#pose is from the video linked in the end notes of the fic

[candyriku]

I just posted my incredibly self-indulgent retired ballerina Soriku AU oneshot over on Ao3, so I drew this to celebrate! :)

Title: Pas De Deux

Rating: G

Words: 2,178

Chapters: 1/1

[goodfish-bowl]

Beloved by Death

Danny Phantom x Katekyo Hitman Reborn Crossover

Masterpost

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 6 - Runaway

Summary: Danny runs away, and somewhere in Canada, ends up joining a circus to get himself fully out of the reach of the GIW. Aka, a "Danny is Skull" fic, because I have never seen this khr crossover trope applied to DP before.

Notes: To my DP people unfamiliar with khr, I've tried to make this understandable without having knowledge of khr, but should I have to, I will include anything essential to know in the beginning chapter notes on AO3. Danny's also trying to figure it out too.

Word Count: 2368

AO3 Link

The feeling of weightlessness drowned out anything else Danny could’ve experienced at the moment. It welcomed him, and his core sang with joy as he soared, a moment of reprieve before gravity reasserted its control over him, and the half-ton machine under him. He gave it throttle and his bike roared, tires spinning freely in the air. Danny joined it in a battle cry of his own as he crested the peak of the jump. The crowd gave a roar of their own. It turned to white noise in his ears as he pushed off the foot pegs, letting himself tumble backward in a flip through the air, not once, but twice, inches away from the bike that had brought him there.

For his hard-won, half-second of glory, Danny allowed gravity to snatch him and his bike in its vice grip once more, hurtling him back toward the earth. Danny used a foot to catch the handlebars (a near miss, it always was, caught only by the toe of his boots) then easily slipped back into his seat, catching and steadying the machine with his legs first, then enforcing an iron grip on the handles just in time for the collision into the dirt ramp. The impact shot through the spokes and traveled up his arms and knees, pushing him further into the seat, before momentum shoved him forward and down the ramp. 

With practiced ease, he pulled in the clutch and dropped the bike back down several gears until the speed of the jump faded from his head and veins as he made his lap around the track in second. The noise in the peak of the jump had been near-silent compared to the thunder of the audience as he let his heart slow and breathing even back out from the adrenaline of the jump. It once again turned to white noise in his ears as it always did, and satisfaction curled in his veins.

Danny had managed to do it once again, completely unassisted by the ‘cheats’ he held close to his chest. He knew his eyes would be alight from the adrenaline high under the visor of his helmet in glee. He didn’t snuff the sensation but rejoiced in it, his helmet was tinted for a purpose other than just the stadium lights. It was a job well done after all. 

Danny took a victory lap and listened as the crowd chanted his name, posed for cameras and video cameras as they caught his visage, tossing in some ground stunts to give the magazines and bloggers something good for their pages. He relished in the attention, just like he was supposed to. 

After another round of deep breaths, just enough to clear his head, Danny held a button on the outside of the helmet. Danny slipped into the stage act easily, the Aussie accent lining his Italian perfectly practiced, probably even more so than the stunt he had just pulled off. Every inflection and even the very pitch of his voice was part of the show. A tone echoed through his helmet, and with a signal disguised as another pose, the miked headset built into his helmet connected to the speaker system hooked up throughout the entire area. 

“HELLO, adoring fans of mine! I, the Great Skull, accept your warm welcome to the coasts of Italy! Thank you all for coming out to today's performance! WELL? Are you impressed?!” 

The crowd gave their roaring validation. Danny haughtily laughed along with their cheers. 

“Of course,” Danny continued, arrogance saturating in his tone, “You never should have expected anything less from I, the man hated by death, the immortal stuntman, Skull!”

Running away to join the circus had not been in Danny’s initial plan after crossing the Canadian border. Clockwork must’ve been screwing with him for everything to line up like this. But, even despite his hesitation, Danny couldn’t let an opportunity to get out of the country slip out of his hands like that. With the GIW on his tail, likely caught up arguing with Canadian border control and the politics of sending an aggressive, very noticeable, government agency across country lines, Danny would likely be able to hitch a ride out of the country with the circus before the GIW could figure out where he went.  

Luckily for him, the circus was advertising an open position for a stunt rider, just someone to ride around the ring and do a couple of tricks for the opener, nothing too fancy. Pay, room, and board were provided, and the applicant was expected to travel with the circus and continue performing along the way. 

Danny’s only doubt was actually doing the stunts. His only experience on a motorcycle had been from Johnny and he wasn’t sure how valid that was, considering Johnny had both been messing with the bike during their lesson, distracting him while Kitty stole a bunch of stuff. Danny had never been on a non-ghostly motorcycle before, but he had a scooter for a while, and he knew how to drive the GAV, the Specter Speeder, and the OPs center. Danny probably had built up a couple hundred hours in that spaceship flight simulator. He could figure it out. If not, Danny could always fudge it with his ghost powers. The GIW wouldn’t be able to get him for at least a week more, even if they did pick up his ecto-signature. 

Danny spent the entire application process nervous that his fake documents would be discovered, only to have them barely glanced at other than making sure his passport wasn’t expired. The “interviewer”, an older woman with the remains of grease paint smeared on the edge of her jaw, eye bags that rivaled Danny’s own, and a cigarette hanging from the corner of her lip barely looked up at him. 

“Okay, kid,” the woman started, actually looking up at him, jutting her thumb at the mess of a dirt bike behind her. “Hop on, do something cool, and don’t eat shit, and the position’s good as yours.”

Danny didn’t like the look of that machine, and he was used to the prone-to-explode technology of his parents. It was covered in dents, and the plastic pieces looked like they had lost a fight with a weed wacker. But the engine looked… mostly intact. They even gave him a helmet to wear. There was a small track set up around the parking lot where the interview was being held. He should be fine. 

Danny went over to the bike while buckling the ill-fitted helmet, checking it out more closely, turning on the gas, and making sure it was ready to ride before pulling out the kickstart and swinging his leg over, trying to remember everything Johnny had taught him about motorcycles in the past, even if this was a different kind of bike. Taking a deep breath, Danny slammed his leg down on the kickstart and the engine thankfully revved to life without issue. He took a moment, revving the bike for a bit in neutral, just to warm it up, before putting up the kickstand, and shifting down into first gear and going. 

It was… surprisingly easier than with Johnny, and Danny supposed it should be since he didn’t have every inconvenience happening to him at the same time. Danny sped up, up-shifting into second, then third gear, getting a feel for the clutch on the bike. Using a straight stretch of the track, he did a small wheelie, turning sharply in the turn, much tighter in a loop before finishing the turn. He weaved through some cones, only having to use his flight to catch himself from falling just once, refusing to put his feet on the ground. Picking up speed once again, Danny used the small ramp to make a jump, using a bit more of his flight to keep the bike stable while landing. He did another lap, trying to figure out what other motorcycle tricks he could try when the bike underneath him groaned. A harsh grinding noise caught Danny’s attention before the wheels locked up beneath him.

Danny let out a yelp as he was tossed over the bars, and flung clear off the bike. He twisted, instinct after being tossed around so many times through the air, to land on his feet, using more flight than he’d like to accomplish the feet, hoping that it hadn’t appeared too gravity-defying. Danny winced as the bike crashed to the ground, cringing in on himself and looking over at his interviewer. 

The older woman along with a few people who had apparently shown up to spectate, were staring at Danny with wide eyes. Danny blinked. 

“I didn’t eat shit.”

The older woman gave a deep, heavy sigh, while the crowd gave a polite applause, causing Danny to sheepishly smile.  

“You didn’t eat shit,” the woman echoed, giving his papers a second look. “Well, kid, welcome to the circus.”

Danny gave a low groan, quiet enough that it was unable to escape his helmet now that the comm system had been shut down. He rubbed at his throat, still stinging from the volume, and longed to do the same to his ears, but alas, helmet. The volume always had his ears ringing, even through the specially crafted earplugs he had made. It took a lot of effort to be that loud for the entire performance. Hopefully, the hired hands had left him a cup of something warm and heavily caffeinated in his trailer like he requested. Some warm tea would’ve been nice for his throat, but he still had a meet and greet to get through and an act to maintain. Coffee it had to be. 

Danny pulled open the door to his private trailer, fingers already hooked already around the quick-release latch of his helmet, when he found himself staring at someone who was objectively not supposed to be in his trailer. They were also not one of the circus clowns he was familiar with. He was dressed strangely, in checkers with a metal mask and matching hat on his head. He was lounging in one of the cushy armchairs Danny had. It took nearly everything he had not to immediately go for the throat. 

Danny bristled at the man’s sheer presence, unsettling him deeply. Something bubbled up, not his ghost sense, but a sense of danger all the same, along with a tugging sensation far too close to his core to be okay. Danny felt his eyes flare behind his helmet, immediately pinning down the urge to hiss at the intruder and forcing himself to calm down. Danny couldn’t tell what this man was, but he wasn’t a ghost. He had spent enough time being super cautious, borderline paranoid, about outing himself as one over the years. He didn’t want to toss all that effort out the window now. But there was still an unknown part of him being tugged at by the man before him. Danny had to be cautious and avoid a fight or exposing himself at all costs.  

Danny let his hands fall from his helmet and onto his hips, facade sliding back into place. Damn, just when he had gotten so close to a break. At least he still had the earplugs in. 

“Well, isn’t this a surprise?! While I, the Great Skull, appreciate meeting my fans, it’s usually reserved for the meet and greets! But if you couldn’t resist coming here to meet me as soon as you possibly could, that is also understandable!” Danny exclaimed, hiding an internal wince at the volume to his already worn ears and throat. 

The man in the metal hat rose from his seat, a smirk on his face, amused but rather indifferent overall. Danny’s hackles raised, but he refused to give a visible reaction. It would ruin the act after all, and this stranger was putting on one of his own. 

“Well, I certainly am a fan. You’re the greatest stuntman, after all, how could I not be impressed,” the stranger acknowledged.

“Of course, of course! I have fans in every corner of the globe, and I intend to share my greatness with every one of them!” Danny falsely preened, “Still, I must ask you to wait with the rest of the adorning crowds to make my acquaintance! It’s a bit rude to intrude upon the Great Skull’s personal space, don’cha think?”  

Metal Hat gave a wide smile, as if finding what he was looking for. “Of course! My apologies, I just intended to hand off an invitation, for your eyes only.” 

A letter seemed to manifest from thin air, pulled from nothingness as the stranger reached out to give an ornate, off-white envelope to Danny. He could see the edges tinted by what looked to be an indigo flame. They were gone the next time Danny blinked, but burned into his memory and the envelope was still there. 

Danny snatched the envelope, holding it up to his helmet’s visor to get a better look at it, but not taking his eyes off the stranger.   

“I will consider your invitation! A party is absolutely needed to celebrate today’s grand accomplishment!” Danny didn't want to go. He wanted a nap.

“It will certainly be one for the ages…” Metal Hat hummed in amusement. It grated on Danny’s nerves. He was being led into something, wasn’t he? 

“Then of course the Great Skull must attend or it would not be nearly as grand!”

“Then I look forward to your attendance.” 

The stranger gave a tip of his ridiculous(ly) heavy hat, before letting himself saunter past Danny, and out the trailer’s only door. So close, he could see the indigo flames clinging to the man, biting at the something near his core, rubbing him the wrong way. Danny let himself bare his teeth under his helmet just to satisfy the urge. The door clicked shut. 

Danny gave it a moment, no more than a second, before he kicked the door back open, letting it echo across the open space he’d been allotted, only to find no one there, and his door thoroughly removed from its hinges. 

The whole place reeked of indigo. 

No way in the infinite realms was he going to that party.

[polskasroka]

Distraction | Chapter 3

Here's chapter 3 of my Mel/Od fic, hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Melinoë/Odysseus

Tags: Older Man/Younger Woman, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Pining, Romance, Eventual Romance, Self-Doubt, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Spoilers, Written During Hades II (Supergiant Video Game) Early Access, Character Study, mel is a tough gal overall, but she has her weaker moments, Denial of Feelings, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Kissing

AO3 link

Or Chapter 3 (4600 words) under Read More

During this attempt, Melinoë feels extraordinarily light and filled with the sense of self-fulfilment and a quiet murmur of yearning for something more to happen rather sooner than later. Once she’s tasted something that used to seem distant and redundant, it is now more than appealing and desirable, required to rest and lift some weight off of the Goddess’ shoulders.

The refreshment follows Melinoë wherever she steps and even the heavy air of Oceanus can’t spoil it. Similarly, the miasmas in the Fields of Mourning can only try to cover the raised spirits of the Princess. What is more, all the blessings that Melinoë’s gathered so far have also proved highly useful, so she has high hopes for the outcome of the upcoming clash with Chronos.

Only when she encounters Nemesis does her determination falter the tiniest bit. But Melinoë doesn’t give up and takes the challenge that Retribution has posed towards her and does her best to slay more enemies than Nemesis. Yet, despite blood, sweat and tears, it is yet another time that sees Melinoë fail and give the Chthonic Goddess a hundred coins.

“You get to Chronos but you can’t make it when you fight against me. I’d ask how but I have a feeling that I know the answer,” Nemesis says in her usual monotonous but acid-laced tone.

“For some reason, I always lose to you. I don’t think that there’s anything more to that,” Melinoë states simply, shrugging. When she senses that a verbal blow is coming, she folds her arms and scowls at Nemesis.

“May I enlighten you then. Perhaps if you weren’t busy courting some particular inhabitants of the Crossroads, you wouldn’t be so distracted. Don’t you find it wise to tell Hecate how some shades tend to draw your attention away from your task?”

“Nem, I have no idea why you’re bringing such things up.” Melinoë sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Am I not allowed to spend time with those who I deem close and dear to me?”

“Unless it ails the cause,” Nemesis growls with finality.

“It doesn’t. The fact that I’ve reached the Fields is enough evidence for that.”

“But you still won’t end the Titan for good.”

“I have no power over–”

“Start with yourself. Regain control over yourself, Princess. Or ask Hecate to aid you. Or don’t waste your time on mortals.”

“Dora and Odysseus are my friends, Nem. But you wouldn’t know, would you?” Melinoë asks, some leftover hope in her voice.

“I wouldn’t. And you know I’m not talking about Dora here,” Nemesis gnarls and narrows her eyes at Melinoë who shakes her head in disbelief and… pity. Retribution will have none of that, so she announces, “I’m off. You should too. Don’t want me getting to Chronos before you do. Someone could turn out to be more efficient than the Princess of the Underworld.”

Melinoë makes a mental note to cut Nemesis down to size next time they meet outside of the Crossroads.

“How does it happen, Lord Moros?”

“How does what happen, Princess?”

“How do you… know that someone’s going to die any second from what they’re engaged in doing?” Melinoë asks out of sheer curiosity after she almost won the fight with Eris. She was so close to the success but Doom’s merciless countdown forced her to return to shadow.

“I… You could say that I possess a very short-sighted vision of the nearest future. Whether you carry my pin or not, Princess, doesn’t affect this ability. My nature allows me to sense the impending death of a mortal… or a goddess, in your case,” he replies calmly, seemingly content that he can explain it to someone who’s interested in what he’s saying.

“It sounds similar to me sensing the nightmares that others have. They draw me in almost every time.”

“So do someone’s final moments to me.”

They exchange polite smiles after that and Melinoë can feel a light fluttering of her heart. Lord Moros does have that something about himself that Melinoë can’t just ignore and take with a stone face.

“I used to wonder how come that you’re entertained by accompanying someone at the time of their sudden death but now that I think about it, I am no better than you, Lord Moros,” Melinoë observes, piquing Doom’s interest once more.

“Why so, Princess?”

“I can’t say I don’t feel entertained, for lack of a better word, after I’ve… participated in someone’s nightmare. Besides, I reckon you yourself have seen how bringing others a nightmare can energise me before I venture out into the woods.”

“It was a sight to behold, indeed.” Moros nods to strengthen his statement and then continues, “I don’t think I’d ever seen you so full of life before that day. Truly amazing and admirable.”

“Flattery’s becoming one of your stronger suits, my Lord,” Melinoë quips, placing her hands on her hips and putting her weight onto one leg. “Using me for practice, are you?”

“Princess, I would never dare to do so. I mean each and every word I say. I apologise if I’ve ever made you think the opposite, since that has never been my intention and never will be one.”

“No need to apologise. I just… appreciate your kindness, is all.” Melinoë smiles slightly and rubs her arm, averting Moros’ gaze for a second.

“It’s well-deserved.”

Melinoë’s cheeks do grow pink because of this exchange. She knows that she kissed Odysseus the other night but she’s a goddess and gods and goddesses are prone to having more than one lover, right? Maybe not all of them are like that but Melinoë’s not harming anyone and she decides that both Moros and Odysseus must know how it is. Or at least Od does, even though he’s no god.

She’s been thinking about rejecting Doom Incarnate’s attempts at making advances to her but she can’t will herself to. Melinoë is too smitten with him to let it go this simply and chase one man with whom she’s also only kissed once. Since Melinoë has now opened the doors to such various possibilities, she’s not going to close them. She’s going to wait and let it all brew and maybe everyone will come unscathed out of this.

In fact, she has let go and closed the door in her life once. Back when Icarus was still around and they were getting on perfectly well, she knew there was something between them. But both of them were too awkward about it to admit their adolescent feelings to the other and instead went for various acts of commitment and engaged in physical affection, skipping the talking about it.

But they were young and Melinoë thinks they should be forgiven. The price that she’s paid for that should also prove enough. She lost her hand while trying to make Icarus whole again but not only did she lose that limb and have to have it brought back by Hecate but she also lost Icarus. He left and although they now meet once in a while on the Surface, it doesn’t really seem like they’ll be getting back together soon.

Still, Melinoë is aware that she’s never forgotten about the boy-shade, as Hecate likes to call him, and she’ll always have room in her heart ready for him if he ever wishes to return there.

“Princess?” Moros’ voice pulls her out of her reverie.

“Um, yeah? Sorry, I drifted away for a second there,” Melinoë chuckles a bit nervously.

“It’s alright. Since I’ve gathered that it’s polite to ask about it… How have you been recently?”

That is so casual that it almost startles Melinoë.

“Oh, I, um… Quite fine, I’d say. I’ve become better at chasing off bad dreams after Hecate taught me a spell or two. Thank you.”

“Does that mean you don’t have to bring nightmares to others to feel better now?”

“Not exactly, my Lord. If I give somebody one, it provides me with a different kind of energy. It drains me, yes, but there is a certain power to it that I can’t properly explain. Something we all probably experience when working with what we excel at. How have you been?”

“Well. My nightmares seem to have ceased as well. Do you think it’s due to you sleeping more peacefully these days?” Moros wonders, a soft smile gracing his lips as he’s gazing at the Princess.

“I’d suppose so. I can still change that if you so desire, Lord Moros.”

“You will always be welcome in my dreams, Princess. No matter how terrible they may appear. Trust me, I have seen quite a couple of atrocities myself already.”

“That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, Princess.”

Light-hearted though their conversation may have been, Melinoë still comes out of it with a racing heart. She’s hoping that Moros is feeling the same way – after all, any glance or a shy and small chuckle didn’t go unnoticed by her. If her predictions are right, Doom may be as smitten with her as she is with him. And it’s innocent, in its own way. It reminds her of her and Icarus’ infatuation. That’s probably why she fancies the talks with Moros so much.

But, on the other hand, it’s developing slowly. And, considering their foe, they might not have all the time in the world to prolong the waiting and courting.

This is when Melinoë reminds herself about Hecate’s words. About how she told her that she’d been using her all this time and maybe Melinoë has learnt something from her, whether the Headmistress has been really using her and her powers or not.

Melinoë used Odysseus and his greatest weakness that one evening. She did it for her own fun and well-being and now she’s using Moros because she finds she’s enjoying the process of falling in love with someone in a gradual way, without rushing anything. Add to that the renewing relationship with Icarus up on the Surface and you could say that Melinoë’s greedy.

And she could be. And maybe she should be. Doesn’t having several irons in the fire run in her blood?

Another runs and nights bring mixed effects but with a tendency that may forebode some success in the future. It obviously raises spirits in the Crossroads, perhaps with the exception of Nemesis who is still an enigma when it comes to her being satisfied with Melinoë’s progress. The Princess has talked to her about it many a time and while one evening some admiration can be heard in her words, the other she is berating Melinoë once again.

Melinoë doesn’t like it (because who would?) but what can she do? Go and tell Hecate about it? She’s not a child anymore and she’s grown used to Nemesis’ digs. She’s turned them into a sort of white noise into which she tunes only when the Chthonic Goddess has something relevant to say.

Melinoë has treated herself today – she brought a nightmare upon Moros to cheer herself up and sit back after the last gruelling ventures into the Underworld. Thus, she woke up refreshed and ready to do the same thing over and over again, until she knocked herself out after yet another victory over Chronos.

She’s become confident in that matter, hasn’t she?

Frankly, Melinoë didn’t bring the nightmare onto Moros per se; she only intensified it. She bore into the depths of his mind, seeking any fears that he could have only to take advantage of them for her own benefit.

Melinoë wasn’t surprised when Moros’ first fears that she came across included her being in grave danger. Becoming so aware of it all as she did felt personal and nearly too much but she prevailed and enhanced the visions of her failure, of her being stopped in time and buried under layers and layers of Chronos’ sand. The images caused her unease and nausea but she pushed the visions further and further until Moros woke up with a horrified gasp and sweat beading on his temples.

Then, she simply returned to shadow and sweet unconsciousness.

But the gleeful atmosphere that surrounds Melinoë because of Moros’ nightmare catches everyone’s attention. While Moros is nowhere to be found for now, Nemesis scoffs at the sight of the Princess being in such a good mood. She knows what Melinoë has been up to all night and she can’t believe that she’s still behaving like a child in a candy store while nightmares and madness are precisely her role and nature.

Eris hasn’t been sticking about lately and it’s nothing unusual that she’s absent again. Melinoë doesn’t mind.

It’s a totally different story when it comes to Odysseus. Once he hears Melinoë approach, he turns around and great contentment is beaming from him, although it’s also well-hidden behind a kind smile. The sight leaves Melinoë breathless for a split second and she’s already walking over to him in a gait that’s full of life when she hears Hecate call her name from behind her. Only then does Melinoë notice that Hecate’s usual spot near the cauldron has been empty all this time.

Melinoë's doing her best to hide the disappointment that rises onto her face and which is evident to Odysseus. It even makes him chuckle under his breath and he comes back to his reports and maps when Melinoë spins around on her heel to join Hecate on the way to the training grounds.

“You’ve been making great progress lately, Melinoë. You’re making us all proud here,” Hecate says once they’re there, strolling around in each other’s company since the Commander is nowhere in sight – much to Hecate’s satisfaction (and perhaps due to her magic).

“Really? I often catch myself thinking that I could do better, Headmistress.”

“There’s always room for growth. But you have to remember to believe in yourself and your current abilities, for they haven’t come to you out of the grace of any gods. You have been mastering your skills all your life and now that you’re putting them to use – you can only hone them,” Hecate states in her usual steady tone.

“Am I honing them when I lose to Chronos?” Melinoë asks, doubts speaking through her.

“Oh, Melinoë, stop this,” Hecate warns but not in a threatening or angry way. “Sometimes you make me think that you say such words only to hear praise, which I know is not true. And while you shouldn’t allow yourself too much leeway when it comes to the Titan, you can’t claim that you haven’t learnt anything by losing to him.”

The Witch’s words are clever and Melinoë is fully aware of that. However, although she’s been told some things many a time, the Princess still happens to have issues with self-confidence. Even when it’s clear that her skills seem almost impeccable or as perfected as the ones possessed by the Titaness.

“Keep doing what you’re doing, Melinoë. As Selene would say, you’re the shooting star burning brightly, leading our way through the night to the inevitable end of this crisis.”

“Shooting stars burn out eventually,” Melinoë deadpans but Hecate’s disenchanted glance flusters her. “Sorry, Headmistress. I’ll stop now.”

“I’d rather you did. We would never win with Chronos if we all had such attitude.” Hecate pauses for a moment and, judging by the slight squint of her eyes, she’s thinking about something that Melinoë picks up on.

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk to me about, Headmistress? You seem like there is something on your mind still.”

“Observant as always. Learning from Odysseus, are you, Melinoë?” The Witch peeks at the Goddess. The tiniest smile flashes across Melinoë’s face that doesn’t escape Hecate’s notice.

“Maybe a little, Headmistress. No use comparing his abilities of the sort to mine, though.”

“And yet, you often manage to traverse, say, Erebus and reach me unharmed. That must require some kind of planning, must it not?”

“You’re right and… I may have taken more than just a little of Odysseus’ advice to heart.” The Princess nods, as if to confirm her words.

“Hm… Is it only his advice that you’ve taken to heart?”

Melinoë looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“I do try not to invade your privacy, or anyone else���s for that matter, but this forest belongs to me. We are one. And,” Hecate sighs, “I must admit that I have noticed how your bond with Odysseus has strengthened and the way in which your relationship with him has been developing recently.”

Something grips Melinoë from the inside and she briefly feels short of breath. But she recollects herself quickly enough to figure out what Hecate is implying.

“Nothing that’s been going on between me and Odysseus will ail our cause, Headmistress. I can assure you,” the Goddess swears as fiercely and convincingly as she can.

“Time shall verify that.”

“Do you not believe me?” Melinoë sounds more baffled than annoyed. “I… I don’t think I’ve ever given you any reason to… I…”

“Melinoë.” The Titaness stops and faces the Princess, laying her hands on Melinoë’s slender shoulders. “I know. If I didn’t trust you with your task, I would have sent Nemesis out there to vanquish Chronos a long time ago. But I am certain that you are the one made for this high goal of ours. What I want to tell you is that I want you to be cautious. Mortal men, they…” Hecate’s eyes indicate pity and embarrassment. “They are not always who they seem they are.”

“Gods aren’t any better, are they?”

“By no means,” the Witch sniggers lightly. “But you remember what happened when you attempted to help that boy-shade, Icarus. It did not end well. For either of you.”

Melinoë exhales heavily and Hecate feels her shoulders slouch under her palms. The Titaness squeezes reassuringly, her gaze tender, almost motherly. Something that brings a tear to Melinoë’s eye and causes her lip to quiver in a soft smile.

“I trust that your current bond with Odysseus won’t impact your growth in a negative way. It’s something that Nemesis doesn’t agree with me on, would you believe that?” A snigger and the atmosphere feels much lighter all of a sudden.

“Why am I not surprised?” Melinoë manages a small chuckle herself.

“But do not disregard your reason and intuition. Indulge the heart sensibly.”

“You have my word, Headmistress.”

“Good. Thank you for your time, Melinoë. Forgive me if I interrupted something.”

“No harm done. Thank you for your time as well. May moonlight guide you.”

“And may shadows conceal us.”

The two women bow to one another and when Hecate turns around to head out of the training grounds, she says something that has Melinoë startled and just a tiny bit embarrassed.

“Greet Lady Aphrodite from me next time she decides to visit our Hot Spring. And, please, ask her how she’s able to reach these regions.”

Melinoë does wonder when and if the Goddess of Love is going to pay her yet another visit. Apart from the desire to talk about the latest events – because no one else would understand the matters of the heart better than Aphrodite herself – Melinoë has also grown curious about how Aphrodite manages to appear in the Crossroads. It’s no wonder that Hecate knows, for she and the woods are one. But then again, the Titaness didn’t interrupt Melinoë and Aphrodite’s conversation in the springs when she had an opportunity to. If it was simply out of Hecate’s respect towards Melinoë’s privacy, then the Princess is highly grateful for that.

The Princess would also like to talk to Aphrodite once again – she catches herself thinking while choosing a keepsake to start her trip up to the Surface this time. Without further ado, Melinoë picks the Beautiful Mirror, hoping that she might get in touch with the Olympian Goddess rather sooner than later.

And this is precisely what happens.

“Back on the Surface with us, aren’t you, gorgeous? It’s much easier to get to you now that you’re much closer to us all! Also a little birdie told me that my advice for you hadn’t gone in vain and I bet that you’ve chosen this small gift from me to let me know about that! That’s so sweet of you, love, and I’ll make sure to pay you a visit as soon as I can!” the Goddess announces in her syrupy-sweet and cheerful voice.

“I’d really appreciate that, my Lady…” whispers Melinoë with a shy smile on her face.

She’s slightly embarrassed not because of what she wants to talk with Aphrodite about. She’s slightly embarrassed because she knows how much more flustered she’s going to be once the Goddess of Love joins her in the springs again. Melinoë finds it silly as she makes up her mind about which boon from Aphrodite to take. She also swears that she’s heard that lovely laughter somewhere near but there’s no one around her.

Heavy is the heart that carries so much infatuation with so many different people.

It’s also something that Aphrodite picks up on when she materialises in the Crossroads’ Hot Spring, waiting for Melinoë to join her, even though the Princess doesn’t yet know who is anticipating her there. She has, in fact, just come back from today’s ventures upward and downward, with all of them being successful. Melinoë’s proud of herself but she doesn’t really boast about it because at this time of the day, the Crossroads is more empty than buzzing. Everyone’s off to tending to their own duties and whatnot, while Melinoë’s done with them for now.

Thus, the Goddess of Nightmares gasps, astonished, at the sight of Aphrodite herself hanging out in the bath.

“Oh, gorgeous, I didn’t mean to scare you!” Aphrodite provides immediately, her tone kind and apologetic.

“Not a problem, my Lady,” Melinoë exhales, holding her hand on her heaving chest for a moment. “Welcome to the Crossroads. I’m glad you’ve taken a shine to this humble safe haven of ours.”

“In comparison to Olympus, it surely is humble,” Aphrodite states, nonchalantly observing Melinoë getting undressed. “However, these springs of yours, oh! They’re divine! I wonder who the original creator of them was.”

“Good question.” Melinoë enters the bath and submerges her slim but toned body in the hot water. “I’ve brought them back, you know. I can see now that it was one of the best ideas I’ve had,” she sniggers just a bit.

“Oh, definitely, my dear!”

“I, um… I also hope that I didn’t startle you when I arrived here, my Lady… or kept you waiting for too long, for that matter,” Melinoë changes the subject and she’s aware of how awkward a moment she’s chosen for that.

“None of that, gorgeous. You should forgive me for emerging here, out of nowhere. I’ll arrange some foam next time!” Aphrodite flashes the sweetest grin in existence that has Melinoë melt in her seat. “But, on the other hand, I’m the best heart-advisor you could have!”

“Yeah, speaking of that…”

“Before we start, let me tell you something,” Aphrodite lowers her voice, which piques Melinoë’s attention. “Do you want to know how I, out of everyone else, am able to find the Crossroads? If you say you’re not curious about it, I won’t believe you.”

“Lady Aphrodite, of course, I am,” Melinoë admits and they both laugh. This went smoother than expected, for Melinoë didn’t even have to ask.

“The others, they prefer to follow that what’s visible. And the paths of the heart are all but visible! They don’t sense what I sense or hear what I hear when your heart starts racing for someone you find dear, attractive or both. This is what leads my way. The little songs of your heart.”

Aphrodite’s voice is so smooth and genuine that Melinoë feels dizzy for a moment or two and spares a second to get herself together and focus on what the Goddess has just said. She blushes at her own giddiness. Aphrodite finds it alluring.

“Save that pretty pink for someone else, dearest! You’ve got a couple of admirers to choose from, don’t you, hm?”

“I guess so. And I think I admire all of them as well.”

“There’s a ‘but’ there,” Aphrodite claims and she smiles when she knows she’s right.

“As always,” Melinoë sighs.

“Spit it out, gorgeous.”

“But there’s someone who makes my heart flutter more than the others. Just as you pointed out some time ago, my Lady.”

“And it’s not Lord Moros, is it now?”

“No.” Melinoë shakes her head slightly. “And I wonder… What should I do? I’ve talked to Headmistress about it and she left it for me to decide. But she also asked me to be careful with… uh… with mortal men.” She clumsily adds, “and she sends you her regards!”

“I shall send her my regards then as well.” Aphrodite closes her eyes for a moment as she bows her head, as if the Titaness was there with them. “She was right to do so in both matters, love,” the Goddess continues normally. “It warms my heart, it truly does. But sometimes following your reason and your reason only may not be the way. Sometimes the heart has to take the lead. The reason will come and seize its power back later. Let some fun and risk in, especially in this terrible, terrible world that we are now living in. Bring some colour to it and to your own life.”

