#whump party

[whumblr]

Hey, could you write a promot from whumper hosting a party? (Multi whumpers and whumpees?)

Dearest fellow enthusiasts,

I hereby invite you to another one of my parties. As always, this one comes with a theme.

Please make sure your Plus One has not eaten for at least a week and has gone without water for at least one day.

I will, of course, ensure that the guests will want for nothing. There will be a large buffet, with various themed foods. The delightful smells alone will have your Plus Ones truly desperate.

Your Plus Ones can either earn their food or beg for it, whichever you prefer. They have the option - with your granted permission of course - to participate in various games and events. Or you could just have them watch on, belly grumbling, and send them off to bed after the festivities have ended with their stomach still empty.

These events double as the entertainment for the evening. I do not wish to spoil all, but we will, for example, have a Russian roulette themed event with shot glasses and mystery food. There will be a consolation price for the first one to pass out from hunger or thirst. Most desperate begging can also earn a price.

I employ an excellent cook who will be ready all evening to fulfill any special requests for your Plus One. Let me assure you that no request for ingredients is too outlandish, whether it be extra spices or added glass chips. Or both.

My only request in return is to not feed any scraps or requested food items to a Plus One without their owner's permission.

Do RSVP and pass on any allergies or food preferences. For your Plus One as well. Let's see if they are willing to eat food that will blow up their tongue (Epi pens and other antidotes are available at request).

I look forward to seeing you all.

[redd956]

Mini Whump Prompt 23

Caretaker and Whumpee are out partying and see Whumper at the party. Caretaker convinces Whumpee to leave it alone, and focus on having fun. But now as the party members are slowly fizzling they discover Whumper a little bit more than drunk.

[5ummit]

"Pain... must be something you enjoy"

[bedtimescenarios]

Whumper didn't even try to hide the bruises.

As they lead Whumpee to the mirror, they finally gaze upon their reflection. Dressed in a silk gown, topped off with the finest jewlery, they look beautiful. Elegant. Broken.

They didn't bother to cover any of the bruises. Nor the cuts, nor the scars, for that matter. Every delicate fabric fold cascading down their body stands in contrast with their battered body. Green on red. Grace on pain.

This party will be bustling with people just as sick as Whumper, and Whumpee knows it. They won't help them. There's no escape, that is becoming clearer day by day.

Whumper tucks a lock of stray hair behind Whumpee's ear, and it feels odd for the hands that have caused so much pain to carress them so gently. Perhaps that's why they flinch. Tilting their head at Whumpee's reflection, Whumper simply smiles.

yes, i'm baaack🫢

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 

Not of his own free will, anyway. 

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 

"Hey, language!" 

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 

His best friend was going to fucking freak. 

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!” 

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 

He came up empty. 

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 

He got a flat stare back. "No." 

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 

Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 

 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 

How silent his normally loud house would be. 

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 

 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  

 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear. 

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 

"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 

"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 

Bonus: 

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 

"That was different. I was discovering myself." 

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 

"I hate you." 

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 

[questionableratatouille00]

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐’𝘥 𝘋𝘰 (𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘠𝘰𝘶)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky explore ways to practice non-sexual intimacy.

Warnings: Non-sexual nudity, implied past SA, bad therapist Dr. Raynor, showering together, implied panic attack, let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

Help! I haven’t read the first part!

“You struggle with intimacy.” Dr. Raynor’s unmistakable voice rang through his head.

He glared at her, his brows furrowed. “What?” His voice was slightly hoarse, so the word came out all croaky.

“You struggle with intimacy.” She repeated. “It’s common in victims of sexual abuse and assault. And you’ve got over fifty years of that.”

Bucky grimaced at her blunt choice of words. “So..what?”

“So, we’ve got a lot to work on. You’ve got any relationships? Friends, partners?” Dr. Raynor asked. “What about the girl you’ve mentioned?”

“I have friends.” He grumbled.

“Good. What about your relationship with your girlfriend? Are you two intimate?”

He clenched his fists. “That doesn’t sound like a professional question. Do you ask all your clients about their sex lives?”

“Just answer the question, Mr. Barnes. Are you intimate with your girlfriend?”

“No.” The word rotted in his mouth. He felt an overwhelming sense of shame as he was positive that Raynor was disappointed for some reason.

She scribbled something down in her notebook and Bucky felt like he was going to throw up.

“Try and build up trust and intimacy through non-sexual means.” She suggested.

When he raised a brow, she continued. “Cuddling together. Sleeping next to each other. Take baths or showers together. Be naked around each other. Work up to that one slowly.”

He didn’t think it would help his weird sex problems.

“Ask for what you need. The world won’t end.”

Bucky just shook his head bitterly, looking away as he clenched his metal fist tighter.

“…Hey.” You whispered as you looked at him. He felt a smile creep onto his face.

“Hey.” He echoed.

“You’re watching me while I sleep, now?” You chuckled.

“Maybe.” He gently played with a strand of your hair.

“You alright?” Your voice was warm, sleepy. He felt a warmth bloom within his chest.

“Mhm.” He answered after a moment. “Y/n?” He asked gently after your eyes fluttered back shut.

“Hm?” You didn’t open your eyes.

“Can..can we cuddle?” He asked. To his surprise, the world didn’t end.

“What?” You blinked your eyes open. He felt a pit of shame form in his stomach.

“Never mind. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” He shook his head.

