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moamidzyism · 17 hours
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too much (k.th)
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wc. 3087
summary. when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, the last thing you want to do is to let him in. but his phone is dead, and the storm outside isn’t letting up anytime soon, and he really needs some dry clothes (and a warm body)
genre. angst + smut
tags. minors DNI!!! taehyun x fem!reader, exes to lovers, unprotected sex
a/n. the long awaited honeymoon avenue part two!! thank you for being patient with me for this. i’m so happy it’s actually done!
more of my work
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he’s standing outside your door, his hair and clothes drenched by the relentless downpour, an awkward smile clinging to his face like a mask. his soaked clothes also cling onto his frame and your mind swarms with confusion and frustration.
“what are you doing here?” you demand.
ignoring your question, he looks past you. his eyes fixated on the warmth emanating from your cozy, dry apartment. without waiting for an invitation, he asks, “can i come in?” reluctantly, you step aside. not because you really wanted him there, but because you wanted to shield your wooden floors from the relentless storm outside.
the wetness that clung to him mirrored the unresolved tension between you – heavy, uncomfortable, cold.
“thank you,” he mumbles, shedding himself of his sodden jacket and hanging it on your coat rack. the wetness drips onto your floors but he doesn’t acknowledge it. instead he pushes his usually meticulously styled hair, out of his face, where it clung in disarray.
your irritation grows as you press him again. “taehyun, again, what are you doing here?”
“i was in the area, and the storm started. this was the only place i knew that was nearby,” he casually explains.
“you live half an hour away from here.” he shrugs again, as if everything had lost its significance in the face of the storm outside, even space, time, and the months of silence between the two of you. “let me get you some dry clothes,” you relent. you disappear into your room. a brief flashback to your painful breakup flickers in your mind.
you looked at your phone again. it had been five minutes since you last called him and forty five minutes since he was supposed to meet you at the restaurant. he was the one who had originally planned to come here, but fifteen missed calls and twenty five unread text messages later, he was nowhere to be seen. and once again, you looked like the idiot who actually believed that your boyfriend was capable of changing.
you looked up at your waiter, who shot you an apologetic glance. gathering your things, you walked out the restaurant, but not before leaving a fifty dollar tip to your waiter for the second hand embarrassment he probably faced that evening on your behalf.
you fished around the back of your closet for old clothes and grabbed a towel from your dresser. you return to the living room and hand him the towel without a word. he takes it, you fingers brushing briefly. he dries his face and his hair, his eyes never leaving you. you try your hardest to avoid eye contact with him. another crash of thunder rumbles through the house, and for a moment, you both look towards the sound.
when your gazes return to each other, you shove the dry clothes towards him. taehyun’s eyes linger on the clothes, an extra large pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. he quirks an eyebrow and scoffs. “moved on already?”
“they are my brother’s,” you respond bluntly, a subtle defiance in your tone. “and you can leave when the storm clears up.” you leave him to change in solitude. the storm outside rages and you can’t shake the feeling that this unexpected reunion might dredge up more than just old memories.
you got home that night and stripped yourself of the new dress that you had just gotten earlier that day. you ought to burn it. any reminder of the humiliation you just faced had to disappear off the face of the earth. you checked your phone, seeing if taehyun had finally remembered that you existed or finally decided that you were worthy of a response. but the only notification you had received in the time since you left the restaurant was an email with a free shipping coupon from an online store that you swore to never shop at again.
you turned off your phone and went to bed. there was no point in staying up, checking your phone every five minutes to see if he would actually text you back. tomorrow, you decided, you will be done with taehyun, for good this time.
you are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you look up to see your ex-boyfriend standing in his newly dried clothes. “hey,” he says softly, his hands finding a home on the back of his neck. his gaze is uncertain, as if he’s not entirely sure how you will receive him.
“yes?” he slowly opens the door further.
“i just wanted to apologize for what i said earlier.” he cautiously inches towards you.
“it’s fine, tae.” you take a deep breath, your voice softening ever so slightly. he stops himself from smiling at the use of the nickname.
“no, it’s not fine,” he begins. “you let me into your house and i insult you after ten minutes of being here.” he shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to bear the weight of your gaze.
“taehyun, what are you doing here?” a note of frustration creeps into your voice.
“i wanted to see you.” he replies simply.
you run your hands through your hair. “god, i can’t do this right now.” you say, mostly to yourself – a reminder, almost, that you cannot let yourself fall for him again.
“i’m sorry, i just…” his voice trails off, as if he is struggling to find the right words to say.
“you can’t just show up like this, taehyun. it’s not fair.” you sigh again. “it’s not fair to either of us.”
as each second of this conversation passes, he sees the stress lines deepen on your face. he slumps his shoulders. “i know, and i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have come here unannounced, especially with everything that happened between us.” he cannot meet your piercing gaze. “but the rain just reminded me of that night after my parents, and i couldn’t get you out of my head. i just had to see you.”
when you got to the hotel that night, he went straight to the front desk and asked the receptionist for a cot to be delivered to your room. in the room, he went straight to the bathroom, not saying a word to you.
you couldn’t figure him out – was he mad at you? did he not want to talk to you because he thought you didn’t want to talk to him? regardless, you slip out of your wet clothes and sit on the desk chair waiting for him to get out of the bathroom. when he does, you shower, trying so hard to scrub off the entire evening from your body.
stepping out of the shower, you took a look at yourself in a wiped out section of the obscured mirror. your face was exhausted and your eyes were red and puffy. you slipped into your pajamas and returned to the bedroom to find all the lights and taehyun fast asleep on the cot.
“i fucked up; i know i did,” he looks at you now, trying to find some glimmer of hope that you could forgive him. “but i just needed to see you – talk to you. i’ve been thinking a lot about us and about what went wrong.”
you swallowed hard, the memories of your break up still fresh in your mind. you know it doesn’t matter. you know that you can’t change what happened. you even know that getting an actual answer would ruin all the work you had done to get over him. but against everything in you, you ask him, “why didn’t you show up?”
“what?”
“at the restaurant, why didn’t you come?” you feel a pang in your chest, the familiar ache of unresolved feelings bubbling up to the surface. “taehyun, you just let me wait there. you didn’t call me or text me, not even the next morning.”
“i don’t know. i’m sorry.”
you’re not sure why you asked or what you even wanted from him. you just wanted the pain to end and part of you hoped that he could end it. but you had come to learn not to expect much from taehyun. “you can’t keep saying that every time you hurt me.”
“i know, but i mean it.” he inches closer to you, hoping that by seeing him and the regret that marks his face, you would let him in again.
and it almost works.
you almost forgive him but your better mind fights with all its might to keep your hand, that is itching to reach out for him, down. “i should get you a blanket.” you stand up from the bed and move over to your closet to fish for a spare blanket. you give it to him and you go your separate ways for the night – him on the couch and you in the quiet of your bedroom.
you lay in bed, trying hard to fall asleep but your mind drifts to the man in your living room, wondering if he is still awake, thinking about you. you stare at the space underneath your door. after what feels like thirty minutes, the hallway light suddenly turns off.
you get out of bed to see what caused the power outage. when you open the door, you see taehyun outside your room with his phone flashlight glaring right at you. you jump back in surprise. “what are you doing?”
“sorry,” he quickly apologizes, stepping back. “sorry, the power went out and i came to see if you had a candle or something. i didn’t want to keep using my phone because it’s about to die.”
you go to your bathroom and bring out a cheap scented candle to the living room. “this is the only thing i have.”
the two of you sit on the couch together, the worn fabric feels familiar beneath you. the candle sits on the coffee table between you, casting an uneven glow onto your faces. the wind howls outside, rattling the window panes of your small living room.
this scene, with the uncomfortable silence as you both shift in your seats, is almost laughable. you pull your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly as you stare at the flickering flame. occasionally your eyes flick to him, tentative, as if gauging the right moment to speak.
“did i wake you up?” taehyun finally fills the silence.
“no,” you begin, scratching the back of your neck. “i couldn’t sleep.”
lightning flashes, followed by a loud crash of thunder. you wince, your hands gripping around your legs tighter. he moves closer to you, his hand finding yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his hands – the warmth and familiarity of his touch.
when you opened your eyes, you loosened your grip on his hands. “sorry, about that.”
he shrugs it off, “i forgot you were scared of thunder.”
“yeah,” you sit up straight. taehyun doesn’t move from his position next to you.
“maybe it was a good thing that i showed up after all.”
you couldn’t even try to stifle your laughter. “yeah, you’re my knight in shining armor.” you joke.
“i’m just saying, what would you have done if i wasn’t here with you and the power went out?”
“if you weren’t here i’d probably be asleep, i wouldn’t have noticed it.”
“you wouldn’t have noticed the power went out?” taehyun teases you. “you’re the lightest sleeper i know.”
you don’t know why you allowed yourself fall back into comfortable conversation with him but everything goes by in a blur and suddenly you’re laying on the couch with taehyun hovering over your body. he slowly closes the distance between your bodies. he puts his hands on either side of you, giving you no option but to stare deeply into his big brown eyes. “tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers. “hell, i’ll even leave right now. i’ll go home and never bother you again. just tell me to stop.”
his eyes scan your face and you gulp at the feeling of his eyes gravitating towards your lips. “i don’t want you to stop.” you move slowly towards him, part of you hesitant to close the gap between the two of you, because closing the gap means willingly opening yourself up for him to hurt you again.
but when you see how the candlelight twinkles in his eyes, it’s easy for the other part of you to ignore your fears. it’s this part of you that pulls him into a passionate kiss, your hands delicately cupping his face.
your hands slide underneath his shirt but he stops you. your brows furrow in confusion. “what are you doing?” you ask him.
“i just need you to know that i’m sorry.”
“i know,” you run your hands through his now slightly damp hair. “i know you are, baby.”
he brings you upwards to gently peck your lips before leaning you back against the arm of the couch again. you pull him to kiss you again and as the kiss depeens, he takes the opportunity to suck on your lower lip, using his hand to slowly graze your covered breasts. you arch your back, bringing your chest closer to his body.
“i missed you,” taehyun confesses in between the kiss. “i missed you so fucking much.”
“me too,” you mirror him pathetically. all of your sense and self restraint flew out the window. taehyun stands, lifting you effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. he leans in to kiss you again. you respond eagerly, parting your lips to make way for his. he holds you tightly as he leads you away from the dimly lit living room towards the darkness of your bedroom. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as if afraid that he might vanish.
the two of you stumble through the hallway, bumping into walls, laughing breathlessly between kisses. taehyun pins you against the wall. your back hits the wall with a gentle thud, and you gasp, giving him a moment for his lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. you tilt your head back, closing your eyes, a soft moan escaping your lips. he tugs at your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him.
you arch into him, and your bodies mold together as you inch closer to your bedroom. taehyun pushes the door open with his food, stepping inside and laying you gently on the bed. you pull him down with you. “i need you.” you breathe out. you feel his hard dick through the fabric of his sweatpants. you squeeze him tightly, the way you know he likes it and you’re reassured when he gasps.
you don’t remember the last time you felt like this, like a horny teenager, sneaking a boy who should not be there into your bedroom, doing everything you can to get off. but regardless, taehyun feeds off your excitement, hoping that by you releasing your inhibitions with him, there still remains even a one percent chance that he can slide back into your life as you always let him.
you let taehyun guide his cock inside of you, anticipation and excitement fills your entire body when he pushes in. he takes all of you in, pressing his lips against yours as he slides in. you’re both moaning pitifully into each other’s mouths. you hate to admit how much you wish you could go back to when you guys were together. there’s just something about him being here in your bed with you that feels so normal, so natural, so good. for a second, you allow yourself to forget all the bad parts about your relationship – all the arguments and the fights, all the late nights waiting for him to come home, all the longing and all the pain. for a second, you only focus on how good he’s making you feel right now.
he wastes no time in picking up the speed, knowing how desperate for him you must be. your nails dig into the skin on his back, holding him closer to you. “you’re so big,” you moaned.
