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#hopefully this isn't too angsty?
eelektroenthusiast · 9 months
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"Someone's missing. It's feels verrrry different. But I'm not alone"
Made this in a day and a night so it's... rushed, this is basically an excuse for me to practice different styles (hopefully it makes sense?)
Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone!!
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head---ache · 3 months
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hi does anyone have fic recommendations im sooo in the mood to read something long and to get attached and cry when i finish it but nothing i find interests me or it isn't long enough yOU GUYS DON'T UNDERSTAND I WANT TO GET INVESTED I WANT SOMETHING I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD-
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chatxkilluaxnoir · 2 months
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I have Gravity Falls and Etc. fic(s) idea(s)
Which, I am going to write now while I am having this fic idea (probably going to be a short one, but in the future I might make a revised expanded version or something. Who knows).
I actually have multiple Gravity Falls and GF TAU and Reverse Falls and etc. stuff that stems from this specific The Book of Bill thing.
Specifically stuff exploring Dipper's nightmares.
(I have some other ideas for the other dreams and/or nightmares too. Sometimes even in relation to Dipper's in some way).
I love my boy, and his nightmares hurt my heart.
But also because I love him, I want to explore even more of issues/trauma/suffering and/or to do Dipper angst. And etc.
Because I want both happiness and/or suffering for my faves/the characters I love very much.
Like Dipper.
So he is going to be getting even more of that from me, probably.
Because he is great and I love him.
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ihave-atummyache · 10 months
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everyone is a little toxic
Stray Kids Imagine
summary: toxic traits of skz
sfw! mean!skz toxic!skz but nothing crazy fr. suuuuuper angsty
-OT8
5.7k words
ik i said that i would post it all in one part but mwahahahha😈 there will be a pt 2. later gators
pt2:
Bang Chan: Overworks himself then takes it out on you.
You scoop the meal you just made into a bowl and stare at the steaming food, your lip between your teeth. It is for your boyfriend, Chan, who has locked himself in his room to keep working on a track. The same track that practically had him in tears last week.
You know if you go in and bother him, there is a fifty-fifty chance of him snapping at you. He often does when you 'bother' him while he is working. It isn't your fault that you get concerned for your extremely overworked boyfriend!
You let out a deep sigh and pick the bowl up before making your way over to the room that was set up as an office for him. You knock gently on the door twice before letting yourself in. He often has headphones on and doesn't notice you when you knock so you always let yourself in.
"Channie?" You question, walking towards his hunched figure at his desk. You glances over at you when he senses your presence but doesn't bother taking a headphone off or even trying to talk to you.
You bite down on your lip and debate walking back out of the room and not even talking to him or offering him food. He has been locked up in this room for almost 24 hours. He neglected coming to bed last night and instead has been sat in front of his computer.
"I made dinner," you comment as you reach his desk. He knows you’re there but chooses to pretend he first notice you. Once you're beside him, he dramatically rips his headphones off and slams his hands on the desk, making you jump.
"What, y/n? What could you possibly want right now?" he snaps at you and you bite down on your lip, feeling tears wanting to well up at the embarrassment he was making you feel for trying to take care of him. Your cheeks and neck burn with a deep blush.
Chan’s eyes are bloodshot and glassy. His face is flush and his hair is sticking up in every direction, an obvious sign that he has been running his fingers through it over and over again.
You were right, you should have turned around and left. But its too late now. You're already in the room and you're already getting yelled at so you might as well accept it, even if it does break your heart.
"I-I made you dinner," you stutter out and break eye contact with him, opting to look at the bowl in your hands instead. It is still steaming hot and the steam is hitting your nostrils, making your own stomach growl. You know this is one of Chan's favorites so hopefully it'll act as a peace offering.
"Oh my God. Get out! If I was hungry or if I wanted you in here, I would have called for you," he snaps at you again and pulls the headphones over his ears again, turning to face the computer screen.
You feel your face heat up more in a mix of anger and embarrassment before you slam the bowl down on the desk beside him. You try not to notice that the liquid sloshes out of the bowl slightly and lands on your hand, immediately burning you.
You turn on your heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you. By the time you reach the kitchen, angry tears are running down your face and your even angrier hands are trying to wipe them away.
Lee Know: Short tempered
You know Minho has a short temper. Everyone knows that, but it doesn't excuse him going off on you for absolutely no reason. You often are the object of his anger because you are together so much and you’re usually able to just brush his outbursts off.
However, sometimes you just can’t let them go.
"Hm?" You question, pulling your headphones off. You had seen your boyfriend talking to you but only caught the end of his sentence by the time you removed the headphones. He rolls his eyes at you, obviously annoyed.
"I hate repeating myself, y/n. You know this," he raises his eyebrows at you and you blink at him a few times, waiting for him to say whatever it was that he had said.
"I said," he starts, attitude dripping in his tone, "Do you want to go to that new restaurant for dinner tonight?" he asks and you nod.
"Yes of course. When do you wanna go?" you ask and stand up. For some reason, you miscalculated exactly how close you were to the table and your knee hits the table, knocking your glass of water over and making it roll off the table, shattering all over the floor.
"Are you kidding me? Why is it so hard for you to do simple tasks like listening and watching where you're going?" Minho snaps at you before walking towards the kitchen. You roll your eyes and opt to not reply.
You squat down to pick up the glass and somehow one of the shards cuts your finger, right where it meets your palm. You let out a hiss and drop the glass on the ground bringing your hand closer to inspect it.
The cut isn't too deep but it is in one of those spots that seems like it will never stop bleeding. You stand quickly as the blood drops from your hand and lands on your mess. As you walk towards the kitchen, you are dripping blood and don't notice.
"Did you seriously cut yourself?" Minho's tone is impatient with you again and you nod, walking towards the sink to rinse the cut out.
"Let me see it," he demands and you shake your head, letting the water run over the cut, another hiss leaving your mouth at the sting.
"Stop being so fucking stubborn," he grabs your wrist, a little too harshly, and yanks it from under the water to look at it, making you stumble into him slightly.
"Stop being so fucking mean," you reply and snatch your hand from his grip. He scoffs at you and rolls his eyes, slamming the towel that was in his hand down on the counter beside him.
"If I'm so fucking mean, then clean your own damn mess," he spits at you before leaving the room, his heavy footsteps indicating that he is making his way to your shared bedroom.
You let out a frustrated yell and grab the first aid kit from under the sink. All you did was ask him to repeat himself and drop a fucking glass and he's acting like this is the end of the world.
"Y/n! You got blood on the floor. You couldn't have at least stopped that from happening?" You hear Minho's voice again and you ignore him, not feeding into his temper anymore.
You hear his footsteps making their way towards the kitchen again and slam your hands down on the countertop, definitely making your cut bleed much more than it was before.
"You don't hear me talking to you?" He questions and you turn around facing him. A look of disgust and annoyance covers your face.
"Oh fuck off, Minho. Yell at somebody who gives a shit," You snap and push past him, letting your shoulder hit him a little too hard, and making your way to your bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind you.
Changbin: Arrogant
"Who was that?" You ask, setting your purse down as you enter you apartment. Changbin comes in behind you and helps you slide your coat off, placing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
"I met her a while ago at an award show," he replies and you nod, toeing off your shoes. You aren't one to get insecure or jealous, especially with the way your man is all over you, even in public.
But something about this girl just really rubbed you the wrong way. The way he unwrapped his arm from your waist to shake her hand made your stomach flip. Her lingering touches and flirty eyes, all while you were standing right there.
"She seemed a little touchy," you comment and Changbin shrugs, ultimately disregarding your comment.
"You only met her once?" You clarify again as you follow Changbin into the bedroom to change your clothes.
"Mhm, she used to have a thing for Hyunjin I think," he comments, loosening his tie and sliding it over your head. You let out a little 'ah' and pull your dress off, replacing it with a t-shirt and sleep shorts. You make your way into the bathroom and grab a makeup wipe, starting to remove your eye makeup.
"Why are you acting so weird? You aren't jealous, are you?" Changbin's voice sounds from the doorframe and you look over at him before looking back into the mirror, shrugging.
"It isn't that I'm jealous,” you clarify, “It's more like the principle of her overstepping obvious boundaries that you wouldn't push with someone who is in a relationship," you try to explain.
"It wasn't that serious," Changbin once again shrugs off your feelings and you turn to face him, crossing your arms across your chest.
"Are you even listening to me, Bin?" your voice is laced with frustration.
"Of course I am. You're jealous because some colleague was being too nice to me," he turns to walk away and you scoff. 
"Do you listen to anything but the sound of your own damn voice?" you suddenly snap at him and he freezes before turning back around to face you. He opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he can start.
"Whenever I tell you about my feelings or try to have a conversation like this with you, you just brush it off. I'm not jealous, Changbin. It's the principle of it all. And if I was jealous, you definitely aren't doing anything to help my insecurity," your temper has ran out and his eyebrows drop into a furrow, seemingly confused about your sudden outburst.
"I just don't understand why you are coming for me like this when I didn't do anything," he says, his own tone starting to reflect yours.
"What I'm trying to say is-"
"No I get what you're trying to say. I just don't understand why you're so mad at me," he tries to clarify and you turn back towards the sink.
"Then you obviosuly don't get what I'm-"
"Y/n you need to calm down," He interrupts you and you scoff, slamming your hands down on the sink.
"Stop fucking interrupting me! You are so fucking arrogant. Oh my God! You can't even actually listen to me for five fucking minutes without having to have your own input," you snap and he takes a step towards you so you're face to face in the bathroom.
"Sometimes you're wrong, Changbin. Whether you like it or not. Get your head out of your ass," you push past him and go towards the living room.
Hyunjin: Perfectionist
Hyunjin's most toxic trait is something that has been forced upon him in his career. He is convinced that everyone, especially the public has to think that he is perfect.
The perfect man, the perfect idol, the perfect boyfriend. This sometimes causes huge strains in your relationship because you can't tell what is real and what is a facade that he is putting on for the public eye.
You and Hyunjin are on a date and got into a small argument. It wasn't even an argument as much as you were just bickering with each other. He had picked this Italian restaurant and the portions were huge so you two decided it would he best to split a dish. However you couldn't decide and started to bicker back and forth between two dishes, trying to decide which to get.
"We can literally make that at home, Hyunjin. We should get something that we can only have in an authentic restaurant like this," you try to reason and Hyunjin rolls his eyes.
"You already decided on white wine, which doesn't go with the dish you want at all," he replies and you throw your hands up a little in frustration.
"Whatever, Hyunjin. Get what you want," you snap at him and before he can snap back at you, the waitress walks up to the table. He plasters a huge fake smile on his face and tells her the order, getting what he wanted and the white wine that you wanted.
