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igncrxntripley · 1 year

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HEYY GIRL IM BACK

okayy i feel so goofy asking for specific smuts BUT can it just start out as a regular match after a breakup ( reader & rhea arent on good terms rn ) and they work things out towards the end? like they admit that theyve both been thinking about eachother all the time & stuff. regular smut & switch rhea & reader pleasee

ty for replying so fast 🙏 my rhea obsession is an emergency

forgiveness

a/n: two posts in one day...i'm wild

mentions: NSFW 18+, smut, fighting/volatile relationships, heated makeouts, grinding/scissoring, touching, fem!reader, switch!reader, switch!rhea, slight break of kayfabe (use of rhea's real name), minor descriptions of in-ring violence

taglist: @thesithdiaries @cassiesgreta @roseheartsworld @theworldofotps @babybatlover @ripleyswhore @auburnwrites @obl1vionblackhart @emogoblin-666 @hereliespumpkin @blxxdshxteyes @neptune-lover @bunnysmyname @i-have-issues-lol @ares-athena @thatonepansexual2000 @witcherfromwallachia

work used to be your safe place. you could go and be with your friends, meet amazing fans, and do what you loved every single day. who wouldn't want that for themselves?

that all changed, though, when you and demi broke things off. the two of you loved one another but the stress of your jobs and constantly being on the road took its toll. the rare times where you and demi got to see one another were spent screaming and fighting, and the last time you spoke to one another was the day she stormed out of the house with her bags and called it quits. you never thought you'd be so happy but so sad to see the woman you love leave, but since then nothing had been the same.

you didn't even see how badly demi was struggling with it either. every night she wanted to pick up the phone and call you; she wanted to apologize, pretend like nothing happened and move on with you. but how could she after saying the things she said? after storming out of the house rather than talking through your issues like a regular couple? both of you had fucked up numerous times during your relationship, but demi still hadn't forgiven herself for what she'd done.

the best part? both of you had to go to work like nothing was wrong. every week on the road, it never failed that you saw one another backstage. you always hoped with how many people were backstage at a time that you could avoid her, but with your luck that wasn't going to happen.

the cherry on top of it all? you had a match against her. yep, you and your ex - in a ring together, for twenty minutes at least, needing to practically be on top of one another.

your life was an actual fucking joke at this point.

from the moment you walked out into the ring from gorilla and saw rhea standing there, you felt nauseous. practically everyone in the audience knew about what had happened and they just kept staring at the both of you. but you kept up your character to the best of your ability, doing what you needed to do to get through this nightmare of a match you were about to have.

it almost felt...wrong. to have your hands on demi in any way shape or form. sure, this was rhea ripley and not demi. you were both in character. you were putting on the personas that the audiences were familiar with. but as you and demi grappled on the mat and inflicted physical pain on one another, it continued to bring up all of those unresolved feelings.

each hit, slap, kick, tug of the hair...it was an accessory to the words you'd spat at each other in your arguments over the last few months. not only that, but rhea ripley was known for tormenting her opponents. she wasn't above getting in their face and giving them a piece of her mind; and you best believe she did the same thing with you.

at one point, demi was straddling you in the ring. both of you breathless with exhaustion, you absolutely a mess both physically and emotionally, and rhea was clearly in her feelings about everything as well. the last straw, though, was when she leaned in closer to your face and said her first words to you since breaking things off.

"you're nothing to me. and you'll never be anything to me."

you saw red the moment she said that to you. whether she said it in character or meant it, you didn't care; she knew what she was doing by saying it. it was like the crowd and the cameras disappeared, and the absolute rage in your body overpowered everything else and you unleashed hell on her. that anger gave you the opportunity to end the match and deliver a finisher, and while normally winning felt amazing...this felt like garbage.

--- ---

alone time in your dressing room gave you way too much time to think about everything that had gone on the ring. you couldn't erase the look on demi's face as she stood over you...the sound of her voice telling you that you meant nothing to her when you'd given so much of yourself to her during your relationship. but apparently you meant nothing? you could barely comprehend it.

a knock at the slightly open door brought you out of your thoughts, but the sight of demi changed out of her ring gear and freshly showered sobered you up real fast. "don't even think about coming in here and talking to me after the shit you pulled out there." you mumbled, already standing up and looking to make your escape.

demi blocked the doorway and closed the door, a gentle look on her face replacing the one riddled with intimidation and anger from earlier in the night. "i just want to talk to you." she said softly. "i know you're pissed, because i would be too. but i just need to talk."

you hesitated, but eventually you gave a small nod and sat back down on the couch. "start talking, then." you mumbled, watching as demi took her spot on the coffee table in front of you.

she ran a nervous hand through her hair and let out a shaky breath before she finally managed to talk to you. "i didn't mean what i said out there." she said softly. "i...i didn't mean any of the horrible things i ever said to you."

you wanted to believe demi, but how could you? the last half of your relationship with her was filled with fights. you'd internalized all of the awful things she'd managed to say to you, whether she meant them or not, and she was just now saying she didn't mean it? "demi, i-"

"no, y/n. i promise." she said quickly with a gentle shake of her head. "i regret all of it. i hate that i ever hurt your feelings or made you cry because that wasn't my intention. i was just...i'd get so angry that i would start saying things but never actually thought of how they would hurt you." you knew when demi was serious...and the this was the most serious you'd seen her in a long time. "i know you probably hate me, but i still really care about you."

her words made your stomach flip; butterflies erupted, knowing that she meant what she was saying. but the pain lingered from everything that had gone on during your relationship. your heart was speaking a lot louder than your brain though, and as you gently reached for demi's hand you spoke up for the first time since she entered the room. "i still really care about you, too."

demi's face lit up like a lightbulb as the realization that not all hope was lost. her free hand came forward to hold your cheek, both of you slowly inching closing to one another until your noses gently touched. "let me show you." she whispered before finally catching you in a gentle kiss.

your next moves were almost a complete blur; the tension had changed around you and demi to not so much angry tension, but this time one of a sexual nature. the two of you hurried in between kisses to remove articles of clothing until there was nothing left, your hands exploring one another's bodies for the first time in weeks. even though it had been some time away from demi, you personally hadn't been with anyone else; the pain was still too real, too fresh for you to introduce another person to this level of intimacy. but this - having demi in this way - it felt so normal. like you hadn't skipped a beat.

her kisses moved down from your lips to your neck and collarbone. demi was quick to adjust herself so you were both sat with your legs interlocked with one another, your bare centers pressed against one another and the heat of the moment causing both of you to moan and whine with anticipation. "dems..." you mumbled breathlessly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her as close as possible.

nothing else needed to be said; she knew what you needed, because she needed it just as badly. a small gasp left your lips as demi slowly began to move against you, her arms tightening around your body in response. "look at me, baby." she whispered, leaning your foreheads together as you made eye contact and moaned against one another. as she moved and created friction against your clit, you moved your own hips against her to give demi the same sensation. "you're so beautiful. can't want to feel you cum against me like you used to."

once again, demi's words drove you crazy. you whimpered, your ankles locking behind demi's back to keep her there and move a little faster. as the two of you moved and kissed, it only brought both of you closer and closer to a climax that neither of you had experienced in so long - let alone one the two of you shared - and that thought alone made you cling to demi as if she was going to slip away. "wanna cum with you." you mumbled.

demi smiled, your sweaty forehead leaning against her shoulder while you let out soft incoherent mumbles of the same few words. please...baby...demi...need you...

all of that alone, along with the increased speed creating more friction against your bodies, caused both you and demi to reach your highs at about the same time. you leaned back on your hands with a gasp as your thighs trembled. "fuck...oh fuck!" you whimpered. demi wasn't far behind, her own body shaking with euphoria as she finished as well. she was quick though to pull you closer to her body again, running a hand through your hair and exchanging kisses to work both of you down from your climax.

you opened your eyes to look at demi, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "i think i forgive you." you teased softly, demi's fingers twirling your hair as you cuddled with one another.

#wwe imagine #wwe x reader #wwe rhea ripley #rhea ripley #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley smut #wwe smut #rhea ripley headcanons

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angelic-transsexual · 9 months

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it doesn't matter how much testosterone i take, how masculine or feminine i present, whether i have a flat chest or not, i'm still going to get stared at like i'm a walking freak show. and i have no issue with that! its just so baffling to have so many transmeds tell me that i "dont pass" even though passing is subjective, and being told that i'm "not trying" in regards to my transition or that i'm "faking" being trans. i literally meet their criteria of having gender dysphoria and medically transitioning, but i'm still someone they hate or someone they view as "not trying." its just very weird. im mostly feminine. i have a mullet, i shop at forever 21 and hot topic and 99% of my clothing is feminine. but even when i'm out in public dressed in an androgynous/masculine way, in a t shirt and sweatpants I STILL get stares. i also literally have facial hair. no matter how i present and no matter what medical steps i take to transition im still going to be stared and looked at. trans medicalism is stupid and has not helped anyone. all it does is reinforce gender stereotypes and punish trans people who may not want to or cant get anything done medically.

YOU DO NOT NEED GENDER DYSPHORIA TO BE TRANS

YOU DO NOT NEED TO MEDICALLY TRANSITION TO BE VALID

YOU DONT NEED TO "PASS" TO BE VALID

#ftm #gay #trans #transgender #queer #transsexual #trans man #lgbt #trans male #ftm mlm #gender #gender norms #gender nonconforming #gender dysphoria #transmedicalism #anti transmedicalism #transmedicalism is harmful #queerness

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trimisu · 2 years

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Oh yeah also also!!

Hq character and reader gets into a fight (they’re dating now, ofc fights are gonna happen once in a while)

Hq character says something along the lines of “im done” or “im tired” and reader misunderstands it as they meant their relationship

So the guilt, anxiety and fear starts crashing down and they’re lowkey hyperventilating and panicking

And then comes comfort hehe

Contain/s: mentions of hyperventilating, argument, angst with comfort

A/n: well, this took so long to answer :D

Masterlist

"I am getting tired of this shit!" That's what their last words were before they left.

You were tired and stressed out, it was just a small misunderstanding, but you didn't expect that you will be screaming at each other. The fight went on for a while, exchanging profanities and insults at each other before your partner leave the house with a loud slam from the door.

Your feet were glued to the floor as you stared at the place where they last stood before they left. This is it. It's all over. There's a higher chance that they will pack up their things and leave you alone.

Guilt, fear, and anxiety crept into your body as you gripped your arms tighter, your heart began to ache at the thought of them leaving you. What do you do? What should you do? Should you run out of the house and look for them?

You were panicking as these thoughts run through your head, your hands were sweating bullets as you unconsciously rubbed your arms while you feel your tears prickled from your eyes. You felt dizzy as you rapidly tried to get enough air in your lungs, you can even hear your heart beating fast.

"It's going to be alright," you heard a familiar, soft voice. You look up to see your lover who came back with a look of concern on their face, "follow my breathing, slow deep breaths," you felt a warm hand lifting yours to their chest.

It was warm, you felt their chest heaving up and down slowly. You looked and followed the movement of their lips, it parted as they breathe in and pursed their lips as they breathe out. With a few slow deep breaths, you were able to breathe normally, though with a few sobbing sounds.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?" You felt their thumb on your wet cheek, wiping away the remaining tears in your eyes.

You shake your head as a response, "listen, I'm so sorry about earlier! I...I let that situation the better of me and—"

Your partner cuts you off, "Hey, it's fine! I also felt guilty about what happened earlier... But I want to figure this issue out together once our minds are clear, yeah?"

Your eyes filled with hope and surprise, "y-you won't leave me, then?" Hearing your question made them surprised, did them walking out made you think of this?

"Of course not! I want you to know that no matter how many arguments or fights we have, I still love you and that won't change," you felt butterflies fluttering around your stomach as their eyes goes soft and their voice was raised a bit but in a softer tone.

You smiled as you felt their fingers interlocking with yours.

