#and how she’d have to punish them cause she couldn’t punish him

[randoimago]

Hello, can I request a fic about how Nyx, Aphrodite, Hera (Hades game) react when their lovers are flirted with by other gods?

I’m not writing for Hera (I’m not writing for any new characters in Hades 2 just because I want to play as much of it as I can first)

I’ll still write this for the other two, but if there’s a different god/godess you want to request then lmk!

[dykedvonte]

I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.

Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.

[little-wicked10]

buy me presents🎁

Summary: Soldier Boy can’t help his obsession with his little Beverly Hills beauty and spoils her for Christmas.

Warnings: Smut 18+, cursing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, daddy kink, sugar daddy vibes, possessive behavior, subspace, degrading, praise kink, creampie, and lots of other goodies🔞☃️

Notes: OBVIOUSLY inspired by “buy me presents” by Sabrina Carpenter. I went REALLY feral with this one🤭 Merry Christmas @jays-bonnie-on-the-side 🎄

//

“I sure wish you were coming here for Christmas, daddy,” she purred into the phone, twirling the cord around her manicured finger.

Ben groaned on the other end of the line, “Gonna get me hard on set, doll. Don’t be naughty. You know I got a shit ton of PR bullshit to do ‘round here.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t wanna buy me any presents,” she pouted her red lips.

His chuckle in her ear sent tingles across her skin, “I’m startin’ to think all you want is my black card.”

“That’s not true!” she playfully whined, “I want your dick too.”

Ben smirked, “I know you do, baby. Daddy’s been dyin’ without that sweet lil’ pussy on his dick, his mouth, his fingers.”

He was trying to tease her, but his plan backfired when he felt his dick strain in his pants. The little pathetic whimper he heard made it twitch. “Shit, you better not be playin’ with yourself!” he growled.

“N-No, I’m not, daddy. But, you’re being so mean and unfair,” she whined.

“I know, honey, I’m just a bastard, aren’t I?” his cocky tone made her groan in annoyance, “Keep bein’ nice, and Santa is gonna spoil the shit out of his Vixen.”

She moaned and rubbed her thighs together at the playful name. Damn Vought for making him work. Damn the modeling agency for making her work. She’d give anything to skip her latest photoshoots to be back in the arms of her Supe lover. It’s been weeks since the last time she was wrapped around him, and the ache was starting to get unbearable. Chills trickled down her spine remembering the way he slammed the head board of his Alaskan King bed into the plaster as he felt her creaming all over his pistoning cock. By the time she had to leave for Beverly Hills, the whole damn tower knew her name.

As the memories swirled in her lust riddled eyes, a whimper slipped from her painted lips. Ben’s deep groan pulled her from her thoughts. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby? Thinkin’ about how daddy had your naked body pressed against the cold glass of his penthouse last time you were here? ‘Cause I think about that all the time. How hard your nipples got, how our body heat fogged up the glass, how you soaked the carpet underneath us by the time I was done with ya,” he grabbed his bulge, “Bet those assholes in make up had a hell of a time coverin’ up all those hickeys.”

She clutched the phone tighter in her hand, panting and moaning into the receiver. He didn’t play fair. She wasn’t allowed to touch herself unless he said so, and he rarely said so. Soldier Boy was a glutton for her suffering and neediness, for those desperate pleas for sweet release. She only disobeyed him once, concluding he couldn’t possibly tell the difference, but he certainly did. The punishment was fucking herself on him while he didn’t do shit, simply sitting back and smoking a joint while she weakly tried to get off without his help. Absolute torture.

“Please, let me touch myself, daddy,” she whined pathetically, “Could be an early Christmas present.”

His laugh made a pit of disappointment settle in her stomach, “Nuh uh, sugar tits. You can wait till I get there next week.” Suddenly, there was the sound of voices in the background. The supe barked at them to fuck off he’d be there in a minute. “I gotta go, honey.”

She pouted, “Fine.”

“Be good, Vixen,” he chuckled, “Santa’s coming to town real soon.”

They were having way too much fun with the Christmas themed teasing.

//

It was around 10 o’clock the next night when a knock echoed through her empty home. She’d fallen asleep draped across the couch waiting on their nightly call. She yawned as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Adjusting her silk robe, she slipped off the couch and padded towards the door. She wondered who could possibly be knocking this late as she slipped down the main hallway. A familiar figure came into view, identity hidden by the frosty privacy glass around the door. She didn’t need to see his face to know who was standing on her front porch. A delighted squeal left her lips as she rushed towards the door and flung it open.

“Ho, Ho, Ho,” Ben smirked.

“You better not have any other ho’s,” she playfully scolded, “What are you doing here? I thought you had PR with Vought.”

“Yeah, I told those fuckers to gargle my ballsack I gotta see my lady,” he smiled.

Removing the duffel from his shoulder, he swept her into his arms and walked into her home. The metal buckles of his suit were cold through the thin silk of her robe and pajamas. Lipstick marked his skin with every kiss she bestowed upon his handsome face. “Save some of those kisses for later, honey. You know how much I love lipstick on my cock,” he growled into her ear.

“Depends on what Santa got me before I decide if I’m feelin’ generous,” she teased.

“Well then let’s get to openin’,” he smiled as he carried her into the beautifully decorated living room.

Once he set her down, she bounced onto the couch, sitting on her knees patiently. Ben sat next to her with a huff and swiftly unzipped the black bag. She giggled excitedly as he began pulling out the most gorgeously wrapped gifts and set them on the coffee table. The paper was a shiny baby pink wrapped with a velvet hot pink ribbon. Once all the presents were spread out for her to pick apart, the supe propped a foot up and lit a cigar. She took a moment to admire the handy work of some poor intern at Vought Ben had most likely intimidated into doing it. Soldier Boy didn’t wrap gifts.

He watched with an amused grin as his spoiled lover suddenly perched herself on his knee and opened every expensive gift he’d picked out: beautiful jewels from Cartier and Tiffany (he couldn’t decide which was better so he went with both), designer clothes and shoes from her favorite name brands, lingerie, and even a sable fur coat.

“Ben! Oh my god, baby! Is this real?!?” she gasped as she held the fur to her chest.

“Of course it’s real. Only the best for you,” he smirked as smoke curled from his perfect lips.

She wrapped her arms around his strong neck and passionately kissed his lips, tasting his cigar. A large hand held her waist as he slipped his tongue against hers. She was quick to face him and straddle his lap properly, “I’m feelin’ very grateful, Santa. I must have been an awful good girl to get all these presents.”

Ben squeezed the plush of her ass, “It’s the naughty things that got you on my nice list, Vixen. And, Santa’s got one more for ya.”

“Oh I can feel it,” she ground her hips down into his.

He clenched his teeth and groaned, “Not that. That’s in a minute.”

Ben picked her up and placed her on the couch, setting his cigar in an ashtray. Kneeling down before her, he took her right leg in his grasp, resting her foot against his shoulder. She leaned back and shivered as his soft lips and rough beard tickled her ankle. They dragged up towards her calf, smirking into her skin when he heard her quiet moan. His free hand reached into his pocket to pull out a small silver chain with a charm dangling from it. The metal was warm as he wrapped it around her slender ankle. Once it was clasped and freely hanging, Ben sat back to let her look at it.

“An anklet?” she asked curiously.

“Mmhm. Look at the charm,” he encouraged.

She removed her foot from his shoulder and tucked her leg against her body, looking down to admire the charm. It was an exact replica of the metal eagle patches on the upper arms of his suit. Her fingers felt engravings on the back. Flipping it around, she read the words, ‘Property of Soldier Boy.’

“I would have paid for a tattoo, but I know that’s not your style. This is muuuuch sexier,” he brought her ankle back to his chest, admiring the silver gleaming in the dim light, “Had it made special for ya. Something pretty to dangle in your face when I’ve got ya bent in half.”

“Isn’t that what your face is for?” she teased as she push her foot against his chest.

With a deep chuckle, he caught her behind both knees and yanked her legs open, pulling her to the edge of the couch, “It’s also a little reminder of who owns this ass.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, “Make sure no body touches what’s yours, daddy?”

“Oh nobody would ever dare come near ya. If not from my lil’ reminder, then your expensive taste would bleed’em dry,” he leaned forward and kissed her neck.

She thread her fingers through his soft hair, “Your fault for spoiling me so much. Ruined me for any other man with that black card and thick dick.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight, honey,” he bit down hard where her neck and shoulder met, “Ya gonna let me unwrap my present now? Drink you like a warm glass of milk? Santa’s pretty thirsty.”

She nodded with a sweet sigh as his hands began to roam her body with determination. A moan slipped from her throat when he sucked on her jawline below her ear. Small hands slipped down his body and expertly began to unbuckle his suit. Ben let go of her long enough to slip it off. Her flimsy robe went next as his hands greedily shoved up under her tank top, groping her breasts in his large hands. She whimpered as he bit her lip and pinched her nipples.

“Fuck me, I missed these tits so much,” he groaned. She moaned into his mouth and ground her hips into his abdomen. The warmth from her pussy radiated through her flimsy shorts and into his skin. Every pass of her hips made her wetter, soaking through the silk. “C’mere,” Ben yanked her closer to wrap her legs around his waist and stood up.

It was a quick sprint up the stairs before entering her bedroom. He tossed her to the mattress, and she bounced, tits jiggling beautifully. “Naked. Now,” the order was gruff as he began unbuckling his belt. The green of his eyes turned dark watching her slip out of the cute little sleeping set. Only thing left on her body was a silver anklet and a sultry smile. She maneuvered herself on the bed to lay on her stomach, face inches from his hips. Ben’s gaze never left hers as he tossed his boots and pants aside.

He had a cocky swagger as his hard dick bobbed with every step. Her mouth watered, and she licked her lips at the sight. A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest, running his fingers through her hair before taking a handful, “I know that look, doll.” She bit her lip and stared up at him through her lashes, her crossed ankles swaying in the air. She leant forward and placed a bright red kiss mark at the base of his cock. He shuddered at the feel of her soft lips and warm breath.

Just as he asked, she decorated his cock in her lipstick. First, leaving kiss marks all the way up to his head. They all began to smear once she took him into her mouth, bobbing up and down until she was ready to take more. The hand tangled in her hair started guiding her as his hips started fucking into her mouth. Tears burned in her eyes, mascara beginning to run, but she kept going. He was taking it easy on her considering how long it had been since the last time they’d fucked.

“That’s my girl. You remember how to do this. Relax your throat a lil’ more for daddy,” Ben growled, “J-Just like that. Fuck, you’re such a good girl!”

She moaned around his length.

“Gonna cum down that pretty throat, honey,” he growled, “Swallow it. Fuckin’ swallow it!”

Her throat constricted around his girth as he came. He slowly began to pull his cock out, still throbbing and squirting into her mouth. He smeared the head of his dick against her tongue. She held her tongue out to show the last of his essence before swallowing. Ben kneeled with a sly grin and wiped her tears with his thumb, “That’s my good lil’ slut.” Her eyes were glazed over and her lips wet as she nuzzled into his hand. He suddenly picked her up and laid her against the plush pillows.

He caught her shamelessly watching his muscles stretch and flex as he laid on his stomach, throwing her legs over his broad shoulders. The tinkling of the anklet made a feral feeling settle in his body. “Your turn,” he grinned.

“Oh daddy!” she cried as his mouth enveloped her pussy.

The way he swirled his tongue around her clit then dip into her entrance made her begin to pant. Tiny, pathetic whimpers escaped her lips as she tried to roll her hips against him. The scratch of his beard her favorite sensation when he went down on her. Ben moaned and shook his head side to side, letting his tongue and facial hair rub against her sensitive folds. “I fucking love your beard, daddy! I want beard burn on my pussy!” she cried. His chuckle vibrated against her. He loved the sound of her desperate babbling.

Her small hands grasped at his hair frantically when he stuck his tongue inside her and ran his thumb over her clit. The calluses on his fingers added to the sparks tingling her nerve endings. She suddenly arched her back to rub her pussy against his face more. Two thick fingers replaced his tongue, and he sucked her clit into his mouth. Hooking his fingers, he assaulted that sensitive little spot inside her.

She nearly screamed as the damn burst, and she gushed all over his face and hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! YES, DADDY!” she screamed.

Ben’s groan vibrated through her and helped in adding to her pleasure. Her body trembled and spasmed as the waves crashed over her. Her first orgasm quickly bled into another as he kept up the pace. He only stopped when she began to push his head away and whine. “T-Too much, daddy! Need your cock! Now! P-Please!” she hiccuped.

His hot breath panted against her abused center. Their eyes met, and he could swear he saw cute little pink hearts in her blown pupils. Sitting up on his knees, Ben wiped his beard before pulling her hips to his. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his massive length rested against her slick sex. He held her hips in his hands as he watched her large breasts heave with each pant that escaped her bitten lips.

“Those fuckers you work for should put this image right here on the cover,” he felt her pussy lips clench on the underside of his cock, “Fuck, you like the idea of people seein’ what a cock drunk lil’ whore you are, baby?”

She dumbly nodded, not a thought forming in her fuzzy, lust-fueled mind.

Ben rut his hips back and forth, coating himself in her slick, “That face right there is why Santa was so good to you this year. Ain’t even put it in yet and you’re already a fucked dumb whore.”

She whined and whimpered, hips wiggling in anticipation as he notched his tip at her entrance. The need burned deep in her stomach, but she was being patient for him.

“My fucked dumb whore. My pretty lil’ slut,” he started to press his hips forward, “My favorite girl. Daddy’s spoiled princess.”

Ben moaned as her cunt clenched around him at his praises. He was a possessive son of a bitch, and feeling that anklet pressing between his lower back and her ankle made him fucking animalistic. His right hand slid from her hip to circle her clit with his thumb. She cried out and he moaned when their hips were flush together, tip kissing the back of her cervix. She never got tired of that overly full feeling only he could give her. That sweet stretching of her opening was addicting. Ben leaned over her, left hand holding her hip while right leaning against the mattress next to her head. Just as she was about to beg for him to move, his hips snapped forward. Each thrust hard and deliberate in reshaping her plush, velvet walls to his cock again.

Small hands held on to his strong neck and broad shoulders as her eyes watched his abs flex. She drooled over the way his body looked as he fucked her. She didn’t know what possessed her mind to conjure it, but she thought he was so pretty. Prettier than any gift he’d gotten her. It was odd to think of a man so ruggedly handsome as pretty. His forest green eyes dark with lust, his long hair hanging in his face, perfect smile adorning his face every time she cried out his name. It was beautiful.

“Sss…ssso pretty, d-daddy,” her right hand skimmed down his chest, red nails tracing down his V-line, “Prettier t-than m-me.”

Ben chuckled down leaned down on his forearm to brush his lips against her cheek, “Not prettier than you, baby, but I appreciate the compliment. Ya like daddy’s pretty cock inside ya?”

She gasped when he picked up his thrusts. The way her nails kept tickling his V-line made him shudder. Suddenly, he took her hands in his, intertwining their fingers and holding them above her head. Her legs wrapped tighter around his hips as he drove into her deeper. The only sound leaving her lips ‘uh, uh, uh’ over and over again. He sucked on her neck, leaving large bruises all over her neck. Each love bite soothed over with the pass of his tongue.

