, I love you Mick,” Ian murmurs against his heated skin, and Mickey stops still.

It takes a minute for Ian to catch on, another for him to pull back, eyes questioning and nervous. “Is that okay?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Mickey licks his lips, and tries the words out himself, like a dare. “You love me,” he whispers, eyes locked on Ian’s own.

Nothing happens.

There’s no shift in the air around them, no new goosebumps beyond the ones Ian caused himself. There’s no weight in Mickey’s chest trying to get out.

There’s just Ian.

Ian, with his copper hair shining in the light from the window. Ian, surrounding him in the scent of strawberrie shampoo and sweat and cheap cologne from the corner store that he only wore when they were together. Ian, who was watching hi, waiting, biting his red bottom lip and trying not to move.

Mickey laughs, and pulls him closer, kissing him again, feeling Ian smile with relief against his lips. “You fucking love me,” he repeats, just because he can. The words can’t change something that’s already true. “I fucking love you too,” Mickey says.

And he does.

#daily speedwrite #<-still calling it tgat even though it took forever #because if it wasn't I'd completely redo it before sharing #gallavich #fanfic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fantasy au #fic request #i just got home I'm so tired😭#I hope it's vaguely coherent #tw:domestic abuse

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hotchscvm · 3 years

Text

i do

Warning: language, major character death, violence, angst

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Soulmate AU where the last words you will ever hear from your soulmate is written on your wrist so you won't know it's them until you've lost them.

Staring at the words on your wrist, you held back another sigh, tracing the black ink with your finger, dread and sadness washing over you. You shuddered at the words, unable to rid of the lump in your throat.

I do.

Born with the words on your wrist, no one knew when they would meet their soulmates, unknown to who your other half was until they died. It was cruel, knowing the last thing they'll say to you would cause you immense pain. Horror stories stemmed from the agonies of other's pain, movies made out of the tales that would become famous.

Some, those who were protective of their hearts, buried themselves away from others, but fate always led them to their soulmate. No matter how short the time would be stretching from the duration of your life to a single second before you'd lose them. The best outcome to happen was when two lovers let go, and spend their lives together, to die at when they were to, finding out they had spent their lives with their one and only. That possibility was becoming more and more realistic with modern technology and wishful thinking.

Yet, there was some tragedies. The unfortunate ones would have their sentences written on their wrist, knowing they'd only know their soulmate for a short time, or not at all. “It's nice to meet you.” "What's your name?" "Can I get your number?" "Sounds like a date." Not knowing them at all was, to most, was worse than to know them at all.

A few rare situations when your soulmate would die young. Parents told horror stories, reading the words off their kid's wrist. "We're playing dodgeball in gym!" "I didn't do my math homework." "You can come to my birthday party. I'm turning seven next week!"

Then there were the most terrifying stories. They were the ones turned into thrillers, a real life story turned into a disrespectful horror movie. They'd lose each other, aware there was nothing they could do. "I thought you locked the door." "I don't think we're alone." "Behind you!" "Someone's in the house."

Thankful none of the situations applied to you, you still couldn't get the words branded in your wrist out of your head. It lingered, whispering the last words before your heart would be torn, only healed when death came for you. Some looked on the positive side, knowing meeting their soulmate was inevitable.

Natasha broke you out of your reverie as she tackled you down on the mat, leaving you breathless at the sudden attack, confused to how you've become acquaintances with the ground. You spit your hair out, grimacing in disgust as a few strays stuck to your lips. With your hands tied behind your back, and crushed against the former assassin's body, you turned your attention on her smug smile, glaring daggers.

"Okay, get off before Tony pictures us scissoring again." you grunted, too tired to push her off of you. Natasha laughed, letting your wrists go as she shifted her weight off of you, sitting next to you on the thick mat. You rolled onto your back, closing your eyes in exhaustion. "That was unnecessary, Nat."

Spending the day at the gym with Natasha seemed like a good idea after being beaten by Clint the day before. You knew you were getting rusty, without all the life threatening missions and people to save, your skills wasn't needed. Besides, you loved yourself too much for Steve to convince you to join him on his suicide runs. He woke up before the sun rose, and it only took a few runs to realize that even you couldn't keep up with his fast pace. ("Although, I would love to see his fast pace in the bedroom. Ow, Sam!")

After tying the score—despite the lack of training, you and Natasha still tied when it came to hand to hand combat—you had sat down on the bench, which was now sweaty, and sulked, sighing over the words written on your wrist.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbows as she eyed your expression, eyes narrowing when you didn't return her smile. "What's with the sad face? Are you thinking about your soulmate mark again?"

"You know I only allow myself to think about it once every other month." you replied. Natasha made a noise in respond but you ignored it. "Shut up, I know I'm pathetic. No need to voice your opinions."

"You're not pathetic, just compassionate." she whispered, her eyes sparkling with remembrance. Natasha had lost her soulmate on a mission a few years before the Avengers were formed, but it didn't stop her from living her life. You hoped you could follow her path when the horrid time came. "Out of curiosity, if you had to guess, do you think you've met your soulmate by now?"

You've given it much thought, coming up with a good theory that even Tony Stark would be impressed by. Of course, you didn't share it with anyone, giving Nat the simplified version of it. "With the amount of people I've met, I like to think so."

The playful smirk returned to her lips, a wiggle of her eyebrows as she digested your words. "And do you think a certain blond, big-hearted, super soldier might be it?"

You reached for the nearest water bottle, throwing it at her only to have it hit the wall behind her as she dodged it. Natasha laughed, putting distance between you, sensing an attack. You scowled at her but it lacked real annoyance. "Oh my, God. I have, like, the smallest crush on him and you're already planning our children's proms."

"I'm thinking: under the sea." Natasha joked, grinning when the corner of your lips curled up. The both of you burst out laughing, thinking about Natasha in a ridiculous kid-friendly dress as she chaperoned yours and Steve's future offsprings.

As if summoned, Steve chose that moment to enter the training room, freezing in his tracks when he saw you and Natasha cackling. His expression made Natasha double back into another round of laughter while yours subsided in giggles. Steve cleared his throat, looking down as a slight blush decorated his face.

He murmured your name, walking up towards you, his blue eyes eyeing the ground with too much interest. "Did you hear about the party Tony is making all of us go to?"

Natasha stopped laughing immediately, jaw clenching at Tony's betrayal. They had a truce where Natasha would stop hacking into his system to play Spice Girls—with the help of Bruce, of course—and Tony was to stop throwing parties every month. It's been three months since the last party, the one where Natasha has almost killed the billionaire. Tony couldn't hold off any longer. She stood. "I'm going to kill him."

Before either of you could get a word in, Natasha was already out the door, her stance deadly as Tony Stark awaited his death. The door slammed close behind her as Steve sat down beside you on the mat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

You admired his ruffled hair, blond strands hanging down on his forehead. You had mentioned to him that he looked sexier with his long hair, and it seemed like he was following your advice. Dressed in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Steve Rogers was every girl's waking fantasy. It truly was unfair how good he could look in sweats.

"Hey." you greeted, smiling sweetly at him. Being happy around Steve was as easy as giving Pepper Potts presents. He returned the smile, grinning from ear to ear as he looked away, his cheeks reddening even more. "What can I do for you, Stevie?"

"Thor wanted to have some kind of Asgardian contest that may or may not level the top floor. I thought you might want to do something else, have a peaceful night instead of risking our lives to one of Thor's games?" he asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not letting excitement cloud your senses, you grew cautious, eyes narrowing as you looked around the room, trying to search for a hidden camera that would allow Tony to get you back from ruining his thousand-dollar crocs. Steve Rogers was not asking you out in no way.

Steve saw your expression, quickly backing off. "Only if you want to. I'm sure you missed Thor and all. It's okay, I can suffer a few third degree burns—"

"No!" you shouted, making Steve flinch at the suddenness. You cleared your throat, cheeks heating up. "Uh, I mean, yeah. I wouldn't mind missing the party. Where did you plan on going?"

Slightly surprised, a smile crept on his lips. He ran a hand across his face to hide the cheeky grin. "Wherever you want to go."

You threw him a smile, unhealthily giddy. If Clint were here to comment, he'd compare you to a happy school girl with a massive crush. "Oh. Okay."

A voice interrupted the short silence, scaring both you and Steve. You suspected the AI, Friday, had been invested in your conversation. "If I may make a suggestion, I advise you both to leave sometime in the next hour before Mr. Stark ropes you in. I'm inclined to think Mr. Stark won't be above blackmail."

"Thank you, Friday." you murmured. The AI said it's goodbye, far too amused for your liking.

Steve got up, offering his hand for you. Both of you were smiling like idiots, cheeks hurting from the too-big smiles that adorned your faces. You had a suspicion you somewhat embodied a clown. The super-solider kept his hand wrapped around yours. "Would you like to leave at this moment, or get changed?"

You shook your head, liking the warmth of his touch. "I'm good. Let's leave."

Steve Rogers was a gentleman, that was confirmed by his acts and the influence of being raised right. Despite that fact, he was a savage in the bedroom. Or half the time, out of the bedroom. You had been surprised, yet pleased, when you fell into his bed halfway through the second unofficial date. After that night, Steve finally built the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend—a term he found silly but otherwise a happy milestone.

After years of being friends, Steve was ready to begin the rest of your lives together. No one was surprised, besides you, that he had proposed three months after the first official date. Being head over heels, you excitedly agreed, only to blanch when Tony started a petition to let him plan the wedding with you. Pepper had stopped him.

No one knew what happened the night of Thor's and Tony's party. Though, Steve made a smart choice to ditch it when you both found a floor of the tower littered with blackened metals and slightly burnt walls. The team wouldn't speak of the incident, not that neither you or Steve cared. You had both been too jubilant to interrogate them.

The wedding day came. Steve had been stopped by Thor, failing to sneak into the room you were in. No matter how strong he was, Thor wouldn't allow any bad luck to happen especially after you had lied to him about naming your firstborn after him. Steve tried, and failed, to tell him you weren't going to name his son after the God of Thunder. Bucky was too busy arguing with Sam about the flower decoration to help out Thor.

Dressed in the lavender bridesmaid dress, Natasha burst into the room, a smile adorning her face. She had thanked you multiple times for not dressing her in those ugly dresses she had seen on Pinterest. "You getting cold feet yet?"

"Mine are toasty warm." you mumbled, hands trembling at the thought of declaring your love in front of a crowd. You wondered if it was too late to get ear plugs so no one would hear all the gooey, cheesy vows you would utter to Steve.

"Very convincing." Natasha teased, taking a shot of the wine laid out on the table. Placing the flute down, she eyed the door, prepared to attack Steve if he managed to get away from Thor. "Alright, what're you worried about?"

You bit your lip, messing up the fresh layer of lip gloss Pepper had put on. Glancing out the window, you saw the crowd settling down in there chairs. The anxiety built up inside you. "Um, falling down the aisle. Accidentally saying the wrong name. Messing up in my vows. Dying of embarrassment."

"You'll be great, I promise. No one's going to die. You won't trip because Tony wouldn't let you. You won't say the wrong name because Steve's is practically implanted in your brain and you'll be too busy staring into his ocean blue eyes that you won't mess up. Now, are you still worried?" she asked, laughing when you managed to trip over your wedding dress.

"If anything, Tony's going to purposely trip me." you muttered, tempted to take a swig of some liquid courage, but the fetus in you held you back. The ceremony would start soon, and being too nervous, you hadn't eaten any breakfast. It was probably a good thing considering the nausea you were feeling. Why call it morning sickness when it didn't happen in the morning?

"You're being paranoid, everything will be great." she sighed, turning to the window, staring directly at the green hybrid. The Bruce and Natasha thing was unsurprising but kind of weird, especially with the whole sex thing. You had gagged at the thought of Bruce trying to fit inside of Natasha, and stopped altogether. "I'll be right back, I gotta do something."

She left the room before you could address her, groaning when she left a tiny crack in the door. Natasha knew how much it annoyed you when people left the door open when you originally had it closed. Heaving a sigh, you went to close the door, only to be met by a small force. Steve stuck his head through opening, his worried frown turning into a dazzling grin as he spotted you.

Without a word, he took you in his arms, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a quick kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, closing the door behind him as your arms wrapped around his neck.

You pulled away, wiping the lip gloss smeared across his lips. Steve did the same, smirking at his handy work. "Hello, Mrs. Rogers. How do you feel?"

"Like I want to tangle myself around you in every way possible." you whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. Steve chuckled, his thumb drawing small circles on your back. "How about you, Husband?"

"I've been waiting for this day for a very long time. You can't imagine how jovial I am." said Steve. He gave your nose a quick peck, and you giggled. "I know it's suppose to be bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony but I couldn't bear it."

Giggling, you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his neck as you sucked softly at the sensitive skin. "Hmm, I can't wait until I'm officially yours. Do you think we have time for a quickie? It'd really help with my wedding nerves."

Steve laughed, but the sound came out a little breathless. Even with the thickness of the wedding gown, you could feel him on your hip, smirking when he shifted. "While that's a very tempting offer, both Natasha and Pepper would kill me for ripping apart this beautiful dress."

"But Steve—" your whine was cut off by Natasha pulling Steve out of your arms.

The redhead glared at him, pushing him towards the opened door. "You, out, now."

"I'll see you—" Steve began to say, only to be cut off when the door slammed in his face. Natasha turned to turn her death stare on you.

"Look at your makeup. I can't believe he snuck in here with Thor on his ass." Natasha complained, pushing you towards the vanity, quickly applying the tube of lip gloss on your lips. You blinked back the tears as she practically poke your eye with the mascara wand, trying to fix Steve's touch on your slightly smeared mascara. "You look like you're going to puke."

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. "I'm good. Where's Tony?"

"Right here." he answered, entering with a velvet box in his hand. The billionaire set it down on the vanity before eyeing your stance. "Wow, you look ..."

"Like I'm gonna throw up all over Steve's suit?" you finished, panic rising.

"I was going to say gorgeous but now that you mention it, you do look a little green." he teased, earning himself a nudge from Natasha. Tony rubbed his ribs. "If you want to ditch, I have the car running in case you want to make a quick getaway."

You rolled your eyes, wishing you hadn't let him talk you into such a big wedding. All you wished at the moment was to take Steve with you and elope. "Thanks for the offer but I'm good. Let's get this over with."

"And here I thought you weren't romantic." Tony joked, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

Natasha checked her watch, the music audible. Morgan, the flower girl was already walking down the aisle along with Pepper's nephew on her heels. The former assassin opened the door, grinning. "Wait a few seconds before you follow me."