“i know baby,” he cooed. he’s so big inside of you. your walls haven’t felt this stretch in so long and you can’t stop yourself from clenching around him with every thrust. the way he grunts into your ear from the exertion has you clamping around him even more. “you’re so perfect to me,” he says between each thrust. “so so perfect for me.”
blood rushes up to your face and you try to hide it in the pillow by your side but taehyun turns your head. “i wanna see your face,” he says with a smirk on his face. he knows you fold every time he looks at you and of course you quickly nod your head, bringing his body closer to you with your legs.
his pace is unrelenting; you can’t last another second. you can’t stop yourself from crying out his name as a wave of ecstasy washes over you. he lets your walls spasm around his dick erratically as his hands press into your hips to hold you in place. taehyun realizes that he’s still weak for you when he sees your orgasm take over.
taehyun quickly cums too. “i love you,” he says as he does, finishing inside of you, his hips stilling as you milk him dry.
taehyun comes back down to earth first, slipping out of you, but still holding you close to his sweaty body as he lays back on the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around you. it takes a while for you to join him, but when the hallway light flickers as he whispers i love you, you quickly come back down in a panic. your body freezes up as you try to wrap your head around what just happened.
beside you, taehyun notices your change. he starts caressing your arm, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your chin, every part of your face he can reach, anything he can do to make you go back to how you were just a few moments ago. you allowed yourself to fall into his trap, do as he wanted. you snuggled closer to him and allowed yourself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing slowing down.
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sugar-plum-writer · 2 days
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Box Me Hard Tonight Boxer <3
Tags: Crazy sex; Nanami losing his mind; NSFW and more NSFW; Boxing terms not used the way boxing terms ought to be used cough; Nanami in a rut being hard and rough; is it even Nanami anymore? what have you done to him?; Fem!reader x Boxer!Nanami Kento; established relationship; marriage; MDNI; (18+)
A/n: I had the most delusional Nanami imagination. Normally I don't write him as I cannot write him properly. But today he summoned me to write on him. And thank you for 200+ followers! I am so happy and am kicking my feet right now! I have opened my asks feel free to check out the pinned post in my blog for more info on asks~
Synopsis: What happens when the promised surprise is you riling him up and breaking the control over himself he had so carefully crafted?
Word count: 1.8k
[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]
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Kento Nanami was a boxer turned UFC Champion-infamous worldwide for his tactics and combos, calm demeanor, polite nature but brutal and efficient fighting tactics.
Nanami focuses only on you as you rush towards him screaming in happiness, throw yourself over him and he holds you tight burying his head in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent god you smelled delicious
He had hustled towards you immediately once he was free from the press; had the seats specifically saved for you. You only deserve the best: the front row seats, the closest to his corner as the love of his life.
"Baby" he smiled at you softly compared to his ruthlessness in the ring as the reporters crowd around you and him trying to capture your pictures. He is a star, the sole focus- the champion the only "Kento Nanami"
His muscles flexed as the sweat dripped making his body glisten under the lights.
"Kento! we won! yay!", you kissed him excited unbothered by the people around wrapping your arms around his neck
"Yes, we did" he hums and melts under your kiss with a slight groan as he kisses you back, "So sweet- I can never get enough"- his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt not wanting to let you go.
As the mob gets more violent trying to click pictures, the bodyguards around you struggle to keep them away. Seeing the crowd he immediately scooped you in his arms, "Let's go home, love", he smiled softly as he carried you effortlessly
"Yes Darling let's go home~", you chuckle as his bodyguards in a matter of seconds have you two inside the car through the back door.
"You were so amazing Kento!", you look at him your eyes beaming with happiness, "It's all because of your love and support darling", he kissed you softly as the car started moving
"Kento~ haha!" you laugh as he kisses you and you kiss him back, "Love let's go for a vacation, where do you want to go hm?", he looks at you lovingly. Every time Kento had his match; after the match, you guys would go to for vacation to relax and unwind.
The car ride continues peacefully as you and Kento keep chatting, "Kento you know~ I have something special prepared for you today", you look at him playfully as his eyebrows arch intrigued
"What is love?", he chuckles as he looks at you amused, his hand finds its way to your thighs, caressing small circles into it as he hums softly. Squeezing your thighs.
"It's a surprise~ be patient Kento", you giggle as you rest your head on his shoulder and pat his crotch area making him hard, "Be good for me won't you?"
Let grunted and looked into your eyes hotly as if wanting to stuff you full with him right this instant, "Fine- I'll behave for you love…", his hot breath making you shiver as he whispered, "If only I get a reward later"
Soon you guys arrive home; Nanami gives you his hand to take as he helps you get out of the car and kisses your knuckles lovingly but- the moment the door opens and shuts behind the two of you, he's on you immediately- pinning you against his large frame on the wall.
His hand finds you on your cheek, tilting your face up as he kisses you deeply; your tongues intertwined. Wanting to taste you like a man who finally found an oasis in the desert; he kisses you even harder.
"I cannot be patient"- he looks at you in the eyes hungrily, his hands touching and squeezing your body as he fondles your breasts; wrapping your thighs around his waist- picking you up into his arms as he walks to your shared bedroom
"Ah-Nanamin" you moan as he kisses you hard biting your lips and nibbling on them, "Nanamin hah-" you look at him breathlessly, "Box me hard in the bed won't you?" you whisper as you wrap your hands around his neck making him freeze
"What?", his eyes darken, "Is that a proposal love?", his breath gets heavy as his lips hover above yours
"Do you like it?", you cheekily kiss him and smile teasingly making him lose his composure, "Love it to the ring baby", he whispers making you blush;
He pulls you into another kiss making you moan this one being rougher, hungry, and, full of carnal desire; "Ah- hah Kento ah", you moan against his lips as his hands slide under your shirt taking it off you, his teeth graze your neck before leaving bites leaving a hickey as you squirm
"Kento", you moan as he kisses you deeply once again and pulls away leaving a string of saliva, "Yes darling?" he chuckles as he removes his shirt gazing at your body, his toned muscles flexing themselves under the dim light- a confident smirk is on his lips- a completely different look than how he normally looks at you, what happened to him?
"I wonder", You look at him up and down as you touch his v-line making him groan, "Baby this is a dangerous game you are playing", he whispers with his cock twitching in his pants- oh how badly he wanted to touch him their and milk his cock with your pretty hands
"Hah~", you smirk as you look into his eyes, "Really? well, I wonder how hard my boxer can knock me out tonight~", you smirk with your words instantly sending goosebumps up his spine
"You are just asking to be punished aren't you?" he groans as his fingers dig deeper into your waist your words stirring something carnal inside him- he always likes to be gentle with you- loves you and treats you like the treasure you are, but your words are slowly eating away his control bit by bit
"Punish?", you smirk determined to break his composure to see what animalistic desires hide behind his calm demeanor. You have seen him when he boxes- that hint of insanity in his eyes makes you squeeze your legs together so tight- making you desire him so much it's embarrassing
"Why? will you box my pussy till it's stuffed and knocked out all sloppy?", you smirk and say as you spread your legs open making his breath hitch and his cock harden even more as he gazes at you and that damp spot on your panties- the spot so reserved for him and his dick
"Baby.." he leans in close so fast making you jump back, "Do you know what you are saying huh?" he whispers as he lowers his head and with his teeth rips your panties off throwing them off god knows where animalistically officially losing it; making you shudder as goosebumps spread all over your skin.
Oh shit- Oh shit you fucked up big time, you have never seen Nanami like this
But you aren't done yet hell you planned all kinds of vulgar things just to rile him up with a sharp breath you look at him and he notices as a devilish grin spreads across his lips
"Hah" you lean in and hotly whisper near his ears as his grip hardens on your hips bruising them and making you wince in pain, "Ya know… How about… You give me a fast jab with your dick-", you moan, "Then flip me over and do an uppercut as you fill me up-", his nails dig even deeper and he bites your shoulder bruising you like an animal in heat, "You slut you will be the death of me" he whispers and groans
"Then a side punch into my pussy from your dick as you fuck me from the side…and" your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes because of the pain but it felt so good, "Make me sit on top of you and do fast combos of uppercuts huh?"
Without any warning he stuffs his dick into your pussy roughly making you clench hard- your cunt desperately cries sloppily not used to harshness as she's always been treated like a princess not like a whore; working hard to adjust to his dick as he ruthlessly bullies his length inside you "Fuck" he groaned, "You are driving me crazy"
"Ah-hah-" you moan desperately, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts deep inside of you- hard, fast, and deep wanting to feel every inch of you around him, "Shit Kento! ahhh-", tears spill out of your eyes as you moan; your body aches with every insane thrust
"Hah-", he pants "You're absolutely mine, split so prettily on my dick my darling wife" he hungrily kisses you as his dick keeps moving, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head
There was not a hint of rationality behind his eyes as he was in a rut and just kept fucking you, even after you orgasm he kept going, fucking you through so many orgasms you'd lost count god he was treating you like a prostitute
Your eyes roll back at the sheer intensity wondering how you are even alive right now, "Kento- ah…hah~" you moan as your voice cracks, "Fuck- so perfect, so dirty and wet all for me hah", his hand bruised your skin where ever they touched
Your brain is so cock drunk you drool as he keeps going. He flips you over burying your face in the pillow roughly, his grip hard on your head and neck choking you all out as your vision goes white, "Kento- ah…I love you so much…I love your dick so much ah", you blurt out and choke even more as his grip on your neck makes you faint as you clench around him desperately not wanting to let go
"Oh yeah? Do you love my dick? Then take it like a good bitch! Don't dare let a single drop go to waste", his pace increases even more, making you go numb from sheer pleasure as your hands mindlessly scramble to grip the sheets to hold on for dear life as moans spill out from your mouth like a porn actress
"So fucking good!" he grunts and tosses his head back pussy drunk, you felt so good around him he can fuck you for days and nights just like that.
"ah- hah Kento-" you moan crazily as he and you reach the peak of your animalistic rut and desire, "Naughty girl.." he moans as he shudders with his climax approaching and he cums inside you hard painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim inside your womb, "You'll break my dick" he groaned as he panted heavily
"Hah…Kento…'tis so full ah…" you feel your brain short circuit as you knock yourself out dumb oozing out cum
Looking at you so fucked up, so messy, aroused him even more, his eyes darkens again with insanity behind them, "Don't knock yourself out now…you asked for this..I'm not gonna stop until you're a quaking mess" he whispers hotly near your ears nibbling on it as he sees his cum drip out of you; making his dick still hard enough to keep you up all night.
A full hand-on session of 'Technical Knockout' live; all by Nanami Kento for the love of his life
Link to masterlist!
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G🎸🥵🎀
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Golden boy
Words: 989
Rated: E
Tags: Post-Vecna; Established relationship; Scars; Trauma; Dom!Eddie; Sub;Steve; Collars; Leashes; Choking; Butt plugs; Edging; Kink negotiation; Stoplight system
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“Oh,” Eddie says, like he only just remembered. “I got you something from Indy.” 
Steve blinks sluggishly. He’s slipped into that pleasant, floaty headspace that he’s only ever able to find with Eddie. Everything is fuzzy around the edges, even the movie they’ve put on reduced to a dull drone in the background. He can't for the life of him remember which one it is. 
“Hm?” he murmurs - a barely there hum against Eddie’s skin, where his face is tugged into the crook of his neck. “Like a gift? ‘s not even my birthday.” 
“Oh,” Eddie chuckles, fingers tracing down the scars on Steve's back, coming to rest on the curve of his ass. “But what better way to spend that gig money than a present for my good boy? You've been good, haven't you, Stevie?” 
His hand slides between Steve’s ass cheeks and Steve gasps. 
“Yes. Yes, I've been good.” 
“Shhh, baby, I know you have,” Eddie coos, lightly flicking the base of the plug. Steve moans but doesn't buck, even though his naked cock is starting to strain against the fabric of Eddie’s jeans. “Wearing this for me, not touching yourself all week. You've been so, so good for me. And good boys get rewards, yeah?” 
He retrieves something from the sofa cushions and presses it into Steve’s hands. A flat, black box. It’s wrapped in a broad gold ribbon made of delicate tulle. It shimmers in the low light as Steve pulls open the knot, and for a second he's afraid it'll come apart under his touch. He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, dark and intense, as he lifts the lid off the box. 
Inside, nestled on a velvet pillow, is a collar. Soft, tan leather with a gold buckle and a little o-ring to match. Steve’s stomach drops right out of his body.
“I- … no,” he hears himself murmur. “No way, I'm not doing that.” 
He doesn't even realize he's been trying to scramble off Eddie’s lap before those calloused fingers are on his hips, steadying him with gentle pressure. Not enough to keep him from getting away, should he put his mind to it. Just a firm, grounding reminder that Eddie has got him, that he's safe. 
“Woah,” Eddie mutters. “Okay, I think we need a check-in. Color?” 
Steve swallows and feels his throat bop around the lump that has lodged itself in there.
“Yellow? Listen, I'm sorry, I know we talked about this and I said I thought I might like it, but-” 
“But the real thing is different from the thought?” Eddie's voice is a low, soothing murmur. His thumbs are massaging little circles into the skin over Steve’s hip bones. 
