#ive always had a hard time knowing when to stop when i get emotional

[hoonieyun]

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ex!heeseung x reader hell is not the same without you... summary: you thought everything was going well 3 months after your breakup with your ex-boyfriend!heeseung until you realized that maybe you miss him more than you hated being with him.

warnings: profanity, toxic relationships, morally grey characters, huge red flags in dating, consensual skinship, kissing, overall 18+ wc: 2332

something was missing, like there was a looming feeling that there was something absent from your daily life and as hard as you tried to push down that feeling and act like it wasn’t there; it was all your mind drifted off to. 

the missing thing in question? heeseung. 

your boyfriend of 2 years.. ex-boyfriend that is. the two of you had broken up just a few months ago and since that day you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. sure a lot of the thoughts that surrounded heeseung that swam in your mind were negative and left a sour taste on your tongue, but then it would lead to you thinking about all of the sweet things he’d do to make up for the bitterness he put you through. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

“why can’t you just listen to me?” you shouted from the top of your lungs as heeseung rolled his eyes with an aggravated sigh. “i’d listen to you if you weren’t acting like this! you’re so emotional!” he yelled back. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

several memories replayed in your head involving heeseung, you wished you didn’t have to think about it but after you left him it felt like that was what was left of you. like you were no longer the person that you were when you were with heeseung. like he took something with him when you broke up and has refused to give it back. 

you just weren’t sure what it was. 

it shouldn’t be like this but you’re left in this limbo of uncertainty and heeseung was the only way of adding any solace or clarity, but he was no longer there. you hadn’t seen him since that night, broken dishes, cracked picture frames, and a hole in your chest where your heart is supposed to be. your relationship with heeseung started off how a lot of relationships start, it was great. he was sweet and so were you, your love overflowed into one another and it felt like everything was sunshine and rainbows and then one day, it wasn’t. you were spending nights crying yourself to sleep while heeseung would leave you to cry because he didn’t want to deal with the emotional mess that you were and still are. 

that’s how your breakup went, you cried, you both yelled, and heeseung walked away. it was like a routine, a deadly cycle that neither of you could get out of until three months ago. this cycle was endless and exhausting yet it was all that you knew. as fucked up as it sounds, you found comfort knowing that you had heeseung on your side even if it didn’t seem like it. 

even when he would walk away from you…

even when you felt like he was ignoring you to prove a point…

even when it felt like you were the one person that he hated most in this world…

no matter what, it felt like heeseung was always by your side. like a shadow that you couldn’t feel but was always there. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

your phone sat in your trembling hands as you contemplated on whether or not you should hit the send button. it was like the button on your phone had a strong gravitational pull and you found your thumb hovering over the button, the tiniest sliver of space between the skin of your thumb and the glass screen of your phone. 

there wasn’t even any time to process your final thoughts before your thumb was making contact with the cold glass and the familiar sound of the text being sent rings throughout your bedroom, much louder than it should’ve sounded. 

like it was an echo that rang in the room as a reminder of the decision you’ve just made. 

hi hee.. i dont even know why i’m sending this im just so lost. i didnt ever think that i would be missing you the way i do right now but you’re all ive been thinking about the last few months.  i miss the way you hugged me when i would cry.. granted i’d be crying because of you.  i miss when you would whisper sweet things into my ear when my brain got too loud and would lead to arguments.  i just miss you so much and you might not even respond to this but i just.. i miss you..

whether it was a good or bad decision however, was still out for debate. 

surprisingly enough, another familiar sound rings throughout your room, indicating that you have received a text message. 

hey pretty girl. i’m so happy to hear from you, can i come over?

it was short but definitely effective because you were responding in seconds and telling him that you’d leave the door unlocked to which he tells you that he still has a copy of your house key and would be there in no time. 

your heart was pounding a lot harder than moments before, like you had just put yourself in a life or death situation and in a lot of ways you did. death more than life. being with heeseung felt like two things, heaven and hell. it was either bliss or chaos whenever you were with him and neither heaven or hell was the same without him. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

you had decided to change into your pajamas that just happened to be heeseung’s favorite. a pair of silk pajamas that barely left any imagination of what you looked like underneath; hence why it was his favorite. you’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your bedroom door as it slightly creaks open, revealing heeseung who looked like he was going through just as much as you were. 

it was slightly comforting to know that in the time you were broken up until now, you weren’t the only one suffering. 

you muttered a whispered “hi” as he walked towards your figure sitting on the bed. the closer heeseung got the more visible his eyebags were. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his hair a mess, and he was wearing the same hoodie that he was wearing when you told him to “get the fuck out i fucking hate you” all those months ago. 

“hi, pretty girl. are you ok?” he asks, even though you both knew that you were the furthest from “okay”. 

he stands right in front of you and gently cups your face to look up at him, his touch instantly brings you warmth and a sense of comfort that you wouldn’t associate with him, not for the last year at least. 

“hee… i miss you.. but-” you begin to say and he interrupts you by softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb. a simple action that brings chills down your spine as you think about all of the other times he soothed your mind with that gesture. melting into his touch wasn’t something you weren’t accustomed to but this all felt so foreign and uncertain even if you knew where it was going. 

you were now back to the cycle that you were once in. 

“but?” he says, squatting down so that you two were somewhat on the same level. 

“i don’t know if it’s a good idea to want you. i miss you everyday that you’re gone but it doesn’t bring comfort knowing how much you hurt me..” a hiccup slips past your lips as you speak and heeseung is finally seeing what he’s done. you looked utterly broken and he knew it was because of him. his pretty girl that he loved so much was shattered and ruined because of him and he wished that he had realized it sooner. 

“baby.. shh.. its okay.” heeseungs says, pulling you into his arms as you cry into his chest. his hoodie getting soaked as you let out your emotions that he shamed you for in the past. “everything is okay, baby..” hee coos, rubbing the back of your head gently as you wrap your arms around him. 

if heeseung was being honest, he didn’t know what to do in this situation and it was only making him realize further how shitty he was. he barely knows how to comfort the girl he loved so much and it was breaking his heart. it may seem selfish that he was reveling in his own discernment and that he’s trying to wrap his head around his past mistakes instead of the one currently crying in his lap. 

“i’m sorry, yn.. i’m sorry, please stop crying, baby..” he whispers into your ear, hugging you even tighter than before as if you were going to slip away from his grasp any second now. 

he doesn’t know what to do now and he didn’t then. 

it was like you guys had each other wrapped around one another’s finger, knowing that one way or the other, one of you would crawl back and start the cycle all over again no matter how many times you may think it’s finally over. 

the two of you stayed that way for one moment, in one another’s embrace, your heartbeats syncing up with one another and for once in a long time; your hearts were in the same place. you were finally on the same page when it came to your love for each other even if it meant being in a place of uncertainty… you were sure of one thing, the love you had for each other, if you could even call it that, was something you couldn’t lose. 

“heeseung.. will you stay?” coming out of your lips as you slightly pull away from him, your eyes originally intending to land on his doe eyes but instead they fall onto his plump lips that glistened just the right amount from the small light in your bedroom. “i’ll stay only if you want me to.” he responds and you nod eagerly, like it was the only thing you could want. 

and in a lot of ways, it was. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

that night you slept in heeseung’s arms, a place you once vowed to never return to but as a cycle rounds itself, you found that his embrace was the place you were the most familiar with even if loving heeseung only brought uncertainty and a sense of unfamiliarity that brought you so much dread that you never know if the world you were living in was a heaven that wasn’t anything like you expected or a hell that was much worse than the words you’d hear on a sunday morning. 

however, no matter where you were; you wanted heeseung to be there because none of it would be the same without him. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

“good morning, pretty girl.” heeseung says, his voice was low and a bit raspy as he pulled himself up from laying next to you. you stirred as he readjusts himself, turning to face him and he’s got a smile on his face you haven’t seen in a while. a smile you loved so much and the longer the two of you were together… it began to fade away. it only appeared for special occasions like birthdays or anniversaries, then one day; heeseung just never smiled the same way ever again. 

you sat up, wrapping your blanket around yourself as you situated yourself in front of heeseung who did the same. “hee.. what are we doing?” you asked, the events of last night replaying in your head as you recall crying into heeseung’s chest and him trying his best to comfort you. 

“whatever you want, my love.” heeseung was good at that. saying all the right things to make it seem like everything was just that, alright. he would soothe your worries with empty promises, a soft rub on your back, and a gentle kiss on your lips. 

a kiss… something you craved from heeseung. 

“we’re too toxic for each other… but i don’t think i ever want to lose you. you’re all i’ve ever known and i feel even more lost when i’m without you. there’s so many signs that tell me to turn around, to stop, that this is just a dead end, but if i just keep ignoring the signs– it always leads me back to you. 

it always leads back to you, hee.. 

i don’t ever want to lose you but… can we even do this without falling apart?” 

heeseung looks at you momentarily, eyes flickering from your own eyes to your lips, something he also craved to feel. 

“you’ll never lose me, not even if you push me away… i’ll always pull you back no matter what. i don’t care what anyone says, they don’t know us like we know each other. the way i know your brain and body… and even soul. 

you’re mine and i’m yours, even if it destroys us.” heeseung’s face has gotten a lot closer with each word he speaks, nose slightly grazing yours. 

