#i feel like i have to beg and plead just to get a fraction of the love you once showered me in

[doomedmoth]

Better kind of best friend (part 2)

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n, slight dacryphilia

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...

Moth's prophecy💡 : Hi cryptids ! Thank you for being so supportive, here is the awaited part two with the arrival of Charles ! You can find part one here if you haven’t read it yet. For the sake of it being easier to read for everyone, the dialogues between Alex and Charles are written in English, even though they would speak French between them. We got some angst, we got some very light suggestive content, we got some manic episodes, and that should leave us with the tasty fucked up shit for the last (two lasts ?) chapters. Enjoy !

“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”

In a fraction of second, the room felt very cold. You suddenly took into account the breeze from the open window, and the uncomfortable scratch of the hair curlers against your scalp, itching to get off. The taste of red wine on your tongue started to feel like a thick paste, making it hard to breathe, and as you got up and away from Alexandra, your head spun, as if you had been hit by a ton of bricks. You needed some air.

“Wait !” Alexandra tried to hold your hand, bring you back down to the ground, but her fingers felt like fire against your skin, and not the enjoyable type. You tried to get away, so she rose up, closing the gap to you. “Please, listen to me… I’m sorry, I know I should have told you earlier…”

You could barely make out her voice with the sounds of the street below her apartment. And why was she looking at you like that, like a deer caught in headlights, like… Like she pitied you ? You felt sick.

“Yeah… Yeah, you should have.” You probably should have felt embarrassed yourself. Shameful you even tried something. But you quickly realized the sickness you felt was not due to shame or sadness, but anger. Two full months had passed, and not more than a day or two had gone by where you hadn’t been together. “Not once, in two months, did you think of mentioning it ?”

You heard yourself as if someone else was speaking. Thoughts swirling in your mind, replaying each of her words and action. Had you missed a hint somewhere ? Were you in the wrong here ? You could replay the movie a hundred times and still, you were sure you would find no flaw. All the nights she had fell asleep in your arms, all the kisses she had peppered your skin with, all the touches and the petnames, now you could see clearly how inappropriate they would have been for anyone with a boyfriend.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her breathing got heavier and tears started coming to her eyes, yet you had never felt so little pity towards someone. “I didn’t want it to change what we have, and it all got so confusing so quickly for me, I…”

“Because it wasn’t confusing for me ?” You raised your voice at her. You probably should not have, but she had just half-admitted to knowing her behavior had crossed some boundaries. “Please tell me you are in an open relationship. Please Alex… tell me you haven’t just lied to me.” You were pleading, begging. Don’t they say bargaining is one of the five stages of grief ? But her silence and shameful eyes gave you every answer you needed.

“I didn’t lie I… I just didn’t talk about it…”

“It’s the same fucking thing !” Definitely pushing her arms away from you, you started to gather your things from the floor of her living room. Thankfully, you hadn’t changed into your pajamas yet, you thought, or the scene would have been even more embarrassing.

“I didn’t know what to do !” Tears now rolling down her pink cheeks, she was following you around, words tumbling down in a rush to get her point across. “It all happened so quickly and he’s not home and you… You’ve been everything to me, please trust me ! Y/N, please stop !” She tugged at your arm once more, and cupped your face between her hands. Still crying, she planted a soft kiss on your lips, trembling, but this time, you were the one who pulled away. “I’ve never felt this way for a girl before… I’ve never had feeling like this for another woman, or anyone truly and-“

“Oh no.” You immediately cut her off and took two steps back. “No, this is not happening.” Throwing your things in your bag in a hurry, you couldn’t even look at her anymore or else you were sure you would end up either giving in or spitting to her face. “I am not about to be your little uni experiment, your fucking distraction before you go back to the safety of a man’s arms.”

Putting your bag on your shoulder and throwing her curlers to the floor, you gave her one last look, filled with all the anger and disappointment you could muster. So that was it, then ? Fuck it, even crying she was pretty. She had fallen back down to her knees and for a second, you saw yourself laying above her, kissing her wet cheeks, brushing her hair. Maybe you could have her for a night, a few days, a parenthesis of happiness until the man returned. It could not last, but it could exist. Scraping the last bits of this relationship like the bottom of a candle, and you would keep the remnants of it in a secret part of your brain until the year ended. But you knew the pain would be too much. And it wasn’t why you came here in the first place.

“I know what I’m worth, Alex. And I’m worth more than that.”

“Ah cazzo per l’amor del cielo Y/N !” You hid yourself deeper under the cover of your bed as Chiara barged in your room. “Get out !” She pulled on the blanket, as you sighed and whined, too tired to fight. The ginger girl crouched next to you, eyes pleading. “Please make her leave, she’s been knocking on the door since we kicked her out and we can’t close, Marco forgot his keys.” She took one of your hand in hers to help you sit on the edge. “If you don’t, I honestly can’t promise she won’t come in during the night and I actually want to sleep for once. So please. Go.”

You nodded bashfully as she left the room, visibly annoyed. For two weeks now, all eight other students had had to deal with the awkward mood your friendship breakup had installed in the workshop. And that implied, unfortunately for your roommates, Alex coming in at unholy hours, begging to be heard. It was honestly a miracle no one had told you two to fuck off until now.

You pushed the curtains back as quietly as possible, peeking through the window at the entrance of the house. And indeed, there she was, banging on the door. You rolled your eyes and got up to put a coat over your pajamas. In your closet, not-so-well hidden, the scarf she had left you not long before it all went to shit… Your fingers brushed slightly over it, but you left it in place, and headed down the stairs. In the smallest living room, sipping tea and glancing at you, were your two German roommates. You mouthed a “sorry” at them, and opened the door, immediately pushing Alex away from it.

“Stop it before they call the cops on you.” You crossed your arms and took a good look at her. Fiddling with the worn-out sleeves of a sweater your recognized as yours, she looked exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, she was far from the walking ray of sunshine you had known. You sighed, and started walking towards the parking lot a bit further down the main path, where you knew she had probably parked. “Come. We’ve bothered them enough.”

She followed without making a sound, her head down. You recognized her car, and sat on the small low wall facing it. She tried to sit next to you, but when she felt you move away, decided to stay up. You looked at each other for a while, your silence only interrupted by a few night birds’ chirps and the waves down in the bay.

Two weeks had passed since what you called in your head “the accident”. And if you had trouble living with the aftermath, Alexandra was taking it even worse than you. In order to protect yourself and allow to maybe, one day, recover something good from it, you decided to keep your interactions strictly confined to the subject of the workshop. Considering your two roles had very little to share at this point of the project, it meant that you were pretty much free to ignore her without being too much of a bitch. And lord knew it would have been too hard to stay mad at her with extended contact. Even right now, as she raised her doe eyes at you, you could feel your confidence faltering.

When you were alone in your bed at night, cuddling the plushie she had won you at the funfair, that was when you questioned if you were doing the right thing. After all, she had not promised you anything. You had lived in fantasies, daydreams of a romance carefully crafted by your need for love. Maybe she was like that with all of her friends. Maybe you could go back to being friends.

But no. She had confessed to knowing. To lying. To having feelings too. There was no coming back from this. Only growth and lessons. And right now, this meant for you some space.

“Well, are you going to talk ?” She opened her mouth, then seemed to reconsider, and you groaned. “It’s already 10 and I’m freezing cold, if you got nothing to say I’m leaving.” You started to get up but she put her hands up.

“Wait ! Okay wait sorry, please stay…” You sat back down, closing your coat tighter. “Thank you. I… Okay hm. Putain. Bon.” She took an inspiration, and you knew this meant she was going to talk non stop until her mouth ran dry. “I’m sorry about everything that happened, from our meeting to tonight. I fucked up. I omitted things and I lied and I did everything I could to stay in your good graces because I grew so fond of you so quickly I didn’t know how to deal with it. I really thought we could be best friends and you know I’ve never been really good with girl friendships I told you about it and I admit I may have crossed the line a bit, once or twice but-“ You could not help but scoff. “What ?”

“Sorry, please do go on”

“No, what, tell me ?” She raised her hand to you, and you did not take it.

“Once or twice ? A bit ?” Her lips started trembling and you stopped her before she could start talking again. “Alex. Friends don’t do any of the shit we did. Friends probably don’t sleep almost naked together and cuddling ! God damn it, you hand-fed me pastries in my bed, and you think that’s a little over the line ?” You heard yourself screaming and tried to take a deep breath, but the freezing air only made your lungs hurt even more.

“I’m sorry ! I wish I could tell you I didn’t know but…” She was shaking, from stress or the cold, you did not know. Finally she raised her eyes, and you felt like she was going to be honest, with herself and you, for the first time in weeks. “But the truth is I knew. I knew there could be something more and I wanted it too. I… I think I still want it. But there’s-“

“There’s your boyfriend. Honestly Alex, with all due respect, fuck off. How can you tell me that straight in the eye ? I’m not some homewrecker, and to be completely honest with you” You got up and took a step forward, pushing your index finger against her shoulder. “Even if you guys broke up I wouldn’t want anything with you.” Wow. Nice lie. But at least it seemed to hurt her in all the right places. “You should have experimented back when you were single like everyone else. You played with my feelings, knowing them and knowing we had no chance at anything serious. I did not have a say in this !” At this point you were very thankful you were the only house around, because you were fully screaming. “All I wanted was to make some fucking friends Alex ! And no friend in their right mind would have done what you did to me. So please, if you have nothing more than empty apologies and more pain to offer… please leave.”

“I really like you.” She breathed out the words in a whisper, and it broke the last loose screw of your sanity.

“And I love you !” There. Out it was, your great love confession, blown away by the wind of the sea, destined to forever belong only to the cries of the seagulls. In the end, it wasn’t so hard to say. “But sometimes it’s not enough. Love isn’t enough.” Turning your back to her, you thought this was truly the end. Nothing was salvageable from that night. “Goodnight Alexandra.”

You almost ran back up the parking lot to the gate of the house, through the living room now empty, and up the stairs. You were about to enter your room, but went to the one to your left, Chiara’s. Her window was opened and she was sitting on the edge of it, smoking a joint. Of course, she had heard everything.

“Trouble in paradise ?”

“Fuck off.” You went next to her, taking the joint from her hands. From her seat, she had had a direct view of the whole scene, sound and light.

You took a drag, almost immediately coughing. The weed was disgusting, not half as good as the one you were used to, and Chiara gave you a look of approval, a kind of “it’s the only thing I could find”. Without knowing how or why, you broke down in tears.

When Charles finally hung up from his phone call with his manager, he raised his eyes to see that the taxi had already entered Monaco. The morning light was piercing through the clouds, shining on the wet pavement as to signal the end of the week-long downpour.

Finally home, he thought. He could not wait to be back at his apartment, and enjoy the rare two and a half weeks break before the last races of the year. The flight had been so long, his whole body was still sore from yesterday’s race, and still he was excited for the day to come. He would come home, and have Alexandra greeting him as usual, full of anecdotes and gossips to share. He would give her the gifts he had prepared, and then they would order from the Chinese restaurant they loved. Eat together, chill a bit, probably have sex. Then tomorrow they would go to his mom’s, take the opportunity to get a haircut, and maybe see some friends. He grinned at the perspective of a few days unplanned, going with the flow. Those were so rare nowadays.

The excitement made him tip the driver even more than usual, and he went up the stairs running, his bags almost scattering on the floor multiple times. But as he opened the door, still smiling, his excitement quickly faded. The apartment was completely empty, as if no one had been in it in weeks. He entered carefully, calling for Alexandra, but no answer. Every room still smelled of cleaning products, proof that except for the cleaning lady last Wednesday, it had been desert of any life.

Charles, starting to worry, tried calling his girlfriend multiple times, to no avail. So he threw all of his bags in the bedroom, changed his sweater, took his car keys and double of hers and decided to go check her own apartment. She was never in it, but maybe something had happened ? Thankfully, word hadn’t yet gone out that he was back, which means he was able to get his car out and through Monaco’s streets without any trouble.

The sight when he opened her door was even worse than at his own place. The usually immaculate apartment was in a mess, clothes everywhere on the floor, dishes piling up in the sink, and a good amount of paper bags from food orders scattered across the kitchen. In all of this, a few sobs could be heard.

“Alex ? Mon amour, where are you ?” Charles called out, voice cracking with concern as he navigated the mess in the apartment, searching for any sign of his girlfriend.

Finally, he found her curled up on the couch, hidden under a blanket, desperately sobbing and shaking as she held close a huge plushie he did not recognize. Charles rushed to her side, dropping to his knees next to the couch and wrapping his arms around her. She immediately pulled him in closer, drenching his sweater in tears.

“Hey, hey breathe love… what’s wrong, tell me what’s going on ?” He murmured and tried to hold her face to his, but she would always push back against his neck.

He finally managed to cup her cheeks and started to kiss her face, repeating again and again that she had to breathe. He honestly did not know what to do, he had never seen her so vulnerable, so… broken ? His heart shattered at the mere thought of what could have brought her to this point.

“I- I fucked up Charles…” Alexandra chocked out, her voice breaking in uncontrollable sobs. If she had managed to talk, she would now not let go of his arms, and Charles winced as she buried her nails in them.

“Baby tell me what happened, it can’t be that bad, it’s okay we’ll manage…”

Suddenly Alex’s eyes stayed fixated on Charles’, and her tears calmed down, along with her erratic breathing. She seemed to realize something, and started apologizing profusely. When she managed to talk again, Charles was completely lost as to what had happened.

“I’m sorry… it’s nothing, it’s just… It’s Y/N” Charles nodded. He was actually pretty excited to come back also for you, the mysterious new friend of Alex which she wouldn’t stop teasing him about. She supposedly wanted him to meet you, and Charles had been witness to so many attempts from Alex at making girl friends, he was glad she had finally managed. You seemed like a good person, from what he heard. “We… we got into an argument. We’re not friends anymore. It was my fault and it’s over.”

Charles’ brows furrowed as he helped Alex get out of the blanket. That was it ? Sure, you had seemed like an good friend to Alex, but she had lost a few friends along the way growing up, and none had ever provoked such an extreme reaction. He glanced around the room again, at the state of the whole apartment. But when his eyes landed back on Alexandra, he could feel the plea on her face to not dig much more.

Of course there was more to it. But what kind of friend’s argument would lead to someone completely breaking down like that ?

As Charles held his girlfriend to his chest, rubbing her back and slowly calming her down, he glanced at her phone, and decided he would probably get more directly from you.

Well shit, it was fancy. As you entered the restaurant in the most luxurious part of Monaco, you started to really regret your choice of clothing. Even the lady in charge of welcoming clients eyed you up and down before raising a brow, clearly not impressed.

“I have a reservation ? Well someone invited me, his name’s Charles ?” You could feel yourself blushing as she gauged you.

She then gestured for you to wait to the side as she left towards the back of the restaurant. When she came back, it was to tell you to follow her.

Hidden behind the bar, far from any windows, were a few booths, carefully covered with flower arrangements and ivy leaves curtains. In the one you followed the lady to, a man was sitting, probably around your age, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes. Some curls were falling down on his forehead, and when he raised his head and smiled at you, dimples immediately appeared. Of course he was cute. Of course she had to have a gorgeous boyfriend too.

“Y/N ! Am I pronouncing it right ?” He stood up and thanked the lady, then gestured you to sit in front of him. You nodded and sat back down with him. “So nice to finally meet you ! I’ve heard so much.”

You couldn’t say the same, unfortunately, and the chuckle that left your mouth couldn’t have been repressed even if you tried.

You thanked him, and as he gave you time to scan the menu, you could not prevent yourself from stealing glances. He was dressed pretty casually too, which made you feel better about your own outfit, but you got the same feeling from him as you did from Alexandra when you first met her. There was something rich about the man, luxurious, in the way he presented himself, smiled and talked. And god, the more you looked at him, the more you could tell why she had fallen in love with him. This was the kind of guy you only ever saw in magazines, too pretty to be true. You felt yourself getting dizzy, and put your attention back on the menu. You were probably tired and in need of caffeine, why else would you feel so weak ?