“Yeah,” Steve says. Licks his lips. His eyes flicker back to the collar. “No. I dunno, it's weird. I thought I could do it, but …” 
He trails off, fingers brushing absentmindedly over the scar on his neck. Eddie’s eyes follow the movement and Steve's stomach coils with embarrassment. He knows Eddie has been looking forward to this all week, at least as much as himself. Way to ruin the mood. 
“I'm sorry,” he says again. “I should be over it by now.” 
Eddie shakes his head, smile fond, and sets the box with the collar aside. “Nah, big boy. You'll be ready when you're ready. Doesn't matter if that's next month, or next year, or never at all. Okay?” 
Steve nods, breathless, speechless. Something soft blooms in his chest, settling warm and tight in his abdomen as Eddie pulls him in for a kiss. 
“What do you like about it?” 
“Huh?” Steve says. Eddie has pulled back just enough to speak. Steve can feel the shape of the words against his lips.
“If you wanted to try this, that means there must be something you like about the idea. Tell me what it is?” 
Steve wets his lips.
“I, um … I like the idea of being yours, I guess. Of you putting something on me to remind me of that. To remind me you're in control.”
“I see,” Eddie hums. And then his fingers wrap around Steve's throat, a barely there pressure against his pulse, and Steve freezes. “So, how's this, color-wise?” 
“Green,” Steve gasps. His hips start rolling of their own accord, flushed cock grinding into Eddie’s lap. “So very fucking green. Eddie, please-” 
Eddie uses the hand against his throat to guide him into another kiss. Holds him in place while he takes his sweet time coaxing Steve’s lips apart, fucking his tongue into his mouth with slow, languid motions. It takes a long while until he allows them to part for breath, and even longer for Steve’s vision to swim back into focus. 
When it does, Eddie's hand is no longer on his throat. Instead, it's dangling the golden tulle ribbon between them, light and transparent as air. 
“Green,” Steve is whispering before he even knows he's made the decision. “Green, green, green. Fuck, Eddie, please!” 
The fabric feels cool and ticklish as it settles against his skin, and he knows that one sudden move would be all it takes to free himself. Also knows he’d never want to break free. Not when Eddie’s eyes are full of that burning adoration, not when it feels so good, being at his mercy.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. He lets the long ends of the ribbon rest in his hand, like a leash. “You look amazing in gold.”
“Y-yeah?” Steve asks. He feels dizzy - drunk in the best possible way. He's naked and collared and completely in Eddie’s control, and he never wants to be anywhere else. 
“Oh yeah,” Eddie agrees. “But you know where you'd look even better?” 
He tugs on the makeshift leash, smile turning sharp when Steve moans in response. 
“On your knees between my legs, hands behind your back.” 
Oh, right. Turns out there is a place Steve would like to be even better. 
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syoddeye · 13 hours
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sy's reading recs
hi. i read a lot of fanfiction for COD and i love spreadsheets. i try to track my reads, and thought i'd make two reading rec lists. you are currently viewing the non-darkfic list. i've included blurbs from yours truly. the blurbs are short because there are a LOT of recs below the cut. now then.
beyond the read more, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries.
pairings are indicated where applicable, although these may change or may not be established yet.
similarly fic ratings may change! again, it's your responsibility to read tags and warnings.
i've checked all the links, but if they're broken, i blame tumblr. there's enough info to find the fic if need be.
do not harass authors with "next part when" bullshit. it's tacky and i hate you.
previous lists: one, two | banner by @/cafekitsune
gaz x reader
Lavender Skies by @yeyinde
Late to the party but gd if you haven't read this, put it at the top of your list. Kebabs, back-up shoes, the feeling of someone knowing you, the pain and sublimity of being in your late 20s...Chef's kiss.
childfree!reader thoughts by @pfhwrittes
Tooth-rottingly sweet bit about finding someone with the same priorities and not being made to feel bad about it. Love it when the boys match-make a lil bit.
The Gym by @secretsynthetic
Very cute piece about meeting trainer!Gaz at a workout class. Kudos to Reader for making it through the class because I would've had to bail if Gaz perceived me for half a second. Love how observant and sweet he is in this.
Pluto by @groguspicklejar
Late to yet another party, but I got sucked in by the premise: 'vampire!Gaz is smitten with a girl who has no desire to be around his kind'. I love how the relationship progresses, the later chapters had me gigglin'. Except for that last chap. I got GOT.
ghost x reader
child free @391780
I tag it from time to time but one of my favorite things to see in fanfic is the love and intimacy of caring for someone. And that's what this is. Among my favorite oneshots I've seen shared in this fandom.
Roommate Simon by @tacticalgirlboss
Roommate Simon could go in so many directions, but I love this particular take. The slow evolution of the relationship from roommate to something else. Made me feel mushy as hell by the end.
Through Me (The Flood) by @peachesofteal
Another drop everything to read fic. Seeing Simon embrace a role he was not expecting to ever fulfill is both heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. Me with every installment.
soap x reader
mic work by @glossysoap
I have four words for you: Erotic audio artist Soap. Soap's hard at work (🥁), imagining best friend!Reader as the subject of his latest scripts. He is COMMITTED to his job. submissive Soap by @doeidawn
Dizzying. Schedule time to take a lap after reader. Something about that man begging. It needs to be studied and somehow distilled. Into what? I don't know, don't ask me, I can't think straight after re-reading this. bad reservation by @the-californicationist
I think I summed up my reaction to this in my tags: "reader's getting that michelin star dick". A prompt filled by Cali that made me giggle furiously for a smooth ten minutes after reading.
price x reader
Storm Chaser by @/the-californicationist
Save me, biker!Price...save me... Caution: You may need to lie down after reading. Truthfully, I'm terrified of motorcycles. But I would reconsider for this Price.
A Case of You by @alittleposhtoad
One of my favorite new series. A zombie apocalypse where you're hiding out on a remote island in Canada, and who finds you? Just my favorite man. Really enjoy the pieces of worldbuilding and seeing Price interact with what's left of Reader's community.
Words Like Violence by @deadbranch
BodyguardxBodyguard. Two professionals wanting one another and their jobs kind of getting in the way. Suits. Gear. Gloves. Pure catnip. An appearance from Simon that made me laugh, re-read, then rub my hands together like a raccoon.
141 x reader and other pairings
GhostGaz Week by @dragonnarrative-writes - gaz x ghost
Dragon knocked it out of the park on GhostGaz week. I love all of them, but 'afraid of the dark' and 'sweet talk' are two of my favorites.
An Offer You Won't Refuse by @lovifie - gaz x price
You know that clip of Kylo Ren screaming more? That's me, because this makes me want more GazPrice in my life. Delectable. Mean!Price and Gaz calling in a victory.
SCP!141 by @ghouljams - gen tf 141
Incredibly fun and freaky AU that I think has half of my lil circle of friends on here willing to overlook their personal safety to get at SCP-141....I may or may not be among them.
Fancy by @swordsandholly - 141 x reader
Subtle delicious morsels of worldbuilding and bleak, dystopian vibes with vampires. That should be enough to get you started. Had me at the Reba reference.
Tradie 141 by @/pfhwrittes - mix
The way I would be quickly banned from any worksite if they were real. The Tradie!verse is very, very important to me and I eat up every piece that comes out of P's big brain.
Autumn Embers by @/dragonnarrative-writes - 141 x reader
One of the most nuanced takes on the omegaverse paired with some of the hottest smut. The meta is a good place to start, imho, as it underpins the fic and bolsters the plot.
Mission Shenanigans by @kyletogaz - gazsoap x reader
Here's a taste: “You’ve got your tongue shoved in my pussy and you expect for me to be quiet?” Got it? Scurry on over for the oneshot that made me bluescreen at the end.
Service Dog Johnny by @void-my-warranty - ghoap x reader
Interesting spin on Ghoap x Reader that shows a level of intimacy between Simon x Reader (and by extension, Ghoap x Reader), that goes beyond the sex. Yes, the smut is fantastic, but the relationship dynamic hooked me.
Cool Girl x @/peachesofteal - ghoap x reader
As a former 'Cool Girl', reading this is both therapeutic and painful, and fuck me if I don't run to read every update. You will cry, laugh, tear your hair out, and enjoy it.
Fuck-ass mohawk by @sentientcave - ghoap x reader
Reader finally saying what I'm thinking. Fuck-ass mohawk. Hilarious piece. I definitely didn't finish this and think "oh dang I want Reader to be mean to ME". 👀
"romance" in the age of technology by @/pfhwrittes - soap x gaz
Let it be known that Johnny MacTavish is a giver. A good friend. So thoughtful of others. So while Gaz recovers from top surgery, obviously our Scottish saint takes it upon himself (literally?) to cheer him up. Funny and WHEW.
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Note
Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.
As A Dog
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
Word Count: 7,085
Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.
Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.
I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!
Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.
He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.
Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.
"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.
He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.
"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"
She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.
He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.
That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.
The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.
His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.
"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.
Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.
"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.
"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.
The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.
"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.
"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.
His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.
"Leave him. He'll be fine."
"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.
"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.
"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.
She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.
"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.
"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.
"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.
"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."
That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.
Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.
True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.
What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.
When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.
It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.
It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.
The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.
"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."
"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.
"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"
He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.
"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.
The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.
She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.
When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.
For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.
By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.
But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...
And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.
She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.
"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.
He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.
"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.
He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.
"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."
When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.
She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.
"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.
Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.
"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"
He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.
A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.
There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.
Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.
She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.
When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.
Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..
He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.
"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.
Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.
"Prove it."
She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.
"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.
Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.
By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.
It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.
Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.
"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."
His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.
She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.
In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.
The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.
He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.
"Take that shit off."
Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.
"Suck me." he growled.
While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.
The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.
Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.
"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."
She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.
He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.
It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.
He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.
"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.
The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.
Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.
What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.
He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.
On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.
He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.
"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.
This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.
"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.
Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.
"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.
Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.
Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.
She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.
"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.
As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.
He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.
For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.
Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.
Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.
He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.
Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.
He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.
If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.
His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.
"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.
"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."
"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.
"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."
She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.
"Good girl." he murmured.
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ianthoni · 2 days
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Listen, Anthony's IG stories be about unconditional love and whatnot. I don't give a flying rats ass, they're about Ian 😎
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LISTEN whenever i share my thoughts ppl call me crazy. But hear me out. I'm running an update account (@ian-anthonyupdates ) and im following his stories since december. And i believe all his stories about destiny/finding the true love/unconditional love/universe/sun-moon coded, fire and water coded stories are about Ian. And i have a ten pics limit so im gonna show a little bit whats in my head. (Check spirituality/lover boy tags in my updates profile you're gonna see what i mean i think half of them are related to Ian if not most) (the unconditional love videos he share is gonna be last)
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Starting from his art pieces and their connection to Ian. This post was shared on the night of eclipse. For you guys to fully understand this whole interaction i need to start from the beginning of the day. Ian shared he watched the eclipse that day. He sharing a meme and a shadow of the eclipse (I'm gonna explain more in the next part) and then Anthony shared the red painting you can see at the back. Around the same time. That was Ian's FIRST ever comment in Anthony's painting account. He also followed Anthony's painting page and said 'this one was my favorite one so far'. And that night Anthony shared this heart, with the painting Ian liked at the back. Heart with an eye in it. Now eye is a keyword for us remember that it's gonna come up later in this essay lmao also noticed the tray in the table? Yeah it is coming in now.
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Now here is the part tray comes in. That first tray is Anthony's tray. We can see it on the story he shared from the same day. And the eclipse story is Ian's story, he was watching the eclipse. Did you notice something? It is Anthony's tray, theyre watching the eclipse together. Now you may say that tray didnt come out in the factory as one piece. But remember it is from the same day. And its up to you if you believe it or not im just giving my observation. And remember this is the same day he liked Anthony's painting and followed his account. It is very very possible that they were together and maybe he even watched Anthony while he is painting.