Her whole body was tingling and writhing. This was why he didn’t want her to play with herself. Her body was so sensitive and responsive to him it was insane. Selfishly, he wanted her to only get pleasure from him. Only cum when he wants her to, in the way he wants her to, however many times he wants her to. She was completely at his mercy, addicted to his touch. He suddenly flipped them, placing her on top before letting go of her hands to wrap his arms around her. She slipped hers around his neck and head, grasping his brown locks to make him look her in the eye.

His thrusts continued at a brutal pace. His teeth bit into her bottom lip as she moaned and trembled. When his right hand trailed up her spine, he took a fist full of her hair and pulled her mouth to his. The mind melting way he kissed her made her move her hips more with his thrusts. Suddenly, his left hand moved down to harshly grab and slap her ass. He swallowed her gasp when he suddenly circled his finger around the hole he wasn’t fucking. “O-Oh, fuck, baby!” he stuttered as her inner walls choked his cock, “Didn’t know you wanted daddy to play with your asshole, did ya?”

She could only whine, enjoying the constant circling of his middle finger over the small hole. The way their bodies pressed together made her rub her clit against his pelvis. She frantically rode him as he kept fucking up into her. Her voice went up higher in pitch the closer she came to exploding. “Look at you! Gettin’ off to daddy teasing your ass and fucking you raw. I’m gonna have to pull out.”

She gasped and held him tighter, nearly sobbing, “No! D-Don’t pull out, daddy! Stay i-inside! Want…huh…it inside!”

Ben smirked at the sound she made when he ground the tip of his dick into her cervix. He fucked her like a beast, primal need driving him to claim her in the most feral ways possible. And, she was going to let him for as long as he pleased. Her orgasm hit them both like a truck. She dug her nails into his chest, screaming and whimpering as she squirted all over his lap. The wet sounds filling the room were fucking obscene. It sounded like a dog drinking water as he kept ramming into her.

“Oh fuck, you can’t stop,” he laughed, “You can’t stop cummin’, can ya? This pussy won’t stop squirtin’!”

She let out little panting whines as her body jerked and convulsed. A scream of ecstasy came from her mouth when Ben hooked the tip of his finger into her asshole and slammed her on his cock. Both nearly blacked out as he came deep inside her with a loud roar that bled into a moan. The way her walls constricted and tried to push him out made him pump harder, deeper, forcing her sensitive body to spasm around his cock.

The two rode their highs, gently rutting against one another. Sweat clung to her skin while only a light sheen dusted the his. It would take a couple of rounds before the supe truly broke out in a sweat. Ben whispered sweet things in her ear as she floated down to earth.

“You did good, baby. Daddy’s so proud of ya,” he cooed into her ear, hands moving soothingly over her skin, “Best Christmas present I could’a asked for.”

She only hummed as she littered his chest and neck with kisses. Neither moved from their position, staying as close as possible. She stayed pressed against the expanse of his chest as he leaned over and took a joint from the night stand. The lighter flicked to life and the smell of weed filled the air. Her mind was still foggy and lightheaded, snuggled up in a syrupy sweet state. If he pulled out right now, she’d throw a desperate and pitiful tantrum, but he had no intention of leaving her insides any time soon.

Ben heard her heart rate slow and breathing begin to equalize. Her mouth nuzzled against his jaw playfully as her hands wondered over his muscles, “I have a present for you, daddy.”

“Another one? The only present I want is to do THIS until one of us passes out,” he smirked.

“We do that all the time,” she giggled, “Grab the black folder from the drawer.”

Holding the joint between his lips, he once again reached to the small table. He opened the drawer to find black folder with his Supe name printed on the cover in silver letters. Ben settled back onto the bed and opened the gift to reveal a spectacular sight. Picture after picture of her in the most revealing, jaw-dropping lingerie, while posed in the most ball-achingly, sinfully delicious positions.

“Holy shit! When did you do this?” he asked looking down at her.

Her giggle turned into a whimper as she felt him begin to throb and harden inside her, “Playboy asked to do a shoot with me a few weeks ago. I asked Hugh if I could borrow the set up for something special for America’s Hero.”

The more he kept flipping through the glossy pictures, the stiffer he became inside her. She weakly pushed herself up to sit up and on his dick. By the time he tossed the folder on the bed, she was rolling her hips and frantically fucking herself on him like a bitch in heat. “You read my fuckin’ mind, doll,” he moaned as she took his large hands and placed them on her tits.

“One…one more…present,” she panted, hands encouraging his to be rougher with her chest.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from where his dick disappeared inside her, “Thought I was supposed to spoil you? What else did ya get me?”

Her eyes had been pinched closed, but she pried them open to look at him. She bit her lip before finally letting it slip, “I want you to f-fuck me at H-Herogasm. In front of everyone, daddy!”

Ben almost came again, “Goddamnit, seriously?!? Are you for real?”

She nodded frantically as she kept bouncing, “Only you. N-No one else!”

His head thumped against the headboard as he groaned in deep satisfaction, fingers pinching her nipples, “Just me, honey, you got it! Christ on a cross! I think I’m in love!”

She let out a breathy giggle, eyes rolling into the back of her head, “M-Merry Christmas, daddy.”

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, baby,” he moaned.

//

Have a very Nonsense Christmas🎄💋

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.9. ALL OR NOTHING.

“he doesn’t see her today. but he’s thinking of her anyway. when is he not? today, he sends a song to her, because he doesn’t know what she’s playing in her waiting room.”

content warnings: nightmares, lots of talk about death, the fear of growing up, parental issues, manipulation/guilt-tripping, someone here might just be traumatized, my booty writing

when she was younger, she had a lot of nightmares.

sometimes they were something stupid; something that shouldn’t have scared her but did. sometimes they were things implausible; like walking on a dirt path, and suddenly the ground giving out on her and she was falling from an inescapable height, her mouth open and trying to scream with all her might but no sound was coming up, and then she woke up right before she hit the ground.

sometimes, they were about death.

about people dying.

she was never the one responsible, and they never died in a terrifying way.

they were realistic causes, like old age, or a car crash. none of that scared her.

it was her reaction to the deaths that scared her. 

her brain wasn't necessarily punishing her with these terrors of death, it was punishing her for how terrible and cold-hearted she was.

she would dream of her father dying of a disease at an old age and everyone around her would be crying but her. she'd stand there, eyes dry, just thinking about what she should’ve done. she should’ve said i love you, instead of love you. it didn’t matter that he was a horrible person, she was horrible, for being so selfish. maybe it wouldn't have been an honest truth that came out of her mouth, but at least it was something that would've been nice for him to hear before he died. and that's what she'd been known for; for being selfless. how could she ever put herself above another? she didn't even have a purpose or right to live. she felt that she only existed to burden other people.

she would have nightmares of her mother dying in a terrible car crash, and she was standing there again, face blank, thinking about how she should have stopped ignoring her. she should have pushed through her discomfort and hate for the woman, knowing she was still human and deserved to be treated as much.

the entire dilemma stemmed from the guilt that had found its way into every corner and crevice of her heart and mind thanks to her parents. they were the cause of her guilt and the terrors that stemmed from them, but she didn't know how to stop that. to set boundaries, or not let their emotions affect her even if it was all a plot to get her to do what they wanted.

she was an all-or-nothing kind of person; never able to just be in the middle. she gave the entirety of her heart to one person or showed them no care at all. she could either go against every warning signal in her head and put up with her father and mother in order to not feel so bad about the fact that they were providing for her (despite it being their fucking job) or she could completely cut them off.

her mother actually cut her off first, to be fair.

but then she cut off her father the moment she graduated from high school. 

she found a place to stay in the next city over, her last message to him being a simple goodbye, without any details about where she went and if she’d ever be back (the answer was no).

and yet that hadn’t been a clear enough sign for him to back off. she had never been able to communicate that to him. whether it was because he chose to ignore her attempts to distance herself from him or because he couldn’t understand what she was doing, he never left her alone.

she woke up today with seven missed calls from an unknown number. it was one too many calls to be from anyone she wanted the call to be from. there was a pit of despair growing larger in her stomach, a bubble of fear taking up all the space in her lungs as her finger hovered over the voicemail button.

no one needed her that bad to call her so many times. if her patients need her, they knew to text her, or if they really needed to call them, there was no way they'd call seven times, right? she'd have to check her voicemail, just in case.

she only needed one second before she hit the end call button. 

the hum of an old broken fridge in the background, a kitchen chair he always brooded at, keeping her from ever venturing out of her room, the broken clearing of a man’s throat. it wasn't a patient. it was him.

she wanted to throw up.

she wanted to go back to sleep.

she wanted to give this day another try. to wake up, have a phone clear of any notifications, and to have a good day.

but she couldn’t.

it was all or nothing.

close her eyes and stay in bed or get up and do her job.

she couldn’t let other people define her days like this. she couldn’t let the single, most vague mention of her mother let her ruin the rest of her day, but how could she do that? it was all or nothing.

the sound of the door to her apartment closing brought her back to her senses.

akaashi had just left for the day, and she was the last one left in their place.

everyone else was out living their life, she needed to be out there too. she should be out there. she had a job to do. people to help, no matter if she needed help or not. what day was it even?

she squints at her phone, the screen reading 7:30 a.m. she'd skimmed over the clock initially, and she almost wished she stayed ignorant. she should’ve been at her office by now. if she was lucky she'd still get to her office before her first appointment and if she remembered correctly, her 8 a.m. had needed to reschedule their meeting today for a different time.

the final push that got her out of bed was the thought that she’d see him today. she wanted to see sakusa. she could try her hardest to have a good day if it meant getting to see him.

and it all starts with one foot out of bed.

when sakusa walks through the door, she looks more relieved to see him than he does to see her and he knows something is wrong. but she doesn't bring attention to the fact and he worries he might be overthinking it. maybe she’s just getting more comfortable with him, and is happy to see him. but, at the same time, everything about her posture says otherwise. her shoulders are too stiff and her knee is bouncing too much. normally, it's posed and whose foot hits the floor with anxious repetitiveness.

she was the grounding, calming force he tended to rely on but today it seemed that the roles had switched.

it wasn’t a bad thing, she had never been good at putting herself first, and he was sure that hadn’t changed even now.

“how was your week? i know we talked about a game you were worried about last week. did it go well? everything with your game and your coach?” she asks when he sits down. she gives him a casual smile but averts her eyes when he starts searching her face, trying to tell what's wrong. she’s not sure why he’s looking at her like that, as if he cares, but a small part of her is falling apart under his gaze. it’s the same part of her that’s loved him since the day they met. it’s the part of her that when they meet eyes, she feels a common burn between them.

“are you okay?” he asks, and she blinks, feeling like she's one word from falling apart.

“yeah, i’m fine!” she responds, maybe too cheery to appear normal. her other appointments today went smoothly enough, and she feel distracted from her own problems but also worse at the same time, considering she's spent the day listening to others' issues instead. she resists placing her computer on her lap, knowing she needs to bare his gaze straight on in order to get him off her back.

she can feel the weight of his eyes upon her, but he doesn’t keep pushing. she focuses completely on him, telling herself over and over not to let her guard down. it feels a little wrong of her to use the sensitive information her patients trust her with as a distraction from her own thoughts, but when it comes to sakusa, she think it has less to do with what he’s saying and more with the fact that he’s simply here in this room with her.

she wants to stand up, cross the room, sit on the couch with him, lean gently on his shoulder, not throwing her entire weight onto him, but just being in the slightest bit of contact with him.

would he let her touch him like that? or would he be disgusted? avoidant of her touch? weary of it? he had let her put her hand on his chest last time, but had that just been a special moment? maybe she had worsened since then, maybe he could see right through to her depressive state of mind and found it repulsive.

she had to close her eyes for a second and take a deep breath. she was getting too ahead of herself, allowing her head to demonize the man in front of her and making him seem like something he wasn’t. she hoped he didn’t hate her as much as she thought he did. they were in such a strange place right now, seeming to float between the relations of acquaintances, client and consultant, friends, and maybe something a little more.

“[y/n].”

the sound of her name made her eyes snap open, “yes? i’m so sorry, i promise i’m listening.” she had tried her best to provide some amount of advice and reiteration when she could, but he did most of the talking while she nodded along. she was paying attention but at the same time certainly letting her mind wander ever so often. she felt like a piece-of-shit-failure, sitting there across from him; silent, waiting for him to continue. she had no idea what he had just said before her name, obviously, so she couldn’t even try to pretend like she’d heard anything. she was a failure– it was as simple as that. nothing less, nothing more. a feeling of guilt and shame settled in her gut, making her feel nauseous on top of how heavy her head already felt.

“i didn’t say anything,” he replies and the negative, nauseating feeling inside of her spreads across her entire body, leaving her aching. it physically hurts, how heavy her mind feels. she shouldn’t have come to work today. she should have rescheduled appointments rather than being selfish. maybe she should have never started this career to begin with. “i just said i think it’s almost been an hour.”

she glances at the clock on her wall, and he’s right. their time is up, and for some reason that feels like the end of the world to her. “you’re completely right. i’m sorry, sakusa. i hope you still got something out of today’s session even though I was a little out of it. sorry about that, again– i promise i care and that i was trying to listen as best as i could…” she trails off, feeling like her excuse is meaningless. she should’ve left it at her apology. she couldn’t even say that she was listening as best as she could, only that she tried. and her trying wasn’t good enough. anything less than perfect felt wrong to her; like the worst possible outcome. if she wasn’t always putting her all into her work, how could she hope to help people? as always, she could only ever give people all or nothing. and in her field, she was responsible for making their mental and physical states better, she shouldn’t be so emotional at a time like this it was pathetic and wrong–

they’re standing at her door, and she’s holding it open for him as always. she’d spaced out again, waiting for him to leave so that she could close and lock the door and spend an hour on the floor crying before figuring out how to get home on her own without breaking down in public. but he hadn't left yet. he was stopped in front of her, she realizes. he's staring down at her and now she’s looking back up at him. some of his curls are falling in front of his eyes, and she wants to brush them away.

really, she wants to be in his arms. maybe that would make everything feel better.

but she doesn’t feel like she has the right to hug him anymore. their talk over text a few nights ago feels so far away, like who she was only a few nights ago is a completely different person from who she is now. she doesn’t know who she is, she just feels like a soulless body. she wishes she could go back in time, so many years ago when things weren’t much easier, but at least she still had him. if she could go back in time, she never would have left him. she wishes she could tear her heart out, put up with her father, and never have let him ruin her entire life.

“do you need anything?” he asks softly because he’s not sure how else to word it. what he wants to say, the four simple words “i care about you” get lodged in his throat because, for some reason, it's easier for him to confess almost his entire heart to her behind a screen. so he settles for this question instead, leaving it open, for however she wants to interpret and respond to it.

“no,” she lies. she knows she can ask for help, but she can’t, she can't let herself. “i’m okay, thank you. i’m sure you have other things to do today. don’t let me hold you up.” she’s staring at his jacket now, waiting to watch it start to move, but it doesn't. he doesn’t even move an inch after her answer.

