#i’ve honestly never felt more drawn to another person in my life

[starbuck]

i’m actually totally mentally fine now because a hot old man likes and respects me and hyped me up to rest of the community 😌😌

[longing-for-rain]

Out of curiosity, what makes you feel drawn to Zutara as a lesbian. Is it still relatable to you?

It does feel relatable to me. Obviously it’s a heterosexual relationship, but given the lack of good and complete representation of lesbian relationships in the media, I still gravitate towards certain aspects of romances like this.

There are many reasons why, but before I get into it, I want to preface this by saying that the point of this is not to say that Zutara is “lesbian coded” or anything like that so please don’t construe it that way. It’s a heterosexual relationship, period. All I’m saying here is what I, personally, enjoy about it as a lesbian.

The biggest reason I like it is because it represents female desire to me. I know the BoyMom and Pick-Me brigade hates that I’ve described Zutara that way in the past—but it’s true and I stand by it. That is the reason why Zutara became so popular and why its fanon narrative is almost entirely driven by female fans. It directly reflects their desire in a romance and what Katara’s canon one was lacking.

I honestly didn’t have strong feelings about Zutara until I saw the backlash it received. The narrative and the fans both treat Katara as if getting with anyone besides Aang makes her selfish, or that she’s neglecting some kind of duty by doing so. Katara’s voice and desire is fundamentally unimportant to the writers, because they always focused on Aang’s feelings over hers, and even though fans try to pretend otherwise, the dominant narrative surrounding this relationship has always been about Aang. How he needs airbending children, how his heart would be broken if she left, how he needs her to rebuild, etc.

And from Katara’s side, even though she never shows that she shares Aang’s level of interest, fans insist on reading in signs that aren’t really there. They also focus on logical reasons why they’d work. Aang is nice, he’s fun, he’s a prodigy like Katara, both have suffered in the war, etc. At first glance, it seems like a good match…but we never actually see the writing demonstrate how they actually connect over any of these things.

Good in theory, but bland and passionless in reality.

That narrative resonated with me in a bad way, because it’s exactly how I’ve felt as a lesbian. It reflects the pressures I’ve felt to put aside my desire for love to date a man instead. I’ve been told to my face that it’s selfish for me to “choose” another woman—a person I actually desire—over a man.

“What about children?”

“This is going to make your life so much more difficult!”

“Think of your family!”

“Jakey is such a nice guy, can’t you just give him a chance?”

“You have so many interests in common with Jakey and he has a good job! Why won’t you go out with him? It makes so much sense!”

“You’re so shallow, being fixated on looks. What if your perfect match comes along, but he’s male? Would you really say no?”

“You only want that because you’re a pervert. You need to stop being so obsessed with sex and think about the person instead.”

It’s eerily familiar, that’s all I’m saying. A lot of these ideas are used to attack Zutara and its fans nearly verbatim.

Katara isn’t a lesbian, but like a lesbian, Katara in the context of Zutara commits the crime of marrying for love and desire over duty. Some people see that as an evil act of selfishness, but to me, it’s just love.

We can’t control who we love, and I like to see the narrative of a female character breaking free from the social expectations placed on her to pursue it. No; Zuko isn’t the “safe” option, their relationship would be heavily criticized, and it could even endanger them. But that relationship is one they both feel passion for, and together, they would draw power from one another and use it for good. Their love and connection is powerful, and they would have fought hard for it. Because love is worth fighting for.

That’s deeply admirable to me, and an empowering narrative when I think about how I’m inevitably going to have to fight hard for any love of mine. But it’s worth it to me—it’s always worth it.

[uncommon-alterhuman]

I feel like I should share a bit about my personal experiences as being an incredibly uncommon otherkin from a primarily nostalgic to bring up to a lot of people source, and how it kind of merges a bit with my mostly unrelated kintypes.

For anyone unaware, I’m an Animal Jam Phantom fictionkin. I see so much about fictionkin regarding characters (a category of which I also apply), but I never see much about fictional species. I can understand this to an extent, but I can’t really see why there are so little for how large the fictionkin community is.

As for my experience, I’ve kind of always felt drawn towards them, that I was or am one. It doesn’t help I’ve always felt alienated when it comes to my social life, even though I imagine my kind as not hivelike, but rather similar to social creatures who live in groups, though. I’ve also had issues that make sense from the lens of a phantom, such as increased violent situations and a hatred for authority who wants to hate creativity and make it impossible. It makes so much sense to me.

The other thing is that the phantom part of me seems to merge with my other kintypes slightly, putting me at a very morally grey state on most levels. And when they merge, I feel dysphoria for both or all of them at the same time. It’s very rare I’ll see a dysphoric moment without my phantom type finding its way in. I also have another very obscure fictionkin species of which I am, leading to some crazy shifts at times.

I think I should make another ask when this is posted regarding the other fictional species of which I identify as myself.

Hello anon! A bit confused (mod often struggles with long asks /nav) but I think I get it! I have seen some others who are kin with fictional species, but it’s very rare and the last time we saw anyone like that was last year.

That makes a lot of sense. I think alterhumanity is a reason a lot of people never really fit in before. That structure also sounds interesting! But yeah, I understand that to an extent, though I dislike/disagree with authority in general.

This also makes sense! I think there’s actually a term for that, but I can’t remember right now, I might reblog this post with the term if I find it again. Shifts can be… pretty wild depending on the kin, and if you’d like/are comfortable with it, I’d honestly like to hear a more elaborate explanation.

I would love to hear about them if you decide to!

[idontplaytrack]

i fell asleep for 2hours bc my head felt heavy as hell but i just woke up to a bunch of comments from @frogs00 and @reneeswif3 and i nearly screamed maybe cried(im sick and emotional)‼️😬

i started writing bc i needed a way to cope with life’s stresses— more so in the last few years bc i was diagnosed with new chronic conditions after being disabled already since birth. so i was always lonely and made up stories in my head to entertain myself. home life’s honestly pretty messy so quite a bit of what i write into fics are drawn from real life experiences and emotions bc i believe that if i know what i’m writing it will make more sense. in a way, writing what i’ve written so far has given me closure on different things that i couldn’t have gotten elsewhere or in other ways bc it’s the main way i know how to deal with my problems.

i’m just so flattered and happy that people from so many places around the world connect with what i write and even like my writing — i honestly don’t know how to accept compliments like its lowkey scary to me — its a problem i have 🫥 i’ve met some of the sweetest people on here in such a short period of time and not gonna lie, you guys keep me going bc i’d just be having a bad day and y’all would like, comment or even reblog my fics. It just brings a smile to my face when I can’t.