Melinoë clings to each and every word uttered by the other Goddess. She’s not sure whether she’s so attracted to Aphrodite that her insides are trembling at the might of her wisdom or it’s one of Aphrodite’s tricks to convince Melinoë to her statement. It doesn’t really matter as long as it’s working.

“So what you’re saying, Lady Aphrodite, is that I just… go and kiss Odysseus if that’s what I want to do?” Melinoë asks plainly, the cogs in her head working, while Aphrodite can barely suppress a snigger.

“That’s essentially it! You’re a smart little Goddess, just like your brother! But that’s a story for another day, won’t you agree?”

Melinoë nods.

“So!” Aphrodite claps her hands together, splashing some water onto Melinoë with that gesture. “I guess it’s settled now, gorgeous. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you and for Odysseus! I must admit that I am not surprised by your attraction to him. It’s amazing that some mortals could nearly compete with us, gods, when it comes to the appearance!

“Oh, I could go on and on about that and the way it all looked back when everything was in its place together with the pieces of Chronos lying around various spots in the Underword but it’d take eons and no war would be won and no mortal men would be wooed – which is horrifying in itself. So, for now, you have my blessing and may you have a wonderful time with that handsome shade of yours!”

It all then happens so quickly. Melinoë doesn’t even manage to say goodbye in time, for Aphrodite steals a soft and sweet kiss to the Princess’ lips and then disappears from the springs. Melinoë lifts her hand to touch her lips and brush them with the tips ever so gently. It’s fascinating how Aphrodite’s touch has lingered there, making Melinoë miss it and crave the one she really wants at the same time. Oh, she is going to act upon it, alright. She hasn’t stored that bottle of ambrosia for naught after all.

[noybusiness]

Dark Matter Fanfic Prompts

@butfirst-wesavethegalaxy

@dark-matter-of-opinion

@darkmatterftl

@fyeahdarkmatter

These are the prompts I have for Dark Matter fanfics. The first one comes from a friend and the others are my own imaginings. If you use one of the prompts listed here, please come back and put a link to your fic in a note or reblog so that we can check it out. Please note that more than one person can do their own version of any of these prompts and in fact I encourage it; the more the merrier. If you think of a way to combine any of them, that's okay, too.

And of course, if you have prompts of your own you can post them in a note or reblog.

* The one that I'd most like to see realized comes from a user on Tumblr called RavenMcbainMonkeymouse who asked me to shop it around because she doesn't feel she can write conversations well (the working title she gave it was "Mind Games"). Instead of killing Jace Corso, the crew capture him and use One's neural imprint on him (either from when they took Transfer Transit in "Episode 8" or a later upload they discover in the ship's computer). Either replacing his own memories or giving him both sets. And what happens after that (identity issues!). I'd really like to see this realized.

* During their conversation in the hotel in "Welcome to Your New Home", One and/or Six either get a vision of what is going to happen or are snapped back in time to that moment. If One gets a vision that includes all of Seasons 2 and 3, then he should be impressed by Three's character development.

* Inspired by the fact that the crew weren't told which of them was the traitor in the Season 1 finale until shortly before that last scene was filmed, a series of AU vignettes where One (and/or Corso posing as One), Two, Three, Four, Five and the Android each turned out to be the traitor instead of Six. Could be from the perspective of the betrayed or the traitor.

* One of the crew wishes for One and Three to be polite to each other, which is magically granted with hilarious results such as being stuck because each insists on holding the door open for the other to go first.

* An AU where Marcus Boone's life is different because his parents were never killed.

* AU for the pilot where the Raza crew don't recover their last plotted destination (the mining colony) right away or find their Wanted Files in the ship's log, and thus are untethered in the galaxy with even less idea who they are than in canon.

* An accident or head trauma causes One to regress to Derrick Moss before his wife died and he infiltrated the Raza, so he has to learn about her death all over again and is understandably freaked out to be surrounded by infamous criminals and told he's part of their crew.

* When Two laid claim to Alternate Portia's jacket at the end of "Stuff to Steal, People to Kill", there was a spy fly on it that now secretly flies around the ship and relays audio and video of our crew's doings to the alternate crew (that's why Portia didn't put up much of a fuss about the jacket). Could be played for laughs.

* Something that incorporates the sentence "One and Five shrieked. Two and Four reached for their weapons. Three and Six did both."

* The Android throws the crew a surprise birthday party on the anniversary of their awakening. Half of them shouldn't even know their birthday birthdays anyway. Since it was her awakening, too, perhaps she'd even wipe her own memory of doing the planning after it was all set up, so that she could be surprised as well. Preferably in an AU where One wasn't killed off or he's head of CoreLactic again. This came to me because Alternate Wexler said in Season 3 that it had been a month since his counterpart died in Season 1, and Mallozzi confirmed that this is accurate and relatively little time passes between episodes, so it occurred to me that their birthday hadn't passed yet. (A user I gave this prompt to a while ago has used it in a fic on AO3, but as I said, the more the merrier.)

* What each of the crew's original selves was dreaming about at the moment that the amnesia hit them in stasis. This occurred to me because of a scene cut from "We Were Family" where the Android asked Four about when he first started dreaming, because people without memories to process can't dream. That and the pilot episode script saying we start by focusing in on One in his pod oblivious to his surroundings, and Five explaining in Season 3 that when someone is in stasis their digital consciousness is uploaded to keep their mind active, which is how she saved Sarah.

* The crew realize that Five (per another cut scene from "We Were Family") has a crush on Devon, and the guys mess with him by doing the inevitable big brother "if you ever hurt her" speech thing. Two eyerolls at them and acts like she's exasperated with their behavior.. but then turns around and makes the scariest threat yet.

* Two puts off an annoyingly helpful salesperson in a shop on a space station by pointing to One and Three across the shop and saying her friends are a married couple ("You can tell they're married by the way they argue.") shopping for their little girl and they could really use the salesperson's assistance much more than she could. One and Three are unable to get a word in edgewise return to the Raza laden with bags of little girl's clothing ("Don't. Ask.")

.

[harringtons-cupid]

My boyfriends with the band - Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

Modern Au:

➻ Spin off from this but it can be read as a stand alone fic.

➻ - Word count: 4K

➻ - Warnings: 18+ Lush toy, controlled climax, female masturbation. Male masturbation, video sex, group participation of sex, public masturbation. Daddy and Mommy kink, praise kink.

➻ - Tagged List: @oo0lady-mad0oo @fvk0fff @xbreezymeadowsx @gttrgrrl @faithsreades @captain-edgelord @gttrfics

[Feedback/reblogs are extremely meaningful. Please support your content creators]

| Masterlist | KO-FI

You had been without Eddie for a few months, it had been hard without physical and sexual contact but you made done with phone and video calls.

One day, you received a random package. Inside was a note, curiously you began to read it.

For my love

May our sex life never die

Eddie

You laughed at the note before ripping open the box in front of you, much to your surprise it was a sex toy. Gasping in shock, you quickly dialed Eddie’s number.

He answered almost instantly, his voice sending tingles through your body.

''So you received it?'' you could hear his smirk through the phone, laughing with him as you examined it.

He informed you of the instructions and when he thought you could use it, laughing in shock at his words. You were slightly excited to use it.

''It says I have to charge it up but we can try it out later if you would like?'' you posed the question to him, instantly getting a happy response.

You continued chatting for a few minutes more before he headed off to band practice and sound check. You were always sad when your calls ended, you treasured them but as you placed the toy on charge. Excitement bubbled inside you, the idea of connecting with Eddie whilst being miles apart intrigued you.

Busying yourself until you hear the alert of the Lush being fully charged, staring at you in your hands. You wondered if it would be able to fit inside you, you and Eddie had yet to test out the kinkier side of your sex life.

Deciding not to wait for Eddie, you undressed. Lying on your back with your legs spread apart, you began teasing yourself. Beginning with soft touches against your clit until you felt yourself become more excited, sliding your fingers down towards your opening you slid a finger inside you. It was cold and uncomfortable to begin with, you hadn't touched yourself in a long while.

Scrolling down your messages, you found some photos that Eddie sent you. His big veiny dick appeared on the screen, making you gasp as you slid your fingers in and out imagining that he was there fucking you. Feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter, you slide another finger inside you until that wasn't enough. Your pussy begging for more than two fingers, you stared at the lush toy in your hand.

You paused to set up the app, feeling it vibrate in your hand. Making you giggle slightly, as you moved it closer to your opening. You had been practicing with your pelvic muscles, Eddie wasn't exactly small. Continuing these exercises as you felt the toy inside you, making you gasp with shock.

Opening the app, you began messing with the controls. Instantly you dropped your phone on the bed, grasping onto the bed covers your moans and gasps filled the room. Your hips buckled at the sensation, it was already on the highest setting and your legs were shaking. Managing to grab your phone, you don't hesitate to call Eddie just as the toy begins to vibrate harder and harder inside you.

''Hi babe!'' Eddie's voice echoed through the phone, a big smile was plastered on his face. You bit your lip as he showed you the band on the screen, only whimpering to yourself as he walked backstage.

''So are you okay babe?'' his voice became mumbled as he walked through the hallway into a quiet secluded room.

You turned off the screen to the Lush app, automatically sending him the link to your toy. Allowing yourself to moan as your face was blocked.

Once you opened the video call again to see Eddie's face looking shocked but mildly aroused. You giggled through a quieter moan, watching as Eddie connected his headphones.

''Are you using it now?'' he whispered into the phone, his eyes not leaving yours.

You nodded with a moan.

''I sent you the link if you want to control it'' you gasped, watching him disappear. His voice was husky and hot as he muttered 'fuck' under his breath, moving the controls with his fingers and listening to you moan louder down his ear.

'Fuck Daddy, that feels so good'' you whined, placing your phone next to your head as you relaxed into the movements.

Eddie growled at the name 'Daddy'.

“God sweetheart, you’re turning me so much” he gasped as he listened to you moaning into the phone.

Controlling your toy, he held his finger to the maximum option. His bulge in his boxers grew tighter and tighter as he listened to your moans.

His hand slid down his jeans as he closed his eyes, feeling his length around his hand as he softly stroked it to the sound of you.

“I’ve missed you” his voice was breathless as his fingers touched the tip of his dick, your moans filled his ears.

Your whimpers, he went back to the video call screen and watched your facial expressions as you watched yourself.

“It feels so good Daddy, you could make cum”’your whine made him gasp as he tightly grasped his dick.

“You should Sweetheart, cum for Daddy” he began panting hard as thrusted his dick between his hands, not taking his eyes off you.

He went off the video screen and began playing with your contrôle, melting into his boxers as you filled up his headphones loudly. Moaning in unison as your legs shook violently, his chosen vibrations were heavenly as you placed the phone on your chest making sure your moans were being directed into the speaker.

You could hear Eddie’s soft grunts as he touched himself, increasing the vibrations bit by bit until you felt yourself reaching your climax.

“Daddy, oh fuck. I’m so close” panting as the toy edged closer and closer, listening to Eddie’s moan on the other side of the phone.

He watched you as your eyes began to roll back, your moans increased a pitch as you came hard. Squirting hard against your Lush toy, coating the bed and your legs.

Smirking as you looked at him, he was biting his lip.

“Want me to help Daddy cum?” You looked at him innocently, as you moved your fingers down to taste yourself. Keeping your eyes on him.

He nodded through his moans, his eyes were filled with lust and want as they stared through you. Your words were angelic to him, his hair was sweaty and stuck to his face as he panted.

“You’re such a good boy for me, touching yourself like that. You’re going to play with your tip, like Mommy, aren’t you?” Your eyes were seductive and soft, as his head tipped back with ecstasy as his fingers played his tip.

Eddie whimpered as you praised him, his pants were quicker and more aggressive as his eyes rolled back. You could see his Adam’s Apple which was engorged as he moaned, biting your lip. You moved your hand between your thighs and softly stroked your clit to the sight of him.

His eyes opened, filled with lust and sensitivity as he stroked himself through his orgasm. Gasping as he heard you whimper with him, his tip twitched with every touch.  Thrusting into his hand as he imagined he was fucking you, making the phone tremble.

Your praise echoed in his brain as he gasped suddenly, feeling himself cum hard in his hands. His eyes widened at the sight, biting your lip and you focused on him. As he continued to stroke himself, making himself cum for the second time.

“Did that feel good baby?” Your voice was giddy as you smirked at him, he nodded. Still holding his soft dick around his fingers, not wanting to move.

His eyes gazed at you, full of love.

“You’re so goddamn pretty” he sounded slightly annoyed at the prospect, his thoughts were interrupted with loud knock sounds on the other side of the door.

Sighing in annoyance, he removed his hand and got closer to the door. Not opening it, he spoke through the door. It was his manager, informing him that the rest of the band had gone to eat.

“Thanks Nigel, I’ll probably join you guys in a bit. Bye” his head was pressed against the door as he pulled faces into the camera. Your laugh resonated through the camera making him smile.

You continued talking for a few moments until Eddie told you that he should probably clean his hands, you smirked and kissed the camera in unison with him.

“I love you babe. Speak to you soon, I’ll miss you” his voice sounded sad as you ended the call.

Falling heavily onto the bed, silence filled your ears as you clutched onto the phone. Sighing, you felt suddenly so sad breathing through your potential tears. Trying your hardest to repress them until they spilled down your cheeks, you pushed your head into the pillow and began to cry heavily.

Eddie's face appeared in your mind, your heart ached for his touch in real life. It had been so long since you saw him last, every time the call ended you ached for him. His voice still made you tremble, soothing and turning you on all in one.

You had fallen in love with him hard and fast, he caught your fall with his love.

Months before tour, he promised you that he would be back sooner than expected. It had been 6 months since you last saw his face, this gift off him was exciting for you both. It connected you in a way that you never thought was possible.

As you got ready for work the next day, you received a text message from Eddie.

Hey Sweetheart,

I hope you have a good day at work.

Here is a fun idea, why don't you put your lush in and we can have some fun together today? ;)

You laughed at his message, opening the draw to where you had neatly tucked your lush into. Staring at it before deciding to take his advice, warming yourself up before sliding it in inside you with an 'oof'

Hey Eds,

I have it in me,

On my way to work now, let's have that fun. ;)

Sitting in your car as you began driving to work, you had connected the toy to Eddie's toy. Feeling nothing for the first few moments, as you pulled up to the lights. You began to vibrate, grasping onto the steering wheel as you gasped loudly. Your legs were shaking as you struggled to place your feet on the pedals.

Moaning loudly into the steering wheel  gathering yourself together as you drove towards work. He was messing with the controls as you drove the work, your hips grinding against the chair as your clit pulsated.

Mumbling 'fuck' under your breath as you pulled up to work, sitting the parking lot for a few moments. Deciding to text Eddie as you sat in a pool of your own making.

Hey Eds,

Just got to work, you had me shaking on the drive over.

Please for me, keep it on the low setting. I don't want to get caught!

I love you

He replied almost instantly,

Hey Sweetheart,

Well that's no fun but you've got me so hard just thinking about you like that. I'll try and behave myself.

I love you too

Throughout the day, Eddie continued to play with the controls on your toy. Forcing you to go into the store rooms just to moan and catch your breath as he increased the speed, you sent him videos of yourself in store room moaning his name. Before you'd head out to greet the public with the low buzzing feeling between your legs.

As you walked to your car at the end of the day, you had not been able to cum all day. Your clit was throbbing, aching for release. You decided to ring Eddie as you drove home, letting him increase the speed.

He answered your video call within seconds, the sight of his face sent shivers down your body. Your clit twitched at the sight of his tongue.

''Hey Eds'' your voice was shaky and moany as you bit your lip, he smirked before changing the insensitivity of the controls between 100% and 1%, listening to you whimper for more.

''I bet your pretty pussy is so sore, needing to cum huh?'' his voice was dark and husky, a soft chuckle escaped his mouth as he heard your needy moans.

''Please Eddie, I need to'' you whined.

''I'm sorry but I don't know who Eddie is, use my real name Sweetheart if you want to cum'' his voice was deeper as he warned you.

''Uh huh, sorry Daddy'' you bit your lip as you stared at the camera.

''Good girl, now lets make you cum all those seats'' he groaned as he created his own pattern for you to use.

It was 3 minutes long, pressing 'use' on the app. You began shaking, your knuckles going white from gripping onto the steering wheel tightly. Your head was resting on the wheel, as you focused on the road in front of you. Eddie's voice echoed throughout the car as he coached you through the vibrations.

Grinding your clit against your underwear, in the wet pool that had collected throughout the day. It slid easily against the material, making you moan as your legs shook. Your clit hurting as it throbbed, you sped up with the movements gasping loudly as you felt yourself squirt.

You squirted three times, your legs violently moving against the chair. Your moans were loud, Eddie watched in amazement. His eyes pierced into you, making you cum a second time.

''Oh fuck Daddy, I came so hard. You're going to make me cum again aren't you?'' you whined loudly, your hands still firmly gripping the leather wheel.

Sitting in the wet patch in the seat, as your hips bucked as the vibrations increased inside of you.

''That's right Sweetheart'' his voice was sharp and clear, he was watching you as your moaned into your steering wheel.

Clenching yourself around the toy, your clit was rubbing against your underwear as he moved the controls. Your eyes rolled back as he controlled you through your orgasm, squirting once more over the chair. Gasping and panting 'Daddy' into the car as you came again.

''You've been such a good girl for Daddy. He's going to turn it off now, you need to rest okay Sweetheart'' his voice was soft and kind as he exited the controls.

Staying on the call with you until you reached home, you video called until he was called on stage. He sat and talked to you whilst you were in the bath, it felt as if he was in the room with you. The candles flickered as he stared at you covered by the bubbles of the bath.

''I love you Sweetheart, I will speak to you soon'' his voice was sad as he ended the call. Leaving you alone in the lukewarm bath, the candles were melting closer to the end.

You sat in the bath, your arms curled up to your knees until the water became cold. Emotionless, you wandered into the bedroom. Lying on the bed, still slightly damp, not bothering to dry yourself as you climbed into bed. Scrolling through the band's Instagram page, feeling jealous at the images of Eddie with fans. You fell asleep with your phone next to you on the pillow.

Eddie continued to play with your toy all week, making you cum in your car after work. Promising to pay for your seat to be cleaned, you laughed at his fake promises.

It was Friday, you knew that they would be playing their biggest show today. Feeling sadder at the idea of not being able to speak to Eddie for a while, he would be practicing and preparing for the big show. He had been meeting fans all day, when he finally called you. 

His hair was messy, his eyes looked tired but they lit up at the sight of you. A big gleaming smile was plastered across his face, rambling to you about how amazing his fans were. Your jealousy crept through your veins but softened at the words ‘I love you’ 

You talked through your day until he was getting ready to go on stage, out of the blue he asked if you were near your lush toy. 

‘’Yes Eddie, it’s in my drawer next to me’’ your eyebrows knitted together with a curious smile. Watching his lip curl. 

‘’I want you to use it whilst I’m on stage, this might be naughty but I have an idea’’ he waited for your response before explaining his plan to you. 

‘‘I replaced one of my earplugs with you, instead of the music it be your moans ‘’ his eyes were dark and hot as he stared at you. 

You were intrigued by the idea, he stayed on the phone as you placed it inside you. Instructing you on how to warm yourself up, his phone was in his pocket with the camera off as he placed his headphone in his ear and walked on stage. 

The screams of the crowd filled your phone, as your hands switched between playing with your clit and the controls. Making sure that Eddie could hear you, your legs in the air as you lay on your bed. 

His voice echoed down the phone, your fingers sped up the pace on your clit as your eyes were tightly shut listening to Eddie sing. Listening to the crowd, as you whimpered edging closer and closer to your orgasm. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter with every note of Eddie’s voice. 

‘’ Oh Daddy, I’m so wet for you. Just the sound of your voice makes me wet’’ your voice was strangled through your moans, gasping as you reached your orgasm. Your legs rapidly shaking, your phone moving across your chest as you came hard. 

‘’Oh fuck, I came for you Daddy’’ you whined, moving the phone closer to your mouth to make sure Eddie heard. 

As you leant forward to switch the camera mode, you accidentally muted Eddie. Gasping as you struggled to find the microphone button, not hearing Eddie on the other side of the phone. As you were forced onto your back, the vibrations of the lush toy made you moan with pleasure. Your body temperature increased with the fluctuating speed of the remote, unable to grab your phone you moaned as close to the speaker as you could. 

‘’Oh Daddy’’ your moan came out whining and desperate as the controls went crazy on the screen as it sent  you between high intensity and low intensity. 

Your body rubbing against the bed as you moved with the toy, your muscles clenching around it. Your knuckles were hurting from the grip you had on the cover, your continuous moans echoed down the phone. 

Managing to get your body closer to your phone, you scrambled to find the microphone setting needing to hear his voice on the other side of the phone. 

‘’I need to hear your voice Daddy, I won’t be able to cum without it’’ you sounded needy and pathetic as you whined down the speaker. 

Eddie began to talk to the crowd slowly as you groaned, not caring about who was controlling the toy. Your body fell back onto the bed, his voice sent shivers down your spine as it echoed into the speaker. You had moved the phone closer to your ear, you were grinding your clit against your hand as the toy pulasted inside of you. 

Your legs tightened, your eyes opened quickly with a loud gasp. Squirting all over the bed, all over your legs and hands, you continued to move your hand through your orgasm as your body began to shake. 

‘’Thank you Daddy, oh thank you. It feels so good’’ panting heavily, you turned the camera towards your face. Watching as it glitched, Eddie’s face appeared on the screen 

‘’You sounded so good Sweetheart’’ he too was breathless, his face was dripping with sweat as he beamed at you. The lights illuminating his face, his eyes twinkled as he stared at you. 

‘’It felt so good! Were you controlling it the whole time? ’’ you chuckled, your body relaxing as the toy paused its vibrations. Waiting for him to respond. 

‘Well, Sweetheart…. Didn’t you hear me?’’ a sheepish look swept his face as he laughed. 

‘’No Eds, it felt too good. I think I turned off the audio’’ you sheepishly laughed with him but shot him a puzzled look. 

‘’Uh-- actually… it wasn’t me… I-i Uh passed it to the crowd and told them to activate it for a meet and greet’’ he scratched his head as he tried to avoid your gaze with embarrassment. 

‘’What?’’ you replayed his words over and over in your head, trying to figure out how you felt. 

You wanted to be angry, annoyed for not asking for your permission but as you stared at him. Your feelings changed, finding yourself thinking about how hot it was that Eddie actively listened to someone else encourage you to cum but only he was the one who could hear you. 

After explaining your feelings to Eddie, you suggested that you do it again. 

‘’Eddie, I had never came so hard in my life. The only rule I have is that I want you to hear me cum though’’ you winked at him, feeling hot and bothered at the idea of cumming that hard again. 

 You knew that connecting in this way with him was enough, your sex life would be strengthened when he finally came home but now the idea of him making you cum in a different country got you so hot and bothered.

[ddaenggtan]

say you want passion (i think you found it) | M

you’re a tease. he’s tired of it.

pairing | shownu x fem!reader

wc | 6.5k

genre/warning | Covid doesnt exist sorry, big dick shownu, sweetheart shownu, dom shownu, sub reader, shownu is called hyunwoo in this, he also likes to be called daddy dont judge, sloppy blowjobs, but still, blowjobs, Shownu eats pussy like a CHAMP, Strength Kink, praise, degradation, degrading praise, this is HIGHLY specialized, you've been warned, deepthroating, DEEP deepthroating at that, nsfw pictures, aka shownu likes to remember it when he does a good job so he takes a picture bc it lasts longer uwu, talking with your mouth full (ill let u guess), doggystyle, teasing, brief nipple play, hickeys, begging, dumbification, rough sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, coming inside, gspot shenanigans, this is genuinely so unrealistic please do not think sex is like this ever in real life, i mean literally ever if you ever fuck someone and it's like this then they aren't real they're a fae or a god or some shit okay, aftercare, shownu uses 3-in-1 because He Does, Barely Edited by the grace of @personawife​‘s beta that she fit in when she could ilu, 

a/n | first n last shownu smut specifically bc its leilas birthday (@honiboyyoon​). u better enjoy this. (side note for anyone who isn’t into shownu smut, but is curious: there’s a namjoon version on ao3 that i’ll link here), but this took entirely too much effort and i did my damndest to fit as many things that ur into in this one fic as i possibly could. i hope this makes up for u probably never getting the vampire maknae line foursome i kept promising you sdfkldjsfasdf

The front door opens as you step out of the car, and you grin as your boyfriend appears in the frame. He grins at you and your best friend and you search his expression for a sign of anything other than his usual sweetness, but find none. You resist the urge to pout - you won’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Good luck!” Your best friend teases. You roll your eyes at her - she knows precisely what you envisioned upon arriving back to the quaint little house you call home with Hyunwoo. It’s the reason you wore this outfit, and tried on the clothes you did whilst shopping, and sent him selfies in the poses you did. 

You’re on a mission, dammit. It’s been weeks - literal weeks, not even an exaggeration - since you were properly fucked, and you’re fairly tired of prancing around the house in your shortest shorts and deepest v-necks so that when you bend over just right to water your fern, he gets the perfect eyeful. It’s exhausting to try to send all these signals all day every day - but you know how flustered he gets when you ask him directly, so you tried a different tactic. You were being nice!

And it hasn’t worked. At all. He’s offered to help you water your plants, to let you borrow his flannel pajamas in case you’re cold, and even to buy you a sweater, at one point. 

In August. 

So suffice to say, you’re getting a little tired of him being oblivious. So you’d called up your best friend and invited her to go shopping with you, and yes, it was also very fun to hang out with her and get boba, but she’s also the master of hyping you up and making you feel sexy and desirable, so it was truly a win-win.

Plus, she color-coordinated her own houndstooth pantsuit with your pink houndstooth skirt/blazer combo, so really, you should send her a fruit basket or something. Maybe cookies. 

The point remains that your boyfriend hasn’t responded to any of your borderline pornographic selfies or the very pointed videos of you holding various sex toys and asking if it would fit. You’re at your wit’s end, and you were really hoping that it would truly get through to him this time that you want nothing more than to be railed against the mattress so hard that you cry. 

You’re a simple girl, after all. 

But no! He’s got that sweet smile on his face as you carry your shopping bags in one hand and your purse in the other, carefully sidestepping the cosmos he’d just planted the other day so you wouldn’t step all over his hard work. His smile widens when you reach the door, and he presses a sweet, gentle kiss against your forehead that has you on the verge of tears. 

He waves again to your best friend as she drives off, and as usual snags your shopping bags out of your hand so he can place them beside the door. You’ve already pulled your blazer off to hang in the entryway closet by the time he’s shut the door, and you gasp as you’re jerked back. His hands are on either side of your head, braced against the front door like it’s the only thing keeping him up, and you struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the way his muscles flex.

“Do you have any idea what today was like for me?” He growls. The sound of it brings heat between your thighs, and you resist the urge to cheer. 

“Sorry, should I not have sent you any selfies today?” You ask, keeping your voice as light and innocent as you can. He makes eye contact with you; there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. “Did you not like them?”

“You know damn well what I thought of them,” he mutters, one hand coming down to rest on your hip. “I’ve tried so hard lately, y’know? The tiny shorts with your ass hanging out, the shirts that show everything when you bend over. God, the bending.”

“Really?” You breathe. It’s always exhilarating to know that you’re desired, but this is nearly heady. He fixes his gaze on you, eyes burning, and your smile softens slightly. 

“I was trying,” he says, clearly holding himself back, “To be a good boyfriend. To make sure that you know that I want more from you than just sex, and that I value you as more than just someone attractive. I was trying so hard to prove that you– that we have more between us than that. That I respect you more than that.”

“So don’t respect me.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. You’ve been laying down signals galore the past few weeks, and clearly he did not get the memo. 

“I’m always going to respect you,” he says instead, sighing slightly as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to disrespect you, you’re worth more than that. But fuck, all I wanna do is fuck you stupid right now.”

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks and now you might finally - finally - get it. “Disrespect me, daddy.”

The hand on your hip tightens, no doubt bruising the skin, and you gasp at the feeling. Hyunwoo makes eye contact - just long enough to make sure that you’re on board for whatever it is he’s about to do. 

He could probably suggest a number of things that you’ve never considered and you’d say yes, at this point - you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re desperate. 

The hand on your hips lowers - he traces all the way down your thigh and to the back of your knee before travelling back up, this time under your skirt. He kisses you as he does it - long, heated kisses that make your head spin so perfectly that you don’t know what he’s doing until he glides a finger across your clothed core. 

You gasp into the kiss, but it doesn’t deter him. He pulls down, kissing and biting down your jaw to your neck as his fingers trace over you once more. You can feel him smile against your skin. 

“You’re already soaked,” he tuts. “You’ve ruined this pair, princess. How naughty of you. Would you like daddy to take them off?”

“Yes!” You moan as his fingers ghost over your folds once more. 

“Yes what?” He asks, and you could cry with how much you want him. 

“Yes, daddy,” you tell him, and he smiles once more. It’s blinding, how bright he is when he smiles like that, and for a second you’re breathless. Then you feel them - his hands, burning a trail along your thigh to tug at the band of your underwear. It only takes him a few seconds to pull them down as he bends, and he kisses your thigh as he brings one of your legs up so he can slide them off completely. 

He was right - they are ruined, the evidence of your arousal immediately apparent by the large wet spot in the center. He doesn’t bother to slide them off your other leg, though - just lets them hang from your ankle, no doubt as a reminder of how strongly he affects you.

He presses kisses to every bit of skin he can as he stands fully upright once more, suckling a mark into your collarbone that you’ll absolutely cherish when you have to cover it up before work tomorrow. 

His hands don’t leave your thighs - warm and strong and utterly distracting, you can’t take your mind off them as he kisses you again, heady and intoxicating. You feel it as one hand travels back underneath your skirt again, gliding between your thighs. 

A moan sticks in your throat as his fingers slide in between your folds - the feeling of them teasing against your hole before they move to rub light circles into your clit is nearly too much to handle. 

“Hyunwoo, please–”

“Patience,” he interrupts. You can hear the smile in his voice as he slides over your hole once more, spreading your arousal across your lips before teasing your clit again. “Good girls have patience, right, princess?”

You whimper, hips arching off the door to try to guide his finger inside of you. It’s a futile attempt - he just returns to the slow, infuriating circles on your clit, and you would cry if it didn’t feel as good as it does. 

It could be hours or it could be seconds that he continues this pattern - slow, maddening circles on your clit, then the slightest bit of a tease at your hole, just enough to make you think that maybe he’ll fuck you with his fingers, before he returns to the circles. It’s enough to make a stronger woman cry, and you can’t help the whines that you let out when he once again deprives you of the fuck you so desperately want. 

“Please just fuck me,” you finally break, hands moving from where they’re wrapped around his neck to circle his waist and do your best to pull him in closer. You can feel him against your thigh, warm and thick and big, and you want him. 

He hisses when you grind against him, and the one hand that remains on your hip tightens ever so slightly. “You’re being very bad, princess,” he chastises, but you couldn’t care less. Your mind is focused on the memory of what he felt like inside you, and you’re ready to burst with need.

“I don’t care,” you tell him firmly, hands sliding up under his shirt to run your nails against his muscled torso. “I don’t care, I need you, please, I just want–”

“I know,” he cuts you off. His hands disappear from you entirely, but only for a moment - before you know it, two large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding yours out of his shirt. You can't stop whimpering, caught between the memory of the last time he was between your thighs and the reality of his lips against your skin.

Hyunwoo drops - he hits the wooden floor with a muffled thud, and before you can even react, his hands are underneath your skirt. He pushes it upwards, muttering something almost reverent about thighs as he does, and then he’s pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. His hands don’t stop, though - they keep going, shoving your skirt up until it pools around your waist.

“H-Hyunwoo—”

“Ssh,” he whispers, giving your thigh a light bite. A heartbeat later and you can feel his warm breath against your folds. “You wanted to feel good, right?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe, hands instinctively tangling in his soft brown hair. 

“Then be a good slut for me, and stay still while I make you feel good." 

