#sorry this took so long but my mental health has been

[aresianrepose]

Before the semester kicks off and murders me, @disniq​ asked for my essay on Jason Todd and hysteria. So, without further ado, here is an actual essay (fucking dissertation) because I refuse brevity. It is extremely long. I’ve split it into sections so you can find the section header and read what you want. This does not encompass all the narrative trauma themes and lived experiences that this boy holds, just specifically hysteria. 

Jason Todd, The Hysteric & Bruce Wayne, The Batman

I think it’s a common reading that Jason Todd is girl-coded and the patron saint of victims, at least within the circle that I’ve fallen into within this fandom. There are plenty of meta discussions on why those readings stand, so I’m not going to reiterate them. A pillar of him being girl-coded and someone trauma survivors have latched onto as one of our own has to do with being written in the context of hysterical femininity. And let me just say, I don’t think that writing was done in a way that he was intentionally coded as hysterical, but it is a function of our patriarchal society that this coding was used on him albeit without the explicit purpose of writing a hysteric story. 

For the purpose of this post: the word woman includes ciswomen, transwomen, and any person who is socially positioned as a woman regardless of gender identity. I include the positionality here because anyone can experience misogyny and sexism depending on the perception of the perpetrators either interpersonally or systemically. 

The History and Context of Hysteria

To understand the context, we have to look at the history and oppression of hysteria. Hysteria (in the modern context of psychology) emerged in the nineteenth century and is difficult to define by design and often applied to traumatized, unruly, and broken women. The main patriarchs who contributed to hysterical study were Jean-Martin Charcot and Sigmund Freud. I only mention this because it’s important to know their names moving forward for any of this to make sense. The beginning of this started with Charcot literally putting women whose lives had been marked by rape, abuse, exploitation, and poverty on display in his Tuesday lectures (which were open to the public) to show his findings on hysteria. This was actually seen as restoring dignity (fucking yikes) to the women because before Charcot these hysterical women were cast aside and not treated at all. In Charcot’s work, the women’s speech was seen as simply “vocalization” and their inner lives, their stories, their words, were silenced. After hearing a woman cry for her mother during one of the public sessions Charcot remarked, “Again, note these screams. You could say it’s a lot of noise over nothing” (Herman). 

This led to Freud, Charcot’s student, wanting to surpass his teacher by discovering the cause of hysteria. This was disastrous. Freud started with listening to the hysterics. In doing so, he learned and believed them about the abuse, rape, and exploitation of their pasts. He then published his work and gave a lecture on it. The work rivals even contemporary psychological work on trauma in it’s level of compassion, understanding, and treatment of survivors. However, he was then labeled a feminist (this was all happening during the first wave of feminism) and professionally ostracized. How in the world could these aristocratic French men be sexually abusing their wives, sisters, and daughters??? Insanity, truly. And... This always fucking gets me. He recanted his work and then told his patients they all imagined it because they wanted to be sexually abused by their husbands, brothers, and fathers. This set back the study of trauma by literally a century. One colleague called his work “a scientific fairy-tale” simply because he had the audacity to believe victims. Also, I want to point out that the famous hysteria case during this time was the case of Anna O and she was ultimately villainized by the entire psychological community for going into crisis after her care provider abruptly ended their therapeutic relationship after two years of DAILY sessions. 

Anyway. We can see how the power of these men over vulnerable women silenced, pathologized, villainized, infantilized, and used male ‘logic’ to completely destroy their credibility and lives under the guise of care and hysteria. Even when credible men lend their expertise and voices to the victims, their voices are silenced. This particular iteration of hysteria lasted over a century, and we are still dealing with the consequences of these actions and ideas within our social construction, medical and mental health care, interpersonal relationships, and more. Patriarchal pillars such as hysteria don’t die. We saw it move from hysteria to schizophrenia (which used to have the same symptoms of hysteria before the diagnosis changed in more contemporary psychology) after this which led to widespread lobotomies and electroshock therapy (my least favorite case of a lobotomy being done is on a woman who was diagnosed with LITERALLY ‘narcissist husband’) to depression in the 40s-50s with the over prescription of benzodiazepines to house wives to keep them in a zombie state (these prescriptions were sometimes double and triple what we take today with the intent of medical catatonia). In my opinion, as well as other counselors within the feminist therapy theoretical orientation, we are currently seeing it with the emergence of borderline-personality disorder. Think about how BPD is treated and demonized for a second. I professionally know therapists who refuse to work with BPD clients due to this villainization and just fucking gross perception of victims.

These are just the highlights, but it shows the history of hysteria. There have been centuries of women being marked as hysterical and the cures have ranged from lobotomy to bed rest (which sounds not so bad but read the Yellow Wallpaper and get back to me on that one). While the Yellow Wallpaper is fictional, the life behind it was not. After the traumatic birth of her child the author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, was remanded to bed rest by the authority of her husband and doctor. Within the sphere of medical control, hysterical women are often treated as children while their doctors make decisions for their mental well-being without consulting them, or they hide the truth of their procedures for “the woman’s own good” and because “she’s hysterical and wouldn’t comprehend the logical need for this.” She then had a mental break due to the treatment. Again, we see hysterical women being silenced, infantilized, discredited from their own experiences, and under the narrative control of male logic and voices. 

Hysterical women have often historically been seen as beneath men, except for when they’re dangerous. Listening to victims is inherently threatening to the status quo because all trauma comes from a systemic framework. The framework that upholds patriarchal power. It’s easy to see why that would be seen as dangerous to powerful men. We saw this with the European witch genocide in which oppressed women were targeted and wiped out under the excuse of what was considered women’s work. (Before this time, witchcraft wasn’t tied to any religion and was mostly just seen as women’s work. It was targeted specifically to have an excuse to persecute widows, homeless, disabled, and vulnerable women who no longer had men to reign over them during a time of political unrest and scarce resources). This time period saw hysterical and traumatized women demonized as dangerous, evil, immoral, hypersexual, and supernaturally wily. A threat to the moral fabric of society. 

(Interesting history side note: this caused the view of women’s base traits we have today. It stemmed from the Victorian era that came after this time period in which women learned if they behaved a certain way, they would be spared the stake. For example, before the witch trials, women were actually seen as the ones with unsatiable sexual appetites, something we culturally prescribe to men now.) 

Notice how none of this has to do with the actual abuse that happens to the women, but instead the labeling and treatment of women when they are already showing the symptoms of abuse, trauma, control, exploitation, and rape. 

Jason Todd, The Hysteric

So, how does this relate to Jason Todd? To say that Jason has experienced trauma would be an understatement. Extreme poverty, loss of parent to death and addiction, loss of parent to the justice system, parental abuse, manipulation, witnessing violent crimes, witnessing the aftermath of sexual abuse and assault, arguably (not explicit in the text) his own sexual trauma, witnessing the dead bodies of victims, a violent death, and subsequently a violent resurrection. There’s also an argument to be made for being a child soldier and how that is romanticized up until he dies, but the text does not treat this as traumatizing.

Now, I’m not going to dive into the trauma he experienced. The purpose of this is only to look at how he’s framed as hysterical in the narrative, and as I stated, hysteria was a word slapped on women after they tried to talk about their trauma or exhibited symptoms (or were just unruly women). Jason does embody many facets of the victim experience and this is just one of them. 

Feelings vs “logic” - Firstly, it is really hard to talk calmly about things that you carry, your experiences, your trauma, and things that specifically harm you. It is easy to talk calmly about things that don’t. This is why there is an abuse tactic of gaslighting or silencing victims by framing their very real reactions to harm or their triggers as abuse, this is known as “reactive abuse.” This tactic is also employed in oppressive settings where the privileged group will often default to ‘winning’ a debate by being able to remain calm while the marginalized group whose life, personhood, etc is being harmed by the things being discussed and are unable to have a sterilized, emotionless debate. 

Both of these settings fit Jason nicely within the moral context of vigilante comics. He fought back, he didn’t lay down, and he will do what he deems as necessary to protect himself and others from his fate. This, however, is framed by Bruce and others as being just as bad as his murderer or even just as bad as Joe fucking Chill. To put this in perspective of a real world equivalent. Combine every billionaire on this planet into one person and instead of their shitty business practices murdering people, they did it with their own two hands. And due to their resources and political power, they would never, ever stop killing or be reasonably contained. More people would die with absolute 100% certainty. Would killing that one person make you equally bad as that person or violating the sanctity of life? That’s the moral question that Bruce puts onto Jason. While the moral question inherent to Jason is actually, is there a line worth crossing to provide reasonable safety (for yourself or the nameless community)? There is actually a difference between those two questions and the reactive abuse framing is certainly a choice. Also, it is funny to me that a man with the amount of power Bruce has (and frequently misuses) can lecture a murder victim on the misuse of power and morality. Are we supposed to be agree with his stoic, philosophical lecturing to a marginalized, abused, murder victim? (yes, we are). Bruce leverages (personal) philosophy against victim’s voice for their own safety, and take a wild guess which one is framed as logical and reasonable.

Jason’s morals come secondary to Bruce’s philosophy in a universe where there is still harm being done (but it’s an acceptable harm). Why is killing the line? Bruce is regularly destroying families and lives by feeding them into the prison industrial complex while supporting it with his whole chest. Or he’s disabling and seriously maiming people with the level of violence he uses. 

Crying - Throughout the entire story of Under the Red Hood, we never once see Bruce emote while interacting with Jason outside of tight grimaces. With the exception of the shock he shows at the Joker’s life being threatened, which... Okay, suuure. We never see him cry during any of their interactions, but we do see Jason cry. Specifically, we see him crying when he’s at his most emotionally vulnerable and physically dangerous to the toxic male power fantasy. This kind of vulnerability is rarely shown by male characters, and when it is, it’s usually done with a mist of a tear in their eyes or their face is hidden. There are a few narrative devices that allow men to cry, but they are the exception rather than the rule. Usually, it’s to play for laughs, infantilize, or emasculate. Here, we see Jason combine the violence of a bad victim, bucking the system of power, and fully crying. Just slide right into that hysterical coding like a glove. Jason often shows his feelings entirely. Time and time again, the readers have seen Jason have breakdowns, cry, and be overcome with grief. This is tied to his portrayal as hysterical and unstable in the narrative, but in actuality it shows his capacity for love and how vastly impactful his death was. 

This fits nicely with the next point that Jason fits into the hysterical box. Love is framed as one of his key faults. A son reaching for his father. 

Love - One of Jason’s defining features is the amount of love and compassion he holds. He’s willing to put up with any treatment, shoulder blame, and sacrifice himself for others to almost an unhealthy degree. However, this doesn’t extend to what he defines as his baseline safety. This one line of safety is the one thing that can’t be crossed, even with all of the love he feels for his father. He desperately wants to feel connection, have a family, and be loved in return with the same unwavering ferocity love that he gives. This is such a fucking key part of the victim experience, especially victims of childhood trauma. The desperation to just be chosen. He’s raw and honest with his reasonable expectation for love to provide safety for him and that is framed as hysterical, needy, unstable, naive, and fucking childish. Victims know what they need to have safety, and this framing as Bruce knowing what’s best for Jason and literally giving a cold shoulder to his needs is disgusting. 

Less than - Jason is portrayed as less powerful than Bruce even though they have similar expertise. There are so many instances of this that if you just open any media they both appear in, you can close your eyes, point, and land on an example. It makes me die laughing every time I remember that the Arkham games made Jason just one inch shorter than Bruce. Like, they can’t even be the same fucking height, that’s the level of insecure masculinity surrounding this relationship. Jason cannot and will never be able to be on par with Bruce because of his hysterical femininity and the power of Bruce being the self insert for the toxic male power fantasy. This power dynamic applies to the other batkids as well, but specifically in Jason’s case there is an element of hysteria. The reasons change because he’s so inconsistently written but usually he can’t surpass or even meet a stalemate with Bruce because he’s too emotional, he’s unstable, traumatized, and simply Bad. It’s even explicitly stated by Alfred in Under the Red Hood. 

Victim blaming - Jason deserved to die because he didn’t follow orders. Jason deserved to die for not following his training. Jason deserved to die because he was an angry Robin (oh no a child had an appropriate reaction to sexual violence). Jason deserved to die for being human.

Infantilization - Jason is repeatedly infantilized in contrast to Bruce. When given the ultimatum at the end of UtRH, Bruce speaks to Jason like a child, or a bad dog. Ordering him to do things like, “enough!” or “stop this now.” Bruce knows what’s best for Jason (and for everyone in the entire world), we should really just take his word for it and not the victim’s. Imagine staring at a 6 foot wall of a man and scolding him like a child. Beyond that, as mentioned above, his views of love and safety are framed as childish. Even though they are actually leaning more toward collectivism rather than the rampant individualism that Bruce so strongly defers to. (also, just a side note, collectivistic methods in healing from trauma is actually the only scientifically reliable way to heal. Every other method has absolutely abysmal results and higher rates of relapses.)

Silenced and Safety Villainized - Jason is silenced in his own story, acceptable and honored when he was dead and met with vitriol in life. All of the love given to him as Robin turns to ash as soon as he collides with Bruce’s power and morals. I think any survivor can relate to the experience of being told that what happened to them was a long time ago and it’s time to move on. Or even that they’re leveraging their own safety to get what they want in a manipulative way. Regardless of whether or not there was any accountability or justice for the harm done to them. Alfred asks Bruce if he should remove Jason’s memorial in the cave like two seconds after learning of his resurrection because Jason’s methods of securing safety for himself and using his own voice to define his story. Bruce was able to tell Jason’s story when he died. He was able to memorialize, grieve, and ultimately define Jason’s story because Jason wasn’t there to speak for himself. When Jason does speak for himself, he is villainized and literally stripped of his past significance as Robin (or a good victim) by Alfred within seconds. This is reflected in real life with adoptee advocates speaking about how adoption is unethical/harmful/traumatizing and subsequently being framed as ungrateful, selfish, etc. They were little perfect victims without voices before they grew up and could speak for themselves.

Erased - Gestures at the entirety of how Jason is either talked about or completely erased during the 90s Tim Robin run. He wasn’t convenient to talk about, as victims rarely are. This also ties into how Steph’s death was erased and Babs was written like she “won” at trauma by simply... beating it??? 

Dangerous - Jason is framed as threatening the basic fabric of society (in a story with vigilantes this is hard to do, so they have him oppose the no-kill rule, and then doubled down on Bruce’s characterization of no-killing). Anything that bucks the status-quo is usually marked as villainous in mainstream vigilante/superhero comics, but this is a step beyond that into the interpersonal and political sphere. Hysterical women are often framed as dangerous, villains, snakes, and treacherous (the other side of this coin is weak, pathetic, and pitiable) because they are victimized and then have the audacity to do something to the system about it. Whether that be the system of their immediate families or the political sphere. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jason was paired with Talia in Lost Days to hammer this point home to the reader. It could’ve just as easily been anyone with access to the Pit that rescued him, but no, we had DC’s favorite brown, treacherous, venomous, female punching bag. 

Bruce Wayne, The Batman

Bruce fits well into the father, enforcer, and logical man slot in Jason’s hysterical story. There is a history of ownership throughout women’s history when it comes to their subjugation to men. Women actually couldn’t be put on trial before the witchcraft genocide because they weren’t seen as legally a person. Their male owner would be put on trial instead. Women would go from being owned by their fathers to their husbands after entering marriage, the most dangerous woman being one who isn’t owned (orphaned, widowed). Bruce does treat (and even thinks) about Jason like he’s something that he owns. He’s his protege, his son, and his responsibility. 

The narrative function of Bruce as a perpetrator in Jason’s story. 

“The perpetrator asks the bystander (reader) to do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander (reader) to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement and remembering” (Herman). 

Bruce does remember what happened to Jason. He keeps a permanent memorial to his dead son. However, this doesn’t translate into any kind of tangible action. He doesn’t do anything to actually stop the murderer who took his son’s life and he continues to throw child soldiers at the problem of crime (how many children have died for the sake of his no-kill rule at this point?). When met with the reality of his inaction, he fits into the perpetrator’s role like a glove:

“In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the first line of defense... If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens... From the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization... One can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it’s time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater his prerogative to name and define reality, the more completely his arguments prevail” (Herman). 

I think it is simply fact at this point that Bruce is the head patriarch in Gotham if not, arguably, in the entirety of DC. That level of power in the narrative cannot be ignored, especially when faced with the very real, screaming voice of a victim that Bruce uses all of that power to silence. Bruce, because of his status as patriarch, default protagonist, and self-insert for the toxic male power fantasy, has the ultimate power to name and define reality. Especially to the reader. Bruce doesn’t deny what happened to Jason, because that’s physically impossible to do. But what he does do is ensure that no one listens to Jason, discredits him, and rationalizes his own inaction, actions of violence towards Jason, and victim blames.

Here’s Bruce using the most base form of denial and victim blaming:

After this panel, Bruce also revokes Dick’s access to his childhood home simply for asking a question.

This theme extends to other members of the batfam because of Bruce’s narrative power over them. It’s why we can’t have Dick, Steph, Babs, or even Damian step in and relate to Jason’s trauma or vindicate him. Even when we, the readers, can see parallels and wonder why these conversations or bonds aren’t forming. Jason HAS to be a lone wolf because he is hysterical and a threat to the system of power. This also shows why most of his runs in group settings outside of the batfam fall apart or fall flat. If he was humanized by any other character or had his trauma validated in any actionable way, it would be recognizing the failure of the toxic male power fantasy. The readers are not supposed to see the flaw in this system that allows the bodies of children to pile up and sympathize with one of their voices. It would be a crack in the system of power that exists not only in the source material, but very much within our real world.

Side note: Jason is allowed to interact with others in a wholesome and validating way when he no longer threatens the systemic power of Bruce. When he is silenced by the writers and plays the “nice victim” (like Babs does), he is allowed connection. Only when his healing is done in a way that doesn’t demand action and is only his personal responsibility (gotta love the rampant individualism). If he is hysterical, demands action, and asks for someone to be held accountable for his death, he is shoved away into a lone wolf box. Examples: Gotham Knights (from my very basic understanding, I haven’t played the game, only seen play throughs) and WFA. Victims are acceptable if they do their healing in a neat little box and stay there, but hysterics are the ones who step outside of that box.