“i don’t have anything else going on today. i want to be there for you.” his voice sounds like everything she could ever wish for. he sounds like the person she spent nights crying to whatever heavenly body resided above, asking them to give her someone, anyone to come into her life and love her.

“you’re my last patient for the day,” she finds herself saying. she never was able to resist him much, “i have to close up, but if you want to go somewhere afterwards, you can wait for me, but only if you want to.”

“i’ll wait,” he agrees. “i’ll wait for you. i want to.”

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

hi! :3

this chapter was started all the way back in September wow!!!

the tea gossipers have each other's locations

so you best believe they're about to check y/n's location and see she's going out somewhere after work

and together, the three men will piece together what's going on

that's for next chapter

or the chapter after that

next chapter soon!!!

two chapters left <3

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost  @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 8

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, voyerism, coercive sex, manipulation, Pocket reaching her Ultimate Bitch Form.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Carthage has been spying on you and manipulating both you and Bucky from Day One.

A/N: THE FIRST TIME DIDN'T COUNT, GUYS!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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“She was just toying with you, Jamie, because she could. She doesn’t respect you. Do you honestly think she would pick you over Steve Rogers? Captain Fucking America? Especially with all the pain you’ve caused? The lives you’ve ended? Come on, Jamie, don’t be dumb.” Video Jade caressed Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky’s face fell, and you knew she’d hit him where it hurt him the most.

Jade sat back on her haunches on the mattress. “Don’t be stupid, Jamie,” she reiterated. “Do you really think she’d want someone like you, who can’t even control their cock in a fight, when she could have America’s Golden Dick? I bet they laugh at you, how easy it is for them to get away with it, right under your nose. You think it’s just a coincidence that, as soon as you're out of the country, she’s seen by all of New York’s elite getting cozy with your best friend? The one person you asked her to stay away from? She was just waiting for you to get out of the picture so she can show her real boyfriend off to the public.”

You watched as Bucky’s entire body clenched, his face tightening in anger. “You said you wanted to get back at her,” Jade urged, putting her hands back on Bucky’s body. “To punish her for what she did. So punish her, Jamie. Use me. Use me to make her hurt the way she made you hurt. Don’t let her play you for a fool.” You saw Bucky struggle, at war with himself, but you could see the anger pulse through him, and you knew that, with this snake whispering in his ear, there was no way he could have come to any other conclusion than that you had betrayed him. You almost felt sorry for him– he didn’t have a chance.

“Come on,” she said, leaning Bucky back so he was lying propped up on the pillows. “You won’t even need to do anything. Let me take care of you, okay? Let Vixen make you feel good.” Bucky scrunched his eyes closed, putting his hands over his face. It was painfully clear he wasn’t an enthusiastic participant, but it still hurt knowing that he had been so angry at you for something you hadn’t done that he was willing to do this.

“We just have to get Little Jamie to come out to play,” Jade teased as she straddled him. Your view was obstructed by her body, but you had no doubt that she was jerking him off in an attempt to get him hard. 

It just… seemed to be taking a really long time. 

“Come on Jamie,” Jade said after a few minutes. “You gotta help me out here. Give me a little something to work with.”

It seemed to finally work after a while, and Jade re-positioned herself as she lined Bucky up with her entrance. You couldn’t watch anymore, so you shut your eyes. It didn’t stop you from hearing the horrible sounds of her moaning as she bounced up and down on his cock, though.

You thought you were going to be sick, but then you heard it, so soft that if you had your eyes open, your senses diluted, you would have missed it. “Pocket,” Bucky moaned. “Fuck, Pocket. Keep going, baby. I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so sorry. I love you so fucking much.”

His moans grew louder. “Pocket,” he cried, “God, baby, I miss you so fucking much!”

You started laughing. It was the fucking weirdest, most uncomfortable position you’d ever found yourself in in your entire life, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Oh my god,” you panted, trying to catch your breath as Jade looked down on you in confusion. “That’s the most pathetic thing I have ever seen!”

Jade wrapped a hand roughly around your throat and squeezed threateningly, cutting off your laughter. “What did you say?” she seethed.

You coughed when she’d released your neck and you could breathe again. A few drops of your blood had fallen from your nose to rest on Jade’s wrist. “I said, that’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” You jutted your chin toward the phone she still held. “You think that’s proof that he wants you? Oh, honey. You truly are a stupid cunt, aren’t you? He couldn’t even get hard for you without thinking about me. You were a convenient fleshlight– just a hole when I wasn’t available.”

You would have felt monstrous speaking to any other woman like that, truly, but you had to do everything in your power to keep her distracted, to keep her from moving forward with her plan to auction you off to the highest bidder, so that you could buy some time for the calvary to arrive. And besides, Carthage wasn’t just another woman– she was your fucking nemesis, and she deserved every foul word you could throw at her. 

God, you hoped Tony showed up first. The image of him sending Jade through the wall with a repulsor blast was enough to send you into fits of giddy laughter. Then maybe Bruce could toss her around like a ragdoll, the way he had with Loki. You’d pay to see that. You wondered if Carthage had headbutted you hard enough to cause a concussion– you certainly weren’t feeling fully in your right mind.

Jade backhanded you, the force of the blow so hard that your head snapped to the side, leaving you seeing stars. “You’re LYING!” she shouted. Grabbing you by the hair, she hoisted you up, metal chair and all, and slammed your face into the nearest wall. Perhaps she’d rattled a screw loose, because you couldn’t seem to get your laughter under control. “Don’t damage the merchandise, Vixey,” you coughed, spitting out even more blood. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances at auction, would you? Bad for business.”

“You fucking bitch!” Jade shouted. She ripped your bindings free from the chair and lifted you up by the throat. “Fuck–” she punched you in the stomach– “the auction!” In the face. “I’m gonna–” In the solar plexus– “fucking kill you–” back to the face– “myself!” Each blow was excruciating, and you were sure you’d heard a rib or two crack under the force of her fist, but still, you kept laughing at her. 

“Poor little fox,” you wheezed through the blood that was pouring down the back of your throat. “All those years wasted, thinking you could ever have a chance with him.” Your head lolled to the side as you tried to look up at her through your rapidly swelling eyelids. “Thinking you were special, that you were made for him, and you can’t even get his dick up. He’s so repulsed by you, he has to imagine being with someone else!”

“Shut up!” Jade screeched. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” She grabbed your left arm in her hands and snapped it. The pain was blinding, sending your vision into a white hot pulses. You screamed, holding the broken appendage to your body, as though that would protect you. You didn’t dare look down at it; knowing you’d be sick at the sight if you did, of your arm dangling uselessly at an unnatural angle. Instead, you curled yourself up into the fetal position, cradling your arm close to your core. 

Jade began pacing the room, tugging at her hair and mumbling to herself. You couldn’t quite make out what she was saying– you only caught snippets of words, like “fucking whore,” and “mine.” The girl had completely lost it, had completely gone off the deep end. Meanwhile, you suspected you were going into shock as you listened to the rat-a-tat-tat of your rapid heartbeat. 

No. You cocked your head, listening. That wasn’t the sound of your heart, beating out of your chest– that was the sound of gunfire echoing through the bowels of the base. You strained your ears. Mixed within the gunshots, you could hear screaming, voices crying out in agony and then cut short, as if their owners suddenly lost access to their breath. 

Through the distant din, you could make out a familiar voice, roaring with rage, and the sound filled your heart up like a balloon. “POCKET!”

You started laughing again.

Jade turned to look at you, her expression furious. 

“I feel sorry for you, Vixen,” you said, grinning like a madwoman. “Me?” she asked you incredulously. “I just snapped your arm like a fucking twig and am going to enjoy the shit out of killing you nice and slowly, and you feel sorry for me?”

You nodded vigorously, gleefully noting that the sound of battle was growing closer. Bucky called for you again, his voice contorted with rage and worry. Jade turned her head toward the sound, noticing it for the first time. “Yup,” you agreed, forcing yourself to stand and face her. You could feel the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth as you smiled from ear to ear. “Seems like my boyfriend’s looking for me, and when he sees what you’ve done, he’s going to kick your fucking ass.”

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[whumblr]

Bittersweet

Bookish - Prev chapter: Home alone- pt 1 here

-

Only when Roman was out of sight and the door to the basement closed did Dani allow the desperation pent up inside an outlet. Soft little whimpers escaped her as she tried to keep her balance, soft little moans of pain when she failed and the wire around her wrists snagged and twisted deeper into her skin.

The wire was thin enough that it should break by leaning her weight on it. That is, if it weren’t wrapped around a hundred times. And if she would dare to put weight on it… Snap them one by one, perhaps? At the cost of some skin and blood?

Fuck, she should have just bolted from the house, electric shock be damned. Crawling through the forest like a screaming banshee, scaring off any hikers that may have been disposed to help. But what if she was outside the range of the thing and it never turned off anyway?

Well. Too late to think about that. She’d missed her opportunity and Roman was going to make sure the next one was months away.

She half expected a blast of electricity at any moment to blow her off her feet, tense her against the wires around her wrists, fuck up her balance. Keep her on her fucking toes. But Roman apparently found this punishment enough. And she kinda had to agree with him.

Blood tickled down her bare arms. Every loop of wire squeezed harder into her skin, deeper into already existing cuts, wringing out more drops of blood. And if she pressed further up onto her toes to relieve her wrists, her calves felt like they were going to tear off by the ligaments. Roman didn’t need anything else to make sure this was already a living hell.

There was no reprieve. Only pain. And not knowing when he’d finally return and/or let her down.

After what seemed like hours the slam of the front door vibrated through the house and a flicker of hope started burning in her chest. The tiny little flame sparked and rushed up, lighting the rage in her eyes as Roman casually came down the stairs, stopped, and looked her over.

He was still wearing his grey outdoor jacket. How nice of him, so concerned about her that he probably didn’t even put the groceries away and immediately came down to check up on her. Not concerned enough to rush towards her though. He sauntered up, eyes taking her in, all the way up to her bloodied wrists, to the tips of her toes straining to keep her from falling over.

He stopped right in front of her and Dani refused to look up, glaring at his shoes instead. Only when he shuffled a shoe in-between her socked feet, nudging her lightly and tipping up his toes to step on hers, she glared up. His smug face was unbearable; staring her down, with his hands in his pocket not even doing anything, not touching her, revelling in his power over her.

“You ready to come down?”

Her mouth twisted into a snarl. “Yes. Cause I really have to pee.”

He hummed. A single hand slid from his pocket and his knuckles brushed over her cheek. Still cold from being outside. “I think the words you are looking for are more along the lines of, ‘please, Roman, it hurts, it hurts so bad, let me down.’”

“In your dreams.”

His patience showed in a smile. The cold brush on his knuckles fell away and he made to walk off.

“Wait!” She couldn’t help it. But as he turned and with him that goddamn smile, she grit her teeth.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Let me down,” she growled.

“Why?”

“I. Have. To. Pee!”

“Well, I have a very nice power cleaner that I haven’t had the opportunity to try out yet, so…” He shrugged, turned on his heels with his hands still whimsically in the air, and went back up the stairs.

And she could do nothing but literally hang on, resigned.

Unwelcome gripes swirled through her head; should’ve run, should’ve just went to the kitchen or the garage and cut that goddamn thing off her ankle and run, should’ve fought harder, should’ve—

A pressing sensation crept up around her eyes.

No. She blinked hard, refusing to let any tears out, to relieve that pressure. No, she wasn’t going to cry here. Even if it hurt, even if she ripped her arms off, she would not fucking cry.

Every passing minute made it harder and harder to accept the pain, to breathe through it. To keep still, keep her emotions at bay. Her head drooped, further and further until her chin rested against her chest.

By the time she finally heard his footsteps come down the stairs again, followed by some thunking sounds she couldn’t place, she hung in place like a corpse, dead still, all energy spent.

Roman dragged something along behind him. An actual goddamn power cleaner. But he dropped the nozzle when he noticed there was nothing to clean and saw the state she was in.

“Oh, love.”

He approached slowly, pressed up right into her bubble again and took her face in both hands. Furious eyes glared up over his thumbs, despite her defeated aura. He tilted her head up with a murmured “Come on”. His thumbs brushed over her cheekbones and she was very glad she had been able to keep her tears in.

Unfortunately, her desperation outed her in a different way. She actually welcomed his presence. She leaned into him, because any fraction of weight lifted from her bleeding wrists was good.

Roman’s hands brushed down and he wrapped his arms around her hips. Slowly, he lifted her off her feet and she let out a surprised but relieved gasp as her wrists and calves finally got a little reprieve. He rested her weight onto his arms, letting her sit there.

“Just say it,” he whispered into her hair. “Say it and I’ll let you down.”

She made a pitiful groaning sound. Shook her head against his shoulder.

“If I were to drop you now, I bet the skin on your hands would peel off like tight gloves.”

She felt him smirk into her neck. He probably felt the deep breath she took.

“Roman…” she started. Resigned, she dropped her head, forehead resting into the crook of his neck and she whispered into the collar of his shirt. “Please. It hurts. Please, let me down.”

“Anything, love,” he whispered in return. He pulled back a little, looked her in the eyes, and slowly lowered her down until the tips of her toes danced over the floor. She mewled as the familiar pain returned, but he gently shushed her. “Just for a bit, almost there. Let me lower you down.” A crooked finger brushed over her chin and he walked away, to the beam where he carefully uncoiled the rope.

She slumped along, almost literally crumpling; her ankles buckled as soon as more weight was lowered on them, her knees and hips followed and she slowly fell to pieces on the floor.

Roman knelt down next to her. The handcuffs unlocked, clanked against the floor as he tossed them aside and he carefully lowered her arms.

He pulled a wire cutter from his pocket.

Dani watched carefully. Let out a surprised little whimper when the snap of the cuts vibrated into her skin as the wire sprang loose. Some of the silver didn’t fall away and Roman carefully peeled the remnants of wire away, pulled them out of her skin. All the while shushing her gently.

He slung her arm around his shoulder and lifted her to her feet. Another whimper and she teetered, couldn’t help but fall against him, rely on him to carry her to the metal table.

“No…” she breathed when he sat her onto the cold surface, her feet dangling above the ground. But he didn’t nudge her onto her back, only held up a finger for her to wait for a bit and he returned with some disinfectant. “No,” she said again, stronger this time, “No, that’s not—”

“It is necessary.” He wrapped a cloth around her wrist and gently squeezed.

Dani threw her head back. The hiss morphed into a strangled cry.

Once he was done and all the wounds were stinging and throbbing but neatly wrapped up, he held out an arm for her.

She ignored it and pushed herself off the table. “I can walk by myself.” Her ankles protested as soon as her weight landed on them, but she grit her teeth and walked ahead of him. Up the two flights of stairs to her room, tightly clutching the railing, with Roman following in her wake, close enough to catch her should she tip backwards. He lingered at the lockpicked door as she went inside.

“No more trying to escape. Hm?” His grin finally returned, then he closed the door and locked it with a deliberate loud click.

No… no more escaping. It was back to square one. New plans to plot. But not now. Tomorrow. All she wanted now was to lie down. Bathroom first, though.