And with that, she walked down the short hall before stepping outside, the aisle was cleared by flowers adorning the sides. Weeping willow branches hung down from the huge tree, creating an illusion of fantasy, the little arch at the end of the aisle was created of leaves and even more colorful flowers. You were surprised no one was sneezing with the amount of pollen.

You took Tony's arm, taking another deep breath. Looking at him, you swore he was a bit proud. He smiled at you. "I hope you know I take full credit for the union of your two souls."

Ignoring his mini jab, you raised an eyebrow. "And how so?"

"There was never a party." he informed, grinning cheekily. He pulled you towards the opened door, walking down the hall. "I made it all up so Rogers would get the balls to finally ask you out."

"Then what the hell happened to the tower?" you asked, confused. People were beginning to stand but your curiosity became more important than your nerves.

Tony winked. "That's for me to know, and for you to dot dot dot."

"God, you're such a nerd." you mumbled, turning your attention ahead as your feet hit the white carpet that moonlighted as the aisle. The nerves began to bubble, and you gripped his arm tighter in fear of falling face first.

The ceremony was a blur, Steve just as nervous as you had been, becoming more and more braver as he spoke his vows. By the end of it, you could barely see him through the tears brimming your eyes. If it wasn't for the waterproof makeup, you were sure you would've cried your face off.

You had just finished your vows when the priest had asked if you would gladly wed the man in front of you for the rest of forever. You whispered a soft "I do."

The priest turned to Steve, the super-soldier happy beyond belief. He asked him the previous question he had asked you. Yet, Steve, being eager, had almost cut him off near the end.

His eyes bored into yours, filled with love and warmth. "I do."

Then everything turned black.

You awoke in the Medbay, needles puncturing your arm, a tube tied to your nose. Every single inch of your skin hurt, your eyelids heavy as you opened your eyes, only to close them once again when the bright fluorescents shone. You felt someone squeeze your hand, a finger brushing along your wrist.

Turning your head, you glance at the person, finding out it was Tony. While he was relieved you were awake, something in his eyes made you believe he wished he had more time to prepare you for the worst. At the moment he uttered those words, you wished your ears had been damaged in whatever hell Hydra had dropped on your wedding.

"Steve's dead."

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes #marvel #captain america #chris evans x reader #chris evans #tony stark #natasha romanov #chris evans imagine #soulmate #soulmate au #ansgt #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #thor #steve rogers fanfiction

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redspiderling · 3 years

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MCU Breakdown: Black Widow, Part 1

I can’t believe this is happening 😭

First of all, congratulations to all of you who’ve been here all these years. We got it. We begged for years, and it’s finally here.

For once I wasn't dreading revisiting this film to write down what I got from it. I felt more like I might not do it justice. This film is so special to me, but here it is, the MCU Breakdown of Black Widow, part 1 (of who knows how many).

I remember back when I started running this blog and talking about a hypothetical Black Widow movie that had never been announced, always "yeah, we would be happy to do it, maybe, someday in the future", and arguing that it would be important for women and girls, no matter its content. I'm so glad we got it like this. So, so glad.

The rest under the cut.

Let's start with some technical details. The film has a lot of setups and callbacks, nothing is done in chance. For example, I love how the light, and the sounds we hear when we first, and last, see Natasha in the film, are the same. We greet her in bright -birds cheeping- morning light, while she's riding her bike home, to her family

and we leave her in bright -birds cheeping- morning light, while she's riding her bike home, to her family (I'm using the term family very liberally here in reference to the Avengers for the sake of the movie, bear with me, you know how I feel about those dudes).

It's signifying new beginnings, each time, not endings. Notice how, what we see is natural light, which makes this scene pop out, and look more real because the light is coming from the sun, and isn’t artificially made on VFX software. You will notice the stark differences in colours and lighting when the emotions and the atmosphere change in this film, because there is a visual language being employed here, the director has a story to say, and she uses all the tools she has to tell it. The light is exactly the same in those 2 scenes, because Cate wants us to make that connection, even if we make it unconsciously.

Natasha is placed in such a positive way, both at the start and the end of the film. There's this discussion about how "real" their little family was, but it was the characters that muddled up that image. The reality of their lives in Ohio is presented in a happy way, that had deep rivers under the surface, for sure. This wasn't accidental, for a lot of reasons.

First of all, if you take it the literal way, they were spies, and had to present themselves as normal. If you take it the allegorical way, any girl could fall victim to trafficking, and if you take it the character way, both Scarlett and Cate wanted to showcase that Natasha is human. They also wanted to give her something that wasn't always dripping with pain and sadness. They were both parts of her life, yes, but there was also joy, and light, and once upon a time she had been a kid, playing with her sister.

Also, and this has been mentioned before but it bears repeating: I love the actress they chose for young Natasha, and I love how they presented her character. She's allowed to be a young teenage girl. She's not sexualised. She's at that gangly stage between childhood and adulthood, and there's nothing sexual about it, no provocative clothing, no excessive makeup. She's a kid.

Plus, I know Cate said the actress already had her hair dyed blue and they just decided to let her have it, but I think it works well for Natasha's character. That small act of defiance, even that early on, against the system that wanted to break her. Also, the film gives us such great character moments, because they let the camera roll and don't rush through scenes, look at Natasha looking at Melina comforting Yelena. We can see the pain, the fear, where she knows that this isn't going to last, and wonders about what will become of them once their lives begin to unravel.

We also get to see the joy on her face, the wonder of discovering the world, how often do you get to see Marvel characters do this, just live in the moment?

Bioluminescence: the production and emission of light by a living organism. Or how Natasha is a bright light, that shines from within. Not my words, Cate Shortland's words. I felt it when I was watching this scene, but it was lovely to have it verified in one of her interviews. I wish I could meet her, and tell her that everything she wanted to put on screen came through, incandescent and crystal clear. Fireflies are a symbol for Natasha, as a bright light that shines from within, and never dies.

Small details that I love, the magnet on the fridge: Don't forget, above a picture of Natasha. LIKE WE EVER COULD, CATE.

We have another setup here, where the family gathers up to have dinner together. Even the sitting arrangement is the same as later on in the film.

Notice also how both young, and adult version of Natasha, communicate so well with Melina, just with their eyes. It doesn't necessary show a deep history between them, but it does show a bone deep level of understanding. Not just of their current circumstance, but of their future, and of what it will do to them. Melina knows what's coming and she's says it "I'm sorry", but they're both resigned to their fate, Melina because she doesn't see a way out, and Natasha because, well, here she's a kid, and therefore is powerless.

The dynamics between Yelena and Alexei is so different. Yelena is young and doesn't understand, so they're speaking about completely different things. "I don't have my shoes" is what she says, and it's heartbreaking in its innocence, as Alexei is loading his gun and reading himself for battle. We can still see that he's not indifferent to her, telling her she can have "fruit loops in the car". He's not a monster, he just doesn't have a choice (or at least, he thinks he doesn't).

Also, notice how the camera angles are employed here: Natasha and Melina look each other eye to eye, Yelena looks up to Alexei, Alexei looks down on her, there is an imbalance of power and understanding in the second set of images, and the camera tells us that.

Melina doesn't let Natasha take the photo album. For one thing, it's certain that Natasha wouldn't be able to keep it. For another, Melina wanted the memories, and probably didn't want anyone else to realise/think that they cared about their little family unit.

There's just a lot of thought that's been put in the details of the script, to show us their bond, their attempts to hide it, to show the characters' personality in everything around them (notice the plants that are ever present in Melina's home, in Ohio and later in Saint Petersburg). She might seem cold, she has been through a lot, but she cares. And that care has brought her pain. And we have to see that pain, because we get the quiet moments like this one, where she stands alone in an empty home knowing that part of her life is over, never to return.

The mission, is the last thing Melina asks about. The last thing Alexei mentions, the last thing either of them cares about. First, she refused to accept that they had completed the mission and were now hunted, then she accepted it and they loaded their family in the car, and then she asked about the leaked files.

Also, notice how that shot is framed. Both images silhouetted by the light because it’s the moment and the prop smack down in the middle of the frame that’s important, now what they’re going through, emotionally, they’re not themselves in that moment, they’re nameless, tools of the trade, expendable in front of that tiny floppy disk.

Yelena is singing while the rest are plunging in despair, but still humour her and play her song.

I found this shot a bit... Jarring. I get it that for American audiences this would show that they're actually leaving "home" behind, but for the rest of us... Eeeh, I'll give it a pass because it is an American production and this is just something to be expected. I mean, Yelena's song was American Pie. We get it, you still love America, just because you're making a film about Russian spies doesn't mean you're a commie Marvel, it's ok.

But in any case, the setup for the action scene here was excellent. Happy, familiar music playing, car is on the main road, car goes off the main road familiar music gets toned down and eventually completely lost in the darkness.

Yelena knows what to do, we see it, so that we know that this 6 year old girl who holds her stuffed animal and walks barefoot has practiced for this moment.

By the way, Natasha did take another item with her along with the photobooth pictures (it also looks like a photo album with Disney princesses on it), it didn't survive the trip. We are informed of this for a very specific reason: Melina didn’t ask Natasha not to take the photo album out of malice, or just because she wanted to keep it for herself. She knew it wouldn’t survive the trip in Natasha’s hands. We also get a close shot of the image strip (and we get it again, during the credits), because it will be important, later on.

Bet y'all also forgot you were watching a superhero movie until this happened? That wasn't accidental, they wanted us to see them as normal people, this is the moment when that ends.

Natasha saved her family, even though she was a terrified kid.

I know that they did the huge titles thing to connect this film to Civil War but... Listen, Civil War needed the huge titles because that script and the way that movie was directed was a complete disaster. We needed to know where the characters were each time with huge ass title because there was NO OTHER WAY TO TELL. Between complete lack of a timeline, and the fact that you couldn't even tell what time of the day it was due to the horrible lighting, you definitely couldn't tell what the location was because it was irrelevant to the plot like, 90% of the time. Not to mention the title cards in Civil War were usually followed by dimly lit grey corridors so, yeah, give us a title so we know at least where they are, generally.

This film. Didn't Need That. For the most part anyway, there are 2 locations where the titles worked. First one was Ohio, the other I'll reveal later.

But here. Guys, they're Russian spies escaping from the US on a small plane... Where else would they go if not to Cuba?!?! This is the Black Widow movie paying for the sins of Civil War, in a small way in this instance.

Yelena tells Melina that pain only makes you stronger, Natasha cries, and they setup my heartbreak for later.

Natasha protecting Yelena, terrified, and staring men down the barrel of her gun anyway. Such a badass and heartbreaking callback.

Notice how this scene makes us look at how men view this. There's an allegory here as well, but I'll address what's actually happening in the film:

Dreykov notices Natasha's natural instinct to protect herself and her sister, and all he sees is something he can use. A tool for violence, instead of sex, in this case. But the implication is there. Not a person, or a terrified girl, just an object to be used by men.

So glad that piece of shit got blown up and never mentioned again. Any man looking for exposition on Dreykov to feel the "loss" when the villain is gone: Fuck you. Go get some therapy.

Moving on from that piece of shit, difference between Melina and Alexei: Melina apologised. Alexei lied, but he also tried to give them hope. We can see the devastation, because the soldiers never thought of them as girls like he did, and didn't blink before drugging them and taking them away.

Yet another setup, of Natasha and Yelena, drugged and powerless as they are taken away. Because it wasn't enough that they were kids, they took away all their choices, and rendered them unconscious.

What can I possibly say about this credits scene.

It's very real, probably the realest minutes in the entire MCU, and it's merciless. They don't try to sugar-coat what's happening, and there are no jokes to diffuse the drama. These are girls being trafficked from all over the world. I don't know about you but I felt the switch from true parallel to real life traffic victims like this shot that looks like footage from Interpol

to Red Room victims as being a clear shift, and I was actually grateful for it. Because here I could put my back against the fact that the red room wasn't real, otherwise I would have broken down before the credit sequence even ended.

It was a stroke of genius to create an introduction to this entire world like that. We rarely see credit sequences anymore and it's a shame, because when they're well done they tell stories in and of themselves, and this is one of the best I've seen.

Even the villain is set up here. He's pointing at girls and saying "that one, and her", like he's picking pigs for slaughter. How much more setup than that do you need, to want to murder that man dead? Not any more, that was enough.

Nobody speak to me I’m crying.

Subtle, but there. Trafficking (and traffickers) exists because it IS being tolerated by governments around the world.

Unnecessary title aside, who else says Natasha looks at herself in the mirror hear and repeats "pain only makes you stronger", as she's being hunted away from yet another family.

Then she's saying it again because it bears repeating and Natasha has been through A Lot these past few years. I love how unfiltered our first image of her is. After all she's been through, we basically see her stripped of all her tricks in a moment where she’s alone with herself and her thoughts(something we later learn she tries not to do much), and she's just a woman having a tiny breakdown in a semi-public bathroom. Again, human.

This is where I will leave you for this first part. Hey, I got through the intro, I count that as a win given just how long this breakdown has already been. If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for reading, come yell at me in my inbox whenever, see you for the next one xo

#MCU Breakdown #Black Widow #Black Widow Spoilers #Natasha Romanoff #I'd like to think that all my followers have already seen it but just in case

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frostedfaves · 3 years

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Repercussions (15 - Alt Ending)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda refuse to leave without you.

Warnings: dark themes, gun mentions, threatened suicide, manipulation

A/N: never expected to write this despite it being highly requested, but with me being stuck with Particular Taste and in the mood to write some angst, I ended up doing it. I’m still down to write angst, so I may do another Sad Song Sunday, but I’ll let you know.

Original part 15

“You worried us, printsessa, disappearing like that,” Natasha addresses you in a chilling tone as the two of them stop a few feet away from you. “And we’ll deal with that later, after you tell Wesley to come out so we can punish him first.”

“He’s not here,” you tell her calmly. “His only job was to bring me here--”

“And take the tracker out of your leg, which we will be putting back,” Wanda interjects with a stern expression. “Now you can either come with us to the car willingly or we’ll drag you.”

“I won’t be doing either of those things.” You stand slowly, lifting the gun to your temple as you go. “Your only choices are to leave me here and go back to the way your lives were before I came in, or you can let me die. If you take me again, I’ll just fight you every day until you wish you’d killed me yourself. No matter how you manipulate my mind, my true self will never love someone who wants to control me. I’ll tell you how much I hate you for ruining my life every second I’m able, and I’ll kill myself the moment I get the chance to do so.”