Red Hood, The Political Voice of Hysteria and Trauma

Red Hood is deeply political in terms of hysteria and trauma. Herman stated that victims and those that authentically care for them or listen to them intently (whether that be interpersonally, clinically, or professionally) are silenced, ostracized, and discredited. Survivors need a social context that supports the victim and that joins the victim and witness in a common alliance. On an interpersonal level this looks like family, friends, and loved ones. However, trauma is systemic and the social context mentioned above must also be given on a wider social scale. For this to be done, there had to be systemic change and political action. Jason had the interpersonal social support and witnesses to his trauma ripped from him by Bruce. So, we see him move onto a systemic level of addressing trauma in his own political way. He literally cannot escape Bruce and this constant trigger because of Bruce’s philosophy and just... fucking power to define reality... being re-enforced constantly in DC no matter where he tries to go. So, he tries to heal by taking the systemic issue of perpetrators who cannot be held accountable or have fallen through the cracks of accountability into his own hands in a very personal way. A one man political movement.

Whether his methods are moral or ethical doesn’t really matter in the overall framing him as hysteric. He simply has to be opposed by the male power fantasy in some significant way. This shows that the goals, needs, and work towards victim’s and the marginalized’s freedom is dangerous, doomed to fail, and ultimately unethical if the victim is framed in a villain light instead of the more pathetic/pitiable iteration of hysteria. 

You can see how this is not only problematic but also reflects the real world values instilled in arguments against human rights movements (which are intrinsically tied to victims rights). Defunding the police is dangerous, the MeToo movement is dangerous, abolition is dangerous, trans rights are dangerous, etc etc etc. Think of the victims voices tied to each of these movements and how they are integral to the real change offered by these political movements. You can’t have human rights violations without creating victims. And you can’t have political movements surrounding human rights without listening to victims.

We can also see how the individuals within these movements are ostracized, villianized, and often silenced (sometimes ultimately silenced with death) because they rally against the systems of power that victimized them. The framing of traumatized, vulnerable people as hysterical is integral to upholding the system of power that traumatizes and harms them.

A popular comic book movie adaptation that highlights the importance of Jason’s hysterical framing and how it impacts the political narrative/how he is written is V for Vendetta. To be fair, it received an insane amount of backlash by conservatives (not within leftist or liberal spaces) for V’s methods in over throwing fascism, but only because of the movie’s release date being so close to 9/11. V and Jason have many parallels, it’s only the lack of hysterical framing that makes V more palatable to the viewer. We are told, not shown through behavior, that V is traumatized by his past and he does not pick a fight with the protagonist that functions as a toxic male power fantasy. He is the protag, with his version of Bruce being men who are not framed in a sympathetic, heroic, or relatable light. 

Additionally, there is literally an unemoting mask standing between the viewer and V, whereas Jason takes off his helmet to allow the reader to see every aspect of his trauma and pain. V readily dehumanizes himself into an idea, rather than a person. Whereas Jason screams to be seen as a person in a very hysterical way. So, we can see how the framing of Jason as hysteric against the logical, heroic man greatly impacts how the audience reads him when contrasted by a very similar political story/character who uses similar (and arguably more violent) methods to meet his ends. (This just made me realize that I would die for a Jason adaptation written by the Wachowski sisters). 

Jason’s work as Red Hood is seeped in leftist, victim, and community centered politics. His portrayal as a hysterical antagonist (at best an anti-hero) is rooted in misogyny and upholding patriarchal, capitalist, and the prison industrial complex systems of power. He is the righteous embodiment of “the personal is political” for victims. Even his Robin run draws attention to and shows correct, angry reactions to the system of patriarchal power in sexual violence.

Patriarchal Writing and Enforcement

Jason is girl-coded and hysterical because he’s supposed to be emasculated, discredited, and disliked by the reader. He serves the narrative function of boosting the toxic male power fantasy of Bruce and in doing so, the writers use one of the oldest tropes in the book (one that we have all subconsciously been taught since birth) to get the reader on their side. Make him a hysterical woman. 

References: for anyone interested in furthering their understanding of any of the concepts mentioned above and to, you know, use sources for my own writing.

Barstow, A. Witchcraze

Bondi, L., Burman. E. Women and Mental Health: A Feminist Review

Freud, S. The Aietology of Hysteria

Gilman, C. P. The Yellow Wallpaper

Herman, J. Trauma and Recovery

Ussher, J. The Madness of Women.

Van der Kolk, B. The Body Keeps the Score

Wilkin, L., Hillock, S. Enhancing MSW Students’ Efficacy in Working with Trauma, Violence, and Oppression: An Integrated Feminist-Trauma Framework for Social Work Education

[sweepy-stringbean]

hey you should talk some more about HoH Nancy

Would you ever draw her w/ other disabilities?

Sup, I am not sure what I Should say, but I, can, say that I like her cuz it's Nancy Wheeeeeeler ✨ I REALLY love Bryn's (@ronanceautistic ) Ask Response to hoh Nancy headcanons

I want to draw more post-st drawings with Nancy and her hearing aids, it's just on my long backlog pile. Having a stem day job has been beneficial in many ways BUT killed my free time to draw

Would I ever draw her w/ other disabilities? I guess so. I am not opposed to it. Just have to give me the brain rot, throw some ideas out, and or share something you/someone has written and I will consider it. Now will I get to it? Another story with my schedule but I can certainly get stuff done.

[pettydisco]

I'm not ready for it to be september again. I haven't done enough.

[possiblypeculiar]

silly cat board? just the silliest little guys?

love your boards btw!! I sometimes just come back to look through them cause they r good and fun <3

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ done

[martinsorbit]

Oh hey, it's that sun guy.

After two arduous weeks (Aug 1st - Aug 15th) the Sun cold porcelain figure is COMPLETE! DONE! FINISHED! HE IS HERE IN ALL HIS GLORY

Its been a long (and at times painful) process considering the time it took for all the stuff to dry and for me to have free time to finish this project, but now the silly little jester is in my hands and he looks SO CUTE AND COOL!! HE EVEN HAS A HOOK

Thanks everyone for hyping me up and keeping me motivated during this <3 It literally meant a ton and helped me keep working on this bonkus shit

under the read more, there will be some more details about the figure itself and some more pictures ( Like materials, how much time it took, the process stuff etc)

feel free to ask me questions! thanks everyone!

QUESTIONS ABOUT THE PROCESS!

Q: What materials did you use for this?

A: White Cold Porcelain, Hot Glue, super glue, pencils, pliers, paper clips, scissors, paint, all purpose varnish, paintbrushes, metalic pens

Q: How long did it take to make him?

A: Roughly two weeks

Q: Are you going to make moon too?

A: yes but it will take a while

Q: [X element of suns character design] is missing.

A: trust me, I know. Ive been staring at his model for roughly a whole week and mentally rotating him in my brain , so if something is missing its cuz i was either having a hard time making it or cuz I took creative liberties lmao

Q: How long did it take for the stuff to dry?

A: The cold porcelain abt 3 ish days; Paint took 1 day and the varnish also a day (as it states in the bottle)

FINAL NOTES:

Yes, you can use colored cold porcelain instead of painting it! It's just easier for me to paint it over

- For the love of god, be careful when applying the varnish, that shit is bad for your health! read the instructions, do it in a ventilated area, and NEVER put it too close to your face, or u might get some not so good side effects ( like yer eyes burning)

No, i dont intend on selling him anytime soon sorry ( this was asked before regarding some other cold porcelain thing I did, so I just thought i would add it here)

- If u dont wanna spend too much money on the colors u can just buy some Yellow, Cyan, Magenta, Black and White (CMYK) along with some skin tones; u can basically make any color from those

- I used two of Sun's main poses in the game as inspo for making this

- His faceplate is supposed to spin but since it keeps falling off I decided to glue it

[ssturniolo]

could u write something where reader is going through a sort of depressive episode where like trader just kinda feels hopeless and stuff and is pushing chris away and so he doesn’t understand why until matt like points it out and so chris then feels bad and comforts reader sorry if this is long😭

Everything’ll be alright

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - mentions of depression, bad mental health, Chris being oblivious, not proofread

Everything in your life has just been going wrong. Or at least it’s felt that way. Simple everyday tasks have grown increasingly difficult to do and every waking moment is it’s own battle. You’ve had no contact with the outside world in who knows how long, not even your own boyfriend. It just seems as though nobody cares and that, along with everything else is slowly destroying you.

Only leaving your bed to use the bathroom and grab another bag of chips that will eventually be thrown to the side uneaten, has been how you’ve been living for awhile now. You’re filled with this overwhelming feeling of despair and it just won’t go away. At war with your own mind, and there doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of this tunnel. Just a dead end.

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

Chris lays on the couch, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that you’ll answer one of his million texts. He knows you’re pushing him away but he can’t figure out why. What did he do wrong? You’re his first girlfriend and he’s so afraid to loose you but he doesn’t know what’s wrong or what to do.

“Me and Nick are going to McDonald’s if you want to bring y/n,” Matt calls as he grabs his keys off the counter.

“No that’s ok, I don’t think she’d want to” Chris reply’s, not looking up from his phone.

“But I thought she loves McDonald’s? I haven’t heard from her in awhile, how’s she doing?” Matt asks, his voice laced with concern.

“I wouldn’t know” Chris mumbles, clearly hurt.

Every once in awhile you kind of disappear but you’ve never done it for this long, let along not talking to Chris at all.

“Did you guys break up?” Matt asks gently as he sits by Chris on the couch.

“No but she ghosted me” Chris starts, pressing his palms into his eyes. “She’s completely disappeared off of social media, and never answers my texts or calls even when it says she’s active.”

Worry is painted across Matt’s features as he watches his brother fight off tears.

“Chris I think you should go check up on her. Y/n wouldn’t do this without a really good reason and I think she’s really struggling right now. I’ll bring you on the way to McDonald’s ok?”

Chris never thought about that fact you might not be doing well, he was more concerned about you ignoring him.

“Ok, let’s go.”

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

You’ve been curled up on your bed, staring at the same spot on your wall for what’s seemed like forever. How long exactly? You have no clue. Your only telling of time was whether there was light peeking through the blinds, or if everything was just swallowed in darkness.

The creak of the door to your room opening startles you out of your dazed state, confused as you hadn’t heard anyone come into your apartment.

“Hey there princess” a familiar voice whispers as he shuts the door behind him.

Chris.

Without another word, he climbs into your bed, snaking his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. And that’s all it took for you to burst into tears, wetting his t-shirt as you cry into his chest.

“I’m trapped Chris, I’m trapped” you manage to cry out in between sobs.

“I don’t know what to do”

“Everything will be alright baby, we’ll figure this out together, I’ve got you” he whispers soothingly into your hair.

There’s a terrible pressure on your chest, you feel everything and nothing at the same time, and your whole life seems to be crumbling down in front of you, but Chris is there. Right besides you through it all just like he’s always been. The world could be falling apart and he’d be there, ready to hold you in his arms and tell you everything will be alright.

Right now, all you need is Chris and he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for the request my love 🫶🏻

XOXO - Zoe

Tag-list ⬇️

@dwntwn-strnlo @soleilsturniolos @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @nickenthusiast @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Ok so, ever since I’ve discovered your blog I’m addicted, how you manage to make me love Eddie even more than I already did is beyond le but somehow you did it! I just noticed that your requests were open and was wondering if you could write Eddie with fem reader who’s like, hyper affectionate; she just need to have some sort of physical contact with him even if it it’s just touching his arm or something else. And when she wants affection but is worried to be annoying by asking she does a simply thing where she rest her head against his back or arm?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

A/N: Hello friend! Thank you so so much for this request! I’m so sorry that it took so long, my mental health hasn’t been great so writing has been hard for me on top of how busy life has been. But this request hit SO close to home as I am constantly looking for affection from my loved ones and I’m just hyper affection in general, I love writing this. I really hope you like it!

You had always been considered “touchy”, you always wanted to be touching the people you love. Person, to be more accurate, as currently the only person you really cared about touching was your boyfriend Eddie Munson. You were always trying to hold his hand or arm, hug him, kiss him, really any sort of affection you could get from him.

Currently you were in his bed with him, both of you reading different magazines as a mixtape he made for you played softly on the stereo. You were itching to touch him, feeling exceptionally touch starved today. But you were trying to hold back, worried that you were annoying him with your constant need for affection.

You had been with each other all day, practically attached to Eddie’s hip as you went about your day. You held his hand when you would walk anywhere, wrap yourself up in his arms when you would sit next to each other, lean up for kisses whenever you could. You were like his little shadow, following him in hopes that you’d get to touch him again.

Eddie had never, ever, made you feel like your affection was unwanted or annoying, yet your insecurities made you second guess that he liked it. Your mind would sometimes scold you for how needy you felt, telling you things like: “He just hugged you, don’t annoy him by asking again!” “He’s been holding your hand all day, give him some space!” And now, as you stared at the magazine in front of you, itching to be held by your boyfriend, it was telling you to leave him alone.

“You okay baby?” Eddie's voice rang out, breaking you from your thoughts.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m okay. Why do you ask Eds?” You said quickly, whipping your head to the side to look at him. Soft eyes full of adoration found yours and you tried not to melt.

“You haven’t turned the page in like fifteen minutes. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked with a gentle smile. His hand came up to cup your cheek lightly, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek soothingly.

“I just got distracted, don’t worry about me Eds.” You said with a smile of your own, not wanting to bother him.

“If you're sure, baby.” He smiled before pecking your lips quickly and going back to his magazine.

You smiled from the small dose of affection he gave you, relieved that he initiated it with you. But you wanted more, you wanted to be in his arms snuggled into his chest, your favorite place to be. You loved hearing his heartbeat as it thumped against your ear, you loved the way his scent clung to you after and how you could smell him on your clothes for days, you loved hearing the low rumble in his chest when he would hum or talk to you. You just loved being close to him.

You sighed quietly as to not alarm him, giving into your desires. You looked over to him as he read and leaned your head against his arm. A silent plea Eddie knew to mean that you wanted his attention and affection.

You heard him chuckle as you screwed up your eyes, “There she is. My baby want some lovin’?” He cooed as he put the magazine on his side table and pulled you into his arms, resting you against his chest gently. You heard him chuckle again as you nodded your head against him with a little excited “mhmm!”, happy to be in his arms finally. “I’ll always have lovin’ to give to you sweetheart.” He laughed as you seemed to almost burrow into him further.

He grabbed your leg and pulled it over to the other side of his body so you were effectively straddling him as you cuddled into his chest. “There you go, I want you as close as possible sweet thing. We can stay like this all night if you want, okay?” He asked, rubbing up and down your back as he placed soft kisses into your hair.

“Thank you baby.” You mumbled against his shirt. “I love you so much Eddie.”

“Oh I love you too sweetness. So fuckin much.” He said, you could hear the smile pulling at his lips as he spoke. You let out a dreamy sigh as he started to hum along to the song that was playing as he continued to rub your back, he was just as ecstatic to have you in his arms as you were to be there.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie @becca-alexa @catacina

[kookieskookiejar]

Alpha! Jeongguk x Omega! Reader

This is a part two of Don't Blame Me, but can be read as a standalone as well :))

Synopsis:

It's been two years since you've moved in with Jeongguk, and since then, the global tour your dance academy was on has since ended long ago, allowing you to have more time to spend with your boyfriend. However, Jeongguk still feels like the two of you have been going around in circles in terms of where your relationship is at. Should Jeongguk make a move to ask you about it? Or is he just being worried for no reason and should just let the relationship grow at its own pace?

Warnings: unprotected s*x, upcoming rut mating, marking, knotting, bre*ding k*nk, really fluffy.

A/N: sorry this took soooo long, mental health has not been looking good lately so...yeah, I hope you guys like this!

Everyday Jeongguk wakes up feeling like the luckiest man in the universe, he can’t believe it’s been two years since you’ve moved in with him.

Your job hasn’t gotten any less busy, and Jeongguk respects that, he’s gotten busier lately too, and recently he just wrapped up a long term project, and now they’re out to celebrate with his friends, and that consists of you, his sister, Jihyo, his Namjoon hyung, and his girlfriend of two years now, yes, the resident third wheeler of the friend group is finally dating, Jihyo’s still doesn’t want to settle down yet, and that’s perfectly fine, in Jeongguk’s opinion, she needs some growing up to do before she sends someone to therapy.

To put things in perspective, he feels like everyone around him, other than his sister, have started the next chapter of their lives, okay maybe that’s a stretch, he’s just feeling a bit stagnant with you after hearing Namjoon talk about how he and his girlfriend are planning on getting a matching couple tattoo after sealing their mating mark.

Is it considered quick to seal the mating mark after two years? Maybe, but they are planning to get married next year, so it wasn’t a hasty decision, Jihyo even chastised them for making the decision only after two years, to which she deemed, too impulsive, so maybe two years is seen as hasty in this time and age, but that doesn’t make Jeongguk feel all that much better about the pace between you and him, not that he’d ever voice that out, he knows you want to take things slowly, you’ve always been a build the foundation type of person.

However, you and Jeongguk have been dating for four years now, and you haven’t brought up about the mating marks before, you did talk about it briefly, but it wasn’t even a serious conversation, although you sounded very much sincere.

So now Jeongguk’s sulking in the pub where all his friends are laughing about something they’re reading on Jihyo’s phone, absently, a pout is on his lips, and his hyung notices it immediately, snapping Jeongguk’s attention away from staring at the rustic decor of the pub.

“Hey, you’re tired, aren’t you? You haven’t been talking all that much tonight,” Namjoon points out, his brows furrowed, he’s always seen Jeongguk as his little brother, brothers from a different mother.

“Nah, I’m okay, I was just spacing out,” Jeongguk dismisses, finishing his drink.

“We can leave if you want,” you say, immediately, preparing to get up from your seat, grabbing your purse.

“Yah, he said he’s gonna buy us drinks with his bonus, don’t you try skimming out on us,” Jihyo complains, arms crossed.

“He’s tired, Jihyo ah, I’ll buy you drinks next time okay,” you promise with that sweet voice you use to get things out of both the siblings, something that Jeongguk can never say no to, to which his sister sighs, nodding begrudgingly.

“Be grateful she loves you, can’t believe my brother stole my best friend,” she says, obviously joking, and Jeongguk nods absentmindedly, letting you lead him out of the pub.