“No, no. What did you say?” You smiled encouragingly.

“…I asked if we could cuddle.” He muttered. He asked for what he needed. And the world didn’t end.

“Sure, hon. You want me to hold you? Or..” You offered.

He nodded. “I want you to hold me. Please.”

You lifted your arm, and he awkwardly shuffled over towards you, not quite sure what to do. “What..where do I—“

You chuckled a little, shifting slightly to lay on your back. “Just lay your head on my chest, if you’re comfortable.”

He nodded, doing so. He could hear your heartbeat. His right hand drifted to your stomach to gently play with the fabric of your shirt.

“This all right?” You asked gently as you rubbed circles into his back.

He nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.” He said earnestly.

“Anytime. Always.”

“Hey, honey?” He asked suddenly as he dried the last plate.

“Hm?” You turned off the sink and turned to look at him.

C’mon. Don’t back at now, he told himself. “Do you..do you want to take a shower together?”

He watched as your eyebrows raised. But the world didn’t end.

“Yeah. We can do that. You sure you want to? There’s never any rush.” You assured him. He knew you meant well, but he felt like you were treating him like he was glass.

“I’m sure, honey.” He exhaled. “I’m..not glass. You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was.”

“It’s okay. I’m—I’m not mad. I just wanted you to know that you don’t need to treat me differently.”

“Alright. No differences. Scout’s Honor.” You did the Girl Scout sign with your hand.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Let’s go shower.” You suggested, and he nodded as he followed you to the bathroom.

He watched as you turned on the shower, waiting for it to warm up as he grabbed two towels.

He watched as you pulled off your shirt. You were absolutely gorgeous, and he couldn’t help but stare.

You chuckled a little as you caught him, and he smirked slightly. He pulled off his own shirt, and that’s when things felt a little off. Not inherently bad, but…wrong.

He tried to push away the feeling as you stripped down to your underwear.

He fiddled with the button and zipper of his jeans. He barely noticed as his breathing began to become more intense.

“Buck?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts.

“What?” His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

“You’re breathing all weird. You okay?”

“I..I can’t.” He shook his head, before rubbing at his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay. No worries. Today’s not the day; no rush.”

He frowned deeply. “I’m sorry.” And he felt sorry. He felt like shit.

You reached for his hand. He let you take it.

“Don’t be sorry.” You rubbed his knuckles with your thumb.

He gave you a small, weak smile. “Okay.” He failed. It didn’t work out. He had to be at least somewhat broken.

But the world didn’t end then, either.

“I want to try again.” He told you a few weeks later.

“Try..what?” You raised a brow.

“Showering together.” He stated.

“Okay. Now?”

He nodded. “Now.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.” You agreed, and you both walked to the bathroom together.

This time, he pulled off his shirt and sweatpants with ease, standing there in his black boxers.

You pulled off all your clothes, checking the water to make sure it was warm.

Slowly, but surely, he slid his boxers down his legs and stepped out of them. He stood before you, completely naked, but he knew that you didn’t have a single thought of judgment in your mind.

“You wanna get in first?” You offered. He shook his head. Logically, he knew it didn’t really matter who got in first. But he figured that maybe a sense of being sure he was able to leave would help him if he needed it.

He watched as you stepped into the shower.

And then he did. And the world hadn’t ended.

He smiled at you as he stood so close to you. Close, but not touching. And it was perfect.

“We did it.” He grinned.

“We did.” You grinned up at him lovingly.

He’d done it. Even if it was only a step in a long process, he’d done it.

And the world didn’t end.

A/n: wanted to post this.

[whumpshaped]

concept: whumpee with a shock collar, except whumper uses it to program them into being affectionate and touchy and “sweet” until whumpee is terrified at a lack of physical touch and clings to whumper like they’ll die the second they let go. <3

and maybe if/when they get out of there, they’re shaking the whole time because whumper isn’t there to touch them!! and whumpee can’t ask caretaker to do it in their stead because good pets don’t ask for things. good pets sit there and take it. as they deserve.

- 🎉

tw conditioning, shock collar, electrocution, captivity, pet whump, intimate whumper, muzzled, dehumanisation

“Come on, sweet. I’m not asking for a lot here.”

Whumpee glared up at their captor, the muzzle making it impossible to cuss them out. They weren’t going to lay their head in that demon’s lap. No fucking chance.

“Nothing bad would happen to you,” they went on. “I would pet your hair, maybe, because I don’t think I can stand not to. But other than that? Nothing at all.”

Whumpee braced themself for the shock. They could withstand it. They had, for at least five times now. It wasn’t that bad.

“Okay, just one more thing, and then I’ll shut up and just shock you some more.” Whumper raised the remote, showing Whumpee the buttons. “You know there are multiple levels to this, right? And that you’re on level one right now?”

Okay. That… that didn’t cross their mind. Whumper must’ve seen their surprise, because they gave them a few more moments to consider their choice. When they didn’t comply, they sighed and turned it up a notch.

“Suit yourself.”

-

Whumpee had been glued to Caretaker’s side ever since the rescue. They were a shivery, trembling mess, babbling incoherently about how they needed Master, how they couldn’t go to prison, because they needed them, needed to be there in their lap, and at their feet, and in their bed, and under their desk. Wherever. It didn’t matter, so long as they got to touch them.

