#but it's raw passion mixed with “seriously??? HIM???” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwauroras · 10 months

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THROUGH THE INFINITE CANVASES OF YOU. (제2장)

pic sources in order left -> right: pinterest, pinterest, pinterest

wc ≈2.6k. unedited. painter!seonghwa x artstudent!reader (ft. musician!san, artstudent!wooyoung and artstudent!rockstar!hongjoong). written in two different perspectives - third person for seonghwa and second person for the reader. no massive genre yet - but the story does develop a little more. hongjoong is introduced as wooyoung's friend. hongjoong jokingly flirts with the reader. hongjoong calls the reader "sweetheart". hongjoong and the reader mildly curse.

“hyung.. this is beautiful.”

“you think?”

“absolutely!”

seonghwa and san stood side by side in the art studio, their eyes fixed on the finished piece that would become the cover art for san’s new album. the canvas displayed an absolutely breathtaking combination of colors, and the raw emotions from the soul seemed to leap off the surface. to say it was capturing and alluring would be a total understatement. it was the perfect combination of paint, love, passion and longing - a true window into both artists’ souls.

san’s eyes glimmered with awe as he took in and absorbed every detail. the painting depicted seonghwa’s elusive muse with hauntingly expressive eyes, ones full of love and fear and yearning, painted with a delicate and carefully crafted mix of blues, purples, and hints of gold. behind them was a whirlwind of vibrant, dramatic and contrasting hues, capturing both the intensity of emotions that san poured into his music, and the conflict of emotions seonghwa fought within.

they both continued to stand in silence, letting the artwork speak for itself. the whole room seemed to hold its breath, even the dust particles seemed to stop in time - as if in complete deference for the deep, profound connection between music and its visual counterpart.

san finally broke the silence, and time seemed to flow again.

“i mean - seriously, seonghwa. this is more than i could have ever imagined. i would be lying if i said i was surprised though - only you could pull this off.”

seonghwa smiled humbly, a soft pink blush creeping back onto his cheeks.

“you’re too kind, san. and i want you to know that - it has been an honor collaborating with you. my only regret is not doing it sooner.”

with a chuckle, san lightly punched seonghwa on the shoulder.

“then may this be the first of many.”

“... hey san?”

“mm?”

seonghwa took a deep breath.

“i listened to a bit of the title track. you know, just so i knew how to put your own voice, your own words, your own emotions, into visual form. and i’m just curious…what inspired you?”

san’s smile softened as he averted his gaze, eventually opting to close his eyes and take a moment to relive the melody before answering seonghwa’s question.

“what inspired me? well… it's a mix of things, really."

“you don’t have to tell me.”

"no, it’s okay. honestly, the entire album, is a reflection of my whole life journey. it's about the highs and the lows, the love and the heartbreaks, the gains and the losses, and the constant search of meaning and purpose. each song represents a different chapter of my life. except for one.”

“that’s beautiful, sa- sorry, except for one?”

san meekly looked back at the painting, his eyes tracing the careful, delicate strokes and vivid colors that bounced back at him.

“yeah. the title track you mentioned. i wrote and sang it for you. well, more so how i think you feel about the person you keep painting.”

seonghwa’s eyes widened in surprise, his head snapping to look at the other with complete awe. his heart began to race, and his hand quickly flew to his chest. the room returned to its original silence - one that seemed to go even deeper as san’s words sank in. the humble painter was completely taken aback as he struggling to find the right words to such a jarring reply.

"f-for me?" seonghwa finally managed to splutter, something san smiled warmly at.

“yeah. for you. and that person. i mean... even though i said i wasn’t able to understand you, anyone can still see the true love and longing you have etched into your features. you’re not able to see the way you look at them whenever you bring them to life through your passion of art. and that's what inspired the song. it’s my own personal perception of your own personal emotions."

seonghwa stood there, still stunned by what he had just heard. the thoughts and emotions that had been buried deep within him, the ones he thought he had concealed and hidden away from the rest of the world, had just escaped san’s lips in word form.

"i… never expected you to see it," seonghwa murmured, his face now tinted pink. "you know me. i’m not an emotional person. i thought i was good at hiding my feelings."

san laughed and shook his head.

“hey, hyung, listen. i do know you, and you’re right - but also incredibly wrong. while you may be good at hiding your emotions from others, you can’t hide them from me. and when it comes down to your art, your mystery person, you can’t hide them from anyone. the vibe is beautiful, at times bittersweet - so in a sense, hyung, you and your muse have become my muses.”

the revelation that san’s title track was inspired by seonghwa and his emotions left the studio enveloped in yet another silence - this time one of profoundness and comfort. it simply became a moment between two artists and an enthralling muse.

"san," seonghwa finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “thank you for understanding me in a way that no one else ever has. and… thank you for giving my thoughts and my muse a voice."

“hey, you don't have to thank me. i couldn’t have done it without you.”

“and through the pages of time, i’ll still search every space, and through the darkness of shadows, i’ll still chase every trace, and though you maybe may be a love undefined, i’ll give to you this promise, ‘til our destinies can entwine…

“through the realms of dreams, i’ll journey far, for the love that's written in every star, with every heartbeat, i’ll stay true, until the day, the day i finally find you.”

“oh my god, wooyoung…”

you gawked at your best friend, who grinned at your reaction.

“so? what do you think?”

“i think it’s amazing. you really wrote that?”

“yeah.”

you shook your head at him, the rest of your body paralyzed in its place.

“dude, you have to take that to a recording studio or something.”

“hah, you really think so?" wooyoung replied with a playful smirk, trying to hide the genuine feelings of relief he felt at your positive response.

they were inspired by your love for your muse, after all.

but of course, he could never tell you that. not when you were already deeply troubled by the unfulfilled feelings of love and longing you had for him. he figured if you were to know, you would figure it out in your own.

“maybe i should consider it - though, i don’t want to put an end to everyone else’s careers.”

you nudged him lightly with your elbow, poking your tongue out at him playfully before letting out a laugh.

"okay, mr humble. if you’re going to be like that, i’ll take it all back. the fame’s already getting to your head and you haven’t even left the room yet.”

feigning the utmost shock and betrayal, wooyoung gasped dramatically and draped an arm over his eyes - which in turn, resulted in probably your biggest eye roll to date.

“oh y/n, you wound me once more! you’re so willing to retract your compliments - were your words merely superficial?”

you couldn't help but laugh loudly, drawing a few curious glances from your classmates. which of course, only resulted in wooyoung laughing loudly at you too.

“okay, okay. come on, wooyoung, you know i’m just kidding," you teased, nudging him again. "but seriously, i think you should at least try and contact a few studios. even if you don’t hear back, it’s worth the effort. you have a true gift for art. it’s beautiful, just like your photography."

as he absorbed your words, wooyoung’s playful demeanor shifted to a warm, gentle one. he looked at you softly, a small smile etched into his features.

“thank you, y/n. all jokes aside, your support means a lot to me. i’ll consider it, i promise.”

returning his smile, you took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. but before either of you could even have the chance to speak again, a scoff caught your attention.

peering over the shoulder of the purple headed boy in front of you, your eyes landed on another student, who you immediately recognized as one of the more recent transfers into the fashion department. you guessed he would roughly be around wooyoung’s height if it weren’t for his shoes, he sported a rather colorful mullet and he was dressed head to toe in a messy array of clothes and accessories.

you arched an eyebrow at him, noticing a glint of amusement in his intense gaze. he looked like he was holding back a laugh, as if he found something amusing about the conversation you were having with your best friend.

"what?" you questioned, eyes narrowing at the unique man.

rather than replying, he shot you a wink before making his way over, seemingly unaffected by your scrutiny.

“nothing," he replied casually, his chunky platforms causing him to tower over wooyoung - something you had to hold back on joking about. “i just couldn't help but overhear the two of you talking about music. and then some sappy shit."

a playful grin tugged at wooyoung’s lips as he sized up the new arrival.

“oh, so you were eavesdropping, huh? you’ve got quite the sharp ear. but i suppose that’s to be expected by such an esteemed musician like yourself.”

you glanced between the two, a puzzled look taking over your once suspicious expression. you were aware of this guy - he was hard to miss - but they seemed to share a camaraderie that you weren't aware of.

“wait, you two know each other?" you blinked, still trying to figure out the dynamic between them.

the vibrant multicolored haired man extended a heavily ringed hand, swiping his pierced tongue along his bottom lip and shooting you another wink.

“pleasure to make your acquaintance, sweetheart. the name’s hongjoong. but you could call me yours for tonight, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

you quickly pulled your hand away from his rather tight grasp, a slight blush creeping onto your face.

“uh… nice to meet you too, i guess. but i think i’ll stick to calling you hongjoong."

“yeah,” wooyoung snickered, clearly amused by the interaction. “unfortunately for you, ‘sweetheart’ isn’t really the one for cheesy pickup lines, hyung.”

“oh, i see how it is,” hongjoong chuckled, visibly unfazed by both of your responses. “well, the offer still stands.”

you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by this newcomer you now knew was named hongjoong. he certainly had a magnetic personality that demanded everyone’s full attention, but despite his playful demeanor and rather straightforward flirting, there was still an underlying feeling of genuine warmth radiating off of him. wooyoung looked comfortable - and you laughed when hongjoong flicked his forehead.

“you know, i appreciate it, but i’m still gonna pass,” you replied to him. “so how do you guys, you know, know each other?”

“wooyoung and i met when the fashion department and the photography department collaborated on a project last semester. we made the pieces, they took the pictures. then they served as our professional photographers when we had a showcase modelling our creations.”

wooyoung chimed in, his eyes glinting with fondness as he recalled the encounter.

"we were assigned together. honestly, i thought it would be a disaster at first. hongjoong has such a wild and bold sense of style and i’m all about subtle elegance. but somehow, our creative differences ended up complementing each other perfectly - i really got to gain some experience with experimental looks and got to expand my portfolio. it could really help me if i wanna apply for something surrounding haute couture.”

as you listened to wooyoung speak about his collaboration with the uniquely dressed man with a belt made of chained up teddy bears, you couldn't help but admire a rare instance where fire and ice were actually compatible. never in a million years had you thought someone as poised, sophisticated and traditional as wooyoung could come close to being friends with someone as bright, daring and unconventional as hongjoong. but alas - here it was in front of you, a strong friendship between two polar opposites (besides their humor).

“that’s amazing," you said, nodding your head in approval. "i think it’s amazing how two ‘contradicting’ art styles can create one extraordinary art form.”

hongjoong smirked at your words and took a little bow.

“thank you, sweetheart. you bet it was extraordinary. our work had people talking for weeks. did you read the local paper? we got an article and everything. it’s all about pushing boundaries, you know? not just in art, but every aspect of life is more exciting when you dare to step out of your comfort zone and take that risk."

you nodded again in agreement, finding yourself captivated by hongjoong's outlook on life.

“besides,” hongjoong continued matter-of-factly, “the exposure really helped with my music career.”

you tilted your head, eyes darting to wooyoung.

“wait. music career?”

“yep,” wooyoung reaffirmed. “hongjoong’s in an indie rock band.”

you were taken aback, pleasantly surprised by the sudden turn in conversation. though the subject of hongjoong being a musician came up earlier, you weren’t sure how serious wooyoung was being.

"an indie rock band? that’s incredible! why didn’t you say so when you scoffed at us?”

hongjoong shrugged with a nonchalant grin.

“you judged a book by its cover sweetheart. but yeah, now the cat’s out of the bag, we started playing gigs at local venues and have been slowly building our presence in the music scene. now we play at festivals, and shit. you and wooyoung should come along next time. i’d like to see some familiar faces that don’t belong to the groupies trying to get into my pants.”

the more you learned about hongjoong, the more fascinated you became. he was a true artist in every sense of the word, an epitome even, excelling in multiple creative avenues. suddenly it all made sense why his and wooyoung’s friendship worked so well – despite their differences, they were both passionate and unafraid to explore their own personal boundaries.

“you know, that sounds great, i’d love to come to one of your gigs one day. hey, i was just talking to wooyoung about the possibility of him making music. what do you think? genuinely this time, don’t be a smartass.”

“well,” hongjoong’s eyes shifted back to wooyoung as he considered your question. “i didn’t know wooyoung was interested in making his own music, but from what i know about his ethic and from what i heard just before, i don’t doubt he would excel in the industry. tell you what - i’ll speak to the others, maybe we could collaborate on something.”

as soon as hongjoong’s preposition left his lips, a spark of excitement danced in both your and wooyoung’s eyes. the idea of combining their talents seemed like an incredible opportunity to create something special - and your mind began filling with possibilities.

it was apparent that wooyoung thought the same, as he barely managed to get out a faint “are you serious?" - something hongjoong chuckled at.

“of course! i think our styles could create something powerful. i trust your artistic abilities, so let’s give it a shot. but just know, i hold a high standard and i’m going to be tough. i may believe in freedom of expression but i’m still a perfectionist.”

“understood, hyung. i won’t let you down."

TAGLIST: @hwalysm, @downbadreading

#kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez oneshots #ateez fluff oneshot #ateez fluff imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #park seonghwa oneshot #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #ateez series #ateez angst

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oraclekleo · 2 years

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Lee Chan (Seventeen) Kinky* Reading

Hello and welcome!

I’m Kleo and I’m here to present some k-pop related tarot readings to you.

Disclaimer:

I would like to state that all these readings have a purely entertainment nature and their purpose is to bring some fun into my and hopefully yours lives. I have never ever met any of the idols / actors / celebrities in my readings, I don’t know them personally. Tarot reading isn’t an exact science and I can never guarantee any of it. Most of it is my intuition mixed with fantasy. Don’t take these readings seriously and don’t base any important decisions on tarot readings only, use your common sense.

If you wish to request a tarot reading, please read the pinned post on my profile first to see the instructions on how to request. I only do readings for idols / actors / celebrities of 18 years of age or older. Requests for readings including younger people will be automatically dismissed. If you feel uncomfortable with these tarot readings, do not engage in reading my posts. Thank you for understanding.

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Deck: Poe

Spread: Kinky*

Questions:

Position

Libido

Turn On

Kink

Dirtiest Secret*

Full Name: Lee Chan

Stage Name: Dino

Group: Seventeen

Masterpost: Seventeen

Lee Chan

Dino (Seventeen)

Deck: E. A. Poe

Spread: Kinky*

Position - 6 of Pentacles

Dino is not much into power play in a relationship. He believes both parties should give and take equally. He might tend to be more generous than his lover with his affection as it’s his nature to give his all.

Libido - 8 of Wands

Dino is a young vital man and he’s pretty quick to grow passionate and wild. His desire is fiery and fast and all consuming. He might be impatient when he’s with his lover. Dino can become a bit feral and savage. His lover might experience biting and marking. Dino is likely to be also highly vocal with his lover. In passionate moments it’s not rare for him to growl, moan or even howl.

Turn On - Page of Swords

Dino is likely to feel attracted to someone bright, smart and witty, someone with both brains and spark in the eyes. He’s likely to feel enchanted by someone who can play cute but isn’t a soulless doll. He likes to be intellectually challenged in a playful way.

Kink - 4 of Wands

Naughty horny Dino. He’s likely to catch on fire in inconvenient situations and it’s not a surprise that pinning his lover to the table, kitchen counter or a wall is his favourite thing. It allows him to go down on them fast.

Dirtiest Secret* - 10 of Wands

Dino might secretly dream about trying orgies but he’s not likely to actually pursue this dream. He likes it fast and even rough and raw. His lover needs to be someone similarly enthusiastic.

Thank you for reading!

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Comment! 💬

Reblog! 🔁

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Any Feedback is Welcomed ✅

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giudizio-au · 2 years

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CHARACTER ROLES

First and foremost, I think it’s important to share the roles of every character. (Note that this was originally-and still-written to be meloghia centric, though the larger story does not heavily involve them..)

GHIACCIO

A prince. He lives in the southern woods fully intending to be alone. He is hiding there from his parents, since he has difficulties following the lifestyle he is supposed to and has never met someone he doesn’t get into a conflict with. He has a bad reputation among his territory and among people in general- he is taken as a joke, or as someone people’d say “yikes” about on the street. But don’t get mixed up- He loves his solitude and has become self sufficient, not wanting anyone to get in his way. His goal is to stay away from people and live a free life.

MELONE

Another prince. Manipulative asshole. He is currently reported missing in his own territory, as he was cursed and temporarily turned into a frog by southern woods witch Risotto Nero. This was a punishment for “disrupting the peace of the forest” (he went around and slept with the wrong people and created relationship drama.)

Melone was engaged as a prince but ran off with no intent of getting married, especially in an arranged marriage. He is different to Ghiaccio, though. He is more than competent in all his princely duties, even being considered talented by the kingdom. Even so he often gets into trouble or disobeys his parents, which he is not ashamed of. He has a very good reputation for his looks and performance, even with his known shady behavior (things like his affairs and his drug use.) He has little concern for other people. His goal is to have fun and live a free life.

FORMAGGIO

Formaggio is a hunter in the southern woods. He was born to a human family, but for reasons he can’t remember lives in a cabin alone. He is uncivilized, not afraid to eat raw meat or relieve himself when he feels. He is not ashamed and has no intention to change how he lives. His goals are unknown. He is not just a dumb man he is feral and will run on all fours he is seriously strange

ILLUSO

Illuso is a frog that Melone befriended while under his curse. He is, strangely, much smarter and decent than the other frogs. He was perfectly capable of keeping up with Melone’s human self. Once Melone was transformed back, he took Illuso with him. Illuso is always disappearing and reappearing out of nowhere, and often eavesdrops. His goal is to learn.

PROSCIUTTO

Prosciutto is an elf, and a worker at “The House of Broken Hearts.” He thinks the name is corny, but Risotto Nero, the owner, does not. Prosciutto simply works there and follows Risotto’s orders. He wants to support him in any way he can, and does so by taking orders and giving customers nasty looks. His goals are unknown.

PESCI

Pesci lives at The House under the care of Prosciutto. He is a half human half bird creature brought to life by Risotto. One rainy night, there was a shriveled bird on their doorstep. Risotto cast a spell on it to make it into something Prosciutto could take care of (rather than working for him^1) Now, he lives there with Prosciutto and has developed a passion for piano. He entertains the guests. He hopes to become an even stronger pianist, but also hopes to have a family.

RISOTTO NERO

Risotto is the only creature of his kind. He has gray skin, white hair, red eyes and ears that point out. He is a witch, and is extremely talented with magic. He runs a bar, which also offers certain magic services. In the forest community it’s known that you go there when you are not at peace, or when you find yourself “broken hearted.” Then he will perform magic based on your situation-and while this magic may not make sense initially, it always achieves it’s goal in the end. His goals are unknown.