"Now everyone is happy. Stop being a crybaby," he mumbles and you scoff, pulling out your phone. Your Twitter is getting notifications and you open the app.
Someone had taken a video of you and Hyunjin in the past ten minutes and posted it to Twitter. It already had over 1000 likes and you laugh at the video.
It showed Hyunjin saying something to you before you roll your eyes and fall back into your seat, crossing your arms. Then Hyunjin runs a hand through his hair, obviously annoyed.
"What's funny?" Hyunjin's voice pulls you from the video and you look up, turning your phone to face him. The smile on your face drops when you take in Hyunjin's face, obviously not amused with the video.
His jaw clenches and he clears his throat before turning in the direction that the video seemed to be taken from. The person recording was obviously long gone and he turns back to face you, a sigh leaving his mouth.
"What's wrong?" you ask, putting your phone away and resting your chin in your hand to look at your boyfriend.
"Nothing's wrong," he mumbles and you let out a small chuckle. You already know what's wrong. You reach for Hyunjin's hand across the table and he lets you grab it.
"Jinnie, relax. It's okay! There's nothing wrong with us disagreeing from time to time. It's natural and everyone likes seeing this real and raw side of you. You know that," you try to reason and he nods as the waitress approaches the table with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
The waitress pours your wine and neither you or your boyfriend say anything besides a small 'thank you' and even after she leaves, the silence between the two of you remain. You take a sip from your glass and look over to Hyunjin. He is zoned out, his finger tracing the rim of the glass and he's focused on something on the table.
"What's going on in that pretty little head of your's?" You finally break the silence and Hyunjin's eyes shoot up to meet yours immediately.
"That looks like we don't like each other," he mutters in a small voice, not much more than a whisper. You let out a sigh and adjust in your seat, uncrossing your legs and leaning towards your boyfriend. Before you can say anything, he's shaking his head at you.
"Stop it. Your body language is weird. Now we know someone is watching us, we need to act like we like each other," he speaks up, his eyes darting around the restaurant. You feel a little pang in your chest at his words and suck in a sharp breath.
"Act like we like each other?" You inquire, an eyebrow raised. He shoos you with his hand, still looking around the room.
"You know what I mean, y/n. Let's not start a scene. We have already caused one," he dismisses you and you scoff, taking the napkin from your lap and slamming it on the table.
"Whatever, Hyunjin. I'll give them something to spectate about," you spit at him and stand from the table. You grab your belongings and turn, making a beeline for the door. You barely hear Hyunjin calling in a whisper yell behind you before you reach the door and pull out your phone, ready to call a cab.
Han: Wandering eyes
Your first thought when you get to your house is to turn on the T.V. and see your stunning boyfriend at his award show. Your relationship was still under wraps so you weren't allowed to join him at his award show, at least not yet. You turn on the T.V. and realize you missed their red carpet so you take to Twitter to see what you missed.
Before you can even type his name into the search bar, you see that under trending is your boyfriend's name. He must have looked really good if he's trending away from his group. You click on the 'Han Jisung' hashtag and your heart immediately drops.
He wasn't trending because of how good he looks, he's trending because he was caught by a million cameras checking out another idol. Bile creeps its way into your throat and the tears spring to your eyes before you can even stop them.
This may seem like an overreaction to most, but this is not the first time that your boyfriend has been trending for his wandering eyes and flirty behavior. Just a week ago you two had gotten in a huge fight about how just because you're a secret, doesn't mean he needs to act single.
You thought that it got through to him but it obviously went in one ear and right out of the other. You lock your phone and frustratedly slam it down on the couch beside you. You let out a groan and let your head fall into your hands.
"Han fucking Jisung," you whisper out to yourself. You fall back against the couch and cross your arms over your chest before deciding to train your eyes on the ceiling. It only lasts about a minute until tears have started running down your face.
About two hours later, you hear the front door of your apartment open and you roll over in bed, not ready to explain to your boyfriend why your eyes are so puffy and red. He obviously didn't go to the after party so that gives you a little reassurance, but not much.
"Baby? Are you asleep?" you hear your boyfriend's voice and pull the blanket tighter around your chin before shaking your head. You hear him make his way over to the bed and he places a kiss to the side of your head. He smells like his shampoo and soap which means he either showered at the venue or went home before coming to see you.
"Did you watch the show?" he asks and you feel all of your emotions over the situation bubble to the surface. You let out a scoff.
"No, Jisung. I was too busy scrolling through your trending video from a million different angles," you reply coldly. He doesn't seem to pick up on your tone well and settles in the bed behind you.
"I'm trending?" there is pure excitement in his voice and you almost feel bad for him. Almost. You sit up straight in the bed and turn to face him. His bare face is illuminated by the faint glow of street lights outside your window and he really does look stunning. If you weren't so upset with him, you would surely be jumping his bones.
"Yeah. You're trending. Not for what you, your company, or your devoted girlfriend would like you to be trending for, however," you snap at him and grab your phone from the side table. You pull up his name under trending and toss your phone at him.
He flips it and you see him obviously scrolling through the tweets. His eyebrows are dropped in focus before they relax and a small smirk takes over his face, making your jaw drop.
"Does this make you happy, Jisung?" you question, hostility dripping from your tone. His eyes dart up to yours before they're back on the phone again. You glance over at your screen and see that he is watching a video of himself that is from an angle that you can see the exact asset he was assessing on the singer.
"You have got to be kidding me," you snarl at him and stand from the bed, ready to sleep in the living room.
"What? Can you blame me? She has a nice-"
"You have a girlfriend!" you interrupt him, your tone much more hostile than you intended and he's slightly taken aback.
"I know! I'm a guy. What do you expect?" his absurd defense just pisses you off more and you can't help clenching your jaw. He locks your phone and throws it onto the bed next to you.
"You are unbelievable." You spit before storming out of the room.
Felix: Belittling you/making you feel inferior
You sigh again. Your work computer has been acting up and you have done everything you can to try to make it work. You're trying your absolute best to not have to resort to calling your IT desk at work, but it seems to be your only option.
"That's one sigh too many. What's eating you?" you hear your boyfriend's voice behind you, giving you some comfort but frustration still racks your body.
"My computer is being dumb and I really don't want to have to call IT. I've tried everything I can think of and it still won't work!" you exclaim out, slamming your hands down on the desk. You feel his hands start to massage your shoulders and a gentle kiss is placed to your temple, obviously trying to calm you down.
"I just don't know what to do, Lix. On top of that, I have a report that I need to present on Friday!" you complain again and tilt your head back to look at Felix. He turns his attention from the computer screen down to you and presses a quick kiss to your lips.
"Do you want me to have a look at it?" He asks and you shake your head before sitting back up to look at the screen again.
"In all honesty, I just want to go to bed and not even think about this mess anymore," you confess and rest your head in the palm of your hand.
"Have you tried plugging it in?" Felix asks and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You were already frustrated and you don't want to be sent over the edge and snap at your boyfriend.
"Yes, Felix. I tried to plug it in," you reply but the exasperation in your voice is impossible to miss. You run your hand through the front of your hair and sit back up again, ready to try a few more things so you can work on your project.
"Have you tried restarting it?" It was meant to come out as a helpful question but you can't stop the scoff that leaves your mouth in response.
"I'm not an idiot, Felix," you snap at him but he doesn't say anything else for a few beats of silence.
"Did you put it to sleep or hard reset it? Do you know the difference?" he asks and you turn in your chair immediately to face him. Maybe it was the underlying belittling in his tone that sends you over the edge but you all but spit out your next response.
"Actually, Felix, I do know the difference and you are so not being helpful at all right now and in all honesty, you're pissing me the fuck off," you stare at your boyfriend, who is obviously taken aback by your outburst.
"How am I pissing you off?" he questions and you stand, letting out a humorless laugh. You turn and close your laptop before making your way over to your bed.
"You keep talking to me like I'm some kind of idiot. I'm not dumb, y'know? You always do this if you think you know more than me about a topic," you rant and he raises an eyebrow at you, still confused. You roll your eyes and slide under the blanket, turning your back to him.
"Whatever, Felix. Goodnight," you snap but it doesn't take long for you to feel the bed behind you dip from his weight.
"Don't go to sleep mad, angel," he reaches out to touch your shoulder but you shake his hand off. You turn to face him and regret fills your body at the face he is giving you. He looks like a guilty puppy and you let out a sigh. You lean over and press a quick kiss to his pouty lips before pulling back.
"I'm not mad. I'm just..." you pause, searching the ceiling for the right word, "Annoyed, frustrated, tired. I just want to go to sleep and we can talk in the morning. Sound good?" you try to reason and he nods but the sad puppy look is still plastered on his face.
Seungmin: Cruel
Seungmin loves you. So much. More than he has loved anyone else before. He knows it, you know it, his friends and family know it. However, sometimes he isn't as nice to you as he probably should be.
It isn't always what he is saying or his actions, as much as it's his tone. Today is one of Seungmin's more unkind days and you noticed it as soon as you woke up. He spent the night at your house last night so it was nice to see your boyfriend first thing in the morning.
He is always up before you and today was just like any other day. When you open your eyes, they're met with the chocolate ones of your adorable boyfriend. You hug him a little closer and he grumbles at you, his morning cranky still evident.
"Good morning," you whisper out, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw line. He mumbles back a quiet response and you try to pull him closer to you, wanting to savor the cuddle a bit more but Seungmin's body stiffens, pushing you away.
" 'S too hot," he groans and pushes you away completely, getting up from bed. You whine at him and he chuckles slightly, heading towards the bathroom. You get up and follow him, running your nails up his back.
"I love you," you speak out again, voice still raspy, before placing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. You want so badly to wrap your arms around his waist and relish in his warmth for a little longer but you refrain.
Seungmin glances at you through the mirror and you stare back, waiting for him to mirror the same words back to you. He puts his toothbrush in his mouth and a frown finds its way onto your lips. He notices and pulls his toothbrush from him mouth.
"Love you too," he shortly replies and it stings a little. Not only did he not say 'I' but the response was robotic, rehearsed. It felt like it was what he was supposed to say more than an expression of his feelings. It seemed like he didn’t even want to admit he loved you in all honesty.
Later that same day, you find him on the couch and plop down next to him. He glances over at you then back to the T.V. again so you scoot closer. He has been neglecting you all day and you finally found the perfect opportunity to cuddle up with your boyfriend.
You silently hoped that a good cuddle would make up for him hurting your feelings earlier and would offer you some much needed reassurance. You wrap your arm around your boyfriend's arm and place your cheek on his shoulder. You immediately feel him shift away from you and your heart drops.
"Do you have to sit so close to me? I don't feel like being touched right now," his evident irritation is enough to make tears want to spring to your eyes. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and cry out of embarrassment and the rejection of your boyfriend.