You notice the glassy look in their eyes as they face each other, and you knew they were having a silent conversation in their minds. Seconds feel like minutes as they seem to discuss their options, eventually turning back to face you. Wanda is fully crying now, and Natasha seems to be physically holding back her own emotional break.

“Please don’t do this, printsessa,” Wanda chokes out with a cautious step forward. “We just want you to come home.”

“What’s home to you is a prison to me.”

“But it didn’t always feel like prison, right? Remember those days we’d bake together, and watch your favorite movies all day?”

“Or that time we took you to Coney Island for a week straight because you couldn’t get enough of it?” Natasha added and you sighed.

“You don’t get it, do you? I was obsessed with those Coney Island trips because it was the only time you didn’t make me feel like a kid that would get lost if I wandered too far! The only time I felt like an actual human instead of a fucking meat puppet!”

“The moment we decided to trust you a little, you abandoned us!” Natasha yells so loudly that Wanda even flinches. “We’re in Nebraska right now because you couldn’t stand being a good girl and waiting for us to get home!”

“You left me with a fucking babysitter, Natasha! It doesn’t matter that it was someone I actually wanted around. You installed cameras and tried to bug Wesley and me. You put a tracker in my leg! If you trusted me, why did you go through so much to make sure I couldn’t leave? You can’t say that you love me and treat me like you don’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” Wanda’s voice comes out in a whisper as she steps forward again, and you watch her eyes for any hints of red. “I never meant to make you feel so cornered, but you have to understand that I’m an Avenger. I’ve seen what enemies are out there and at one point I was one, so I just wanted to do what I could to make sure you never ended up in the wrong hands.”

“She’s right,” Natasha chimes in, clearing her throat as a single tear slips down her cheek. “I know what lengths some people will go to hurt the loved ones of the other side because I used to do that exact thing. I’d let the world end before I let any harm come to either of you, and I guess I went a little overboard with protecting you because Wanda has a bit of an advantage.”

“I know I’ll never understand what it’s like to do what you do, and to live with your pasts…” You take a deep breath as you feel a lump forming in your throat, and the hand holding the gun to your head begins to shake. “But I do know what love is supposed to feel like, and it’s not this. I shouldn’t have to worry about setting you off because I didn’t agree with something, or waking up from a week-long mind trance because you didn’t want me to fight back.”

“How about we start over?” Natasha offers, glancing at Wanda and turning back to you once she nods. “No trackers, restraints, babysitters or manipulation. Just us getting to know you and vice versa, and hopefully rebuilding the love you once felt for us.”

“Please.” Wanda gives a pointed look toward the gun still pressed against your temple. “I know how upsetting this already must be for you, so please. Let us help you make it better. Let us fix this and hopefully have an even better relationship in the future.”

“We love you, and we agree that we should’ve gone about this in a healthier way. Please give us the chance to make this right.”

“And you promise there will be no more tricks?” you ask, and Wanda nods as two more tears make an appearance.

“Cross my heart--”

“--and hope to die.”

You stand there for what feels like minutes, your gaze bouncing between the two women in front of you, hoping to gauge their level of sincerity on expressions alone. As much as you didn’t trust them because of everything they’d done before, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that missed those happier moments, and wouldn’t mind starting over to create more. Perhaps it was worth a shot, if they were truly serious about not messing with your mind anymore.

“Okay,” you finally answer, and you notice the relief appear on their faces. “If you’re serious about starting over and doing this the right way, I’ll give this a chance. But you’re going to have to wait a long time before I start to trust you.”

Wanda grins at the two of you as Natasha approaches you cautiously, and you place the gun on the chair behind you before allowing her to pull you into a hug that you melt into surprisingly fast. Your other girlfriend joins the embrace, and her ecstatic giggle is the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.

“Y/N/N...hey wake up!”

You jump up suddenly, nearly bumping into the person standing above you. After a few moments of blinking to adjust to the bright sunlight, you turn your head to see your cousin sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Wesley?!” you gasp as he grins in acknowledgement. “What are you doing here and why do you look like shit?”

“You know, I’m gonna let that go because it’s your wedding day, but I’ll get you back later.”

“Wait, my what?”

“Jesus, did you hit your head or something?”

“Feels like it,” you grumble as your eyes close for a moment.

“Bachelorette party must’ve been crazy.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You sigh and face him again as your eyes open. “Did you have a crazy night too or did you come here all bruised up?”

“I got into a pretty bad accident a little while ago,” he answers after a few moments of silence. “I guess I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you to worry, but I probably should’ve said something when I got the invitation in the mail. Which reminds me, it’s time for you to get ready.”

He stands up slowly with the help of a cane beside him and limps out of the room, and a chill washes over you as the door closes behind him. You move to run your hands over your face and pause as you feel a cool metal bump against your nose, and you lower your hands to see a ring on the appropriate finger.

Of course it made sense considering--according to Wesley--you were getting married today, and the ring is exactly what you would want, but it just doesn’t make sense how you got here. As you move onto the bathroom and begin showering, you get hit with flashes of moments with Natasha and Wanda that include the moment they proposed, but it feels a bit more like watching a movie than a memory should. Still, there’s a warm feeling in your chest as you come to terms with the fact that you’re marrying two people that have been so good to you since your relationship was formed.

“Come in!” you respond to a knock on your door as you slip on a robe, smiling as Pepper enters the room holding what seemed to be a dry cleaner’s bag and a small jewelry box.

“Hey there, just bringing your dress.” She drapes it carefully over the end of the bed and faces you while holding the box out to you. “And your almost wives wanted you to wear this.”

You take the object from her and lift the top off, gasping as a necklace is revealed. It consists of a simple silver chain, but the pendant has a spider with a prominent red gem that almost seems to glow as the sunlight makes contact with it.

“Need some help?”

You nod with an appreciative smile as you hand her the necklace and turn around, feeling your smile widen as the cool pendant touches your warm skin. Your fingers run over the spider while you wait for Pepper to secure the chain around your neck, and you face her when she pulls away.

“Thank you. Wait!” you call out as she turns to leave. “I just have to ask...Do you think going through with this wedding is a smart idea?”

“Well, I haven’t been around the three of you much, but I’ve seen the way Natasha and Wanda react whenever you’re mentioned. It’s equivalent to someone finding out they won the lottery, honestly. I also know how much time and effort they put into making this house as safe as possible to put their minds at ease about you while they’re away on missions. In my opinion, I think you’re in good hands here, but I’m also not there for the little things. I’d recommend just listening to what your heart tells you.”

You thank her before she leaves the room, letting her words echo in your mind for a bit before moving to get ready for the ceremony. The dress, you quickly discover, is an exact replica of one you’d seen in a magazine that you loved so much you saved it in a scrapbook for years. How you’d managed to track it down, you had no idea, but the questioning thoughts seemed to fade away a bit once you realized how amazing it felt to be finally wearing it.

“How do you feel?” Wesley asks once you reach the bottom of the stairs, and you loop your arm through his free one as he leads you to the back yard.

“If I’m being honest, I’m super nervous about all this. Everything’s felt like a weird coma dream since the moment I opened my eyes.”

“Hey, you’re about to spend the rest of your life with Natasha and Wanda,” he reminds you quietly, and your gaze shifts away from his joyous expression to the small crowd that begins to stand upon your arrival and Natasha and Wanda smiling at you from the end of the flowery path.

“It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

**for future dark!fics you must be 18+ and have your age in your bio in order to be tagged**

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chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

56 and 100 with andy or steve plss

Hellooo lovely. First of all thank you for the request and i’m sorry for the long wait. I was taking a break from requests to work on the multiple series that i’ve got going on but i’m back now and i hope this is worth the wait. Secondly, i chose Andy for this and i really hope you love it.

Prompt #100: “Call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you”

Prompt #56: “Come sit on my face, let me show you how much i missed you”

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, smut, oral sex ( f receiving), language and ass grabbing. 18+ guys

Word Count: 2,861

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @lovingpostit go check them out💜

I’ll Show You

It’s been one hell of a day at work today and all you want now is just to cuddle up on the couch next to Andy, a glass of wine in hand and some random movie that he’s been dying to watch all week on the TV. To tell the truth you don’t even care what movie it is, all that matters is that he’s next to you, holding your body close to his with his cologne filling up your senses and intoxicating you. Oh and lots of kisses are also a must.

You could honestly spend forever in his company and it’s been that way since you first met, you’ve always been drawn to each other like magnets, to put it in the most cliche way possible. But it suits the two of you because you’re both introverted and home bodies. So any time you get where you can just sit together and enjoy each others company, you take it no questions asked.

This week has surprisingly dragged, probably due to all of the clients you’ve had. Your calendar has quite literally been chock a block full not to mention the severity of the things your clients unload onto you. It’s been tough. But you got into this business because you can’t help but help people and you knew the second you started on your journey to becoming a therapist that it was never going to be easy. Nothing good ever comes easy. But you don’t mind that, you’ve never shied away from a challenge before and your brains are just another thing added onto a long list that Andy keeps of why he fell in love with you.

That along with your heart of gold.

On the drive home you decide to turn the radio volume up a little more than usual, you need something to keep you going until you can run into the arms of your love and as Led Zeppelin comes onto the radio, you know you picked the right day to crank the volume up. What a band.

----------------------

Andy is just making his way out of his own office and down to the parking lot to drive home himself. He’s usually home before you but tonight he had to clear up a couple things before he got to leave and much like your career, his is also never stress free, but he loves it too much to give it up.

As you park your car you notice Andy’s isn’t here yet which isn’t unusual, you know he’s most likely had to stay behind a little later so you decide that you’ll be the one to start cooking dinner ready for when he arrives. You step out of your car and head to the back seat to retrieve your bag along with your jacket from this morning before strutting up to your front door. But before you can even put the key in the lock, your neighbour Ian jogs over, calling your name to catch your attention.

“Ian, hi” you beam, greeting him with a friendly smile, one which he returns gladly.

“Y/N, me and Julie were just talking and since i’m taking the boys out golfing tomorrow, she’ll have a spare coupon for the spa, if you’re interested in joining her”

You have been rather tense lately and since it’s Saturday tomorrow, you’re not gonna pass up such a wonderful opportunity to relieve the tension building and the knots forming all over your back.

“Sure, that would be great. What time?”

“11” he responds simply and you nod your head rather enthusiastically.

He places his hand on yours as he smiles from ear to ear “brilliant, she’ll be over at half ten then just to be safe. Have a nice evening” and with that he walks away just as Andy is walking towards you with a not so cheery look on his face. Must have been a tough day at work for him too.

“Hi handsome, what’s with the pouty face?” you tease as you let the two of you into your shared house but he doesn’t seem to be laughing at your not so funny joke.

“Andy?” you press him for some kind of response even if it’s a nod or mumbling, you’d rather something than to be blanked by him but to no avail.

He just shrugs his coat off, hooking it onto the coat rack before slipping his shoes off and placing them in the shoe holder. And since he doesn’t seem to be responding any time soon, you do the same before padding into the kitchen to have a look at what you have in the refrigerator and the cupboards to cook for dinner. You eventually settle on a simple dish, mac n cheese. It doesn’t take too long to cook and that’s exactly what you need seeing as you’re starving.

You take one of the many pots and pour some water in it before setting it on the stove on a medium heat to boil whilst you change into something a little comfier.

As soon as you enter your shared bedroom you see Andy making his way into the closet too and when you walk in he turns his head to see you staring right back at him, confusion all over your face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hoping that this time he might actually tell you rather than acting like you didn’t open your mouth “what did Ian want?” is all he says and it’s all he needs to say for you to know just why he’s acting off with you.

Ian and Julie have lived opposite you ever since you moved in and you automatically got along, all four of you. They’d get a babysitter for their children and you’d double date every now and then but those fun times were interrupted when Andy insisted that Ian had a thing for you. Although you tried to convince him that it wasn’t true and he was just paranoid, you couldn’t help but notice the evidence too. The way Ian would look at you and hold his stare a little too long, the way he’d flirt without you realising it at the time and obviously today, the way he had his hand on yours. Andy must have taken one look at that and assumed the worst.

“He asked if i’d go to the spa tomorrow with Julie, i said yes, why?” you have to be sure though, although you’re assuming now, you want him to be able to tell you what’s got him so bitter.

“I don’t trust him” he mutters as he finishes changing into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

“He’s harmless Andy”

“I saw the way he was with you just now, touching you and giving you that shit eating grin, he knew what he was doing”

“Andy, whatever he thinks of me, i don’t care. I’m with you for a reason, can you just trust me”

“It’s not that i don’t trust you” he snaps

“Except it seems that way”

You hold off on changing for now, deciding that storming off childishly is the better option. Once you’re back downstairs you then place the pasta into the now boiling water, making sure to turn the heat up one more too.

“Why can’t you just see things from my perspective here?” he wonders out loud as he leans on the kitchen counter, catching your attention. The way his hands are in his pockets and his shoulders are hunched over, it makes you feel bad for even getting mad at him. Sure jealousy isn’t great but when he gets so worried about other men stealing you away you can’t help but realise just how much he loves you. He loves you so much that the thought of you leaving breaks him let alone if you were to actually go.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that and you’ve told him plenty of times.

“It’s not that i don’t see things from your perspective, it’s the fact that there’s no telling you. I would rather be alone for the rest of my life than be without you yet you’re too caught up with Ian having a little crush to notice that”

“Yeah well call me selfish Y/N, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you let alone flirt”

Instead of fighting back against him you step closer and wrap your arms around him as you stand on your tip toes and just as your lips touch his, his hands grip your face gently.

His grip tightens the more you kiss him and when you slip your tongue in, he loses all control. His hands dance all over your body, leaving no spot untouched. Goosebumps form all over as the kiss heats up, the pasta long forgotten on the stove as you’re too busy being ravished by your man.

“Someone’s very possessive” you mock, smirking a little into the kiss before he kisses you so hard it knocks the air from your lungs and when you pull away you’re gasping.

Your breathing hitches as he rests his forehead to yours, his handsome face inches away from yours and all you want to do is just claim his lips, just like you did seconds before. You can’t get enough of him.

However, he beats you to it, gripping your chin aggressively as he bites down on your bottom lip with need. You pull him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck loosely to which he happily obliges.

“Is that a problem?” he asks, raising his brows at you as you struggle to regain control of your breathing, you simply shake your head no in response, half expecting it to end here. But he has other plans.