SORBET AND GELATO

Sorbet and Gelato are two kooks in the woods. They are proficient fortune tellers, and if brought materials and a fee can give you your future or some advice. They have a history with Risotto. Their goals are only to live together and be crazy. And to make money.

#la squadra #I’m putting tags so I have some reach but also I don’t want negative attention hmmmmm #la squadra di esecuzione #giudizioau

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mrwinterr · 3 years

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Over & Over

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Pornstar!Female Reader

Summary: You’re an up-and-coming adult film star secretly eager to work with the popular Bucky Barnes, and with just the right connections, your paths cross much sooner than later.

Warnings: Adult themes. Smut 18+ (unprotected sex, vaginal penetration and instructional fingering, oral [male & female receiving], size kink, spit & cum play, a smudge of male dominance), dirty talk and language.

Disclaimer: I don’t know how the porn industry works; this was just written for fun.

Title Inspiration: “Over & Over” by Smallpools

A/N: After doping up on strong painkillers wasn’t enough, I thought releasing endorphins would help ease my headache, so once again watching porn inspired another fic. Idk. I’m a mess. Enjoy!

Slipping on your oversized sunglasses, you walk along the rectangular outline of the hotel’s lavish pool, to one of the vacant lounge chairs next to the redheaded goddess, whose wings you were taken under and could gratefully call a close friend. You hadn’t known a single soul when you packed up and moved west to Los Angeles at 18, but you knew you were destined for more than what your humdrum life back at home could offer.

The porn industry wasn’t your first choice at a career in entertainment, but the starving profession wasn’t paying the bills fast enough. You weren’t going to survive in L.A. another year juggling to pay for tuition and stay enrolled in acting school from the income of working menial jobs and booking small gigs. However, one minor role as an extra in a one-night stand sex scene of a TV show, you catch the eye of the multitalented adult film actress Natasha Romanoff.

It was pure coincidence she was also casted, playing a bigger role, of the same episode, but she saw more in you in your less than 15 seconds of fame than most casting agents did before offering you a chance to shadow her. You knew she looked familiar and you were no stranger to watching porn, but when you’re as down on your luck as you were, you went all in and soon enough countless scenes now under your belt within a year, you’re porn’s best female newcomer.

“There’s this year’s Best New Starlet!” Natasha proclaims loudly for almost everyone around to hear.

Lucky for you, the shades conceal the roll of your eyes at her comment as you kick off your flip-flops and remove the thin cover up to reveal your skimpy bikini. You dare look over at her in time to catch her mocking reaction, jaw dropped from your attitude.

“After all I’ve done for you,” she says, placing a hand to her heart, feigning hurt.

The pair of you laugh at your nonsense and after she helps you with applying the appropriate amount of sun care protection, you recline in your seats and attempt to soak up some sun. It was a much-needed break with the long stressful week of the award show now behind everyone. Your hard work had paid off and after all you did learn from the best.

Your predecessor before you, Natasha was also a former Best New Starlet, and now is a household name in pornography. She didn’t welcome a lot of people into her inner circle, but she had plans to one day direct and knew she had to find the next big thing before anyone else to take her place.

“Hello, ladies,” comes from the voice of this year’s Director of the Year and other close friend Wanda Maximoff.

“Hey Wanda,” you greet her by sitting up to give her a proper hug.

You met her through her twin brother, Pietro, who happened to be your first co-star and was very welcoming and caring to you. The twins took care of you during your first few months starting out. Much like Natasha did for you, you help her administer the same amount of sunscreen on her body.

“Congrats on your achievement,” she says wholeheartedly, looking over her shoulder at you as you finish up on her back, and even under the heat of the sun, she could still see the blush creep up on your face.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Natasha comments casually, to which Wanda nods enthusiastically, only speeding up the process of the rose tints on your cheeks to spread all over your face. They were your biggest fans and supporters; you were so happy you could make them proud.

“I owe it all to the queen herself,” you say, downplaying your achievement and turning the attention to your mentor in Natasha. She scoffs at that and teases you about just taking the damn compliment. You put in the work; it was all you.

“Seriously, you deserved it,” Wanda says honestly, and you finally accept the praise.

“So, what’s next for miss Director of the Year?” Natasha asks leaning on a propped elbow, body facing towards you and Wanda.

“Well, I managed to finally book Bucky Barnes in an upcoming project…” she starts out, but the moment you heard his name slip from her lips, the rest almost didn’t matter.

Bucky Barnes was somewhat of a legend. There wasn’t a model or director that didn’t want to work with him. The man was downright gifted in every aspect and his work speaks for itself. Before you broke onto the scene, you’d gotten off to his videos, and only dreamed of one day starring in a scene with him, but you were still new to this world.

As a promising star, you had a long way to go and tons of plots, positions and people to still experience, so landing a role with someone like Bucky Barnes wasn’t entirely written in your plans any time soon. Then again, your first girl-on-girl scene was with your mentor herself, so anything could happen, right?

“I just haven’t found my girl yet,” was the next thing you pick up Wanda say the moment your head comes back from the clouds, “...I have all this momentum now that I want this to blow everyone away, especially Stark.”

Tony Stark was her rival. It was a friendly competition amongst friends. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work for him yet. He was a playful character and had directed some of the best adult films out there, Wanda just happened to be the better of the two this year…

“Sorry, I’m retired,” Natasha reminds her and repositions herself on her back.

“Fuck you,” Wanda says playfully to which Natasha responds with a finger in the air before she clarifies, “I was hinting at this year’s Best New Starlet…” and slyly looking in your directly.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. Your head can’t even start processing that you’re finally getting the opportunity to work with Bucky.

Wanda rolls her eyes at your obliviousness, “no, last year’s Best New Starlet. Hell no! Of course, you!” You respond in the same manner as your mentor, who is more than amused at you also following her lead, and flip Wanda off. Wanda snatches your hand to bring it away from her face, “I’m serious!”

“I-I don’t know, Wan,” a part of you is a little scared that you’re not going to be able to keep up with someone as established and with the star power as Bucky, “...like you said, you have all this momentum behind you. I don’t want to fuck this scene up because I don’t have a lot of experience.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Natasha pipes up on the other side of you. “This is the perfect role for you!” She sees the questionable look on your face and sighs before explaining. “You’re a fresh face and rising star! People are lining up to book you, Stark included.”

“Nat is right. You’re a hot commodity now! I need someone who is a little inexperienced to mix with someone that is,” Wanda further explains her premise, “let him take the lead, but at your pace. I need it to be raw and passionate. People love that shit!” They were right, he had all the experience, and you were a fresh loveable face. It was the perfect combination.

You remain quiet for several seconds before Natasha rats you out, “and don’t even try to act like you don’t want to work with Barnes. This is your fantasy come to life.” Way to throw you under the bus like that…

There’s no denying your goal to work with him. He’d been in this business much longer than you had, you didn’t think your paths would ever cross on a set, but the opportunity couldn’t have presented itself in a more perfect point in your career.

The room is very pristine. White walls with a king size bed, also adorned in white sheets, fluffy pillows scattered at the top, minimal furniture around to make it look realistic, and the lighting was just right. Wanda had received a hefty budget after her recognition that’s for sure.

“Alright, girly, let’s get you on the bed!” Wanda happily directs.

You nod silently, remove your footwear and plop down on the center of the large mattress. You decide to leave your legs sprawled on one side of your body, settling on a bashful position. It’s not hard for you because although you agreed to do this and have done several scenes, internally, you’re freaking the fuck out. Unbeknownst to you, it’s all part of your charm; the innocence you somehow still radiated was an all too endearing quality and actually sexy.

Even your attire was pretty modest, opting for a more casual look with black leggings and a tight long sleeve that accentuates your figure and shows off the right amount of cleavage. It was something that you could easily wear out in public, which again was a part of your brand in being as natural as possible, but come the right circumstances, when it was time to roll you could turn on the right switch.

“We’ll start off like a typical casting interview before we bring Bucky in and then we’ll go from there. Sounds good?” She runs down the plan with you, fixing a few strands of flyaway hairs on your head before back away from the bed. With a thumbs up and a smile from you, she starts recording.

“Welcome, Best New Starlet of the Year!” Wanda greets from behind the camera.

“Hi,” you politely reply with your signature sweet smile and a wave to the screen.

These scenes start off with a small interview recounting your tale into the porn industry leading up to your recent achievement and even delving a bit into your personal life before the topic changes to your co-star.

“So, how excited are you to work with Bucky today?”

No matter how hard you practiced at keeping a straight poker face, that was something you were unable to master from Natasha, and the blush couldn’t be contained.

Fidgeting at the hem of your top, you open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. You’re overly flustered at the thought of Bucky and he wasn’t even in front of you yet. You don’t want to sound like a fool and ruin the atmosphere. Wanda mouths words of advice from where she sat in the director’s chair, “be honest.”

“Um, I’m...nervous,” you say truthfully.

“Nervous?” She questions, urging you to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s Bucky Barnes! He’s hot and he’s got so much experience. I’m kind of scared I’ll be boring,” you finish explaining and hope to God that Natasha doesn’t kill you afterwards, or with that answer let Wanda down, but the smile on her face sends you a wave of assurance.

Maybe you could do this...

Earlier that day, Bucky had already recorded his little opening scene. Wanda had called him to report on set before you were scheduled to arrive.

On the contrary, Bucky was also a tab bit anxious to work with you. He’d seen some of your work and more so heard about your talent from his own best friend, Steve Rogers.

He didn’t deny it, he was very much attracted to you and he wanted a chance to work with you too. Bucky wasn’t a jealous person, which made working in the porn industry easy for him, but when he had to hear Steve recount his scenes with you, he couldn’t help but want to sock his own childhood friend. He didn’t of course, but the rage was evident and his other friend, Sam Wilson, took some sick pleasure in teasing him over it. In fact, the eccentric personality of the trio of friends, decided to tag along with Bucky to introduce himself to you and get under his skin a little more.

“What’s going on in that nasty head of yours?” Sam poked at Bucky as they made their way over to Wanda, who was by the camera setup going over a script with another stagehand. When Bucky doesn’t respond, it provokes Sam even more, “no way, you’re nervous!”

Bucky sighs fed up with dealing with the anxiety brewing ever since he found out he was going to star in this film with you. “Shut the fuck up, will you? Of course, I’m nervous,” he says, trying to remain calm.

“Dude, you’ve slept with some of the hottest people in the world and millions of people have seen you naked. Why is one girl any different?” Sam wonders.

“I don’t know, ok. She just seems so down-to-earth and normal?” Bucky attempts to explain. You were real. His work was just that, it was a work, and he was afraid that it would be different with you. He could say he was almost intimidated by you.

“Yeah, as if I don’t have to hear that enough from Rogers…” Sam chimed in. Steve had nothing but high praise for your performance. In fact, his testimony helped expose you a little further. He was an honorable performer and a respected one, so they took his word on you. “Maybe, I’ll be her next co-star,” and just like that Sam ruined a moment.

“God, I hate you,” was the last thing exchanged between the two friends as they finally reached Wanda. She warned Sam to behave and gave Bucky a quick rundown before instructing him to hop on the bed.

Bucky’s interview starts a little differently than yours. Having already been a more established performer than yourself, no one needed his background story. The only thing Wanda wanted out of him was his plans and opinion on you.

“Well, I don’t know too much about her, personally speaking...but everyone seems to love her,” Bucky’s answer was a bit bland for Wanda.

“She’s a great person to work with,” she comments and that’s a tactic most directors used to get talent to keep talking.

“That’s what Steve keeps saying,” he says with somewhat of an awkward light laugh. He could see Sam facepalming next to Wanda at that lame answer.

“Yeah, you don’t win best female newcomer for nothing,” Wanda points out. If anyone was the lucky one here, it was Bucky. He was climbing up in age and you were the next big thing. You were the real star of this film not Bucky. She was counting more on you to deliver than him.

“That’s right. She’s a very talented performer,” Bucky says, and this small comment opens up a can of worms for Wanda to build up on.

“Oh, so you’ve seen some of her work?” Bam! He was caught.

Bucky’s mouth starts twitching slightly and Wanda and Sam are smirking from their spots as they watch the gears in Bucky’s mind start turning faster trying to think of something. The only piece of advice Wanda gives is “be honest.”

He sighs, the jig was up. Smooth Bucky Barnes was caught red-handed, “yeah, I’ve watched some scenes. I’ve seen her in person a few times too…”

“Wait,” Wanda interrupts him abruptly. She knew you were attracted to Bucky, but never knew of any encounters between you two, “when did you meet her?”

“I haven’t,” Bucky starts, which causes a look of mass confusion on Wanda’s face before he follows up, “formally. I haven’t met her formally, but I’ve seen her at a few parties and at the award show...I was just nervous to walk up to her,” the words just kept flowing out of his mouth and he inwardly cringed at how awkward he might’ve sounded.

Sam was amused by his embarrassment, but Wanda was pleased with this result. Bucky was good at what he did and that included him trying to play it cool, which he did well on screen, sometimes.

“You know she was actually thrilled to find out she would be working with you,” Wanda said, stretching the truth. The truth was, you hadn’t verbally confessed that, at least not yet.

“Really?” Bucky asks all too hopeful, his mood noticeably perking up.

“Yup! Ever since she won Best New Starlet of the Year, people have been lining up to book her, but she chose this project. You were the deal breaker, Barnes,” she fabricated and hoped this all worked out for you two in the end.

“Wow, who would’ve thought this has-been still had it in him?” He jokes at himself. His humility would get the best of him in every situation.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! You didn’t win Best Male Performer of the Year again for nothing!” Wanda says and then steers the interview to a close.

After wrapping up Bucky’s scene, he’s allowed to stay in another room with a monitor. At first, he thinks it’s to help him prep for the scene, but to his surprise it’s a live feed of your interview and he starts clinging onto your every word. Enthralled by your journey, work ethic and he gets flustered all over again hearing you talk about your equal eagerness to work with him.

“You know, if anyone is the lucky one in this situation, it’s Barnes,” Wanda reminds as your interview comes to an end.

“Right,” you sarcastically remark.

“Are you ready for us to bring Bucky in?” She asks.

“It’s now or never,” you reply.

You watch the doorknob twist and the door open to slowly reveal Bucky. Where do you even start with him? He just looked like the total package. His gaze immediately on yours. As he makes his way towards the bed you’re still sitting on, when his knee comes in contact to the edge, you maneuver your body in his direction, sit up on your knees to meet him halfway and welcome him in a hug.

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he says when you pull apart. The both of you don’t break away completely. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck, his hands placed just above your waist, you can feel his fingers that slipped under the fabric rub your skin.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you respond, giving him a genuine smile and can’t help but stare at his pretty face. You had to remind yourself he’s just another guy, except he wasn’t. You didn’t know how he felt, but you wanted this, wanted him. You also don’t know if you’ll ever work him again after today, so he was going to get the real you.

A small, subtle clearing of someone’s throat shatters the staring contest between you and Bucky causing you both to sheepishly break away from the other, not realizing you’d both allowed dreaded dead airtime to pass by. You scoot over to make room for him next to you on the bed. After he pulls his footwear off, he sits cross legged in front of you, you have one leg tucked in and the other extended in front.

Bucky’s not entirely oblivious. He not only witnessed you backstage reveal you were actually nervous to work with him, he could feel it, so at an attempt to help ease both your nerves, he places a hand on your shin and absentmindedly run his hand up and down the fabric, fingers sometimes stopping to mess with the cuff of your leggings and at the skin of your ankle, while he listened to you speak.

He congratulated you on your achievement as you did with him, both a blushing mess before diving into different topics like traveling and other interests.

Wanda stood proudly behind the camera watching the scene unfold. Everything was so candid and real between you and Bucky, the chemistry was clearly evident, she didn’t foresee there would be much directing on her part today, which was going to make her job easy.

“Wanda said you were excited to work with me,” Bucky teases, wanting to see if what you said was just for the cameras or if it was really true, but also, he found out he liked to see you get all hot and bothered in more than one way.

Your jaw drops and you look directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall, calling out to Wanda. You playfully chastise and curse at her for revealing your secret. She tells you it was going to come out anyways, and while that was true, you’d hoped it was later and much after you’ve slept with him, hoping it doesn’t ruin the shoot, but Bucky assures you that it’s actually a flattering to hear or in his words, “assuring” for someone like him.

“Are you kidding?” You say, lightly shoving him back, “you’re like a legend! Of course, I was excited! I’m surprised you agreed to work with a rookie like me!” Now that the cat was out of the bag, you might as well own up to your secret.

“Everyone wants to work with you,” he makes clear, leaning in closer. Fuck, he didn’t even need to initiate foreplay because with the way he was looking at you right now, you could come swear you��d come undone for him in an instant.

“Oh really?” You challenge, your body gravitating like a magnet towards his.

“Yup, Steve wouldn’t shut up about you and even Sam said he can’t wait to someday work with you,” he said, voice slowly dropping in decibels and his hands sliding up your thighs.

“Did he?” You ask, but you don’t really care about Sam as your eyes look dead into Bucky’s blue ones, swirling into a darker shade full of deep want and desire.

“Yeah, but let’s see if he still wants to try to outdo me after I’m done with you,” he whispers, finally closing the gap between your lips in a sweet kiss. It was about as sweet as it could last because after just one taste of your lips, he was a starved man, hungry for more. You tried your best to match his pace and the kiss turned sloppy very quick.

You moaned at the pressure of his lips pressed roughly against yours, and you do your best to keep up, but you’re already finding yourself short of breath. However, the more you try to pull back to regain some oxygen, the more he’s unwilling to part as he grasps your face in both hands to keep you still, so you lightly squeeze at his biceps as a warning in hope he gets the message.

Lucky for you, he does and lets up. He’s also noticeably breathless, his warm breath fanning against your kiss-swollen lips, his forehead resting against yours. Bucky’s hands are still on your face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and you let out a small chuckle at the sincerity. He was cute.

You take his hands in yours and bring them back down to begin undressing him starting by helping him slip his shirt over his head, the fashionable dog tags around his neck clank as it slaps against his toned chest, you let him keep them on though.

Bucky sits up on his knees as he watches you settle on your stomach, propped up by your elbows, hands getting ready to work on his lower half. He patiently watches as you unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans off, and drag the zipper down.

With his pants hanging loose off his hips, you begin to plant soft kisses along his navel down the defined lines that lead to his cock. Each contact of your lips sends a ghostly tingle and the blood to rush even quicker down his lower region. The imprint of his endowed member doesn’t leave much to your imagination, you can already see the stain where the tip is through his tight boxer briefs. It gives you a little boost of confidence knowing you’d caused this and would get to take care of it.

You hook your fingers into the undergarment and tug them down his muscular thighs. His cock springs out, almost hitting you in the face causing you to jolt back a little and a smile to spread across Bucky’s.

Your clumsiness was also a part of your charm. It wasn’t on purpose, you were still learning after all, and that’s what made it so unique and fun to work with you. Your partners just felt a real, genuine connection, citing it felt less choreographed and of a porno with you.