Caretaker let them babble, gently petting their hair whenever they broke down crying. It wasn’t the same. Caretaker didn’t have the remote. The collar wasn’t even around their neck anymore, not really, but they could feel it, the memory of the prongs digging into their skin and promising pain beyond comprehension.

They didn’t let Caretaker go anywhere without them. They were the clingiest pet, just as they’d been taught, and progress was very slow with all the panic attacks they’d been having whenever Caretaker tried to push them a little.

There was no collar to train them. No Master to tell them what was right and wrong. Only the maddening uncertainty of ‘I don’t know, Whumpee, I really think we should try again’.

They rubbed their bare neck, watching helplessly as Caretaker took a few steps away from their bed. They were cautious and slow, constantly murmuring praise as they went. They didn’t get to the door before Whumpee jumped out of bed and ran after them, collapsing at their feet in a sobbing, apologetic heap.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 5

Summary: Reader gets ready with her girls for a stark party.

TW: mentions / discussion of overstimulation, mentions of parties (ew)

Words: 2.4K

A/n Sorry for the late update, I started writing this at 2am on two hours of sleep and then my grandma ended up in the hospital and I had to drive eight hours to see her. Oh… and uni went back so I have like ten assignments.

You had been sleeping for about an hour and a half before beginning to stir. You shifted in your sleep a few times indicating you were close to waking up.

Wanda had been reading because you were still curled around her leg like a baby sloth and despite having no issue with being your personal pillow, it did mean she was unable to leave without waking you.

The redheaded witch had one hand nestled in your hair as she gently massaged your scalp while holding her book with the other hand and using her magic to turn the pages.

You had one leg thrown over her calve as your arms were wrapped around her thigh with your cheek resting on the top of it.

As you begun to shift around more you had began detangling yourself from Wanda, she took note of your waking state and placed the bookmark into the spine of her novel before turning and setting it down on the bedside table.

She sent a quick text to Natasha to let her know you would be up soon, before shifting her gaze back to you to admire your sleepy expression.

While you slept your features were so much more relaxed, your guard was down and the small crinkle in your brow was gone. Wanda had to hold herself back from running her thumb between your eyebrows at the sight of the usually tense skin sitting smooth and flat.

She knew you had a small headache most of the time just from the way you acted. The way your hands drifted to your temples to massage them when it got bad. The way your brow never sat flat unless you were sleeping. Or maybe it was the way you winced when Thor was being too loud that had tipped her off.

Regardless as to what it was that had alerted her to your hidden headaches, she could figure out or at least assume it was due to what pepper had said about your powers.

With them dialling up your senses it must be the cause of your day to day discomfort even if it had seemed to trigger worse than normal at the mall today.

It seemed like something that you had just accepted, after all you didn’t have a permanent solution as of yet.

It also seemed to be something that shifter day to day hour to hour in terms of its severity.

As Wanda had gotten lost in her own mind, you continued wriggling on the bed beside her drawing her attention back to present day you laid beside her.

You mumbled something incoherent before rolling over with a small tired groan that sent Wanda’s heart tripping over itself as your eyes fluttered open.

You sleepily pried your headphones off which had miraculously managed to stay on while you had slept.

Wanda smiled down at you and reached out, rubbing your back gently as she continued drinking in your tired and sleepy expression.

You gave her a slightly crooked grin that did things to her she wasn’t going to repeat.

“Hello sleepyhead.” She said softly, unsure of how you were feeling and also relived she hadn’t tripped over her words. She was optimistic that you were feeling better as you had removed your headphones of your own accord which made for a good sign.

You mumbled out a short “good morning” which made Wanda laugh softly.

Before the two of you could continue there was a light knock on the door. Wanda softly called for them to come in and Nat slipped through the doorway and into the room.

She came and sat down on the bed beside you so you were between the two women.

“Hey Y/n/n, how are you feeling?” Nat asked.

“‘M alright. A bit tired still, but my headaches gone, and it doesn’t feel like everything’s too much anymore.” You mumbled rubbing a balled fist at your eyes tiredly.

“That’s good.” Wanda said with a smile.

You sniffled, sitting up properly.

“Are you feeling well enough for a party?” Nat asked.

“What party?” You asked sitting up a little taller.

“Tony’s throwing a party to welcome you to the team.” Wanda said.

“That’s why we went dress shopping dumb-dumb.” Nat said rolling her eyes playfully.

You simply looked at them and blinked.

“Y/n? You ok?” Wanda asked.

“I think we broke her.” Nat said masking her mild concern at your lack of reaction.

“I’m fine.” You said snapping out of it.

“So?” Wanda asked.

“So?…” you asked.

“The party. You excited?” Wanda pressed and you shrugged non-committedly.

“I guess.” You said.

“You guess?” Nat said sounding exasperated. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really been to many parties. I’m more of a stay in and watch a movie kinda girly.” You said.

“If parties aren’t your thing you don’t have to stay for all of it.” Wanda said, “But you do have to make an appearance, because Stark’s throwing it for you.” She said looking apologetic.

“Wait a second,” you began looking panicked. “I don’t want people to know who I am. How will Stark throw a party to welcome me to the team without everyone finding out who I am. I mean I wouldn’t hate it but I don’t want people to know and it puts peter at risk and-“ you rambled.