"You're being mean," you mumble out as you push away from him and settle onto the other side of the couch, turning your attention to the T.V. instead.
"How am I being mean? Maybe you're just being too sensitive," he shrugs before standing from the couch and grabbing his glass from the coffee table.
"Seungmin," you warn but he doesn't listen, instead walking into the kitchen to refill his glass. Your eyes burn with the tears that are begging to spill so you stand and decide to go take a shower to cry by yourself.
"Where are you going?" Seungmin's voice rings behind you and you feel the first tear fall so you decide its best not to turn around.
"Shower," you mumble out and continue walking towards your bathroom. You can't help the sniffle you let out as more tears fall and you quickly step into the bathroom and turn the shower water on as more tears fall from your eyes.
I.N: Gets distant
"How is Innie doing?" Your best friend asks over the phone and you bite down on your lip. She knows when you're lying and will call you out on it so you opt for a more neutral answer.
"Busy. How is your boyfriend?" you quickly try to change the topic but she is much smarter than you're giving her credit for and doesn't let you switch the conversation.
"He's doing it again, isn't he?" she questions, her voice full of sympathy and you can't stop the sigh that leaves your lips. Too ashamed to admit out loud that your boyfriend has went distant on you again, you just nod.
"Babe, you can't keep letting him do this to you! You need to put your foot down," she insists over the phone, obviously frustrated with your boyfriend's antics. It may seem like you aren't frustrated to everyone else, but that couldn't be further from the truth
You hate when Jeongin decides to disappear and not talk to you for days on end. You hate when he comes back and acts like nothing happened. You hate how defensive he gets when you call him out on it. You hate it.
You open your mouth to reply when you hear your lock code being punched into your door. You sit up on the couch as soon as the door opens, revealing a very tired looking Jeongin.
"Hold on. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? We spoke him up," you look at your best friend through the screen and she shakes her head muttering a quick 'love you, make good decisions' then ending the call. You look over at your boyfriend and he walks towards the couch, immediately crawling in between your legs and placing his head on your chest.
His arms wrap around your waist and you let out a sigh, laying back on the couch so your boyfriend can lay on you. You reach up and run a hand through his hair, getting a whiff of his shampoo.
"I missed you," he mutters against your chest and squeezes you a little tighter. You let out a breathy chuckle.
"And whose fault is that?" you reply quietly, still working your fingers through the tangles in his hair. He stiffens a bit on top of you then turns his head to rest his chin on your chest. You lock eyes and feel like you could melt into him.
"I've been busy," he tries to excuse but barely a beat passes before you reply.
"You could've told me," this is usually how these conversations go. You would let him reply at this point but your best friend's words are ringing through your ears, 'you need to put your foot down'. So you take a deep breath and speak again before he gets the chance.
"It's been a week, Jeongin. I haven't gotten a text, a call, a visit, nothing. It has been seven days. You do know you're my boyfriend, right?" you ask and his eyes drop for a second before meeting yours again.
"I said I've been busy," he repeats himself and you shake your head, sitting up and forcing him to sit up as well.
"I said you could've told me. How hard would it be to take 30 seconds from your busy schedule to send me a text and tell me you're busy or you miss or you love me or...anything at all!" you finish the sentence, throwing your hands in the air.
"Why are you being so demanding? You know distance makes the heart grow fonder," he tries to defend himself once again and you scoff. You stand from the couch, moving to the chair to try to create space between the two of you.
"Don't try this bullshit with me, Yang Jeongin. If you don't want to be together anymore then let me know now. Don't disappear on me and claim you need space. We're adults. Act like it," you point an accusatory finger at him and he stands, now towering over your seated figure.
"Why are you trying to force me to break up with you? Do you not want to be together anymore?" he flips the question on you, anger in his voice. You open your mouth to answer but honestly, you don't even know the answer. So you tell him just that.
"Honestly, Innie, I don't even know anymore," you whisper out, looking down at your hands. You're picking at your fingers as silence falls on the room. Then before you know it, Jeongin's knees buckle and he's on his knees in front of you, his face in his hands and his body shaking with the violence of his sobs.
"I-I," he tries to speak but you stop him, dropping to your knees as well and pressing your forehead to his. You let your eyes fall closed as his tears soak your hands. Before you know it, tears are leaving your eyes as well.
"I don't want to break up," he whispers out and your eyes open to find his already trained on yours. You let silence fall between you two for a minute, just looking into each others eyes before you let out a sigh.
"I think you should leave," you finally speak up, breaking the silence.
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weird-is-life · 7 months
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Okay so, how about reader and Spencer Reid doing smth where they need to exchange kisses now and then. Reader has a crush on Spencer and can’t keep kissing him. It becomes too much for them. So one day reader tells him smth along the lines of him needing to stop kissing her like he means it. Bcuz she’s going to read into things wrongly and end up breaking her own heart” and Spencer answers with smth along the lines of “that’s b’cus I do mean it. Every single time. Ur just too dense to see it.”
But u write it like u want. I wanna give u creative freedom. It was just a thought. And if u don‘t wanna write it, that’s okay too. I hope u have a nice day :)
Ty for the request, lovely🥰! Hopefully, this is okay. Warnings: pet names, little angsty, fluff, mentions of kisses ofc, (0.5k)
Spencer keeps kissing you, well you keep kissing each other and it honestly drives you a little mad. Not because you don't enjoy it, you do, a lot actually, but because you don't know what the kisses mean.
They leave you so confused, you don't know what to think of them. Especially when Spencer kisses you so lovingly every single time. His kisses leave you breathless and confused at the same time.
So right now, as he leans in to kiss you again, being at your place to watch a movie, you turn your head away from his. You almost wince, when you notice Spencer's baffled and definitely a little hurt expression.
"What's wrong?" he immediately asks, worried, that he's done something wrong.
"I-I...it's just...," you try to find the right words, but you don't know how to tell it to him. You look down at your fiddling hands, just so you don't have to look at his worried, puppy eyes.
"It's okay, if you don't want me kissing you, I won't do anything, you don't want me to, I'm sorry, if I made you uncomfortable," he carefully takes one of your hands in his as he apologises.
"No, I do want to!" you say maybe a little too quickly, the embarrassment of it makes your cheeks go red.
"Yeah?" Spencer grins at you, not cheekily tho, softly as always.
You bury your hot face into your hands.
"What is it, huh? You can tell me anything, you know that right?" Spencer doesn't really understand what's going on. He's thought, you liked him, like he does you.
You take a few big breaths and then you slowly put your arms away from your face.
"It's just...I need you to stop kissing me, Spencer," you blurt out and it comes out differently than you intended it to be. Spencer looks stunned.
You try again, " I need you to stop kissing me Spence, 'cause I'm afraid, I'm reading into things wrong and I'm worried, that I'll just break my own heart by doing so."
Spencer is sure, that his relief could be seen from miles away. He was waiting for the worst possible rejection from you, but he definitely wasn't expecting this.
You look at Spencer's face, only to find him looking right back at you with the biggest happy smile ever.
"You're such an idiot, if you think, that you're readings into things wrong," Spencer starts, " because I like you. I wouldn't be kissing you, if I didn't mean it, sweetheart."
It takes you a few seconds to process, what you've just heard, but when you finally do, your whole face lights up. Spencer likes you back? This isn't a dream?
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. But I thought, you knew that already," he chuckles at your cluelessness, he really did think, that you knew.
"I don't know, what I thought," you say sheepishly.
Spencer doesn't think, he can survive looking at your cute, shy expression with the rosy cheeks any longer, so he just leans in to kiss you.
Of course, he gives you a moment to push him away, in case you still don't want him kissing you, but you don't do anything like that. Instead you are the one to finally connect your lips with his. Not afraid to show him how much you like him, too.
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kookslastbutton · 1 year
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Love's Remedy, On Fire ༓ jjk (m) l ch. I
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✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.
Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader
AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 3,027
Warnings: jk is very cute and determined, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), oc is not mean here but she teases jk, feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!
Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+
A/N: um ok I swear this was supposed to be a pwp crack fic about jk wanting to get laid with a hat on. This turned into a very angsty but fluffy series and I'm sorry 😬 lmk what you think and tysm for reading! 💞 I know title is sucky
ch. lI >> | series masterlist
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Over the entirety of his nineteen years, Jungkook was pushed to prepare for one thing—college entrance exams.
It was a huge deal and getting into one of the leading universities in South Korea was a must for him. You see, the Jeons were nobody to laugh at with the bulk of them being high-ranking medical doctors, engineers, and lawyers. Continuing this legacy, therefore, was far from a choice, Jungkook had to follow suit.
When the results of the exams came back Jungkook passed with flying colors. It wasn't a surprise though since he spent all his time studying his ass off until the dawn. Jungkook indeed got accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in Seoul and his parents, teachers, and friends were quick to give their congratulations. He felt good too...no, he felt damn good.
Now he was here he was, standing in the middle of campus with his bag slung over one shoulder and a few orientation papers in his hand. It was still the first week of classes and he desperately needed to get to the science building. (He had chosen to follow his father's footsteps and go into biochem).
"Excuse me," he asks with nervous eyes and a wobbling lip. "Do you happen to know where the science building is? I'm late for class but I can't seem to find it."
The student he walks up to for directions looks about his age. He isn't sure if she's in her first year like him but she looks competent with the way she's standing, feet spread apart and a hand on her hip. The skirt she's sporting is incredibly short but the top is full length. She's smacking on hot pink gum as well, popping bubbles every now and then.
"Keep walking straight until you see the statue of President Kim, then take a right. The science building will be right there." You hardly spare him a glance but you make the mental note that he's cute with his fluffy black hair and big lost eyes. You consider asking his name but you shrug the feeling. He was cute yes, but he was too cute which isn't your type.
Jungkook gives a small thank you and walks off. Your directions are vague, but hopefully finding the statue will help him. After a few steps, he looks over his shoulder to see you laughing with your friend.
You have a gorgeous smile.
Probably the last time he'll see you though, he thinks. Jungkook isn't sure how he'd be with a woman given the fact he's never been with one. Surely he'd do better than half the dumbasses out there but guys like him don't stand a chance with a woman like you.
You look like you go for the experienced type and that wasn't him. He goes back to what he was doing, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
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"Hey man, what's your name?" A young guy with bleached blonde hair slides into the seat next to him. Apparently, he wasn't the only one late. "I'm Jackson." The man goes in for a fist bump but stops when it's very obvious it won't be reciprocated.
"I'm Jungkook," he says, more concentrated on what his professor is saying than anything else. Jackson continues talking, however, despite his focused state.
"So, I'm assuming this is your first year?" Jungkook nods. "Me too. Where you from?"
"Busan."
"Cool cool, I'm from Hong Kong." Hearing this makes Jungkook shift his eyes over immediately. The last thing he expected was to meet someone from China. Was this Jackson dude just pulling his leg or was he being serious? Nevertheless, it intrigues him.