A little embarrassed about that move, you’d watched what he can do with that cock, but nothing could’ve prepared you for it face-to-face. You don’t waste any time on getting your hands on him and wrap your fingers around his half-hard cock and start pumping him sensually.

He’s hot and soft in your hands before getting gradually heavy. The look in your eyes grows more predatory as you watch him grow and feel him getting harder with each pump causing more and more pre-cum to ooze out. You spread it all over the head of his cock with your thumb then daring to look up at him, hoping he was indeed enjoying your work, before you pucker your lips and kiss at the crown. Bucky curses when he sees your lips shining, coated in his pre-cum, with a string connecting you to his cock.

You gather the fluid up in your hand before spreading it all over his length, when it’s not enough you start not only pumping him faster, but also licking up and down, from the base to the tip, hoping to effectively slick him up. The way your tongue scrapes along over Bucky’s sensitive flesh stirs him up. Your other hand joins in to fondle with his neglected balls, massaging and pulling at them in the right moments, sometimes you travel a little south and take them in your mouth. It all but drives Bucky wild and it’s confirmed with each swear that leaves his mouth.

Bucky wants nothing more than to lodge himself deep in your throat, but he remembers he needs to go at your pace, and once you’re broken in a little more, you could follow his, so he’ll bide his time for now and watch you work.

When you’re ready to take him in, you regain his attention and he watches you slowly take in his inches down your mouth, stopping halfway before your wide-open mouth hollows out. Your full mouth immediately waters around him and it doesn’t take long before you’re a drooling mess all over his cock. You pull back torturously slow, looking back down watching his cock reappear and loving the way it disappears back in, and especially how it feels when it drags through your mouth, taking note of the veins and unique ridges.

“Don’t be like that, doll,” he says, wiping some of the hair away from your face, “come on and show me why they don’t stop talking about you,” he coaxes, now gathering some of your locks in his hand to completely give you both a clear view. He tries his best to not take the lead, but you don’t disappoint as your mouth works faster on him. The gagging and sucking, mixed with Bucky’s moans of pleasure soon become the soundtrack.

You’d gradually take him more and more in, close to deep throating him, and you’re just ready to let up, but he can’t help it and before your last round, he holds your head in place.

“Don’t quit now, baby,” he encourages you, placing his other hand on the back of your head, keeping you still and carefully starts to thrust his hips, urging you to take him all the way, “...that’s it, you can do it, you can take it,” he releases a big sigh feeling the tip of your nose bump his lower abdomen. The moisture builds up in the inner corner of your eyes and you do your best to mind your breathing and not choke.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but shout when he feels your throat contract around him. You just looked so divine, mouth full of his cock. He keeps you there for a few seconds, before releasing his hold, and you immediately pull back, drool dribbles down your chin, and you’re desperate for oxygen to return back into your system. He grabs your face by your chin forcing you to look up at him.

He uses his fingers to scoop up some of the mixed fluids of his arousal and your saliva at your chin before presenting it in front of you. You easily read his mind, look up at him with big, watery eyes, and take his coated digits in your abused mouth sucking the juices clean off him.

He growls and commends you, “...such a good girl.” When he slips his fingers out of your mouth, a small pop could faintly be heard, he gently yanks at your hair, craning your head back further, it’s almost painful but you don’t care, “do it again,” he demands.

You bite your lip and reposition yourself. Bucky settles in a more comfortable position on his back, completely rid of his pants and underwear, his legs spread open for you to lie between them. Before you get back to the job, you slip your tight top off, all-natural breasts spilling out and on display for him. His cock twitches at the sight and he lets his head fall back when he’s once more fully encased in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

When he finally starts begging you to let up, you pull back slowly pumping him and watch his every move, the rise of his chest as it heaves from the activity, the way he runs his hands over his face. He’s absolutely stunned by your performance so far.

“On your back,” he says, and you do as he commands, and forget who is supposed to really be in charge. He yanks your leggings and panties all the way down, chucking them behind him somewhere in the corner of the room.

“You’re so sexy,” he compliments, eyes taking in every inch of your naked body, hands getting their fill. His body dips, lips latching onto your breasts, kissing at the skin and sucking on each nipple before they make their way up the juncture of your neck and claim your lips again.

You feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, and they part to grant him full access. You barely notice how he takes a hold of one of your hands, he pulls his face away to bring the hand in his grasp up to your face, using your fingers to trace the outline of your lips. You see him inaudibly instruct you to open your mouth, you do as you’re told.

“That’s right get those fingers nice and wet,” he coaxes you to suck on your own digits until he deems you ready for the next move. When he finally does pull your fingers out from your mouth, he extends your arm, ghosting them just over your pussy.

“Play with that clit,” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice. Your pussy was begging for any kind of attention. You let your wet fingers roll over the bundle of nerves, puffs of breath escape your body as you’re finally attending to your own needs.

Bucky sits back and watches you intently, fascinated by your every move. He instructs you to close your eyes and listen to his voice, instructing you to go slow at first, “does that feel good?” the only reply he gets is a fast nod, “yeah? Make yourself feel good...that’s it,” his words only encourage your fingers to soon work faster, “let me hear how good it feels,” he demands, and you moan and whine like the true pornstar you are, your circular motions speed up, the lewd noises egg him on and soon enough he wants a taste.

“Let me help you out,” and you feel the bed shift a bit, “spread those wet lips for me,” he requests. You use both hands to invite him into your wet, glistening hole. You pick your head up to see his face buried between your thighs, you watch just long enough until each broad lick up and down your pussy sends you close to the edge.

He no longer needs the support of your hands, and they find purchase in his dark, fluffy hair as he starts sucking on your clit and tonguing your folds. At first, you’re doing a good job keeping your legs apart to accommodate him, but it gets harder and harder for them to not clamp around his head, with every nudge the tip of his nose makes at your clit and it doesn’t help your case when he inserts a finger inside you. With a good curl, his finger scratches dangerously close to your sweet spot, causing your legs to start quivering.

The sudden hitch in your breathing catches his attention, and Bucky tests the waters more by digging in deeper and curling in further. He notices the increasing agitation and knows he’s found the trigger.

“Bucky,” you whine, hoping he doesn’t push you over just yet. You want to last longer, and so you reluctantly attempt to scoot back further away, but the sudden strong grip he has around your leg locks you in place. You pick your head back up and find Bucky’s eyes trained on you. You see the stoic look in his eyes laced with determination. Oh no, he wanted you to come now. You feel a hum from his full mouth, only pushing you further.

“Don’t hold back,” he says against your pussy, “let go,” and the gruff in his voice, vibrating against you, his thick digits still curled deep inside you, you can’t hold back the floodgates from bursting any longer.

He laps up your arousal as you desperately try to regain composure. He really pulled one out of you, proving he was as every bit good as he put out and you’re not even close to the end of this scene.

“Come here,” he says, getting back on his knees and pulling you up by your arms so you’re in an up-right sitting position once again, but with Bucky still towering over you, “open up.”

You comply and open your mouth wide, tongue out, not understanding his motive, and you’re met with full surprise when he spits in your mouth, a firm grip on your face, he holds you still.

“Don’t swallow,” he gravely warns. You feel and probably look stupid not knowing what he wants you to do with your mouth open wide and full of his spit mingling with your arousal, just trying to keep it all contained. Bucky was testing your patience and obedience and you passed every test so far. You were just the right amount of submissive, absolutely perfect.

You can feel his hard cock pressing up against your sensitive pussy, it slides up between your folds and the base rests on top of your mound. “Drool it out...on my cock,” he instructs. Oh. He guides your gaze down between your bodies, you purse your lips, and both watch as the liquid cascades down onto his erect member. He uses it to lube himself up before he pushes you down to lie flat on your back.

Bucky slowly but easily slips inside your wet channel but notices your slight struggle. He was big, and he gets it. The way your eyes are tightly shut, hands pulling at the sheets, you struggle to breath and your walls cruelly grip him tight. Normally, he’d just pound away until his partner got used to him, but he didn’t want to do that with you. He wanted you to enjoy feeling him.

He tries to help you relax by rubbing your thighs a little with soothing motions, when they fall limp on either side, he leans down, you feel the cool metal of his dog tags against your heated skin, his weight sort of comforting on yours, and arms entrapping your head. He lovingly calls out your name, and your eyes flutter open, your attention refocusing on him.

“We’ll go at your pace, alright?” he assures you. You curse yourself for allowing your heart to swell at his concern, but you nod giving him permission to move slowly. Your whimpers soon transition into pleasurable moans, the more your body begins to adjust to his.

“Damn, you’re so tight. You’ve never been stretched out like this by anyone before have you?” he dares ask, once he sees it’s a safe playing field once more, his hips moving slow, his cock sliding in and out of you. You attempt at a laugh between your ragged breathing and the intense sensation coursing through you.

“No,” you respond and kiss at his chin, the light stubble pricking your soft lips, “you’re so big.” You feel his cock twitch inside and you want to curse yourself again at the comment that unintentionally riles him up because he was nestled close to your spot again. Fuck, he could reach just the right depth in you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you don’t want to go slow anymore. Fuck Wanda and this movie, you wanted all of Bucky now, “please fuck me,” you resort to begging. He inwardly growls and his hips start snapping forward, thrusts growing hard and uncalculated. You just lie there and allow him to use your pussy for his pleasure.

Bucky’s movements falter a bit in this position, so he steers both your bodies on their sides, still facing each other, he slings your leg high up over his hips, and resumes his task. His cock glides right back in your pussy and the new angle causes you to yelp and walls to clench around him.

“You feel so good,” his voice riddled with so much lust as he brings your body closer to his with a hand behind, full of your plushest asset. Your head rests on the bicep of his other arm that was underneath it.

Bucky’s expressive eyes ask you if you're close, and the more your walls continue to grip him, he starts begging for you to come with him. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, giving up and letting you take the rest of the lead.

“Yeah?” you huff out, your fingers digging into the side of his hips, “you want to cum inside me?” You know he does; you can feel and see it written all over him, but you want to just poke at him like he had with you, “I want you to...I want all your cum inside me, Bucky,” and you wanted him to cum hard, deep inside, “fill my tight pussy up, please,” you plead.

With one more jab of his hips, your back arches and head is thrown back, you can’t help but let out a scream as your orgasm rips right through you like it’s never before. Bucky’s body on the other hand caves into yours, feeling almost paralyzed as your tight walls hold him in place and all he can do is bury his face into the sweaty skin of your neck.

His mouth hangs open, a plethora of profanities coming out of him, and he waits for his cock to finish spewing ropes of his hot, thick cum into you. Your walls can’t help but to involuntarily contract in small aftershocks, especially when he’s still coming.

Bucky continues to moan as he does as you hoped, he came hard and deep inside you. When you’ve both finally come down from the high, it’s silent, and even though you’d both long forgotten you were on a set with multiple people watching you two, they were also quiet, completely taken back by the performance.

Incoherent cries come out of each of you, when Bucky agonizingly pulls his cock out. For the most part you’re able to keep him inside, but he’d proven to come so much some of it seeps out and runs down in streak fashion along your thigh, staining the bed sheets.

In your last act, as your gazes meet each other again, your fingers dip inside your soaked cunt and coat them. Hypnotized by you, Bucky watches as you greedily suck off his essence from your digits, and you evoke a small hum in his favor at the taste bursting in your mouth.

Bucky bites at his bottom lip, trying to not lose it again. When your hand disappears, he tenderly wipes the matted hair away from your face, smoothing your hair back before pulling your body close again, swooping your lips for a deep kiss.

“Shit, you’re good,” he admits, when he pulls away, effectively breaking the blissful silence. You bust out in a fit of giggles beside him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it’s not something you’re supposed to feel towards your co-star, especially in the porn industry.

He smiles at you, basking in your afterglow and all he knows is that he wants to feel this high with you over and over, so he decides to risk it all, “I hope this doesn’t ruin the moment, but can I take you out some time?”

You try your best to read him, wondering if he was just still in the heat of the moment. Either he’s really good or he’s being sincere, you can’t tell and you’re hoping you’re not overthinking it, but his eyes, this whole time, were what gave him away. He performed with them and he definitely spoke through them.

Before you could accept and give him a definite answer, you’re both brought back to reality, “we’re still rolling here!” Wanda reminds.

A/N: Thank the pain meds for this. I think I effectively used up my vacation days the right way, won’t you agree? Likes, reblogs and comments/emojis are appreciated!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #pornstar!bucky barnes #pornstar!bucky #pornstar!bucky au

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whoreiaki-kakyoin · 3 years

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Hi! From the kissing prompts, may I humbly request "being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward" with bruabba? Specifically, Bruno being the one unable to open his eyes? Thanks in advance!!!

I love kiss/romance scenes in general so I love these prompts, but I seriously love this one for Bruabba! My heart fluttered a lil when I got this ask :) This is uhhh clearly from a "nobody dies" au because Araki can't tell me what to do xoxo

Edit: mention of blood/serious injury but everyone lives 💕

Abbacchio would say it took a while for things to return to normal, except there really hadn't been a normal to return to in the first place. Maybe it was a word that should have been thrown out entirely, stricken from his personal lexicon when he got mixed up with stands and Passione and... and Bruno. Of course, the last item on that list had turned his life upside-down in a completely different way than the others. But, all that aside, the dust settled, and things shifted into place anew. Not normal. Not even Passione's old "normal." But it was a welcome reprieve from the constant danger the past couple months had thrown at them.

They had all healed physically, more or less, with Giorno's help. Abbacchio had bitched and complained, insisting that if the boy was going to heal Bucciarati's wounds, then he was going to stay and watch to ensure that Bruno was fine. He turned it over in his mind most nights before he fell asleep, almost as if he was trying to un-see the image of their trusted capo on death's doorstep, his body laying eerily still. Abbacchio's fingers gripped the cup of tea in front of him, wrapping around the warm porcelain as he attempted to anchor himself. They were all home. He was fine. Bruno was fine. He knew, but still—

"Abbacchio!" The young capo approaches the table with a broad, easy grin, and Leone's heart stutters. "I'm not late, am I?" "No, I just got here early."

"Ah." Bruno sits, blue eyes twinkling, and smiles at a passing waitress as he asks her for a cappuccino. The café is small, the outdoor patio pleasant as weather turned to the warm, gentle breezes of late spring, right on the cusp of summer. "What had you wanted to talk about? You sounded like it was important." Fuck. For as many times as he's rehearsed the conversation in his head, you would think Abbacchio would have a handle on this. Finally, he takes a breath before forcing out, "I almost fucking lost you, you know. When we went after Diavolo." Maybe it's the last thing Bruno had expected, his mouth parting and his eyebrows arching in surprise.

"I... Well, I'm all right, now. It does touch me that you worried that much..."

"Bucciarati, I don't think you understand." His own words sound strained to his own ears, pinched out as his throat tightens with frustration. "I don't say it as your subordinate. You know that, so don't give me that shit."

"Abbacchio..."

"Every time I close my eyes, I see you laying there.... fucking... fucking drenched in blood. You have to promise you'll be careful." The other man sighs, slender fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I don't think I can make that promise, Abbacchio. You knew as well as I did what we were signing up for, joining Passione." Abbacchio stares for a moment, genuinely dumbfounded. Bruno was one of the smartest people he knew. And yet, how could he be this goddamn stupid?

"Don't you understand?" he repeated. His voice was a hoarse, urgent whisper, like he could impress to Bucciarati the terror he had felt. "Capo.... Bruno."

"L...Leone?" The other man falters at the shift, the drop in formailties, and there's such vulnerability, something so open and endearing in the questioning look on his face, his blue eyes searching Abbacchio's. With a sigh, Leone reaches a hand out to tangle in Bruno's hair, cradling the back of his head as he pulls him in suddenly to crush his lips to the other man's. It's desperate, but it's soft. More honest, more raw, perhaps, than anything either of them have done or said in quite some time. Abbacchio can feel this in the way that Bruno tenses in surprise and then melts, can hear it in the soft sigh the capo gives against his lips.

For the first time in... he's not even sure when, Leone allows himself to want, and to want openly, messily... completely unguarded. The pads of his fingers tease the baby hairs on the nape of Bruno's neck, circling gently. Leone Abbacchio isn't the best with words— usually doesn't see the need for many— but he hopes that this will suffice to tell Bruno everything he doesn't know how to say.

When he allows himself to pull away from the young capo, his breath catches in his chest. Bruno sighs softly, not opening his eyes just yet, allowing Abbacchio to hold his face gently as he leans forward, touching their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and Leone feels something in his chest leap and ache at the same time. "I'm so sorry, Leone..." He squeezes his eyes closed even tighter for a moment, bringing his hand up to grasp the one that cups his face so tenderly. "I almost let you lose me. I didn't... I didn't realize that you might feel the same way I did. I will be careful, okay? You have my word." He exhales softly, and Abbacchio smiles in spite of himself as he rubs his thumb over Bucciarati's cheek.

"Bruno. Look at me. Open your eyes."

"One more second?" Abbacchio laughs softly at the request.

"Oh? Why's that?" The capo blinks open deep blue eyes, fixing them on his partner with a brilliant smile.

"It seemed like a moment worth remembering. I wanted to savor it. Now... Kiss me again?" Abbacchio grins.

"Of course."

#requested writing #the mushroom queen writes #got mail 💌#bruabba #jjba fluff #there’s some angst in here sorry for that but I’m dramatic lmao #laur’s writing #bruno x abbacchio #bruabba 🖋✨

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Our Song

At the last show of his tour, Kells invites you on stage for a duet, but it turns into a bit more than that.

Request: “Can you do one where the reader and Colson both are music artist. I know you're doing this with "The Thing We Can't Tell Pete about. But with this one they have been dating for a while and while they are in the middle of the song Colson decides to announce they're dating and gives her a kiss in front of the crowd, and the reader is just in shock. However it ends it up to you. Love ya!!!!!!!!”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: implied smut/ mentions of sex, cursing

A/N: So, I used my own lyrics in here because why not (sue me I guess)

Word Count: 2326

The last two months had been absolute hell on Earth. Yes, you loved your job. Recording your third studio album was exciting but being busy all the time was exhausting. On top of that, your boyfriend being off on tour meant you hadn’t seen him in person in two months, which was driving you even more insane.

It also meant you hadn’t had sex in almost two months.

You’d called each other every night, even if you were both drunk off your asses or faded beyond belief. It had become your routine; get home from the studio, grab something to eat, then hop into the bath and facetime your blond boyfriend.

Tonight, was no exception, but the energy on the call was different. Colson was coming home tomorrow. Granted, he would be going straight to the venue for his concert, but he’d be here.

“You’re still coming tomorrow, right princess?” He asked, a joint hanging from his lips.

