#but you will never understand the weight these people carry. they are human beings and treating them as anything but is despicable.

[hawksinacup]

RANT ABOUT HAWKS

Thinking about Keigo's wings, and how a lot of people like to base Keigo's wings on a Red-Tailed Hawk. The average wingspan of RT-Hawks are just under 5 feet, and so if we scale it up by about 3.1x (taking the average size of a TRH and matching it as close as possible to Keigo's height.) Then multiply that by the average wingspan, (Lets say 4ft 2inch). Keigo would have a wingspan of around 13-15ft, depending on the size, so about 14ft.

From what we have seen, Keigo soars in the sky, like a Hawk would do. Understanding how a Hawk is able to soar, you would know that it conserves a lot of energy by doing so. We see that Keigo gets bored while flying during work, as its takes so little energy that it would quite literally not require him to concentrate on flying at all. (Theoretically, he could soar the skies effortlessly without even thinking, second nature type shit.) This allows him to use his eyes to scout the ground below, or shift his body during flight.

We also know that Keigo states that he is not powerful, and relies on speed and agility. Keigo can also manipulate his feathers to sharpen them, use them as blades, sense things around him, and pick people or object up. We know his feathers are incredibly strong, specifically the calamus, or quil. If we take that into account, we can theorize that Keigo could probably lift close to a ton with his feathers. We know this because when Hawks rescues the civilians in the collasping building in the nomu fight, he is carrying well over 20 adults (possibly 30-60), the average weight of a human being anywhere from 120-200 lbs. Even as a child, Keigo has saved adults during the high-speed car accident, meaning Keigo's feathers have always been strong.

Knowing all of this, we can safely say, I have no idea where this is going other than Keigo is stupidly fast, smart, and strong. Even if we only see two aspects, his speed and wit, we also get bits of how powerful his wings are.

BY THE WAY, Keigo is stupidly resiliant... He lands on his back, tumbling and recovered within the instant, adjusting his wings for balance as he runs at an inhumane speed, not only backwords, but squated, or knees bent close to 90°, any other hero would more than likely have taken the fall, stayed down for a good while then recovered.

Keigo is also impulsive, manipulative and aware. He can read others better than they think, he states how he is impulsive and can't control himself when he wants something. He snuck his way into Twice's brain along with 95% of the PLF. Keigo is so casual about how he presents himself, that people never notice how alert he is.

Oh and and and, THIS IS IMPORTANT. KEIGOS WINGS ARENT CONSTANTLY SENSITIVE. We knows this because canonically, kids and adults touch and mess with his wings when he deals with his fans. We only see his feathers detect sounds, vibrations, etc. when he concentrates to do so. Meaning he needs a lot of brainpower to "listen in" through his feathers. If they were constantly sensitive, then he wouldn't be able to use them during combat, rescue, or near others.

Thank you for listening to my TED Talk.

(Edit: spelling)

(Side Note: I could keep going, I really could... but if I did this would be stupidly long.)

#mha hawks #keigo takami #bnha hawks #pro hero hawks #hawks bnha #hawks mha #hawks #mha

[3lostyears]

timepetals thoughts i keep having:

i know that the assumption is “she is my s-” means soulmate but i always think he just thinks of rose as his soul. less that she completes him or is his other half and more that she just is his conscience and any goodness he may have is hers. he was born out of love for her, she is such an integral part of him, she is his soul itself.

i know everyone has taken permanent damage from the “how long are you going to stay with me” and why the general focus is on the doctor’s reaction but the way rose says forever gets to me. she’s not giddy or girlish when she says it, in some ways she almost sounds resigned to it, which has wonderfully angsty connotations in the timeline of s2. but it’s why it really works for me, she is so dead serious and committed when she says it, because she understands everything it means (and therefore part of her feels solemn about it). it has a lot of weight to it. even the first time donna says she’s going to travel with the doctor forever to martha at the end of the doctor’s daughter she sounds a lot more fanciful.

every time i hear the doctor scream when rose loses her grip in doomsday i just think that he would absolutely not have survived her actually being sucked into the void.

i always think the vocals in doomsday are similar to the doctor’s theme so to me the angry rock music is rose’s side and the vocals are his, rather than the howling wolf idea i’ve heard some people compare it to. how the doctor’s theme is lonely and mournful with its sparse instruments but calm, everything the ninth doctor was, while doomsday is heartbroken and angry and an entire orchestra because it’s two people overcome with grief together. how doomsday becomes such a motif for both characters individually, even when they're separated.

i still struggle to comprehend that the doctor wearing floral ties in s3 is canon and NOT a fanfic trope like you're telling the doctor said "i need a floral motif as close to my two hearts as possible" and you're describing him as something other than a grieving widower???

the doctor really could not go anywhere in s3 without running into some kind of couple but i never see people talk about the parallels in 42. “we chose this ship together / he keeps me honest so i don’t want false hope” and the way the doctor literally gives mcdonnell his condolences through gritted teeth?? the fact that she would rather die with korwin than be without him and have it be her fault

that the doctor, king of self-loathing, saw rose dressed as his ninth self and carrying a giant weapon and he not only RAN to her but then deliberately protected her from the trauma of seeing him change again. and then tentoo immediately picks a blue suit to be like now i’m matchey matchey with rose 🥰 the universe was ending and he’d seen rose again for two actual minutes but the doctor was so utterly focused on her.

how tentoo truly is rose's doctor, especially as he's got that little bit of nine in him. he's born out of the same love and protection of his previous incarnations but he loses a heart and the curse of the timelords and goes oh, this is rose's heart. and then he wears the blue mourning suit and yes, there is still mourning, but there is also the start of the rest of their lives together.

how the doctor’s hair most noticeably changed after school reunion to become spikier and less boyish. how that coincides with him using mickey to put distance between himself and rose now that he’s been reminded of rose’s mortality.

how wild the doctor and jack’s conversation in utopia is. the way the doctor says “rose” like it’s an entire explanation in itself because even before she absorbed the time vortex she fundamentally changed the life of everyone she met. the way he says “everything she did was so human” and the way he accepts jack’s sorry to him because there’s no trying to deny his feelings from jack, not when he saw his ninth self. the way jack has BARELY finished his sentence about watching rose grow up when the doctor casually asks him if he wants to die, the almost playful way he says it. one semi suicidal immortal who spent half of the season trying to get himself killed to another, both of them still kind of toying with the idea. both of them trying to have hope even though they've lost so much.

#doctor who #timepetals #rose tyler #meta #dw meta

[haroldthehuckleberry]

Step-Son MPreg

CW- mpreg, sex, language, Step-Son X Step-Dad storyline

I always fancied my step-dad since i met him i thought he was hot, hes a classic himbo, hes tall, muscly, blonde and stupid as can be.

I never knew if he was purposefully flirting with me of was just too stupid to understand it was wrong, but it being wrong made me so horny, id often wank off after he’d compare our hand sizes, snuggle up to me or even bend over to empty the dishwasher, anything and everything he did turned me on so hard! he always wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination, short-shorts, crop-tops or no tops! My actual dad loved this about him and it made me so jealous seeing them cuddle and kiss and then one day… my dad went on a business trip. it was now or never.

i came downstairs in my dressing-gown and boxers showing off my abs and mediocre pecs i walked into the living room to my step-dad half asleep on the couch only in his briefs and white running socks, sweating and scratching his perfect body when he saw me he woke up a little and pushed a finger into his underwear suggestively “oh… hey man” he said in a gruff half awake voice “h-hey” i stammered taken aback by how horny he already seemed my cock visibly swelled in my already tight boxers. he glanced down to it quickly and blushed “come here pal i have something to show you” he said gesturing for me to walk over- i follow his orders and sit next to him, he places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep long kiss. i rest my hand on his groin and feel his cock twitch and harden through his pants i then slowly kiss his neck, then his chest, then his abs until his beautiful totem-pole of a cock is in-front of my face. i confidently slip it all into my throat in one go and he lets out a little moan.

i suck him off for what feels like an hour before he pulls me up by my armpits and spins me around, he lifts my dressing gown up and squeezes my ass before bending me over the couch as he teases my underwear down making my cock twitch due to the prolonged friction, he then rubs the head of his penis along the outside of my un-used hole while i beg for his cock i then moan loudly as he slides it all in at once. he grabs the hair on the back of my head and holds my cock in the other one of his massive veiny hands his expert technique instantly turns me into a worthless hole only purpose is to please him, after a few hours of fucking and cumming we fall asleep on the couch naked together.

after a few more days of constant fucking, sucking and cumming my real dad comes home and we have to start being discrete, doing it in one of our cars or while hes away or even just quietly under the kitchen table, the closer he is, the hotter we find it.

after months of this i notice a small ball in the centre of my stomach while getting dressed i think nothing of it and carry on and on until its too obvious to hide under baggy clothes, i tell people im just bulking cause i want to build mass, i wanted to believe it but me and my step dad knew it was more.

his cum must be super-human i quickly became the biggest pregnant person id ever seen i stuck to my story but less and less people believed it that was when my dad confronted me “hey buddy!” he said putting his head around my door into my room as i lay weighted down by my planet-belly, “ive noticed that your clearly pregnant” i try to sit up and defend myself but it takes me far to long to even start bending my mid-section “you dont need to deny it i know what it looks like-you where one hell of a baby! anyway i was just wondering who the daddy was and if hes in the picture” i knew he was asking because my other dad was never in the picture “well erm he kind of is” i finally admit rubbing my tight taught skin “its m-my step dad” i say defeated. “no fucking way!” my dad says more surprised than angry he finally steps fully in my room without a shirt on revealing his own pretty-large pregnant belly…

#cw mpreg #mpreg #mpreg belly #mpreg kink #mpregnancy #pregnant man #male pregnancy #mpreg roleplay #mpreg story #male bloating #mpreg caption #tw mpreg #mpregoverdue

[simplyavatrice]

I think it's easy to forget just exactly what Ava went through. She was SEVEN years old and woke up in strange place, with cranky old nuns, only to find out she was paralyzed and that her mom had died. Not only that, but no other member of her family ever came for her. Nobody was looking for her, nobody wanted her and suddenly she's all alone and dealing with the loss of her mothre and her independence.

You'd think, oh well maybe she has a support system in the orphanage? Nope, they treat her like shit, like the burden she believes she is. As someone who has been in a wheelchair their whole life, let me tell you, feeling like a burden is an everyday thing. You’re not, and having people who remind you that you’re not and make you understand that you’re not is beautiful, but Ava didn’t have that. She had Sister Frances, who went out of her way to tell Ava she was worthless and I doubt anyone else there was much better.

So it's no wonder Ava was a sarcastic, snarky little shit to the nuns in the orphanage - they made her that way. Being bratty to them was the only thing she could do to feel some semblance of control.

Flash forward to Ava's death, where she was literally murdered because nobody cared and there was nowhere for her to go. Ava spent twelve years in a personal hell of being trapped in her own body, was then killed like someone taking out the garbage. Empty, alone and tossed aside.

So when she was revived by the halo, with her legs suddenly working and freedom to do whatever she wanted, of COURSE she wanted to be free.

That's the entirety of Ava's character arc - SHE WANTS TO LIVE! She hasn't been able to for so long she barely remembers how to do it.

It's not that easy, of course, the halo carries a ton of weight and Ava fights it and runs from it and resists it as much as she can, and who can blame her? She finally gets the chance to be alive, to be free and enjoy life and all these strangers (who are everywhere becuase Ava is completely alone in the world) are pushing and pulling her in every direction. She's constantly told that she doesn't deserve the halo. Doesn't deserve this chance.

Despite ALL of that, Ava's heart is strong and her passion for life overshadows all the darkness she's been dealt. She isn't just full of life, but love. She's spent years not having anyone to love her, but more than that, she's never been able to give anyone her love and I think that's very important to her. We see it so much as the show goes on. Her softness with Mother Superion when she finds her halo scar, and the way she connects with Mary, Camila being sweet to her, little things like that.

Then of course there's Bea.

Beatrice, who never sees Ava as someone that needs to be replaced, but as someone who can be taught, trained and shaped into what they need. Who sees that Ava, the human being, has value and that she's worth protecting. They connect and share and for the first time, Ava has someone who actually accepts her as a person. Not a burden or a vessel for the halo, but Ava Silva, the girl inside that's been so alone for so long.

I think that's why Ava is so bouncy with Bea, falls for her so easily, because Beatrice saw Ava's zest for life and her need for love and embraced it. Saw it as something worth fighting for, beyond the halo or duty, Beatrice liked HER. Probably the first person who felt that way since her mother was taken from her (outside of Diego, but he was so young it couldn't have been the same).

Anyway, this long winded post that probably doesn't make any sense is just my way of saying that I love Ava. I love her joy and her humor. I love that she has had so much pain dumped on her and still chooses to smile. Given the way she was treated and the power she was given, Ava could have been a villain. She could have carried a hatred for god or the world and everyone in it who forgot about her but she didn't. Instead, she found the life and love she desperately wanted and gave up everything to protect it.

#ava silva #avatrice #warrior nun #this is my long overdue ava silva appreciation post #sometimes you just find characters that hit different and she's that for me #i'm not sure i'll find one i enjoy more than her #save warrior nun #alba baptista #she deserves all the awards for her performance of ava #she's INCREDIBLE

[totaly-obsessed]

Hi first off all I don’t know who you write for but could you maybe write something about pregnancy with Niamh Charles or Maya Le Tissier???

Picture Time

Niamh Charles x reader request

-> Going through pregnancy with Niamh

-> @anon hope you like it! It is a bit shorter than I wanted to but I ran out of ideas

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Baby, please! Just stand up straight against that wall!” Niamh has been trying to convince you to take pictures for a month now.

A month ago you had finally gotten a positive pregnancy test, and ever since confirming with doctors, your fiancé was obsessed with getting you in front of a wall. “That sounds like I’m a prison inmate baby.”

The sly smirk on her face was nothing new – any time you said something remotely sensual, or something she could misinterpret she turned into a horny teenage boy. “Oh! Didn’t know that you had a role-play kink, baby. So you’re the inmate – what am I the hot police officer?” You couldn’t swat her wandering hand fast enough, letting out an annoyed huff. “Don’t lie baby – you would kill to see me in a uniform and I know it.”

Her cocky stance changed immediately when you tried to get away from the empty wall. “No wait! I’m sorry!” Kiss after kiss was pressed on your forehead while she grabbed your wrists, gently maneuvering you back into position – one side facing the wall, the other facing Niamh. “I’ll take one picture every week and watch you two grow!” That was fine in itself but you didn’t understand why that had to happen in your underwear.

The footballer tried to calm your nerves down again and again once she knew of them – of course, your body was changing, how could it not? But to her, you looked perfect, you started to show just a little and both of you had noticed once she had made you stand in front of the wall.

While Niamh was ecstatic throughout the first months, you started to get nervous.