After that watching the eclipse story. Anthony made an eclipse painting. Very obviously the sun hugging the moon. I love sun and moon ianthony stories because Anthony himself said Ian is like the sun. And we all know the romantic meaning of moon and sun, how sun illuminates the moon, how moon is in love with the sun and always around it. So it fits them. And Anthony shared this painting a few times after he did it which he was not doing that at the time. Like he wanted someone to see it and like it, comment on it like he did before with the red painting. But it didnt happen sadly :/ (this also might be the reason of instagram drama but im not opening that can of worms)
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Now the EYES. Anthony and his obsession with blue eyes. This is definitely coming from looong before (i.e all his past gfs being blue eyed) but you know who's the first blue eye he met? Yeah you guessed it right. Ian. It doesnt even have to be love, but i think ian's eyes was always a safe place to him, something warm and remind him home and makes him feel happy cause Ian makes him happy. And he always complimented ian's eyes, how theyre beautiful and whenever Ian wears blue he always mention it, he even said "your eyes are out of this word" in Jared Leto live stream. So he loves blue eyes of a special person. And if you noticed before he loves drawing them too, either just blue pupils or full blue eyes but there's a couple of them. I'm specifically sharing this one cause he put a secret message in this. "I see the universe in your eyes" he shared lots of stuff about universe and destiny and love. And talked about him and Ian meeting again was universes job/ destiny. So i think he is associating Ian with the destiny/universe/galaxies stuff. NOW whats MORE interesting is Ian shared that story 7 hours after Anthony shared his painting... Interesting right. Oh btw Anthony always share his painting steps but he didnt share the i see the universe in your eyes. Like its a secret message just for one person to get it. And that person get it and send his own message back.
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To accompany the eclipse painting, he used two songs, one that talked about a "longing" and another that was called Bliss and was the same piece that was playing in another story he shared that was about "consciousness observing the feeling of falling in love". (Which makes the romantic connotation of the eclipse painting undeniable). To make it even more interesting the same day he posted that eclipse painting he posted a picture of himself in lan's office, under a tapestry depicting a sun.
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Ok this is getting SO LONG. But stay with me. The first one the hug. I shared that the hug looks exactly like their hugs. This is not obviously just that. The caption is more important. "Our differences makes us complete. Anthony talked about Ian and him being opposites in multiple videos till now. They're like water and fire, sun and moon, yin and yang. But this doesnt change the fact that they always find each other. If anything they're so happy with it now. They're getting along more than before.
Well do i have to say anything? Friendship always wins.
Again water and fire hugging allegory. I love that he's thinking of each other like that. He also make comments about Ian bringing the fire, also the fact that he's sun literally fire ball. Ian's favorite movie rrr had water/sun allegory. So it is obv to me he thinks of them when it's about opposites falling. Oh and he also have a "in order to live life we need fire" tattoo.
This one is so funny cause i didnt get it until they talk in the live stream. He talked about how he saw Ian going for a walk and he said can I join you too? And ofc Ian said yes and they went for a walk around together. He literally shared this the day Ian and him go for a walk together 😭 he said life is pretty good actually after spending time with Ian is so🥺
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This was also from the same day he went on a walk with Ian. I think it fits. Watch hot tub live stream for the full walk story.
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This was the day after they spend time together, going for a walk, shooting day. He missed someone.
Tbh this is pretty self explanatory too. He did see Ian as coming home, a safe place, like turning back home after a Kong tiring day, just like he did with meeting with Ian again and glowing with him each passing day.
Well Ian is pretty LMAO and i don't see he's posting this about someone new. Like idk 🤷🏻
Again the unconditional love theme. He share a lot of stuff about this actually. I think it fits them. He loves Ian without a reason.
People think the first one is about someone new. Cause of the way it says "and then one day someone walks into your life" like someone walks into his life just now. But i see this as him remembering their first meet. How Ian walked into his life that very day in 6th grade and how he changed his life completely. Anthony is so talented don't get me wrong but if they're smosh now, if he is Anthony Padilla™ now its because of Ian. Ian was with him from the very beginning. He was helping him, encouraging him, supporting him when he was a shy lil teen in front of the camera. I think Ian is the one that walking in his life and completely changing it in the best way possible.
Unconditional love, a theme he is posting about very occasionly. Since we're that deep and ppl already call me delulu im just gonna write what i write to friends when i see his unconditional love stories.
Unconditional love means he would love him without expecting anything in return. This doesn't mean there's no love returning back to him but means he would love him even if there wasn't. Even if Ian didn't hug him enough or kiss him enough or share him with the world the way he wants it. He'd still love him. Cause his love is unconditional. He doesn't need any of this. He still loves him without getting to shout out to the world.
He is meaning he would love him for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish. This is basically a wedding wow. It doesnt mean he thinks Ian wont make him laugh or he is not beautiful or hes poor, no he means even if he had nothing he'd still love him. Hence the unconditional. They loved each other when they were little boy's that have nothing and look like little gremlins. And i think its not gonna go away soon.
Oh also did you notice something? The very beginning of the video. Is basically the same as the ornament in Ian's room. With a bright and rising sun in it : )
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Ok bye love y'all 💖
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staytinyville · 1 day
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Burn It (Pt. 1)
↣ Summary: You were only a decoy for all those who wanted your family off the throne. The real leader was your horrible sister who ruled with fear in their subjects. You only did what was told of you and if others came to assassinate you then so be it. 
↣ Characters/Pairing: Eventual!Min Yoongi x Reader, Slight Namjoon x Reader,
↣ Genre: Historical, Mature
↣ AU/Trope info: Historical!au, Queen!Reader, Rebel!Yoongi, 
↣ Word Count: 6.1k
↣ Warnings: Abuse, Toxic household, 
↣ A/N: Honestly I always get inspired by all the historical stories on here and I just really wanted to sit my ass down to write. Part two might just have smut y’all so tell me if you want lmao. Also can you please tell me what you guys think of my writing? I don’t know I want to publish sometime soon but like if I suck at writing why bother.
Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist
↣ Affiliates: @k-labels , @k-vanity
↣ Special Tags: @anyamaris , @kpop-stories-21
↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!
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You usually slept on your back, worried about the day someone came into your room to do something. It was all you ever thought about the moment you were told why your parents truly made you the queen. 
You weren’t a light sleeper by any means, so you knew the moment someone stepped into your room something was going to happen. It wasn’t one of your guards who would announce their presence or even your family who you knew the staff would call out to you the moment they slammed the door open. 
You didn’t dare to move. Not when you could hear their steps in the room that were clearly trying to be quiet. Anyone who wasn’t trained to listen in to their surroundings were bound to be caught off guard by whoever it was. However after spending the last few years in fear of being killed in your sleep you taught yourself to pick up on the smallest of things.
You felt them reach the side of your bed, but still you didn’t move. You took in a deep breath, waiting for them to strike. When you made to move your body just the tiniest of bits, your eyes flew wide open at the person who suddenly had you pinned to your bed–a sharp blade placed against your throat. 
You swallowed softly, looking up into the face of your assassin. The light from outside the room was barely enough, but you could make out the scar that ran along the right side of his face. His cheeks that look round. The band that was tied against his forehead. The blonde hair that was neatly wrapped in a bun.
You didn’t make a sound though, only allowing your eyes to follow along his face. You could tell that after a moment, he began to grow confused, his eyebrows pulling together and head tilting to the side. 
You made no show of trying to fight him off. You didn’t even breathe harshly. Instead he watched as your eyes scanned over his face, eyes glittering in the moonlight that showed through the curtains. It left him baffled as you kept an even expression to it all.
“Why aren't you terrified?” He asked, clenching the blade’s handle. 
“There are things more terrifying than death.” You whispered, catching his attention.
There was a sad expression behind your eyes. He could see it hidden behind your facade. He almost faltered when he came to the realization that you were waiting for him to move the knife. But his resolve came back, quickly shaking his head to clear it.
“Then you should be thankful.” He sneered. 
He pressed the knife deep just barely breaking the skin. But he stopped completely when all you did was fall limply and close your eyes. His breath got caught in his throat, feeling conflicted over the way you were acting. 
He was told about how much of a tyrant the queen was. How she would strike at anyone who dared to even breathe in her direction. She was cruel and followed in her parents footsteps of ruling the kingdom with fear. Those who worked in the castle that were part of the rebellion had all said she was an emotionless person who didn’t even bother to look at when someone was being punished, not bothering to spare them her time. 
She was a menace, someone who didn’t deserve to be on the throne. But yet, here she was under his grip awaiting death to come to her without so much as a fight. She was hiding things behind her eyes that would be released come death. But Yoongi didn’t feel it in his heart to kill someone like that. Someone who was willing to give up their life for something haunting them.
He couldn’t stand to see others that way. Not when he had been there before. 
You felt the blade lose its pressure, opening your eyes to look at him once again. “What are you doing?” You asked.
“Are you questioning me when I have a knife to your neck?” He sneered, pressing the knife back to you.
“I thought you were going to—”
“Quiet.” He growled, slamming a fist into the pillow next to you. 
“Why aren't you calling for help?” He asked, moving to hover above you, his knife next to your head. 
“Who will be there to help me?” You whispered once more in that sad voice. 
“Your grace!” Someone called from outside of your bedroom. 
The man’s head snapped to the direction of the door, hearing the handles begin to twist to signal someone was going to come in. The assassin was quick to jump off the bed and out into the night without so much as a second in between. You rushed out of your bedspread, not caring about being in your nightgown. All you cared about was getting to stop the man. 
“Wait—”
You froze at the bottom of the steps that lead outside, catching as he turned around to face you under a lamp post. You could finally see his face in its entirety. The scar ran along his eye and down to his cheek. You were still as his face seemed to burn itself into your memory. You wanted to call out for him, ask him what he was doing. 
But there was something stopping you. The way he looked at you like he was torn. It was gone in a flash just as he was following the calling of your name from your bedroom. 
“(Y/N)?” You turned to find your personal guard looking around the room for you. “What are you doing outside?” He asked, walking up to you.
“Couldn't sleep.” You spoke softly. 
“What brings you by?” You asked the man, turning to face him. 
“I heard a man's voice. It was hostile.” He looked around the room just to make sure, moving things around that created dark spots.
“You have sharp hearing, Namjoon.” You smiled softly. 
“Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.” You walked closer to him, causing him to look at you. 
You watched as his eyes went wide, hand reaching out to touch your neck. 
“You’re bleeding.” He wiped his thumb along the miniscule cut the man’s knife had left. 
You moved to wipe at it yourself, coming with bloody fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing to yourself. 
“I probably just scratched myself in my sleep.” You told him.
Namjoon was perceptive, but he wasn’t going to question it because he knew you. No matter how much he wanted to care for you when you got hurt, you were someone who kept to themselves. You weren’t going to allow others to know your pain. 
“I’ll clean it for you.” He said. 
You allowed the man to do as he pleased. You suddenly felt much too tired to allow yourself the time to clean up the wound. Besides, you always enjoyed your moments with Namjoon. He had been there since you became the so-called queen. He watched them put the crown on your head. Watched with a harsh breath and flare nostrils as he knew the truth behind it all. 
The only one who did. 
As you felt is large hands press softly into the skin of your neck you almost wanted to flinch at how easy it was for him to actually kill you. There will always be people out there much more skilled than you ever could be. Much more powerful. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you thought about it. You felt useless–like you life was miniscule. And it was in the eyes of your family. You didn’t realize a tear fell down your cheek until Namjoon moved to wipe at it. 
“Are you truly okay, my queen?”
Namjoon’s acknowledgment of your title had you squaring your shoulders, looking at the man with a small smile on your face. 
He was right. You were the queen–the one everyone called her majesty or bowed their heads to when you walked. It wasn’t your parents–your sister who walked with a smaller crown. It was you. Even if your family was the one who told you what to do in the end–you were the one who the kingdom saw as its queen. And you knew it was time to step into that role.
**
The time that passed was a long one. New bruises and wounds turned up on your body–hidden behind the hanbok you would wear. They would never dare to strike you across the face, not when the entire kingdom could see. They had images to keep up and people to boss around. It was their kingdom but you were the one they hated. 
You still walked with your head held high, nose turned up as you tried to remain emotionless. You had learned to perfect the look with all the eyes that followed you everywhere. You didn’t dare to showcase any kind of emotion. You knew if you did they would see it. And they didn’t want their subjects to know the queen was being ruled by fear. 
“Choosing a warrior for the princess is a perfect way of having her protected.” Your father’s general walked alongside the both of you. 
“Here are the fine gentlemen who decided to take up the mantle. It gives the common people a chance as well to be part of the royal court.” He explained looking over the men he had watched train to be the best warriors they could be. 
There were a total of 50 young and older men all standing in rows with hands behind their backs and legs spread to shoulder length. You didn’t bother to look at them because you knew that your family had already chosen you. 
“Thank you, general.” Your father smiled brightly. “We would only want the best for our daughter.”
He turned to you, the grin on his lips making your stomach turn as you tried not to sneer. Your eyes immediately dropped from his face, turning around as you finally began to scan the warriors who suddenly raised their heads at your discretion. 
“Your grace, please be sure to choose wisely. Munhee is your twin sister–she deserves to be protected just as much as you.” He offered in a sickenly sweet tone. 