Yet you had no idea he was doing the exact same thing, going over every little detail of your face and posture in his head. He had heard from you, sure, but not as much as he told, and most importantly, he had never seen you, even in pictures. Nothing could have prepared him, honestly. There was something about you, he wasn’t sure if it was physically or in the way you held yourself, that made his heart flutter. Suddenly he felt a bit shy, and completely unable to stop peeking at you. But he quickly reminded himself of why he was here, and chased his thoughts as far away as possible.

“Thank you for coming, first of all.” You gave him a polite smile and thanked the waiter for your coffee. “I’ll be honest with you, especially on the matter of why Alex isn’t here.” There it was. You shifted in your seat, a bit uncomfortable. The closest exit was in sight, thankfully, in case he made a scene or started to threaten you. You had no idea what he knew, and it scared you a bit. “I… I came home two days ago. And Alex was…” He sour laughed, and started playing with his spoon. “A mess. I think it’s the best way to say it. I tried to make her talk but… only thing she gave away is that you two had an argument ? And that it was her fault. But I’ve never seen her like that before. I… I would like, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know what happened.”

Oh shit. So she hadn’t told him anything. Well of course, lie by omission seemed to be her thing. Were you really about to be the one to break the news to her boyfriend, who by the way seemed like a sweetheart, that her girlfriend had almost cheated ?

He gave you an encouraging smile, and you gripped your cup tighter. Why did they have to look so much alike. Everything about him was warm, kind, you could not hurt him even if you tried. What would it bring you, to do that ? Break them up ? And then what ? She was too out of it to do anything good with herself on her own. He seemed like a good person. And you were not a home wrecker. Sure, you didn’t work out. But maybe they could. You were the problem, she hadn’t fully cheated, she still had a chance at fixing up her couple. Who would you be to deny her.

“I don’t have much more to say honestly. We had a disagreement, one of which you can’t work through sometimes. It’s okay.” You gave a forced smile, and Charles was confident in that instant that there was more to it. This kind of painful conclusion, he knew them too well.

“Are you sure ? You seem upset.” You crossed your arms and he felt like he had maybe pushed too far.

“Yes. It’s been tough but I’ll get through it, and Alex will too. Maybe we’ll work it out, maybe we won’t, that’s our problem I’m afraid. Sorry you had to deal with the aftermath.”

You saw in his pinched lips, in the way his eyes scanned you, that he wanted to press further. But you wouldn’t be the truth bearer. You had done enough. Alex’s commitment to honesty would be his only way of finding out. And it seemed he realized it, because he nodded, and thanked you.

You thought you were done, but he shifted the conversation to lighter topics, your life in Monaco, how the workshop was going. He seemed really interested, and you realized you hadn’t made as much friends as you wished because of your closeness with Alex. So you gave in to the attention. And you realized you craved it, especially when it came from people who seemed a life away from you.

“What about you ? Out of state often, I understood ?”

“Why don’t you take a guess ?” He rested his face on his closed knuckles, and you closed the gap to him, faking analyzing his face. This made him chuckle, and his laugh tugged at your heart in ways you weren’t sure you liked.

“You don’t look like a business man.” He faked an offended face, then winked. Were all monegasques raised to be teases ? “Out often and comfortable with money ? We’re in a private booth where the staff seems to know you… I’d say an athlete maybe ?”

“Bingo !” He made his spoon ring on the rim of your cup, and sat back against his chair. There was a coolness in the way he moved and talked, something mesmerizing.

You thought he was collected. Truth is, thoughts raced through his brain at light speed and the more you talked, the less he listened. If there was something they had always agreed on was with Alexandra, it was that being in a relationship did not mean you found everyone but your partner disgusting suddenly. They were honest about their admiration for other’s looks and personalities, both convinced it was part of the human experience. And so he tried to persuade himself that this meeting was just that, another girl he just found pretty. And interesting. With a smooth voice. And nice fingers. Whose hair would probably look gorgeous laid out on his pillows. And fuck, he thought. That was not good. Not good at all.

Before he would start blushing again, mind filled with unholy pictures, he decided it was time to leave. You were a bit surprised at the abruptness of it, but agreed, you had things to do too. As you stood up, he looked a bit embarrassed.

“I know it might sound weird but… would you mind waiting a minute before leaving ? Giving me a head start.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and laughed. “Everything’s already paid for I’m not trying to scam you ! Just… I think it’s better for you if we don’t leave together.”

You furrowed your brows, not really understanding the request, but sat back down. You were too tired to fight about that.

“Thanks, you’re a dear. You have my number, let’s stay in touch !” And just like that, he was gone.

When you left the booth two minutes later, as requested, you heard a commotion right outside the restaurant. You quickly walked through the crowd gathering on the side of the terrace and started leaving when something caught your attention. A kid, screaming a name you had heard not so long ago.

You walked a bit further down the square and looked back to see Charles in the middle of the crowd, being photographed by paparazzis and families, signing autographs and struggling to get out. When he finally did manage, he entered a slick black car which looked like a million pounds, and left without even glancing back at the crowd.

“Charles… Monaco… Athlete…”You entered the words in Google, and found him immediately. A Formula 1 Driver. A fan favorite, it seemed. “Alex you bitch you could have warned me that he’s famous…”

Still, his request had got you out of a very sticky situation, and you were grateful you would not find yourself in newspapers tomorrow. So you switched to your text messages, and sent to Charles a thanks for the heads up.

Unknowingly to you, he sat in his parking lot for ten minutes before going back to his apartment, staring at his screen and blushing like a teenager.

Charles was tired. It had been more a week since his return, and Alexandra gave no signs of improvement, despite his tries. She would keep up the appearances in public, but made no effort at home, and avoided all friends or family gatherings he attended. And still, she would refuse to talk.

After he came back from having a drink with you, another one he did not tell Alexandra about, another one he had to sit out the excitement of in his car, another one that convinced him that you could be essential to making her feel better, because you made him feel good, he decided it was enough.

Alex was sitting on the couch, her plushie always glued to her, watching the cars go by. At least she had accepted to come back to his apartment. He brought her tea and took the plushie away from her, not without getting a whine in return.

“Alex, we need to talk.” She gave him her usual sad puppy eyes, but this time, Charles was decided to not let her manipulate him. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll be here no matter what. But you have to tell me what happened. It can’t go on like that.” Finally she sighed and sat straighter on the couch, trading her sad eyes for the stone cold face she wore when he wasn’t around.

“Yeah you’re right.” She let out a shaky breath, betraying her anxiousness, then took Charles’ hands in hers. Finally, they would maybe be able to move on. Finally he might get back his lover. “I… I lied to you. About Y/N.” Obviously, thought Charles, and though he did not want to admit it, he had a small idea of why. She planted her eyes in his, and holding his hand tighter, finally said the truth out loud. “I never told Y/N about you. I never even told her I had a boyfriend. I should have been honest from the beginning, but it got confusing very quickly, and I didn’t want to ruin… I’d say our friendship but I know it was more than that.”

He knew it. It pained him to admit it, but he had had a feeling, and his instinct rarely lied. Now the only thing left was to find out how much had happened. Unable to speak up, he nodded to encourage her to keep going.

“I was scared of losing her and losing you. I told you about her because I thought if you two met, it would just be me and my two favorites people and everything would be great. I didn’t think further than that. But… but I knew she had feelings and I liked it, I liked having someone so… devoted to me.” That didn’t surprise him. Alex had always had a praise kink, worshipping her might be the fastest way to her heart. “And I guess I ended up falling for her too.”

As Alexandra’s voice became shakier, he knew he was touching the main subject. It was already a lot, he needed to process, but he needed the full picture for it.

“Mon coeur, I need you to be completely honest. Did something happen between you two ?” He saw her hesitating for a moment, before nodding, her gaze fixed on their hands still holding.

“Yes.” She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We kissed… I pulled away but I didn’t want to.”

Charles finally pulled his hands away from hers and got up. He felt hurt. Betrayed. Used. He had been kept in the dark both by his own girlfriend and you, truly the butt of the joke. Yet he felt empty of any anger. He looked at the little decorations in the living room. They would be so easy to smash. Probably satisfying. Yet when he brushed his fingers against it, he only managed to push them back in their exact place, all perfectly symmetrical. Strangely, it brought him more comfort than punching something.

“Are you not going to say anything ?” Her voice was still shaky, he could feel she tried very hard not to cry. And the only thing he wanted was for her to break down so he could hold her as close as possible and kiss her tears.

“What does this mean for us ?” He turned back to her, and she tried to hold his gaze.

“I don’t know… I’m in love with you. I know you probably want to tell me to fuck off but I need to say the truth. This has taken nothing from us, from what I feel for you. If anything, I’m finally feeling better now that you’re back. But I can’t deny that I had never thought about… about me, and another girl, like I did with her. I’ve never felt this way, it was like my heart was so full it could explode. I don’t know what I wanted from it Charlie, I… Nothing good could have happened, I fucked up, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you.” Finally, she lost it. Tears streaming down her face, she looked exhausted. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. I can’t loose you I’ll do anything but I can’t live without you Charlie…”

Charles sat next to her and she threw herself in his arms, sobbing. He could not tell her. What would he even say ? “No worries baby, I can’t even manage to get angry at you for almost cheating because I think daily of fucking the friend you had a homoerotic codependent friendship with ?”. Or maybe “I wish I could focus on reassuring you that I’m still in love with you but telling you you’re pretty when you cry is not a compliment my mom taught me ?”. In the end, he opted for kissing the top of her head and softly stroking her back.

“Okay Alex okay… calm down… We’re gonna manage…” He gave her hand a squeeze, and drying some tears with a finger, kissed her cheek. “We’ll get through this together.”

Unfortunately for Charles, Alexandra’s moods swings came back full force, and soon enough she was back to shaking in his arms, this time from despair, hands clenched into fists on her knees.

“Why… why are you so calm about this ?” She demanded, voice trembling and brows furrowed. “I’ve just confessed to kissing someone and you act like it’s no big deal !”

Charles knew all of this, knew he should be angry, and he barely stopped himself from chuckling when he looked at the little statues he wanted to smash against the floor earlier. But he felt a strange sense of understanding and compassion which only made him calmer the more he let in his own fucked up thoughts.

“It’s not that I’m not upset, mon coeur.” Charles said softly, choosing his words carefully. “I just think maybe now’s not the right time to talk about this. You’re clearly exhausted and you’ve already been very honest with me. You need to rest. And I need to process some things.”

She agreed, her shaking slowing down once more, and he finally convinced her to have a shower and get to bed. She did so without arguing more, and Charles went on his balcony, completely worn out. When he opened his phone, he was greeted with a message that made his heart jump once more.

“Thx again for the evening, it was so fun ! Hope you got home safely, xoxo”

Looking at the light of his bedroom that just turned on, he chose not to answer. The rollercoaster had been enough for today, he needed a rest too.

Though he had struggled, Charles had managed to convince Alexandra he had no intent of breaking up with her, and even that going with him to the second to last race would do her good. The weather was still good in Qatar, she could see the girls, get spoiled and pampered. He knew it would take time to get her back, and maybe she would never be exactly the same. But he wouldn’t stop trying.

On your side, you had been forced to retreat to your bedroom with your computer as none of your roommates seemed to enjoy having the race on the living room main screen at 6 in the morning. You did not care much yourself, Charles had tried to explain some basic things to you before he left but none of it was familiar for someone like you who didn’t even have her driving licence. Still, supporting friends, right ? It felt weird to call him a friend. Just as it had felt weird for Alex. You groaned, thinking that each time, you had been the problem. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else in the whole country ?

When your eyes laid back on the screen, you got reminded why. Because in his fireproof suit, sweating and winking at the camera, you had to scratch your brain with a knife to even think back of any men with as much charisma. Because his skin was soft and his hair smelt good, you knew it and you wouldn’t dare to say how. Because seeing behind him in the interview the girl you still were in love with did not diminish your attraction in the slightest. If anything, you almost threw your computer to the ground when the thought of what they looked like together kissing came to your mind.

When you came out of the bathroom, a few hours later, your phone was ringing. You answered with a smile to the man whose voice was filled with both exhaustion and excitement.

“Hey Charles ! Nice race out there !”

“Did you manage to follow everything ?”

“I did not remember shit of what you told me !” You laughed, and heard him do the same. “But you finished third ! That’s good in any sport, right ?”

“Yeah, good enough we’ll say, could have done better though.” You pictured him as he spoke, hands scratching the nape of his neck, a little smirk making his dimples appear. “Thank you for watching. I appreciate it.”

He sat on the side of his hotel bed, smiling like a child. He didn’t even know why he called you. He had plenty of people around to congratulate him. Yet it was always nice to know someone far thought of him.

“Charles…” Your voice was suddenly tinged with concern. You had seen the polite smiles and waves to the press. But you knew her, and you knew it had not gotten better. And you were done being the big girl, you needed to know. “Is Alex ok ? I’ve seen her on TV and she looks… well you know. Still not herself.”

He got back up and walked to the window, thinking of what to say. Though you had kept in touch since your first meeting, he hadn’t told you of Alex’s confession. Maybe it was time.

“Yeah… It’s been rough for her, hm… Y/N I’ve been made aware of some things and… now’s not the right time, but when we’re back in Monaco, with Alex, I think… I think we should have a talk, the three of us.”

Your heart jumped at the suggestion, guilt eating you out. So he knew. You looked at the stairs, echoes of your roommates’ laughter coming from downstairs. Yeah, you really needed some new friends, before you were about to loose another one.

“I- I’ll be there.” Charles thanked you and ended the call, promising to keep you updated. As he turned around, his own guilt trip was waiting for him in the form of Alexandra, who had just entered the room.

He braced himself for an argument. The new information of him talking to her… whatever you were for her, would surely trigger confusion, and anger. She would tell him that he was not better than her. She would probably put the blame on you. Would she try to hit him ? Mind drifting completely elsewhere, he thought it would be fun to see her try, before punching himself mentally to focus. But when she finally spoke, nothing could have prepared him.

“It’s not fair.” Her voice was breaking but she wasn’t crying, fists clenched. “It’s not fair that she’s not talking to me ! Why won’t she talk to me anymore !” She wasn’t upset because he had been talking to you. She was jealous your attention had been shifted to someone else. And as she paced around the room, Charles sat on the bed, thinking that the manic episode was about to start. “I miss her. I need her.” She came close to him and the way she held his shoulders and forced him to look her in the eye both scared and excited him. “And if my only way of getting her back is you, you best believe I’m taking my chances.”

As the day went on and Charles witnessed the evolution of his girlfriend’s almost-psychotic episode, he thought that maybe some of her ideas weren’t so bad. In the end, he wasn’t the only one who had been a little too obsessed with you recently. What if the way out of this for them, as a couple, was simply to give in ?

So he confessed to everything. Listened. Gave his opinion. Kissed every centimeter of skin he could and agreed with every idea she moaned out loud as she bounced up on him. And when she fell asleep in his arms, smiling, Charles thought that the price to pay for a ray of sunshine wasn’t so bad.

Something had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but you felt as if you were nothing more than an antelope being hunted in one of those wildlife documentaries you used to watch as a child.

Why had you even dressed up ? The dress wasn’t comfortable and way too light for December, your hair was tied too tight, but at least the staff didn’t look down on you this time. When Charles said you looked gorgeous, you thought it was not so bad, and sat straighter.

It was your first time seeing the two of them together somewhere else than on pictures. They were dressed to the nines, and matching perfectly, from the black velvety outfits to the silver of their jewelry. It seemed Alex had finally managed to sleep, because she looked as good as the first day, as good as the hot summer nights, as good as the time you kissed her. Charles was keeping his hand on her thigh, and everytime he squeezed her, you felt like you were about to faint.

You tried to be cautious. Ordering alcohol to calm your nerves had probably not been the best idea, because at some point you weren’t able to remember if their voice had always been this sultry or if you were already tipsy.

They had apologized, both of them. Alex in great details, and this time you let her talk. To be honest, you were tired. It had been long enough. You missed your friend. When she said out loud every thought that ran through your head, your last arguments all flew away. Had the two of you not suffered enough ? Had Charles not been a great meeting ? There was so much more she wanted to share with you, and you only managed to whisper littles “yes”. She would be better, she said. She promised. The best of best friends.