A large bar of chocolate was waiting for her on her bedside table. So he did go out for groceries… And actually got her request, despite her escape attempt and trying to drive a knife into him.

She sat onto the bed, stretching her legs as she rested back against the pillow and inspected her wrists. It all still hurt but at least now she could rest and, most importantly, give in to gravity. A shuddering breath escaped her as she sank deeper back against her pillow. She closed her eyes, relaxed her muscles, shoulders, unclenched her fists, let down her guard.

The pressure around her eyes returned and this time she made no effort to repress it. Even swallowing thickly didn’t get rid of the lump growing and growing inside her throat. She reached out to the chocolate, broke off a large piece. The first silent tears slid over her cheekbone and she popped a piece into her mouth.

The sweetness helped, even though it felt like she was chewing on tears… A little taste of the freedom she missed. A freedom that had been so close for just a few minutes. That, and the bright hope that came with it, dangled in front of her and ripped away.

She didn’t scream, she didn’t wail, the tears just streamed over her cheeks. She kept sniffling, kept breaking off pieces of chocolate, kept chewing through the tears.

The next morning, the wrapper lay empty on the bedside stand.

-

Tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @whumpy-daydreams

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[starlightshadowsworld]

Tw child abuse

Concept: Atsushi doesn’t leave the Orphanage unscathed (combined with my headcanon that Atsushi’s weakness is fire.)

The Headmasters ire was never not aimed at Atsushi. But on that final day it felt demonic. He ran but two other staff members held him in place.

Through every punch.

Every kick to his frail broken body.

Atsushi thinks he passed out when the hot poker seared his flesh. But all he can recall from that were the sound of his own own screams.

Just as Atsushi thought he was going to die he was tossed out into the freezing night.

He was no stranger to the cold. To the pain that had become his only companion in life. But this was unbearable. Yet he gritted his teeth and crawled away from the closed gates.

His clothes were shredded from age and being torn apart into makeshift bandages. Atsushi didn’t really know how to tend to wounds, especially burns as severe as these.

It’s not like he’d ever been worth wasting medical supplies over.

Hunger was another old friend that joined him on the way. It probably sounded weird that Atsushi was grateful for it. It kept his mind off the scars that scattered across his body.

How they burned no matter how cold he was.

The tiger popped around days later and Atsushi wondered if being eaten would hurt any less.

Atsushi wasn’t really paying attention to the bandaged man’s…Dazai’s words. The cold water felt like both a blessing a curse. He contemplated jumping back in. But the evenings chill would get him if he tried.

Dazai frowned, noticing something amiss but figured it was simply Atsushi’s hunger. And yet that unease didn’t fade once Atsushi had eaten more then a few bowls of chazuke.

The relief at being full was quickly overtaken by the pain. Because now it was front and centre in Atsushi’s mind. He wasn’t listening to Dazai and Kunikida, not really.

He got up to leave and cried out when Kunikida lifted him up. For the action caused his charred shirt to rise up and rub against the burns on his stomach.

Kunikida let him go, concern flashing in his eyes as he wordlessly turned to his partner. Checking that Dazai had seen it too, which he had now.

The little bit of damage they’d manage to see was horrific. The fact Atsushi wasn’t on the ground crying in agony told them, along with the holes in his story that he was gifted.

Because no average person could survive such wounds.

Dazai jumped as the tiger leaped at him. Nullifying the ability but not before making a mental note of the patches of damaged fur.

He caught Atsushi and gently laid him on the ground. Just as Kunikida walked in closely followed by Yosano. Atsushi awoke soon enough, taking the new information about as well as one could.

And then… “Atsushi, are you hurt?” Atsushi not so subtly shrank back at the question. “It’s fine” came the immediate response.

Yosano gave Dazai and Kunikida a look and without a word both got up and left. Standing out by the door just incase.

“You’re not in any trouble.” The disbelief on his face made her both mad and sad. She’d seen to many with such an expression and it never got easier.

From the brief talk with Kunikida she could tell was Atsushi a person that assumed everything was his fault. It was probably why he got hurt to begin with. As some sort of twisted punishment.

She couldn’t wait to show those people something truly twisted.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.” The honesty might’ve been why Atsushi hesitantly rolled up his shirt. Yosano didn’t let her anger show and instead focused on inspect the wounds after gaining Atsushi’s consent.

Her touch was feather light and he slowly began to explain how he got such injuries to begin with. “You didn’t deserve any of that” she hoped one day he’d believe her. For now Yosano was just relieved he’d let her treat his wounds.

Without her gift that is which she wasn’t surprised by but accepted. Atsushi had suffered enough anyway.

Yosano did what she could. Kunikida used his ability to conjure up any equipment she didn’t have on hand. While Dazai sat by Atsushi’s side and regaled him in the most ridiculous tales as he laid in their infirmary.

Atsushi should’ve been admitted to the hospital but with the bounty there was no chance of that happening. He was afraid but he seemed to have done trust in them. Which after all he’d been through was a miracle in enough itself.

His burns were severe and he’d developed a fever but Atsushi would heal. It would take a lot of work, regular check ups and salves but slowly but surely he would heal. Hopefully it wouldn’t just be his injuries.

“So he’s joining us right?” Asked Yosano, stepping out to the main office. It was only the three of them here at this hour. “Yup” said Dazai and though Kunikida looked sceptical he nodded.

“Alright, but we’ll have to post pone the entrance exam and we’ll need to ensure his health is a priority during his time with us” and on Kunikuda rambled because he’d already grown fond over Atsushi.

The other two teased Kunikida as they made a scheduleso that someone would be with Atsushi throughout the night. Checking up on him and making very elaborate revenge plots against his orphanage.

Atsushi was one of theres they just needed to make it official.

[thewholesomebean]

@ask-lab-rats hi! i was the one that sent an ask about writing a fic / oneshots based around your au, and ended up getting this done fairly quickly!!

may not be the best but that scene has been on my mind all day so i was just excited to get this done

tw: blood & injury

Taco watched in a daze as Paintbrush was hauled off, lost to the world around her until a shout of her name reached her ears, the volume damn near making her flinch. Cold fear still ran through her from just how close she’d gotten to punishment, leaving her on high alert as OJ yelled at her.

“How could you just let them take the blame for you!?”

“I- I- they stood up for me!?” She responded, tone questioning as if she didn’t even know herself.

“But you did it!” Way to point out the obvious, Taco thought despite herself, her gaze meeting Paper’s as he tried to get OJ to calm down. She hardly even thought about her next words, the only thought on her mind being defending herself.

“Well, it’s not like anyone else was gonna. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Because it should’ve been you.” Taco tried not to let the words hurt too badly. Luckily, she wasn’t given enough time to focus on it, as Pickle approached OJ a moment later, placating words spilling from his mouth.

“Hey! There’s no need for that!” OJ shoved Pickle away, angering Taco even further. She distantly heard Paper say something, but the words didn’t really register before she spoke.

“How dare you!? Leave Pickle out of this!”

“Why should I?”

“OJ! There’s no need for that!” That was probably the loudest Taco had ever heard Paper talk, but it still didn’t get through to OJ.

“Oh!? You wanna fight? I’ll show you a fight!” She hadn’t even realized her hands were raised in front of her, balled into fists like she was seconds from punching him. Turns out, his words were the thing that prompted her to do just that. The hit connected, but hardly deterred him, one of his hands reaching towards her face. Sharp pain erupted, but she couldn’t quite tell what he’d done to cause it. Instinctively, she shoved him away, sending OJ crashing to the floor and giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Taco hadn’t noticed Ballon nor the knife he held, not until she saw OJ grab it as he stood from the corner of her eye. Panic sent her pulse racing, but she didn’t have the time to put enough distance between them. The metal of the blade glinted in the bright lights of the room before it was plunged towards her face.

“Oh shit.”

She’d dealt with a lot of pain over the course of her life, but this was definitely one of the words. Taco’s hands came up to cover her face as soon as she got away from OJ, warm blood coating her palms. Someone was screaming, and she was pretty sure it was her, voice mixing with the others around her. It was only when Pickle came over that she tentatively moved her hands away from her eye, tightly shut against the pain. Blood spilled down her face. There was a gentle hand resting on her, but it did nothing to stop the way her entire body shook.

Before long, someone was in front of her, one of the doctors. She couldn’t speak, unable to get any words out. Her throat felt raw from screaming earlier, but she swore she hadn’t been doing it for that long. Taco couldn’t focus on what anyone was saying, voices mixing together behind her as she was gently lead from the room.

[tickly-tufts]

Once Bitten, Twice Teased

finally letting miguel be a ler after four whole fics dedicated to wrecking him

ft. lee!peter cuz he’s earned it, and ler!mj cuz i love that for her <3

—

“You paralyzed my husband.”

“He deserved it.”

“Probably, but I’d like an explanation anyway.”

“He was annoying me…” Miguel paused. “…and said I had fangs like a kitty cat.”

It took everything in MJ not to laugh. The mental image was simply too good. Miraculously, she managed to hold back, though she did smile at Miguel’s pout.

“So, you bit him to prove a point?”

“The fangs are no joke,” Miguel defended. Then, sounding just a bit sheepish… “The venom will wear off in an hour.”

Whatever he expected MJ to say next, it wasn’t what she actually asked.

“How much can he feel while he’s stuck like this? Does the venom cause any numbness?”

“He can still feel everything… but this is a punishment. If you’re planning to-“

“That’s not what I mean.” Leaning in with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, MJ made her proposition. “How’d you like to help me get some payback?”

—

Peter’s face lit up when MJ entered the room, and if he’d been able, she knew he would’ve rushed her. Beyond the change in expression, however, he didn’t move a single muscle. Miguel had placed him in the center of their bed, arms laid neatly at his sides. Noticing the pillow under Peter’s head, MJ smiled. What a softie.

“How ya feelin’, Tiger?” She sauntered over, taking a seat right beside her husband.

“Migs is mean,” Peter pouted. “I can’t believe he actually bit me.”

“Well, you did make fun of his fangs. Not your brightest idea,” MJ countered lightly. Peering at his neck, she soon spotted the bite marks. “Want me to kiss it better?” she offered sweetly.

Peter couldn’t nod but his gaze turned hopeful, and MJ leaned down to hover over the marks. Her breath puffed against them, and Peter would’ve shivered, but his muscles simply refused to respond. He smiled when he felt MJ’s lips, soft and warm against his skin. Then she began peppering small kisses along his neck, and he instantly remembered that kisses could tickle.

“Hmph!” Peter stifled the urge to giggle. The situation was already embarrassing enough. At least MJ would be pulling back soon. He just needed to control himself until-

“AH!” he yelped when kissing became nibbling, right where Miguel had bitten him before. “W-Wait, Em- Nohoho!” he cracked when he realized her true intentions.

MJ paused a few seconds later, shifting to whisper in his ear. “Do you remember that time you strung me up in the living room, then decided to tease me until the webs dissolved?”

Oh. Oh no. Peter did remember. He remembered that evening quite fondly, actually. MJ had collapsed into his arms afterwards, thoroughly flushed and swearing revenge. Of course, Peter had laughed it off at the time, doubting she’d ever catch him that compromised. It would be another decade before Miguel found them… and now, he’d served Peter right up for MJ.

“You’ve got to tell me the full story later,” Miguel interjected, done hiding his presence. Peter gawked as MJ patted the other side of the bed, giving Miguel a peck once he was close enough.

“Have you two been plotting against me?!”

“No, I specifically bit you for being a nuisance. The plan was to leave you in here alone… but MJ came up with a better idea.”

MJ beamed at Miguel, then focused her attention back on Peter. “Now, let’s find out where you’re most sensitive…” Peter cringed as his past words were echoed back at him.

Her fingers grazed across his ribs first, nails easily felt even through his shirt. It really wasn’t that bad a spot, but Peter’s breath still hitched at the touch. He had no chance of resistance, mouth curling up as nails dragged down. The fact he couldn’t even try to turn away made him overly aware of his own nerves.

MJ went from his uppermost left rib all the way to the bottom, then wiggled her fingers on the way back up. It was ticklish enough to earn a few snickers, but nothing too dramatic yet. That was until Peter felt a dig on his right, squawking when the tickling crept between his ribs.

“Wait- Wahahait!”

Miguel did not wait, fingers burrowing in without hesitation.

Peter’s mind demanded he move, but all he could physically do was laugh. It only spiraled when MJ switched spots, pinching at his much more ticklish side. The squeal he couldn’t quite suppress didn’t escape either tormentor’s notice.

“Shitshitshit! Thahat’s sohoho unfahahahair!” Peter swore when Miguel’s claws traced down his other side.

Claws and nails… it was a deadly combination. Peter couldn’t say which side was worse. If he’d been able, he would’ve been wriggling from one to the other, indecisive and frenzied. Unfortunately, as things stood, he had no choice but to endure both together. Miguel scratched carefully along his right flank, while MJ raked ruthlessly at his left.

“Mehehean! You’re bohohoth so mehean!”

“Pobrecito,” Miguel replied.

“Oh, babe, you think this is mean? Just you wait,” MJ promised.

A nervous thrill shot straight through him. How wrecked would he be by the end of this? He’d never felt so uniquely defenseless, safe from real harm, but not from this. His sides were bad, but not terrible. What would happen when they found his actual weakness?

All these thoughts were quickly halted by MJ poking around his waist.

“Nonono- Dohohon’t!” Peter giggled uncontrollably.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re helpless,” MJ cooed, kneading his love handles. Her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, bypassing his only means of defense. It tickled so much that Peter’s laughter pitched higher, which didn’t escape Miguel’s notice.

“Que precioso,” Miguel teased, knowing it was a phrase Peter would understand. Right on cue, Peter blushed, and Miguel smirked in satisfaction. It was the exact reaction he’d been seeking, after so many instances of Peter flustering him.

Revenge garnished with extra affection, easily shared among three.

Peter flushed even further when MJ proceeded to lift his shirt. She pushed the hem all the way to his chest, exposing his pale abdomen. Just like that, he was on display for his equally gorgeous wife and boyfriend… and then insecurity reared its head, reminding him of his current physique.

Objectively, it was absurd. They'd both seen his gut before, and he was hardly one for bashfulness nowadays… but still, to have all their attention focused right there, while he couldn’t even cover his face? Apparently that was just a bit too much. Peter didn’t tense up, mainly because he couldn’t, yet his partners still noticed the shift in his mood. Of course they did... observant as ever. He shut his eyes to avoid examining their expressions.

There was a beat, then finally movement, but not from the direction he'd been expecting. Instead of MJ, sweet and familiar... it was Miguel whose lips brushed bare skin first. Peter's eyes shot back open and MJ caught his gaze, understanding reflected in her own. Then she glanced at Miguel, her lips quirking, and Peter’s attention jumped to him.

His heart skipped when he found Miguel staring, intense and analytical. Then it dropped as Miguel inhaled deeply, before blowing the most devastatingly ticklish of raspberries.

Peter screeched, barely calming when Miguel ultimately switched to nibbling. The tips of Miguel’s fangs grazed against his belly, pressing down too gently to break any skin. That was when MJ joined back in, too, peppering tickly kisses wherever Miguel wasn't. Peter giggled, then released a squeak when she poked at the softest part of his stomach.