Niamh however, was very useless when it came to the nerves “Just don’t stress about it – relax, baby!” she had said when you told her about your fears. “I have a small human being depending on me to grow strong and healthy for a whole nine months, what’s to stress about, right?” Your snappy response was enough for her to realize, that you really did mean it, you were scared.

The defender realized that her life hadn’t changed all that much ever since you had gotten pregnant – but yours was completely different than before, and she became a lot more understanding.

Everything hurt, you started to swell up and gain weight, and your hormones were in overdrive – driving you both crazy. Quite a few people started to distance themselves from you, a lot of them being old friends who didn’t want anything to do with children, and others who were just disappointed that you didn’t want to hit the night scene anymore. “So what if you’re pregnant – you can still come!” One of them had actually said that, and she accused you of being selfish when you explained, that you just couldn’t go to clubs right now – no matter how much you wanted to.

You also had to give up a lot of food, that Niamh started to obsess over once she realized that some things just weren’t good for the baby growing inside of you. “Carbs, coffee, dairy… this kid better be real sweet for everything I had to give up.” Yeah – breakfast had changed a lot and it was now up to your fiancé to make it, as she desperately tried to ignore your whines for coffee.

But she was your rock throughout the whole pregnancy – she never invalidated your feelings and she was always happy to just be with you, no matter what state you were in, helping you through the pain and making you laugh so much that “I just peed myself a little.” Was not an uncommon sentence in your home.

Winning the FA Women’s Super League 2022/23 was huge for Niamh, but it was even better to see you after the match – with a round belly, carrying your child. “We did it, baby!” She was so excited as she was trying to scream over the noise of the crowd, climbing into the friends and family section, and pulling you into a deep, passionate, and bruising kiss. “You did it, baby!”

But after the initial hugs and kisses you noticed the smell – usually you didn’t care but having a sensitive stomach was a bitch. “Baby I love you, but please don’t come close to me until you’ve had a shower or I’ll puke on you.” Everyone in your vicinity laughed at your pouting girlfriend, but they quickly stopped once you wouldn’t hug them either – until Millie ushered them into the changerooms.

After winning the league there were a couple of formalities to go through – such as taking professional pictures with the trophy – and smitten as Niamh was, she took you with her. Both of you had picked a gorgeous dress to match Niamh’s stunning blue suit. Everything was going absolutely fine until it came to the shoes.

“Fuck this!” Sam swears she has never seen Niamh faster than that. “What? What is it?”

“I can’t see the ground anymore, my stomach is so big and I can’t get these dumb shoes on!” With a soft coo, your fiancé started to wipe the frustrated tears away, that were making their way down your cheeks. “Awwwh, baby. You’re absolutely fine.” She helped you into the shoes and pulled you up.

After a few kisses and calming back rubs, you were fit to leave the room, seeing Niamh’s teammates eying you with concern. “Everything’s fine guys! It is just that growing a human being is really hard.”

Both Niamh and you were counting down the days to your due date – your fiancé’s ever-growing picture collection on her phone being the most watched thing she had on there while you literally crossed off days on the calendar, getting nervous when you started to see the circled one.

Just a couple more weeks to go.

“Baby I think we should start thinking about the birth plan by now.”

“Oh, I have a plan. Get her out.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #niamh charles x reader #niamh charles #chelsea wfc x reader

[norrisleclercf1]

Midnight

Pairing: Reader x Charles Leclerc

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Angst, just utter angst, talk of loss of parent, having depression under tones, it's just sad honestly, also each time they speak to each other it's a different night

A/N: I wrote this as a self-indulgence and honestly a work I've kept for myself I wrote late one night decided to post it today.

The night holds secrets, secrets of the unspoken words left for the world to swallow. It's where you find those lost in the world wandering on the streets or those with nothing left to give. The night eats everything, waiting to be washed away from the sun.

Someone once said that the night is when you can make mistakes because it cleans it all away when the sun rises. You don't remember who told you that; maybe it was after your father died. He passed in the night, right before the clock struck midnight.

You still can feel the ocean breeze on your skin as you wander the empty streets, so lost in the world that not even the moon can guide you. Meeting him was a mistake, something you wish the sun could wash away. But not even it was powerful enough to wash away those mistakes. To you, he was the moon and the sun, something that allowed you to be human but still sweep it all away.

The stone wall pressed into your back, etching those marks into your skin. He was a passing shadow, also lost to the world. The stars still don't understand why he reached his hand out to you, one of the night's lonely followers. His voice was like the ocean, calm yet could rage a storm.

"Are you okay?" Something in you twisted, hearing those words. How could you be okay? You lost a piece of you that you never knew could be taken. The world was cruel, snatching away something you still needed. Looking up, his eyes mirrored the stars to you; they could have been stars.

The urge to shove his hand away was strong, but something told you that you needed to take hold of his hand. "No, I'm not okay." You whisper, ice meeting warmth when you slide your hand into his. His fingers wrap around yours as he pulls you up from the ground. "Come on, let's get you somewhere warm." He whispers, pulling you close, and heads to the only lit shop.

Each night was filled with you seeing him, the stranger who you never shared names with. It was the one thing you asked: no telling each other your names. He agreed, far too eager when you suggested it. You asked him why he liked the idea, and he smiled, saying his name carried some weight.

That he'll enjoy being able to talk to someone who didn't know him. You didn't care who he was. All you wanted was to tell someone your midnight secrets. Each night for almost a year, you two met up at that same shop he brought you to when you first met. "You've been skipping our nights." You whispered, a steaming coffee mug in your hands.

You didn't even need to look up to see his face. You could hear his brain clicking. "My job requires me to travel, starting in March all the way to November. I'll be gone for a while, but keep showing up. I'll be here one night." He smiled, taking in your frown. "Okay," It's all you said to that. Maybe he was lying. How could you know? An average person would ask his name and already have an FBI profile on them, but you weren't normal. You haven't been since your father passed.

The cold nights turned into warm hugs. Which brought more people out, the secrets of the night now filled with the happiness that the sun brings. You hated it; people filled the streets, and the buildings now glimmered with the stars. People could no longer hide their secrets at night, for they'd be shown just as bright as day. As each night grew warmer, the more your shadow was no longer there, sitting in the corner, fingers moving with the soft piano notes that filled the shop.

"You're here." You were in such a daze when you walked in, the piece taken from you bigger than expected. "Yes," You breathe, hating how that piece in you shrunk seeing his smile. Sitting down, the secrets pass like a breeze, each of you sharing what no one dared to speak, much less think. "He died today." It was something you would never dare say. You were baring a shard of your soul, a piece chipped and sharpened by the cruel world.

"Who did?" His voice still that same ripple of the ocean. "My father," Your hand tightens on the mug. Who is this person? The one speaking of forgotten memories, the one speaking of the pain you never shared. "Mine died as well. I was young." He sips his drink, looking at the books that line the walls. Neither of you spoke a word for the rest of the night.

"It was," You clear your throat, the pitter-patter of rain marking the dark sky. "He died from an accident." Green eyes, the color of fresh grass after it rains, stare into yours. "Mine was cancer. It doesn't matter how they're taken. It's still too soon." Nodding to his words, you clamp your mouth shut, trying to stop the spill of all your secrets. "He's all I had left. Now I'm alone, like the stars." You place the money down and slip into the rain.

"Oh love, still here?" You've been acquainted with the elderly shopkeeper. Arthur, or Archie as he liked to be called, ran your little slice of sun. A little run-down coffee book shop that only locals know. Yet, they rarely visit. "He said I should still come, even when he doesn't show." You repeat the words back, fiddling with your mug. "Darling, it's been 3 weeks since he's been here. Go home." Archie whispers, patting your back as he hobbles into the back.

"He said to always come, even when he doesn't." The night holding onto those words filled with the longing you had. Was it possible to love a shadow? A shadow you have yet to see, a shadow you're not sure exists. The bell ding echoes into the street as you leave the shop. Walking through the road, you can hear the warmth that clings to people's laughter. How you wish you could laugh again, to feel that in your chest again.

Looking away from the brightness, you don't notice when someone collides with you. "Oh shit, Charles, you good man?" A voice rings with concern as you look up, meeting those eyes you crave. "I," He sits up, reaching out for you again. This time, you don't accept his hand. "Charles? Yo, we've got to go before the fans find us." A man turns the corner as you and your shadow, Charles, stare at one another. "I have to go." Scrambling up, you rush into the dark, where Charles stands, half in the light.

"You're here." He breathes. You hate yourself. You hate that you couldn't stay away. The secrets that were supposed to remain covered by the dark of the night are now slowly leaking into the light. Oh, how much you wish you could join it again. "To say goodbye." His bright smile fades like the sun setting. "No, don't. Just because you know my name doesn't mean you know me. Please, don't." He pleads, sliding into his chair.

"I have to, Char," You stop yourself, covering your mouth. "There is a reason we never shared names. Names have power, a power we will never understand. If you knew my name, you have the power of my secrets. I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry." Gathering up your stuff, you get stopped, his hand holding yours. "Who cares? We only give names and secretes the power to hurt us; don't let this be our last time." He whispers, fingers rubbing into your wrist.

"Charles, you're the sun, and I the moon. Destined to only know each other for such a short time that half the world goes dark, just to be near each other. You are to remain in the light and me the dark," Taking a deep breath, you smile. "For the night craved the light so much it drowned it created the stars so it wouldn't be lonely anymore."

The bell rings for the last time in the night. The stars were there to keep it company and to be graced with what little light it was offered.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 fics #f1 fic #ferrari charles #charles leclerc fanfic #charles imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic

[5ummit]

HTP Fic Recs: Hidden Gems

Have you, like me, devoured everything in the Hydra Trash Party AO3 tag and are desperate for more? Well you may be in luck.

In honor of CATWS's 10th anniversary I’ve decided, yet again, to make a new rec list so that these gems don't get buried in my overwhelmingly extensive original rec list. This list features HTP and HTP-adjacent fics that are NOT tagged as HTP (either because the author didn't know the label existed or didn't believe it applied to their fic), making them particularly hard to find, and I think, deserving of more attention.

Many of these fics don’t have much, if any, explicit noncon, but noncon is often implied or referenced and they’re all rife with other types of dehumanization and abuse so the usual HTP warnings still apply. Read tags carefully etc.

The Making of the Winter Soldier [series] by CluckU & Mumble_Bee Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS, Zola/WS Words: 13,700

There are a small, precious collection of things he knows for certain each time he wakes in his chair: He is a weapon. A soldier. An asset. He is being molded into the Fist of Hydra. He must prove himself. Failure is not an option.

Muscle Memory by sparklingbinjuice Relationship: Rumlow & Bucky Words: 4500

It had taken five minutes of fumbling but he had eventually picked the lock. The soldier wouldn’t be back for hours. Coordinates provided by the remaining, somewhat rudimentary, tracking device installed in the titanium arm indicated that he wandered the streets on weekends – watching people, visiting libraries and museums, feeding the birds. It was all so horribly human.

Reconquer, regain, recover by werebird Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS (past) Words: 2300

Hydra had known his body better than he himself ever could. They had taken it, reshaped it, reprogrammed it. They had birthed the Winter Soldier although they had never given him life.

Taming Winter by Runlights Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 91,000 Notes: terrifying bloodthirsty WS

Regardless of the intravenous set pumping warming fluids into those veins, regardless of the fact that a moment ago, the guy looked on the verge of death, the Winter Soldier was out of the chair and in front of him with two steps that happened so quickly he didn’t even have time to do more than inhale. He froze as he felt the press of his own combat knife against his throat, the bite of the blade causing blood to well and slip down his throat. This was the point where he suspected people felt fear, especially staring into those unfocused cold eyes. He only felt a twisted fascination.

The Soldier’s Kittens by exclamation Relationship: Sam & Bucky, Steve & Bucky Words: 11,300 Notes: animal abuse/death

"Sam's a really good guy," Steve said. "I think you'd like him if you spent more time with him." Bucky said nothing. He would not show any interest in Sam, just as he had not shown any interest when Steve had taken him to the animal shelter to try and get him to interact with the dogs there. He knew this trap and he wouldn't fall into it twice.

Flinching by Exorin Relationship: Steve/Bucky Words: 570

It might finally break what's left of him if Steve knew the way he's had to dig his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood just to shape his breath into the sound of a moan.

I'm comin' up only to hold you under by anonymous Relationship: Hydra Agents/Bucky, Steve/Bucky (past) Words: 2100

They drag him out of his cell by his hair and toss him into a room full of identical guards. He lands hard on his knees, the force of the impact stuttering up his weak, tired body, and he glares up and them with all the hatred he can gather. He feels off-balance, like he does whenever he tries to carry himself now—the stump of his missing arm has a phantom weight he can't get used to, won't get used to.

Context is Everything by thedevilchicken Relationship: Hannibal/Bucky Words: 2600

"I don't understand," Bucky replied. "Recontextualize?" "Your memories of HYDRA seem…distant," Hannibal said. "The way you speak about them is as if they happened to someone else. In order to process your trauma, you must understand that they happened to you."

Never Letting the Blood Dry by BarrenPines Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 2500 Notes: whipping

After the mission, there were pats on the back, expressions of congratulations and thanks, and a dozen other little niceties that made his skin crawl. He’d gotten lucky, that’s all. And he’d also defied orders, departed from his assigned task. Praise wasn’t what he deserved.

#quite a few of these have less than 1000 hits #it's such a tragedy because they're so good #please check them out and give them some love! #hydra trash party #winterbones #fic recs #bucky barnes #marvel #tenyearsoftrash #Happy CATWS Anniversary!

[pearwaldorf]

I have been trying to write this on and off for a while. I figure the second anniversary of the show is as fine an occasion as any to shove it out into the world. It is not everything I want to say about it, but I think the important bits are there.

It is a human impulse to be seen. To be told, through art, you are not alone. It is universal, but of special importance to people who are not well-represented in media (i.e. everybody who isn’t cis, white, able-bodied, skinny, and conventionally attractive).   

This show speaks to me as a queer person who figured things out later than most of my peers. (Not quite as late as Ed and Stede but not terribly far off either.) It’s not super common to see queer media address this, and I didn’t realize how much I needed that reassurance until I got it. That it’s okay to find these things any time in your life. To be told “A queer is never late, they’re always fashionably on-time.” 

They’re not my first canon queer ship. But they are the first ones where I knew it was true from the get-go. Multiple people assured me this was the case. And yet, I still didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own two eyes. This experience is not unusual for fans around my age.  

After I finished up season one, I laid in bed and cried. It’s not something I thought would affect me so much, but it feels like a weight I’d carried so long I didn’t realize it wasn’t supposed to be part of me is gone.

One of the reasons people unfamiliar with the fandom seem to think it’s absolutely crazy (which some of it is, to be fair, but every fandom has that) is the way fans of the show get extremely super intense about it. It took me a few weeks to realize this is a trauma response. I’m not even sure “trauma” is the right word. It doesn’t interfere with my day to day function, but it lasted for years. Decades. So it was definitely something that fucked me up. And in the way you can only start to see something as you’re moving past it, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get my head around this. (I don’t know if I have anything to say about it yet. Maybe I need more time to sit with it.)