"Shall we hit the bed and talk about it in the morning?"

"Huh? Haven't you heard? You're sleeping on the couch tonight!"

"We both know that you can't sleep when I'm not next to you, (Y/n)..."

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stick-ball · 6 months

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I WAS LOOKING FOR A JEREMY BPD/ANGER ISSUES POST I THOUGJT I HAD SEEN THIS MORNING PLEASE WRITE YOUR HEADCANNONS AGAIN I BEG OF YOU GIVE JEREMY KNOX THE LOVE HE DESERVES

Okay so this is long overdue, but might as well. I guess this is an observation of fandom Jeremy as much as the canon one, so don't come at me.

I dunno read Jeremy as having BPD bcs... bcs honestly have you ever met anyone who has Sunshine shining from their ass? Me neither. Though I have met ppl with severe personality issues who had a coping mechanism like that, of course they weren't young and talented sportsmen looked up to by many ppl and rooted for by many, so they had enough free space and privacy to go absolutely fucked up at other ppl when they were having bad brain hours.

Yes im including myself here.

The name of the game is If I Give Them No Reason to Leave Me They Won't.

Or If I Give Them No Things To Hate Me For They Won't Hurt me.

But spice it up with black and white thinking, paranoia and unhelathy behaviours jumping off the standard spectrum of bottling things out into like, going on a 4 hour run to cool off bcs you are undeserving bcs you are a bad captain bcs you're annoyed at the freshmen bcs they dont care about your shared goals enough and is thay really a them issue? Or is it actually a You issue? Are you blaming others for your own failures again? Look at yourself, you're fucking pathetic, and egoistic at that, you demand things from others but how do you show you care for what others need huh? You think you're a good captain? Keep telling yourself that, before you know it they will all turn against you. Because you're a failure, bcs you cant even make them care? Maybe you're just not a good enough player , or maybe they can see straight through you, see what you are udnerneath the happy exterior. Yo have just not good enough, not trying hard enough, and you want them to look up to.. to That???

Or maybe it is a them issue bcs fuck that, fuck the smiling, fuck the caring, you don't actually care, if they don't care, why would you? 🤔 you don't owe anyone anything you are so done with everyone and everything cant they LEAVE YOU THE FUCK ALONE, HAVENT YOU DONE ENOUGH TO HAVE AT LEAST ONE SMALL THING GO RIGHT ONCE? YOU ARE SO FUCKKNG ANGRY so you have to do something you feel like smashing something, you could, your body is literally a machine, you could show them what you actually think about their Opinions, how pathetic and annoying they are and actually fuck that you have to leave you cant stand being in the same room as them for one second longer.

But the sunshine Jeremy 🌞 exterior slips on so even though you want to crash the doors closed you smile and wave and say something stupid and cheery you even have a fucking spring in your step.

Bcs you're a fucking liar a fucking impostor you can't help it at this point you are a clay figurine that's hollowed out inside.

You are so tired it's like there's a lump of cloth absolutely soaked weighting on your lungs

You actually feel like crying while you wave at alvarez from the stretch of the corridor, making goddamn plans to meet up for group studying maths later in the evening while your lungs constrict holding down a sob.

You hate them all for the next 3 hours.

And then on hour four while you're circling the campus heading back from your walk/jog/run/staring into the distance/jog again you tap into the very comfortable very familiar hating of yourself.

This is a light version of course but I bet Jeremy is that person that dissapears sometimes like at parties ect bcs they are doing some absolutely stupid shit like having sex with a complete stranger or getting drunk but they know enough about the emptiness and self hatred they will feel ten minutes after they succumb to thay behaviour that they learned to do it when the judgment of the ppl who know them won't touch this piece of him. Bcs it feels like a separate piece.

Like he is parcelled into different breeds of fucked up inside and they are all set on a loop in a music playing machine from a highway diner. One song ends another starts you can choose which one if you throw in a dime.

And also we gotta add in the sensory issues, he sees things, he hears them, sometimes he does a dodge while there's nothing coming bcs he thought it was. Some weeks it feels almost he lives from one training to the next bcs he doesn't remember a minute from what's in between. Good thing he taught himself this sunny persona bcs its an autopilot mode that gets him having to answer the least amount of questions when he doesn't fucking remember what happened from 8 am till late afternoon that day.

#jeremy knox hc #just my headcanons #jeremy knox #jeremy knox has bpd #bpd problems #with a douse of #anger issues #on the side #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #aftg headcanon #aftg hc #the sunshine court #tsc #usc trojans #tfc headcanon

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trickstarbrave · 5 months

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wip whenever

hiiiii i got tagged by @nocturance again SO it's wip time

tagging: @boethiahspillowbook @orfeoarte @soundwavefucker69 (fuck you show me ur stuff minty) @thescrolls-haveforetold ANDDDD YOU READING THIS IF U WANT A TAG

so far for pictures we got. these guys being gay. as always (i love when they stare and are so close to kissing but dont. the tension is what does it for me)

we also have almalexia in judith slaying holofernes but tbh this will prob take. a lot longer. jesus this painting is more complicated than i thought and i am. stupid. (nerevar is holofernes in this)

AND FOR WRITING: a part of moon and star in an upcoming chapter. warnings though for uhhhhh racism, sexual assault mentioned, and slavery justification. its getting messy and moraelyn is being kinda gross im not gonna lie. make no mistake though he is in the wrong no matter how much he has to justify it and he wont stay azura's champion for long.

Moraelyn had simply wanted to discuss things with the new head of House Dagoth. Sure, the lord was still young, but supposedly the hortator had been his canvasari.

Moraelyn, prince without a crown or city, wanted to understand. Almalexia Indoril had promised Nerevar was a great champion who almost single handedly rescued Voryn from nord capture. She wanted to go so far as to name him hortator of two Great Houses, something that had never been done before. He wanted reassurance that this man would truly be of good help, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious. A couple of battalions, even led by the most clever commander, couldn’t destroy a dozen or so nord camps; not without a better explanation at least. And there was the matter of Nerevar’s mixed blood--the nordic nose, the softer shape of his brow, the texture of his hair and lighter tone of his skin--it was clear he was part nord.

The prince couldn’t help but be suspicious. Sure, not all with mixed blood were traitors, but plenty were. Many chose to align themselves with the nords, cutting their ears to look more manish, adopting a full nordic accent, and selling their secrets to the enemy in exchange for refuge and glory. Others sold them out out of familial bonds--parents, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and cousins with nordic blood were harder to kill for them. They were more loyal to the blood of frost walkers than the velothi.

It wasn’t hard to see Nerevar being the same, especially when he already had trial by combat for treason. Of course he’d know about the nords’ battle plans that day if they were telling him the information. Of course he would be able to negotiate for Voryn’s freedom in exchange for a few secrets, all to bring him back and make himself look better. What was to say when they marched to Ebonheart he didn’t sell out Moraelyn and his men?

But Moraelyn was not unreasonable. If there was an alternative explanation for Voryn’s freedom and his ability to defeat the nords, he would listen to it. Perhaps Voryn, who was there, would be willing to tell him. He didn’t see House Dagoth working together with the nords--they were suspicious, but he’d more so believe they join hands with the dwemer they were so close to than the frost walkers.

The issue was speaking with Voryn alone. The chimer road in the same cart as Nerevar all day, and when they made camp stayed close by his side, eating and talking with him. Moraelyn waited, knowing if there was ever a time Voryn would be away from the half blooded chimer who clung to him, it would be when it came time to sleep.

Yet, as he parted the House Dagoth tent--making sure there was still light inside so he knew Voryn was still awake, he jumped at the sight that greeted him.

Voryn Dagoth was awake: sitting up slightly, reading over a scroll in his cot. That wasn’t the usual part--instead what was concerning was the fact he was clearly bare except for the blankets around his waist…

And beside him, already asleep, was the white hair half blooded chimer himself, equally as nude.

Moraelyn’s face flushed both in embarrassment and anger. Had Nerevar earned his position as head of House Dagoth through sex? It was a very good tool of manipulation, but he thought House Dagoth with their worship of Mephala would be immune to such a thing.

“A word, Lord Dagoth?” Moraelyn asked, trying to keep his voice level. Voryn’s eyes were already narrowed at the interruption, his hand stopping the slow strokes he was giving to his lover’s hair.

“Wait outside.” Voryn replied, getting up and tugging on a robe that had been left on the rug simultaneously. Nerevar beside him stirred, humming confused, before being hushed. Moraelyn wasted little time in retreating outside, disgust and anger bubbling away at him.

Voryn Dagoth had returned, after what Moraelyn could tell was a silencing spell cast so the man sleeping inside couldn’t hear.

“What did you need?” He asked, arms crossed firmly over his chest, clearly enraged by the interruption but trying to temper his reaction.

“I had originally come to ask if you truly thought Nerevar was a capable enough warrior to liberate my city,” Moraelryn tried to hide the disgusted sneer and failed. “But I can see you were not as objective of a judge as I believed.”

Voryn scoffed in response. “Nerevar is more than capable enough. If anyone can liberate Ebonheart, it would be him.” Red eyes bore into Moraelyn’s. “Certainly better than any of your men could fare.”

“Have you no shame?” Moraelyn responded, offended. “Just because he warms your bed that doesn’t make him a better fighter than the champion of Azura--”

“Whether he warms my bed or not has nothing to do with his ability to fight.” Voryn didn’t back down in the slightest. “I’ve seen him battle with my own two eyes.”

“Did he even battle to get you back? Or did he barter with nords in exchange for your freedom as his lover?” He could much more easily see Nerevar making jokes about how he wanted his elven paramour back with the nordic men and what he would have to do to make it happen. Yet, after he said that, Voryn gave a loud bark of laughter in his face.

“Had you seen him on the battlefield at that time,” Voryn’s face was now deathly serious, staring almost through him in an uncanny way that made his skin crawl, “You wouldn’t dare even joke about such a thing.” His words were stern, carefully enunciated. “Barter? With the men who desecrated my family’s tomb and ruined my mother’s funeral? Who tortured me and kept me in chains? Who were going to mail back my head?” Moraelyn always disliked the blood red of House Dagoth’s eyes; they only made his skin crawl when they spoke like this, like he was staring down Mephala herself. “He destroyed them. Slaughtered them like animals.” Voryn then turned his head slightly, sneering in disgust himself at Moraelyn. “But what do I expect from a house who is only kicking up a fuss that they didn’t sell him into slavery.”

“Selling half bloods into slavery is the right thing to do.” Moraelyn excused it. “Do you know how many of them are traitors? Who drove us out of our own city--slaughtering innocents in doing so--all to curry nordic favor? Who mutilate their bodies by cutting their ears and refusing to speak the velothi tongue?” House Dagoth, so far up north they rarely even encountered those of mixed blood wouldn’t know, but Moraelyn did. When he was still just a boy, still learning the sword, they clamored to kill him and hang his head from the city gates. They tried to trick him, using their chimeri appearance to lure him into a false sense of security, before trying to slice him with poisoned daggers. “And that’s not to say how many are the product of nordic men assaulted chimer women against their will, forcing them to give birth to their bastards like livestock just to torture them. No doubt he is just the same--”

Voryn’s hand grabbed him by the collar, but from the bloodlust radiating off him, Moraelyn didn’t doubt he’d much rather be strangling him.

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” Voryn growled, teeth bared like an animal.

“Deny it if you want to.” Moraelyn glared back. “You haven’t had to see the horrors. I did.” Voryn then, enraged, shoved him aside, a spark spell dancing on his fingertips. “They are dangerous, disloyal, and violent. And isn’t a mercy to instead have them doing labor then forcing their chimeri families to raise them? To be reminded of the pain they had to endure?”

“Do I have to cut out your tongue myself?” Voryn threatened.