You smiled, nodding, “I haven’t seen you in two months. If I’m not there, you should assume I’m dead.”

He chuckled, “good.” He hesitated before continuing, “I was thinking you could perform with me. We haven’t performed White Sea in like a year.”

You bit your lip at the thought of performing with him again. He was right, after you’d finished live performance promo for the song, neither of you had performed it together. “Yeah, I’m down.”

The song was the first one you’d written together; it was actually the whole reason you’d met. “You don’t think people will get suspicious though? I mean, people are already catching on. I feel like performing it out of the blue would add fire to the flames.”

He thought about it, the wheels turning in his head. “I think it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret.”

You nodded, “I know, we’ve just never really talked about telling people.” The last two words came out softer than you had intended.

Colson and you had been together for a year and still hadn’t officially told anyone outside of your closest circles. You liked the privacy, and getting the media involved always caused problems. So, you kept it to yourself. People saw you out together, but nothing had been confirmed.

Colson left the conversation there, not having a good answer. You had both agreed a long time ago that if people figured it out or someone slipped up and told you would be okay with it, and you would. You just didn’t think it was a big deal if people knew or not.

He started talking about his day on tour, the crowd he’d played to tonight. You told him about the song you were working on. Eventually he got called away by the boys.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” He smiled at you through your phone.

You smiled, “You better. I-“ You almost slipped up. Almost said those three words so casually. But you’d caught yourself. “I can’t wait.” You covered.

He gave you a small wave before your screen went back, the sound of the line disconnecting ringing through your bathroom. You put your phone on the floor next to the tub, leaning your head back and sighing.

You don’t know why it worried you so much. You knew you loved him, and you were pretty sure he loved you too. There was just something about saying out loud that scared the hell out of you.

The next day was amazing. As soon as he texted you that he’d gotten to the venue, you were rushing to meet him there. When you stepped into the green room where he was, he ran up to you and grabbed you by your waist. Your arms went around his neck, legs around his as he lifted you up, burying his face into your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” He mumbled into your skin. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, holding him closely.

“I missed you too.” You whispered. He lifted his head up and pressed a deep kiss to your lips as your feet came down to touch the floor again. His lips were so familiar, it felt like the world had shifted back into place when you felt them on yours.

He pulled away, forehead and nose still pressed against yours. Your hands travelled from his neck to his shoulders, rubbing the fabric of his t-shirt. “I didn’t think I was gonna survive another night without you.” You said with a slight giggle, making him laugh.

“Well now you don’t have to worry about that.” He said, pressing a peck to your lips.

Before you could pull him back to your lips, your moment was interrupted. “We get it, you guys are cute. Whatever. Can we get hugs from our favorite girl?” Irv joked, pulling your attention to the group of guys near the couches in the room.

One of the things you loved most about being with Colson was how accepting his friends were of you. Slim and you had bonded over your love of music production and mixing, Baze had taught you some more complicated bass riffs, and Rook was your designated adventure buddy (after Colson, of course). You felt lucky that your boyfriend’s family had taken you in as one of their own.

You ran over to them, giving each of the guys a hug. When you hugged Ashleigh, she whispered in your ear, “don’t ever leave me alone with these lunatics again.” You both giggled at that, leaving the boys confused.

After messing around backstage for a while and catching up with your friends (mostly from the comfort of Colson’s lap), it was time for the guys to perform. You set up your spot side-stage with Ash, Irv, and Andre, excited to see the set.

Before he went on, Colson came over to you and pulled you in for a very giddy kiss. Pre-show Colson was your favorite Colson, except for maybe post-show Colson, only because he was so excitable. Every time you sat show side, he demanded you give him a good luck kiss. No matter who was watching.

Watching him was magical, in fact watching all the boys was magical. The way their passion showed through the music and the performance was something that not many other artists could perfect. You felt like you’d never match their level of performing.

When Colson brought out his acoustic guitar and two bar stools, you were a bit taken aback. Normally his shows were so high energy that he never wanted to sit down, even during the slower songs. It wasn’t really his style.

“I wanted to bring out a very special guest today to help slow this down a bit.” He said to the crowd as they screamed. “I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, but I figured today would be the perfect time to do it.”

He looked over at you, a smile on his face. It finally registered in his mind that he was talking about your song. Luckily, you’d had ears put in at the beginning of the show, so that wasn’t an issue. One of the venue’s techs handed you a microphone and signaled you to go on stage.

Once you came in view of the audience they erupted into another round of cheers, making you smile. Colson met you halfway and pulled you in for a sweaty hug. He led you over to the chairs, letting you sit down while he adjusted his mic stand. “For those of you who don’t know, not that there should be anyone who doesn’t know who this is, but just in case, this is Y/S/N. We wrote this song a little over a year ago today.”

You smiled as he started to strum the familiar intro, the lights dimming just a little bit.

Drownin’ in empty space.

You started singing.

Don’t even know my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

It’s okay

Rook brought the drum beat in as Colson smiled at you, his verse starting

Yeah

I was drownin’ in this darkness

Feeling like I was so heartless

All these drugs makin things harder

They tried to turn me to a martyr

You loved watching him party on stage, but you loved watching this side of him, too. Completely stripped down and raw. Hearing him rap the words you wrote together made your heart flutter, even if you’d written them so long ago.

I can’t handle shit I’m just a man

I tried to tell ‘em, they don’t understand

Riptide’s pulling me away from land

I couldn’t stand till you reached out your hand

And now I can.

The rest of the music came in, the sounds mixing as you began the chorus.

Drownin’ in empty space

Don’t even my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

The key raised.

Out on the open sea

Feel your eyes watching me

Wanted to fall asleep

Now I believe.

The music kept playing, but Colson’s rap didn’t enter like it was supposed to. Instead, he just looked at you, a fond smile on his face. You tilted your head, questioning him, but he just placed his guitar on the ground and kept looking at you.

“I just want to let everyone here know, that today is my one-year anniversary with this amazing woman right here.” He said into the mic, causing the audience to burst into screams. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening.

He caught your expression and laughed but kept going. “It wasn’t a secret that we’ve been together, but we’ve been quiet about it. But I mean, like, fuck that shit. When you’re in love you should tell everyone, right?”

You smiled at him, your heart picking up speed. “And Y/N I am so fucking in love with you.”

You looked down, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks and the idiotic grin you were sporting. You had never expected this from him. “Like, seriously, this past year has been the best year of my life. Even when we aren’t together you are the one thing that I look forward to the most, every day. You are one of the best things in my life, and I want everyone to know that.”

During his little monologue he had walked over to your chair and pulled you up into his arms. You nuzzled your face into his bare chest, making him laugh. He pulled the microphone away from you both so it wouldn’t pick up your conversation.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you complied. “I love you.”

You had tears in your eyes as you studied his perfect features, “I love you, too.” You whispered. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while I just…”

“I know, princess.” He smiled, leaning down and pressing your lips together in a sweet, passionate kiss. The audience erupted in applause, cheers, and awes. “Are you gonna say anything?” He asked once you’d pulled away, motioning to the audience with a smile on his face. You shook your head, burying it back in his chest and laughing. He spoke into the microphone, “she got all shy now.”

The crowd laughed with him, shouting supportive comments at you both. “But she said she loves me too so that’s all that matters.” He continued, earning even more cheers.

After the show, Colson came backstage and immediately attached his lips to yours, hands holding you close. You pulled him into one of the unused dressing rooms, mouths never leaving each other. He hoisted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs, and leaned your back against the mirror.

Finally, he released your lips from his, making you whine. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about all this, but after last night I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. And you just looked so pretty out there that I-“ You cut him off with a kiss, lips moving together slowly.

He chuckled as you pulled away. “Colson, I loved it. I was hella embarrassed because the first time you told me you loved me was in front of thousands of people, but I loved it. And I love you.”

He smiled, pressing a peck to your lips. “How much do you love me?” He asked, slyly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing something was up. “Depends on your next statement.”

A laugh fell from his mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rectangular box. “Because I really hope it’s a lot.”

“What are you doing?” You asked him, giggling.

He lifted the lid off of the box to reveal a key with your first initial painted on one side and a C on the other. “You don’t have to, but if you wanted to maybe think about moving in with me, now you have a key.” He smiled as you took the metal in your hands.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, lips open in shock. “So, you’re asking me to move in with you?” You confirmed.

“Only if you want to. But yes.”

You smiled, looking back down to the key and then up to his face before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your waist. “Of course, I want to, dummy.” You giggled and reconnected your lips.

“We’re supposed to go out and celebrate the last night of tour tonight, you’re gonna come, right?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“You act like I don’t wanna be around you.” You pushed his chest playfully. “But we might be a couple minutes late.” You smirk.

Colson raised an eyebrow, “oh yeah? And why is that?”

Instead of responding you just giggled and pulled him back into a kiss.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson imagine

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maatryoshkaa · 4 years

Text

young god | epilogue

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue

word count: 4.4k

description: it’s been five years since the Miroh Heights murder cases came to a close — and five long, bittersweet years since you’d caught a glimpse of Han Jisung. Things in Miroh Heights have changed drastically since then — but when Felix sets you up on another blind date in an attempt to help you move on from the past, you realise that, once again, you’ve signed up for much more than you bargained for.

masterlist

recommended listening: stray kids - “sunshine”

epilogue.

“See ya, Miss l/n!”

You turned to wave back at the little girl who had called your name, her round eyes visibly bright from the waiting room of your clinic. Seven years old, front teeth just beginning to come in. One of her hands clutched a half-unwrapped lollipop as her mother held onto the other.

The first time you had seen them, the child had been unwilling to speak — bullied relentlessly at school, her mother had informed you through a veil of desperate tears — but now, her laughter filled the warm air, traumas that had once been etched into a too-young face already beginning to heal and fade.

Evening sunshine warmed your cheeks the moment you stepped out of the building’s doors, a light breeze rustling the papers in your hand as you quickly tucked them into your bag. “Five years of graduate school hasn’t made you more organised,” Felix often teased you, and you would smack his shoulder in retaliation.

Five years hadn’t changed your friendship in the slightest, either—and you had to admit you were beyond grateful for that.

As always, the city around you was humming with life: evening rush hour, with people darting here and there, frantically flagging down taxis and catching their buses. Usually, on days like these, you should have been hopping into the first cab home and collapsing like a corpse as soon as you reached your apartment. But today, you remembered with a sigh, was not going to be one of those days.

“Hey, Doctor l/n!”

You whipped your head towards the voice, a smile spreading across your tired features as you saw who it belonged to. In a slightly jaded Mini Cooper—second hand, of course, but worked just like new — Yang Jeongin waved at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m not a doctor, ‘innie,” you reminded him playfully as he unlocked the passenger door and let you climb in.

“Not a doctor yet,” he corrected you, grinning. “Besides, ‘child therapist’ doesn’t have as much of a ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and waved at another one of your patients as Jeongin started the engine. “You really didn’t have to offer to drive me, you know — the streets are a nightmare during this hour.”

“It’s not that far,” Jeongin protested, “Plus, I barely get to see you now, you’re so busy.” You didn’t have the heart to argue. The kid loved being behind the wheel so much, he made it seem like you were doing him a favour.

You watched Jeongin turn onto the main road, squeezing the car in between a van and a motorcyclist. He really had grown up over the last few years — his hair was darker now, remarkably sharp cheekbones overtaking his once-rounded cherub cheeks — but in some ways, nothing had changed at all. He still had that natural knack of brightening whatever room he stepped in — the Yang Jeongin effect, Hyunjin called it. And his heart was still too big for his own good: you remembered how he had adamantly refused to take the money Jisung kept offering him after the case had finally closed, and when Hyunjin had asked him why, Jeongin had simply replied, “After everything that’s happened, it doesn’t feel like he’s the one who owes me.”

On the other hand, Jeongin had been more than happy to take Prosecutor Kang’s compensation money instead, and had finally visited a car dealership with you and Hyunjin.

The moment he had seen the Mini-Cooper — a beat-up thing from the 90s that you were amazed was still running — the younger boy’s eyes had lit up. “It’s just...it looks like the one our family used to have, before...the incident,” he had explained sheepishly, making you and Hyunjin exchange a look. And so, after a fiery back-and-forth between you and the salesman—not to mention a few sleepless nights at the mechanic’s — the rest was history.

The light turned green, and you spotted a photograph wobbling on the dashboard — a laughing child you recognised immediately as Jeongin. Behind him, a woman with a familiar wide smile had her arms around a man with eyes resembling a fox’s, with none of the slyness. “How’s your dad these days?”

“Mostly stays at home taking care of my mum, but he swears he wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jeongin turned his head to you excitedly, as if a thought just hit him. “She got out of bed a couple days ago, you know? The first time ever since my dad left.”

Your mouth fell open in a surprised smile, and Jeongin continued, “He’s real excited he got to teach me how to drive, too. I think he feels like he missed out on a lot of things, like...walking me home from school. Teaching me how to ride a bike. Graduation.” He shrugged. His words might have sounded sad at first, but you could see the way the lines of Jeongin’s face were more relaxed now, at peace.

“Mind if I make a quick stop?” Jeongin asked abruptly, and you checked your watch before shaking your head lightly.

“I’m still about twenty minutes early. We’ve got plenty of time.”

He turned onto a familiar street, and you rolled down the window as Glow Cafe slowly came into view. It was just as busy as it had ever been — even the cars were stalling by the curb — but Hwang Hyunjin spotted you almost immediately, waving through the glass window. Quickly hopping out, Jeongin popped the trunk open, and you watched him haul two crates of coffee beans into the bustling cafe. The once-famed “delivery boy” of Miroh Heights only really did deliveries for Glow Cafe now, after Hyunjin had offered Jeongin a position as a barista until he graduated—and although he wasn’t the best with his hands (or his memory, for that matter), Hyunjin didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Him being here is more than enough for business. You should see the students flock in here every morning just to catch a glimpse of him.” The former barista snorted. “What’d I tell you? They’re eating him right up.”

They waved at Jeongin now as he jogged obliviously out of the cafe, Hyunjin’s laughs muted by the glass as he threw you a knowing wink. He had graduated himself, two years ago, officially inheriting the business after his grandmother had passed away. Glow Cafe had since come a long way, with Hyunjin always at the forefront of new design ideas and enthusiastically telling you about his plans to expand even more in the future.

“Get this: ‘CEO Hwang, the most eligible bachelor of Miroh Heights,’” Felix held up his hands as if picturing a giant headline, giving his signature wolf whistle as you burst into laughter and Hyunjin kicked the blond man in the shin. “Ow!”

“How did you even get into the press with those cheesy titles?” Hyunjin groaned.

“Not just ‘get into the press’, ‘jinnie,” you reminded him, giggling, “he’s the head journalist now!”

It was true—with his impeccable wit and seamless way with words, it came to nobody’s surprise when Felix maneuvered his way to the top of the local press in a matter of years. The head of the press still loathed him with a biting passion— “I can feel her glares all the way from her office,” Felix retorted — and rumour had it that the two seemed to fire shots at each other all day long. The image of a powder-faced, middle-aged woman bickering with your notoriously insufferable best friend made you laugh, but you also knew deep down that Felix always took his job more seriously than he let on. His eloquent articles had gotten his name out across the city in no time, and so you took comfort in knowing that — no matter how hard the head of the press bared her teeth—nobody could touch Lee Felix now.

Five years, you thought to yourself wistfully, eyes catching a familiar detective’s office as Jeongin drove past. What a trip down memory lane. You’d seldom come by this part of town since then, and seeing the familiar buildings sent a flood of memories and mixed feelings stirring in your chest.

The well-loved Detective Bang, much to the disappointment of adoring students and professors alike, had moved abroad to a bigger city—whether he had been taken by a new precinct, or a new big case, you couldn’t be sure. “Rumour has it he’s doing undercover work now,” Seungmin had mentioned to you once in passing, “We haven’t heard from him in a while, but he’s making a big name for himself out there, that’s for sure.”

The District Nine police station whizzed by you in a blur, and more of the prosecutor’s words rang through your head.

“Meanwhile, the chief of police keeps insisting he’s glad to be rid of him, but we all know he secretly misses Chan.” Seungmin had shaken his head, and you had smiled at the image of the stoic police captain—chief, now—grudgingly sulking over the loss of his best friend.

Jeongin made one last turn, and the narrow buildings opened up into the heart of Miroh Heights—the oldest part of town, where the roller rink, record shop, and the diner were. The sight of Mia’s Diner made you sink down instinctively in the passenger seat, and you couldn’t keep the raw dread out of your voice as you let out a long sigh.

Jeongin gave you sympathetic look. “For someone who’s going on a blind date, you don’t sound too happy.”

“That’s because I’m not, Jeongin. I don’t even know why Felix keeps insisting on these. The last time I agreed to one was—” you broke off before you could finish what you were saying, the unspoken words echoing in your mind. The last time I agreed to one was when I met Jisung.

That’s right—the last official blind date you had been on, you had met Han Jisung — and he had turned your entire world upside down. For years afterwards, you had told yourself that you wouldn’t take that day back for the entire world, but now...now, you weren’t so sure.

After all, how could you be sure of someone you hadn’t heard from in over five years?

The rehabilitation centre didn’t allow letters in or out— you had learned that the hard way after your first letters had been sent directly back to your doorstep. Usually, they had told you, if things went well, patients could start correspondence again after a year or so—but you had gotten absolutely nothing. Not a single word.

Five years—he should have been out by now. He could have been anywhere, doing anything—but he certainly hadn’t remembered to write or even call you.

Had he really forgotten about you?

“Five years is a long time, y/n,” Felix told you gently, after you had adamantly refused the blind date he kept insisting on. “People...change, and maybe he’s—moved on.”

Moved on.

You didn’t know how to tell Felix how much the thought of that hurt more than you were willing to admit, how this was the sole reason why you hadn’t been able to go on a single date for the past five years. You didn’t know how to tell him that Jisung hadn’t left your mind since the moment he had disappeared from your sight, five years ago, in the corridor of that courthouse.

“I’ll be waiting,” Jisung had said. And yet he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Felix wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re in your mid-twenties now, y/n. Loosen up a little, yeah? You’re allowed to go on dates, for goodness’ sake.”

“I’m hopeless, ‘lix. I’m pretty sure the stray dog on the street has a more interesting love life than me.”

“Maybe,” Felix mused, “I think I saw it running around with a litter of puppies the other da—ow!”

“You okay? You look kind of sick,” Jeongin remarked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Got everything you need?”

You resisted the urge to laugh. If only Jeongin knew how you had prepared for this date—by mapping out all the ways you were going to end it as quickly as possible. Faking food poisoning? Check. Arrange a time for a friend to call you and pretend an emergency came up? Check— although Hyunjin had had a strange glint in his eyes when he had agreed to it. Worst comes to worst? Pepper spray, check. You let out a slow exhale. “Sure. All set.”