You stifle a whimper - he knows what his words do to you, and you jolt as his tongue gently nudges against your folds. There's no stopping the soft sigh that falls from your lips as he delves deeper, ghosting across your swollen clit to nudge against your hole. He's tentative, teasing with his movements - he likes to make you wait, tease you until you're grinding against his mouth.

You doubt this will be an exception.

A moan is thrust out of you as you feel your hole stretch slightly. Not much, not far - just enough to accommodate him as he fucks your hole with his tongue. It's just the right side of unsatisfying - you're aching, absolutely dripping for him, and this is just enough to whet your appetite and make you hungry for more.

You can feel his smile against you, and you already know what's coming - still, it's disappointing when he pulls his tongue out. You whine, unashamed of how you must sound or how loud you may be, and he chuckles.

"Patience, baby girl," he breathes. Warm air flows over you, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. His tongue shifts again, lapping at your clit for long enough that you think you may cum before he stops to draw mind-numbing circles around it instead.

Time bends around the two of you - it always does when he's between your thighs like this, when he's teasing and deliberate with every swipe of his tongue against you, every press of him against your hole. He edges you for so long; slow circles around your clit turn to quick thrusts inside of you that shift into laps against your hole that drag upward, just barely catching your clit before they stop.

You're sure there would be a puddle on the floor were it not for his dedication. The entire house is filled with the sounds of his mouth against you, only drowned out by the sound of your cries as he begins to suck on your clit.

Your knees quake on either side of his head, and he doesn't hesitate to bring his hands up behind your thighs. Without a second thought, he lifts - not even pausing in his mission, tongue still thrusting into you at an almost absurd rate - and then your thighs are resting atop his shoulders. You gasp, both in shock and in pleasure as he lets his teeth graze ever so lightly against that bundle of nerves.

This isn't the first time he's done this - put you on his shoulders and left you there while he eats you out within an inch of your life - but it's the first time in a long time, and it has you seeing stars as one of your hands stays tangled in his hair and the other is braced against the wall beside you.

"Hyunwoo, please–" You beg, but you can't catch your breath long enough between moans to say anything more. He sucks again, the flat of his tongue gliding over your clit as it's pulled into his mouth once more, and your vision goes white. Your knees quake, and you're sure that if you had been standing, you wouldn't be anymore.

"That's my girl," Hyunwoo praises after he's done cleaning up your cum. When you can see again, you realize he's set you down on the floor and is slowly massaging your thighs.

"Hyun, I....please....can you–"

"You want me to fuck you stupid, baby?" He asks. His tone is a little patronizing, but that's okay, because it only serves to turn you on more. "Does my sweet little whore need my cock in her?"

"Yes, please," you whimper, hips tilting upwards against nothing of their own accord.

Hyunwoo stands and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweats. A few moments later he's pulled them down just enough to free himself. Your mouth drops open slightly when you finally lay eyes on him - you know he's big. You know that he is big, you've had his entire length inside of you several times now and you've felt it for days after each time, but it still never fails to shock you.

Because he is big. Thick, so thick you can hardly wrap your entire fist around him, and long, with the perfect curve that hits that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. His dick is nearly as perfect as he is, and that is a very high bar.

It's also so hard that you can see it throbbing, jumping every so often as his muscles tense.

"You want me to make you come with my cock, right, baby?" He asks, once again using that patronizing tone that makes heat creep across your cheeks.

You nod.

"Then you're going to have to ask nicely, aren't you?" He prods.

"Please, daddy," you say without hesitation, "Please fuck me, I want you to make me cum so hard that I cry, I want to be a good slut for you."

"Very good, baby," he praises. "Now I want you to prove that you mean it. Can you be a good little whore and suck my cock?"

You lean forward, not even bothering to use your hands because your bones still feel like jelly. You run your tongue across the tip of him, giving small kitten licks to the slit just how he likes. A groan rumbles through him, and he lets out a soft gasp as you slip your tongue down to wet the shaft as well. 

"Fuck, princess," he moans, "I think you've gotten even better at this."

Encouraged, you let your mouth hang open– just barely wide enough to get your lips around the shaft– and let your tongue rest on your spit-slick lips. You glance up long enough to see that Hyunwoo's eyes are blown wide with his desire before you mouth sloppily down his dick. It's messy and would probably be disgusting if it were anyone but the two of you and Hyunwoo didn't have that look in his eyes that promises you'll remember tonight for several weeks. 

His hands move, one adjusting his grip on the doorframe as you suck the head of his cock between your lips while the other comes down to grip one of the two buns you put your hair in that morning. He tugs - not hard, not yet, but firmly enough that it stings slightly and makes you keen.

"If you're going to make a mess, don't you think you should clean it up?" He asks. You lift a brow and he grins. "Clearly you're not that tired if you still have an attitude."

"No," you whine, "I am tired, my bones are basically nonexistent right now thanks to you."

The hand in your hair loosens slightly, and Hyunwoo tuts. "I have to do all the work, huh? Then get on your knees for me, baby girl, so I can use you like a good toy." 

You rush to comply, and only wince a bit at the feeling of the cold floor against your knees. His hand stays where it is the entire time you're moving, but he waits until you're sitting still, legs folded under you and giving you that extra bit of height you'll need. 

"Let me know if it's too much," Hyunwoo commands, and you nod. His eyes darken, slightly, and he runs his thumb along your jaw. "What's the signal?"

"Two taps on your thigh," You tell him, not for the first time. He's always so careful beforehand, and while you appreciate just how much he cares about you, you also are sick of just staring at his cock, and your mouth is beginning to water. 

Hyunwoo coos slightly, and the hand in your hair shifts to guide rather than just anchor. "You're always so good for me," he mutters as he slides the tip past your lips. "Always such a good little slut." 

You don't stop the whimper that escapes your throat – he loves them, and you know it. Your mouth is lax, nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he sees fit, and there's the slightest twinge of complaint as your jaw begins to stretch. 

You ignore it, determined to get as much of him as possible this time. You've practiced for this, nearly every day, since the last time and you're not stopping until you beat your record. 

Hyunwoo sighs as he hits the back of your throat. "God, you're perfect," he mutters as he begins to slide back out. You let your jaw relax a bit as he does, and when just the tip rests on your tongue, you give it a small kiss, just because you can. 

Hyunwoo smiles, gaze softening for a split second. "Hands in position, baby girl," he reminds you, and you do as he says – one hand on back of each of his thighs, so you can tap out if you need to. 

Also so you can feel those incredible muscles flex as he starts shallow thrusts, rippling and tensing under your fingers. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied, you'd bite them. 

Hyunwoo continues carefully, testing just how much of himself can fit before you start to gag on his length….and just how long you can choke before you really start to need air. 

He pulls back before you even need to tap out, always careful to keep an eye on you for any warning signs. He slides back in and waits until he hits the back of your throat again, pushing slightly further, and just as he's about to begin pulling back out, you look up at him with wide eyes.

You know you look like a mess; drool gathering on your lips because your mouth is too full to hold it, tears streaming down your cheeks from your attempts to stop gagging. Hyunwoo loves it when you look ruined like this, adores taking your perfectly crafted image and crumbling it to pieces in his hands. 

So it's no surprise when he lets out a low moan, or when he lets himself slip a little further down your throat. This is as far as he's ever gotten and you want him to know how good you are, how hard you've been practicing  with the toys underneath your bed. He slides out, precum dripping onto your tongue as he does, and you bat your lashes at him.

"Use me," you tell him. "Use me like the toy that I am for you, Daddy." Something darkens in his eyes and he doesn't hesitate to thrust  back in.

Your eyes water with the force of it and you don't stop the moan that escapes you as he slides deeper down your throat than he's ever been before. There's still a couple inches left before he'd be fully sheathed, but Hyunwoo doesn't even seem to notice as he pulls out just to thrust back in.

Neither of you are quiet — you can barely hear the wet squelch of your mouth. It's drowned out by the moans he draws from you, which in turn pull moans from him between the words he growls out.

"God, you're so perfect," he mutters as he fucks your throat with abandon. "The perfect angel slut, so good at getting throatfucked, just made for my cock no matter where it goes, huh? You're such a good whore, you're probably fucking soaked just from my dick in your mouth, aren't you?"

You whimper around him and he speeds up, relentless; he's not wrong either — you are soaked, can feel it between your thighs as your hips rock fruitlessly against empty air.

"Oh, look at you," Hyunwoo coos, "So desperate to be fucked while sucking me off. Maybe one day I'll get one of your buddies over here to fuck your throat while you ride my cock, since you're so desperate to get used like a good slut. But I don't even think that'll be enough, will it? Because they won't be me." He thrusts a little deeper, a little rougher, and you aren't sure if the noises you're making are as loud as they seem to you but either way, they only serve to egg him on. 

"No," Hyunwoo continues, "They won't be Daddy, will they? They won't be able to get this deep in your throat, won't be able to fuck you like this. And you know why? Because this is my hole." He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust and you squeeze the backs of his thighs to show your agreement. "You're my perfect slut. My good little whore. Isn't that right, baby girl?"

You squeeze the backs of his thighs again, but it isn't enough. He stills, still buried nearly to the hilt inside you, and cocks a brow.

"Well? Aren't you my perfect whore?" Your face flames, heat burning in your cheeks. Your jaw aches from being stretched for so long, there spit and precum dripping down your chin  and you can feel him throbbing in your throat. 

And Hyunwoo looks expectant. He wants to hear you agree with him, wants you to remind yourself of this fact.

You don't even blink when he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. You can't see what he does, but based on how he angles it and the shallow thrusts he gives without looking away from the screen, you can guess. 

"Aw, is my baby girl getting shy now?" He teases as you make eye contact with the lens and feel your face heat up. "Don't even worry about it, baby. I just wanna remember how fucking perfect you look right now forever. My perfect cocksucking slut."

You whimper, pussy clenching around nothing and you're overcome with a sudden need to feel him inside you.

"Are you gonna be a good slut now?" Hyunwoo continues, still recording. "Are you daddy's good slut?" You nod and can't stop the reflexive swallow as he goes even deeper. Hyunwoo groans at the feeling and you can see his grip on his phone tighten for a moment.

"Say it," he commands when his eyes open once more. "I want to hear you say it."

" 'm 'a'y's 'er'ec' 'ore," you moan. It doesn't even sound like words, at this point, but when you look back up at him with wide eyes. Hyunwoo looks proud.

"You absolutely are," he whispers. He hits a button and then pockets his phone again. He slides carefully out of your mouth and casually strokes his cock with one hand as he wipes spit from your face with the other. "I think you've been a perfect angel, baby girl, so you've earned your reward. Where would you like it?"

"Bed, please, Daddy." Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, but you don't care, and Hyunwoo doesn't seem to either as he pulls his sweats up and then bends. The world spins for a moment and then steadies, and you realize he's got you in his arms. Hyunwoo carries you like a princess towards the room you share, and tosses you on the bed without hesitation.

Your eyes widen as he starts to strip out of his clothes, and you can't deny that you enjoy the show. The torso of muscles all rippling, the golden skin all shining, the desire in his eyes. Then the sweats — they hit the ground with a thud and you idly hope his phone is alright before you remember there are more important things right now.

He is, unsurprisingly, still hard — almost painfully so, a deep swollen pink at the head and jumping every so often. The vein running up the underside is throbbing, and you can actually feel yourself get wetter with anticipation.

One knee rests on the mattress, then the other, and Hyunwoo is crawling towards you on his hands and knees, and you can see every muscle as it shifts and fuck you love this man.

"I love you," you tell him, not for the first time. He breaks for a second, a bright smile taking over his face.

"I love you," he replies, pressing a kiss to your thigh. "Can we take those clothes off now, baby, because as great as you look, you're even better naked."

Breath catches in your throat and you nod. Hyunwoo is almost reverent as his hands glide up your thighs and is exceedingly gentle as he slides down the zipper and then the skirt itself. He smiles again, almost shy, and you can't help but marvel at the fact that this is the same man who bad you gagging on his dick not five minutes ago.

He leans in and gently nudges your nose with his, but when you lean forward to kiss him, he backs away with a playful grin. His warm hand rests on your waist and he leans in again only to dart back when you try to kiss him — not far, though. He's still close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath mix with yours, but it's still infuriating. 

You pout at him, and his smile just grows. "What is it?" He asks, teasing. "What do you want?" His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and it nearly breaks you.

"You," You whine. "I want you."

"You have me." He leans forward then, capturing your lips with an intensity you haven't seen in a long time. His mouth moves against yours and it's firm, commanding, and absolutely intoxicating as he pulls back just to lightly bite your lips. It's not rough, not really, but it's fiery and exciting and everything you've wanted. 

He presses closer, nimble fingers undoing the buttons of your blouse in what seems like an instant. Warm hands cross your spine and then your bra is gone, too. His skin seems to meld to yours, hands moving everywhere as he lays you back. 

Your breath hitches when you feel him against your entrance and he smiles into the bruise he's sucking into your throat. 

"You're so fucking wet, baby," he breathes as his tip teases against your entrance. "You're always so wet for me, so ready to be fucked. Just a perfect fucking whore, huh?" He slides in then, but only a bit. Just like before, it's just barely enough for you to feel him stretching you out. Just a tease of what's to come.

"Hyunwoo," you whine. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he chuckles.

"What is it? You want more?" He slides in further, but just a centimeter. You whine again, pushing your hips up against his to try to push him deeper. You can feel yourself throbbing, aching, for him, and you're tired of being teased. You want to be full. 

You tell him as much, watching his pupils dilate with every word until there's hardly any iris left to be seen. 

"Is that so?" He mutters, almost to himself. "Well, your wish is my command." He slides in, slowly, but this time he doesn't stop. He just keeps going and going and going, until you can feel him at your cervix. It stings – you're stretched so far, and he's so deep inside – but you relish it. 

"Beautiful," Hyunwoo mutters as he begins to slide back out, inch by agonizing inch. You whimper as the tip nearly slides out, too, and your hips lift of their own accord. Hyunwoo takes the hint and pushes back in; he creates a rhythm, one so slow, so maddening, that you're on the verge of tears as you whine and whimper underneath him. 

He notices your frustration, pulls himself away from lazily mouthing at your nipples, and hums. 

"What's wrong, baby? You aren't satisfied yet?" He gives you that Boy-Next-Door grin that you know hides a demon behind it. "Are you going to ask nicely again? Tell me no one fills you up like I do and beg me to fuck you the way you want? You look so pretty when you beg."

Any other time, you wouldn't. You would at least hesitate, make him work a little harder for your pleas. But you're desperate and frustrated and have no shame, so you don't hesitate. 

"Please, Daddy," you beg, letting your legs fall open and arching your back so his eyes drop lower and lower. "Please, Daddy, no one can fill this pussy like you do, no one can fuck my holes like you. Pl–please," you moan as he slides entirely inside once more, "Please fuck me right, make me come on your cock, I wan– wanna be fucked stupid, want you to– to fuck me stupid, please, wanna be Daddy's perfect slut, pl– Ah!"

You can't help your surprised gasp as Hyunwoo flips you onto your stomach with a low growl.

Warmth drapes along your back as you rise up, palms splayed across the sheets and elbows locked to keep you upright; his skin is sweat-slick and heated against your own, and a shiver runs down your spine when he pauses to runs his teeth along the lobe of your ear. 

"You are the best part of my life," he announces.

Butterflies explode in your belly a split second before he slides out of you.

"And I'm gonna make you cum so hard that you'll never forget that fact."

"Hyunwo— Oh!"

He thrusts into you with enough force to toss you into the headboard, had he not planted one hand firmly on your hip and had the other curled around your breast to tease your nipple. 

"You like that?" Hyunwoo asks with a smile in his voice. He repeats the movement and you clench around him as you gasp out a moan.  It's all you can do to nod and he flicks your nipple in response. "Good."

He lifts up, both hands now holding you steady by an iron grip on your hips, and readjusts his legs so yours are spread slightly wider. Your arms are trembling but you pay them no mind. 

Until Hyunwoo thrusts forward, pulling back just as quickly only to bury himself again, a heartbeat later. His pace is absolutely merciless; the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, mixing beautifully with the wet slide as he shoves back in and the rough, throat moans that he pulls from you. Your vision swims, and you can't concentrate on anything else as he gives you the fucking that's been haunting your dreams every night. 

He adjusts his grip, one hand moving to sit firmly on the small of your back and press you down just a bit. The angle shifts – not much, but enough that the next time he pounds into you, he thrusts right up against that spot that makes your toes curl. 

You cry out, vision going white as he hits it again, and again, and again, absolutely ruthless in his mission. Your muscles go weak, biceps twitching as they give out, and then you're face down in the mattress. Hyunwoo doesn't hesitate, just ghosts his palm down to rest between your shoulders and keep you in place. 

He might be talking – you certainly think you hear the low tones of his voice as he speaks to you, but you can't make out words. It's too much work, too many syllables, too much effort to try to work past the haze that blankets your mind. You can still feel him, pumping in and out of your gushing pussy — the stretch barely stings anymore, and he throbs inside of you.  Each thrust is still perfectly angled to hit that mind-numbing place that keeps you from doing anything more than screeching his name. 

He slows, immediately switching from speed to power as he manages to put even more force behind his hips. The hand in your back moves, as does the one on your hip and then you're rising.

A warm palm across your throat – not choking,  just keeping you in place while the other traces along your spread thigh. 

There are words – something your brain is too fried to make out, and then a rumble that vibrates through you. A laugh. His thrusts get a little faster as he fucks up into you, and you're dimly aware of his fingers slipping between your folds. 

Someone screams — no, not someone. You. You scream, something so loud and provocative that it can't even be called a moan anymore, as he begins to rub circles around your clit. Orgasms rock through you,  every part of your body going boneless even as you shake from the force of it. It's impossible to tell when it stops, if it stops – the aftershocks are strong and he still hasn't stopped fucking you, though he's slower and gentler now, letting you ride it out on his cock. 

"……perfect for me, " you hear him whisper as you're senses come back. "Absolutely perfect, an amazing fucking— just divine, you are."

"Hyun," you manage, and it's no shock that you sound absolutely wrecked.  "D– Daddy."

"I'm here, baby girl," he mutters, "What do you need?"

"You," You respond instantly. "Want you, wanna fee– feel it, want you to fill me, please, in– ah, inside, want you dripping ou–" You're cut off once more as your body heaves with yet another aftershock, clenching around his hard length again. 

"Whatever you want, baby," he promises. "Can you come once more for me, baby girl? Just one more time so we can come together?"

"Mm…." You pause, taking the best inventory you can as your muscles jolt again. You consider lying to him, or just omitting this, because you know he'll never stop reminding you of it, but decide against it. Instead, you quietly admit,  "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. Within moments, you can feel his thrusts turn more erratic, more frenzied, and then you're impossibly fuller even as something warm drips down the inside of your thigh. 

He's gentle as he lays you down on the bedspread, exceedingly so as he pulls his softening cock out of you. His weight disappears from the bed for a few minutes that seem to stretch into hours, and then the mattress dips, and his soft smile appears once more. 

"Here sweetheart, drink this." He hands you a familiar cup and when you take a sip, the water is cool and refreshing. Wet warmth, surprising but pleasant, glides along your inner thigh and you look down to see him cleaning you up. 

"Mm, this is quite possibly the perfect view," you tease, wagging your brows as you make a show of checking out his muscular arms. It makes him laugh, the soft one that's just for when you're being ridiculous. 

"Drunk your water, you menace," he commands as he continues to wipe. "You're gonna need to replenish your fluids, after all that." He looks pointedly towards the bed and you follow his gaze, face heating when your eyes land on the rather sizable wet spot staining the sheets. 

"Whoops?" You offer. When you look back at him, he only looks fond. 

"Don't even start, it was hot. Besides, they needed to be put in the wash anyway.  I'll start them after you get into the bath." He gives over you, taking kisses along every piece of skin he can until he reaches your lips. You can't help the way your breath catches – even after all this time, he manages to make you breathless over the smallest things.

He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and nose, and everywhere else until you're giggling and trying to turn away from him. Unfortunately, with his arms on either side of you, you're fairly well trapped, so you settle for fucking your head into his neck instead. 

You pause. Sniff again. Back up. He looks sheepish, like he already knows what you're going to say. 

"We were out of the fancy stuff—" He tries, but you don't let him. 

"You used that 3-in-1 shit again?" You demand. "Actual body wash isn't even fancy, it's what normal people use! That's it, you're coming into the bath with me after you start the laundry so that I can make sure you didn't use it in your hair, too."

He smiles again, though you have a sneaking suspicion that he's just humoring you when he nods and says, "Whatever you want."

[renaerys]

37. For Blossutch 👀 can’t wait to binge read all of these lol -Star

37. “If you want to act like a slut, you can dress like one.”

T-posing for feminism.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Dane Blakely was 140 pounds of protein powder in a five and a half foot body, and still he seemed to tower over anyone in his way. He’d cornered So-eun Park on her way to second period because he could not take a hint, and now there was no getting around him.

“I saw you with that loser at the Shankaplex on Saturday, don’t even try to deny it,” Dane said.

So-eun had her back to the lockers, but she held her ground. “Elmer’s not a loser, and it’s none of your business who I go out with.”

Rookie mistake dating the first guy who asked her out when she transferred to Townsville High School at the beginning of the year. So-eun had corrected that poor decision quickly, but Dane was one of those unfortunate guys whose parents had forbidden the word no in their house when he was a child.

“I’m just saying your standards have gone way down.”

“Oh my god, I’m not having this conversation with you.” She went around him, and he didn’t stop her.

“Yeah, fine. If you want to act like a slut, you can dress like one.”

There were not many people around to hear, and Dane didn’t shout it, but she suddenly felt a hundred invisible eyes on her all the same. Unthinking, she gripped the collar of her sweater dress and flushed. Her first instinct was to check the length of her skirt, and she flushed even harder, ashamed of her own weakness.

Her second instinct was to jump out of the way of class superstar Blossom Utonium, who’d been making her way down the hall with fire in her eyes.

“What did you just say?” Blossom confronted Dane, who immediately backed up…

…right into a T-posing Butch Jojo.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dane whirled on Butch.

“The lady asked you a question, dude,” Butch said, still T-posing and taking up half the hallway.

So-eun was not the only person to wander over, curious about the confrontation unfolding at the Senior locker bank. From the moment So-eun stepped foot in these halls, she’d learned about the Powerpuff Girls, aka literal Superheroes walking among the mortals. Blossom and her Super sisters were known for interfering in fights and disagreements that got out of hand, since no one was going to go against a girl who could shatter your spine with a flick of her fingers. But Butch and his brothers tended to avoid getting involved in high school drama. So-eun had never even seen him more than twice since the school year started, and only then from afar. It was a big school, and he probably skipped more often than not. Not that she would know; she’d never exchanged more than a passing word with either of the Supers.

“All right, seriously. Get out of my way,” Dane said.

“Butch, don’t you dare. Not until he apologizes to So-eun.”

So-eun startled at all the attention on her. She didn’t think Blossom even knew her name. She was just the newest nobody on campus, one of a thousand students in the Senior class alone.

Dane seemed just as startled, and his gaze flickered to So-eun just staring openly over Blossom’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Blossom said. She had the audacity to snap her fingers in his face.

To Dane’s limited credit, it was easy to forget what Blossom was capable of when she came in such a pretty pink package and a mountain of red hair. “Take a number.”

He tried to get past Blossom this time, and she T-posed to match Butch behind him. The sight was so absurd that So-eun had to cover her mouth not to laugh at Dane whirling in between them like a confused dog confronted with stair guards on all sides.

“What is this?!”

“This is the part where you apologize for slut shaming So-eun,” Blossom said.

“Wow, that’s weak, bro,” Butch said.

“I didn’t!”

“Did that sound like an apology to you, Butch?”

“I think the fuck not.”

More students had gathered around to witness the bizarre turn of events, including Elmer. He casually slipped his hand into So-eun’s. “What’s going on?”

So-eun shook her head. “I think it might be justice.”

“I’m gonna be late for class, just—move!” Dane tried to duck under Butch’s arm, but he bent at the waist (still T-posing) and Dane only succeeded in smacking his head against Butch’s rock-hard tricep. He swore and ping-ponged back into Blossom, bounced off of her knee, and ended up on his ass on the floor.

“Butch, he’s fallen to the floor,” Blossom said.

“Should we help him up?”

“Unfortunately, we’re contractually unable to help unrepentant slut shamers.”

“So unfortunate!”

Dane, now red in the face and breathing hard from the stress, scrambled to his feet by himself. He frothed at the mouth. If Butch were anyone else, So-eun was one hundred percent sure he would have punched him. “Fuck you both.”

“Hey Blossom, is fuck you both Spanish for I’m sorry, you think?”

“I’m afraid it simply isn’t!”

“What a shame!”

The late bell rang, and Blossom didn’t so much as waver from her T-pose. She didn’t care that she’d be marked as tardy. She was not leaving until Dane apologized, and no one else was leaving until she did. Dane seemed to come to the same conclusion as So-eun.

“All right, Jesus Christ. I’m sorry, okay? Fuck.”

“I’m sorry for what?” Blossom swung open her T-pose and looked directly at So-eun, and so did everyone else.

Dane gnashed his teeth. He glanced around at all the other students watching him, recording everything on their phones, not a single person worried about the consequences of being late for class. Finally, he looked up at So-eun, and she squeezed Elmer’s hand harder. “I’m sorry…for slut shaming you.”

Butch whooped. “He did it!” He went in for a high-five with Blossom, and the smack sent a seismic ripple through the hall that rattled the lockers.

“He sure did! Give it up for Dane Blakely, everyone!” Blossom clapped, and others clapped with her. Soon the hall erupted into hoots and hollers of Congratulations! and You did it! as Dane stomped off even redder than before and people recorded his every humiliating moment on their phones.

Everyone dispersed soon after when some teachers came out into the hall to investigate the racket, and So-eun was one of them. When lunch rolled around and she looked around the cafeteria for Elmer, who’d promised to meet up, she found him waving from a table she’d never in her life have expected to sit at.

Bubbles scooted over to make room for So-eun in between Elmer and herself. “Hi, So-eun! We’re in the same block for History, right?”

“Um, yeah?” Of course So-eun knew that, but it was a big class and Bubbles was Bubbles and everyone knew her name like they didn’t know So-eun’s and this was just too weird.

On Bubbles’ other side was Boomer playing a game with Buttercup on someone’s cell phone, while Brick had his Beats on as he copied some of Blossom’s notes and ignored everybody. Blossom herself sat across from So-eun and smiled.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Blossom.” She actually held out her hand to shake as if she weren’t one of the few people every single person in school knew.

So-eun let out a squeak that must have passed for hi, because Blossom smiled wider and elbowed Butch next to her, who was busy shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Mmph,” Butch said, waving to So-eun.

“I’m sorry…what’s happening?” So-eun asked.

“Halo Infinite is happening!” Mike Believe, Wes Goingon, and Kim Chan slid in around Brick and Blossom. “Todd got the advance copy and he’s hosting this weekend!”

Brick looked up from the notes for that one. “I call dibs.”

Bubbles giggled. “You get used to it,” she whispered to So-eun like they were old pals.

What was happening was that her sort of maybe new boyfriend, Elmer Sgloo, had neglected to mention that he’d been close friends with the literal Powerpuff Girls since kindergarten, and now they wanted to welcome So-eun into their extended circle. As in, the definitely not a bunch of losers circle because it was the honest to god Powerpuff Girls and that was kind of a lot for one seventeen-year-old nobody to wrap her head around.

“Oh shit, you guys are going viral! Check it out!” Buttercup passed Butch her phone, which played a video of Butch and Blossom T-posing for feminism. “Who even is that loser?”

“Some chode,” Butch said. “Bane, or something?”

“No one important,” Blossom said as she leaned on Butch’s shoulder to watch the video. “Right, So-eun?”

So-eun put her shoulders back and popped a tater tot into her mouth, feeling like a champion. “Not at all.”

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[iscribble]

pairing | lee donghyuck x reader genre(s) | fluff, suggestive, established relationship, a little friends to lovers (because that’s how it all started) word count | 4.2k summary | though subtle and often overlooked, lee donghyuck implicitly promises you that the little things he says (and the little things he does) are never void of love. 

or,

you are his addiction and loving you might be, scratch that, is his newest. author’s note | i really wanted to work on this more but i have one final exam left and so i had no choice but to rush this. (also, im starting to think that i made this fic as an excuse to write all kinds of scenarios for haechan. like literally, it’s just so many things in one really short fic. i apologise.)

a reward for the victorious.

“You’re going down Mark Lee!”

Lee Donghyuck is ecstatic.

A knowing smile eases into your lips, the reason being the very boy who sits slanted in his desk chair, eyes trained on the same video game he’s been playing for days. You can hear the cavils that spew out of his red headset, but you can only see the rumpled strands of his ash brown hair (your boyfriend musses them too much when he gets frustrated). You hear the generous smile in his voice slowly turning into a deep, hearty cackle as he nears his victory. Lee Donghyuck can sit there laughing his head off at the most trivial things but he’ll still make you the happiest person on earth. You sigh at the thought.

Donghyuck abruptly stands the same time you hear Mark’s defeated screech. His hands are in the air, balled into fists as he stares at his screen for a little more to drink in the big letters that indicate his win. You can’t see it but you know there’s a magnified grin on his face. A silent chuckle falls from your lips as he disregards his headset on his shoulders. He turns around to meet your form, blanket pulled up to your waist and a pillow cushioning your back. He brings the microphone to his lips, letting Mark know he’s done for the day. 

It’s only 10 p.m., he never finishes this early.

“Are you that sleepy?” You ask as he pulls you closer to him, legs tangled in yours and his arms around your waist. You stay upright against the headboard but you let him snuggle you, his brown locks tickling the exposed skin of your stomach.

“No,” he replies, looking up at you. “I just miss you a lot.”

“We’ve been together the whole day, Hyuck.”

“I know,” he tugs himself up and shifts behind you so you’d lay on his chest. “You’re just rarely awake whenever I win and this time you are, figured I would reward myself.” 

“That’s because you take so long to win against Chenle,” you huff, pretending to be upset about it. “You’re lucky it’s Mark you’re against today.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks flush at your remark but his hold on you only fastens. “That’s not true!” He whines into your shoulder.

You turn around to face him, fingers immediately reaching around his nape to play with his hair. “Well then,” you tilt your head. “Here’s your reward.” You kiss him sleepily, but enough to make his heart race. Donghyuck leans forward and deepens the kiss until you’re laying on the soft covers and he’s hovering over you.

“You make me so happy,” he smiles, inches away from you.

“More than winning against the boys?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” he playfully slaps your side. You poke your tongue out and he melts at the sight. “But yeah, more than winning against the boys.”

troubling nights.

“What’s wrong?” Your touch flutters above his wrist, careful not to startle him. The room is unlit, but you can make out the apprehensive look on his face and the vulnerability in his gaze. He zeroes in on the shadows that hang above your figures, eyes remain restless as they wander around the colourless expanse.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply much, breathing out a subdued whisper of your name. Your ears perk up at the fragility in his voice and you prop yourself up on one elbow beside him. He still doesn’t look at you but you let him be.

“I’m right here,” you like to pinch the glowing apples of his cheeks whenever he smiles, but this time they’re unfortunately level as he knits his brows. Though, when his eyes find yours, the creases across his forehead slacken. 

“I don’t wanna lose you.” It seems as though it’s obvious with the way he treats you whenever you’re around, but Donghyuck never thinks it is. There are times when you notice he’s deep in thought, and you wonder if this is what’s on his mind every time you catch him absentmindedly biting his nails or when he looks like he’s ambling through his thoughts even when he’s just lolling on the sofa. 

“What makes you think you’re gonna lose me?”

“I just,” he heaves a breathy sigh. Your eyes never leave his. “What if one day I wake up and you’re not next to me? What if.. what if you leave me for someone else? Someone way better than me?”

“I’ve never heard such nonsense from you.” You lay beside him with a dramatic plop. A smile graces your features like you haven’t just talked about the thought that’s been bothering him all night.

“Why are you smiling?” He notes your expression, yet a smile is slowly creeping across his face too.

“I just know that’s never gonna happen,” you tell him as your fingers tighten around his slender ones. “So I’m able to smile like this.”

Donghyuck traces the curve of your lips with his free hand. You turn to face him at the gesture, the solemn lineaments you hate to see now erased, like it’s never been there in the first place. 