"I'm an exchange student." Jackson clarifies. "Always wanted to see what South Korea was like and I know Seoul's got a pretty thriving economy so..." He shrugs. "Figured I'd give it a go and my parents support it. As long as I stay on my doctor's track of course."
Well damn. A doctor was not what Jungkook assumed a guy like Jackson would be going for. This was a prestigious school but it's still a gen ed class they're in right now. Anyone from most majors could be taking it. If he had to guess, Jackson would be a businessman.
"Well enough about me though," Jackson quips. "What do you study?"
"Biochem. My dad works as a physician and my mom's a chemical engineer. I'm going for pharmacology."
"Shit bro," Jackson cusses freely. Jungkook doesn't mean to jump in response but he does. Being all formal talk at home, it's unventured territory. "You guys must be a family of geniuses. Wait...what's your last name?"
"Jeon?"
Jackson nearly falls back in his chair when he hears the name fall from Jungkook's lips. He covers his mouth with both hands to keep himself under wraps. "Are you serious? You're from the Jeon family? Fuck, man, I've been hearing about your family since I was a kid that's how influential your family has been in the medical industry."
Jungkook finds himself intertwining his hands. His family is well-established in what they do but it never occurred to him that they were that well-known. Sure his dad's been featured in a couple of magazines for his work and his mom's been given several awards for her research. But he didn't think they'd gone that publicly beyond their own town.
"Oh shit I'm sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable talking about this? Promise you I'm not a creep or anything!" The urgency in Jackson's tone stirs up the classroom, peers looking over at the two of them in annoyance.
"Do you mind shutting up?" A chestnut-haired boy is the first to speak up. He looks thoroughly pissed, to say the least with his cat-like eyes narrowing at the both of them. "Some of us actually want to graduate here."
"Chill out man. We're sorry." Jackson gives Jungkook a small tight-lipped smile. "We'll talk later."
"We will?"
Jackson gives him a slap on the back. "Yeah it's a given. You and I," he gestures between the two of them. "We should stick together. Being that we're both new around here and we both studying med. Also, was going to wait to tell you but I wanna go to this awesome party that goes on that kicks off the year. You'd think I'd be confident to go by myself but if you're free, I could use a buddy."
A party. Some blonde-haired boy who could very likely become the center of attention wants him, Jeon Jungkook, to go to a party? Jungkook spends most of his time playing video games, studying chem tables, and watching p—well he shouldn't say that part out loud.
"If you don't want to then I get it." Jackson scratches his head. "I don't wanna pressure you or anything. We did just meet and I just thought you looked cool so...."
"Okay." Jungkook accepts before giving it much thought. Besides studying, he was told college was a time to also let loose and have fun. Freedom and all that. That's what his friends back home told him at least. They also mentioned getting laid but...who would give him that fat chance?
If anything, maybe he'll get a friend by going to this little party. Jungkook shoots a small smile in return.
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"Okay listen," Jackson says, opening the door to his black Lexus. "I heard this party gets crazy so just be smart and don't get into too much punch."
Jungkook hops in the passenger seat. "But I love punch." He straps his seatbelt in, totally unaware of the punch Jackson"s referring to.
"It's spiked Kook. And I'm guessing your alcohol tolerance is pretty low?" Jackson twists the key and pulls out of the campus parking lot. He doesn't mean to be insulting or anything but his new buddy doesn't look like the party-hardy kinda guy.
In fact, Jungkook decided to....well, wear a hat to this gig. It's not a baseball cap, beanie, or even a greasy cowboy hat.
It's a sunhat. Black at least.
"By the way Jungkook. I don't wanna sound like a dick or anything but can you explain the thing on your head? Because the rest of you looks great, black dress shirt and jeans."
"Oh um." Jungkook rubs his hands on his thighs. He's embarrassed to tell Jackson the truth but he's his buddy now, right? Maybe this can be a bonding thing for them. "I thought it was cute? I mean I wanna...ah." Jungkook lets out a nervous chuckle.
"What is it, man? I promise I won't judge."
"I wanna," he starts again. "Uhm you see I heard that if you wear something out of the ordinary that people will like you more or something. Like they'll be interested..."
"Mhm, cute and out of the ordinary things huh? What kind of people are you trying to impress Jungkook?" Jackson gives a knowing smirk. Who knew his buddy schemes these kinds of stuff.
Jungkook speeds through the answer. "Grs."
"Say it properly and slower."
"Wanna get a girl....woman! I mean...a woman." Jungkook sheepishly grins at Jackson. Please don't laugh at me, he begs silently.
"You dog!" Jackson pushes Jungkook's shoulder. "My little buddy is a man, well well well. So are you looking for a girlfriend or something else?"
"Wife!" Jungkook bugs out his eyes, no hesitation at all. Jackson struggles not to give even the slightest snort. Didn't Jungkook know what kind of party this is?
"That's very sweet but this isn't the place you're going to find a wife, Jungkook. That's more like if we were going to a speed dating thing....this, this is a frat party, little bro."
Jackson pulls up to the front of the giant, lit-up house. They could hear electronic music blasting outside and all over the lawn were shirtless guys and scantily-dressed women. Some were off making out while others were drinking in groups.
Jungkook tenses at the sight. He used to fancy black tie parties where everyone is dressed to the hill and drinking is moderate. Jackson is right, he is not finding a wife here. Dammit. But he really doesn't want to give up his hat.
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"Yo Jackson," a guy with pitch-black hair greets the man with a fist bump. So that's how it's done, Jungkook observes. "Glad you could make it!"
"Jae-beom, what's good man?! I wouldn't miss this party for the world. I brought a friend." He ushers Jungkook to come forward. "This is Jungkook. He's in my class."
"Nice to meet you Jungkook!" Jae-beom moves in for a fist bump which ends up making contact with Jungkook's fist. It's not as sharp as with Jackson but it's a fist bump. "I used to work with Jackson over the summer. Always stealing my tips this man!"
"Hey, I did not do that!" Jackson gives a hearty laugh and shoves Jae-beom hard enough for him to lose his balance a little. "You kept leaving for a smoke. I had to wait your tables half the time!"
"I wasn't going for a smoke Jack—woah hey baby. What's your name?" The man shifts his focus to the girl walking past them. She has bright red lipstick, a black crop top, and jean shorts.
"Fuck off." She snaps before looking at Jungkook. "Cute hat by the way."
Everyone looks at Jungkook at that moment who's motionless. They hope to god he says something back but he only stares. The girl smirks at him and quirks her head to the side. "What's your name? I gotta friend who'd be all over you in a heartbeat, though she'd never admit it."
Jackson throws a mouth over his hand, eyes wide in amusement. This girl did not just propose Jungkook, his buddy who's looking for a wife, to get off with her friend.
"Um...yeah no. No, it's okay but thanks." Jungkook can barely sound the words. This girl in front of him was really, really hot but intimidating. "Yes thank you but I'm looking for a..."
"Don't-" Jackson lunges forward.
"Wife." Jungkook smiles at the girl a little too angelically. "I'm Jungkook though. What's your name?"
The girl bites her lip. "Well, it's too bad then Jungkook. Because you're so fucking cute and I know you'd like each other. Why don't you meet her? Even if it's just to say hi?"
Jungkook looks at Jackson who only shrugs. "Up to you man."
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Jungkook makes his way through the heavy crowd. He bumps into a few people on the way but thankfully he's able to still see the girl, apparently who goes by Crystal.
Jungkook isn't convinced it's her real name but if that's what she wants to be called who is he to dispute?
Once they get to the other side of the room, Jungkook spots a woman with a tight black dress on. It falls mid-thigh and has laced-up sides. When they near the woman Jungkook feels himself sweating bullets.
"__!" Crystal taps on your shoulder. "I brought you, someone, to meet. This is Jungkook!"
You turn around, drink in hand. You look fucking stunning. Jungkook can't believe it's you. He's seeing you again and he wishes he didn't wear this damn hat now! He goes to yank it off but Crystal stops him.
"Hey, the hat's cute. Keep it on!"
"I-but," he looks at you. "But it's making me hot." You're making me hot.
You give a shrug. "Do what you want Jungkook. It's your head at stake." You take a sip of your drink. You really did not expect to see the shy guy from this morning be at a frat party. "Good to see you again."
"Oh, you know each other?"
"We had a slight run in this morning. Baby had to get to the science building." You take a scan at what he's wearing. Black shirt that cuts at the elbows, denim jeans, and sneakers. Not bad compared to the sweater he was wearing this morning.
"I'm—I'm not a baby." Jungkook can't stop himself from feeling offended. Whether you meant it to be condescending or not, he doesn't want to be seen as a baby! Especially not to you. "I'm a man, okay? I go to the gym and stuff."
"Okay I'm sorry," you say. "I just call everyone baby. I didn't mean anything."
That doesn't seem to relax Jungkook. "I can lift a fuck ton of weights too." He stops once he hears himself cuss out loud. Usually, he does that in his head....goddamn it.
"Mmm," you step towards him, careful not to touch him. Usually by now you'd already be in the bathroom getting railed by some punk but not tonight. Jungkook has your attention. "Can you now? I'm not sure if I believe you. You're kind of a twig, not to be rude or anything."
Jungkook's face turns to a darker shade, eyes piercing into yours. "I can show you I'm not lying."
"Go ahead, do what you will." You fake a yawn until you find yourself suddenly in his arms. They're a lot stronger and more muscular than you thought. "Jungkook! Put me down!"
Everyone at the party starts staring over, giggling at each other. Jungkook gives a satisfied grin. "I have you in my arms, what are you gonna do now? Not believe me again?"
"I-" You're certain your face glowing with embarrassment. "Um no, I believe you Jungkook. Please, set me down."
"Not til you say it --." He challenges-brat. "Say I'm not a baby."
"Jungkook I told you I call everyone baby. It wasn't-okay you're not a baby. Obviously, you lift a lot now please put me down."
Finally, he does what you ask, a proud face on. His hat is a little crooked so you reach out and fix it. It's a reflexive response, you don't even know what you're doing let alone Jungkook.
"Oh, sorry your hat was just-"
"Please go out with me. On a date I mean?" He's so terribly timid but he can't help himself now. He had you in his arms and you're just so beautiful and charming. He needs to know more about you. It's a must.
"Well, I-" Everyone waits for your answer, very nosy clearly. You look at Jungkook with his big eyes and pouty lips. You don't wanna say no but relationships aren't your thing. And it seems that is defiantly all he's in for.
Jungkook's shoulders sulk. He isn't expecting a yes but he was hoping that maybe you'd give him a tiny chance.
"Come on __," Crystal whispers. "Look at him. Don't you think he's cute? Like really cute?"