“Of course, father.” You spoke monotonously. 
You begin to walk through the men, only picking you head up to give them a glance but continuing forward. You could see some of them gulp in worry while others let out breaths from your monotonous look. You were only courteous, meeting some of their eyes in order to make them think you were actually picking on your own. 
You continued on through the rows, trying your best to act like your parents had told you to. But there was a second–just one second–where your facade dropped and you came to stand still. He stood in another row, a bit shorter than those next to him. But he still kept a stoic face–facing forward in the position the general had them all stand. 
He was to the right of you, giving you the opportunity to see the long scar that ran down his face. There was a flutter in your heart that was created by anxiety. But it was fear, it was an anticipation that would lead you to win. 
No one noticed the way you stopped to stare or the way you started to breath harshly. Namjoon had been the only one, eyes moving to scan the crowd as he tried to find what made you stop. Your father continued forward with the general speaking to himself as he thought you were walking alongside him. 
“I hear that Sooyoung is quite the—”
“Him.” You interrupted your father. 
“What?” He stopped, turning around to quickly find who you were looking at. “Who?” 
You moved with calculated steps towards him, but he didn’t move from his position. 
“The one with the scar?” Your father spoke bewildered, glancing between you and the man. “But your grace, you can't possibly want—”
“I'm positive he is more than capable of taking care of Munhee.” You didn’t dare to move your eyes from the man. “He looks like he's been through tough battles.”
“Oh well, I don't remember seeing him during training much.” The general frowned as he squinted his eyes at the scar on the man’s cheek. 
“He does seem to have a memorable enough face.” The  general tsked but moved to turn away and back to the front of the rows of men. “Step forward boy!” 
With one last look at him, you turned to Namjoon who was following closely behind you. You watched him take in a breath, eyes scanning the man over as his eyebrows pulled together. Your face remained emotionless, turning around while lifting your nose up. You could see your father sneering as he began to follow behind you. 
“State your name.” The general asked once all of you made it to the front. 
“Agust.” He spoke deeply.
“What an odd name.” Your father waved off.
“Sounds western.” The general nodded to himself. 
“Are you positive this is the one you will choose your grace?” Your father spoke up. 
You could see the fury behind his eyes, the one that was clearly telling you to back out of the problem you had placed them all in. But you looked at him the same way you always would, not daring to move your head from his stare. You felt Namjoon grow closer to your back, his warmth seeping into your clothes. You moved your hand from under your sleeve–a silent request to tell him everything was okay. 
“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. 
“Very well. The ceremony shall take place later this afternoon.” The general spoke up, humming to himself as he began to gather the other men. 
Yoongi watched as you didn’t give your father another look, walking away quickly with both your father and guard on your heels. Your robe billowed behind you as you fast walked, but he was quick to notice the way your father rushed up to you and caught our arm before the doors to the palace shut behind you all. 
“(Y/N), what is the meaning of this?” Your father sneered, gripping onto your arm tightly. “We decided already who would be the royal guard.”
“I'm sorry—” You flinched, unnoticed by the way you spoke with no emotions. 
Your lips turned downwards, a sneer waiting to overtake your face at the way your father was clutching tightly onto your wrist–enough to know it would be bruised in a little bit. Your hands clenched up, nails wanting to scratch at his arm for hurting you. But it wasn’t the right time.
“We will talk later.” With one last tight squeeze your father threw your arm from his grasp. 
It made you jerk backwards, teeth clenched as you were quick to soothe the ache. 
“Are you alright?” Namjoon walked closer to you, fingers lightly falling down your arm to take a look.
“Yes, I'm fine Namjoon.” You spoke, your emotionless voice causing him to straighten up.
As your gaze landed back on the closed doors the only thing that crossed your mind was the scar along that man’s cheek. There was no mistaking that mark–it was one that seemed to alter your way of thinking all together. You were brought back to the night that he held the knife to your neck. Made you bleed and a small barely noticeable scar being left behind. 
Your hand went up to your neck, feeling the uneven skin under your fingertips. 
“Namjoon, would you protect me if someone was to come and assassinate me?” You suddenly spoke up, looking towards the doors that lead to the courtyard. 
“What kind of question is that?” The man gasped, looking at your incredulously. “Of course I would—with my life.”
“Why?” You said absent mindlessly. 
“Because I am your royal guard—”
“Did you know there are people trying to kill the queen?” You stopped him, turning to face him completely. 
He gulped, watching as you grew closer to him. “Isn't there always? But that won't stop me from protecting you.”
“It's a rebellion, isn't it? People wanting to kill me.” You quietly spoke, watching as his eyes scanned over your face before falling to your neck where he could see the scar. 
His breathing began to grow rapidly, as he tried to come up with an answer. “They don't want to kill you—”
“So you know about it?”
“(Y/N), I swear I know nothing about it—” He began to sputter. 
“Namjoon, you are the only person I can trust in this palace. The only one who knows the truth. And now I want you to be honest with me. As your queen, I demand you tell me the truth.” You demanded. 
He suddenly stood up straight, taking in a deep breath. “Yes, your grace. There is a rebellion that is out to kill the queen. But it's not you they are after, it's Munhee. At least the one they're really after is Munhee.” 
There was something that seemed to lift off your shoulder hearing those words. It didn’t make you feel any better however it did make you understand that there were plans that needed to be put into motion. Plans that you were going to accomplish with certain people on your side. 
“(Y/N), did something happen?” He asked.
“That man.” You spoke up. “The one I placed as Munhee’s guard. You know him. I saw it in your face when I chose him.” 
He watched as your nose twitched and your eyes went glassy. “Namjoon, are you part of the rebellion?” 
“Never!” Namjoon shouted, taking a step closer to you. “I could never do you harm or wish for something as cruel as that to come to you. You mean everything to me. I will stop at nothing to protect you from those who wish you harm.”
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment at his confession. His eyes expressed just how much he meant every word. Namjoon was the one person who had been with you since you were a girl hiding in corners from the abuse you would suffer at the hands of your family. He has seen you at your worst. Which means you had to be better for him. 
“Then how do you know him?” You asked. 
“I don’t personally know him. I’ve only ever seen him around the kingdom a couple of times.” Namjoon licked his lips, answering truthfully. 
He paused for a moment, pressing his lips together. “However, there could be someone who might.”
**
The ceremony wasn’t anything spectacular. Only the army was present and those of the palace staff. After the general proclaimed his speech to those around, he handed you a sword which you took in a tight grip walking forward towards Agust who kneeled at the stop of the stairs. 
“It is an honor to serve the royal family. As royal guard to the princess you shall take up the mantle as her protector.” You prattled off. 
“You shall put your life before hers to guarantee her safety. Do you accept this position?” You spoke loudly, keeping your eyes downcasted on the man who was kneeling in front of you. 
“Yes.” He spoke up, keeping his face down to the ground. 
“I hereby name you a royal guard to princess Munhee. May your sword always be sharp and your will always stay strong.” You ended, making him rise to grip onto the sword you were handing over to him. 
As he reached out for the sword that laid on your palms, your sleeve had moved down your arm, giving him full view of the darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on your wrist. He watched your hand suddenly clench onto the blade of the sword catching his attention and making him look up into your eyes. 
Your face still remained emotionless, but you made a small movement to get him to take the sword. He was quick to take it, bowing his head once more as he began to sheath the blade. Your hands fell to your side, causing the sleeve to fall over your wrist once more. 
There wasn’t much left of the ceremony other than you giving an emotionless speech about how you were grateful to the army for what they did. Once everything ended on a normal tone, the royal family turned around to enter the palace with the new royal guard in tow behind the entire entourage. 
“I can't believe this is the man you appointed!” Munhee screeched. “How stupid can you be!? Haven't you already done enough!?” 
She had been stomping her feet in front of you but quickly turned around to strike you across the face. Your face whipped to the side, not expecting the hit but you didn’t dare to make a sound or move a hand up to cradle your wound.
Yoongi watched with an emotionless face as you seemed to keep up the facade. Your guard was quick to step up to you, getting between you and the so-called princess. Yoongi glared at all of you, eyebrows pulling together at the debacle. 
“You insolent girl. You deserve everything that is coming your way.” She sneered at you.
“Munhee!” The old king sneered. “Do not strike her face!? How many times have we told you!?”
His eyebrows only seemed to pull together deeper, trying to figure out what the whole dynamic was between everyone. It seemed you only remained emotionless as your large guard took your arm softly. 
He didn’t understand what your place was in all of this. You were the queen who was above all of these people. And yet they seemed to take pleasure in screaming at you. You didn’t give any reaction to their words or actions–allowing them to do as they pleased. You were no queen after the whole thing. 
“Namjoon, take her to the healers quickly before she bruises.” Your father turned to your royal guard. “They have to fix it before she goes out in public.”
“Of course.” Namjoon spoke through a clenched jaw, softly pulling you along. 
You didn’t give Yoongi another look, keeping your head up as pieces of your hair fell out of your headpiece and into your face. He watched you leave before turning around as he heard the princess stomp closer to him. 
“Ugly, good for nothing.” The princess sneered, quickly turning from him. “Don't look at me. Your face belongs in a cell.”
The way she had her lips pulled up and nose scrunched up made her look ugly. It seemed she had done that face so much it stuck to her skin. It was clear she was your twin somehow but for some reason Yoongi found himself claiming your face was much easier to look at. 
“Forgive me.” Yoongi spoke monotonously. 
“What do we do with him?” Munhee didn’t pay him any mind, turning to her parents. 
“We'll have Namjoon teach him for now.” The old queen spoke carelessly. “Until we have a reason to get rid of him we can't do much. That would mean forsaking the general and his warriors.”
“Stupid traditions.” Munhee rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep him out of my sight. And give him a mask for when he is. I cannot stand to look at him.” She gave him one last sneer of her lips, stomping away with her parents in tow. 
“Of course.” Some guard for your parents announced. 
He began to walk away, so Yoongi assumed he was to follow after his superior. He was taken out of the back gardens and into another part of the palace. There were curtains that were billowing out of the room that gave it enough breeze. The guard takes Yoongi around the building towards the doors. 
“You may stay here for the time being.” The guard explained, opening the doors to a wide spacious room. 
“I will be sure to inform Namjoon of your whereabouts.” He bowed his head before turning to leave.
Yoongi had assumed he was left alone, watching with a raised brow as the guard seemed to walk away quickly. However when he suddenly felt a presence behind him, he was quick to turn. He watched as a stunning man seemed to tilt his head in confusion at the man. 
He was dressed in a translucent robe that draped down his body. He wore expensive looking jewelry and was cleaned much better than even the royal family themselves. Yoongi could smell the perfumes the man wore from where he stood a good three feet away. 
“New concubine? But no one said anything about it.” He spoke with a deep voice, but his eyes held childish wonder. 
“Concubine?” Yoongi questioned.
“Are you not one?” The man asked, stepping closer to the scarred one. “Isn't that why they brought you here?”
“I was appointed as royal guard to the princess.” Yoongi immediately answered, keeping his stare on the handsome man. 
“Makes more sense.” The concubine nodded to himself, lips forming a perfect pout. “Princess Munhee would never choose you.”
Yoongi suddenly frowned, giving the man an offended look.
“Taehyung, don't be rude.” Someone behind Yoongi spoke up. 
He quickly turned around finding another man dressed the same as the one in front of him. However, this one seemed to have puffier cheeks and shorter in structure. He also carried himself more sensually–confident in what he looked like. 
“I still think you're very handsome.” He smiled softly at Yoongi. “My name is Jimin. This is Taehyung. We are concubines for Princess Munhee.”
Once more the assassin was left confused. Why weren’t they concubines for the queen herself? It wasn’t really known that the princess had some of her own. 
“The princess? Not the queen?” He spoke out loud.
“She doesn't have any.” Taehyung answered. 
“Well except for Jungkook but he's just for show. He says he's never been with her let alone her bedroom. He's still a lucky bastard though.  I wish I was (Y/N)'s concubine.” He pouted, crossing his arms in a childish manner. 
“You like the queen?” Yoongi asked baffled. 
“Like?” Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “I love her! She's so kind and patient. She always treats our wounds after we've been with Munhee. She gives us extra sweets when she comes to see us. Anyone would fall in love with her.” He sighed dreamily.
Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear all that was falling from the poor man’s mouth. He only saw someone who had been brainwashed into thinking the queen was someone kind and nurturing. It did leave him a bit baffled to remember that it was the queen who had been striked across the face by the princess but that didn’t mean her emotionless heart wasn’t real. It was clear by the way she didn't react to the way she was treated. 