Jeongguk heads home to sleep off the fatigue, but it was probably due to his bad mood and the alcohol that made him sleepy.

When Jeongguk woke up the next morning, he was feeling hot, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary to him, it is summer after all, but what had him questioning was the fact that you were cooking breakfast in the kitchen instead of going for your morning run with Jihyo.

Jeongguk clambers out of bed, messy hair and everything, hurrying to wash up, eager to have your cooking as breakfast.

“Hey. you’re up earlier than expected,” you joke when Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck, lips almost slobbering near where your mating mark should be.

“It’s 9.30, of course I’m up,” Jeongguk says with a whiny voice, you just love to tease him, says that he sounds and looks cute when you do, so he indulges you.

“I don’t know, I thought you’d be more tired when you’re near your rut.”

Jeongguk freezes up at your comment, he was so busy that he hadn’t even noticed his scent had some minor changes over time, and he doused himself in cologne last night, craving for the scent of fresh laundry over his natural scent, so that’s probably why his friends hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I know you’d tell me to sleepover at Jihyo’s,” you say, turning around to run your hands over Jeongguk’s arms comfortingly, the act so sweet, but it instantly has Jeongguk hard.

“But, we, what if I accidentally mark you? What if your heat gets triggered? Then we’d have to-

“Hey, I’m ready, and I’m ready to have our mating marks now, I think it’s time, if you think you’re ready,” you reassured, you know he’s wanted this for quite some time now, but you were nervous, it isn’t an easy decision, choosing to be connected to someone in the closest way possible.

“But you’ll go into heat a bit later, don’t you have any performances lined up?” Jeongguk asked, eyes darting to every corner of your face to make sure you weren’t doing this out of obligation.

“I called out of work once I realised you were going into rut, and I’m really ready, Jeongguk, unless you’re not,” you look at him quizzically, but both of you know there’s no malice behind your tone, and the slight bossiness of your tone is certainly waking him up in more ways than one.

“How long till the brownies are done?” Jeongguk asked with a fluttering heart, he loves your brownies, and making it for breakfast is weird, but you love how weird he is, and you actively indulge in his quirkiness.

“About 20 minutes, think you could make me cum before they’re done?” you ask with a challenging tone, quickly taking off your apron.

“You bet,” Jeongguk says before he wraps his arms around your thighs, carrying you back to the bedroom where he emerged from not too long ago.

Jeongguk throws you on the bed lightly, getting a giggle out of you at the bounciness of the bed.

“Let’s see if you’ll be laughing in a bit, baby,” Jeongguk teases before he captures your lips with his, his lips still taste minty fresh from brushing his teeth.

Jeongguk breaks off the kiss to take off his shirt, his abs looking like they’re sculpted by greek gods under the morning rays.

Jeongguk manhandles you onto his thighs, he’s not a horny teenage alpha who can’t control his urges, but he just enjoys the process of having your cute butt grinding on his clothed cock.

You got the message quickly, rotating your hips in circular motions, arousal dampening Jeongguk’s sweatpants once his length starts to grow under your ministrations, getting turned on by the fact that you’re the only one with this sort of power over him.

“I need you fuck me, Jeongguk, 20 minutes, remember?” you remind him after having caught a whiff of the scent of chocolate mixing with your scents.

“Yeah, sure, baby,” Jeongguk promises, tugging your shirt up to reveal your bare breasts, your nipples pebbling up from the cool air of your shared bedroom, the AC still lingering in the air after you turned it off before leaving the room, catching the attention of your boyfriend, who quickly envelopes the closest nipple he could get to, sucking diligently, his other hand occupying your other boob, twisting, sucking, and licking, your back arching off into his hold, his free hand’s fingers dipping into the curve of your back, he tightens his hold on you before he ceases all actions.

“Present yourself, baby,” Jeongguk says, his voice dropping into a lower octave, his eyes flashing red, he’s not using his alpha voice, Jeongguk would rather chop off his dick than force you into having sex with him, he just knows you get your panties drenched whenever you hear his ‘sexy voice’, as you often call it, which is why you’re quick to get into position, hands and knees on the bed with your ass perched high for Jeongguk’s taking.

Jeongguk mutters curses under his breath at the sight of you, your pretty pussy shining with arousal that flows down to your smooth thighs, Jeongguk is definitely a lucky man.

When he starts dipping his fingers into your core, you whine.

“Just put it in, Guk, I’m ready,” you complain with a whine as you wiggle your butt enticingly, and it worked like magic, his hands smacking one of your cheeks, that recoil is going to kill him.

Then you feel it, the blunt tip finally breaching your walls, if your heat hasn’t started, it definitely has, with the way you get wetter with every inch Jeongguk feeds you, your omega accommodating to your alpha naturally.

When Jeongguk finally sinks his entire length into you, your toes curl at the feeling of being full.

“Can I move, baby?” Jeongguk asks, he knows the two of you are in a time crunch, but he’d rather let his favourite dessert burn than hurt you in any way.

“Yeah you can move,” you say breathlessly, Jeongguk steals your breath away at any situation, whether it’s because he’s fresh out of the shower, dressed up for a date, or merely cooking, he looks flawless executing what he does, especially in bed.

Jeongguk starts off with shallow thrusts, biting on his lower lip at the way your walls hug him right back deeper at every movement.

When Jeongguk feels your walls finally accommodating his size, he increases the pace of his thrusts, groaning when he feels you clenching onto his length when he finally hits that sweet spot that has you whining and body coursing in pleasurable ecstasy, your back arching into his touch, the sight of your round ass catching his attention, smacking your ass, hands grasping for a bit before he lets go, choosing to make his way to your pretty little clit.

Jeongguk knows you’re close, it’s written in the way you’re gripping him in an almost death grip.

“Cum for me, baby, need you to drench this cock so I can pop my knot inside you, fill you up with pups,” Jeongguk says with a groan by your ear before he feels his knot swelling, the added girth pushes you over the edge, your body spasming as you feel your breath being knocked out of you.

Soon after, Jeongguk’s knot starts to deflate, gushes of cum spilling into your womb, and that feeling kick starts this carnal need inside you.

“Need you to mark me, Guk, I’m ready, ready to be your mate,” you confess, still clenching onto him.

Jeongguk halts his movements, but the jerk of his cock gives him away.

“Please, your omega needs you,” you plead, stretching your neck to reveal the tempting expanse of your neck.

“Baby, we should talk about this-

“No, please, I’ve thought about this for a long time now, I’m ready,” you reassured.

“O-okay,” Jeongguk finally agrees, his alpha growling in agreement.

Jeongguk continues on with shallow thrusts while he rubs your clit in quick circles when he finally bites down on your neck, sealing the two of you together, and you would’ve never imagined this feeling.

The feeling of a weight lifted off, your omega that used to feel so restless, now being a part of you and your alpha.

Jeongguk quickly laps up the wound, easing the healing process before he pulls you sideways, wrapping his arms around your figure.

You curl up next to him seamlessly, sighing in contentment.

“When we’re done eating the brownies and your heat strikes again, you have to promise to give me my mating mark too,” Jeongguk says with a slight whine to his voice, the alpha image dissolving right before your eyes.

You weren’t surprised he asked for his own mating mark, the last time you guys discussed about mating marks, he had insisted on you marking him.

“I promise, now hurry up and deflate your knot or my brownies are really going to burn,” you say with a huff.

“Hush, there’s still 9 minutes left, we can just waddle to the oven together,” Jeongguk teases, which earns him a playful slap on his butt that’s conveniently within reach.

You definitely won’t regret being Jeongguk’s mate.

[niphredil-14]

Hey babes!! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Jason Todd x reader where the reader gets hit on by a stranger, which leads Jason to become somewhat jealous and a little possessive (a healthy amount of course... 😭). Reader wears a necklace with a J on it which he specifically points out to stranger to sort of prove a point that they are indeed taken, that's when he sort of leaves them alone.. Jason on the other hand has a lot in store for reader, specifically in the bedroom.. breeding kink??? Sorry, my mind is all over the place right now 😭

Sorry it's my first time writing a request I don't really know what I'm doing.. but have a great day!!

Sorry this took so long to write, I've been struggling with writer's block, burnout, and some mental health stuff, also my job sucks ass and is super draining. gotta love retail, huh? anyways I hope you enjoy and also sorry that it is so short. I am trying to clear out my inbox on a random boost of motivation so that I can move onto accepting requests for a new fandom!!

White was creeping into the edge of their blurry vision, and their hands, placed against the full body floor mirror for some semblance of support, were shaking about as much as the rest of their body. Their feet had been kicked apart so that Jason could stand between them as he pistoned in and out of their hole, a rough ebb and flow giving them chance to catch their breath. One of his hands rested on their hip, and the other one on their shoulder. They had been stripped entirely, except for a simply, dainty necklace hanging around their neck. The charming J pendant rested just between their collarbones, and was being forced to swing away from them before falling back onto their clavicle, like a single pendulum taken from a Newton's Cradle and being left to swing alone.

"You look so good like this, sweetheart." Jason drawled, his Gotham accent made thicker by his arousal as he left the 'arr' sound in 'sweetheart' to hang in the air, separate from the rest of the word's syllables. "Such a shame your friend from earlier won't get to ever see you like this, since you're all mine." A whine left their throat as they tilted their head to the side, letting it fall limp. He could feel them clench around him. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He asked, though it sounded more like a taunt. "You like bein' mine, dollface?" His teasing only grew more eager. "You like belongin' to me?" They let out the most pathetic sounding whine of affirmation, which was met with a dark chuckle from their lover, followed by the index and middle fingers of his hand, sliding from their shoulder underneath the chain of the necklace, and pulling it into their neck, until their skin puffed out around it. The sigh they let out was pure filth. "You're so fuckin' desperate to be mine, I'd bet you'd let me breed you right now."

"Fuck! Please, Jay!" They called out, and his hips stilled. He tugged the necklace a tiny bit more, and leaned so that his head was next to theirs, their eyes met in the mirror, and Jason parted his lips.

"Are you sure, hon? 'Cause I will, and at that point, there'll be no goin' back, you know? I'd fill ya until I was sure it took, and then I'd go out and buy you a ring first thing in the mornin.' You sure you want that, Y/n? For us to have a family? For you to really be mine, forever?" They nodded breathlessly. "'S not enough, Darlin,' I need to hear ya say it, I'm not gonna take any chances here." His voice was rushed and breathy, and with all of his emotion, his accent made him near unintelligible, but they knew him, knew what he was asking for. They turned their head, fighting against the necklace cutting into them near painfully, and moved one of their hands off of the mirror to place on Jason's cheek.

"I'm sure, Jason. I want to be yours completely, I want it to be us forever." The softest smile graced his face, as his eyes became visibly glossy, and releasing the necklace, letting its pendant rest gently on their skin, he moved his head down to slowly kiss them as he began to move his hips again.

I meant for this to be kinky I swear, I fully blame my shitty day for how fluffy this is. lmk if you want me to write another where its rougher or something.

[n0brainjustvibes]

I've read a couple of fics where Amy Dallon posts capefic on PHO, and her notes would absolutely fit the AO3 author stereotype.

"sorry this is late guys I had to cure more cancer than expected ;-; thank you for the patience!!"

"HIIII I'M BACK !! net is finally back up :D leviathan hit my city, shit's been crazy. have an extra long Glory Girl xreader as penance :3"

"I am so so sorry this took so long and sorry in advance for any typi m g errors I lost two fingers. has been the most INSANE couple weeks you would no tbelieve it. gang wars etc and i got recruitment scouted by the SLAUGHTERHOUSE FUCKJNG 9 plus mental health stuff and family issues :// so yeah. its a short chapter today. sorry"

"hi! typing this from the birdcage :3"

[teyamsatan]

ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ: ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ 'ᴛɪʟ ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴜʀɴɪɴ' ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋʙᴜʀɴᴇʀ

pairing: dilf!Jake Sully x (f)human/avatar!reader

synopsis: Jake struggles to adapt with the way being next to you is making him feel.

this story will contain an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship, and dark themes (smut, mental health, death, violence, infidelity), so pls read at your own discretion.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, age-gap (23 vs 43), (a little) smut at the end

wc: 6.1k words

a/n: umm, hi there?? do you remember me? i know it's been such a long time and I am so so sorry, but I am backkk besties!!! i am so happy to finally be able to complete chapter two and I hope you enjoy because it's quickly picking up pace. i really hope this isn't garbage, i'm so so out of practice and so insecure about my writing, but i still hope you are able to understand and enjoy this, because i am so excited to finally be back writing.

ps: this story will move perspectives and timelines a lott, so i hope it's not too confusing but pls do let me know if it is and i'll figure something out xx

replies and reblogs are massively appreciated, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: tanhi - bioluminescent freckles, paskalin - sweet berry (term of endearment)

series masterlist (x)

Maybe I'm just not better than this, I haven't tried Maybe life's less romantic when I don't wanna die You'd think I'd be a fast learner But guess I won't ever mind crisping up on your backburner

Jake has always felt comfortable in nature. Even back on Earth, the comfort of a bed was a luxury mostly lost on him throughout his life. It was peaceful, and comforting, feeling the ground beneath his feet, beneath his skin, malleable and nurturing, like a warm embrace. It was a given here, with the connection the Na’vi had with the world around them, with the forest surrounding them, that he would become one with it, too, that he would find solace in it. He did, most days. Just not tonight, as he lay on the slightly damp surface with an arm underneath his head for support, trying to find meaning in the stars that were still so beautiful and bright they took his breath away, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and his wandering thoughts. 

What was that? This whole day, that conversation that was still ringing in his ears like an insipid echo, making sweat bead on his forehead and trickle down his temples, until they were one with the soil. Why would you say that? What possessed him to confide in you about parts of his life he forsook, he gave up what felt like eternities ago?

He’s never truly noticed you before. The shy, timid girl who was far too attuned to others’ feelings to be able to overlook the disdain still present in some members’ of the clan when it came to anything human, always holed up in that lab he hated, that was at odds with everything he’s come to known and too much like everything he was trying his best to leave behind. It used to be different back then, when you were young, just a child craving connection and companionship, always tied to the hip to his eldest son, Neteyam, where Spider always took more to his two middle children. Par for the course, he thought. You and Neteyam were much alike, and somehow still managed to complement each other well, at the same time. He used to think you’d be good for him, back then. Not that he’d ever tell Neytiri that, the seemingly blasphemous idea, but yes - he thought that, even before you got an Avatar. But now, the thought made him uneasy - queasy, even. It wouldn’t be right. Your relationship would be frowned upon, and the Omaticaya would never look at you and see the future Tsa’hik that’s meant to lead them, to interpret their deity’s way. You were too fragile, too tuned in to your own and others’ emotions to be able to overcome it, and it would break you. Being with Neteyam would break you. 

The night was torturous and slow, so many thoughts eating away at him like a disease. By the time Eclipse passed, he was ready for this trip to be over. Being here with you alone wasn’t good, he realises now. It was a mistake, to talk to you, to look into your eyes, to notice you. Because now that he did, he couldn’t stop. The way your Avatar body twitched in sleep, the way he couldn’t help wonder what you were doing in your human body - were you sleeping, like you should be? Was this on your mind, this night, the same way it was his? Were you cramming everything you once used to do in a day in the few hours you had in your now secondary body?

“Oh, kid. You better know how to fix this better than I do.” 

“Is the Avatar safe?”

Norm trusted Jake with his life, and still, he knew he had to ask. The scientist in him, the Avatar program leader de facto, he’s always taken every responsibility, every chance to prove himself to the Na’vi and to his late mentor, Grace Augustine, very seriously. And that included taking care of you. You were not his blood, but you were his family, and he wanted to protect you, he wanted you to be alright. And so when Jake suggested getting some much needed tutelage, he was happy to wait until the night to hear all about it. 

“You know it is.”

“How did it go?”

“Well, I think. He was right, I guess. I definitely feel a bit more comfortable outside of the village, of all the prying eyes.” 

“Amazing. Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m… not sure. I think… I overstepped.” The blush in your cheeks and eyes glued to your fiddling feet made Norm’s brown eyebrow rise, a small grimace mirroring the one marring your beautiful, soft features. Still, he placed a hand on your head, gently brushing the stray hairs that were raised from the hours of being in the cryocapsule.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“He… told me about his life on earth. About his father, and I… made a comment. I have no idea how he reacted to it, but now that I’m here, I have no chance to fix it.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not as bad as you think. We always tend to overthink in our heads, and, as humans, we always tend to see the worst in ourselves. You, more than most.”

After helping you out, making sure you were settled on your wobbly, weak knees, he gave your shoulder a small squeeze and left to his quarters, but not before telling you one last thing.

“I think someone overstepping once in a while is exactly what a man who’s always obeyed needs. Go to sleep, love.” 

The next morning, you felt dizzy as you woke up in the forest, slight groan audible with every stretch that allowed your sore muscles to loosen. You weren’t surprised to see Jake already up, busying himself with gutting a fish which would most likely constitute your breakfast. You gulped at the sight of him, veiny arms expertly handling the animal, his relaxed postured at odds with the slight frown on his face. Was that because of you? Was he mad at you? What possessed you to talk to him like he was a friend and not the Toruk Makto, the mighty Olo’eyktan? What possessed you to confess about an old crush, that died with your innocence about the world, about the same time you finally started to notice how the Omatikaya, particularly Neytiri, have looked at you all your life. 

“Um, good morning.” 

His eyes flickered over to you, lingering for a second longer than they needed to on your golden eyes before turning back swiftly, and the expression he adorned, a mixed between shame, guilt and desire, would have been obvious to anyone with more life experience, but not to you. Still, you noticed the blush in his cheeks, and couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in your chest at what… or whom, might be the cause of it. 

“‘Morning, kid. D’you sleep well?” 

“I guess. You?” 

“One of us have to stay up and keep an eye out for predators, you know. Can’t have you get eaten before I’m done teaching you how to defend yourself.” His smile was teasing, and if it was an effort to put your mind at ease, you did appreciate it. It made what you had to say next come out easier.

“Listen, Jake… what I said last night… it was none of m-“

“It’s alright, kid. It’s been a while since anyone’s contradicted me, apart from my wife, so…” his laugh was rugged and unforced, and you couldn’t help join in at the sonorous melody that rang in your ears and all of a sudden couldn’t imagine being without. 