“i love you, ok?” he says and after a long time, you believe it. like he was willing to fix up any of the issues you two had if it meant that he could hold you every night as the two of you drift off to sleep. your dreams being filled with your happiest moments with each other instead of the nightmare of losing one another. 

you jump onto heeseung’s lap to which startles him at first but your hear his low chuckle in your ear as he embraces you in his arms. you would’ve said i love you back but you weren’t sure if you would mean it or if it would even change anything. 

you guess you’ll just have to see in a few weeks to know if things have changed and if the cycle is finally broken. your life was nothing without heeseung and whether or not you loved him was uncertain– you did, however, know that nothing was the same without him.  

"toxic" meovv the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artists above

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

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heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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[mamamittens]

Ugh, there's been like, two dudes breaking into my community and failing to steal cars so they leave after 15 minutes and my roomie is getting paranoid despite us being all the way in the back of the community (and much less advised to steal from cause it's far from the exit relatively speaking unless they can jump like, 8 feet to reach the top of the solid brick wall encasing the community).

Frankly, it's a little embarrassing cause this is the second time they've tried and failed to steal a vehicle. Literally just hotwire and drive, the gate opens automatically to let you out dude, what the hell are you doing... And we live next to a speed trap where there's always a cop with nothing better to do than give you a ticket for going over the speed limit so they'd have like... Two minutes to disappear tops assuming the cop drops his keys in the floorboard and can't find them for a minute.

So if anyone has cheap home defense solutions that'd be great. I've been eyeing a solid wood bat cause anyone that wakes me at 3 AM on a workday for bullshit crimes will be spending considerable time in the ICU istg but I'm open to suggestions. I have neither the money or the permit to buy a gun so forget that.

[phagodyke]

aouuugh my uterus......

[yongseungkim]

.

[bugflies00]

i have so many thoughts about the tommy song/video and theyre a jumbled mess. i wouldnt call this an analysis this is just. most of my thoughts surrounding the video and what it shows about tommy

one of the things that stuck out to me (outside of how depressing and just like. is this guy okay) is something that ive always respected tommy for because he's always stuck with it and its his like. fervent conviction in people doing things theyre passionate about. thats always been one of the things he talks about all the time!!!

when AI started appearing he was talking about death of creativity, with the internet he's always talking about how the real tragedy is the algorithm killing people's passion by driving them with views and money, and even when he talks about youtube itself, and nowadays standup, its so full of passion.

and i think thats really important because it would be extremely easy for someone like tommy, who's in the process of maturing his online image from a very loud, immature and PASSIONATE persona, to make fun of it. it would be so easy to do like so many other creators and laugh at how "cringe" it was and make a quick cash/attention grab with a funny clip of him laughing at himself. but he never has. well don't get me wrong he's laughed at himself or old videos but it's always just. good natured taking the piss out of himself, it's never this like. mocking your younger self who was so excited to do what they did only because now its "cringe".

not only is he constantly giving that advice to other people (its been years of him replying, to any kid in his chat or donations asking advice on how to be a creator etc, "just go and do it if you love it!!"), he's coherent with how he applies it to himself. he realised he was making cash grab tiktok react vids and hated it so much he just stopped uploading for a while.

i dont know i just think there's something admirable about being able to still be sincere in a time where everything especially online has to be processed through a layer of irony. and its even funnier because he's more sincere THROUGH the irony i mean he's literally going into standup.

letting yourself create something that "means" something is fucking hard especially when half the internet still sees you as a kid who screams around. except the thing is that kid DID make stuff that mattered and that meant something because he was, in his own words, having fun.

i think thats what the format of the video was about too. i mean i think it was pretty clearly not a song thats meant to be streamed, its not purely music, its also a video because tommy is also first and foremost an editor who went to film college. its also not a "comedy" song like he's made some before, because those were all intentionally created to land as many jokes and make a big buzz— which doesnt mean they were bad! im philza is a contemporary lyrical masterpiece. but they had a specific purpose and it was to make people laugh and i think this video was completely like. opposite of what peoples expectations are of tommy. the "wow hes not a child anymore hes being mature🤓" reactions are the most obvious aspect of this (which, like, its been a while, get with the program).

i think the point of this was to make something that genuinely meant something but that was also like. as unpalatable to the algorithm and to the TommyInnit Viewer as possible. even now that he's gone into making quieter, more reflective videos, we've never had the flashing texts and the projector images and just all of that. hes always talking about how he hates the way the "youtube formula" has dictated the course of content and stolen all creativity for youtubers. its not meant to be a YouTube Video tm. its just meant to mean something to someone, and obviously process some sort of personal emotions, and i just think thats. yeah. yeah

i mean he even says so outright. "this needless, self indulgent spiral of self gratification" is pretty damn explicit. its not meant to be funny content its really a cry for help or for just. anything at all really

it was also a lot about perception, yknow the "entertainer" dilemma, "its all attention porn"... theres a layer of this point thats universal, everyone struggles with how they're perceived and i think any "artist" or "entertainer" figure can see themselves in it, but there's also a layer thats completely impermeable to most of us because it touches upon the sheer absurdity of a "youtuber". especially one of tommy's popularity. especially one who blew up so so fast so young. i honestly think its IMPOSSIBLE to process that. its about the ethics of having millions of people's time so readily available to you if you just press the right buttons to make the algorithm happy and then you've got them. im like 75% sure i remember him saying this on stream once, something like "your time is valuable" and if a fan didnt value him as an entertainer they should drop him.

and even here^ thats the saddest "lmao" ive seen in my life SORRY LOL but its really just. yeah im not gonna repeat myself it speaks for itself. perception and internet expectations and all that

one of the other images that stuck out to me was also this:

"yeah i know its too much like bo burnham but it wont be in a year though. in a year it will be like tom simons. just let me figure out what that means, ok?"

a lot of the video is about. influences and inspirations. the bo burnham references are so obvious he's poking at them, but i think he's raising a good point about the creativity that he's constantly praising. its never something that springs up on its own, its all about looking at others work and making it your own and feeding yourself with all those experiences and slowly, surely building your own way of doing things (tommyinnit "minecraft talent show" and "a tribute to dream smp" serial quackity + schlatt impersonator would know all about that) ->

and its daunting! its fucking scary to move away from that! which is also the main vibe i got from the video which, outside of his own issues with how he's perceived online, was the sort of existential dread that comes with actually creating. its one thing to preach you need to be passionate and create, its another to sit down and create something thats BY you. its a part of growing up! and we're literally seeing him do it live (well the bits that he chooses to show obviously)! thats also part of why i think tommy's so relatable to so many people is that he's so like. honest and real about what it's like to grow up, simple as that, and growing into yourself.

"this was everything to me" and using the picture of his younger self... man. theres obviously so much sadness underlying the whole thing but i think the nostalgia and melancholy in mourning being someone who was only inspired/excited by your interests and role models is universal. and obviously for tommy a lot of those influences turned out. well i think it was pretty damn clear who/what he was referring to here. ->

i don't think i need to go too in detail about that, especially cause a lot of the video was clearly a way to process his own personal emotions. especially with those next few images. i just hope he's okay and that god doubles his pain and gives it to mr beast to quote my friend bronzetomatoes. man.

of course he had to end with a funny clip about a hot anime girl and i think that kinda. sums it all up in a way. if that makes sense. at the end of the day its about the fact that he has to use humour to make the thing work when its out in the open, even when he tries not to and to be actually honest, but theres also the fact that hes literally a comedian and creating something "honest" IS through humor. its kindof a double edged sword

right well that was my jumbled mess of psychoanalysing tommyinnit i hope he is alright and all that because well that was. something

[pascals-doll]

B.A.S

⋆ ˚ . * ·analysis— In which you were bound to a man you don’t desire or love by your parents. An entire relationship built on resentment and treaty-like. Abby Anderson, you’re neighbor whom lived happily with her girlfriend next door. Unruly cravings and wreckful thoughts take over between the both of you, assuring a succulent dalliance. Guess you Both Aint Shit.

abby anderson x reader

₊˚ପ MEGANS NEW ALBUM GOT ME ON MY TOESS 💋

˚ପ i cant believe ive had this lil plot thought out written somewhat since march and i never had time to finish it and im happy i finally did!

₊˚ପ description: MODERN AU! READER IS FEMININE PRESENTING (only desc of reader), MUTUAL CHEATING!, reader is kinda in the closet because of prejudice parents, mentions of heavy religious parents, reader is in arranged marriage with a man!, mutal jealousy, homewrecking, SMUT NAAASTYSMUT, dom!abby, sub!reader, oral sex (r receiving), reader is unexpirenced!, brief size kink, praise kink, heavy making out, fingering (r receiving), lots of pussyeating, no use of y/n,( ___) is blank for partners names, use of pet names (doll, beautiful, baby)

A lavish life was the experience of finding love on your own, letting it grow on you, and completing whelm your entire being. It was the process of getting to know each other to first kiss, to the ask out, to the relationship, and if your lucky; you build life together.

The stage of growth and love; where you plan as you’re just overfilled with emotion. That trigger to jump with joy at the fact that you’re building a whole life path with your special someone.

Years spent learning about each other, sharing parts of yourselves, and taking that time to progress hand in hand; harmoniously. Something, everyone should have the unlawful pleasure of doing.

It something you’ve always dreamed off, feeling it so close as you watch through your curtains. A secret craven in peeking into the silhouettes of the house next door.

You had seen them together for the past year since they moved in. Their happiness almost tangible as they enjoyed each other's company in the pool or on the patio, sipping cocktails and laughing.