“Then prove me wrong.” Moraelyn challenged him. “Tell me his mother’s name and how much she adores him. Tell me about his extended family and all the praises they can give him.” Voryn’s hands clenched. “But you can’t, can you?” He asked now, knowing he was right. “If you dare speak this nonsense in front of Nerevar I will ensure you will not live to see Ebonheart ever again.” Voryn finally declared, turning to go back to his tent. “Doubt his abilities if you wish. Get yourself killed on the battlefield from your paranoia for all I care.” The dark haired chimer shot him one last, deadly glare. “But don’t you dare speak to him this way, or I will be the one to end you, not any nord.”

#nerevar #voryn dagoth #nerevoryn #moon and star spoilers #my writing #this hasnt been proof read okay

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delusionisaplace · 6 months

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the taste of vengeance: intro

i just finished chapter one over the course of this past weekend, so i thought i’d share a small bit of it :)))

im not really sure if any of this makes sense out of context though lol, so if you want more information, feel free to ask!!

words: 1,809

From deep within the chamber, I heard the door creak, disrupting my thoughts.

“Victor?” a low voice called, “Victor?” The voice grew louder and louder until it was directly behind me. “Victor,” the housekeep said firmly, “Faina and Elias request to see you. They wish to bid you farewell before you depart.”

I could feel a bittersweet smile tug at my lips as I continued to stare at the burning coals.“Ah, yes. Send them in, please.”

The chambermaid left me another word, but one echoed deep my mind: farewell. In forming this decision, I never quite considered the possibility that I would have to say farewell to those that I loved in my search of a more fulfilling life, nor did I prepare myself for the moment that I would have to.

A hand found its way around my waist, a pair of lips planting themselves on my cheek. “Victor. Elias and I have come to say our farewells.”

I turned to face Faina—once I gazed into her amber eyes, a solemn look began to descend over my face. I never once thought I would ever leave the woman I once considered the love of my life, the woman I was to be wed to by the end of winter.

Her brow furrowed at the sight of my slack expression. “What is wrong, Victor? You seem as though someone has died? Are you sick?” She pressed the back of her hand to my forehand, checking to see if my temperature had dropped.

“No,” I said with a wry chuckle. “I am fine, just a bit uneasy. This will pass soon.”

She drew her hand back and shifted her gaze towards the ground. “So…I presume you are packed and ready to leave?”

“Indeed I am.”

“Have you planned on where you will go?”

I shook my head, a mix of sadness and uncertainty growing in my chest with each passing moment. “I haven’t yet, Faina. After all, there are many places, many possibilities, and this life is long. I’m sure I will have time to see all that I desire.”

She went silent for a long while, mustering up the words she had kept buried deep in her heart. “Must you leave us, Victor?” Faina’s lips began to tremble slightly as she spoke, tears threatening to pool in her eyes.

“Oh, yes. I am afraid I must. I feel as though I am trapped here.”

“I do not understand how you could feel such a way when you are surrounded by those who love you. Is there another reason why you are leaving? Is it me? Have I done something wrong?”

I could feel my heart tear upon hearing the pain in her voice.“No. This is no fault of your own. The issue resides in me. You and Elias know what your paths in life are, but I have spent my life following the one that had been assigned to me from birth. Now, it is time for me to discover how I would like to spend my life.”

She took my hand, holding on tightly as if afraid to let go. “Victor. Be honest with me. Is this because of your father’s refusal to end our engagement?”

“To some degree.” A pang of guilt tugged at my heart. “There are more reasons, but I know that if I stay, we will have to be wed by the end of this winter, and I know I will be suffocated by the expectations and responsibilities that would come with our union. This is not the life I want for either of us. We deserve a love that is born out of choice, not obligation—I don’t want our relationship to be tainted by regret and resentment.”

The weight of my words settled heavily on Faina’s shoulders, her eyes now shimmering with unshed tears. I could not tell what she was thinking at that moment, nor could I tell exactly what her intentions were in what she said next. “I love you, Victor. And I will continue to, even when you stop loving me. I do not care that your heart belongs to someone else, and I do not care that you no longer wish to be betrothed. I will not ask you to stay, nor will I hold you back. I simply ask that you uphold your end of our promise.”

“Thank you, my dear, for understanding.” I smiled to soothe her nerves despite the agony I felt in the depths of my soul. “I think it is time for me to say goodbye to Elias.”

I could see her lips drop into a frown at the mention of his name. “I…suppose so.” she said hesitantly. She avoided my gaze and tried to change the topic as she ran her fingers through my tangled tresses. “Farewell, Victor. May your journey bring you the peace and clarity you seek. I hope you remain safe in your travels.” With her slender, delicate fingers, she dusted my face and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Alright now, go on.”

I carefully approached Elias: he stood off in a corner where the fire’s light did not reach, his features dark and cloaked in shadows, a scowl evident on his face.

I stood before him, the weight of my decision heavy in the air between us. As I cleared my throat, he turned his gaze towards me, his eyes narrow with mistrust.

“I see you’ve made up your mind then,” Elias muttered, his voice laced with bitterness.

I nodded, my voice filled with remorse. “I have.” I stammered, searching for other words to say other than that. “It…it is time I learn who I truly am apart from the life I was destined to at birth.”

Elias diverted his eyes towards the ground, his fists clenching at his side. “And what of us, Victor? What of the plans we have made? Do they mean nothing to you now?” His voice fell to a low whisper as he continued to speak his mind. “It was not long ago we planned to elope. It was not long ago that you kissed me, and it was not long ago you said you loved me more than anything in the world. So why, Victor, do you intend to leave me?”

My heart shattered into pieces at this question: I never thought of how Elias would respond to the news of my departure, nor did I think that I would be breaking the oath I made to him only a few months prior. At that moment, it dawned on me that I was abandoning him, a man who had sworn his heart and life to me, a man who was devoted to only me, and immediately, a feeling of guilt overcame me.

“I…I simply want to take a different path in life than the one I was appointed, as I said earlier.” I answered him, trying to conceal the pain in my voice.

“And this, I understand. What I do not understand, however, is why there is no room for me in this new life you seek.” He inched closer, entering the light as he reached to hold my hands in his. “Why? Why must you leave?” He brought his eyes back up to mine—they glistened with water, his face slick with tears. “Can you not take me with you?”

I felt my own tears well up, threatening to spill over as I looked into Elias’ pleading eyes, begging me to stay by his side. How was I to explain to him that this was a task I had to undertake on my own when he looked at me with those eyes, those eyes which held a depth of desperation and loss?

“I wish I could, but it is necessary I find myself, that I understand my own desires and dreams apart from the expectations that have been placed upon me. This is not a path that can be shared, regardless of how much we wish it were.”

He tightened his grip on my hands, his touch providing a small comfort in the face of our looming separation. “We have been through so much together, and we have conquered countless obstacles together. So why must you face this by yourself?”

My heart ached at the forlorn tone of his voice, and for a brief moment, I wavered. I considered telling him this was nothing more than a twisted jest, and that I had always planned for him to leave with me— a tantalizing thought, I admit. But as much as I longed to soothe his pain, as much as I longed for him to accompany me, I knew I had to find who I was truly meant to be and what my purpose was, even if it meant leaving Elias behind for a while.

“Elias, I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “this is something I must do independently, and you are aware of this. Why try to deny what you are already privy to?”

Elias finally released my hands, his expression a mix of resignation and sadness.“If this is truly what you need, Victor, then I will respect your decision,” he said, his voice heavy with defeat. “Simply tell me…that you will return one day. This is all I ask of you.”

“I guarantee that this separation shall be temporary. I shall return, and I shall take you with me to all the places I have visited and more.” I reached up to hold his face, combing his dark locks out of his eyes. “I promise I will come back for you one day. Do not take any lovers in my absence.” I said with a light chuckle, jesting to add levity to the situation—still, the joke felt flat and poorly timed.

“I won’t, Victor. I shall remain faithful to you only.” He offered me a sad smile as he pulled me into an embrace, his arms tightly wound around my body, his chin gently resting atop my head. I could feel the rapid beat of his heart, his large hands cradling my head— I wanted to hold on for as long as I could, I wanted to stay in the warmth of his arms—I wanted to cherish this very moment. After what seemed to be ages, Elias slowly released me.

“Victor…I suppose this is farewell for now. But know that a part of me will always be waiting for you, hoping that you will return to me.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, a bittersweet kiss filled with both love and grief—one that held a lifetime of memories and a promise for the future. As we broke apart, Elias whispered, “Take care, my love. Find yourself and come back to me.”

taglist (ask to added or removed): @fleurtygurl @macabremoons @ember-writer

#wip: taste-of-vengeance #nano 2023 #wip snipps #𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙨

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wulvert · 1 year

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so ive heard that you have more triptrack lore???????? *stares at you intensely, full of platonic love for you and your work* would you like to tell us about it? :D

hello! thank you so much.... some more important lore is probably upcoming pretty soon so i wont spoil that ( if anyone even notices the lore anyway idk )

some stuff i probably wont go into much more than whats already in the comic is reds backstory, i think you can kinda pick up the vibe of whats going on with him, but i can go into it here + some stuff abt the world :) some people picked up on it fine, and some people still seem confused about it, but the uv levels output by the sun in triptrack are too high for human survival without protective measures. i dropped out of highschool and i never went to classes before that anyway, i have no idea how science works. the ozones fucked in some way. i usually call it murder sun. you can wear sunscreen but its a bit risky, and extremely expensive. only really rich people can afford it & you still need to protect your eyes & mouth. masks and gloves r more common. half masks are more of a fashion item but remove some risks associated with sunscreen.

red always wore a mask but someone he was working with (nefarious work) ripped it off to try kill him a while back, you can see a hand print on his face 125 i think, some people assumed its his own handprint but it came from that person holding him down. they were friends, so hes a bit distrustful of people now, understandably i think. It damaged his eyes a lot but he could afford to get them fixed a little bit, he only had the money to do that and nothing else, his skins still kind of actively injured, not healed bc hes never been able to afford healthcare. Red doesnt feel negative about how he looks at all, its the least of his concern- hes in excrutiating pain 24/7, he just wants his facial nerves dealt with & doesnt care about anything else- hes considered getting the handprint tattood to match the rest of his face, but he decided its better to save his money for other stuff. stealing tex will get him enough money for fairly permanent pain relief, after that i imagine he'll just get a new mask & put some less ugly clothes on and leave the whole stealing thing behind, he's very tired. triptrack wouldnt have happened if red had free healthcare.

just to like state outright, tex is a robot, some poeple believed him when he said "im not a robot", sorry i didnt even think abt people thinking he was telling the truth, my bad. shae ( if anyone remembers her its been 60 years ) isnt a robot, though. Terry is the younger brother, he shares a lot of code with tex but ms tarantula built his body, whereas she didn't tex's. tex is a lot stupider than terry because of creative differences at the time of tex's creation i guess. he can get smarter but he's been very sheltered his entire life. Terry doesnt really care about being a robot (he doesnt care about much) but tex appreciated red not knowing at least for a little bit. Shae will probably sue mt. co. if anyone. remembers. that. either. I think for my next comic im going to make whole chapters and upload them in chunks like that so people dont have to read it so slowly.

also not very important but glass city used to be an ocean!

you can see a little bit of water at the corners of this panel, and theres whale skeletons scattered around. also they tried to built a dome around it to keep the uv out but it was a disaster, shards of it also just hang out around the city from that.

also theres not very many people want windows, so all the more space for advertisement hell.

I definitely dont think i've gotten triptracks stuff across very well, but also i kind of like how vague it is. triptrack has a l o t of issues, and i want to go back to it when its done and make a like,.. triptrack dx or something lol. but its my first comic so like.... to be expected i guess.. ive learned a lot from it. paperteeth also has so many issues & i didnt really put much i learned from triptrack into it but thats because it was supposed to be a fun little side project! that i didnt have to think about too hard! then it exploded and ate triptrack for breakfast. rip. ( i am grateful though i just. didnt think that would happen, if i did, i would have tried harder lmao) so. yeah!