“Good” he starts, slowly walking into the lounge leaving you stood there confused. So you decide to follow, only to find him laying down on the couch with his eyes trained on you.

“Now, why don’t you come sit on my face, let me show you how much i missed you today”

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him smile afterwards, you can’t quite believe that he’s all yours.

Without another second left to pass, you head over to him and begin to straddle his waist. He quickly takes control, moving you further up until you’re hovering above his chest.

Large calloused hands grip the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it up to expose your laced black panties. Andy can’t help but choke on air as he sets his eyes on your panty clad mound. But rather than waste time, he starts to devour you over the lace before eventually slipping them to the side and feasting on you like a man starved.

The sensation causes you to throw your head back and practically scream due to how good it feels. His tongue on you like this will never get old, it’ll always be one of the best things in life, one that you’ll continue to enjoy for many years to come. The way his skilful tongue glides over your puffy folds with such precision before he eventually latches on to your bundle of nerves, it’s almost too much to bare and you can feel the coil tightening already with every suck and lick.

And when he slurps on you as he drinks the juices that pour from your fountain you’re unable to stop your hips from moving on their own accord and before you know it, you’re grinding yourself on him desperately as he lays there taking it like the greedy man he’s always going to be for you.

For him, you’re it. You’re the one and you always have been since he first met you.

After Laurie he didn’t expect to ever want another woman again until you came along. You rocked his world, turned it upside down and since then, he’s been hooked. He’s obsessed with the taste of you, the smell of you, the sight of you and the sound of you. You ignite a fire within him, alert all of his senses and turn his whole body into gooseflesh. Just the way he loves.

He flickers his eyelashes before looking up at you as his hands make their way to your perfectly shaped ass so that he can dig his claws into the soft skin of your round globes, causing you to keen for more.

The sounds your making should have alerted the neighbours by now but even if they do, Andy doesn’t care. He just loves the music you make as you arch your back, still riding his tongue as he pushes it further into your tight and wet hole.

“Please, Andy” you cry out, reaching down to run your fingers through his fluffy hair, you’re desperate now, even more so.

“Hm?” he mumbles, the noise vibrating onto your pussy “i’m gonna cum” you breathe out heavily, trying to gain control over the situation but failing miserably.

Andy rests his hands on your hips, stilling the movements before diving back in for more. He swirls his tongue around your folds once again before ultimately settling his plump lips around your pulsating clit and sucking like his life depends on it.

You can’t hold back anymore, the sinful moans are enough to make him cum too without you even so much as touching him.

And with one final suck and two of his fingers massaging your folds, you cum with a frantic sob. Your body launches forward and he pulls you down so that you’re laying on top of him.

He strokes your back delicately, soothing your shaking body. He can feel your legs jolting every couple of seconds.

Eventually you get off of him and attempt to stand up but of course, you fail miserably.

“So, how was that?” he rasps, chuckling simultaneously

“Perfect, oh and i missed you too today” you smile and he eventually stands up as you slouch down.

“Good, now just let me finish the job then we can order takeout” he says, causing you to furrow your brows but the unasked questions have their answer once he gets on his knees on the floor between your legs and dives right back in.

You shiver a little, your pussy is still trying to recover but he just can’t get enough. His tongue laps at the cum still spilling out of you, making sure that every last drop is inside of his mouth before swallowing it all.

“Now i’m done” he quips and you sit up a little, pulling him closer to you so you can get a taste of yourself on his tongue. Once he slips it into your mouth you can’t help but get carried away, until the door knocks, disturbing you from your peaceful and romantic moment.

You stand up to go and answer it, quickly sorting out your appearance in the hallway mirror before you open it. It’s Ian.

“Ian, hi... again” you giggle nervously as you turn to see Andy’s face change from content to angry in seconds. He practically jumps up off the couch to join you at the door, his beard still damp with your arousal.

You watch as Andy stares the poor man down before wiping at his face.

“I was just stopping by to let you know that Julie wants to leave at 10 instead, you know because of traffic and all” you can practically smell anxiety on him and Andy notices it too.

“Sure, that works for me” you say before the situation turns awkward.

You glance over at Andy who is just stood there watching him intently but he’s coming off rather intimidating.

“Anyway, we’re about to order takeout Ian so we have to go” Andy adds in before snaking his arm around you waist and pulling you closer to him, you follow Ians eyes as he looks down at your skirt and you can only hope Andy didn’t spot that but judging by the change in his breathing, he did.

Shortly after Andy bids Ian goodbye and as he’s walking off, you’re still in the doorway.

You turn to your jealous boyfriend and tut, resting your hands on your hips but he soon disbands your serious facial expression as he smacks your bum which causes you to squeal.

“Andy”

“Let’s get you to bed so i can really show you how much i missed you” he kicks the door shut as he picks you up to carry you to your shared bedroom and you just know you have a long night ahead of you.

-----------

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

Sonic Boom - S3E1

Episode title: Friendship 101

Word count: about 3000 words

Author’s Note: I’m trying a rather new format for this fic, since it’s based on a TV show with various songs and camera angles. If you have any comments about whether it works well or not, please let me know!

(Also, the theme song choice is all thanks to khinesthetic, who used it here and inspired me to put it in this fic.)

[cue Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (0:00-3:45)]

[The show opens on a zoomed-out view of Hedgehog Village from above. Stone walls separate the village from the wilderness outside. There are large spaces at several points throughout the structure for entry and exit. A large patch of grass with benches scattered about sits at one end of the village, and a marketplace made up of wood-and-cloth stalls runs along one of the walls. Houses are grouped in seemingly random clusters throughout the town, and the (in)famous Meh Burger stand sits all on its own, with picnic tables spread across its wooden flooring. As the music progresses, the camera begins to zoom in on the village- then on one of the streets in particular- and rotates down to eye level to face…]

Sonic the Hedgehog walked through the streets of Hedgehog Village with a bounce in his step, occasionally dancing to the music playing through his earbuds. As he wandered throughout the town, he passed the usual people running their stores, arguing over botched orders at Meh Burger, and, at one point, Aqua the Rabbit absolutely freaking out over the loss of a single follower on Angstagram (the latest social media network for moody teens).

He did a 360-degree spin before winking and pointing finger guns at Amy Rose when he spotted her haggling with the local grocery store owner. She paused briefly to wave at him with a smile. “Hi, Sonic!” she called, completely ignoring the irritated fennec in the process.

Then, the music froze and changed to something extremely ominous as she turned around to face the shopkeeper once more. A dangerous gleam appeared in her eyes as she pulled out her signature hammer. “Now then, about those prices you’ve been setting lately…”

The song cut back in as the view switched back to Sonic, who was now moving away from the scene at a slightly faster pace.

Really, though, he was more than happy to see his other friends not long after. Knuckles and Sticks were currently busy rummaging through the town’s garbage together, excitedly chatting about the latest piece of interesting junk they’d found, while Tails was fixing someone’s broken rain gutter (and attempting to ‘improve’ it in the process, which meant that it could now measure the amount and intensity of rainfall in a storm- a very useful, though unfortunately unwanted improvement).

Surprisingly enough, as he continued on his way through Hedgehog Village, he managed to get people from a few different places to wave back at him when he said hello. Although perhaps it wasn’t quite so surprising when one considered that this was one of the most cliched opening sequences that could possibly happen in any movie or TV show. Ever.

And of course, the only logical outcome of this scene led to everyone beginning to stop their usual activities and gather in one of the few open spaces in the town, clearly prepared to break into a fantastic musical dance number straight out of Broadway. Incredibly, this was one of the few moments in which everyone in the village seemed to be able to get along…

...until Eggman’s latest giant robot slammed feet-first into the ground, sending everyone off-kilter and scrambling for cover. Shrieks of panic rose in place of the music as the villagers fled the scene to hide in their houses. The dramatic entrance didn’t just ruin the mood, it absolutely crushed it with the sheer force of its impact.

And that was, obviously, when the show really began.

[cue In Your Face by Shockwave Sound (0:00-1:04)]

[Each of the five members of Team Sonic appears on a black screen with their name spelled out in their signature colors (blue, yellow, red, pink, and green) and does a couple of cool fighting moves, followed by snippets of scenes featuring them from previous episodes of the show for about eight seconds each. All five of them then appear together in their usual fighting stances, emphasizing their status as a team.

The Eggman logo then appears in an ominous, glowing red, backlighting the doctor himself and all his creations- before the lights flick on to reveal him alone in his evil lair with a green screen behind him, at which point he shrieks and covers the camera with a hand. Then, neon blue electronic lines begin to appear across the screen and the camera spirals to follow them, selecting one particular line to trace. Not long after, said line ends at a circle which, with a flash, turns into the words ‘Sonic Boom’. Beneath the title, it says ‘Ancient Secrets’ in neon blue.]

[Then the music ends, at which point the episode title- “Friendship 101”- appears for a few seconds in the same color before the show itself returns.]

Sonic scrambled to his feet and zipped over to Tails, pulling him up from where he’d fallen after the robot’s overdramatic arrival. Amy managed to do the same with both Knuckles and Sticks simultaneously, which let Sonic stare for a moment, startled, and then promptly resolve to remember not to get on her bad side anytime soon.

Soon enough, the team had scrambled into their usual positions, ready to fight. Amy and Sticks kicked the battle off by handling the various smaller robots that threatened to get too close to their team, never faltering (and in fact seeming a bit gleeful in the badger’s case) despite the sheer number of enemies. Knuckles, meanwhile, launched Sonic bodily into the air for Tails to catch, before picking up a boulder about the size of a house and lobbing it directly at the robot’s chest.

“Hey! Easy with the boulders- QuakeBot took a lot of effort to make, you know!” Eggman shrieked from above, hovering in the relative safety of his Eggmobile.

(Relative, in this case, was of course in comparison to mixing absurdly volatile chemicals in a lab, bothering Shadow at any and/or all hours of the day, or being on Tails’s bad side when the fox had a glue gun. The doctor still remembered that situation all too well, and currently ranked it as far more terrifying than merely being punted into the stratosphere by kids under half his height and about a third his age.)

Sonic paused to stare at Eggman from where he was currently dangling in the air. A smirk began to spread slowly across his face. “…what did you just call it?”

“You heard me the first time!” the doctor roared, now incredibly embarrassed. “I named it that since it makes the ground shake when it moves, like an earthquake??”

General laughter came from the heroes assembled on the ground and in the sky.

“Argh! Nobody appreciates my genius around here! Now, QuakeBot, stop standing around and start attacking!”

“I suggested TerraBot, since it still has to do with earth and is a play on the word ‘terror’, but nobody ever listens to my ideas, now do they?” Orbot muttered irritably to himself, tucked inside the Eggmobile.

“I listen to all your ideas!” Cubot offered encouragingly.

Orbot’s mouth shifted into a small smile. “Thanks, Cubot.”

Meanwhile, Sonic had been pulled into a spin by Tails, who whirled the hedgehog around before letting him shoot downwards toward the robot in a spin dash- only for him to get caught and sent flying into the nearest house.

He shook off the surprise quickly (and apparently sustained absolutely zero damage despite having literally crashed through a house, because superpowered teenagers), darting back over to the group. “Well, uh, guess it’s time for Plan B then!”

Crickets chirped in the ensuing silence. Even the robot had stopped moving to hear what he had to say.

“And the plan is…?” Amy prompted.

Sonic folded his arms with a huff. “I dunno, I thought you guys would have one!?”

The pink hedgehog rolled her eyes at that.

Tails piped up. “I have an idea! Sonic, you’re going to need to be curled up for this, okay?”

The hero promptly did just that, before emitting a muffled “mmhmm?” from inside his layers of quills.

“Alright then, Amy, I need you to hit Sonic with your hammer right at the side of this house.”

Sonic’s blood ran cold. “Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second can we maybe rethink thiaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

He ricocheted all over the palace like a pinball, slamming into several key points of the robot thanks to Tails’s rapid calculations. However, the robot was sadly unaffected by his screaming at a pitch that came dangerously close to shattering glass.

The robot was easily disabled and the attack overall quickly repelled after that. Thankfully, it took Sonic only a moment to recover from his impromptu stint as an out-of-control projectile and get back to fighting with the others…complete with a “Let’s do that AGAIN!” moment, which was met with a resounding no from both Amy and Tails.

Their ears were both still rather sore from last time, after all.

After Eggman was punted all the way back to his island by a well-placed kick from Sticks, though, the crew was about to head over to Meh Burger for a post-battle meal when they discovered that they had an entirely different problem to take care of. The villagers, who were beginning to come out of hiding after the attack, were furious upon seeing the damage dealt to their homes and stores.

“How could you let this happen?” one shouted.

Before long, the villagers found themselves a more specific target when the owner of the house that Sonic had smashed into pointed her finger directly in his face. “This mess is awful!” she cried. “And it’s all his fault!”

Within seconds, a mob of people had descended upon the overtaxed teen.

“I’ve never known a hero so irresponsible.” one fumed.

“How dare you!” the fennec from earlier roared.

The elderly wolf of the village shook her cane at him. “Shame on you!”

Sonic could feel himself beginning to tense up as the villagers turned their ire on him. Whether or not he’d admit it to anyone, he needed two main things in order to be his usual heroic, cheerful self: open space and positive reinforcement. Right now, he was getting exactly the opposite of both of those.

And he was not feeling good about it.

He looked briefly over to his friends for help, but Sticks had already vanished, Knuckles and Tails looked more nervous than anything, and Amy was already walking towards him with that look in her eye…

“Sonic, next time you do need to work on making sure the robot doesn’t catch you, you know-”

A streak of blue shot out of the village, leaving nothing but a scorched trail of grass and the snap of a sonic boom behind.

Sonic didn’t slow down until he reached the mountains- which technically wasn’t very far from the town at all, so he ran quite a bit more after that until he ended up in the middle of the jungle. Then, he sat down with his back to a tree and his arms around his knees, feeling very unheroic and overall pretty lame.

The blue hedgehog frowned at the dirt. Honestly, some days it really did feel like nobody seemed to like him. The only person who ever even suggested he was important on a regular basis was Tails, and Sonic didn’t blame him at all for not jumping into the middle of that crowd. Tails was only thirteen to his seventeen and a half years old- not exactly an age when he should be expected to go toe-to-toe with a crowd of angry adults.