I know this sounds contrary, but I’m really glad David Jenkins does not come from fandom. Sometimes it’s good to know where a line is, and others it’s better to not know there’s a line at all. And this is, sad to say, remarkable to somebody who has had to deal with this for so long. With so many writers and showrunners aware of the line, and getting right up next to it, but never crossing it.

Imagine doing a show with a queer romance and not understanding why this was received with such emotion and fervor, because it’s just two people in love right? What blissful ignorance that this needed to be explained to him! And then he listened to people’s experiences with queerbaiting, and went “Oh my god you thought I was going to do WHAT?” And then you go “Huh. That is really fucked up.” 

The problem with being told something enough, even though you know it’s wrong, is you start to believe it regardless. All the excuses and hedging. It’s so very difficult to do they tell us, when we hear from queer creators how they had fight tooth and nail to make it as gay as it already was. 

And then comes Jenks, just yeeting it out there: majority queer and (not and/or. and) POC cast, an openly non-binary person playing an openly non-binary character. The ability to not have to make one queer (and/or) POC character speak for everybody, so you can inject a tiny bit of nuance into the conversation. The way you can tell more kinds of stories, like the one where the smol angry internalized homophobe comes into his own with the support of a queer community, even though he was a giant fucking asshole to them before.

So many people were like “You can just DO that? It’s really that easy?” And wasn’t that a fucking Situation, to have that curtain pulled aside. What next? Majority POC casts with stories about POC written by POC? Absolute madness. (Please please watch The Brothers Sun on Netflix. It’s so fucking good.) 

And people will scoff and say “Of course a cishet(?) white man would be able to get this pushed through.” But do they usually? The thing I don’t think people understand about allies is they use their privilege to wedge the door open. You still have to do the work to get through, but at least you have a place to start. And it really fucking matters.

The press keeps trying to tell me The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin is the OFMD substitute we need while we float in the gravy basket. I’m sure it’s a perfectly fine show, but I don’t know who has watched OFMD and decided the itch we needed scratched was anachronistic historical comedy.

I want stories written by people that reflect their lived experiences, with actors and crew committed to bringing that to life. And I would like streamers and studios to commit to giving them a chance, and marketing them properly so people know they exist. 

You can keep people satisficed with scraps for only so long. At some point, somebody is going to give them a whole seven course dinner and people will wonder why they’ve been putting up with starving this entire time.

#our flag means death #ofmd #our flag turns 2 #pear watches ofmd #pear text

[aroacewxs]

my personal interpretation of cyberpunk dead boy

finished the event story today (thank you sekai.best my dear buddy pal) and looped the comm numerous times and studied the lyrics under a microscope, so i will now ramble a bit about my thoughts!! spoilers for backlit lens flare.

cyberpunk dead boy, from what i can tell, describes how modern consumerism and fame affects artists. it tells the story of an artist who started out with big dreams of portraying their feelings through their work, but slowly began spiralling into this pit of numbers and recognition and a vain desire for attention. whatever they wanted to communicate with their audience no longer has any substance or thought. they are then left wondering about whatever it is they dreamed of before this. what was the story they wanted to tell? does it even matter anymore?

cyberpunk "dead boy." the artist no longer lives for their art. there is nothing to breathe life into. are they even alive at this point?

on the other hand, we are also given the perspective of the consumers. consumers who don't care about the thought put into a piece of art, consumers who only care about whether this will make them feel good or not.

when you connect these two, you get a vain, lost artist who no longer sees their audience as individual human beings, but as VIEWERS. BUYERS. and these members of the audience are also trapped in this loop of consuming, throwing away, and finding something else to sink their teeth into. there is nothing meaningful being created.

rui's 4 star illustrates these audience members quite well. see, none of the passing people are. people. they have electronic devices for heads, and they're all glued to their phones. the little child holding their parent's hand, it should be a very wholesome and endearing sight, but it just feels wrong. there is no connection being developed between the two. this card depicts this haunting dystopian society where art no longer carries any weight for the human race, and we are all just left as hollow vessels with a mindless desire for meaningless entertainment. we don't develop any connections with other human beings, and the feelings that rui wants to evoke within his audience are futile.

on that note, the themes in this comm and the cards are incredibly oppositional to rui's own philosophy. what HE wants to achieve with his own art, his dream. compared to the thoughtless robots this artist sees their audience as, rui is incredibly caring and treats every single living being with such soft tenderness. he sees his audience as people. everything around him, the nature, the interactions he has with others, every single detail in his environment is a source of inspiration for his work. every single detail means that much to him. and whenever rui encounters a new artwork, a new play or story, he never just plays it off like "YUP another play. same old." he practically takes apart each layer one by one, studies it intently and tries to understand what kind of meaning the artist wanted to communicate. he then applies it to his own life, and to his own work. to think that rui would ever treat art and stories as something to just be eaten, thrown out, and forgotten about, is unfathomable.

this only leads me to wonder about the role sakaki will play in wxs's current arc. we ended off the story with ohara explaining to sakaki that rui is interested in stage production, and would probably encounter him again in the future. the way they framed this cliffhanger makes it only correct to assume that sakaki will return and will have a bigger part to play in wxs's story and their development.

sakaki intrigues me. his manner of speaking is very light and careless, his mannerisms even more so. compared to ohara, who is incredibly headstrong and burning like the sun with passion for his work and every single detail that is put into it, sakaki treats these details like they're just. there. takes one look at the scene ohara is having trouble with and it clicks instantly in his head. says some cryptic shit and packs his bag to leave.

furthermore, considering that most event commissions are written for the characters, for the story in that event, i really wonder who this song is about? is it about sakaki? will rui encounter this exact same problem about wondering what it was he wanted to portray from the beginning (unlikely imo, but would be interesting to see). nothing in backlit lens flare even remotely hints toward the lyricism in cyberpunk dead boy (i may have missed something, correct me if im wrong) which only excites me more for their next focus hehehe !!!

this was just a bunch of word vomit,, thank you for bearing with me, hopefully it makes sense?!?

#project sekai #wxs #wonderlands x showtime #rui kamishiro #kamishiro rui #jay does a think

[yoonieper]

His Majesty | KNJ

Come and serve your King.

・❥・ Pairing: King!Namjoon x Maid!Reader

・❥・ Genre: smut, angst, a tiny bit of fluff

・❥・ Rated: B for Bow 

・❥・ Warnings: cheating, oral (m+f receiving), clothes are ripped, bondage, spanking, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (this the past, but not you <3), joon’s a little too hot in this one, get your fans ready

・❥・ Word Count: 9.6k

・❥・ Summary: His majesty was always fond of you. Little glances here, longing touches there, it was obvious something was going on. When the Queen left the kingdom for a little while, it was finally time. He could finally have you the way he wanted. 

・❥・ Collab: This is part of @erotikkook Kingdom collab! My first collab piece, yay! Thank you so much Levi for finally giving me a reason to write this lol! Please check out the other stories as well! 

・❥・ Now Playing: Earned It by The Weeknd

・❥・ Beta: @xxxanimangxxx thank you so much for reading this so quickly 😭 

・❥・ Author’s Note: HA! I’m back already (hehehehe)~ This was meant to be posted for Joonie’s bday, but things happened… Anyway, fun fact, I got this idea when me and my sister were discussing frozen fanfiction, in particular a very snacky older Hans brother. I owe a lot of these ideas to my sister so shout out to her who helped me come up with this 😩✊🏽 I hope to post a less angsty Joon fic in the near future *hint hint wink wink something might be in the works* :,) Anyway enjoy this y’all ;)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

You never thought of yourself as nosy. You didn’t think your friends nor your family would disagree at this claim, you were honestly more known for being good at staying out of other’s business. However, your job at the palace seemed to challenge this standard you had for yourself. 

You would oftentimes find yourself in the room when important court officials would be having discussions, but you always tried to pay no mind to their words and carried on with your assigned duties. However, you were just a maid to most of these officials and it always seemed like they wouldn’t care if you were dusting a shelf right across the room. You weren’t nosy, but you were human after all. You had ears. 

You often enjoyed the palace gossip, never spreading it yourself necessarily, but you wouldn’t hesitate to take part in the chatter among the other palace staff that seemed to always spread like wildfire.  

Most court officials always made you feel invisible, you didn’t mind it that way honestly, but one managed to snake his way into your life and became a chapter you never would have pictured for your humble existence. 

“Are you sure that is the best idea?” A deep, booming voice reverberated throughout the empty throne room. You tried your best not to turn around. 

“Your majesty, if you must know I have just gotten word from my father detailing my mother’s illness. I think this is enough reason to leave the palace grounds despite what’s going on right now.” Her voice was firm like she wasn’t even asking.

“I understand. Just considering what everyone is saying at the moment, I am worried. How long are you requesting leave?” 

“I hope to return in one month’s time, but depending on my mother’s condition it might be longer.” You could feel his gaze even with your back turned to them both. He wanted you to listen.  

“That is fine by me, just be sure to inform me of your mother’s condition from time to time, send her my dearest regards.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” 

In your peripheral you saw her majesty get up and turn toward the entrance, but she stopped in her tracks and turned around to face him. 

“Your majesty, upon my return I feel it is best to listen to our people. We need an heir.” She spoke plainly, lacking complete emotion. This was just business.  

Silence filled the room for a little while. 

“I will see you in a month.” He too lacked that emotion one would expect from the weight of her statement. 

No more words were exchanged between the couple and soon you heard the door to the room close behind her majesty. 

Happenings at the palace have been quite tense lately. Security has been tighter than ever and the crowds outside the palace have grown more restless by the passing days. Only you know the true reason for the controversy surrounding the newly appointed King. 

It still felt like yesterday when the news of the death of the former King and Queen was spreading around the kingdom. Their son was of age to take the throne, so from a political standpoint the kingdom was secure, but with how sudden their death was, a lot of things needed to be rushed. 

You had recently started working at the palace when it was announced that the newly crowned King would be marrying the princess of Alreda, a neighboring kingdom you had heard the former King had been trying to make peace with. 

Everyone knew that the marriage was more of a political move than anything out of love, but because of his parents, everyone started with high hopes for the new couple. It was infamous across borders the story of the King and Queen of Kleier was a match that started off as nothing more than an arrangement that eventually blossomed into a fiery romance that seemed to spread over the kingdom.

Everyone had hopes for their son as well. 

King Namjoon though was nothing like his parents by far. His last few years of reign were nothing bad, but he was known around the kingdom as a cold, yet thorough, meticulous, and a questionable ruler. Gone was the same light the former King spread over the kingdom, instead was a husk of what was once a kingdom filled with life and love.

No one complained at first however considering the suddenness of the King and Queen’s death. It was like the entire kingdom was still grieving. 

There were some people however that were not as forgiving, demanding immediate perfection from the new King. Recently the topic everyone seemed to talk about was the fact that his majesty had been married to the Queen for 4 years and still had yet to produce an heir. 

It was tradition that the King and Queen were to consummate their marriage and that would bless the kingdom with good fortune while they ruled. It quickly spread around the kingdom that this ‘blessing’ never happened on their wedding night. That’s essentially what started the gossip. 

The fact that they had been married for so long and the Queen wasn’t even with child at the moment caused a bit of an uproar. Their voices grew louder as time passed and they took advantage of people’s grief about the former King and Queen and turned any small concerns they had into even more voices. 

The King and Queen had even been advised to stay inside the palace gates because of safety concerns.   

No one knew why the King had yet to spend the night with the Queen, no one knew why they hadn’t produced an heir yet, no one knew but you. 

As soon as the door closed, you heard footsteps approaching from behind.

They were slow, calculated, and you could feel his gaze piercing through the back of your skull. You could feel your skin starting to burn, but you never faltered in your task of cleaning the relics that lined the throne room. You never turned around, not even when you felt his sturdy chest against your back. 

“Did you hear that?” His voice was low and soft, not at all the same way he spoke with her majesty.

“I’ve been waiting for a time like this to come. I hope you have as well.” You felt shivers go down your spine, every word making you more eager for his touch than you thought possible. You felt his arm snake around your waist, before he pulled you even closer.

It was not out of lust but of longing, the pain of needing to put his role as the ruler of the kingdom first before his own selfish desires. The reason why the King had yet to spend the night with her majesty, was no reason as complicated as what the kingdom had spread. It was simply you. 

It had been the first time you had laid eyes on the King, it had merely been days after you started your job as a maid in the palace. The head maid had been ushering you to the tea room, when you saw him walk down the hallway.

The head maid urged you to make room and bow, but as you felt his presence sweep by, you had looked up curiously to see his majesty and you felt your heart nearly stop when your eyes met. Instead of the strong, powerful, gaze you expected all you saw was how tired he seemed and pain you didn’t quite understand until later. It was in that moment his eyes locked onto yours as he passed by, a moment that felt like an entirety but was really only a few seconds because he stopped right in his tracks to look at you. 

His entire party that followed closely behind, bumped into each other. Everyone was surprised at him suddenly coming to a halt. 

“Who is this?” He questioned the head maid. You had felt your blood run cold wondering if you had made a mistake already. 

“L/N Y/N your majesty, she’s a new maid I’m training.” The head maid had bowed deeper and her eyes remained trained to the ground. Immediately you senesed the terrible blunder you had made already. 

Namjoon’s gaze returned back to you for a second. Part of you expected him to order for you to be thrown in jail or maybe even sentenced to a vicious beheading, but instead his eyes only lingered for a second longer before he was continuing with his party.   

Some may have not expected this interaction to be much, but anytime you happened to work in the same room as his majesty you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being looked at. Every time you were proved right, he was always staring at you. 

It was one fateful day that basically started this predicament. You had been working one late  night and you happened to walk into a room his majesty was in. As soon as you pushed open the doors, you heard the sounds of pained sobs and pitiful whimpers, and that’s when his majesty sitting by the fireplace turned to you and your eyes met once again.  

You apologized and was about to leave but he stopped you and he told you to continue working. His voice was groggy and you only wondered how long he had been crying. While you tried to work in peace your concern for the King got the best of you and you finally had to ask what was troubling him.

This led to you taking a seat right beside him by the fireplace and you let him vent his frustrations out. He went on about how much he missed his parents, how much he did not want to get married to the princess from Alreada, all the overwhelming Kingly duties that had suddenly been sprung onto him, and pretty much everything that he had seemingly bottled up inside his troubled mind since he took the crown. 

You were there and despite you just being a maid, he let you listen to all his struggles almost as if he had just been waiting for someone to ask him that one question for months. 

Things after that changed between you two, what started as making eye contact longer than you knew you were meant to, almost as if to reminisce the memory of the night you shared, slowly grew longer and longer the closer to the day Namjoon was meant to get married. 

You both never said a word to each other, but it seemed as if you both knew exactly what you wanted the moment you looked into each other’s eyes.