“Y/n.” Wanda said but you continued to spiral. “Y/n! Listen to me.” She said taking your hands in hers. Your eyes snapped to meet hers. “Calm down. It’s not a huge party, its just the avengers and anyone else who is important to the team as well as a few SHEILD agents. Only people who already know peter is spiderman. It’s a small thing.” She reassured and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh?” You asked feeling a bit better. “Who’s coming?” You asked getting a little curious as to who knew of your little brothers alter ego.

“Well Carol is going to swing by because she’s in the area. I think the guardians are busy. All the avengers will be there some of which I don’t think you have met yet. Peppers coming. Director fury is coming by to congratulate you, I think. Maria, an old friend of Nat’s. Doctor strange avoids us at all costs since the last time New York needed to be deep cleaned with his magic so he won’t be coming I don’t think. Shuri is probably busy. Rhodey one of Stark’s friends will drop by probably. Scott lang and his daughter my be coming. And Thor is bringing his brother Loki who sometimes stays at the tower. He’s kind of an honorary avenger. Bruce will probably be hiding in his lab. I think stark invited your aunt. And of course…” Wanda said trailing off to look at Nat who rolled her eyes.

“My sister, Yelena and her best friend Kate bishop.” Nat finished for Wanda.

“So… a few people.” You said with a chuckle.

“You could say that.” Wanda smiled.

“And all these people know my brother's real identity?” You asked.

“Yes. They’ve known peter for a while most of them since the incident in Germany, but some only met him more recently when we fought the big purple grape.” Nat pitched in.

“About that…” you said looking at Nat.

“Oh … you're wondering how I survived when practically every channel on the TV was saying I died?” Nat said looking amused.

“Um… kinda, yeah.” You said. “Is that rude?”

“No. After Tony snapped, I returned with the others who blipped, and we used the time stone to go back and save Tony.” Nat shrugged.

“Okay…” you said nodding slowly. “So just another day in the office?” You grinned.

“Pretty much.” Nat said mirroring your look with a bemused smile.

“Now.” Wanda said clapping her hands. “No more stalling. The party is in two hours and we need to get ready.” The witch looked very excited at this revelation and the idea of getting ready with you and Natasha.

“Alright.” You smiled, “what are you thinking wands?”

“Well Nat is amazing at braiding so she can do hair while I do makeup.” Wanda was practically buzzing where she stood looking like she had just eaten three kilos of sugar.

“Who’s first?” You asked looked between them.

“Wanda can start on your makeup while I braid my own hair first.” Nat said with a fond smile.

“Sounds good to me.” Wanda said getting up off the bed. “Where do you keep your makeup?” She asked looking around the room.

“Um … about that … I don’t have any.” You said and Wanda looked surprised for a second before perking up again.

“I think I have some in your skin tone.” She said “I’ll be right back, stay here.” Wanda grinned before taking off out the door to presumably head to her own room.

“She love this stuff doesn’t she?” You said turning to Natasha who was expertly separating her hair into sections with her nimble fingers.

“Oh yeah.” Nat said looking amused. “She lives for this kind of thing.”

“Of course she does.” You said playfully rolling your eyes. “She’s stunning even without makeup.” You said not meaning to let that slip as Nat raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Oh yeah?” Nat asked.

“I-I mean you are too. Don’t get me wrong. Your both hot and…” you said before groaning and covering your face with your hands.

“Thanks, hot stuff you're not so bad yourself.” Nat grinned patting your leg with her hand while the other held her partially done braid together.

You must have looked like a tomato by the time Wanda came back. She laughed when she saw you sat there looking flustered.

“Oh, Nat what have you done.” She chuckled sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t think I have that skin tone.” She joked and you covered your face again.

Wanda sat beside you on the bed and gently reached out to pry your hands off your face.

“None of that, show me those pretty eyes baby.” Wanda said softly and you pouted at her with a little frown.

“Your too cute.” Natasha said as she finished one braid off with a hand before starting on the next. She planned to pin it into a fancy up-do when she finished the two braids.

You sat up on the bed, folding your legs under you in a Criss-cross pattern while wanda mirrored the pose facing you.

“Alright.” Wanda said. “What kind of look do you want to go for?” She asked.

“I don’t know much about makeup so whatever you think would be best.” You shrugged and Wanda nodded thoughtfully.

“Alright.” She said after a minute of deliberation. “I have an idea. Close your eyes we’re starting with the eye makeup.” Wanda said as she fished around in her makeup kit before pulling out some tape.

Wanda cut and short piece and lined it up tin the edge of your eyes before lightly dusting some black eyeshadow over it. When she brought her finger up to blend it out your breath hitched slightly at the feel of her fingertips on your skin and you prayed she didn’t notice.

Wanda continued working silently. Putting silver eyeshadow on and continuing to blend with her finger.

She removed the tape and curled your eyelashes before adding a waterproof mascara.

The concealer was cold when Wanda applied it and it was refreshing in a way. The way it covered the space under your eyes made you seem much less tired than you normally looked as an ever long suffering insomniac.

Once she had dusted your cheeks with a light blush and put on the finishing details you took note of how her lip had made its way between her teeth, wether from concentration or admiration you were unsure but it was cute regardless.

“Done.” Wanda said and you sighed, not realising the close proximity of her fingers ghosting over your skin had made you subconsciously hold your breath in anticipation.

“You look stunning parker.” Nat said with a little smirk.

“She’s not wrong. You look three-hundred shades of hot right now.” Wanda said and held up a mirror.