And so when she touched your hand, you did not retreat. And when the both of them asked you what you thought, all red smiles and white canines, you barely managed to breath out.

“Yes, sure… let’s try being friends again.”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @seoulie101 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3

[sweetbans29]

Be Here - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: 3 times you pull Caitlin out of her head

Warnings: fluff, suggestive content, not in any sort of timeline order

Word Count: 3.5k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Hello again! This is going to be a part of a small series, I hope you enjoy!

one.

You were over at Caitlin's apartment working on homework. It is silly to think about her doing schoolwork when she is just about to head out for March madness but even the biggest stars still have to do math.

You are locked into writing an essay when you hear her huffing and puffing. You glance over at her to see she looks beyond frustrated. She doesn't notice your gaze on her as she grabs her eraser and violently erases her answer for the 3rd time. When she sets down the eraser she gives the problem yet another try. Your gaze never leaves her as her tongue starts to peak out signaling her focus.

A smile creeps to your lips as Caitlin lets out another huff and puff and throws her pencil up in defeat. Her head hits the page she was just working on and you take the moment to lean over and give her back a little rub.

"I have been on the same problem for the last hour," she groans once she feels your touch. You let out a little laugh. "It's not funny!" She says as she sits up and looks like she is ready to throw in the towel.

You feel bad for your girl and put your hand out asking for her to pass over the problem she was working on. She debates whether she wants to figure it out on her own or if she will give in and allow your help. After a moment, she picks up the page and hands it to you. Following the page, she comes and sits next to you looking down at the problem she could quote word for word.

You skim over the problem and ask, "What have you been trying?" Handing her the problem, you watch as she goes about solving the problem in front of you two. She lets out another adorable puff and takes the paper back like a 10-year-old boy.

She begins working on the problem and you watch her trying to figure it out yourself. You can see where she starts to go wrong and you kiss her shoulder.

"You are overthinking it babe - look here," you say pointing out where she starts to go the wrong way with the problem. You grab the pencil from her hand and kiss her shoulder again trying to get her out of her head. You circle where she starts doing the wrong thing and proceeds to write out the path she should be taking to solve the problem. This just makes her more frustrated that you were able to solve it in a fraction of the time she was.

She lets out a puff and moves further away from you. You notice the small move and lean over to kiss her shoulder again, causing her body to betray her and she shudders.

"Get back over here," you say as you wrap your arm around her torso and bring her back to your side. "You got this," you hand her back the pencil and the paper and let her continue with the small change you made to help guide her in the right direction.

Grabbing the pencil, she continues the problem. After another minute she finishes it and just sits there. You know she is still frustrated. You also know that she is like a kid when she gets frustrated and can easily be pulled out of it with a few little tickles.

Your hand touches her arm and makes its way over her shoulder and down her side. She is too stubborn to make anything of it as she flips the page and continues on the math she didn't want to do in the first place. As your fingers make their way to the bottom of her shirt, you remove your laptop from the bed. Your palm lays flat across her stomach and you begin your attack. Kicking your leg over her, you straddle her as your fingers get to work.

Within seconds, you have her squirming beneath you, begging you to stop.

"Babe! Babe!" She pleads you you between laughs. Her hands trying to grab a hold of yours to stop the torture she would say she's enduring. After a few more minutes, Caitlin gets fed up with being on the bottom brings her leg up hooking under yours, and seamlessly flips you. She takes your surprise to her advantage, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. It is your turn to let out a gasp.

You look up at her with a surprised but knowing face. It surprised you it didn't come to this sooner, typically she only lasts about a minute being tickled before she turns the tables. The knowing comes from where this is going. You give her a smile and try to wiggle your wrists out of her grasp.

"We need to get back to studying," you say but she still doesn't budge. Instead, she shakes her head and leans down to kiss your cheek and then your neck. You lift your head providing her more access, still trying to get your wrists out of her hold.

"I have a better idea," Caitlin says as her lips finally make their way to yours.

two.

It was Iowa's first home game of the season and you were beyond excited to go and watch Caitlin play. You thought it would be fun to have some friends over to get ready and then head to the game all together. As they started to arrive, you blast some music and break out the snacks. Most of your time before the game isn't spent getting ready, but rather talking about everyone's week and driving into the snacks.

You finish getting ready, checking your fit in the mirror. Of course, you are sporting one of Caitlin's jerseys - not only was it one of your favorite things to wear, but it was also one of your girlfriend's favorite things to see you in.

You take a quick photo of yourself sporting the number 22 and shoot over to Caitlin, telling her that she has got this. She never needed luck when it came to being on the court, her skill spoke for themselves.

Once everyone is ready you all head to the gym. You find seats right across from the team bench and settle in right as they begin announcing the starting lineup. You cheer for each player as their names are announced, yelling a little extra when your favorite player is called out.

You all watch as the game unfolds. It was all in all a great game but in the last quarter you can see Caitlin getting stuck in her head. She gets a little more feisty when things don't go the way she wants them to. It comes with her competitive nature. A part of her that you love but isn't always the easiest to navigate.

When the final buzzer rings, the final score has Iowa at a loss of 76-81. You can't see Caitlin's face but you can tell by her body language that she is stuck in her head. Your group makes its way down to the floor and waits for the team. As the team starts heading out from the locker room, you look around for Caitlin.

After looking for about 20 minutes, you start to worry. You see Kate and ask her if she has seen your girlfriend. She mentions that she saw Caitlin exit the locker room before she did. That was odd as Caitlin is typically the last person to leave the lockers. You thank her and continue looking around.

Another 10 minutes pass and you see someone sitting on the ground. You let out a sigh, knowing exactly who it is, and make your way over to your favorite person.

She is staring out with a blank face. You were expecting some sort of version of this when you started to keep track of how many shots Caitlin missed. It wasn't a typical game but this just proved that she is human. Coming up to her, you know there is nothing you can say to make her feel better. So instead of pulling her up and telling her to shake it off, you take a seat next to her. You hear her sigh but nothing is said. You both just sit there and watch the floor slowly empty itself.

It gets to the point where there are only a few people left, all of whom you think are employees of the school. You slowly make your way to your feet and grab Caitlin's bag. You then offer a hand to her which she takes. As you are about to let go of her hand, she intertwines her fingers with yours. You bring her hand and place a kiss on the back of her hand and follow it with three little kisses as a way of saying you love her.

When you get back to your apartment you put Caitlin's stuff down and let her go into your room to shower. As she is in the shower you decide that a batch of brownies would be exactly what you want if you were where she is.

Grabbing the ingredients you begin prepping your kitchen. Caitlin walks out right as you are measuring the dry ingredients. She has a towel in hand as she is drying her hair. She comes around behind you and wraps her arms around your torso, leaning into you.

"Mmmmm, brownies?" She asks as she dips her finger in the melted chocolate you had on the counter.

"Hey! Those are for the brownies!" You gasp as you try to move the chocolate bowl away from her so you can finish mixing the dry ingredients. You whisper 'chocolate stealer' which earns a chuckle from your girlfriend.

Even with the little playful banter, you can tell she is still not completely out of her head yet. She makes her way around the island to take a seat and watch you make your world-famous brownies. As you finish with the mix, you pour the batter into a pan and hit it on the counter to get all the bubbles out. You then pass Caitlin the spoon to lick, knowing it is one of her favorite parts of watching you bake.

Once the pan is in the oven, you take to washing the dishes and then pulling Caitlin onto the couch. You know she wouldn't care what you put on but in the state that she's trying to shake, you put on her favorite - Ted Lasso.

About halfway into the episode, you hear the timer go off. You untangle yourself from Caitlin and make your way to remove the brownies from the oven. Once you do, you take a fork to the center (many people's unpopular opinion but you are out here living your best life and trying to help Caitlin live hers too). You bring a bite over to her, blowing it off to cool it down a little.

She takes the bite and her eyes close, knowing it is healing her soul. A smile builds on her face as she opens her eyes. She points to the pan and gestures for you to bring it over. You let out a laugh and shake your head no.

"It just came out of the oven, it is way too hot," you say knowing that is the exact opposite of what she wants to hear. Not saying a word, she looks up at you with a little pout. You playfully roll your eyes and lean down to kiss her forehead. As much as you think it is a bad idea, you give in and grab the pan of brownies. She sits up on the couch and crosses her legs. You place the pan on a towel to not burn her or the couch and give her the fork. She goes to town on them, occasionally groaning at the chocolatey goodness she is indulging in.

Once she is finished, she places the pan on the coffee table and lays down, placing her head in your lap. You begin to stroke her hair. Looking up at you she mumbles, "Thank you."

You look down at her with a light smile, "It is my genuine pleasure."

You know the thank you is for more than the brownies. The thank you is for sitting in the gym with her and bringing her home safely without trying to force her to feel better. It is for making sure she is taken care of and loved even when she finds it hard to do that for herself. It's for being you.

A smile continues to play on your lips as you lean down and kiss her on the forehead, playing with her hair and continuing to watch Ted Lasso.

three.

Caitlin's birthday is approaching and you know something is bugging her but she hasn't said anything to you abut it yet.

The two of you are hanging out, running some errands on a Friday morning when you sense that she is stuck in her head. This happens every once and a while, typically they are things that she can shake but you have noticed she has been a little more preoccupied than previous times.

As the two of you are grocery shopping, you nudge her arm and ask her, "What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," she replies - lies, you think to yourself.

"Okay...well we should start talking about what you want to do for your birthday as it is right around the corner," you say as you pick up some apples. You continue, "Since you won't be here the day of, I was thinking we could do something before you head out of town for your away game." A smile is on your face as you try to get her mood up.

"Ya, sure, whatever," she says as she looks at some dried fruit. You are a little hurt by the response but don't let it show. You know her birthday isn't the biggest deal to her but you love celebrating her and every year she has let you do so to your heart's content. So what was different about this year?

You decide to drop the topic for now and finish your errands without further digging her into the hole inside of her head. When you get back to your joint apartment you decide you just want to plan something small for her this year with the two of you. Nothing too big but still satisfying your desire to celebrate her.

Over the next few days, you get to planning her pre-birthday celebration. Several different ideas come to mind, unsure of what to choose. You decide on a nice dinner at her favorite restaurant then heading back for a lazy evening with all of her favorite movies. As you are making reservations and thinking about what to get her as a gift you struggle. She doesn't need much and you got her a necklace last year. Not wanting to repeat that, you need to figure something out that she will love.

"Hey babe?" You ask as you want to see if you can get any little hint out of her of what she could possibly want.

She looks up at you with a hum.

"I am planning a little birthday thing for you, just the two of us, and want to get your thoughts," you say.

"Sure," she responds and you proceed to tell her the plan you came up with. When you are finished all she gives you is a little nod and then proceeds to go back to whatever it is that she is doing. This upsets but you take a deep breath and decide to try and get her out whatever sort of funk she is in.

"Caitlin, what's going on?" You begin, moving your laptop aside to sit and face her. "You have been more distant these past few days and I don't know what I have done wrong. Is this about your birthday? I know it isn't the most important thing to you but I love celebrating you and that has never bugged you before. If I am overstepping, please let me know and I will give you space but I need you to talk to me so I know what I need to do," you say.

She looks up at you with tired eyes, tears beginning to build in them. Your eyes go wide as you begin to panic. Your mind goes to the worst - she is going to break up with you. You rack your brain for what could have possibly triggered her wanting to end things but you can't think because you are too busy trying to remain calm. Her hand grabs your shaking one as you wait for her to respond.

"You are perfect," is all she says as she brings your hand to her lips.

A tear escapes down your face and you use your other hand to quickly wipe it, hopefully without her noticing. You failed in your attempt as her whole mood shifts once she sees you are crying. She drops your hand and brings you into a hug.

"If I am overstepping, I will step back - we can work out whatever you are feeling but please talk to me Cait, I don't want to lose you," you say holding back sobs that threaten to escape your lips. She squeezes you even closer to her chest as her heart begins to break. It was never her intention to get you thinking that she doesn't want you.

"Oh baby, I am not breaking up with you," she says as she gives you a little rock back and forth.

"You're not?" You say as you let a sob escape and allow yourself to be held.

"No babe. That isn't even close to the reason I have been stuck in my head. I am so sorry that is where your mind went but you can't get rid of me that easily," she says trying to lighten the mood a little. She continues. "I know you love celebrating me and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love that you are working around me being away for a game but if I am honest, the only thing I want is to be with you on my birthday and that isn't possible this year."

The second she says it, you jerk away from her and look at her. She looks a little defeated and sort of embarrassed that was the cause of her being stuck in her head while being with you but she can't help it, you are the only thing she wants.

"That's what this has been about? Not being with you on your actual birthday? You are adorable," you say and lean in to give her a kiss. That then sparks the perfect gift that you can think of to make this all go away - but you were going to let Caitlin sweat a little longer considering she had you thinking that she was going to break up with you. You also had to make the proper arrangements to make it all work out.

After that conversation, you both settle on your original plan of dinner and a night of movies. You promise her that you will do something with the team when everyone gets back and she seems a little more herself when you say that.

Time passes and it gets to the dinner reservation you made. You are both getting ready to make your way out. You check your purse to ensure you have her gift.

Once at the restaurant, you enjoy a beautiful 5-course meal with the perfect wine pairings. The meal was absolutely delicious. When planning the dinner you reached out to the restaurant and planned a special dessert for the evening. As you wait for it, you decide it is the perfect time for her to open her gift. Reaching into your purse you pull out a card and hand it over to her.

She takes the envelope and asks what it is. You laugh at her and tell her to open it to find out. She obliges and you wait for her reaction.

Opening the card it takes her a moment to process what she is seeing and reading. Her head whips up to you with wide eyes.

"You're coming to my game?" She asks looking happier than a kid on Christmas. You nod with a smile.

"It was the only logical thing to get you after that oh-so-serious talk, it was a no-brainer," you say. She begins to stand and you do as well. You meet in the middle in a hug and she whispers 'thank you' in your ear. You give her an extra little squeeze.

As you both sit down, Caitlin can't shake the smile that this gift has brought her. You sit across from her and admire how stunning she looks and are grateful that she is all yours.

AN: Please let me know what you think! I have a few of these in mind. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[gremlingottoosilly]

augh id be such a pathetic incubator for Monster!König. I’m terrified of men irl and he’d make me run for the hills with his height and voice and size and mask so if he had me as his pet human I’d literally just shut down. I’d be way too scared to fight back but I’d be trembling and weeping and trying to plead with him instead. No resistance only terrified sad submission 🥰

If I’m good for him would he pamper me or dress me up all pretty maybe??? Get me a nicer collar and a plush soft thing to hold for comfort??? I’m a singer, I can sing him to sleep or something if he needs something as extra payment!!!! 👉👈🥺

Konig will try to be a good owner for you!! He doesn't have any reason to let you wear clothes, only if you're going outside and he doesn't want his precious wife to catch a cold and suffer((( If you're nice enough and beg him to cover you with something while you're on the base, he will try his best to find you something skimpy, but nice, mostly transparent. Maybe a thin gown, covering you in soft fabrics and cute colors so you would look like a little present, all nice for him. He is using you to taunt other survivor humans - just look at you, so perfect and obedient for him, the only thing you can do is cry and beg him to save your life, it's adorable! You learned how to beg, you are so pretty on your knees when you're asking, pleading with him to save the lives of these random humans he found in the wilds. You'd look at the horrified survivors with tears in your eyes, as you slowly ease yourself onto his giant dick, as you take his eggs one by one, and cover his skin with kisses because he likes to feel your warm body against his.

He calls you his little songbird, makes you sing him to sleep and when he is down with stress and exhaustion. Places you on his lap and wraps his tentacle around your body, using you as a pretty plushie just for him. You're so nice, so smart for a human - you don't resist, just cry and beg him to save your life, this is how all humans should behave! If someone will ever try to free you, some dumb rebels from underground human fractions kidnapping pretty breeder from a monster's colonel...you beg them to just let you go, to not endanger themselves because Konig won't spare anyone who has touched you. Everyone in the compound thinks you're a broken and stupid monster slut, so addicted to the feeling of monster cock forcing its way in your holes, to the weight of eggs in your tummy, that you aren't even a human anymore(( no one understands what danger they are in - Konig can smell you from miles away, he is linked to your body and will never let you go this easily. Poor, dumb thing( He will never let you go out of his sight after he just crushed those dumb rebels - you're getting a very firm collar around your neck, you're getting tossed around at every strategic meeting with him, sobbing on his lap as other monsters are laughing and groping your swollen tummy.