“So you don’t hate me?” 

Jake’s eyes settled on your own, but not before flickering to your parted lips, so focused and eager, you were clinging on to his every word, waiting desperately to be put out of your misery. 

“No, kid. I don’t hate you.” 

Jake didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he did know one thing: it was just a stupid conundrum, nothing more. He didn’t feel anything for you, he was just taken aback by someone who seemed to be a lot more intuitive and incisive about someone’s inner workings than he gave you credit for. But that’s it. Just because you talked about something he cared about, that nobody asked him about, just because he confessed to you feelings he hasn’t said out loud in more than 24 years… that didn’t mean anything. He had a mate. A mate he loved, a mate he was sworn to forever. He had a family, children, a life. It was nothing. So he did his duty and helped you, keeping a safe distance and the conversation to a minimum, outside of instructions he ought to give you. Still, despite his apprehensions, being with you was easy. You were docile and listened well, you were quiet and kept to yourself, and, in the moments you did talk, there was a pureness, a light to your heart that made his own feel lighter. 

“Good form. Now focus on the target and, when you’re ready…”

He watched as the arrow flew at high speed and travelled the length of the forest until it hit the ground next to a tree marked with an X - a makeshift target, but it did the job. 

“Release.” 

“Sorry.” Your ashamed disposition was as clear as day on your face and in your body language, and the purple twinge in your cheeks brought forth the luminosity of your tanhi and he hated himself for noticing it to begin with. 

“Don’t be. You did well. Just make sure you draw all the way back before releasing. The target’s a bit narrower than you’re used to, so you’re doing well.” 

His eyes softened taking you in. A sigh reverberated from deep within his chest and he said the words before he could stop himself, fully knowing he might regret them later. 

“Let’s focus on your tracking instead for a little while. A change of scenery might do you well.”

He knew he should leave the tracking skills for back to the village, for someone else to teach you. He should just hurry back home - to his life, to his wife, to the normalcy he’s both craving and desperately afraid of. Any extra time spent with you is time where he could talk and say something, confess something else that is better left unsaid, fall prey to your uncanny ability to see through him, to will out words he hasn’t even realised he’s been dying to say out loud. 

The ground was wet and cold, accentuated by the heavy moisture surrounding you. it still took getting used to, the air, breathing it in and out, like you were born to do so, such a colossal departure from the mask that covered your face for most of 23 years of your life. Still, it was a blessing, and one you made sure to appreciate with every breath you took. You forgot a little about it, all the gratitude, as the air felt particularly dense and thick as you took it in, as the man you now called mentor crawled skilfully like a steady, stealthy apex predator, little to no evidence of his presence other than the hand that was rested carefully on the small of your back, sending bouts of electricity all throughout your body. His voice was quiet as he spoke it near your ear, a velvet shroud that enveloped you and stirred something in you, something primal and carnal, something you’ve never felt before. What was happening to you? What was he doing to you?

“Lower, kid. The lower you are to the ground, the fainter your scent, the easier to hide.” 

“I-it’s… hard.” 

You could hear his smirk as he answered your quiet protestation, and you wondered whether he found it endearing or irksome, praying and hoping with as much power as you still had left in you that it was the former. 

“I know, girl. Guess we’ll have to train those abs for more core strength, huh?” 

You were happy your back was to him so he couldn’t see the violent blush haunting your cheeks, but even so, there was little you could do about your rampant heart or your heaving breath.

“I can hear your heartbeat like it’s echoing through the whole forest. And if I can, every other animal on a half a click radius can, too. You have to learn to calm your mind. Can you do that for me?”

Although what he was asking of you seemed impossible, considering his touch set your body and soul ablaze and your mind’s already erratic rumination seemed to reach an incandescent high, you tried, and although every muscle in your body hurt and ached, much like the first few times you allowed yourself to train in this body, you did as you were told, and, by early afternoon, you managed to track a pack of Yarik without even as much of a perk of the ear to give you away. You remember still, those early days, like they were happening to you now, as you stood here, in your bedroom, as the tears blurred the familiar space, the rock you were holding so tightly in your hand that it was cutting through your palm until all that inundated your sight was a watercolour red stain. You should have known then. What would follow. When he touched you, how it made you feel, you should have known to stay away. Norm once told you life, especially in your 20s, was about the joys and miseries of growing pains, but if you knew, how the journey was full of polarising extremes that pulled at every fibre of your being, how the high was insurmountable, but the pain was unbearable, maybe you would have thought twice before jumping in. 

You wonder if he knew, then. If he felt it, too. You wonder if he realised that this was the beginning of the end, if the pull you felt was the same one that drove him to what came after, to all he ended up putting on the line. You wondered if it was all a ploy, getting you alone, or if he truly just wanted to help, innocent and undiscerning, just a dutiful Olo’eyktan. You thought you knew his heart, and how much it hid and how much it hurt, you thought you came to know it all through all this time, but as the bleeding in your heart mirrored your gashing palm, you weren’t sure anymore. 

“Come.”

The Yarik were all gone now, unfrightened by your unassuming presence, which you took as a win. Still, you almost flinched when his now much louder voice rang above the quiet murmur of the forest. 

“Where?”

“You worked hard today, so you deserve a break. And I know just the spot.” 

Jake wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, what he was about to do, but he knew you needed something to break apart the times of pain and struggle. It was something he’s learnt, being here, on Pandora, as one of the people, that there was more to life than duty, than sacrifice and pain, then the daily struggle of fitting in, of pitching in, of simply existing. You had to live life, face it, enjoy it. And he wanted you to have that, especially now. He understood, more than most, what it was like to be inhibited and trapped to a space or a time, paralysed, literally or figuratively to your immutable circumstance. For him, it was his legs, trapping him in a body he hated and couldn’t recognise, in habits he took on just like the soldier he’s always been, because there was nothing else he could do. For you, it was your human body, that confined you to the lab, to a mask, to a life that could never be experienced fully, until now. So, despite a small part, probably the logical part of his mind, telling him he should just keep the training going or go home, he decided to share with you a place he found while hunting for food last night. And when he saw your face as you took it in, all doe-eyed and bushy tailed, ears twitching enthusiastically and a beautiful, innocent smile taking over your whole face, he knew he made the right call. He found his own smile brewing without being able to contain it, your joy so contagious, it was like the whole world shone just a little brighter than it had a few minutes ago.

“Jake… I love it. Thank you.”

The roar of the waterfall crashing on the otherwise peaceful lake almost drowned your words, and he laughed at the way you were tentatively approaching the water, as if scared that the caress of it on your skin might hurt your already aching muscles. 

“Good. Let’s see how you like it up close.” 

And with that, and a gentle tap on your shoulder, a loud splash ensued where you hit the water. He laughed yet again at the way you emerged from it, wet and startled and almost as if you could not believe what just happened. 

“I-I… you… I cannot believe you did that!” 

He couldn’t help how much fun it was, doing this, being with you - it was as if for the first time in ages, in decades, being alive was fun again. It was as if this forest was completely separated from his own, from what was waiting for him back home, the unsurmountable pressure that plagued him every second of every day, especially since the humans returned. 

“Believe it, kid. You need to learn to let loose once in a while, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, but seemed intrigued by his preposition. 

“I will if you will.” 

And so he did. And for the next few hours, life was easygoing and fun, and spending time in your presence felt like coming out for a deep breath when it felt like he’d been drowning. He’s learnt you didn’t really know how to swim, and that the first song you’ve ever learnt on piano was one you deeply related to, that he’s made you promise you’d sing to him, and he found out plenty of small things, but nothing important, or of substance. It was clear to him more and more you loved being the one asking the questions and never the one answering them, and, soon enough, here you were again, curious as a cat about things nobody else was when it came to him.

“Did you ever expect it?” the sun was still shining brightly upon you both, warming your strong, supple bodies as you floated in the otherwise cold water. Eclipse wasn’t too far behind, but right now, neither of you particularly seemed to care. 

“What’s that?” You continued floating, looking intently at the sky - focused or too embarrassed to look at him, Jake couldn’t really tell. 

“Everything. What you did, what happened. Did you ever expect it, when you were offered a place on a shuttle to Pandora?” Once again, Jake was taken aback by your propensity of asking deep, profound, intimate questions like you were asking about the weather. He wondered briefly if you realised that that’s not how most people talked.

“No… I didn’t. I didn’t care, about the job or the mission. I cared about the money. And later, about the chance to get my legs back.” 

“Do you ever miss it? Being… normal.” 

“I was given a second chance - a purpose bigger than me, bigger than the measly life I left behind. I -“ this finally got your attention, and for the first time since your first question, you adjusted your position in the water so that you were fully facing him, inquiring eyes like beads of light and focus, intent on taking in every expression, every shift in mood, every slight adjustment of his face. You tried again, this time more forceful and intense, this time almost demanding of his full attention.

“That wasn’t my question. It’s a privilege, and an honour, to be who you are…”

He struggled as he always did to stifle a roll of his eyes and the speech he’s heard a million times before, from his wife, or his Tsa’hik, from every villager of the Omatikaya, from every other tribe leader he’s ever met through diplomatic missions. The answer he always kept at the ready was caught in his throat, because you kept going.

“…but I’m sure it’s also tiring, and hard. And lonely. So do you ever miss it? Do you ever wish things could go back to the way they were? Do you ever wish you didn’t have to be there for everybody all the time?”

He looked at you, pleading, not knowing whether he needed you to stop or keep going, only knowing it hurt, being torn at the seams like that between two choices that both led to heartbreak and epiphanies he wasn’t ready to face nor strong enough to deal with on his own, especially right now.

“Kid…” 

“I went too far again, didn’t I? What is wrong with me?” 

The attempt to get out of the lake was swiftly overthrown by his much stronger physique keeping you in place, caging you in between the edge of the lake and his muscular arms. Jake wasn’t an emotional man, he wasn’t one to be overcome with feelings that could cloud his judgement, that could interfere with a plan of action and yet, standing there, in that moment, your wide golden eyes looking fearfully and surprisedly up at him, the rapid pulse of your heart clearly visible in your carotid artery running up your neck, he felt his mind clouded and his own heart trembling with the overwhelming, unexpected urge to taste you, to feel those lips crashing over his, your tongues intertwined, his fingers wander in wondrous places he was sure no one else had before. He needed you, like he’s scarcely ever needed anything else, like he rarely ever allowed himself to. But you weren’t his, you never would be. And this was wrong and immoral, and it didn’t matter - that you seemed to be able to see right through him, that everything you said cut like a knife through all the bullshit and pretence, that your pupils were so wide they were swallowing the golden of your irises, that he could feel that you wanted it too. None of it mattered. 

“You didn’t go too far. You just… see things. And ask things, no one else ever does. And it scares me, kid. You scare the shit out of me.” 

“Me? I’m nothing. I’m… just a girl.”

“You’re everything.”

It was then you knew, that the crush was not a crush, it was so much more, too much more. It was then you knew you were heading for a potentially life-altering, life-ending fall that would break all your bones and leave you tethered on the ground, shattered and broken, unable to ever be put back together the same. And so you tried. You broke the moment that felt eternal, even though it pained you, to know at some point he wouldn’t be looking at you the way he had been then, and asked him to go home. You were quiet and compliant all the way back, and he made it easier on you by a performance of the same caliber. You didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse, that the moment clearly affected him too, enough that both of you looked like dogs with their tails between their tails as you arrived back in the village, without having spoken another word to the other, without as much as risking a glance in the other’s direction.

It was for the best. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could come of entertaining this little troubled happenstance, and truth be told, you couldn’t wait for your life to get back to normal, where he barely spoke to you and you were free to withdraw within yourself the way you knew you had to in order to heal. You were able to get over your mindless crush once before, and you were certain to be able to do it again, especially given you would had the perfect opportunity in the annual clan celebration that you had come just in time for. 

“How was it?” Neteyam was quietly hopeful about your trip with his dad, eager to be able to call you one of the People as soon as he possible could. Any effort to aid that, to allow you closer to a life he knew you deserve and knew you could make your own, was beneficial and encouraged in his mind. You loved Neteyam, and appreciate him for who he was and what he meant to you - a brother, a best friend, a confidant. You told him most things and yet, some things were just too ugly to share, and so you didn’t. Some things were better off swept under the rug, praying the lump they made was not big enough to trip on. 

“Great. I think he was right, being away from all the prying eyes helped. Guess I’ll just have to show you tomorrow. Who knows? I might even be better than the mighty warrior soon, eh?” 

He threw his head back and laughed, and you joined in his joy, already feeling better just being away from him, leisurely walking trough the village and helping out with anyone who needed a hands for tonight’s celebration. 

“Dream on, paskalin. Although, you could show me what you learnt tonight, and maybe even win a prize in the knife throwing contest. Better than sulk all night in a corner the way I know you’re itching to do.” 

“Actually, I wasn’t planning on doing that. Not tonight.” 

“Oh?” You wish you hadn’t said that, because you should have realised Neteyam would be curious and it was a subject you didn’t feel ready to talk to anyone about, especially a man, a beautiful, glorious, obviously-experienced one, such as your best friend. 

“I just mean, it’s time, you know? To try to live my life. Maybe even find someone with whom to share it with.” 

“Y-you mean… like a mate?” 

Neteyam looked taken aback by your confession, so much so that he stopped in the middle of the path, making two children bump into his legs and fall down behind him. It took a lot to make Neteyam flustered, and so you couldn’t understand why your words affected him so much. Was it so unsettling to people, the thought of an Avatar finding love on the planet that wasn’t quite home, but was the only chance at home you would ever get? Were you so repulsive as a person that the one who knew you the best thought it hard to digest that you could ever be loved by a man? 

“Forget about it, Neteyam. I’ll be at the celebration, alright? I should go get ready.” 

You left before you could hear his excuses or explanations - you knew you were sensitive, probably too sensitive. You knew you were probably overreacting, and his words didn’t have any malintent, and you knew he was most likely just taking a second to adjust to a new stage of your life you’ve never shared with him before. You knew all of these and more, and yet, your heart was tired and bruised, your mind a tumultuous whirlwind of doubt and misery. You needed time, time to heal, time to think. Time you didn't have, when the celebration was upon you.

You almost wanted to laugh now, months after that night happened, at how stupid you had been that night, how desperate and pathetic. You knew about some Na'vi, certain warriors who loved the idea of humans, of experimenting with them, of using them. You've heard the stories, you've seen the scientists coming back to the lab with them, you've been around when they talked about how good it was, how necessary the release, how passionate and life-changing the experience. In your head, that was exactly what you needed then: some sex with some random Na'vi who wanted to show you a good time, help you forget about the one you really wanted. It wasn't hard enough to find one that night, especially after you won your prize in the knife throwing competition, when the warmth of liquid courage was still embedded deep within your throat and soul, much to Neteyam's dismay. Still, the performance attracted attention, of one man in particular you cared about. Strong, 10 feet tall and muscular, he was looking at you like a meal and right then, you wanted nothing more to be devoured. You wondered what your life would have been like if that night went differently than it did. You wondered...

He barely noticed it, his wife’s touches or his clan members’ words of admiration or respect, not when the only thing his mind could focus on was the way his hand was caressing your shoulder and down your arm in gentle and intimate touches that felt too familiar for two people who have seemingly barely ever interacted before. His skin crawled at the sweet, shy smile you were sending his way and at the slight tint of purple he could see in your cheeks. You were too pure for this, Jake knew. Too pure for the intentions clear on his face that he didn’t think you fully understood, how this was all a game, a conquest, how you were a prize to be won, a trophy to be paraded around to the Na’vi who loved to brag about fucking the Avatars, the humans, the aliens. It was a game to him, and you… you weren’t a game to be played, not to Jake. 

To his surprise, he realised he was angry with you. Angry that you were humouring him, that you were giving into it, that you were enjoying it. That guy was not good enough for you, and you should know that. You should know that for your first time being touched, being someone else’s, you needed someone who knew how to handle you, how to make you feel good, show you what it feels like to give in to your wildest dreams and fantasies. You needed someone to teach you. The fury bubbling just beneath the surface worried him.

You weren’t his. You were free to do as you wished, and the thoughts that plagued him as the mother of his children was sitting in his lap, perfectly unaware, were enough to pool other feelings, like guilt and shame, and form a heady concoction of emotions that he knew sooner or later would explode all around him. None of the feelings trumped the relief that washed over him as soon as he saw Lo’ak approach the two of you and break apart the scene, and right then, in that moment, Jake never felt more grateful for his troublemaker son and his propensity for meddling in other people’s business.

You looked disappointed with the interruption, slightly irked at his son and at the way the hand that was running up and down your thigh was now vacant from the spot you obviously thought it belonged on. The boy was clearly annoyed at Lo’ak, and a smirk breeched the carefully constructed expression resting on the Olo’eyktan’s face - annoyed or not, everyone knew better than to challenge one of his sons. So, with a careful goodbye, he was gone, leaving you gesticulating widely in his direction and clearly despondent with the outcome. It wasn’t long before you left for your tent, and Jake knew that if he was to survive this night, he’d have to be careful not to give in to the one thing he wished for the most in the world. 

Your shower was hotter than what you were used to, hot enough to hopefully scald away the shame and embarrassment you felt now that you were sober once more. Your life seemed to be comprised mostly of those, recently, and while it was somewhat easy to forget how badly you fared in training your Avatar body once you got back to your bedroom and the safe confines of the labs, this new, fresh development lingered like a cold sore, painful whenever you remembered it. Did anyone else apart from Lo’ak see you, shamelessly flirting and allowing a Na’vi warrior to feel you up? Did everyone know how desperately you wanted someone to take you away and make you forget about the one man you actually wanted, the man who made all the other ones pale in comparison, the one man who you couldn’t have? You knew it was so wrong, how badly you craved his touch, what effect even a fleeting image of him in the back of your mind had on you, how your slick was running down your legs, how your brain couldn’t stop conjuring all the ways he could teach you how to be, how to love, how to live. How you knew his touch would ruin you and put you back together, kill you and finally bring you to life. 

As you fastened your towel onto your body and opened the door to your bedroom, you were startled to find the one man you couldn't shake from your mind sitting on your bed, eyes wandering over your barely dry body.

“God, Jake, you scared me!”