Still, though. When being a hero got him all risk (no matter how low) and no reward...it was difficult for him to keep hold of that core feeling of “I can make the world a better place to live in!”, which, despite all his other claims, was truly at the center of what had motivated him to start fighting against Eggman so long ago…

[The scene morphs in a manner which shows the lighting shifting so that the sun is overhead. A sound effect of birds chirping plays over the scene change. This implies that it’s been several hours since he first fled the village.]

Sonic was still lost in thought when the snap of a twig in the bushes made him jump to his feet in surprise. The surrounding vegetation rustled ominously for a moment...only to reveal the four members of his team in front of him. He watched them all cautiously, his expression tense. More than anything, he looked ready to run at a moment’s notice- something which only served to make his friends(?) seem a little more distressed. “Uh…hey, guys?” he began tentatively.

“Sonic, I…” Amy began forcefully, before stopping herself. At first, it looked like she was about to scold him again, but then suddenly her face fell. “Listen, Sonic, we’ve all been talking a lot about what happened back at the village…and there’s something I want to say.” She gave a slightly tired sigh.

“I know we usually like to make jokes and witty commentary, but...sometimes, the world’s just a difficult place to be in.” she said. “...so we really do need to talk about serious stuff occasionally, even though I know it’s tough for you to even mention how you’re feeling. Unless, you know, it’s ‘great!’ or ‘cool!’ or something like that.”

Sonic cringed at the mere idea, looking more and more like he thought running away was the preferable option here.

“So what I wanted to say was that in a world where there are too many people trying to beat you down...what I was trying to do was tell you how to be more tolerant, because I thought that would help. I figured you can’t change how other people are going to be, just yourself, so I hoped that might make things better.

“But...I’m not actually a licensed therapist- yet, anyway. So I might have been wrong on how I went about that. Maybe...instead of telling you off for not being able to stop all those people...in the future I’ll pull out my hammer and tell them to knock it off already. Does that sound better to you?” she asked.

The blue hedgehog froze. “Ames…I...” he croaked, trying his best not to think about why exactly it felt like his throat was so tight all of a sudden.

Sticks folded her arms. “I like that plan! Those people are way too crazy sometimes…and you guys know I have a verrrrry high tolerance for crazy.”

“We can make the villagers quit bugging you together, just like how we fight Eggman!” Knuckles added encouragingly. “It’s always better that way, isn’t it?”

There was still one person who hadn’t spoken yet, though.

Suddenly, Tails crashed full-force into Sonic, squeezing him in a hug that for once he didn’t pretend to hate. “You know I’ve always, always, always got your back, right, Sonic? No matter what?” he asked, looking up at his older brother. “Even if I don’t always know how to do it right.”

The blue hedgehog simply nodded, not trusting his voice to help him maintain his ‘cool guy’ status.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel up to talking about it now, though.” the fox added understandingly, stepping back but still leaving a hand on his arm.

“But!” Knuckles added. “We won’t tell anyone if you ever decide you do need to get some stress off your chest every once in a while!” He smacked his own chest with a fist for emphasis.

“Nobody needs to know.” Sticks growled, the camera suddenly showing a dramatic angle of her face as the lighting dropped noticeably.

“Uh…that’s kinda dark.” Sonic said, holding up a finger with a bit of a confused frown, which let the lighting and camera angle zip back to normal.

“Anyway!” The pink hedgehog clapped her hands together, turning to face the group as a whole. “What do you guys think about heading over to my house and watching some movies? I’ll even…” She sighed, her whole body slumping. “…make some messy, simple, unprofessional chili dogs. In my state-of-the art kitchen. I know Sonic probably could use a pick-me-up right now, after all.”

“Thanks, Ames! You’re the best!” the hedgehog in question said cheerfully, the promise of good food and great companionship boosting his mood significantly.

Then, his posture shifted once again into something a little more vulnerable. “And thanks to all you guys. For, y’know, everything.”

“Of course!” Amy chirped.

Tails smiled at him. “No problem, Sonic.”

Sticks folded her arms. “That’s what a team’s for, ain’t it?”

“Of course it is!” Knuckles said, in that rather confusing manner where nobody was actually sure if he understood anything about what had just happened.

The echidna actually walked over to Sonic after that particular declaration, though, placing a hand on his shoulder as his face became uncharacteristically serious for a second. “Really, Sonic, we can all help you out, alright? Nobody gets to yell at our leader without getting yelled at back!” he declared, punching a fist into his other hand.

The hedgehog blinked twice before looking up at his friend. “You…just called me the leader?”

“Well, duh! That’s why everyone calls it Team Sonic, right?” Knuckles asked with a smile, letting an awkward (but genuine) grin spread across Sonic’s face.

Within seconds, the hero found himself squeezed in a big hug from all sides by his friends- and then actually lifted off the floor through a joint effort from Knuckles and Amy.

“Guys- come on! I can’t even move here!” he cried out, his legs flailing so quickly they made a vibrating noise in the air. “Guyyyyssss….” he whined, though nobody seemed to care much about his halfhearted complaints (judging by the happy expressions on their faces).

Then, the episode began to end, as evidenced by an iris out transition. The slowly shrinking circle paused for a moment on Sonic’s current expression, highlighting it against the otherwise black screen. He now sported a sheepish, if slightly pleased smile, complete with a faint pink blush on his face from all the positive attention.

Clearly Sonic liked being, well, liked far more than he let on.

Then, the circle snapped closed with a pop, and the credits began to roll.

[Voice Actors:

Roger Craig Smith

Colleen Villard

Travis Willingham

Cindy Robinson

Nika Futterman

Mike Pollock

Kirk Thornton

Wally Wingert

Bill Freiberger

Original creation by:

Evan Baily

Donna Friedman Meir

Sandrine Nguyen

Bill Freiberger

Takashi Iizuka

Writer/editor:

Solalunar “Sol” Eclipse

Thank you for watching reading.]

#sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #sticks the badger #i really really hope this new format was a good idea #i just had some very clear ideas about this fic that couldn't be expressed in the usual medium of character actions and dialogue #because sonic boom is very different from the sonic games and often uses camera and music-based references #(i may not roll credits every time though- just thought i'd give it a shot haha)#anyway!#i also wanted to ask: is there a particular way people would like me to use for replying to the wonderful comments i get in the tags?#because i want to let the people who take the time to leave comments know how much i appreciate it #but i'm not sure how to go about that #any suggestions?#and finally:#next time...shadow's going to show up! i can't wait to write him #as always #thanks so much for reading!#:D #sol's fanfiction

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mrwinterr · 3 years

Text

All For You

Pairing: David Budd x Female Reader

Summary: After the incident on the train that night, David returns to the apartment replaying different scenarios in his head had things gone wrong; specifically, one with you involved.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual and unprotected sex, snuggle-fuck, vaginal penetration and fingering, breath play, some roughness and dirty talk). Infidelity. Language. Sad vibes.

Disclaimer: Bodyguard (2018) TV series spoilers. This may effectively spoil episode one if you haven’t watched the show. This is set towards the beginning of the episode, but before the rest of the series plays out.

Title Inspiration: “All For You” by Night Riots

A/N: 1) The song mentioned above is beautiful. Please give it a listen. It sets the mood for this piece. 2) Here’s to our fragile babe.

It was late when David made it back to the apartment. The room was dark, all the lights were shut off, but there’s a considerable amount that shone out from the window of the city, illuminating his path around, and there was a faint smell of food that filled his nostrils from the half empty box of cold pizza laid out on the coffee table in front of the television.

The small details sent a warm feeling throughout his body. Countless memories scrolled in his head as he looked over at the empty couch, thinking back to all the times he’d watch you eat food there while your favorite show that season was on, him joining you to cheer on your hometown sports team, the both of you falling asleep during a movie. He swore y’all dined more at that coffee table than the table in the kitchen.

He lifted the lid of the box and thought if he was really hungry or not. It had his favorite toppings on it, but no matter how appealing the dish was, tonight’s events were too fresh and powerful to brush aside.

He had successfully foiled a terrorist attack on the train taking him and his kids back home. David had been through a lot during his term in Afghanistan, but he’d never been more scared in his life than when he thought about all the things he’d be robbed of had Nadia pushed the button on the trigger of the bomb strapped around her.

Ella and Charlie always came first in his life. His children meant the entire world to him. As much as David loved the time he had with them even if it was the dreading moments of having to send them back to their mother, he cherished every single second. The weekend the three of them spent at his mother’s was what he needed to help him clear his head. It’s insane to think just how quickly life can turn around.

After properly storing the food into the refrigerator, he shrugs his jacket off and sets his footwear against the wall and out of the way before heading towards his room except he never goes inside. He looks over to the room across and he can see you tucked and in bed from the slit of your opened door.

So many thoughts run through David’s mind, he feels like he could explode at any minute. The world was a mess enough as it is. The war didn’t do or leave him any favors. His unpredictable moods left him and his wife Vicky estranged. He couldn’t be there all the time for Ella and Charlie as they had to bounce back and forth between each parent. The only light in all of this was knocked out in the next room.

Aside from his comrades, not a lot of people stuck around long enough to tolerate the new version of himself that returned from the war. The relationship between David and you was something that never reached its potential. It was one of those never in the right moment sort of things. You met during your days at University. You had loved another before him and when studying abroad proved a long-distance relationship wasn’t possible, by the time you came back to graduate David was in love with someone else.

Soon enough, he was married with two children. You held no distaste for Vicky at all. You felt for her when she divulged to you about David’s episodes. The pair of you still communicated and you often found yourself watching over Ella and Charlie while she or David were busy with work.

When David’s PTSD started to get really serious and he profusely refused to get help, Vicky no longer felt safe with him in the house, she had no choice but to kick him out. You knew she was only doing it for the sake of Ella and Charlie, but secretly you already knew she was moving on.

You welcomed David into your apartment and let him stay for as long as he needed granted you had a spare room he could occupy. There was no sense in denying you always loved him and would support whatever his heart desired whether that meant helping him repair his relationship with Vicky or not.

It doesn’t go without saying that there have been casual slip-ups. You had both kissed before, felt one another, and even satisfied the other, but all that still didn’t define the relationship. He was still legally married to Vicky. The topic of their relationship was almost forbidden. You knew David held a high amount of respect for you and you couldn’t blame him for not knowing where his heart stood.

It hurt to see how much torment he got left with from trying to defend his country and you’d experienced first-hand those very episodes Vicky talked about and more. Time after time, there’d be arguments enough to deduce you to tears from his booming voice and ill words when the proposition of him seeking professional help arose. Then other times he’d break down right in front of you.

Grateful he hadn’t exhibited any violent behavior yet, as much care as you could offer to him, you knew that you still had to watch out for yourself too. Again, you’d always love David, whatever version of him. The same one you fell in love with was still in there. Your heart had ached for David’s well-being. If you could heal him with just your touch, you’d do it. Everything you did was all for David.

The room that offered him a preview of you compelled him enough to slip through the crack. It wasn’t uncommon for either of you to slide into the other's bed at this point. He removes his shirt and jeans, setting them on a nearby chair, and gently sits down at the end of your bed.

Given the events of the past 24 hours, the last thing he wanted was to be alone. If things had gone wrong, you would be alone.

The only sounds that could be heard were of the bustling city outside and if he paid close enough attention, which he did, your soft sighs of slumber were also audible. He leaned his elbows on top of his knees and stared straight into his reflection in the mirror of your vanity that was set in front of him.

David couldn’t help but think of all the possible outcomes that might’ve happened had he not been able to stop the attack.

First, he thought about Ella and Charlie and their safety foremost. At only ten and eight years old, they had so much to live for. If they were taken with him and the other passengers, he hated to imagine how Vicky would feel.

Vicky was another thought and how broken beyond repair they were at. He had felt so stupid thinking he could try and make a move on her hours ago. She was already adjusting to her new life without him. He also felt guilty and ashamed because he felt as if by that advance he was betraying you.

You were a thought in of itself. The second his life was in danger and he came face-to-face with the suicide bomber, he knew he was going to leave this world without ever setting things straight between you two. All the things he shared with Vicky, their wedding, their honeymoon, the birth of their children - all of those life moments he once dreamed of sharing with you, without him, you’d end up sharing with someone else.

There’s nothing stopping you from doing that right now with him alive actually. He could lose you regardless of the outcome on the train, but when life flashes in front of your eyes and the main source of your survival and happiness are at the forefront of your attention, you want nothing more than to seize opportunities at the second chance you’re given. It was a wakeup call.

David diverts his eyes from himself and over to your sleeping figure. He studied the peaceful aura you radiated, with the rise and fall of your body and soft breathing, you were quiet in a world so full of noise. While he held so much admiration for you, he also envied you. You had your life under control, at least enough to let you rest at night. However, David couldn’t hold that against you because you tried tirelessly to help him.

By some miracle, he was able to coax Nadia into trusting him and surrender. He lived to see another day and perhaps this was the world telling him this was his chance with you. Aside from his doomed relationship with Vicky, there was really nothing in the way of you two being together this time. He survived a war and tonight...and you were right there. Could he really live a life without him proclaiming his love for you? And that was it for David. He’d had enough.

He moves over to the space behind you, your back facing him. He carefully draws the blanket draped over your body up so he could get under them with you. The covers settle in their new spot on the lower halves of your bodies, just barely above the hips, and David starts to run his hand on the smooth skin of your exposed arm.

The contact stirs you awake, but your eyelids weigh too heavy to open them in your tired state. You’d fought for as long as your body could allow you to, waiting for David, before succumbing to sleep. You revel in his tender touch, the warmth of his body transferring onto yours, and not realizing your body starts to rub up against his until you feel the puffs of his hot breath behind your ear along with a string of small incoherent noises.

By now, the front of his body is flushed and parallel behind yours, his legs tangled with your legs. The hand that was previously caressing your arm had snaked its way around your midsection resting on your abdomen, cheekingly on the patch of skin that wasn’t covered by the ridden-up camisole. You reach down and grab that hand to bring it up and place it at your breastbone, allowing him to feel the beat of your heart, with your fingers interlocked. Never had either one of you felt perfectly fit with another than with each other.

Featherweight kisses are stamped all around the back and crook of your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine, creating a domino effect that rippled through your body as your legs, still weaved in his, start to tousle with one another. The top of his thighs occasionally brushing the underside of your panties increasing the friction and your grip on his hand grows tighter. When his tongue licks along the shell of your ear, you let out a breathy response from being caught off guard by his actions.

You’re not in control of your body anymore as your hips buck backwards and grind rough up against his groin on their own. You loved to hear him, whether it be his ragged breathing or the sultry moans or the filthy words that spewed out of his luscious lips - whatever because it was you that caused it.