If Peter had been a luckier man, the pair might've concluded around there. He rarely was, though, so of course they weren't done. MJ's next statement sealed his fate.

"We should lift his arms," she suggested to Miguel, and Peter nearly broke into a cold sweat. He didn't say a word as they guided his limbs. Miguel raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic silence.

"Hold on, are you nervous?" he had to ask, curious amusement coloring his tone.

"Wha- No! I'm just... getting tired?" Not entirely false, but not convincing either.

Indirectly calling his bluff, MJ reached out a hand, watching Peter's eyes. He anxiously tracked her slow approach, worsening the suspense for himself. Abruptly, Miguel inched forward, and Peter would've flinched if he'd been able. There was no way to track both of them.

Not that it mattered, once the tickling restarted.

"NOHOT THEHEHERE!" Peter screeched after a swear unbecoming of the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. MJ's nails scribbled at his left underarm, while Miguel's thumb massaged his right hollow. “DOHON'T- I CAHAHAN’T!" He wanted to thrash, but he couldn't even manage a twitch. "PLEHEHEHEASE!” It was a maddening experience. Being tied up had nothing on this.

If only he could lower his arms, or twist away, or struggle at all. It didn't help that he was just too damn ticklish in that spot. Miguel and MJ exploited his weakness in distinctly different ways, and thus it didn't take long at all for the contrasting sensations to overwhelm him.

As soon as tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks, they both pulled back to let him breathe.

“Alright there, Tiger?” MJ pet his hair, a hint of worry entering her voice.

“…Could I get some water?”

His partners relaxed, and Miguel nodded. “Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a bottle and towel, first wiping Peter’s face, then sitting him up on the pillows, then carefully lifting the bottle to his lips.

“Thanks,” Peter said after a long drink. “You two are weirdly diabolical.” He glanced at MJ. “Especially you.”

“Just means you have a type,” MJ countered smoothly.

"Hot and sadistic?"

"You said it, not me~"

And then before his brain could stop his mouth-

"Just as ticklish, too." Why would he say that.

Miguel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You know, we’ve still got time before the venom wears off.”

“Doesn’t seemed like he’s really learned his lesson, huh?”

Peter squeaked when something soft caressed his ear. MJ had a feather… no, make that two.

“W-When did you get those?!” He watched helplessly as she handed the second feather to Miguel.

“Aww, did you think I came unprepared? I knew you’d talk back enough to earn this~”

And then both feathers were twirling inside his ears, and he could only squeal for mercy.

[seoll3miwrites]

Masquerade | Lyutsifer Safin x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Masterlist | Part 2 to "Cherry" 6 months after the events in vegas, Y/N has a unexpected reunion with the mysterious figure who had both saved and endangered her life. (WC: 3484)

Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, slight praise kink, AFAB! reader.

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

After the incident in Vegas, Y/N had been put on leave for four months. M had told her it wasn’t a punishment but to give her time to recuperate from the effects of the drugs. It had been the longest four months of her life.

Even after her leave ended, she was then given exclusively domestic assignments. Hence why Y/N currently finds herself in the middle of a ballroom wearing a rabbit-shaped mask and an elegant glittering white dress.

She’d been assigned as one of the bodyguards for a foreign princess, attending an exclusive masquerade ball. Thankfully, because the princess was young, she left before nine, and Y/N was permitted to stay and enjoy the ball as an attendee.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you again, 'Cherry,” a familiar voice whispered closely in her ear, causing Y/N to turn her and gaze into the piercing blue eyes hidden behind a black wolf mask.

“How did you get in here?” She asked her voice a whisper so as not to gain too much attention.

“I was invited.” Safin had answered, smirking. “I must say I prefer this to what you were wearing the last we met.”

She couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks as he spoke. The silence she experienced during her four-month leave allowed her time to think. As she tried to think back to that night and her next plan of action, she always found herself thinking of him.

“Why are you speaking to me?” Y/N whispered harshly, still staring into his eyes.

"Does a man need a reason to talk to a beautiful woman?" He asked, his voice still low, seductive. Y/N shivered as she felt his eyes on her, moving them downwards as he admired the exposed skin of her chest.

“A man like you does.” She answered, looking away to watch the couples dance in hopes of distracting herself.

"And what kind of man do you think I am, Miss Y/L/N?" Safin took a step closer, closing the distance between them. He lifted his hand, placing it on her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him.

Y/N couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden contact, “A man who definitely has ulterior motives.”

"And what ulterior motives would that be?" He leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing against her ear.

She subconsciously leaned backwards into him for a moment before quickly pulling away from him. “I want no part in your plans.”

With that, she shook herself and grabbed the first man she saw to pull her onto the dance floor to get away from him. It was not until the stranger put her hands on her waist roughly did she come to regret the decision. He was a tall blonde, but the smug smirk on his masked face showed her he was an egotistical rich kid.

"Well, you sure are forward." He drawled out as they began to waltz.

“Believe me, this isn’t what I intended to do tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” he spun her, suddenly making her head spin. “I have that effect on women.”

God Y/N just wanted this to end. Instead, the song still had a few minutes left, so she sighed and resigned herself to being stuck with this unfortunate dance partner. The man tried to make conversation, but it was all hallow bragging about how rich he was, or more accurately, his parents.

As the music neared its end, Y/N stiffened as she spotted Safin approaching from behind the blonde and tapping him on the shoulder, interrupting the dance.

“May I cut in?” His voice was cold; it came out as a command rather than a question.

The blonde was about to protest, but a sharp look from Safin made him lose his nerves, and he stepped away. Allowing for Safin to place his arm around Y/N’s waist and pull her close as the next song began.

As they began to dance, Y/N was silent for a moment before she looked up at him and asked, “Aren’t you worried about drawing attention to yourself?”

"I've dealt with unwanted attention before." He replied, his voice low. "And I assure you, no one in this room will dare question me."

He took a step forward, moving her closer to him, their bodies nearly pressed against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, the subtle scent of her perfume filling his senses.

"Oh, I’m aware of your power, Lyutsifer Safin.” Y/N spoke, revealing her knowledge of his identity. After the incident those months ago, she’d secretly researched heavily into the mysterious man who’d broken her cover so easily yet had let her go.

"You have done your research, it seems." He chuckled, amused.

As they continued to dance, Lyutsifer’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her even closer to him, their bodies now almost flush. He looked down at her, a hint of condescension in his eyes.

"And what do you make of me, Miss Y/L/N?"

She hesitated for a moment before she answered, “To be frank, not much; over these last few years you’ve been a ghost, just a whisper. But one name stands out next to yours. Spectre.”

Lyutsifer’s face hardened at the mention of Spectre, a flicker of anger and pain crossing his features. His hand on her waist tightened to the point of being painful. He could feel the pulse of anger thrumming just beneath the surface.

"You know about Spectre?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

She scoffed lowly, “Of course I know about Spectre; I helped bring most of the lower circle in.”

"You helped bring them in?" He repeated, his voice laced with interest. "You were a part of that operation?

“Well, I won’t take full credit." Y/N replied modestly, “Double O Seven did the most work.”

He took a step forward, pulling her closer, their bodies almost touching now. He leaned in, his breath teasing her ear. "How did you end up involved with them anyway?"

Y/N inhaled sharply at his breath before answering calmly, “I was an orphan; MI6 recruited me because I had nothing to lose and nobody to miss me.”

His grip on her waist relaxed slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he looked at her closely, studying her face, trying to gauge her expression.

"I've made my peace with it," she replied truthfully, looking intently at his face with an expression of acceptance.

He gently tilted her chin up with his other hand, holding her gaze.

"You've made peace with a lonely existence, yet here you stood tonight wearing a beautiful dress, dancing the night away." He mused, his voice low and contemplative.

She wasn’t sure what to say in response to his words; instead, she remained silent and focused on the music. Lyutisfer watched her carefully, keeping his hand on her waist as he guided her around the dance floor.

They danced in silence for a while, only broken at her question. Her voice was almost a whisper and showed her vulnerability. “I don’t understand, why me?”

Lyutsifer looked down at her, his eyes holding hers in a steely gaze. He held her close, his grip tight, almost possessive.

"Why you, Miss Y/L/N?" He murmured.

“Just tell me." Her voice was strained, tense from the tension she was feeling between the two of them.

Lyutsifer leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Perhaps this should be taken somewhere more private?”

She knew deep down that going anywhere private with him was dangerous; it was asking for trouble. His suggestion was both thrilling and terrifying, and she knew it was too late to protest. She found herself hesitantly nodding.

He smiled, pleased with her agreement, no matter how hesitant she was. As the music approached its close, Lyutsifer took her hand and quickly led her from the dance floor and out of the ballroom. The hallways were completely empty save for a few guards, but they ignored the pair as Lyutsifer escorted her far away from the ball and into an empty parlour room.

As they stepped inside, the air grew thick with the sudden tension of being alone. Y/N realised that anything could happen here and no one would ever know. She heard the door click as Lyutsifer closed it behind them. He approached her, keeping his eyes focused on hers as he reached out to graze his fingers on the side of her neck.

A shiver spread through her body, and her gasp filled the silent air. “This is too dangerous.”

He stepped closer and pushed her backwards into the wall. “Then why did you come with me so readily?”

“I’m not sure.”

Lyutsifer chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent a shiver through her body. He had her trapped against the wall, his body pressed against hers, the heat between them intensifying.

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "You could have left; you could have called for help." His lips brushed her neck, and his voice whispered with seduction. "But you didn't, did you?"

“I should have." It was harder for her to say, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

"No, darling, there's nothing wrong with you," he murmured, his fingers tracing a line down her neck, caressing the sensitive skin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her collarbone, planting a soft, lingering kiss there.

Her back arched as he kissed her collarbone, letting out a small moan in pleasure. Unable to stop herself, she gripped the back of his neck to pull him closer. He continued to trail kisses down her collarbone and neck until he suddenly pulled away. They looked each other in the eye with an unreadable expression before Lyutsifer grabbed her cheeks and pulled her into a heated kiss.

She closed her eyes as she responded to the kiss eagerly. As His scarred lips pushed against hers, desire continued to pool in Y/N’s stomach. Lyutsifer pushed forward, placing his left leg in between her own; in response, Y/N began to gently grind herself on his thigh.

Lyutsifer responded with matching desire, deepening the kiss and gripping her cheeks with a firm, possessive grip. His left hand slipped to her hip, holding her tightly against him.

With a hand against his chest, Y/N pushed against his chest and reached up to hold the mask covering his face. “May I?”

Lyutsifer pulled back slightly, a hint of surprise in his eyes at her question. He looked at her, his gaze intense and unreadable.

"You want to see my face." He stated it as a fact, his voice almost nonchalant. "Why?" His grip on her cheek tightened slightly.

“It’s too impersonal to kiss you behind a mask,” she replied, forgetting she was still wearing a mask of her own. “Besides, I have seen it before.”

He studied her, his expression contemplative, before his fingers moved to her own mask, pulling it off and stroking his hand against her cheek.

"You're right. Too impersonal." He admitted, his voice quieter. "But are you sure you want to see it? It's not exactly pretty."

“But it’s your face; I want to see it.” She replied, already reaching underneath it to pull it up and off his face.

As his mask was removed, Lyutisfer watched her eyes widen as she took in the sight of his face. He knew it was a shock—the scars, the disfigurement—but he didn't look away, holding her gaze in an unflinching stare.

"You're not, repulsed?"

“It’s like lightning, beautiful.”

"Beautiful," he echoed, the word a whisper. "You see beauty in this disfigurement?"

She smiled slightly at him, far more comfortable than she knew she should be. “They may not be as big, but I also have my fair share of scars.”

He looked her over, taking in the way the soft light played across her skin and the way the dress clung to her body. His eyes zeroed in on the hint of scars peeking out from the edges of her dress, and his heart lurched. Scars that mirrored his own, scars that held a silent history.

"Show me." He murmured, his hand coming up to cup her face, tilting her chin up towards him. "Let me see them."

At his words, her confidence faulted slightly. While she’d never been insecure about her scars, she was suddenly aware of how vulnerable she had made herself in this moment. Nevertheless, she carefully turned around and allowed him to unzip the back of her dress.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hand reach out and slowly pull the zip down, revealing her scarred back to him. Across her back were several long, jagged lines of scarring; the lighter colour made them stand out against her skin in the low light.

“I got caught during an undercover; their favourite method of torture was whipping.” She explained quietly as she felt his hands softly trace across her back.

“Beautiful,” Lyutsifer muttered before leaning forward and placing a small kiss in the centre of her spine, causing her to let out a soft, breathy moan. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her closer, and he continued to trail kisses upwards to her neck.

“Please.” She breathed out, but she had no idea what she was asking for, having to place a hand on the wall in front of her to steady herself.

He chuckled against her skin, "Please what, Dragotsennyy?" He asked in a whisper. "Use your words."

“I don’t know.” Her mind was racing, but all she could focus on was the feelings of him kissing and breathing on her back.

"You're thinking too much, darling." He murmured against her skin, his lips moving up to her ear, his tone commanding.

Y/N pulled away and slowly turned to face him, her back now pressed against the wall. “It’s hard not to.”

"You have a habit of overthinking, don't you?" he commented, a hint of humour in his voice.

He smirked as he moved his hand from her waist and slid through the slit in her dress, gently massaging her inner thigh. Y/N gasped at his sudden action, arching her back slightly and pressing her chest against his.

After shaking herself slightly, she replied, “Someone has to.”

"You're too independent," he murmured, his hand continuing to knead her thigh. "Too focused on control. You need to let go, sometimes."

Before she could respond, Lyutsifer moved his hand from her thigh and simply grazed Y/N’s core through her underwear. She responded with a loud moan, “Fuck, Lyutisifer.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Language, dragotsennyy." He whispered, his fingers still rubbing against her.

All the young agent could do was whimper in response, her eyes closed as she began to gently grind against his fingers. He chuckled again, feeling her writhe and grind against his fingers, her whimper echoing in the air. Her reaction was exactly what he wanted—a beautiful, desperate need for more.

He brought his other hand to her face, tilting it, forcing her to look up at him. His gaze captured her, intense and unwavering.

"Open your eyes, Dragotsennyy," he commanded. "Look me in the eye."

She opened her eyes and gazed into his crystal eyes before almost squeezing them shut when Lyutsifer took the opportunity to slide her underwear aside and immediately circle her clit.

He leaned in closer, his lips practically touching her ear as he whispered, "Don't close your eyes; look at me." His fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements against her.

As his stroking continued, Y/N obediently kept her eyes connected with his stare. Only fluttering slightly as she whined and moaned from his touch.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips as she kept her eyes on his. He loved watching her in this state, completely at his mercy, completely under his control.

His fingers continued their slow, deliberate rhythm, drawing out her moans and whines, his eyes never leaving her face. He wanted to see every reaction, every expression, and every moment that flitted across her face.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So responsive, so beautiful."