You couldn't believe he was in your room, as if by thinking about him hard enough you manifested him here. He was so tall, so much bigger than you as you stood now, in your human body, frail and delicate and so easy to break. He barely fit on your bed and in your room, taking most of the walking space, so much so you struggled to adjust your position to face him properly.

“…What are you doing here?” 

“What were you doing with that grunt at the party?”

You couldn't believe your ears, settling on a double take as you considered his question carefully, mulling over every word in your mind, as if doing so will finally reveal a secret meaning to it that you couldn't quite understand yet.

“Pardon?” 

“You heard me, kid.”

His words were dry and humourless. There was no levity to them, or to the situation, the room filled with thick tension, and for the first time in your life, you were almost...scared of him. Why did he care?

“I… he… we…”

“That’s what I thought. Why him? If you want someone to mate, I’m sure there’s better options out there.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jake.”

You started turning around, dizzy from the way his presence was making you feel and tired of giving him so much power to do so. You didn't manage to, though, as his large hand caught your forearm and held you in place, and when you were forcefully turned back to look at him, you saw it all. The hurt. The anger. The... betrayal. The jealousy.

“No, this isn’t how this works. You always ask questions and get me talking about shit I haven’t said out loud in decades, or ever. You’re not going shy on me now, not anymore. So why him?” 

Fuck it.

“Because it’s not you, ok?! Because it can’t be you! And I don’t know if you’ve realised this, but it’s not like I have a line of men willing to mate or even be seen with a human, an alien, a sky demon. So it has to be him! That’s why.” 

“Kid…”

The tears were pooling in your eyes like beaded pearls making your vision blurry, and the struggle with which you've been trying to remove yourself from his grasp finally paid off because you did it, you finally manage to break free, but it was too late. You were exhausted, and you knew it was time to lay it all on the table, once and for all, for him to know, and to disprove, for him to break your heart so you could finally move on.

“No, Jake! You’re in my head, all the time. It’s messing with my mind, the deluded reality I’ve been living in. You talk to me, and you notice me, and you give me attention. You touch me, and you look at me like…”

Soft sobs broke your words apart and let their meaning linger all around you, sounding like infinite echoes in the room. It would all be over soon.

“...Like you want me. And I know you don’t, and I know it’s not real, and it hurts me! So I need something else, I need someone else, I need someone to show me there’s other men out there, to pull me out of this nightm-“

His lips, soft and needy, not at all like you imagined them to be, ceased your pleading words before you got a chance to speak them. It took a second, just one second, for you to understand what was happening, to process the way the kiss was everything you've ever wanted and more than you've ever dreamed about, the way he was desperate and hungry for your touch, for you to reciprocate his feelings... so you did. And you melted under his touch, and before long, the whole world disappeared from view, and there were no consequences to your actions, and all you knew, all you needed... was him.

You were both panting when you finally came up for air, and all you wanted was more. More. A little more. Always more.

“Fuck, kid. You’ve got no idea how much I want you. But I’ll show you.” His hand wandered down your much smaller body, until his large fingers found the knot of your bathrobe, that he skilfully undoes, before sliding them over your soaked folds. “Shit. Look how wet you are for me. Let me show you, please.” 

With a nod, you dropped your head backwards and knew, in your heart, whatever was next would be the beginning of the end, of you, of him, of everything you’ve both worked so hard for and yet, all you felt was unadulterated, heavenly, euphoric bliss. 

Maybe I blame my mother bleeding into my stride Maybe it was my father and his wandering eyes (It's their fault that) I'll always be in your corner 'Cause I don't feel alive 'til I'm burnin' on your backburner

taglist:@yagirlheree @mashiromochi @deepdarktower @tojisleftarm@childofgod-05 @youngpersonaathletebear @cinetrix @hinataashoyos @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @misscaller06 @v1l-ismissing @legendarynoodlebowl@analuw @imjustcal @the-fractured-eye @pandoraontop @sweetirilly @kouyoumarryme @blxkstar @ok-boke @myheartfollower @the-mourning-moon @pandoraslxna @jakexneytiri @blue-slxt @kingjulian0o9 @erenjaegerwifee @babyduk213 @@toocoldoutsideforyou

[pyrookami]

The call

Fren normally loved working with David. That was usually because the lone human on the small supply depot in the void between solar systems was not normally this quiet and strange. Fren's species did have trouble with humans expressive faces since their own was mainly carapace and they communicated feelings through pheromones. But this cycle David's usual smile was gone and his laughter that would ring out through comms whenever he told a bad joke or saw a skree mating dance was now silent. In their external excursion suits, or as David called them "jogging suits," Fren could only see a part of David's face as he floated in the zero gravity for some reason starring off into the darkness for some reason.

After watching silently for a moment as both David and his special vacuum welding tools simply floated Fren decided enough was enough and keyed his communicator.

"Engineer David you have been staring off into space for approximately ten units is there a problem?"

Strangely the human appeared to flinch at the sudden breaking of the silence, odd since in Fren's experience very little could actually harm the death world species. so quieter and with less intensity he keyed his comm.

"Engineer David are you all right?"

It took a few moments for an answer to come forth from the human as he collected his tools from around him and seemed to gather his thoughts at the same time.

"Sorry boss kinda got lost in thought there for a moment. It wont happen again ill finish up these last couple seals and we can head back into the nice cozy station."

There it was his usual tone and even a bit of laughter. what thoughts could have caused such a jovial creature such dark and pensive silence for so long?

"If you do not mind Friend David. What thoughts were you lost in that had your usual joviality overwhelmed?"

With a chuckle David began welding two metal composite sheets together to patch the meteorite hole before answering.

"Oh it was just the call of the void messing with my mood. Wondering how it would go if i was to drift off into the literal void you know what i mean?"

in shock Fren stared at the human, to the human who had trouble with the blank faces of the arachnian it was hard to tell what was going on as it seemed that there was something wrong. after looking around to make sure nothing was behind him David maneuvered over to his eight-legged counterpart and waved a hand in front of Fren's primary eyes. the motion achieved its goal of pulling Fren out of his shocked stupor only for the arachnian to embrace his human coworker with four limbs and use his remaining free limbs to maneuver the duo to the air lock. Fren did not release his friend until the air lock ha d cycled and opened into the interior of the station.

"WHOA HEY!"

"Engineer David you are to report to doctor Shulo immediately for psychiatric evaluation and are not to work until i have a clean mental bill of health for you and your thoughts of self termination have ceased."

Before the human could respond he was forced out of the airlock and it was closed behind him.

"Well time to freak out the doc i guess."

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 10

Star Crossed Lover

Series Masterlist

Previous Part: True Romantic Next Part: Promotion

Word Count: 10,607 (I am SO sorry lol)

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of violence, blood, and injury. Allusions and discussion of suicide attempts. Please proceed with caution and and good judgment for your own personal mental health 💞

The drive to your team welcoming at the winery made 45 minutes of highway feel simultaneously far too long yet excruciatingly short.

After what happened in the corridor, you really didn't have much to say. The only words really spoken between you and Steve was you thanking him for getting the car door for you, then him insisting that you played your music.

After a few minutes on the road, Steve stole a few quick glances at you to try and gauge how you were really feeling, but your head was leaned all the way back against the headrest, and your eyes were always either closed or staring absentmindedly on the scenery around you.

He took no offense, in fact, he was glad that you were calm at the very least. Deep down he knew you were always feeling at least a little worse- if not a lot worse than you expressed to anyone. But like always, there was a time and place to address issues. Pulling into a parking spot at the winery and putting his car into park was not the time, nor the place.

Taking a quick peek through his rearview mirror, he could see a few special guests had already arrived, and he could only hope it would help ease the distress you never deserved to have inflicted on you.

Steve turned to you with an empathetic grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Last chance to run away?"

You turned your head to look at him with a lazy smile, and an unexpected giggle. "I can't run in these shoes."

"If it gets too overwhelming, you know I'll be here. Just tell me, I'll sneak you away for a bit of fresh air." He reminded you.

"You're making me feel like I'm about to be eaten alive" You raised your eyebrow.

Steve shook his head. "No, you're not. I've been on this team for so many years I stopped counting and even I still get overwhelmed by all of them sometimes. Things like this can be a lot even on a perfectly good day."

"I'm guessing I'll relax after a glass of wine or two" You reassured him and yourself. "It'll be like nothing ever happened, nobody even has to know."

That sent red flags raising high in Steve's head. Now he knew for sure you were in worse shape than you were letting on.

"Bug," Steve shot you a serious glare. "You can be sad, it's okay to be sad."

"I'll be sad later." You surrendered. "Right now I'm so happy and honored to be part of such a welcoming and supportive team. We're all going to have a wonderful night, and everything is going to be fine."

"Promise me right now that after this is over you'll cut the bullshit and stop telling me you're fine." Steve held out his pinky to you. All you did was narrow your eyes at him, you knew he could read you like a book far below his intelligence level, and it was equal parts endearing and frustrating. "We both know that's a lie, and we both know there's no reason for you to have to go through any of this alone anymore. We both know this is the beginning of the end of all of your suffering, and should it get worse before it gets better, you have a whole team of people who want to help you and be there for you."

"Fine." With an internal defeat, you wrapped your pinky around his. "I'll be sad later, but only if you get me a glass of wine while I socialize so I don't seem like a bitch for booking it to the bar."

"Great" Steve smiled, shaking your intertwined pinky fingers, locking in the deal. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"This is the worst deal ever." You shook your head with a smile on your face while reaching for the car door handle.

An immediate gasp full of personal offense left Steve faster than you anticipated, and you got ready for the fight you two had nearly every time you got into a car together. "Do not reach for that car door ma'am."

"Twinkles, I have two fully functioning arms and legs. I can open my own car door." You made the same argument you've made a million times before.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." Steve shook his head at you, his face full of disappointment. "Stay right there before I put the child safety lock on the passenger side of the door."

"Logistically, it'll take more time for you to get out, walk around, open my door, wait for me to get out, then close my door than if I were to just get out on my own." You laughed.

“Yeah well, logistically, this reoccurring argument takes a lot of time as well yet you always seem to want to spark it." Steve spoke as he got out of the car, his door closing behind him. Very quickly making his way to you, he opened your door and offered you his arm to help you out. "See, didn't take that long. Look, this is an unpaved parking lot and you're wearing a pretty high heel which means you could've tripped and fallen and broken an ankle, and it would've been all my fault."

"How could you possibly sleep at night?!" You agreed sarcastically as you got out of the car, and he closed the door behind you.

"I never do." Steve noted. "This is why I have insomnia."

"Too many women and too many unpaved parking lots in this world." You agreed, walking with him towards the entrance. "We really need to contact someone about this."

It didn't take long to enter the beautiful outdoor space that was far too big to be reserved just for the team. You immediately felt like you were the main character of a hallmark movie, strings of twinkling lights shined above your head, the grounds were well maintained, full of plants, tables, and even a dreamy gazebo that was also illuminated by strings of lights.

There were candles lit along pathways and atop the standing tables, booths open that served food, and no less than 20 different wine options, and a whole bunch of friendly faces that all started clapping and cheering when you walked in.

Definitely not expecting that much immediate   attention, your cheeks widened into a smile and deepened in color before your hands moved up to hide your face. It only took a few moments before you were brave enough to peak through your fingers to recognize faces you didn't quite expect to be there.

All you expected were the avengers that lived in the compound or near by, but to see faces like Thor, Clint, and even that Spider-Kid who definitely was not 21 and was out passed his bedtime was a pleasant surprise.

Another pleasant surprise was the sweet faces of your mom and dad, sister and brother in law, and a handful of your friends from back home.

Your hands dropped from your face and showed off your full toothy smile and pink cheeks that Steve loved so much it made his heart skip a beat.

It nearly dropped out of his chest and deep into his stomach when you turned to him. "Did you invite them?"

"Of course I did" Steve nodded with a cheeky smile. "I wanted you to feel more comfortable, and you deserve to be celebrated by your family too, not just ours."

Much like earlier in the day when he gave you the suit, your arms flew around him fast and tight. It was shorter this time due to the audience, but Steve still loved it nonetheless. "Thank you so much, you're so sweet."

"You're very welcome" Steve smiled. "I'll go get us some wine like I promised, but I do feel like I need to say hello to your family first considering I've been texting them to arrange this. But I'll be quick!"

"I have so many questions" You raised your eyebrow at him.

"Save them for later!" Steve told you while walking straight towards your parents.

With full trust that nothing chaotic would happen in that interaction, you scanned faces once more and realized Bucky and Nat were missing. You knew why, but it made your happy mood deflate again until Thor was the first of the bunch to walk up and introduce himself.

You made your way through Bruce, Carol, and even said hi to Maria Hill regardless of the fact that you worked with her many times before.

Steve did make it to you with a glass of wine in each of his hands between your interactions with people. "Here you go, Bugs. Not quite sure what this wine is but I told the nice girl at the bar you liked white wine so she poured you her favorite."

"You're the best." Your cheers your glass against his.

"Ugh, I know right?" He agreed sarcastically, drinking down a grin with a sip of red.

Your quick interaction with Steve made your family approach you to celebrate, but he definitely wanted you to have your time alone with them so he slipped away just as fast as he came.

Lots of hugs, lots of chatting, then lots of them pushing you away to go hang out with the Avengers.

Somewhere between Peter Parker and more time with Sam, a quick scan of the crowd had you realizing that now the Avengers were co-mingling with your family and friends. Oh, and Bucky and Natasha finally got there 45 minutes into the actual event.

Lost in conversation with Scott Lang about the most recent episode of that one sitcom he so happened to bring up, a pair of forearms wrapped around you from behind.

You pretty much expected it to be anybody but Natasha, but you were pleasantly surprised that she was already so comfortable with you. "Sorry we're late, but Rogers' mess is cleaned up and you'll never see it again. Also, you look hot in that dress."

There was no chance to thank her or apologize for the mess as she quickly galavanted off into the crowd.

Scott was pulled away from you about 10 minutes later, and your glass became empty of wine. Feeling mildly confident at this point that you had at least introduced yourself and greeted everyone there, you felt comfortable enough to go get a refill on your own.

Another heavy pour and you were back out. Conversation flowed a lot easier than expected between the groups you found yourself in. There was always something to talk about, laughter was a common occurrence, but somehow the mess in the corridor kept seeping into your mind no matter how hard you tried to push it down.

Eventually Bucky found his way to you, and somehow the comfort of one of your best friends helped quiet down all of the unnecessary noise in your brain.

In true Bucky fashion, he approached with plenty of food in hand. Setting a full wood fire pizza on the table, he pushed the whole tray towards you.

"You haven't been eating enough for someone at an event with free food" He noted.

"Hello to you too" You grinned, taking down another big gulp of wine.

"Steve told me you were worried about me." Bucky's face softened.

"I'm always worried about you, that's what friends are for." You agreed with Steve's statement.

"You know what that agent said about me tonight is nothing but water off a ducks back." He reassured you. "But what he said about you is what bothered me. That is what I take personally, and that's what I can't let anyone get away with."

You sighed. "What did you do, Buck?"

"Nat fired him, we both got him on some gnarly lists to ensure he's going to have a hard time finding another job." He explained. "I think Steve did enough damage that the dumbass will probably never reproduce, which is probably a blessing to the next generation. We didn't help him up though, he can figure that out himself."

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh?"

"If it was up to me. I wouldn't have left it at just his balls, but I digress" Bucky shrugged. "I'm really happy you're back, Buggy. I've been smiling all day knowing you're here."

"Well for what's it's worth, I'm sorry people have been saying rude things about you because of me, and I'm happy to be here to hopefully get back on the right foot. I missed you and Steve a lot these past couple of months."

"It's not your fault, so I'm not accepting that apology." Bucky denied. "But I will accept a hug because I missed you too."

"Tough crowd." You grinned before wrapping your arms around him and leaving them there for a while.

Then, he started whispering in your ear. "This was a trap I just wanted to gossip in peace"

You let out an uncontrollable laugh, starting to feel the effects the wine had on you. "What's up? What's the gossip?" You tried to whisper back but it was a little hard to get the words quietly past your smile.

"Has Steve kissed you yet?" Bucky asked in a dramatic whisper.

“No, I don't think he ever will." You denied. "But I just got back last night, give him some grace."

"I don't think he will either. He's really scared of you." He agreed with you. "Do you need me to yell at him for that? Or I can just kind've shove your faces together when I find the opportunity?"

He pulled another laugh from you. "No, it's okay. He's scared, he needs to go at his own pace."

"Have you admitted to yourself that you like him yet?"

"Unfortunately you knew that before I did, but yes, and I told him that too."

"Good, good." Bucky started to pull away from the hug, but your wrapped your arms tighter around him.

"Tell me about you and Nat now" You trapped him.

"Well I'm not a scaredy cat like Steve is so... Girlfriend."

You gasped with a smile and pulled back to observe his face. But it was obvious he wasn't lying to you, so you lit up once more. "I'm so happy for you!"

Raising your hand up for a high five, Bucky hit his metal palm against your hand.

From across the winery and under the gazebo, Steve watched this whole interaction between you and Bucky. He was pleasantly surprised when jealousy never rushed through his veins watching the two of you hug.

Thats when Steve realized how secure he felt with you now. He understood now more than ever that you and Bucky were purely platonic, and it was evident in the way you two looked at and touched each other. In fact, he even felt a sense of warmth and happiness watching you two have a secretive conversation that wasn't so slick. Maybe it would've been a little more discreet had you been a bit more sober, but he found it endearing nonetheless. He found himself feeling hopeful that soon enough the three of you really could smooth over the damage and go back to hanging out together, a notion that once felt impossible.

He was even happier when he saw the both of you take a slice of pizza, cheers, then eat together.

After that, he stopped watching. He was so content knowing that Bucky was keeping an eye on you. Maybe that's where he overestimated his false sense of security, because along with the pizza, Bucky brought you another glass of wine which only meant you were feeling sillier and more socially confident by the second.

At some point Steve fell deep into conversation with your dad, they were getting along so well, in fact, he hadn't even noticed that he spent about a whole hour and a half alone under the fairy light illuminated gazebo with him. They also didn't notice that you were getting along with the team so well it's like you were always part of the little family to begin with.