“She is a tyrant. How can you stand to live here as concubines? You don't get to see your family and as you said, you get wounds from the princess—”
“Exactly. From the princess.” Jimin interrupted, coming to stand in front of Yoongi. 
Jimin looked at him with squinted eyes that made him look seductive. But his words made it seem like Jimin was waiting for Yoongi to figure everything out. “There are things within the palace that are not correct. You'll find that out soon enough.” He told the man vaguely. 
The door suddenly open and all three men turned to look at who had entered. Taehyung beamed at Namjoon who gave the two concubines a bow of his head. Jimin only gave the man a small smile twirling around to go back to whatever it was he was doing before Yoongi had entered. 
“Agust, please follow me.” Namjoon called for him.  
Yoongi gave the two concubines one last look before following after the larger man. He began to lead him back to the main building, Yoongi trying to memorize the journey. 
“My name is Kim Namjoon—you can call me Namjoon. I am the royal guard to queen (Y/N). We will be working together closely.” He explained. 
Yoongi paused for a moment, clenching his jaw as he thought about the woman. “The queen—what did they do?”
“They gave her a cold patch.”
He lead Yoongi to another section of the palace that seemed to be full of different kinds of staff. It was close to the rooms of the royal families so Yoongi only assumed it was the building he would be staying in. 
“This is where we stay. We share a room along with the other royal guards.” It was a quick thing before Namjoon took off once more from the guard quarters.  
As Yoongi was looking around, trying to find escape routes or hiding places he didn’t notice Namjoon had come to a stop causing him to bump into the man. 
“What are you doing here? Do you know the risks of getting caught? You should leave before something happens to both you and the queen.” Namjoon quickly spoke, causing Yoongi to look at him oddly. 
Namjoon had a stern expression on his face but he didn’t care to reach out to kill the smaller man. It was clear that Namjoon knew who Yoongi was the moment he came into the palace. Namjoon was someone often spoken about within the group. One of the people who worked within the palace had explained that Namjoon would do anything to protect the queen from harm. 
However he also said that Namjoon would be more than willing to be on their side. It left him at a confused headspace over the bigger man. 
“I know that more than anything what will happen. I have a mission to complete. I can’t go back without results.” Yoongi spoke harshly. 
“For what? A murder that is unjustified?” Namjoon glared. 
“You know as well as everyone else just how justified it really is.” Yoongi retorted.
“I know you’re out to kill the wrong person. If you think you were the only one thinking about infiltrating the palace, you would be wrong.” Namjoon has his arms crossed, trying to make himself look bigger to intimidate the scarred man. 
“Namjoon?” A soft voice spoke up behind them. 
“I’m here, your grace.” Namjoon turned around to face you, watching as you walked closer to them with smaller robes that were easier to walk in. 
“Hello. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You spoke up calmly, staring Yoongi down. 
“Cut the small talk. Why did you choose me?” Yoongi sneered, knowing the three of you were alone from others to keep from saying what he wanted. 
Namjoon glared, about to take a step towards him but you subtly moved your hand out to keep him from getting closer. 
“Did you not want to be chosen? Isn’t that why you infiltrated the army and applied to be the personal guard for Princess Munhee?” You questioned him.
“Why did you select me?” Yoongi pressed again.
You took a moment, irking him as you looked down at him. 
“I don’t know.” You merely shrugged.
“I can kill you right now.” He placed a hand on the sword you had given him, causing Namjoon to reach for his own.
You stopped them though when you walked closer to Yoongi. “You can but it won’t solve your problems.”
“It will solve many.” He sneered. 
“That’s what you think.” You told him.
He felt something in his chest watching you. He knew it was you, knew by the little scar that was under your head from the knick his blade had left months ago. Knew by the way you softly stared at him waiting for his next moves.
However you were different now. Different in the way you spoke—the way you held yourself. It was nighttime then though, he has never seen you before. But speaking with you now it wasn’t the same as the woman who was awaiting death with open arms.
“Where is she?” Yoongi asked. 
“Who?”
“The girl who waited for me to move my blade. The one who was hoping I would.” He spoke quietly, keeping you stare.
“I found a better chance.” You told him, speaking in that voice that told him how there were worse things to fear other than death. 
“One that lets me live the way I want. My personal guard will make sure to tell you of your duties. Do not mess it up.” You added sternly.
You turned around, Namjoon giving Yoongi one last harsh stare before turning to follow after you.
** 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Namjoon asks you.
“I have suffered my whole life just for others to come and kill me in place of my sister.” You spoke softly looking down at the paper you had been writing on. “I’m done being the decoy they know they need. The plaything they would have their fun with when they were angry.”
You looked up when knocking comes from the door. “I was made the queen. And as far as the kingdom knows I am the Empress who rules. So that is what I will be.”
The double doors open wide as Yoongi struts his way in. Namjoon stands behind you with his hands clasped in front of him. He glanced your way, taking note of how you don’t bother to look up at him. From what the other concubines have claimed of you, Yoongi has yet to see it. 
“Sit.” You tell him, going back to writing a letter. 
He listens to your demand, sitting cross legged in front of your table as he waits for you to say something. It takes another 10 minutes before you do. By then Yoongi had a frown on his face from having wasted time sitting in front you, waiting.
“I have something to ask of you.” You told him.
When all you got was a raised brow, you continued. “I need you to take this to your leader.” You rolled up your letter and pushed it forward towards Yoongi.
“Leader?” He questioned.
“Don’t take me for a fool.” You clenched your jaw. “Someone sent you to kill me. And now I want to send them a letter.”
“Are you mad?” Yoongi scoffed.
“Not always.” You shrugged. “But you get tired after so much.” 
There it was again—the jab at your past. The jab in Yoongi’s chest that made him rethink about killing you. It was the suffering he heard in your voice. The one that didn’t care about what happened to them because they had already been through so much. 
“I don’t get it.” Yoongi told you. 
“Don’t get what?” You questioned.
“This!?” He says pointing to the letter you wanted him to send to his leader “Everything around the place. I came here knowing one thing but come to learn it’s not right.” 
“Information can get lost in translation.” You waved him off.
There was so much he didn’t understand. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with those in the group about the whole thing because he had been training with the army for the past couple of months. All he knew was that the queen was a tyrant who treated the people of her kingdom unfairly. 
But now he wanted to know if he was looking at the right person. 
“Tell me something.” Yoongi demanded.
“What is that?” You asked him.
“That a queen would allow someone beneath her to strike her.” He told you.
“What makes you think I’m not?” You asked him. 
“Not what?”
“Beneath them?” You take a deep breath thinking over something. “At least in their eyes.” 
This made him stop for moment. After witnessing the actions of her family Yoongi came to realize there were things wrong with the royal family. And after hearing the words of those who worked closely with them it was clear that the choice he made of sparing you was one that left his conscious free of guilt. 
“Are you trusting me?” He questioned you, realizing that you were about to tell him the truth.
“You’re going to find out sooner or later. In case you haven’t—I’m not the real queen. I’m only the one who takes the harsh blows of the tyranny my family causes. I’m just their scapegoat.” You explained. 
“If you do your job right there should be no consequences. You have my word.” You told him.
“Which job?” He questioned. 
“You should know which one, Min Yoongi.”
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Pt. 2 Y’all? Be sure to apply to my permenant taglist so you can be added to Pt. 2 if I come out with it lol.
Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst , @cryingpages , @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @kenzie203 , @loveless-lie , @puppyminnnie , @marvel-potter-1d-korea , @emtrades22 , @wolfgurl2600-blog ,
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scoonsaliciousupdates · 12 hours
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8.1 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, death, nightmares.
Word Count: 1.8k
Previously On...: Sexy times ensued, you went back to the compound with Bucky.
A/N: I got nothing today, lol
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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The sun was an oppressive force, beating down mercilessly on Major and her unit as they trekked through the rocky outcrops. The air was thick and suffocating, making each breath a struggle in itself. Sweat poured down her face, stinging her eyes and soaking her clothes beneath the heavy body armor she wore. 
The weight of her gear – body armor, helmet, ammunition, weapons, and equipment – felt unbearable. Each piece pressed down on her body, making her feel trapped and weighed down, claustrophobic. Each step was painful– the metal elements of her gear, heated by the merciless sun, burned against her skin and the rough fabric of her uniform chafed, creating raw, painful spots where her gear rubbed against her body.
As Major moved beneath the blistering Afghanistan sun, she licked at her cracked lips, but her tongue was bone dry. Every muscle in her body was aching with fatigue, the oppressive heat sapping her energy. 
Her vision blurred, the combined effects of the heat and dehydration, and she blinked several times to clear her vision.
She looked back at the line of troops following her– the men and women who had volunteered for this mission, who were willing to put their already endangered lives at further risk to go behind enemy lines at her command. In the distance, she could still make out the sounds of battle around them: the distant gunfire, the low hum of helicopters, the crackling of radios.
Trying to ignore the pounding of her heart, Major paused to double-check her map and GPS before leading her unit through a narrow, rocky pass. The terrain was difficult and treacherous, and she needed to be careful of her footing. A slip or fall out here could mean putting the entire mission in jeopardy if they had to call for rescue. That was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.
This hadn’t been the only route to reach their objective; after careful consideration, Major had selected the shortcut for the time it would cut off from their overall mission. Her second in command, Sergeant Lee Daniels, had protested, warning that the area hadn’t been properly scouted, and therefore the unit couldn’t be sure what might await them within the pass. In the end, though, it had been Major’s call, and she was confident in her decision. 
“I trust you completely, Major,” Daniels had said to her before they began the mission. “If you’re convinced this is the right way to go, I’ll follow you.”
The unit had trekked their way through the rocky pass, guns at the ready and eyes constantly scanning the outcroppings for any signs of an enemy presence, but so far, all had been quiet. 
The silence was broken by a deafening explosion ripping through the air, and Major was thrown to the ground. She struggled to regain her senses, ears ringing and vision blurred by dust and smoke. She fought to quell the rising panic surging through her as she tried to visually assess the state of her team.
They had scattered– some wounded, others scrambling for cover through the haze of dust and debris filtering through the air.
Through the chaos, she could hear the sound of one of her men shouting “IED! We’re hit!”
Scrambling to her feet, Major felt her heart nearly pounding out of her chest with both fear and guilt. She was the one who had insisted on this path. She was the one who had dismissed Daniels’ earlier concerns about potential threats in the area. And now, as the dust began to settle, she spotted Daniels, lying on the ground, his body twisted and covered in blood. Somehow, through the madness, his eyes had managed to find hers, and he locked onto her gaze with pain and confusion
“Daniels!” Major screamed as she rushed to his side. She reached down, trying to apply pressure to his wounds, but her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She watched helplessly as blood began seeping through her fingers, staining the tips crimson. “I’m sorry, Daniels. I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, but her apologies were no use.
In his final moments, Daniels’ voice was weak, but still he managed to whisper, “It wasn’t your fault, Major. It happens…” His words hung in the air, hollow and meaningless to her. As she watched, the life drained from his eyes, and his hand went limp in hers.
The next thing Major knew, she was standing alone in a vast, empty desert, the silence oppressive. The sky darkened, and shadows stretched across the sand, morphing into the shape of a man. As the shadows solidified, Daniels' features appeared within them, his eyes filled with the same haunting look of pain… and betrayal.
“Why did you lead us here, Major?” his voice echoes, blending with the wind. “You knew the risks. Was my life really worth saving a few hours?”
Major tried to explain, to beg for Daniels’ forgiveness, but no words would come out. Her mouth moved silently, her throat constricted with grief and guilt. The shadows multiply, surrounding her with an infinite number of Daniels that close in around her, their faces accusing, their voices a chorus of anguish.
“You should have listened,” they chanted. “You should have protected us.”
The ground beneath Major began to crumble, and she felt herself sinking into the darkness. She reached out, desperate to hold onto something, anything, but her hands only grasped at empty air. She was falling, falling into an abyss of her own making, surrounded by the echoes of her mistakes and the faces of the one she couldn’t save.
You woke with a start, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat; the t-shirt of Bucky’s you’d gone to sleep in plastered to your skin. You put a hand to your chest– your heart was pounding so hard, it felt like it might burst from your ribcage. The darkness surrounding you felt suffocating, and as your eyes adjusted to it, you began to panic– this was not your room, and in your anxiety-fueled state, you were convinced you were still trapped in the abyss of your nightmare.
No, you reminded herself. You weren’t trapped in the abyss– you were in Bucky’s room. You were safe. You were someplace where the memory dream could no longer hurt you.