“You’re pretty when you smile.” Your boyfriend mutters, returning his gaze to your eyes. 

“When I don’t?”

He pretends to think, head propped on his hand. “You still do, but you look like you’re gonna punch me or something.”

Before you can react to his words, he slips the hand that you’re holding out of your snug fingers and crosses both of his arms in front of him as though he’s shielding himself from you. You recognise the defensive pose—you’re so used to throwing pillows at him.

“Lee Donghyuck!” Incredulity crosses your face. “Honestly though, that’s what Renjun said to me the other day.” You would’ve gone with the habitual way of “taming” him if it wasn’t for Donghyuck’s quick reflex as he yanks the pillow in your deathly grip out of your hands.

“Only I’m allowed to say that about you!”

Donghyuck forgets about the particular reason he can’t sleep when you magically replace his thoughts with a charm of your own, a magnetism only you have that brings him falling harder for you. He figures he doesn’t have to worry when all he sees is reassurance in your smile that always seems to grow for him.

fogged minds and hooded eyes.

“Baby,” the lazy ring to his voice has you looking up from your phone, your eyes connected to Donghyuck’s sensual attention. 

You return to the small screen in front of you, trying to dismiss whatever conjecture you have from the sight of his darkened eyes, even when his cold feet manage to rub lightly against your toes from the opposite side of the couch. “What’s up, baby,” you croon, ignoring Donghyuck’s restive eyes.

“Come here,” he sings, his desire for you growing but even then he remains in his position. When you only smile in return, he whines. “Baby come here.”

You observe him out of the corner of your eye. You don’t see him in this state often, slouched without his phone or anything that links him to his friends or the video game he prizes so dearly. Donghyuck’s only ever been this touchy after winning a game against one of the boys, or, when he’s horny.

You click your tongue, throwing your head back as your try to laugh the situation off.

“Do you know what you do to me?” The tone of his voice lowers.

“No, I don’t,” you hold back a giggle. “What do I do to you baby?” You toss your phone on the coffee table—teasing Donghyuck seems more amusing right now.

Your boyfriend thrusts his tongue into his cheek. He doesn’t believe you’re teasing him with the biggest half-moon on your face.

He gets up to walk towards where you’re sitting, his eyes tainted with lust. A mischievous grin replaces your previously huge smile as you look up at him from the couch, not wanting to break eye contact. When he lowers himself, knees on either side of you, you can smell the shampoo he’s been using—a fusion of citrus and apples which makes you succumb to his touch almost immediately, if not for the sudden realisation that you’re giving in too quickly.

Strands of his hair hang loose and cover his vision, but he is able to make out small details of your face just fine. You suppress an excited smirk the more he lowers himself towards you. “This,” Donghyuck says, as his body slowly steadies on top of yours, the feeling of his erection now prominent. “Is what you do to me baby.” Before you can say anything he aims for the delicate expanse of your neck, greedy and impatient. You angle your head in a way that grants him easier access to your skin, now littered with unchaste bruises. A fluid sigh escapes your lips as he kisses your jaw, not a single dry spot along the intricate curve. As soon as he’s quenched his thirst for your bare skin, he tugs you up so that you’re now sitting on his lap, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. You push away the strands that cover his eyes, and though it might seem like he’s given up treating his hair from how long it’s become, you don’t plan to cut it any time soon.

You only stare at each other for a few seconds, a mysterious twinkle in his irises and your teasing smile no longer apparent.

“Kiss me baby,” Donghyuck breathes out, the raspiness of his voice and the feeling of his hands moving up and down your sides give you barely any time to think. The space between your lips dwindles to nothing as you comply and kiss him with fervour.

Lee Donghyuck is eager—he does not let you breathe even when he takes your breath away. He holds you like he’s on the verge of losing you, but also as if you’re brittle and may break into pieces. Donghyuck kisses you with hunger, devours you with greed, revels in the taste of you. Your kiss is messy and sinful, but when it’s Donghyuck, there is always an inkling of sweetness.

“You,” he utters as he pulls away, but takes no time in closing the gap once more. “Are,” another amorous kiss. “So,” and another. “Fucking,” and another. “Beautiful.”

Now he is kind enough to let you breathe, because had it been any other night when you’re not idly passing time on the couch, Donghyuck would’ve had absolutely no second thoughts in sparing you any mercy.  

“What should we do about this?” You follow his line of vision as it slowly approaches the tenting in his pants. You roll your eyes but a pang of realisation hits you as his grip on your hand tightens with every step he takes toward your shared bedroom. 

You could say you spoke too soon. It was brave of you to assume that this night isn’t going to be that kind of night.

lee donghyuck is quite literally drunk in love.

This is the fourth time you’ve seen Donghyuck haul himself up the kitchen island, knocking down several red solo cups and staring at the ooze of pink liquid—one you can only assume as fruit punch—down the chamfered edge of the marble worktop. 

You painfully watch the people in his vicinity encourage his pretend concert and join in on his off-key singing. You feel a nudge on your arm, and you turn around to see Jisung with a perky grin plastered on his face.

“So that’s your boyfriend huh?” He retorts jokingly while juggling two cups of fruit punch. He takes a seat beside you.

A chuckle collapses from your lips. You take one cup from his hand. “Think it’s time he tones it down?”

Jisung only shrugs, a look of admiration on his face as he looks at your boyfriend. “He’s living in the moment,” he says after chugging down his drink and sighing in content. “But he probably won’t remember tonight.” 

You take that as a reminder of how drunk he is and waste no time in approaching the herd of dancing bodies.

“Hey, hey, you, on the table,”  you snap your fingers at him, “come, you’re done.” 

“Baby!” He slurs, evidently drunk. “The fun’s only just begun!” Donghyuck bends down to pull you up with him but you are able to reach his arm faster and tug him down. Donghyuck reluctantly groans but does not resist.

The absence of warmth as you step out the house almost compares to the feeling of sticking your whole body inside a freezer. The numbing effect threatens to conquer your senses but the change of scenery makes up for it. Relieved of all the bodies mingling together like you’re inside a pack of gummy bears, you help your boyfriend into the passenger seat of his car because there’s no way he would be driving like this. 

You decide that the ride home shouldn’t be this quiet, with only the drone of the engine fending off the chance of a silent ride back. You turn the radio on, switching through channels until you settle on one that currently blasts Amy Winehouse’s Valerie. Adjusting the cold button, you turn the volume up until the reminiscent song counterbalances the sound of his car.

Though, almost immediately, Donghyuck brings his hand up to cover yours as he slowly turns the control to the left until the rough hums of the engine enter your ears again.

You raise an eyebrow, letting him lace your fingers together. “Sure don’t want any music after the quote unquote concert you threw?”

Donghyuck only sighs. A smile blooms on the attractive canvas before you. “You’re pretty.” He looks at you dreamily. 

You’re still not used to the little compliments he’d throw no matter how much he says it, no matter how much it sounds like that’s the easiest thing to say. 

“You’re drunk.” You roll your eyes and bring a hand up to turn the volume on. “Plus, you say that all the time Hyuck.” 

“And I mean it every single time.”

Donghyuck’s eyelids grow heavy and his words become more garbled the more he tries to talk with you. His left hand takes comfort in your right as you drive him back, and once in a while you feel him squeeze, a faint smile apparent on his lips. 

Even when he’s drunk, he’s still so in love with you. 

jealousy almost gets the better of him.

The air is stiff as the pendant lights in your kitchen go on with a click but you abstain from soothing the swelling tension, instead opting for little refreshment in the fridge. You are, to say the least, drained of all vitality—a wedding reception that goes on for six hours is sure to bereft you of all energy, especially when you spend most of the night dancing, and to Donghyuck’s dismay, rather closely to an old friend, Jeno. 

It is not to your surprise that he broaches the subject once it is only the two of you, though you really are scarce of any strength to argue. 

“He looked more like your boyfriend than me.” Donghyuck advances, tone a little harsh.

You push your hair back and keep your hand on your brow as it creases, partly from enervation but mostly from annoyance.

“Hyuck,” you set the small carton of banana milk on the countertop. When your eyes trail to Donghyuck, he’s already looking at you from across the table, his usual sunny profile out of sight. His blazer is set aside on the couch, donning only a tight button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. “You know he’s a childhood friend and we haven’t seen each other for ages, can you blame me for wanting to spend some time with him?”

Donghyuck closes his eyes, patently from ire, but deep down he knows it’s irrational. Still, his ego is a big part of him and he doesn’t want to acquiesce. “Then why didn’t you ask him to be your date for the wedding instead?” 

“Because I actually have a boyfriend.” You state the obvious, walking towards your room, the sound of your footsteps growing faint. Donghyuck follows behind you. “You’re being unreasonable, let’s not argue over something this childish. It’s not like I completely deserted you back there.” 

“But you’re practically all over him!”

“He has a girlfriend, Hyuck,” you strip off your obsidian-coloured velvet silk dress, your bare back exposed to Donghyuck’s sight. “But that’s not even the point. Girlfriend or not, you really shouldn’t be jealous.” 

After putting on one of his big t-shirts, you scramble to bed, not bothering to wipe off your makeup. Although Donghyuck is still a little furious, he softens at his favourite sight —you in one of his things. 

“What are you doing?” You are about to pull the blankets up to your chin but stop halfway when the question arises. 

“Sleeping?” You answer, muddled at his attitude. “Are we gonna argue about this too?”

Donghyuck does not reply, instead he leaves for the bathroom. You are visibly confused but are too tired to even think of a reason for his behaviour. 

Out of the blue, you feel a gentle, wet stroke on your cheek. Not too harsh but enough to bring you to your senses.

“What are you doing?”

Donghyuck sits on the edge of your bed, a pack of cotton pads on his lap and a hand outstretched to remove traces of makeup on your face. 

“You say the universe hates you because you always wake up to a new set of acnes, yet here you are sleeping with your makeup on,” he says rather sullenly, though you find it cute.

You unwittingly release a snort and Donghyuck glares at you. He forces your eyes shut as he erases blue powder off the stretch of your heavy lids. You hum quite drowsily, fingers immediately reaching for Donghyuck’s free hand.

“I need this for the thing,” he mumbles as he nods toward the bottle of acetone. You arch an eyebrow. Donghyuck thinks he’s being discreet about it, but you do notice that he’s still jealous and is letting you know in the subtlest ways. 

You retract your hand, figuring that he does need his other hand to clean your makeup anyway. Donghyuck feels your tentative motion and silently draws your hand back to his. His eyes don’t leave your cheek although you know it's because he’s too afraid to look into your eyes. A timid smile plays on your lips while Donghyuck’s thins, concealing every inch of guilt he has. 

You suppose you’re alright like this—he’s cute when he’s jealous.

Everything has a start.

Before the matching carmine crochet socks, diamond kites that rove about the clouds on a breezy afternoon, blueberry pomegranate popsicles that paint your lips an old mauve, the littered kisses on your neck, the soft snores that meld in the air, before all the lazy, lingering mornings safe in each other's arms—Donghyuck confesses that he likes you.

Maybe not intentionally, but his friends tell him it’s overdue anyway. 

He plays an upbeat song on his guitar as if it’s heartbreaking and dramatic, a summery ditty like it’s a sad ballad. The lyrics that leave him are unhurried, falling into the cadence he purposely alters with the slightest, devilish smile playing about his lips and theatrical expressions that are impossible to ignore. His playful eyes only leave the strings to look at you—to laugh at you.

“What’s so funny!” You cry out rather than ask. An exaggerated frown lingers on your face, unimpressed by the absolute foolery across you. Donghyuck can be a little annoying, especially when he’s turning your favourite song into a funny-sounding (but not actually funny) ballad. 

“What’s with your face?” He pauses to wipe a minute tear, attestation to how all out he’s been laughing. 

You throw your head back with a pronounced groan, though a sheepish smile quickly replaces your sullen countenance. “Stop,” you throw a pillow at him, running out of options to silence the boy whose guitar now lies on the cotton rug. “It’s not funny.” Donghyuck’s hearty laughs slowly recede but he’s being painfully obvious on stifling a giggle.  

“God, I love you.”

You don’t remember hearing “God, I love you.” in your favourite song.

Donghyuck realises what he’s done. The words sound artless, and he knows this: there is no room for denying when he doesn’t even have to think—when all of it happens like a subconscious addiction. Because it really is. He would repeat the words like he’s memorising, but he doesn’t need to when he knows it. They recur in his head so many times until they’re spilling out of his lips. 

You are his addiction and loving you might be his newest.

But you are immaculately dense, another foible Donghyuck once teased you for when everyone’s patently orchestrating a surprise birthday party for you and you still fail to notice. You are especially gullible this time for two reasons: one, you’re trying to ignore the fact that you do like him, because two, he can never feel the same way about you. 

In all honesty, having Donghyuck as your boyfriend sure does sound tempting.

“You messed up the lyrics,” you say, bewildered (but more bewildered at yourself for saying this). “There’s no ‘God, I love you’ in there.” 

The boy across you only blinks. He’s become uncharacteristically quiet.

“I know,” Donghyuck clears his throat. “It’s not part of the song.”

“So as a friend then?” You now sit upright with your arm thrown across the back pillows.

“Huh?”

“You said you love me?”

Despite his trembling hands, Donghyuck nods casually.

“As a friend though, right?”

The sound of his heel accidentally thumping his guitar jolts you out of your perplexity. Your friend curses under his breath, clearly uneasy.

“Fuck, no,” he avoids eye contact, choosing to sneak a look at the broken filament light bulb on the ceiling. “I actually, actually love you. More than a friend.”

You shift in your place, now facing the lurid letters on the spine of your book that read How to Find Love 101—considering the situation you probably won’t need it anymore. You almost snicker at yourself.

In the short-lived seconds you are bold enough to look at him, Donghyuck seems like a burden’s been lifted off his shoulders.

“I think,” you start, playing with the hem of your sleeves. “I think I might be in love with you too.” You try to smother the smile that’s begging to manifest but give in when you turn to your right and see Donghyuck riveting his eyes on you with the biggest grin.

“Are you serious?” He asks, picking up a throw pillow in his way and slowly scooting closer to you.

You’re not sure how to react to the sudden proximity but Donghyuck assumes you are serious about your feelings for him as evinced in the shy curvature of your lips. So he really doesn’t wait for an answer before he starts taking your hands in his, prompting you to face him and leave the poor hardback you’ve been staring daggers at alone. 

“So this is what it’s like to have you accepting my confession,” He whispers somewhat to himself. “I’ve planned out scenarios in my head of how I was going to confess to you, I never thought it’d turn out this way.” 

“After you practically ruined my favourite song.”

“After I practically ruined your favourite song.” He laughs freely, still finding the situation quite funny. Even so you couldn’t be happier, being with him now that you know he’s your lover feels like you’ve finally found your safe haven. 

You look down at your hands that are intertwined on his lap, the sweet significance that you belong to each other. He lets go of your hand to tilt your chin up with his forefinger and lace them back together. “I promise to make you the happiest person in the world.” 

And Lee Donghyuck is a man of his word.

Donghyuck would tell you that you make him the happiest even when all you do is sing out of tune. He would steal kisses when you’re not looking and slip in compliments between them because he loves catching you off guard. He would give up any day (even spending time with the guys) just to be in your arms, his favourite place. Even when he’s upset, you could see that he tries to not let it overpower him. When he’s utterly jealous and almost loses it, he still treats you like a princess and sometimes you think you don’t deserve him. On the nights he’s terrified that you might leave him, you make him forget why he ever was in the first place and he loves you for that. At the end of the day, when your bodies are connected, moving as one through the whispers of wind, he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—dare imagine a world without you. 

So the little things he says to you and the little things he does, Donghyuck promises that they’re never empty of love. 

You (and loving you) are his addiction and it will stay that way, perhaps, forever.

[peppersonironi]

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter 2

Next chapter for my Duke Thomas Big Bang fic is up!

(Once again, a hearty thank you to my betas @queerbutstillhereand @theycallme-ook)

Read On Ao3

It was four am on a Friday morning, a week after Duke had decided he’d had enough of Bruce’s - and the other’s - incorrect opinion of him.

It was so early in the morning, that the main group of bats had been trickling back from patrol over the past hour or so. Stephanie and Cassandra had arrived first, followed by Jason ten minutes later. Then Tim had gotten back from his route with Harper, and Kate and Bette had stopped by for a bit (but eventually left for their own homes). Dick came home next, and Bruce had returned last with Damian.

Everyone was in varying states of winding down, with Stephanie at one end of the spectrum wearing silk pajamas, a fluffy robe which Duke was sixty-seven percent sure was Bruce’s, and bright pink bunny slippers Duke was positive were Dick’s. On the other side, Bruce hadn’t even pulled off his cowl, and was sitting down in front of the Batcomputer to work on a case.

Though Duke thought that Tim deserved his own category, dressed in a strange combination of disco track suit and kevlar body armor, and was hunched over three cans of energy drinks and a quart jug filled with espresso shots.

Duke leaned down to double check that his boots were laced up - one time he hadn’t, and had then proceeded to trip and fall into a garbage pile. Not. Fun.

He looked up, however, when Bruce clicked open a case file. So did everyone else, as if drawn by some invisible force.

They all clearly saw as Bruce hovered his mouse over a link which had been typed in sometime while the big bat had been away. The only hint to what it could be was the note reading “New Evidence.”

Bruce grunted in what for anyone else would be an exclamation of curiosity and went to click the link.

Which clearly went to YouTube.

In unison, all the bats’ eyes widened in realization. You see, in a family such as this one, pranks abounded. So they all had painstakingly memorized that series of letters and numbers.

They all knew what it meant.

Suddenly, the Batcave lit up with the dancing form of one Rick Astley. It was everywhere. On the several large monitors that made up the Batcomputer. The various screens spread across the caves. Everyone’s phones somehow were affected. As well as the X-Ray machine in the med bay, which was showing a skeleton dancing.

Bruce jumped up, rage full on his face. “Who did this? Make it stop!”

No one answered, all too frozen in shock at what had happened.

“Who…” Dick whispered from beside Jason, “Who would be that brave?”

“Yeah,” Jason whispered back, “Rick Rolls were banned at the 2015 family reunion after you played it two hundred and thirteen times in a row.”

Dick grinned, “those were good times.”

The two eldest boys began to bicker, Jason complaining that Rick Rolls were a part of the war crimes banned by the Geneva Convention, and Dick saying he “liked it: so there.”

Meanwhile, the song was reaching the chorus, and the other bats finally began to react. The three girls were dancing on top of exercise equipment, popping bottles of sparkling cider - or was that champagne? For their own sakes, they should hope it’s the former - they had pulled out of what seemed to be thin air.

Damian was in the corner, trying to get Titus to dance to the music - though he glanced around every so often to make sure that no one was noticing his moment of fun.

Tim was still nursing his collection of drinks like an alcoholic nursed a bottle.

Bruce was practically foaming at the mouth by that point.

“This is NOT FUNNY!”

That, of course, made everyone just start laughing harder. In the corner, Steph started to do the macarena completely off-tempo from the music. Cass seemed to be chugging the cider that Harper was pouring into her mouth.

Just then the holographic training simulations lit up, and Rick Astly began making his way across the cave, dancing all the way.

Bruce glared up at the semi transparent form of the singer, as if trying to force him into submission.

“T-pose to assert dominance!” Jason called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Yeah, that’ll totally work, B! Trust us!” Dick called as well.

Bruce took a moment to turn his head and glare at the two former Robins, who only smiled like the angels they clearly thought they were.

The image was not aided by the two giant stuffed swordfish just pulled from Jason’s utility belt.

“En guarde!” He cried, and tossed the one in his left hand at Damian, who had been trying to reassure his dog that the giant man wasn’t real.

The thirteen year old screeched, but caught the four foot long fish by its fin.

“This is animal abuse!” He cried.

“It’s not abuse if it’s dead!” Jason countered, and attacked the youngest bat with a passion.

As the duel progressed, Cassandra tried to raise her hand and gurgle out a bet on who would win, but began to choke on the liquid.

Harper cursed as she tossed away the sixth bottle of cider and tried to give Cass the heimlich maneuver.

Dick, meanwhile, pressed a button on one of the many consoles spread around the cave, and several stripper poles came out of hidden storage via hydraulics. He grabbed the nearest one, and began to dance.

“I THOUGHT I DISABLED THOSE?!” Bruce bellowed, as Dick began a twirl.

Stephanie, however, didn’t seem nearly as dismayed at the sight of the poles. She herself smacked a button next to her, and several disco balls dropped down from among the stalactites to join the fun. She then began to morph her macarena into an epic macarena. A few flips here, and a few pantomiming choking your enemies there. And a whole lot of randomly throwing glitter bombs at, well, everywhere.

But especially at the nearest authority figure.

Damian tripped over a bucket during his fight - apparently left over from Alfred’s earlier cleaning spree - and the soapy liquid spilled across the floor.

But, of course, them being the bats, Alfred didn’t use normal soap.

Huge bubbles began to farm from the liquid, the longest almost three feet in diameter, and rise up to the cave’s ceiling. The suds spread around, eagerly began to mingle with Stephanie’s glitter.

A solitary bubble, relatively small, floated over to Bruce’s head, and popped on one of his cowl’s ears. He was not amused.

*****

Five minutes later, everyone was lined up next to the Batcomputer with heads bowed in either shame or disappointment.

Bruce walked up and down the row, the perfect imitation of a drill sergeant. His glare matched as well.

“This is an outrageous breach of protocol,” he was saying, “the Batcomputer is not a toy, nor something to use for your own amusement. It is a serious tool-”

“Then why’s it called the Batcomputer?”

Bruce froze and whirled on Dick, who had chosen that inopportune moment to speak up.

“Because you were nine years old and saying no to you would have gotten me a meltdown.”

“It seems to me, Bossman,” Stephanie began, tenting her fingers in an attempt to act serious (the effect was strange combined with her bathrobe and slippers) “That you are perfectly happy to let Dick get away with things. But in this situation, with women present, you are strangely cold. This shows blatant sexism on your part and in this essay I will-”

“That’s enough, Stephanie.” Bruce cut off as a round of snorts and giggle erupted from the group of bats.

“You do realise that no one here is going to speak, right?” Jason asked, “You did teach us to resist torture. And - pardon my french, Alfred - but you are no fucking way close to the level of torture I’ve gone through. Namely waking up to Batcow sitting on top of me.”

“Are you commenting on her weight?” Damian demanded, glaring daggers at Jason.

“I said no such thing.”

“ Boys .” Bruce demanded, rubbing his temples. “Jason is right - not about Batcow’s weight - but I’m not going to get any of you to talk willingly.” He paused and made eye contact with every single bat present, trying to reach into their souls.

“Therefore,” he continued slowly, “I’m giving you one last chance. Otherwise: No one gets cookies from Alfred for two months. ”

The shock was immediate. Alfred’s cookies, of all kinds, were worth more than gold in the Manor. The ability to not have them? And for two months? Bruce truly was a cruel hearted tyrant if he was willing to go to such lengths.

Duke gulped.

“Fine, then.” Bruce said simply when no one answered. “I guess we’ll just have to check the security footage of the Cave.”

Why didn’t Bruce think of that earlier? He clearly wasn’t trying to give the kids an easy way out.

Bruce stalked over to the computer and began to furiously type at the keys, pulling up the footage for the past few days. The group watched in a tense silence as Bruce rifled through the multiple recordings, searching for the culprit.

“AHA!” Bruce grunted, upon finding a specific time stamp. There was a figure emerging from the shadows. He paused and then slowed down the video so they could all see who it was.

There were several gasps as the figure came into the light, looked around, and made his way to the computer. They had shown their face, not even bothering to hide.

Everyone whirled to Duke, then back to the screen.

“No way,” Harper whispered under her breath.

Because the person on the footage, who was now adding the link to the case file and hooking up bluetooth speakers, was Duke Thomas himself.

Bruce’s eye twitched.

There was a general consensus among the resident vigilantes in the cave at that time: Duke wasn’t going to live to tell the tale.

Duke felt uneasy under their scrutiny, unsure of what to do. This was his plan, after all. To be seen differently. But so far the lack of accusations or uproarious debate was disconcerting.

He looked up at Bruce, awaiting his reaction. Bruce didn’t meet Duke’s eyes.

“Hrn,” he grumbled angrily instead and whirled on Tim. Said teenager was barely standing up straight - well, he was leaning on Steph heavily - and blinked wearily around the cave. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a long moment before he whipped around and furiously began to mess with the playback settings on the footage. Everyone stood still, not daring to move while Bruce grumbled under his breath.

Finally Bruce straightened and pointed dramatically toward the screen.

“There,” he grunted out, and everyone subconsciously leaned a little bit forward.

They didn’t see anything different from before, though Bruce’s finger did bring their attention to one of the bats that flew across the upper left hand corner. A few seconds of footage later, and yet another bat flew across in a similar pattern. Not exactly the same, so it wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Lord knows the bats would randomly fly out and into their hair much more than necessary.

“Note how the figure is disturbed when each bat flies across the screen,” Bruce said in the same voice he used when talking about a case - cold, impersonal, and yet like he was giving a college lecture.

No one spoke, not really sure what to say. I mean, what was the correct course of action when your father figure suddenly refuses to accept reality, and is grasping at the most unlikely of straws?

“I know this technique anywhere,” Bruce said more to himself than the line of vigilantes. He turned, completely passing over Duke, and set his sights on Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake,” Bruce growled, stalking forward, “What possessed you to doctor this footage?”

Tim didn’t respond, only mumbled incoherently and leaned onto Steph some more.

Bruce was furious, bearing his teeth as he spat out his response: “Now is not the time to use the anti-torture training I’ve given you.”

Tim nodded slowly and draped his arm on top of Stephanie’s head.

“You should know better than this,” Bruce began, “pranks are strictly forbidden in the cave, as you very well know. And in addition, I taught you better at framing than this. You choose a victim that could actually be considered as a suspect. Trying to pin the blame on Duke was your undoing - he would never do something like this.”

Duke cringed slightly, as the rest of the bats glanced Duke’s way. All were a mix of confusion and awe.

This … was not how this was supposed to go. No, screw that. That was an outrageous understatement. Things ‘not going according to plan’ would have been Jason randomly blaming Harper for the mess on no grounds - or maybe Bruce not bothering to check the cameras, opting instead to just ground everyone.

But blatantly ignoring evidence and then lecturing someone completely unrelated? No, this was too much. It couldn’t be real. This was some kind of scare-tactic wasn’t it? Duke was too much of an adrenaline junkie to be bothered by the usual ‘hanging upside down over a busy road’ schtick.

But then Bruce moves on to possible culprits Tim could have chosen instead - did he seriously think that Ra’s Al Ghul would Rick Roll them?! - and Duke lost hope.

“Uhh, Bruce?” Duke asked after the ten minute mark.

The Dark Knight turned and faced Duke.

Duke scratched the back of his neck. “Do you think I could head out for patrol now? It’s getting light out, and since you’ve clearly got this covered… I thought I could scoot out?”

Bruce was nodding before the end of Duke’s request. “Yes, go. I’ll deal with Tim. You don’t need to worry - you won’t be blamed. It clearly wasn’t your fault.”

Duke nodded slowly, and covered his disappointment with a small smirk. “Thanks, B.”

He jogged over to the edge of the platform and dropped down beside his Signal-Cycle. A routine mounting, a quick putting on of his helmet, and he was off.

Duke was scowling as he left, wondering what on earth had gone wrong.

*****

“Did you see that smirk?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Did he blame Tim on purpose?”

“How, though? To make such a tactical move -”

“It would have taken a shit ton of planning.”

“Can we get back on the fact that Bruce was fooled?”

“Or who fooled him?!”