He didn't catch you and your sister flipping each other off from across the venue as often as you could, he didn't see the way you and Peter made a secret handshake, or even when you exchanged phone numbers with Bruce. He missed Sam making you laugh so hard you nearly peed your pants, then you, Nat, and Wanda disappearing to the bathroom for a solid ten minutes then coming back with your lipstick magically perfect again.

He also missed your fourth glass of wine.

But that was pretty obvious when you walked out of the bathroom and into the social event, scanning the intimate crowd to try and spot anyone to engage in conversation.

Thats when you noticed your mom batting her eyelashes and giggling in a one on one conversation with Tony, while your dad was batting his eyelashes and giggling under the gazebo with Steve.

A bit wobbly on your feet, you walked over to them and held onto the wooden entrance as you stepped up. Both of their attention was drawn to you from their spot on a bench.

You squinted your eyes at your dad. "Hello, Father."

"Daughter" He raised an eyebrow at you.

Steve didn't know where this interaction was about to go, so he observed carefully. 

"Steve, is this strange man bothering you?" You asked him.

Steve laughed as your dad reached over to you and flicked the side of your head, you remained unfazed. "Not in the slightest."

"She's drunk" Your dad told Steve while covering your ears.

"I'm not drunk, I'm silly and perhaps a bit goofy, but I am not drunk." You grabbed your dad's wrists and pulled his hands off your ears. "My sobriety should be the least of your concerns at the moment."

"Why is that?" Your dad asked.

"Tony Stark is flirting with your wife." You pointed to your mom and Tony.

Steve followed your pointed finger and saw that you were actually right, and that made him laugh. "That's really concerning."

Your dad sighed. "So what? I have to fight Iron Man now? You chose to be a superhero and now I have to fight Iron Man for your own Mother?"

"Get used to it." You stuck your tongue out at him.

He stuck his tongue out right back at you before turning to Steve. "Please excuse me, I need to rescue my wife."

"By all means" Steve agreed.

When your dad walked off and you were alone with Steve, you sat down right next to him and pulled his arm around your shoulders before you closed your eyes and rested your head on him.

You didn't see his smile as he pulled you as close as he could and rubbed the top of your arm. "How are you doing?"

"Cold, tired, feet hurt." You mumbled. "Drunk"

"I thought you said you weren't drunk?" Steve quipped happily.

“Well, you're not my dad so you get to know the truth." You snuggled into him. "More truth, you smell really nice, and I just need to sit here for a little while."

A giggle escaped Steve from your confessions. "Are you having fun?"

"More fun than I thought" You nodded. "I'm so warm and fuzzy inside. It's been so long since I've felt happy like this."

That wiped the smile clean off of Steve's face. "I'm so happy that you're happy. It'll keep getting better, I'll make sure of it."

"I wish it could just be like this all the time." The feelings you never talk about spilling out of your mouth. "Life could be so good, and I really love it sometimes. I just don't know how to not take what other people do to me personally. You and Bucky are so good at that."

"You're good at everything you do, and life is about to get so much better for you, sweet girl. I promise."

"I'm trying really hard to believe you." You smiled. "I probably sound sad, but I'm happy right now. 'M always happy when I'm with you."

"You can stay with me however long you want, I'm happy with you too." He squeezed your shoulder.

"How did you guys plan such an elaborate event when nobody even knew if I would agree to be an avenger or if I would even be back at the compound today?" You asked.

"We used magic and our intuition" He said with a smile.

"You are so magical" Your alcohol influenced mind marveled. "And who in my family have you been communicating with because that's so magical"

"Your sister and your mom" Steve giggled at your question. "Your family is very nice and really fun to be around."

"Did my dad tell you embarrassing stories about me?"

"Surprisingly, no he didn't."

"Good, good. Let's keep it that way."

Closing your eyes, you let the wine and Steve's body heat relax all your muscles and wash the tension away. Unsure of how long you had actually been there, there was a point in which you could feel Steve shift to look at an approaching person.

An uncontrollable laugh escaped your intoxicated mind as whoever Steve was looking at sat on the other side of you and snuggled into your body the same way you were snuggled up to Steve, but for some reason you still didn't want to open your eyes.

"Wow, this is lovely" The voice said. It sounded like Sam, but you couldn't be too sure.

"Hey, I want in on this too" Sounded loudly from far away. Footsteps came running, and Maria plopped onto Sam's lap sideways. She kicked her legs over your and Steve's laps.

Slowly but surely, more Avengers, family and friends ended up under the gazebo with you and Steve. The cuddle pile grew with Scott and Nat, and lasted longer than it probably should've.

You were fed enough food by pretty much everyone while you all drunkenly told stories and laughed so hard that your stomach hurt that you eventually sobered up.

Once you were sober again, you realized just how fast time had flown by and were sad to hug your parents goodbye. You're pretty sure your mom hugged and your dad fist-bumped nearly every single person at the event, but that was neither here nor there.

Eventually everyone said goodbye, and by the time you got back into Steve's car it was already almost midnight. And by the time you got home and into Steve's bed, all of your energy was more than depleted. Social battery was in the negative, but you felt like you had been plugged into a high speed charger when he got under the covers next to you.

"How are you feeling?" That seemed to be everyone's favorite question to ask you.

"I kind've feel like you right now" With your eyes closed, your laid on your back with one arm above your head and the other resting over your hoodie on top of your belly.

Steve giggled "what is that supposed to mean?"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Any particular reason why?"

"I ate too much, drank too much wine. I'm bloated but happy so it's a small price to pay." You explained.

"Well if you're going to throw up, aim in that direction" Steve smiled and pointed in the opposite direction of himself. "Are you still drunk? Do you need some water?"

"No I'm not, I'm okay" Your smile barely ghosted your lips. "Just need some sleep."

Steve reached over and pulled some blankets over your frame before poking your cheek. "Remember what you promised me earlier?"

Your eyes opened to look at him. "I feel better, really. I do."

Steve sighed. "You don't even want to talk about it?"

"What is there to say?" You questioned. "All the same shit, different day. There's nothing I can do about that anymore."

"When this all first started, you were getting sent to my office nearly every day for fighting back, but tonight you kind've froze up. Why?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone to do that to me when I was with you." You answered. "But it's done now, it's fine."

"We both know it's not done" Steve's face softened. "And avoiding it doesn't make it go away."

"Would you like me to rewind time and kick him in the balls instead?"

"No, I just want you to know you can talk to me." Steve emphasized.

"I'm pissed off." You admitted. "I'm always in a state of being angry that this is the environment that I have to learn to thrive in every day, but I've also reached a state of emotional exhaustion that makes me feel like I have no room left to be even more angry than I already am. I've hit max capacity, so I'm choosing to stay as calm as I can because out of all the kicks and punches I've thrown, none of them have worked before. I have no reason to believe it'll work now."

“It's not fair." Steve huffed like kid.

"It never has been." You agreed with a shrug. "But you don't need to hold onto that anger for me. I'm trying to let go of it and move on."

"I'll let go of my anger in the form of making change." Steve told you, now feeling brave enough to pull you close to him.

You snuggled up close, your head on his bicep and your arm holding him gently. "I'm an avenger now. That's all the change I know how to make at the moment."

"I'm so proud of you" he practically whispered. "But I've never met anyone like you before."

"You really need to work on providing context before sentences that might hurt my feelings"

Steve chuckled at your bluntness. "You're telling me that you're happy, but you're also telling me that you're sad. Both of those statements feel genuine, so I don't really know where your mind is."

"Well then imagine how complex and confusing it is to be me" You emphasized. "Never in my whole life have I felt more alone while also feeling more loved than ever. I'm happy and sad, I just accomplished something most people never will by becoming an avenger yet I've also never felt more like a loser. This is the first time I've ever been relentlessly bullied but it's also the first time I've ever been a superhero so I guess the juxtaposition of my emotions is just turning my brain into scrambled eggs."

"Have you tried compartmentalization?" Steve offered with a grain of salt.

"I tried that once, I think I created too many emotional categories and got overwhelmed." You smiled. "But I'm a Gemini, so these complexities have been written in the stars for me since the moment I was brought onto the earth. I think I was born for the very purpose of the universe testing to see if overwhelming contradictory emotions could physically kill a human being."

"One of my greater purposes in life is to protect people against the things that could kill them, so you're in good hands right now." Steve slowly rubbed your back. "Overwhelm will not be your cause of death. Actually, nothing will be. I'm trying to convince Banner to make clones of us to be kept in cryofreeze that way when we die of old age, new versions of us can just be thawed out so we can be best friends forever."

"Spoken like a true cancer" You laughed, patting his chest. "Did I uphold my end of the promise?"

"We can call it even, but I'll always be concerned"

"Even Stevens!" You sleepily enthused.

"Are you rhyming or was that a reference to something?" You could hear his amusement.

"Both, you're a little too old to understand that one."

"That's really rude" Steve faked offense.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue, Twinkles. I know you think you didn't do much, but it means a lot to me when I know I have someone on my team."

"I'll always be on your team, you've always been worth the fight." Steve reminded you.

Those words comforted you enough to ignore your very full stomach and fall into a deep sleep in the hold of your favorite soldier's big protective arms. Unfortunately the universe loved to hate you, because you only got your share of the superhero until about 4am when his phone started ringing effectively waking both of you up.

A few curse words slipped out of his mouth in complaint before he reached for his phone and answered it. You didn't pay much attention to the phone call itself, but you did find it within your lack of  consciousness to move nearly your entire body onto his in attempt to keep him forever. Snuggling into him belly to belly, his hand found the back of your head and played with your hair as you slipped in and out of sleep.

By the time the phone call ended, you had effectively caged him between the mattress and your body. Realizing what you had done, Steve's cheeks burned as he let out a sigh.

"You can't go." You sleepily mumbled.

"You and I both know I don't really have any say in that." Steve reminded you apologetically.

"Says who? We all have free will."

"Unfortunately, the president of the United States. Apparently he requested to meet me for an urgent conversation about something that's happening somewhere." Steve explained.

"Damnit." You yawned. "I think the president has me beat in importance."

"I think the two of you are pretty equal in importance." Steve pondered. "The only difference is that people might die if I don't get out of bed."

"My soul will die if you get up, but it's fine, I understand." You joked dramatically.

"You're making it very hard for me" Steve complained, wrapping his arms around your back and squeezing you gently.

"If you're hard that's all the more reason to stay in bed." You joked, knowing damn well Steve wouldn't take a naughty joke like that very well.

And you were right, because the gasp that left his mouth was immediate and visceral. You didn't need to look at his face to know his cheeks were flushed pink and red hot. Your laugh was also pretty immediate and visceral as he used his body to flip you over onto the bed and propped himself up on his arm to lean over you. Pointing a finger at you like a dog, he had one word to say. "Bad!"

You laughed even harder as he shook his head at you. "I'm going to get up and get ready to meet the president, you stay here and think about what you just said."

Laying in bed alone, Steve eventually came to say goodbye to you. It was always sad to let each other go, but also an often occurrence. But this time he was hesitant to leave, of course you both knew why. Last night wouldn't be a one time event, but he encouraged you to stay close to Bucky, Nat and Sam as often as you could, and emphasized that there would be no timeline to his departure so he didn't know when he would be back. He also made it clear that should you need to defend yourself, you should do so with no hesitation.

Luckily, all was pretty smooth for a while. Your friendship with Nat bloomed faster than you'd ever expect it would, so for the first week Steve was gone the two of you were practically attached at the hip. Nat and Bucky spent a whole day helping you move from your old apartment up into the Avengers sector. Though it felt a bit pointless moving within the same building, the team felt better about keeping a protective eye on you when you weren't floors away from them. It was a nice change of pace to have a sense of community around you again.

The second week that Steve was gone, you tried to focus on building individual friendships with the team members outside of your little social circle. Your therapist also encouraged you to try and be brave enough to walk through the compound with a confident attitude so nobody would fuck with you, so you tried a few times on your own, a few times were nothing more than anxiety inducing, and a few times got you confronted with hostility which lead to 3 more agents getting fired by Natasha.

By the third week you finally got a phone call from Steve. It was nice to hear his voice and catch up and hear about what he had been up to for all this time, and it was especially nice to hear that he was wrapping up his work and he would be home soon. That same day you got to visit Jane and Luca over lunch at one of your favorite restaurants, then they helped you pick out a few new things for your new apartment.

Most kids acted as if a home store was cruel and unusual, but Luca was very opinionated about rugs and throw pillows. He even convinced you to get a new pair of sneakers at the clothing store he wanted to go to across the street from the compound.

Lots of therapy, lots of solo workouts, lots of team building, you were starting to feel mentally and physically stronger.

Strong enough to keep walking alone, and pushing forward no matter how hard it was.

When Steve landed on the runway after 3 whole weeks and a handful of days of being gone, he was so relieved to be back home. Without even making it off the jet he was already fantasizing about shaving the beard he unintentionally grew after forgetting his razor at home, a long shower and a long nap since it was only early in the afternoon and definitely not bedtime yet.

His fantasies continued as he stepped off the jet and into the building. Now he knew he wanted to see you before he knocked out for that nap he desperately needed. There would be some snacks at some point, and definitely no pants after the got out of the shower.

The sound of his boots on the sleek floor actually brought him joy knowing each step was one closer to you.

Like most fantasies, what he hoped and dreamed of was far from reality. Especially when a loud alarm sounded in the sector of the compound he was headed towards.

Stopping in his tracks and cringing at the sound, he waited for the code and location to be called out before springing into action. It could've been as simple as a knocked over vial in the lab, or complex as an invasion of an enemy. But when the code called out for aggressive physical conflict in the gym, Steve's heart sank and he started running as fast as he could.

He didn't want to believe it was you, but he couldn't be naive either. His racing heart and even faster legs carried him there faster than anyone else could. As he entered the doorway into the compound gym, he could hear the footsteps of a few sets of feet trailing behind him, but waiting for others arrival wouldn't slow him down.

Especially not when he entered the gym and it was completely empty besides two people, his heart sank even further when he recognized it was you, and the number on the back of the uniform of the other person was 212. Harvey.

No less than a billion racing thoughts came sped through Steve's mind, and none of the billion came together to form any good ideas. He swore all he saw was a blinding white and all he heard was his own heart beat in his ears as he sprinted through the equipment to get to where the altercation was happening.

The two of you looked like a cartoon before he went into fully protective mode. As he weaved through punching bags and stair climbers, he couldn't pick out where your body started and Harvey's ended. There might as well have been a big dust cloud around you, with puffs of air pluming out.

The consequences of putting himself in the middle of a fight wasn't even a thought in Steve's mind as he jumped over a treadmill and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and tried to pull you backwards, far away from Harvey.

Unfortunately, you were a little too preoccupied trying to save your own life to notice the alarm was sounding or that anyone was coming to save you, let alone Steve who you didn't even know was home yet. Assuming it was another attacker, one of Harvey's buddies helping him take you down, you forcefully thrashed and kicked yourself out of the Steve's grip. Adrenaline clouded your judgement, flight was nowhere to be seen as fight took over your every thought, you turned around and swung your fist right at him to earn yourself more time to knock Harvey down. You know you made pretty harsh contact considering there was a shooting pain buzzing through your knuckles, but at this point there was pain jolting through nearly every part of your body, so this wasn't going to slow you down.

Still not realizing what you had done, you watched Natasha sprint into the room and full body tackle Harvey to the ground, followed by a few other commanding officers, Sam, and Bucky. Trusting their ability to deal with Harvey and not let him touch you again, you turned back around to deal with whoever else was.

Fist balled, ready for a second swing, you looked up at the targets face, and devastation immediately took over the whole of your emotions. Steve blocked your punch and caught your wrist mid swing.

"Hey hey hey, it's me. It's just me" Steve frantically tried to get you to stop.

"Oh my god" You whispered to yourself as you realized you punched Steve right on his cheekbone, hard enough a bruise was already forming.

He watched you come to the realization of what you had done, your wrist was shaking in his hand, even more so as he loosened his grip and gently placed your arm down to your side.

You looked battered and bruised, but when he looked back at Harvey, it was clear that you had won this fight.

Looking at your wide eyes, he could tell you were in shock, and coming down from the copious amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins. He knew all too well what that felt like. Guilt, shame, the full effects of pain from the injuries sustained, the tremors and how weak your knees and thighs would get. He's been in your position far too many times before, he knew it was the worst feeling in the world.

Especially when your cheek was oozing blood, your arms were scraped up and bruised. Steve could tell the fight started with an unfair advantage.

Then, tears started pooling in your eyes as you looked at Steve's face and you opened your mouth but no words would come out.

"It's okay." Steve told you, very slowly reaching out to put his hands on your shoulders trying to snap your brain out of fight mode. "You're okay."

A tear fell down your cheek and your eyebrows furrowed before you muttered a quiet. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know" Steve shook his head. "You were just trying to protect yourself. You're okay, buggy."

You looked over your shoulder and saw Harvey on the ground. His face was a lot bloodier than yours. With eyes swollen shut and his nose definitely not in its usual form, you felt like a monster.

A sob escaped your throat, and your shaky hand flew up to cover your mouth before your eyes squeezed shut. "What did I do?"

"Everything is going to be fine." Steve reminded you, pulling your attention back to him.

His bruised face only made your sobs escape faster and your heart pound even faster. "I'm so sorry, Steve, I-I didn't mean to. I didn't know it was you."

"I know you didn't, you didn't even know I was home." Steve reasoned with you. "It's okay, just take some deep breaths for me."

You shook your head, still panting from the physical exertion. "I can't."

"You can't?" He questioned.

"I have to go." You took a big step backwards, Steve's arms fell back to his sides.

More concern than Steve ever thought was humanly possible took over his mind. "Where do you need to go?"

"I don't know." You sobbed. "I just need to go. I'm sorry"

Another two scared steps backwards, then you bolted out of the gym. Steve started making strides towards you, fully prepared to follow you but Sam approached him and stuck his arm out.

"You have to let her go on her own." Hand flat to Steve's chest, he stopped him. "She needs time to calm down and come to terms with what just happened. Trust that if she needs something, she will call you."

Steve's shoulders deflated. He wanted to go help, convince you to see a medic and have an emergency meeting with your therapist, but he also knew Sam was probably right.

With a big deep breath, Steve assessed the state of the gym. Realizing one of the treadmills was still on and going, he reached over the machine to stop it. Then a few commands slipped through his mouth while trying to organize his own brain.