Y’all would be surprised (maybe not) to know that my best friend is someone I have never met and lives halfway across the world from me. We met because of my Auli’i book on wattpad and we talk every single day now. She’s already been with me through so much (I’m chronically ill, everybody I feel like has run away from me or avoided me bc they don’t want to deal with a sick person and I get that. And sometimes friends just drift.) but she is just someone I appreciate so much because she isn’t afraid to be honest with me instead and ask questions. It’s so new to me but so refreshing because it’s forcing me to reflect and learn so much about myself.

People like you all that come across my works one way or another and leave an impression on my mind, I especially cherish because even a small gesture makes my whole day. I don’t even know exactly why I’m writing this much but at this point I’m crying and getting out what I’ve been feeling(you see?🥲)

okay, okay. i’m done. i adore yall, you lovely human beings. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[dotster001]

Congrats on the 1k followers! I loved your matchup you did for me not too terribly long ago and thought I’d really love to participate in this event too, I hope you don’t mind

This is in request of twisted wonderland fandom.

1. The one who I took the hand off first was Malleus. I favored him in the beginning because I freaking love dragons, and those horns! 😂 yeah, sadly I’m a dork. Anywho, he was tall, dark and mysterious. Who isn’t immediately drawn to that type of enigma? Then to learn that he was never invited to meetings and what nots, I felt bad for him. Poor thing 😭

2. I enjoyed Malleus only short lived though, Rook Hunt’s flirting is what freaking drew me in. Lord have mercy! No character makes you feel quite loved and appreciate like he freaking does! He’s heavy on the flirting and praise… kind of hard to not like that (especially when you are a social outcast and overall black sheep). So, Rook Hunt has been my Home Screen and obsession for literally longer than any other character in any Otome or game or anime that I’ve ever freaking obsessed over. lol! I get excited whenever he pops up in events and stories! I’m obsessed over him like he is with Leona and Neige! 😭😭😭 it’s so sad!

3. Rook Hunt-he seems to be the kindest and least judgmental character. His smile and laugh are freaking infectious! His flirting! His voice actor does him major justice, that voice makes me melt every time! As a person who is extremely socially awkward (outside of internet, apparently😂😂) it is nice to know that there is a character who can actually understand exactly what you are thinking or needing without you having to actually voice it (however it also makes you feel vulnerable too!)

4. I think Malleus and I would get along as friends and that would be it. I don’t feel like I need to miss him as I still quite like his character and I enjoy the conversations him and Yuu have. However, my heart quite literally belongs to another…though his love and devotion to Vil and Neige would totally make me jealous and possessive…so pathetic, I know 😭

5. I’m an Aries and an infp. I’m socially awkward and introverted, shy and quiet. I have ptsd, depression and anxiety from being bullied in school (from kindergarten to junior year), a narcissistic and neglectful mother and an abusive father (so I’m not very trusting of others it takes awhile before I let most people in my life and if I do let you in just know I trust and care for you and am fiercely loyal and devoted and extremely protective). I have long hair that I always dye red as it is the only color that takes and actually looks decent on me. I have freckles and hazel eyes and am 5’5 1/2. I love lord of the rings, Harry Potter, and am now freaking obsessed with Wednesday ( I’m literally a mix between Wednesday and her roommate Enid!)i love swords, storms, rain (cold dreary weather!!!❤️❤️❤️). I enjoy reading and love chamomile tea! I love music and singing (can’t dance but can sing). I love artists like Aurora and Naika, neoni, sia…do not like country or rap. I prefer night time, not a fan of sun or heat. I’m a solitude and quiet individual who prefers to observe and not interact.

6. I honestly would prefer to be with Rook. I’d like something romantic. I like yandere, but let’s face it, if it were yandere, I’d sadly be the yandere. I’m too freaking obsessive. Possessive, jealous and downright territorial! However, luckily I’m not the person to act on it. My moral compass is decent for one, I’m also too shy and timid! I have a tendency to also not believe that someone could really really like me (sadly that was beat into me). I’m more fantasy driven rather than action oriented. Good lord I hope I haven’t scared ya away!

Anyway, thank you so much for doing these stories for us, again I really loved your matchup and appreciate your story telling ❤️❤️❤️ so sorry this was so freaking long!😂

(no worries about the length lmao, I'm glad you enjoyed your matchup back in the day of a couple months ago 😂 btw, my dad got me a sign for my dorm that says "no entrance except on party business" thought you'd appreciate)

Im Which we See a Snapshot of how Rook Woos his Lover

Rook had first spotted you when he was hunting observing the Rois de Dragons. The two of you were sipping tea on the Ramshackle porch, and having a riveting conversation about gargoyles (Rook could perfectly read lips). The way your eyes were shining in the evening light, it was love at first sight. And Rook handled it as any normal person would.

"Bonjour, mon petit lapin! J'taime! May I join your conversation?" He said, jumping out of the bushes, and  sweeping his hat off his head as he bowed before you. 

Luckily for him, you didn't speak French, at least not fluently. While both of you were startled by the man from the bushes, you figured with Malleus you would be safe. So you allowed him to join you both.

Four months later, you'd fallen for him just as hard as he'd fallen for you. He'd slowly lured you in with the biweekly hair touch ups and his tongue of gold.

Now that you were together, the hair touch ups might be a little too much for your heart.

One thing you could say about Rook, was that he didn't cheap out on hair dye. Honestly, you probably didn't even need to touch it up so often, but it had become a pattern that when the roots started to show, you would hang out in Rook's room after class as he did your hair.

He would apply hair dye while whispering compliments directly into your ear.

"Your eyes are glittering today with the stars that have bound us together. Tres magnifique!"

He would also hum, as he applied the dye, then washed it out, usually giving you an extra scalp massage as he did so. (You still couldn't decide whether teaching him "The Edge of Night" was good or bad).

He would blow dry your hair, and as he maneuvered the dryer, and your hair, he would gently caress the skin he touched.

By this point, his compliments would be slowly devolving into completely French.

"Ma Cherie, you are truly le plus bel être à avoir jamais vécu."

Then he'd press a kiss behind your ear, and whisper something like,

"Were I a meilleur poète, je pourrais te dire à quel point tu as volé mon cœur."

Then he'd slip himself into your lap, and tap your nose playfully while whispering into your neck,

"tu éclaires le monde et dissipe toute l'obscurité et l'ombre dans mon coeur."

He would continue working his fingers through your hair, as he waited for you to get more and more flustered under his touch. He wanted to kiss you. Badly. But a good hunter makes his prey come to him. 

And you always did, as he whispered in French to you, and nuzzled deeper into your neck, pressing soft kisses wherever his mouth landed.

"Rook."

You would always softly whisper his name. He would pull away and look into your eyes with a truly innocent expression.

"Mon lapin?"