You thanked Jeongin with a hug and hopped out of the car. Just as you began walking towards the diner, you heard him call out behind you.

“Oh, yeah, Felix told me pass on a message — from him to you.” You turned back, and Jeongin gave a boyish grin that was half apologetic, half laughing. “‘Go get ‘em, tiger!’”

You gave an exasperated cry and yanked open the diner door.

━━━━━━━━

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, and tonight it truly was: booths packed with couples both old and new, laughter and the smell of food wafting through the warm air as friends and families celebrated the start of summer. The jukebox was on and playing an old disco song you liked but didn’t know the name of, the checkered floor tiles clicking with the sounds of brisk waitresses’ heels and dancing feet.

You didn’t know why Felix had insisted on coming here, of all places, what with the mixed emotions and memories you had tied to it, but you had to admit that the jovial atmosphere of Mia’s Diner on a Friday night never really disappointed. You found yourself relaxing slightly—just slightly, bobbing your head lightly to the music.

“Mia’s Diner?” You repeated incredulously. “Seriously, Felix, do you only know one date location? For the so-called ‘Matchmaker of Miroh Heights’, you’re sure lacking in the variety department.”

“Easy, tiger. Just trust me on this one, okay? You’re gonna owe me one.”

“I’m not—” you began indignantly, but Felix continued.

“Plus, the poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either. You both need this.”

“Years? Are you setting me up with a hermit?”

“Oh, yeah. A big-time loser, seriously— but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

And so, for the second time, Felix’s schemes and pleading puppy eyes had gotten you here—sitting at an empty booth, waiting for a blind date. He hadn’t even bothered to show you a picture of the man in question. You couldn’t help the smile from slowly slipping from your face as each minute passed, and you nibbled your lip anxiously.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

You peered out the window, at the lights of the town glowing a faint neon against the clear evening skies. Each time a car filled in a parking space, you sat up, craning your neck to see if it was him—before slumping back down in disappointment. Five years, you thought to yourself glumly. Five years, and you still had no luck with dates. Maybe you just had no luck with love, you thought dryly. You imagined Felix laughing later when you told him about it and sighed, a twinge of worry replacing the dread in your gut.

Had something gone wrong?

After turning the waitress away for the eighth time, you fished out your phone from your pocket, tapping on the foreign number Felix had given you. Zero new messages, zero missed calls. At least I can tell Felix I tried, you thought glumly. Maybe I should just call Jeongin again, and ask him to pick me up. And then you could drop by Glow Cafe for a bit, before trudging back to your apartment like a fallen soldier.

Just as you were punching in Jeongin’s name, feeling a sense of guilty relief wash over you, you vaguely registered the diner door swinging open beneath the lively music, and a pair of footsteps trying to shuffle past the dancing couples.

For a split second, you thought you saw a pair of tattered black Converse—laces untied, soles worn—but the mirage disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of dress shoes that eventually came to a stop at your booth. You sighed, fighting back the tears that had suddenly threatened to well in your eyes. Shit. This is not the time to be thinking about him. Why were you still thinking about him? And why on earth had you agreed to this?

You lifted your gaze, trying to muster up a smile, hoping your disappointment didn’t show on your face—

And immediately froze.

“Hello.”

Standing before you, looking almost like an apparition — a golden silhouette against the backdrop of the dim diner — was Han Jisung.

You had to blink several times to realise you weren’t hallucinating again. He looked...different, and yet in some ways, he looked entirely the same: his hair was shorter, but tousled as it had always been, cheeks flushed and breathless as if—as if he’d been running through a storm.

You felt your body moving before any intelligible thoughts could form in your head, pulling you forwards like a magnet until you were standing face-to-face, your shaky eyes darting across his features, not daring to believe what you were seeing.

All of a sudden, the glint in Hyunjin and Jeongin’s eyes made sense, Felix’s words replaying in your head as overwhelmed tears began welling in your eyes without warning.

“The poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either.”

“A big-time loser, seriously — but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Y-you—are such a dork,” you stammered out, one hand weakly hitting Jisung’s chest as you felt the tears finally spill down your face. “Han Jisung, you are such a d—”

Your words were cut off when Jisung pulled you into his arms, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. Your shoulders shook with muffled sobs as you buried your face in his chest, memorising everything about this feeling, not wanting to take a single second for granted, memorising everything about him. Jisung no longer carried with him that scent of gasoline and fire — instead, he smelled faintly of lemongrass, and a hint of warm, fresh laundry.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered hoarsely, “I just—missed you, so much.”

He chuckled in your ear, the low, familiar hum stirring faint, faraway memories in your head, and you gripped onto his shirt harder, as if he would disappear completely if you didn’t hold on tight enough.

Jisung had found you in the crowded diner before you had seen him — just like the first time he had met you. And just like the first time, he had felt his breath hitch in his throat, hands hesitating on the door, wondering if he should turn back instead. He had watched you bob your head gently to the music, a small, tentative smile on your face.

You looked good — no, amazing. Different, and yet entirely the same. Kind, worried eyes catching him completely off guard, like the flash of a camera.

Just as bright.

Just as brilliant.

The truth was, there hadn’t been a single day where he hadn’t thought of you — of your voice, your touch, your laugh. Jisung had asked Felix for help the moment he had gotten released, but what he hadn’t forseen was your reaction.

“She won’t go on a blind date, mate,” Felix had informed him exasperatedly, “Took weeks of convincing. Good news, though — she finally caved. You sneaky, hopeless romantic bastard.”

She might have forgotten me, Jisung had thought. And even if you hadn’t, you might not even welcome the sight of him—after all, he hadn’t been in touch since he had left, all those years ago. But in the end, the inexplicable pull in his chest had grown unbearable, and he found himself walking towards you, wading through the crowd, feeling the ache in his heart softening with each step he took. All the way back to you.

You pulled away slowly, vision blurry as Jisung lifted a hand to cup your face, never taking eyes off yours. He had grown in the time you had been apart—he was taller, his once-lean frame stronger—and, most of all, there was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, and you laughed in disbelief, “I think you’re my blind date.”

“How—w-why—”

“I told you I wanted to do this all over again, didn’t I? And I promised that I would try to do it right this time.” Jisung smiled apologetically, wiping your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

You shook your head, eyes widening when you saw what he had been carefully clutching in his other hand: a small bouquet of sunflowers, their golden yellow petals as tousled as Jisung’s own blond locks.

“Apparently they symbolise new beginnings,” Jisung said, pulling a stray petal from your hair and chuckling, “Keeping promises. Eternal happiness. That kind of thing.”

“Why didn’t you write?” You whispered, as Jisung tucked the bouquet into your hands.

“I wanted to...to heal. In every sense of the word. I didn’t want to show you, until I...knew I was really better. Believe me, I wanted to.” Jisung’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were fighting back tears. “I wanted to, so, so badly.”

You shook your head, mumbling something about how much of a stubborn idiot he was, and Jisung’s laugh made a hesitant smile tug at your lips. As if sensing the lightening atmosphere, the waitress had promptly appeared behind Jisung and meekly cleared her throat, setting down the menu. Jisung turned back to look at you, his grin growing playful.

“I hope you’re hungry?”

The diner seemed to come back to you all at once in a flood of senses, the music and murmur of restaurant goers sending a pleasant hum through your veins as you and Jisung sat down. The night went by in a warm blur, Jisung telling you about his life at the institute, the unlikely friends he had made, the dreams he hadn’t realised he had.

“I’m going to go back to school,” he admitted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I’ll be a bit behind, but...I want to study something I actually like this time.”

You had told him about how you had been working in a child therapy ward ever since you had graduated, about all the children you had met and loved and cared for. As you talked about them, you saw a wistful look in Jisung’s eyes, and a thought crossed your mind. “Have you heard anything from—from Minho?”

He gave a small smile, but shook his head. “Rarely. It hasn’t been long since he was released, but he said he was planning on going abroad. Doing some travelling. I think...he’ll reach out when he’s ready.” He then added, as an afterthought, “And if he doesn’t, I wouldn’t blame him.”

The sad simplicity of Jisung’s words stirred a strange feeling you couldn’t quite place in your chest, and your mind flashed back to the cold-eyed coroner and his stiff smiles; then, to the raw pain that had cracked through his strained features the last time you had caught a glimpse of him. Maybe you would meet again one day, or maybe that truly would be the last you ever heard of him.

Healing of the mind, you knew, was a strange process—one that always took much longer than you would expect. There were always scars that reopened along the way, old hidden wounds that surfaced right when you least expected them. There would always be answers you might never find, you mused sadly, closure you might never get.

But sometimes, you thought as you listened to Jisung talk, memorizing the feeling of his fingers interlaced with yours, sometimes we can only hope to hold onto what we already have.

The end of the night drew closer, and when Jisung and you had stepped outside the diner, the city was swimming in the dark ochre of the setting sun. Eventually, the two of you ended up back in the wide garden behind the hospital, your laughs and giddy conversation slowly hushing into softer murmurs. In the distance, the rush of cars on the main road grew sparser, the windows of the buildings around you flickering to life one by one like young stars. Here, though, as you rested your head on Jisung’s shoulder beneath a willow tree, the world seemed to stand still, and all was quiet.

You heard Jisung yelp suddenly and looked down to see a familiar dog pattering around your feet—a stray, with scraggly fur like an overgrown teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. It immediately pounced onto Jisung, beginning to lick your boyfriend’s face like no tomorrow.

“Oof! Hey there, old buddy.”

You laughed, scooping the dog off—only after it had gotten a few slobbery licks in—and shivered slightly as a cool night wind swept past you. Noticing, Jisung shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders as you raised a teasing eyebrow at the cliche move.

“It looks good on you,” Jisung insisted, and you laughed incredulously.

“Your jacket?” You asked, ruffling the dog’s ears as it curled up at your feet.

At that, Jisung looked back up at you—seeing the faint outline of your smile in the dark, your eyes sparkling as you looked back at him expectantly, obliviously—and in that moment, Jisung wondered what he had ever done to deserve someone as perfect as you.

After a beat, he replied, “Happiness. Happy looks good on you, love.”

Your mouth parted in surprise—both at his words, and at the unexpected name—and Jisung took the chance to lean in and kiss you, pressing his soft lips to yours. Gently, at first — carefully, but as you began to kiss him back, you felt Jisung slowly relax. You kissed him the way you had wanted to for so long, feeling the years of distance, of heartache, of endless waiting finally unravel beneath your lips. His hands reached up to gingerly cup your face, pulling you closer into him as if he never intended to let go.

Happy looks good on you, too, Han Jisung, you wanted to say once you pulled away, forehead still lightly pressed to his. And you deserve it, more than anything. You watched Jisung’s features come back into focus beneath the dim moonlight. His gaze was fixed on yours, filled with nothing but pure adoration, and you felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through your chest.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, more than you could ever know — but something in the warm yet playful look in Jisung’s eyes told you that he was already thinking the exact same thing.

So you just smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again.

YOUNG GOD | END

ryu says: to you — yes, you, who has reached the end of this series! this epilogue is my way of saying a big thank you to those who stayed along for the entire wild ride that was young god. thank you for loving the characters, the world of miroh heights, and of course, the story! there are easter eggs and full-circle moments all throughout this epilogue, so i hope you enjoy and have fun finding them all ^^

disclaimer: in my opinion, all epilogues are open to interpretation: i’ve left some characters’ stories untold, some loose ends untied for this exact reason. miroh heights’ story has finally come to a close here, but what happens to the characters from this moment on continues in the reader’s mind now.

all that cheesy, pretentious stuff aside, i hope to see you in the next story!

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txemrn · 3 years

Text

What About Us?

I am participating in this week's @wackydrabbles prompt number 99: "How about once more--for good luck!" (Prompt will be in bold)

Warning: fairly fluffy with a smidge of angst

Word count: 1575 (+/-)

Song Inspiration: "What About Us?" by P!nk

A/N: It's another Royal Roulette! What is RR? It's simple! Set your music to mix, and be inspired by the first song that pops up! I'm super excited about this one because it worked out perfectly with my desire to write something in honor of 🏳‍🌈PRIDE🏳‍🌈 month! I hope y'all enjoy! Big ol' hugs and special thanks to @burnsoslow and @chemist-ana for pre-reading this! The characters, some of the plot and dialogue belong to our friends at Pixelberry

🌈

A pair of deep ocean eyes anxiously shift around the New York hotel suite. He chews mindlessly on his pink, raw cuticles while his crossed-legs bounce with nervous fury. His other hand casually back-combs his playfully-styled locks, raking them upward into melted spikes. But, luckily for Maxwell, his close friends are preoccupied with excitement; they don’t notice that he is adrift with his raging, thunderous thoughts. Although their pressing questions have been answered, Maxwell wanders aimlessly with a broken heart.

Thanks to their clever sleuth work and strong desire for justice, Tariq was found; and better than anticipated, after careful discussion, he was willing to come forward about the false accusations of his relations with Lady Riley. But, time was of the essence if they were going to stop the Cordonian royal wedding. Riley along with her press secretary Justin, Drake, Hana, the Beaumont brothers work quickly to decipher the next course of action: a public statement to be broadcasted during Liam and Madeleine’s wedding shower.

Hana gently places her petite, manicured hand on Maxwell’s shoulder. Her warm smile and endearing touch calm his outward erratic nerves. Peering into her bright chocolate eyes, a roaring sense of courage overwhelms his internal timidity; he now has his own plan.

“You’re with me, Tariq,” Justin delegates, clapping Tariq’s back. The sound of his name breaks Maxwell from his fog. “We’ve got an appointment.” Maxwell’s eyes track the men as they exit the room, his opportunity for his own justice walking away in a tailored Brioni suit. He thinks quickly; this can’t be it. He needs answers.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Drake stifles a yawn, turning towards the open door. “But I need some sleep before we go to this shower.”

Perfect. Now is Maxwell’s chance. “Yeah,” his voice cracks before clearing his throat. “My eyelids feel like they weigh a hundred pounds.” Hopping from the tufted leather chair, Maxwell smooths out his slacks. He finger-guns the ladies, hoping his humor covers up his awkward eagerness to leave. And to get to Tariq.

“Justin!” Maxwell calls out from down the hallway, jogging to catch up to the two men. Leaning into Justin’s ear, he begins to whisper an inaudible request. Though he keeps his head bowed, fixated on his notecards, Tariq casually sneaks a glance at Maxwell.

“Right now?” Justin scoffs, “we don’t have time--”

“Please. Just for a minute.” Maxwell pleads, a wave of seriousness washing over his body.

Justin sighs, placing a hand on his hip, looking at his watch. “Alright,” he motions with his head, “my room. Five minutes. But, then we have to leave if we’re going to get this statement out on time.” Justin ushers an unsuspecting Tariq into his hotel quarters before leaving him alone.

Maxwell takes a deep breath, willing the waves of his churning stomach to cease. He grits his teeth into a smile as his racing heart returns from the clouds. He pops his knuckles one last time before heading into the room to face him.

Maxwell slowly makes his entrance, easing the door closed behind him. With his arms crossed, he leans against the entryway to a small, breakfast nook. Ensuring that his presence is known, he softly coughs as he watches Tariq’s reaction.

Tariq quietly looks out over the busy Manhattan traffic, not acknowledging Maxwell’s presence. He wrings his hands as his thoughts appear to wander.

“Well?” Maxwell starts, chewing on his bottom lip. Tariq rolls his eyes to Maxwell before returning to the view. Maxwell scoffs. “So, that’s it then, huh? That’s what this has come to?” He puts his hands on his hips as he begins to pace. "After everything we've been through--"

“Maxwell--” Tariq meekly whispers.

“And then," Maxwell interrupts, "to hurt my best friend, trying to take away her happy ending, too--?”

“Stop it, Max--” Tariq gruffly mutters.

“I mean, God, Riq!" Maxwell stops pacing, searching for the right words. "What did you think--no, what did you feel when you looked through that peep hole and saw me on the other side, knocking on your door?”

His question hangs in the air as Tariq turns towards an angry Maxwell. Relaxing his shoulders, he slowly steps closer. “Relief?” Maxwell shakes his head in disbelief at the answer. Tariq comes closer, cupping his hand on Maxwell’s face, gently stroking his thumb. “I had always hoped you would find me.”

Maxwell grabs his wrist to stop his tender touch. “Why, Riq? Just, why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't you call me--?”

Tariq sighs, walking back to the window. “Constantine.”

“What does he have to do with anything--?”

Tariq let's out a long sigh. “He saw us, Max--” he looks to Maxwell, widening his eyes. “He--saw--us. You know? That morning?” He clears his throat. “At Applewood--?”

Max gasps, his cheeks flushing like a wildfire. “He saw us?” He tries to hide his grin, covering his mouth with his fingers. “But--”

“I know,” Tariq runs his hands nervously through his hair. “Later that morning, he requested my presence, only to threaten to reveal our relationship to the entire court--” he swallows thickly, “--not to mention our families-- and to the world.” Tariq’s eyebrows knit with worry as he continues. “My only deliverance was if I followed through with his plan to eliminate the American competition--” he defeatedly sighs, “--what I did to Lady Brooks, ‘for the sake of Cordonia and the Crown’.”

“Riq, I--I had no idea--”

“He told me I could return after Liam was married, but why would I want to?” The storm clouds gather in his eyes. “He would always have the truth about me--about us--hanging over our heads, not to mention how everyone must feel about me, how everyone must be disgusted with me--” he catches his head in his hands as his sobs. “How you must feel about me…” he whispers.

Max kneels in front of Tariq, taking his smooth, broad hands into his own. His eyes sparkle with adoration as Tariq stares at the floor. “Look at me.” Maxwell presses his lips to Tariq’s knuckles. “It’s okay--”

“I’m sorry,” Tariq stumbles over his tears. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve done against Ramsford, against you--God!” He grips tightly to Maxwell’s hands. “I’m so sorry what I’ve done against us--if there’s even still an us--”

“Shhh,” Maxwell hushes his cries. “Riq, do you remember the last time we were here?”

The corners of Tariq’s mouth curl, his swollen eyes meeting Maxwell’s gaze. “How could I forget?”

Both of the men chuckle as Maxwell touches his hand to Tariq’s cheek, his thumb wiping away his tears. “We talked about finally going public--”

“I know, I know. And Max,” he sighs, “I’m still scared. Of what people will--”

“No, no,” he interrupts, smiling kindly at Tariq. “Do you remember what I told you?”

“Before or after the third bottle of that cheap Merlot?” Tariq raises a mischievous eyebrow, squeezing Maxwell’s hand. Maxwell’s eyes grow dark with desire, giving Tariq a knowing look.

“This was definitely before,” Maxwell titters; but his tone quickly grows serious. “But, seriously? Do you remember Riq?” Tariq softly nods, lacing his fingers with Maxwell’s. “I mean what I said--and I still do.”