You look at your best friend with weary eyes. He's so cute but, there's that but. That relationship but. He's going to be the type to want to do all the couple things and snuggle and everything. Jungkook needs someone who is willing to do all the stuff and you? You're not good at any of it.
"I'm sorry Jungkook," you start. "I don't know if-"
"One date __. If it's a no I won't bother you again. I just....I just think you're really gorgeous and I wanna get to know you. That's all." He takes the hat off his head, letting his fluffy hair run free. You kinda wanna touch it if it didn't makes things weird.
His words, however, make your heart thump the tiniest amount. The only time you've ever been called gorgeous is when guys try to get in your bed. It's all you've known other than maybe from a relative. Gorgeous is used pretty regularly, you know that, but this time it's used in an entirely different context.
"I'll tell you what," he says, pulling out his phone. "I'll give you my number and if you change your mind text me or call. I won't bug you and you can delete it right after this if you want, I promise."
You end up taking his number and Jungkook leaves to go back to his buddies. "You should go out with him __," Crystal says.
"I don't know." You watch him stride away. "I'll think about it."
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A/N: what am i doing? Idk im running away now bye! lmk what you think and tysm for reading! Comment/ask to be on taglist 💞
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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zepskies · 1 month
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What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️
Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓
But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?
For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.
While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.
I'm still here for two very important reasons:
I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.
I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖
Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...
And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:
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(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)
That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:
If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)
If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.
If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...
Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.
But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.
Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.
They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.
Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.
Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.
Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.
Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.
For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.
If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).
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Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:
(In no particular order)
@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof
@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings
@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords
@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze
@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋
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majorlysapphic · 1 month
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I have a lot of time to kill and noticed that the bridgella shippers deserve some attention, so it's time for my train travelling brain splurge (it will be angsty, I'm warning you now). :)
(TW: mentions of living in a heteronormative society/homophobia/internalised homophobia).
(Glassheart will be mentioned in the end because I want to do a part 2 of this post).
Now, I'm presenting an 80's Celebrity/Performer AU!
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Now, I imagine both of the girls got into performing in very different ways.
Bridget came from a very privileged background where she was able to be put in various music/acting/dance lessons at a young age. I'd imagine she started her trajectory into stardom very young, starting with modelling and acting before shifting into music (though I'd assume she'd still have a cover/runway girl reputation which she revisits here and there). Bridget would have started off as a 'girl next door' archetype, but once settling into her music career, she would soon settle into an untouchable, bubbly pop princess persona. An IT girl with a stage name of "The Queen of Hearts."
For Ella, I imagine one of the only belongings that she has from her late mother is a guitar, so she's always made a small effort to learn, though that effort increased exponentially once her dad passed and she was left to live with her step family. On her eighteenth birthday, she's not legally required to be her step-mothers 'problem' anymore, so with her few belongings and her treasured guitar, Ella begins her journey to be a performer. She works her way up to the top with a ferocious determination, going from busking on the streets during day and waiting tables at night to meet ends meet, to performing as Auradon’s break out 'riot grrrl' by doing random gigs and opening acts. And when she finally gets a label to fund her first proper album, she's asked if she'd like to take on a stage name. Then is when she decides to title herself as 'Cinderella' for a final middle finger to the family that rejected her (by making a horrid nickname given to her turn into a marker of her success).
Both Ella and Bridget carry on their own careers aware of each others existence. But they only properly meet once their music labels want them to collaborate on a few songs for their latest albums they're working on.
And since Ella's manager believes she should reach out to a bigger audience and create a more positive public image for herself (after a few disaster interviews), Ella agrees. And when it comes to Bridget's PR team, they're trying to make her shake off her untouchable status, given that it has some negative repercussions (as there's a decent chunk of people out there with the view that Bridget is 'too fake' and that she 'probably let all that fame get to her head'). So Bridget ends up agreeing to the collaboration.
They meet at a recording studio, and their meeting isn't exactly ideal. Bridget is her typical self: bright, bubbly, friendly. But Ella doesn't know that's what Bridget is actually like. She thinks she's just meeting Bridget's celebrity persona that won't be shaken off, and she hates it. So after a few minutes of (attempted) polite conversation, it gets awkward and silent between the two. The vibe doesn't seem to get better when they're trying to write new lyrics and compose together, Bridget and Ella mix as well as oil and water does, and everyone in the studio can see it. So after a failure of a music making month, both their managers put a pause on their albums in order to run a PR plan.
Ella and Bridget are tasked with going completely public with their 'friendship' prior to announcing their collaboration. And hopefully, if the prayers of their managers are answered, they'll finally warm up to each other (which is necessity for future interviews).
They begin with a magazine cover together which creates a whole wave of surprise with both their fanbases (who are as opposite as opposites can be), and from there it's hangouts across A-list places (photographed/filmed by strategically placed paparazzi). And before they know it, Ella and Bridget have made headlines as Auradon's most surprisingly iconic best friends.
Though what's more surprising is that after all this, they are still awkward with each other. Sure, they may be a bit more comfortable, but the improvement is inadequate to what was expected of them. But oh well, what are their managers supposed to do about it? They're going to have to shrug it off and carry on making their albums with forced smiles.
But then, when they're finally left alone in a recording studio is when their bond flourishes. Because, wow, Ella is finally making sense of the fact that the Bridget she met on her first day at the studio was actually the real Bridget. And Bridget is starting to appreciate the complexity of Ella's character, and putting together the puzzle pieces to find out Ella is a really genuine person. A specific type of person that is far and few in Auradon's celebrity scene. The type of person she wants as a friend.
So, they finally ditch the picture perfect scenes they were set up to be in and spend their time together after recording just getting to know each other. As Bridget and Ella instead of The Queen of Hearts and Cinderella. They spend lazy nights in watching bad films, they go out to underground parties, they find a favourite ice cream parlour which they go to every Friday.
They're finally friends. And once their respective albums release, featuring each other (in more songs that was ever expected), they're soaring from the success of the careers.
The next few years are spent in the middle of the spot light. Ella has a much wider fanbase as she appears much more approachable (with the help of Bridget practising interviews with her) and Bridget remains a number one star, helped by the fact people have started to properly relate to her now that she (with the encouragement of Ella) is happy to show some of her more imperfect sides that adds some edge to her pop princess persona.
It's glitz and glam. It's red carpet looks. It's having their posters plastered in every corner. It's living together to set the ideal standard of how life can get if you stick to your closest friends and work hard.
...It's secrets and unspoken truths.
Because after all this time, they're best friends. Of course they are. But throughout the years, there are moments which could indicate different.
They don't talk about it. They really shouldn't. It's always the wrong place. The wrong time. What they have is inherently 'wrong'.
But... Too much is too much, and they have to talk about it. Because Bridget can't stand the multiple occasion's when they're in the safety of their own home, with their lips just about brushing, only for Ella to cast a look of doubt and pull away, pretending nothing happened. Because Ella feels like her heart is being ripped out whenever Bridget is back with her on-again-off-again PR boyfriend, only for Bridget to tearfully confess that nothing feels right when she's with him compared to when she's with Ella (and Ella has to grit her teeth every time, because Bridget's 'boyfriend' is the bassist to a wildly popular punk group, 'Uliana's Crew', and she knows that in the publics eyes, she can't match the debonair charm of James Hook. Even if she can be a better partner to Bridget in so many ways).
Neither of them can stomach another night after award shows, dressed to the nines and drunk on disgustingly expensive champagne, trading touches that are too intimate for 'just friends' and whispering in each others ears in the corner of a room. They can no longer ignore the curious looks they get from the people closest to them when they both release album after album, the songs within so obviously being able to be seen as romantic so long as the listener knows the right context the lyrics are referring to. So long as the listener starts swapping 'he' to 'she' in their head during the song.
The confrontation is full of tears and anguish. Both of them know what they feel but neither fully express it.
Bridget, whilst being privileged in many aspects, comes from background where anything out of the norm is unacceptable (she knows, but never says, that the reason she was supported in her career by her family is due to the fact that they thought it was a passing interest. Something that would leave, but once she took off into stardom, it was too late to take things back). She's been put on a pedestal all her life, and what could other's think (her fans, who she lives and breathes and performs for) if she finally speaks up on the fact that she's never been interested in boys. Even thinking of the fact makes her nauseous, because after so long listening to others, she also feels its wrong, even though it feels the exact opposite.
It kills her inside to know that Auradon would be raving about how much they adore the match between a conventional pop princess and a jaded/edgy artist, so long as said artist was a boy.
And when it comes to Ella. She has built her entire livelihood off of her music. It's the one thing that's kept her going in her roughest moments - she has no clue what meaning she'd find in life if she lost it. Because whilst her fans are more accepting (hell, a large percentage are part of the LGBTQ+ community themselves), she knows that other people won't be. That they'd pull her limb from limb and strip her of her career which she gave everything in her for, as an act for revenge for 'spoiling' the 'perfect' image of Bridget they had in their narrow-minded heads. She hates it. She hates The Queen of Hearts. And she loves Bridget.
In conclusion: Bridget would be okay with being in love with Ella if Ella wasn't a girl, and Ella would be okay with being in love with a girl, if the girl wasn't Bridget.
So, they agree to be friends. Carry on as if the talk never happened. They know their limits with each other (even if they are constantly breaking them). And yes, there are slip ups.
Said slip ups act as the highlight of their lives. Said slip ups will cause their downfall: because on a singular occasion, a picture is taken (it's contents: Ella and Bridget sneaking out of a rehearsal studio late at night, hands interlocked, hair messy, lipstick smudged).
The picture goes viral. Passed around. Talked about. Theorised. Concluded on.
Both Bridget and Ella are sent into a panic. What do they do? It's the early stages of their situation being revealed (and they're already seeing hateful responses), and both silently loathe it. The cherry on top? It's not even based in fact, because neither have allowed themselves to even have each other in anyway that they want. Their appearances that night were purely from a hectic rehearsal.
Their PR teams jump to salvage what they can. And when Ella meets Bridget's fearful eyes, they both know it's the end of them. In the following months, they move into their own separate homes and their contact is fleeting. Eventually, the rumours and hate turn into whispers.
But they will never recover.
They'll never be alone in the same room together, ever again.
In the same year of this scandal, a large announcement of Bridget Hearts and James Hook's engagement will ring through all media outlets. The perfect pair: a sweet pop princess (that has been cherished by the kingdoms since her debut into performance as a child) and Auradon's resident, suave 'bad boy' ready to settle down. They're picture perfect. Ella feels sick (so does Bridget), and she makes sure to cross out a firm rejection on her invite to the wedding.
And Ella forces herself to move on. She finds a calm yet fun actor, Christopher Charming. She decides to try love him. She can love him. She does love him in her own way. It's not as bright and golden as her love is was for Bridget, but it's quiet and safe. And he understands her and keeps all her secrets, and that's all she can ever ask for.