The hand that was held hostage by yours against your sternum, trapped between each breast, broke free. Now in control, it snuck underneath the thin clothing material, and back to its previous position in front of your breasts before grabbing a handful of flesh. Your shirt twisted and stretched from the movements, and all your hand could do was go along for the ride as he kneaded your breasts.

When he had his fill, his hand wandered all over your body, abandoning yours, as it ran along your ribs, your curves, your hips and then slithered into the front of your panties. The palm of his hand ignites a tingle in your lower region until his fingers glide along the slit of your pussy, and in an up-and-down motion gathering some of your arousal. Once his digits are wet enough, he settles them on your clit and begins rubbing small, delicate circles. Your breathing increases and your free hand reaches out to grab a hold of the bed sheets due to the pressure he applied every now and then.

He switches up the routine by taking turns rubbing your clit and teasing the entrance of your opening, to gradually and expertly slipping in and giving a curl or two inside of you.

“You feel that?” He asks, his finger hooking inside, “I can feel you,” he says before extending the digit to dive in deeper. David comments huskily in your ear, “so wet,” then teasingly nibbling on it, “so warm...and ready for me.”

Your arousal overflowing, slicking your thighs and staining the bed. His fingers were beginning to move faster, running off course, and just begging for the dam to break. The lewd wet noises mixed in with the moans, you choke out a gasp, no longer able to keep hold of the reservoir as you come from his handy work. His wet hand grips your waist in an attempt to hold you still all while you’re drowning in the pleasure.

You mumble swears into the side of the pillow while also trying to wipe the sweat that had built up around your forehead on the fabric. You’re not sure what brought that on, but who were you to complain? His release is your pleasure. Whatever he needed to work out, you were more than willing to be at his disposal.

Shuffling noises could be heard behind you, but you’re still recovering from the first orgasm. It’s not until the crotch of your panties are being pushed to the side and you feel the tip of his bare cock, the velvety skin rubbing harshly between your folds, when he pushes in your eyes snap open. There’s a slight sting at the intrusion with every inch of his thick cock sinking in deeper and deeper, stretching you out. He’s got almost a death grip on your hips as he basks in the warmth of your walls. His hand loosens its hold only to hoist your leg up, as it now rests on the bed, giving him more room to properly fuck you. All you can hear is his jagged and warm breaths pounding at your eardrum.

The force of his thrusts pushes you little by little away from him, he has to wrap his arms around you to keep you in place. Now unable to escape his embrace, you hold onto his forearms tightly as hip hips continue to collide into yours.

“Oh-oh my...God,” you can barely muster up a full sentence, “Fuck! Dav-...you’re-...it feels so good, David,” and it sounds as if the words are being knocked out of your mouth with each thrust. He liked hearing his name spill from your lips and as if you read his mind you give him that until your throat is dry and the intensity of his actions render you unable to do so.

Your hands itching to grab a hold of any part of him, you release your death grip on the bed sheets and reach behind you, over your head, and fist a handful of his short dark hair. It’s hot and sweaty, but you don’t care because the noise you pull out from deep in his throat ignites a new spark in the pit of your stomach and your walls to involuntarily squeeze his length.

He reluctantly pulls out of you and presses your body down to lie flat on your back. The fervor coursing through his veins causes him to pull your underwear all the way down your legs, a light snap could be heard from the rough tug indicating the damage done. After he peels off the sweat stained top off of your body and rids himself completely of his boxers, David settles in between your legs, braces one hand on the side of your head to support himself as the other cradles it.

David brushes the matted hair away from your face. It’s still considerably dark and only the moonlight that peaks through the slit of the drawn curtains help his eyes settle on you and take in the vulnerable look on your face; both bare open for the other. You can feel the ridge of the head of his cock glide against your clit and you wonder why he’s taking so long to finish what he started.

“David, please,” you plead softly. Your hand had come up to trace the outline of his jaw, the first signs of an early stubble pricking the skin on the palm of your hand.

He nods in response and slowly slides his body down a few inches to glide right back in. Your back arches and presses up against his, your hardened nipples poke into the soft faint tresses of hair on his chest. David’s hips ground into yours in wavelike motions, hitting deeper and deeper. He dips his head down closer to you, your mouth hung open in ecstasy, allowing him to tug your bottom lip with his teeth then sucking on the full muscle. David runs his tongue along it to soothe the swollenness before dipping in the cavern of your mouth.

Your tongues instantly collide with one another’s. Your eyes shut tightly, wetness pooling at the corners from the ardent passion radiating from both you and David’s actions. He felt so damn good. You wished you could have this, be like this with him, for the rest of your days, but the reality of it all wasn’t going to just hand it to you so easily. His children, Vicky, his profession, his PTSD - despite all those, you’d go through it all. All for David.

You pull your mouth off his for some air. You open your eyes to see him staring right into you. The bright blue eyes turned a deeper shade, almost black in the night and from want, but you could still make out the sadness behind them. The tears that had run down the side of your face for him burn your ears. Now more than anything you wanted to make him feel good, even if it was only temporary. He needed this release.

“It’s okay,” you’re still struggling to communicate, trying to block the pleasure so you can speak properly, “it’s okay, David...you can use me,” finding one of his hands in yours and finally giving him permission.

David stills, eyes never leaving yours, he’s looking for confirmation that he heard you right. Why would you want him to do that to you? His heart swelled at the notion that you trusted him, but he couldn’t trust himself. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You see his mouth open and close, but nothing audible comes out, so you take the initiative and grab the hand that wasn’t supporting him over your frame. You crane your head back, baring yourself to him, and then place his hand on the column of your neck, his fingers settling themselves around it naturally. He shakes his head in protest, you start to feel his hand slipping away, but you’re quick to reposition his hand back on you.

“Are you sure? I might not be able to stop,” he says hesitantly. Your eyes silently let him know you’re certain. This time he nods and leans in for a bruising kiss to your lips, the close proximity of his face momentarily blocks your airway. When he pulls away, he gives you a few seconds to transition.

The quick and sharp thrusts don’t make it easy because that alone knocked the wind out of you, yet you won’t deny the sweet sensation of his dick probing your spot. The pleasure is almost enough to do the job on its own until the pressure from David’s fingers around your throat tightens gradually.

You’re rendered helpless underneath David as he gets back into rhythm. He maneuvers his legs to get him into a slight kneeling position, lifting your hips up, your legs dangle off his thick thighs, but this allows for him to use the hand previously supporting him to join the other on your neck. The realization of him kicking it up a notch sends a warning signal to your brain and you suddenly start to get scared. Sure, you trusted David, but that didn’t block out the fact that he still wasn’t stable.

You struggle to swallow down any fear and even to widen your eyes as his grip grows tighter and tighter. You can’t even gurgle out a whimper of protest. You’re lucky enough to raise your arms and bring your hands on his and desperately attempt to pry his fingers off you. You stare right back at David and notice his empty eyes. He wasn’t in control anymore and you didn’t dare think who he was seeing in front of him instead of you.

In a heat of frenzy, your legs kick up wildly, frantically trying to push his body off yours. Your efforts prove successful as David’s body falters, however only letting his full body weight collapse on you. Before your vision turns black, you manage to pull one hand away from your neck, creating a sense of ease to creep back in, but the hard look on his face crushes your hopes when you think you’ve lost him.

“Dav-“ you attempt to speak, “David,” his name comes out choppy, but you’re able to get something out. “David, it’s me…,” you plead, hoping that’s enough to bring him back.

“David, please,” the grip of his hand might as well have been iron shut around your neck, you’re like an animal clawing at a door. So just when you think that wasn’t enough, that you weren’t enough, you use the last bit of oxygen to admit your feelings, “I’m sorry, David…” you swore you saw his eyes blink, but nothing changed until your next three words, “I love you,” that all movements ceased. You’d given up, but he stayed hovered over you in shock. Then he instantly lets go allowing oxygen to start flowing through you regularly again.

David slides out and off of you, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed in a sitting position with his back to you once more, a hand over his mouth. He can’t believe he’d actually lost control of himself around you. He saw you had trusted him, but he knew he wasn’t well. He should’ve never let you go through with it. He could’ve unintentionally killed you.

You greedily sucked air back into your system and rubbed the soreness on your neck before looking over to David. His sobs wreck his body and you can tell by the slight whimpers and sniffling sounds. You pull yourself up, paying no mind to any modesty, and scoot closer to him. You cautiously lie your head against his back. You feel his body stiffen a bit, so you begin to softly trace the lines of battle scars that scattered his back, delicate touches on the soft tissue, hoping to calm him down.

“David, it’s okay,” your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s still audible and clear, “I’m okay,” you assure him. He finally turns his body around to face you and your heart breaks at the distress on his beautiful face. You feel guilty you let him do this, but you’re not allowed to feel sorry for yourself too long because David wanted to talk about something else.

“You love me?” He questions and your mouth hangs open, at a loss of words, because you’ve already forgotten that you let that slip. There’s a forlorn look of hope etched along his features and your heart stops. There’s no sense in denying it any longer. If it hadn’t been clear before it sure as hell would be by the end of the night.

You nod and confirm, “always...I’ve always loved you, David.” There wasn’t a need to explain for how long. The admission of feelings alone were enough for David to forget about all the wasted time as he dove in, his lips in search of yours again.

He keeps a hand at the back of your head to keep you close, more “I love you’s” spewing from your mouth each time your lips separate for a split second before reattaching themselves. The declaration never goes deaf on both your ears, hearts beating faster and faster.

With your lips resisting to pull away from one another, you manage to crawl onto his lap, straddling him, the moment reignites the fire inside you. You rise up on your knees, giving you a slight height advantage, you brace one hand on his shoulder, the other reaches down between your bodies to grip his still hardened cock. It’s hot and heavy and slightly sticky in your hand as you rub the tip of the head along the pathway to your entrance, effectively coating him for an easy route.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” you say with bated breath and focused only on him, “please.” Not much convincing was needed, and David’s cock slips back in your wet heat with no protest. You sink all the way down, grinding your hips in circular motions, your clit rubbing against his skin and ensuring he’s bottomed out.

“Oh, you feel good,” he says, voice growing deeper, and at first he’s cautious before laying his hands back on you, but they settle on the sides of your hips and begin to help guide you up and down his cock, “too good,” he growls when you quickly catch on with the movements.

He’s able to drag your bodies to the center of the bed, but when the boiling point rises back up, you push him down, lean back with your hands on his legs to support you, and head thrown back. David picks his head up and the position allows for him to see not only your naked body but how your pussy engulfs his cock repeatedly sending him into overdrive.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” David chants each time his cock is hidden inside you and he resorts to chewing on his bottom lip to contain the expletives.

You feel his hand reach behind you, grabbing a handful of your ass, his strength pulls you in closer by the hips so he’s in all the way once more, you can feel his balls pressed up tight against your bottom, then your body topples over his. You brace your palms of his pecs to prevent you from falling headfirst into him, but his other hand is already at the back of your head bringing your lips back to each other. David’s hips start bucking up into yours to get you back into the groove, but the ache in your legs don’t allow you to perform at 100% anymore.

David rolls your bodies over, with you underneath, and his hips quicken in pace. Your body heaves uncontrollably as you’re close to the edge again and the sweat glistening on your skin has David’s mouthwatering.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he comments sliding a hand down your slick body from between the valley of your breasts and to the top of your mound. He wants to say I love you so badly but feels the moment he does he’d break down once more. He knew he loved you and always had too, but in his mind, he didn’t want to give you the hope of having to live with his damaged self. You didn’t need to hear it though because you could feel it.

“Come on, baby,” you encourage him, “give it to me, David,” and your hands finding a new spot on his firm ass to pull him in deeper, “I want it all,” you resort to a begging tactic. It deems successful when you start to feel the sting of each brutal thrust of his hip bones knock into yours causing you to hiss and your nails to dig into his buttocks as he chases sweet euphoria.

He tackles it at the finish line, stilling deep inside of you, and the feeling of his cum spraying straight into your spot, spurts in different intervals, is more than enough to help you tackle your own release. Your legs keep his body locked in, waiting for the aftershocks to subside, he’s quivering from your walls uncontrollably contracting tight around his cock and he does so much as to let out groans in gratification.

Once the waves of pleasure die down, your limbs drop, and he carefully pulls out. He doesn’t know if it was a mistake or not watching his sensitive cock emerge from you, covered in a glossy coat from your release, and his seed spilling out of you slowly then slide down your sore lower half and stain the bed sheets because it begins to elicit more dirty thoughts, but both of your heavy breathing and aching bodies help suggest to put those ideas away for now.

In these rare moments, you were enough to help him block out the world’s harsh realities. He doesn’t regret Ella and Charlie, but never stops wondering how it’d been like if he had kids with you first. Had he waited just a little bit longer for you, but what was the point in dwelling in any of that now? The internal conflict in his mind caused droplets of tears to splash against your cheeks and you start to notice his hurt.

All you do is wrap your arms back around him to pull him into your loving embrace, him nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and you placing kisses on his head while also running your fingers through his hair. Both of you can feel each other’s heart beats returning to its regular cardiac rhythms. The heavy breathing starts to fade away and the faint sounds of the city start to take over once more as you both begin to drift off.

David would work. He’d work on himself for you. You deserve the best version of him. It was going to take a lot of hard work and willpower, and there would sure to be many obstacles, but now that life presented him with a second chance and allowed him the privilege to be loved by you, he desired nothing more than to return the same compassion. All for you. It was always there within him to love you but locked away when it found no hope or chance to be fulfilled.

He didn’t dare think about what the following morning at work had in store for him or what would result in the catalyst of it all because in that moment he had you with him.

A/N: There are only two shows I’d willingly have my memory wiped of just for the thrill in rewatching: Prison Break and Bodyguard. I’d have said Twin Peaks, but that’s always going to lie a mystery within. & maybe GoT, but that ruined my life. Anyway, give this some love for our fragile babe! Thank you for reading!

#mrwinterr writes #david budd imagine #david budd smut #richard madden imagine #richard madden smut #david budd x reader #david budd x y/n #richard madden x y/n #david budd x yn #richard madden x yn #bodyguard imagine

481 notes · View notes

natromanxoff · 3 years

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Queen live at Forest National in Brussels, Belgium - August 24, 1984

Some parts of the Hammer To Fall promo video were filmed during this show - the camera was filming the audience reactions during TYMD, Radio Ga Ga and Hammer To Fall. On the next day 20 fans from the Dutch fan club were invited to come again to the filming of the promo video.