[loyally-unfaithful]

desolation!au (lunatic!kaede au)

summary: in canon, kotetsu manages to restore barnaby's memory at the last second, but what if it didn't work? what if kaede ex machina never got the chance to save her father at the top of the apollon media tower and restore the other heroes' memories? in fact, what if she never knew they were being brainwashed in the first place?what if kotetsu died that day?

basically me developing my idea of an au where, consumed by anger and grief, kaede seeks lunatic to help her in carrying her revenge and murdering her father's killer.

illustration of lunatic!kaede is attached at the very end of the fic :3

a/n: tbh, i was watching tiger & bunny w/ my friends and at some point i thought about kaede being lunatic's student because i just want to see her start shit and it wasn't anything much at first, just small headcanons here and little doodles there. but then idk , i made a little sketch and it all snowballed from there.

i ended up developing this au and have become quite invested in it.  

i’m aware the format looks like cat shit on mobile, im sorry. if it’s super disruptive to the reading experience, feel free to refer to the ao3 version (links are in my desc).

alternate names lmao

lunatic!kaede! au

cats-on-the-moon!au

revenge girl!au

revenge-girl-out-for-revenge!au

vendetta! au

synopsis

follows the same storyline up until the memory loss arc, where the au experiences a massive canon divergence.

kotetsu receives a chance to escape after being aided by lunatic, and, not letting his unsuccessful attempt at making his friends remember his true identity deter him, he gathered them at the top of the apollon media tower. he tries again to make them remember that he is wild tiger, and not a murderer, but much like in canon the rest of the group do not believe him—though some falter briefly. unlike canon, however, is that kaede ex machina does not appear in time to unleash maverick’s next power that she copied to restore everyone’s memories.

she does make an attempt to reach the tower where her father is taking a stand, but she does not encounter maverick and on her way up the roof the elevator stops—as it should during emergencies... without her interference, the rest of the hero team overpower kotetsu who is smashed through the roof and lands into saito’s lab. realising that the latter doesn’t remember who he was either, kotetsu quickly grabs his suit and motorbike to try to escape and regroup with ben. the rest of the heroes rush to go after him, though some (blue rose, etc) are more hesitant than others (rock bison, etc). on the way down they [the heroes] find kaede and become preoccupied with her. they’re experiencing an emergency but the child refuses to leave, so some of the heroes have their hands full handling her.

during this, the cameras continue to follow kotetsu. in the end, barnaby pursues kotetsu on his own vehicle and they fight at the bridge where they first teamed up. kaede can follow what is currently happening as the event is broadcasted and grows increasingly hysterical, screaming that she needs to be there and that they’re [blue rose, sky high, etc] supposed to be helping her dad, not pursue him. at some point before the final blow, the feed cuts—the camera probably got hit by chunks of armour or other sort of debris.

the fight follows canon up until barnaby intends on delivering the final kick

« so this is it, eh? take care lil’ bunny…»

this time, the kick connects.

at this point kaede is inconsolable, not being able to handle the fact that the broadcast cut and she can’t check her father’s condition in real time anymore. the heroes’ attempt at getting her to speak or to tell them who her guardian is is met with choked sobs and no response.

there’s two way i see her finding out about her father’s defeat, and subsequent death:

the least traumatic, but still traumatic option: the feed was the last time she ever saw her father. the heroes only hear that « the criminal has been captured/dealt with by barnaby » on their private channel so they slowly excuse themselves and disperse, leaving kaede alone. some of the security guards approach her, trying to get a number to contact but eventually learn that she wasn’t speaking and let her sit there for a bit before calling the authorities.

the intensely traumatic “whoa you ruined a perfectly good 10-11 year old” option: as kaede grows increasingly distressed and the heroes try to keep her under control, she sees members of staff trying to cart something off discreetly. she gets a quick glance on what is being carried and recognises the hand poking out under the large tarp covering the rest of the body. it had her father’s wedding band, which he continued to wear, and upon realising what had happened, she immediately goes catatonic and wouldn’t react to the heroes anymore.

she either sits in the empty building until very late at night, sits outside on the bus stop with no intention of getting on simply watching the last of the buses disappear in the horizon, or waits at the police station with no intention of telling them who to call.

she eventually reaches the conclusion that her father will probably never come back as he died on her own and breaks down.

much like option 1) she sits in the empty building, waiting for someone who will never return.

in both options, ben ex machina (yes kaede got demoted in this au im sorry) finds her and explains to her that he was her father’s boss. this gained her attention somewhat, and she let him drive her back home after he told her that her grandmother has been frantically contacting ben after realising that kaede wouldn’t pick up.

during all this, she remains silent and out of it, still not fully accepting that her father wasn’t coming back home: kaede knows it’s no use to wait for her father anymore, but doesn’t outwardly admit the fact just in case he really is alive. she knows she’s just lying to herself.

on their way back to the kaburagi home, ben explains to her that he tried to get on that bridge as fast as possible to intercept the two, but only arrived after barnaby had left the scene. he doesn’t go into much detail, but does give her the few things he had found and recognised was kotetsu’s:

the tiger emblem that he kept this whole time

the two matching christmas pins that (unknowingly to both ben and kaede) he shared with his former partner

the first sound kaede makes in a long time is more wracking sobs as she clutches the small objects.

she passes out sometimes during transit, and wakes up the next afternoon in her room, the memorabilia safe in her pocket.

the next day, hero tv, and the organisations that funds it, refuses to make an official statement on kotetsu’s whereabouts after being intercepted by barnaby—they know that the latter murdered kotetsu, but they avoid the question in order to save his and the company’s reputation. they would answer something like:

kotetsu running away

being imprisoned for 250 years, with no visitors.

accidentally got himself killed

for the most part, the general populace accepted this outcome and thanked the diligent work of the heroes, but kaede and her family know better. kotetsu wasn’t the type to just leave, and he wouldn’t have committed murder in the first place. this official statement further cemented the fact that kotetsu had died—been killed. within sternbild, another powerful figure also doubted the credibility of the statement. yuri would literally see the red flags, but the situation really isn’t in his favour and he doesn’t know where to even tackle this. he’d need to do more digging up before planning out his attack.

kaede concludes (correctly) that barnaby was behind her father’s death, and possessed with anger and hatred, decided that she will get revenge one way or another and prove her father’s innocence.

basic plot

headcanon form now, because it’s more convenient.

the lead-up:

during the few days/weeks that followed, she barely went out of her room unless necessary. 

she barely ate, even ignoring the flan pudding she adored so much. 

in her self-imposed isolation, she marinates in her own grief, which turns into anger and hatred. 

at first she regrets not having spent more time with her father and reaching out to him, instead of expecting kotetsu to do that for her. 

but the focus slowly shifts to wanting to make kotetsu’s murderer suffer as he has made her dad suffer. 

you know what, throw in the rest of the heroes. 

they should’ve been kotetsu’s friend and believed him instead of pursuing him relentlessly: they’re complicit too and should be punished accordingly.

it’s important to note that, since kaede didn’t interact with maverick and inherit his next power, she doesn’t know that the heroes have been brainwashed. 

she just thinks that they’re secretly an evil group posing to be heroes.

she loses faith in them, and their flawed justice that got her father killed

she wants to avenge her father and prove his innocence so badly, but doesn’t know how or where to begin. the odds are stacked against her, since only her family and a few people here and there believe in kotetsu’s innocence.

while she’s holed up in her room, she mindlessly replays the video clips that featured her dad over and over again until she memorised every single word and committed her father’s movements to memory. 

one day, as she flips through the different collectibles and magazines that featured him, she came across one such issue which showcased a different type of “hero”: the sanctioner with blue flames.

the vigilante who’s idea of justice was becoming more and more appealing to kaede the more she thought about it.

she’s seen the clips, how his next power allowed him to continually keep up with the 100 power duo. how it always allowed him to have the upper hand and to deliver his justice. 

kaede wants that kind of strength, that kind of power, to avenge her father.

she resolves herself to find or contact the vigilante no matter how, though that seemed to be a complicated enough task in and of itself.

kaede figures that when she does find him, she’ll either get him to work with her to get her revenge or copy his power if he refuses.

her searches prove more or less fruitless tho since lunatic can't be found when he doesn't want to be found lmao

after a few weeks/months, she grows disheartened and becomes rather depressed again.

the actual encounter:

i don’t have an actually have a concrete idea on how they met and how kaede convinced yuri to work with her, just a bunch of possibilities going from plausible to straight up crack

one way she could meet him is by bumping into judge petrov when she’s tagging along with her fam to try and claim kotetsu’s body.

the intent was to go to sternbild to recover kotetsu so that they can bury him in the family grave (and rejoin tomoe), but since the city refuses to acknowledge that kotetsu is dead and admit that a hero killed a person, the kaburagi fam can’t get his body back.

very sad times, maybe after the unsuccessful hearing kaede cries and rlly begs to be able to get her father back, and grabs hold of yuri to make her point come across or something.

do you even see a judge when you try to claim a criminal’s body? idk it’s probably illegal to make physical contact w a judge but kaede is only bby so maybe she won't go to jail? i don’t know i’m dum

anyway, he’d probably carefully peel the child off of him and say something vaguely sympathetic before going wherever the hell judges go after trial? court? i know nothing about the legal system and it shows

uh oh skin to skin contact

kaede unwittingly copies his power and moves on with her day. it wasn’t until she came home and felt a burst of anger that she noticed that??? she can summon blue flames??? like lunatic does??? except she doesn’t recall meeting him at all???

she puts two and two together and susses yuri out

or instead of literally harassing him in court

maybe she just stumbles on lunatic because his favourite hobbies are standing ominously on roofs and killing murderers, in that order.

kaede: why is there a funny looking scarecrow on the roof…???

kaede: hoLY HECK

how she manages to get lunatic on her side is more convoluted

one way would be her going back to the city and confronting yuri about it. of course, he’d deny her claim until she gets angry enough and her eyes light up. 

yuri’s like “oh sHIT”. 

she could threaten him by saying that if he won’t help her then she will just seek her revenge by herself. 

yuri doesn’t want her to do anything rash and cause him to get in hot water because he rlly doesn't want to deal w/ the aftermath. also he doesn’t want to like, see a whole child get hurt :(

so i guess he’s like, “this is my lot in life now”, and accepts to take her as his apprentice so long as she doesn’t cause any trouble

that was the peaceful route

kaede could also fight fire with fire

just hound down lunatic instead of yuri and when she finds him it’s on sight. chuck a whole fireball to catch his attention and demand that he takes her as his apprentice. idk maybe threaten to fight him mono e mono unless he complies. 

lunatic would probably just ghost her lmao 

but she’d continue to show up whenever he’s raring to kill a murderer so maybe he’ll accept because it’s getting more disruptive if he doesn’t

if anything, her persistence would impress him somewhat: she’s determined, and even when she’s only had the flames for like, what? 3 days? she can already control it well enough to shoot projectiles. she has potential and would be a helpful ally instead of burdening him.

the chaotic crackhead route is for kaede to somehow get her hands on yuri’s address and bully him until he listens to her

just show up outside his room at 3 am, eyes glowing, floating 3 feet from the ground. hell, t-pose outside his window. 

terrorise him.

she’d play loud music or shout at him day in day out 

she may even follow him to work and just pester him

constantly asking him to mentor her so she can have her revenge, poking and prodding about his secret night job as lunatic

kaede will leave mama petrov alone this doesn’t concern her

her beef isn’t w mama petrov

ever since that encounter, yuri has not known peace

yuri has 2 ghosts to deal with 

that’s 2 too many

he’s gonna take one out

the minimum age of criminal responsibility in japan is 14, while in new york it’s 18 (thanks google)

take your pick

kaede is 10-11

so either way yuri can’t take her to jail for harassment 

she’s coming out of this scott free

he snaps and literally begs her to stfu if he follows her wish :b:lease

he hasn’t slept for 34 days

regardless, kaede will come out victorious and yuri is now stuck with a child 

on a more serious note, yuri’s and kaede’s agenda are the same and it just so happens that their goals align. he has been suss since day one ever since the kotetsu debacle.

in hindsight maverick really should’ve brainwashed the only judge, the person in charge of the justice bureau, the curator who has access to the hero’s files

maybe i’m jumping to conclusion

for all i know maybe maverick also attempted to invite yuri to that announcement “party” thing

but yuri was like 

« no ? fuck off »

and went on his way

yuri wants to look oddly menacing in his basement dungeon thing 

and maverick brushed it off because he didn’t think yuri was lunatic, or a next one the first place

we know that yuri learns that maverick is behind all of this and is probably a next on his own, but decides against taking action. i suppose in canon because he knows it’s not his battle to see through, but in the au maybe because he knows he’s fighting a losing battle. also he kinda injured his arm after being shot by H-01, so he doesn’t want to fight with a handicap.

he doesn’t want to take any rash action and cause more problems for himself.

potentially putting his whole secret identity scheme in jeopardy.

he chooses to take a moment to regroup and plan his actual attack. he couldn’t take on 7 heroes and 1 android at once, and risk getting brainwashed too.

at first, even if working together seem to only benefit kaede, the situation also gives yuri some strategic advantages. 

like once he finds out that kaede’s power is a mimic ability, not the flame ability. i feel like he’d find that hella useful

also kaede is a child who’s also basically a nobody in sternbild. she can infiltrate spaces he can’t, and not raise any suspicion.

  possible denouements:

i see 3 major endings possible, with secondary endings which is just a one of the 3 major endings with some slight changes:

1. all sinners must die ending

pretty self explanatory. kaede gets her revenge: with the help of lunatic she kills barnaby and maverick, potentially killing or maiming the rest of the heroes. her father has been avenged, but the city is more or less in a panic because there are no more heroes to protect them. “faith” in the vigilante, or at least in kaede, plummets because they attacked “innocent” people. it’s possible that she brings her father’s framing to light (but not that the heroes were brainwashed), though it’s doubtful that she gets the chance after causing such an uproar.

kaede probably never learns the truth: that the heroes were brainwashed.

this may or may not leave kaede incredibly bitter and nihilistic, as even though she got her revenge she doesn’t feel any satisfaction or sense of closure. she doesn’t get any form of catharsis and probably still has a difficult time moving on and coping with her grief. the city of sternbild adopts a very cold atmosphere and regains a strong distrust towards nexts, kaede may or may not continue to be a vigilante as she’s still trapped in grief limbo, yuri has to deal with the messy aftermath.

overall, it’s probably the worst possible ending.

of schemes and double agents ending

a kinda slow burn route, i suppose? in this ending, kaede realises that the heroes are being manipulated unlike in the previous one. she decides to restore the hero’s memories one by one and getting them to secretly help her. i don’t think she could recruit everyone, but i’m thinking about those like blue rose, who seemed to remember somewhat after kotetsu’s speech thing. kaede could slowly remind them, and despite initial mistrust and animosity they would come round and realise there was a huge discrepancy in their memory.

outright rebelling against maverick would be rash and the heroes risk being brainwashed once more, so they figure they would pull the strings somewhat and provide kaede/lunatic with internal knowledge to help them.

in the epic showdownTM, when the heroes and kaede finally have a face off, barnaby (and those who weren’t approached by kaede) would experience quite a curveball: those who regained their memories would side with kaede.

safety in solitude ending

in this ending, kaede works alone (with lunatic) without having recruited the other heroes even after realising they’ve been brainwashed. perhaps because it’d be too risky just in case they get brainwashed again or that they don’t agree with the vigilante’s idea and rat them out, whatever the reason may be the duo works alone.

this will lead into an even more epic showdownTM where it’s 2 v. 8: even though the stakes are not in the duo’s favour they somehow manage to come triumphant? or maybe the heroes regain their memories one by one and decide to stop fighting, even though they don’t exactly join the duo’s side.

constants:

maverick dies. lunatic kills him. i doubt many are against the idea though.

barnaby’s memories would be the last one she “restores”: (courtesy of my friend) it would probably go something like, in a burst of anger she jumps him and gets his hundred power. as she punches at him, she tearfully confronts him about how her father must’ve felt in his last moments and how much kotetsu seemed to adore him back when he was alive.

if bunny dies (ending 2/ending 3) kaede would not feel as angry and cynical, but more regretful or grievous. she’d probably stop using her next powers to do much anything (instead of continuing to be a vigilante like in ending 1). she’ll move on eventually, with more than less difficulty. the city of sternbild is on edge, but continue to place their faith on heroes.

if bunny lives (ending 2/ending 3), kaede would get a stronger sense of closure as she would be able to dialogue with bunny. barnaby would however, feel unending grief once he realises what he has done. 

regardless if bunny is dead or not, the truth is revealed to the general public along with maverick’s scheme and true intent in ending 2 and 3. so basically canon episode 25 ending except more angst and kotetsu is dead a while ago

not a constant… but it’s possible that because of lunatic’s whole code being “kill murderers and those who protect them” he’d be displeased with kaede choosing to spare bunny. maybe he’s the last boss… kaede and bunny defeat lunatic with 100 power, much like barnaby used to do with kotetsu?... nah that’s too messy and honestly i prefer lunatic and kaede to remain on peaceful terms lmao

lunatic’s satisfied with killing maverick, he’ll back off of this one—barnaby was manipulated anyway. so technically... it wasn’t his conscious decision nor his fault???

basically i don’t want kaede to fight her mentor figure, but i’m merely acknowledging the possibility.

actually…

maybe he walks up towards barnaby, the other heroes too beat up to do anything but watch while kaede remains by barnaby’s side

and lunatic just stands ominously in front of bunny, looking like he’s about to shoot him

but then he turns away

« hmph, how ridiculous. repent for the rest of your life, barnaby brooks jr. »

and then lunatic disappears in a flash, leaving a singed mark—the only proof that he had stood there.

heck, remember how she recovered the christmas pins? she could chuck those angrily at barnaby’s general direction to put emphasis.

kaede knows she’ll never be able to bring her father back, but she’d manage her grief easier. if barnaby lives, kaede would probably become a hero to honor her father and to use her power for good as her father would’ve wanted her to do.

miscellaneous

headcanons in no particular order, certainly not chronological. crack, fluff, angst, just whatever comes to mind. for ease of reading, i will try to organise them thematically.

relationships

tiger x bunny

rest in peace king, you will be missed.

kotetsu ded so the gay cannot be, rip in species.

but i’m putting this here because prior to the brainwashing they do be kinda gay tho, and even if kaede doesn’t know the exact nature of the relationship between the two she knows that her father was very fond of barnaby and cared for him deeply.

lunatic | yuri petrov & kaede

this au is pretty lunatic & kaede centric, because well,,, kotetsu kicked the bucket, and barnaby and the heroes are considered the villains here

i see lunatic and kaede having a mentor-student kind of relationship, that can be fluffy sometimes a found family trope could eventually be established, but that’s super delicate

on another note, if you really want to fuck up your 11 year old because you absolutely want to give kaede the worst possible outcomes for some reason, she could—as a young child who has lost both her parents at a very young age—develop an unhealthy dependence on this [lunatic] new authority figure. she might incorrectly interpret his concern for familial care, etc… but i’m not even going there, that’s too messy.

tbh the real tragedy would be kaede imprinting on yuri’s garbage sense of fashion… the secret to dressing well died with kotetsu.

idk if i should explicit this, but just in case: this is not a romantic ship please don’t come for my throat. literally this au was created because i wanted to see kaede start shit—just go absolutely feral and start chaos lmao

i would like snapshots of him teaching her how to control the flames better but also look out for her general well being because this kid has issues. basically give me a montage of yuri mentoring kaede and slowly becoming fond of her or give me death:

lunatic probably made his own costume so? i’d like to imagine yuri takes the time to make one for kaede too?? also he makes sure it wooshes cool in the wind and idk, flammable enough to allow her to burn the cape off before she attacks???

just yuri hand sewing some apparels for kaede uwu

also give me vaguely domestic yuri or give me death

also mayhaps, gives kaede affirming headpats?

like if she performs well and her mastery over her powers improves in leaps and bounds? or when she finally unlocks a skill she’s been struggling with for a bit?? just a proud head pat and a well-intentioned-but-cold-sounding « well done »???

maybe when kaede first actually learns how to use her powers, her emotions might get the best of her or maybe she’s plain nervous because fire = danger and scary. 

and it shows because the flames grow more erratic and out of her control, and yuri grows very concerned for her well being because he doesn’t want her to get burnt like he did when he first awakened his power.

before it all degenerates, he helps calm her down and prevent his house from burning down. or wherever he goes to when he’s doing lunatic stuff…

a dungeon ?

his basement ?

my basement don’t look like that

we know where all the judge money is going: renovating the basement

much like her mentor, when she gets rlly angry her eyes burst into flames. to prevent her from getting into trouble by accidentally activating her power and injuring someone or simply revealing her identity, yuri would teach her grounding exercises or anchoring phrases that he himself uses.

idk just teach her breathing techniques to ease her anxiety or a mantra to recite if she feels like she’s gonna set someone on fire

also idk if i should give kaede a different weapon from lunatic (i know i will because the crossbow is lunatic’s aesthetic, and his only), but i like to imagine yuri teaching her how to shoot crossbows and her becoming oddly proficient at it

grandma kaburagi wondering why kaede has wicked aim all of the sudden

tbh kaede would just shoot w her hands. just pew pew finger. 

or she does the kamehameha thing she did w blue rose’s power lmao

at first he kinda sees being responsible for her as a bit of a chore and annoying, but maybe he slowly grows fond of her and idk, dotes on her. 

protecc the bby

help her do her homework

« i’ve only had kaede for a day and a half. but if anything happened to her, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself. »

on the flipside, at first kaede thought that yuri is hecking weird, man. just creepy suspicious prosecutor dude who she allies with because revenge girl rlly wants revenge

but he grows on her and kaede thinks he’s not so bad after all. an good authority figure whom she respects and cares for 

she still probably thinks he’s hella weird tho

kinda weird but also sometimes kinda cool 

eccentric but like in a good way

like your weird neighbour henry who means well despite what he says sometimes 

kaede would learn his corny cool catchphrases and repeat them when she’s out and about as a vigilante. 

just adopt/mimic his speech pattern of saying things slowly for more oomph

gotta do the whole code of justice and thanatos speech before she bombards barnaby with flaming arrows

yuri feels oddly proud

they’re both probably hella protective over each other tho. because that’s just kaede’s personality and yuri feels responsible for the safety of this child that he has been entrusted with.

children love sweets right? yuri secretly likes sweets. they can share sweets after setting murderers on fire uwu

idk man i just want some good mentor-apprentice relationship

it doesn’t have to always be angst

we can have fluff

maybe they can learn from each other and be semi-functional human beings 

that thing where the apprentice’s outfit is like directly taken from their mentor’s but also vaguely different. i want that.

sometimes the real revenge is the friends you make along the way uwu

  school + domestic life

ok so like

kaede gets big depressed because duh your dad just got murdered by his partner 

and she rlly misses him and wished she was more understanding back then. she wished she spent more time w him back when he was alive

but it’s too late now and that makes her big depressed

so i feel like for the first few weeks/months after her father’s death, kaede wouldn’t go to school?? and i feel like her grandmother would understand and just like

not pester her about it and let her sort out her emotions first before talking to kaede about the elephant in the room

but also like, the school board also agrees to wait it out because the parents are kinda iffy about what has transpired

to be fair, oriental town is probably one of those small towns where everyone knows each other? so the parents/adults who know kotetsu are like??? kotetsu wouldn’t kill a person??

but the children who are more connected to the media and don’t know him personally believe that kotetsu murdered someone and deserved to be “arrested”? because why would you doubt hero tv and the heroes, they’re the good guys after all.

so when kaede found it within herself to finally go back to school, she has a rude awakening and learns that words travel fast in a small community

the other kids, not knowing any better, believed that kotetsu is a criminal w their whole chest and started all kinds of rumours on kaede

when she went to class she was greeted w her desk being pushed far away from the rest of the class, the other students steering clear from her

all sorts of nasty things were carved/marked with a sharpie on her locker and table—some others stuck paper with w the word “murderer” on it

kaede lost most of her friends and the rest of the classmates avoided her like the plague as they say vile things about her and her father

« look she’s back »

they don’t even try to hide the fact or bother to mask their voice and speak in a hushed whisper. 

« they said her father killed someone, who knows what she could do »

so kaede hears everything.

« don’t get close to her, or we might end up finding your body in a ditch »

kaede doesn’t follow through, but sometimes she thinks about running away from school to escape the bullying.

« come to think of it, she was always weird wasn’t she? she’s so creepy! »

maybe at some point it gets so disruptive that kaede can’t have a functional or healthy school life due to the constant harassment and alienation, so the school board agreed to let kaede do the rest of the year through online classes or homeschooling

in a way this works out very well for kaede, because it allows her more freetime to do vigilante stuff and she gets to avoid people’s gaze. 

she’s grown to dislike them, the scornful gaze of her peers and the pity from the adults.

the student’s parents always come to apologise to her, but for some reason their pity infuriates her to no end.

sadly this means that kaede isn’t as cheerful as before and becomes more closed off and reserved :(

kaede would continue to do ice skating tho

because it’s her passion

but also because she’s obstinate like that

« oh the others don’t want me here? they hate me?? they think i don’t belong on the ice??? they can go stick it, i’m gonna be amazing out of spite! »

at home kaede becomes even more protective over her grandmother, as seeing as she’s being homeschooled means she gets to spend more time w her and help her out with the housework

idk the blue flames could be handy for doing housework

oh the stove won’t light up? oh you’re gonna go get a different lighter? nice this is a convenient time to use my next power to spark the stove! when grandma is back kaede is just like « look i got it to light up, guess u didn’t have to go through all that trouble huh? » :D

since the fire doesn’t burn indiscriminately, could she, theoretically, control the heat/where it burns to make laundry dry faster???

kaede nearly gets a heart attack seeing the new scarecrow for grandma’s cabbage patch, but turns out she just found kaede’s vigilante costume laying around and didn’t think twice about it 

bonus points of grandma uses lunatic himself as a scarecrow

lunatic would make an incredible scarecrow fight me

despite not being able to retrieve kotetsu’s body to bury him with tomoe, kaede often visits their family grave and the shrine in kotetsu’s room and bring them flowers. 

she knows she’s just talking to air, but she likes to recount her day to her parents. about whatever she’s up to, and keeping them updated on everyone’s condition: grandma and uncle are doing well. grandma is still healthy thank god, while uncle sometimes like to joke about how his store is terribly quiet now without kotetsu around.

she tells them the whole truth, how she found lunatic and was going to avenge her father. that she was going to prove his innocence to everyone, if it was the last thing she’ll ever do.

in a bittersweet way, it comforts her somewhat that her father is finally with his wife again and that they’re both watching over her.

  of next powers and secret identities

to this day, kaede is the only one who knows about yuri’s secret identity

they’re both complicit in this secret matter

schemes 

this continues even after the endings 

even if she became a hero she’d refuse to reveal lunatic’s real identity

it’s a matter of principle

she will always hold a great deal of respect for her mentor 

schemes

on another note, i’m fixing kaede’s next power because it’s too broken and is kinda inconvenient lmao: in this au she needs actual skin-to-skin contact to assimilate someone else’s next power, so if the individual is wearing gloves or touching clothes it won’t work.

adding on to this, kaede starts wearing gloves when she’s up and about so that she can limit the amount of nexts she may unknowingly make contact with and keep her current ability [blue fire].

the power would be super useful tho. like you can make yourself disappear into a puff of flames,,, so theoretically if kaede finds herself in a situation she’d rather not be in she can just ghost you irl

« y’all ugly. boom. »

remember how kaede’s room is filled to the brim w barnaby merch???

great for target practice and for letting out your anger

also to dramatically scribble out the eyes in black sharpie to get the revenge girl aesthetic 

oh man she’ll probably be sad that she snipped her father off from that one picture with barnaby 

in that regard her attitude towards bunny will take a complete 180

she used to think the world of him, but now all she thinks about is crushing him under her heel

also, i know she’d imitate lunatic’s whole speech thing, but what if she repeated her father’s catchphrase to provoke barnaby?

also in homage of her dad ofc

« it’s time to let out a wild roar! »

*strikes pose*

*angery barnaby noises*

what if as time goes on it gets increasingly harder and harder to hide the fact that kaede is a vigilante. 

like at first, her family is like “oh she’s grieving in her own way, let’s give her some space” and they’re surprised by how well kaede is taking it because she’s so calm, even if she’s more distant 

while kaede sneaks out at night to start shit

and her grandmother starts to notice how she seems more alert and jumpy, or sleep deprived. how kaede seemed to be hiding bruises and injuries, and tries to clean her wounds herself late at night. 

when asked kaede would deny everything and say she doesn’t use her next powers anymore because it freaks her out

but grandma is suss

she concerned for her granddaughter

maybe she doesn’t know about kaede’s secret identity but maybe she finds out she’s been meeting with yuri

a grandma beats up a man in his late 20s-mid 30s on live television 

maybe at some point the heroes learn kaede’s real age, or assume correctly that she’s barely a teen and they’re like

is lunatic forcing you to do this ?

you don’t have to do something you don’t want to

it’s not too late for you if you give up

when rlly this was all kaede’s choice in the first place, not even lunatic’s

and that assumption rlly makes kaede angry, because their inactivity led to her father’s death and forced her hands

so it’s not their place to act like they’re concerned for her and her safety

just rlly distrust and dislike the heroes 

has a strong disdain for them

real talk, but kaede doesn’t know that the heroes were brainwashed. that’s why she’s able to be so ruthless against them, because she thinks they’re evil and working for some big conspiracy while playing a helpful and friendly front.

but when/if she does learn the truth? the kotetsu factor jumps out.

they aren’t acting as if they were the good guys, they rlly think that they are because to them they just took out another criminal and not their longtime friend.

she’ll have an inner conflict. because on one hand, the heroes don’t know any better and are being manipulated so it would be cruel to punish them so harshly. on the other hand, they got her dad killed and for that she wants to inflict them as much pain and grief as they have caused her.

the kotetsu factor would keep her going tho. now she’s determined to not only clear her father’s name, but also restore everyone’s memory, because it’s the right thing to do.

but now everytime she has to face them and fight, she feels a slight hesitancy and feels sorry for them.

mayhaps blue rose as double agent ???

origami got big double agent potential, but he wasn’t having any of kotetsu’s shit so alas

another important character we gotta talk about: h-01

hear me out

so the android isn’t built with a voice box so it can’t speak. it don’t got any acoustics. but because of maverick’s brainwashing, when the heroes talk to the empty air they hear “tiger’s” response, which is purely borne from their own psychosis.

h-01: …

barnaby: perfect idea tiger, you can cover me

or

rock bison: who is that guy?

h-01: …

rock bison: yeah they look very suspicious to me too…

or

or

h-01: …

barnaby: i know!

anyway, it’s very weird and surreal to watch

just the heroes having a very one sided conversation

lunatic and kaede don’t know what to make of it and finds it really bizarre, because they know the android isn’t saying anything at all

yet the heroes are convinced he’s communicating with them

so maybe if kaede manages to restore someone’s memory, they start to notice that “tiger” doesn’t actually talk. he never did this whole time.

and it gets hard to come up with a response and pretend he answered them. 

the restored heroes also find it super creepy how it’s just silent and watching, how the others seem to think that the robot can speak.

maybe this will cause some suspicion amongst the heroes (who will brush it off) and maverick, and the restored hero will have to pretend to still be brainwashed to not get manipulated a second time

basically h-01 is creepy and just generally not fun to be around

illustration

edit: thank you @kyarymell​ for cleaning the sketch up on photoshop ;w;

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[asphalt-cocktail]

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Pseudonym: Sugar

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! I’m so happy with the reception I've gotten with my fic! I’m really excited with what I have written out so far and I’m really happy seeing everyone enjoying what I have written, i have big plans for this little cutie. Not a lot is going to happen during these first few chapters other than establishing the foundation because it is a slow burn, but don’t worry, once we get there it’ll be like a fucking avalanche of chaos. My tag list is open, so if you are interested feel free to send me an ask! I will be reblogging with my taglist and links to the previous chapter, so please be patient with me!

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, masturbation, some friendly banter between roger and reader, not proof read, short chapter but don’t worry it gets better.

Word Count: 1.7k

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

It was your first night living with Roger and you were secretly thankful he was busy with a gig which allowed you to unpack your things in peace. He made it very clear that you were to stick your side of the apartment, i.e. your room, and not ruin the ‘aesthetic’ he had worked so hard for his apartment to have. It disappointed you to say the least, considering your only qualm with the apartment was the hideous wood paneling that made up the walls of the living room. It looked like a scene straight out of a 1970s porno.

The later it got the more you progressed in unpacking what little boxes you had and the closer it got to Roger coming home. You finished with what you decided would be the last box of the night and now laid in your bed, door closed, your colored LED lights dimly lighting your room a deep red color.

Your frowned going through your emails and reading rejection letter after rejection letter from the jobs you had applied for. You were thankful you were quite the penny pincher and were able to survive to for at least a month, but the dread still loomed over you like a dark cloud.

Your mind drifted to Freddie’s suggestion from earlier that week, “Try camming, love, it’s all the rage right now!” his loud voice echoed in your mind until you finally caved and grabbed your phone typing in your search engine how to be a camgirl.

Several articles popped up;

How to Become a Cam Girl

TIPS FOR BECOMING A CAM GIRL & HOW I DID IT

Camming on a Limited Budget?

You sighed, your eyes felt strained from reading article after article. You’d seen several reoccurring websites, the two most popular being Twitter, Snapchat, and some live stream sight called WatchMe. Skepticism filled your brain, why would people be so into buying nudes from people or watching them masturbate on camera when they could do it for free on some porn site?

The sense of intimacy that one got, anonymity, and personal interactions with some who was literally paid to be nice to you over ruled the financial aspect.

The financial aspect also caused you to throw what little shame you had left out the window and soon you found yourself impulsively signing up for all three sights starting first with WatchMe. You pursed your lips when you found yourself being prompted to enter your name, what the hell would you put? You certainly couldn’t put your real name, could you? No, you couldn’t. You found yourself smiling while entering Sugar into the name space.

The application process was surprisingly long and bureaucratic, but it was probably good they had you submit a picture of your license twice, once just on its own, and once next to your face just to confirm you were of legal age. The only downside was that it would be a three day wait for the information to be processed.

You scrolled through your imaged looking for some pictures or videos to put on your premium snapchat, but much to your dismay you found that you had a few vanilla nudes taken ages ago back when your and Harrison’s relationship was still young and romantic, but not much else. You reluctantly got out of bed and rummaged through your underwear drawer, picking through your cotton granny panties you wore when your period made you bloated and finally found a black lacy pair of panties that had a matching black lacy balconette bra that pushed your breasts together giving you the perfect amount of cleavage.

You put it on and stood in front of your full-length mirror, it had been ages since you’d last put on lingerie. It felt nice to put it on for yourself and not for someone else; you twisted in the mirror, observing how the lace delicately cupped your cheeks and hugged your hips perfectly. You chewed on your bottom lip and posed, kneeling in front of the mirror, your legs spread and your back arched to give your chest a little extra pop while you positioned your phone over your face and clicked a few pictures.

The red lighting in your room caused a complimentary glow against your skin, showering you in red light and somehow making your images look more erotic. You smiled a bit to yourself, you looked hot!

Our relationship is boring

The word hammered against your mind, causing you to frown and your brows to knit together in frustration.

You were NOT boring, did boring people take pictures of themselves to sell to other people? No.

You found yourself getting hot with frustration and strangely enough, arousal. You didn’t know if it was from how you were dressed working in tandem with the lighting or if it was your pent-up frustration from not having a proper orgasm in so long, but you soon found your hand traveling south while you remained kneeling in front of the mirror. Before you began you carefully positioned your phone, just enough to keep your face out of the picture and rubbed your thighs, leaving teasing touches around the band of your panties.

Your chest heaved with anticipation, you didn’t know why but the fact that you were being videotaped added a feeling of naughtiness to your actions. You gave your slit a teasing rub, your hips twitching at the sudden pressure before your fingers harshly rubbed yourself. The rough fabric of the lace adding an additional tingle to the pleasure that shot through you. You moaned, leaning back ever so slightly to angle yourself and rubbed yourself through your panties, strumming harshly at your clit.

“Ah, fuck.” You whined, reaching up with your free hand and kneading your breasts, pulling your bra down and allowing them to freely spill over. Your nipples reacted to the cold air and hardened almost immediately. You pinched and twisted at them while your fingers began to move faster and faster against your wet core before you decided you needed to fully touch yourself.

You stripped off your panties and spread yourself for the camera, allowing your glistening cunt to be on full display. You slipped your fingers between your folds and began to rub harsh circled around your clit, rolling your hips along with your motions and allowing unfiltered moans to fall from your lips. Roger wouldn’t be home for another few hours, but for some reason the idea that you may get caught enhanced the arousal you felt.