Years go on and they live finding other joys to go off of. Life is hard but not impossible without each other, and they try to be happy for one another. Bridget sends a bouquet of flowers to congratulate Ella's marriage to Charming (as a way to say she's happy for her, because Bridget really really wants Ella happy... And as a way to apologise for the fact she can't be there to attend the ceremony). Ella sends presents for Bridget's final show (Bridget's much too tired to perform for another tour, and if she gave any more of herself to The Queen of Hearts, all she'd be left with is bones) where Bridget announces she will be starting 'Wonderland Records', a music label aiming to help artists from unfortunate backgrounds succeed. Bridget gives a supportive smile from across the room when Ella announces she'll be retiring at her final albums award ceremony.
They go on with life, and after both have stepped away from the spot light, they don't expect to ever encounter one another properly anymore.
And that holds true... Until you put their daughters into the scene. Because despite their warnings, both Red and Chloe have followed in their footsteps to become Auradon's newest stars.
With new trends coming around and an increasing demand to see artists perform everywhere, Red and Chloe often encounter each other, especially at music festivals. And they despise each other (even if they're a fan of each others music). But you know what people say. There's a thin line between love and hate (and that history tends to repeat itself).
The next thing Ella and Bridget know, they're witnessing their daughters slowly fall in love. Unashamedly. In front of the whole world to see.
And this time, it ends well.
And when attending a final festival for the summer to support their daughters, they watch as Red plays a song dedicated to Chloe. They watch as a lovesick Chloe hops onto stage, and kisses a flustered Red in front of thousands of people and camera's. They hear people cheer in support.
Because a queer love story is just as natural as any other. It was a long, long wait for society to be like this. But it finally is. And it is perfect for their daughters, who were born at the right time for their type of love which they show off so loudly and proudly.
Ella and Bridget meet each others eyes from the wings of the stage, waiting for their daughters to meet them on either side. And they give a friendly smile. Because whilst they couldn't give each other what they wanted, they're more than happy to give the world to their daughters.
They'll continue to be friendly to each other, and eventually become casual friends, but never anything more. Not in this lifetime.
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Wow that was fun to write!! Hope you enjoyed reading this!! Phoebe Bridgers 'Moon Song' set the perfect tone for me to write this post, haha. <3333
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kurokens · 3 months
Text
I'll Be There | Satosugu
anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen
character: gojo satoru & geto suguru
words: 2.6k
pronouns: they/them
request: none
notes: part 4 of In The Middle is here!! might be the longest part of this series, and of my entire blog tbf. i think i like it quite a lot, didn't know where i was going at first but i think it turned out great!! hopefully you will enjoy it. ofc this isn't the end hehe dw
not proof read
song rec: I'll Be There - Zitten
genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?
warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader, satoru is quite eloquent
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It's been two weeks already, two excruating weeks of you not talking to the two men you once called your best friends. Your mutual friends tried telling you that you should give them a chance to explain themselves, that this was just a big misunderstanding. But they didn't understand, how hurt you were, and how painful it was for you. Of course, you wanted nothing more than to run back to them and forget about all of this but how could you? The people you trusted the most were talking behind your back, and it didn't seem like it was in a good way, and no misunderstanding could ever explain what you heard and erase the betrayal you felt. You were convinced of this, and you thought getting out of their life for good was the best option for all of you, no matter what anyone else said.
Or so you thought, because here you were, standing in front what used to be your home, a shaky hand raised to knock on a door you would usually unlock yourself. Your timid knocks echoed throughout the house and for a moment you felt a wave of doubt overwhelm you. What if you were making a mistake? What if they moved on? I mean after all Satoru's messages stopped flooding your phone after a while. Maybe you should just turn back and leave things as they were, because that's how things were meant to be, the two of them together, without you invading their personal space. But just as you were about to walk away Suguru's voice was heard, and your entire body froze, unable to take another step or make another move.
"No Toru, I doubt it's someone delivering us free pizza. Can you be serious for on-" The dark-haired man was not able to finish his sentence upon opening the door and seeing you standing in front of him.
The silence between you two was loud, way too loud for you, and yet you couldn't get yourself to open your mouth to say a word, just anything would do, and yet not even a breath could cross your lips.
"What's taking you so long? Fell in love with the delivery person or what?" Satoru joked, making his way towards the entrance, his mind and body going numb when he finally noticed what had his lover frozen in place.
"I," You started, trying your best to rack your brain in order to break this silence, to explain why you were there, to stop looking like an imbecile. And yet you couldn't, their eyes fixated on you paralised you and shook you to your core. "T'was a mistake, sorry for bothering, I'll just go." Was what you ended up letting out, the awkward silence and the stares getting to your head, making you doubt your decision to come here in the first place.
But before you could even take a step away you were pulled back onto something hard, rather warm, and shaking quite uncontrollably, which was crushing all of your bones. You try wiggling your way out, freeing your head from the strong grasp, that's then you heard sniffling and realised what was happening. Satoru was the one who stopped you from leaving, and was currently suffocating you in what was possibly the tightest hug you've ever received. He was full on sobbing, his head in the crook of your neck, trying his best to catch his breath but crying harder every time he caught a whiff of your scent. You were awkwardly standing there, not really knowing what to do with this sudden show of affection and outburst. But as if it was almost a second nature, and before your brain could stop you, you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him back, which only caused Satoru to cry harder into you.
"Satoru, I think you should let go of them." Suguru tried getting the white-haired man off of you, which broke something in you and brought you back to reality and why you were here now.
"M'not gonna, m'never letting them go ever again, never, never" The youngest whined, tightening his embrace each time as if to prove his point.
"You're not the one who can decide this Toru. And you don't even know why they came in the first place." The raven-haired man reasoned, a hint of sadness at the thought of what made you come back here, scared it was to get the rest of your stuff to move out completely. "Why don't we let them in, and hear them out hm? Think you can do that?"
Reluctantly Satoru let go of you, only to bury his face into his lover's chest, his tears still flowing uncontrollably. Geto gently smiled at you before inviting you in. You hesitated a bit but finally entered, not able to refuse the oldest's pleading eyes. The way to the living room felt endless to you, the silence way too heavy for your liking, and Gojo's soft sobs not helping your nerves at all. After felt like an eternity you finally reached your destination, the two lovers sat on the couch leaving you your spot in your usual chair. You thought it took another lifetime before the silence was finally broken by Geto clearing his throat and starting the conversation.
"So, hm, I don't really know how to start the conversation. Honestly I didn't even think you would ever come back and hear us out, I'm not that prepared, so I will just go straight to the point, I'm sorry." He began his rambling, only serving in quickening your heartbeat even more, scared of the next words that will come out of his mouth. "We don't know exactly what you were refering to with your note, and what you heard. But we can promise you it's a misunderstanding, just a big, big, misunderstanding. You have to believe us, we will never ever hurt you."
"Oh really?" You snickered, the memories of what you've heard coming back to you in a flash, and hitting you in the face even harder than a truck. "So you saying it became unbearable to see me everyday, that you could no longer look at me in the eyes, let alone talk to me, is just a big misunderstanding??" Anger suddenly overflowing your system, replacing all the sadness and nervousness you could feel up until then.
The living room went silent once again, the two lovebirds in a shock at your words. Because surely if you heard this, then, you heard the rest right?? You knew how they felt? Was that what made you this upset? Did them being in love with you repulse you that much that it made you run away from them?? No, no, it couldn't be.
"You heard that?" Suguru breathed out.
"Yes, I did. A bit more difficult to pass this as a misunderstanding now isn't it?" You laughed bitterly.
"Then you know how we feel about you right?? Is that why you're upset?" He continued, still in shock.
"If by how you feel you mean that your hate me, then yes Geto. I know how you feel. And why are you acting so shocked? Is it that hard to believe that me learning my supposedly best friends hate me made me upset?? Or was it suppose to be something I was meant to be aware of from the beginning? Because you sure didn't let that show." You huffed, annoyed at the couple dumbstruck faces, like how dare they act so fucking shocked.
"YOU THINK WE HATE YOU?????????" Both them screamed in unison, the black-haired man having to physically restrain the other one from jumping on you. Their reactions calmed down your anger, only to turn it into confusion.
"Well yeah?? Why else would you say that shit?? Sorry I don't understand why you guys are so surprised right now?" You simply said, staring at them with nothing but confusion in your eyes.
"Oh my god, we do NOT hate you. Oh god. That couldn't be farther from the truth. Oh shit, I'm so relieved right now, I think I could faint." Suguru softly whispered. "Sweetheart, you couldn't be more wrong even if you wanted. Hate you?? Are you insane? We would NEVER hate you. Even with a gun against my head I don't think I could ever utter those words about you."
"I'm so confused, if you don't hate me then why the fuck would you say such things about me? Because there is no way you could be talking about someone else, I heard you say you couldn't bring it up because the person lived with you, and I'm the only one there." You asked, genuinely bewildered by this entire conversation.
"God, this is absolutely not how we wanted to do this, but I don't think we have much of a choice right now do we?" The oldest gently laughed, his smile almost contagious.
"We want you." Satoru suddenly blurted out, startling both of you.
"NO!" Suguru shouted, only to stop himself as if he said the worst thing ever, facepalming before he continued. "I mean yes, but, fuck Satoru this isn't what we talked about."
"They think we hate them! And you're taking way too long, beating around the bush and confusing them more and more. Look at what waiting got us into!! Do you just want them to walk out without knowing how we truly feel?" The youngest rebutted, barely containing himself from pouncing on you and declaring his love for you like he should have done a while ago.
"No.. But do you want to scare them off by just declaring our love for them like that? What we're about to say is not exactly something that is considered conventional in this society Toru. You don't want to startle them and overwhelm them with all our feelings." The raven-haired boy tried to reason.
"I know, but I don't want to hurt them more than we already did." The tallest pouted.
The two lover continued their conversation, as if you weren't there, not realising that they were doing exactly the opposite of what what they were talking about; confessing their unconditional love while being unawere of your dumbfounded self, growing redder and redder with each passing seconds.
"Hm, guys." You finally interrupted. "You know I'm still here, I once again can hear you, and quite correctly this time."
Both men freezed, looking at each other mortified. All of this time spent planning, and carefully rehearsing what they would tell you when they finally confessed, only to do it in such a manner. Suguru was decomposing himself, this house never felt hotter to him as it was right now.
"Haha, what if, you pretended you never heard that???" He chuckled shyly.
"Hm, that would be quite, difficult." You mumbled, your feet and hands suddenly a lot more interesting than the pair in front of you.
You saw something move in your peripheral vision, before a tuff of white hair made its way into your field of vision, Satoru now kneeling in front of you.