Your own breath almost hitched at the person in the mirror.

Wanda had done dark eyes with smoky eyeliner and silver eyeshadow. Your cheekbones were defined and covered in a light blush that shimmered slightly in the light. Your eyelashes looked long and dark bringing out the colour of your eyes.

“Do you like it honey?” Wanda asked.

“I love it.” You said taking your eyes off your reflection to beam at the witch who seemed to preen under your praise.

“Im glad.” Wanda said.

The rest of the time spent getting ready was rather uneventful. Nat’s fingers felt amazing as she grazed your scalp while segmenting and braiding your hair into three sections which Wanda then pinned up into a beautiful spiral.

In the end you were stood dressed in a black dress with an open back, it hugged your curves and showed just the right amount of skin. It had an ankle cut with a slit that reached to your mid thigh. It was strapless with a black ribbon holding the back together in a way that exposed plenty of tanned skin.

You had black heels with silver rhinestones which matched your silver jewellery. You wore a think silver chair and simple hoop earrings. Your rings and jewellery were all your own that you never took off and you always paired it to your outfits and not the other way around.

Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder startling you out of your own thoughts.

“You look amazing stop fretting.” She said. “If you want you can stay with either Nat or I the whole night if it helps with the anxiety.” She posed looking slightly hopeful you would agree to spend the night on her arm.

“I would love that.” You said softly and Wanda nodded happily.

“Then it shall be so my lady. Right this way.” She said swooping into a low bow and taking you on her arm and leading you down the hall.

The party wasn’t as loud as you had been expecting. Part of you had been worried of another issue with your spider senses in such close succession to the attack earlier today, but it seemed that would not be an issue today at least.

Part 6

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @leenasayeed @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff

Im sorry to anyone i missed on the taglist it was saying it couldn’t find some of the blogs i was given in the comments (this happens if you change your name as well)

[heffawhump]

Art by Shadowshandsface for chapter 7 of my fic In the Walls.

[whumpninja]

*crashing in through the whump community’s skylight*

oh hey, what’s up? I’m Jack, I’ve been lurking in the shadows of the community for way too long and I’m now revealing my presence!

Name: it’s Jack, didn’t you just see it up there? I will also accept Jacques, Jack-Jack, Jackrabbit, Jackalope, Jack Sparrow, Jack Daniels or J-Money

Age: old enough to drink, not old enough to say “back in the good old days…” while I stare wistfully out the window (I could do that, but I’d just be reminiscing about when everyone wore their jeans around their knees)

Pronouns: he/him, they/them, hey/you, call me whatever you want as long as you don’t call me late for- nope, I’m not finishing that joke

About Me: why are you asking? who do you work for? WHO SENT YOU?! Just kidding. Here are some things I like doing- writing, thinking about whump, thinking about writing whump. Here are some things I like doing but am bad at- cooking things, climbing things without falling off of them, running without feeling like I’m going to die. Here are some things I don’t like doing- studying, going to the gym, watching romantic comedies, eating canned vegetables, getting my socks wet.

About Whump: love it. Love, love, love it. Whump is great. I like almost all flavors (but hold the nuts and butts and sexy bits.) My particular favorites- defiant whumpee, whump with magic/fantasy elements in it, whumpers who just suck, uh…whumpees in gladiator fights?? But…cage matches. Not bare-chested men in loincloths stabbing each other.

Here are some blogs about whump I really like: @smellofsnoww @weirdstrangeandawful @whumperofworlds @whumperfultime @redwingedwhump @painsandconfusion @newbornwhumperfly @pigeonwhumps @caspia-writes @spookyboywhump @oddsconvert and literally so many more, I have been lurking here for *a while* also I will probably make a blubbery post about why I like these blogs the next time I have a drink

About WIPs: I have a grand total of one. It currently exists as a complicated red-string-board of a Google Doc with way too many characters and at least three plotlines. It’ll probably still have too many characters and plotlines when I post it. It’s mainly about vampires and humans whumping each other into absolute oblivion, so if that’s your speed, stay tuned, sports fans.

Anyway, it’s me, finally coming out of the shadows to join the whump community in their mission to make fictional characters suffer! I have the power of God and whump on my side- AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH-

A BIG LIST OF STUFF JACK WROTE!

[nix-sacrificium]

Rollins had an artistic streak that ran near as deep as his sadistic one, though he rarely got to flex the two skills as one— Unless he was working on the Asset; a canvas that healed, and didn’t really scar— and looked up at him with it’s big dumb doe eyes and thanked him as he attempted to detail wings into its back for— Jack didn’t even know how long that had taken him...

[whump-queen]

Silver

tags: forced intox, manhandling, "servant" whump but lets be honest he's basically a pet

-----------

Seven could smell the sharp sting of tequilia on Wes’ breath before he even saw the bottle.  

“Open up, servant.” Wes smiled and leaned in, forcing the stench further into Seven’s face, making him nearly gag at what he knew was coming. God he could already taste it. 

Seven tried to pull away, but a heavy hand found the back of his neck and harshly gripped his hair, holding him fast while the other hand messily shoved the bottle of silver upward and forced it past Seven’s lips. 

Seven knew not to struggle. He how to close his nose without plugging it by now. He’d hold his breath. He’d hold his—fuck. It burned in his empty stomach instantly. 