#asks

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londonspirit · 2 months

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London, Take 1

Very first London trip in 2024 - one of at least four planned ones (maybe five depending on WHEN they re-home Macbeth.)

And boy, was it a great one.

Friday noon was leaving time - and I can only recommend that time of day: airports are basically empty, flights are on time and people are less stressed.

All very uneventful, meeting up C in London and off to the YHA Thameside - pretty far out but was the cheapest so… it’s a good place to stay (whether you still wanna do dorms which im too old now, or a private room; always worth checking if you’re on a budget!)

Got caught in the rain for a bit but once we’ve dried off, we were off towards Battersea power station for the light installations.

The weather Gods were merciful, no more rain for the rest of the trip so we could have a nice wander around, having dinner and learning that a fire alarm doesn’t really faze people that much at all - we were finished so we left but there were many that just stayed put O_O (was a FALSE alarm but still...O_O)

Since it got late that was about it for the Friday.

Saturday morning we had a NT backstage tour planned. GUh, I love them sooo much. I’ve done so many by now and I still love to go behind the scenes of that huge place, and have people tell me all about it. This time we had Chelsea who did an incredible job - and they were so many people that asked just smart questions that we went a bit overtime.

And we weren’t allowed into the Olivier because the NYE cast was in there, rehearsing!!!

So we were in the same building as Michael freaking Sheen!!! (We didn’t manage to get tickets for that weekend beforehand - it was sold out as it was very first preview! But we already had planned to do stage door in the evening, just in case!)

Anyhow, after the tour we were off to Richmond! Finally! I have been trying to get there for a while now.

Gosh, it’s gorgeous there! And yes, of course my Ted Lasso loving heart was in Heaven to see it all: the pub, the park, the bench (which was sadly occupied), the street!!! *sighs happily* I love to be in places where beloved shows got filmed.

And the riverside is soo pretty even though it was rather crowded. But then again, the weather was nice enough, even sunny at points.

After a while we sat down near a muddy field, considering when to go to the theatre. Being the needing to plan woman I am, I checked the site to see how long the play goes.

And there they were, two beautifully perfect seats next to each other in the middle of the circle.

I stared at them, stared at my friend and started laughing.

“Do you wanna go to the theatre tonight?” I asked once I could breathe again.

“Huh?” she said.

I showed her the site and she stared at it for like 30 seconds.

“Can we make it back in time?” she asked wide-eyed.

“Yes we can. And if we leave now, we even can have dinner before the show.”

Now SHE started laughing and nodding wildly.

So I took out my credit card and booked us tickets for NYE’s very first preview in the middle of a muddy field.

We then made our way back to London, had dinner and soon we sat down to watch Michael Sheen being amazing on stage!!!

There were no obvious issues, the staging was pretty cool and Michael was BRILLIANT despite him being in his pj’s and barefoot all play long!

It was a bit weird that the curtain call was soo quick - i'm used to longer ones but with it being 1st preview it’s probably normal. They still got standing ovations so there’s that.

Stage door was very calm; not too many people (less than I expected tbh), and all very collected.

What was funny, that there was a person looking at me as if they know me. After a few moments of staring back and forth and them waving at me, I walked over.

“What name do I call you?” I asked as I had absolutely no clue who they were (IM SORRY IM OLD!)

“D. From the Rhys gig last year!”

Only in London!!! *giggles* That was soo very nice to run into them again, we had such a blast at the Rhys gig, but sadly they’d left before I could get their socials!

We chatted for a moment and then Michael came out!

*sighs* He’s sooo lovely!!! And so kind. He was rather tired which didn’t stop him from taking pics, writing autographs and chatting with everyone. (He had indeed cold feet, literally; I asked him *hehe*)

We told him how amazing he was, got our pics and autos, stuck around for a bit (I might have told Anna who waited for him how lovely she looked at the Baftas!) and then he was done, wished us a good night and lead Anna back inside for the party, I guess *lol*

We were very happy when we made our way back to the hostel (even though the stupid bus didn’t come the 2nd day in a row!)

For Sunday we only had the Jason and Paul gig in the evening… and a Tower visit I surprised my friend with! She’s never been, but I knew how badly she wanted to see the Crown Jewels so I got tickets for us, got her there under the pretense of meeting a friend and then just walked inside!! HER FACE was fucking priceless!!!

And DAMN, it’s really worth the price!!! At least for us. Never been INSIDE before, but if you like history and beheadings, this is for you!!! I LOVED the tour, the kids that were in it were amazed and a constant source of amusement to our guide!

I LOVED the Ravens! Getting this close to them without them being fazed at all, was cool! We spent about 3 hours in there before it was time for food and then heading toward the gig!

God, I missed live shows!!! Especially Jason and Paul’s - they’re always so much fun!!!

Still not over the fact that my last one was FIVE years ago; also in London and also around that time of year!

I had bought VIP tickets just BECAUSE and it was worth the insanity that are these two on a stage just dorking around.

They played a few songs and then started one somebody had requested during the tour.

I sat there, confused because I knew it somehow… but it wasn’t one of theirs.

And then it hit!!! It was a FLIGHT OF THE CONCORDS song!!! One I had just seen/heard a few days ago on my OFMD twitter!!!!

I couldn’t get it together; my friend thought I’d’ve lost the last bit of my sanity, and I couldn't stop cackling!!!

It was soo hilarious!!! I mean, Jemaine and Bret did that for a living but Jason and Paul’s faces while trying to get through ‘Business Time’ was sooo worth the money!!!!

youtube

Still not over that!!!

The general gig was as awesome as always!!! It’s funny tho how the love has shifted: used to be Jason who pulled the fans, nowadays it’s Paul!!! My boy’s come a long way!

We stuck around after, mainly because I wanted to say HI to Paul. But he’s in HIGH demand.

Still… when I walked past him and he saw me, his whole face lit up! It’s always nice to be recognized by your ‘stars’. Plus, we ‘know’ each other for more than a decade now so yeah.

I finally got my hug (and MAN, his hugs are the greatest, especially since there’s so much more shoulders there now *giggles*).

We chatted a bit, then he left for a bit, came back, I introduced my friend to him, we got our pics and more hugs and another brief chat (which is harder these days, too many people want a piece of him *hehe*) before we said good night and headed back ‘home’!

Always soo good to see them boys!

Monday was leaving day for my friend; we had a wander around before it was time for her to leave for the airport, and for me to head towards the Old Vic to catch up with an old friend! It was brief as she’s busy as hell these days, but it was soo good to see her and here’s hope the next meet-up will be a bit longer!

After that, I was off to see my beloved Victoria Palace Theatre again!!! I’ve sat in basically all seats by now, boxes, royal and grand circle, slip seats but NEVER in the stalls.

So yeah, 2nd row, smack in the middle!!! ARGH!!! SOO GOOD!!! I love that stage sooo freaking much and seeing it this close was AMAZING!!! Totally new cast but two! I squeed and scared people when I read the cast list in the foyer: Dom was still there: his Washington is sooo good and I was soo happy to see him again!!!

What made this evening even more wonderful was the adorably excited French man next to me. His very first time and he was sooo hyped! Once it started he had a REALLY hard time to control himself - his joy made my night!!!

After I sent him around to stage door and after picking up my things joined him; sadly Dom had already left but I played photographer for the french so he got his pics with some of the cast before we said good night - he called meeting me ‘very delightful’ which was 👀!!! Never been called that before!!!

One last sleep, and I was off home again. Thankfully I’ll be back very soon so saying goodbye wasn’t too hard.

As always London proved that it’s the most incredibly city in the world - I can’t wait to come back in June!!!

And this concludes my rather long winded tale of my first London trip in 2024!!!

#personal #london 2024 #michael sheen #paul carella #jason manns

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alittlebitgoofy · 1 year

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we were friends, now i want more (1/3) - (spice/luxx)

heheheheh i didn't mean for this to turn into a multipart thing but i wanted to post what i had and i won't leave y'all hanging on such a cliffhanger. so much gay shit about to drop i felt like giving these gals the build up for the penny to finally drop :)) many thanks to @fuckyeah-dragrace and @puppywritesthings for dealing with my tired ass writing and making sure it makes sense, and dealing with my constnat questions about the american college system (ily puppy thx bestie) ao3 link

Luxx huffed impatiently on her laptop as if that would solve the block that was this assignment. Fucking essays. Whoever decided this was important for a music class was an absolute ass.

Marcia glanced at them wearily. Luxx wasn’t one to half ass anything, always insisting it had to be perfect, the issue came with the self criticism. Even in the short time they’d shared a dorm together, she’d figured out that they were never happy with anything they did. There was always something to improve which was great until you had assignments due that you were never happy with.

The laptop slamming shut made them jump, watching as Luxx growled into her hands.

“This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Maybe you should take a break?”

“Maybe. Or I could just finish this and be done with it. If my brain would work.”

They let out an exasperated sigh, picking up the laptop and throwing it into their bag.

“Maybe if I go to the library I’ll get this done.”

“This late? Marcia glanced at the time. Who in their right mind went to the library at 11pm on a Thursday?

“Fuck it, no one else is going to be there and it’s 24 hours for a reason.”

“You do you I guess.” Arguing with her roommate was a lost cause. Marcia just shrugged, shooting Spice a text to inform her of Luxx’s actions. If anyone could talk sense into them it was her.

Luxx swore they would get this done, ignoring that it was due the next morning. They didn’t want to take the hit and admit something was beyond them.

Thankfully the library was as empty as expected, only a few people typing at laptops looking as tired as they felt. The change in scenery helped a small bit, progress happening slowly but surely to this piece of torture their professor called coursework.

Hours seemed to pass in the blink of an eye yet agonisingly slowly. She stared down the word count like it was trying to murder her. 500 words left. That was all she needed.

Just as the focus began to stray, Luxx’s phone buzzed. The brief flash of irritation faded to a small smile as they noticed it was Spice.

Spice: u ok? marcia said u went to the libry to do an essay

Spice: libray

Spice: library? hot girls can’t spell

Luxx: you got there in the end, I’m fine just want to die over this shitty essay

Spice: due tomorrow?

Luxx: yeah, it’s evil

Spice: how long did u have to do it?

Luxx: two weeks

Spice: evil

Luxx couldn’t help but smile at her phone. At least someone got it. Spice's lack of spelling ability provided enough amusement rto finish this damn thing.

By the time they were done, there was nobody else left in the library. Luxx glanced at the clock, cringing as it read 4am. Did it really take five hours to finish this thing? How could a stupid essay have taken her this long. At least it was done.

Not like she needed to be up for an 8am class. That wasn’t a thing. Not at all.

The world seemed to want her exhausted, running off barely any sleep and wanting to commit a crime if anyone looked at her the wrong way. Luxx wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for the weekend as they came out of class though knowing Marcia was with Jax in their dorm she chanced not having pda shoved down her throat and texted Spice to see if she was free.

Of course she got a text back in an instant, trusting that girl to always be on her phone.

Spice: sug is in class for a few hours, come hang out with me 🥺

Luxx: as long as no one is making out in your dorm im there

Even Spice was starting to grate on them a bit. Her relentless energy was usually fun but right now, all Luxx wanted was quiet. She grunted as Spice attempted to initiate conversation. They instantly regretted it as the black haired girl pouted, though her body didn’t seem to hold any tension or malice.

“Alright, I know what you need.”

Before they could question what that even meant and what the hell Spice was planning, she pulled them into her arms, leaning Luxx’s head on her shoulder as her hands became preoccupied stroking and being run through their head.

“If anyone else tried this I'd kill them.” She grumbled, though Spice just giggled in response.

“I know.” Spice chirped cheerfully, her relentless optimism making Luxx crack a small smile.

Thankfully Spice knew what to do. Now that she questioned it, Spice’s flipping on a dime was strange to say the least. How the hell did someone who got stressed out trying to figure out how much 3 items cost in a supermarket have so much emotional intelligence? It would be off putting if she wasn’t so warm, physically and emotionally. Seriously. Why did Spice’s cuddles always leave Luxx so relaxed? At last, their body gave in to fatigue, melting into Spice as she moved one arm to fall over Luxx’s back, circling small trails with her thumb.