You were confused and you sensed the conflict every time you met his gaze, but that didn’t stop the marriage. You sat in one of the furthest back pews in the church that day. You saw that same saddened look as the day you caught him crying alone as he said his “I dos” and his vow to love the princess. 

For a while whatever was happening between you two ceased completely. As much as your heart ached you knew he had a duty and he was put into a marriage he couldn’t escape. Now that his majesty had gotten married it was finally time to put an end to your foolish fantasy, there was no way you could have been together anyway. 

As the months turned into years, you tried your best to move on and focus on serving the King and Queen, but as rumors about their relationship started to spread around the palace, even escaping past the gates, you could not help but think about that night once more. 

The more rumors that spread the more you noticed the signs yourself. You would sometimes walk into them arguing, you saw how distant they were. They were hardly ever in the same room together, let alone a couple that had been married for some time. The more you noticed the more you also started to see the King’s gaze return to yours once more. 

It didn’t stop there. 

Anytime you were alone he would make sure to move closer to you and watch you work, he would talk to you sometimes and you both would be merry and laugh. Whatever moment you shared before he was married was not a dream like you had been convincing yourself over the years. It slapped you in the face one day when you found yourself in a similar position, alone with his majesty. 

It was late and the guards were right outside, but you both stood on the balcony facing the gardens as he held you in his arms. Nothing happened, but you could feel it, feel just how much he wanted you. 

As much as you wanted to push yourself away from his enchanting presence, he was a married man after all and you were merely a maid, but each time you found yourself alone with him, your skin burned and all you wanted was to have him closer. You needed him closer. 

As his majesty pulled away you only wished to pull him close again and have his way with you. 

What did he mean, what was in store for you?

You found out the very day her majesty boarded her carriage. All the palace staff had been called outside to wish her farewell. You hadn’t been too far from the King, and as her majesty stepped onto the carriage you noticed his gaze was always locked onto yours. 

You felt dirty, the Queen being right there ready to embark on a journey to visit her ill mother, yet all you were thinking about was what his majesty, what her husband was going to do to you. 

It was awful, yet at the same time after she left and everyone was heading inside, his majesty stayed behind with you and whispered something in your ear that made you forget about the questionable morality of the situation. 

“Cellar. 2 strikes on the clock. Don’t be late.” 

And you weren’t, while everyone slept you crept out of the maid’s quarters and down to the cellar where he said he would be. You could not be happier to see him waiting for you.

He was still wearing his royal robes, the blue fabric decorated intricately with lighter swirls along with his family crest sewn into the back and shoulders. He was still even wearing his crown. It was almost like he was waiting for you for a lot longer than you thought. 

You hardly had time to fully grasp he was in front of you before he was grabbing onto your arm, pushing you against the wall, cupping your cheeks, and kissing you like he had been holding back for so many years. 

The passion erupted as you clumsily raked your hands over his body, his crown falling off his head, clanking loudly on the ground, but that didn’t sway you both as he picked you up onto a table and hiked up your nightgown. It was quick, you both were conscious of the fact that someone could walk downstairs at any moment but the tension that’s been built over the years didn’t sway you. 

He took you right then and there and despite everything you couldn’t have been happier. 

You found yourself sneaking down to the cellar while most of the palace staff slept more often than not. It was almost as if it was all a dream, a dream both you and Namjoon knew you would have to wake up from sooner than later. The Queen was to return and for some reason you knew that whatever was going on between you and his majesty would have to end. 

Namjoon would finally have to fulfill his duty and give the kingdom an heir. He had a kingdom to take care of and you wouldn’t allow yourself to come in between that because of feelings. A beautiful kingdom going down for something as trivial as this? No, you wouldn’t do that to everyone. 

Instead you let yourself enjoy this time before her majesty returns, let everything end with happy memories before you needed to say goodbye.  

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You weren’t paying any mind to the world around you as you focused on polishing the fireplace. The head maid had always complained whenever she would see it, saying you would always do a lousy job. You were set on impressing her this time so you had been concentrating on all the gold and making sure the fireplace sparkled, you didn’t even notice the sound of the door closing and locking. 

You still didn’t really focus on it until you heard the sounds of slow, calculated footsteps walking toward you. It was at that moment you stopped working, feeling every part of yourself light ablaze just at the mere thought of being in the same room alone. 

As his footsteps drew closer you finally allowed yourself to turn around. You were delighted to see him giving you a warm, dimpled smile and you found it impossible not to smile back at him. He was glorious. 

His red robes were wrapped tightly around his frame making his physique hidden underneath almost on full display. Gold accents lined the fabric, along with the chain wrapped around his shoulders that connected the flowy cape dragging behind him. His crown sitting on top of his head sparkled brightly with the array of jewels that decorated it. The room was illuminated by the various colors, alluring rainbows covered the wall behind him making him appear quite heavenly. You couldn’t help but be enchanted by this one in particular, yet also resent it knowing knowing such a simple piece of headwear was the reason you could never be with him. 

“What are you doing?” his powerful, yet kind voice almost made your knees buckle. You turned back around to the fireplace. 

“Polishing your fireplace, your majesty—“ Your heart nearly stopped when you felt his arms wrap around your waist. 

“Is that so?” He sighed as he buried his head in your neck, enjoying the way you smelled like the flowers in his garden. 

“Yes sir, I was almost done if you wanted me to le–” Your voice was shaky. He was normally never so bold during the day. 

“Mmmm, I think you missed a spot.” You noticed the subtle way his words slurred together and the smell of wine on his breath. You suddenly remembered that he had lunch today with neighboring rulers. 

None of that mattered though, knowing now you had somehow missed a spot again despite your efforts. 

“I did your majesty?” You panicked. 

“Here…” He grabbed a hold of the hand that was holding the rag and slowly guided it to a higher spot on the fireplace. 

“Try going a little harder…” Namjoon said softly before stepping back a little. You did as he said, rubbing the metal a little harder but Namjoon was right behind you again and grabbing onto your hand. 

“Not too hard, just– yeah like that.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and helped you work the rag slowly in a circle. You felt your breath hick when his grip on your waist tightened.  

“Go in a circle like this and with just the right amount of pressure…” He let his words linger and you weren’t sure if it was from how close he was standing, his hand around yours, or the words that made your whole body tingle and you wished nothing more than for him to pull you close. 

He pulled your hand away from the metal and you were delighted to see it sparkle like the rest of the beautifully crafted fireplace. “Look at how pretty it shines.” He smiled, finally letting go of you entirely and made his way to sit on the ottoman that sat at the foot of his bed. 

You turned around and you shivered seeing the way he was looking at you. His gaze was dark and almost… hungry? 

You cleared your throat and bent down to grab a different rag, one that you would use to clean the wooden furniture the King had decorated the palace with over the years. 

You moved closer so you were standing right in front of him, he smirked at you as you got on your hands and knees.

“Sorry your highness, I was going to clean this next. Is that ok?” You looked up at him, an act normally that would get you thrown away, but one you knew the King loved when it came to you. He always told you how much he loved your eyes. 

He chuckled darkly and leaned forward so he was only inches away, you noticed his gaze drift down to your lips and back up at your eyes.

“Don’t let me stop you.” 

Everything, everywhere on your body burned, but you maintained a level head and got to work. You started working your rag along the beautiful wooden legs of the ottoman, making sure to do it just like the King had instructed you earlier, all while maintaining eye contact.

You didn’t exactly know what the aim of this game was, but you wanted him just as hot as you were. 

After thoroughly going over the legs you slowly rubbed the cloth along the wood lining underneath the red cushion. As you got closer you slowed down, but maintained that eye contact. When you were right by his leg, he leaned back and parted his legs further. His gaze challenged you and you didn’t hesitate moving in between his thighs to continue working your rag along the lining.

You made sure to go extra slow, making sure you missed no spot, all to make sure the King knew you knew how to do your job correctly. You didn’t miss the way he bit his lip and tried to move himself closer to your hand, all the while you seemingly paid no mind and simply did your job.

You were about to move on to the other side, but as you scooted away Namjoon grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back. 

He stared into your eyes and then glanced over at the door. You knew if his majesty was here his guards would be standing right outside the door. This little game would just have to end for now, maybe later you could sneak downs–

Namjoon’s hand came up to lightly caress your cheek, you stared at him wide eyed as he used his thumb to gently trace over your features. You glanced over at the door and back at him, wondering what he was doing.

He leaned in closely.

“Stand up.” He commanded. 

You were slightly confused but did as he asked. He got up slowly and looked you right in the eyes.

It was like time stood still for a moment, uncertainty lingering in the air the deeper you looked in his eyes.    

But the tension broke and before you knew it, he was pulling you close and kissing you. You could immediately taste the exorbitant wine on his tongue, the price of one bottle amounting to more than you’d ever be worth in your lifetime. Each time you kissed, the forbiddenness of your relationship would become all you could think about, but every time it always made you so hungry for his touch. You wished you could do this all the time…

You were quick to feel Namjoon’s plead for more as his hands eagerly ran down your dress and kissed you with a more hurried need. Your body was quick to be set alight by his lips against yours, sparks being sent all throughout your body. You needed him closer. 

You both slowly pulled away and the look in his eyes was pained with lust. He almost seemed upset, angry, but you knew that wasn’t it.

His hand came back up to cup your cheek and the other that was resting on your waist pulled you closer. You looked up at him curious as to what he was going to do, and your eyes immediately focused on his lips as he started leaning in. Your heart swelled when his lips gently kissed your cheek, but the sweet moment didn’t last long as he pulled you back toward the ottoman and he took a seat. 

Namjoon grabbed your hand and pulled you so you were standing right in front of him. You stood there as his eyes raked over your form and his hand came up to play with the fabric of your skirt.

That angered expression returned. 

“Take this off.” He looked up at you. His words made you shiver but your eyes quickly darted over to the door where the guards were standing outside. 

“What about–” you started, a little concerned but Namjoon quickly interjected.

“Take it off.” He repeated.

His tone was serious and you knew what he was suggesting wasn’t a good idea, risking the secret that you’ve managed to keep between you two for years getting out. But in that moment you remembered the Queen’s words before she had departed. These last few weeks might very well be the last time you even get to glance in his majesty’s direction let alone be intimate the way you wished you could be all the time. 

This was the end of the road and the fact he was so confident knowing that his guards were merely behind his big ebony doors, you knew he would handle the situation if the word were to spread. You trusted him so much that you reached behind you and tugged at the strings that laced up your dress. 

You looked him directly in the eyes as the fabric started to loosen around your skin, the way his eyes darted around your body eagerly awaiting for the slightest skin reveal. His gaze made you warm and the ache between your legs even more unbearable but you couldn’t hide the excitement at having this power over him.

Your apron hit the floor first, then the outer layer of your dress, and the undercoat that gave the dress its shape. You noticed the labored breathing as more of yourself was revealed to his majesty, the more pained his expression looked, and the more you noticed the tent between his legs become more prominent. 

Once the undercoat was removed all you were left in was your white stockings, garters, and the under dress that hung loosely over your form.

“Please…” You heard him whisper as he finally looked up at you. You didn’t hesitate with removing the last layer, revealing the underwear that was encrusted with his initials. All palace staff had a uniform they were required to wear, everything you wore had his mark somewhere on your body. It was standard palace procedure but in this moment you relished in the thought that it was him who covered up your most intimate parts. 

Namjoon sat up and he quickly let his hands explore the exposed skin, he groaned softly at the way you felt underneath his grasp, almost as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for a second longer. 

You tried to make no noise despite how good his hands felt on your body, but before too long he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you close so he could whisper in your ear. 

“Get down on your knees and serve your King.” The words were filthy, essentially forcing you into complete submission. This was an order. You would have moaned if it wasn’t for the guards outside. You wanted to please him so well, serve your King so well that you instantly dropped down like he wished, eager to make his majesty feel good.

Namjoon looked down at you with hungry eyes as your hands came up and ran over his clothed thighs. He was quick to let you know he was not in the mood for teasing, nor for taking things slow, guiding your hand up to the tie around his waist. 

You didn’t hesitate pulling on the fabric, making sure to maintain eye contact with his majesty. In your peripheral you still noticed his fleeting grip on the ottoman, the red fabric being pulled between his fingers. His head leaned back slightly and even saw his crown tumble clumsily from his head and onto the bed behind him. You were making him a mess before you had truly touched him.

As soon as the tie was undone the King stood up so you were face first with the tent in his pants. He hastily unclipped the chain holding up his fur cape and it draped onto the ottoman. He reached into his pants and you watched with bated breath as you were once again blessed with the sight of his majesty. 

You could not help but stare. No longer being hidden in the darkness of the cellar only lit up by the flickering light of one mere candle, to see him in his full glory, you felt unworthy. You marveled at its slight curve, the way the pink tip leaked and pleaded for you. How his majesty wanted you at all was still a mystery to you as well, you were merely a maid, a maid who had nothing to give him. He had everything to give to you and you stupidly allowed yourself to get mixed up in affairs you knew you had no business in. 

This might very well be the last time you will be blessed with the opportunity of even looking into his eyes. You wanted him to remember you, to remember that there is a maid whose heart he stole, even if only for a short while after the Queen returns.  

Your attention was returned when his majesty reached his hand underneath your chin and pulled you closer to what you have been staring at. The motion forced your eyes to return to his. 

His breath was heavy as he used his other hand to tease his cock between your lips, a primal, guttural moan escaping his lips as you happily opened your mouth and took him whole. 

You watched his eyes flutter shut as you let him get adjusted to the feeling of your mouth before moving back and taking him all once more. 

“Oh– fuck.” He sighed, your mouth feeling too good too quickly. His filthy words made the ache between your legs even worse. The words were filthy, improper, something a King should never say, yet with you he felt comfortable enough to let the title and expectations slip his mind when he was with you. 

Namjoon’s hands hurriedly came up to tangle in your hair, his tight grip made your scalp burn and he forced you into a quicker rhythm. 

His moans were prettier than any tune on the harpsichord ever offered you. For a second you forgot that there were likely people outside listening. Either his majesty didn’t care whatsoever, or he was trying and horribly failing at keeping quiet. 

“So fucking good to me–” He groaned. The words of praise made you want to do better, serve him better. You slacked your jaw so he could more easily push into your mouth, you weren’t prepared for the whine he let out as a result. 

“Ohhhhh…”

You let him fuck your throat completely ignoring the way your eyes started to tear up, instead you focused on his expression and his drunken gaze staring down at you. He seemed amazed, and utterly taken aback by how filthy you are. Your rushed nights together in the cellar was nothing like today. 

His pace started growing more irregular and you knew it would not be long before you could taste his highness.  

Namjoon started to slow down, not yet wanting to finish, but your hands came up to run over his thighs once more trying to keep him from leaving.

“Y/n…” He warned. He didn’t want you to stop either but if he didn’t soon he would–

He finally worked up the will to pull himself out of your mouth, but you did not let him away that easily. Your eyes remained fixed on his as you ran your tongue along the vein and swirled around the tip.