He needed the security camera footage of the incident, he needed the alarm to stop, he needed a lab clean up crew to get rid of all the blood on the gym floor, and he needed Harvey handcuffed to the hospital bed he was bound to end up in. He was too tired to do any of that on his own, but luckily others were eager to get this taken care of too.

Just as he was no longer needed, Bucky approached and squeezed his shoulder.

"What's that thing on your face?" Bucky's nose scrunched up.

"She got me on accid-"

"I'm not talking about the bruise. I didn't even know you were capable of growing a beard" Bucky commented.

Narrowing his eyes, Steve glared at Bucky. "I forgot my razor."

"Respectfully," Bucky stated looking him up and down. "You look like shit, Pal."

"Thanks, Buck." Steve sarcastically smiled. He knew he looked disheveled and tired.

"Really, I think 66 more years of sleep would look good on you." He backhandedly tapped Steve's chest. "Go take a nap."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep after she ran off like that." Steve sighed.

"We'll take care of her." Bucky reassured him. "We can always wake you up if need be, but her and Nat have grown really close. She has a lot of people in her court."

After about 10 more minutes of arguing with Bucky, he decided to just let him win under the conditions that he would keep him updated when he found out any new information.

Steve showered, shaved, and put on sweatpants and a shirt before getting into bed. He didn't want to wear pants, but he did it for your sake, just in case you came to find him. Realizing it had been about an hour since the incident, he tried calling you just to see if you would pick up, but he wasn't shocked when you didn't. So he sent you a text letting you know he was here for you when you were ready, then tried his hardest to get his mind to calm down enough to fall asleep.

It took an unfortunately short amount of time, as the second he laid down sleep hit him harder than your fist against his face, and he knocked out for so long that he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, and it was now pitched black in his bedroom.

"Hello?" Steve mumbled into his phone.

"Jesus Christ, good morning sleeping beauty." Bucky said.

"Weren't you the one who told me to get some sleep?" Steve poked.

"Not important, glad you're back from the dead. I have some updates for you. Are you awake enough to process the words I'm speaking to you"

“I will be once I'm filled with rage over this situation again. What's up?"

"The security footage was recovered and I finally got to see it. It's enough evidence to land Harvey in jail for assault, so that's what Natasha is currently perusing."

Steve sat up in bed and reached for the lamp on the bedside table, blinking his eyes to adjust as it clicked on. "What happened?"

"She was alone in the gym, running on the treadmill and minding her own business. 212 saw her in there on her own, snuck in through the back door and yanked her off the treadmill. Her foot slipped off the end of the machine so he pushed her forward and scraped her face and arms against the moving belt, which is why she was bleeding. He was screaming some things at her but none of it is very clear. He tried kicking her a few times but she was able to get up and try to push him off of her, he persisted and she got fed up after he managed to get a swing at her collar bone and kicked her chin. She just... started swinging at him and didn't stop until you and Nat got them away from each other." Bucky explained.

"If this video can get him in jail, that would be great. But it can't be used if it's incriminating against her. We can't have that happen." Steve sighed.

"If anything, it's proof of self defense. You know Nat would never let anything bad happen to her. None of us would." Bucky reminded Steve. "It looked really painful on her end though. She ended up going to medical, but they released her a couple hours ago. JARVIS is telling me she's hanging out on the roof."

"Think I should go up there?" Steve asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, already knowing the answer.

"Well I don't necessarily think she should be alone for much longer."

"I'll talk to you later then."

The call ended and Steve stood in front of the mirror to fix his hair, while trying his hardest to ignore how tender and swollen his cheek was now. Before making it up to the private roof access, Bucky sent him the video and it took everything out of him to not kill Harvey with his own two hands. But a deep breathing exercise helped him regulate his anger again.

When he got up there and made it to the top, he saw you laying beneath the stars on a blanket with your headphones on, quietly crying to yourself and hoping that the moon understood your pain.

You noticed Steve immediately, and took your headphones off before sitting up as he quietly sat down next you. Trying your hardest to be brave, your lip wobbled trying to contain the new wave of emotion you felt. No words needed to be exchanged as you gently reached up and cupped his bruised cheek into your palm. There was a physical pain blossoming in your chest as he wrapped you up into his arms, but butterflies fluttered in his stomach as you let one of your arms keep him close, and your hand stayed over his cheek.

You cried tucked into his neck for a little while as he rubbed your back and simply let you feel your feelings. After a little while he heard your small broken voice.

"I'm so sorry." You apologized again, bravely pulling away and moving your hand to inspect the damage you did to his face. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"It's okay, Bugs. I'm fine. It was a dumb move on my part to grab you like that, if I was you I would've punched me too." Steve responded sincerely, taking in the burn-like scabs on your face down near your jaw. "Are you okay?"

"Could've been a lot worse." You nodded with a sniffle, really trying to convince yourself that you were okay. "I don't remember what happened, it all happened so fast I can't even recall specifics. I got scared and didn't want to hurt anyone else so I ran. I'm still trying to come down from that."

"I saw footage from the security camera, it wasn't good, Bug." Steve broke the news to you softly. "You did what you needed to do, and it was all within reason. There mere fact that you walked away with a few scrapes and bruises is a miracle."

"Did he sneak up on me?" You asked, Steve simply nodded in return with a sympathetic look on his face. "That's what I thought must've happened, that's also probably why I punched you so hard."

"If you need to see the video to help you process, I'll show it to you. But right now, I think it's best to just try and wind down."

In agreement, you made yourself comfortable next to Steve. You sat sideways nearly on his lap, with your legs thrown over his. His arm pulled you into his torso, and you rested your head onto your shoulder. Steve noticed your tiny winces as you adjusted to the new found pain and soreness in your body, but he tried his best to avoid all the spots he knew were injured.

“You saw a doctor right? Is everything okay?" He questioned, genuinely concerned.

You nodded. "Everything is pretty surface level, but apparently being slammed onto some heady gym equipment can bruise a rib."

"Bruised ribs are so painful" Steve's face scrunched up. "You're one tough cookie."

"I'm sorry this is what you came home to after being away for so long."

Steve was looking at you, admiring the way you looked under the moonlight, yet you couldn't keep your eyes off the stars. "I wish you didn't feel the need to apologize for things that aren't your fault."

"I'm working on that, and I don't anymore for most people. But for you? A million apologies wouldn't be enough. You're too sweet for this kind of nonsense."

"You are too, but out of all people you should know that I understand." Steve stressed. "In a lot of ways, we're very similar, Bug. I know what it feels like to be in the position you're in right now. You don't need to explain anything or apologize to me. I get it."

You tried to understand his words, but you really didn't. For a moment, you almost got upset with him for implying that anyone would treat him the way you've been treated around the compound. Steve was one of the most respected people in the world, you could barely earn the respect of a new hire agent. "I don't see anyone rushing to try and physically harm you for going on a run." You wiped tears from under your eyes.

"No, maybe not here." Steve agreed with you. "But way back when I first got the serum, I struggled really hard to earn respect from anyone around me."

"I have to admit, it's hard to imagine anyone disrespecting you."

Steve grinned and carefully brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your eyes. "I went from a 90 pound asthmatic who didn't have the strength to complete one push up to a human science experiment. I proved myself the very moment after I got the serum and it still wasn't enough for a lot of people. Thats why I was paraded around on that USO tour for so long, nobody thought I could handle fighting a war."

"You looked really cute in those booty shorts" you sniffled.

Steve chuckled at your statement. "Stop making me laugh when I'm trying to teach you a valuable lesson."

"I'd rather jump off this roof than not make you laugh" you smiled despite the contradictory tears.

"The point of this conversation is actually to make sure you don't jump off the roof." Steve informed you.

Your eyes moved from the stars to his eyes, they were both as equally beautiful and bright. "Is that what you're worried about? I would never-"

"Quite honestly, yeah, I am." He cautiously continued with a slight nod. "We see a more on a daily basis than anyone should see in their whole life, that alone is grounds for struggle but when you factor in everything else, I don't think that concern is far off."

Your tears fell faster at his statement. As a sad sob slipped past your throat and your eyes found the sky once more, Steve's heart broke knowing he hit the nail on the head. He also knew you wouldn't open up if you felt defensive about it, so he needed to take the scenic route to get you there.

"What's your favorite part about the stars?" Steve asked. "You seem to love looking at the sky when you're sad."

"Looking for constellations helps me stay calm and get out of my head" You explain with a sniffle. "They're hard to see in the city but it's better here upstate."

Steve looked up. "It's amazing to me that you can find constellations. All I see is each individual star."

You pointed at the brightest light. "That's Saturn, and these stars right below it make up the Aquarius constellation."

"It's crazy that the universe is so vast."

"That's another reason why I like the stars so much. With so much happening out there, it's a good reminder that everything down here is so tiny and insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe. Sometimes that makes me feel like I can keep going strong, like one day none of this will even matter."

"You really believe in astrology? I go back and forth. The stars are so far away, I struggle to understand how they can control so much of who we are." Steve pondered.

"I do believe in it." You nodded. "The moon controls our oceans, the tide is physical proof. Our bodies are made up of 60% water, and all of the other elements we're made up of were formed in the stars over the course of billions of years. It's hard for me to believe they don't have a say in what's going on down here."

"I've never thought of it that way." Steve grinned. "It's really magical when you put it like that."

"Maybe you're made up of more stardust than the average human considering your eyes seem to twinkle like they're already up in space." You noted. "It's magical, but it's also equally devastating to feel like the bad parts of your life are written into the stars."

"We need the not so great stuff to help us understand how amazing the good stuff is. Can't see the stars if the sun is out." For some reason, his perspective brought you comfort. It felt like the hug he kept you wrapped up in. "Maybe that's always why I've thought so highly of you. Despite the darkness you've continued to show excellence, and shine brighter than the rest."

"Then maybe I'm a supernova because sometimes I really do feel like I'm going to explode." You giggled at your own realization.

"Even then you'd still shine a million times brighter than the sun!" Steve enthused, big smile on his face. "But don't explode, black holes are terrifying."

"I won't. That's why I came up here. Avengers only access, don't have to worry about anybody else or the damn sprinklers."

"When I was in the Army, drawing was my version of looking at the stars. It was the only way I could really get my mind to quiet down." Steve explained. "Back then, I was miserable. All the army men hated me, I had recently lost my mom, and I thought I killed Bucky. The war was so horrific I didn't think I'd ever be able to recover from what I had to do or what I had to see, and I felt even worse for the innocent lives taken in the whole ordeal. So, when I knew that I could end it... I did."

"You're a hero because of it." You agreed, feeling a bit confused by his words.

"No, you don't understand." Steve denied. "The plane crash that got me stuck in the ice? I could've gotten out. There was a chance for me to jump out of the plane, but I didn't. I didn't see the point."

Your heart sank at the implication of what he was confessing to you, and all it wanted to make you do is just hold him tight and weep forever. But you knew that wasn't the point, you knew you just needed to keep listening.

"I can't say that I regret it, because had that never happened I would've never gotten to enjoy living a life I never imagined, and I would've never met you, or the Avengers." He explained. "But it made my life far more complicated, and at least once a day I imagine what my life would've been like had I just gotten myself to safety, and that imagining- the 'what's ifs?' is something I'd never wish upon anyone. I do know how you feel, and much like you know the moon controls the ocean, I know things will get better. All you need to do is believe it."

Your eyes momentarily squeezed shut to rid them of the tears blurring your vision. They dripped down your cheeks as you shook your head, and his brave vulnerability made you realize that you always loved him, but in this moment you had fully and irrevocably had fallen for him. It was as if there was no more questions in your mind, you couldn't even understand anymore why you hadn't been with him way before this whole mess. It consumed every single one of your emotions, you simply couldn't ignore it anymore.

"I would never, Rogers, never." You confirmed with a cry. "I can't lie, I've been pushed to thinking about it, but it made me realize that I couldn't do that to you, my parents, Luca. Nobody. I love you so much, and I really hate to hear that, but I'm really glad you're here."

"Maybe this is what was written in the stars." Steve reached his hand up and used his thumb to gently swipe tears off your cheeks. "Maybe all of this was meant to happen so that this moment, right now could teach you that no matter what happens, you'll always have people to catch you at the bottom should you feel like you have nowhere else to go."

"Or maybe the lesson is that the idea of our existences happening at the same time is so unlikely that we have no choice but to listen to the universe." You said quietly, almost coming to that realization in real time. "Maybe you were always meant to be mine."

Steve's heart nearly pounded out of his chest as you spoke those words, then, as you looked up at him and closed the distance between your lips, he felt like a supernova too. He was burning hotter and brighter than ever before when your soft lips connected to his, his chest was mere seconds away from exploding when you pulled away to examine his shocked face.

Trying to process what had just happened, the sound of your giggles at his twinkling eyes and blushed cheeks grounded him and pulled him right back down to earth.

"Wait hold on..." Steve clutched his chest.

"Are you going to throw up?" You asked, wiping the last of your tears off your face as your smile took over.

"I think I need to sit down." He stated, finally making eye contact with you.

Your laugh boomed once again. "You're already sitting!"

"Okay, then I need to lay down." He said, readjusting to lay down on your blanket.

Your smile persisted as you laid down next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, your hands intertwined. "This is better than you throwing up."

"Wait..." Steve spoke, looking up at the moon.

You turned your head to look at him. "What?"

"Again" He insisted, turning his head towards you too.

It took a lot of effort to contain your smile enough to kiss him, but you did, and it felt just as right as the first time. Keeping it short and sweet, it didn't take long for Steve to point to the stars.

"I like these bitches, they're being very nice to me right now" He smiled.

Admitting to how hard you laughed at his statement would simply be too embarrassing, but it was hard enough to yell at him for further irritating your bruised rib. "Now you can't get mad at me for calling you Twinkles."

"You can call me whatever you want, Love Bug."

Butterflies in your stomach erupted in flutters at his choice of nickname. "A cancer and a Gemini, who would've thought?"

Steve shrugged. "It works."

"What now?" You asked with a sigh, you didn't know if you were asking Steve or the stars.

"You fight your ass off in a trial against Harvey, you help us out in an investigation on him and everyone that's been tormenting you, you continue doing what you're amazing at, and you keep that beautiful smile on your face because all of this is about to change." Steve explained. "This was the fuel we needed to start a fire around the compound. It's enough to light the whole place up and change the status quo. By the end of it, it's going to improve the lives of every agent in the program, that's my vow to you."

All his words sounded appealing and genuine enough to believe them.

"Pinky promise?" You raised your pinky on the hand that wasn't already holding his.

"Pinky promise" He connected his pinky with yours, then kissed the back of his hand... then your forehead... then your lips.

He knew confidently, now more than ever, that his love for you transcended time and space. The laws of life, love, nature, and even the stars never applied to the connection you two shared.

Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was coincidence that the boy born in 1918 had a chance to fall so deeply in love with a girl who didn't live in the same era as him.

Or maybe everything did happen for a reason. Maybe your life was already mapped out in the stars, and all you had to do was find the right constellations.

You would always have infinite questions about the intricacies of the universe, but out of all the answers you are confident in, you knew two things for certain.

Steve was your North Star. So long as you had him to guide you, you always knew you'd be on the correct path. You'd always get where you needed to go, and he would always be there for you regardless of what season of life you were in.

He was your star crossed lover.

Next Part: Promotion

Taglist: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[sideeve]

“TIS’ THE SEASON”

ingredients :: feral!v , fem!reader , sorta br*eding k*nk , mating press , v’s species has a monthly mating season so he’s just very…yeah

notes :: i’ve come to the conclusion that i’ll only post once in a while due to my mental health and current state (not like anyone cares) . but in case that does change, i’m taking requests for csm, dbh, arkham saga, tlou, insomniac’s spider man (peter , mj , harry only !!), dmc (dante, nero, and v), tomb raider, shameless , (i’d only to fluff for debbie and carl and platonic for ian but smut for lip and fiona)

“don’t—don’t move.” v seethes, holding you close to him. today would make the 31st day of you and him going at it like rabid dogs. this is the consequence of you being romantically involved with someone not fully human.

you were supposed to be sending your holiday with v, exchanging presents, cuddling up next to the fireplace while nursing a cup of hot cocoa. but instead, v’s primal instincts got to the best of him. he had promised you that he would control his urges and spend his first christmas with you. but now, your bra and underwear have been long forgotten on the floor.

all it took was one sneak peek under your shirt as you tried to put the star on the top of the tree for v to charge you, pinning you on the couch.

“you promised.” you whine, his cock slowly sliding in and out of you. his face contorts, his nose being scrunched as his eyes are screwed shut. “i’m sorry, love. i tried, believe me.”

though you were upset, his length pumping into you made your anger wash away. you should’ve grown accustomed to it by now—the way his hands harshly gripped your hips as he pistons himself into your backside.

your cunt watered around him, begging for him to move faster. “once i put a baby in you, we won’t have to do this ever.” he whines, your fluttering walls cocooning around his cock. v never wanted to be harsh to you while performing sexual acts. but he couldn’t hold back.

it felt like he was injected with an aphrodisiac that turned him into a savage. just the touch of your skin turned his body into flames.

“i swear to god if you don’t—agh!” a sharp thrust duds your sentence, your body screaming with pleasure. each of his thrust has a hint of fervor and feral emotion to it. the tattoos on his body were beginning to fade, his hair turning white.

“fuck!” his head hangs low as he watches himself disappear in you. it was beautiful. it was entertaining to see how well you could take him. he could feel his orgasm creep up on him, the feeling becoming unbearable. his grip on your hips tightened, his thrust becoming unrhythmic and animalistic. “fuck, love.”

your release showers his lower body, your back arching off the couch. the sound of you and v’s sin making contact intensifies as he releases his load into your abused cunt. “shit—”

he doesn’t fully stop—just slows his movements until they come to a halt.

“v?” he raises his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “yes, my love?” you sit up on your elbows, “why are you still hard?” you try not scoot back a little but your attempt was hopeless. he pulls you closer by your hips as he leans closer into you. “when have we only gone one round?”

sorry if it’s not descriptive enough. someone’s in a writers block.