You dipped two fingers into your tight hole, letting out a high-pitched sigh and now feeling contently full. You pumped them in and out of your tight cunt, the slick sounds squelching as you pumped them in and out rapidly. Your stomach clenched when you brushed against that spot inside you and a knot in your tummy began to tighten, getting tighter and tighter each time you thrust your fingers into you. You used the heel of your hand to rub harshly against your clit, the slickness guiding you with ease “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You whimpered out, rolling your hips against your hands.

The tightening knot in your stomach snapped and your body jerked while a wave of pleasure washed over you.

After you recovered, you sat up, did you just masturbate in front of a camera? You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face; it was like you had a dirty little secret of your own.

When you finally ventured out of your room you found Roger lounging in the living room “Wow, out of your room for once?” Roger asked, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“No company tonight?” You chimed, noting the absence of some bar floozy hanging off his shoulder, “Did your show go all right?”

Roger’s brows were tightly knit together, he was obviously tense over something and the long sigh he let out before answering you practically told the story; “No, it was complete garbage.” He mumbled, “The venue, not us.” He quickly followed with.

Right, of course Queen was perfect, but you decided to entertain the idea, inching closer into the living room, “What was so bad about the venue?”

It was as though he were waiting for someone to ask him that question, “The crowd was total shit, I know Freddie is damn good at interacting with the crowd, they were just,” He took a surprisingly aggressive drink from his beer bottle, rolling his eyes at the memory, “Stiff as hell,” He mumbled, “Then! That wasn’t even the worst part, on top of that the power cut out not once but three times!” He dramatically raised his arms in frustration, “I practically threw my set off the stage after the third time.” Roger scoffed. Despite your distance from him you could smell the combined stench of sweat, cigarettes, and alcohol that seemed to seep into his garish outfit.

You arched an eyebrow at him “You threw your kit off the stage?” your voice pitched in disbelief.

Roger shrugged “Yeah,” he was so nonchalant, “What about it?”   

“Well I guess you won’t be going back there anytime soon,” You mumbled, and Roger raised his bottle in agreement, “You know, I was thinking we could paint the walls a nice cream color.” You mentioned, lightly running your hands across the drab wood paneling.

Roger narrowed his eyes at you, “Paint over wood panel?” He scoffed, “It’s original finish, you can’t do that!”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, “I can tell it’s original, I can practically smell 1970 seeping out when it gets too hot in here.” You chastised, “Plus painting the walls a lighter color will brighten it up a bit, what the hell are you trying to live in, a cave?”

“Fine, you get to paint the accent wall and I’ll take the others.”

“I pay half the rent here too!” You constantly reminded him that he wasn’t the only one who lived here anymore.

Roger let out a frustrated sigh, “Fine you get two walls and I’ll get two. Have fun painting them Saffron Ivory of whatever boring color you decide on.”

Well, guess your civil conversation is over, you sighed, “At least it’ll look better,” You mumbled, turning back to face him "Shouldn't you shower, you filthy bastard" You scrunched your nose up at his pungent post show odor.

"Ah, fuck off," Roger muttered flicking you the V.

You flashed him a closed mouthed smile "Pleasant, as always." you sarcastically stated before you found yourself slinking back into your room. You truly had no idea how Freddie expected you to coexist with this man.

[softboywriting]

Both | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn are unapologetically goofballs and you’re absolutely perfect for each other. New merchandise arrives and the two of you just have to test it out in your own special way. [fluff] [non au]

Word Count: 1k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The day the new merchandise arrives for the upcoming tour you are on set for Shawn's newest music video. The two of you have been going back and forth for months, debating whether or not to have you in the video with him. Eventually both of you decided you were confident enough in yourselves and your relationship that you were ready to do something like this.

Tension has been high on the set all day. You've been shooting for hours, going from location to location and you're finally settled down at the studio you started at. Everyone has been kind of trying to lighten the mood but it hasn't necessarily worked. Shawn is trying to get the director to listen to his ideas and he does, but he doesn't quite grasp what Shawn wants. Everyone is frustrated because the video isn't going as smoothly as planned and parts of it aren't flowing.

You head to the changing trailer and find Alissa, Andrew's assistant, has left some of the new merchandise in a bag for you with a note that has your name on it. She knew you loved to check out everything before it got finalized by the team and Shawn.

You smile to yourself. This would be a perfect way to lighten up the mood. You put on a shirt that has Shawn's name in his handwriting signed across a guitar on the front and a pair of sweatpants that have roses down the side and head for the set.

Shawn is filming a solo scene, laying on a couch in a fake living room set up. You sneak around behind the director and the sound and camera crew and stand just where Shawn can see you. It's then you start posing, dramatic arm over the face, a little exaggerated model strut, stop, pivot, and strut away. He starts laughing, waving off the cameras and calling a cut.

"Can we take a break?" He asks, getting up and going over to the director, Martin. "I just need to clear my head."

"Sure. Let's take a break and get some fresh air. Relieve some tension and regroup."

"Thanks." Shawn says and he walks over to you, a huge grin spreading across his face. It's nice. He's been in such a funk all day long he's barely looked like he's enjoyed your first video together. "Hey you," he smirks, hands going to your waist.

"Hey. Look what I found."

He looks you over. "Mmmhmm. Alissa must have brought it for you huh?"

"You knew it was coming?"

"Yeah. It arrived at Andrew's place last night and she said she was gonna bring it today."

You step back and take his hands, swinging them back and forth. "I think we need to test it."

"Oh absolutely." He grins, lifting you up with ease and carrying you to where you direct him over to the bag of stuff you brought with you from the trailer.

The first thing you do is try a few of the shirts. There's a pink one that is particularly ugly in your opinion. Now, you love pink, but this shirt was borderline salmon colored and the line art of Shawn's most recent floral tattoo is lost in it. You didn’t sit through a long as hell session with him for that tattoo not to be done justice on his merch. Next up is the hoodies. They're super soft and high quality, both with vivid coloring and embroidery. Shawn shucks his jeans and pulls on a pair of sweatpants to go with it.

"These are nice." He squats down a few times. "Real nice."

You pull on a pair and cross the empty area behind the living room set and squat down like a sumo wrestler. "So stretchy."

Shawn looks over and squats down, mimicking your pose. The two of you look like a couple of weirdos, wide squatting in the middle of an empty warehouse studio.

"We must give them the ultimate test!" Shawn laughs and starts doing an awkward crab walk forward with his legs spread wide.

You almost make it to him but you're both in tears from laughing so hard that you have to stop. You both collapse on the cold cement floor and Shawn pulls his hoodie drawstrings tight, creating a tiny hole for just his mouth.

"Kiss me." He says with his lips puckered and sticking out.

You pull your drawstrings and do the same thing with just your mouth exposed. "My love, I cannot see you!"

"Oh!" He laughs. "We must kiss our way to each other. There is no other way."

The next two minutes consists of the two of you scrambling around the floor trying to find one another blindly. When you finally do, you manage to miss his face like three times, kissing his eye and nose before your lips meet and you're cracking up laughing again.

"What are you guys doing?" Brain asks when he finds you guys behind the set being goofballs.

Shawn pulls the hoodie over his head and leans back on his elbows. "Trying out new merch."

"Quality control obviously Brian."

"Right. Well, I'm going to get lunch while you guys do...whatever this is."

"Okay bye." You laugh and wave him off. You look over to Shawn and he's got the collar of the salmon pink shirt in his mouth and one hand tucked up under the bottom hem, showing off his abs. "What the hell..."

"Am I sexy?" He asks with a choked off laugh.

"Dead sexy. The salmon really brings out your eyes." You let out a terrible little flirtatious growl like noise and he falls back laughing. You get up and peel off your hoodie, getting too hot from goofing around. "We should go get lunch while we can."

Shawn gets up and nods. "Yeah, and take the merch back to the trailer for Alissa."

You walk around in front of Shawn and he grabs your shoulder gently, turning you around to face him.

"Hold on."

"What's up?"

He smiles softly, eyes on yours. "You should keep this one." He gestures to the shirt you're wearing, one you put on out of the bag after the salmon one when you were trying on everything earlier. "My name looks good on you."

You pull the shoulder forward to glance back and see it's the one that says Mendes on the back across the shoulders like a jersey almost. "Are you just talking about the shirt or like y'know..."

He smirks and leans his head against yours. "Both."

End

-----

Thank you so much for reading ! Please Reblog if you enjoyed it :)) - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch12

Just a little sketch to see if I could tackle proportions and pose, no references used.  Yes I know I have made absolutely no attempt to make the brothers look like anyone, particularly Scott, I’m very much still learning (and struggling).

I’m normally very clean with my fics but one or two swears crept in this time, blame Scott.  It’s not littered with profanity though.

This chapter (and the next one) were really saved by @willow-salix​ who stopped me from deleting the whole thing in a crisis of confidence.  She is lovely.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

AO3 chapter link

Chapter 12

Virgil ran his fingers through his hair and wondered what the hell to do for the best, he was completely out of his depth and floundering.  He had made it his personal duty to keep an eye on Gordon ever since that fated visit to Denver but now the red flags were flashing and he was feeling ill equipped to deal with it.  His cheerful brother, normally so driven and bursting with barely contained energy, was wilting before his eyes.  

With each passing call Gordon had become more listless, less talkative, dropping into the stupor of the repressed.  He should have been worried when Gordon switched from video calls to voice only but he had been too busy with his own course to pay much heed to the change of routine until today.  He was pretty sure that Gordon had activated the video screen by accident; the face that greeted him was sallow, the eyes red rimmed and framed by heavy black bags.  It hadn’t taken long but Gordon’s lean and athletic form displayed change quickly, his little brother was a mess and looked visibly ill.  

Of course he had heard all about the Marineville incident and their father’s ultimatum so he knew the cause but not the solution.  He couldn’t even have Gordon up to stay with him again because Jeff’s total control over Gordon’s life had extended to him refusing even this escape for the teenager.  He had already tried that route but their father had held firm that Gordon had not yet earned the right to freedom.

With his father holding on to the unshakable belief that Gordon needed tough love and firm handling Virgil turned to the only other person he thought could make a difference.  After a quick check of the time he picked up his phone again and called Scott.

“Hi Virg, what’s up?”  Scott took in his brother’s agitated demeanor causing his usually cheerful tone to change to one of concern.  “Hey, are you ok?”

“Not really.  I think I need your help.”

“Everything ok with your project?  Or have you finally got girlfriend trouble?”

“This is serious Scott” Virgil admonished, not impressed at his brother’s attempt to lighten the mood.  He ran  his fingers through his hair again, it was a sure tell of his barely contained worry and a gesture that made Scott sit up and take notice.  “I’m fine but I’m worried about Gordon.”

“Gordon?  What has he done now?” With Gordon pretty much confined to quarters since Marineville Scott wondered how much trouble could his brother could get into really?  Surely if he had run off again it would be Dad on the phone to him, not Virgil.

“Nothing, as far as I can tell.  But I spoke to him tonight and I’m worried about him, he seemed so low and upset.”

“Are we talking ‘Alan breaking his octopus model’ upset, or ‘losing the state final and nearly being booted from the national squad’ upset.”

“I mean looking like he hasn’t eaten or slept for a week levels of upset.”

“Shit.  That bad?”  To Gordon the body was a tool and a temple, the words ‘optimal nutrition regime’ had been bandied about from an age when most kids would still happily eat candy for breakfast if given half the chance.  Gordon had never not taken care of himself.

“Yes, that bad.  I’ve never seen him like this before, it’s like all the spark has gone out of him.  He’s got nothing to aim at and nothing to live for.  Dad is adamant that he needs to go to college but that has never been part of his life plan and he has got absolutely no confidence in his own abilities even if he wanted to go on to further studies.  Do you think you can go back and check on him?  I know it’s a big ask but I’m tied here for the next few weeks otherwise I’d go myself.”

Scott knew that Virgil wouldn’t make this request lightly.  They had spent so long looking after the kids together back in Kansas, each supporting the other while their father focussed on his business or his grief, that he trusted Virgil’s judgement to be sound.  If direct intervention was requested then that was what was needed.

“I’ll see what I can do.  I’ve got some leave due at the end of the month, I might be able to get it brought forward.”  He made a mental note to cancel his airfield slot in New York, whether his leave got moved or not it looked like he was going to be spending it in LA rather than the Big Apple.

“Thanks.  You know I wouldn’t ask this if I wasn’t sure it was necessary.” 

“I know.  Look, it’s fine.  I’ll get down there as soon as I can and report back to you.  Now go get some sleep, you look done in and it must be gone midnight for you.”

“Okay.  Night Scott.” A wave of relief washed over Virgil as he closed the call.  If Scott hadn’t been available the next step would have been to head back himself; he would have been on a flight already if his project wasn’t at a time-critical stage.  Scott would soon get to the heart of the matter and everything would be fine.  He hoped.

Several states away Scott ran his fingers through his own hair in a gesture that mirrored his brother’s earlier action.  He hadn’t seen Virgil this rattled about a brother’s health since John’s suspected appendicitis eight years ago.  That had been for a scary time for them all with Jeff away on a business trip and Scott left in charge of the kids, ably backed up by Virgil as his reliable second in command; a role his little brother had assumed without asking ever since their mother had died.  Now Virgil was asking him to step up again and it was time to answer the call.  They had worked as a team then and they would work as a team now.   

xoxoxox

In less than a week Scott found himself outside the apartment door.  He hoped Virgil was wrong and that this was a wasted journey but his brother had an uncanny skill at being able to see beneath the surface.  It was his trust in Virgil’s opinion that had him citing ‘family emergency’ and ‘compassionate leave’ at his own commanding officer before making the trip south.  

He entered the cool darkness of the hallway and was hit by the wall of sound spilling out from the cracked doorway of Gordon’s room; a telltale sign that his brother was there but noone else was.  There was no way Jeff would have put up with that sort of racket as the beat of the music thudded through his bones.  He wasn’t particularly keen himself but at least it meant he could make his entry undetected.  It also meant that he was guaranteed some time alone with Gordon; Alan should be out at school for at least the next few hours which would give him the opportunity to try and get Gordon to open up without the pressure of an audience.

Pausing only to deposit his kit bag in the room that had never really felt like his, Scott made his way to the kitchen and started digging through cupboards until he found the cocoa.  It was a comforter, a treat reserved for those times when someone was particularly upset or recovering from illness.  The dark playlist that was still reverberating around the apartment suggested it was going to be necessary. 

Bearing two steaming mugs Scott nudged the door to Gordon’s room wide open and stepped in.  The curtains were still closed despite it being the middle of the day and the room smelt stale.  The figure on the bed sat up with a start at the sudden intrusion and confusion crossed Gordon’s features at the unexpected visitor.  For Scott the shock was different in nature, even in the darkened room the physical change in his brother was profound.  Gone was the tanned skin and glossy hair, instead Gordon’ locks sat limp and flat, framing a face that was several shades too pale making the dark eyes look like wells into oblivion.  The haunted look that greeted him caused Scott to curse himself for for not realising that things had gotten this bad, for not being there and for leaving Virgil to be the one that kept a check on everyone’s wellbeing.

He put the mugs down and hit the off switch on the stereo, causing a deep silence to fall over the room, before throwing open the curtains.  The sudden change in light levels made Gordon wince and the natural light he was now bathed in only served to enhance how pale he had got.   Scooching Gordon’s legs out of the way so he could perch on the end he joined his brother on the bed.

“I couldn’t find any of that caramel syrup you like, sorry.” 

“S’ok.  Coach doesn’t like us having too much refined sugar.  Didn’t like.  Don't suppose it matters any more.”  The reminder that he no longer had a coach was like a punch to the gut and his shoulders slumped just that little bit lower. 

Picking up the mug Gordon took a deep pull at his cocoa.  The warm sweetness hit the back of his throat invoking memories of Kansas; recovering from a cold or mourning a lost race, Scott’s cocoa was a band-aid for the soul.  Even without the syrup the hit of sugar that came with the drink gave his thought processes a jump start.  He blinked, then looked at Scott as if properly seeing him for the first time.  Yes, big brother really was in his room. 

“Why are you here?” Suspicion crept into his voice.  The last time he’d seen Scott it was Marineville; he wondered if this was another visitation orchestrated by their father, have big brother there during the day as another layer of control.

“Had some annual leave to use” Scott shrugged.  “Didn’t have any plans so I thought I would stop here for a few days.”  

“You’re a terrible liar.” Gordon rolled his eyes at the blatant falsehood.  “Try again.”

“Okay.  Virgil was worried about you and asked me to look in, call him if you don’t believe me.  It’s true I had some leave to use up though.” 

“Does Dad know you’re here?”

“Not yet.  I wanted to see how you were for myself first and frankly Gordon, you're a mess.  When did you last swim?  When did you last even shower?” With the curtains now open and the sun streaming in the room was warming up, amplifying the odour of unwashed body. 

“Was at the pool maybe 2 weeks ago.  Don’t really know any more.  Not much point now I’m off the squad.”

“C’mon Squid, you’re better than this.  Finish your drink and get your running shoes on, you need some sunshine and you need it now.”  

“Can’t.  Gotta get my personal statement finished before Dad gets home.”  The half-empty mug was set down with thud, the cocoa suddenly seeming bitter.  Storm clouds brewed behind his eyes at the reminder of their father and the rules he imposed.

“And how’s that going?”  Scott raised an accusatory eyebrow at the rumpled bed sheets.  There were some jotted notes on the desk but it didn’t look like Gordon had made much progress.  “I’ll give you a hand with it later but I need a run and you are coming with me, it’ll make you feel better.”

Gordon knew better than to argue.  The Scott of Kansas, the one that provided cocoa, was also the Scott that had spent night after night getting him to complete his homework or making him tidy his room.  He’d had a counter to every single one of Gordon’s tricks or arguments then and the look on his face showed he wasn’t going to take no for an answer now.  He hauled himself up and hunted for his running shoes in the closet while Scott disappeared off to his own room to get changed.  The very fact that he couldn’t lay his hands on his running kit straight away just showed that Scott was probably right, he had been shut away and static for too long and needed to move. 

The pair set off at an easy pace, their feet thudding against the sidewalk as they headed towards the nearest green space.  For Gordon, who had been neglecting his fitness regime of late, it took a while to shake the stiffness out of his limbs.  The sun felt dazzling as it reflected back up from the flagstones after shutting it out of his room for so long. 

Scott made sure to stay a couple of steps behind to start off with, supposedly so that Gordon could direct the route, but really so that his younger sibling could dictate the speed without being pressured.  He had always been the faster runner, his long limbs easily able to outstrip his brother’s stockier build, but the pace as they set off felt particularly sluggish.  There was no attempt at competition either.  Despite their differing talents the Gordon of old would always put up fight, trying to achieve the impossible and beat him to the finish but there was no fight today.  Staying a few steps behind also gave him a chance to take a proper look at his brother.  Scott noted with worry that the muscle definition in his arms and legs was softer, his steps heavy and less springy and the tee-shirt hung limply off a form that seemed thinner than before; the family athlete was a long way off peak condition and far from his usual energetic self.  Compared to the powerful figure he had watched sprinting to the finish of the assault course at Marineville Gordon was practically unrecognisable.

They ran in silence along shaded boulevards and down wooded paths, the sounds of the city muted by the greenery of the park.  The path looped and twisted and you could almost forget the world that existed on the far side of the railings.  As they approached the gates that would release them back into the city Scott turned onto the grass and slowed to a halt leaving Gordon to follow him with a puzzled look.

“Stretches” Scott answered in response to the unasked question in Gordon’s eyes, “or have you forgotten how to do those too?”

Gordon didn’t grace that with a response, just rolled his eyes and started running though his post-workout routine.  It really had been too long since he had given his body a proper challenge and his limbs were protesting.  He was still fit by average standards but he knew that if he hit the pool now he would be miles off gold medal pace.

Stretches complete Scott flopped down on the grass and patted the ground next to him in a gesture that was more command than invitation.  Gordon’s legs complied, gratefully collapsing to the floor, and he was soon sprawled beside his brother on the warm turf gazing up at a sky criss-crossed by contrails.

“So Gordon, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Gordon’s head snapped round at the blunt outburst.  “Don’t you start too, I’ve already had all the lectures I can handle.”

“I’m not here to lecture.  Seriously though, what the hell has been going on?  First you’re storming your way to a world record, then you’re putting yourself through one of the toughest military selections in the world and now you look like you couldn’t do either.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need to be able to do either, do I.  Dad has made it perfectly clear I’ve got to go to college.  I’m not allowed to compete any more and you hauling my ass out of Marineville kinda blew any chance I had with WASP.”  

A look of anger flashed across Gordon’s eyes as he threw out that barb.  He was pissed at himself for how hard he had found the run and cursing his lapse of discipline, Scott was an easy target for his frustrations.  For Scott it was the first spark of real emotion he had witnessed since arriving. 

“Yeah, sorry about that, I didn’t really have a lot of choice.  I must admit I was surprised though, you’ve never shown any interest in the military before.” 

“Never really had the time.  I’d spent so long throwing everything I had at my swimming I really thought that was going to be my life.  I honestly thought I could make him proud.  Turns out in Dad’s eyes though it could never be more than a hobby.  Now Coach won’t have me back on the team even with Dad’s permission; he said he needs commitment and can’t risk putting in the work only to have me pulled again.”  

The pain in his brother’s voice was clearly evident and Scott couldn’t blame him.  Gordon has spent years devoting himself to his sport, making significant sacrifices along the way.  Their father had always told them to give whole heart to a cause, that half measures would only lead to failure, and when it came to swimming Gordon had followed that advice to the letter.  To have all that dedication and commitment wiped out in the eyes of his Coach by the actions of that same father must have been a bitter blow.  

“Ok, forget Dad for a minute, tell me what you want.  I don’t care about what Dad thinks or what your Coach says.  If you could do whatever you wanted with your life what would it be?”

If Scott was expecting to be left waiting for an answer he was in for a surprise.  There was no hesitation in Gordon’s response, a small part of him might still doubt Scott’s intentions but it felt good to actually be listened to and to get his frustrations off his chest.

“WASP.  It...it felt good there.  I felt good.  I felt like I belonged and I could actually see myself having a decent life.  I honestly thought I could make it but I guess now I’ll never know, I’m probably permanently blacklisted.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.  Ok, faking the forms really wasn’t the smartest of moves but you won’t be under age for much longer.”

“I still couldn’t get it past Dad though.” The thought of his Dad had Gordon curling his fists in rage.  A handful of grass stems ended up decapitated with a satisfying ripping sound as they were torn up by the roots.  “I can’t just fly up there and try again, Dad would never arrange the ticket and my allowance has been cut off completely.”  Another handful of grass lost its grip on the ground.  “I can’t even call a cab without needing to run it by him to get some funds released.  Hitting 18 isn’t going to buy me any more freedom.”

Scott winced inwardly as the pile of broken stems beside his brother grew with each angry tear at the ground.  The restrictions being placed on Gordon’s life were draconian to say the least.  The stupid thing was they were doing more harm than good but evidently their father was too certain of his own righteousness and was blind to the damage he was doing.  He knew that if this carried on much longer Gordon could end up both mentally and physically broken, cowed into submission with all his spark gone.  

Just recently Scott had begun to have some appreciation of what it felt like to be under the controlling shadow of his father.  Every phone call between them came with the reminder that he was expected to become pilot in his father’s rescue organisation idea.  He hadn’t been asked, just presented with the future as if it were a foregone conclusion.   The difference between him and Gordon was that he had already stepped away from his father’s control.  Jeff couldn’t tender his resignation for him, much as he might like to, and so he still had a say in his own future.  Gordon had no such power .  His resolve to help his brother hardened.

“You leave Dad to me.  If you’re sure WASP is what you want…”

“Yeah, it is.” The response was strong, showing some of the old confidence Scott was more used to associating with his brother.

“...then I’ll do what I can to see you get your chance.  Of course, actually getting through selection will be up to you but from what I saw before you seemed to have that sorted.  Now come on, up with you.” Scott hauled himself up off the grass and extended a hand to his brother, pulling Gordon up and then into a hug.  He stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around the shorter form, feeling the head buried into his shoulder in silent thanks, before reluctantly breaking the contact that his brother obviously needed so desperately.  “We ought to be heading back, it’s getting late.  And you seriously need to hit the shower.”

[its-belle-obviously]

Wander

Summary: An unusual Companion provides hope for the next life Notes: I started playing Journey this month and absolutely fell in love with the game. I was inspired to write this piece after viewing a post by @xxkaibutsukoxx on Tumblr, which I will link to here and at the end of the fic. The two characters are inserts of my partner and me. I hope you enjoy the fic! Link to the post: https://xxkaibutsukoxx.tumblr.com/post/148790807072/video-here-if-you-want-to-watch-with-music I’ve placed the actual fic under the cut so I won’t clog up anyone’s dashboard:

I had walked these paths dozens of times before with various companions. Most were friendly and wanted to play and interact. Others disappeared partway through our Journey. A few taught me where to find treasures and secrets. They helped me discover all the glyphs and teach those that came after them. Discovering all the glyphs led me to earn the white robes, the Guide robes. Robes I wear with great honor and pride; for helping others brings me joy and great satisfaction.

For all my previous companions, this one stuck out to me. They switched between being completely silent despite my inquiries; to singing nonstop for minutes at a time. As we progressed along our way, they started to talk more. They didn’t seem to mind when I showed them something they may not have known about. I grew proud as their scarf got longer with each new symbol. They always gave a small thanks when I showed them our history. Taking a seemingly keen interest in the scenes revealed.

Their markings were those of someone’s first rebirth or second journey. I made sure to show them some of my favorite spots. As well as the best places to have a bit of fun. It felt even more special to share it with them. Almost like I was seeing them for the first time once again. The most memorable was also the first time I got a genuinely different response from them. It was at the end of the Memory Passage before the last slide. 

We sat there side by side in the amber glow for several minutes. I was half afraid they had left, disappearing into the sand like others before. However, much to my delight, when I stood to continue our journey, they stood with me. They flew into the air giving off several full melodious notes. When they landed next to me again, I gave a beep and a twirl. I bounced once into the air and towards the slopes. 

Together we jumped off the cliff, back down the slope. We slid down the slope in unison as the light faded, and the sand dimmed. Flying off the edge together, I gave off a single burst of song, knowing we both knew what was coming next. Their returning call was the last thing I saw before we plunged underground.

As a Guide, I made sure to steer them away from the Guardians. I knew not how their previous passing faired, but I knew this time they’d be safer. I was also determined to have fun with them. We flew around blue-lit tunnels as much as their scarf would allow and danced amongst the jellyfish. They drug me into a game of hide-and-seek as they weaved among the seaweed. We sang joyously as we played and found each other.

Once we reached where the first Guardian awoke, I fell back into my position. The harder I tried to be the sensible Guide, the more they tried to drag me back out of it. Whether it was flying dangerously close to a Guardian, causing me to let out a series of rapid notes and urge them away. Suddenly backtracking and disappearing from view, making me urgently look for them. Or even flying through arches from the ancient structures. Those made me the fondest as I would discover them sitting up there patiently. I could detect the smug tone to their chirp upon standing from meditation.

We made it to the Sanctuary with our scarves intact; my heart was pounding, unlike even my first trip past. We ascended the tower gleefully as I continued to show them secrets. There was something about the yellow weightlessness that really made them brighten. I showed them the secret history scene, and they played amongst the banners. I couldn’t help but watch them glide between the pillars with ease. They took a great interest in the giant cloth creature, riding them around twice before departing. The extraordinary creature hidden at the bottom held their attention for several minutes as they investigated it.

Standing before the snow, this time around was new. I wasn’t curious like I was my first journey. Nor was I apathetic like so many times before. I wasn’t even apprehension about the impending trials. Looking beside me at my companion, I was filled with excitement for the trek ahead. I was looking forward to seeing what they would do as we tried not to freeze. I wondered what game they would drag me into, what dance they would do. I was eager to see how they reacted to what was beyond the snow.

As we journeyed forward, I hadn’t known to anticipate just how strong my reactions would be. The Fire Pit was comforting and welcoming. We sat there for a long moment enjoying the warmth and each other’s company. The Windy Path made me far more nervous than they ever had before. I felt my heart stop when my companion was blown off the bridge, not restarting until I had dropped after them to see they were well. They had chirped reassuringly and circled around me to show they were well.

Moving through the Guardians’ area was harrowing. Even though we bypassed a large chunk to reach a far off history scene. Reemerging back onto the path, a Guardian spotted us. As a Guide, I jumped in front of it to shield my companion. Said companion didn’t say anything until we were back in safety. They then proceeded to berate me and show how scared they were by reenacting what happened. I let them speak, but I was firm in my opinion that it was my job to protect and guide them. 

I knew they weren’t happy, but we continued on anyway. Occasionally my companion would pause to gripe at me. Soon enough, we reached the frozen seaweed. It seemed like they were either too cold to play this time or were still too upset to play. Either way, they didn’t speak again until we were in the next canyon. They circled me twice before slipping into a meditative pose. Confused but willing to comply, I sat with them. We were close enough that our symbols glowed upon our chests, and their scarf didn’t lose power despite the chill.

Eventually, they got back up, and we continued upon our merry way. It was then that I realized exactly where we were and what was ahead. My heart sank, and I slowed down to put off what was coming. They noticed I wasn’t keeping up and slowed down to match my pace. Our symbols glowing and our closeness providing little warmth. They asked me what was wrong with a single chirp, but by that point, we had reached the Wasteland. 

I stopped in my tracks and stared at what was to come next. As they had been nearly this entire time, my companion stood next to me. They chirped lowly once. Twice. Three times before, I beeped back. They gave me one last big note before plunging past the gates. I was quick to follow, unwilling to let them go alone. Reluctant to let them out of my sight.

We sang back and forth to each other, none stop. We sang as the wind blew us sideways. We sang as the wind blew us backward. We sang as the wind blew our scarves away, our magic. We sang as it got harder to move. We sang as it got harder to breathe. We sang as our notes got lost in the gale. We sang even as we couldn’t hear each other anymore. We sang until we couldn’t.

We fell. Together. Side by side.

As the Ancestors came and spoke to me, rejuvenated me. All that was on my mind was seeing my companion again. Wondering if they were okay. If the Ancestors had already revived them. I was filled as much by the Ancestor’s magic as I was by the determination to see them again as I flew off. The Guardians did not frighten me, nor did I try to avoid them as I had in the past. I had one goal and one goal only. I was going to reach that ball of power, and I was going to see my companion again.

White filled my vision as I reach the ball of power. Once the light cleared and I could move again, I sang as loudly as I could. I held my breath as I waited for a reply. I was scared that by some fluke, the Ancestor’s hadn’t revived my companion. Or that perhaps they had faded away once they had reached the ball of power. My head filled with wilder what-ifs as time wore on with no reply.

In the end, my companion never replied to that call. Instead, they took a flying charge at me, knocking me said ways. The pure joy I felt at that moment is still indescribable to this day. I sang out my delight before circling around them excitedly. We danced around each other, before shooting forward in unison. I knew they were going to love this place!

We sang and twirled around each other as we reached ever higher. There were a couple of times they would dart off in a specific direction, and I would go chasing after them. We’d always pause at the arches if we’d lost the other for a moment. Though we were quick to continue our play afterward. For the first time, someone actually joined me on the giant clothe creature. Together we rode it nearly all the way to top.

When we reached the top, we took a minute to meditate together. Before us stood the end of our journey, yet neither of us wanted to go. My companion stood up and began running around the sand. It seemed like they were precise with their movements. Curious, I stood up to see what they were doing. They continued for a beat before sitting down like they had finished. I discovered that they had drawn a picture of a lotus flower.

Inspired by their drawing, I tried my hand at it as well. I moved to the other side of the clearing and began my work. It was a bit difficult for me to visualize how to draw a rose, but I think I got my message across. My companion seemed to approve as they sang and spun around me. That just led to me revolving around them, and we both got dizzy.

For some reason, seeing our drawings next to each other eased my reluctance. I knew they wouldn’t be there the next time I passed through. The next time didn’t seem to matter then as they were there then. I would have the memory of our flowers, the memory of them, each time I reached this clearing.

With that thought in my heart, we walked towards the light in unison. We walked into the light together.