It didn’t take long for Spice to notice the lack of movement in her friend. Truth be told, she’d noticed how tired Luxx looked the second their eyes met. She played dumb, knowing Luxx would end up letting her cuddle them to her heart's content and that was the easiest way to get her to rest.

—

Spice turned around as she felt a tug on her hand, Luxx looked down at the floor, as if making eye contact would make them combust.

“You think you could stay a little longer?” Her voice was quiet, tone not quite faltering but damn near close. Spice could feel the defeat in her, admitting to needing someone when she insisted she was fine alone. All the confidence and pride in the world meant nothing in that moment. Luxx finally glanced up, linking their eyes in a painful silence.

“You don’t have to. Fuck. Forget I said anything. It doesn’t matter.”

Spice didn’t speak, only moved back to Luxx’s bed and pulled them into a tight embrace. Luxx could only sit there speechless before letting themself fully relax into Spice. She was always the one to be affectionate and usually they just let her because it was fine. Not enjoyable, but fine. Right now though? She needed this. She needed Spice.

“Don’t try and deny it. You’re allowed to need someone. Let me take care of you this time.”

Something was different about Spice. Her usual thoughtless positivity was replaced by something a lot smarter. It wasn’t the first time Luxx had seen this shift, though it was the first time it was directed towards her.

She just did as Spice asked, knowing that she wouldn’t do anything wrong. Luxx let out a breath, leaning back into Spice as she pulled them down further into her arms. Somehow, only now did they notice how strong she could be. She always seemed so gentle and soft, someone Luxx wanted nothing more than to protect from anything and everything bad in the world.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the emotional vulnerability. But something felt different. There was an unspoken lack of boundaries, Spice content for whatever Luxx chose to do, letting her take control of the situation with a warm smile when she burrowed against her.

Luxx’s hands idly ran up and down Spice’s arms, that stayed wrapped around her waist. Soft hums accompanied the action, the black haired girl melting at the contact, squeezing them ever so tighter.

Something started to bubble up, threatening to break out of Luxx at any point. She hesitated, eyes darting down when Spice cocked her head to the side, analysing the sudden shift in their expression.

So many things she was trying to repress threatened to spill out. Her chest tightened, heart beginning to thud when things started to make sense and all of her awareness was placed squarely in the current situation.

“You’re so perfect.”

Luxx felt their body convulse as Spice spoke, stroking their hair away from their eyes as it fell in their face.

“You don’t have to be. I know you always want to be, but you are without even trying.” She continued, smiling softly as Luxx raised an eyebrow at her.

“You have everything anyone would ever need. You’re smart, pretty, you don’t let people step over you. Don’t think you have to work yourself to the brink just to be good enough. You are just by being you.” Spice’s tone was so genuine, dripping with so much affection when her eyes never left Luxx that they wondered if she’d been possessed. They wondered if this side of her was fleeting, if she’d be back to the girl who couldn’t sit for more than five minutes without mentioning dolls or getting sidetracked by the first interesting thing someone mentioned.

Spice’s presence was enough to put her at ease, Luxx just let out an agreeing hum into her chest, not quite trusting herself to speak. A warmth washed over her, replaying the sheer factual way Spice complimented her, like it was an everyday thing to comment positively on every aspect of someone’s being.

Sure, people called her pretty. People tried to flirt and lather Luxx with compliments they would shake off or just plain agree with. But the way Spice said it? Something deep within them melted when those sweet words came from her.

Time passed, soft whispers were exchanged between the two occasionally. Luxx’s brain was swimming, half asleep and wishing she could project her thoughts into Spice’s head without having to say a word.

“I love you.”

Before realisation could hit, Luxx had fallen asleep, leaving Spice reeling and ready to lose her mind over three little words. That’s a problem for another day though, Luxx finally resting was more important and sleeping with them in her arms was something she just wanted to enjoy for as long as possible.

#rpdr fanfiction #spice #luxx noir london #spluxx #s15 #rpdr #college au

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unholy-obeyme · 2 years

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STOMACH CHURNING

Note: This was done as a request for @iamtiredfinalsistheworst

TW: Blo*d mentions, Gore, torture, red room, if I left anything please let me know, it means a lot <33

Note 2: I’m so sorry this took so long! I hope this is to your liking!! Im sorry once again <33

You stared at the carnage in front of you being shown on your laptop screen. The room was red. The sight in front of you was unlike any other sight you had seen. It was positively, stomach churning. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the carnage in front of you.

A MONTH EARLIER :

“Mc?” “Yes sir?” “We have an ongoing investigation about the deep web, you may be aware” “I am aware sir, how am I involved in this issue though sir, if you do not mind me asking” “well, since you are in the cyber security department I’m handing this case over to you. I need you to alert us immediately incase anything, even remotely alarming, let us know immediately.” You merely nodded and walked to your desk as you opened your pc, ready for another round of browsing the potential dangers in the dark web. Hearing about it was one thing, but browsing it? It felt illegal. You even forgot you were a member of the cyber security department and that this was your job. The brothers and the royals, and the other students of RAD had been kind enough to let you off the hook since they knew how important this was for you. The brothers, and the prince and his butler were sitting with you, helping you find any suspicious links, or illegal sites while Simeon and Solomon were keeping Luke away from the carnage you all were about to witness. It was then Leviathan pointed on a link which seemed extremely suspicious despite the innocent url. Nothing could have prepared you all for what was going to present itself on the laptop screen. When you clicked on it, it asked for all of your details, which you filled, as you gave it false details to remain undercover. The screen loaded for a while, as the screen read:

ll WELCOME TO THE RED ROOM ll

Your stomach dropped as you immediately understood what you were getting exposed to. “Mc?” Asked Lucifer worriedly, as you immediately started trembling lightly. “I-it’s nothing.. I-I’ve seen plenty of t-this, I-it’s my j-job you k-know” you stuttered as you clicked the link and it led you to a room. It illuminated red, a man was tied to the centre of a bed, naked, while the wall was decorated with all sorts of knives and machetes you never knew existed. “Hey human…” Mammon stated as he and the others knew where this was going. You watched as the man was screaming in fear while there was another individual watching him scream in fear while asking the viewers their weapon of choice. The prince had a serious scowl on his face as he watched each and every one of those viewers and their sick chats. The carnage soon started as the individual dragged a rake all over the naked man’s body drawing blood and creating open gashes. To say you were scared, was an understatement. You were witnessing a live murder, that had existed much much before you were even notified of it…. How many people died at the hands of this man? The demons, however, were furious. Each and every viewer would be dragged to the deepest pits of hell as they watched the innocent man was killed, then his wife, and his kids…. It was then Mammon snapped out of his anger as he noticed you staring at the screen, frozen in fear, as your eyes, with tears prickling at the corners as you were trying to process everything happening in front of you. He immediately notified others about your distressed state by which the prince immediately closed the pc. Clearly you did not expect this. The others too, suppressed their anger and helped you calm down from your hysterical state.

Belphegor lulled you to sleep as he immediately held you close as you slept with small dried tears. “Why must you do this to yourself Mc..” he asked tenderly as the others bitterly retreated to their rooms. Your task can wait. What mattered the most was your mental and physical health and that’s what everyone focused on. You were granted a holiday to recover and the best therapist was on speed dial incase you ever needed help. But everyone could agree on one thing.

While, the entirety of the human race may not be as bad or twisted, this one was particularly

Stomach churning

#<33 #answers #obey me x mc #obey me #dark obey me

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dont-eat-lint-rollers · 4 months

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my buddy convinced me to make an animal jam play wild account since it actually still gets proper updates and so far my feelings have been. mixed. overall i havent done nearly as much as anyone else bc my account has existed for maybeee 2 or 3 hours? so this is just my first impressions. im also kinda biased bc ive been playing animal jam classic for years and years and YEARS. back when 9 + 10 = 21 was still unironically funny and every cool kid in class read warriors. might update this post with extra thoughts as i go along! all opinions below the cut bc this is an absurdly long post

ive only played a few levels of overflow (and it might be because i played on expert because i Definitely have no overbearing hubris casting a shadow upon my better judgement) but the gem payout being higher than AJC for each level you complete is a very welcome change (2 gems times X number, seemingly determined by how long your path is, vs AJPWs i think it was like 5 gems times X number determined by how long your path is? either that or like 10. idk i blew a whole half hour on overflow alone and it was almost 6 AM by the time i finished so my brains kinda muddled)

also, membership has become far less of an overbearing nightmare monster for AJPW in comparison to AJC! thats a good thing! personally i think that membership just Shouldn't but thats because i think any monetarily-accessed subscription anythings just Shouldn't especially in this day and age. i got to go to the clothing store and buy things i liked and i didnt just have to longingly stare at the paywalled options like a maiden gazing out to sea and it felt great

dont like how theres so many fewer options for shopping for Like Everything but its a far more ambitious game than AJC what with everything being 3d modeled, and its got a younger target demo and theyre usually happy with whatever looks cool, so it checks out. haha. funny pun that was intended definitely. whats there is also pretty great and the den item options you get started off with are both way more cool and way more More than classic in its hayday. idk about the ajc starting den items now though i dug my old account from the ashes of who i once was when i decided to pick classic up again. i dont actually remember if you start with any den items in ajc now that i think about it i might be misremembering. that still means play wild has that point against classic though. shame theres no water animals but they could maybe possibly be added in an update pretty please wildworks if by some miracle youre reading this i am begging and pleadi

really my main issue so far is with how many things cost real-world money. theres next to nothing that requires a membership to even be bought aside from one members-only map location my buddy warned me about beforehand -- which, as a reluctant f2p since literally like 5th grade, ive been playing this game for Far too long, i do genuinely appreciate -- but boy oh boy you can sure tell this was mainly developed as a mobile game. there is so much pay-real-money-for-trinkets stuff and you just Cannot disable that menu. at least let me get rid of the little button that tells me i can spend the hard-earned bucks on moms credit card to get 1/4th the amount of animals of AJC man thats all i ask of this part

also this is largely unrelated but can i just say i DESPISE how many things are like "hi heres a welcome bonus :) oh but you need to pay like 3 bucks for it. yeah its usually 5 but for a Special New Player Like You? its a steal!" like thats not a welcome bonus thats an entry fee. i know thats like a paltry amount of money compared to most things Just Ever but its also coming from a guy whos family usually has zero money to spare

#champ talks #animal jam #animal jam classic #animal jam play wild #wildworks #aj classic #ajc #aj play wild #ajpw #im the worlds number 1 overflow fan btw can you tell

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cherubicwitch · 7 months

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want to be desired and desirable but I also am thoroughly repulsed by my own being and existence, feeling as though I’m simply a tangled mess of underprocessed emotions that will never see the light of healing and acceptance. im guilty for existing, everything will always be my fault. I am both never good enough and yet too capable to not be used. have two degrees yet part-time jobs elude me. always a second choice. can’t even consume any kind of spicy media without wanting to tear out my insides bc I can’t help but to compare myself to everyone and everything around me. constant nagging thought of “I’m sure that she’s much hotter than me/thicker than me/sexier than me/more interesting than me/not as weird as me/softer than me/quieter than me” every time and it sticks in my brain as I think of more stupid shit that I thought I was done being upset about. I’m only just convenient and nice and subservient and I don’t know how to be any other way, so I sit. and wish that a tragedy out of my control takes me away so I can be done. so I can be a good dead wife a good dead sister a good dead daughter a good dead granddaughter. so everyone’s expectations of me can go away and no longer apply to me. so I don’t have to feel like I’m drowning and numb and yet overwhelmed with every emotion that a human can possibly bear all at the same time. so I can probably finally get an apology from someone as they stare down at my grave, maybe someone will say it out loud maybe someone will mean it maybe someone will beg for my forgiveness bc they know they hurt me. as a subservient kind and forgiving woman, no one feels like they really need to apologize bc I do forgive. and I always will but I just want someone to feel bad for hurting me and wronging me and I don’t think I’ve gotten very many apologies ever in my life. I’m supposed to just move on and forgive but where is remorse? no one is ever sorry for what they did, just sorry for getting caught or sorry that I felt that way. idk I have too much in my head and so much abuse from years that I’m trying to undo my horrible bad habits but fuck is this hard. it’d be so much easier to bury myself. I don’t know if I deserve any of this. I hurt people too from being a constant victim and passenger in my own life. I’m trying to fix that but it comes with being more connected with your emotions and not just pushing them aside and pretending they don’t exist bc you can focus on something or someone else. so now I’m trying to let myself feel things but holy shit it’s so much and these emotions are so big, idk what to do with them. but then I feel guilty for feeling. then I shut it down again and apologize for my outburst(s) and try to go back to normal bc I’m sure no one else around me wants to figure my bullshit out either. everyone else has their own problems, I shouldn’t burden them with me and my stupid emotions and issues.