“Sugar?” You felt Bucky sit up next to you and slide his arms around your waist. “Are you alright?”
As the adrenaline pumping through your system began to fade, you were hit with an almost unbearable weight of embarrassment. “Yeah,” you croaked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep, Bucky.”
“Nuh uh,” he said, leaning over to flick on his bedside lamp, and you breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the receding dark. “I know what a nightmare looks like, doll. Have to say, I’m usually the one waking up screaming from ‘em, though.”
You turned your head to look over at him, and saw no recrimination or judgment in his eyes, simply understanding. “You get them, too?” you asked him, your voice small.
Bucky nodded and reached over to tuck a strand of hair away from your sweat-slicked forehead. “Used to get them every night, when I first got away from Hydra,” he confessed. “Sometimes, my body would wake up, but my mind would still be stuck in the dream. I’d get violent. Hurt myself. Punched Steve once when he had the bad idea of tryin’ to wake me up from one.”
You offered him a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “How’d you get them to stop?” you asked.
Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned back against the headboard, pulling you into him so that you were leaning against his chest. “They didn’t,” he admitted. “They’re not nearly so frequent now– maybe one every handful of months, but they’ve never gone away.”
“It’s been a while since I had one,” you told him. “I think… I think sleeping in a different place might have set me off.”
Bucky’s expression turned apologetic. “Oh, doll,” he began, “I’m so sorry– if I’d known, I never woulda insisted on you spending the night here. We coulda gone to your place–”
You shook your head, wanting to dispel him of any notion of guilt he might have. “No, no, Bucky. It’s not your fault. I wanted to spend the night here with you.” You sighed. “How… how’d you learn to deal with them, without letting them drive you crazy?”
Bucky chuckled as he ran his hand up and down your arm, and you could feel the vibrations of it through his chest and against your back. It made you feel warm and safe. “Lily was actually a big help with that,” he said. “She was staying at the Compound for a few weeks while renovations were being done on her house in town, and one night, she heard me havin’ a nightmare. She busted through the door and woke me outta it. Offered to stay with me til I fell back asleep. Some nights, I just couldn’t, so she’d stay up til dawn just talkin’ to me, gettin’ my mind off of it. I think it’s what helped us become such good friends,” he admitted. “She was there for me when everyone else thought I was crazy. Unstable. She made sure I wasn’t alone.”
You felt a twinge of… something at Bucky’s words. While you were glad he’d had someone with him, someone to help him through all of those horrible nights, you couldn’t help but feel envious of the intimacy it would have created between him and Lily, the way she had been there for him and the bond that had resulted because of it. Just acknowledging the thought made you disgusted with yourself.
“I’m thankful you had her,” you told him, choosing to focus on the positive component of his revelation instead of your negative emotions. “I imagine having someone to talk to about your nightmares helped take away some of their power.”
Bucky hummed behind you. “That’s a really good way of putting it, sugar, and I think you’re right.” He kissed your temple. “So, let me be that someone for you, yeah? Let me be the person you talk about your nightmares with, so we can take away their power over you.”
His offer made your chest ache with gratitude and affection. Here he was, offering to create that intimacy, that bond, with you. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’d like that. A lot.”
“We don’t have to start talking about them right now,” Bucky said. “Or even tonight. We’ll do it when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” you said, turning your head so you could nuzzle your cheek against his chest. “I don’t know that I’m ready to talk about it right this minute, but knowing that you’ll be there to listen? Well, it means a lot to me, Bucky.” “You mean a lot to me, Major,” he clarified. “And I want to spend as long as you’ll let me proving that to you.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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gravehags · 1 day
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hot to go
Pairing: cirrus x f!reader (ghoul bicycle reader)
Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI
Tags: dom cirrus, sweaty sex, strap riding, titty sucking, praise, possessiveness, lil bit of tenderness because i can't help myself
Words: 1,502
Summary: The air conditioning has broken in the den and your room is the hottest - because of course it is.
a/n: this came to me in a horny half-asleep vision and now i can't stop thinking about it, cheers to cirrus' enormous strap
~~~
Hey - you up?
It’s late, near midnight, and you’ve been in bed tossing and turning for hours now. The air conditioning in the den breaking in the middle of a heat wave makes you want to die and for some reason your room has the joy of being the hottest. You didn’t want to bug Cirrus or Cumulus tonight but…you need one of them. For more than one reason.
Yeah. What’s up?
Can I come over? I’m sweating my tits off in here
A couple minutes go by and you finally see the impending text bubble pop up.
Give me 5 and then head my way.
You want to cry with relief as you fling yourself up and out of your damp sheets. Your nightgown clings to you uncomfortably but that won’t be a problem anymore in just a little bit. The thought of curling up next to your own personal ice pack has your shoulders sagging and a chill running up your spine. You putter around sluggishly until you check the time and see that it’s been well over five minutes. The den is quiet as you tiptoe to Cirrus’ door - you knock lightly before opening it and scooting inside. The lighting is dim and when you catch sight of what’s before you you stop dead in your tracks with a gasp. Cirrus is there - splayed out in the middle of her bed wearing nothing but a thin cropped white tank top, a smirk, and the most enormous strap she owns - the one you’re convinced she had custom modeled after Mountain - secured snug on her hips.
“Hey,” she says, low and sultry. All of a sudden your nightgown is not the only thing that feels damp.
“H-hey,” you say, cautiously stepping closer and gesturing to her, “this for me?”
“Mmhmm,” she nods, bringing a hand down to lazily stroke along the cock’s thick ridges, “I know why you’re here, love. But you’ll have to do something for me first. Tit for tat.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you see her sharp eyes narrow in on it.
“Okay,” you say, the ache between your thighs insistent, “I’ll let you have your wicked way with me, I suppose.”
Cirrus chuckles and stretches luxuriantly like a cat.
“Oh, I won’t be doing anything, hon. You want it, you work for it. Now be a good girl and strip and come here.”
With an indignant huff, you peel your nightgown off, leaving yourself bare in the warm room. Cirrus lets out a little purr as you approach the foot of her bed and press your knee into the mattress.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” she says, crooking her finger at you. Obediently you crawl up her body and sit astride her lap, the silicone cock resting heavy against you.
“Closer,” she murmurs, so you scoot up a little further. All you want right now is to collapse against her, letting the chill of her skin seep into yours - but you know she won’t allow that.
“Wanna make sure you’re nice and ready for me, baby,” she says, cocking her head with a smile. “I’ll do you one favor - bring those pretty tits up here and I’ll take care of them for you.”
“Thank you,” you breathe, and you know your eagerness combined with your good manners pleases Cirrus. You slide closer and lean your chest down to her mouth for her to lazily lick a stripe across your right nipple. The sensation combined with the heat of her room and the coolness of her skin makes your hips buck against her and she smiles as she sucks your nipple into her mouth. For several minutes the only sounds in the room are your heavy breathing and her lapping at your breasts. You jolt when she gently closes her jaws on you, fangs biting into your swollen bud.
“Cirrus,” you pant, “n-need you.”
She pulls off you with a pop.
“I know baby,” she coos as you scoot down her body and rock against her strap, “go on then. You know what to do.”
With a thrill in your stomach you sit up on your knees and take the cock in hand, surprised by how wet you are when you press the tip against your entrance. Slowly - you always had to go slowly with this one but the results were well worth it - you lower yourself, shivering at the way it stretches you open. There’s a ridge resting snug against your clit and experimentally you rock against it.
“Such a good girl, I know how much you like this one,” Cirrus murmurs, arms resting above her head. Her breasts press against her shirt, nipples clearly visible through the thin material even in the dim light. The sight makes you hungry.
“Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you bounce on it.”
Exhaling heavily, you don’t need to be told twice as you raise your hips and ease back down. It takes you a moment to find your rhythm but soon enough you’re bobbing up and down, panting with your head thrown back.
“Fuck, Cir,” you whimper, your cunt clenching around her strap, “feels so good.”
“I know, baby. Pick up the pace now, I want to see those titties bounce. Put your back into it.”
She tilts her head and laughs quietly as you whine but still acquiesce, amused by how eagerly you bend for her. You can barely catch your breath in the suddenly oppressive heat, and your hips and thighs strain and burn. 
“Please, please, please,” you breathe, “please Cirrus.”
“You’re in control here, remember sweetheart? But if you beg prettily enough maybe I’ll be merciful and help you out.”
You know exactly what she wants to hear and you’re more than happy to tell her.
“I’m yours, Cirrus, fuck, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours.”
She’s nodding, unable to keep the arousal and delight from her voice when she speaks again.
“Whose pussy is this, angel?”
“Yours!” you half-shout, “It’s your pussy Cirrus, all yours. I’m all yours.”
“Atta girl,” she growls, and in a swift movement she brings her hands down to your thighs and begins jackhammering into you. You can feel tears pouring down your cheeks as you weep in relief, her cock slamming into you even deeper than you could manage. All of a sudden everything becomes too much - the heat of the room, the coolness of her skin, her cock pounding inside you - and you sob as your cunt spasms wildly around her. She brings your body down to hers, wrapping her arms around you as she continues to fuck you, even after you’ve come. You’re not sure how long it takes for you to come down from your high and for your breathing to even out, but her hands are running cool trails up and down your sweat-slicked back.
“I got you, honey,” Cirrus whispers, as you mouth weakly at her shoulder, “come here, I got you.”
Gently she rotates both your bodies so you’re side by side and she eases the cock out of you. You whimper at the emptiness as she fusses with the buckles of her strap, tossing it aside once free of it. She strips off her shirt and cooing, takes you in her arms and lays your body half on top of hers. When you finally find the energy to speak, your voice is comically hoarse.
“Thank you.”
She chuckles, brushing your damp hair out of your eyes and kissing your forehead.
“You were amazing, hon,” Cirrus murmurs, “watching you come apart never gets old. Thank you for indulging me.”
You chuff a laugh against her skin, your hand drifting to the juncture of Cirrus’ thighs.
“Do you want me to…?”
“No,” Cirrus says, gently pulling your hand away and kissing it, “the show you put on was more than enough for me.”
You smile and nuzzle into her shoulder before taking a deep breath and cringing.
“Unholy fuck, I stink,” you grouse and Cirrus laughs.
“Yeah, you do,” she admits, scratching at your scalp. “Shower?”
“Please,” you groan, lifting yourself off her. She starts to get up and pauses a moment, thoughtfully.
“How come you texted me and not ‘Lus?”
You’re halfway to the bathroom when you turn and face her with a sly smile. Cirrus shakes her head and laughs.
“Am I that predictable?”
“Let’s just say I knew I would be killing two birds with one stone if I came to you at this hour, hmm?”
You’re exhausted but a familiar heat stirs in your belly when you see her prowl towards you, eyes glinting in the low light. 
“Cheeky,” she purrs as she advances on you, “get in that shower and I’ll add a third bird to your kill list.”
She lunges at you and you shriek, darting into the not-so-safe bathroom.
If this is what you get out of it, you might be okay with the air conditioning breaking every once in a while.
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ivystoryweaver · 2 days
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Special Delivery
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Based on this very patient nonnie’s requests: “I was thinking about Steven Grant x male reader. Like something very and super fluff with him, cause I love him so much and I love fluff stuff with him” Original asks here, here , and here - tysm nonnie!
Summary: You're making a delivery to the museum's gift shop and the cutest gift shop clerk has to sign for it (It's Steven, of course)
Pairing: Steven Grant x m!reader
Word Count: 724
Content: fluff, flirting, meet cute, not beta'd
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
“Stevie, if I have to ask you one more time to answer the back door bell, I swear I’ll take the shipping fare out of your paycheck.”
Steven’s entire body tenses as his supervisor’s grating voice echoes across the museum gift shop.
“Right. On it, boss,” he amicably musters with a cheesy mock salute, grumbling a curse under his breath as he shuffles off the sales floor, through the swinging door marked “Employees Only”. Rummaging around for his keys, he groans as the bell rings again, signaling what’s likely to be an impatient and possibly rude delivery person.
“Just a moment,” he sighs, checking each and every pocket for his keys, hopelessly tossing his dark curls out of his eyes as he finally produces his keyring. “Could’ve sworn I left those in my jacket,” he murmurs, attempting to remember the past twenty-four hours, vaguely realizing he could not, in fact, remember much at all.
Then the bell trills again - insistently. One, two, three times in a row.
“All right, hold your bloody horses…” Steven trails off, yanking the door open, eyes going wide at the sight of you.
Dressed smartly in your delivery uniform, you chomp on your gum, reaching up to cheekily tip your cap to the flustered gift shop clerk.