[ken-dom]

hiiii first off i wanna say i love your work!!!

what r ur thoughts on six and body worship, both receiving and giving?

Hello anon! Thank you, that's very kind, and thank you for the tasty ask! Hope you enjoy my thoughts...

As well as for anon, this is for @heresthestorymorningglory aka Mrs Six. Thank you for everything 💖 and good morning 😈

Six and body worship

∘₊✧ NSFW, gn! and afab!reader, specific tags listed above each scenario

∘₊✧ SIX RECEIVING x GN!READER —

Hand job, praise, mentions of Six’s trauma and scars, aftercare

For Six, body worship would require a high level of trust; such an intimate act wouldn't come easily to him without it. You'd need to understand his boundaries and needs to help him feel safe. He’d need to let you in. But once you're there, it's the easiest thing in the world for you to worship his body.

He might find it a little overwhelming at first, blushing and whining at how good you can make him feel whilst he's so exposed. The way your fingertips tenderly trace over each twisted scar and raised mark on his body, while you whisper with lips that graze his shivering flesh between strategically placed kisses, how he is loved, handsome and strong, taking your time to ensure every last inch of him has been adored.

As hard as it is for him to hear it at first, while you caress the parts of him he previously only linked with trauma, his instinct to fight against your praise lessens the longer you go on until he starts to believe it himself.

He’s a puddle beneath you as you lavish him with affection designed to make him feel worthy, to show him just how sexy and strong he is. You’re so sure of it, and combined with your softness and the care you’re taking he wonders if you’re fixing him, somehow, somewhere deep he never wanted to explore.

He’s never needed you more, never whimpered for you before you even touched him. By the time you finally wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock he's bucking his hips up into your touch, desperate little pleads of, 'Please... please-' slipping out from between trembling lips, and you watch his muscles flex and tremble as he grips the headboard hard and unravels, hot and loud, to the sounds of your sensuous praise.

Aftercare is just as delicious. He dozes, wrapped safe in your arms listening to your soft voice pouring into his ear like warm honey, telling him how good he was for you, how you know he needed that, and how he deserves to feel good. How eventually, when he looks at his reflection in the mirror, he will be reminded of how strong and loved he is, and not of his past.

∘₊✧∘₊✧∘₊✧∘₊✧∘₊

∘₊✧ SIX GIVING x AFAB!READER —

Fingering, edging, praise, overstimulation

Six is nothing if he isn’t thorough in bed. He can have your knees weak in seconds with just a few whispered words, and have you begging to come undone in only a few more. He can spend hours between your thighs, worshipping you with his tongue, or his hands, without saying a word. And he fucks you good, like you’ve never been fucked. Each time, you wonder how it could be better than the last, but it is, somehow, and you’re hardly in a position to question it.

Six just loves to give you pleasure, to make you feel a fraction of what he feels when he thinks of you and what you share together, so you’re never left wanting. He keeps you satisfied easily and eagerly, and he can ignore his own needs for as long as it takes, which is rather dangerous for you if you think you’re getting any rest while he’s around.

So if he was going to really show your body the worship it deserves, you would know about it.

He starts slow, and continues on in very much the same vein. Hot breath misting against your skin and teasing touches cover every inch of your bare body, shivering but far too hot under his attentive gaze, building tension that he snaps without a beat the moment you interrupt. And then he will start again, right from the beginning.

If you disagree with his praise, if you fight what he’s telling you in any way, or if he feels you’re getting too close to release and haven’t had enough worship yet, he stops dead and just kisses you instead to keep you simmering. It’s languid and sensual, the slowest, most tender kiss you could imagine, while the rest of your body is burning up with need.

Only when you stop writhing and clenching your thighs together beneath him will he begin trailing his fingers over your wanting flesh again, begin repeating the phrases he wants you to hear and believe. And he takes you in, his eyes dragging hungrily over every last part of you as his fingers and palms explore, and he notes out loud every bit of you he adores.

He eventually will touch you where you crave him the most, strokes through your folds until you’re dripping, pumps his fingers and massages your clit just as frustratingly slowly as every other touch he’s given you, whilst spilling all the delicious, filthy praise you could ever wish to hear. And only then will he will let you unravel on his fingers, holding your trembling body close to his as he beckons you to orgasm and sees you through your bliss while you cling to him, fingertips biting into his muscles…

… Only to start over again the moment your breathing returns to normal. And he will keep going until you see what he sees, no matter how long it takes. Six doesn’t rest.

[nohoney]

k… sweetness I am in the heaviest mood for angst could u pretty pretty please write some for us 😞

angst for u darling╰(● ⋏ ●)╯

“Fuck you! Why won’t you listen to me?! I’m here, crying, and all you do is just roll your eyes at me!” You shout at him, replaying another bad fight that’s been happening too often in the past few months. His reactions have been the same lately. The impatience, the annoyance, the flippant answers he gives that only make everything worse.

Maybe you are too sensitive, maybe you ask for too much, maybe you could be more understanding of his side. But how much more understanding do you have to give your own boyfriend before he finally at least gives you some fraction of empathy that you need.

“All you ever do is cry! You find some reason to flip out on me and I have to gather you up and put you back together again! It’s exhausting!” your own boyfriend tells you.

He’s always been a little angry, always had a little bit of attitude, and he’d always snap first before he calmed down. There used to be a time that Bakugou would at least attempt to reconcile. He tried in the beginning. A part of you blames yourself, that perhaps all your neediness wore him down and he was fed up.

He was the one telling you in the beginning to always tell him what was on your mind. Now it seemed that when you finally did, there was nothing but resentment. You had gotten to used to seeing him angry at you, his red eyes glaring and his mouth set in a frown.

“You realize that you’re making a big deal of nothing right? You upset yourself and take it out on me!” Bakugou shouts, “I’m not a punching bag for when you feel like shit and I’m tired of your shitty reasons to start fights!”

Are they shitty? Are you making a big deal out of nothing again? Why is it if it’s nothing to him then it should be nothing to you? Is it so bad that you don’t like when he leaves during a fight? Is it awful that when he asks for space you blow up his phone demanding he answer you? Is it so bad that you get so angry you throw glasses against the wall because otherwise you’d punch your own mirror?

All these feelings well up and they go out of control. How many broken promises have you made to swear that you wouldn’t blow up again? Too many to count and here you were failing him again.

You say the same words whenever this happens and Bakugou sees it coming.

“You treat my feelings like they’re an inconvenience!” You tell him. You don’t feel seen or heard by him. Bakugou used to tell you that he’d rather you be honest about how you feel rather than keep quiet to keep the peace.

The routine is supposed to be that he rolls his eyes again, sits on the chair and argues a little more until you break down in more tears. He supposed to stop once you start bawling and he plays clean up. He only acknowledges afterwards that he should listen to you and he’s sorry that he’s stubborn and he’ll beg you to just calm down and swear that he’ll listen this second time.

“Just shut the fuck up!!”

And the world around you stops. The usual routine of a fight is thrown off instead of more crying, you’re stunned silent as you look at him. Bakugou has been disrespectful of your feelings before and vice versa there were times you didn’t respect his time to speak.

Never though had he ever spoken so harshly to you like this.

It worked though; you stopped crying. A part of you shrivels up inside and now you want to curl up in a ball and just hide away from the world. His hands touch your shoulders and he calls your name, trying to take back the awful words he shouted at you. “Baby, baby I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Please, don’t push me away! Baby-“ he’s pleading, not trying to be forceful on you but you shake off his touch.

Bakugou would always hug you after a fight, even if he was still angry at you and was still working off the residual. When he tries to pull you into that hug, for once you shrug out of his hold. You opt to lean against the wall for support. Lightheadedness creeps in and you feel a bit dizzy and your only goal is to make it to bed.

You don’t know what else to do except sleep away the numbness.

His words repeat over and over.

“Babe, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!” Bakugou is frantic behind you, unsure how to handle the sudden fragility that he’s brought on you. Screaming and screaming until you cry and make up is the only thing he knows. “Please, look at me! Don’t—babe, wait! It’s fucking three in the afternoon, why are you going in bed? We’ll talk, okay! I’ll listen!”

Suddenly you’re so tired, crawling underneath the quilt without even changing out of your indoor clothes into your comfy lounge shirt and shorts. Curling up, you face away from him. Away from his side of the bed and his pillow.

And Bakugou stands helpless, his apologies meaning nothing and wishing that you would at least curse him out like you did before.

[writeroutoftime]

choose me

pairing: eddie munson x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: based on the prompt “Choose me. Marry me. Let me make you happy.” - My Best Friend's Wedding

words: 0.6k

a/n: and here's another blurb I'm catching up on. this quote just fit so much with eddie to me, so please enjoy!!

oOoOo

It had been years since you both left Hawkins in your rearview mirror, never looking back as you headed for New York City. And in that time, you and Eddie remained as close as ever, even becoming roommates in the city that never sleeps. Sure, there were those who questioned if you and Eddie rooming together would ruin your friendship, but that was never the case.

In fact, you had your own love life that you were perfectly happy with. You had met a great guy, David, who you were going to marry and live happily ever after with. Everything was perfect. you told yourself over and over. At least, until Eddie decided to open his loudmouth.

"What do you want me to do, Eddie? Huh? 'Cause I don't know what's going to make you happy anymore." you shouted, scrubbing at your eyes in frustration, feeling like you were moving in circles with your argument with Eddie.

From the very beginning of getting together with David, Eddie had been against the relationship from the start. And now, days before your wedding, you had no idea how to fix this rift with your oldest friend. It absolutely broke your heart to think that Eddie wouldn't support your decision.

"This guy is a total douche, and you know that! You're just too scared to take a chance that you've settled for the first loser that came around." he pushed back.

His words stung, and somewhere deep inside you knew there was a sliver of truth to what he said. Maybe you were settling with David, but at least you were content. Sure, if life was a fairytale you'd be with Eddie, but you knew that wasn't how the world worked.

"Eddie, I'm tired of having this argument. I'm going to marry David, and you can be happy for me or not. The choice is yours." you said defeated.

“Choose me. Marry me. Let me make you happy.” Eddie pleaded, looking at you with those big, doe eyes. "You know he doesn't deserve you, so don't you dare settle for fine."

The silence that followed was unnerving as you looked at Eddie, tears pooling in your eyes. "W-why, Eddie? Why would you do this to me days before my wedding?" you whispered, not trusting your voice to stay steady any louder.

"I know. I'm a coward, I should've said something sooner. Years ago, in fact. But I can't watch you make this mistake. Please don't make me." he begged, then added almost inaudibly. "I love you."

Everything in your mind told you this was ludicrous. You couldn't call off an entire wedding, an entire year and a half relationship with David based on a whim. What if Eddie woke up tomorrow and regretted everything he told you tonight? You didn't think you could live with that kind of pain.

"I see that pretty mind of yours working, princess. But listen to your heart. Listen to your heart and if it tells you to marry David, then I'll back off. But even if a fraction of you is unsure, don't go through with it."

With a shaky breath, you closed your eyes and tried to sort through all your feelings. David may not make your heart flutter, but he could offer you a sense of safety and security. On the other hand, though, if Eddie meant what he said then your wildest dreams would be coming through. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, and you knew in that moment that you had to be brave.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see Eddie watching your every move expectantly. You walked the few feet towards him and placed your hands on both his cheeks. As you began to lean in, you heard Eddie's breath hitch at the proximity. But before you could fully lean in, you looked into his eyes, both brave and vulnerable.

"I'm following my heart. Don't make me regret this."

"Never, sweetheart." he vowed and closed the gap knowing he would never let you go now that you made your choice.

[heartfullofleeches]

Could you do a worshipper yandere love letter? I’m pretty sure tumblr keeps eating my request so they aren’t going through but anyways~ worshipper yandere writing us a confession letter talking about our divinity and how they would do anything for us to be with them and just wanting our attention. Like begging us for a chance. THANK YOU

You find a letter on your doorstep. Sealed in a red wax lies a note with your name written in black ink. It reads:

"Dear Grace,

I apologize for using your name without consent. I know that it was the easiest, and most comforting way to get you attention. Just know that by reading this, you've yet again saved me from the darkest pits of hades. The thought of your eyes scrolling over these words makes a shiver run down my spine. Know they are only a fraction of the gratitude I have for you.

To put it lightly - you are my angel. A God reborn. You pulled me from the wreckage of my former life and made me immortal in your shadow. Every breath you take is another year added on to my existence. Your smile from afar can brighten one's entire being. Which is why I beg of you to allow me to walk at your side.

Let me near you. Breath you. Seeing you is enough to settle my weary soul, but not my lustful heart. I long to feel you. Taste you. It is not a mercy I deserve, but I plead that someday I'm worthy enough for just one kiss from your lips. To know their feeling is to know true peace.

I apologize for taking so much of your time. My heart took over my pen writing. If you bare me the honor of meeting, just scream. I am always listening. Thank you for reading, my saving grace.

Forever yours, ♡"

[bird-inacage]

Love in the Air: Prapai’s Rescue of Sky (The Ambush Aftermath)

I always knew, KNEW that I would have to write a deep dive on the Sky & Prapai aftermath scenes (following Sky’s ambush). I knew that they were going to be emotionally weighty and encompass some of the most incredible acting of the series. These scenes deserve every bit of neurotic over-analysis.

Part 1: "Answer me!”

When Prapai first approaches Sky after the attack, Sky is clearly shell-shocked, unresponsive and already starting to shut down. Note that Prapai begins by calling out to Sky in a neutral tone. When Prapai quickly realises that Sky is not responding to him, he panics. Panics severely. So he raises his voice and shakes Sky, and raises his voice again. He literally yells “Answer me!”

This is the line that really hit me, because I wasn’t expecting it at all. We always see Prapai as being very soft and coaxing with Sky. In Sky’s most vulnerable moment yet, Prapai yells harder than we’ve ever heard him raise his voice. Now note that this is not a yell at Sky, but for Sky. He sees that Sky is shutting down, which is a really bad sign. And Prapai, out of sheer desperation and panic, shouts in an attempt to get through to him.

And most importantly, it works. It’s amazing how Prapai instinctively seems to know what he needs to do to reach Sky in the quickest way possible. He demonstrated this in the notebook scene, and now here too.

Once Sky finally registers that Prapai is there with him, he immediately pleads. Now this is the first time Prapai has gotten any direct reference to what Sky went through. Nothing further really warrants being said. The implication is loud and clear. Prapai appears to be stunned at first, taken aback by what he’s hearing. Slowly but surely registering this information as the pieces begin to fall into place in his head. It’s incredibly difficult to process such upsetting information all at once. Also because he’d probably never, ever, even contemplated that Sky’s trauma could be in connection to something as heinous and cruel as this.

We see Prapai grimace, bow his head in both anger and heartbreak over what he’s just heard. For all the tumultuous feelings that must be crushing him in that moment, he reigns them all in. Desperately squashes down his absolute fury for the sake of the person trembling before him. He collects himself to ensure he is who Sky needs to be. The gentle, soothing, reassuring Prapai. The protective Prapai. He immediately responds to Sky’s questions in an attempt to allay any spiralling thoughts Sky may have. He returns to a soft tone of voice. It’s almost like Prapai doesn’t want to risk spooking Sky any further.

Part 2: “I told you to cry! I’m begging you!”

It’s Sky’s need for Prapai that snaps him out of beating the shit out of Gun. Rain’s calls of alarm, divert Prapai’s attention. Yes, he understandably wants revenge. Yes, he desperately wants this man to feel even a tiny fraction of what he’s inflicted on Sky. But Sky comes first and above all else. Always.

When Prapai returns to Sky, Sky is visibly numb. Sky is starting to repress in an attempt to avoid feeling anything. And this is where we see Prapai quickly break down. After the initial adrenaline of getting Sky out of danger, then taking his anger out on said danger, Prapai only has heartbreak and worry remaining. Prapai has never seen Sky in this state. He’s seen varying degrees of sadness or grief, he’s seen Sky cry, wail and sob. But he’s never seen Sky retreat into himself like this.