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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omg wait no hold on I just requested overhaul but then I remembered your overhaul thirst post about him pulling a "curing hysteria~" as an excuse and thought I'd request something along that vibe (no oun intended). I think that'd fall under orgasm control, overstim? (hope this is okay!)

hysteria antidote - overhaul x fem!reader (4k)

seeing nothing but the same four walls every day of your life is playing havoc with your brain. overhaul thinks perhaps you're suffering from hysteria. he has the perfect cure for that.

cw: not sfw/minors dni. dark content!!! dubious/non-consent. captive reader. talk of death, blood, etc. medical kink, gloves, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm control. misogyny. mentions of pregnancy/breeding. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: idk the internet said the 28th of may was his birthday so consider this both a birthday fic and a fic to celebrate 6k followers, sorry that i am gross and horrible but tbh im having a great time <3]

You really don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to be going out of your mind.

Since the Boss was taken ill, and Kai – Overhaul, you remind yourself, though he’s always just a little less sharp with you when you trip over the new name than he is with anyone else – took over leadership of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ve been pretty much stuck indoors.

Considering that you’re pretty sure he only has fond feelings towards maybe three people in the entire world, including you, you guess you ought to feel special about it – but all it actually does is make you feel like a trapped bird, caged and restless. It doesn’t help that all of the other members of the organisation have started being weird around you; people who you’ve known most of your adult life, people who you’ve worked beside and killed beside and done other horrible things beside (for the good of the organisation, of course)--

But now, they look at you like you might break at any moment. They treat you like an invalid. Their brows crease when they see you out and about, quietly murmuring; “Shouldn’t you still be in your room?”, avoiding touching you at all costs. There’s a kind of fear in their eyes, that they’re going to be told off for even speaking to you, that they’re afraid of being caught close to you.

And you know exactly who’s to blame for that.

You’d tried to speak to him about it, once; you’d thought that perhaps he might be amenable to your desire to do something to help the Shie Hassaikai. He’s always wanted to restore them to their former glory, after all! But after you’d let out your little impassioned tirade, his eyebrows had creased over the bird-mask.

“You don’t sound well,” he’d said to you. “Go back to your room. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

You had missed, at the time, that he hadn’t said ‘we’ll talk about it later’. He’d just said ‘I’ll’. When he had come, that is how it had been; the reassurance that he was keeping you safe. That he didn’t want you to be tainted. That he was keeping you well.

Your quirklessness has never been an issue before, but it certainly hasn’t been a boon. Still, for Kai--

“It’s disgusting,” he’d said, agitated by the discussion. You’d stared at his hands, thinking about the destructive power he himself wielded. “Quirks are a curse, and you not having one is just proof you’re not infected.” He’d looked up, golden eyes piercing directly into yours. “I’m going to keep you perfect.”

Overhaul is not a doctor, for all of his talk about illness and disease and plague. You think he could have used his quirk for something meaningful, once; but you also know that his burning curiousity, his disgust of anyone who deems tainted, his utter lack of morality . . . those are all things that would not have been welcomed in the medical profession. So instead, he deals in needles and pills and altering drugs in the underground labyrinth of the compound.

Sterile rooms, with examination tables and scalpels and impersonal, silver-grey equipment. Pill boxes that rattle when he passes them to you and tells you to take three of those a day, one of those, that one has to be taken to with food--

The idea that you won’t take them doesn’t enter his head, and though he has never . . . overhauled someone in front of you, you have walked past other members of the organisation mopping and disinfecting blood and gristle from sterile flooring.

It is better to go along with him, so you take the supplements and the pills and submit to the way he grabs your chin in gloved hands on the doctor’s chair, tipping your face up to shine a light into your eyes and watch your pupils dilate. But inside, you are screaming.

You’re not made to be locked in one room, occasionally allowed out to pace the hallways of the upstairs – never the underground ones, not any more – with restless footsteps and your muscles fizzing with desire to taste fresh air. You’re not made to stare at the same walls and breathe the purified air and think about how empty the compound is, now that Overhaul is in charge of everything--

(Too many knick-knacks attract dust. Pollen allergies act up, if there are too many plants, and he hates hearing people sneeze. Furniture should be easily movable and barren, to assist in the twice-daily cleanings of every room that people walk through.)

But it’s getting too much for you. Suffocating. You feel like you’re choking on air all of the time; you take the pills, because the thought of what he could do to you is terrifying, but sometimes you wonder if perhaps it would be better if you didn’t.

You’d woken up that morning to the sound of rain hitting the high windows in your bedroom, and you had longed to go outside in your thin nightwear and spread your arms and taste the air, smell the rain, feel it hit your body in fat droplets. Your entire being had ached. You’d tried to distract yourself, with what little there was in the barren prison cell that you called a bedroom – but when the door opened at four thirty exactly, and Kai had stood there with his face as impassive as ever, you had not been able to stop yourself.

Hand fastening around his upper arm (you shouldn’t touch him, you know you shouldn’t, but the same four walls are getting to you), you’d begged him;

“I want to go outside.”

If anyone else had touched him like that, they would already be splattered against the walls and floor. But all you get is a furrow of his eyebrows, careful fingers (gloved, of course; the latex against your skin always makes you shudder) pinching at your hand to get you to let go of him.

“No,” he says. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t care,” you’re petulant, you know, frustration bubbling up in every cell of your body. “If I stay in here for one more day, I will tear myself into pieces.”

“You’re being over-dramatic.”

“Kai—”

“Don’t call me that.” His rebuttal is sharp. “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”

Your face twists into something ugly. Overhaul hates it when you do that; hates the way your brow wrinkles, your mouth moves, your normally lovely face (one of very few he can bear to look at unmasked and not feel as though he is going to get sick from merely breathing the same air of you) marred.

“You’re not,” you hiss at him. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked up! Because you’ve got some weird fucking ideas about what’s clean and what’s unclean, because you’re on a power trip, because you don’t care about other people--” Your voice is pitching and modulating, all of the things that you usually try and keep balled up inside of you spilling out that the floodgates of how unhappy you are is open.

You’re breathing heavy as Overhaul, clearly irked by what you’re saying, tugs at the wrist of one of his surgical gloves. If he’s going to kill you, good – at least it will be better than this, you think, your breath coming in short sharp pants after the outburst.

He lets go. His hands fall to his sides. His golden gaze on you is very level.

“You’re hysterical,” he tells you. An exasperated laugh falls from your mouth.

“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course I am. Do you know the last time I breathed fresh air?”

“Seven months, two weeks, three days.” He says it without blinking. Your shoulders tense. Has it really been that long? “You haven’t been ill once in that time. The world out there is filthy.”

“It’s normal to get sick,” you try and tell him, but Overhaul is moving forward; past the doorway, and into your room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound of a lock ominous. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with Kai in your bedroom.

In the medical examination rooms, sure. In his office. In common areas, back when he was just the boss’ troubled protege and not the boss himself--

His eyebrows twitch in disgust as he notices the dust on your bookshelves. You’d stopped letting any of the cleaners in here a month ago; you’d refused to clean in the mean time, taking whatever small victory against your captor that you could.

“You’ll give yourself respiratory issues,” he says.

“Good,” your voice is cold, but you realise you’ve backed away from him. For all of your attempts to stand up to him, you’re terrified. Everyone knows what he can do. “Better dead than here--”

Gloved fingers around your wrist, so tight you can practically feel them bruising.

“You don’t mean that,” he says. His voice has gotten softer, cajoling. You’re trembling in his grip. “I told you. You’re hysterical.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” you say, but your words feel like you’re spitting them out around a mouthful of gravel. “I—I’m calm--”

Your knees knock against your bed, but Overhaul is still clinging to you; still too close. Your heart is beating so fast that you can hear it pounding in your ears.

“You’re not. You’re hysterical.” He repeats it, calmly. The hand not on your wrist reaches up and cups your face, a gloved thumb stroking across your cheek as if you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. The scent of the latex is overwhelming. “But that’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He clicks his tongue behind the mask. “It’s mine. All of this checking for the physical sickness, and I didn’t think about checking your head.”

You fall onto the bed as his knees knock against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s just a plain, single bed; rumpled sheets, because you’d fought against any attempt for someone to come in and collect your laundry, too. Overhaul looks silly in your room, you think dimly; like a huge black crow in the nest of a small, frightened wren.

“If you fight,” he tells you, “I’ll disassemble you. I’d rather not. I don’t want to taint you by using my quirk. But . . .” He’s sinking to his knees in front of you, those same methodical hands pushing up the skirt of your dress. “If I did, I’d get a blank mind to work with. I won’t hesitate. But I’d still rather simply fix you without having to break you into pieces first.”

You know him too well to think that he’s bluffing.

After all of the vitriol you’ve spat at him, he’s unwilling to kill you. Would it be worse, to be mindless and brainless under Kai’s quirk? You’ve heard some of his failed experiments before; babbling, drooling, broken things. He’s killed them sometimes just to put them out of their misery.

What if he did that, and your mind remained perfectly capable – just utterly unable to communicate with your body? A prisoner in your own skin. Worse than even now. You swallow back the lump of fear.

“H-how are you going to do that?” You ask him.

You start at how cold the gloved fingers are on your bare thighs, as Overhaul pushes them apart. Cold fear prickles down your spine. You’re too scared to fight back, but everything he’s doing is making you want to run.

“Did you know,” Overhaul says, those same hands sliding higher, to tug at the waistband of your underwear. “In the past, there were rumours that doctors would cure hysteria by genital massage and stimulation?”

His words are very clinical, but there’s a thickness to his voice behind the mask that fills you with revulsion.

“It might be nonsense, of course,” he says. Your underwear is being tugged down, pulled around your thighs, your knees, your ankle. “They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth--”

“Kai—” Your voice is a soft whine, fear-filled. This time, he doesn’t snap at you for calling him by the name he’s left behind. He simply says;

“Spread your legs.”

You don’t want to. But you want to risk what he’s threatening you with even less, so you tearfully open them as wide as you can go. He shifts forward, and the tip of the beaked mask digs into your inner thigh as he studies you like you’re nothing more than a diagram, not a living, breathing person--

“Next time I’ll have lubricant ready,” he says, under his breath, and your heart seizes up at the implication that whatever he’s going to do to you, there’ll be a next time.

You start at the sensation of gloved fingers gently parting the lips of your sex, Overhaul’s golden eyes drinking in the sight of you spread open and bare. You’re shaking, but for some reason the way he’s looking at you – the utter concentration in his eyes – makes a curl of heat flare deep inside of you.

“Don’t,” you breathe, trying not to squirm. “Please--”

“I don’t want to have to,” he says. His tone remains calm, unbothered. “I’m doing it for your own good, you know that. Just helping you along.” One finger slides through the slit; the sensation of the gloves against your most intimate, heated parts makes the muscles in your thighs clench. It’s . . . not exactly unpleasant, but neither it is pleasant. “Do you think I’m getting any pleasure out of this?”