“I’m close, I want–”

“I want to please you, your majesty…” You were practically begging him to finish in your mouth. He stared down at you, taken aback, but he found you incredibly wanton at this moment. It just made the ache worse. 

You teased the tip between your lips, your hand came up and stroked him gently, eager for him to let go. 

His majesty moaned, unable to resist the temptation and pushed his cock between your lips once more. It only took one slow glide of his hips before you felt him release into your mouth. 

In the moment you forgot where you were, the world outside the ebony doors didn’t exist to you anymore. You forgot about the possible consequences of your actions, how the palace staff outside could likely hear you. In that moment it was just you and his majesty, the King was yours and you never wanted it to end. 

You marveled at his soft expression tightening, the strangled moans and unseemly curses that slipped from his lips, the grip on your hair pulling you closer so he could make sure you swallowed every bit of the cum you begged for.

As his high rolled over, his attention returned down to you once more and reached out his hand for you to take it. You grabbed it and stood you up. You ignored how achy and sore your knees felt, choosing instead to focus on his grace and the way he stared at you.

His attention fleeted from your eyes down to your exposed breasts and trailed further down to your garter belt and eventually settled on your panties. His gaze made your skin burn and even more eager for him to finally touch you, you knew he would. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to take a step closer and grab onto your waist. He leaned in close enough that your noses brushed against each other. 

“You perplex me so much Y/n. I’m told you are but a maid, but my heart and body yearn for you as if you were her majesty herself.” It was then that his hands traveled further down until you felt them suddenly grab firmly on your ass. You nearly yelped, his confession so direct and his hands on your body making sure you knew he meant every word. 

“Her majesty is not here and we have only but so much time before my responsibility as the King of this nation must take priority– but right now I want the opportunity to take my time and ravage your body.” You felt every word down below and couldn’t stop yourself when you finally closed the distance. 

You kissed him hurriedly, making sure he knew that you felt the same way and you couldn’t wait for him to take you the way he wanted. Namjoon was quick at getting into rhythm and his hands ran along your body, desperately grabbing at anything he possibly could. 

You fell into his arms, wanting, needing to feel him more closely. You felt him begin to pull at your stockings and panties, you were waiting for him to finally rid them of your body but you could tell he was struggling to remove them. It was then that you remembered you weren’t normally this clothed when you would meet down in the cellar, your nightdress and underwear usually being the only barriers between you two.  

You weren’t prepared for the sudden ripping sound and the coolness of the air on your legs. You finally broke the kiss to look down and saw him ripping your stockings, the force ruining your garter belt. 

Instead of dwelling onto it too much, you aided him in removing your bra as he tugged down your panties down your legs. 

Standing nude in front of him, he looked you over once more before guiding you over the side of his bed and ushering you to take a seat. 

You watched curiously as he hurriedly tugged on the unraveled belt of his pants. You were not prepared for him to order for your hands and begin to tie the belt around your wrist. You were confused yet excited seeing the gleam in his eyes. You knew whatever his majesty had in store for you was more than you deserved.

You were about to ask him what he was doing but the minute his majesty seemed satisfied with the knot he pulled up further up the bed so he could tie the other end around his bed frame post. 

He then ripped the belt that had tied his robe around his waist and did the same to your other wrist. You were bound and at his mercy, he could do anything to you in this position. You did not mind at all though, trusting him completely. 

Once his majesty was done, he moved so he stood at the foot of the bed and just stared at you. His gaze made your skin burn and on instinct you tried to cover yourself up, but with your hands unavailable you could not do much except cross your legs slightly. 

His majesty shook his head at your actions. “Need to see all of you princess.” He whispered quietly, leaning in a little further. 

The nickname was new and you could have melted right there knowing his majesty saw you worthy enough for a nickname as high as the one he decided on. A pedestal higher than you knew what you were worth was enough to give you that little bit of confidence to follow his command. 

Your eyes begged for him and as you spread your legs, it was obvious how much you truly wanted his majesty. You reveled in the way his eyes held desperation as he stared right where you have been wanting him.

“I need you, your majesty…” You pleaded, needing his hands to cool your burning skin. 

Your words visibly got to him, your shy demeanor shedding in favor of something more bold. You knew he knew what you were trying to do and it was clearly working. He desperately threw his robe to the ground and climbed over the ottoman and onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs. 

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a second, the gaze saying more than a thousand words could have in that moment. You both wanted so much more out of this than you knew was possible, but this will just have to make do. 

His majesty leaned in and planted a soft kiss right on your lips before pulling back. You felt a hand run up along your thigh as he leaned in so he was right by your ear. 

“Let me worship you.” His voice was shaky and you were not sure if it was from emotion or of pure need. 

You couldn’t even speak before you felt his hand move from your thigh to between your legs. You were knocked breathless when his fingers ran up your slit and settled on your clit, rubbing gentle circles that made your eyes flutter close and a soft moan escaped your lips. 

You made sure to maintain eye contact as he watched your face intently, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel already. 

“Touch me please, your majesty…” You sighed, leaning up to pull him closer. Namjoon knew what you wanted and leaned in further so he was planting his lips on yours. You were hungry and desperately received him, you knew you caught him off guard but he was quick to match your energy. 

You sighed impatiently when his lips trailed further down to kiss your neck. You were not prepared for the glorious sensation of his mouth when he began sucking lightly on your skin. Every touch he gave made your head spin, but just knowing there was a possibility this might leave a mark, that you might walk out of this room branded by his majesty himself for everyone to see made your heart flutter. 

You pulled lightly on your restraints, wishing so badly in that moment to touch him, but was harshly reminded that was not possible right now.

Namjoon’s lips trailed down further, kissing you down your chest, over your breast, down your stomach and closer and closer to where you craved him.

“Please…” You cried. You probably looked pathetic right now, but you needed him so bad you didn’t even care.  

Namjoon smiled up at you, before quickly leaning in to fulfill your desires. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you steady as his tongue ran up your slit. At this you couldn’t contain your moan.

You had long forgotten that there were likely people standing outside the door, but your own voice surprised you and you hurriedly tried to shush yourself. The consequences of your actions today were nice to pretend did not exist, that you could both walk out of this room hand and hand and everyone in the palace and kingdom would accept your relationship. 

In truth you both were taking so many risks being together like this in the open. It was already risky enough sneaking into the cellar every other night, but to be out like this in broad daylight people might have assumed the Queen returned home early from her trip. 

Affairs happen all the time for court officials of a kingdom, a lot of their marriages are only ways to advance their political careers so having “someone else” wasn’t uncommon. If this was a normal case people wouldn’t bat an eye at your relationship with his majesty especially considering this was more than your average affair. It was the heart that pulled you both together, not the lustful demon that resided inside you both. 

But this wasn’t the normal case. The people, after experiencing a loving King and Queen, wanted that once again and seemingly wouldn’t settle for less. His Majesty had to give his heart to the Queen in order to avoid a possible rebellion. You simply can not exist. 

You tried to shush yourself as his tongue got to work pleasing you, he knew your body so well after only a few weeks.  

You wished desperately to reach your hands down into his hair like you usually would, but the grip on your wrists once again reminded you were bound and completely at his majesty’s mercy.

You cried out as he eagerly lapped at your folds before he leaned back and let his fingers run through your slick once more.

“Marvelous…” He quietly mumbled to himself, finally getting a great view between your legs.

You didn’t have any time to feel embarrassed at all before two of his fingers were inside you and suddenly it became impossible to be quiet with the way his majesty curled his fingers, hitting a spot he knew all too well made it hard for you to be quiet.

You tried to shush yourself once more, but a glance down to the King himself made you realize this was all intentional. His eyes were locked on your expression and his subtle smile whenever you would moan out for him made it obvious. For some reason he wanted you to scream for him, despite the guards who were standing outside or any passersby he still wanted to hear you.

The revelation made that growing ache down below even worse.

“P–Please, your majesty…” You moaned, hoping he would put you out of your misery soon. You heard a low chuckle before the situation somehow managed to get even worse. His majesty showed you no mercy and made sure everyone in the palace would hear you scream.

He used his tongue along with his fingers, his thumb circling your clit and his tongue had made its way inside you. He would switch, suddenly his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside you. It was too much, he was too good to you and the emotion you felt had that cord inside you wanting to snap.

“Your-your majesty, I–”

“Cum for me princess.” The nickname and his voice was the last thing you needed before your whole body surged with excitement, pleasure flooding all of your senses. It was so good, his majesty was just so good to you, you could hardly believe it when you were able to open your eyes to see the majestic painting that decorated the entire ceiling and to feel the soft sheets on your back.

You were in his majesty’s room and… you glanced down to see his adorable smile looking up at you. Right, he was so sweet to you. 

That dopey expression fleeted quickly though as he reached up and began untying the knots that were around your wrists. 

“So pretty… Everyone in the palace likely heard you princess. You know this is meant to be a secret. I feel like I need to make sure you understand that.” At first you were confused by his words, he knew you were trying your best to quiet yourself, but the smirk on his face told you he was not being serious.

Oh. You understood what was going on.

The minute he was able to wrangle you free, he guided you so you were on your hands and knees in front of him. You couldn’t stop the excitement building up once again at the thought of what could be in store for you next. 

That excitement was raised when you felt the dip in the bed rise and turned around to see his majesty hurriedly tugging down his pants. You felt your face flush the minute you caught sight of his cock springing free and instinctively turned back around. 

 The bed dipped once more and it didn’t take long for you to feel the slow drag of his cock along the swells of your ass, your body shivered and you wanted to scream for him to finally get inside you.

You heard him curse lightly, making you turn around to see his eyes glued to the mounds and you felt his hand come up, run up your thigh before lightly grabbing at your ass.

“So fucking pretty… you’ll be good right? I promise to have you, but first I must…” He didn’t finish his sentence and you were about to question him until you felt a firm slap right across your cheeks.

You yelped, not at all expecting that nor the increased desire you felt to finally have him.

“Count to 10 for me princess, I promise I will fuck you right after.” He almost moaned as he softly rubbed the irritated skin.

You wanted to please him. 

“1.” 

SLAP!

So good, you needed him inside you. This punishment was less of one than a chance to have his hands on you. 

You loved it.

“2…”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The two guards looked at each other worriedly. The King had said that he was tired after his meeting earlier. He said the wine was getting to him and the guards simply expected a long, but boring rest of their shift. 

What they didn’t expect was merely a few minutes after the door closed behind him, were for moans of his majesty to be heard. That wasn’t the concerning part though. What had them worried was hearing the sound of moans of a woman on the other side of the door.

It became obvious that they were witnesses to an affair. With how rocky the political climate was, they both knew if word were to get out about this, there would be horrible consequences in store.

“Excuse me.” The voice startled them both, but they were relieved to see it was only the King’s right hand. 

“Yes sire.” One of the guards said, standing at attention.

“I have an urgent message for the King.” Jae-su declared– Namjoon’s right hand, someone that’s almost been like a second father to him. Usually it was only protocol to declare the purpose of entering the King’s chambers and as the palace staff all knew him so well, nothing more was needed.

Jae-su was surprised when the spears the guards were holding crossed over each other, preventing him from entering. 

“I’m sorry sire, but now may not be the best time–”

Muffled from inside the room was the clear sound of a female's voice inside, seemingly moaning a number. 

Jae-su looked at the guards confused and they clearly seemed worried. 

“No one has entered, but there seems to be someone else inside but his majesty.” The other guard said, slightly panicked. 

Normally this would just warrant Jae-su to walk away and be sure to give his majesty a stern talking to about his behavior, but he was carrying a red sealed letter, something that was meant to be delivered to his majesty immediately. Unfortunately he could not simply walk away and deal with this later.

“I’m sorry gentlemen, but this is a red sealed letter. This must get to his majesty immediately.” He tried to keep his professional front on, but he was clearly flushed.

The guards looked at each other worriedly, before moving their spears.

Jae-su stepped closer to the door and hesitantly knocked. 

“Your majesty, it’s me. I’ve come to deliver you some news.” He called out. 

There was silence for a little while before his majesty finally answered. “Jae-su, this isn’t the best time right now. Can’t you not come back later?” Namjoon questioned.

“Unfortunately not your majesty, this is a red sealed letter from the Queen.”

More silence passed.

“Come in then.” As much as he didn’t want to, his duty had him turning the door knob and opening the door.

Jae-su still had hope that this was some big misunderstanding, but when he went inside he was horrified to see clothes strewn about the room, his majesty’s crown upside down on the ottoman by his bed and right there on the bed was his majesty and a woman together in a less than pure position.

Jae-su nearly screamed when he heard the slapping sound as he walked around the bed to his majesty’s nightstand. 

“8…” You moaned softly. Your cheeks were burning, the right hand seeing you like this was embarrassing, but you also couldn’t help feeling a little fluttery at the thought of Namjoon being so comfortable letting someone in on your little secret.

You wanted to imagine that after all this somehow this might have a happy ending, it was nice to think about.

“I’m sorry your majesty, but this is from the Queen. It details about her soon return and I would suggest you read it immediately.” Jae-su said, sitting the letter on the little silver platter on the nightstand. 

SLAP!

You were taken aback and so was Jae-su at the continuation of your punishment. “9…” you tried to quiet yourself.

“Thank you Jae-su, I’ll read it as soon as I’m done.” Namjoon sighed, taking a fistful of your ass.

“Right… I’m sure you will… your majesty, I’m sure you’re aware that this is an issue. We must talk.” Jae-su said firmly. It was then that the reality of your little fun came crashing down. Those consequences you tried to pretend didn’t exist were made oh so obvious. 

“Please leave. I’m busy Jae-su.” Namjoon sounded frustrated. Jae-su quickly sensed this and hurried his way out the room. 

Silence lingered for a little while, part of you was sure he’d stop, the moment shared being broken by reality. But you were surprised to feel him grab onto your hips tightly before pulling you back onto his cock. 

You both moaned at the feeling, all this playing leading up to this moment. Finally, finally you had him inside you and you never wanted him to leave. 

“Feel-feel so good m’lady…” Namjoon shakily breathed out. He tried to take in as much as he could, the warmth your walls provided, the way you gripped him like you never wanted to let go, your soft sighs of pleasure. You were absolutely perfect in his eyes, he didn’t, he couldn’t let you go. 

After he let you get adjusted, he slowly pulled back his hips before pushing back in. His steady pace turned punishing, almost desperate, quite quickly. You felt so good around him and he wanted everyone to know.

He relished in the way you cried his name. He wanted everyone in the palace to know you were his. If it wasn’t for this stupid fucking marriage he was forced into, you would be. If his parents were still around they wouldn’t have made him marry the Queen, as soon as he would have told them his heart belonged to you, you would have become his bride instead. 

Namjoon felt tears pricking his eyes at the thought, but he shook them away, instead he wanted to focus on you as this could possibly be your last night spent together. 

“Your maj-majesty!” You cried, your hips high up while your face was buried in the pillow gripping onto the fabric tightly. 

“So good to me princess.” Namjoon sighed, hastily pulling your hips back to meet his. He was close and so were you. 