It’s the most extreme form of Sky’s defence mechanisms. Prapai knows that this is only pushing down the torrent of pain and internalising it. This will only do Sky more harm in the long-term. Prapai has seen Sky display signs of an already fractured state to his mental health, and Prapai can’t allow Sky to inadvertently hurt himself further. Prapai can’t afford to lose Sky now, not emotionally, not mentally, not at all. Not when he loves him so dearly. Not when they just started to be so happy.

So Prapai begins to plead for Sky to feel something - to cry, to exhibit any form of emotion. Because the way Sky is retreating, is like Sky disappearing in front of Prapai’s very eyes. He’s watching the person he loves become a shell, a husk. Sky being numb is a way of shutting everything out. Not just his pain, but potentially all his other emotions too - including his love for Prapai.

And it’s not just numbness. There’s also a heavy sense of weariness. Sky looks so distant and tired, like he’s given up fighting. Like he doesn’t want to fight for himself anymore. He’s so exhausted and battle-worn from just fending off the residual trauma, let alone this entire situation on top of that. If you follow that line of thought, I’m sure you’d understand in a heartbeat why Sky’s response worries Prapai so much.

Crying is a form of release. And that’s what Prapai wants for Sky. He wants Sky to at least release the pain and hurt he’s holding in. He doesn’t want Sky to be compromised as a result of this. He wants Sky to stay his Sky. His every command to Sky is almost like he’s praying, ‘please baby, please fight for me, please come back to me, don’t leave me, don’t give up, not like this’.

In the midst of Sky’s catatonic state, he stops to ask why Prapai is crying. He does this again in the scene after as well. There’s something innate in Sky, something still fundamental that is compassionate. That is loving. In the middle of all his own torment and suffering, the pain he sees Prapai going through pulls him out a fraction. But the question also genuinely comes from the voice of a younger, broken Sky. The Sky who is asking ‘Why are you crying for me? Why would you care enough to cry for me? No one cares about me, right? My sadness is worth nothing, right? I’m worthless aren’t I?’

The absolute killer is that Prapai understands. He sees and knows Sky far better than Sky realises. He knows what Sky is thinking, how Sky is thinking. He now sees even more clearly why Sky thinks the way that he does.

“If you can’t cry, I’ll cry for you. If you suffer, I’ll suffer with you. If you’re in pain, I’ll be in pain too.”

Prapai’s vow explains to Sky that it’s no longer just you and me anymore. We are one. Everything we experience, we share. It doesn’t just communicate how Prapai will help shoulder Sky’s pain and his burdens, but that it is physically impossible for Prapai to consider himself independent of Sky anymore. It’s a reiteration to Sky that’s he’s not alone. He’ll never be alone again. ‘You can’t shut me out, you can’t leave me behind, because wherever you go, I go. Whatever you feel, I feel.’

When Prapai says to Sky, “let me cry in your stead”, this comes from a place of immense understanding that Sky has been through so much pain, that perhaps he feels he has no more tears left to cry. Nothing left in him to even muster the response. And if that’s the case then Prapai will be his vessel, and will let these emotions out on his behalf.

His last phrase, “I’ll be in pain too” almost feels like another attempt to shake Sky out of his state of shock. He realises that Sky may be able to pull himself out of misery, if motivated by his respective concern and love for Prapai. If Sky is acutely aware that wherever he goes, Prapai will follow, then he may be more conscious about trying not to let himself slip off the precipice.

And finally Prapai reiterates that despite everything, despite the revelation, he still loves Sky. Of course he does. But Sky needed to hear that. He was so worried about how Prapai would react after finding out about his abuse. He refers to himself as ‘damaged goods’ in a later scene. He probably thought that Prapai would find him shameful, dirty, untouchable. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

It’s once again Prapai’s love that pulls Sky back from the brink, that rescues Sky from imminent self-destruction. Prapai’s assurance that he will stay, that he will continue to love Sky no matter what, is what snaps Sky out of his sinking pit of despair. And when he does, the deluge of emotions he was trying so desperately to restrain, all rise to the surface.

I found the performances from both Fort and Peat to be absolutely arresting. And not just the body language, but the line delivery was a huge part of how the scenes impacted me. This is by no means an easy subject matter to tackle for any actor, so I am immensely proud of these boys.

[unforgivenn]

THE ENDLESS NIGHTMARE (I didn't know what else to name itಥ_ಥ)

Masterlist

Bringing back Caleb and dominic :3

Caleb sat in the dark, dank room, the heavy air pressing down on him. His head pounded, a relentless, throbbing ache that seemed to echo the turmoil within his mind. Though the room was stiflingly warm, he shivered, his skin clammy and sweaty. He'd lost track of how many days he'd been in this hell, how many nights he'd spent drifting in and out of feverish nightmares.

He couldn't take it anymore. The isolation, the pain, the constant fear. It was too much. He could hear the whispers of his own thoughts, mocking him, driving him to the brink. Caleb pulled his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible, trying to disappear. He squeezed his eyes shut wishing that somehow he would end up back at home and that all of this was just horrible nightmare. You know how sometimes you get dreams that feel so unbelievingly real only to wake up with your head on the soft cushions? Caleb wished just that. But the darkness behind his eyelids was no better than the darkness of the room.

"P-Please," he whispered to no one. "Please, I-I can't-.. I-i can't do this anymore."

The door creaked open, and Caleb's heart skipped a beat. He knew who it was before he even saw him. Dominic. The man who had brought him to this place, who had stripped away everything that made him feel human.

Dominic stepped into the room, his presence like a cold gust of wind. He looked down at Caleb with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. "Caleb," he said, his voice smooth and detached as if he hadn't just snatched away someone's freedom. "How are we feeling today, kitten?"

Caleb didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat was raw, his voice a mere rasp. Instead, he just stared at Dominic, his eyes pleading, begging for some shred of mercy.

Dominic crouched down, his face now level with Caleb's. "You're looking worse than usual," he said, almost conversationally. "I guess the fever's not helping, is it?"

Caleb's thoughts were a chaotic mess. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to make Dominic feel even a fraction of the pain he was in. But even his body betrayed him, too weak to even move. All he could do was sit there, shaking and helpless wishing he didn't look as pathetic as he felt.

Dominic reached out and placed a hand on Caleb's forehead, as if checking for a temperature. The touch was cold, clinical, devoid of any compassion. "You're burning up," he said, almost to himself. "We can't have you dying on me now, can we?"

Caleb's mind screamed at the injustice of it all. He didn't care anymore if he died. Death would be a release, a way out of this nightmare. But Dominic wouldn't allow it. He needed Caleb alive, needed his suffering to continue.

"Please," Caleb managed to croak. "Just... let me go."

Dominic's eyes hardened, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let you go? Oh, Caleb, where's the fun in that? You're not ready to leave just yet. We still have sooo much more to do."

Caleb's vision blurred with tears. He felt himself slipping further into despair, the last fragments of his sanity crumbling away. How much more could he take? How much longer could he survive?

Dominic stood up and walked to the corner of the room, where a table was laden with various instruments of torture. He picked up a syringe and filled it with a clear liquid. "This will help with the fever," he said, approaching Caleb once more. "We can't have you losing your mind completely, now can we?"

Caleb flinched as the needle pierced his skin, the cold liquid spreading through his veins. He felt a brief moment of relief, the fever easing slightly, but it was short-lived. The weight of his situation crashed down on him again, heavier than ever.

As Dominic watched him, Caleb's thoughts turned dark. He imagined all the ways he could end it, end the pain, the suffering. But Dominic would never let him. He was trapped as a prisoner to Dominic's twisted whims.

The room spun around him, the edges of his vision darkening. He felt himself slipping away, his mind retreating into a merciful, numbing oblivion. As he drifted off, he heard Dominic's voice, a sinister lullaby.

"Sleep well, kitten. We'll continue our fun tomorrow."

Caleb's last thought before the darkness took him was a desperate, silent plea. Please Let me die.

Taglist: @miireux134 @someoneoninternettt @nuriiz134 @anutz134 @ash-reh (let me know if you want to be added or removed <3)

[just-horrible-things]

Dark!Resistance x Chewtoy!Ariadne Interrogation

The ka-clunk of the cell door is final. 

One day I'm gonna close this on you for real. 

Ari sprawls shuddering and gasping on the concrete where hundreds have shuddered and gasped out their last painful breaths, where they have broken and screamed and pleaded for mercy that never ever comes.

Their ghosts are in the concrete with the stains with the echo of their screams. The cell is hungry for pain and death and Ari is just the latest in a long long line of victims and she's choking on her terror and the nightmare hasn't even started. 

There are so so many ways to ruin a human body and she is guilty of so many of them and if they do to her even a fraction of what she's done to their kind she will lose her mind she will be nothing but pain and pain and terror and desperation and they don't have to stop there. 

How much more to fear when they have every tool she's ever used and then magic besides, when they could set her alight with a gesture or strip the skin from her flesh or a hundred hundred things she can't even imagine and they can keep her alive as long as they like. 

She hopes for Riven, for the feds to drive out the invaders because even if they make her a traitor and a prisoner and Riven gets to kill her slowly at least it will be finite, at least she knows he can't keep his toys alive forever. 

She hopes for a warlock angry enough that they'll kill her then and there and she should have died fighting, should have done everything she could to make them kill her because she might have died screaming but at least it would be minutes or seconds not months or years. 

She has no sense of time passing. She is sobbing onto the concrete and then a little later she is just hyperventilating and then later still she is just panting and snivelling. Her arms went numb at some point. The sounds outside get clearer as her ears recover but she can make little sense of the clamour. It's all voices and gunfire, screams and orders and banging and then it is quieter and then louder again and it all rattles around indecipherably in her skull with the terror. 

It doesn't matter what's happening out there. Nothing matters to prisoners except when there will next be pain. Her world is this cell now and she wasn't ready, no one is ever ready, she should have done something anything everything differently to end up anywhere but here but maybe she's been falling her whole life and she was never going to end anywhere but here. 

When the door finally bangs open she doesn't get time to beg for mercy. An unseen force throws her against the back wall. Her arms – still pinned behind her back – do a little to cushion her back, but the jolt to straining, burning shoulders is not worth it.

The sound she makes is less a yelp and more just the ooff of the air knocked out of her. When she's dropped – hard impact on one shoulder – she has no breath for anything but a comedic squeak.

The warlock’s boots – brown, scuffed and starting to fall apart – stop close to her face. With her arms pinned, Ari can't even shield her face. She gasps, and gasps, lungs refusing to fill. 

“No fight?” the warlock taunts. It cuts through the fog of panic just a fraction. Words, she should use words. “-- no, sir –!” “No sir,” he echoes, imitating her breathless squeak. “Wow, am I sir now I'm the one with the keys?” “Yes. Sir. Please –” He makes a disgusted sound in his throat, and kicks her in the stomach. 

It's about as hard as Riven would kick her. It hurts but it could be harder. Hope flares. “Whadyouwant?” she forces from empty lungs, “I'll, I'll – coop’rate – sir.” “Pathetic.” He drawls the word. If it's meant to sting she's too scared to feel it. Pathetic doesn't matter. 

She twitches in an instinctive bid to curl up, and the pain creaks audibly in the shoulder underneath her. She makes a pitiful sound in the back of her throat.

“Alright, bootlicker.” That same whole-body force takes her in its invisible grip again. She yelps as the ground falls out from under her. “Give me a good reason not to take you apart just to hear you scream.”

He sets Ari on her knees, and she very nearly falls back over immediately. To catch herself she doubles forwards – back splitting, shoulders searing – over her knees. 

“I'll – I'll talk – you want talk? or –” Anything else he could want is worse but god what does it matter. “-- whatever you want I'll – suckyourcock or – f’lloworders or – anythingwhateveryouwant.”

Anything if it isn't paying in screams for everything she's done to his kind, anything that isn't him ripping her to pieces right here right now anything to put it off just a little longer.

Another snort of disgust. Ari flinches expecting another blow. She knows exactly what she looks like. Coward selling out under the slightest pressure, torturer fucking terrified of torture, faithless spineless traitor to everything and everyone. She doesn't care. She's all those things and she doesn't care.

“Talk’s a good start,” her interrogator finally concedes. Ari could sob, she could kiss him. She has something he wants besides screams. “Start with your friends. Who's who around here, who's in charge.”

So she talks. She trips over her tongue trying to talk faster than her stupid stuttering panic will let her. Most of what she says is fucking useless she's sure – he doesn't even bother writing much of it down – but he lets her talk.

She can tell he doesn't think much of her eagerness to throw her colleagues under the bus but fuck them, fuck every single one of them. If Ari's dying a bad death here so the fuck are they. Every single one of them could have helped her and did nothing.

When she runs out of things to say about her ““friends”” the warlock quizzes her on the layout of the building. She doesn't understand half the questions, all left-from-the-right and double-doors-this and practically every door in the building is a double door which doors does he mean? 

He gets frustrated trying to match her gibbering to his questions and his anger makes it harder to think, he's going to start hurting her any second and she can't –

He slaps her. 

When that doesn't shock sense out of her he slaps her again. Ari’s lungs loosen a fraction, enough to pull in deeper breaths, enough to get more words out. 

She has time. He's not escalating fast. Her eyes are wet from the sting in her face. She keeps on trying to answer his questions. Gradually he hashes out sense from her confusion.

She tells him where all the locks and alarms and security centers she knows about are. She tells him everything she can remember about security protocols that are 100% not relevant anymore if he's here holding the keys and interrogating her but he listens. He lets her talk. It's something to say to appease him.

She gets the impression he's curious how much she can come up with. Dread keeps her babbling. When she runs out of information, he runs out of reasons not to take her apart. 

He asks for her login to the IT systems. Ari starts to tell him without hesitation but when she gets to her password she cannot remember. She just stops, mouth open, feeling the gears jam insie her head. She types this shit every fucking day, multiple times a day but there's just a gaping fucking hole in her thoughts where the answer should be.

The warlock hits her, harder than before. A solid punch across her jaw that sends her sprawling. For a few seconds her face and the shoulder she lands on are the only things she feels, bright and sharp enough to numb out everything else.

“I, I can,” she promises, “I will I just – forgot – I just – needasecond – just –”

He gives her a second. Several, while she pants against the concrete and rattles frantically at the empty space in her head. 

He taps his foot impatiently, very close to Ari's face. 

“I c-can’t remember – I’mtryingIswear – I could – type it, giveme a keyboard I could type it–”

He kicks her, and keeps kicking her. Ari yelps, and squirms, and howls, and the world narrows as she thrashes trying to roll and failing. There’s nothing else only his feet and her fragile body and the snap of ribs caving in and her panicked pointless squirming and he puts a boot on her back and wrenches her arms up til she’s shrieking.

“Sorry! SorrysirI'msorry! Please!” “Oh shut the hell up. What are you, a child? Cut the pitiful crap, we both know you don't deserve a shred of mercy.”

Ari fights back sobs. He's going to rip her arms out of their sockets and that's only the start. It's only the start he's going to take her to pieces and she can do nothing.

The pressure relents, if only a fraction. Ari chokes on another sob. She’s breathing. She’s still breathing. Her ribs aren’t broken or – not many, not badly. She isn’t drowning blood. She’s breathing. Her arms are still attached to her body.

“Still can’t remember that password?” “No – sir – I’m sorry –” “Shut it. Fine. We'll come back to it.” It’s mercy. If he was Riven she'd thank him. He doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't know what else she can say. “Let's get to the important shit.” A fraction more pressure, forcing her to try and arch her back under his boot. Just a reminder of the power he holds as if she could possibly forget. 

The important shit is plans, protocols, overarching policy that Ari has mostly never even heard of. Even when she has some idea what he’s talking about she knows only the faintest outlines of what the rest of the department, the rest of the fucking government get up to.

He asks questions, and she guesses, or she lies, desperately trying to fill in the gaps. She isn’t any better at lying than at anything else. She tries to be vague to cover for her ignorance and he doesn’t want vague he wants dates, times, names. Raid plans, emergency protocols, heads of sub-departments. Where backup is likely to be coming from and when and how many.