Considering all the occasions Wes had forced his servant to drink, Seven should’ve been an expert at this. But experience didn’t mean his nights went without mishap, and just because he knew how to drink it down for a few sips, it didn’t mean Wes would let up this time, forcing him to take gulp after excruciating fiery gulp until his mind was screaming for oxygen and for the poison to stop. Just stop. 

He could feel hot tears running down his face. He needed to breathe. It took everything in him to swallow and not fucking wretch as soon as Wes yanked the bottle away. Oxygen hit his lungs and he gasped for breath until he felt lightheaded.

“Can’t waste it all on a fucking servant,” Wes sneered, releasing his fingers from Seven’s hair, roughly tousling it instead. The force of his hand made the room spin and Seven could already feel it hitting him. Burning away deep his stomach and making his face feel hot and tingly. 

Wes turned away and Seven instantly grasped the wall, taking a few agonizing deep breaths, just trying so hard not to throw up. 

He’d done that before. On a night much like this one, and Wes had made him clean it all up while still nearly blacked out, promising that the next time, he’d clean it with his tongue. 

So Seven braced himself against the wall and tried to focus on his breath. He inhaled. God fuck. He exhaled. Fuck. He was going to gag.

Water.

He needed water.

This was going to be a long night. 

.

read next

series masterlist

[5ummit]

by plasticlamb

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

The Party

Jacinth Masterlist

Remember this post? Welp, I wrote it! At first I was going to use generic characters, but then I realized how well this scenario fits for Jacinth, so I quickly made the change!

Also, thank you to @lilywolfgray for helping me figure out the simile that pops up!

this one is a bit long, so I've put it under the cut!

The sound of Jacinth’s footsteps made Y/N stiffen in bed nervously.

“Wake up my little human,” Jacinth’s silvery voice cooed, “you’ve been napping long enough.”

Jacinth pulled the curtain of his and Y/N’s shared room aside, practically floating over to her. Y/N slowly sat up, her hands twisting the comforter draped over her.

“Have I told you what today is, hm?”

Y/N shook her head.

“It’s the Festival of Winter’s End,” Jacinth said with a gleaming smile, “and I’d like to bring you to the celebration. But first, I have to get you ready.”

Jacinth produced a small flower in his hand, its petals trembling from how much nectar it was filled with. Y/N knew exactly what that deceptively sweet liquid would do to her if she drank it. She looked at Jacinth with a pleading expression.

“Don’t give me that look,” Jacinth said, “drink this, won’t you? It tastes wonderful~”

When Y/N still didn’t drink, Jacinth took hold of her chin and tilted it up.

“Drink, Y/N,” he commanded gently.

As soon as Jacinth had said her name, Y/N felt her lips falling apart so the fae could pour the nectar into her mouth. Y/N swallowed, feeling the sweet, sticky liquid coat her mouth and throat.

“Very good,” Jacinth praised, “such an obedient human.”

Jacinth took Y/N’s hand and gently pulled her out of bed. He led her through the rooms of his abode to a little series of pools surrounded by soft moss. He sat her down next to one of them and positioned himself behind her. He took a small stone bowl and filled it with water from the pool. He poured the contents over her head, letting it soak into her hair. He picked up a vial and opened it, letting the fragrant contents cover her scalp. He started to work it into her hair, until a bubbly lather had formed. Once it was fully worked in, he rinsed it out with more water. All through the process, Y/N could feel her eyes getting heavy and her body going limp.

Jacinth went to remove Y/N’s dress next. When he had first taken her, he had gotten rid of those unsightly human clothes and replaced them with nicer, more appealing garments. He had barely gotten to the strap of the dress when Y/N attempted to shuffle away from him, her cheeks decorated with a red flush.

“Now now,” Jacinth said, “I have to wash you. Don’t be difficult.”

Y/N shook her head, screwing her eyes shut. Jacinth sighed.

“I forgot how sensitive you humans are,” he said, “I suppose we’ll just spot-clean.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but only a bit of slurred nonsense came out. Jacinth chuckled, then grabbed another vial. He poured the liquid inside onto a small wad of moss. He started to scrub Y/N’s skin until it was soft and clean. Y/N blinked slowly; the world started to tilt until she realized she had fallen against Jacinth’s chest.

“Aw,” Jacinth cooed, kissing her on her head, “how sweet.”

…

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed. All she knew was one minute, Jacinth was holding her amongst the mossy pools, then the next, she was blinking up at a series of lanterns hung along the trees. She heard the sound of chatter and music. She tried to sit up, but her body felt too heavy. Jacinth’s soft laughter rumbled behind her, and his face came into view.

“Finally awake, hm?” he mused, “I suppose I could’ve just asked you to sleep instead of feeding you the nectar… ah well.”

Another face came into view. It was another fae, with pointy ears, pink skin and deep, red eyes.

“Jacinth, is this your human?” she asked in awe.

“Indeed she is,” Jacinth replied with a smile.

“May we hold her?” a green fae asked.

Jacinth’s grip on Y/N tightened ever so slightly.

“She isn’t used to other fae yet,” he said, “but you can feed her if you’d like.”

The pink fae giggled with delight, then allowed a raspberry to grow in her palm. She brought it to Y/N’s lips. Y/N, who was still quite out of it, opened her mouth to let the fae feed her. It tasted much sweeter than the fruit at home, and a little bit of the juice dribbled down her chin, which made the pink fae chuckle and coo. Jacinth wiped the juice away with the pad of his thumb.