After he spoke, Lyutsifer gently pushed his index finger forward and into her soaking entrance. Unable to control her body, a sudden electric sensation spread through and caused her to arch her back, eyes rolling back slightly, eyes fluttering shut.

“No, no, Dragotsennyy," he chided softly, his fingers continuing their slow, deliberate rhythm. "Eyes on me. Open them." His tone was firm, commanding control.

“I can’t,” she choked out, hands moving to grip his neck. “It’s too much.”

He smirked, loving the way she gripped his neck, needing something to hold onto. He could see the pleasure written all over her face and could hear it in her voice. She was on the edge, about to fall.

"Yes, you can." He countered, his tone firm. His fingers continued to move, but he slowed just slightly, wanting to prolong the moment, the edge of sweet release just out of reach.

"Look at me." He repeated, his voice low, commanding.

Her eyes flew open at his command, ever the obedient. She pulled his face closer so their foreheads touched, still looking deep into his eyes and moaning loudly as she reached her peak,  almost shrieking in ecstasy.

Her scream of ecstasy echoed through the room, her body trembling with the intensity of her climax. He held her close, their foreheads touching, his fingers still moving but far more slowly, bringing her back down gently.

He watched her, captivated by the sight of her, by the raw, unguarded pleasure on her face, by the way her eyes stayed on his, even as she rode out the wave of her release.

He pulled her close as her body finally relaxed, whispering against her cheek, "Beautiful. You're so beautiful like this."

Still coming down from her high, she didn’t speak. Instead, she lent forward and gently kissed him before resting her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath.

She was breathless, her breaths still coming in gasps as she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He gently held her, his hand rubbing small circles on her back, feeling the slight tremors still running through her body.

"You did so well, Dragotsennyy," he murmured against her ear. "You were so good, so responsive."

As he spoke, his hand trailed down her back before carefully zipping her dress back up, causing shivers to spread through Y/N’s body again. She leant further against him in exhaustion.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” She said, her voice hoarse, and nothing more than a whisper.

He laughed softly, her words a weak, weary protest against what they had just done. He had seen the way she responded to his touch, the way she lost herself in ecstasy, the way her body trembled in pleasure.

"You enjoyed it," he responded. "Don't pretend otherwise."

“That’s the problem,” the young agent answered as she pulled herself upwards in an attempt to move away. “It can’t happen again if anyone finds out...”

Before she could finish, Lyutsifer grabbed her cheek, making her face him. “Then I could claim you as my own; no one would get in my way.”

It was a firm declaration, a possessive gesture that spoke volumes. He was claiming her in more ways than one. His eyes locked onto hers, unflinching, as he continued to hold her gaze.

Suddenly the door opened to the room they had hidden away in, and a mysterious man in a suit appeared. He didn’t seem surprised by what he found and instead looked directly at Lyutsifer and said, "Dr. Safin sir, we have a problem.”

"A problem?" he enquired, his expression turning serious at the man's words. He released his grip on Y/N, turning fully to face the newcomer. "What kind of problem?"

The newcomer glanced at Y/N in slight caution before turning back to his boss, “I think it’d be best to discuss in private.”

“It’s fine I was just leaving.” She spoke up as she pulled herself away and moved towards the door.

"Wait," he said, his tone firm. He watched as she hesitated, her hand on the door handle, then turned back to him, "We're not quite done here."

“I’m sorry, but I think we are.” With that, she turned the handle and swiftly left the room.

Footsteps echoed as she excited the room and quickly walked down the corridor to the main entrance, afraid she was being followed. When she left the building, she quickly found a taxi to take her home.

It was almost cruel how similar this was to that night all those months ago. She allowed him to get to close again, and she had run. And yet, despite how much danger she had already put herself in, all she wanted to do was run back inside.

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Wanted to do this random Adam QnA thing I found on Twitter here cause I thought’s it be fun!

(I encourage you too as well ^o^)

(Credit to the original poster on Twitter of course !!)

100% my Fav, if my Tumblr wasn’t an indicator of that lol. A major reason being that he has so much more to his character than first glance (especially in terms of angst for fics) he very clearly has some self worth issues and puts that into his personality by making himself more palatable to a larger audience would enjoy. (Mean Rockstar persona) Also him looking for validation from Sera was already a huge indicator that there’s more to him than ‘Haha funny evil fat man >:)’ But I do really like Angel, Lucifer, and Vaggie a lot.

Adam ships are complicated for me. Let’s get the obvious ones out of the way, I LOVE AdamsApple, GuitarSpear, and more recently GuitarGate. But While AdamsApple is my major one, I only like it if it’s done right. I dislike when they make, for example, Sinner Adam get treated like garbage by Lucifer and he’s in charge of ‘punishing’ Adam or something like that. IDK the concept just seems toxic, which I know, the ship itself WILL have inherent levels of toxicity, but it still rubs me the wrong way. Just my opinion tho

As for ships I don’t like, I’m pretty open with his ships but one I’m not a fan of is GuitarPrincess. There’s nothing illegal with it, so I’m not going to attack you for it. Im just not a fan of it. Another one is probably Alastor x Adam. I just don’t see it. They both oppose eachother in literally everything. Adam hates Jazz, Alastor loves it. Alastor doesn’t seem to like people more powerful than him and only respect them because he’s afraid of them (just my theory) and he clearly didn’t respect Adam because he completely underestimated how strong the first man would be. but ship what you want within reason OFC

Sigh I wish. I LOVE the concept of Sinner! Adam because IT JUST MAKES SENSE! The whole show is about redemption and how bad of a soul can actually be redeemed in the hotel. Him being reincarnation as a sinner would be both the perfect karma for him, but also the perfect test for Charlie. She couldn’t turn him away, even if she hates him. She’d be a massive hypocrite for letting Alastor work with her and also just general defeating the purpose of a hotel being completely open to all sinners.

But…. Something I’ve had a constant fear for about Adam coming back as a sinner is, that Lute might kill him. I just feel like it’s something that COULD happen as her view of sinners becomes even more warped. I just wouldn’t want that to happen, to bring him back only to kill him would be worse than just not bringing him back at all.

As for what I would want to happen, I’d like to see him and Lucifer ‘reconcile’ and to know more about what actually happened in Eden. With them reconciling, I also don’t want it to be solely on Adam to do, Lucifer also has to be able to accept that he hurt Adam and pretty much fucked him up for life. I don’t want the entire blame of the issue to be on Adam because it just seems like a waste of character development for BOTH of them.

Whether or not Adam will return in season 2… I would say he won’t. I think Abel is there to fill his absence BUT I do think we’ll get him in Season 3 (maybe even teased in the end credits of season 2 maybe?) I do want him to return, but I want it to be handled with care. I want him to have a redemption arc because it’d suck if characters like Lucifer, Vox or LILITH are given a slap on the wrist for what they’ve done in the show. And I ESPECIALLY don’t want them to kill him after he returns or make him a joke character to be bullied 😔

Hmmmm, I’d like to think he’s a good dad for the sole reason that I love Dad! Adam content, but I can see it going either way TBH. Abel seems more open to people and less of an asshole, so he probably thinks of Abel as a Wimp. But I think that his view of Abel was heavily affected by what happened with him and Cain. He could potentially see Abel as nothing but a child because he see’s him as helpless after witnessing his death. (Similar to how Sera sees Emily)

My main and only hope is that they don’t make him an Abusive deadbeat or something (if they do I WILL ignore it lol)

Does this need to be answered if you know me? Here’s my masterlist 😏

I WISH I HAD MERCH OF HIM 😭😭 I’ve been trying to work on a Plushie of him literally all year with my mom but it’s been so hectic that we never got to finish it. We’ve gotten the base design done and only need to figure out blueprint stuff. But he’s currently made of scrap material. If I EVER get him done I will definitely post it here!

Well I have a plethora of them but some main ones are:

He has abandonment issues and has a hard time connecting with people.

Insecure about his looks (Face, BODY, and voice)

Speaking of body, he’s plus size 1000% IM NOT SORRY. That is a Fat Man, 😤

And lastly, he’s a closeted bisexual, you’re telling me he knew who Angel Dust was (a famous GAY pornstar in hell) but not Alastor? One of the scariest, infamous Sinners out there? Really? He has done things he is not proud of, one of which being a man named Steve.

YESSSSSSSS. How can anybody call him ugly, I SWEAR. Mask, hot. His face? Hot. Everything is hot. As for the main thing attractive with his design, with the mask, definitely the LED face, don’t know why, it’s just so NWAOHSKAIAB. And without mask, I loooooove his eyebaggs/eyeliner and also his stubble. It’s just those subtle details of character design that shows that he’s definitely not in the best head space (eyebags, stubble, and paler skin being big indicators of men’s physical indicator of their mental health not doing so hot) so I just love him a lot!

I would like to see him interact with Saint Peter and Emily (they HAVE to have the most hilarious interactions. Those innocent angels meeting the vulgar first man would be a dream come true 😭) and also Abel and/or Cain. If they make him a sinner, it’s more than likely he would have interactions with Cain at some point. Not to mention, I’d like to know how Abel died. Cause in the Bible he was the first human to die, but in Hazbin, Adam was the first. So maybe Cain killed Adam then Abel? Or maybe Abel was sent to purgatory and was only let out after Adam died? Who knows!

(And I can’t put the picture here cause of the photo limit but)

10: What would you do if you met Adam IRL

’ll take him to my penthouse and I’ll freak it. >:)

[flicklikesstuff]

Not Disney establishing their characters with trauma but still going out of their way to frame them as the ones in the wrong despite what they’re doing is in some way a survival response. TWICE.

Explanation in case some of you take this the wrong way:

Magnifico reacted terrified because the bright light brought back memories of his village getting destroyed. The forbidden book was meant to be a last resort since literally no one else took the “threat” seriously. The kingdom’s citizens only concern was just asking for more wishes. Which made him understandably upset.

Amaya and Dahlia even looked through the book themselves to see if they could break the “book’s hold on him.” and even found out “there’s no way to return back from using dark magic.”

So, the movie implies that what used to be a protective king who wanted to protect his people from the same tragedy that occurred to him was possessed. His actions weren’t his own. If the movie didn’t want us to conclude that Mag wasn’t possessed, maybe they shouldn’t have put the book as a lazy excuse in the first place. Or even yet, why give him a tragic backstory if they’re never bringing it up again later on?

And while you can argue that Magnifico’s method of taking people’s wishes wasn’t right, his punishment in the end wasn’t completely deserved. And claiming that there’s zero chance of redemption when there was implied possession? Seriously?

…..

Raya and the Last Dragon is self-explanatory. Raya was framed to be the one in the wrong despite the MULTIPLE times the movie itself even showed how betrayal is a thing that can happen.

Raya believed in her father’s cause, but placing too much trust is what led her to losing everything. Sisu almost got turned to stone for trusting someone else in Talon.

It’s understandable why she’s so cautious around everyone. And when she saw Sisu approach Namaari even when she was holding a weapon at her direction, Raya’s trauma as a child from putting too much trust in someone else had caused her to use her weapon. She wanted to protect Sisu from what could happen because back then, she COULDN’T save her dad from his fate. It was Namaari’s finger on the trigger!

And still, the film had the AUDACITY to say it was RAYA’S fault and not a single scene was given to Namaari apologising for what she’d done.

[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You (Polin) - Part 7

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 released scenes.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)

A03 link if that's more your jam

Chapter 7

“Show me,” Penelope spoke, her voice firm and determined. “Show me how much you want me.”

A mixture of surprise and uncertainty flitted across Colin’s face, causing her to wonder if she overstepped.

After their first conversation at the park since his return, he’d been a different man. Not at all the sweet, charming Colin that she’d grown up with, the one who didn’t see her as a woman, but someone who was unhinged and volatile. Obsessive in a way she had never seen him before, demanding things he had no right to. And the way he looked at her, touched her as if she belonged to him – she didn’t know how to wrap her mind around this change.

Except now there was hesitation on his face, and he reminded her of the Colin from before. Her childhood friend. And she wondered if this was the moment the spell over him would break. Would he finally realize the truth that he truly didn’t want her? That this strange fixation was only temporary? Her heart hurt at the thought, even though she knew rationally this was for the best for both herself and him. “This was a mistake. Please leave.”

She tried to walk past him but suddenly he gripped her hand from behind, his other arm sneaking around her waist to pull her against him. Her back flushed with his front, she trembled when he leaned into whisper in her ear. “Your scent is ingrained into my brain. You’re in my every thought, every fantasy. All I think about is you.”

His lips traced a line from her ear, down the length of her neck, inhaling her in, teasing her with his warm breath, whispering wicked, wicked things. Every nerve in her body was heightened with his one hand trailing down her body, the other cupping her right breast over her dressing robe.

Breath panting, she arched back, gripping his sides for support. “Colin…”.

“I’ve imagined your breasts, what they look like, what they feel like when I cup them.” The need in his voice was potent, shocking her, but it paled in comparison to when his fingers brushed against her nipple. She jumped in response but he held her firm, locking her in his arms. His breath grew labored. “How sweet you must taste, Pen.” His other hand drifted to between her legs, stroking her mound. “Your sweet, tight cunt, so needy for me, begging to be filled with my cock… “

It was all too much, she couldn’t take it. His hands caressing her, his mouth seducing her, she was a throbbing nerve of need and wanton desire. Nothing else mattered, except the thrilling sensation from his hands all over her body.

It wasn’t until she felt him start to untie her robe that some semblance of sense returned. Underneath the robe she was clad in her sleeping gown, free of any undergarments that would give her body a desirable shape. She would practically be naked. Naked. Her large breasts, her too-soft stomach and thighs, all exposed in front of him. Immediately, panic set in. She couldn’t do it, not with him, not when any sign of disappointment from him would destroy her. Using all her resolve she nudged his hands away and attempted to move – but he didn’t let her. Instead he whirled her around in his arms and pulled her in for a kiss.

His mouth closed over hers, silencing every thought in her brain.

There was urgency in his kiss, in his touch, lifting her up in his arms like she weighed nothing. And she couldn’t get enough of him, returning his frenzied kiss while he ravaged her. Her hands frantically unbuttoned his waistcoat, practically ripping it off so she could feel his shoulders, his back, his chest whilst his own squeezed her bottom, his hardness jutting against her stomach.

Suddenly he tore his mouth away, his breath panting, perched above her and she realized they were on her bed. Somehow he had carried her from the door to the bed while she’d been completely caught up in him. Heat coursed through her body at the stark desire etched on his face; his look of awe, as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, made her head spin. His eyes were dark, so dark, almost brown, piercing through to her very soul, the rhythm of her heavy breaths matching his so they were both breathing in unison. A small voice in her head reminded her this was a terrible mistake, but then there was her heart. Her heart, that had loved him for so long and ached to be touched by him for as long as she could remember. Not just be touched, but also touch him in return. His hair, his lips, his body – everywhere.

Taking advantage of her position, she ran her fingers through his soft, tantalizing curls.

“That feels wonderful,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

His eyes met hers. “Why didn’t you?”

“You know why.” Her fingers caressed the hair on the nape of his neck. “And I shouldn’t be doing this right now.”

“Wrong. You should do that and more.”

“You can not have your way with me, Colin.”