Namjoon could stand it no longer and quickly pulled out and flipped you back over so you were laying on your back. You were a bit taken aback by this, but the minute he pushed his cock back into you, suddenly that did not matter anymore.

If anything it made things better. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he continued to pound into you. 

He clumsily leaned down to meet your lips, kissing you like his life depended on it. In some ways it did. 

His hurried pace was starting to falter making you realize he was close. 

Namjoon pulled away, his gaze trained on your eyes and every little expression you would make. 

“Y/n–” He rushed out. 

“Yes, your highness…”

“Say it…” It was a command, but he sounded so desperate to hear what he wanted.

“What–what your maj–” 

“My name, please I want to hear you say my name.” You and him both knew what this meant. No one of your status was allowed to simply call the King by his first name. The only one in this palace who had that pleasure was her majesty. 

You stared up at him, taken aback by his words.

“Please, please, please– so close–” He begged, his majesty was begging you to say his name. 

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, pulling him as close as you could. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good Namjoon, please cum for me…” If anyone heard you outside of this room you would surely be beheaded but his name falling from your lips and your crude language was enough to have him spilling into your warm embrace without any notice.

You helped work him through it, rubbing his back lightly as he moaned softly into your neck. 

He took a moment to calm himself down before he was pulling back to stare at where your bodies connected, his thumb coming down to hastily rub on your clit once more. 

You were shocked but your body reacted instantly, it did not take too long before your orgasm was hitting you once again so suddenly. It felt good, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes your body cried out for Namjoon. 

He helped work you through yours as well, slowly moving his hips as you started to come down from your high.

For a minute you both just sat there, staring into each other’s eyes, but Namjoon was quick to bend down once again and kiss you. He kissed you with all the passion, yearning, and love he had for you.

For a minute he wanted to pretend like the world outside his ebony doors didn’t exist, that he didn’t have responsibilities that were going to keep him away from you. 

But alas, he found himself eventually pulling away to read the letter sent to him by his wife. 

Namjoon stared at the fancy penmanship, reading the words and not wanting to believe them.

Her mother was now well and she is to be returning in three days. 

Namjoon crumbled up the letter and went back over to you who was staring at him, wondering what the letter said. Instead of answering immediately he put the both of you underneath the covers and pulled you close. 

“Your– Namjoon, what did it say?” His name sounded so pretty from your mouth. 

This time he couldn’t stop the tears he felt coming into his eyes. 

“We don’t have much time left– let’s not think about it though. I find greater pleasure holding you close like this.” He smiled at you, but you could see his eyes starting to well up.

Instead of pushing further on the subject you let yourself relax in his arms. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him, but you knew that would only make things worse. You hope he knows how much you love him and will continue to do so even after the Queen becomes with child.

You would cherish today for a lifetime.

#bts #bts smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfiction #rm fanfic #bts fanfic #bts rm #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fan fiction #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon angst #bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #bts one shot #rm #namjoon one shot

[lnkedmyheart]

can you name every time in which dazai has expressed care for chuuya?

Sure, I can try. Dazai has a unique brand of care and it shows less as the more obvious show of affection and more as an interest in people. Lets go chronologically

Dazai's irritation at the meeting with the sheep in 15. He has imo already started his own weird bonding ritual with Chuuya by that point and wants him as his personal friend, his dog in Dazai lingo cause he is a moron. He gets irked at the way Shirase, and by extension the sheep, make demands of Chuuya. That being said, this is still early and he more or less just uses this info to exploit for later.

Dazai's fascination from the GSS squad vs Chuuya fight develops into Dazai wanting to keep living. And I think that is some kind of care because Dazai legit is vibing with the guy by this point. Him wanting Chuuya to be assigned to him and not Koyou and printing out newsletters about him etc all seem to point towards some weird way of wanting to be on talking terms with him.

In stormbringer Dazai carrying Chuuya all the way across the city to the Old World so he can see Albatross and hear his final words is very important to me.

Dazai's growing agitation at them not getting to Chuuya in time during his capture. Its not as noticeable but he was uncharacteristically insistent.

Dazai's insistence on Chuuya's humanity in general.

Dazai's entire plan in sb was so he could get his hands on details about Chuuya. Like he flat out admits that Mori and the mafia dont really matter to him here and Chuuya even understands that.

That one scene when Guivre first appears and Dazai whispers to Chuuya to not look. An underrated scene imo.

The very well known scene where Dazai gives Chuuya a genuine choice and was willing to put the entire city at risk because he believes Chuuya has a right to his humanity and past. Also him explicitly laying out everything in front of Chuuya.

Obviously him catching him as he fell and holding him or whatever. But also another underrated scene where when Chuuya feels lost at the care shown to his person by Adam in the epilogue Dazai has the softest most fond reaction.

In the day I picked up Dazai he talks about Chuuya to Oda. I think its cute.

Onto dragon head now: Dazai completely flipping from completely unbothered about the war to deciding enough was enough when Chuuya calls him out with a punch and is genuinely mad at him. He is very subdued throughout the manga panels. He doesn't evem tease him. Him quietly accepting that Chuuya needs to use corruption and despite him telling Dazai not to stop him he nullifies corruption by touching his face and then letting him rest on his lap and even puts his hat on his head. Hell Dazai's entire perception of events changes because of Chuuya, from making light of the colonel's death to angrily telling Shibusawa that he had crossed a line with that act. Also Dazai's "get shot and die" line is explained to be a code warning Chuuya of an incoming grenade.

Onto the manga timeline: Dazai is generally far nicer and more civil with Chuuya than any of the mafia members post defection. He gives Chuuya a choice with Lovecraft again, he is very gentle with Chuuya when nullifying corruption, not letting go of him till he knows Chuuya would be able to handle his own weight unlike with say Atsushi. He folds his clothes and brings his hat back. Note that the hat is very important to Chuuya.

Dead apple has Dazai's face when he touches Chuuya to nullify him and then holding him down post corruption. And the sheer trust he has in a Chuuya to follow through on a plan that was never discussed. And Chuuya's hat magically appearing in his line of sight when he leaves. Also you can't tell me he doesnt care when he makes that face.

Dazai's anger at Fyodor bringing Chuuya to Meursault is self explanatory, his bond being questioned is too but particularly his whole speech in 101 where he starts thinking back on their moments is proof enough that he genuinely cares about Chuuya in some weird obsessive way.

#soukoku

[petterwass]

Ho'olheyak really is quite the tragic figure once you read her file, isn't she?

For all her being very funny and her inexhaustible Bug Bunny energy, she really has been through so much, forced into a generations-long project that she never asked for, as a mere infant.

Is a small baby she was subjected to some sort of horrible brain surgery that forced the entirety of her species history into her brain and drastically cut down her lifespan, which is implied to be both very traumatic (only a infant could possibly survive it because once a child is old enough to have a sence of "self" it would have been completely obliterated along with their mind) and with incredibly high mortality (As Warfarin puts it: "I don't want to ask her how, many siblings she *had*).

All to force her to continue her family's generations-long project to restore the bloodline powers of the ancient ku'kul'kan.

While she maintains that the brain surgery does not in any force her to do this, she could if she wanted to, drop the entire thing. But I wonder how true that is.

After all, the sunk cost fallacy is real, and once you've already paid with half of your life, what choice is there really but to continue the work? To to otherwise would be to say that the price you paid was not worth it. That the price your mother paid, and her mother before her, going back hundreds if not thousands of years, was not worth it. That the goal they worked towards is not worth trying to achieve. That the sacrifice that was forced upon you has no meaning.

Which child, implanted with scenes of your people's lost grandeur and raised from birth for this single mission, could really say that they are doing it of their own free will? That they had a choice, when they were selected to pay the price for it even before they were born?

One wonders also, how this has created the Ho'olheyak we know. How different would she be if she did not have her people's history rattling around in her brain since before she could talk?

It also explains in a way, her wanting up always work alone. After all, who else could understand the importance of her mission, how everything and everyone can be sacrificed on its altar if need be, than the one who has already paid the highest price for it, and who can literally feel the wingsbeats of ancient ku'kul'kan in her mind? Who else could ever understand.

And that's not getting into her equipment, how each part of the gear she carries is intended to mimic a trait of the mythical Ku'kul'kan, how this burden she carries is literally too heavy to bear without using her arts to lighten it (her exoskeleton alone weighs over 90 kilograms. Without using her arts to lighten it, she would not be able to move). How perhaps the burden of reviving a extinct bloodline would be too much to bear for any human, except perhaps, one created for that express purpose with Arts and brain surgery, to be the perfect, or indeed, the only possible banner-bearer that could endure the weight of generations of sacrifice towards a single cause? Maybe I'm reading up much into it but the parallels are there.

And in the end, soon enough, as her drastically shortened lifespan runs out. She will breed, likely several times to endure she has backup infants (and isn't that a cold-blooded thought? "the first one might not survive, better make more") . And she will subject her infants to the same horribly invasive and lethal brain surgery as was done to her. Until one of them survives. And that one will carry on the project. That one surviving baby will bear the torch. Will burn their life from both ends.

Of her own free will.

You can probably draw a lot of interesting parallels here. Both to the greatness of multi-generational work: "I plant a tree so my grandchildren can sit in the shade", but also to continuing cycles of abuse: "This, was done to me. I will do it to my children in turn. And they to their children. And the one that survived will carry on the torch."

I don't know. I just think she's incredibly fascinating and interesting once you get beyond the first, obvious outer layer of Sexy Fucked Up Evil Snake Woman.

There's really a lot there. And I love her. She is so very much more fucked up than you initially think she is.

#Arknights #ho'olheyak #Fucked up #Evil woman #Snake #Arknights Ho'olheyak #Character analysis #Thematics

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

the Skin-suit au,, a tale of readerbot and body horror 💕💕💕

(could also be called the Hello Again au uwu)

Basically! Yknow how it’s been canonized that the security breach location has a scooping room?? Well that got me thinking! And basically, What if Readerbot pulled an Ennard?

There's some kind of big 'accident' at the 'plex- all you know is there are dead people on the floor, there's an alarm going off somewhere, and you know, with a sinking feeling and a growing terror, that you, and every other animatronic in this place, are doomed for deconstruction. Whoever it was that killed these people- oh, god, these people... what had they even done, for this to have been done to them? Anything?- has officially doomed this place. There will be no walking back from this. Someone somewhere is screaming. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought it was you; more than ever, you know that if you had a voice box you would have screamed until it broke. You're scared, of course you're scared- you don't want to be deconstructed, to be dismantled down to your bare parts and tossed or repurposed. You're not alive, you know that, of course you do, but the fear feels as real as the blood soaking the bottoms of your feet. You don't want to die. But what could you do? There's no where you could hide, not in this place, especially not if... he, thought you deserved the dismantling the rest of your kind would be getting and decided to hunt you down himself. You can't just run, you're not fast, and where would you go? There would be nowhere in the world for a staff-bot, not even one meant to fix things. You're not a human- you'll never know that kind of freedom, to run and hide and go wherever you wanted... You stare down at the bodies, at the way your shadow falls over them. You're not a human, but... Out of all the animatronics in the 'plex, you're one that looks the most like one. And the 'plex has an old machine, down in the subbasement. The kind that used to be used to take endoskeletons out of their shells.

You hate yourself with every fiber of your being as you drag one of the people down to the old, boarded up room. You hate the feeling of the cold, dead weight scraping across the floor as you lay them in the center of the desolate space. You hate the sound of the machine coming to life and the dull crunch of it doing it's intended purpose. You hate the color red, and you hate the wet, heavy feeling of the disguise you are forcing yourself into. Then the clothes... You were never allowed to wear clothes, maybe a hat if you were lucky. You find that you hate wearing clothes. You hate the way you've contorted your body into this... suit. You hate what you've done to create it. But you can hear sirens outside, now, and people screaming. You don't want to die. So, wearing the skin of a person who never asked to be killed, you run, and hope that the person who owned this skin, whoever they were, will understand what you've done and have a little pity on you. But you are not a person. You are not alive.

Years later, you've found ways to hide in plain sight. It's not that different from what you did when you worked at the 'plex, really, only now you're wearing your newest 'disguise' and several layers of clothes on top of that, and no one knows that really you're an animatronic gone AWOL. You can go out early in the morning or late at night and purchase the little things you need, or find something broken but interesting and take it home to fix it up. Later, you can sell these things to get the money you need to stay in places and buy other small things you can use to fix other things. It's a small life, but it's... yours. You don't have any friends, and no one really talks to you like you are one of them, but that's okay. The story you have to explain your silence and whatever other oddities you display is that you grew up with a 'condition.' You've started to carry around an old handheld that you can type sentences into and then have it say them aloud, at least until you've perfected your make-shift voicebox a little more. It's still a work in progress, but having your own voice was something you'd always dreamed of...

Sometimes you need to fix yourself. Your legs hadn't been built to last forever, especially not in the real outside world like this. So, sometimes, you had to search through old scrap yards for pieces and parts you could use. It was... gruesome work, yes, but you liked to think that these strangers didn't mind you using what was left of them. In a way, it helped to think that you were... helping them to live on, in some weird, morbid way.

You were on one of your junk-yard expeditions when you found a couple of crates marked through with 'DEFUNCT- DESTROY IMMEDIATELY' and, getting your hopes up, decided to pry them open. When you saw the insides, you paused. You looked again at the writing on the crates- faint and worn out, almost invisible under the 'defunct' stamps, you could just make out the old Freddy Fazbear's logo.

You spent hours combing through the containers one by one, stuffing things into your pockets and loading up your duffle with odd miscellaneous things that brought back such clear memories you could practically hear the band on the stage, the happy cries and laughter of the kids, the cheerful banter of the other animatronics... You found an old Monty toy that had once opened and closed its jaws at the push of a button, but the spring had long since broken or fallen out entirely. It was very sad looking, discolored and worn, but it still had his glasses. You stuffed it into your jacket. You didn't want to dwell on the choking sadness these things brought to you, but to leave them here would hurt even more.

And then you had broken open the last one, and, amongst the shreds of soggy paper and bits of debris, lay a familiar animatronic.

The daycare attendant, after all this time, had found you again- or, really, you had found him.

(skinsuit!readerbot takes the dca home and tries to fix them up, only to realize that they don't recognize them as the old staffbot from the 'plex, nor do they realize that they aren't human. shenanigans ensue,, including at some point Sun sees readerbot take the skin off their hand, fix a stuck joint, then put the skin back on. Moon does not believe him)

(yes they all fall in love)

(im a basic bitch ok leave me alone idk what u were expecting)

#fanfic ideas #fic concepts #writing snippet #long post #fanfic short #fnaf au #fnaf readerbot au #repairbot reader au #readerbot au #skin suit au #tw gore #tw body horror #fnaf sun/moon x reader #bones of a rabbit fic #bones of a rabbit fnaf #horror #body horror #au ideas #fic ideas #fnaf fanfic #it starts with ur just a staffbot of no consequence #and it comes full circle back to 'ur a person trying to fix sun/moon' #like yknow how thats like a genre of sun/moon x reader fics???? yea #idk i think its kinda neat oKAY SDFHSJDHF

[angelynmoon]

More Eldritch Steve, (I really do need to name this Au) because I couldn't leave you hanging like that.