He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. You know this; everyone knows this. If this particular thought was so unpleasant to him, you don’t doubt he’d have found somebody else to do it (the thought of one of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai doing this to you fills you with even more revulsion than the idea of Overhaul himself). But you can’t say that out loud. Not after what he’s threatened. So you press your lips together and shake your head, gasp dying in your throat as one of Overhaul’s latex-covered fingers prods gently around your opening.

“You’re getting wet,” he tells you, as if you can’t feel the shameful slick beginning to leak from you. “That will make this easier. Good.”

You hate that the praise makes another jolt of arousal go through you. You don’t want to like the feeling of his gloves, rubbing at your heated cunt; the sensation of a fingertip circling around your entrance, brushing the bud of your clit and making you want to clamp your thighs around his hand.

He sinks the tip of one finger inside of you and you jerk, your hips out of your control as you try and sink away from the intrusion. Overhaul clicks his tongue again in annoyance at you. The hand holding the lips of your cunt open moves, to land on your hip and pin you between the bed and the wall so you can’t squirm again.

“I’ll sedate you next time, if I have to,” he says. “I’m not getting anything out of this. I’d prefer not to have to do it at all--”

He’s lying. You know he is. But you can’t call him out for it, so you press your trembling lips together and try to stop tears spilling out from your lash line as the finger inside of you sinks further and further inside, past his first knuckle, right down to the base.

He crooks it inside of you and your hands curl into the bedsheets, nails digging into your palms through cotton. His touch is curious, exploratory; has he ever actually done this to anybody before? He slides over a rough patch inside of you with the latex-tipped finger and a moan escapes your mouth against your will, your head falling back against the wall. Narrowed golden eyes look up at you as he repeats the motion; taking in the gloss of your lips, the widening of your eyes, the way your shoulders are shaking up and down.

You can feel yourself pumping more slick out; helping the glide of his finger inside of you, as he begins to carefully thrust it in and out of you. His touch is made all the more impersonal by the mask obscuring everything but his eyes and eyebrows; you can’t even hear him breathing.

Your cunt is fluttering around him, pleasure swarming you in breathless waves as he withdraws his finger entirely. He lifts the glove to his eyeline, looking only vaguely interested in how the white latex glimmers with your arousal.

“I’m going to use two now,” he tells you – and that is all the warning you get before two fingers beside one another are opening you up, scissoring your tight channel apart with an ache that you feel up to your hips. You bite back the whimper, but you’re unable to stop the choked breaths that are falling from you as he fucks you with them in steady, constant thrusts.

A covered thumb brushes your clit; swollen, now. Sensitive. Standing to attention. Your hips attempt to jerk in his hold once more, a strangled noise that’s neither pleasured nor pain falling from your throat. You’ve touched yourself, of course you have – even recently, just to try and assuage some of the boredom that fills your exactly-the-same days – but Overhaul’s fingers and thumbs and touch on you are so entirely different from that.

He continues his assault over your clit, those same eyes watching you with that same detached, clinical disposition that he’s had most of the time. There’s a cast to them that suggests there’s something more, but whatever emotion – if, indeed, he’s still capable of that – he’s feeling about having you at his mercy in this way has been pushed to the back of his mind as his thumb rolls and pinches at the bud.

Your body goes all-over heat, Overhaul’s fingers still pumping in and out of you, the slick noises of your shaming wetness echoing around the prison of the four walls you’ve spent seven months in. You’re teetering on the edge of something, hot and needy and wanting – and as Overhaul’s thumb sweeps over your poor aching clit again, you tilt your hips forward for as much stimulation as you can--

And he pulls his fingers out of you.

The heat fades into nothingness as you let out a noise of disappointment. Overhaul’s head tilts to one side, considering.

“What do you want?” He asks you. “Say it.”

No. You don’t ‘want’. He’s wrong. You keep your mouth pressed tight now that the damning noise has fallen out of it; you have managed to not let the tears trembling in your eyes spill forth. Your gaze meets his, defiant and tired and afraid all at once.

“Alright,” he sighs. “If you’re going to carry on being difficult.”

He does it again; his fingers plunging into you, scissoring you apart, rubbing against your folds with a practised agility now that he’s done it for the first time. He has always been a fast learner; always been observant. His thumb is back on your clit with ceaseless assault, and all over again you feel heat begin to build up; tension that crawls into every crevice of your being and worms its way deep inside you despite how badly you don’t want this.

The hand holding your hip loosens somewhat, allowing you to messily thrust your hips into Overhaul’s stimulation. You’re torn; you shouldn’t want to hump against the gloved fingers stimulating you, you should be wriggling and squirming away. But it feels so good; even with the skin-tight covering of rubbery latex, Overhaul’s fingers seem to find every one of your weak points and exploit them.

There it is again, building up on you; a ball of tension in your stomach being gradually wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips flex against his hand, your fingers clenching and unclenching on the bedsheet--

He denies you the peak of your orgasm for the second time.

And a third.

And a fourth.

“Kai--!” You’re too far gone to even think, after the pleasure has been pulled from you so cruelly, over and over again. The tears spill over your cheeks., rolling down in fat, shaming droplets. Overhaul’s eyes narrow.

“No,” he says, vehement – more emotion in his voice than you’ve heard all day. “You know what to call me.”

You know what he wants you to call him. You know that he wants to leave his old name behind, start again, be someone who can drag the Shie Hassaikai out of the shadows and into light and power once again – and he thinks that the name will help. You gurgle out a sobbing, strangled noise;

“O-Overhaul, please--”

Three fingers are plunged as deep inside of you as they can go, crooked to rub against your sweet spot; as Overhaul murmurs, detached but soft;

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

They thrust into you, his thumb rubbing your clit with firm, certain strokes – and this time, as the orgasm rushes up on you all at once, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you with his fingers through it, his thumb not ceasing the circling. Pleasure washes over you, finally, in great waves and crests. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, soaking him in your wetness (his eyebrows furrow again, at how close your fluid comes to spilling over his bared wrist; but you are too relieved to think about anything other than finally getting what you need).

Your hips flex, gasps falling from your mouth with every thrust of them – and you expect Overhaul to pull his fingers out of you. To stop touching you. Perhaps to strip off his gloves and put on a new pair – you know he always carries spares – and sneer at you as he walks out of the room.

But Overhaul’s fingers do not move from inside of you. The fierce rhythm of his fucking and petting and rubbing does not stop, even as the final aftershocks of your orgasm clench loosely about him and his constant stimulation becomes more of an annoyance than anything else on heated, sensitive skin.

You squirm, trying to push your thighs together to get him to stop touching you – but the hand not fucking you forces your thighs to stay parted with the curl of fingers into supple flesh, leaving you helpless to do anything but let him carry on touching you. Carry on fucking you.

A short, sharp shock of an orgasm rips through you as he swirls his thumb over your clit just so, and you realise that you’re drooling down yourself as well as panting; helpless and sloppy, utterly unable to do anything except lie there and take it until Overhaul decides he’s had enough of touching you.

You come, what? Twice more? Thrice? Until the pulsing of your channel is painful, your skin feeling red raw, your whimpers into the ceiling dry and broken. Only then does he pull his fingers out of you with a lewd pop.

A gush of your fluid that his fingers were stoppering soaks your bedsheets, and you watch, dazed, as Overhaul stands up. He looks down at you for just one moment, that stretches unbearably long in the heat-and-sex soaked atmosphere of the room.

He strips his gloves off of his hands, eyebrows twitching in disgust as he leaves the crumpled latex on your bedside table. He’s sliding on another pair as he speaks;

“Feel better?”

No. No, you don’t. You feel worse. You feel disgusted and violated and aching, your body over-stimulated and exhausted, sweat and drool and bodily fluids clinging to your skin. But if you tell Overhaul that--

“Yes,” you say, voice very soft and small and weak. You cannot see his mouth, but you see the way his eyes flash happily, the overall sensation of him smiling.

Why does Overhaul’s smile make you so scared, when Kai’s smile used to just make you feel warm?

“We’ll need to do it a few more times,” he tells you, as your blood runs to ice in your veins. “Such maladies aren’t cured in a day, after all. But . . .” He turns, rearranging himself carefully, his mask readjusted. You can’t see him as he speaks the next words. “I’d like to try some of the other suggested remedies, too.”

You think of his earlier words.

‘They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth.’

You’re never going to escape, are you? You’re going to be trapped in this compound until the day you die, and Overhaul is going to think that he’s keeping you safe--

“Take a shower,” he says to you, as he opens the door. It is not a suggestion. “And stop not letting the maids come in here to clean. I’m not having you get sick.”

You think he might be the sick one.

#overhaul x reader #yandere overhaul #overhaul smut #overhaul x you #chisaki kai x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #dark content for ts #5555 event fic #not sfw text #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #misogyny for ts #bnha posting #medical kink for ts #non consent for ts #dub con for ts #non con for ts

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Crash Course - Bucky Barnes

a/n: this one? im in LOVE with this fic and im not even ashamed of it. there is just something about the MC helping him get used to living in the new century and im a sucker for it. so please enjoy this fluffy piece!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: Bucky is a regular at the café where you work at and seeing him struggling with technology, you offer to help him, teaching him the basics while you are both thinking about taking it a little further than just a crash course.

masterlist

The time between the morning rush and lunch time is always quiet, the café is almost completely empty, that’s why Bucky prefers to go out during that time, tuck himself away in the corner of the small but cozy place, a black coffee steaming on the wooden table in front of him, his laptop or a book or his phone reserving his attention, whatever he decides to put his energy into that day.

Today has been a rainy day, therefore the morning was a lot quieter than usually, not many likes to make an extra trip for a coffee in the pouring rain, so you’ve been enjoying the calmness, the soft jazz music playing through the speakers as you are putting away the freshly washed cups behind the counter. As if he has an appointment, Bucky walks into the café with a laptop under his arm, his cap hiding part of his face, but you can still see the shy smile on his lips as he closes the door behind him, the little bell chiming for a second time at his arrival.

“Welcome back, the usual?” you ask as he heads to his spot.

“Yes please,” he nods, shooting you a thankful smile.

You try to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach at the sight of the man, it’s almost ridiculous how you still get nervous when you see him, even though he has been showing up every day at the same time for the past about two months. You just can’t help it, there’s just something in those ocean eyes and perfect manner he always treats you with, something you don’t often get these days. Not many take the time to ask about your day or wish you a good one after you hand them their coffee, but Bucky is different. The same question falls from his lips every time you appear at his table with his order.

“How has your day been going?” he asks when you place the cup next to his laptop that’s loading.

“Pretty quiet, the rain keeps people away,” you chuckle, hoping your blush is not as apparent as it feels. “What about yours?”

“Just the same as usual,” he smiles softly and you nod, though you have no idea what’s usual for him. He might be friendly and quite welcoming when he is sitting at the café, he often chats with you about anything and everything, yet still, you know near nothing about him and his life outside of this place. It’s clear he is the kind of person that prefers to keep things to himself, but sometimes you are so desperate for just the smallest crumb of information about him. With the lack of details, you often find yourself making up things about him, like what his favorite dish is, where he likes to shop, what shows he watches on the TV. You might be entirely wrong about all of these, but it’s all you have.

Moving back behind the counter you busy yourself with cleaning it off as Bucky’s attention shifts to the screen in front of him. There are only two more customers in there and they are quite locked away in their own world as well, a college student working on some kind of assignment on her second espresso and an old lady solving Sudoku at the table near the window, sipping on a nice latte.

You can’t help but glance in his direction every now and then as you move the muffins around on the counter. He seems deeply focused, eyebrows knitted together as he is clicking away on the computer. From the looks of it, he is solving some kind of enigma, but when you walk past his table you see that he has an email open on the screen, his cursor moving around kind of aimlessly.