Then you would give him an epic pout, and mutter something like, "I know what you're doing. Just kiss me already, you sadist."

He would gasp in mock surprise, and run his thumb along your pouting lips.

"Je suis desole! I have been so focused on your hair that I have neglected you! Ah! I am truly a heartless lover."

You would scowl at him, and be about to remind him that he was teasing you the entire time, but he would always cut you off with a kiss. Which would turn into two kisses. Which would become a cuddle pile of kisses that would last until the door would open, and you'd hear a proper melodic voice call….

"Oh for seven's sake. There's no need to do this every other Tuesday."

Ah, Vil. Ruiner of all the good times.

[coffee-deer]

A lot of words about romantic ships in Doctor Who

I’ve always found it both funny and, honestly, inexplicable that I care for every canonically established romantic (or anywhere near romantic) relationship in Doctor Who (with the exception of Micky and Martha because let’s be honest, it was lazy writing, RTD pulled this one out of his ass).

the reason I find it so weird is because I’m used to not having relationships I’m heavily rooting for or emotionally invested in, even in the stuff that I like. I’m used to feeling lukewarm attachment to the canon-approved ships even in my favourite TV-shows.

in Doctor Who, though? I can bawl my eyes out even because of the pairings that are not necessarily my OTPs - just because *every* ship strikes a chord. 

Nine and Rose - because it’s the way he finds hope and meaning in her after going through war and sacrificing his own people, and the way she finds a better way of living her life through traveling with him, and you were fantastic and you know what, so was I

Mickey and Rose - because even though eventually they both get that it’s not meant to be he’s there for her every time she needs it

Jack and the Doctor - because it’s the longing for someone unattainable and even though you’re this dashing, now immortal, captain from the future, you’ll run toward the TARDIS with his severed hand in your backpack (and they say romance is dead)

Ten and Rose - because it feels like spring and butterflies and every romantic fairytale ever told, proper stuff of legend, and then it’s the sweetness of the heartbreak and Rose Tyler, I...

Martha and Ten - because even the smartest girls can fall in love with someone they totally shouldn’t because he’s clearly not over his loss and won’t stop comparing you to his ex, but it’s so beautiful and powerful when they finally see their worth and are able to walk away without bitterness but with fondness and a smile on their lips

TenTwo and Rose - because I’m a little fucked up and I like to think of them in terms of “what if it never worked out and they broke up or even divorced and there’s this sense of unfulfilled promise that doesn’t go away”

Amy and Rory - because they’re the Ponds, because she chose him and because for him there never was any other choice, together or not at all

Madame Vastra and Jenny - because I’m a lizard woman from the dawn of time, and this is my wife

the Doctor and River - because she’s like Time itself, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey, and who knows, maybe he trusts her because he always trusted her - because that’s what had already happened when he met her for the first time, - but isn’t that awesome? 

Eleven and Clara - because they’re both drawn to the impossibility of each other, and she tries not to fall in love with him, sometimes twice a day, and she’s just perfect, perfect in every way for him, Clara, my Clara!

Twelve and Clara - because nothing is simple any more and then everything is, and do you think that I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference? and then it’s 4.5 billion years of refusing to say goodbye and the laws of Time put at stake because of one heart that won’t beat again and people like me and you, we should say things to one another, and I’m going to say them now...

Bill and Heather - because everywhere she went, she always wanted to leave, but then can I come, too? and maybe yes, definitely (god I wish we had more of them!)

Graham and Grace - because what is grief if not love, persevering, and their story, however brief, felt like a promise that love can find you late in life, in the midst of the worst times of your life, actually, and light the way forward

Thirteen and Yaz - because WWTDD and you’re the best person I’ve ever met and we can’t have a universe with no Yaz! because it’s such a human heartache when the Doctor begs her to leave things as they are and Yaz will never ask for more even though she yearns for it, and maybe if there was more time, maybe, maybe - but even as it is, they’ve changed each other for the better and then were able to let go  

the Doctor and the Master - I will die on this fucking hill but yes, because it’s a romantic kind of love and a platonic kind of love and a psychotic kind of love, it’s friendship and rivalry and hate, it’s codependence and abandonment, disappointment and hope and second chances for the hundredth time because she’s different, and then texting via atrocities again because how else would I get your attention?

(I’ve only listed confirmed romantic relationships and the ones that I see as romantically coded - no disrespect to any frienship in DW, they’re just not the point here, as I’m always a sucker for a good friendship, in every show ever.)

(I’ve also only included New Who pairings since none of my ships in Classic Who were confirmed as romantic ones, but I'll just say that for some unknown reason I shipped Steven and Dodo, was absolutely feral for Two and Jamie, had feelings for Three and Liz, and as for EU, don’t even get me started on Eight and Charley, okay)

[algolagniaa]

random thoughts about spirituality and sadomasochism

I’ve always been drawn towards hippie dippie new age peace and love and light and unity and we’re all connected and communing with nature type of spirituality, but I’ve never fully been able to embody that energy in large part because whenever i try it has felt like I’m faking it. reasons it feels like I’m faking it are 1) lack of empathy 2) wanting to kill people/liking hurting people sometimes and 3) EXTREME MASOCHISM, to the point where it’s actually gotten in the way of relationships even when I was actively trying to “heal” my sexuality. and I’ve always felt like those 3 things were keeping me from being the spiritual being I wanted to be. a few weeks ago I went to a meditation retreat where I did some healing around that (basically realized faeries are very far from beings of pure goodness so there’s no reason I need to be) however it wasn’t until my experience on Monday that it clicked for me how these things - and sadomasochism specifically - actually fit with the whole connection thing very well.

my view on spirituality/magic/the nature of the universe has always been: everything is part of a larger whole. studying biology rn is REALLY backing me up on this honestly. even atoms have a structure where lots of smaller parts come together to make a whole, cells have a structure where lots of smaller parts come together, the human body has this, society has this, the ecosystem, the solar system….. no matter how much you zoom in or out you will see lots of beings, both living and not, working together (consciously or not) for a collective purpose. problems with human society nonwithstanding, we are all meant to fill a role in the larger universe that involves connection with the rest of the world. if you’ve read any tumblr posts I’ve made ever you know that this is something I have always found very difficult. however I HAVE always found connection through sadomasochism, as much as people wanna tell me that it’s only hurting me (and I do see their point) it’s always been something beyond PURELY sexual for me. I mean it is still very sexual obviously. but I also experience it as like….. an opening up and giving all of myself to someone. complete surrender, dropping all acts and putting all walls down, just existing in the moment and feeling and hurting and allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone else and knowing that this person WILL hurt me and inviting it and delighting in it (more on this later) instead of trying to prevent it. that’s not to say that every sadist receives it this way (one of the reasons I have trouble dating) but it is why I have found it impossible to just stop having a kink.