“I don't know,” Ari is forced to admit. She knows it’s the wrong answer but her head is too blank to invent anything better. “I don’t know sir, I’m sorry, I’d tell you, I don’t know I don’t have clearance.”

She repeats it over and over. She stammers it into the concrete. She wails it as he leans pressure on her bound shoulders yet again and the joints creak and grind and spasm and threaten to give way. She sobs it frantically, pitifully as his temper climbs.

He throws her at the wall again. He kicks her. He hauls her up by her arms only to hit her and send her sprawling. He crushes her face into the concrete with the blood-soaked sole of a boot.

None of it is too far none of it is breaking her she knows he’s holding back and giving her a chance but she can’t tell that to the fear inside of her. The panic is out of all proportion, out of control, clawing wild through body and mind and leaving her thrashing and fighting and sobbing apologies all at the same time.

“Cut it out,” the warlock is growling. She’s face down again, his bruising grip on her arms trying to hold her. “Cut it out, stop squirming, shut the fuck up and listen to me.”

She wants to, she means to, she knows she needs to obey or he's going to really hurt her but the fear has other ideas and she doesn’t mean to but she kicks out at him again and even the spike of pain as her heel connects is barely felt, it's nothing to what he's going to do she needs to stop–

Her arm gives way – not at the shoulder where she expects it but the forearm – a sick crack and pain – real tearing serious pain as bone snaps. Every twitch is now – hot white pain – pulling – broken bone grinding on bone and – even the mad animal in her doesn’t take long to understand to hold still. 

Her head is ringing. Her breath is burning in her throat. Someone on the other side of concrete – someone not her – is screaming.

“Do I have to keep breaking things or are you going to lie fucking still?” Ari doesn't trust herself to answer without babbling again. Is laying fucking still answer enough? His grip shifts, and a high, thin whine slips out of her. “None of that. Answer the damn question. Are you gonna talk to me, or are you just gonna thrash and scream on the floor?” “Talk,” she manages. Her voice is a croak. “Sir.”

He drops her arm – both her arms – and despite her promise she bucks and kicks at the floor again in a futile, instinctive bid to escape the knives through the break and through both shoulders. The warlock steps back and lets her thrash.

He gives her time. He waits until she can see again, until she’s able to swallow back the pathetic sound she’s making, until she’s still. 

Numb fingers twitch at her sides, felt only as spikes up and down the nerves. Ari pants open-mouthed like a dog, and lies fucking still, and waits for instruction.

“Let's try that again.”

Again, and it will be worse this time, and worse, and worse, over, and over, until she is nothing but a twitching, suffering lump of meat. She chokes on nothing, desperate not to start panicking again.

“Pull yourself together.” Contempt drips from his every word. “I've barely hurt you. You've done far worse.” Ari tries to breathe deeper. He's right, she knows he is. Her breaths come ragged and choppy but she manages at least a little control. “Up. C’mon, let me get a look at you.”

Her broken arm drags, but she doesn't need her arms to get up on her knees. The warlock looks down at her – her blotched, sticky face, the fresh tears in her eyes – without sympathy. 

“God, you're for real, aren't you.” Ari snivels, and says nothing. She doesn’t know what he wants. “I didn't know they made ‘em this fucking weak. I thought you were supposed to be… elite special agent whatevers. Well. Chill the fuck out. You stop fucking kicking me and I won't break any more bones. Capiche?” When she nods, the world blurs around her. “Yes, sir,” she whimpers.

“So talk to me. Tell me how you expect me to believe you don't have “clearance” for anything.” “I’m – I’m just a grunt, sir. It’s need-to-know – everything’s need-to-know it’s – I don’t – I don’t need to know so they don’t tell me – anything, sir.”

Under her fingers, through the sting of reawakening nerves, she can feel the edge of the bone pressing at the inside of her skin. If it was Riven he wouldn’t have let go, he wouldn’t be letting her cradle the arm against her chest. He wouldn’t be giving her the space to put her words in order. She tries to hold onto that.

“It’s, it’s in our files,” she volunteers. “There’s, somewhere there’s files on all of us and it says what clearances we have – there’s, codes for everything, different teams and, operations, and ranks, and – you need someone more important than me, sir, I’m sorry, you need, Maclauren or, or Bloome, or – someone more important than me. I-it’s in our files, it says what we’re allowed to know.”

The warlock sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks at Ari cringing on her knees, and she swallows back more apologies. He doesn’t want to hear it. She can practically hear his thoughts – great, the only one who wants to talk to him and she’s fucking useless – well they don’t put people like her in charge of anything, do they. She isn’t brave enough to say so. He’ll figure it out himself or he won’t.

He has a few more questions for her. She’s still no use, but he doesn’t hit her again. She starts to hope that maybe he believes she really doesn’t know – and she dreads the thought too, because if she’s not any use for talking, she is only good for entertainment or revenge or – whatever they want to call it. There’s no good outcome here. All she can do is try to earn less-bad.

“We’re not done with you,” the warlock tells her as he leaves. “No, sir,” she agrees miserably. “I’ll cooperate, I swear I’ll keep cooperating.” “Yeah,” he says, “We’ll see. Don’t forget I want your fucking password.”

The door swings shut and locks with a ka-clunk.

One day this door’s gonna close on you and never open again.

Ari shuffles herself to the back corner of the cell. She leans her less bad arm against the wall. She expects to cry, but there are no tears. Just full-body shudders to keep her broken arm burning no matter how she tries to hold it. She rests her head against the wall’s cool concrete, and she breathes.

[imawreck]

Nightmare

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Bucky and Max grow closer and share a moment together in the midst of nightmares.

Warnings: Nightmares, mild panic, some steaminess 👀, issues with self image

Word Count: 3,942

Bucky-

There was never peace in sleeping. Not for me, anyways. I'm always plagued by the things I have done, the things I avoid thinking about in the day time. If I can escape them then, I get a brief reprieve from their terror. Once the sun goes down though, I can never escape.

There was a woman, young, couldn't be much older than twenty. She sat in the center of a cell with her hands bound and her eyes covered in a ragged piece of cloth. Dirt covered her clothes and clung in muddy clumps on her auburn hair. I had no idea why she was there or what I was doing. But we weren't alone.

A man stood on the other side of her cell. He was tall and built, his bald head shining under the single light that hung from the ceiling behind him. There was a sick look in his eyes, a violent look. I stood across from him, looking between him and the girl. I wanted to protect her. I could feel that this man didn't have good intentions for her. She was innocent.

The man grinned, staring me down across the cell. He spoke through rotten teeth, "Soldat." My heart jumped into my throat. I could feel my muscles tense under my uniform. My Hydra uniform. Oh god, please no. My attention snapped to him against my will.

"Kill her."

Just like that, I was wrenching open the door to the cell. The woman was screaming, pleading with me to let her live. I wanted to let her live. I didn't want to kill her, she didn't deserve to die. But it wasn't my choice.

My fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing her throat under my palms. Her fingernails scrapped the skin off my arm and raked down the plates of my other. Still, my hands clenched tighter no matter how much I screamed into my own head. Suddenly her fingers stopped trying to pry my hands away and instead reached up to grip the cloth covering her eyes. Her hair turned white as her fingers ripped off the blindfold and suddenly her face changed. Her eyes that bright familiar blue that always brought me back.

Every part of my body refused to listen to me, no matter how much I begged for it all to stop. I felt hot tears making their way down my face and dripping onto her angry red cheeks. Max, my Max, was dying. And it was all my fault.

The man across the cell started to laugh. It was a loud and shrill sound that didn't fit him at all. It was alien and didn't belong. Nor would it stop even after my mind had gone dark right as Max's eyes rolled behind her lids. The man's laugh started to sound more and more like an alarm. It echoed in my head and all around me. I couldn't escape it.

There was something else too, something soft and muffled that mixed with it. It became clearer, louder over the alarm, until it yanked me from the darkness.

"Bucky!"

My eyes tore open and I launched into a sitting position on the bed. My heart pounded in my ears and the sudden change of scenery had me reeling. Max stood at the end of the bed, eyes frantic and honed on me. My covers were thrown to the floor and I laid there staring back at her in nothing but a pair of sweats. Her blue eyes were frantic as they scanned over me.

There was no alarm, and Max stood in the darkness only illuminated by the dim light streaming from the open door. Her chest heaved like mine did, and she watched me as I came down from the panic. I didn't know what was real, or if my dream had really been a dream, but seeing her there seemed to cement me to reality if just a fraction. Max stood there in a brown oversized T-shirt that hung off one shoulder and draped over her thighs. There was a silvery scar peaking just over her shoulder before she tugged her shirt back over it.

Her hair was a mess and her eyes were wild as she repeated my name again, "Bucky?"

I shakily reached for her, feeling my eyes burn with tears I couldn't stop. I didn't want to touch her but I yearned for the comfort her presence brought me. The dream was all too fresh on my mind, so I dropped my hand back like lead weight to the sheets. She took soft steps to the edge of my bed, her eyes searching in the dim light. Her hand reached for my own, but I pulled it further away from her and pushed myself farther up the bed until my back hit the headboard.

Her voice called to me again, "Bucky, what's wrong?"

I couldn't keep my voice steady, "Don't touch me." I wanted so badly to touch her, to reach out and know she was real and alive.

"Friday woke me up, said you were shouting. I was worried so I came to see you." Her fingers curled around the sheets at the edge of the bed and her brows pinched in concern. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head, pressing my palms against my forehead to hide my face out of view, "I...I don't know."

I felt a dip in the bed, and then some shuffling. I felt her hands wrap around my wrists and pull them away from my face. She held them in her lap, playing with my fingers as she looked at me with kind eyes. Her skin was soft against the back of my palm and my hands itched to hold her, to ground myself in the moment and never let it go. "You shouldn't be here."

Another frown tugged at her lips but she refused to release my hands and I made no move to pull away from her. "I think I should be." She watched me for a moment before she spoke again, "Can I lay with you?"

I should've said no for her own safety. The images of my hands squeezing the life from her were still painfully fresh on my mind, but I couldn't find my voice and my own body betrayed me with a nod. She shifted my hands out of her lap and laid down beside me, tugging the covers over herself. I was increasingly aware of myself, of the sweat drenching both me and the bedsheets below me, the pounding of my heart in my chest. Max didn't seem to mind though, simply fluffing the pillow and plopping her head down. Her blue eyes found mine again and she gave me a soft smile, her hand reaching out from under the covers.

I was hesitant to touch her, afraid I would somehow harm her without meaning to, but the need to feel her skin against my own became too great. I knew that Max wasn't delicate, she was anything but. Somehow though, with the way she was looking at me now, she didn't seem so invincible. My hand pressed itself into her own, and I allowed her to cradle it gently against her forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch and brought a trail of tingles wherever her skin touched mine. Her eyelashes brushed against my knuckles as she shut her eyes, breathing out a sigh.

We both sat like that for a while, an hour maybe. I listened to her breathing and the soft sounds of her steady heartbeat while she held my hand. Once I had calmed down, Max spoke up from her place on the bed. "Would you like me to read to you? Sometimes, when I have nightmares, reading helps take me somewhere different."

I turned her words through my head as she swept her thumb across my hand. I didn't want to talk about it right away, I just wanted rest. I could feel the exhaustion seeping into me as the fear began to subside. Reading seemed like a good idea to me, so I nodded.

When she went to move away, unlacing her fingers from mine, panic shot through me like a bolt once more, "Wait." I gripped her hand, holding my weight up on my left arm. I looked at her waiting eyes.

She was so patient, even smiled. "I'll be right back, I promise." Her hand squeezed my own and then she slipped away back through the door as quiet as a mouse.

After a few minutes her silhouette appeared back in the doorway without a sound, book in hand. I heard the faintest patter of her feet on the cold floor as she made her way back into the bed with me. She tucked herself back under the covers and opened the book in her hand, the old spine cracking as she flipped through the pages to one that was dogeared. She glanced at me from the pillow, and waved her hand down. "You can't be comfortable sitting like that, come lay with me."

I did as she requested, sinking back into the bed beside her and slipping back under the sheet. Max waited patiently, flipping through the pages until something slipped out of it and onto the covers. She plucked it up and twirled it in the dim lighting. The flower I had given her was pressed neatly with all the blossoms on full display. It was perfectly captured in time. She leaned over to set it on my nightstand and scooted herself closer to me, our arms pressing together under the blankets.

She began to read off each poem slow and melodically in a way that calmed me. Listening to her voice, soft and tired with sleep even as she insisted she was alright, washed away the remnants of my fear. I stared at her as she read, completely unashamed, studying the curve of her lips and the way they quirked when she read something cheesy. Her fingers swept over the pages with gentle care, dragging over the words as she read them aloud. I hadn't realized she had finished the book until she moved away to place it with the flower on the nightstand before slipping back in beside me.

She tucked herself back in, covers pulled all the way up to her chin, and looked up at me with those bright blue eyes that glimmered in the light filtering through the hallway. "Friday, " she whispered, "Turn off the hallway light."

The A.I. complied instantly and we were plunged into the darkness.

_____

Max-

I could see him through the darkness, watching him as he searched for me in the short distance across the mattress. I moved my hand to his, slipping my fingers between his own and resting it there. His sigh of relief fanned over my face as he gripped my hand back. "Bucky?" I spoke barely above a whisper, afraid to shatter this perfect moment.

"Yeah?"

My chest swelled with nerves, and I could feel my heartbeat speed up as I stared at him across the sheets. At our clasped hands. I pushed up from the bed, leaning myself on my elbow and reaching for his face. His stubble was rough against my palm and his long hair brushed against the back of my knuckles. I could feel his breath mix with my own as I hovered near him, watching his face.

"I..." I didn't get the chance to finish my sentence before his lips crashed into mine, hot and wanting.

I felt his hand slip under my jaw, tilting my head up and threading his fingers through my hair. His metal hand laid limp in his lap, as he refused to touch me with it. I slid my other hand over his shoulder and pulled him closer, gliding myself onto his lap as he pushed himself up against the headboard once more. Bucky was gentle as he pressed kisses to my lips, but I could feel the restraint he held as he did so. I kissed him back hard, matching his movements with equal measure. I slid my hands through his hair and down his shoulders until I met metal.

Bucky shifted his shoulder away from me and took his lips with it. "Don't, it's not good."

I frowned into the darkness, panting from the sudden kiss. "What makes it bad?"

"Everything it stands for. This thing was made to kill, I was made to kill."

I studied him for a beat as I caught my breath,"So was I, but I don't see either of us doing that now. Not for anyone we don't want to ever again." I touched his shoulder once more, feeling the rough skin where metal met flesh and I soothed the scars there. "This is a part of you, and you, James Buchanan Barnes, are not at all bad." I slid my hand down the plates of his arm, listening to the mechanics whir under my touch. "You make this good. You use it for good and nothing less. I've seen it." I let my eyes lift back to his face.

I let my fingers curl around the cool metal of his wrist and lifted it to meet my hip, pressing his fingers there and letting the coolness of it contrast against the heat of his palm against my face. "You don't have to be afraid of yourself when you're with me." I pressed a kiss to his palm and covered it with my own. I took a glance at the digital clock across the room; 3:45 A.M. "You should get some rest now, I have a feeling we're going to need it."

I moved to remove myself from his lap, but his hands held me in place. "Stay with me, just for tonight." His voice was small, "We don't have to do anything, that's not what I mean. Just..." I could see his head drop and watched as he searched for the words. "Just lay here with me?"

I nodded, moving back under the sheet and holding it up for him. He followed my movements, tucking himself under the sheet and letting out a sigh. I allowed my eyes to shut, listening to the sound of the wind outside of the tower and the soft breath of the man beside me. Everything felt still and peaceful, much like the other times I had stayed with him in the past. Nothing ever came of it, we simply found comfort in each others company.

The bed shifted beside me but I didn't need to open my eyes to know that Bucky was looking at me. His voice was soft when he spoke, "Goodnight, Max."

I smiled into the pillows, "Goodnight, Bucky."

_____

I woke up first, face squished against Bucky's arm and our legs tangled together. His left arm was flung over my side and held me firmly against him. His hair was fanned out over his pillow and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm.