Tariq leans forward, resting his head against Maxwell’s forehead at the sound of his words. Closing their eyes, they cherish the moment, savoring each other in the stillness of being together. They’re hearts intertwine, beating as one, keeping perfect time and rhythm.

“I still love you, too, Max.” Lifting Maxwell’s chin up with the soft touch of his hand, their lips meet passionately. Maxwell slips his arms around Tariq’s neck, deepening the kiss. Tariq quietly moans into Maxwell’s lips, teasing them with his tongue as he pulls him into an embrace.

“Gentlemen?” A sudden knock at the door makes them jump apart. Justin appears, tapping on his watch. “We gotta go! If we leave now, we will make it--”

“Just-in time,” both Maxwell and Tariq groan. “We know. We know.”

Filing out of the room, Tariq takes Maxwell’s hand in his hand. Maxwell pauses, giving Tariq an inquisitive look, looking at their laced fingers before continuing comfortably down the hallway.

“I’m ready, Max--”

“I know you are.” Maxwell squeezes his hand as they stop to wait for the elevator. “You’re going to do great--”

“No, no--” Tariq raises their hands, kissing the back of Maxwell’s hand. “This. I’m tired of hiding. From court, from Constantine, from everyone. I’m ready for this. For you.”

“Riq,” letting go of his hand, Maxwell’s eyes flutter, blinking away a tear. “Maybe we need to talk more about this whenever we get home--because, oh boy, I don’t want you to feel any pressure, and you know, I’m willing to wait forever for you, you know that, right? I just want to make sure--”

Tariq steps up, pressing his hands against Maxwell’s chest. He leans in to place a gentle kiss to his supple lips to quiet his rambling. “I’m sure.” He smiles, mirroring Maxwell’s toothy grin. “Now,” Tariq continues, tapping on his lips with his finger, “how about once more--for good luck!”

Maxwell grazes his lips tenderly against his lover’s mouth before embracing him tightly. Leaning into Tariq’s ear, Maxwell lowers his voice: “we don’t need luck. babe.”

As the doors slide open with the chime of the elevator, Maxwell takes Tariq’s hand. Smiling at each other, the men step onto the lift and into their future together.

🌈

TRR Tags (please let me know if you need a status change in your tag! If you were forgotten, please forgive me! A clean-up is coming!): @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @neotericthemis @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @yourmajesty09

#the royal romance #maxwell beaumont #maxwell x tariq #fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices trr #lgbtq #wacky drabbles

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sincerelynamkook · 4 years

Text

Studio M

Yoongi x Reader POV

Genre: Smut 🔥

Word Count: 1.4k

Playlist: “People” by Agust D. Honestly the whole D-2 mixtape

He sits in his chair, eyes intently focused on whatever is on his computer screen. Every now and then he’ll close his eyes and listen to the beat, mouthing a few words here and there softly before nodding his head and writing words down on his beat up journal, the one I gifted him on his birthday. I asked him once why he didn’t just type things on his phone or in his computer, he told me there was something cathartic about writing lyrics in his notebook. Now I make sure to pick up unique journals whenever I’m at the store, because it’s a special feeling knowing he writes his lyrics on something I gave him before sharing it with the rest of the world.

I’m laying on his couch in his studio, waiting for him to finish up to go out to dinner, but the way he cracks his knuckles tells me he’s struggling with something. I get up from the couch and walk behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and drop a kiss on his temple.

“Babe what’s wrong?” I ask him softly. He grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss on my palm.

“I’m just missing something for this song, but I don’t know what it is.” He clicks on a few icons on his screen, it all looks like gibberish to me.

“Anything I can do to help? You feel tense.” I say as I start to massage his shoulders and neck, feeling how knotted his muscles are.

Instead of replying he swirls around in his chair to face me, bringing his hands up to my waist, he begins to softly caress my body under my shirt. With one hand on my back he pushes me forward until I’m sitting on top of him. He wraps his other hand around my neck and pushes his lips on mine. His tongue makes its way into my mouth, dominating my movements. I bite his tongue gently, smirking when he hisses. He sucks on my bottom lip, biting down hard on it before licking his way down my neck, sucking gently on the nape, most likely giving me a hickey.

I start to roll my hips against his, looking for some type of relief. He reads my body like if he were the one that wrote me. Grabbing my thighs, he pushes himself off the chair and brings me with him. I take the moment to wrap my legs around his hips, not once stopping my movements. He sweeps everything off his desk before placing my now naked ass on it. He lets go off my mouth for a few seconds, I hear some clicks from his computer mouse but I don’t pay any mind to it because I’m so focused on the salty taste from the sweat on his neck. I start to remove his shirt off of his body and he does the same to my dress. I unbutton his jeans and bring them down his hips so I can free his dick from its constraints.

My mouth waters when I feel his veins and heat against my hands but I know I have no time to taste his sweet cum when I hear his moans against my ear. I pump his dicks a few times, making sure to spread the precum around himself. He pushes my hips against him, entering me in one swift move. I moan, hard. Throwing my head back, he takes advantage of my exposed neck and begins to lick, suck, and bite on my neck and chest. I hold on to him, to the desk, anywhere that’ll give me a strong enough grip to withstand the strength of his fucking.

Our moans are loud and deep, fueled by the hunger we have towards one another. We fuck raw, with unfiltered passion. I whine when I feel his dick leave my warmth, but I smile when he brings me off the desk to stand, flipping me over to face the computer screen. He pushes my torso down to the desk, I stick out my ass towards him, inviting him to enter me from behind. I yell “fuck” when he accepts my invitation and hits just the right spot. My moans become even more guttural, deep, passionate. He resumes his whispered adoration of me, whispering things like “damn baby you’re pussy was made for me” or “you’re the only that can make me feel this way.” My walls clench harder when he tells me he loves me. You don’t know the power of those words until you hear it from someone that barely says them.

He starts rolling his hips slower, more gently, taking his time so that he can fill me deeply. I start to match his movements, moaning at the feel of every inch leaving and entering my pussy. He picks up the speed, my heart racing even faster telling me I’m about to cum. “Yoongs, babe slow down, I’m gona cum” I moan. Instead, he speeds up even more, my moans spreading throughout the room. I cum, hard, but he doesn’t stop his movements. He switches up his speed, slow, fast, my body not being able to take it so I cum again. A loud “fuck” makes it’s way out my mouth when he cums with me. He holds my hip tight, riding out his orgasm. I wipe my tears from the intensity of his lovemaking. He leans his torso against my back, kissing his way up my spine until his mouth is at my ear. He whispers a gentle “I love you” before dropping one last kiss against my neck. He brings me up to face him, kissing me softly on the lips. I wrap my arms around his shoulder, kissing him back and tell him I love him. With one last kiss on my forehead, he sits on his desk chair and places me on his lap.

We sit in silence for a few beats, catching our breath, gathering our thoughts. I slowly start to doze off, feeling so sedated from multiple orgasms and his gentle caressing. I hear him get back to work, shown by the sounds of his mouse clicks here and there.

“So I have a confession.” He softly says, waking me from my almost slumber. I lean my head back to look up at him and hum a “hmm”.

He smiles his innocent smile, telling me he’s up to something. My curiosity is piqued so I sit up. “What’d you do?” I ask him with a raised eyebrow. His innocent smile turns into a smirk.

Without answering, he turns to his computer and starts to click on a few things. The room is then filled with a song, the one I’m assuming he was struggling on. It’s a sensual beat, his deep lustful voice spitting out a few verses. I close my eyes smiling at the sound of his sexy voice, but they spring open when I hear moans in the background. Not just any moans. But MY moans. I freeze in place, mouth open. These were the moans I let out not even 20 minutes ago. I freeze even more when I hear his moans mixed in with mine.

“What. The. Fuck.” I whisper yell. His body shakes in laughter.

“I found what the song was missing, and that was a piece of you.” All my anger disappears at those words.

“Babe…” I whisper.

“I won’t apologize for recording us, not when it made this song perfect.” He replies seriously.

“I can’t believe you recorded us. What will people think?!”

“It’s not like they’re gona know.” He smirks.

“Maybe, but your friends, my friends, our FAMILIES PROBABLY WILL KNOW OMG YOONGI WTF?!!!” I yell my anxiety increasing.

He has the audacity to laugh again. I smack his chest in anger and his response is to kiss my forehead.

“Babe, admit it, it’s a good song.” He rubs my back while clicking some more on his computer.

I sigh in defeat. It IS a good song. A GREAT song actually. A song I know will kill Army everywhere. I have no doubt I’ll be reading tweets and watching tik toks about them imagining what Yoongi is like in bed. Let’s just say I’m glad I’m the only one that really knows what he’s like in bed.

“It is. It is. But you should know all your music is great babe.” I sigh again. “I’m not looking forward to getting shit from Jin, Jimin or Jungkook though. Those fucking bastards LOVE to make me blush.” He laughs before dropping a soft kiss on my lips.

He stares at me for a few seconds before saying, “I love you babe. You’re my muse.”

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failedintsave · 3 years

Note

38 skwistok or 19 Abigaar!

[50 types of kisses prompts]

Just for you, my first Abigaar.

19. One person stopping a kiss to ask "Do you want to do this?" Only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

Abigail had been through grueling, mind-numbing studio sessions plenty of times in her career. That was her specialty, it was how she'd earned the moniker of 'The Cleaner.' Many an obstinate musical act had been bent to her will, noses forced to the grindstone until tracks were turned from raw creative ore into polished gold records.

But working with Dethklok was unlike any project she'd taken on before. It was like pulling teeth and herding cats at the same time. If the cats were drunk. And in heat.

Weeks of constant difficulties had finally borne fruit, though. With the last bass track finally secured, the album could move onto the next stage and Crystal Mountain could get off her dick about deadlines and profit margins and global rioting. Abigail was mining platinum from these chucklefucks, and ahead of schedule. She should ask for a raise, honestly.

Reaching beneath the mixing desk, she slipped the hip flask out of the inside pocket of her attache and dumped a healthy splash into the styrofoam cup of soda in front of her. The band had finished their part, practically fleeing when she cut them loose, but she still had hours of editing to go until she called it a night. Twisting her neck at an angle her chiropractor had advised against, Abigail sighed at the satisfying crack and set to work, only to be immediately interrupted by the door swinging open.

"Hey, um, so now dat dem udder guys am gone," Skwisgaar sauntered in, guitar perpetually in hand. "Dere was dis weird tones I heard earlier on de playbacks? Not sure which tracks it ams on but I was thinking maybe we just fix dat before Nat'an picks up on it and delete de album."

"He wouldn't dare." Abigail swiveled in her seat to face him, swirling her cup to mix the liquor with the ice melt and soda.

Gray denim landed against the console as Skwisgaar leaned casually into the panel, fingers flying over muted frets. "Oh he woulds. And has."

He leveled her with the knowing, sage-like expression of someone who'd survived such a hardship. After a moment, the corners of his lips twitched upward into a crooked grin and Abigail was reminded of another obstacle she'd been contending with. She took a long sip through her straw and told herself that the alcohol was the only thing flushing her veins with heat.

"I'm not sure what sound you're talking about." Maintaining her air of professionalism—spiked drink not withstanding—she turned her chair again, clicking on their last recording and playing it over the speakers mounted in either corner of the room. Abigail flipped between the drums, vocals, guitars, and shook her head at the switchboard. "It all sounds clean to me."

"No, dere's like a tiiiiiiii," Skwisgaar's vocal chords wouldn't quite cooperate with the pitch he was attempting, and something about that was almost more endearing than Abigail could handle.

"Maybe it's the speakers? I seriously hear nothing. Here, try this."

Plugging her headset into the auxiliary output, Abigail held up the heavy padded earphones. Skwisgaar continued plucking away at his guitar, ducking his head and waiting for her to oblige him and place the headphones over his ears. She reached up and fitted them in place, the song thankfully already looping so that Skwisgaar couldn't hear the frantic pounding of her heart as a wavy lock of blonde hair brushed the inside of her arm. He listened, eyes boring into hers, and Abigail felt herself being drawn forward by their gravity. She let go of the headset but his pull was irresistible, her hands trailing only as far as his cheeks before the space between them closed. The quiet scales ceased, fingers abandoning guitar strings to tangle in the hair at the base of her neck, the press of his kiss turning her to putty.

Skwisgaar jerked back almost immediately; Abigail could hear the click track over the headphones, barely a measure passing between first contact and breaking apart. He searched her face, pupils dilating but the question was evident. She answered in the strongest affirmative that came to mind, looping her arms behind his neck and pulling him down against her lips once more.

#eeeee first shot i hope you like it!#skwisgaar skwigelf #abigail remeltindtdrinc #abigaar #asks #thank you! 💜

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oraclekleo · 2 years

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Won Hyuk (E'LAST) Kinky Reading*

Hello and welcome!

I’m Kleo and I’m here to present some k-pop related tarot readings to you.

Disclaimer:

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Deck: E. A. Poe + Tarot of Sexual Magic*

Spread: Kinky

Questions:

Position

Libido

Turn On

Kink

Dirtiest Secret*

Full Name: Won Hyuk

Stage Name: Won Hyuk

Group: E'LAST

Won Hyuk

(Won Hyuk - E’LAST)

Deck: E. A. Poe + Tarot of Sexual Magic

Spread: Kinky

Position - Page of Cups

Won Hyuk is likely to be the playful and restless kind of a lover. He’s gonna struggle to stay faithful and devoted to his partner as he sees amazing and exciting opportunities everywhere and he falls in love way too easily.

Libido - 9 of Swords

Won Hyuk might be actually slightly afraid of his own sexuality as in his mind it seems way too raw and wild to be accepted by the society. It’s likely for him to develop a steel hard self-control and never give his whole self to his lover and keep himself under constant check. Won Hyuk is likely to hide most of his desires because he’s scared he would repel others if he showed his true colours.

Turn On - VII The Chariot

Won Hyuk is likely to feel attracted to someone fearless, courageous and open minded. As mentioned before, Won Hyuk himself has some bottled up tension and puts many restraints on himself. He’s likely to seek someone non-judgemental and fearless in order to feel safe to open up to them.

Kink - Page of Pentacles

Won Hyuk is a very sensual and passionate man but he’s used to controlling himself and his surroundings to the point of obsession. He’s likely to truly thrive from slow and steady build up tension and heat. Long, passionate, heated and arousing fore-plays are likely his thing. He might like to be teased by his lover to the breaking point. He likes his self-control to be tested and he derives pleasure from prolonging the anticipation.

Dirtiest Secret (Tarot of Sexual Magic)* - 8 of Swords

As said before, Won Hyuk has many control issues and his darkest secret is to find a person who will be strong and open minded enough for him to lose it with them. He wants to shake the shackles off and lose his head for once. He wants to go wild and feral and carnal with his partner who will enjoy the heat of liberating flames of desire with him.

Thank you for reading!

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Comment! 💬

Reblog! 🔁

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

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Howl

I said I'd make this a fic because people got the okie-doke with the fic within a fic. Still funny idc 😂😂 Oh, and this is horror.

T'challa's chest heaved in the dim light of the basement. His mind swirled with fearful thoughts. He was afraid of himself and what he knew he might do. He pleaded with his heart to stop pounding and the ache hammering in his temples to cease. He'd sweated through his clothing. It clung to his salty, dark and smooth skin. Sweat dripped from his forehead, from his brow, down his neck.

"Baba," he pleaded to the lonely light source above, dizziness setting in, cementing his high fever. He was seeing doubles. It felt like he was dying but he knew better than that. "Help me stop it, baba," he cried. His arms were cuffed and tied behind him. On top of that he was chained and tethered inside of an engineered metal cage. "Ancestors.. please," he sighed fatigued, "I beg of thee. Purge me of this curse. Guide me! If not, then reinforce these bars so that I must stay here.."

Even as he was speaking his request, he felt his mind slipping. There were moments when he could not remember what he'd last thought of or said. Small details were escaping his memory at a quick rate. His sanity was beginning to flee him. "Nalani," he whispered in deep mourning, "I am truly sorry."

The moon, fully round and white rose high in the jet black sky and Nalani drove on the highway getting as far as she could away from her beloved fiance with much regret and pain in her gut. She wanted nothing more than to hold T'Challa through his ordeal and soothe him, letting him know that she still loved him no matter what happened. She knew his heart well and he was a gentle man, one of the sweetest she'd ever known. She'd move mountains for him if only she could. However, the plan they'd come up with together was for her to tie him up, lock him up, then get as far away from him as she possibly could without him knowing where she was going. She had to follow the plan if she wanted to survive. This was a matter of life or death.

"Nalani.. Come, I must tell you something.. very important," he'd said soberly when they'd gotten serious as a couple. They were in his home and he didn't seem to know where to start, starting and stopping before looking her dead on. He exhaled. "I have.. a condition," he said carefully. Nalani waited before shaking her head impatiently. He exhaled again. "When I am in love, which is rare... a certain frenzy will come over me. It is an animalistic..," he searched for the right word, "obsession." Nalani crossed one thigh over the other, the high split of her dress revealing smooth deep brown skin. He looked away as she grabbed his hand to play with his long fingers. "I don't think you are grasping the seriousness of this matter," he muttered pulling his hand away when she attempted to kiss his pinky ring.

"T'Challa, I've been known to be passionate. You'll soon discover we have that in common," Nalani smiled moving to sit in his lap. He stood before she could.

"Nalani, on the full moon, I will transform into a creature of extreme animal lust. You will have to restrain me and get away, as far as you possibly can for I will hunt you and no one but you until the sun comes up."

"And if you catch me," Nalani teased. He was silent and his serious expression caused her smirk to falter.

"In the interest of full disclosure, those women are not on this earth today. Not in this plane. I understand if you wish to leave me. You would not be the first and you would be safe." The sad note of his voice touched Nalani's heart and she walked over to her man, hugging him near to her.

"I fear.. that my lust for you is too great," he sighed. "One of these full moons I will transform." He handed her a gun with silver bullets. "I trust you to do all you can to escape."

The gun laid in the console of the car. She prayed she wouldn't have to use it. A warm shining tear fell that she wiped away with the back of her hand.

The transformation was underway after many nights of false alarms. Tonight, it was actually happening and he could only think of one thing as the power of the curse flowed through his blood, charging him with dark purpose and rewiring his once sensible mind. Nalani. He wanted, no, needed Nalani.

No... Not just need.

T'Challa had been taken over. He yelled out in excruciating pain as his skull felt like it was being drilled into and stretched. Nalani, etched painfully through the bone. Where are you Nalani? He grunted yanking on the chain mixed with rope and cable that contained him.

Something broke. He went wild, thrashing and tensing. The strength that coursed through him was too great to be contained within his body and his desire, too strong. Like knives through his skin, it ripped through him until nothing remained of his psyche. Breaking the chains and ripping the ropes, he exploded free as if they were but plastic ties. Gripping the cage bars painfully, he strained against them, pulling them until they bent creating a path for him to step through, a new creature.