when I first astral projected I told many people (really only 3 plus all of tumblr which doesn’t count, but whatever) that I was God. and that wasn’t wrong exactly but having some time to think about it (and not being on mushrooms anymore lmao) it wasn’t exactly right either. what I experienced was a perfect union with God. a knowledge that we are made of the same stuff and that she (I very much experienced God as a she) loves me deeply. my soul left my body and joined God in another dimension that I will not be trying to describe here because it’s absolutely indescribable, I’ve already tried and words fail me, but first I very much experienced God “cracking” me open and letting my soul out, and honestly in the moment I thought about the girl I’ve been excited about lately and I thought about vivisection and torture. and it all clicked together that actually my longing for that and my longing for spiritual experience are one and the same, or at least not so far apart as I had thought.

then the experience of being in that dimension was so much. I can’t even tell it in a linear way because so much up there was not linear. I don’t think time really existed? but one thing that happened is I SAW how the cycle of life and death works in a way I’d never seen it before. without a living body I got a new appreciation for everything living bodies do, is the best I can say it, and that appreciation extended to every part of life - even the gross shit. and I came to understand death, too, as not an end but simply another part of a living creature’s life cycle. this is something I already thought intellectually but never understood in the same way. and I could’ve stayed in this dimension forever but I realized I didn’t want to. it is where I belong and I’m going to go back there at some point. but I’m human right now and I want to keep being human. and I think the reason im even here is to experience exactly what it is to be human, and to live life and experience pleasure and pain and eventually die. I am here to get the entire human experience and I want all of it, including the parts that suck or are gross or intense or painful or scary for other people, because when I’m not human anymore I won’t get to have any of it. pain IS a pleasurable sensation for me because it means that I’m feeling, and I want to feel everything.

the lack of empathy makes more sense now too but I’m not going to go into that too deeply because it sounds cuckoo bananas even compared to the rest of this essay. but I will say that I think wanting to know what it is to be human is the same reason behind wanting to hurt people. it’s the same reason I like psychological experiments, on both me and others. I want to see what makes people tick. I want to see who they are with all pretenses dropped, same as I want to experience the same myself. the other reason is ofc the libran desire to make things even but I’ve actually felt so much less of that since coming back into my body. I think I did actually genuinely gain empathy or at least a lot more understanding for the people who have hurt me in my life.

also not quite related but everything is so much less boring now. I still feel detached and disconnected from everything but it is FAR less, and much easier to make myself connect when I want to.

[moonofvandar]

Punchline ~ Rebirth

A short piece I recently wrote featuring Punchline. Set sometime after her trial and after she's left the Joker, but before she hooks up with the Royal Flush gang.

Not my best piece of writing, but I think it's okay and it was more of an experiment to try and get into her head. I might rewrite this sometime.

“Episode fifty-three: Rebirth.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve recorded one of these. I thought I had finished this little side project. Documenting the history of the Joker? Trying to get to the center of the mysteries surrounding him? God, I was such a stupid girl back then. I never imagined I would end up at the Joker’s side. I never imagin…I never thought th…goddammit.”

With a frustrated sigh, Alexis grabbed her headset, ripping it from her head and tossing it to the floor below. Ever since her trial, ever since she had gotten off scot-free for the crimes she had committed during her time as the Joker’s protege, something had seemed off. Something was bothering her.

She was listless.

She was bored.

Those months she had spent working alongside the Joker, helping bring his particular brand of chaos and madness to the streets of Gotham City…those had been the greatest months of her life. She had never experienced a pure thrill like that in her life, and now that everything was seemingly over, she felt empty inside. She had gotten away with everything and had walked free from Gotham’s courthouse, but in the weeks since her trial, she had been alone. She hadn’t heard a single word from the Joker, nor had she received any sign that he even remembered she existed. 

Honestly, after all her research and studying into him and his history, she should have expected as much. The feeling of abandonment still stung, though. It cut her deeply, almost as if she was being stabbed through the heart with one of her own deadly knives. After everything she had done for him, was this how it was going to end? Forgotten and abandoned as if she was yesterday’s trash?

What a cruel fucking punchline to the joke that had become her life!

With trembling hands, Alexis reached out beside her keyboard, grabbing the crumpled pack of cigarettes she had left lying there. She never smoked at the computer. She cared far too much about her gear and her recording equipment to risk ruining it with her bad habit, but tonight? With the mood she was in? She didn’t care. She honestly didn’t care.

Pulling a cigarette from the pack, she jammed it in between her dark-painted lips, before grabbing her lighter and raising it to her mouth too. Her eyes were drawn to it, emerald spheres watching as the flame ignited, setting alight the thin cylinder that rested between her lips. Tilting her head backward, she then inhaled, taking a long drag before exhaling again, watching the slow spiral of smoke as it rose toward her ceiling.

She had tried again and again to do something, anything. A video for her YouTube channel, to let her fans in Gotham know that she was okay. Short clips for her TikTok. A new episode for her long-since-finished podcast. None of it felt right though. She couldn’t find the proper words, the right message for her work. It was that gnawing feeling of abandonment eating her up. It was throwing her off of her game. How could she talk about herself, how could she open herself up again to her fans when the one person she needed the most wasn’t there?

And there it was. The moment of realization hit her like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking her from her computer chair. Her obsession with the Joker, the single-minded pursuit of him…she had become dependent upon him. She had become addicted to his presence and his praise. She had to laugh at the thought. After everything she had been through in her research of him, she had fallen right into the trap that she had sworn to herself she’d avoid! 

God, she was such a stupid fucking girl!

She took another drag from her cigarette and blew her smoke upward again, her lips beginning to twist into a small smile. Did she really need him, though? What more could she learn from the Joker? She had fought by his side, she had learned his ways, but what had she really learned from him?

He was too single-minded. He could have brought Gotham to its knees and shattered the entire foundation of the city like it was nothing, but his obsession with Batman had led him astray. He was so busy trying to get into the head of one single individual that he had forgotten the game. He had forgotten what his own purpose was. Just like the Joker had let his obsession distract him, in turn, Alexis’ own obsession was ruining her own path.

No more.

It was time for Alexis Kaye to go her own way.

She slowly turned her head toward one side of her bedroom, her smile twisting into a wider grin as she laid her eyes upon the outfit hanging on her wall: her Punchline outfit, clothes she hadn’t worn since the final day of her trial.

She knew what she had to do.

She knew where her future would lead.

She had to spread her own message through Gotham, a message of chaos and anarchy that would make even the Joker stop and stare in awe.

Alexis Kaye had to die, and Punchline had to walk the city’s streets once more.