You were hardly ever envious in the years you’ve been on earth—but it’s almost taunting like, the way they have so much to give. Truly in paradise with their passion for each other. Although, something didn’t always seem quite right.

Your life never stopped being stifling. You were bound to a man you could never love. An unfair business arrangement orchestrated by your parents alongside constant trips-pointless trips; taken by your close to nonexistent husband.

Abby's girlfriend was also often away on business, and you suspected that she was lonely. Going throughout your day and then coming home to see her in all alone, all day, in that big house.

The entire marriage was a sham, a rule-set of convenience. You couldn’t help yourself any longer once Abby moved in.

Often finding your eyes drifting to her, imagining what it would be like to kiss her peached lips, engulfed within those muscular arms. Such thoughts made you blush, and ignite a feeling in your stomach.

You couldn’t do anything except push your own crawling agenda away, only to have them return with greater intensity.

Abby Anderson was a phenomenal women. She was lead cordinator at a business with the pleasure to provide and work from home. She deserves someone who can take care of all that hard work.

Her girlfriend clearly couldn’t.

‘If you live a life you don’t love, make best of what you want.’

You had never been with a women before. Only close you’ve ever gotten to exploring was dabbling in lesbian porn when your husband wasn’t around. It didn’t take long to dawn on you—that you had never orgasmed, especially not in the way these women in adult videos do and definitely not with your husband.

It was pitiful, really. The fact you couldn’t enjoy such a liberty. Your own sexuality.

A faraway dream of self-discovery and not the norms fed to you by religious beliefs that you couldn’t claim as yours. Dragged on by your parents whom taught you, it was ‘all in good faith’ and ‘Lord knows whats best’.

The only explaination for your abomination of life. Merely neglectful to your candied desires. Wrong, yet right in every way. You were loosing sleep as nights pass, tossing, and turning restless.

Rolling out of your silk sheets groggily. You stepped into your house slippers before walking down your stairs to your living room where your pack of cigarettes are. You grabbed the pack of your dining table, heading out to your front porch.

It was midnight, blurred gray clouds into the black-violet sky as you lit your cigarette and dazing away. You could feel the stagnant air surround your exposed skin, your lacy satin nightgown���a slip of fabric only covering you.

Unbothered and insomatic, taking drags from your malboro as you sat next to your ashtray that displayed on your side table. If you were to turn your head; facing towards and into all your temptations.

From just the corner of your eye, you could see the lights were still on at such an hour. Impulsively giving into your curiosity, turning your chair; peering into her window across the street.

Puffing till your ash thins into the orange-tip. Your attention drowned out until you heard rustling coming from the bushes at the corner of the street and your home. You whip your head around, blunting your cigarette out onto your ashtray and walking towards the barricade of your porch.

Abby was taking out the trash. She dressed in a loose tank top and shorts. She looked relaxed, her long golden hair falling casually around her face. Eventually catching you, offering a friendly wave and came closer to the fence of your porch.

"Hey there!" Abby greets, cool-toned and intrigued. "Can't sleep either, huh?"

Your heart hammered in your chest. "Sure is, just came out for a smoke…uh-hm! How have you been?" You stammered your question, unsure of what to say.

Abby couldn’t help her gaze drop to your nightgown, her eyes glinting under the streetlights. "Just been cooped up alone, taking care of Bear and ____ is away on another business trip.” She exudes, smiling at the mention of her precious furry friend.

You listened intently, a small smile tugged on your lips “____ been gone since the week before. Preoccupying myself by enjoying my magazines alongside my tea,” You let out a small giggle which was returned.

Abby’s presence tensed you, goosebumping your skin as if you were cold all of a sudden.

A small moment of silence was a momentum of chance.

“Would you like to come in for a glass of wine or water? I’d be a horrible neighbor if i left you hangin’” You offer, stepping aside with a soft smile.

She took you in once more, head to toe and an adrenaline pumped throughout her body before spreaking, “It’d be my pleasure”.

4 words 1 sentence. A saying so simple is all it took, to have you clawing at your sanity.

Two cups of Wine turned into more and lighthearted conversations transformed sentimentally with each cup.

You bonded over the fact your partners often left for work, leaving you both lonely in such a big house. Eventually divulging your marital fraud, your desolation worn on your sleeve like an accessory.

“That’s truly not necessary—” you were cut off.

“Accept nothing but the truth, he doesn’t recognize how lucky he’s got it.” You picked up on how her voice turned stern, straightening up as she reassured you. You just stood there frozen.

You gulped, wrapping your arms around yourself as you suddenly felt exposed. You scrambled to think of something to say, your delusions wanting to take this in every way it wasn’t.

Abby suddenly closes the gap between the both of you, leaning onto your counter and into you. You could smell her perfume, the scent of fresh orcid and essential oils tickling your nostrils.

Maybe It was.

“Do you love him?” A very solidifying question.

“I dont know what love is and I definitely don’t love him, more like my parents did.” You grimaced, sarcastic and plainly disinterested in such a discussion. You truly have nothing to compare your marriage too.

“I hate fucking him too. Don’t feel a thing.”

Abby’s eyes widened, her hand reaching over to grasp yours. “Have you—do you like women?” She quirked, a soft giggle falling from her lips.

“Again. Wouldn’t know, sweetheart.” The nickname seemed so naturally. Like, you had been calling her that forever. Your eyes met with Abby’s; face to face with only so much space.

Then suddenly, she settles her strong hands upon both of your arms “And If i showed you?” She was so gentle with your demeanor, treading lightly.

She wanted it just as bad, just like you.

Her breath fanning your lips causing you to hitch. A trembling hand reached out, your hand brushing Abby's cheek, her hands pulling you from your waist. A passionate kiss spun.

It was electric, your lips molding together, tongues dancing in a frantic exploration. Abby moaned into your mouth, your hands roaming loosely down to grip your neighbor's slender hips. You responded by pressing yourself against Abby, feeling the firmness of her breasts through both your clothes.

Kissing desperately, hungrily, as if starved for each other's touch. Breaking the kiss, Abby nibbled on your ear, a weak whisper falls from your lips, “I need you….” Muttering in between kisses.

“Bedroom’s upstairs.” You finish. Abby taps on the cheek of your ass, signaling you to jump into her embrace.

Stumbles and giggles to make your way upstairs and down the hall to your master bedroom. Abby pulled away from you, looking around the room, seeing the mixture of objects from your husband and your own.

In some way, the infidelity. It made it rapturous.

"Lie down," she ordered you, her voice suddenly husky and full of authority.

you obliged to her command happily, body thrumming with excitement. You watch her climb onto the bed, hovering above you and eyes pouring into your own; a mixture of lust and tenderness.

"You're so beautiful," Abby’s voice was low as her eyes ran up and down, running her hands down your body. Each streak feathered on from her fingers tickled your skin, squirming as you legs lock together.

You felt a fluttering in you stomach at the compliment. "So are you," You meeked shyly, a pink hue on your flustered in face. You were breathless as Abby began to kiss at your neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin.

Abby continued her slow exploration, trailing kisses down your body, pausing to nuzzle your breasts through your top. "I want to see all of you," she whispered, her hot breath fanning over your tempered skin.

Heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded. The feeling of her gentle but eager hands as she threw off your clothes, baring you inch by delicious inch.

She paused to appreciate each reveal. The swell of your perked breasts, the curves that dipped your body, and to the drag of your soaked panty down your legs.

Completely naked and to her taking, Abby took a moment to admire you. Her eyes ran down over every inch of your exposed-self, salivating at your glistening arousal. "Better than my dreams," she murmured, voice full of wonder.

Insatiably on the same side of a coin. You reached for Abby's top, eager to return the favor. You peeled the fabric away, revealing her lush breasts, nipples eager with the cool breeze with excitement. She metled into your touch as she kicked off her shorts.

It was your turn to admire everything you’ve awaited. Her body glistened under the dim lighting of your room. The way eyes smoldered with desire tranced you as she positioned herself between your thighs. Your needy slick center coarsed Abby’s head; hovering above and planting pecks on your thighs.

Abby leaned into you. The feeling of her mouth searing kisses on your delicate pussy and her thumb teasing the taut peak of your tits. Your back arched arched into her touch, moaning softly as you reveled in the sensation of finally being touched by another woman. By her.

You notice the way she took her time with you. She was observant with each twig and jolt that came from your body, savoring you. She sweetly elicited a series of delighted gasps and whimpers from you as she continued her descent, twirling her tongue around your clit and teasing you down to your folds.

You choked out a cry of shock, “Fuck-ah!" you seethed, your hands gripping your bed sheets. You could feel Abby chuckle softly as she relishing sucked on your puffy clit. You felt like you were on a cloud, feeling completely elevated.

“Gaah! Ab—Abby!” Your thighs tremble in her grasp, feet kicking into her back slightly at the new found pleasure. The jolt that coursed through you felt ferious with the feeling of her moist tongue. She made her way inside your folds, teasing your whet entrance.

Suddenly, you feel the tip of her tongue plunge inside you, “Abby! fuckk Abby!” You let out a throat-curling shriek. Each lick inside you was a push of boundaries.

Legs trembling, mouth fully-agape, back arched, tits begging to be touched, nails clawing into your sheets, and grinding into her face completely high off ecstasy. Everything was new to you. The sex, passion, and connection. A seventh heaven.