Thank you for all your guesses.

Part 7

-

Wayne knows that Steve is Other the moment he sees him, he's always had a sense for these things, ever since he was young.

He knew, long before Eddie's father stole his first candy bar, that the man was a bad egg, knew that he'd end up dead or in jail, the man was lucky that he got caught by the police before Wayne could get at him for what he'd done to Eddien he was lucky he was safe in jail and Wayne made sure the man knew it.

But Wayne doesn't say anything, never has, no one but the old bloods would believe him, if he had cared to, the Harrington name carried too much weight, not that it mattered, Emilia Harrington would protect her son until the day she died, Steve had chosen his family wisely.

But Wayne knew, and he could see Steve look at him and know that Wayne knew what he was.

Wayne saw his considering look, the way he nodded like it explained so much, and perhaps it did, at least for Steve.

But Steve said nothing, shook Wayne's hand with a small, close mouthed smile, nonthreatening, almost welcoming even.

And Wayne couldn't help smiling back, wide mouthed and threatening because he didn't care what Steve had done to protect Eddie, he was still the boy's father, more than his blood one had ever been, and he had to make sure Steve understood that.

Steve merely tilted his head in a nod and looked at the teenaged children playing that game Eddie was so fond on in the center of Steve's living room.

"We're the last." Steve told Wayne, softly, "I killed the rest for killing my spawn, I understand."

Wayne looked at Steve, really looked at him and saw what he'd been before Wayne had left the Down Below so long ago.

Small, unassuming creature, the one that liked demobats and demogorgans, easy meal, the thought ran through Wayne's mind, as it had so many times before.

But all things had a breaking point, all things had that one thing they would destroy worlds for.

Wayne nodded as Steve looked at Eddie with something akin to love in his eyes, it wasn't the same as a human's love, no theirs was deeper, more possessive, thier love was dangerous in ways only a human psycopath's love was, obsessive and eternal.

Eddie would never be permitted to have another, and Steve would never let him leave him, their kind may not need another to spawn but when they paired it was for life.

Oh, Wayne was going to have to have a talk with Eddie, one he had hoped never to have.

Eddie may not be Wayne's blood but Wayne had raised him, it made sense that Eddie would attract Steve.

Like calls to like afterall.

-

A/n; i need you all to know that i did not even consider Argyle because in my head they met when Jonathan and the rest of the Cali Crew arrived, but i can see it.

The other one was always Wayne to me, and part of me is pleased that he wasn't anyone's guess because yeah.

Also that throwaway comment he made about nothing human being able to do that to Chrissy made me think that maybe he knows things, thus Eldritch Wayne, I'm not tagging it so people can be shocked.

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta

#eldritch monster steve #upside down creature steve #steddie undertones #Wayne Munson #protective Wayne Munson #of sorts #i will eventually put this on ao3 #maybe #part 7 #From the Rot

[sashaisready]

The ‘You’ Problem - One Shot

Beefy!Bucky x Female!SHIELD!Reader

*bangs clipboard* ONE BED! ONE BED! ONE BED!

Guys…I threw this together today on a whim. Apologies in advance for the utterly self indulgent fluff with a bit of smut thrown in for good measure. You’ve got all my fave tropes here - one bed, forced proximity, misunderstandings and bad communication, grumpy and sunshine..

In my mind this is Beefy!Bucky (CW era Bucky) but you are of course invited to envisage your favourite Bucky. There is a slightly silly plot point about him being thicc (lmao). Reader is female, not physically described.

I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

warnings: bit’o’smut

Wordcount: around 4.4k (lol)

🛏️

You could see his face fall as he opened the door. Your eyes followed his past the safe house entrance and inside through to the open plan cabin. 

All on one floor. A small kitchenette, basic but seemingly clean at least. A cheap, plastic dining table with a few dingy chairs tucked into the far corner. A crumpled leather sofa that had seen better days. A battered old door at the rear that you assumed lead to the bathroom (you hoped, anyway). A large fireplace with a basket of logs next to it - merciful after a long trek out in the cold air. And- Oh. 

Oh. 

A double bed in the middle of the space. 

A bed. As in…singular. One. 

It didn’t take a Mathematician to work out the equation of two people plus one bed and what that equalled.

Especially when one of those people seemed particularly prickly towards the other, for reasons the other didn’t fully understand.

Tonight would be the most awkward night’s sleep of your life. 

“Great…” growled Bucky sarcastically as he reluctantly crossed the threshold, dropping the duffle bags of equipment by the fireplace.

“Hmm, homely” you chirped, hoping a joke might ease the tension. Of course he didn’t respond. 

You dropped your gaze as he began stripping his tactical gear off, piling it onto the arm of the couch. He tugged off his boots and wordlessly headed to the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

You sighed heavily. He must’ve said ten words to you in total on this mission. The mission itself had gone well, at least. You had got the intel you needed and neither of you had been compromised in the process. You had got in and out. As a SHIELD agent you didn’t normally work with the Avengers directly in the field, but Stark and Steve had put you on this one with Bucky because of his stealth skills and your knowledge of tech and a particular comms device that was difficult to master - even for the best heroes in the biz. 

You knew them all. Well. Ish. You saw them around the tower. Helped them with surveillance and intel. Most of them were sweet and chatty, nothing like the mythical, two-dimensional hero figures the media portrayed them to be. Sure, they were brilliant at what they did but they were also warm. Flawed. Human. Steve was a sweetie, Tony was an egomaniac but he could hold a conversation at least. Nat was a great ally to have but an even better friend. Sam made you laugh like nobody else. They were your friends. 

Well. Almost all of them. 

Bucky had never really…well…warmed to you. You remember the first day Steve had introduced you both, you had eagerly outstretched your hand to shake his and you watched as his nervous eyes flitted between your hand and Steve. He finally took it reluctantly, muttering a hello as he quickly dropped your hold and stormed off. 

And that was that. You had tried to get to know him but he simply wasn’t interested. He’d only speak to you if he absolutely had to for work, grunted if you asked him something and seemed to do everything in his power to keep a wide berth between the two of you. At first you assumed it was because of what he’d been through, brainwashed assassins carrying the weight of their trauma are hardly known for their perky attitude and charismatic social skills. Maybe he just had a problem with people... 

But you soon noticed he wasn’t really like that with anyone else. Sure, he was prickly and a bit sarcastic, but he engaged. He talked. He laughed. God, you loved his laugh. Sweet. Unencumbered. Slightly dorky. It made you smile on the rare occasions you were lucky enough to hear it. 

He would squabble with Sam. Bond with Steve. Train with Nat. You thought maybe it was because you were just an agent, but he was better with the others. Always reserved, sure, but he’d chat to your SHIELD colleagues. He’d ask them for help with the tech. You were pretty sure he flirted with Emily, another agent on your team, and you couldn’t ignore the quiet thrum of jealousy in your stomach when you heard them chatting animatedly about pizza toppings or that time you caught her sliding her hand over his vibranium arm..

…no. He didn’t seem to have a people problem. Just a ‘you’ problem. 

You weren’t sure what you’d done to upset him, and you were too embarrassed to ask Steve in case you looked whiny and desperate. It wasn’t really a good look for a SHIELD agent to pathetically ask an Avenger why his friend didn’t like her. This wasn’t high school. 

You had a reputation for being a bit sunshine-y. You were always quite cheery at work, doing your best to put a brave face on and inject optimism where you could. It was just how you’d always been. It kept you going. Service with a smile. The world was a dark place, and you figured a little extra light was no bad thing. Maybe Bucky took offence to it, writing you off as a perky airhead. Maybe he’d seen too much death and destruction to see the world the way you did, and you simply annoyed him because of it. 

Only the man himself knew the real reason. You’d accepted you may never be sure. So you did your best to work with him, pretending not to notice his snarky comments and unimpressed looks. Smiling through your pain like always. Generally it was easy, you didn’t spend much time with him anyway.

…Until you were stuck on a mission with him. Waiting for the quinjet in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a tiny cabin in the dead of winter, with one bed and only the man who hated you for company. 

The man you also had a teensy bit of a crush on, too. Yes, it wasn’t ideal to crush on the one person who seemed to loathe you, but clearly you were a dumbass. 

You were rudely pulled from your thoughts by a loud spluttering and spitting noise. It took you a second to realise it must be the cabin’s creaky pipes warming up, so Bucky was showering. You did your best not to think about him all naked and soaped up and wet and-

You flung your laptop open and got to work uploading the files from the mission, sending your report over to head office and sending a quick summary to Stark. At least there was signal out here. Working is good. Only productive thoughts. No room for shower thoughts. 

You were so engrossed in your emails that you didn’t hear the bathroom door swing open behind you. 

“Bathroom’s free” said a gruff voice that made you jump in surprise.

You whipped around to face him and did your best to keep your eyes from falling out of your head when you were faced with Bucky fresh from the shower. Small water droplets ran down his chiselled chest, his long hair damp and falling in soft tendrils, a perfectly prominent ‘V’ pointing down to you-know-where, all topped off with the tiniest towel known to man clinging to his hips. The hardest working piece of fabric you’d ever seen.

You felt your face flush and nodded overly enthusiastically. 

“G-great, thanks” you mumbled.

He seemed to oblivious to your discomfort so you took that moment to dash to the bathroom yourself, leaning against the door after you’d closed it and doing your best to keep it together. You just needed to get through the night. The quinjet was coming to get you in the morning. You could do this. You could survive tiny towels and fresh soaped abs until then. 

You took your sweet time showering, ignoring the mildewy tiles and inconsistent water temperature to spend as much time hidden in the bathroom as possible. You finally admitted defeat and emerged, drying yourself with one of the threadbare towels and changing into some sweats.

“Was about to contact HQ and tell them you’d drowned in the bathroom” Bucky deadpanned as you re-entered the main cabin. He didn’t look up, his eyes locked on his phone as he laid on the bed. Bucky in bed. He was dressed in dark sweats, the fresh smell emanating from him almost intoxicating.

“I just…like to be clean after a mission” you replied, your voice slightly wobbly. 

He nodded, his eyes flickering up to yours. “Yeah, I get that” he mumbled.

This was probably the most you’d spoken to each other all afternoon. You suppressed your surprise.

“You tired?” He asked, his tone almost interrogating. He seemed wide awake. You supposed super soldiers didn’t really need as much sleep as mere mortals did. 

“Mm. A little” you responded, trying to appear nonchalant and not show how desperate you were to curl up and pass out. Not that you thought you could in such close proximity to him.

In an attempt to appear relaxed you stretched your arms and inadvertently knocked a little wooden pinecone ornament off the small side table next to you. It flew almost comically across the room, bouncing on the floor and smashing against the kitchen cabinet (thankfully remaining intact).

The silence was heavy. Bucky raised an eyebrow as you quickly scuttled and retrieved it, hastily putting it back in place. You could’ve sworn his face betrayed a sliver of amusement but it quickly moulded back to his standard-issue stoicism.

“They confirmed that the jet will be here at 0730 tomorrow” he murmured, looking back at his phone. 

The fact he hadn’t acknowledged your faux pas made it even more embarrassing. You nodded quickly and tried to ignore the sudden heat in your cheeks. 

Fortunately the evening progressed with no other embarrassments. You both had a dinner of instant noodles in silence, then spent some time separately tying up the loose ends on your respective mission duties - sending emails, debriefing Steve on the phone. You don’t think Bucky smiled even once.

Your heart thumped in your chest as it got later and darker, until you could no longer avoid the elephant in the room.

However it was Bucky who raised it, nipping it in the bud with his trademark pragmatism.

“I’ll take the couch” he said sternly. “You can have the bed”.

“Oh…thanks. But it’s okay, if you want the bed-” you started to protest but he cut you off. 

“It’s fine” he barked. 

You couldn’t deny that avoiding the awkwardness of having to share a bed was a relief, although a small part of you felt a tiny bit disappointed. 

“There’s only one blanket…” you said warily as your eyes scanned the cabin for something you may have missed…a blanket basket..a linen closet, anything…

“Don’t need one” he quickly dismissed as he laid down on his back atop the couch, wriggling his body against the cushions to get comfortable. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands over his chest. You couldn’t resist stealing a peek. He looked so angelic with his eyes closed. So much softer and sweeter than he normally did. You swallowed a gasp and quickly turned away before he caught you.

You took that as your cue to climb into the bed, shivering slightly as you pulled the shabby blanket tightly against you. The fire Bucky had lit in the fireplace earlier had finally burnt out, and you were suddenly very aware of how cold it was between these four wooden walls.

“Night” you said gently as you switched off the beside lamp, plunging the cabin into darkness.

Bucky merely grunted and you heard him roll over onto his side, the couch creaking painfully under his weight. Well, he was a big guy. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to fall asleep quickly, not wanting to think too hard about how the most handsome man you’d ever met was sleeping mere feet away from you. A braver version of you would be honest about how you really felt, using this close proximity to ask him directly what his issue with you was. An even braver version would use this opportunity to move over to the sofa and stroke his hair from his eyes and lean over and-

But you were a coward. 

You would likely never be alone with him like this ever again, and here you were wimping out and cowering in bed. Typical. 

You realised you could still hear the couch creaking. It seemed to be getting louder. That was odd. Bucky wasn’t even moving. What even was that? It sounded like…something cracking?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud snapping sound, then a huge crash and then eventually Bucky yelling. You’re suddenly frantic, in panic mode as you immediately assumed the safe house has been compromised and the two of you had somehow been tracked. You fling yourself out of bed, grabbing the pistol you stashed by the nightstand and practically smashing the lamp switch, ready to take down whoever has broken in.

As the cabin is illuminated you’re stunned by sight in front of you. 

Bucky is laying on the floor, his face like thunder as he scowls and curses. The couch is…somehow…cut perfectly in two, sliced down the middle.

“What the…?” You stammer as you lower your gun and take in the scene. 

Bucky suddenly sits up and leans over, assessing the wreckage. 

“It’s goddam termites!!” He spits.

“Huh??” You utter, struggling to make sense of what’s going on.

“Termites!!” He yells again, angrily gesturing at where the couch has split. 

You lean in and can now see the jagged edges of the exposed wooden frame, huge holes dotted along the structure. Yep, he was right - termites. 

“They’ve clearly been eating away at this old-ass couch for some time, it must’ve finally given up” he says furiously. His vibranium fingers squeeze into a fist and he angrily punches through some of the remaining chewed-up frame.

You did your best. Truly you did. But nothing could stop the wave of laughter that bubbled out of you in that moment. The image of Bucky in a heap on the floor…the deafening crash…the ridiculous debris of the couch…the fear of intruders…it was simply all too much. You threw your head back and laughed. Your laughter was a runaway train, impossible to stop. It wasn’t just the absurdity of the tableau in front of you…it was all of the tension and awkwardness that had been brewing between you and Bucky. All of your stress. The laugh was a cathartic release of all of it. 