Reaching down to the base of her chair, she snatched the headset from her feet and raised it up, sliding it back onto her head. She took a moment to adjust her microphone, then leaned forward and tapped the space bar on her keyboard to start her recording program. She waited for a second, and then another, then spoke up, the goth girl’s voice bright and full of an energy it had lacked before as she once again began to record a new episode of her podcast.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, but so much has happened lately. I felt like I needed to connect with all of you, my lovely and loyal fans, and let you know on a personal level what’s been happening in my life lately.”

“Episode one: Rebirth. Welcome to the Punchline Podcast…”

[liminalpsych]

Treasuring the cringe

tl;dr: I found out that people are still reading a niche fanfic I wrote over the course of my entire adolescence, roughly two decades ago. But writing that story very literally kept me alive some days as a depressed, closeted teen, and so I treasure the story and have left it online even though I find it painfully, embarrassingly cringe-worthy at this point in my life.

Full story:

Just the other day, I joined a Discord about fanfic from my very first active fandom. I wanted to see what the fandom was like nowadays (I was honestly surprised to stumble across an active Discord server) and if there was anyone from back in my day. *shakes cane* “Back in my day” (in the fandom) was 1997-2005 or so. Maybe even later, through some of college. Age ~11 or 12 onwards.

I mention all of this, and the person in the chat says, “I think there’s not a lot of people here you would know of — most of us are new, young people who might not have been born in 1997” lololol okay thanks, I’ll just feel old then*.

They ask me if I’ve got any experience with fanfiction in the fandom. I answer yes, because my longest story I ever completed was in that fandom (worked on it from ~13 y/o right up until I turned 19), at ~110k words or so. They ask for a link.

Me: Ahahaha oh no, i wrote it over the course of my high school years and it’s … not held up but uh. Might still be on ye olde FFN, lemme see if I can find it

Me: anyway, please don’t judge me, I was young and dealing with a lot 😉 *links the fic*

Other person: Oh look it’s that one!

Me: oh no

Them: I’ve read it multiple times!

Me: oh whew

Them: It’s the top place on the TV Tropes Fanfic Recs page for the fandom

Me: …I can never show my face in the fandom again.

Another person chimed in with a very lovely reframe: "Be proud of younger you, for if not for them you would not be the person you are today."

Which is indeed a large part of the reason I haven't deleted that fanfic from the internet. Certainly it's divorced from my current internet presence, because I find it painfully cringe-worthy, and still get embarrassed when my memory presents me with some of the more questionable plot choices.

But when I felt the most despair, when I just wanted everything to stop, when I wanted to just not feel like this anymore, I grabbed onto any silly little thing to keep going. Just one more day, and then another.

And the fact that I hadn't finished the story was one of those silly little things that kept me going.

"I can't die yet, I owe it to my characters to finish their story."

"I can't die yet, people have been reading this story and deserve to get an ending to it first."

"I can't die yet, then I won't ever find out what happens." (I was a pure discovery writer/pantser at the time.)

So I let it stay up, because it was an important, influential part of my life, and in a way it saved my life on multiple occasions. And a story written over the course of several years, during a time of rapid personal growth and identity development, is a fascinating reflection of the that process.

I look back and I can see the anger I was denying in myself, the anger I couldn't express in my daily life, all expressing through the main character. I see an exploration of the relationship with my parents and authority and imposed morality and the hypocrisy of the structures imposing that morality, all things I was struggling with at the time. I see a reflection of my own trauma, the toxic family dynamic I grew up on, drawn in abstract allegory without even realizing it. I see the struggle with my own sexuality, closeted even to myself but showing up on the page. I can even see hints of my still-in-the-egg gender identity showing up in some of the narrative choices and POV characters, though I don't think anyone else would recognize it as such.

15-20 years later, I'm in such a better place. I'm consciously aware of many of the things I was subconsciously or unconsciously expressing as a teenager. I have a lot more hope, and a lot better relationships with myself and others now.

If you have access to your very early writing, it can be a cringy but valuable, insightful process to go back through it and see what you notice now. Things that were subconscious or unconscious at the time, but showed up in your characters, storytelling, genre, plot, dialogue.

* I don't actually have qualms about getting older. I was the youngest in my various friend groups for most of my life, so it's nice not to be the young one anymore. And you could not pay me enough to go back to my adolescence or my 20's. My thirties have been pretty great so far. I expect my forties will be pretty good too.

[hoggleswart]

bemyhcro  asked:      1    &    5    &    15

when  were  you  first  introduced  to  tumblr  rp    &    do  you  remember  how?

an  embarrassingly  long  time  ago!  i’m  tempted  to  say  2013,  but  it  could’ve  been  even  further.  a  friend  i’d  roleplayed  with  on  other  platforms  introduced  me,  which  was  super  helpful  because  it  was  definitely  different  to  anywhere  else  i’d  written  before.  i  initially  started  in  a  harry  potter  group  roleplay,  which  then  extended  to  indie,  fandom  groups.  it’s  probably  the  only  place  i  really  roleplay  now,  alongside  discord.

what  character  have  you  never  written,  but  have  wanted  to?

i  love  this  question.  i  always  have  fun  with  this  question  because  my  answer  is  usually  never  the  same,  depending  on  what  or  rather  who  my  brain  has  decided  to  hyperfixate  on  recently.  from  a  nox  perspective,  gregory  goyle  has  unexpectedly  entered  the  chat.  he’s  just  been  kinda  chilling  out  there  for  a  while.  lee  jordan  is  a  repeat  answer,  because  the  boy  never  leaves.  no  specific  character  in  mind  for  this  one,  but  i  do  keep  thinking  about  building  a  character  around  the  life  as  we  know  it  plot.  something  along  the  lines  of  godparent  becoming  official  guardian  after  losing  their  best  friends  in  the  war.  honestly,  my  mind  is  constantly  filled  with  people  i’ve  thought  about  writing  here.

what  is  your  favorite  dynamic  trope  to  write?

find  me  a  trope  that  i  don’t  love,  let’s  start  there.  the  more  cliche,  the  better,  imo.  some  of  my  personal  favourites  though,  the  ones  i  become  easily  obsessed  almost  instantly  are:    the  unexpeccted  pair.  i  love  when  two  characters  who  are,  at  first  glance,  so  completely  opposite    /    so  apart  in  their  lives    &    their  aspirations,  and  their  personalities  are  not  compatible  in  the  slightest,  but  somehow    …    they’ve  found  each  other,  and  it  works.  it  shouldn’t,  but  it  does.  the  i  don’t  care  about  anything  or  anyone,  but  for  you,  i’d  set  fire  to  the  fucking  world  trope.  i’m  almost  certain  i’ve  mentioned  this  before,  but  i  will  slam  my  lil  hands  down  on  the  desk    &    mention  it  again,  because  this  trope  is  everything.  give  me  a  morally  grey  character  who  is  selfish,  who  is  closed  off,  who  would  never  normally  leave  themselves  so  exposed  and  let  them  be  so  irrevocably,  almost  painfully  in  love  with  another  that  they  don’t  quite  know  what  to  do  with  it.  it’s  destructive  and  it’s  chaos,  and  i’m  drawn  in  every  damn  time.  this  one  is  like  oxygen  to  me,  i  need  it.  i’m  trying  to  think  of  tropes  i  haven’t  previously  mentioned,  so  i’m  gonna  give  my  third    &    final  shout  -  out  to  childhood  flames  reunited.  i  love  a  first  love  revisited.  a  relationship  that  felt  so  strong  at  the  time,  because  it  had  never  been  experienced  before,  that  even  as  adults    …    it  still  lingers.  give  me  all  the  tropes.