Just as quick as the erotic came; it left. She pulled away from your eager pussy and anticipated body causing your back to drop and pant breathlessly.

"Patience," she murmured, her breath tickling your sensitive folds.

She continued her slow exploration, indulging her tongue as her fingers dance along the skin of your blimped thighs. Your breath hitched as you were dying of anticipation for her touch, her tongue.

Finally, fucking two fingers into you as she paid attention to your clit. Your deplore was sensuous, another train of cries and whines falling from your drooled lips.

Everything Abby did made you feel absolutely desired. Another thing, your husband could never do.

"You're so wet," Abby praises through her slurps and swallows of your leaking lithe. Abby’s fingers thrust forward, pushing in every inch of herself.

Her eyes darken as they watch themselves get squeezed in by your soppy fuzzed beneath. "So beautiful," she marvels, not getting enough of you.

"Don’t stop! please!”

Her thick fingers curl upward, she stroked your walls with her tips. She enjoys every moment of your writhing. Abby could live in this moment forever.

She smiled as your hips bucked up, chasing after every sensation. "So responsive," she purred, before adding a third thick finger inside you. she stretched you out completely, feeling every bit as your hands tugged onto her blonde hair.

She pulled her fingers out alight from so deep, dragging her tongue down once more your slick folds and lapping up your essence.

"Oh god!" Your moan gutteral and body thrashing against her and your bed. The tip of her fingers swirled inside softly, pressing onto your soft sex-gush.

An electrifying chilled jostled down to cramped hips as your stomach twisted blissfully. "Cum for me," she praises, working through your overwhelming orgasm.

Lewd spewls and ravenous chill flowed out and through you. Completely mind-fucked as you cream all over the tip of her fingers and tongue. Your body tightened like a coil, coating her with your sticky release with a final cry, "Oh, Abby!" As she cupped your leaking cum around her three fingers.

She brought them up to her lips, sucking them clean, releasing with a pop, and groan in delight. “You’re so fucking heavenly, taste it too.” She coos, crawling her way to meet your glowed and fucked out-self.

“Don’t tap out now, doll, I’m only getting started.”

Both of your integrity’s thrown out the door.

“This isn’t….” A pointless mumble left your lips, somewhat dawning the fact; You just cheated on your husband.

“They aren’t even here, right baby?”

a/n: ugh my slut ass probably gonna make another part 🤞🏼🐇

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[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts VII

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VIII *** God, she was meant to be a quick fuck and leave. Why couldn’t I get her out of my mind? I need her…

It was stupid of me to get drunk, and even stupider that I went to her apartment. She didn’t want me there, but she looked so cute in her pjs, I couldn’t help staying. I wasn’t so drunk that I couldn’t move, how’d you think I got there? It was a good excuse, even if she didn’t know it, to get her to touch me again. Her touch was intoxicating, something my body craved, yearned for, but I fucked it up. Ever heard the saying ‘drunk words are sober thoughts?’ “M’missed you…you looked s-so good in that long thing you were wearing in the flower home…”; “Baby, I know what I’m saying…miss you…miss your pussy…miss your love…”; “So pretty…su..such a good girl…my baby…” Even if some thought are more vulgar than others, they’re still true. Showing up drunk probably proved her point of how reckless and selfish I am, but you don’t know how much I miss you. I couldn’t get you out of my head, your curves, your eyes, your laugh…I need you beside me.

Playing limp body was fun, I got to hold her leg, cuddle up to her and even kiss her a little. So I have to pretend to be drunk all the time? No, no, bad idea! You’re trying to prove to her that you need her and only her. It was supposed to be a romantic gesture of some kind, but it failed…miserably. What happened to me? Every time I see her now, talking with Eloise, laughing with V, something burns inside of me. It’s an emptiness that I can’t explain, eating me from the inside out. Using other women to try and fill the hole was a shitty idea, especially since she found me with one. I think I get somewhere with her, but then I fuck it up again. She kicked me out of her apartment, “Stop coming to me when you’re high.” That one sentence haunting my mind, making me lose sleep at night. I fucked it up so bad, I need to earn her trust again, I can’t breathe without her. She doesn’t know the things she does to me, making me spend hours in my office, fucking my hand imagining it was her. My blood boils every time I see her with V, she laughs at his jokes, he gave her juice. He gave her the juice I bought for her, waiting for her to come back! Of course I had to lie to the others, saying I mixed up the flavours, no way I was telling them about the girl I was pinning over that I was also waiting for to return. God, I was whipped…

You were hard to find. I had to dig through the fucking system at work to figure out how to contact you. I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a creep, I just knew you wouldn’t willingly give me your number! And I doubt Lindsay would give it to me either. You sounded so sweet over the phone…your voice was like honey, something I’d be willing to drown in if it came from you. Yeah, you hung up on me, but I got to talk to you for a little! I’d call that a win. Another win was when you took the bouquet…I knew you’d like them. You always told me how you loved secret stories behind things, even if I could T give them to you, I’m glad Eloise could. Building that bouquet was hard! I wanted to take all the flowers you liked, but that wasn’t allowed. If I had a dime for the amount of times Eloise slapped my hand and told me to express my emotions through the flowers instead of pick what was prettiest, I’d be a millionaire. All those flowers that were strategically placed to tell you a story were working. After work, I’d come in to ask Eloise if you’d stopped by, gladly listening to her as she told me about your sweet smile and laugh, the way your nose scrunched up when you found a new flower and wanted to know what it signified. All of this will be worth it in the long run. Seeing you at the bar alone, sipping your rum and coke made me smile. The drink you ordered the first time we met. Sitting down, I expected you to leave or to tell me to leave. But you didn’t. Sure, you put up a fight, telling me to spit out what I wanted, so you could be alone and drink in peace but I wasn’t expecting you to listen. “I want you,” it just slipped out. But it sent shockwaves through me when you spoke “If you want me…like genuinely want me, you have to beg for it.” I had never been one for begging, but if that’s what it takes to have you in my life, I will beg for hours and hours, days, weeks, months. I need you in my life.

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[kybercrystals94]

Letting Go

Read here on Ao3

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 6 | Battle Scars

Rated: G | Words: 903 | Summary: Story takes place just before Omega leaves to join the Rebellion.

Crosshair sits down next to Hunter on the sand. “Omega told me what happened.”

“I’m sure she did,” Hunter says. It comes out harsher than he means it to, but he does not try to take it back. It seems that age has worn down the barriers of his emotions, bitterness and hurt leaking through.

“She said you were being unreasonable, overbearing, and overprotective,” Crosshair continues. “Not to mention your listening skills need some work, because you only care about your side of the argument.”

Hunter’s frown deepens. “Good to know.”

“And I said,” Crosshair goes on, as though Hunter hadn’t spoken, “the same thing I said way back when she was only about this big.” He holds out a hand to demonstrate.

Hunter rolls his eyes, because they never knew Omega when she was that small, but he gets the point.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I said?”

Hunter sighs. He’s too tired to play this game. “What did you say?”

“Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you.”

Hunter turns to look at Crosshair, surprised. “When did you tell her that?”

“When we were going to Barton IV,” Crosshair replies, digging a toothpick out of his pocket. He puts it between his teeth. “That kid’s always trying to prove herself, isn’t she? That she’s one of us.”

“She is one of us,” Hunter argues.

Crosshair huffs. “Of course she is, but she’s not a soldier, Hunter. She’s our kid, not our brother in arms. I don’t think she’s ever figured out the difference.”

“So she wants to join the Rebellion because she wants to prove herself as a soldier?”

“Not entirely, although I think that is part of it,” Crosshair says.

“And the other part?” Hunter asks.

Crosshair meets his eye. “She might not be a soldier, but she is a fighter. We raised her that way, didn’t we? To stand up for the defenseless, to do what’s right?”

“That’s not…” Hunter stops because his voice gives out, barbed anguish ensnared deep in his throat. He tries to swallow it away, but it is unyielding, so his voice cracks and breaks around it. “That’s not what I want for her. I want her to be safe. I want her to be here.”

A younger Crosshair might have looked away, trying to comfort from arm’s length. But just as time has made carefully constructed emotional walls brittle, time has softened the sharp edges of his brother. The former sniper moves closer, knocking their shoulders together. “I’m scared to lose her too.”

“We fought so hard to get away from war,” Hunter says brokenly, “to get Omega away from war. And she wants to throw herself into another.”

“I don’t want her to go,” Crosshair says. “But I think she’s already made up her mind. I don’t know where she gets her stubbornness from. Certainly not from me.”

Hunter chokes on the laugh that bubbles up through the mire of sorrow. “Hate to break it to you, Cross, but you’ve got a stubborn streak a hundred klicks wide.”

“Do I?” Crosshair muses, and Hunter glances at him in time to see a grin twitch his lips in the moonlight. “Because she reminds me an awful lot of you.”

“I see a little bit of all of us in her,” Hunter admits, “and yet she is still something all her own.”

Crosshair hums in agreement.

“What if she loses that?” Hunter asks. “What if joining the Rebellion steals that spark she’s always had? We changed so much from the time we were cadets and then soldiers. We didn’t have a choice. But Omega does. She doesn’t have to face the horrors we did, experience the pain and suffering. She’s safe here. Why can’t that be enough for her?”

“Omega already has battle scars, Hunter,” Crosshair says. “You think she went unscathed living the life she did before Pabu? The kid’s tougher than she looks.”