“Doorbell broken?” You casually ask, popping your gum. “Must’ve rung half a dozen times.”
“So sorry,” Steven rushes to apologize. “Bit of trouble finding my keys. Come right in.”
You chuckle warmly, rather than condescendingly, as the shorter (and very cute) man reaches for a box to help you unload.
“You know, they pay me to do that, mate.” The corner of your mouth curls as his bright brown eyes go wide.
“Oh god, sorry. Wouldn’t want to break anything.” Steven almost jumps back, pulling his hands closely to his chest - a gesture so adorable your heart trips over itself. “Just wanted to help, is all,” he adds.
“Appreciate it,” you sincerely reply, but…noticing the rosy hue creeping across his cheeks, you chance a wink, nodding down at his name tag. “Steven.”
“With a V,” he chuckles, a bit flustered. “Steven with a V. That’s me.”
“I see that,” you smirk, pointing, once again to his name tag. “Can’t really make deliveries if I can’t read now, can I?”
The thing is - everyone calls Steven the wrong name. Everyone. Stevie, Scotty, ‘hey you!’ The fact that you read his name tag and winked... Maybe you winked?
Steven probably imagined that. "Right, em, guess I'll get out of your way then." He makes a circular motion with his hand. "Sure you have a whole system going. Sorry to bother."
"No bother," you shake your head, expertly offloading a huge palate of shipment with astonishing ease.
Steven wets his lips at the way your uniform shirt fits your arms and chest. "Must be new here..." He finds himself murmuring.
"What's that?" You pause, slinging your arm over your dolly full of boxes.
"Oh, em, haven't seen you 'round. Must be new," Steven repeats, snapping out of his distracted stare. Returning the favor, he reads your name from your uniform shirt tag.
"New route," you explain, pivoting the dolly up with your foot, ready to move it again, but you pause - eyes raking over Steven's adorably hunched body. A mess of dark curls, and purple circles under eyes with secrets and stories to tell. Hands with long, lovely fingers drawn carefully to his chest. Still...he's handsome. And kind.
To most people, you're invisible. But Steven's noticed you. "Gotta say. I like the view." With another well-timed wink, you chomp your gum and carry on with your task.
Once you finish, you have the gift shoppist electronically sign your tablet. "I will see you later, Steven with a V." You smile warmly.
"Every Monday and Thursday!" He exuberantly quotes the delivery schedule to you, as if you aren't aware.
"All right. Thursday then." Pulling your work glove off your hand, you take a chance, crossing over the line of professionalism. "Nice to meet you...Steven." You extend your hand for a shake, completely right about how it would feel to touch him.
Yeah. You're glad you've left your number scribbled on the top box. Maybe he'll call you before Thursday. If not, you'll make sure to write it on his hand next time.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Steven Grant-Centric stories
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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queenofbaws · 2 days
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! Pride Month Challenge 2024 !
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Well hi there, everyone! With May winding down to a close and June just around the corner, it's about that time again...the time where @jadedsunshine, @unicornaffair, and I host our yearly create-a-thon! 🥳
What's the Pride Month Challenge, you might find yourself asking? Well, this year it's a little bingo game we've put together, featuring some classic tropes. The aim of this particular game? Make something!!! Anything! Just get those creative juices a-flowin' and see if you can snag a B-I-N-G-O along the way!
This challenge is open to everyone and anyone who wants to take part, whether you know the three of us or not! We're going to be using the tag #pridemonthchallenge2024 for the stuff we create, so if you decide to join in on the fun and games, feel free to stick that tag on whatever you make, too! If you're interested in more details, you can check below the cut or reach out and ask ;)c
Either way, happy almost-pride, and happy creating!!!
I don't write fic - can I still participate?
Ab. So. Lutely!!! We've done this challenge for a few years now (we've missed a year or two for weddings and other life stuff, whoops!), but in the past we've had people doodle, sketch, draw, make edits, create props or other physical art, and even curate playlists! The three of us are writers, so you're very likely to see fic or ficlets from us...but you? Oh. Oh, you can do whatever your heart desires!!!
Are there word limits/expectations for a finished product?
NO!!! :D Zero. Literally zero expectations. We aren't putting together an exchange, we aren't holding a competition, we're just trying to get the spirit of creation in the air. That's it! So whether you're writing 50 words or 5,000, whether you've made a rough sketch on a notebook page or fully lined/colored a scene, you're good! You're so good. As long as you've made something, you've earned a stamp on that bingo card, baby!!!
What if I don't want to do something fandom-y? Can it be OCs/original work?
OF COURSE!!! 100%. You don't even have to ask!!! Show the world your OCs! Tell the world about your story's worldbuilding! It's all fair game :)
What if I don't want to post what I made?
Don't sweat it! Again, this is...the farthest thing from official. This is for fun, and this is for the sake of making something. Sharing your work can be nerve-wracking - don't feel like you have to! We'd love to see you playing along with us, of course, but as long as you've made something that you're proud of, you've earned that stamp! No ifs, ands, or buts!
Is it cool if my creations aren't necessarily pride-themed?
Totally! We host this challenge during pride month because (1) it traditionally works better for the three of us than NaNoWriMo because of our schedules, and (2) we're queer creators ourselves! But if you're feeling a prompt and can't find a way to make it relevant to pride, PLEASE don't sweat it! As I've been known to say (and then get laughed at for saying), this challenge is no rules, just right, Outback Steakhouse :P
Let's say I get a bingo...what do I win?
:) Nothing. <3
Wait, really?
:) Really <3 Hehehe, in all seriousness, this challenge has been a fun way for us to sit down, take our minds off of life and our bigger projects and just...make some fun stuff! In our humble opinion(s), being able to point at a finished piece and say "I did that! I made that!" is its own kind of reward. The bingo board itself is really more for bragging rights ;)c Which, of course, we encourage wholeheartedly. Nothing wrong with a little bragging!!!
We hope to have you along for our month-long adventure! Again, we're going to be using the tag #pridemonthchallenge2024 for our own stuff, so if you'd like to use that tag - or tag any of us!!! - in whatever you end up creating, feel free!!! We love seeing what everyone comes up with, and this challenge is always so much more fun, knowing other people are taking part! <3 Hope to see you along for the ride!
*The bingo board was made by the lovely @jadedsunshine 🥰
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danwithouttheplan · 2 years
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📌 yes, the axolotl IS a salamander
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killjoy-prince · 3 months
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House M.D. but it's when a character says the name of the episode
#house md#prince's talk tag#flashing#repitition#so as i was watching this show i noticed they'd say the episode title in the episode#so i wanted to see how many times they did it#the people on livejournal who made transcripts of the episodes are my saviors and without them this would of been so much harder to do#thank you all for your service and i hope wherever you all are you're having a great day#sometimes they would use a variation of the word like in the episode poison they would say 'poisoned' or 'poisoning'#i did not include those instances#there was an instance in 'merry little christmas' where they do play the song in the show#but since ella fitzgerald was not a character in the show i did not include it#where as in the episode 'joy to the world' the students are singing it in the concert so i did include that#i apologize for the tonal whiplash when you get to that part but it did make me laugh#one of the times kutner says 'locked in' is overshadowed by the POTW's voice over but i assure you he says it and thats why its in there#out of the main characters from the one who said the title the most to least are#House > Foreman > Wilson > Chase > Cuddy > Adams > Cameron and Taub > Kutner > Thirteen and Park#this took a bit to do lolol its probably been done already but i wanted my own#there is a chance im missing some on technicalities but idc. im fine with this#there are two more i wanna do but with a character saying another character's name but ill do that some other time#EDIT: When I was making this video I was unaware that the Pilot episode went by two names: 'Pilot' and 'Everybody Lies'#Basically everywhere I looked the first episode was only referred to by 'Pilot'#which I found weird bc i remember seeing somewhere that the last episode was paired with the first episode in terms of title#but i couldn't find hard proof so I decided to leave it out at the time#well i checked again last night and yea the pilot IS also called Everybody Lies so I updated the video#I also think it goes well with the fact that House does say 'Everybody Dies' in the finale so another reason to fix it#AND he says it without Wilson while he and Wilson say the title of the pilot sooooo yea hehehehehe
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itspileofgoodthings · 20 days
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The past couple weeks it’s been really hitting me how much harder it’s been teaching Pride and Prejudice this year—which was so disappointing at first? Because works I’ve traditionally had a harder time with I’ve felt like i’ve broken new ground while teaching and am teaching the kids BETTER. So initially I was so frustrated that my historically easiest work to teach was feeling so difficult! But there’s been some good days that have let me see that part of what was happening was that I have simply never reached this number of kids with pride and prejudice before and so consequently I have never had so many kinds of reactions before! In the waking up from the sleep of simply never paying attention there IS going to be plenty of stupidity, contrariness, crankiness, and almost arguing? Like even with themsELVES. And that’s a good thing.
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alright. know what? with Secrets of the Obscure right around the corner and plenty of new Mists-related sky island settings coming with it, I'll just bite the bullet and interest-check a little something I've been turning in my head for a long, long while.
would YOU be interested in a Mists-based GW2 roleplay guild that uses a lore compliant multiverse system to allow canon, canon-adjacent, lore-breaking, and otherwise 'contradictory' muses to coexist in the same setting?
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simply put: every writer's cast would be set in their own self-contained universe. as such, everyone could bring whatever muses they want with their own personal headcanons, and no one could dictate what is or isn't canon for anyone else. so long as your muses are GW2-based, you're good to go! bring your Commanders, bring your canon-divergent OCs, bring your canon muses-- and yes, even the ones that are 'supposed' to be dead. who can say what might have happened in a strange world far across the Mists, after all?
neutral hubs and in-character safety guardrails would be in place to keep all muses on a relatively even playing field regardless of their power, history, and prestige, too. play hardball if you like, but it might not end quite the way you'd hope. the main rule would be to maintain good OOC etiquette at all times: no godmodding, no metagaming, no theft, don't blend IC and OOC, and so-on.
if that sounds like something you might have interest in, please interact with this post! and if you've got questions or concerns, I'd love to hear them; feel free to send an ask or a DM, or just reply to this post!
#GW2 roleplay#GW2 rp#GW2#my posts#so there's a LOT of reasons why I'm putting this forward#but the biggest is that I really want there to be a place that's actually inclusive for all the creativity that exists in this fandom#there was exactly one Mists multiverse event a while back and it was well-received from everything I saw!#i know i for one had a lot of fun AND felt a lot more welcome and comfortable than i have at any other event#and then... we proceeded to just never have another again.#like. we could have more of that. that niche could still use filling! we can do SO much more with this!!!#and especially with SotO coming out we could have some REALLY interesting locations to meet up too!#I'd be happy to kickstart this stuff but the thing is: it WILL need support. I just can't do it all alone and that's a fact#example: if we want a guild hall in-game we'd have to work together to get one; that'd be great for hosting public and private events#my personal goal is 5-10 participants so that we can have enough to run small events and mingle muses a bit#IF there's enough interest i'll roll out more information at that time. for now tho i'll just leave it at this to test the waters#reblogs are HIGHLY appreciate here: i'm a smallfry in a big sea and not many people check the tags. spread the word if you want to see this#on that note: thanks for reading and hopefully i'll hear from some of you soon. o/#(side detail: that sky pic is a screen i snapped at night in Istan. it's so pretty there ok)
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Happy New Year!!
*pops grape juice bottle* woooo we’ve made it, guys!
2023 was such a nice year in the fandom, in my opinion. There was s3 and that was a banger, but I feel like the stuff we were up to ourselves over here was amazing too. I got to talk more with some of my mutuals who I hadn’t been as close to before, and lovely people keep coming to this corner of the internet!! We had our first sketchbook event and are currently preparing for a general Hilda Appreciation Week, I feel like this is all amazing considering the size of this community.
Just wanted to thank everyone who’s been here for the ride as well! It’s certainly always more fun when you have people to be insane with you. I just. Get very touched thinking about the amount of support in this fandom and how we creatively fuel each other.
Anyway, just wanted to write this post as a thank you. I hope you’re having a lovely end of the year, and may 2024 be even better 💜
(I do have one small writing update to add, though! The first months of the year will probably be relatively devoid of new content from me. This for two reasons. One is that I churned out so many fics this year that I feel like even the people who like my writing are having a hard time catching up (I don’t know how this happened either-), and the other is that I’ll be using my free time to get ahead on preparing my content for the rest of the year! I won’t completely stop or anything (Hilda Appreciation Week will see to that), just wanted to leave this noted so no one things I’ve Vanished from the fic writing scene or anything. I’m just preparing my next attack. Anyways that was it happy new year!!)
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