Unknown to me at the time, two lights shot from the mountain that day. Other Travellers watched as the twin lights danced together. Twirling their way back from whence they came, back to the beginning. At the last moment, one whisked away from the other.

All I know is that when I awoke for my next life it was with a new symbol. There was a black lotus flower on the back of my head. A sign of my profound connection to my companion. A bold reminder of our time together and a bold hope for our next meeting.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Soulmates through music; Brian May x reader

Okay everyone, now from the last Rock Angel part I know I had a lot of hearts broken and spirits crushed so along with the recent Freddie fic I just posted which I hope you all read and comment, I present to you my 2nd Brian May x reader fic. This time it has ALL THE FLUFFY FEELS that should hopefully mend the heartache that was “A family torn apart”.

Now one thing I should add is the fact I’ve put the reader as Tim’s sister, you know the first lead singer of Smile before he went to join Humpy Bong. The idea of putting the reader as Tim’s sister has crossed my mind more than once and I’ve yet to come across a fic with that description so I thought, what the hell I’ll give it a shot. And I may include a part 2&3 but that’s all I’ve had in mind for it, but first I’ll see how I am with time.

So warnings are FLUFF, FLUFF & yes MORE FLUFF, makeout sessions, Paul Prenter (yes he’s a warning as usual), bit of swearing but overall it’s as FLUFFY as you can imagine. OH ONE LAST THING AND THIS IS IMPORTANT SO LISTEN UP!!!!

I have linked a video towards the end for Brian May singing “Love of my Life.” Please please please please please PLEASE listen to that song cause it will help the story move along. I promise you. Okay hope you enjoy loveies :)

*PS AN 3-23-19*

For those who don’t know, I’ve made a little oneshot sequel to this story. Pt.3 is already done and complete, idk when I’ll do pt.2 so that way this short little mini-series can be marked as complete but for those interested until I get the time to do pt.2 have a read of this and I hope you all enjoy this next little continuation :)

Part 1.5      Part 2      Part 3       Part 4

Taglist Queen fics

@alexfayer

________________________________________________

*1970*

It was like any other Smile performance. Brian, Roger, Tim and I were playing at the pub, oh I’m getting a head of myself, the name is (y/n) Staffell, the keyboardist/pianist and sometimes tambourine player of Smile, but by day I do my mammalogy studies specifically in regard to carnivora species of the Eutheria subclass. In English that means I focus more on the studies of big cats, canines and bears.  

And yes as you can tell by my last name, Tim is unfortunately my older brother.  The relationship between us is…..well it’s strained at best but it’s not violent or toxic or anything like that but, we don’t get along half the time.

But he knew my potential of the piano ever since I was 3 years old I’ve been playing and I knew how to make a good rhythm or match harmony to melodies to some of the songs that Smile does.  When Brian and Roger came on board in the band, the three of us became rather close, best friends you could say, hell maybe family.

Once Brian’s guitar solo came up and he had the chance to shine, Roger and I joined behind him and the three of us made a sound so magnificent and full of rock and roll, I felt like it would be deserving of the heavens.  That is of course until Tim came back in singing and playing the bass guitar.

By the end of the show, our classmates and other young college kids applauded and my brother said into the mic.

“Thank you all. We are Smile. Goodnight everybody!” After the show I shook out my hands and flexed my fingers in and out and that’s when Roger asked me.

“You alright (y/n)?”

“Yeah just overdid it on that solo, always makes my wrists cramp up as well as my fingers. Thank god I didn’t miss a key though.”

“I thought you did amazing.” Said Brian.  I turned to him and smiled softly and thanked him.

However as the night went on, things only got worse as my idiot brother told us of this opportunity with a new band.

“Humpy Bong?” Brian said.

“Humpy Bong. There’s going places, there’s gonna be big.”

“Humpy Bong. Are you joking?” snapped Roger.

“Don’t do it Tim.” Brian begged.

“I’m sorry guys but we’re not going anywhere with this. What college gigs? Pubs? I’ve gotta give it a go. Come on (y/n) let’s go.”

“I’m not going.” I stated firmly.  Tim turned toward me holding his bass and he said.

“Don’t be an idiot (y/n). I already told them I knew of a great pianist who could put Beethoven and Mozart to shame. Don’t waste your talent by staying where you’re at.” I stared Tim down and said.

“Then find someone else with my skill set. If that’s at all possible of course. You may be a coward for ducking out but I’m not. I’m staying with Rog and Brian.” Tim rolled his eyes and muttered.

“Whatever, it’s your loss.” Then he walked away leaving Brian, Roger and myself along without a lead singer.

I just got back from the bar getting our drinks and I handed Roger his beer and I handed Brian his glass of water while I had me a beer as well.  I sat between Roger and Brian in Rog’s van.

“You didn’t have to do that you know.” I heard Brian say.

“Do what?”

“Stay with us while your brother’s off to go big.”

“Brian, if my brother and I had to be stuck in one more band together, I’d soon rather gouge my eyes out and chop off every last one of my fingers and toes just so that I couldn’t play anymore. You guys may not know this but he’s also very critical when it comes to my playing. Claiming I’m not playing the right tempo or key. I’ll make it big with my boys at my side.”

“Aww you do care for us.” Roger teased as he ruffled my hair messing it up while I let out a whine before playfully shoving him away.

As the minutes ticked by, Roger piped in again.

“Besides I think he’s right. That show really was a load of bullocks.”

“Well there—there was room for improvement yeah.” Brian tried to reason with Roger. “Right (y/n)?”

“Uhh…..”

“See even she agrees with me. I’ve got better things to do with my Saturday nights. I could give you their names.” Roger grinned smugly at the last statement as he put his cigarette to his lips and as Brian and I rolled our eyes, Roger exhaled the smoke grinning at us.  It was then a boy walked right by us before stopping in front of us.

He had dark black hair, about the same length as Brian’s was, he wore a jean jacket, a stripped polo shirt and dark jeans. But what made him stand out was the fact that I could see that he had an overbite and the fact that he didn’t look British at all, it looked like he was either from the Middle East or India, I don’t know I’m always getting those places mixed up.

“En—enjoyed the show.” He said.  He was kinda awkward and shy but at least he’s not like all the other boys who come up to us and then spot me and try to get a shag from me.

“Thanks man.” Said Brian.

“Thank you.” Both Roger and I said.

“I’ve been following you for a while actually. Smile. Makes sense for a dental student.” He said shyly gesturing to Roger before turning to Brian and continuing, “And you’re astrophysics, aren’t you?”

“Yeah” Brian answered wearily.

“Makes you the clever one.” The man answered. Seeming to boost Brian’s already big ego he turned to Roger and I and said.

“Yeah I suppose it does.”

“And you dear, you’re a biologist aren’t you. Specifically for mammals. Right?” he said pointing to me.

“Yeah though I really love the big cats and canines.”

“Thought so. Fierce, clever girls such as yourself always love those kinds of animals.” I then turned to Brian and said in the same tone he had spoken to Roger and me.

“Yeah I suppose we do.”

“I study design here.” He said.

“Wow, I can tell. I love your jacket, it really goes well with your shirt.” I said to him.

“Thank you darling. Also I—” he then pulled out some sheets of paper and said, “I write songs. Might be of interest to you. It’s just a bit of fun really.” He said putting his notes away embarrassingly since we didn’t immediately take them.

“I’m sorry but I’m afraid your five minutes too late.” I said solemnly.

“Our lead singer just quit.” Brian answered. The man’s eyes widened for a brief moment and he seemed to gain some confidence as he said proudly.

“Well then you’ll need someone new.”

“Any ideas?” asked Brian with a shrug.  The man adjusted himself almost like he was about to strike a pose but chose against it as he said.

“What about me?”

“Uhhh…..not with those teeth mate.” Roger joked out. I slammed Roger over the head and I sneered at him.

“Don’t be a wanker Roger!” I faced the man to see him slightly heartbroken and as he turned away I was about to apologize on Roger’s behalf when something incredible happened.  The man turned around and sung one of the verses for “Doin Alright”.

I know what I’m doin….

I’ve got a feeling

I should be doin alright!

Oh my…..My jaw dropped at hearing this guy’s voice.  It was like hearing an angel sing from the heavens.  The boys and I looked at each other before the 4 of us sung in unison.

Doin alright.

Our voices blending together in perfect harmony. By the end of the song Brian was laughing happily and I held my hand over my mouth trying to contain my squeals but I couldn’t help it, while Roger had the biggest smile across his face.

“I was born with 4 additional incisors. More space in my mouth means more range. I’ll consider your offer.” He told us before smugly walking away with his hands on his hips.  I looked at both Brian and Roger and we silently agreed and it was then Brian called out to him.

“Uhh…Do you play bass?” He turned back toward us and stated proudly.

“Nope.”

About six months later after getting to know Freddie Bulsara, we started looking for a bass player as well as rehearsing before our next gig at the same pub.  Finally after trying out a few bass players there came a bass player by the name of John Deacon and I could already tell that he was exactly what we needed.

Finally our next gig had arrived.  As we all walked up on stage to our positions. Roger went up to his drum set, John grabbed his bass guitar, Brian had his red special that he and his dad had made together and as Freddie and I walked up Brian introduced the new faces of our band.

Of course one bastard just had to call out just after Freddie greeted the crowd asking where my brother was and who this Pakkie was that we got.  I went up to Freddie holding my tambourine for the first bit and said to him.

“You ready Freddie?” He turned to me and said.

“Let’s do it.” It was then Brian played the first note for mine and Brian’s song that we both wrote together “Keep Yourself alive”. I slammed my tambourine at my hip, Roger kept the tempo with his drums while Freddie was struggling to get the microphone stan out of its place.  Which made that god awful feedback screech and I was looking at him oddly as well as the rest of the boys wondering just what the hell he was doing.  It wasn’t until he managed to break the microphone stand off nearly almost decapitating John’s head off and he then began to sing.

And when he performed, it was like he had no boundaries of what it was that he was doing.  He owned the stage like it was his and made every audience member feel important.  

The only downside was that he was singing the wrong lyrics and improvising what Brian and I had.  Every now and then Brian and I would pipe in telling Freddie he was singing the wrong lyric but of course when Freddie sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping.

As time passed, our band changed from Smile to Queen all because of Freddie and because of him we got the chance to record our first ever album and we soon got discovered by John Reid from EMI records and he wanted to meet with us and possible manage us.

We got on Top the Pops, did an American tour and were now going to record our next rising album.

*Rockfield farm, 1975*

After getting the approval from Ray Foster, we were sent off to a recording studio known as Rockfield farm, and I’ll definitely say it definitely suited the name.  This recording studio was all the way out of civilization’s reach and it all looked more like a farm than a recording studio with the wooden built houses.

We were lead inside by Paul Prenter who was basically our “watcher” keeping an eye on us from day to day.  Let’s just say I already do not like this guy, he gives me such eerie vibes it’s not even funny. Plus he seems to always want to be around Freddie like a little lost puppy.

“Right I know it’s not the Ritz. Not even close. Roger, you’re in here.” He said as we all followed him up the stairs of the house we would be staying in for the next several weeks if not months.

“Right.” Roger said as he went into his room.

“Freddie this is you. Biggest room.” Kiss ass. “Brian, that’s you.” As John and I trailed up behind Paul stopped us and said, “John you’re in the living room. And (y/n) you’re downstairs.”

“No! Absolutely not! She can stay in my room. I’ll take downstairs.” Roger said.  I looked at Roger in shock.  Never have I heard him wanting to pass off a good room for what could be a cold, small basement.

“Roger don’t get all…..”

“My bedroom is big enough for two. I wouldn’t mind sharing.” Brian’s voice rang up.  He turned towards me and said, “Of course if that’s alright with you (y/n). I don’t mean to speak up for you but I just thought……”

“It’s fine Brian. So long as you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s nothing (y/n), come on in.”

“Right then, that means John you take (y/n)’s room.” Paul walked down the stairs and I looked at Deacy apologetically.

“I’m sorry Deacy.”

“It’s fine (y/n). I wouldn’t feel right if you had been booted to the basement. It makes sleeping on a couch sound like heaven. I’ll be fine love.” I smiled at him and he took his suitcase and walked back down the stairs.

“Here let me help you carry that.” Brian said as he grabbed my suitcase leaving me with my overnight bag.  I walked into his room and it was quite a big sized room, the bed however I can’t really speak for it.

“And you’re sure we both can fit on this bed?” I asked skeptically.

“I think so, we just have to make the adjustments and then….” But as Brian got on the bed, it turned out to be so springy and rickety, it bounded him back up in his seat.  He tested the bed out before tilting his head to the side raising his eyebrows.

“Seems the adjusting is going to be bigger than we thought.” I soon got on the bed sitting behind Brian to his left side and it reminded me of a bed back at my nan’s house.  As a kid I always loved jumping up and down on that bed, of course nan never allowed it and I was always caught and punished for bouncing on it.

As the day went on and after getting settled in, we all immediately went to work.  Using the barn and the scenery as a perfect place of inspiration and the quietness of all distraction minus the chickens going around and the cows mooing in the distance.

Of course Roger couldn’t help himself as he would try to bother the roosters which in turn made one of them chase him which had all of us dying of laughter.  We got some recording done just to test out how the sound system sounded and what instruments each of us would play based on the specific song of the songwriter.

Finally it was about 2am when we finally decided to call it a day and get some rest.  We all retreated to our room and got changed for the night.  Since there was a small jointed bathroom in mine and Brian’s room, he changed in there while I had the bedroom to myself to get changed.  Once we were changed, Brian and I began to think of the bed situation.

As we both got into it, it turns out that there was still some space left for the two of us in the middle but only about a full hand length space.  I slept on the right side of the bed closest to the door while Brian slept on the left near the window.

“Great work today by the way (y/n).” Brian said.

“Thanks, you too Bri. Goodnight.” I said to him with a soft smile. As I got tucked into the sheets I heard him mutter goodnight back and soon I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke to the rooster’s crow at the butt crack of dawn and as the sun was starting to lightly come in through the curtains of the window, I let a groan and yawned softly.  I almost didn’t want to get up so I nuzzled myself further into my pillow.

Boy my pillow’s a bit sturdier than I remember it being last night, wait hold on a second.  Why is my pillow moving up and down? And what is wrapped around my waist? My eyes shot opened and my face turned bleet red as I finally realized what was going on.

I had somehow ended up intertwined with Brian. His arms wrapped securely around my waist, my head buried in his button up white night shirt that had the first three buttons unbuttoned which revealed his chest and somehow one of my hands had tucked itself underneath it and I could feel his chest hair along my palm, I could also feel our legs entangled with each other.

I guess—no I would be lying if I didn’t say that ever since forming Smile that I’ve had a slight crush on Brian Harold May.  Okay I’m lying again.

I’m crazy in love with the man.

From the first day my brother Tim introduced us together, I thought he was the cutest boy I have ever seen.  His short hair at the time, his blue eyes, and his stupid but beautiful face that looked like he had come out of a Michelangelo sculpture.

I must’ve suddenly panicked or something because next thing I knew I was down on the floor hitting my head onto the hard floor.

“(Y/n) are you okay!?” I heard Brian say above me.

“Yeah, yeah I guess I had a nightmare and fell out of bed.” I tried to cover up my embarrassing fall with the famed ‘fall out of bed because of a nightmare’ trick.  It worked all the time with Tim, why shouldn’t it work now?

Brian soon was kneeling down in front of me cupping my face checking me for any injuries.

“You sure? What was your dream about?” Ahh bullocks. What do I say to him? Come on (y/n) say something! Anything!

“I was falling off a chocolate volcano.” Really that’s the best you can come up with? Bri looked at me skeptically before laughing softly and shaking his head.

“I’ve told you many times before (y/n), too much sugar will give you nightmares.”

“And I’ve told you Bri, that I never listen to reason, especially from astrophysics majors.” I teased him.  He playfully glared at me and I grinned back at him as he went back to checking over me.

I flinched as he touched the back of my head and he apologized and said.

“Well good news you don’t have a concussion.”

“Joyous occasion.” I said sarcastically.

“Let me go down and get you some ice to bring down the swelling.”

“Brian there’s no need……”

“Please (y/n), just so that I feel better.” He cupped my gingerly in his hand.  I felt my face got slightly hot as the tingles shot up my spine from his gentle touch.

“Okay.” I breathed out.  He smiled softly and got up from the floor and left the room and I let out a deep, heavy sigh that I had no idea I was holding in.  “God why must love be so damn confusing and hard?!” I groaned.  He soon came back with a small bag of ice as well as a kitchen towel, he had the bag of ice wrapped in the towel and he gently placed it right over the bump on my head.

“How’s that feel?”

“Good. Really, really good. Thanks Bri.”

“Anytime.” He said with a soft smile.

Later on that day I was walking outside along the barn humming to myself hoping to find some rhythm to get down on the piano so that I could make a song.  That’s when I heard the sound of Brian’s red special guitar playing in the recording studio.

I followed the sound of the hypnotic guitar and I finally realized that the song that Brian was playing was Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak hotel”.  I quietly entered the studio and there I saw on the other side of the glass window, Brian with a set of headphones and I could hear him singing the song.

*Brian*

Well since my baby left me

I found a new place to dwell

It’s down at the end of lonely street

At Heartbreak Hotel, and I said

I’ve always loved hearing Brian’s voice.  He just had this harmonious, angelic soft voice that he barely gave himself credit for.  While I did appreciate Freddie’s vocal range and thought he was a great front man for Queen, I just wish there would be a chance for Brian to stand out, hopefully in this album A Night at the Opera he would let Brian have a song to sing.

I’m feelin so lonely baby

I’m feelin so lonely

I’m feeling so—

I then hit the button that would allow Brian to hear me as I sung to him.

*Me*

Lonely, I could die

It startled him as he looked up and stared at me.

“I thought you were supposed to be working on your own music?” He asked me.

“I could ask the same for you Mr. May.” I teased as I pressed the button again speaking into the microphone. “But you know me, I’ve always been an Elvis fan so the second I heard that opening note of my favorite song of the King, I just had to come and see what was going on.” He smiled at me and I smiled back.  “So besides trying to be like the King of Rock himself, what have you come up with for the new album?”

“Come on in and have a listen, I need your opinion on this. And you’re the only one who speaks the truth without any sarcastic response.” He said as he set down his red special.  I stood up and opened the door and soon entered the recording room.

Brian now held a 12-stringed acoustic guitar as well as a sack of papers and was sitting by the piano.

“Now I haven’t quite figured out most of the lyrics, this is just the chorus but I think it could be a hit. Or not.”

“Well let’s hear it.” He then began humming the tune as he started to play the acoustic.  I’ve always admired the way his fingers would just wrap around the neck of the guitar with such elegance and poise as he would play.  He’s always had guitar playing hands, as well as piano hands when need be.

Don't you hear my call though you're many years away

Don't you hear me calling you

Write your letters in the sand

For the day I take your hand

In the land that our grandchildren knew

I was in awe at the song already and I knew already that it would be a great song, but also it would tug at the heartstrings.

“Still a work in progress, but then again it could be rubbish.” He said.

“No, no! I love it. It’s just missing something….hold on.” I stood up from the piano bench and looked through the instruments hoping to find what I needed.  Finally after doing some literal digging I managed to find a Marx tambourine. “Okay start the chorus up again but don’t start singing just yet, let me get the beat of it.”

Brian then began to play around with the chorus part and I tried to come up with a good rhythm beat and soon I just did a basic clap, hitting my lower palm to the head of the tambourine letting the cymbals jingle.  As Brian and I kept the tempo he then began to sing the chorus again but this time I joined alongside him.  

Even after hearing the song only once, I found myself knowing the words.

And our voices blending together in a beautiful harmony, his angelic tenor voice and my mezzo soprano voice made shivers run up my spine and goosebumps pop up along my arms.

When we finished the chorus, our eyes were locked onto each other’s and that’s when Roger’s voice piped in.

“How long are you two gonna deny it? Grow a pair and kiss each other will yah! God the sexual tension between you both is disgusting!” We looked up and there standing at the door were Roger, Deacy and Freddie.  Brian and I turned away from each other blushing.

But I kept thinking to myself, did he feel the same way about me like Roger was suggesting? Or is he just pulling my leg like he usually does.

“That was beautiful Brian dear, what do you call that song?” asked Freddie.

“I—haven’t really gotten a name for it yet. It’s still a work in progress.”

“Well I love it, especially when you two sing it together. But if you don’t mind I need to steal (y/n) away and teach her the piano for the song I have in mind for the album that will change the way music can be created.” I turned to Brian and he gestured for me to go on.

I set the tambourine down and walked towards Freddie and he wrapped an arm around me and led me out of the recording studio and back up towards one of the other houses where they would have some of the pianos.

I was sitting next to Freddie observing his piano skills as he played his song which he’s decided to call “Bohemian Rhapsody.” He would cross his hands over one another for a 2 quick note playing before uncrossing them and returning to playing.

I’ll admit he’s quite the pianist. Sometimes I even wonder why I’m still even hear, if he can play even better than me.  Hell back when we were first meeting with John Reid, Paul tried to convince Mr. Reid that the band could possible be better with just the four of them but the boys had my back and told Mr. Reid that either I stay with the band or there’s no deal.

He agreed to keep me in the band and ignore Paul’s ‘opinion’ especially after I had written the hit melody for Killer Queen while Freddie wrote the lyrics.

“Okay (y/n) now let me see you try it.”

“You sure I can do this Fred?” I asked him.

“I have complete confidence in you. I’ll watch every second and show you what to play in case you miss any notes.” I then began playing the piano now and I seemed to get it, except for when it came to the hand cross over. I would either miss the keys on the cross over or mess up the rhythm when it came back to uncrossing my hands.  I was starting to get frustrated and I said.

“This isn’t working. How in the bloody hell do you do the hand cross over?”

“It just takes practice darling, here let me show you how it’s done.” He took my hands and placed them on the keys and said, “Okay start playing.” I then began playing the song and just before it came to the key change, he ordered me to stop.

It was then he took hold of my left wrist, crossed it over and said to me.

“Now with just your index and tallest finger, play the two keynotes.” I did as he asked and he immediately went back to position one. “The best way to remember where to come back to position one is to measure your shoulder length. Make sure both arms are at shoulder length and go back to playing. Now try it on your own. You’ve got this dear. Again.”

I sighed deeply and played from the top and miraculously I nailed it right then and there as Freddie sang the first few verses of his song.  At the last verse he had before a guitar solo that Brian would do, he sang with such raw passion and I followed with the piano with just as much passion before gracefully banging on the keys as he soon held out the last note and I was soon out of breath just from playing and I knew right then and there.

This would bring Queen to the top.

Freddie turned to me and he said with a grin.

“That was beautiful darling, just like you. And once Brian hears you play, he’ll fall in love with you for sure.”

“Thank you for the first note Fred, the second note I’ll have to disagree with you on that. We’re just friends.”

“Come on darling you’ve told me once before about your little crush, why are you denying it now?”

“Because—because what if he doesn’t feel the same? Or even worse what if we did work out but then hard such a fight that I would put the band at risk? I—I can’t do that to the rest of you guys.”

“Oh (y/n)~” Freddie hugged me from behind and he said. “As a mammal biologist I thought you would’ve known that when Emperor penguins find a mate, they do it through song. You and Brian….you’re voices are made for each other. Your love songs intertwine with each other so well, you wouldn’t be risking anything. The only thing you are risking is the chance at happiness you and him can have together.”  I pondered on the thought and I asked him.

“You really think that’s what I’m doing?”

“I know so. Denial doesn’t suit you dearie. Promise me you’ll tell him your feelings, for all our sakes.” I sighed deeply and said to him.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Do it before the end of our recording or else I’ll tell him myself.” He pecked my temple platonically before racing out of the room.

“What? FREDDIE!!” I raced after him yelling his name, knowing that he would go about doing that and I had to do whatever it took to stop him.

As the weeks went on, A Night at the Opera was slowly coming along.  Most of the songs had been recorded, even Brian’s song that I had helped him with which he had decided to call ’39.  Now our main focus was Freddie’s piece “Bohemian Rhapsody”.

And let me tell you already, that was the song that was taking the longest to record due to Freddie’s perfectionist vision for this song.  He had us do multiple takes of each part from either voice recording, guitar playing, piano, bass, drums anything until it was up to par for his vision of the song.

Right now Brian was doing his guitar solo that he himself had actually written for the song.  He ran it by Freddie and he allowed Brian to show what he had in mind. Brian was now behind the booth playing his solo right after my piano playing and Freddie’s second verse.

Seeing Brian in his element, playing his red special and playing what he wrote, it made me just fall deeper in love with him. I bobbed my head along to the solo with my eyes closed and just let his beautiful guitar take me away to paradise.

By the end of the solo, Deacy stopped the track and Brian asked.

“What next?”

“That was pretty damn good. Brilliant. I love that.” Freddie said but he forgot to hit the button on the microphone so Brian couldn’t hear him.

“Press the button Freddie” Brian said into his guitar mic. Our music supervisor Roy who actually helped us record our first album told Freddie what to press while Freddie bragged on saying that he knew where it was before pressing the button and teased out.

“Knock, knock.”

“Good” Brian said.

“It’s good umm…you know play it like you wrote it.” Freddie said.

“Well I did I wrote that part.” Brian said.

“Taking the piss.” Brian mocked out a laugh and said.

“Okay, are you happy?”

“I think it’s beautiful, just like our lovely (y/n). It’s almost perfect.”

“Almost?” questioned Brian.

“Yes give it more rock n roll.”

“Well I’m always up for that Fred.”

“Put your body into it.”

“Yeah okay, put my body into it. I’ve got it.” Brian said as he did a cute little wiggle of his hips as he raised a quick cup of water to drink.

“Not like that!”

“No I’ve got it, I’ve got it. Bit more soul, bit more soul.”

“Alright. Bit more heart.” Freddie answered at the same time Brian was talking.

“I’ll do that, are we good to go Roy?” Roy raised a hand up for the all clear and that’s when Freddie said.

“Oh then there’s the operatic section.” There was silence as he clapped his hands once and continued, “You’re gonna love it.”

“The operatic section?” questioned Brian.

“I know. It sounds crazy. I don’t know it could be a flop, it could work.”

“I love it Fred. I love it.” Brian said over Freddie’s word as he spoke into his guitar mic for the emphasize on him voting for the operatic section.  Freddie softly chuckled and said.

“What have we got to lose?”

“Nothing.” Laughed Brian.

“If you say so.”

“Okay let’s go.”

“Deacy.” Freddie said as he turned towards Deacy who played the tape back before the guitar solo and Brian gave the solo more soul and this time I felt shivers go up my spine.

Days passed as we kept the recording up, and just like Fred said we were now doing the operatic section of the song.  It was tedious and strainful especially for me since I couldn’t do as high as a normal soprano so that’s why for all the higher notes we left that to Roger.

Currently he was recording the Galileo parts.  At the Figaro line, the recording stopped and Roger asked us.

“How was that?” I turned to Freddie and asked.

“Fred?” He turned towards me and said.

“Higher.” Roy rewind the tape and I said into the microphone.

“Can you go a bit higher?”

“If I go any higher only dogs will hear me.”

“Try.” Freddie answered.

“Freddie’s note sorry.” Said Deacy as he pressed down onto the mic.

“Go on roll the tape.” Roger sighed.

“Overdub 24 of Fred’s….thing.” Roy said as Roger’s Galileo verse came in.  He did go higher than what he did previous doing overdramatic arm waves.  At the end he asked.

“How was that? Better?”

“Higher.” Freddie answered bluntly.  Brian poked his pen in the air signaling to Roger to go higher.

“Jesus how many more Galileo’s do you want?” Roger demanded as he removed the headphone off his head and placed them around his neck.

“Freddie wants to do a few more overdubs.” I answered him.

“Do we even have any more tape left?”

“I do have to say the tape is wearing out. It can’t take much more.” Deacy said.

“Yeah we can’t afford much more what are we? Three weeks overscheduled?” Brian answered.  In the end it took about another hour maybe even 2 of Roger repeating the same four words till it fit Freddie’s vision until he finally said.

“My nuts feel like they’re in my chest right now. Are we done?”

“That’s it honey. He loves you.” I answered him with a grin.

The recording continued and this time we were making better progress as Freddie thought that the first shot at recording the next few lines were what he imagined.

Now all five of us were surrounding one microphone, I was standing between Roger and Brian as we all took each of our operatic sections for the Bismillah and the let me/him go lines.  Finally at the last note we all had to hold out, at the rock n roll solo, we all couldn’t help ourselves as we bounced up and down knocking over the flats behind us.

Freddie and Deacy ended up falling to the ground, Roger nearly tripped over as did I but Brian quickly caught me before I fell over. And the way he was holding me, it was like he was dipping me.  Our noses almost touching each other’s as we once again were staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

Both Brian and I stood back to normal as we both chuckled nervously rubbing the back of our heads.

“Sorry bout that.” I said.

“What—what have you to be sorry for?”

“For always having to save me from nearly getting myself killed. That is after all the second time I’ve fallen near you.”

“I don’t mind saving you though.” He muttered shyly.  I turned to him and shyly smiled and that’s when Freddie said.

“Oh (y/n) darling, isn’t it about time you told something to Brian?” I glared at him and Brian looked to me and I said to him.

“It’s nothing Fred’s just pulling your leg. Much like Roger was several weeks ago. Now then, whose hungry cause I’m cooking tonight.”

Later that night after a successful recording and dinner, I was in mine and Brian’s room reading one of my favorite books when Brian knocked at the door and I looked up and said.

“Oh hey Bri, what’s going on?”

“Nothing much umm….do you have something warm to wear?”

“I—think so let me check.” I asked him why as I went over to the wardrobe and tried to find a jumper or something to wear.

“I want to show you something before we leave back for London.” He answered.  I soon managed to find me my favorite shawl and I took it out and placed it over my shoulders and Brian escorted me out of the home and out into the field.

As we walked up a hill, I soon took notice of a few lanterns that had been laid out lit up so that we could find our way as well as a blanket with a couple of thermoses probably filled with tea or coffee.

“Brian…..did you do all this?”

“Yeah, hope I didn’t go too big I just thought we’d be a little more comfortable on the blanket rather than the grass. And I thought you’d might want some coffee to help keep warm.”

“No it’s lovely. Thank you.” We then sat down on top of the blanket and I took one of the thermoses and opened it up and took a sip of the coffee inside.  It was nice and warm, just what this cool night needed. “So what is it that you needed me out here for?”

“For this.” He answered as he turned the lights from the lanterns off and he scooted over close to me.

At this point my heart was racing and I thought I was going to be ravished by Brian right here right now. “Lay back and close your eyes.” Oh my god he is going to ravish me.

“Wh-what?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked.  Even through the darkness of the night, with the only light being from the full moon I could still see Brian’s eyes showing no ill intentions whatsoever. I nodded and so I did as he asked and closed my eyes and slowly lay back.

I felt Brian take hold of my biceps as he helped me lie back, I soon felt the blanket against me as I felt Brian wrap my own shawl around my tighter.  I then felt him lie next to me as he said.

“Okay, open your eyes.” And when I did, I was greeted by millions and millions of stars.  I let out a gasp.

In all my life, I have never seen these many stars up close.  Ever since I was little, my family and I used to always go up to my nan’s country home in South London but when she passed away the home had to be sold and we couldn’t go there anymore. So the last time I had ever seen this many stars’ was when I was around 10 years old.

Now I have told this story to Brian, even with our playful arguments about whether space or animal studies were more interesting to study.

“Oh Brian it—”

“Shh. Just observe. There you can see Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, and of course Orion one of my personal favorite constellations.” He began to give me a little lecture on the constellations.  Hearing him talk with such passion when it came to anything regarding of space made my heart flutter.

I kept my eyes on him as he continued talking about the stars and the cosmos but then he turned towards me.  Our eyes locked with each other and I felt this spark go up my arm as I said to him.

“Did you know that—when emperor penguins find a mate, they sing to each other?”

“Really?” He breathed out.

“Yeah, they—find each other’s love song and if the song matches with the other’s then they’re…..mated for—” As I spoke Brian’s face moved closer towards me before finally his lips were pressed against mine.

It was shy at first but soon it became deeper and more passionate as Brian cupped the side of my face and I gripped onto his shirt with both my hands.  When we separated, our breaths mixed together and I said to him.