Nalani's scent was thick and fragrant in his nostrils. He could smell her hair, her skin, her soap. It was as good as a GPS.

The darkened heavens returned Nalani's shed tears, flooding her windshield as the ineffective wipers did their best to clear the glass. She'd escaped the state and driven further than she'd planned and she was tired, meanwhile, T'Challa's body resisted itself. His limbs cracked under the building weight of muscle and his joints twisted as he panted under the moonlight, a demon blitzing forward on bloodied feet to reap the soul of the damned. He dashed until his feet were raw yet continued through darkness that seemed eternal, the white moon a guiding light through time and the undeniable perfume of earthy blood, salty tears, hot rubber, moving metal, and skin driving his body. Through the sea of odors, the distinct scent of her bones sent his heart pounding with the thrill of the hunt.

Having felt she'd driven far enough, Nalani pulled off of the highway in favor of a brightly lit chain hotel beyond a sundown town. With gentle haste, she draped her charmeuse silk scarf over her spongy coils and around her neck dashing through the diagonal shower and black puddles into the warmth of the lobby to secure a room for the night with the silk pouch of emergency money she pulled from her pre-packed emergency bag. The thought of her kind-hearted, soft spoken love suffering on his own swept her up elevator's path into her room, and into bed to pray. "I entreat you to influence my fortune," she spoke. A message to her ancestors for divine guidance as she clutched her phone in small hands. T'Challa's pure and loving features were her fixation. He touched her with rare tenderness and patience. Love lived in the print of his hands and embraced her with a warmth second to none. Nalani battled the butterfly within her gut that willed her body to return. Only she had the key to that basement along with the key to that wretchedly cruel cage. On a small ring with those was the key to hand and ankle cuffs made to withstand incredible force and then there was the jungle of entertwined ropes rigging him into a strict position. He asked her to do all of this and she'd obliged. "Wait for my return, my king," she whispered to his likeness before closing her eyes, her damp lashes meeting to shadow over her tear-stained cheek. Resting proved almost impossible.

Her racing mind jolted her from slumber multiple times within the span of a few hours. "Grant me your safety," she whispered in the darkness. Locked in a fitful cycle of forgettable yet jarring dreams, she stirred between the sheets, her hands beneath the cool pillow.

Beginning with the point of his elbow, T'Challa's body crashed casually through two sets of glass doors as shards pierced the air with alarming noise, dropping with broken glass sheets and shattering. He appeared unaffected.

"Sir, are you.. okay," the nervous melanin deficient front desk agent inquired, shaky voice quickly fading from the lethal glare of the deep complexioned brawny tattered man soaked to the bone with eyes like wildfire. He retreated as the stranger's determined step never slowed. The tall aggresor was the personification of murder on the mind and the warmth that had been present in the air turned cold with a sharp chill no rainy night could conjure. Hiding away and with trembling fingers, the desk agent called the police and his manager. Then he called his mom.

"NALANI."

The menace possessing T'Challa's salty sweat, rain, and cut-ridden body knew no pain while fully engulfed in his lawless hunt. Pain was simply a mask worn by pleasure, the only thing his body sought. He could not idly wait for an elevator that would require him to stand still, he tracked down the stairwell, shoving a passerby to the floor with a rattling thump against the wall. Whether they were male or female, old or young he could not say for his tunnel vision made him blind to anything that was not Nalani. Reason and apprehension did not exist.

"NALANI," he wailed from his chest in anguish of her being so close yet so far from his clawed grasp. He could feel her proximity.

Nalani bolted upright instantly in her bed with wide eyes for the voice she'd heard was unmistakable, yet chillingly dissimilar as if he were a different entity all together. How could it be that he'd discovered and tracked her so quickly? Her troubled mind spun with wonder within a millisecond while she threw together her belongings. For the sake of their love, she had to escape quickly. She had to survive. Without a moment's hesitation, her body flew into action tying sheets, blankets, her scarf, clothing, everything she could quickly manage to create a makeshift rope. Shifting the big fabric chair to the window, she used its stable weight to sandwich the rope against the windowsill, the end tied to the immovable table as the other end dangled on the outer wall of the hotel. She dangled from it, feeling every ounce of danger as rain soaked through her satin sleep set as well as the cloth rope. Swinging her weight, she kneed the glass of the window below. When there was no answer, she shimmied further down, nearly slipping to her demise. With great effort, she kneed the next window which brought an angry red man to the window. He whipped open the curtains, but upon noting her sincere fear and helpless condition along with the nonthreatening frame, he helped her inside.

"Jesus, why are you out there," he exclaimed with attempts to dry her and gain an explanation but Nalani's sole mission was to survive the night.

Intoxicated by the scent of his target, so chokingly thick and near, his eyes rolled back. The wolf that was T'challa growled from deep within his core.. the rumble unheard in his ears as he ascended staircases, a hellhound with one lone purpose. A shrill scream could be heard as he bumped another obstacle over the railing to a crushing fall ending in their silence. His entire nervous system was alight. Nalani was on the move and he couldn't be anymore wired. Her goal was the car.. the same vehicle T'Challa had assisted her in preparing with gas, foreign money, food, and clothing for this very purpose. She'd taken him lightly and it would prove to cost her dearly.

"NALANI," she heard him howl. She raced into the first unlocked room she could find. It was dark and unoccupied. With deceptive calmness she approached the window and considered creating a shorter rope than before using the limited materials around her, but there was no time. He was too near. She'd already locked the door, but now she did not doubt that she was trapped and awaiting a grim fate. All she could do was crawl under the bed and pray yet again. Regretfully, her journey of love and life had come to a blunt end. "You can run, but you cannot hide," he called.

T'Challa trembled and panted in a deep and awful sweat. His once pristine nails were jagged and dirty with blood and soil and they dragged across the door with a menacingly slow scratch, trailing toward the knob. "Nalaniii..," he groaned, his hand ghosting his tightening groin as he listened. He could hear her heart race. Bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh. He could tear her completely apart with desire alone. "My dear Nalani," his voice deepened. "Come now, Kitten, do you truly believe I'd cause you harm?" His nostrils flared. "Show yourself to me."

Though terrified, Nalani desperately wanted to believe that T'Challa could overcome any obstacle that would threaten her life. He had the will of iron. She hoped he would somehow find strength within himself to walk away. His quiet laugh of depravity snapped her from her vain hopes.

She flinched and covered her mouth so not to scream at the terrifyingly loud hit that shook door. Like a scene from The Shining, he was determined to get to her, ramming the barrier. She flinched again when he followed with an aggressive barrage that collapsed the lock and the entire door. He broke it down like drywall and stood silently. She dared not breathe.

His worn feet broke her heart. They were damaged and he needed medical attention. They were all she could see from under the bed. His stride was slow, measured, and quiet. His low guttural growl was identical to that of an enemy tiger and it grew louder as he came nearer. She clamped another hand over her mouth.

T'challa salivated, swallowing before leaking another involuntarily deep growl. It rumbled through Nalani like a low grade earthquake. She watched as he stopped in front of the bed and bent, his veined hand touching down to the floor directly before her wide eyes. She gulped as his soil caked fingernails tapped the floor, the only movement in the darkness. When his hand withdrew, it left her confused. He climbed onto the bed above her, his weight collapsing over her back. Then his head popped into view. Upside down he hung, his inhuman eyes locking onto hers.

In a flash, she was dragged by her wrists from under the bed. "Fight it, T'Challa!" He tossed her and she wheezed as her back hit the mattress. His vice grip on her wrists was crushing as she wrestled for her freedom. "You don't have to do this, you don't have to. T'Challa, you can fight it." There was no recognition in his eyes at the the mention of his own name. She remained still as if she could play dead and when his teeth clamped hard on the base of her neck as if trying to rip her apart she reflexively kneed him in the groin. She screamed to the top of her lungs hoping a neighboring hotel guest would set aside fear and interject. His heavy hand clamped down on her throat, holding her down with his nails in her reddened skin, his fearsome eyes silencing. She held her breath as he bared his teeth, a genuine threat as his engorged member laid against her stomach. His snarl was in her ear, low and rumbling. "T'Challa, please! Remember who you are." His response was to tug roughly at her satin sleep set causing large rips while his jagged nails left fresh welts on her thighs and stomach. Fighting, she caught his hands, bringing hers to hold his cheeks. "T'Challa you have to hear me!"

This was not T'Challa. T'Challa had never been this rough. There was love in his every touch and affection in his kind eyes. He handled her like a high-priced gem, fragile and flawless, worthly of gentle fingers and heartfelt praise. No, this was an illness. The brutal creature above her was infected with a deadly condition. "Bring him back," Nalani begged as her body was yanked into position. His veined hands were strong and lively as he held her in place, little warning leading up to fevered thrusts. He smelled earthy and metallic. He grunted as he crashed with reckless abandon, seeking heat from the only hot and moist part of her body uneffected by the elements. Both of them were painted in blood and sweat, soaked through with rainwater.

"Bring back my T'Challa." She willed him to fight as his weight dropped back down in a ferocious rampage that jiggled her entire body and made her cry out in eye-crossing ecstacy. Her guilt was equal to the strength of her high-powered orgasm. Shaking, she tried to pull away but he doubled down with her thighs around his waist, her small hands clutching desperately to his broad muscular shoulders, clenching his forearms. She guiltily dug her own fingernails into his unmarked arms and it earned another gut rattling growl. The room echoed the sounds of a barn of animalistic lust. His tiger-like growls mingled with her camel-like grunts and then he flipped her onto her stomach, her knee rising and arms stretching to grab the sheets. Her eyes were squeezed shut as he jabbed into her womb. He fisted the soft hair at the base of her scalp bringing a burn of tension and her hand swung back.

"OW, That hurt," she shrieked scraping at his hand which aggressively pushed her head forward, mashing her face into the mattress. His hand moved to the back of her neck, holding her down. She hated it, but she could not stop her release. His words when he'd explained this phenomenon in the past had returned to to bite her, literally, Nalani's neck was still bleeding.

"Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers. It starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters," T'Challa had whispered sweetly into her hair as she sat on his lap. She had nuzzled firmly into him then, feeling safe and not understanding his message. "Are you serenading me with Florence and the Machine?" She'd giggled at his approach.

"Ow," she breathed into the mattress for the umpteenth time. He clamped his teeth down on the back of her shoulder, desire unbound. When she attempted to climb the bed to escape, he gripped both of her wrists and locked them behind her in one hand. She was overheated and cramping. She felt that she likely had bruises all over along with her cuts that still ached. Her arm felt as though it would rip from the socket. She'd given up. Just then she saw the shade of the sky change.. Black to midnight blue. She begged for sunrise as his inner elbow locked under her chin. "..T'Challa," she strained feeling him choke her as she weakly tapped on his arm, scraping with her fingernails. He bit her again. The sky lightened to a dark denim. "T'Challa," she whispered nearly inaudibly, his heavy body still slamming hers unceasingly. Blood stained the sheets around her and the strong salty stench had numbed her. Her neck and chest felt sticky and she rushed the sky as it slowly broke into dawn.

"Nalani," T'Challa panted as he released her neck and collapsed, his full weight on her. He was having difficulty breathing, yet found strength to roll from the bed onto the floor.

"T'Challa," Nalani gasped, fearful. She heard loud voices in the hall just then. Police were on the way. "T'Challa," she cried willing him to rise. There was nowhere to go and she could not move. When the police arrived, they were both carted out on stretchers and taken away by ambulance. They were in terrible condition, but the both of them had in fact survived the night.

#original #tchalla #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa fic #black panther fanfiction

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cheesy09 · 3 years

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Confessions for Christmas

A/n: Here’s to wishing every one of you a wonderful and wholesome Christmas season! I love you all! 💕 Tagging @kudoriee @thatfanfictionchick @dreamer-hyun @keliosyfan @pamakali and @sunshinejihyun. I wish you guys a warm and blessed christmas and even if we haven’t talked much, just know that I still love you with all my heart because you made my 2020 worth it 🥺

Pairing: Kiro x Reader Word Count: 2,651 Genres: Christmassy Fluff!

Closing the book that you were reading, you glanced out the cabin window, watching the pure white snowflakes dance through the air as soft Christmas music played in the background. Never in a million years did you dream you'd find yourself here, tucked away in a log cabin at some fancy mountain resort, as far away as possible from the hustle and bustle of the city streets you had grown accustomed to during this time of year.

Looking at the christmas tree and surrounding candles sitting in the corner of the room, a rare tranquility filled your heart and you welcomed it. You breathed in deeply, soaking in the warm atmosphere. You never felt more at peace then you did right now, and you had Kiro to thank for it all.

You glanced at the starlit sitting on the carpet by the fireplace. He was busy immersed in his sheet music, his earphones plugged in his ears. Even though he had brought you here to spend a lovely Christmas together and escape the ever growing pressures of your jobs, work had still managed to find him, not granting him any means of escape. It was a pity and he had even complained about it in the beginning, but Kiro still regarded the job with the utmost professionalism.

You admired him for his dedication, one of the thousand other things that you loved about him, but it was Christmas Eve and it was close to midnight. You’d be damned if you let the day end like this for the two of you; doing the one thing you had come here to escape from.

Placing your Jane Austen novel aside, you stood up and walked across the room towards him, making sure not to make a single sound, a playful smile spreading across your lips, a twinkle of mischief dancing in your eyes. Not that Kiro would notice. Once his attention was fixed on something, there was nothing in the world that could hinder him.

Except you.

Successfully managing to seat yourself behind him, you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing yourself against his back, pulling out his earphones in the process. Kiro flinched a bit, startled by the disturbance, but immediately relaxed under your touch once he realised who it was.

“Miss Chips...” he sighed as you nuzzled your face against his, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He smelled sweet and warm, a delectable fusion of honey and hot chocolate. “Aren’t you done yet?” you murmured, planting soft, feather-like kisses against the side of his face. “It’s close to midnight.”

“No, not yet,” he replied. He sounded almost tired, his voice lacking the usual liveliness that it usually carried. He lifted up the sheet of music to look it over again and frowned at it slightly. “While the main arrangement is mostly done, it’s still lacking a little... something. The melody isn’t completely delivering the message I want to convey, for some reason...” His look turned pensive. “I wonder if there’s something I’m missing...”

You glanced at the sheet of music. It was a piano score this time, so you were able to piece the melody in your head fairly easily and you hummed along to the tune that formed there. Your arms tightened around him. “What are you talking about? It sounds lovely to me.”

Kiro shook his head, his soft golden hair brushing against your skin. “That isn’t enough! It needs to be perfect.”

You raised your head slightly to look at him. He was still looking at the music score, the fire casting a glow on the contours of his profile, illuminating his beautiful features. His baby blue eyes swirled with a number of emotions that only you could catch. There was determination and persistence, but also fatigue and frustration. Watching him, a mix of fondness and sadness filled your heart.

How many times was he going to put himself through this torture? Constantly striving for perfection, pushing himself to the brink until he almost collapsed, sacrificing every piece of himself until he would eventually fade away. Thinking about his cold, lonely figure hunched in a corner, trying desperately to reach for the light that he’s yearned for all his life made your heart clench, your desire to protect him overwhelming you.

You rested your cheek against his, and spoke gently. “Don’t force it. If you push yourself to do something you can’t handle right now, you’d automatically end up with a bad result.”

“But—”

“Kiro, look at me,” you urged, repositioning yourself in his lap so that you were straddling his waist. You carefully took his music sheet from his hands and placed it at the side, making sure to put a few weights over it. Kiro’s hands came to rest on your hips, his sparkling eyes carefully watching your every movement. Your eyes locked, yours on his, and you pressed your forehead against his.

“You’re doing your best, I know you are,” you said, your voice soft yet firm, wanting your every word to be engraved onto his heart. “I’ve seen you grow in front of me, and I’ve witnessed your light, your dedication, your passion, your resolve and you’ve come to become more and more dazzling day by day.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Kiro’s eyes closed involuntarily, dreamily.

“But I’ve also seen you at your lowest; those times when you think that no one’s watching,” you continued, putting a little distance between yourselves. You carefully cupped his face and tenderly stroked his cheeks. “I’ve seen you face the darkness alone, struggling with sleepless nights and overbearing responsibilities. After all, my eyes are always on you.”

Kiro’s eyes fluttered open and you watched as the light within them trembled, his lips quivering with emotion, laying every single one of his fears and insecurities bare for you to see. He was so vulnerable right now. So fragile and delicate, that a single word from you could either make or break him. It was almost terrifying sometimes; how easily he gave you this power over him. Seeing the unconditional trust that he put in you with his heart, your chest swelled with so much love and adoration, you couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. Helpless affection coated your next words.

“And despite all odds, you’ve never given up. You’ve only become stronger and better. And everyday, I find myself more and more enamoured with you.” You leaned back in and brushed your nose against his. Kiro’s breath hitched slightly at your proximity. “You’re not perfect. But you still manage to take my breath away.”

You slowly laced your fingers together and lifted his hand to lay a delicate kiss against it, your actions telling him what words could not, treating him like the priceless treasure that he was. You wondered if you had managed to convey your feelings to him, to tell him that no matter what, you’d always have his back.

But... if you failed, then you were no better than the song he was working on; an ‘arrangement whose melody was unable to completely deliver the desired message.’

You looked back up at him, hoping to get a clue from his facial expression and the sight you saw superseded all of your expectations.

Kiro’s eyes were wide, his dazzling sapphire orbs radiating with feeling. A warm blush bloomed across his cheeks, spreading up to the tips of his ears and you were taken back to those days when the two of you still weren’t dating yet. He had been so bashful and shy then, a mere boy really. But as days passed, you had watched his self-esteem build, watched him slowly grow to love himself bit by bit. He still had a long way to go, but the fact that you had gotten to witness those precious moments related to him made you feel so incredibly lucky.

Yet, even with how much he’s changed over the course of almost two years, there were parts of him that would forever remain constant. Like his purity and bravery, or the way he was acting right now.

Seeing the way Kiro’s eyes darted around nervously, unsure of what to say, a sly grin spread across your face, your desire to tease him a bit getting the better of her. “My, my, mr. Kiro,” you giggled, pecking his nose lightly. “Are you perhaps being shy?”

Kiro pouted a bit, looking like he was knew exactly what you were up to, yet he didn’t deny it. “I can’t help it,” he mumbled, the pink on his cheeks growing even more prominent. “I’ve never seen you act so... passionately before. I was kinda caught off guard.”

You didn’t expect him to take it so seriously. Under normal circumstances you would’ve found it in you to blush at his words, but with all the emotions that had built over the course of these few minutes and with Kiro’s sudden cuteness, your feelings only intensified. You felt your eyes lid, and your lips burned with a sudden need to kiss him.