[youcantwaitforsnow]

12.27.22

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”  Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere​ for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

[erodasfishtacos]

harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles

Through Hell and Back

warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.

PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

—

Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.

His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.

He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”

Harry already knew she wasn’t.

Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”

If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.

“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.

Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.

—

“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.

She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”

“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.

YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”

He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”

YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”

“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.

He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.

He does that every week without miss.

Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.

She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.

Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.

One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.

“Why?”

Harry frowns, “Why what?”

She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”

“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”

YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”

And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.

Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”

He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.

Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.

When she felt broken, well so did he.

—

“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.

“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“

“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”

Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”

—

He was still doing all he can.

“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.

“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.

Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.

“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.

“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.

He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.

“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.

“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.

He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”

Harry holds her for a very long time that night.

-

With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.

Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.

It was nearly three in the morning this time.

Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.

He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.

Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.

Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.

I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x

He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”

She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”

All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”

All of them are quiet.

He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.

“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.

-

When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.

“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.

She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.

“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.

YN clenches her jaw, “No.”

He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.

“I love you.”

It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.

To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.

“I love you too, puppy.”

She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”

YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”

Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.

—-

“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”

“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”

“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”

——

“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.

It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.

How could he blame her for her commitment issues?

Why she struggles to trust?

Why she never feels good enough?

“I’m sorry to bring that up-“

“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”

YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.

She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”

His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.

And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”

He would and he has.

[jamestkirkish]

As promised: why i’m freaking out about a 45 year old dad from New Jersey wearing a cheerleader outfit and why i’ve been waiting for him to do this since i was in the 8th grade.

Which is obviously more about me than it is about him/them, being as they’re someone I have never met or spoken to.

But sometime around 2005 or 2006 - and I’m not fact checking myself, so historians feel free to correct - I read something somewhere. I don’t know if it was a quote or a link, if it had been posted on GSB or INO? Like idek if it was before the admins realized they were going to need to make a whole new site. But I know I was about 13 years old and I learned that Gerard Way used to go to art school in full drag.

I was 13 years old and had no idea what was going on. Had never heard the words ‘pansexual’ or ‘nonbinary’. I thought something was wrong with me.

But as far as I was concerned, Gerard Way was the prettiest person I’d ever seen

(honestly it’s still true, and I really don’t mean it in a creepy way, nothing nsfw, just like ... statement of fact)

and I desperately wanted to see Gerard Way as a girl.

And I had been working so hard to come to terms with the fact that I thought I must be bisexual (and that still wasn’t right) and so scared all of the time. Because ‘05/’06 was a lot different than 2022.

And just a couple years before that I had dressed up as a hobo for Halloween. And I was a boy hobo. I’d drawn a beard onto my face with one of my mum’s eyebrow pencils. I posed for a picture as if I was a boy. They hold their bodies differently. And obviously I did a good job because my mum made a big deal about how I looked like a boy, as if it was a bad thing and had me pose again ‘normal’.

Sometimes people called me a tomboy.

I don’t think I’d even heard the word ‘transgender’ yet. But I knew about cross dressing. I knew I wasn’t a boy. I still wanted to look more like a boy. I was trying so hard to be a girl.

Still, I was 13 years old and had no idea what was going on, but I wanted to see Gerard Way in the best damn dress he owned. Because maybe it would make it okay. Whatever was wrong. Because at this point I’d already promised him(myself) that I was going to keep fighting. Be invincible.

I didn’t understand why, if they were fine dressing up for school why they couldn’t now(then). When I already thought they were the bravest person. Much more brave than I could ever be.

It never occurred to me to think about whether Gerard may or may not want to be a girl in any permanent sense. Maybe because I don’t want to be a boy. But I’m not a girl. And since I don’t actually know them, y’know ... projection.

Regardless, ‘Gerard Way needs to wear a dress on stage’ had been something branded into my brain since then.

And he finally did.

This year I came out to my mum as pansexual and nonbinary. This year I finally started dressing like myself again, started trying to look like how I really wanted to look (and feeling weirdly vain and conceited about it).

And fuck - we’re really doing it. I still think they’re the bravest person. So much more brave than I am. But damn I have to keep trying.

So there’s this singer in a rock band who’s 15 years older than me who I’ve not spoken to once in my whole life, but it really feels like we’ve been going on this journey together. And that’s weird, but whatever. I’ve never felt more validated by another human being in my whole life.

[qyllenhaal]

Muse

Pairing: Artist!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve’s an artist, and you’re secretly his muse. 3rd POV. WC: 3.5k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, MDNI), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. Fluff. Friends to lover.

Steve knew it was a risk to quit his job and focus full-time on being an artist. His boss laughed in his face when he turned in his letter of resignation and asked Steve how much he thought his "little paintings" were going to make him. Steve didn't just face this scrutiny from his boss, but his friends too albeit not as harsh. Many of the people in his life didn't understand his passion for something that might leave him struggling, but Y/n was always there encouraging him.

"You may struggle for a little bit, but I think it's great Steve! Only one day into your new life as an artist and you already seem happier!"

Steve has known Y/n for almost a decade. They met under odd circumstances that some would consider a meet cute. She's still so sweet and bubbly just like she was the day he met her. It wasn't hard for him to fall head-over-heels for her. She always has a kind word and an open ear even during times of distress.

Sometimes he blushes when she gives him a compliment. She claims to not know anything about art, but every time he shows her something new she always has something stark to say that sticks with him. Maybe it's because it's coming from her.

His time spent alone in his studio is sacred. He converted a room in his apartment into a makeshift studio and he finds so much solace in those four walls. He has wanted to dabble in painting live subjects, maybe even a nude model or too, but he found himself getting real shy about it. He'd love to have someone to pose and to capture the way the light perfectly hits their face. That someone he imagined was often Y/n.