“I never said I didn’t think she could handle it,” Hunter argues, “She just shouldn’t have to.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Crosshair says. “She wants to. Whether we like it or not, she’s a grown woman. She needs to make her own decisions. She needs to have her own cause, her own life. She won’t have us forever!”

That last sentence is like a blaster bolt to the heart, a burning, white hot sensation that drives the breath from Hunter’s lungs. But he takes the pain and shoves it deep, turning his grieved anger on Crosshair instead. “So you want her to go. You’re encouraging her.”

“You know that’s not true,” Crosshair bites out, and Hunter can hear the effort his brother puts into controlling his own, retaliating anger. “But it’s not up to us. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. We have to let go.”

Bruised silence solidifies between them, and Hunter can’t find it in himself to disturb it. He should apologize, should appreciate Crosshair’s attempt at playing the mediator in spite of his own feelings on the matter. Why does Hunter feel at odds with every sibling, no matter where they stand on the issue?

“You’re stronger than I am,” Hunter mutters at last. “Omega can just talk to you about it…but with me, it’s a fight. Why?”

Crosshair sighs. “Because she doesn’t want my blessing, Hunter. She wants yours.”

And the last of Hunter’s brittle, emotional barrier crumbles completely.

END

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[loveandmurders]

You belong to Ambrose IV (Poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Alright, I was supposed to post this a lot sooner but life got in the way. It's finally here, and I hope you'll enjoy it like you did with the other parts.

This is the final chapter of the "You belong to Ambrose" series that you can find in my House of Wax masterlist.

This is the direct continuation of last chapter, that you can find here.

Warinings: no proofreading, mentions of murders, violence, sexual desire, very morally grey reader, angst/kinda comfort

A part of you wanted to let the Sinclairs win you over. But another part of you wanted to believe you were a good person. And a good person couldn’t love murders, especially not the murders of their own friends.

You wanted to get away from their touch, but the twins were too touch and love starved to let you get away from their hands that easily. They were both trying very hard to stay calm, because they didn’t want to scare you off. But truth to be told, they had no idea how long they would be able to keep it together if the love of their lives kept pushing them away.

The front door opened and Jonesy left the three of you to run greeting Lester. You were thankful for this distraction, especially when Lester called his brothers’ names, surprised to not find them in the living room or in the kitchen. He knew they couldn’t be sleeping, not when things weren’t fixed with you.

“Comin’” Bo replied.

The twins got up and they helped you doing so as well. You clearly couldn’t go back hiding in your room now. They gently guided you downstairs and Bo settled in the kitchen to fix something for you. You greeted Lester without showing any expression on your face. You weren’t too sure what to do. Lester shyly smiled at you and moved a hand behind his neck, as his eyes drank in the sight of you.

“Hey, Y/N. Ya lookin’ real beautiful, ya know. I thought so the second I saw ya. Ya’ve always been pretty, but now, ya’re just as perfect as a goddess.” Lester said. He had always been the one showering you with nonstop compliments. 

“Thanks Lester.'' you simply said, as you didn’t want to seem to enjoy the sweet words coming your way. 

You sat at the kitchen table with Vincent and Lester.

“And it’s really nice to have ya back home, because your absence was all drivin’ us quite crazy. It was hell actually” Lester softly babbled again, because he couldn’t help when he was around you.

“You all seem to have done pretty well without me” you tried but the three men exchanged looks. They really hadn’t.

“We’re talkin’ ‘bout ya all the time, ya know. I think ya’re our favourite subject of conversation; the only one we can have without arguin’. We always agree we want and need ya back home” he admitted which made the twins groan but they didn’t stop Lester from talking. It was good that one of them was that straight forward about their feelings for you. Vincent even hoped it would help relax you around them.

“Ah yes?” you couldn’t stop yourself from being a little bit curious, and flattered about it. “Don’t see what you can talk about though” you hummed with a shrug. But Lester quickly shook his head

“Ya’re the girl of our life, so of course we’ve got a lot to say ‘bout ya” he brightly smiled and you looked away, feeling yourself blushing.

“Didn’t know Bo rubbed on you and you became a sweet talker yourself” you replied to hide your emotions. Vincent snorted in amusement, Bo arched an eyebrow at you and Lester blushed as well.

“Just speakin’ the truth” he defended himself and you hummed. “We never stopped bein’ in love with ya. Never stopped thinkin’ ‘bout ya.”

You all stayed silent after that, but it wasn’t as tense as before.

You thanked Bo for the food and ate, lost in your own thoughts. You could feel the boys watching you, but you were used to it. You had always been the centre of their attention. And you used to enjoy this very much. You could really pretend that nothing happened, that you never left Ambrose. You knew the three men around you would like that very much. Especially when for the moment, they had to keep their hands to themselves.

They all wondered what you were thinking about but they didn’t want to upset you even more than they already did, not when your relationship was on a thin line like that.

The more you thought about the situation, the clearer you realised you were mad at them because they killed your people. Your friends deserved a happier and softer ending. You were quite heartbroken still. And you knew it was your fault too. 

It was your fault because your fate has always been to get back to Ambrose and you should have come on your own. Destiny wanted your road trip to end in the Sinclairs’ arms, and it was certain the brothers wouldn't leave anyone around you. They were jealous and possessive beasts. You hated how conflicted your emotions were: you were mad at the brothers and at yourself, but you were also very relieved to be there. You were home. You were where you belong. You would forget about your friends soon enough, once the guilt would wear off, like it always did. You weren’t such a good person, and you knew it.

And yet, you were the brothers’ angel, perfection, goddess.

You kept thinking and you realised your mother was a “problem” in the not so planned Sinclairs’ objective of having you back. They could kill your friends, but they couldn’t kill your mother so easily. And she would notice your absence, and she might call the cops and tell them about Ambrose if you went missing for too long. And your dead friends… You couldn’t believe how impulsive the brothers had been. You weren’t too surprised though; they couldn’t think straight around you.

“You really are idiots, sometimes” you whispered but they heard you. They were relieved to hear you talk to them.

“Why that?” Bo asked

“You killed everyone but… what’s the plan for my mother?” you said and the boys exchanged a look. 

They had talked quite a bit about it earlier that day and they didn’t know what to do. Their priority was having you, but they were aware they would need to deal with this as well. And quickly, before they could lose everything forever.

“What do ya offer?” Bo asked and you chuckled

“Not my mess” you replied and he frowned

“Ya didn’t tell her anythin’ earlier. I know ya’re on our side” he pointed at you “Ya ain’t wantin’ to admit it but ya’re happy to be in Ambrose again. It’s why ya came so close by. Ya were just afraid we’d kill ya or hurt ya, but now ya see we only want ya back, ya want to stay” he said and you hated how close to the truth he was. You refused to acknowledge his words as you bit on your bottom lip.

“She knows about Ambrose and she knows about my road trip with my…” you sighed “She knows. She’ll worry, she already started to do so.”

“This is indeed a problem” Vincent agreed

“But ya wanna stay, right? And don't wanna anythin’ bad happenin’ to us?” Lester asked you, giving you his best puppy eyes.

You looked away and didn’t say anything at first. Of course you wanted things to be alright for once in your life. 

You had often dreamed of that moment and it always ended the same: or you killed your mother or you killed yourself. You never thought it would all become true though. You had never thought you would truly be back in Ambrose with the three men you loved.

At least, you knew what to do. It was as if you had planned all of this from the start. Or maybe it was just the Devil whispering to your ear.

“I… I’ll need some time to forgive you all for what happened to my friends” you said

“And we’ll do anythin’ ya wanna” Bo hummed and you believed him

“I know. And yeah I’m happy to be back. And I never stopped loving you all either” you admitted, feeling a little bit shy about it. You didn’t look at them, but soon enough your were pulled into their embrace. Bo had been the first one to react to your words by getting up and grabbing you for a big hug. Vincent and Lester soon joined in. You relaxed into their warmth. You all felt complete once again.

“There is only one way” you whispered “We need to fake my own death. I mean like something official. My mom must believe the police found my body and that she buried it” you finally said. You leaned away to have a better look at them.

They reluctantly let you go as they thought about your words.

It would allow you to resume the only life that was meant for you, without anyone to look for you. Your mother would have never let you get back to Ambrose and now that your friends were dead, it was only making things even more complicated. If you all disappeared, it would be alright.

You knew there would be no coming back from this though. Once you would be no one, you would never be able to get back in the real world. You would be stuck in Ambrose forever, with the people you loved. You would finally be yourself again. A part of you was aware you were choosing over Hell, but love isn’t soft. Love is destructive, consuming everything and everyone until nothing is left. You were finally feeling alive again.

“The next tourists who come here, we violently kill them, we break their teeth so they can't be identify and we put them in your car. We drive far away, where you were supposed to be, and we burn everything down.” Bo quickly found a plan

“We need to be certain…” 

“Don’t worry, darl’. We deal with this.” Bo assured you with a charming smile and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Shit happens and it’s not necessarily linked to Ambrose” Vincent signed, knowing you were worried the police would find the place

“My mom will accuse you right away” you replied

“I’ll make sure the cops won’t find Ambrose” Lester smiled at you

You wanted to trust them with that. You knew they were smart and resourceful. And it was about you, it was about your future together. You could trust them. They were going to protect you, they were going to keep you all theirs again, they were finally be able to be happy again too.

You finally nodded “Okay, then.”