“Not finding the right words?” you ask, stopping to clean the table next to his that was previously occupied by a young couple. His eyes snap up to you before he huffs shaking his head.

“No, I’m just… terribly bad at IT stuff and I’m supposed to “CC” someone on this email,” he explains, using his fingers to air-quote as he glances back at the screen. “But if I’m being honest I don’t even know what it means,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

You find it amusing, even cute that he is like an old man with these stuff. You’ve seen him struggling to type in a text message before on his flip phone that’s from the last century for sure and now this.

Placing the tray of cups down on the table you move over to him, taking the free chair next to him as you reach for the laptop, but you stop before touching it.

“May I…?”

“Go ahead,” he gestures with a nod.

You turn the device towards yourself as you click a few times, bringing up the option to send a copy of the email to another receiver.

“CC means that more people get the same email. You can put their addresses here. But you can also BCC people, in that case, the original receiver won’t see if the email was sent to others as well,” you explain patiently. Bucky tries his best to focus on the screen and what you’re saying, rather than the way your lips are moving and how badly he wants to taste them.

You haven’t been the only one feeling flustered and like a giddy teenager and Bucky didn’t choose this café as his usual spot for nothing. He spotted you the first time he stumbled in and the way you smiled brightly at everyone and the sweet chiming of your laughter made him want to come back the moment he stepped out that day. So he returned the next day and then the next day again… and now he couldn’t even imagine a day without seeing your eyes light up when he walks in while he can only hope you are just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

You help him send his email and you cheer in victory once it’s done and sent.

“See? It’s not as hard as it seems,” you smile at him gently, patting his arm that’s covered by a hoodie and your eyes fall onto his gloved hands on the tabletop.

“Yeah, I just have a lot of catching up to do from the past seven decades,” he mumbles under his breath, though he immediately regrets not keeping his mouth shut.

Your eyes flicker to his hand once again, then up to meet his gaze and he knows he just outed himself. He is expecting the usual: disgust, disappointment, even fear. That’s how most people react when they find out who he really is. But as he stares back at you, scared like a little kitten, you just smile back at him softly.

It’s not that you haven’t heard of the Avengers, because it’s impossible not to know who they are. You were just not expecting one of them to become a regular at your working place. The few times you saw him on TV he had long hair and his face was covered with a mask, so you’re not surprised you didn’t put the picture together. But knowing now who he is, you don’t see him in a worse lighting. If anything, you feel a little sad that he had to go through so much in his extremely long life.

“Well, feel free to ask any more questions. I’m not an IT guy, but I can help you with everyday stuff,” you tell him and he is in awe at your very normal, very sweet reaction. All he can do is nod as you stand from the table and grab the tray you abandoned not long ago, moving back behind the counter.

When you glance up your gaze meets his as he is still staring at you, nervous, a little anxious, but definitely relieved by your smooth reaction to finding out his identity. You shoot him a bright smile before moving to the table of the old lady who asks for another latte and as Bucky follows your frame move across the room he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips.

Your offer doesn’t stay unused. In fact, Bucky shows up at the café the next few days with a handful of questions for you, genuine ones, and a few he already knows the answer to, but wants to hear you explain them anyway. And you help him with anything, sitting at his table whenever you have a few free minutes between customers. He asks you about the internet, social media, online data bases and sources, going through a list from the little notebook he always keeps with himself.

The times spent with him are your favorite part of the day. You always look forward to whatever issue Bucky is going to bring up, fearing that one day he might run out of questions, but that just never comes. And you don’t know it, but your little sessions are the highlights of his days as well, listening to your smooth voice as you explain even the smallest things to him with so much patience, he is convinced you should become a teacher.

He thinks about asking you out every day, the question is always on the tip of his tongue.

What are you doing tonight? Would you want to go out with me? Do you want to grab a bite with me after your shift?

However he just never gets to actually say the words out loud. He is growing impatient with himself, he used to have no problem with asking girls out, but seven decades and another life as a brain-washed assassin later, this task feels way too impossible.

You’ve been telling him to get a smartphone for the past couple of days and though he seemed adamant, one day he shows up with a brand new one, still in the box.

“Oh my God, is that what I think it is?” you tease him with a dramatic gasp. Chuckling to himself he nods as he places the box to the counter while you are making the order of one of the customers. Today has been a little busier than usually, probably because of the special offer of 10% off from the new Cuban coffee beans your boss ordered in.

“I need a teacher to show me the ropes though.”

“Oh, Bucky, I would love to, but today is a bit crowded,” you pout as you put the lid onto the paper cup and hand it over to the customer, another one already walking in, eyeing the offer written on the black board behind you.

He didn’t even think you wouldn’t say yes, it never occurred to him that the timing might not be the best. You see as his smile slowly disappears from his scruffy face and your heart breaks seeing him like this.

“Yeah, sorry. Don’t want to keep you up,” he mumbles feeling defeated, but before he could grab the box from the counter, you put your hand on it, your fingers brushing against his gloved one, the tiny touch making both of you flustered.

“But how about after work?” you suggest and his eyes immediately light up. Spending time with you without any customers interrupting? That sounds like heaven to him.

“Y-you sure? If you have something to do, I—“

“Nothing to do,” you smile at him. You grab a napkin from the counter and a pan from near the cash register, quickly scribbling down your address before handing it over to him. “I’ll be home by seven,” you inform him as he glances down at your handwriting, noting how well it fits your personality. He then looks back at you nodding, as if he was just handed the best Christmas present ever.

“I’ll be there,” he smiles gratefully before stepping away from the counter and letting you work.

Five minutes after seven, Bucky is standing at your front door with a bag of Chinese food in his hands as he is trying to build up the courage to ring your doorbell. He found out that you live just a few corners away from the café, so he found your address easily.

“Come on, dude. Don’t be such a loser,” he mumbles to himself as he circles his shoulders before finally pushing the button. A short, buzzing sound is heard from the other side of the door and he stares at the 6B sign in front of you as he hears footsteps from inside. A few moments later the door swings open and there you are, still wearing the same clothes from earlier, a bright smile adorning your face as you beam at your guest.

“Come on in!” you gesture for him as he steps into the small apartment. “Tried to clean up a bit, but if I’m being honest I’m starting to grow out this place,” you chuckle as you push a box out of the way. It’s a small studio apartment with everything cramped into one space except the bathroom. You have a double bed pushed up against the wall in the corner, a small sofa with your wardrobe next to it, a TV, a tiny coffee table, a bookshelf and a dresser, a little dining table near the kitchen with three chairs and a pantry right next to the fridge that stands where the hardwood floor changes into checkered tiles. It really is a tiny space that holds a lot of stuff, but all the gadgets and clutter makes it cozy, lived-in, a place that’s so much like you that he feels like he is peeking inside your head as he walks farther inside.

“I brought dinner,” he shyly holds the bag up as you lock the door.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” you smile at him gratefully, because you didn’t really have time to buy anything on your way home since you had to make a quick trip to the post office after your shift, leaving you no spare time before his arrival.

“It’s the least I can do for all the help,” he smiles as you take the bag from him and bring it to the designated living room area of the place. Bucky joins you on the sofa and he thanks all higher powers your place is so small that you only have a loveseat, giving him the chance to sit close to you. Your thigh brushes against his as you hand him a box and make yourself comfortable as well, starting your feast while he asks you about your day, listening to your every word intently.

When the food is gone and you’ve grabbed two beers for the two of you, he pulls out the phone that’s the reason behind his visit. He bought a simple one, not at all one of the latest versions and it’s going to be the perfect model for him to learn the ropes on.

You help him put his SIM card into the new phone and then you set his account up before finally gaining access to the phone. You start with the basic features, showing him how to make a call or send a text before moving onto the different apps and possibilities while he listens to you as if you were talking about rocket science, but in a way, it feels like that for him.

“And here you can switch to the front camera,” you explain as you push the button and suddenly, the two of you come into picture on the screen. “Perfect for taking selfies,” you add with a chuckle.

“Oh, selfies. I’m not too good with those,” he huffs shaking his head.

“Because you probably haven’t found your angle!” you smirk. “Everyone has a good angle.”

“You think so?” you knits his eyebrows together.

“Mhm, look!”

Opening the contacts you go to yours, choosing the option to add a picture that will show up on the screen when you call him, and open the camera to take one instead of choosing from the empty gallery. Holding up the phone you position it so your good angle is in the picture before snapping the photo and saving it as your caller ID.

“See?” you smile at him before handing the device back to him. He just nods, even though he can only think about how all your angles are perfect to him and that now he has a picture of you in his phone. “Let’s take one together!” you beam and moving closer to him you take the phone once again, holding it up in front of you, trying to fit both of you into the frame.

Bucky tries his best to focus on the picture, but he can’t ignore how close you are to him, he can smell your shampoo and your cheek is almost pressed against his as you smile into the camera. The corners of his mouth curl up as his eyes fix at your reflection on the screen before you snap the photo. Opening up the camera roll you take a better look at it and it’s probably your favorite photo that has ever been taken of you. Mostly because he is in it as well, smiling so sweetly.

“It’s a good one,” you say and as you turn your head to the side you realize how close you really are to him.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, definitely aware of just the few inches separating the two of you.

“I-if you had an Instagram I would tell you to post it…” you stutter as your eyes flicker down to his lips, the urge to lean in and kiss him growing with each passing second.

Feeling a little dizzy, one of your hands fall to his lower arm, the one that’s made out of metal and your gaze drops to where you are touching him, a panic filled look flashing through his eyes.

He thinks that this is where the moment is ruined, where you realize the monster he really is and decide you don’t want anything to do with him. He almost starts to apologize for God knows what reason when you reach out and your fingers start to work on the straps of his gloves. It takes a few moments for him to realize what you are doing, and he tries to pull his hand back, but you grab it stopping him from doing it.

“It’s alright,” you smile at him softly, your eyes meeting his as you finish what you started and pull the glove off his hand revealing the metal underneath the leather. Then you move onto his other hand and do the same, dropping the pair of gloves to the floor as you take both his hands in yours, thumbs running across his knuckles, feeling the difference between his own hand and the artificial one.

You see his jaw flexing at the touch and reaching up you cup his cheek in your palm, making him to look you in the eyes. The strong and confident man you see sometimes is gone now, fear and hesitation taking over his expression as your other hand keeps holding his vibranium one.

“I’m sorry,” it falls from his lips as he closes his eyes for a second.

“For what exactly?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t have to hide yourself around me.”

“You don’t find it… scary?”

“Not at all,” you assure him. “You can’t be held accountable for what happened to you. Anyone who thinks differently is just an ignorant asshole,” you add grinning and it finally breaks his fearful expression, planting a smile on his handsome face.

Keeping your hand on his cheek you lean closer, your nose touching his but you stop before your lips could meet, giving him the chance to pull back. But he never does. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours, finally making the fantasy you both have been daydreaming about reality. He starts off slowly, savoring each other gently, getting accustomed to the feeling, but it doesn’t take long before the kiss grows hungrier and your tongues meet in the middle.

Your hands rest at the base of his neck while his find your waist, pulling you closer until you swing a leg over him, sitting on his lap as you smile against his lips. His kisses feel delicate and soft yet very passionate at the same time, you love the dynamic you create, tugging and biting each other playfully, it feels like kissing him is the sole purpose of your life.

When it gets hard for you to breathe you pull back, eyes opening and finding his flushed face as he stares back at you with bright, joyous eyes, his lips slightly swollen, already making you want to go back to where you were just a moment ago.

“Who knew selfies could be so much fun,” he jokes making you laugh, his heart fluttering in his chest at the sound that’s so dear to him.

“I’m glad you liked my crash course on smart phones,” you grin down at him, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Do you have any more questions?”

Smirking his hand, his flesh one, moves up your back as he presses you closer, your lips almost touching his.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” he chuckles before kissing you again eagerly.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky fluff #bucky blurb #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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