“I should do this more often,” you whispered to yourself, closing the distance.

“Wha- mph!” Kiro’s words were cut short by your lips. Your fingers twined themselves in his soft hair and tugged gently, earning yourself a moan from him, the sound pleasantly making your toes curl, your insides burn. His warm, christmassy scent invaded every crevice of your being, filling your mind to the brim with his existence; gentle, loving, kind and warm. Kiro’s hands travelled from your hips, up your spine and came to rest on your back as he fervently returned the kiss.

You moved one of your hands to cup his face lightly and felt the feverish temperature of his skin under your fingertips as you stroked his cheek. It made your heart skip a beat as well as stirred something in you; something carnal and raw.

Intense craving consumed you, sparking your senses, eroding your rationality. You slowly pushed him down onto the carpet, your mouth growing more and more insistent with every passing second.

Your intensity must have probably been too much for Kiro, seeing as how he clutched at your clothes desperately. You both parted to catch your breath, your hair cascading in columns down the sides of your face. Kiro rested his right hand against your cheek, his chest heaving, gaze half-lidded with longing and desire. “Did I miss something?” he gasped. “Since when did you become so aggressive? Miss Chips, have I been teaching you wrong things?”

You giggled and leaned down to softly kiss his cheeks. “Well, it’s not fair that you’re always on the offensive, now is it?” you say cheekily. “I want my fair share of blushy Kiro too.”

“B-blushy Kiro?!” he spluttered, pretending to look incredibly offended. “Miss Chips, that’s just mean.”

“Say whatever you will,” you shrugged. “But now that I’ve finally had a taste of it...” You brought your lips to his ear and whispered “This won’t be the last you’ll see of this.”

“Oh, really?” Kiro asked, his low voice sounding oddly sly. You glanced at him from the side and found a mischievous smirk stretched across his face, and a naughty glimmer in his eyes.

Oh no.

Before you could even figure out what was happening, you found yourself pinned to the floor with Kiro’s hands at your sides, tickling you to glory.

“Haha! St-stop it!” You laughed uncontrollably, your poor sides facing the brunt of his sudden tickle attack. His fingers were merciless and you squirmed restlessly under him as Kiro laughed along with you. He didn’t stop until he heard a tiny yawn escape your lips. His hands froze mid-tickle and his expression turned guilty.

“I’ve kept you up for too long, sorry,” he apologized as you were busy catching your breath. Without any word or warning, he got up and gently scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom. “It’s sleepy time!”

You didn’t protest, much too tired to do so, and just let him hold you, revelling in his warmth. Kiro placed you on the bed, made sure you were nicely tucked in and was about to head over to his own bed across the room when he felt you tug at his sleeve.

You looked at him longingly and opened up your arms to him. For some reason, you couldn’t stand the thought of Kiro being apart from you tonight. The blonde didn’t object to it, either. In fact, as soon as he got your signal, a bright smile flashed across his face, like a kid on christmas morning, and he dove into your arms, locking you in an embrace. You hummed quietly, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as you hugged him back.

The snow quietly piled outside, and you vaguely remember that the audio player and lights were still left on back in the living room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. After all, your whole universe was right there, in your arms, smiling the most precious smile you’ve ever seen on him. He was everything, and more.

Kiro suddenly let out a tiny giggle as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “What is it?” you whispered, twining your legs with his under the blanket.

Kiro tightened his arms around you and let out a soft sigh. “Nothing just... I feel so blessed.”

Before you could reply to his statement, Kiro continued, his voice suddenly turning somber. “Before I met you, Christmas was just like any other normal day to me, the only difference being brighter lights and colder weather. I saw people get together with their families... have fun... Sometimes, even Savin would get off to visit his family so I’d stay at home and relax. But honestly? I felt a little... lonely.”

Your soul quivered at his words and you bit your lip. Sometimes you’d wish you could have been apart of his life earlier, so you could give him all that love he missed out on, the love that he so rightfully deserved.

“And then you came,” Kiro continued, his voice now taking on a cheerful, affectionate lilt. “You came and everything changed. The cold lights on the street suddenly turned warm, and now when I see snowfall all I can think about is making snowmen or snow angels with you, or coming home to a warm cup of hot chocolate and cuddling with you by the fireplace or just... this. You and me, wrapped in each other’s arms.” He paused, thought for a moment and went on, his voice growing a little softer. “I guess what I mean to say is... thank you, for making my Christmas, Miss Chips.”

By the time he was done, you were on the verge of tears, your heart pounding, your chest swelling. It was too much. He was too much. How did you ever get so lucky?

With every ounce of strength you could muster, you pulled Kiro impossibly close to you and pressed your lips against his ear. Everything you wanted to say to him was compressed into three heartfelt words. “I love you,” you whispered. “So very much.”

There was silence for some time. Kiro lifted his head slightly to look at you for a few seconds, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion, and slowly crept forward and sealed your lips with his.

The kiss was firm and lingering, yet gentle and telling, transmitting his affections into a form that required no words. He was your christmas - one that you could celebrate everyday. The clock struck twelve, signaling the hour of midnight and the two of you slowly parted.

Kiro pressed his forehead against yours and your breaths blended together, just like your hearts. “Merry Christmas, Miss Chips.”

You smiled, probably the happiest smile ever and replied “Merry Christmas to you too, Kiro.”

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

Thank you so much for reading. For more of my works, click here :)

#mr love queens choice #mr love kiro #mlqc #mlqc kiro #mlqc fanfiction #kiro fanfic #mr love fanfic #no wholesome kiro christmas date #so had to make my own #especially after chapter 28 #anyway #now that im done with kiro #*cracks knuckles*#gavin your next #oh and also #Merry Christmas guys!

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dalekofchaos · 3 years

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My critique of the Sequel Trilogy Lightsaber duels

My biggest problems with the Sequel Trilogy are the blatant rip off and unoriginality, no clear plan at all, lore breaking bullshit, lack of worldbuilding and poor executions of great character concepts. In this post, one of my My biggest gripes with the Sequels is the terrible Lightsaber fights.

The only good duel in my opinion is Finn vs Kylo Ren. This feels raw and powerful. A hardened soldier who has just became familiar to Lightsaber combat vs a trained dark side warrior. Despite Ren's years on training, though, Finn puts up a good fight and is able to hold his own before having his back sliced up. But.....that's what kills the fight for me. Finn's injuries. If this were in the first 6 movies or anywhere in the EU, Finn would be in a wheelchair or in a bacta tank for life. And guess what? A movie later and Finn’s injuries are never brought up again or treated with any severity.

Like Finn’s injuries, Finn’s rivalry with Kylo Ren is dropped for no reason whatsoever and never mentioned again. Finn and Kylo Ren are narrative foils, yet after TFA it’s dropped??? From the start they have been prominent foils to each other: dark from light and light from dark, both in the First Order but in drastically different positions. And Kylo too obviously has strong feelings about his defection. I also believe that Finn is the awakening in the force that Kylo and Snoke felt. Perhaps that is why Kylo focused on Finn and is so angry about him. Finn is also the first person to use the legacy lightsaber and is the first to actually fight Kylo. TLJ could've focused on Finn and Kylo being narrative foils having a force connection and Kylo wondering why Finn would switch to the Resistance while Finn wonders why Kylo joined The First Order and Rey standing in the middle of it all wondering with the new realization that her family has a mixed past of good and evil and her questioning where exactly does she belong? The way at the height of tfa when Kylo Ren rejected Han Solo’s offer for redemption and killed him he looked over and noticed Finn. Like they both locked eyes and in that moment was a surge of emotions between them— shock (and some fear) on Finn’s end, and anger on Kylo’s as he shouts at Finn that he’s a traitor— and those circumstances set Finn and Kylo up to be the dynamic for the sequel trilogy. They were foils, and the trilogy had the potential to truly expand on that and see their development in a final standoff/rematch at the very end. But it was wasted, because why have good movies.

Rey vs Kylo Ren. This duel was bullshit from start to finish. Okay, I don't care how force sensitive she is. I don't care that she downloaded Kylo's abilities in the interrogation. ANd I don't give a fuck WHO she turned out to be related to. If you are thrown into a tree, you are gonna be out for at least an hour. I will hand it to them that it feels like a genuine fight, but it just feels cheap when Rey won. It also doesn't make it any better that Kylo's injuries doesn't force him to wear the helmet at all times, his facial wounds are non-consequential. Rey has no prior training. Never held a lightsaber. Rey fighting off thieves with her quarterstaff is not the same thing, it is understandable that Kylo was struggling because of his injuries, but Rey didn’t struggle against Kylo. Even Luke struggled with Vader and Anakin struggled with Dooku. What should have happened is as it looks like Kylo is about to win, Chewie from the Falcon fires his bowcaster to keep Ren at bay and both Rey and Finn make it to the Falcon. This way we can keep Kylo Ren strong and show Rey struggling to overcome Kylo. It will also show This is how powerful he is when injured, so imagine him at his peak. Instead we get a pointless fight instead of Rey and Finn just escaping Starkiller base while Ren collapses due to injuries and Rey beating Kylo served no purpose(the end goal to destroy Starkiller Base was already accomplished) and helped derail their villain of the trilogy.

The Throne Room Duel. Everyone knew that Rey and Kylo would kill the Praetorian Guards. This is a fight with absolutely zero stakes. It's one thing if Rey and Kylo dueled Snoke himself, that might be a good fight. But come on, did anyone REALLY think they would lose? There is no tension in the scene and it is pointless. Kylo Ren and Rey are fighting a faceless a group of guards that we know absolutely nothing about and have literally no purpose in the entire story except for this one fight. We know neither of the characters are going to die because these are just faceless red shirts and there is still like 30 to 40 minutes left of the movie. Terrible editing takes away any enjoyment one might have with the fight choreography, if you've got to literally photoshop out the bad guys weapons in post production to not look stupid you might need to recoreograph the shot. There are multiple times where Rey, Kylo and the guards are just doing motions and actions because they look cool but serve no purpose but to look cool. Kylo stabbing the ground? Pointless. Rey twirling her rave stick around while someone falls behind her, pointless. Not even once do we see them displaying their powers is what cheapens the fight. Kylo Ren is powerful enough to freeze a blaster and a person in place and Rey herself unlocked Kylo’s powers, so the two of them could have easily ended the fight sooner than it was dragged out. Kylo is powerful in the force but he SERIOUSLY could not stop a Praetorian Guard choke holding him and Rey struggled with a guard? Rey and Kylo were stronger in TFA and are just made weaker in the duel with the Praetorian Guards. Kylo could have frozen half of the guards and Rey could have mind tricked the other half into killing the frozen guards and Kylo and Rey could have finished them. They are masters of light and darkness, but they are made weaker. The throne room scene is a symbolization of everything wrong with the movie. It’s all flash, but no substance and the more you think about it, the worse it gets.

All this duel makes me believe is that Rey and Ben should’ve both switched sides in TLJ. Rey gives in to the dark side and Ben returns home. Rey is the most Sith like character if you obey the rules of George Lucas for Light and Dark sides of the force. Ben Solo is more Jedi like throughout the movie until the end. Let me explain. Rey throughout the sequel trilogy has given in to her passion and anger. In the end of TFA Rey gave in to anger and hate to defeat Kylo. and in TLJ she is shown to use anger and hate throughout the movie. She is shown to as Yoda put it “take the quick and easy path to the dark side” gives in to anger and hate in almost every scene before she boards the Supremacy and gave in to the temptations of the dark side water cave. Her dark side actions in TROS speak for itself. Ben is calm and clear minded like a Jedi, he even wants to cut all ties to attachments like a Jedi. Everything we were told of the Jedi and how disciplined they are, Ben displays that in TLJ until after the Throne room fight. Hell, EVEN THE THRONE ROOM FIGHT SUGGESTS THIS. Think about the fact that Ben really does not move or even engage. He just stands there and dodges and swings once when the guard rushes him. Contrast that to Rey, who is clearly being more aggressive with her lightsaber and attacking rather than just being passive. How again is Rey the Jedi and Kylo is the dark side force user in this movie? They’re fighting in the exact opposite way they should be. Rey fights for the kill while Kylo gets a glancing blow in the armor in the opening fight. Their style of fighting in the Throne Room with the Praetorian Guards really suggests that they should’ve switched sides. What they should have done is have Ben realize that Snoke was evil and shows regret for his actions and turn to the light. While Rey feeling betrayed by Luke and the revelation of her family turns to the dark. This would not only be unexpected but would even rival Vader’s “I am your father” twist. And it would logically follow what we’ve seen of these two characters leading up to this point. Rather than just out of the blue Kylo turns angry and irrational and Rey is calm when Ben was calm and rational throughout the movie and Rey was full of anger and hate throughout this movie. You have them follow an arc that makes sense for their individual personalities. Ben is always calm, but he felt betrayed by those on the light, but he comes to realize that betrayal was an incorrect perception and he desperately wants to make amends to Luke and Leia and therefore he should rejoin what he knows in his heart is good. While Rey is full of passion and anger and as that builds up and she realizes that even the great Jedi Luke Skywalker is a disappointment and her family abandoned her, she knows the only person who can live up to her own expectations is herself and that self-centered attitude leads her to the dark side. That would make sense and we would have something to fight for, save Rey from herself or stop her.

Luke Skywalker and Kylo Ren. Originally, I thought they were gonna have Luke first send the Walkers’ turboblasts right back at them and use the force to bring down the transports, TIEs and the shuttle and then toy with his nephew like Vader did to him and leave Kylo Ren in defeat and his ruined fleet. In a way he did(minus the ruined fleet), but it took away any tension away by having Luke just be a force projection. He wasn't there. His moment with Leia and 3-PO doesn't feel genuine anymore. And the "duel" if you can call it that is just bad. Luke doesn't have his Green Lightsaber and their blades do not clash. A Jedi is all about defense. But a Jedi will also fight in self-defense to defend others. The argument that Luke did the "most Jedi thing ever" is bullshit. A Jedi will stand up for what's right and face the threat. Instead Luke pulled a practical joke and died pointlessly. I mean if he instead pulled the X-Wing out afterwords and told R2 "Come on R2, we've got work to do." I would forgive that and then we could've gotten a genuine master and apprentice relationship between Luke and Rey and a proper reunion between Luke and Leia. But no, he has to die of force exhaustion. If Palpatine, who uses the force like crack didn't die of force exhaustion, then why did Luke?

The duels in TROS are all equally terrible. Not once did I felt any excitement between Rey and Kylo's duels as I did with Finn and Kylo from TFA. Every Lightsaber duel is forgettable. The fight in Ren's Quarters is just bad. The fight on the Death Star Ruins is just terrible. It's like they both got high on deathsticks and could barley remember that they are both trained with a Lightsaber. Fighting in ruins surrounded by water SHOULD BE EXCITING! But they did everything in their power to make this duel boring, mediocre and lackluster. They act as if they are swinging bats, not Lightsabers. Lightsabers aren’t baseball bats, stop treating them like they are!

The worst part is that THIS was the final Lightsaber duel of the Star Wars saga. A huge step down if compared to Obi Wan vs Anakin in Mustafar and Darth Vader vs Luke Skywalker in the Emperor’s Throne Room, which unlike the previous prequel, had awesome shooting and use of the soundtrack, also being very lengthy.

Then we get the Luke and Leia flashback. The ONLY well choreographed fight scene is a fucking flashback.

Then Ben Solo and the Knights Of Ren. Again, we know the Knights are gonna die. If JJ Abrams bothered to characterize the Knights, then yes they might've had a chance, but like the Praetorian Guards, they exist for background and die pointlessly.

Of Course we don't get to see Palpatine duel wielding his twin Sith Lightsabers and fighting Rey and Ben, cause JJ mr I hate the Prequels can't give the fans any decent Lightsaber fights. Instead of Palpatine facing Rey and Ben in an epic climatic final battle, we get Palpatine killed by his own lightning.

The fights in TFA is adequate at best. TLJ is meaningless. TROS is absolutely terrible and forgettable.

John, Daisy and Adam deserved better choreography than they were given. There's no excuse for the lackluster duels we see in the ST, whether from Rey, Finn or Kylo.

One of the biggest complaints for the Prequels is Lightsaber fights is "they are too choreographed" and anyone who believes this is an idiot. What? You wanted Jedi in their prime to slap sticks like old people? You wanted them to fight like drunken hobos? One of the best things in the prequels was finally getting to see the Jedi finally go all out in some awesome lightsaber duels. The Jedi should be masters at Lightsaber combat. Fight choreography is a good thing. Look at the duels in the prequels. You can like or hate them but the duel between Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon and Maul was great. As was Obi-Wan vs Jango, Yoda vs Dooku and every duel in ROTS. Even The Clone Wars had great fight choreography. There was more planning and choreography in The Clone Wars S7E10 than in the whole sequel trilogy.

Seriously, why wasn't Nick Gillard contacted? He is the main reason why the Lightsaber duels in the prequels were so good. I don't care if too many Lightsabers were a big complaint amongst the Prequel haters, the duels were good. So instead of great fight scenes, you traded great fight choreography for mediocre baseball bat fights?

The choreography is not the issue alone. There is no emotion. In TFA. Starkiller Base was already set to blow, so the fight was pointless. In TLJ there is no emotion at stake for the Throne Room fight and the Resistance already got away prior to Luke's pointless death. Rey vs Kylo doesn’t even matter because the characters HAVE THE SAME GOAL. Both want to get to Exegol via a wayfinder before the duel and both get to Exegol with a wayfinder (or memory of it) at the end of the duel. While Kylo gets redeemed, the duel wasn’t necessary for this part as Leia just needed to talk to him and then give him the force induced memory. The only thing this proves is that Rey is not a Jedi because she gives into anger and blind rage to start the duel.

The duels in the prequels and originals had themes, emotion and meaning. Not just that but they looked damn impressive and was the spectacle that helped made Star Wars, Star Wars.

There isn't any good musical scores for any of the Lightsaber fights either or at the very least, nothing memorable. Nothing as iconic as Duel Of Fates, Battle Of Heroes and the Throne Room fight in ROTJ. I don't remember any themes in the Sequels and that's a problem.

And it doesn’t help that these duels have no meaningful deaths either. A bunch of faceless guards and Luke (through indirect means) are the only deaths via a duel. But this is what happens when you hide the mentor archetype on an island and have the hero and villain go at it for three films.

The Lightsaber duel is no longer an emotional spectacle and a grand duel to the death. It's a bunch of idiots high on deathsticks fighting pointlessly and fighting for absolutely nothing. Rey fights like a Sith but she's a Jedi. Ben fights like a Jedi but is leading the First Order? They don't matter anymore and the duels in the sequels are the most forgettable thing about them.

#Anti Sequel Trilogy #Anti TFA #Anti TROS #Anti TLJ #Rey #Finn #Kylo Ren #Ben Solo

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