A green fae came up next, holding a honeycomb in his hand. He offered it to Y/N, and she drank the honey inside.

“She is so precious,” the green fae said, “how I wish I had a human of my own.”

“She’s very special to me,” Jacinth replied, “she is like the soothing touch of a fresh spring breeze.”

“Quite so,” the green fae agreed.

As the night went on, several more fae came up to see Y/N. Any time one of them tried to touch her, Jacinth would pull her closer to himself and make some excuse for why they couldn’t. The music playing was otherworldly, and Y/N often caught herself swaying to it.

Y/N yawned and felt her eyelids drooping shut. She felt Jacinth lift her up in a bridal carry. He made his excuses to the other fae and started to carry her home.

“Did you have a good time, pet?” Jacinth asked.

Y/N only murmured in response, eliciting a fond chuckle from him.

“Sleep now, Y/N,” Jacinth whispered.

Y/N drifted off just as the sun began to peek out over the horizon. Spring was on the way.

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

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[save-the-villainous-cat]

There were tears in the hero’s eyes.

At first glance, they had looked dead. Blood soaked through their suit and the villain was sure they had felt bones break when they’d hit their enemy several times. They’d been sure the hero was dead this time but they were still breathing. Still responsive.

The villain cursed in their mind. How many times had they been in this situation before? With the hero on the ground or the villain on the ground and the other just staring, too stunned to utter a word. Too stunned by their own actions and their own lack of humanity.

How many times had one of them stopped for a second, right there? Had hesitated and asked themselves if this was their true self? How many times had they recalculated everything and fallen to their knees next to their nemesis? God, the villain didn’t know.

But this was one of those times and honestly, the fact that the hero cried made the villain uneasy. They usually didn’t do that. They got back up or stayed down. Quiet. Suffering alone.

“This is insanity,” the hero wheezed. The villain stood there, scrutinising the mess. Assessing the situation wasn’t easy. They didn’t know how much damage they had done — they never did — but they knew the hero was okay. They were always okay. Always being just fine.

The question was: how do you kill such a saint?

“I’m afraid it is,” the villain whispered. “But I have to be honest. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know when to stop.”

“And yet, you never pull through.” The villain kneeled beside the hero, listening carefully. “And neither do I.”

They studied their nemesis, studied the blood and the broken bones. A normal human being could never survive this.

The hero leaned their head against the wall and groaned. Blood was running out of their mouth.

“I will always have to stop you,” they said. “And I know you won’t stop. You won’t stop until you get what you want. God, I don’t even know what that is. Money? Chaos? Revenge?”

Purpose, actually. But the hero didn’t need to know that.

“Creation through destruction” the villain mumbled. They pushed a loose strand of hair out of the hero’s eyes. In another life, they could’ve been something different, they feared. “That’s what I want.”

The villain was a brilliant liar.

“Ouroboros,” the hero said. They looked at the villain and something incredibly tragic soaked through the air between them. “Tail devourer.”

“I’m no serpent.”

“We’re doomed, aren’t we? For as long as we’re alive, we are doomed.” Tears kept falling down their face and, hell, the villain couldn’t place that feeling in their chest at all. As if someone or something was squeezing their heart together until it popped.

“We can’t change this,” the villain whispered. They put a hand on the hero’s thigh, attempting softness when all they had ever touched had turned into dust. “But at the end of the day, I still have you. We may be doomed to fight each other, to attempt the other’s destruction but at least we do it together.”

They wiped tears and blood out of the hero’s face and stood up, looking around aimlessly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Both healed overnight, like immortals do, and the circle repeated itself the next day.

However, it felt different this time. For both of them.

[questionableratatouille00]

𝘐 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘛𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘺 (𝘖𝘳 𝘋𝘰.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’d never understood why Bucky never seemed interested in physical intimacy. When you find out, you realize it goes deeper than you ever thought.

Note: For my ‘Don’t Touch Me’ square on my @marvel-smash-bingo card!

Warnings: rape/non-con, sexual abuse, nightmares, ptsd, Hydra Themes, implied Hydra Trash Party, insecure!reader(?), crying, angst.

[Series Masterlist]

Your sex life was not bad in these last few months you’ve been dating Bucky. That wasn’t to say it was particularly good, either.

You hadn’t had sex with him at all. You hadn’t even got past a little bit of making out. And there was nothing wrong with that, either. Maybe he was just shy. And he was a real quiet guy when he was around anybody but you, so you knew that that was a possibility.

He was also born in 1917, so there could be just more of an awkwardness around the topic for him. You obviously had no idea what Sex Ed was like in the 1930s, but you knew that it definitely wasn’t great.

Maybe he just wasn’t interested in sex at all. And that was perfectly fine, too. He could be asexual. Or gray-asexual. Or demisexual. And you were by no means a homophobe. If he wasn’t into it, he wasn’t into it and that was that. You would certainly not be upset or—God forbid—angry over something like that.

But the thing that plagued your mind after he ran off somewhere after kissing you for a little too long was the why. He’d never said a word about sexual attraction—you’d never had that conversation before. You didn’t really know how to bring it up.

Part of you wondered if you were the problem. Was he just not attracted to you? Was there just one tiny detail on you that completely made him not want you in that way? Fuck, did you smell bad?

You pushed the thought away. But you did know that you needed to have this discussion with him. Mainly in case that last reason was it.