“And you should not be haunting my every thought, yet you do.”

Her voice was playful, toying with him. “I’m not responsible for the wicked thoughts in your mind.”

“But you are.” His eyes centered on her parted lips. “You’re a temptress, Penelope. In my dreams and out of them.”

“Have you really dreamt of me?”

“Every night this past week.”

He rubbed his body against hers, and a spark of lightning rushed through her blood. Like he’d set her body on fire. Her robe was undone but she didn’t want to cover herself this time, the intimacy of having him be so close to her heated core too enthralling to stop.

“I dream of your smile, your sweet laughter.” He nuzzled the top of her head. “Your fiery mane.”

“That doesn’t sound very tempting.”

“Then you don’t see what I see.” His eyes locked with hers. “Slow taunts, wicked barbs, seducing me with your mind before you begin your true, tender assault on me.”  

Her heart started drumming in her chest.

“When you finally touch me with your hands, your mouth, I’m at the brink of madness.”

It was difficult to breathe with him peering at her, his finger slowly tracing the contours of her face. “There are times I dream about pleasuring you. What you must taste like, what you must feel like when I’m inside you, how beautiful you must look when you come for me.”

Throat parched, she swallowed and glided her tongue over her lips. His gaze followed her every movement, a man enchanted. And he was still stiff, undeniable proof that he desired her. Her. Emboldened by his response, she reached up to cup his face. “I wonder how you look.”

He raised his eyebrow. “When I climax?”

Heat rose in her cheeks.

“Do you want to get me off, Penelope?”

“Would you want me to?”

“I’ve imagined your mouth on me a thousand times. And I’ve imagined devouring your cunt just as many.”

A thrill ran down her spine, both from nervousness and excitement. “Do you touch yourself when you think of me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you… show me?”

He raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure? I’m not sure you would find it enjoyable to watch.”

“I want to see you, Colin. All of you.”

Eyes darkened, he sat back on his knees. Positioned between her legs, he simply held still, studying her for a few seconds before he loosened his breeches and pulled them down. Her eyes followed his movements. She drew a sharp breath when he freed his erection, mesmerized by the sight. He was pink and thick, the length of his shaft beautiful in a way she’d never imagined before.

“I simply have to think of you and it’s enough to get me hard. Your luscious lips, your eyes glazed, looking at me, wanting me, the way you’re doing now.” Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he started to move his hand up and down his shaft. “I think about your full breasts, how soft they felt in my hands, how lush and beautiful they would be when you finally show them to me.”

She held his gaze, wetness pooling between her legs.

“I ache at the thought of your nipples begging for my attention. How rosy and flushed they must look after I’ve spent my time licking them, suckling them, playing with them. Would they be puffy, I wonder.”

A moan escaped both of their lips, their breaths ragged.

“I intend to cover every inch of you with love bites. Some hidden, secret treasures for the two of us. Others on your neck, the top of your breasts, so the world knows you’re mine and I’ve marked you forever.”

The possessive glint in his eyes left her reeling. Instinctively she reached for her core, rubbing herself over the fabric of her nightgown. His gaze wandered down, focused on her hand while speeding up the rhythm of his own movements.

“You deserve to be pleasured for hours… I think about it… tasting you... fucking you… burying my face in your cunt… how good you’ll feel when I fuck you with my tongue… your clit…” He groaned, his cock slick as he continued to work himself.

Aroused, excited, she closed her eyes, arching her body, stroking herself vigorously until she found the secret, sensitive nub that heightened everything even more. And she thought about Colin caressing her there, kissing her there, making love to her as he promised. His guttural groan rung in her ear, ecstasy rippling through her body when his wet fingers sidled up to her own to tease her clit, his cock brushing against it. The reality of his touch was so much more erotic than her own imagination. She was completely lost in madness, everything rushing to a head before culminating in a white-hot explosion in her mind.

The world was abliss.

Fire and light danced in her mind.

She was floating, floating, her body boneless, weightless. Most of her life was spent worrying about taking up too much space and now she felt light and airy. Unburdened.

Eyes still closed, she focused on the rhythm of her breaths. One… two… three… She counted them in her mind, clinging to this feeling so it could last forever. But then things slowly started coming into focus, reality taking shape to interrupt her happiness. Sensations burst through, drawing her mind to the world around her. Colin’s breaths, slowly retuning to normal. Wetness on her body, between her legs, sticky warmth pooled on her stomach, her chest. Friction from his cock sliding down her clit.  

And then emptiness.

Colin was no longer on top of her, his heavy, pleasant weight lifted from her body. An aching loneliness spread through her upon realizing he had left her alone on the bed.

It was bound to happen, this moment was never meant to last. The spell he was under had to break at some point. Maybe it was her own shameless, reckless behavior that expedited the return of his sanity. Once again, she would be relegated back to being just Pen.

She reminded herself this was for the best. Because Arthur-

“Look at me, Pen.”

Her eyes flew open, landing on Colin as he took a seat next to her. Clad in his breeches, his shirt bunched up in his hand, the sheer beauty of him stole her breath. It took all of her resolve not to stare at his broad shoulders, the soft, crinkling of hair spread across his chest. And then he shifted closer, startling her when he started to wipe her chest with his shirt because he had spilled his seed all over her body. “I like you like this. My cum on you, my clothing soaked in your wetness. It’s as it should be.”

His words made her blush. “You should leave, Colin.”

The haunted glint in his eyes returned immediately. “I can’t.” There was desperation in his voice as he lied down beside her, cupping her face. “Let me stay here tonight, Pen?”

“You know that can’t happen. If we were to be discovered-”

“I’ll leave before the sun rises. I swear it.” Distress marked his beautiful features, his eyes pleading with her. “I’m exhausted. I can’t sleep at all. Every time I close my eyes I think of you, I’m filled with anxiety at the thought of losing you… and maybe it’s foolish but if you were next to me, if I could hold you, smell you, maybe I could get some rest then. Please, Pen?”

She wanted to hold firm and insist that he leave, but her heart couldn’t handle the anguish he was in. “Only for tonight, this can not happen again. And you must leave before dawn breaks.”

Relief flooded over his face. He leaned forward to graze her temple, his lips gentle on her skin.

She hesitated, stiffening as he pulled her against his chest. His heated skin seemed to burn through her senses, overwhelming her with his close proximity. While a part of her yearned to wrap herself around him, place her head on his chest, listen to his heartbeat, embrace him fully, she reminded herself to hold back. This was a fantasy. This couldn’t last.

“I’ve dreamt about you sleeping next to me.” His voice was a hushed murmur, his eyes a soft, dreamy blue.

She covered his mouth with her palm. “Sleep, Colin. It’ll be dawn soon.”

The corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He pulled her hand away, placing it over his heart. “Goodnight, Pen.”

Gathered in his arms, she stayed quiet as the minutes passed. Soon he was fast asleep, but she wasn’t as fortunate.

Guilt saturated her mind, refusing to give her a moment of peace.

She was angry with Colin, but mostly at herself. She had made the decision to marry Arthur, giving her a pathway to pursue other hopes and dreams, and with simply a few seductive words from Colin and her own selfishness, it all came tumbling down. She risked her carefully crafted future, because she couldn’t resist love.

She took a deep breath, her stomach coiled into knots.

Regardless of the consequences, Arthur needed to know the truth about what happened tonight. He deserved that at the very least, she had to be honest with him.

And then she had to come to terms with the fact that she had ruined her future.

To be continued...

[hockeyboysimagines]

So far from the Stars

Chapter 3

Warnings:Language, angst, smut, mentions of bars/alcohol.

Hi all! Hope you enjoy this.

If you haven’t please give a read to @cellythefloshie and I collaboration fic we’ve been working on I’ve loved you three summers -Cool for the summer.

Enjoy!

Sometimes Jeremy wondered just how he found himself in these types of situations.

Was it by design?

Was it punishment?

Was it because his life just sucked?

All three he decided. He’d never been more disgusted than he was right this very minute and he was sure that was being reflected on his face.

The night had been great.

Better than great actually.

Drinks were flowing, the group was having a great time, and Courtney was tucked into his side in a booth at their favorite bar. Though he was still upset about what had happened he was mostly just happy to be hanging out with her again. It was shaping up to be a great night and he had a tiny bit of hope that if she wasn’t too intoxicated by the end of the night, just maybe he could make another move. She’d only had one drink and hadn’t gotten a second. She was sitting closer to him than normal, head resting on his shoulder at one point and he felt like he was on top of the world.

So when he’d left her out of the booth to go to the bathroom he hadn’t expected what was about to happen. Veronica slapped his arm and leaned forward with a wide smile.

“You guys look cozy.” She hummed at him, pushing her glasses up her nose. The others were also looking at him interestedly. That gave him some hope. If they noticed it, then he wasn’t imagining it. He sometimes wondered if maybe he took her being friendly as something else, when really he was just giving himself false hope. But this time others were noticing it too.

He couldn’t help but smile and also leaned over towards her “I have no clue what you’re talking about-“ but didn’t get to finish his sentence before a voice interrupted him.

“Uhm-guys.”

They both turned along with the rest of the group to see Justin frowning. They followed his gaze to find that on her way back from the bathroom she had been intercepted by Brad.

Their eyes all swiveled towards Jeremy as they watched them speak. Courtney looked uncomfortable as she took a step back from him nodding at whatever he was saying and for a minute she was blocked from view until she made her way around him and back to where they were sitting. She looked upset as she approached, a small piece of paper in her hand. Brad was watching as she made her way back, and looked over her shoulder to find them all glaring at him, eyes narrowing when he spotted Jeremy on the end of the table being the only one looking at Courtney.

“What the fuck is he doing here? And what is that?” Justin asked pointing at the paper in her hand.

“He just moved back.” Kasey said, glancing at Veronica who made eyes back, and cleared her throat.

“It’s his- number.” She tossed it on the table “No thanks though.” Even though it had been years, that betrayal still hurt her and it was written all over her face.

“When did he move back? I didn’t know he was back here again did you?” Justin asked Veronica.

“Kasey ran into him the other day, but he- Jeremy? Are you okay?” She asked knocking on the table and then glancing at Courtney.

Jeremy had never been more mad. It was beyond mad. This was rage.

He felt a white hot heat creep up him from his toes to his face, burning up his neck, feeling like he was about to explode. He stared at the paper for a second before his eyes moved slowly up to find her staring at him.

“Hey are you-“

He stood up, knocking over a bottle, causing the others to look at him startled, and cleared his throat “I need some air.”

He made his way out of the bar, taking large steps and burst through the door, the night air hitting his face, cool against his hot skin. Thankfully no one was outside as he let out a loud frustrated “UGH!” Into the night air. He wanted to scream, cry and punch something or someone, Brad preferably, but he didn’t do any of those things because he was in public.

The first two would have to wait till he got home, and the third one he could only hope he’d get the chance at one day.

He couldn’t do this to himself anymore. He just couldn’t. He was at the end of his rope and he’d finally had enough. Even though she’d said she didn’t want his number, he had still once again ruined a time when things with them were going good. Who did he think he was talking to her after what he’d done? He had half a mind to turn right back around and beat the hell out of him for even thinking about her.

He heard the door to the bar open, and footsteps behind him but he didn’t care. Whoever it was would just witness the breakdown he was about to have and it was what it was.

But then he heard his name.

“Jeremy.”

It was Courtney. And because it was her he realized that did care. She was some feet behind him and he quickened his pace. He’d never wanted to get away from her before until now.

“Jeremy!” She called again, closer to him now.

“JEREMY!”

Finally he stopped and whipped around to find her right behind him “What?”

She flinched at his tone and he felt bad. He’d never spoken to her that way and he didn’t want to now, but he was so mad he could barely see straight and it was his own fault.

“Did-did I do something?” She looked confused.

“No you didn’t. It’s something I did. To myself and I should have stopped doing it ages ago.”

“I-what? What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath “ Last weekend you kissed me and I-“

“What?” She frowned, eyes moving around trying to think.

“That-that night we went to the bar. We came back to your house and you kissed me.” He finished quietly, looking at his feet.

“I don’t-“

“Remember yeah I know.” He said, hands in his pockets. He thought that it would feel good to get it off his chest, but if anything it made him feel worse.

“I don’t-Jeremy I-“ her eyes got a little glassy and she reached for his hand, pulling it from his pocket and gripping it “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault. I should-I should have told you how I felt years ago but instead I’ve been too afraid of what might happen if I did. That’s on me. I don’t wanna talk about this I wanna go home.” He made to pull his hand from hers but she didn’t let go. He turned and looked at her annoyed.

“Wait a minute.” She was frowning now “I’m sorry I don’t remember, but you never told me how you felt. That’s not my fault.”

He shook his head “I never said it was-“

“You didn’t have to. If you had told me-“

“What?” He said once again attempting to tug his hand from hers but she held on tighter “Would it have changed anything?”

“I don’t know. I mean maybe-“

“No it wouldn’t have and you know it.”

She raised her eyebrows “No I don’t know it. And how the hell was I supposed to know all this? You had girlfriends, and hookups, and you wanna give me a hard time for not wanting to be with you?” Now she looked angry and he didn’t blame her. He knew he was being dumb, that all of that wasn’t her fault but it didn’t make him any less mad about it. He couldn’t be any more mad at himself than he already was so he would be mad at her.

“Didn’t I make it obvious?”

“No no no. I’m not a mind reader. If you wanted me to know you should have and could have told me, not kept it to yourself just to use it against me later.”

He shook his head “That’s not-“

“Yes it is. That’s exactly what you’re doing and you know it.”

He glanced down at her hand, fingers tightly gripping his and then back up at her with a frown “I don’t wanna fight with you. Please let go of my hand.”

She frowned deeper and shook her head “No.”

“Courtney-“ he said exasperatedly. He just wanted to leave and go be mad in his own house where no one could judge him or tell him he was being stupid.

“I said-No.” She took a step closer to him, tugging his hand to pull him closer until she was eye level with his chin and looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” He looked everywhere but at her, knowing that as soon as he did he wouldn’t be mad, and even though he was 100% wrong he didn’t want to admit it.

“Look at me.”

He huffed and stiffened as he felt her tug at his hand again to get his attention and when he didn’t look she reached up suddenly and grabbed him by the chin. He was startled, eyes locking on hers. She stared at him for a second before she leaned forward pausing, eyes still on his.

Fuck it.

He moved the rest of the way, catching her mouth in a very heated kiss, hand coming to tangle in her hair. He ran his tongue across her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth allowing him to push it inside. She felt a chill run up her spine that had nothing to do with the balmy weather and a feelings she’d never had settle in the pit of her stomach, as he wrapped one of his hands around the back of her neck. She was gripping his jacket as they stood kissing on the sidewalk for several seconds before they broke apart.

She looked at him for a second, the fabric of his shirt balled up in her fists before she said very quietly “Can we leave?”

He glanced behind her to find that their friends hadn’t come to investigate and nodded, hand still on the back of her neck.

“Come on.”

20 minutes later he was unlocking his front door and allowing her to walk past him to get inside. The minute she stepped over the threshold and the door closed the air in the room changed. He shut the foot behind him and locked it, following her as she began to step forward.