He was shocked when she allowed him to make her his subject. It started with him asking to paint a few photos of her she had lying around for "practice." Y/n was more than happy to help her friend Steve, only under the condition that he show her the final product. Steve found no problem in showing off the pastoral setting paintings he created, but it was much more harder to show off paintings of the person he thinks is the most beautiful person in the world.

Just like he couldn't muster up the confidence to ask anyone else to be his model, Steve could never ask Y/n to model for him in person. He found himself becoming too shy whenever the question was on the tip of his tongue. It would be much better if he were here in person with him, but he opted for photos of her clipped to his easel for reference. He'd finish a painting in one day and send her a photo via text of the finished product.

“I really look like that? It's amazing Steve!”

But eventually he ran out of photos. He tried to reuse some old ways and paint in a different style, or play with the colors, but it was beginning to become stale. Steve needed something new, but he didn't want to let go of Y/n as his subject.

"So you need new pictures?"

"Yeah — it's fine if you don't have any more," he tries to play it off as if he doesn't have 10 canvases in his studio of paintings of her that he hasn't shown her.

"We could take some more. Do you still have that digital camera you got a few Christmas' ago?"

"No. I think it got lost when I moved."

"Oh. Well I think Sam has a camera we can borrow. It's one of those fancy ones, right?"

Steve agreed to ask Sam to borrow his camera, but he honestly wishes that he had just bought his own. The amount of teasing he had to endure when he explained to Sam exactly why he needed the camera made his skin heat up. He couldn't stop his cheeks from becoming rosy when Sam asked when is he finally going to tell Y/n how he feels about her. Steve doesn't want to ruin what they have just in case Y/n rejects him. He'd much rather wallow in his school boy crush than put a strain on their friendship.

"How do you want me to pose?"

Y/n sat on the lone couch in Steve's studio room. It wasn't the best quality but it was still useful.

The curtains were drawn to shield the sun that was nearly set. The lighting in the room was dim save for the soft light coming from a small lamp pointed at her. It casted a warm, yellowish light onto her skin. She wore a white dress and kicked her shoes off at the front door.

"Whatever comes natural to you," his voice is weak as he responds. The atmosphere of the room is slightly romantic and he can't shake his nerves. Everything feels extremely intimate.

Y/n is almost as nervous as Steve. She's never modeled for someone and it feels a little bit awkward. She's always comfortable around Steve, but she can't help but get a little nervous when she sees Steve with the camera in his hands.

"You look perfect like that," he compliments the half-asses pose she's doing before snapping the first photo. He looks at the preview before the camera's screen could go dark.

"Let me see." He shows her and she just nods her head, "let me adjust myself," she whispers.

Y/n unbuttons the first two buttons of her dress, exposing more of her chest that only gives a glimpse of her breast. Steve pretended to not notice it as he took another picture of her. Once again Y/n asked to see the photo and looked a little more satisfied with it this time.

"Do you think that I could — nevermind."

"What is it Y/n?" He asks with a soft laugh that makes her want to melt.

"Do you think I could unbutton my dress all the way?" Her voice faltered as she asked. She watched Steve's reaction intently. She hopes the question doesn't make him uncomfortable. "It's just that I was looking up some ideas online so I could prepare and I saw this really pretty picture of this model and she was semi-nude but it was really pretty so I wanted to ask if we could try it," she explained; or perhaps over-explained.

Steve was completely dumbfounded. If Y/n couldn't see it in his dropped jaw, then she can see it in the way he just freezes.

"It's okay if that's too much."

"No! No, it's okay."

Y/n gave him a half smile before she began to unbutton the front of her dress. Steve tried to look away, but how could he not? The more she revealed herself, the easier it was for him to see the swell of her breast. Her skin looks so soft and he feels compelled to reach out and caress her bare skin. But he keeps his hands to himself.

"Is this too much?" The puffy sleeves of her dress were off of her shoulder and her dress was all the way open until the middle of her stomach. It's a lot for him to handle, but he feels blessed to see such a sight.

"No. It's perfect. You're perfect."

Y/n's skin heats up despite the room being cold. She was starting to get a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't a bad one or an uncomfortable feeling, but it was something she wasn't used to.

Now she's half-naked and posing on his couch. The first few photos he took of her like this were awkward as they both had to adjust to Y/n being half-naked.

Steve couldn't ignore the way the cold air made her nipples hard and breast tender. Steve was supposed to be on his best behavior, but he is seconds away from making a stupid mistake with his best friend.

Y/n arches her back which makes her breast jut out at him. Steve pauses to pray that he doesn't get a hard on. He feels a bit like a scumbag for even having this dilemma. It's just his best friend's half-naked body — that looks so soft and tender.

He forced himself to steel his resolve and hurry up and finish the task at hand. He began to treat her more like a model instead of the best friend he has a crush on.

"Try this," he suggests to her to move her body in a different way, which she does, but it's not quite what he wants. He was hesitant to get his hands on her, but he went for it anyway, "a little more like this."

In the process of moving her body, his hand brushed against her nipple. Y/n involuntarily let out a moan which made both of them pause. They looked at each other before Y/n let out a nervous laugh to try to play it off.

"Sorry," Steve apologizes.

"It's okay."

He glosses over what just happened and goes back to moving her body to her liking. He can't get over how good she feels underneath him. The truth is that he was taking his time to be able to have this experience for much longer. He may never have this kind of closeness with her again and he just can't quite let go.

Y/n watches his face as his hands touch her body. He looks so handsome under this lighting and Y/n wonders if she's always felt this way about Steve. For some reason she feels lust swirling inside of her. She hopes she isn't making a mistake when she leans forward and kisses him. Steve freezes under her kiss, stunned by reality, but he lets it happen. Her lips feel so soft against his, just like he always imagined.

She pulls away and places her forehead against his. Steve still has his eyes closed, lost in the dream that is Y/n's closeness.

"You can open your eyes now," she teases him. He obeys her and laughs along with her.

"I've wanted this for so long," he admits.

The revelation is shocking to her. She had no idea he felt this way about her, but now she wonders how much she's been oblivious to.

"Do you want this, Y/n? The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable."

"No, no — I want this Steve. I wanna feel you touching me," her voice became somewhat whiny as desire fueled her.

With her blessing, Steve did not hold back. He kissed her hard, the way he imagined he would always kiss her. Imagine the way his heart nearly stopped when Y/n kissed him back with the same amount of fervor and want. Her hand came up and rested against the stubble on his cheek. They wish they could say their kiss was delicate, but it was not; it was sloppy and their tongues danced with each other.

When Steve pulls away, he's out of breath, but he's happy. The light touches he gave to her body earlier were not a bit rougher. He wants to explore every inch of her body in seconds, but he wants to be patient; he has all night to discover every inch of her.