You took your phone from your pocket and handed it to Bo. He would be able to use it if he needed to. And he would be able to destroy it too. You were handing the brothers your life, like they had given you theirs a long time ago. Bo cupped your face and softly smiled. You saw his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips.

“Nuh nuh, still mad at y’all. You have convinced me to stay, not to be your girlfriend again” you said as you moved away from his touch. Both the twins groaned at yours words, but they respected it. And they were going to do anything to get you back like before.

Once you would allow them to touch you like they used to, you knew they wouldn't stop kissing and pleasuring you for quite a while. They were hungry for you. Lester was cheeky enough to believe he would be the first one to get back in your good grace.

You all stayed silent a little longer. You were thinking you were crazy, but you were so calm about all of this. It felt right, no matter how wrong it was. 

Lester brought you back to reality as he took your hand in his, his eyes bright with happiness.

“Hey, Y/N, welcome home!”

---

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[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

[persephone11110]

tummy hurts || j.seresin

tw:grooming,childhood trauma, emotional manipulation, past sexual abuse->child sexual abuse, self victim blaming-victim blaming (not jake) mentions of alcohol, past child neglect, the school system failed, jake calls reader goldie, Y/n hit Jake in chest a couple of times

summary:“Little girls like you aren’t loved”.Your head was laying on the pillow next to him, your naked bodies touching eachother, he loved you…you loved him.

IMPORTANT NOTE: this is a very sensitive topic so please tread carefully also please let me know if there should be more trigger warnings

AN: a fic born after falling into a PLL hole on tik tok and the title comes from Tummy Hurts- Renee Rapp. Also ngl the reason Ive on a break was bcus my fics were going downhill and sad as it is it hard watching other fics blow up and your can’t even make it to double digits within hours.

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THIS FIC IS ABOUT CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE/ SEXUAL ASSAULT, SELF& VICTIM BLAMING, AND CHILD NEGLECT

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“Sweetheart?” Jake asked slowly, unsure if his old man hearing was fucking with him. His voice dropped to a lower tone as more rage filled his chest.

Saturday nights were designated for you dine with your husband. A night were you and Jake catch up with each other, his aviation schedule and your college professor schedule was hard to work with.

You hated drinking more than one glass of wine as it always made your tongue loose. Somehow you managed to pour another glass it felt nice to let loose—what didn’t feel nice was your husband knowing how much dignity you didn’t have as a teenager.

“Goldie, you were how old” Jake grabs your hand, gently taking the glass out of your hand. Careful not talk to roughly. He watches as the color drains out of your face.

You were lucky enough to have a history teacher who didn’t give up on his students—especially not you.

Mr.Daniels, the best history teacher there was, he had goods and bad days. But who didn’t?

You and him bonded over the love of historical events. He didn’t tell you to stop talking or, to get the hell out. He would sit there with a warm smile listening to you go on and on about history.

You don’t how many times you’ve tried talking about your interests to mom and dad. And how many times they’ve stared at you with a blank face, or told you to go away.

But Mr. Edward Daniels didn’t. You had the privilege to call him Eddie when it was just the two alone inside the classroom after school hours.

He called you Y/n and you called him Eddie when you laid your mop of brown curls aganist his bare chest.

His blue sheets wrapped your naked body, the hickeys that riddled your stomach and hips.

“I was fifteen Jake”. you sighed dropping your hands into your lap. “He was a freshman history teacher—it was his first year teaching”.

“Y/n Collins”, he dropped a hand onto your shoulder, “I like the way you argue kid”.

“Fifteen, jesus”, Jake rubbed a hand over his face,“How come you never brought this up before sweetheart?”.

Not even a butcher knife could cut through the silence in the room.

Because you loved him. He gave you the love that no one else would.

“Its been over decade Jake…. times were different back then”. You said, chewing at the bottom of your lip. Your bouncy leg betrayed in how confident you sounded in your response.

“Doesn’t matter what decade were in you were a child and he was adult”. He softly glared at you, “His job was to protect and teach you about wars and he couldn’t even do that”.

You leaned back into couch wishing the damn thing would swallow you whole. Why’s Jake trying to make you seem like a victim—you aren’t one you and Eddie were lovers in the past.

Jake sat across from you he had a death grip on the beer bottle. “He loved me Jake, he was the first man to ever give me a chance of being loved”.

Jake felt the need to empty his stomach at the words that came from your mouth. He scooted closer to you, there wasn’t any space between the both of you anymore.“Was it just a one time?”.

You couldn’t look your own husband in the eye.

Jake would know how dirty his wife is.

Your silence was enough for him,“It wasn’t one time Y/n?”. Jake eyebrows furrowed,“Y/n whatever answer you give I hope you know I’d never shame or judge you”.

“We lasted for atleast for over year in half, before the school transfered him out of state”.

How long would It take me to find him and kill him.

Son of a bitch was transferred, he didn’t lose his teaching license.

“Goldie”,Jake calls your name gently—while grabbing your hands into his. “Look at me”.

You curled into yourself—Jake’s mad at you. “ Please don’t yell at me”. your voice hiccuped, you were begging him. You could handle anything but Jake Seresin yelling at you with so much anger and digust filled in his voice.

“Oh I could never blame you baby not now, not ever”. He gently cupped the side of your face, “I need you to understand how this isn’t your fault baby”. He moved around and positioned himself to make your foreheads touch eachother.

“Jake” you mumbled before you shoving your face into his neck. “I’m-”.

Jake shook his head at you he gently pulled from him,“Darlin i don’t wanna you even to think about apologizing to me”, He pressed a kiss into your cheek before speaking again.“The only one who deserves that is you, the adults around you should’ve looked out for you, your parents had one job and it was to just love you”.

You curled into yourself, you didn’t deserve Jakes love.

“Sweetheart i’m sorry for my rant here it just makes me angry that all those adults in your life and no one protected you, a innocent child who willed for love and attention from her parents”. You held onto Jake tightly afraid that in a split second he change his mind and leave you.

Your breathing became shaky and weak the hiccups got worse—your sobs got louder.

You weren’t a victim.

Jake Seresin didn’t know what he was talking about, your husband wasn’t there fifteen years ago.

He’s wrong-.

“Sweetheart”. Jake reached to grab you, “Y/n”.

Your arms become flailing, your were pretty sure your hands and Jakes chest connected atleast once or twice.

“Its okay Y/n, Its okay sweetheart”, Jake was finally able to get a grip on you—pulling your head ontop of his chest. “Shh baby, let it all out”.

“He hurt me so much Jake and nobody cared”, you sobbed.“When I finaly got the courage to tell my parents they looked at me and the first thing that came out their mouth was whore. “Y/n how much of whore do you have to be to sleep with a man well into his early forties?” -.

Jake wiped a tear from your face.“You got someone who cares Y/n, you have someone who loves you just as you are”. Jake sighed, would he be bad person if he took the nearest flight to his wife hometown and he beat old man to a pulp?

Bad man or good husband?, those lines tend to blur when the love of his life gets hurt.

“Baby just say the word me and the daggers can hop the earliest flight and kill a man, while Ice and Mav are our alibi’s”.

Jake catches a small smile breaking through—its small but he’ll take it . “Theres that smile that broke my pool winning streak”,Jake smiles into your shoulder.

“Thank you Jake for loving me, thank you for piecing back my broken pieces”. you murmured quietly, knowing that if you go another octave higher theres a chance that you’ll start crying again.

“Oh baby I should be thanking you, you trusted me with your heart— and Y/n you were always whole you just didn’t feel it”.

My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore.

[saintjosie]

hi! no idea if you take asks like this but thought i'd try. i'm writing a transfem character in a fanfic (in canon they are a cis guy, i just headcanon her as trans), specifically about effects of estrogen. i'm doing a lot of research but i was wondering if there's anything specific you think would be important to know? ty in advance if you do answer! <3

oooh what a fun ask!

having recently taken a stab at writing some fanfic myself, i think the things that would be the most helpful are the things that are more anecdotal because i’d imagine those would be the things that would help get inside her head.

first, there’s a lot of stuff about some of the physical changes out there like softer skin, thinner body hair (but not necessarily less) boob growth, fat redistribution, changes to color perception, eyes and lips appearing bigger because of skin changes and fat redistribution etc. but also really important to writing a trans character is the pacing of the those changes.

the changes are slow. much much slower than most people want. there’s a specific frustration in the slowness because while some changes happen quickly, other take years. and also frustration in comparison. some people see changes within weeks or even days. some people don’t see anything for months or years.

in my own personal experience, everything happened FAST. within a few DAYS i had the beginnings of breast buds. within a few weeks skin had visibly softened and changed texture, especially on my face. but other things took more time. i didn’t really have real boobs until 2.5-3 years in, even though i saw other people with the same timeframe or shorter have much more breast development. the patience required can be excruciating but also the joy is overwhelming and it’s a constant cycle.

and another thing i don’t see talked about too much bc it’s hard to qualify and sometimes hard for some people to notice are the way i process emotions and the way i think about things. now HUGE caveat, some people will use this as a way to justify bio-essentialism and transmedicalism and so it’s very important to note that this is MY experience and uniquely interacts with my own journey.

when i started hrt, within a few hours of taking the first dose, i felt different. not physically, but almost as if there was a peace in my soul because my mind became less cloudy and i could differentiate my emotions more clearly. and i used to think this is because t-blockers means no t and no t means less angry but trans mascs would tell me that their experience with t is the same and not the opposite. i’ve now realized that kind of thinking was actually invalidating to trans mascs on t. and ive realized that its actually because testosterone didn’t feel right in my body and removing it from the equation helped me understand myself better. i had always experienced emotions in this way and my discomfort with my body had stopped me from understanding the complexity and nuance with how i was feeling.

and it took me YEARS to understand what had happened. and it happened alongside of being in therapy and a lot of personal growth. hrt was the catalyst but it was the effort i put into growth that made the difference.

if you have any more questions, i’d love to share more cause i think it would be fantastic if more people who were not trans fem would be able to write trans fem characters with substance, nuance, and complexity! it’s difficult but important and thank you for attempting to do so and approaching this with respect!