I smiled up at his sleeping face, taking in his peaceful expression and letting it brand itself in my head. After a few minutes I decided to take a shower. I untangled myself slowly, careful not to wake him. I set his arm against the sheets and gently tugged my limbs from his. Taking a quick peek over at the nightstand, the clock read 5 A.M. I pulled in a quiet breath before continuing to tug my limbs away from the sleeping soldier.

Bucky didn't stir, only sighed in his sleep once I had finally managed to detangle myself from the bed. I entered his bathroom right off to the left of the bed, much like my own room. I was met with black tiles with grey tones littering the room. The shower was foggy glass, and the counter white marble. The bathroom looked almost spotless save for the razor that laid in a dish on the right side of the sink. The black towels were folded neatly and set to the side of the counter, one hung on the towel rack to dry your hands on. There weren't any personal items other than the razor and it reminded me a lot of how our missions had gone while with Hydra.

As a soldier, we weren't allowed many keepsakes. When we had to find a shelter on a mission, we took only what we could carry and what was needed to complete the mission. Always ready to leave at the drop of the hat. The things that I kept from my childhood or collected over the years I hid in an abandoned Hydra safehouse where no one could find it. I imagined what I had was still there, untouched and forgotten.

Bucky obviously still lived as if he was still a soldier. It was a grim thought, and I shook it away before I could dwell on it for too long. I snagged a towel off the counter and swung it over the shower door. I slid the door open and cranked the dial to the far left, as warm as I could get it, and began to undress.

The water warmed me, chasing away the cold I had learned to tolerate ever since Hydra's experiments. I rarely ever felt warm any more. Showers like this were a moment's reprieve that I wasn't used to. I took a glance at the two bottles and the bar of soap resting on the shelf just above my head. They were the only things in the shower other than a clean washcloth I had grabbed last second before hopping in. I took my time, scrubbing the grime off my skin and rinsing the soap out of my white locks. I couldn't remember how long it had been since my hair had lost its color. Decades, I was sure. I couldn't remember what it felt like to run my fingers through it all the way to the ends of the long dark locks.

The color had drained some time later during my time as a Hydra operative, long after the first experiments had began to take their effect on my body. My roots had begun to grow out the color of snow, and the color that still clung to the ends had drained to an ashy gray. The soldiers used to tug on it, calling me names and using it to drag me back to my cell. I had snagged a shard of glass one night and used it to cut it all off. All that was left were wild and uneven sprouts of white. After that, I had preferred to keep it short.

Shutting off the water, I stepped out of the shower and onto the bathmat. I wiped the water from my skin and wrapped the plush towel around my body. The steam warped the image of myself in the mirror, blurred the edges and concealed my face away from view.

I knew my hair was longer, I hadn't cut it since joining the Avengers in their tower. I could feel the wet strands sticking the the side of my neck and brushing the tops of my shoulders when I moved. I turned away from my reflection, making sure to pull the towel up over my shoulders more like a cape to conceal myself from view. I didn't think I would have stayed the night with Bucky so I hadn't brought any spare clothes for myself. I would have to make a break for the elevator and pray that no one else was up this early.

I went to tug the door open only to be met with a bare chest to the face. Ouch. I backpedalled, eyes wide and a zing of shock tingling through me. "Bucky," I breathed, "What are you doing up this early?"

His blue eyes searched my face, flicking down to the towel I held in a death grip at my shoulders, before back to my eyes again. "I heard the shower running."

I cursed myself, "Sorry, I tried not to wake you."

He nodded, "S'okay. Where are you headed?"

"I was going to head back to my rooms, I didn't plan on staying the night so I didn't bring any spare clothes."

Bucky's brown eyebrows creased together in a frown, "You were going to walk down the hallway in just a towel?"

I blinked up at him for a moment. "No one is going to be up this early and it's a straight shot from here to the elevator. I wasn't that worried."

If it was possible, his frown deepened. "Just take some from my drawers. Steve gets up around this time anyways, wouldn't want you to run into him while runnin' around like that."

I nodded, "Alright, thank you." I padded over to the chest of drawers and pulled out a shirt and some oversized shorts with a drawstring before I retreated back to his bathroom. I slipped the items on and took a quick peek at the mirror to fix my damp hair, tugging out the knots with my fingers and avoiding my eyes. I tossed the towel back over the shower door to dry before I left the room once more.

Bucky was pulling a shirt over his shoulders, giving me a clear view of his muscles working the fabric over his body before they slipped out of view. I shook my head and reached for my book still setting on the nightstand.

He turned to me, shooting me a side smile after taking in my appearance. "Those look much better on you."

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck as I approached him, "I'll make sure to return them after I wash them."

"No worries doll, keep them if you want." The look he gave me warmed me from the inside out.

I eyed him as we both headed out of his bedroom door. "If you keep giving me your clothes you won't have any for yourself."

Bucky shot me a cheeky grin, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't mind it."

I elbowed him as I tried to fight off my own smile, both of us dropping the banter when we noticed someone had joined us in the hallway.

Steve stood there in full uniform, files tucked under his arm and a grim look on his face. I could see the fire that lit behind his eyes at the sight of Bucky and I and was quick to divert my eyes.

I felt... uncomfortable with his anger always hovering near. I didn't like being the cause of such a heavy tension between them. They were best friends for heavens sake, and I just had to waltz in and shove a knife to it. And I didn't even know why. I shook my head, looking back towards him as he took a breath to speak.

"Tony called a meeting. Meet down in the commons room in ten." With that, Steve left us briskly and without another word.

I could practically feel the tension and anger rolling off of Bucky but I decided not to comment on it. He needed his space and I was sure the two would sort it out eventually. You don't just stay friends with someone for a hundred years just to stop because of some measly girl drama. "Let's get around then, hm?"

Bucky glanced down at me and nodded, a light frown still etched into his beautiful features. "Lead the way, doll."

God he's going to be the death of me.

Tags<3

@blackbirdwitch22 / @imdoingathingmom / @cjand10

[shinynewboots]

Staring at the Sun / Adam x Lute Chapter 10

Summary: After the battle, Lute attempts to flee with Adam. They find themselves unable to return to Heaven and must adjust to life in Hell.

AN: A very short chapter and I am so sorry for the lack of Adam or Lute! This was more of establishing the direction the story was taking while also allowing me to include some world-building elements.

If there is some confusion, I promise I will clear everything up in the next chapter and it should hopefully make a lot more sense! And we will get Adam and Lute in focus once more (not together unfortunately but we are working on it lol). I also did take some liberties with the sins we have not yet been introduced to in the show so if they don't match up completely with their show counterparts in the future...oops lol

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, smut eventually, Adam-typical misogyny, alcohol use, slight sexual themes, religious imagery, swearing

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Lucifer felt as though a hand had descended from Heaven and wrapped around his heart, squeezing so that even breathing was difficult. 

He looked around in horror at the sight before him. The explosion had left the Pride ring fragmented, like cracks of a shattered mirror. Buildings around collapsed like dominoes once the unsteady ground opened up beneath them. The screams he heard were so different from the everyday noise; these were the screams of anguish, of mass casualty, of undiscriminating pain and death. The explosion was fueled completely by angelic energy and dealt a final blow to the sinners who had been unfortunate enough to be in the path of the blast.

“Dad, what was that?” Charlie called over from Razzle, her voice cracking and her eyes filled with tears. Soot and dust covered her and Lute’s faces. Charlie’s expression was full of anguish; Lute’s face was full of nothing. She could only stare at the spot where Adam and the Embassy once stood. 

Lucifer breathed in deep. He could feel Hell call to him, its ancient power pulling at him in a way that he hadn’t felt in at least ten millennia. He looked over at Charlie and desperately wished to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be alright. But Hell kept pulling, and tugging, and gnawing at him, begging for just a fraction of attention. 

“Charlie, take Razzle back to the Hotel and the three of you get inside. Make sure everyone is inside.” His voice was stone.

“Dad, no, we have to do something!” She screamed, her eyes looking between him and the chaos in the streets.

“Charlie, don’t argue with me. Go to the hotel and stay inside. I’ll join you when I can and explain everything.” His voice bit at her like a snake waiting to strike. Her eyes filled with fire, and he knew she wanted to argue. She was so headstrong, so much like Lilith. 

“But Dad—!”

“Razzle, go!” Lucifer commanded. The dragon let out a roar that echoed off the collapsing buildings., and began to fly back toward the hotel. Charlie screamed and pleaded but she was soon too far away to hear. 

Lucifer let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the pull of Hell to finally take him. 

When he opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of the council chambers he had not visited in centuries. The chamber itself was dark with a cold, unwelcome air that could chill one to the bone. Columns lined the chamber, the gaps between them showing the red hue and the endless expanse of the void in which it existed.

The chamber existed in a place between: a mixture of the planes of Hell and its rings colliding in space. Lucifer had created it with the help of Lilith in the early days. Contrary to expectation, Hell was a living and breathing being. Hell had existed long before Lucifer had been cast from the Heavens and it would continue to exist long after he was gone. It was the negative energy and space that brought balance to the kingdom of Heaven and allowed all of creation to exist in harmony. Lucifer had not created Hell, as Hell simply was. He had simply had a part in taming it and molding the delicate ecosystem it existed in today.

Hell would cue him into its needs. Regrettably, Lucifer had not been great at picking up on such needs as of late. 

Lucifer looked down and saw that his suit had been changed into the standard wardrobe of the council chamber: a black robe with red lining. 

On the far wall of the chamber, Lucifer made eye contact with a large hourglass that came up to his eye level. The grains of sand slowly began to pour through into the bottom: time was running out.

He felt his mouth run dry. Sweat broke out on his forehead despite the chill of the chamber. 

It was time to call the meeting to order.

Lucifer snapped his finger and one-by-one the Sins began to appear in the room, all dressed in the same black robes he wore. 

“Lucifer what the fuck is going on?” 

“Who was cast out?”

“Not a fan of the new skylight that's been installed in Wrath, Luci.”

The Sins began to speak over each other, their voices drowning out the other. Lucifer could already feel his blood pressure begin to rise. All seven of the Sins were accounted for (even Belphegor, who could sometimes take a while to get anywhere). 

“ONE AT A TIME!” Lucifer exclaimed. “Please.” For good measure.

“Luci, what the fuck is going on?” Beelzebub asked, her mane and tail adding a strange glow to the already strange room. “This is the first time I fucking see you in like a fucking decade and it's only because someone got cast out?”

Lucifer cringed, heat rising to his face. So maybe he wasn't the best at keeping in touch with people. Lilith had always been better at reaching out and planning gatherings. Surely it hadn't been a decade though, right? Though, it had been seven years since Lilith left so maybe Bee wasn’t exaggerating. 

“I've been busy.” He said sheepishly, trying to look anywhere besides the eyes of his comrades.

“And does “being busy” look like spending all your time with something yellow and rubbery?” Asmodeus asked, all three of his heads cocking an eyebrow. 

“Dude, are you still into the rubber ducks?” Leviathan asked in disgust, his gills shuddering. 

“This is not about the rubber ducks! Rubber ducks that may or may not be real!”

“They're real,” Asmodeus said, his tone whispered, but his volume was normal. Mammon snickered before realizing he was laughing at a joke Ozzie had made and promptly glared at the Lust sin.

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?’ Lucifer said, pinching the bridge of his nose. It had been decades since he had last been in a room with all of the other rulers of Hell together, and longer still since he had called a meeting to order. He was suddenly reminded of why it had been so long since he had met with everyone: they gave him a fucking headache (and they would ask uncomfortable questions about his marriage that he was not yet ready to answer). 

“Who was cast out, Luci?” Bee asked again, her tone even as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Adam.” Bee’s eyes widened. Even Belphegor had perked up at the news. Asmodeus gave Lucifer a curious look as if he had already suspected the answer. Asmodeus had been sure to lay into Lucifer when he stopped by the Mansion after visiting Charlie (‘Your daughter misses you’, ‘You’re surrounding yourself with rubber ducks to overcompensate for your lack of interaction’, ‘You’ve become lax in your duties as the King of Hell’). 

He was a little ashamed to admit he spent the rest of the night with a bottle in his hand once Asmodeus had left his mansion that evening. 

“I didn't think a human soul could be cast out,” Bee replied.

“That's gotta be a fucking powerful human soul, mate. He tore right through Lulu Land. I'll be expecting payment for damages, by the way.” Mammon said, his bared teeth gleaming in the candlelight.

“Oh give it a rest Mammon, as if you were the only one who's going to have to rebuild. That park was tacky anyway.” Leviathan scowled, crossing his arms.

“He tore right through one of my hospitals too,” Belphegor yawned, her expression bored and impassive.

“He fucking tore through all of our rings you idiots,” Satan said, fire alight in his eyes, the lava burning through his veins glowing exceptionally hot. “I hope it fucking killed him, there's no way a human soul could survive an impact like that.”

“Human soul or not, he’s enacted the Trials,” Lucifer said as he motioned to the hourglass on the far side of the chamber. All eyes turned towards the hourglass and could only look upon it in horror. 

“You mean to fucking tell me that the stability of the Rings is in the hands of a fucking human soul?” Satan scoffed. 

“He’s a little more powerful than a normal human soul,” Lucifer offered, a nervous smile on his face. All eyes turned back to him, wary and full of disbelief. 

“A human soul nonetheless,” Leviathan replied. 

“Luci, you’re the only one who actually completed all of the Trials, mate. I mean, do you think the fucker can actually make it?”

“I, uh—It doesn’t matter what I think, he’s our only shot at keeping the rings stable.” This did nothing to alleviate the obvious worry on the faces of the Sins but there was nothing more Lucifer could do. Adam had acted as nothing more than a catalyst for the most recent feud between Heaven and Hell. The rings had already been torn through and he was the only one capable of fixing the damage he had caused (directly or indirectly, it mattered not. The result was the same). 

“If you fucking say so, Luci.” Satan grumbled and crossed his arms. 

“I take it you’ll be greeting him in Limbo before he heads to Sloth?” Belphegor asked Lucifer, her eyes drooped and a yawning escaping her lips. 

Lucifer nodded. 

“Then I suggest we all go back and try and control the chaos in our rings as best we can. I have preparations that must be made before he is to come to Sloth.” Belphegor continued. She nodded to all of the Sins and created a portal that led back to Sloth. She stepped through and left the chamber. 

One by one the other Sins created portals to return home in order back to put out the fires that had been left in their Rings. Only Lucifer and Asmodeus remained.

Asmodeus gave Lucifer a hard stare before pulling him into a firm hug. “Don’t let your pride get in your way, Luci. Of course, we’ve all got our vices, but you’ve got a history.”

Lucifer returned the hug and smiled tiredly. “Thanks, Oz. Uh, tell Fettuccine I said hello.”

Asmodeus gave Lucifer an exasperated look. “Fizzarolli.”

“That’s what I said.” 

Asmodeus rolled his eyes and created a portal that transported him back to Lust. 

Lucifer was left alone in the chamber once again. He could feel Hell pulling him, clawing once more toward the direction of Limbo. And so Lucifer listened to Hell for the first time in more years than he could count and created a portal to transport him to Limbo. 

[st0rmyspirit]

i'm begging you - steve harrington

pairing: gn!reader x steve harrington

content: hurt/comfort, steve has a nightmare & reader comforts him

author's note: haven't written in quite some time so this is rusty! steve harrington has major ptsd that is so overlooked so heres my contribution to the fanon hurt/comfort for stevie. also pls don't repost <3

"hey hey shh shh its okay, you aren't going to lose me baby. never." your soft-spoken words of comfort were certain and reassuring.

your doe-eyed boy lay in your lap, a tussel of sheets and blankets wrapped around your bodies. your fingers ran through his hair, a repetitive, comforting gesture of affection. he laid face down, arms wrapped around your waist haphazardly, shaky hands and clammy fingers clutching at the shirt you wore.