At the gig, the band asked the audience to return the following day for the shoot. However, most likely assuming it was all a joke, the vast majority stayed away; in fact only a dozen fans turned up. Undeterred, the shoot went ahead anyway, with the band's performance that day interspersed with footage shot the previous night.

(x)

This is the first show of The Works tour.

According to the July '89 issue of Record Collector, Queen ran through about 40 songs during rehearsals. This list of songs rehearsed that didn't end up in the setlist comes from someone who worked on the tour:

Great King Rat (longer version), Brighton Rock (full song), I'm In Love With My Car, Sweet Lady, White Man, We Will Rock You (fast), Play The Game, Need Your Loving Tonight, Put Out The Fire, Las Palabras de Amor, Life Is Real (both Freddie solo piano and Freddie/Brian acoustic duet versions)

The keyboardist for this tour (and also the '86 Magic tour) is session musician Spike Edney. He would also lend some vocals to many songs and play rhythm guitar in Hammer To Fall. He and Roger Taylor would form a band called "The Cross" in 1987 which spawned three albums, and he would return to Queen in the 21st century to play on the tours with Paul Rodgers and Adam Lambert.

Spike was recruited in a very informal way by a Queen associate. He went to Munich for their first rehearsal in early August, wound up partying for most of the first night, and missed the first day's rehearsal. It later transpired that everyone else had. He recalls, "The next day, we all managed to get to it eventually, to the first rehearsal, and all the gear was set up. The stage was huge, and I thought "Oh well, here we go then" and we got to the first song , and what I'd forgotten was that they hadn't actually played together for two years. So they said, OK, let's try one of the new songs, I think it was Radio Ga Ga, and we started playing it, and course, I knew it, I'd been studying it for weeks. You know, 1,2,3,4 and we start and we get about a minute into the song and the whole thing collapses. And they all look at each other, you know, very sheepishly, and they say, "Anyone know how it goes?" and I say "well, actually, I know. I know how it goes" and they said "Ah". And so I started showing them the chords and everything and Fred looked at me and said "You don't know the words, do you?" and "Well, yeah I do actually" so then they all came round the piano and we spent the whole day just going through songs, and I thought, "I'm gonna be all right here, this'll be OK"!"

The show started very late, as the band were still doing soundcheck when they were supposed to go on. Apparently over the previous week there were few occasions when all four band members actually showed up for rehearsal. Many songs (likely those listed above) never made the setlist, and soundcheck was an extensive cramming session, particularly for the older material that they hadn't played in years.

Roger Taylor later reflected that this European tour was one of his favourites, and many fans cite the early Works setlist as their favourite ever played by the band. Three medleys are now played, two of which have revived many old songs: Killer Queen, Seven Seas Of Rhye, Keep Yourself Alive, Liar, Stone Cold Crazy and Great King Rat. Staying Power from Hot Space returns to the set, as does Sheer Heart Attack from News Of The World. Only half of Staying Power is played, and it runs into Dragon Attack, followed by an improvisation running into a more compact version of Now I'm Here compared to previous tours.

Many people who attended shows on this tour recall Queen having a very heavy sound, especially on songs like Liar and Stone Cold Crazy. By 1984 they had gained a reputation as being one of the best live rock acts in the business.

Six songs from The Works are performed each night, and the introduction tape is from the album track "Machines". After the heavy G chords are heard on the tape twice, the band walk on stage in the darkness to play the chords the third time, which leads into the brand new "Tear It Up". This is yet another effective opening to a Queen show, something they would perfect time and time again.

I Want To Break Free is performed each night in 1984-85 as the first encore, with Freddie coming on stage sporting a pair of huge plastic breasts under a pink shirt. Part way through the song, he would remove the breasts and twirl them around for a while before finally throwing them into the audience. Some souvenir! As a result of this gag, Another One Bites The Dust has been moved from the encore to be earlier in the set.

This tour showcases an incredible lighting rig and an overall setup mimics the movie Metropolis, from which scenes were used for the promo video of Radio Ga Ga last year. The huge wheels behind the stage (modelled after the ones on The Works album cover) rotate at mostly random times - usually because they are turned manually by various crew members such as Roger's tech Chris "Crystal" Taylor whenever they have a free moment (Freddie Mercury's assistant Peter Freestone told the tale in 2021):

“Yeah, I mean Rio was… amazing. The feeling from that crowd… you know, something like 350,000 people. Oh, you can’t beat that. And when you’re flying in a helicopter over that crowd, it was stunning. But the thing is, I know this sounds really, really stupid but [laughs]… one thing I will always, always remember from that tour was, remember, in the back of the stage you had these wheels that turned every now and then, not constantly but just every now and then. That was because there was… the guy looking after Roger’s drums and me who actually turned those wheels. And there was no set cue or anything that, “Oh, it has to start on this bar, on this song.” No, it was when he wasn’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, we’d say “Ok, let’s go and do it.” And we turned the wheels for a couple of minutes and then left them alone. He had then to do something for Roger and I would just sit there like I always did. And then you’d go back and you’d turn the wheels, like a hamster. We were like hamsters…”

However, a crew member who worked on the tour recalls otherwise: "I do know local crew members were used on the UK shows and certainly (a number of) European gigs. The other thing is that Radio Ga Ga had a set piece with the cogs and lighting, using low ambient lighting and strobes to emphasise mechanical motion of the cogs during the instrumental break. Would Roger Taylor be happy with no one covering him/his kit during a show? Possibly Peter Freestone is remembering production rehearsals when any spare bodies might have been asked to operate the cogs?"

During vocal improvisations on this tour, Freddie would often include bits of "Foolin' Around" and "Living On My Own" from his pending first solo album, which he had been working on during this period.

Freddie now plays a Telecaster for Crazy Little Thing Called Love. It would remain like this through the Magic tour.

The band no longer bring a gong with them on the road. Roger now does a cymbal roll at the end of Bohemian Rhapsody.

A fan recalls hearing the band running through Tear It Up whilst queuing up to enter the venue.

Freddie's voice is in superb shape for this show, but it will quickly weaken as the tour progresses. As incredible as Freddie Mercury was, he certainly did not take care of his voice at times, especially in the mid-80s. After a couple years of heavy smoking, Freddie's voice now sounds a lot deeper and raspier overall.

Before It's A Hard Life, Freddie says, "I think tonight we're gonna do songs from just about every album that we've ever made. You heard some very early stuff from the first album. Right now I think we're gonna do something very new, and we'll see what you think of it."

Freddie does a vocal exchange with the audience before Staying Power, singing "Get Down Make Love" and "Gimme Some Lovin" a few times. The band would improvise bits of the latter a couple times in 1986.

This is the only show on the entire Works tour where Roger plays regular acoustic drums on Another One Bites The Dust (before which Freddie teases the audience with a bit of Mustapha). For the rest of the tour, he'd play electronic drums. He'd also integrate the electronic drum kit into a few other songs, like at the beginning of Hammer To Fall, where one might argue that his sounds don't appropriately complement the guitar to create the intense, heavy sound.

The band sound very tight on this opening night of the tour, with the only exception being the rough transition from Stone Cold Crazy to Great King Rat. The keyboard and guitar solos are integrated together for the first few shows of the tour, during which Brian plays a few bits from Machines. Spike Edney uses his vocoder (a Roland VP-330) for the "machines" and "back to humans" lines heard throughout the tour during this spot (he would use his vocoder for the "radio" lines in Radio Ga Ga as well). After this segment, Brian then gets a few minutes to play on his own as usual.

Parts of the promo video for Hammer To Fall were filmed during this show. Claims from some (even official) sources state that Freddie invited the audience back for (what would actually be "additional") filming the following day aren't true. Here is all that Freddie had to say before the song: "This next song we're gonna use in our next video. So everybody just go mad and maybe later you'll see one of you guys inside the video one day. Oh, just go crazy, take your clothes off. It's called Hammer To Fall." After the song, he simply says, "Good night, you guys!" as that was the last song of the set.

Here is a fan's recollection: "On the night of the gig, there was a camera mounted on an arm that would swing over the front rows of the audience during a few songs. These audience shots were taken during Tie Your Mother Down, Radio Ga Ga, and Hammer To Fall itself. I guess they also had a camera up in the box at the back of the hall [as there are a few shots of both the audience and the band]. I don't remember any cameras onstage during the gig - just the one mounted on the arm."

The Dutch fan club invited only about twenty of its members to attend the video shoot the next day. They were instructed by a roadie to sit quietly on a chair and not to move or approach the band members. After a few hours, Brian came over and had a chat with them, checking to see if they were enjoying themselves and if they were hungry. He then promptly ordered them some take-out!

A minute of Tie Your Mother Down from this show was later broadcast on the Belgian TV station "RTBF" (x) (x). An audience-shot video allegedly exists as well, containing five songs.

After years of speculation, the existence of more footage from this show was proven when bits of it were included in the promo video for Let Me In Your Heart Again in 2014. About 30 seconds of Somebody To Love (largely crowd shots) were seen. There is, however, no accompanying audio. (x)

The first photo is from the autumn 1984 Queen fan club magazine. Brian is seen with a watchful eye over the proceedings. Tour manager Gerry Stickells and his wife are also in the shot.

Pics 2 through 6 were submitted by Alessio Rizzitelli, and the seventh pic was taken by Dave Matkin.

(x)

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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imaginesupply · 3 years

Text

You have my permission - Tom Hiddleston smut (sub!Tom)

Summary : Tom throws a tantrum and his mistress gives him more than he bargained for.

Warnings: Sub!Tom, switch!Tom, oral (f receiving), PIV, body fluids and aftercare.

Words: 4.4k

Smut after the cut.

She strolled inside the bedroom behind Tom, her fingers dexterously removing the heavy earrings that were weighing down her earlobes painfully. Setting them down on the dresser with a relieved sigh, she turned to Tom whose back to her as he crouched down and took off his shoes. What a nice ass, she mused with a grin.

"A bath or a movie, which do you fancy?" She asked, offering him the choice. Tom had seemed off at dinner, not his usual cheerful self and she was concerned. Yet, truth be told, she was tired and though a bath was relaxing perspective, she doubted she'd have the energy to leave the tub once the water lost its warmth, but those were two activities she knew Tom enjoyed particularly and she wanted to treat her good boy to a pleasant evening.

"I don't care."

She stopped in her tracks even as she opened the drawer for a fresh nightdress, a frown taking over her face. "What was that?"

"I don't care." Tom repeated more forcefully.

She had heard him right the first time, then. Hiding her surprise well, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll remind you, darling, that's not how you speak to me."

Tom was barefoot now but standing up to his full height by the bed, an expression on his face that she wasn't acquainted with. "Or what?" He sneered with sarcasm, so far from the sweet boy she knew.

With an eye roll, she dropped the night dress on the bed. Tom had already broken so many rules within the past minute, but she was feeling clement. After all, unlike him, she had enjoyed herself immensely at dinner.

"What is it, Thomas? Why are you being so fussy tonight?" She sighed with resignation. As much as his attitude was grating on her nerves, she needed to know that he was alright. "Come on, sit down," she ordered gently, patting the mattress next to her.

"No!"

"No?" She was giving him one last chance.

To her surprise, Tom groaned, his hands tightening into fists for a moment before loosening again. "No, I will not sit down just because you told me to, not after..."

Her patience with him was thinning down to a hair width. This was not how she had envisioned their evening, but she would spend the night punishing him if she had to.

"Either you tell me exactly what's going on, Thomas, or you'll spend the next couple of days with a painful bottom," she promised, crossing her arms over her chest and just barely resisting tapping her foot on the floor.

His face changed at once. Tom knew those weren't idle threats. He winced, remembering the last time she had uttered those words. Still, he couldn't shake off the fury that gnawed at him from the inside.

"I did not like our waiter tonight, nor the way you behaved with him." Tom finally confessed though his voice remained petulant.

She was unable to hold back a scoff. Was her good boy acting out because he was jealous? "Really? I thought he was very efficient, and I treated him the same respect I do all other people."

Tom's eyes widened at her statement and suddenly all she could see was their light, vibrant blue. “He spent the entire evening with his eyes glued onto your cleavage! He touched your hand when he filled your glass! And you didn't even say anything, you just let him do it!" He spat accusatorily.

A tantrum, then, she concluded, leaning back against the wall with an amused smirk as she sized him up. Thomas has misbehaved in the past - some small misdemeanours here or there that had warranted a proportionate disciplinary response from her - but this was on an entirely different level. For some reason, punishment didn't seem like the appropriate response this time around.

"Very well, Tom. You've made your case and I’ve listened." She saw it in his eyes, relief washing over the sizzling emotion that she now recognised as jealousy. "What is your solution?"

Tom didn't manage to hide his reaction at her words. He felt put on the spot, her taunting stare intimidating him more than any handcuffs or collar ever could, and without the comfort that came with them. The usually eloquent man stuttered. "I don't know, mistress," he admitted, all sudden burst of courage gone but the look on her face let him know she wasn’t satisfied with the answer. "I just need to know you're as much mine as I'm yours, mistress."

He was back to being her good boy, it appeared, puppy eyes begging to be forgiven for his previous outburst. She licked her lower lip, anticipating the fun that was to come, before nodding as she tilted her head. This was a great occasion for a lesson, she decided. "Let me be yours, then. You have my permission."

Tom blinked once, then twice. Stunned didn’t begin to cover it. Was she really...? No, it couldn't be. "I'm quite not sure I understand, mistress."

She cocked her brow at his reaction. Oh, this was going to be so much better than a movie or a soak. Lightly waving her hand at herself, she made it crystal clear to him.

"I'm yours tonight, to do as you please." Thomas gulped at her offer - no - her command, feeling his Adam's apple tightening just like his trousers. "Claim me, mark me, ravish me. Whatever you want - I can take it.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Isn't that what you wanted, darling?" She goaded him.

Tom was taken aback, so much so, he didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. He’d never been in this position before. With other women, sure. But her? His mistress? His only mistress? He wouldn’t lie and pretend the thought had never crossed his mind, but it was never more than some delirious fantasies that taunted him when she kept him teetering on the edge for hours on end and his sanity became scarce. Tom tried to recall what he did to all the women before her, how he had his way with them before… before his mistress helped him discover who he was and what he truly needed.