[sugxrrxt]

Brudick, with all the things that happen in Dick's life he isnt surprised that he ended up liking /that/. He doesnt think he can outright say it. It haunts him. Dick doesnt really know where it came from specifically. And its not like he can easily share it with people, so, what if hes started being a bit more "provocative" or wearing more "revealing" clothes. He enjoys the leering, the way his stomach twists a bit in fear. Dick has always loved danger. It comes with being an acrobat.

Flashing people is dangerous. He won't disagree on that but the subtle blink and you miss he does, the way eyes burn into his body for a split second longer. He loves it so much. Being Nightwing just adds more fun. He knows what he does to people. If he lets people grope him a bit more as Nightwing thats between him and god really. Dick just needs someone to suddenly grab him and take him in an alleyway. After that he'll be normal!

Dick thinks hes being subtle. No one has noticed, not even Barbara. Its his little shameful secret. But if Dick knows Bruce like the back of his hand. So does Bruce.

Bruce had a tight morality. Whatever Dick was doing or planning to do was breaking it. In a way. Its dangerous. Dick is breathtaking, everyone agrees, all brown skin, beauty marks, wavy hair, and blue eyes that sucks you in. Dick didnt need to be whatever... hes doing to attract attention. A vile emotion sits low in Bruce's gut (an emotion he doesnt want to name). Dick doesnt need to bend over like that. Subtly flashing his chest or panties. Dick can easily get what he wants. This pattern on Dick's behavior was concerning. Bruce has been following Dick for weeks now and the behavior was only ramping up. An intervention must be held.

The intervention wasn't going to go like Bruce had planned. Powerpoint presentation down the drain so did the snacks he was planning to buy. One second he was tailing Dick and the next his boy was being dragged into an abandoned building. He runs after them. When he finds Dick pinned to the wall, legs being spread, and a man he doesnt recognize grinding /down/. He sees red.

Bruce blanks out. Only stopping when Dick yanks him away holding his bruised and bloodied knuckles. Before Dick can talk, he lifts him over his shoulder and walks off to Dick's apartment. Ignoring the yelps and hitting.

"Bruce. What the fuck!" Even before being shoved inside the apartment, Dick starts.

He straightens his back, towering over Dick, his expression gloomy, "I should be asking /you/ that."

Dick's face pinches, "I had that covered."

"What part did you have covered? Allowing yourself to be dragged away? I recall civillian Dick Grayson capable of atleast putting up a fight. You couldve avoided that. Getting pinned to a wall is inexcusable Dick."

Dick tries to speak, mouth opening and closing. A flush slowly spreading on his cheeks. "I know him."

"No you dont. Ive been-" Bruce knows Dick will throw a fit but- "following you. You do not know that man."

Dick looks scandilized then angry, "Really!? Do you not have any trust for me!?"

"I do but i dont think I can trust you to take care of yourself if youve been gallivanting about like-" he stops himself, breathing in and out.

Bruce continues, "Whatever this /thing/ youre doing. Stop it. Youre going to get hurt, and i wont be able to help."

The tip of Dick's ear has become red, he stares intensely at Bruce, analyzing. Bruce stands akwardly fists clenched. "What were you trying to do?"

If Dick was flustered before now he was flushed, its been a long time since hes seen Dick embarassed but it never gets any less sweeter. "Nothing."

"Hard to believe." He raises a brow. The flush was becoming more obvious.

"It was nothing Bruce." Glaring up. "Can you leave now?"

Bruce steps forward crowding Dick. "No."

One step back another step forward. Continuing until Dick was backed into his wall. "I have nothing to say."

"I have hours worth of footage of your sudden acting out. Is it pollen? Blackmail? Tell me Dick. Let me help you."

Dick suddenly looks unsure, from this angle, Dick's long lashes seemed to flutter in his face. Bruce holds Dick's arm and squeezes. Dick looks up then down, guilt clear in ocean blue eyes. "Its stupid."

"Dick."

"Its stupid! Can you just drop this!"

"No! Youve been flashing people, letting people grope you, do you know how many people have taken pictures of you!" Bruce cant read what Dick is trying to do, and it scares him.

"I wanna be-" and he says the next part so quietly.

He makes a grunt. Dick looks away and mumbles it again.

"Dick. Speak up."

Looking down, "raped."

Bruce processes that. Then his grip tightens, "So youd endanger yourself like that?" The thought of someone else doing that to Dick disgusted him. Breaking Dick and then leaving him there.

"Its- its not like- like-" Dick struggles. At a loss for words for the first time in a long while infront of Bruce.

And Bruce without thinking speaks. "Let me rape you."

Dick blanches. "Ah- what!?"

Bruce leans close, walling Dick in. His hand moves to Dick's waist. A firm hold. Maybe he should start now, if Dick has been doing all that for the strict intention of getting raped, Bruce getting consent would be pointless. So, he shoves his leg between Dick's, muscled thigh pressing against Dick's crotch. His free hand pins Dick's wrist down. The hand on Dick's waist slowly travels up. Brushing against his nipples, Dick jolts. He wasnt even fighting Bruce off. Shock colouring his face. He pinches, the startled noise and Dick's legs tightening against his thigh has Bruce's thoughts slowly going south. Bruce goings to Dick's neck, inhaling his scent and bites down. He grinds his thigh into Dick as his bites and kisses travels down.

"Bruce-" he rips the button up open with one hand. "Bruce! Wait-" now struggling against him.

Bruce was a brickwall. This is what Dick wanted. He will provide for him instead of anyone else. The grip on Dick's wrist turns bruising. Bruce putting his mouth on Dick's nipple has his boy whining above him, finally moving his hips on his thigh.

[fisherobsessedmyb]

(sal and larry + little brother reader) oooo well I used to have a lot of nightmares as a kid, and I would have loved to have a sibling to hug, so maybe something about that? lil brother coming crying to them at night and asking to sleep next to them where it’s warm and safe, MAYBE he’s having the nightmares due to the ghosts and demons in the apartment, and they both get a lil mad and go out of their way to find whatever is causing it :)

could be headcanons, or if it’s too short then a small oneshot would also work, but you do you! and yes, you have a life outside of tumblr, take your time! :D thank you!

🔹Sal/Larry older brother hcs!🔹

🔹Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson X M!Younger Sibling!Reader!🔹

🔹CW|nightmares i guess?🔹

🔹Sal and larry would definitely have different approaches to comforting their younger brother after a nightmare🔹

🔹Though both would be caring and helpful🔹

🔹Sal would be able to empathise a lot due to his night terrors and would maybe try to relate by sharing the fact he has his own nightmares🔹

🔹Larry would probably crack a joke or two to cheer his younger brother up, but he'd also listen if that was what he needed🔹

🔹Maybe one particular night their younger brother left his bedroom during the night after a particularly bad nightmare, to find them🔹

🔹And maybe saw them watching tv so he sat inbetween them on the couch🔹

🔹I can imagine Sal asking if hes okay, and why hes up🔹

🔹Which then may lead to either their brother crying remembering the dream, or bottling up those emotions and lying🔹

🔹If he lied, i think larry would pick up on it, along with sal🔹

🔹Larry might pat his back gently, asking something along the lines of"you sure, dude? Youre not usually up this late"🔹

🔹And sal might ask softly something like "you dont have to lie, y/n. Whats wrong?"🔹

🔹Which would lead to their brother admitting he had a nightmare and being visibly more anxious, though he calms down with the comfort of larry and sal🔹

🔹In the case that he just admits that he had a nightmare though, i imagine he'd still be shaken up and maybe tear up a bit, looking down at his hands🔹

🔹Which just might be fidgeting like sals do(a/c:sals hand do fidget/twitch in the game when hes younger!)🔹

🔹He'd be embarrassed, saying quietly something like "i had another nightmare, i dont know why"🔹

🔹His voice may even crack a bit, leading sal and larry to worry more🔹

🔹But i imagine sal would gladly hug his brother(if wanted) without hesitation, sympathising with his brother🔹

🔹Larry would probably pat his back, listening🔹

🔹I imagine theyd be 10x more concerned and sympathetic once their brother describes his nightmare🔹

🔹Given the details, it isnt hard to tell that theyre influenced by the apartments🔹

🔹I imagine larry being pissed, feeling protective🔹

🔹I imagine sal would feel equally as protective, though less angry and more worried🔹

🔹But they'd keep those feelings down for the moment, focusing on comforting him🔹

🔹In either scenario, theyd comfort their brother, and sit with him watching tv until he fell asleep again🔹

🔹Then discuss what to do about it🔹

🔹I imagine they'd continue to comfort their younger brother after every nightmare, while trying to stop them🔹

🔹Sal might sit with their younger brother until he falls asleep🔹

🔹And larry might draw with him until they fall asleep(on his shoulder)🔹

🔹In the end, they'd end up getting rid of their younger brother's nightmares🔹

🔹Though, they'd still stay with him to help them feel safer🔹

🔹I think theyd take turns staying up incase their younger sibling woke up🔹

🔹Theyd always be ready to comfort him when he wakes up, even if he didnt wake up from a nightmare🔹

A/n:i wasnt sure how to end this lol but i hope this is ok, anon! Brains a lil funky lately o.0 n ive been busy so it was harder 2 come up w/ stuff but yk :) hope ya enjoy, it was fun writin! happy reading!