"i can't lose you y/n... please.." he exhaled a strangled breath "don't leave me..please don't leave me, i'm begging you"

he barely lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours from below. brown eyes filled with so much hurt and fear. his anxiety radiated through you, he was in so much pain, absolutely petrified from what he'd dreamt.

your own words caught in your throat.

through his gaze, you could feel a small fraction of his emotions. pleading teary eyes, unhidden terror, it would be enough to make your knees buckle if you hadn't already been sitting.

you clutched around his back, a messy attempt at pulling him closer to you. he mirrored your actions, tightening his grip around your waist, moving up slightly to sob into your chest.

leaning against the headboard, you clutched at his skin under his shirt and his hair tucked beneath your chin. you clung to one another as though you were eachother's lifelines. in steve's ptsd ridden headspace, you're sure he must've truly believed you were his.

you rocked until your knees ached, fingers cramped against his skin, and his sobs settled into shaky breaths.

"stevie.. my baby?" you kissed the crown of his head when he hummed in response. "i need you to look at me honey. can you do that?"

he struggled to lift his head from your chest, reasonably exhausted due to the time displayed on the analog clock and strength of his sobs.

your eyes met.

his slightly puffy, red, and swollen. they seemed heavy, full of unease and exhaustion.

you tucked a strand of bed crazed hair behind his ear, caressing his face where it rested on your shoulder.

"i will never leave you. never." he looked unsure.

"i will not let anything happen to you and i know you wouldn't let anything happen to me." he nodded at that statement.

you looked at him tenderly, his pain having sunk into your chest the minute he threw himself onto you that night. your book tossed out of your hands and reading glasses skewed. all you could care about was the boy in your lap.

"stevie?"

a hum in response.

"can i kiss you?"

another hum.

"verbal, please."

"yes"

it was faintly spoken, very soft, even for steve, but it was good enough. hand still caressing his cheek, you lowered your face to his. a soft yet unwavering kiss pressed to his lips. you hoped it would convey what you intended. there was no lust behind it, no expectations or judgement. just overwhelming an unconditional love for your boy.

he snuggled further into your chest when you pulled away, a faint yet satisfied smile on his face.

"stevie?"

"hm?"

"you know where we are?"

"bedroom."

"yes, who's house?"

"mine."

"good boy"

"do you want to talk about your nightmare?"

hesitation.

"..no. not right now at least.."

"alright."

it wasn't surprising since it happened so recently.

"would you like me to read to you or give you some water?"

"..water would be nice.."

you reached over to the nightstand, picking up your metal waterbottle and flipping up the straw. you tapped it on his lips.

"here baby"

you tipped it back a little once he put his lips around it, helping him get a drink so he wouldn't have to move. he leaned away, allowing you to set the bottle back on the nightstand.

"would you like me to read to you or would you like to go to sleep?"

"sleep please"

"of course pretty boy."

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Whumpril day 3

(Rope/Knife to the throat/”hold still”) Content warning: kidnapping, threats of torture Whumper didn’t flinch as the blindfold was roughly pulled from their head. It only took a moment for them to reorient themselves. They were in a basement somewhere, arms and torso tied to a chair. There was little of note short of the smell of bleach, the table of tools sitting conveniently near them, and their favorite toy standing over them, scowling.

“I was wondering who’d bother ambushing me,” Whumper commented, grinning. “Did you miss me so much that you just had to have me for yourself?”

Whumpee, per usual, wasn’t in good humor. “Shut the hell up.”

Whumper ignored them. “Because I can understand that! Sometimes someone looks like so much fun that you just have to take them home. You were a cutie like that, all terrified and pleading and begging for someone to ruin you,” Whumpee’s glare hardened. “Now look at you, all grown–”

Whumper gasped as their hair was roughly pulled back. They felt a blade press against their neck, just short of drawing blood.

“Shut the hell up.” Whumpee growled, digging blade slightly deeper into Whumper’s skin. “You thought you could get away with what you did to me? You thought I’d just lay down and die? I’m going to make you regret all of it.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Whumper squirmed against Whumpee’s hold, watching as Whumpee pulled back before the blade could cut them. “But honestly, do you think you can? Here I am, all helpless and at your mercy. Do you have it in you to hurt someone defenseless, even if they deserve it?”

Whumpee glared down at them, face tight. Whumper could feel them shaking, feel the grip on their hair tighten in anxiety. This was going to be fun.

“Do it, I want you to. Try to be me. Try to do a fraction of what I did to you, if you’ve got it in you,” Whumper purred. “Try to ruin me like I ruined you.”

Whumpee clutched the blade tighter, their knuckles turning white. They didn’t move.

Whumper laughed. 

[misscammiedawn]

"3... 2... 1... and back."

Madison kissed the top of her sweetling's head as she stirred. It had been a fun thirty minutes of being fractionated into a puddle. Bella couldn't tell which way was up anymore. Her hair cascaded all over the place. She lazily swatted at stray strands to try and regain her dignity.

"Thank you Miss..." Bella purred.

"My pleasure, sweetling." Madison sighed, moved by how gentle her partner was being. "Do you need anything, love? I can count you up if you want?"

"Nu-uh..! I just wanna hug!" Bella swooned, swaying on the spot before throwing her arms around her partner and clinging on to her "I like this a lot... like... a lot, a lot. Many much."

Madison's hand stroked the loose hair into submission as she had stroked Bella's mind the same way moments ago.

"Is there anything else you wanted to do today, sweetling?" Madison asked.

Bella's eyes flickered to the side and then down again, her lips pursed in deep thought. If she were not buried in Madison's arms, perhaps Madison would have detected the shift in expression.

Madison was adept at reading her partner's facial expressions. She was expressive to a fault as it was, but there was something about the way she looked when distracted by her own thoughts that made energy shifts and collusion seem fairly obvious.

"I want a kiss!" Bella finally chirped in a voice that hinted an air of mischief. Bella would never be able to win a Poker game. Especially not to her Miss Madison.

Madison smiled fondly and pulled out of the hug. She was she about to deny her sweetling a kiss.

As the pair moved in and their lips met the softness of Bella's chaste and sweet kiss melted in a fire of increasing passion. Belladonna rose up to pin Madison to the bed and bury her in hungry kisses that emitted a surprised muffled murmur from Madison as gravity took her down.

As she raised her head, Madison could see clearly that the gentle submissive features of her sweet Bella had given way to the firm and dominant expression of Miss Donna, boldly boasting a confident smirk from having caught Madison off-guard for a change.

"Oh! Hello there. You're sure in a mood today!" Madison merrily observed.

"That I am, my love. Is that okay with you today?"

"Mhmm!" Madison chirped, bouncing, "I like it when you're in a mood!"

"Good. Because I've decided. I'm going to make you kneel for me today." her words were firm and direct. This was not a plan, it was a prophecy.

"Oh really?" Madison responded, eyebrows raised and a playful grin upon her face. "That's fair bold of you, Miss Donna. What if I don't feel like kneeling?"

Miss Donna placed a thoughtful finger to her chin for a moment, "Then I won't do it until you ask me." she said simply.

"Oh?" Madison poked, giddily, "You're planning something, aren't you?"

"Maybe..." Donna deviously responded, "But I can tell you that you will not be hypnotically compelled to plead. If and when you beg, it'll be because it's the only thing you can think to do to get me to let you sink to your knees."

"Let me?!" Madison responded with mock incredulity, "You're in a boastful mood today."

"You love it." Donna responded plainly.

"Yes Miss Donna." Madison finally chirped, eager to engage with this delightful energy that had built between the pair.

With a grin Donna raised a hand and snapped in the air. Madison blinked, startled, "That's it. Eyes on me. Give me your attention. Give me your mind. Find yourself falling for me, falling right into my deep blue eyes, falling into the power of my hypnotic words, falling for your love, you know you can't resist your love, lass."

Madison's shoulders drooped as the torrent of words crashed over her conditioned mind. "Know I can't resist..." she repeated, as she had done so many times before.

"That's right, lass. Good girl." Madison sighed pleasantly at that affirmation, "Very good girl. Just drift and float and find yourself succumbing to me, more and more with each and every moment, as is so easy, as is so natural..."

Madison's featured slackened, her eyes rolled back in that adorable way that they do. She was dropping rapidly.

"Freeze!" Donna suddenly commanded whipping her hands in a dramatic gesture. The word and motion struck Madison and her shoulders reared back and eyes widened as her features petrified as surely as if Donna had cast the magic spell she had pantomimed.

"That's right... still. Frozen. Caught by my words. Caught by my gaze. Locked and bound by my will..." Donna husked, drawing in closer. With her index and middle fingers extended she thrust her hand forward. Madison felt herself pulled upwards, her spine straightening as if plucked by the top of her head and stretched as far as gravity would allow. Her eyes wide and focused on her partner.

"A puppet on my strings, pulled and compelled by my whims and my directions. I said I was going to draw you to your knees..." Donna took a fist of hair and exposed her partner's neck, planting a hungry kiss upon it and savoring the blissful whimper that emitted directly in her ear. "I'll drain you of all will, all power. Every kiss, every carress, every moment making your knees weak, literally and figuratively, you'll barely be able to stand; but you know you must--- until I release you, you will remain standing for me, my dear... and you will not only sink to your knees, but I will make you beg for me to let you."

"Yellow" Madison whispered, breathlessly.

Donna placed a hand to her cheek and softly held her gaze, "What's wrong, beloved? We can shuffle if you need to."

"Can't stay frozen like this... I'll lose my balance... I'll fall." Madison's words betrayed distance from her waking mind; but she was well practiced in ensuring she took care of her needs and moderated the safety of any session. It was one of many reasons Donna felt safe going all out with her.

"Then feel yourself being piloted, no matter how weak your knees get; and oh how weak they will become my precious plaything, your body will always ensure you are carrying your weight, shifting when appropriate and remaining as still as is comfortable for you."

Madison's features melted as the concerns were addressed and she could focus on the scene again, as much as her increasingly controlled mind could focus on anything that wasn't Miss Donna's words.

"Very good girl. You obey perfectly. You're so very good for checking in. For adjusting to better serve, to better follow, to better obey. That's exactly what you're supposed to do. Good girl." with those glowing affirmations Miss Donna pulled in again and kissed her partner's unresisting lips with the same fire she had used when she had sprung forth for the scene. Her fingers tightening into a fist in her hair and giving a controlled tug to savor another gasp of enjoyment. Lips buried onto earlobe and stamped gently with teeth.

"Submit. Succumb. You're mine." she husked into the ear, lips still brushing skin. "DON'T fight me." her voice cracked like a whip, dark and seductive, "You know how this ends. With you on your knees."

Madison whimpered and quivered in Donna's grasp.

"More and more with every moment. Resistance weakening, knees weakening. Pride turning to face me. Knowing that with every passing moment the pride of fighting my power, the joy of teasing this delightful fight, the strength you try to show. All of it turns to serve me. Your strength is my power and my power controls you. The stronger you are, the harder you submit, the more you will trust yourself to yield. To slide to your knees. To GIVE IN to me."

"Give... in..." Madison whispered to the air, her voice barely audible.

Donna slowly backed off, releasing the hair and watching her sweet lass' expression, "But you can't give in yet. You know that you can't sink to your knees without my permission... and I want you to beg."

Madison's lips parted, eyes flickering. Donna did not share Madison's gift for reading facial expressions, but she knew that she was having severe impact; but Madison was not going to surrender right away.

"Good girl... already turning that strength of yours to better serve your submission. Knowing you've done such a good job fighting and resisting and that you're so so very close to the sweet release and reward of surrender."

Madison whimpered softly, swaying on the spot.

"Do you want to kneel for me, lass?"

A brief pause as further struggle melted from her expression and finally evaporated in a soft and sweetly spoken "Yes Miss...".

With a sharp swift step forward Donna grasped her partner by the chin and locked eyes with her.

"I doubt there's anything but eager compliance in you now, lass and when you've given in, you can just feel pleading words spilling from your lips. Not being able to do anything to stop your heart giving in to its desire. Knowing that this compulsion is only from you and you alone."

The command hit her directly and words poured desperately, "Please, Miss Donna; Please. Oh please, please make me kneel, please make me submit, please let me, please Miss, please."

Donna smirked powerfully, drinking in each and every word before finally and firmly commanding "KNEEL.".

Madison all but leaped to the ground, knees collapsing to the ground and spine straightening to look directly at her Miss who plucked a hand and planted a kiss upon it.

"That's my good girl. Very good. You pleased me."

Donna raised a hand and offered it, "Surrender to me with the kiss of allegiance and then, you'll be mine."

Madison's lips parted, her glassy eyes starred straight up at her Miss' eyes and then to the hand. There was no hesitation. No more resistance. She surrendered eagerly and willingly with that soft and gentle kiss.

[veryflirtytransportalate]

<Previous> . . . <Next>

"Hmm… I think I know a fellow performer when I see one. Good with your words? Know just the right thing to say at the right time?" - Magnolia

I recently went back to Good Neighbor for the first time in ages because I remembered that failing that Bobbi heist is the key to companionizing Hancock (I'm "collecting" all of the companions, like one collects action figures of a set). Plus McGravy will sell me his soul for literally less cash than a crate of fresh water, so, that's two down. McGravy went to live with Strong Mad at a Red Rocket upstate. He's very happy with lots of room to mope.

While I was there, the people of Good Neighbor begged, pleaded, dropped down on their knees and wept, "Oh great and mighty Sizz'el, won't you pose for a few tasteful photos on our woefully inadequate stage?" (I was really impressed Bethesda went to all that effort to program that, to be honest with you, but the game crashed twice during this photoshoot, so... not too impressed.) So, I put on my hottest shit, hit the stage, and the place... basically stayed the same. Which is exactly what they do when Magnolia is performing, so, rousing success, I guess. Magnolia seemed jealous of my undeniable slam dunk, but then she realized that I was down to clown and decided that was a fair consolation prize. The people in this wasteland are funkin' off, I swear.

(Outfit credits, my thoughts, and a few more shots below the cut.)

<Previous> . . . <Next>

The outfit is TheKite's Handmaiden Set (opens in new tab): TheKite makes a lot of... Uh, outfits, so, viewer discretion is advised. But gosh do I love the Handmaiden Set, absolutely fantastic work.

I am very unsure where I want to go next with this character: as my little status tracker thing lets you know, I'm basically coming up to the edge of available content that can be explored without locking myself out of content from the other factions in the game. In a more traditional RPG, I think we'd be moving from Act 2 to Act 3*.

I think up next for me is the Railroad. The game is gonna force me to meet them if I go and talk to Virgil in his Plato's Cave anyway, so, might as well. I don't think the Railroad are interesting, or cool, or fun, or engaging, but like... just like in real life, in a simulacrum of a world, if you show me the militarized anti-slavery faction that exists to oppose forced labor in all facets... I'm gonna help them to the best of my abilities. Which always makes me feel pigeon-holed by the game when it comes to picking an ending. Like, it really is between the Minutemen and the Railroad, because the Brotherhood are techno-facists who've lost all interesting nuance as the series has developed, turning into essentially The Avengers, and the Institute is just stupid. The Institute doesn't approach even a fraction of the genuine and well-considered faction building of the early titles. You're telling me none of the people in this building have thought to just... re-purify the local ecology? Fallout 3 had the plot of a child's first superhero comic book but even that game recognized that a wasteland's first major concern would be ecological recultivation! And centered it's conflict around that concern! Fallout 4 is a power struggle over a resource-depleted ghost town, and "the boogieman" is just a bunch of nerds replacing people with Bladerunner androids with literally zero objective except to see what happens. Even if you side with the fuckers there's no secret folder labeled "THE BIG PLAN" that gets slid in front of you. They have no plan. They have no goal. They were written to be "the boogieman" first, and then they wimped out and tried to make them human and understandable and it falls flat in every way.

New Vegas showed us a version of this world that was already sanded down to the bare-essentials, where the Followers of the Apocalypse are just a friendly lil' bunch o' pals, and the factions of the Strip are just three bands of progressively more evil weirdos led by robo-Walt Disney, but if New Vegas is sanded down, Fallout 4 has been left overnight in a rock tumbler.

<Previous> . . . <Next>

*If I had to four act structure the game it would be: Act 1 is setting up all the players, Act 2 is asking us to side with one of them, Act 3 is the big lame twist about Shauwn that stretches the plot out a little further and provides one last "a-ha!" double cross chance, and Act 4 is Explosions & GET TO THE CHOPPAH & Heroic Music.