"Hey sweetcheek." He softly mouthed, taking your fidgeting hands into his, something that surprisingly eased your nerves. "I know this is quite sudden, and definitely not how we planned to do this, especially not Sugu. But what we said is true, we love you, so, so much. It was hard for us to process, because as Sugu said it, it's not really conventional in our society, so this was really confusing to us. Especially coming to terms with it, but when we realised we both felt the same way towards you, it felt like an evidence. You were the missing part in our life, and you leaving made this even clearer. We cannot function without you, we are too enamored with you to ever imagine a life without you in it. I wanted to just tell you, scream about how much I crave you and your love along Sugu's, but he made me realise this would be selfish. Because, as hard as it was for us to come to term with this, it might be even harder for you, especially if sprung into your face out of nowhere, which we ended up doing any way. And we're very sorry for this. But now that the cat is out of the bag, I want you to know that I love you, God, I love you so much. To think you thought we hated you break me, because there is not a shred of hatred in my body that could ever be directed towards you, and I know it's the same for Sugu. We love you, we love you, we love you." Satoru rambled, his eloquence shocking both you and Suguru.
"And we want you to know that you do not have to reciprocate our feelings, hell, you don't even have to consider them if you don't want to. We just wanted you to know, because that's something that was weighing down on us and we couldn't keep it from you any longer. We don't want this to affect our friendship even more than it already did. As Toru said we cannot function without you, and even if you don't reciprocate our feelings, we want to keep you in our life, because before anything else, you are our best friend, and this will never change. And you don't have to react or say anything about this sudden confession and outburst, you can take the time to think and let all of that sink in. We do not want to pressure you into anything you don't want. I'm so sorry we ended up dumping this on you like that. We had an entire plan prepared but we fucked up. And I'm so sorry we made you believe you were not welcomed in this house, because it's not the case I promise." Geto continued, joining Satoru at your feet, and leaving you no choice but to look at the both of them in the eyes again.
"I, hm, this a lot of information to handle all at once." You exhaled, now realising you've been holding your breath throughout the entirety of the two lovers' speech.
"We know, we're sorry." Suguru murmured, gently stroking your hand, a gesture widely appreciated right now.
"I'm gonna need some time, I think. I don't know what to say." You followed, ligthly squeezing their hands, as if to ground you a bit better in a reality that you were having a hard time to process.
"And we'll give you all the time you need, we've said that already." Satoru replied with a dreamy smile on his face, pleased to be able to have this proximity with you after so long apart.
"Thank you. I think I'll go now." You uttered, hardly moving from your spot despite your words.
"You're more than welcomed to stay here if you want, afterall, this is still your house." Suguru hummed, his face mirroring Satoru's lovestruck one.
"No, I'll go, I won't be able to think straight otherwise. But I'll come back, eventually." You breathed out, still unmoving, hardly understanding anything happening around you that wasn't the two men sitting in front of you.
"Ok, that's fine with us." The white-haired man answered, not moving an inch from his position or letting go of your hand, not helping you in your predicament. But how could he, when he finally could look at you how he longed to do for so long, and who was Suguru to chastise him when he felt the exact same way. Hence why they allowed themselves to endulge a little longer in the skinship they always craved for. You could always do all of your thinking and processing after, was what all of you silently thought and agreed on, just to relish on this moment for a little while longer.
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httpiastri · 1 month
Text
more than enough – jmm21
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you hate your birthday, but pepe is determined to change your mind.
genre: fluff/a little angsty/comfort
pairing: reader x college!pepe marti, ft christian mansell and sebastian montoya
warnings: uhhh anxiety and such ?? idk
word count: 2.6k
author's note: just like last year, this is merely a very self-indulgent birthday gift to myself (and a bit of a late birthday gift for a friend on here who confided in me about not liking their birthday either), so sorry if you don't relate but i needed to write this for myself despite how painful it was. not happy with how it turned out but, i had to get it out of my system. <3 (also not proofread because i will freak out likely aaaaa)
this is mostly a standalone fic but ig it kinda works as college!pepe so i put that there. i got this idea at my mom's birthday back in march but never actually wrote it until this last week... also loosely based on a tiktok that really spoke to me.
also! this doesn't really work with the headcanon of pepe, seb and chris all sharing an apartment, but i wanted it this way. i also wasn't comfortable including gaby or hermes, so i used the names nora and emma for seb's and chris's respective gfs. :)
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"why didn't you tell me your birthday is next week?"
the question is innocent enough, only borderline accusing, but something tightens in your stomach nonetheless. you don't look up from the pot in your hand, however, instead continuing to scrub it with your dishbrush like it's no big deal. "who told you that?"
pepe chuckles as he makes his way over to your side, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. "emma," he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest. "going to answer my question now?"
"i must've forgotten to tell you."
"oh, come on..." your boyfriend shakes his head. "is there a reason i wasn't allowed to know? did i do something? do you not trust me? am i-"
"pepe," you say, his name followed by a sigh as you look over to him in hopes of stopping his rambling. "it's nothing personal."
"what is it, then?" he presses, eyes following your hands as they begin to rinse the pot he'd cooked your pasta in just a couple hours ago. "why don't you want to tell me?"
you take a deep breath, shrugging your shoulders before turning off the tap. "i just... i'm not a big fan of my birthday."
the biggest understatement of the year.
you hate your birthday.
for a number of reasons, really. some to do with your family and childhood; many to do with your own inner thoughts and feelings.
you hate how it reminds you of every bad birthday you had as a kid. you hate how it makes you hopeful that people will remember and congratulate you, because you hate how painful it is when they don't. you hate how you always get reminded of how little people seem to care, and how they always prioritize themselves even on what's supposed to be your day.
it's too much of a mess to explain to him right now – maybe, hopefully, one day you'll have the energy and courage to go through it all.
you hadn't forgotten to tell pepe; you had just been silently hoping he wouldn't address it, and that everyone else would forget, too. but apparently, you have a snitch in your friend group. "what do you mean?" pepe asks.
"i'd much rather not celebrate it." you place the pot on the drying rack, wiping your hands on your towel hanging by the stove before turning to him. "a lot of stuff regarding my birthday just makes me really upset. if i could, i'd just... make it disappear, honestly."
your eyes flicker to the floor, fingers nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. he can tell you don't want to get into it, and he won't push you. instead, he opens his arms wide, taking a step forward. you accept the offer instantly, arms wrapping around his waist as he pulls you close.
the air in your little dorm room isn't as thick as you had expected it to be when telling him all of this – but at the same time, you aren't surprised. pepe has always had a way of grounding you, making everything seem a bit easier. "i can't make it completely disappear, i think," he says, placing his chin on top of your head. "but i can pretend for you."
you hum contently, letting your eyes close for a few moments. "that would be great."
he remains quiet for a couple of seconds, but then he can't stop himself from talking again. "do you really not want anything? no party? you threw me that party for my birthday, i'd feel guilty not doing anything back."
"i did it because you had a fun time and you like those things, and because i enjoyed planning it. but i was really hoping i could skip all that," you answer, pulling away ever so slightly to look up at him with a sheepish expression. "i would honestly rather have dinner with you, emma, nora, sebas, chris... maybe get some takeout from that new indian place down the road?"
to pepe's ears, you sound more than just a tiny bit crazy – but your being so different from him is one of the things that attracted him in the first place. he nods, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "whatever you say, love."
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"where did your girl go?" emma asks the second pepe slumps into a free seat by the cafeteria table.
your boyfriend shoots a glance over his shoulder back to the serving line before setting his plate down. "they were out of rice so she's just waiting for a new batch," he says with a shrug.
"okay then, let's be quick before she gets here," emma speaks up again. "what are we doing for her birthday? it's just a few days away, but i think we can pull something off."
"me and seb were talking about throwing her a surprise party," nora says, looking over at sebastian who's nodding excitedly.
pepe, however, lets out a dismissive sound and swats the air with his hand. "no, forget about that," he says, stuffing a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. "she doesn't want any of that."
nora snorts. "what? of course she does."
"you know, pepe," emma counters, eyebrows raised at the spaniard. "every girl will tell you that she doesn't want a surprise party. don't bother, i don't care, you don't have to do all that for me! but in reality, we're all secretly craving it."
pepe considers her words for a few moments; maybe there is some truth in them after all. maybe all you did was try to act modest, to put the idea in his head so he would make the right choice.
but you weren't the one to bring up the subject – he was. he remembers clearly how you were doing your very best to avoid talking about your birthday at all, and the memory of how tough of a subject it seemed like to you is still etched into his mind. he thinks you were so brave to confide in him like that, and so he needs to stand up for you. he can't dishonor your trust.
"trust me, guys. she really doesn't want it." he ignores the groans of the people around him, taking a few sips of his water before continuing. "can't we all just grab some dinner on saturday instead? maybe that new indian place?"
"works for me," christian joins in. "how about presents, then?"
"right, are we all buying something together, or separate gifts?" emma fills in.
pepe shakes his head yet again. "i don't think she wants that, either." his words are followed by a long silence, which makes him unable to hold back a chuckle. "just paying for the food should be enough."
nora sighs dramatically, the palms of her hands pressing into the sides of her face. "and i'm supposed to just trust you, huh?" she asks and pepe merely shrugs, focusing back on his food. "hope you're not messing with us here, marti."
"i have no idea what he said, but he usually is," your voice spreads through the group as you finally take a seat at the table. "fill me in and i'll help you decide if he's just being annoying."
"i was just telling them about what mr. peterson said yesterday," pepe says quickly. "about what he'll do to everyone who fails the exam."
you throw your head back laughing, nodding instantly. "oh my god, that was hilarious. so, it started with someone on the front row asking about..."