[variety-fangirl]

Can I request Marc Spector having a marking/spit kink? I feel like it totally captures his tough exterior but also his need for intimacy and closeness

Forever and Always Yours / Marc Spector x fem!reader

Summary: people abandoned him his whole life until he met you, you loved him endlessly despite his flaws. So any threat to that would cause Marc and the boys to become a little... jealous.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS SHOO mentions of Jake and Steven. Porn with some plot. Smut obvs 😏 (rough yet vulnerable sex, marking and spit kink, unprotected p in v, female receiving oral, hand job, mild choking, multiple orgasms, vulnerable and intimate behaviour,) lmk if I missed anything!

Author's note: of course my lovely, thank you so much for requesting 😁! I completely agree with you, our baby boy Marc has a very dominating side and yet craves/needs intimacy like his life depends on it. I'm so sorry it took me so long to do, I'm currently moving, finishing college, and trying to listen to my mental health in what I need so writing kind of got put on the back burner for a bit. Hope you love it tho! Thank you for reading, it really does mean the world. Liking, commenting, and reblogging really helps me out.

Word count: 2.8k

Your boys had always been a little... Jealous to say the least. Not that you had minded and it often ended up in my mind-blowing sex so you weren't really complaining but you sometimes wished they knew that they had nothing to worry about. That you were theirs through and through. You never had an issue with reminding any of them of that, which you knew they always appreciated, without even having to say anything. They would always be extremely vulnerable and intimate afterwards, keeping and holding you close with lots of affection on both parts. It was something you had grown to love honestly.

What you hadn't expected though, was for all three to become jealous of your new colleague at work, Justin. He was a super sweet guy, younger than you and on the slightly nerdier side. You had formed a wonderful friendship with him in only a few weeks, helping him to blossom and encouraging him to come out of his shell more. As a thank you, Justin would often buy you coffee and something sweet for breakfast every so often and offer to walk you home on the occasion. You had grown fond of the younger sweet boy, seeing him as a brother you wanted to protect. And you knew he didn't see you as anything more than a friend.

But that didn't stop your boyfriends from freaking out and acting jealous all the same. No matter how many times you had tried to ease their worries or assure them of the only innocent friendship between you and your colleague, they didn't seem to feel any less stressed about the situation. And you weren't exactly sure why. You knew the underlying feelings and traumas hiding beneath that they often refused to talk about, even Steven had been reluctant with information in the three years you'd been with them. You never pushed for further details though, only what they were willing to divulge on their own.

When you finished work this afternoon, it was like any other day. Justin offered to walk you home, his being on the way also, and left together with coffee in hand. The weather was beginning to get colder now, coats and scarves beginning to appear in people's attire. The leaves had begun to turn different colours, with peaks of orange, yellow, and brown forming. You hadn't thought it would be so cold so early, so you'd forgotten to bring a thicker coat or a scarf with you. You begin to shiver, wrapping your coat as tightly around your body and neck as possible but it didn't seem to quench the cold breeze that seemed to blow straight through you. You could feel goosebumps form on your skin. You were almost home luckily.

"You look freezing, come here." Justin fussed, pulling you into his side with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You smile up at him, "Thank you." He nods with a smile, continuing to chat mindlessly about how his latest date had gone, a friend you had set him up with. You smiled fondly, happy that the pair were getting on great, they seemed well-matched. Ten minutes later and you'd finally reached home, the cold had begun to worsen. "Thank you, Justin, I'll see you Monday yeah? Enjoy your date Saturday!" you call with a smile, waving goodbye as he walked to his own home. "See you Monday, thank you!" he called happily. You watched for a moment to ensure he was okay before making your way inside.

You couldn't wait to eat, you hadn't eaten anything in four hours and had been busy so you were starving. It was Marc's turn to cook tonight, he always had something new up his sleeve, he enjoyed cooking. He and Jake were much alike in that sense, not that poor Steven didn't try love him. Once you finally reached your floor, you unlock the door and unload your belongings in their rightful places, grateful to get your shoes off after being stood on them all day. It was 6 PM on the dot when you looked at the clock and your boyfriend was standing by the window of the living room, looking down at the scenery beneath you.

You smile and walk over, wrapping your arms around his surprisingly tense back after setting your coffee down on the living room table. You frown, wondering if something had happened, "hey baby." You whisper loud enough for him to hear, stroking the clothed skin of his back and sides. "That Justin that walked you?" Marc wondered, not making any move to reciprocate affection or turn to face you. You frown into his back, "Yes it was, why?" you question, sensing something wasn't right in his behaviour. Marc ignored your question as he turned around to finally face you, a look of something unreadable on his face.

His reply came with more annoyance and hostility than when he usually mentioned Justin, "I saw him with his arm wrapped around you, all smiles and holding you close." You sigh, pulling him closer with a small smile as you shake your head, "I was cold and didn't dress for the weather, that's all it was, nothing more baby." Grabbing the back of Marc's neck, you pull him down to connect your lips, tangling your fingers in his dark locks. You squeal into Marc's lips as he pushes you against the wall closest to you both, his hand going around your neck but not constricting your breathing. "You're mine, only mine," Marc growls with intent, tightening his grip on your neck just slightly.

You knew you shouldn't find this such a turn-on, this raw jealous possessiveness over you but damn you just couldn't help it when you felt your desire pool in your underwear, an involuntary moan escaping. Marc grabs your legs and lifts you, your body immediately tangling with his, wanting to be as close as possible. With tongues still exploring one another's mouths and hands pulling to remove each other's clothes, Marc carries you to the bedroom. Your back hits the soft mattress, and your boyfriend immediately climbs on top of you, not wanting to be away from you.

Marc pulls his shirt off, gracing your eyes with his beautifully scarred chest and back, you bite your lip as you touch his skin. You wanted him to know just how much you loved him and wanted no other, "god how did I get so lucky?" you whisper, pulling him down to kiss you once more. You often wondered what you did to deserve three amazing men in your life, gifting you with each of their amazing personalities and qualities that you adored. Your hands explore his skin with freedom as you grind against his crotch, feeling how hard he already was. Marc groaned into your mouth, his hips moving as needily as yours.

Marc pulls back enough to remove your shirt, throwing it on the floor with his. He groans as he sees you hadn't worn a bra today, his hands groping your breasts. You gasp as his fingers brush and play with your nipples, his eyes staring in wonder as they harden at the exposure of multiple sensations at once. Marc's lips attach to your left nipple, licking a stripe up the little nub before sucking gently. You throw your head back with an open mouth as electric jolts of pleasure pulse down to your core, ruining your underwear further. Marc's lips travel up your nipple to the soft flesh of your breast where he bites and sucks, the mix of pleasure from his fingers playing with your right nipple and the pain of his assault on your left breast was delicious. After a few moments, he works his way over to the other breast to repeat the process to mark the other.

As his lips kiss their way down your body to your waist, his fingers make quick work of removing your jeans and underwear. He pulls your remaining clothing down your legs, moving backwards down the bed at the same time to get off. You watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he discards his remaining clothing on the floor with yours. You smile as he returns on top of you, his face moving to connect with your core. Marc's tongue licked a stripe up your lips before working its way between to give your clit some attention. You cry out, finally feeling some relief of your swollen clit. Marc licked in upwards motions and sucked gently at the little nub, luckily not teasing you any further. His tongue stimulated your clit just the way you liked, each jolt of intense pleasure building the growing knot in your stomach.

"You like that baby?" Marc questions without moving his mouth away from your vagina. You nod frantically, "So good Marc." you knew each of your boys enjoyed hearing their name during sex, it made them individually feel acknowledged and special. Marc groans into your core at the mention of your nap, kitten licking you in between praises. "Look at me, who's making you feel this good?" he demanded softly, looking up at you, but not letting up on the stimulation of your clit. You lift your head to look down at him, almost coming at the sight of his dishevelled hair and swollen pink lips between your legs. You knew Marc and your other boys were possibly feeling a little insecure and jealous about the Justin thing so you wanted to squash any qualms they may have had about it. You moan, "You Marc. Only you, Steven, and Jake can ever make me feel this good and more. No one else."

He seems satisfied with your answer, his eyes flicking to the mirror in the corner of the room behind you, before turning to look back at you. "That's our girl." He dives back in but adds a finger into the mix, making you cry out instantly. The sounds of your juices filled the room obscenely, you were so wet that Marc could add a second finger quickly. It wasn't long before you could feel your orgasm approaching, the intense pleasure building at a rapid pace. "That's it, baby. Come for me." Marc groaned, pumping his fingers inside of you a little faster. You couldn't breathe properly as you approached your high, your body squirming to feel release. You scream loudly as you finally come crashing down, Marc working you through your high. He laps up everything you give him, not leaving one drop to go to waste before crawling up to kiss you.

You can taste yourself on his lips as his tongue invades your mouth, making you moan. You allow your hand to wander down Marc's body, working between his clothing and skin and grabbing his cock. He groans into your mouth as your hand wraps around his cock and slowly begin pumping him, quickly working him into a breathless mess above you. "I love you so much, Marc. You're my everything." You whisper breathily, knowing he needed to hear those words from you to feel reassured. But not just for him, for Steven and Jake also, because you knew they were watching and listening intently right now. Marc presses his forehead against yours at your words, a smile forming on his face and a feral lust-filled look peering back at you.

Marc crashes his lips against yours feverishly, his hands exploring your body wildly but with intent. You rush to remove his remaining clothing, needing to feel his bare body on yours, skin on skin. You hear the soft thump of Marc's clothes hitting the floor alongside your own, allowing you to touch him fully now. Marc wastes no time removing your hand from his cock and lining himself up with your dripping awaiting hole, entering you with no issue, pain, or resistance. Having already prepped you beforehand perfectly. You both gasp as Marc enters you completely, his hips flush with your own. "Fuck baby, you're so tight and wet. Feel so good. Can I move?" He asks breathlessly as he stares directly into your eyes with the most amazing lustful yet loving look you had ever seen.

While biting your lip and staring back, you nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in all ways he wanted to. He sets a slow pace to begin with, just to help you get used to it before he wrecked you, the ever-considerate boyfriend. It was passionate and mind-numbing, the way his cock slowly yet roughly dragged against your walls, his pelvic area rubbing directly on your clit and stimulating you perfectly. The feeling of Marc's hand gripping your face has you bringing your head back so you can look at him properly, that familiarly dark yet seductive look staring back at you. "Open up for me sweetheart," Marc instructed huskily, already knowing you understood and recognised what he was asking of you.

You open your mouth wide with your tongue sticking out, trying your best not to close your eyes as he continues to slowly fuck you. "Such a good girl for me, that's it, baby." Marc slowly and gently spits into your mouth, savouring the moment that does not happen often, only when he feels particularly possessive over you. "Swallow." You do as you are told, swallowing his saliva and sticking your tongue back out to show you had. The hand on your face moves up to your mouth and inserts two fingers into your mouth, "suck." He instructs, staring intensely as you wrap your lips around his fingers and begin sucking and licking. You moan loudly as Marc removes his fingers and replaces them on your clit instead, stimulating you as he fucked you.

"Oh fuck Marc!" You gasp, feeling the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach. The constant stimulation from his skin on your clit had already had you pushing to the limit, but his fingers were getting you off faster. "Come for me, baby." He groaned as he sped up both his movements, increasing your breathing tremendously. As quickly as it built, it released, your high hitting you like a train for the second time tonight. You scream in delight as Marc worked you through your high once again, now you were exhausted. Marc gives you a few minutes to recover, spending the time showering you with affection.

Marc takes this time to kiss your lips until they are red and swollen, and even then he did not let up. He littered your neck and shoulders with more marks, claiming your skin once more as his own. As if he were an artist painting his blank canvas with signature markings that told it was his work. Painting your skin in purple, red, and black bruises. When Marc asked if it was okay for him to continue and you agreed, he fucked you into a moaning mess. Each thrust was meticulous and targetted, aiming to provide you with as much pleasure as possible.

Marc's groaning sweaty figure above you was something to be marvelled at, he was truly insatiable and the definition of beauty. You felt utterly grateful and lucky that you were the one that got to call him, Steven, and Jake yours. With each thrust, yours and Marc's moans got louder, both becoming more and more needy for the other. As Marc tucked his head into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his beautifully scarred skin, and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close. You could feel that Marc was close by the way his thrusts got sloppy and slightly stiff.

Marc feels your walls tighten around his cock, "with me." Marc groans, placing his forehead against your own, breathing one another's air. You scream as the knot releases, exploding into multiple surges of pleasured fireworks that runs through your whole body. Marc groans loudly as he also finishes, his come painting the inside of your walls as he fucks you both through your highs. Marc collapses on top of you once you're both done, panting loudly. You lay with your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as your nails gently scratch Marc's bare back. His own fingers playing and tracing patterns on your own skin, often digging in a little now and again. You knew in times like this he just needed to be held and loved until he was ready to move or say something.

"I'm yours, forever and always. Nothing can change that." You whisper into his hair, one hand tangling gently into his damp curly locks and your lips placing a soft prolonged kiss onto the side of his forehead. Marc's arms tightened ever so slightly around your body and digs his head further into your neck, "thank you." He whispers into your sweaty skin, lips attaching to your neck regardless.

[1-800-sin]

QUEEN .....!!! ; Seeing that your request was open, I came here immediately, can I request Michael, Fredy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Bo, Vincent, charles lee ray and Lester. With s/o who have high sex, and are always spoiled by s/O 🥺will always do anything and obey their wishes so then s/o can have sex.

You can think I'm a pervert, you can also ignore my strange request. I really like your story everything is so perfect. Don't forget to take care of your health ❤ and drink lots of water so you don't get dehydrated. Have a good day

Omg I just saw this!! I almost missed it 😭😭😭. But omg ofc. Sorry this took so long(I’m not even sure how long it took tbh) as a bonus for me almost missing your request I included some kinks and aftercare hc’s. <3

Slashers with a s/o with a high sex drive

Warnings: nsfw(obvi), descriptions of sex, some ooc(I think😅), gender neutral terms,

Michael Myers(any)

At first he doesn’t understand the appeal of sex. He spent his entire teenage years in a mental institution. Didn’t have much time to explore his own body or desires. But after much begging(and him coming to the conclusion it means a lot to you) he decides to try it. What could go wrong right? Remember how I said he didn’t get to go trough his basic teenage hormone faze? You’ve made him hyper sexual. Of course he’s gonna be selfish with it, and you will get little to no control. But he’s come to the realization he likes sex. You better bet he’s rough with it too. He’s definitely a pain/masochism kinda guy. You offer to integrate blood or knives in the mix?(even if its fake) He’s into it. Again with the roughness, choking, degrading(this man doesn’t even need words to be degrading). He’s defo the type to fuck you until you cry. Aftercare isn’t really his strong suit. If you pass out or can’t walk to the bathroom yourself he’ll clean you up(he ain’t a condom man, ain’t got no patience). Of course if you comment on it he’ll deny it.

Freddy Krueger

My personal feeling about this man are mixed. He’s definitely a torture kinda guy. Like either denying your orgasm over and over. Edging you until you can’t think. Or making you cum over and over until the same result. His sex drive is also exponentially high so your made for each other. His whole dream power has definitely been used to make you have wet dreams. Even to just manipulate you Into wanting sex. A bondage guy. I can see it. He’d enjoy the thrill of you not being able to do anything as he tortures you. Aftercare isn’t great with him either. He’ll wipe you down and let you cuddle him(because any physical contact is physical contact enough for him).

Bo Sinclair

It has been established that Bo is no amateur. He’s a sex guy. When he discovers your high sex drive he’s thrilled. Counters, bedrooms, showers, public bathrooms, nowhere is safe. He’s into just about everything you can think of but some that stick out, oral(receiving mostly), roughness in general, you being loud, PRAISE. He will never admit it, to his dying breath. But this man lives for your praise and your sounds. It lets him know that he’s making you feel good. He may act like a self centred asshole(and sometimes he is) but he’s also always looking out for your pleasure. After care with him is surprisingly adequate. He knows he can be rough. And after sex he’ll run you a hot bath and join you(if you’d prefer that of course). He’ll let you sleep on top of him and the next day he’ll make you food.

Vincent Sinclair

He’s the KING of giving oral. Loves making you feel good more than anything. Also a massive vouyer(enjoys watching you touch yourself). He has tunnels in the walls for a reason. And my man can multitask. You can be horny, whining and begging for him to ruin you, and he can use one hand to do just that while he uses the other to do his sketches.(I headcannon he’s ambidextrous). He’s definitely the type to lick his fingers after you cum for him. Like he does it so casually. Aftercare with this man is HEAVEN. He’s so touch deprived you can count on cuddles and showers of kisses(and literal showers too). A worrier. Will ask over and over if he was too rough. And he can be ROUGH. Like face red with tears of pleasure, legs numb. Especially if you decided to be bratty with him.

Lester Sinclair

Much like Vincent he is also a worrier. But the whole time. Unlike Vince he can’t multitask as simply. But k GUARANTEE the moment you mention how your feeling he has dropped everything and is ready to please you. He’s like a puppy staring at you, waiting for instruction. Once he gets an idea of what you want he’s getting straight to work. He’s defo a chest guy. Don’t matter if you have boobs or not. He will watch for any reaction that you make, any spots on your body that warrant specific sounds or bodily reactions from you when he touches them. After a while he knows your body better then you do. He can be rough if you want him to but prefers to be gentle and thorough. He’s also an aftercare-aholic. Will hold you and smother you until you have to physically push him away(but why would you need to am I right?).

Jason Voorhees

As MANY people have stated, his feelings about sex are mixed. It was something the camp leaders who let him die participated in, and that was bad. But it was also something you clearly valued and you weren’t bad. You are the love of us life. Once he gets over the idea of it being sinful, he can RAIL. Like you can’t expect me to believe a guy his size doesn’t pound hard. When he sees your reactions to him for the first time he’s concerned. But when he learns it’s because he’s making you feel good he needs to hear and feel it again. Definitely more of a vanilla guy, but he’s good at it. Aftercare is amazing. His momma always taught him to treat his partner right. He’ll even take time off from hunting down the intruders of the camp to cuddle you and hold you close. He’s not small. That can be agreed on. That’s also something he knows. So he wants you to be okay. Besides, you come first. Always.

Omg Jesus. I hope this is okay or what you wanted. I didn’t do Charles specifically because I don’t know like ANYTHING abt him. I hope this doesn’t sound rushed or anything. Thanks for reading, take care loves<3