"Touch me right here, Steve."

Y/n places his hands on her breast with his thumbs in reach of her nipples. Steve's thumb runs across her taut nipples which makes her sigh. "You like that?" He asks with a bit more confidence. She nods her head and her approval emboldens him. “Good.”

His lips ghost across the skin on her neck before he places a wet kiss against the skin on her throat. He can feel her breath hitch every time he places a tender kiss on her flesh. She smells like lavender and it makes him feel dizzy. He keeps playing with her nipples as he begins to suck on her neck. Y/n wants to just lay there and take in the feeling of him spoiling her, but she also wants to hear him moan. She strokes the bulge in his pants with her knee and she feels him groan against her skin. He lightly grinds himself against her knee to relieve all of the tension that built up inside of him. Neither of them are sure who wants who more, but it doesn’t matter to either of them. Knowing that this is an equal exchange of love and lust is enough for the two of them.

“Oh god Steve,” Y/n coos when he sucks on the most sensitive part of her neck. They’ve only just begun, but he makes her feel so good. A part of her is wishing that she had discovered Steve’s crush on her a long time ago, but she has him now and that’s all that matters.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he says against her skin, “I wanna make you cum.”

Y/n can’t help but moan at his confession. She can already imagine how it would feel to have him between her legs.

“Please Steve!”

Steve sits up just to push her dress up. The cotton panties she wears has a pink bow sewn onto it and he finds it adorable. He glances back up at her and he notices that she’s looking away from him. She’s now feeling bashful knowing that he’s going to see her completely naked even though she wants all of this and more. “It’s okay, pretty girl,” Steve pacifies her by slowly stroking her outer thigh. She finally looks at him, her pupils wide with lust. She almost sighs in content when he starts to slide her panties down. The cool air of the rooms only heats her up once it hits her hot sex.

“My god,” Steve whispers to himself. She looks so pretty, but she’s absolutely messy between her legs. She places her foot on the back of his couch to spread herself wider for him. “Good girl.”

Steve lowers himself between her legs and just stares at her for a moment. He wants to remember this for the rest of his life just in case this is the last time something like this happens between the two of them. He would be crushed if Y/n asked to just continue on as friend’s after this, but he would be eternally grateful that she granted him this opportunity. All he wants to do is make her feel good; his pleasure will follow suit, but it’s all about her.

One of his fingers runs along the edge of her folds. Y/n whimpers at the delicate way he treats her body. She feels so lucky to have someone so kind and sweet like Steve. He touches her with care, and love is in every stroke. “You’re so perfect,” he says before kissing her inner thigh. Every part of her body is sensitive but somehow she is able to withstand it all.

The first lick to her pussy overblows both of their senses. She’s sweet like honey and juicy like a peach. Steve’s first instinct is to groan against her pussy which sends vibration throughout her entire body. She feels like she’s on fire as all of the blood in her body goes straight to her sensitive nub. His tongue focuses on her clit and she’s in heaven. Steve’s tongue moves with so much skill and precision, but most importantly, passion. Steve treats her like he truly wants her, and Y/n can’t help but fall for him at this moment.

“You taste so good,” he coos against her slick.

The way he paws at her body while licking her pussy makes her feel like she’s being worshiped. Tears well in her eyes the harder he sucks at her clit. She hopes his neighbors’ aren’t home because they’d probably be annoyed at the loud sounds of her cries of pleasure. He has her on the edge and it just takes him rolling her nipples with his fingers that finally push her over.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Her cries are so angelic to him. And as much as he wants to keep licking her out, Steve needs to be inside of her so bad. He tames himself and pulls his mouth away from her to pull himself out of his pants. His incredibly hard, the head of his cock an angry red as it leaks pre-cum. “This is what you do to me,” his words are haunting. Y/n whines and wiggles her hips from being so impatient.

Steve lowers himself and presses the head of her cock at her opening. She’s so slippery that he pushes into her with ease. His cock is so big that she inhales sharply as she takes all of him inside of her. Her walls are like silk around him.

“So tight baby — oh god.”

Steve feels like he’s going to explode already. Her pussy is squeezing him and she looks up at him with wide eyes as she takes his cock like a good girl. It is the hardest task he’s ever faced in his life to not cum already. She just feels so good.

“Are you okay?” He asks sweetly before dipping his head to kiss her forehead.

She nods her head, “yes, Steve…feels so good,” she manages to speak coherently.

Her legs were thrown over his legs which allows him to fuck deeper into her. She looks so beautiful underneath him. Steve wants to feel her cum on his cock so bad. She flutters around him when he pulls out of her only to push back in seconds later.

Steve can only control himself for so long before he’s pounding into her. The cry of his name on her lips is so saccharine that it gives him a sweet tooth. He sucks on the skin of her neck to satisfy that need while Y/n places her hand on the back of his head as she moans for him.

“I’m gonna cum Steve! You’re going to make me cum!”

The ridges of his cock feels so good inside of her, but what really does it for her is how the head of his cock is kissing her cervix. The stretch of his cock is such a delicious burn that she wants him inside forever. With his face planted in her neck, lips kissing at her skin, Y/n is completely enamored with the way Steve consumes all of her. She is his just as much as he is her.

He feels her sex squeeze him one more time before she’s cumming all around him. She clings to him as her orgasm ravages through her. Steve fucks her through it before reluctantly pulling out of her. Her jerks himself off until he’s cumming all over her pretty tits, painting her body like she’s one of the world’s most precious masterpieces.

The two are completely spent as their limbs dangle off of his couch. Y/n’s heart is full feeling his cum cooling on her chest. She dips a finger in his spent and sucks it off, savoring his taste since she didn’t get a chance to go down on him. Steve almost passes out at the sight.

“You’re crushing my legs Steve,” she laughs warmly. He rolls off of her and off of the couch entirely.

Steve grabs a towel and starts t0 clean up her chest. He remembers what they were supposed to be accomplishing, but after what just happened between the two of them, Steve is certain he won’t be anxious about asking her to be his model again.

“So, where do we go from here?”

The question catches him off guard. He slowly wipes away his cum with the damp towel from her chest. As much as finding the answer to this question is hard, he is happy that she asked it because it means that she’s giving him a chance.

“I don’t want this to be the last time we do this,” Steve admits. He’s quickly become addicted to the way their foreheads pressed together; it just feels so intimate. “I love you too much for this to be the last time we ever spend like this together.”

As much as tonight has been shocking to her after the revelation of Steve proving to her that he loves her, she’s only overwhelmed with positive emotions.

“Then let’s not let this be the last time,” she whispers against his lips.

A wave of relief washes over Steve as he just lays there against, their bare bodies pressed against each other as if this is always how it should’ve been. His only hope is that they can stay like this forever.