He was so nervous his hands were shaking and any of the confidence he had earlier outside the bar was gone now. He’d watched her walk through his house hundreds of times, but never to his bedroom. It was dark, and he left the light off, watching as she pulled the curtain open the tiniest bit to let in some of the light outside and turned to him.

He leaned against the door frame and watched as she pulled her jacket off, and draped it over the chair by the window, before she shook out her hair. She looked ethereal, half illuminated and motioned for him to come closer.

He made his way slowly across the room, half afraid she might suddenly change her mind, until he was nearly pressed up against her. He reached a hand forward to stroke her cheek, and tangled his fingers in her hair.

She was even more dazzling up close like this, and he got lost in her eyes for a second before he leaned down and pushed his lips sweetly up against hers. It was slower than it had been 20 minutes ago, and though he was nervous, he had gained some confidence now. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he pulled her closer by the waist, fingers sliding over the soft fabric of her sweater. He moved his hands down her waist to the small of her back, fingers moving over her cool skin where her shirt had ridden up and she gave a little shiver, as he pulled it up slowly and she raised her arms above her head. Her hair was tousled and messy around her back and shoulders, a deep blush across her cheeks. He watched as she sucked in a long breath, and pulled him back to her, hands reaching to pull his own shirt off.

He backed her up against his bed, sitting her down gently but she stopped him when he gave her a gentle nudge down. With shaking hands she reached forward and unbuckled his belt and then sprung the button on his jeans so he could step out of them, and then stood to undo her own.

He knelt between her legs and peeled them down, hands sliding down over the skin of her legs leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Her entire body felt like a live wire as he pulled them over her feet. He leaned up and kissed her again, as they moved backwards together over the bed, and he situated himself between her legs. His skin felt warm against hers as he knotted a hand in her hair, fingers scratching against her scalp.

Her bra strap slipped off her shoulder and he gripped it with his fingers “Can I take this off?”

She leaned up and he unhooked it, pulling it off and tossing it to the side, before he glanced down between them. Wordlessly she lifted her hips so he could pull her underwear down her legs, and then tugged at the waistband of his boxers.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly from between her legs. He was looking at her like she’d hung the moon in the sky, and she reached up to run a hand through the longest part of his hair, and nodded with a small smile.

“I’m sure.”

He took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss her very slowly as he pushed inside of her. She sucked in a breath with a small gasp, eyes widening, and then sliding closed slowly before they opened and locked on his. His vision flipped sideways and got fuzzy for a second before she gave the skin on his arms a squeeze, bringing him back down to earth.

Her eyes were huge as she stared at him, never looking away as he pulled out of her and pushed back in. Her nails scraped against his skin as his head fell forward into the crook of her neck, forehead resting against her collarbone. A euphoria like she’d never experienced settled over her, as he ran a hand down her side, fingers gripping the skin of her hip. He picked his head up , lips moving across her neck and jaw until he found her mouth in the dark.

She was dizzy as he kissed her till she couldn’t breathe but she never wanted him to stop. His skin felt feverish under her fingers as she grazed them up his spine, a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on his back as he moved above her. He was panting in her ear, forearm braced on the bed by her head.

“Courtney.” He breathed, but she silenced him by kissing him, a heat settling in her stomach that began to spread. She broke away from him for a second, breath coming out ragged as he began to push faster, hand resting at the base of her throat. She gripped his skin, nails sliding over the sweat as her legs started to shake and she began to orgasm.

It was beautiful to fall over the edge with him. He kissed her right through it, wrapping her up in his arms. She felt like she was levitating as his movement slowed and his weight pressed down on top of her. Her heart was beating loud, but slow, and mixed in with his as they laid there wrapped up in each other.

After a moment of silence when the breathing had slowed he picked up his head to look at her. He was smiling so sweetly at her she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Are you-okay?” He asked finally.

“I’m good. Are you?”

He nodded and cleared his throat, pulling out and laying next to her. He pulled the blanket up so she could cover her chest with with and settled in on his side next to her, eyes peering into her own.

“What?” She asked.

She looked so beautiful, messy hair, smudged liner, sheet pulled up in his bed, a place he never thought he’d see her. His emotions were running high and he could barely speak in full sentences but he managed a soft “Your beautiful.”

She smiled softly and reached forward to push a strand of hair off his forehead, before she scorched forward and pressed a very chaste kiss to his lips.

“Are you going to stay?”

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded and grinned, patting the bed and chuckling a little as she wriggled down under the blankets next to him. His eyes slid closed and his body got heavy but he waited until her own eyes closed. He wanted to touch her, hold her, pull her close but he laid there just watching her, wondering if this was a dream until his eyes got too heavy to keep open.

Courtney wasn’t sleeping.

She waited until she heard his breath even out and then opened her eyes to find him sleeping, lips slightly parted, one arms under his head and the other resting across his side.

She sat up and looked down at him, reaching a tentative hand out to stroke the side of his face. He didn’t stir, and she eased off the bed, pulling her clothing on. She gave him one last look before she made her way quietly through the house and out the door.

The alcohol had worn off long ago, and the night air covered her up more than she already was. Her body felt like rubber as she slipped into her car and started it, backing out and pulling on to the street quickly so she could be gone in case he woke up.

Roads were empty, the occasional car passing her as she reached her house. Her legs felt heavy and she sat in her idling car for a moment before she slowly got out and made her way inside. Her house was quiet, just the creaking of the floor as she walked to her bedroom, leaving the lights off.

She sat on the end of her bed staring at the wall. The only sound to be heard was the ticking of the clock from her living room, and the owl that lived in the tree outside her window.

She felt bad leaving like that, and she knew when he woke up and she was gone he’d be upset. But she couldn’t stay there. She felt like she was suffocating and couldn’t believe what she had done. She absently pulled at the hole in the knee of her jeans and sniffled, eyes moving across the room to the picture she had of them.

She loved Jeremy with all her heart. She had always taken him and his friendship with her for granted, and now that she knew he’d felt this way about her for all those years she felt terrible. He had watched her with Brad and kept quiet because he wanted to make her happy. He’d do anything to make her happy. A tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away.

Not only was she going to lose him but over something so stupid. He was the best person she knew, and she was hurting him every single day and even though she didn’t know it, her relationship with him felt tainted. Like she’d ruined it without even trying, because she didn’t deserve him. He was so kind, so sweet and too pure for someone like her who was so blinded by dating other guys, and a stupid high school boyfriend who never gave a shit about her that she couldn’t see Jeremy waiting there, heart in hand all these years.

That fact was staring her right in the face. She tipped over sideways and another tear ran down her nose. Her heart hurt, and her lungs felt like they were deflating as she started to cry. She was dizzy, and nauseated thinking of the end of Jeremy in her life.She had ruined this, just like everything else.

Across town,Jeremy turned over and made to wrap his arm around Courtney. Last night had been amazing, and his heart felt so full it could burst, but he paused when he felt the bed was empty and cold. He lifted his head and looked around.

It was early, the sun wasn’t quite rising yet, but it was light enough that he could see she wasn’t in the room. He threw the blanket off and stood. He didn’t want to panic. Maybe she was in the bathroom, getting water, in the living room.

“Courtney?” He called out as he walked through his house. When she didn’t answer, he looked out the front window to find her car was gone.

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, like the puncture of an arrow that had been shot straight through his heart, and he let out a long breath and closed his eyes.

Courtney was gone.

Everything he had been afraid of had finally come true because he’d said his feelings out loud. Things why he’d kept it to himself all these years. Now she was gone, out of his house and his life maybe forever. He’d never been in more pain. He thought about calling, getting in his car and driving to her place but he couldn’t move. His feet may as well have been glued to the floor.

He braced a hand on the doorframe and squeezed his eyes shut.

What had he done?

[mellowsadistic]

Mindy wailed and thrashed as her Nanny spanked her forcefully, aiming for the top of her thighs, what little of her bottom that wasn’t protected by her thick, crinkly, heavily loaded naptime nappy.

“Bad girl, Mindy!” Nanny scolded, “Very bad girl! You do not yell at Nanny, and you especially do not complain about your treatment!”

“Ow! Ow! Ow! STOP IT!” Mindy cried.

“You need to learn your lesson, little girl, “ Nanny continued sternly. “Your loss of night-time bladder and bowel control is a good thing. Waking up with a soaked and stinky diaper sagging from your bottom shows that our regression training methods are working.”

“But I don’t want them to work!” Mindy shrieked. “I don’t wanna be some big baby freak!”

Nanny’s arm began swinging down with all her might, smacking against the skin of Mindy’s rapidly reddening bottom with so much force that the girl’s squealing doubled in volume. “BAD GIRL!” she shouted. “VERY BAD GIRL! You’re here to be punished, young lady! The court sentenced you to four years as a two-year-old, but since you were too proud to allow your boyfriend to treat you accordingly, he had no choice but to enrol you here! State-run discipline nurseries have a 100% success rate at putting regressed girls in their place, and you’re not going to be any exception, missy! A big baby is exactly what you’re going to be!”

“OW! OWIE! PLEASE!” Mindy begged, tears streaming down her face. Her bottom hurt so badly. She didn’t even know what she was begging for. For the spanking to stop? For her adulthood back? To be let out of the discipline nursery and get sent back to her loving boyfriend? How could she have pushed him to enrol her here? If she could turn back time, she would. Who cared if she had to live like a two-year-old, to have her boyfriend change her wet and messy nappies, to have him feed her and bathe her and burp her like a baby, if this was the alternative? Spending her time playing with baby toys and dancing along to toddler songs, and spending hours a day gazing into those screens, swirling colours and faint music that infiltrated your head and whispered to you.

Mindy could never remember the exact words, but the results were clear. After a few days she noticed her bladder and bowel control beginning to weaken, her hands becoming slightly uncoordinated, her walk turning into more of a toddle – and when she’d asked the nursery staff if it could be reversed, they’d only smirked at her.

And now she’d woken up from her nap to find her nappy absolutely drenched, and worse, packed with a yucky mess that she certainly didn’t remember making. The evil bitches at the discipline nursery had turned her into some kind of oversized two-year-old who filled her diapers in her sleep!

“Once we drop you off with your boyfriend at the end of your training, you’ll be a completely different girl!” Nanny said happily, not letting up with her furious swats. “Just like your little friends that are almost done with their conditioning!”

Mindy sobbed and screamed and kicked her legs over her Nanny’s lap. She couldn’t become one of them. She couldn’t! Not those dim-witted baby-women she shared the nursery school with, the diaper-dependent losers with their adult minds still more or less present, but so heavily conditioned with spankings and hypnosis and all the other foul training methods the nursery employed, that they may as well have had their personalities reverted back to toddlerhood – nothing but babbling, screeching, pants-wetting babies in the bodies of beautiful young women.

Mindy wanted to fight it. She couldn’t think of anything worse than ending up like one of them. But it was hard to think straight when her bottom was blazing like it was on fire. She couldn’t help herself. It was just too horrible! She wanted it to stop! She needed Nanny to stop!

“I’m sowwy, Nanny!” she wailed, hating how easily the baby talk came to her. Another gift of the hypnosis programs. “Baby was just cwanky ‘cause she did a poo-poo!” She cringed with shame as she said it, but she knew it was what Nanny wanted to hear. She wasn’t complaining because she was being turned into an oversized toddler who waddled around in full Pampers all day. She was just being cranky. “Pwease, Nanny!” she sobbed.

And then, mercifully, Nanny did.

“That’s a good girl,” she cooed, her voice soft and sweet, but with a definite note of condescending satisfaction. “What a good baby. Well done for taking your punishment, little Mindy. I’m sure you’re right. You were just being a little cranky because of your yucky, stinky nappy! But I’m afraid I’m not going to change you anytime soon, sweetheart. Babies need to get used to being in full diapers. You need to learn that you’ll be changed at an adult’s convenience, not when it’s convenient for you. Is that clear?”

“Yes Nanny,” Mindy whimpered.

“Good girl! Now let’s get you over to the playroom. We’ve got some lovely programs for you to watch this afternoon. Isn’t that nice?”

Mindy sobbed and sniffled, but didn’t resist as she was led off to sit in front of the television in the nursery’s main room alongside all the other infantilised women, to stare into the screen and allow herself to slip further and further into her new life.

[olive-main]

Two Heads of Hydra

Pairing: Bucky Barns x Fem!Reader

Summary: A secret promise they made to each other, vowing to escape HYDRA and leave their lives as weapons behind. Even when they’d wipe Bucky’s mind, Y/N stuck by him, making that promise again and again. Their shared dream of freedom and a life beyond HYDRA had become their driving force.

Wc: 530

My first fanfic….? More of a background for a potential series…? Its simply experimental to get my writing brain working. I have many ideas, but while I’m working on this my requests are open! Don’t be shy and ask away ;)

When Y/N turned 20, Hydra put her on a mission with the infamous Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes. The two spent their days training together, fighting side by side, and rarely leaving each other's sight. The efficiency with which they operated together swayed Hydra’s decision to keep them as a team.

As their missions continued, Y/N couldn't help but notice the torment that Hydra put Bucky through. Usually it wouldn’t phase her, but with Bucky it was different. It caused an anger to build within her, a protectiveness she couldn't explain but couldn't deny. Bucky had felt the same way about Y/N. Whenever she was hit or “disciplined” by Hydra's members, he would rush to her protection, holding back from killing anyone who laid a hand on Y/N, and she’d reciprocate without hesitation. The punishments for either of their acts or defiance were brutal – brainwiping and torture – so they both decided that it was better to suffer in silence for each other's sake.

In Y/N’s determination to save Bucky from his tormented existence, she found ways to prevent Hydra from wiping his memory. Y/N claimed that he held information for future missions, and surprisingly, it worked, at least for a while. Bucky would always question why she was helping him, he couldn’t believe someone would show him any kindness. Y/N’s response had always been the same, "We only have each other in this hell hole, and I need you conscious for when we escape."

Feelings had begun to grow on both sides. How could they not, but they both knew that acknowledging them was a luxury neither of them could afford. It was the unspoken kindness and care that was shared that kept them going in their prisons, providing a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.

However, when the time came for their escape, Hydra had already grown suspicious of their relationship. They searched Bucky's room and found his journal, a precious collection of his thoughts and memories. Despite the desperation Y/N felt trying to make sure they both got out, it had been too late. Bucky told her to leave, to get out of Hydra and save herself. It was a gut-wrenching decision, and she had no choice but to follow his orders. Y/N knew if she didn’t get out, they’d both be stuck.

Against her heart screaming at her to stay with Bucky, she made her esparce. Determined to keep the promise she had made to Bucky before they parted – to get him out. Before leaving Y/N managed to steal his journal, the only link to his past and his true self. She knew it would be essential for him when the time came to set him free.

Y/N had stepped foot in the outside world, finally free. But her mind was consumed with thoughts of Bucky and the day they’d reunite. She was dedicated to finding a way to rescue him from Hydra’s grasp, and the stolen journal became a symbol of Y/N’s unwavering commitment to the man who had become her partner, her protector, and her silent source of strength in the darkest of times.

Thank you beauties ~Olive ♡