He gazed upon her again, taking in the way she was waiting for him to do something, head cocked expectantly, exposing the slender column of her neck, the upward tilt op her lip never quite turning into a smirk yet not straying far from it. She was taunting him, testing him. Tom that even if he seized control now, it would be at her demand. No matter what he did, she’d still have the upper hand. She was not giving herself to him the way he gave herself to her. No, she was simply humouring him like a pet. And it made him want nothing more than to make her choke on her words.

I can take it, she’d said. He would be the judge of that, he vowed.

With two long strides, he crossed the room, stopping only he had crowded her against the navy wall. Even with the black high heels she fancied, Tom towered over her. His fingers went to her chin, tilting her face upwards and forcing her to look into his eyes before he leant down and kissed her ferociously. He let his tongue invade her mouth, the back of her head hitting the wall behind her as their teeth clicked together. And then he hesitated, a small pause in his moves as if he waited once again for her permission. Instead, she smiled against his lips, encouraging him silently and then gasped in mouth under the reprised assault, surprising both of them with the sweet sound.

Tom broke off the kiss, tracing his lips along her jawline before settling on the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She flinched against him when he started sucking on her skin, stopping only to alternate with nibbles. To his surprise, she didn’t protest. In lieu of that, she was oddly compliant under his touch even as the guilty feeling that he was doing something naughty and forbidden invaded him. Would she punish him later? Shaking off these thoughts, he thrust up his hips, pressing the outline of his throbbing erection against her lower stomach. Her shaky, shallow breaths were driving him mad.

He had perhaps expected that she would rock her hips against him, rub herself on him like a cat in heat. Tom should have known better than to predict her reactions. She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his balls and the base of his erection, adding yet another layer between his cock and the sweet cunt he so desired. His lips went slack against her neck. She knew just how much pressure to apply, knew what drove him wild better than he himself did. After all, she was his mistress. She also knew he hadn’t been granted permission to cum for the past three days.

His hand fisted her hair tightly, pulling on it and giving her no choice but to look up at him. She was beautiful like this; he had never seen her from this angle. Like a black rose, it was beautiful to look at, but unnatural. She then had the audacity to grin, her hand never stopping its languid caress, not even when he tilted her head so back far, she was looking up at the ceiling. The position exposed all her elegant neck to him. Tom could spot the frantic pulsing of her artery just next to the hickey he had sucked onto her skin. He should cover her in hickeys, he decided; her neck, of course, but also her collarbones, her breasts, the dips on her hips and the skin on her inner thighs that was softer than velvet and silk combined.

An opportunist, she had used his short distraction to loosen up his belt just enough to slither her small hand inside his trousers and boxers. He gasped at her touch, warm breath puffing against her skin before he seized her wandering hand without a warning, pinning it on the wall above her head.

Tom glared down at her, nostrils flared and eyes dark; a silent warning. She wasn’t used to submitting, he wasn’t even sure she had done it before. He half expected her to call out their safe word, to say ‘opium’ and have him stop it all. He halted, giving her the chance do so, even as he desired nothing more than to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress. He had the strength for it, he could overpower her easily anytime, but his limbs didn’t obey. It felt forbidden, even with her permission.

She chuckled devilishly as if his grip on her hair didn’t cause her any pain even when she did so. “That’s it, big boy? Where did all that fury of yours go?” She was egging him on again. And for a moment, he was able to picture it in his mind. The large, burning imprint of his hand on her ass, the smudged mascara underneath her eyes as he made her choke on his cock. “Cat got your tongue and your brain?”

That did it. “Shut up,” Tom ordered at the same time as he pulled her off the wall, steering her to the bed with his grip on her head before forcefully throwing her down on the mattress face first. Spotting the zipper running along the back of elegant silk dress, he gave the garment a chance but ended up ripping it open at the seams when it got stuck. His patience was running out. “Scoot over. I want you right in the centre.”

She did as he asked without a single word. Moving to the middle of the mattress, she left behind her torn dress and lied down on her back, showing off her lingerie. It was black and lacy, and intricate. He wanted to destroy it the same way you felt driven to pluck the prettiest flower. She propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her legs and showing him her pretty little cunt through the crotchless panties as Tom took his time taking off his clothes at the end of the bed.

“You’re such a wanton vixen,” he told her. His fear that he was perhaps taking it too far was stilled when he watched her fingers graze over her clit. “Don’t touch what’s mine.” She obeyed, though she sported a Cheshire cat grin. It would be gone soon.

Tom crawled his way over her body, his broader shoulders caging her in, a growl escaping his throat as his pulsing cock slid along the warm skin of her thigh, leaving behind a trail of precum. He brought his face to hers and she parted her lips, expecting a kiss. He bit down on her neck instead, not strongly enough to draw blood but enough for it to sting. And sting it did, her back arching up like a tense bow.

Freeing one hand, he opened the front of her bra with no struggle. The lace fell apart, revealing her ample breasts to his eyes. Tom inhaled sharply at the sight of her pebbled nipples before sliding lower and seizing one between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive nub mercilessly. Her lips canted up against his as she moaned, head thrown back against the pillow. She was enjoying it, her hand clutching his curls firmly, but not pulling him off. In fact, he decided, she was enjoying this way too much.

Tom let go of her breast, grinning at the offended look she shot him. She wasn’t used to being denied her pleasure. A bit hypocritical, he sniggered. He was determined to make her regret all those times she had tied him to the headboard, the hours she had spent teasing him, edging him, leaving him wanting, the bloody cock cage she had made him wear for a week after disobeying her. “As much as I love your pretty face, I have other plans for you tonight.” He groaned, and then without giving her time for the words to sink in, he spun her around on her belly.

She tried raising herself up on her elbows, but Tom didn’t let her, applying enough pressure between her shoulder blades to get the message across. Still, somehow, she managed to turn her head sideways, mouth parted as she struggled for air. “You’ll pay for this, darling,” she promised all too confidently but didn’t utter the safe word. He spanked her ass.

“Let us first see if you’re still able to do anything after this,” Tom teased as he forced his knees between her legs, prying them open and putting her tempting cunt on display. She smelled ripe.

Holding himself up on one hand next to her head, he moved to cover her body with his, casting a shadow all around her frame. With his free hand, Tom gripped his cock. He was still hard. Not that it was a surprise: when was he ever not hard in her presence?

Tom stroked his iron shaft twice before moving his long fingers to her core. Her probed at her warm, delicate folds. She was wet, though not soaked the way she only got after he’d spent ages worshipping her pussy. He guided himself to her entrance, making her feel his glans pressing against her opening.

This would hurt sweetly without more foreplay – she was a small, little thing and him the opposite. And yet, she didn’t even flinch, her eyes didn’t waver, quite the contrary. She was daring him to do it, looking back at him over her shoulder with curled lips. Tom had never been allowed inside her without her explicit permission – often after pitiful begging on his part. Gauging her reaction, he pointed his cock at her tiny puckered hole instead. Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply, preparing herself for the painful intrusion. Still no safe word. She was tough to crack, Tom realised, not unimpressed before aligning himself with her pussy again. He didn’t dare take her last virgin hole with no preparation, desecrate his mistress like that.

His arm shook as he held up his weight. One thrust, that’s all it would take. He’d fuck her the way he had imagined himself doing countless times before, when his love for her blurred at the border between hatred and love, enmity and devotion, when she deemed his begging not sincere enough or made him plead even for an orgasm by his own hand like a dutiful puppet.

He wanted nothing more than to have his cock engulfed by her warmth. His cock begged him for it. She was waiting for him to thrust in, propping up her ass invitingly, the slope of her back acute. She was beautiful, face up or face down. She was everything Tom had ever desired in a woman. And yet, to him, she looked wrong in this position. He groaned in frustration, sweaty curls clinging to his forehead as his arm kept shaking. This was not how she was meant to be taken, to be pleasured. Just like you wouldn’t drink champagne from a dirty, plastic goblet, Tom couldn’t bring himself to fuck her like this, like an animal.

Letting out the most frustrated of growls, he seized her shoulder, turning her around without a warning before letting himself fall down on the mattress next to her. “I can’t do it,” he confessed, voice cracking.

Tom saw in the way her lips suddenly smirked and her eyes twinkled, finally understanding why she had never seemed apprehensive. His mistress had known all along he wouldn't be able to go through with it, even if he himself thought he could. She had called him on his bluff and won.

"Of course, you could not do it, darling," she cooed, sitting up next to him. "Do you want to know why?" Her fingers traced the line of his jaw almost condescendingly.

Tom swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he stared up at her. His previous boldness had left without leaving a trace. "Please, mistress."

She smiled again even as she slid a leg over his chest, enclosing him between the warmth of her thighs. And then, leaning down, she whispered into his ear as if sharing a great secret. "Because, my sweet boy, it’s not in your nature to take by force. You want to please me and earn what I give to you.” She murmured seductively. “Am I wrong?"

Tom shook his head almost at once, the need to please her surging in him at her words. She was never wrong, not when it came to him. And when she moved up to sit on his face, all he could do was mouth a breathless thank you for being allowed to touch her even after his misbehaving before his need to be her good boy drove him to her cunt.

She kept one hand wrapped tightly in his curls, the other one holding onto to the headboard to keep steady. Her sweet Tom was indeed very talented with his tongue, she barely had to guide him at all but that still didn't mean she'd let go of her tight grip anytime soon. "Such a good boy," she praised him, more breathless than she liked to admit. "Licking your mistress's cunt so well." Tom whimpered against her clit; praise always got him needy and she enjoyed his desperate sounds almost as much as she did his tongue.

Close to orgasm, she decided to reward him for his eager work. Her hand left the headboard, searching for his to place it on her breast. She moved her eyes, finding that his hand was no longer clutching the bed sheets in desperate need like it had been seconds ago.

Craning her neck backwards to look over shoulders even as the first pleasures started sparkling and erupting from her clit, she spotted his hand snaking along his side to his weeping cock which had already formed a small, sticky puddle on his navel.

She managed to seize his disobedient hand just before she came, twisting and squeezing it painfully in her fist even as she rocked against his face through the waves of her orgasm, with no regard to his breathing.

With one last deep breath even as Tom still lapped at her juices, she moved away from his mouth and went to straddle his chest, covering him in her slick. He was panting, eyes closed with a furrow between his brows even as she felt him thrust up his hips into thin air, seeking an inexistent friction. What a sweet, needy boy, too bad he couldn't control himself.

Before she could even say anything, Tom apologised the moment his eyes blinked open. "I'm sorry, mistress," he exhaled.

She rubbed his bruising knuckles with her thumb, etching a look of concern on her face and she saw the way his expression visibly relax at her soft smile. God, she loved toying with him, especially when he misbehaved. "You'll make up for your disobedience with your big cock, won't you, darling?" She cooed.

The thought of finally sinking his cock inside had him nodding eagerly at her, sweaty curls bouncing like a halo around his angelic face. "Yes, mistress. Anything you want."

Oh, she wanted this alright, she mused as she reached out her hand to gently cup his cheek, a smile ghosting on her lips. She scooted over, moving backwards to straddle his hips. His cock was the prettiest shade of pink and the hardest kind of iron.

With a finger she lightly traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft, noticing how he moaned even as he fought the urge to rock up against her touch. It was adorable, the way he was trying to be good now that she’d chastised him. She decided not to tell him it was too late for any of that now.

Instead, she slid her wet cunt along his shaft, the frown of desperate concentration on his eyes more than making up for the slight discomfort on her sensitive folds. How long since she had last let him cum, she wondered, knowing this was going to be torture for him. The loud gasp that escaped his throat when she wrapped her hand firmly around the base of his cock only served as further proof.

Tom's eyes were bright and wide, unable to focus on a particular image as his mistress lowered herself on his desperate cock; the sight of himself disappearing inside her tight channel, the bouncing of her breasts as she moved languorously and languidly, or perhaps, those five seconds of deep intake of air during which her eyes closed and her face lost that regal composure of hers before she got used to the stretch.

"How does that feel, darling?" She asked him with the smile of someone who already knew the answer, in rhythm with her riding of him. She never moved with short, clear-cut thrusts, her hips smoothly undulating instead in a way that had him helpless and feeling the tightening in his gut surging way too soon.

"Very good, mistress," he managed to reply though it came out strangled, his muscles have begun tensing and his fingers itching to touch his mistress. Tom knew better this time.

She seemed satisfied with his response, picking up a faster pace above him. Watching Tom's face contort with bliss brought her just as much pleasure as the rutting of his cock. Tendons straining against his throat, eyes tightly shut and anguished whimpers escaping his parted lips. She anticipated his pleas the moment Tom opened his eyes like a wild animal blinded by the lights. "I need to cum. Please, mistress," he begged, knuckles turning white around the crumpled bedsheets. "Please let me cum."

Her hand moved to his throat, finger pads digging softly into his skin for balance. He loved her hand there, it was a reassurance and a threat all at once and he keened under her touch. She shook her head softly. "No."

The single word startled him as much as her increased pace. He was too close, he wouldn't be able to- "Please, mistress," Tom whined and blabbered, tears welling at the corners of his eyes before running down his sharp cheeks as he fought his release until his muscles trembled.

Still, she took no mercy, shushing him with a finger on his lips. As her orgasm crept closer at a dizzying pace, the look of focus and torment on his sweet, angelic face became almost too much to bear. He was trying so hard to be her good boy, it was beyond adorable.

So, when she tightened around him like a vice as bliss took over her mind and Tom let out the loudest strangled moan, she knew he was bound to fail her command no matter his determination and finally took pity on his anguish. "Cum for me, darling."

Tom tried to thank her for the privilege of filling her with his cum but his control burst at her permission before he was able to say anything intelligible. Instead, he cried out as he came in her, spurt after spurt.

Still coming down from her own high, she climbed off of Tom and then sat down next to him, moving his head to rest on her thigh. She decided to reserve his punishment for tomorrow, noticing his need for aftercare. She'd learned to expect his vulnerability after an orgasm, his longing to be held tightly and true enough, he moved to his side and hugged her waist. "You're okay, darling?" She asked, or rather, cooed.

Tom nuzzled into her thigh, a soft smile on his thin lips. "Yes, mistress, thank you," he mumbled against her skin and then she heard the slight shift in his voice. "I am sorry, for earlier..."

She smiled down at him, brushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead. "I know, sweetie."

It was a struggle then to get him out of bed and into the bathroom, with him holding on to her for dear life. But a small order from her and Tom complied, following her into the shower where she had him kneeling on the floor before her with his face pressed to her sternum as she washed his hair. Her sweet boy wouldn’t like what tomorrow held for him.

#tom hiddleston smut #sub!tom #tom hiddleston x reader

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