“I love you Brian. I always have but I—I was just too shy to admit it and I didn’t want to risk our friendship or ruin the success of the band and—” I was stopped by another kiss from Brian, this time softer and more gentler but it still made my toes curl and shivers run up my spine.

“You ramble too much.” I couldn’t help the laugh that came out of me and he chuckled as well. “(Y/n) darling you don’t need to be afraid anymore. Because I’ve loved you from the day I first met you. When I first saw you I—I thought I was looking at a star straight from the cosmos.” I smiled at him and said to him.

“You are so cheesy.”

“That’s why I wrote that line in ‘Sweet Lady’ for you my bright star.”

“Well if I’m your bright star, then you are my emperor penguin.” He smiled lovingly and leaned forward and we spent the rest of the night making out and lying underneath the stars.

The next morning the guys were starting to pack up and Deacy came up the stairs as he grumbled out.

“Well I’m ready to get the hell out of here and back into my own bed. I swear that bed in the basement would be better fit for a child.” It was then he took notice of Brian and I on the couch.  His arm wrapped around me and my head resting on his shoulder. “Wait are you—you two are….”

“Yes.” I giggled while nodding frantically.

“Oh that’s great! I’m happy for you both, and about bloody time too. That means I win the bet.”

“Bet? What bet?” asked Brian.

“The lads and I have been polling on whether or not you two would get together. I said you’d be together before the end of this recording. Freddie betted by the end of it, while Roger said not in this lifetime.” Brian and I were flabbergasted by the news.

“Roger Meddows Taylor! Get your arse down here right now!!!” I cried out.  Roger soon came walking down the stairs and he said.

“Jesus woman what’s got your knickers in a twist?” I smiled snidely and walked up to him before gripping his ear tightly like how I sometimes do when he gets a little too flirty with the girls back during our smile days and I said to him.

“Did you and the rest of the boys have a bet in regard to Brian and I?”

“Jesus Christ (y/n) you know I hate it when you pull on the ear. Ow! Okay yes so what of it!” He yelped as I tugged on his ear. Hard.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Well what else were we supposed to do. As I’ve said you two have been pining over each other since I joined Smile.”

“Well jokes on you Rog.” Stated Brian.  I released his ear and he muttered in pain as he rubbed his ear while I walked towards Brian and he stood up and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“You now owe Deacy…..how much did you guys bet?”

“100 quid.” Answered Deacy.

“Are you joking?!” snapped Roger.

“Nope.” the three of us answered. ��Roger grumbled and paid Deacy the 100 quid then he finally turned to us and he said.

“But I am happy that you both are together. Truly. Just don’t let me catch you snogging or shagging each other.”

“Why? This means it’ll be payback for all the times you’ve been with your girls, don’t you think so my big penguin?” I said as I looked up to Brian.

“Yes I suppose it does, my little penguin.” He cooed as he kissed my forehead which immediately grossed both Deacy and Roger as the two of them headed out with their bags.  We both couldn’t contain our snickers and quiet laughter then I said.

“Come on, we’ve got to go pack now otherwise they’ll leave without us.”

“Why not let them? Then we’d finally have this quiet little house all to ourselves. Making beautiful music together, if you catch my drift?” he winked cheekily at me and I smacked his arm and said.

“You dirty rotter!”

“You know you love me.” He whispered seductively in my ear as he tried to seduce me with soft kisses around my upper neck and words of love.

“I’m not sure if I do after that.” I turned around and cupped his face in my hands and seductively kissed his lips.  He moaned into the kiss as his arms left my waist as his hands were now cupping my face.  Once I had him right where I wanted him, I raced up the stairs toward our room, and it only took a split second for Brian to call out.

“You cheeky little minx!” He chased after me up the stairs and into our room.  My laughter echoing through the entire hallway of the house.

*1976. Sydney, Australia*

It was now the start of our next world tour. Ever since the explosion of Bohemian Rhapsody with the public, everyone around the world knew the name Queen. After getting out of Foster’s grip when he had rejected our song and I bet right now he’s kicking himself in the balls for letting go of the biggest rock group ever rising.

As for me and Brian, well……

I was sleeping on the bed when I felt a mess of curls nuzzle into my neck and I felt soft kisses trail up and down my neck. I stirred and turned around to see him holding me close around my waist as I felt him continue his trail of kisses.

“Good morning my love.” he said as he looked up at me.

“Morning.” I moaned out tiredly as I stretched myself out. I then turned to look at Brian and I said to him, “Why did we wait so long for this to happen? We could’ve been doing this for years by now.”

“Because for scientists we are both completely incompetent. But it doesn’t matter, we’re together now though. And that’s all that matters to me.” He said as he lightly pecked my temple before taking my right hand and slowly clasping my hand with his.  He lifted our entwined hands to his lips and kissed each of my knuckles delicately. My heart was all a flutter and the butterflies (no moths would be a better term), the moths in my stomach were fluttering like hell.

Once he was done delicately kissing my knuckles, he soon came on top of me and I now lay on my back staring up at the man I’ve loved for so long.  I lifted my right hand to stroke and playfully swat with my index finger his luscious curls.

“I can’t believe I get to wake up to you every morning.” I said.

“Believe me love if anyone’s lucky here, it’s me. I get to wake up to the most beautiful girl in the galaxy.” I scoffed at his cheesy astrophysics pickup lines but I kept a loving gaze up at him.  He leaned down and softly captured my lips with his and just as he was about to deepen the kiss, a knock was suddenly heard at the door and Roger’s voice said.

“Oi you two get up! We’ve got to get to the concert hall and rehearse! You both can shag after the show!” we both glared at each other and I said.

“How much would it take to replace Roger?”

“Not a whole lot I’d wager.” Brian stated.

That night another concert began and everyone from Australia sang along to all our new songs.  Now came that time of the show for Freddie and Brian to do “Love of my Love” with Brian at the 12-stringed acoustic guitar.

As usual Brian warmed up with some chords of the song and just before Freddie was about to sing he suddenly made an announcement.

“You know this time around, we’re gonna mix things up a little bit. Can we have the lovely (Y/n) Staffell at center stage please?” My eyes widened and I turned to Deacy and Rog who only gestured me to go down.

I walked off the drum risers and a spotlight followed me as the crowd cheered.

“Ahh there you are my dear, now can we please get a seat for her?” Soon a stage handler came out with a four-legged stool much like Brian’s just a bit smaller.  “Thank you dear,” Freddie said to the handler, “Alright (y/n) you sit here,” Freddie helped me into the seat and I asked him.

“Fred what’s going on? We didn’t rehearse this.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen this time around I’d like to introduce Brian May for the lead vocals of Love of my life, and he’d like to dedicate this song to our lovely keyboardist and pianist (Y/n) Staffell.” The audience applauded loudly and I turned to Brian who only smiled at me lovingly before beginning to play the song.

After the introduction was done, Brian’s soulful voice went into the microphone as he began to sing while staring right at me, the crowd sung along.  As usual when this song was played, we had the audience sing to us loud and proud and I actually turned towards the audience hearing them sing.

Play video

*Brian*

Love of my life, you've hurt me You've broken my heart

And now you leave me *Crowd*

Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back Don't take it away from me,

Because you don't know What it means to me

         Tears filled my eyes as I turned back towards Brian.  The crowd applauded at the end which gave Brian the time to lean towards me and whisper in my ear.

        “I love you.” He then kissed my cheek which elected into more cheers from the audience before he started up the next verse of the song.  This time he and the audience shared the song in a perfect blend.

*Brian*

Love of my life, don't leave me You've stolen my love, you now desert me *Brian & crowd*

Love of my life, (can't you see?) Bring it back, bring it back

*Crowd*

Don't take it away from me Because you don't know What it means to me

*Brian and crowd*

You will remember When this is blown over Everything's all by the way When I grow older I will be there at your side to remind you How I still love you

*Crowd*

I still love you

         As he held the note along with the crowd, they cheered but Brian suddenly stopped playing.  I looked at him confused, that was until he took the guitar off his shoulder and Freddie suddenly came in and took it as Brian now got down on one knee.

        I could hear shocked screaming from some of the audience members, but of course I was just dead frozen right there in my seat.  My heart stopped and I swore I thought I was going to pass out. Freddie handed Brian a microphone and Brian said.

        “(Y/n). I have known you all my life. You’ve been there with me since the beginning and you never once left my side. No matter how crazy things got whether our fights were about music, or whether biology or astrophysics was the better science field of study.” I choked out a laugh as the crowd merrily laughed. “You’ve been my best friend, my harmony to my melody, the love of my life. You once told me back on Rockfield farm over a year ago that emperor penguins found their soulmates through song. And now, I want to ask you through this song,”

        He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet black box.  The crowd went absolutely nuts as I held my hands over my mouth as I was physically sobbing hysterically.

        He opened it and inside it revealed a beautiful diamond engagement ring.  It was a nice size rock, not too bit but not to small.  He always knew I never liked big flashy diamonds.  It was on a golden band with two smaller diamond embedded right underneath the main rock.

        “Will you, (Y/n) Staffell become Mrs. (Y/n) May?” The crowd screamed at me to say yes and all I could do was sob.  Too emotional to even say it, I nodded frantically and soon the audience was in an uproar.

        Brian smiled at me before taking the ring out and placing it on my wedding finger. Once it was on, I fell off the stool and embraced Brian as I buried myself into his neck and wept.  When we separated, he cupped my face and kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose before finally capturing my lips with his.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as we kissed each other passionately and the audience just kept cheering and awing at us.  Once air became a dire need, we were forced to separate and I took notice of the mic. I took hold of Brian’s wrist and held it up and as best I could Brian and I sung the last couple lines together.

Our foreheads touching each other’s as we stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

*Me and Brian*

Love of my life Love of my life Ooh, eh

I wept once more and Brian brought me close to him kissing my head as the audience cheered loudly.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Sydney please give it up one more time for Mr. and Mrs. May!” Freddie’s voice said into his microphone. The crowd cheered once more but my focus never left Brian’s as he kept my face cupped in his hands and we kissed one more time.

After the concert, Brian and I were in our shared hotel room once again having a private celebration of our engagement.  I lay there in my bed, the sheets covering my body while Brian stood by the table in just his boxers pouring the champagne into two glasses for us.

“I still can’t believe one day I’m going to call myself Mrs. (Y/n) May.” I said.

“Well it’s best you believe it darling. I’m hoping we can have the wedding immediately once the tour’s done. That is if it’s not too soon for you.” He said the last part concerned.

Well we’ve got about 2 months left of the tour and after that god knows where Queen’s gonna go after that.  Might as well get it over with in case we have to keep postponing it.

“I don’t mind. I’m not looking at a big wedding anyways. Just a few friends, family and as long as I’m wearing a white dress and you’re all dapper up in a tux. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Then we’ll tell the guys in the morning. For now,” he was now lying in front of me facing me on his side as he handed me my champagne glass. “To us Future Mrs. May.”

“To us, Dr. May.” I said as we both clanged our glasses together not once breaking eye contact as we doused down our champagne like a shot of whiskey.  We set out glasses aside and Brian leaned forward and captured my lips with his.

Soon the rest of the night was spent making love to each other, feeling each other’s body and praising one another with words of love.  Of course that morning we got some complaints from Roger since he was technically our next door neighbor but both Brian and I knew that he was happy for us.

[blondecarfucker]

Creatures of the Night (Part 1)

Roger Taylor x Reader

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Fic Summary: You're a videographer, and you get the opportunity of a lifetime as you're invited to direct and film the News of the World documentary. But you don't expect to fall for the photogenic drummer.

Fic Note: I've been thinking about this for a few months, really - ever since I was about to complete my last fic. Now that it's complete, here it is! There's only three parts to it, which I know it's short compared to my last fic, but hey, sometimes there's not as much story to tell. This is a shorter, more intense one. That being said, the chapters are gonna be longer than usual. Hope you enjoy it! I'd love to get some feedback since I haven't really explored this mature, more wild side of the band. And if it's the first time you're stumbling upon my writing, hello and welcome! I have a masterlist in my bio with a huge, long Roger fic called Bed of Roses, and a few requests and challenges - the one for the song Ocean Eyes is a personal favorite. I can't put the link here or Tumblr will make this post disappear - I'm sorry.

Chapter's notes: HELLO EVERYONE im quite proud of this story and i hope you enjoy it as much as i did. its inspired on the documentary so theres a bunch of bits and pieced from there here. not much to say now, so here it goes!!

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: mentions of sex, drug use, cursing

Part 1 - Waxing Moon

The first time you ever saw him, you knew you could never forget his face.

It was the prettiest face you've seen, alright, but that didn't seem to capture it just right - it sounded too childish, too mundane. His face was different - his skin reflected the light beautifully, like marble, little imperfections only adding to the texture, making it more interesting. You wanted to photograph him.

But he was even better being filmed, the way he'd smile when thinking about what to say, the way his messy, bleached hair bounced back the light and burnt the film made him look angelical, a halo around his head - you couldn't wait to see how it looked on the cutting room.

You were a videographer on Tiswas, a dumb gig you've only accepted cause it payed better than your last one, but it was good for your portfolio - Sally James, the host, was unbelievably beautiful, and you had almost no supervision, so you could easily film her in a more cinematic, artistic manner, something you'd never be allowed to do as a cameraman on television news - or cameraperson, as people said uncomfortably when they realized you were a woman operating the camera.

It took awhile for people on TV news to take you seriously - a tiny, young women in oversized clothing and hair pulled back in the middle of old, strong man - but you were their best videographer before you were even hired, getting the job after selling them footage from Woodstock when you were only 19. In the middle of a stoned, drunken haze, you were still cold blooded enough to film the whole festival, almost getting lost from your friends as you tried to get clear audio, doing more artistic work as you filmed during an acid trip. Your parents would kill you if they knew you took your expensive video camera to the festival, but it got you a job.

And what a job. It was you the editor in chief chose to film the signing of the Beatles Agreement, and you followed George Harrison around as he tried to find the room where all the Beatles agreed to end the band that you loved maniacally during your teenage years, trying not to shake as you filmed the reaction on the streets. You wanted to scream along all the desperate girls in their mid-twenties.

But back at Tiswas, the very short interview was cemented in your memory as one of your favorites just because of him. You knew who Roger Taylor was before you've filmed him - you saw his face on the videos for Queen, but you didn't really care for him or the band, really. You almost liked them in their Killer Queen days, just because you loved glam rock, but you felt indifferent to their opera rock - you felt like Bohemian Rhapsody was a bloated mess, and it's success only made the band go on with their overly edited stuff.

But during the lighting test, still makeup-less, a bit shy, having to promote an album alone, probably thinking about flirting with Sally - dazed and confused, photogenic and beautiful - that was the first time you really saw him, no distractions.

So when you got home, a year after the interview, to a voicemail inviting you to direct a documentary for Queen's News of the World Tour, you thought of him, his bright smile permanently marked on your film, even before you thought of the logistics of the job.

A week later, you met the only other crew member that would help you do your job - Josh Barnes, another twenty something videographer that didn't have a portfolio as impressive as yours, but did have a messy curly hair and odd clothing, so he grabbed your attention. You were informed you'd share hotel rooms during the tour.

But Josh wasn't the only one grabbing your attention then, cause that was the day you met the band and the tour crew, and you could swear the band members forgot your name as soon as you told them, Roger only spending a fraction of a second longer looking at you once you were introduced. You wondered if he remembered you.

They set up to perform one of their singles, We Are The Champions, so you can have some footage of them on studio, and you can't help but enjoy the melody, glad it was simple - you could only hope you enjoy the rest of the songs they play on tour, or else it would be a painful gig, since you'll be filming their every rehearsal and every show for the next few months.

You feel like you're being watched by some of the people higher up than you, people that definitely could still fire you on your first day, so you're quick to establish a dynamic with Josh, explaining what you intend to do that day and delegating him tasks.

But once you two go inside the recording booth, where the band is talking and waiting for you to start filming, you realize there's no room for two people to work - one of you would keep appearing on the other's footage. So you tell Josh to stay outside and clear your throat to get the attention of the band.

"Can you take your places? I'm trying to decide how I'm gonna film this", you say, and they exchange glances before getting to their places - you were sure Freddie held a laugh. You knew you were considered bossy, but hell, you always got the job done flawlessly, so be it.

"So Freddie and Roger can't move, since the drum kit and the piano are too heavy to move around quickly", you said, more to yourself them to the rest of the band. "Brian and John, can you lean on these amps?" you ask, and they do as you tell them.

"Sorry for bossing you around already. As a director, that's basically my job. But, if you pay attention, now you're all forming a triangle on the room, so I can fit you all in a well composed shot if I stay behind any of you", you explain, and Roger raises his eyebrow to Freddie, almost asking for confirmation - you heard that Freddie was more of a visual artist as well. He nodded lightly back at the drummer.

So you position yourself behind Freddie's shoulder and start a countdown, so the band understands you're recording. They start playing, and you walk along them - Freddie was looking down as he played the piano, so the lights weren't as flattering, and Brian and John were done with their bits once you focused on them, so you were quick enough to film Roger, basically doing a 360 around him.

You filmed him as you were in front of the drums, and then started to go around them. You wish you had Josh along with you so you could do some closeups - his hands twirling the drumstick on his left hand, the cigarette hanging from his lips, his profile against the black foam covering the walls. But you didn't have another videographer, so you had to do a very conscious effort to stop filming him and go back to Brian and John, now playing their instruments, while you're still dazed by his strong scent - cologne and cigarette smoke, even stronger once you were behind him, his shorter hair on your viewfinder.

You were happy to get his profile later, as they sang the vocals, and a few closeups of his long fingers twirling the sticks in the middle of closeups of John strumming his bass, contre-plongées of Brian on the guitar and shots of Freddie playing the piano against the light.

"She's very decided", you heard Freddie say once you were all outside the recording booth, a small distance between you as you packed. "I like her", Roger said, his voice much raspier than you remembered. "Feels like she knows what she's doing", he completed, and you smiled as you zipped your equipment bag shut.

The other day on studio, you felt like Roger was being funny specifically for your camera - ordering a coffee with one and 3/7 sugars, and saying a song sounded great since his part hasn't been recorded. You watched him tense up as you kneeled down beside him on the mixing desk, turning his face away from you.

It didn't help your work that the whole band was camera shy. John was sweet, and was able to give good answers even in the most improbable interview situations, like the time you interviewed him on a car. Brian was quite honest on his answers, unlike Freddie, usually sarcastic, and Roger, who never really properly answered what you asked. But in every candid shot you tried to get, every spontaneous moment, they shut down, still not used to your presence.

Roger was more open to you and your camera once he was drunk, posing with his bottle of wine with John by his side on studio, giving proper answers to your questions on the album's launch party, a glass of champagne on his hand.

He got used to having you close to him eventually, since one of your favorite angles to shoot was the view from behind his shoulder when Freddie was not on the piano, trying to fit in the small space between Roger and the gong behind him. Roger was tense at first, feeling you mere inches from him, but relaxed as you got used to each other's movements, a choreography where you knew the moments you should go a little further away from him so he could turn to the side and sing, a natural flow developing between the two of you.

Once, during your lunch break, you were talking to Josh when you heard music, so you dropped your sandwich, got your camera and ran to the rehearsal stage in mere seconds, only to find Freddie on the drums and Roger on Brian's guitar, the Red Special, and as soon as Freddie saw you - the camera already on - he almost stopped drumming, but he went on as you and Roger nodded together in encouragement, smiling at each other once Freddie drummed, and you quickly turned your camera to capture Roger's smile again, taking a few seconds to remember you should try to properly compose a shot, moving around to include John on the foreground.

You were happy no one was checking your work but Josh, because it would be embarrassing - you did film Roger more than you should, having as much footage of him as you had of Freddie, the frontman, the one in a gloriously sparkling Paco Rabanne leotard instead of hidden behind the drums.

But Roger was just so goddamn photogenic - his shyness in front of the camera appearing in form of joking around once he realized you were filming, pretending to pick his nose, showing his tongue, taking his robe off dramatically in the dressing room.

It was him on the center of the frame when you filmed without thinking much - in every shot of the band discussing during the rehearsal, or in shots of him and Deacon driving there, or even when you filmed candid moments; it was almost as if you responded unconsciously to his movements, always focusing on him.

You were torn between just thinking that Roger was a good model and actually being attracted to him. You only realized how frustrated he got you once you were already on tour with them, in America.

He sent one of the roadies to tell you that he and Freddie would rehearse Get Down, Make Love. You were in your shared room with Josh, and you'd usually sent him to film this - it wasn't super important, just some extra B-Roll - but he was napping, snoring soundly. Poor guy stayed up later than you, since you gave him the task of organizing the footage and taking care of the equipment. He almost never complained, a sweet boy that always did as you told him, always looking a bit too pretty on his shorts and band shirts, always too respectful to openly flirt with you, but always giving you the space to do so, reminding you he was single in every opportunity he had - nearly boring, but cute, nearby and accessible.

One time you were truly pissed with him - he only caught audio of the band arguing once you were not around to film it, forgetting to take the lens cap off - and he apologized and apologized, never even talking back at you.

So you didn't wake Josh up and went to the venue, across the street from the hotel, to find them already playing.

At first, you got them on wide, but without the lights, it just looked flat. So you started filming closeups.

Roger pouted in concentration in an extreme closeup you did, and you realized your breathing was heavy, right as you watched him lightly rub his lips against the mic groaning "Get down", his face only dimly lit on one side, and you subconsciously pressed your thighs together, kneeling on the side of the drum riser. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to zoom out, your hands a bit shaky as you got up and walked to Freddie, so you could film him and calm down.

But you were so frustrated, you just needed someone to touch you and to be touched as you wanted, needed to touch Roger, but you didn't knew anyone on the cities you were visiting.

That night, you stayed up as Josh organized the footage and the equipment, putting new film into the two cameras with his long fingers - quite similar to Roger's. Once he was done, you decided to take a quick shower, and left the bathroom still wrapped in a towel, the first move you made on him.

That was the first night you fucked Josh out of desire caused by Roger - the first of many.

You couldn't flirt with Roger - he had a gorgeous girlfriend and pretty groupies everywhere you went, so he definitely wouldn't care about you, who never wore any makeup or looked twice in the mirror before going out.

So you enjoyed some careless sex with Josh, and you enjoyed his friendship - you went to the movies together and he asked for advice on his career from you.

You two had agreed on going to a carnival, and he challenged you to climb the ferris wheel before the staff called the cops. It was fun to do these things on tour - you'd never see anyone from any town ever again.

But before that, you needed some footage of Queen's after parties, so Josh followed you around as you tried filming the band having fun, but the only one being more receptive was Roger. Surprisingly, there was no girls around him, but that was probably just him being smart - you could bet he sent home the midwestern girl he was going to fuck as soon as he saw the camera, not wanting to get caught cheating on his girlfriend.

Eventually you had enough footage and called it a day, and told Josh to go organize the footage before you left. "Are you coming with me to the room?" he asked. "No, I'm getting a drink. I didn't enjoy the free booze as much as I should have until now", you said, and he smiled in response before leaving.

"Y/N", you hear a too well-known voice say as you lean on the bar. Roger is walking towards you.

"Roger" you answered, and turned to ask for a drink. But Roger's hand on top of yours distracted you.

"Didn't thought I'd see you in an after party", he said, leaning into the bar as well. You've been this close to him before, but never without your camera between you. You were not used to see him like this, raw, with no viewfinder intermediating the rays of light between your eyes and his, your lips and his. It felt like a step closer to touching.

"What do you mean? I always come", you answer, trying to play it cool, as if you weren't moving your gaze from his eyes to his lips oftenly.

"Yeah, but you're always behind that goddamn camera of yours", he says, and looks at the space behind you, checking to see if you're alone. "And there's always your minion breathing behind your back", he tells you.

"Didn't thought you were watching me", you said, shrugging.

"It just feels fair, considering it's your job to watch me", he says, then looks to the rest of the party. "It's quite voyeuristic, if I may say so", he says, and you laugh.

"Never thought of my job with a sexual undertone before", you lie, tapping your fingers against the bar.

"Really? I actually started to enjoy the feeling of your eyes on me", he smirks, and you feel the blush on your cheeks. Touché.

"Just looking for a nice shot", you answer, looking away from him.

"That's a pity. I guess you're not interested in having a good time with me, then", it's his time to shrug.

"Define 'a good time'", you ask, and he smirks. You quickly think of Josh, waiting for you in your room, but a brief second - and a quick flash of Roger's smile - is all you need to shut the thought off.

"Open your mouth", Roger tells you, and you frown, confused. "Here?", you ask, and he laughs. "Yeah, here", he answers, looking for a small ziplock in his pocket. "Just trust me, alright?", he asks, and you open your mouth lightly.

"Tongue out", he tells you, and you do so. You watch as he picks up a small paper square with his fingertips. "Are you okay with it?", he asks, and you nod a yes.

So Roger's index soon touches the tip of your tongue, leaving the small piece of LSD there to dissolve. He quickly does the same, and calls the barman, ordering Perrier water, which the barman quickly pours in two glasses. Roger passes one of them to you, and raises his glass for a toast.

"A good time", he says, and you repeat it, receiving a quick smile from him before the two of you chug the water down.

It doesn't take very long before you can feel the effects on your body - lights get more intense, and time seemed to slow down a bit. You saw Roger's pupil dilate, and he pulled you to the dance floor.

His touch felt like lighting, electricity gluing your skins together, and he pulled you closer to the sound of Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood, the castanets looping on your brain, Roger's eyes turning completely blue, his hair shining like the sun, blinding you, and you just needed to dance because there was so much energy contained inside of you, and every time you felt him touching your skin, you felt more energy accumulating, and if you didn't dance it out, you would burst into spontaneous combustion.

Yet you needed to feel his skin against yours more and more, and you pulled him closer so could feel him, his smell, his saturated colors, and you ached for his touch, turning around and dancing with your back glued to him, his hand wrapping around your waist to keep you there, close, the loud music bonding you together, melting the two of you against each other, buzzing through the air.

"I fucking hate this song!!" Roger screamed into your ear, but you couldn't stop dancing for a second, so you kept moving, grinding your hips against his.

"Hey, c'mon, let's find my room so I can pick a decent song", Roger managed to say, his breath burning your skin, but you enjoyed the feeling and craved more of it, more of his touch.

"But I can't go somewhere quiet!", you told him, still dancing to the playlist full of shitty hits. "I'll sing to you", he said, and you considered, still dancing, now to Feels Like The First Time.

He started screaming the chorus, and that was good enough for you, so you followed him to the hall. You kept dancing maniacally as he tried to remember his floor, eventually being guided there by one of the crew members, trying to ask where his suite was as he sang high notes to the rhythm of the Foreigner song to keep you satisfied, dancing alone in the hallways.

Once you got to his suite, he turned the radio on, and Immigrant Song has just started. You both started screaming - his voice almost in harmony with Robert's voice coming through the radio - and he jumped into bed, offering you a hand so you could jump along. You did, and you jumped in bed, the water mattress squealing under your weight as you babbling the lyrics, random words coming out of your mouths about ice, snow, midnight suns and Valhalla.

It was followed by Dark Lady, and you kept jumping and screaming on his bed for hours to every song that the radio played, stopping only when you realized you were hoarse, the Stairway to Heaven intro giving you time to recover your breath.

Roger jumped out of bed to get you a bottle of sparkling water on his mini fridge, and you sat down, feeling the effect of the drug passing. He opened the bottle and had a sip before passing it to you. After giving him a weak smile, you drank half of the bottle in only a few seconds. He layed by your side.

You put the bottle down on the ground and lay down with him. His pupils are still big, but smaller than the last time you noticed, so the effect is getting weaker on him too.

That doesn't stop him from lifting his hand, moving it closer to your lips, his warm hand encompassing your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

You don't resist the temptation, moving your own hand to his hair, his teased strands tickling your palm before you entangled your fingers on them.

He slowly pulls you closer to him, and you never saw the blue of his eyes in such close proximity.

Cause you were never this close to kissing him before.

And a glimpse of sobriety hits you - you're about to kiss Roger Taylor in the middle of an acid trip.

That's not how you want it to go; it doesn't feel right, now that you really thought about it.

"Roger, this is not right", you say, and he freezes. "It feels right to me", he says, staring deep into your eyes, relaxing, getting closer to you again.

"It's not that I don't want to kiss you, or sleep with you. I do", you blurp out, almost regretting it, scared of rejection even as he's leaning in for a kiss. "So what's not right?", he asks, frowning.

"I don't want to fuck you while we're tripping. It's gonna be fucking terrible", you say, and he laughs. "I mean it, though. I want it to be good. I'd rather not have you than have you like this", you tell him, and he laughs again.

"You're really that decided, aren't you?", he asks, and it's your turn to laugh. "I guess I am", you say.

"Since we're not fucking, or even kissing, can I still touch you? Your arms, your hair. I'm not tripping as hard, but my skin is itching. I need to touch you", he says, and you nod.

So, with Roger's callous fingers brushing against your soft skin and his husky voice humming Led Zeppelin, you fall asleep.

-

The sunlight makes you see red before you even open your eyelids.

You feel cold, the AC too strong for your liking - Josh wouldn't change the temperature, he knew how you liked it.

So you opened your eyes to find yourself on an empty bed, much bigger than yours. The only sound in the room comes from someone brushing their teeth.

Roger Taylor is only in a towel, wrapped low around his hips, leaning into the sink, his signature halo of hair now wet.

You let out a scream.

The memories from last night hit you at the same time he turns around and looks at you, concerned.

"Hey, you alright?", he asks, and you nod, feeling your legs ache from the exercise you had, jumping like mad for hours.

"Yeah, just couldn't remember everything at first", you said, and he looked down at himself. "Oh, don't worry. We didn't do anything. You had some interesting reasoning behind it", he said, and you blushed.

"Roger, I'm so sorry. All this has been so unprofessional, thank God there's not a show today", you say, and he interrupts you. "It's alright, Y/N. There would be nothing for you to do anyway, since I've spent the morning locked here", he said, and you gasped.

"All morning? What time is it?" you ask, and he points to the clock. "Three in the afternoon. Relax, you said it yourself, it's a day off", he shrugged, and went back to the sink.

"Josh is probably concerned with me, doesn't even know where I am", you murmured. "Is he your boyfriend or something?", he asked, and you nodded a no. "So there's no reason for all this. Besides, the whole crew probably saw you with me, so there's a huge chance he knows your whereabouts", Roger completed.

"God, and we didn't even do anything", you say, getting off bed. "I'm sorry for all this, Roger. I'll go to my room", you said, looking for your shoes. "God, I haven't had such an intense trip ever since Woodstock", you said to yourself, and Roger coughed. "Since when?" he asks, and you repeat, looking at him. "Woodstock", you say, proud, and he walks toward you.

"There's no way in hell you're getting out of this room without telling me this story", he said, and you smiled.

You told him about Woodstock, and the Beatles, only stopping so you could take a quick shower on his bathroom, putting on some of his clean clothes. He wanted your company, and you never realized how lonely he could get, never getting to know anyone who had a more interesting life than his.

He ordered room service for the two of you, a weird pizza full of pineapples, and you took it to his balcony, watching the twilight over the Badlands National Park, a breathtaking view you couldn't believe you were getting to experience, just like you couldn't believe you were experiencing listening to Roger Taylor complain about pineapple on his pizza. "I hate the Midwest so much. How can you fuck up pizza with fucking fruit? I expect this in California, not here", he complains, and you laugh at him.

He looks at you, and for a moment you see him as saturated as you saw last night, his blinding hair and deep blue eyes. "I have an idea", he says, putting his plate to the side and going inside the room.

He comes back with a Polaroid in his hands, and you instantly cover your face. "I don't like to be photographed, thanks", you say, but he kneels down in front of you, trying to get to the same level as your eyes.

"C'mon Y/N, it's just fair. You're filming me all the time!!" he complains, and you sigh. "That's my job, Roger".

"Hey, hey, it's fine", he says, moving your hands down and away from your face. "I just want to see you the way you see me", he tells you, positioning the camera so he can watch you through the viewfinder, his free hand moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I just want to see you", he whispers, letting the camera slowly move down as he caresses your cheek with the hand that was on your hair.

He brushes his thumb over your lower lip again, and this time, you lean into him.

And even though you're sober, you could swear you feel the same electricity connecting you as his plump lips move against yours.

---

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