As if right on cue, he walked into the kitchen of your apartment.

“Hey, doll.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around you and swaying you from side to side.

“Howdy howdy. I didn’t hear you come in.” You grinned. “You’ll give me a heart attack one day.”

“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly.

The rest of the night went on as usual. At least, until halfway through the night—perhaps early morning—when you were awoken by the sound of muttering.

Now, to be very honest, you thought about muttering ‘shut up’ back, before you remembered that you were a real person and not a dinosaur like you’d been dreaming about.

You sat up, looking over at your boyfriend. Another bad dream.

You kneeled above him, opening your mouth to say something to wake him up. And once again, as if on cue, he woke up. He sat up quickly, bonking you in the head with his own skull.

“Fuck—“ You hissed as your eyes watered slightly. “Bucky, you’re okay, you’re okay, it was a dream, it’s over.” You attempted to reassure him as you reached out.

“Don’t touch me,” he pleaded. “Don’t touch me. Please.” The way he said it made your stomach flip.

“I’m not.” You promised. “I won’t. I won’t. You’re okay, you’re safe. It’s me. Jus’ me and you.”

He seemed to relax at that as he laid back down. And then—very surprisingly—fell right back asleep.

Normally his nightmares were more of a major thing, so this was certainly a surprise. You frowned, before you yourself eventually fell back asleep.

The next morning, you woke up alone, with the faint smell of breakfast coming in through the room. You walked out of your bedroom and to the kitchen, greeting your boyfriend.

“Mornin’,” you hummed.

“Good morning, doll. Did you sleep good?” He asked innocently, as if he didn’t remember the night’s…revelations.

“Yeah.” You murmured back. And then you decided to finally grow some balls and ask.

“Bucky? Can I talk to you about something serious?”

“Sure.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Always, hon. What’s goin’ on?”

“Is there a reason you don’t want to have sex with me?”

He practically turned to stone.

“What?” He croaked out.

“There’s nothing wrong about it! I’m just—it’s stupid. I’m sorry, I’m being an asshole. Never mind—“ You wanted to simultaneously beat the absolute shit out of yourself and bury yourself.

“No, you’re not.” He cut you off. “I—should’ve told you earlier. About this. It’s—it’s not you, I promise. I..I want to have..sex with you and all of that stuff. I do, really. It’s just—there’s..some stuff.”

Your brows furrowed as you took on a concerned and empathetic expression. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s—it’s okay. I do. It’s important to me that I tell you.” He explained. “But—it gets kinda heavy. Are you okay with..hearing all of that?”

You nodded. “Yes, babe. I am.”

“When I was—when I was the Winter Soldier, HYDRA would torture me. You know that. They’d…’punish’ and ‘train’ me in ways that..fucked me up. Clearly. One of those ways was through sex.” He admitted, fiddling with his hands.

Your mouth went dry. You didn’t really know what to say. Or to do, even. Did you comfort him? Say anything at all?

“I know you would never do that to me. I promise—I’m positive and comfortable in the fact that you wouldn’t ever do anything to me without my permission.” He assured you, making eye contact. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that I can say ‘no’ and can make my own decisions without any form of punishment.”

You nodded slowly.

“But it’s just—it’s hard, y’know? Like, how I get all..jumpy and ‘PTSD-y’ on the Fourth of July because of the fireworks. It’s like that, but with..sex, and being naked and stuff like that. It doesn’t have anything to do with the Fourth of July, just like it doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just..a thing that happens in those circumstances.” He explained. “I don’t—I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like this, I promise.”

You could see his nose was getting red and his eyes were beginning to water.

“I don’t want to be broken.” He blinked away some tears, wiping the ones that escaped his eyes with the side of his hand.

“Baby, no. Oh, baby. No, you’re not broken. Honey, you’re not. I promise.” You comforted. You opened your arms for a hug and he wrapped his arms around you.

When he was ready, he continued. “It was mostly men. There weren’t any women in HYDRA up until like..2010. But sometimes they’d sell me—and I mean literally sell me—off to certain powerful women for a variety of purposes. And I didn’t have a choice.” He murmured.

“I know, baby. It wasn’t your fault. None of that was ever your fault.” You said softly.

He nodded slowly. “I do..want that. I want to do that with you, it’s just—it’s hard.”

“I know. Thank you for telling me. And we can take it slow. And if you realize you’re not into it at all—no shame. No judgement. Not from me.” You promised.

He nodded. “Dr. Raynor—when she was my therapist she..she uh, pushed on the subject.” He confessed. Your brows furrowed.

“She what?”

“I was mad about it then. And I still think she could’ve gone about it in better ways, but she gave me something useful, so..at least there’s that.” He hummed. “She suggested showering and taking baths together. For..non-sexual intimacy.”

“You wanna try that?” You met his eyes, the beautiful blue eyes that captivated you.

He nodded slowly. “If you're comfortable with it, yeah.”

“Okay. We can try that, babe.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you.” He murmured. You’d heard him say it before, you’d worked your way up to it, but neither one of you really wanted to hold back that feeling from each other.

“I love you too. No matter what.” You swore.

A/n: two Oneshots on the same day? Shocking, I know. Really wanted to bring hydra trash party and reader insert fics together. This was low key inspired by me and an ex (we’re on good terms dw), and it feels very important to me.

Please reblog if you enjoyed!

Sequel here!

dividers by @saradika-graphics