[numberonetacostan]

hi shrimp here

its always test tube darkfic this test tube darkfic that (/silly no insult intended) but how about a taco darkfic ive yet to find a taco darkfic

so much potential actually

how about taco going for long hours without sleep from trying to stay alert in the forest and starting to hallucinate stuff. like seeing random hotel residents strolling in the forest and thinking that they're something else out to get her so she just randomly attacks and/or kills them. " oj there's a thing in the woods killing us " and it's just taco going feral

or uhh something something taco messing up stuff in hotel oj or being out to get the residents and everyone is fuckin' terrified idk

i need someone to write a taco-centric darkfic please please please ill give whoever does it my soul and everything i have in my wallet ($2.50 <33)

Hiya Shrimpy!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in an ask!!! :] A darkfic is a fic that contains serious or unpleasant themes, and in which characters tend to act differently then in canon to allow this, yeah? I looked up the definition so I hope this is right!!!

Okay, so fics in which Taco finally snaps. Yeah I think Taco has probably hallucinated while in the woods. Between being quite hungry all the time, not sleeping, emotional turmoil, the chance of her mistakenly eating berries that can cause hallucinations, and being so isolated, she would be quite vulnerable to them. And given how she lashes out with violence? Taco goes feral in the woods. I like to think she put up the "Perilous Forest" sign herself to keep people out, but maybe in this scenario OJ had it put up to warn people away from the forest, since there's presumably a murderous beast in there. I do not doubt Taco's ability to kill with her bare hands one bit.

I had a little idea a while back that might qualify as a darkfic? It has to do with Taco being out to get the residents, so. I didn't think it out a ton, but the basic premise has to do with how much fanfic potential Cobs' control over Melife is. Because WOW there's a lot. So uh, during the years in which everyone on Inanimate Island was frozen, Cobs steals Taco and uhhh possesses her. Yeah. I told you I didn't think this one out much bear with me. Basically, through Melife, he either suppresses or removes Taco's consciousness from her body entirely, and uses her instead of Mephone X to delete the contestants. He can use Melife to modify her body to be able to X other people, for more angst, or delete them remotely as Toilet or whoever is piloting her body gets to the contestants. She could break through for just a moment when her body tries to attack Mic, because she's GAY, and try to stop herself and explain what's happening, but she gets pushed back down hard and fast. As for why Cobs shifts to using a contestant? What's more scary than your Dad killing your creations? One of your creations snapping after everything you've put her through, and trying to end everyone. He wants that delicious shimmer scream!!! Also!!! She'd be topped with little pieces of corn while she's possessed.

I hope that can help quench your thirst!!!! To be completely honest I'm not 100% on sharing this because there are much better things that can be done with Cobs' control of Melife and I think this idea is pretty eh actually, but that just might be my tastes. This is kind of embarrassing to put on my blog. Maybe I don't like darkfics as much, who knows? I certainly love angst, where's the line between them? Idk. uhhhh I may end up deleting this later, shrimpo, if I get too embarrassed so if you want it for later, save it somewhere.

[hookedsworks]

HOOKEDHOBBIES KINKTOBER 2024

Day 7: Bruising or Bitemarks // Virgin // Ice Play (<- psst if you want ice play it's back in day 1)

Word count: 1042

Masterpost

SLEEP TOKEN FANFICTION

CW/TW: pushy/dark!IV is back, bitchy!Vessel, emotional support!II, first time doing anal (it counts as virgin, I've just decided), bruising/biting/sucking, "excessive" lube use

“When are you gonna let me take you, huh?” IV grinned at Vessel when he walked into the den. He was playing a game, lounging and thinking about finally being able to fuck Vessel. Vessel had always been so nervous, so skittish about penetration. IV wished he'd just try it, just to see, just to learn exactly how good it is. He turned his big baby eyes on IV, wider than a deer in headlights. “I'd make it good, you know?” 

“It’s gonna hurt,” Vessel shook his head. IV paused his game and stood up. He wrapped his arms around Vessel and squeezed lightly. 

“You think I’d hurt you, baby? Let me try. You got anything you’re doing today? I could take you apart right now,” IV grinned up at Vessel, who he saw melting. “You know, even if you don’t actually want to, if nothing else I’ll make you feel good,” he kept pushing, murmuring things to Vessel and tugging his earlobe with his teeth. 

“I-uh-ah-okay fine!” Vessel caved as IV insisted and murmured and licked at his neck. IV grabbed his hand and hauled Vessel to his bedroom. “C-can II be here?” 

“I can’t have you all to myself, hm?” 

“M’scared,” IV hid his look of disappointment - he wanted to take Vessel’s remaining virginity all for himself. 

“Alright, fine. He can hold your hand and everything. II!” he then shouted across the house. II came bounding in like a cute little deer. 

“What’s up?” 

“Vessel is going to let me try to take him, but he wants you to hold his hand while I do it,” II barked out a laugh, but then he saw Vessel’s face. 

“Oh, hun, you’re really scared? IV will be good to you. I’ll come with you,” they all traipsed off to IV’s bedroom then. 

Vessel was naked and panting. IV had kissed and licked and bitten every part of Vessel until he was begging to cum. 

“You think he’s ready?” IV murmured to II, who was watching everything with his cock in his hand. II nodded. IV grabbed Vessel’s hips and flipped him over. II grabbed Vessel’s hand then and squeezed it. 

“You say something if it gets to be too much, okay?” Vessel nodded, desperate and probably on the edge of tears. IV warmed some lube on his fingers and then delicately touched Vessel. Vessel, as expected, flinched. He slid his fingers down to Vessel’s hole and spread lube around it. “See, that’s not so bad is it?” II kissed Vessel’s neck then. And then, because he could tell IV had left hickies over every other inch of Vessel, he sucked a dark hickey right under Vessel’s jawbone. IV inhaled hard through his teeth and stopped himself from taking Vessel then and there. He couldn’t help it - he wanted to make Vessel cry. He slowly worked his index finger inside of Vessel. Vessel hissed and whined. 

“Are you using any lube?” he had such a bitchy tone, IV needed to sass him right back. IV withdrew his index finger and grabbed the whole bottle of lube. He drizzled icy lube between Vessel’s cheeks, making him whine again. “Goddammit, IV,” 

“Breathe for me,” was all IV said in response as he worked his index finger into Vessel. He got his index finger all the way in without further complaint, and then withdrew it mostly. He got more lube on his finger, and then tried to sneak his middle finger in with his index. He went slowly, but Vessel whined regardless. 

“That feels bigger, I swear, did you add another finger already?” IV ignored him. He knew that if Vessel just felt for a second, then he’d start to enjoy it. IV searched for a second with his index finger. A long, desperate whine jumped out of Vessel then, and IV knew he’d found his prostate. 

“There we go, isn’t that better,” he didn’t think he actually cared if it was better. He was finally two fingers deep in his bitchy boy. The tight heat would be everything on his cock later. And it would be today, he knew it. He wasn’t letting Vessel leave without getting IV’s dick in him. He tortured Vessel’s prostate until he came. That had not been IV’s intention, but then he figured that getting an orgasm out of Vessel would relax him. Once Vessel came down, he turned back and bitched at IV. 

“I just washed my sheets, IV!” IV still had two fingers inside of Vessel. He worked a third in with little warning or gentleness. Vessel threw his head back then, and… pushed against IV’s fingers. 

“You like it now?” he asked, feeling Vessel kind of fuck himself on IV’s fingers. 

“I-I don’t-m’not sure,” Vessel mumbled, after realizing he had pushed IV’s fingers further into him. II was staring at both of them, wide eyed. He nodded at IV then. IV raised an eyebrow at him, but took the meaning all the same. IV settled then, cockhead at Vessel’s ass. He leaned up, and sunk his teeth into Vessel’s neck, opposite II’s softer hickey. 

“No, stop…” he moved his hands up to IV’s shoulders, pushing him off of his neck. IV didn’t budge, sucking a bruise into the spot under Vessel’s ear, grunting.

“You’re mine now,” and with that, he pushed inside of Vessel. He paused for a second, the tightness pushing him toward a breaking point already. “Finally,” he groaned. He’d just barely gotten his cockhead inside. He didn’t want to fuck up and cum now. He wanted to get at least half of his dick inside. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Vessel was making these adorable little noises, whining and groaning about IV being in him. IV pushed further, and Vessel clenched so hard he thought his dick was going to snap off inside of Vessel. It was too much. He came. IV’s cum was hot and strange and foreign inside of Vessel. The heat was… he never thought he’d like this. But IV had taken his last virginity and he hadn’t totally hated it. 

Later, Vessel looked in the mirror and screamed. IV had left a million marks on him. He stalked out to the den and chucked a hairbrush at IV, shouting “how dare you!” with angry tears in his eyes.

II stared after Vessel, shocked by his outburst. IV just laughed.