Bucky scowled as he got to his feet. “It’s not that funny…” he muttered.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry…” you managed to yelp as you caught your breath. “I thought…I thought we were under attack, I drew…drew my gun and everything. But it was just…just…” you inhaled sharply. “It was just…your big super soldier ass smashing up the couch”.

Bucky’s eyes widened at that. You watched the anger darken his features before the corner of his mouth rolled up into a smirk. The smirk became a smile. The smile became a grin. The grin became a laugh. He was laughing!! Bucky was actually laughing!! 

“Who you callin’ big ass?” He sneered, although the playfulness was clear as day. 

That only made you laugh harder. 

You both stood there and laughed until your eyes watered and your sides hurt, eventually running out of steam. Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with disdain.

“You think they could spring for a Holiday Inn or something” he scoffed. “I know it’s slim pickings out in the middle of nowhere, but surely they could find something better than this shitbox”.

You chuckled. “Tony cheaping out I guess. But it’s kinda cosy at least…”

Bucky scoffed again. “Why do you always do that?” He said accusingly.

You frowned. “Do what?”

“Try to…put a positive spin on everything. Sometimes things just suck and that’s okay”.

You blanched, surprised. He’d never asked you anything like that before. “Well…uh…it’s just who I am I guess. Keeps me going”.

He studied you carefully. “Well…okay. But as long as you know it’s okay to just let something be shitty. You don’t always have to put on a brave face”.

Your eyes widened, surprised at the tenderness in his tone. “I’m not…putting it on. It’s just…me”.

He nodded. You realised this was your one chance. You had to take it.

“Is that why…you’re always so cold to me? You think I’m some phoney pretending the world is all sunshine and rainbows” you asked hesitantly. 

He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. 

“Huh?”

“C’mon, don’t insult my intelligence, Bucky. We both know you’re not exactly my best friend” you prodded. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been kinda a jerk. I guess I’m not really used to people like you…and I don’t know how to be”.

“People like me…?”

He smirked. “Optimists”.

“Oh…”

“It’s nothing personal” he continued. “I guess with my background…I just…don’t really come across too many peppy people in our line of work. I find it hard to get my head around. But it’s my problem…not yours”.

You nodded, taken aback by his candour. “Alright…I get that. But…I haven’t ever done anything to you. And I’d like it if we could maybe say more than five words to each other over an eight hour mission…”

He grimaced. “Yeah. Look…I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to take my issues out on you. Can we start over? Try again?” 

His voice was hopeful. He sounded genuine. You couldn’t help but feel the excitement of this new progress swirl in your tummy. 

You smiled. “Yeah. That would be good. Thanks”.

He nodded, smiling back at you. “Okay. Let’s talk more about it tomorrow…But for now we probably should get some sleep. It’s late”.

He sighed wearily and sat back on the floor, stretching out and laying on his back.

You watched this, baffled. “What…are you doing?”

He looked up at you in annoyance. “What does it look like?” He said sarcastically.

“It…looks like you’re sleeping on the hard floor with no blankets or pillows”.

“Well I can’t sleep on the broken couch can I…”

“Just get into the bed” you sighed

He sat up, eyeing you with suspicion. “What?”

“The bed. We can share. We’re both adults aren’t we? Serum or not, you’re not getting any sleep on that wooden floor. Plus, it’s freezing in here”.

He tilted his head. “And you’re sure you’re okay with that? Because I can sleep here just fine…I’ve had worse”

You shrugged, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You walked back over to the bed and pulled the covers back as you hopped back in. 

“Sure. Just try not to break this too, okay big ass?” You replied playfully. “Tony will end up sending us a bill if you keep wrecking the joint.”

He rolled his eyes as he relented, strolling over and flopping onto the other side of the bed. “Whatever. But if you snore I will wake you up”.

You grinned, delighted at the shift in atmosphere. Maybe Bucky would never like you the way you liked him, but if you had a chance at being his friend you would take that. You would grasp it with both hands and never let go.

Once you both settled down and you switched off the lamp for the second time that night, your head hit the pillow and you did your best to fall asleep. You tried to ignore the sheer heat radiating from the heavy body next to you. You didn’t really get up close and personal with Bucky so had no idea he ran this hot. Serum thing, you guessed. The mattress sagged under the weight of his bulk and you were painfully aware of how close you were to him, his back to you. You could’ve barely reached out and easily brushed his fingers. His thick shoulders were right there. His strong thighs were just by you. His beautiful blue eyes were resting beneath his eyelids. You felt your mouth go dry and squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep and rescue your mind from this psychic torment.

Unfortunately the cabin’s poor insulation quickly made itself known and soon all you could think about was how cold you were. How did this place only have one blanket?? You couldn’t even wrap yourself up in it properly because Bucky had half. You fantasised about endless duvets and comforters, fluffy pillows and hot water bottles. Electric blankets and knitted quilts.

You were debating getting up and going to try find another layer of clothing in your pack when Bucky’s grumpy voice interrupted. 

“Can you keep still? Jeez”.

You realised then that you were shivering. The trembling of your limbs was causing you to shake, gently rocking the bed.

“I’m sorry…it’s cold okay?” You hissed in the dark.

“Oh c‘mon…” he sneered.

“We aren’t all super soldiers!!” You spat, clenching your teeth together to stop them chattering. “I’m not a human bonfire like you”. 

“Ugh. So dramatic. Come’ere” he groaned.

Before you could fully compute he rolled over and pulled you into his arms, nestling you in his grasp. 

You had become the little spoon. 

“Uh…” you eked out in surprise.

“Shut up and go to sleep” he scolded lightly. “You can’t still be cold now…”

You shook your head, your brain short circuiting. It was as if every possible thought had left you all at once. You felt the dual sensation of metal and flesh hug your torso, the warmth of his breath by your ear. And oh god the heat. The heat.

You laid perfectly still as if any sudden movements would startle him and shake him out of this. You heard his breathing deepen suddenly and at first you thought he was falling asleep…but then you felt it.

It indeed.

There was something hard pressing into your bottom. 

You felt your face flush. Your mouth fell agape. He knew exactly what he was doing. This wasn’t an accident. A flash of boldness hit you like a lightning bolt, his audaciousness igniting something within you. You couldn’t process what this meant right now, you just had to ride the wave, so to speak. He rocked into you a little harder. You had to make it clear that you knew what this was. So you experimentally pushed your hips back against his. You were cautious, a slow manoeuvre at first to test the water. He grunted, then slowly moved himself forward once more, pressing himself harder against you. You pushed back again, uttering a small moan which he reciprocated with his own. You did this for a little while, pressing against each other and finding a rhythm. The only sounds were your clothes swishing against the sheets and a quiet chorus of whimpers and groans. No words were spoken. 

He carefully snaked his vibranium arm around you and you shuddered as he raised your shirt, walking his fingers down across your bare stomach to your hips, daringly pulling back the waistband of your sweats. He took his time, his breath dense against your ear as you closed your eyes and felt the cool metal trace your scorching skin beneath.

His digits toyed with the side of your underwear with painful slowness, his breathing quickening as he continued to rock his bulge into your backside. You could only whine as his fingers finally breached the fabric and made their way inside. He groaned heavily into your neck as he found the readiness of your essence, viscous and dripping from his fingers as he traced further and further in. You whimpered as he finally put you out of your misery and found your clit, expertly toying with it but applying enough pressure to build and build and build…

You rocked eagerly against his hand as he slipped one metal finger inside of you. Then two. All in rhythm with the thrust of your hips in time with his. His circling increased suddenly, his fingers continued to pump and you gasped as you reached your peak, finally reaching the top and plummeting off the edge, your voice hoarse and laboured as you cried out into the dark cabin, the stars of your climax both dizzying and intoxicating.

He held you close as you fell back down to earth, still not a word spoken by either of you. Nothing had needed to be said. He gently removed his hand from your panties and cupped your chin, wrenching your face to his and gifting you the sweetest, softest kiss you’d ever experienced. His lips brushing yours with tenderness and care. A stark contrast to the salacious way he’d touched you. 

“I haven’t been entirely honest…” he spoke into the dark, his voice hoarse and strained with lust.

You stroked his cheek fondly. “Mm?”

“It wasn’t just your…optimism” he told you as he kissed you again. “I…I couldn’t handle the way I felt about you. I always liked you…always wanted you. From that very first moment Steve introduced us. I was a goner. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t know how to talk to you. So I purposefully put space between us. It was immature, I know” he sighed. 

You smiled into the dark, your head reeling from all the ways the world had changed in the last hour. Your heart exploding after finally hearing the words you’d longed for. The words you’d never expected to actually hear.

“You’re so soft…and sweet. I like the way you try and see the good in everything. It makes me wanna be less of a grumpy asshole. And you make me laugh. The way you sent that pinecone flying earlier…” he chuckled. “You’re utterly ridiculous. You know that?”

You grinned. “You didn’t laugh!! It made it so much worse that you didn’t laugh…”

He sniggered. “I’m sorry. Look. I wanted to. I just didn’t want you to think I was making fun of you”.

You giggled, touched by the strange but well meaning logic. 

“Will you give me a chance to make it up to you?” He asked softly, his hand lazily running up your thigh. 

“Bucky…”

“Yeah, doll?”

“The quinjet will be here in a few hours. So you better get started on that apology…”

You felt his smile in the dark as his lips touched yours again, one arm pulling you into him as the other began to tug down your sweats. 

“You’re on doll, you’re on”.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #Beefy!Bucky x Female!SHIELD!Reader #beefy!bucky

[mcntsee]

THAWING SHADOWS

Summary: Y/n grapples with their feelings for Kaz. With the support of Nina, she confronts her insecurities and doubts about being worthy of Kaz's affection. Based off of this request.

Warnings: Contains themes of self-doubt, insecurity, and emotional vulnerability. Maybe OOC Kaz, I don’t know, I tried to make his dialogues fitting. Shitty writing and short.

Prompt: 17. "H-how long have you been standing there?" (list of prompts here)

I stared out at the vast expanse of the Slat, my heart heavy with emotions I couldn't quite contain. Nina, my dear friend and confidante, sat beside me, lending a sympathetic ear as I poured out my inner turmoil about Kaz Brekker. The mere thought of him sending a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through my veins.

"I don’t know Nina, I can't help but feel like Kaz could never reciprocate my feelings," I confessed, my voice filled with a hint of melancholy. "He's so enigmatic, so closed off. I'm just me… Just an ordinary person." Nina's eyes shimmered with empathy as she took a moment to choose her words carefully. "Y/n, I understand your doubts, but you're selling yourself short. Kaz may be guarded, but he's not incapable of feeling. There's more to him than people realize, and you've managed to capture his attention in a way that surprises even me."

A flicker of hope ignited within me, but it was quickly extinguished by the weight of my insecurities. “Don’t do that Nina.” I said, voice barley above a whisper, “Don’t give me false hope. How could someone like him ever see something in me?"

Nina's voice carried a gentle reassurance. "Kaz may be drawn to strength, intelligence, and the unexpected but trust me, your genuine heart and unwavering loyalty make you extraordinary in his eyes."

I listened intently, the gears of my mind turning as I absorbed Nina's perspective. Still, doubts lingered. "But what if he finds out about my flaws, about my own darkness? What if he sees the parts of me I'm not proud of?"

Nina's expression softened, and her hand found mine in a comforting gesture. "Y/n, we all have our flaws. It's a part of being human. But Kaz, he sees beyond the surface. He knows firsthand the depths of the human soul, the duality within. He's not one to judge but rather to understand. And in that understanding, he might just find a connection with you."

Her words sparked a glimmer of courage within me, prompting me to take a deep breath. "You really think there's a chance for us, Nina? That he could see something in me worth pursuing?"

Nina's smile widened, brimming with confidence. "Absolutely, y/n. I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he pays attention when you speak. There's a magnetic pull between you two, an unspoken connection. Just be yourself, and let fate unfold."

Curiosity flickered within me as I noticed Nina's eyes drifting behind me, repeatedly shifting focus to something—or someone. The urge to turn around and see what had caught her attention became irresistible. My heart raced in my chest as I pivoted, only to find Kaz standing there, his enigmatic presence enveloping me.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" I stammered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Nina, ever perceptive, departed with a knowing smile, leaving me alone with Kaz. Panic and regret mingled in my voice as I hurriedly apologized for all the doubts and insecurities I had expressed earlier.

Kaz's eyes, as cold and calculating as ever, studied me for a moment before he spoke, his voice laced with a touch of frost. "Words spoken in truth cannot be unsaid, y/n. But perhaps there is more to me than you assume." His words sent a shiver down my spine, both thrilling and unsettling me.

I faltered, sensing an iciness in his demeanor that made my heart ache. It seemed my fears of pushing him away were becoming a reality. I prepared myself for the inevitable rejection, expecting his walls to rise higher.

But Kaz, ever the master of secrets, surprised me with a small flicker of vulnerability. "You think me incapable of feeling, but you underestimate the depths of my emotions. It is true, someone like me should not deserve your affection." His tone remained cool, even distant, leaving me with a bittersweet mix of hope and uncertainty.

A wave of conflicting emotions crashed over me, mingling with the burgeoning happiness in my heart. Despite his cold demeanor, Kaz's words held a certain raw honesty that both pained and intrigued me. In that moment, I realized that beneath his icy exterior, he too harbored a fragile longing.

And so, the chill that had settled in the air began to thaw, ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of the tenderness beneath. As we stood there, facing each other, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us, connected by a fragile thread of understanding and the promise of something beautiful, even amidst the coldness that defined Kaz Brekker.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "Kaz, I understand that you see yourself as someone undeserving of affection, but it's not about who you think you are. It's about who I see when I look at you—the strength, the intelligence, and the capacity for greatness that resides within you. I know you've built walls to protect yourself, but I want to break through them and show you that you deserve happiness, just like anyone else."

For a moment, a flicker of surprise crossed Kaz's eyes, betraying the depths of his emotions that he so skillfully concealed. It was as if my words had penetrated his icy exterior, chipping away at the walls he had built around himself.

"You have a way with words, y/n," he said, his voice softer, the coldness thawing slightly. "But it's not just about what you see. It's about what you're willing to accept—my flaws, my darkness, the shadows that follow me.”

I looked into Kaz's eyes, unwavering in my resolve. "I can't promise that it will always be easy, or that we won't face challenges. But I'm willing to face them together, to support you in every way I can. I see beyond the shadows, Kaz, and I choose to see the person you truly are."

A moment of silence passed between us, filled with unspoken tension and uncharted possibilities. And then, the corners of Kaz's lips lifted ever so slightly, hinting at a rare smile that warmed my heart.

"You are a formidable person, y/n," he admitted, his voice carrying a newfound tenderness.

#angst #fanfiction #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader #kaz dirtyhands brekker #kaz brekker #fluff