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pepe loves birthdays. his own, too, but mostly he finds himself looking forward to his friends' birthdays and longing to celebrate the important people in his life. he loves picking out gifts, planning celebrations, and making sure everything is perfect. it just comes naturally for him to be caring and detailed in that way.
but while pepe eagerly awaits your birthday, you couldn't even come close to feeling the same way.
most years, you spend the weeks leading up to your birthday dreading it, and the day of your birthday crying, because your birthday reminds you of everything you try to forget year-round.
pepe wants to make the day perfect for you, but he also obviously doesn't want to do too much. it's a hard task, but he's set on making it work – and the first step is getting a cake.
his first thought was to get you something huge, something to properly convey what he thinks you deserve and how much he loves you. though, it didn't take long for him to realize that something like that would be way too much for you. instead, he settled on a more basic yellow cake with some kind of white coating that the lady in the bakery recommended to him, and dropped by the grocery store near campus to buy sprinkles and a bunch of candles.
the end product is a little messy, but created with so much love, and pepe knows you're going to adore it. what he doesn't know is how he managed to keep you away from his refrigerator and the surprise hiding in it all night yesterday, but it doesn't matter – all that matters is that you're currently still sleeping soundlessly in his bed, with no clue of what's going on over in the kitchen.
pepe's hands are trembling slightly as he lights up the candles; he is a little nervous, he will admit, but he's also excited at the same time. he can't wait to see the look of surprise on your face, so he hurries up and places the cake on a tray along with two cups of coffee.
he silently curses at the way his bedroom door creaks when he pushes it open with his foot, but thankfully you don't move a single muscle. he carefully scoots over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to you and balancing the tray in his lap. he reaches over with one hand to your cheek, thumb tracing along your skin, fingers settling under your jaw. "mi amor," he whispers, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. "happy birthday."
it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine lighting up the room, but when they do, they can't help but focus on him. the goofy grin on his lips, the messy hair, the-
the cake on his lap.
you push yourself up to sit in bed, rubbing some sleep out of your eyes. you're mistaken, surely? you're still half-asleep, you must've imagined it...
but no amount of blinking makes the cake disappear. the little flames of the candles swaying in the air, the single drop of stearic rolling down the side of a candle, the rainbow sprinkles sticking to the top and sides of the cake – it's all very real.
pepe was so sure this was the right way to go. but seeing the tears begin to seep out of the corners of his eyes makes him horrified. he messed up.
he knew the sprinkles would be too much. and that amount of candles, what was he thinking? he definitely went overboard.
"oh my god," he says, instantly placing the tray on the bedside table before scooting closer to you. "i'm so so so sorry, i thought you would like it... i don't know what i was thinking. here, let me-"
you shake your head as he begins brushing away your tears with his thumbs, and to his big surprise, you chuckle. "don't be sorry," you say, letting out another laugh when you see the confused expression on his face. "i do like it. a lot." you reach up to take his hands in yours, bringing them down to the bed and intertwining your fingers. "it's just... very emotional, for me. as you can see."
he also chuckles now, and he thinks he understands – even though seeing your happy tears is more painful than he'd expected. "okay," he says with a nod. "so..." his eyes flicker back to the cake.
"yes, please. i mean, what could be better than a sugar rush first thing in the morning?"
pepe would've been so happy to shower you with presents to express how much he loves you; it would've made him so proud to invite all your friends to a big celebration, to show you how much you mean to all of them, to change your idea of a birthday. but this – sitting together in bed, eating straight from the cake (no plates needed), pressing sugary kisses to each other's cheeks – is another form of perfect.
he just hopes you think it's perfect, too.
hearing you tell the stories of how you needed to bake the cake for yourself if you wanted one as a child, how you always made sure to buy yourself a gift because the risk that no one else would get you one was too high, and how you always needed to plan out your own parties breaks his heart – but hearing you open up like that also means the world to him. he understands that it's all buried so deep inside of you, but there's nothing he wants more than to help you heal and to prove that you can have much better and bigger birthdays than that.
but for now, a little cake in bed and a ton of kisses will have to do.
baby steps.
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"chris, will you pass me the chicken korma?"
he leans over the crowded couch table and holds out the takeaway box to nora, who takes it into her hands and thanks him. "that one is really good," you tell her through your mouthful of bread, nodding to your friend.
"what's the verdict, then?" sebastian asks from his seat over on the couch. "i need a rating from the birthday girl, one to ten."
"food? ten," you say, taking a sip of your soda. "company? ten."
birthday? eleven.
the whole day has been much better than you'd expected; from your wake-up this morning, to the lunch date you shared with pepe over in town after a cute walk along the river, to having your closest friends all gathered in your living room for you. you don't even mind the way your buttcheeks are already starting to hurt after sitting on the floor for too long – you knew you should've invested in more seating for moments like these – because all of this is worth it.
"agreed," pepe chimes in from next to you. "especially about the food."
"speaking of which," says emma. "was there any bread left?"
you're quick to jump to your feet, already turning towards the kitchen. "garlic or plain?"
"ooh, garlic! thank you!"
pepe hurries off the floor right after you, making up some excuse about getting a new spoon for one of the sauces, but no one even bats an eye. you hear him enter through the door, and you smile instinctively. "how are you feeling?" he asks when he reaches your side, hand finding the small of your back as you rummage through the takeaway bag. "is this all enough?"
"it's more than enough. so much more." after pulling out the garlic naan from the bag, you reach up to the side of his face with your free hand, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "best birthday ever."
you seal your words with a feather-light kiss to his lips, and he's still smiling when you pull away. "you promise?" he asks, eyes searching through yours for any slightest hint of insincerity or uncertainty.
"i promise." another kiss, followed by a gentle hum, and he visibly relaxes. "thank you."
"no, thank you." for opening up, for letting him do all this for you. for existing. "only happy birthdays from now on, okay? i will make sure of it."
"it could never be anything other than a happy birthday with you around."
137 notes · View notes
ashessonfire · 1 year
Note
Bonjour, lovely!! I adore your fics, your choice of words are just *✧delectable✧⁠* and I'm amazed at how you beautifully written Kaz. If you may, could you write a little fluff with the reader being a skilled painter/sculptor and she helps the crows in art forgery. (I personally love when there's a little angsty yearning in the mix but I trust you will blow it out of the waters). Mercii!!
Stolen hearts - Kaz Brekker x Reader
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Prompt : As a crow who specializes in art, what happens when Kaz stumbles upon one of your personal sketchbooks and gets a little jealous? - Pairing : Kaz Brekker x Reader - Warnings : Jealous Kaz, Kaz being an idiot, he gets a bit upset but nothing too crazy :)
A/N : Hi my loves, this is a pretty long one but I ADORED this idea, and so I let myself run with it.This may just be one of my favourite things I have ever written so I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing this!! As always requests are open, and please check my list here for other characters I write for!!
click here for masterlist
click here for characters I write for
(Also it seems as if we are getting closer to finding out if we are getting a SOC spin off!! After the writers strikes we should hopefully know, so lets try keep the Grishaverse fandom alive on here!! <3 )
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"You want me to recreate that in two days? Kaz, the original is painted in oils, they don't even dry in that time!" You exclaimed, peering over the top of a stolen painting at your boss, his gaze hard yet not harsh.
"I am aware," Kaz began, "But that's why I hired you, isn't it? You have not missed a deadline once, and I know you won't miss it now," his firm voice rung out into the acoustics of his office.
And of course, he was right.
Although you would have to take a few shortcuts, you could feel your fingertips twitching against the oak frame of the piece, mind already composing each element of the scene. Tucking it beneath your arm, you let out a gentle sigh, nodding swiftly in his direction before departing from the room.
He had saved you, and this painting was only a fragment in your repayment of Kaz Brekker.
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A fire had swept through your village just beyond the confines of the Barrel, leaving you with nothing but your pouch, filled to the brim with pencils, inks, and as many types of paper as you had been able to salvage. The corners of your paintings began to singe as your home was engulfed, pain piercing your heart as you sprinted down the path to evade the impenetrable walls of flame.
Ketterdam beckoned you into her grip, as you ventured through the dim alleyways until shadow gave way to dazzling light displays. The Lid revealed itself to you, and with no other choice you slotted yourself in with the penniless street merchants that lined the alleys of Ketterdam.
For years, you offered sketches, portraits, and paintings to the rich tourists that marveled at Ketterdam's wonders. Although mere pennies were offered in exchange for your work, it was enough to renew your supplies and evade sleeping by the canal, or being trampled by tourists.
As time crawled along your skills blossomed, transforming your rough ideas into magnificent pieces, worthy of far more than a few kruge. Soon, you began to slip into galleries, memorizing each stroke until your mind could guide your hands without a single thought. Portraits that were worth thousands were then being passed into clueless pigeon's hands for only a few hundred kruge, as your skills were unmatched in the art of forgery.
Little did you know that you were being kept under the watchful eye of Kaz Brekker's wraith, your talents being thoroughly observed and reported back to the leader of the crows.
You were able to swindle the pigeons for a few months until the Watchstadt began to take note of the remarkable artistry of your paintings. Overnight, the tides of your fortune changed, awaking one evening to the thudding of leather against stone, inching closer to you as each moment passed.
In a desperate attempt to escape your fate, you clutched your belongings and shot down a back alley, shadows offering you a blanket of protection from the moon's shimmering light. However it seemed as if your luck had reached its limit, as several guards barreled out in front of you, as your other exits were swiftly stolen from you.
Tears began to blur your vision, lightheadedness overtaking your senses, the guard's words became muffled and distant, as panic overtook your being. You were barely aware of a gentle voice calling you from your terror, a soft hand wiping away the beads of pain falling from your eyes.
In the hours that followed, you scarcely registered anything but your gratitude towards Inej, and ultimately to Kaz who had been increasing the hours that his wraith was sent to protect you. In a few swift meetings, Kaz Brekker had settled a deal with you, sheltering you from the darkness of the Barrel, whilst securing a valuable new member of the crows.
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"Thank the saints that that is over," Jesper all but shouted, falling backwards onto the sofa in the common room of the slat. Placing yourself on a worn armchair opposite, you felt somewhat peaceful as your painting had been so seamless that the entire mission was cut short by a few hours.
After jobs, each crow fell into their own routines to unwind the tension that undeniably interwove into each of them. Kaz's cane thumped lightly against the creaking oak of the staircase, ascending to his room to continue plotting. Hushed whispers often omitted from Wylan and Jesper as they basked in each other's company.
Inej was usually missing, as she was now, exploring the endless expanses of rooftops whilst allowing the bitter air to cool her down. Taking in the couple across from you, and a now slumbering Nina beside you, you reached for the familiar leather binding of your sketchbook.
The glowing embers of the low-lit fire cast soft shadows on your friends, and the light washes of orange and red watercolour aided in your attempt to capture the peaceful scene unfolding before you. However, the absence of a certain presence pulled you from your portrait, thoughts straying to the man who undoubtedly was scheming once more in his office.
Since joining his crew, a small fondness for the "demjin" had harbored itself deep within your heart, impenetrable and unmoving. He treated you with a cold kindness, gifting you small tins of expensive paints, or the latest papers, completely dismissing the fact they were irrelevant to your job.
With a short shake of your head, the thoughts dispelled, returning your mind to the clarity it needed to produce your sketch, the flames from the fireplace dimming as the room began to fall into shadow. The peace that art instilled you with returned, as your heartbeat slowed and a sense of calm washed over you with each brushstroke.
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Settling into his chair, Kaz let out a short breath, tension easing slightly from his body as relief gripped him, all thanks to you. Your painting had exceeded his expectations, not a single person suspecting the image to have been forged, and the original stolen into the possession of the Dregs.
Few things could entrance Kaz Brekker, yet something about the way your colours melted into each other, or the clear emotion engrained into every miniscule detail of a painting pulled him in. Perhaps the depth of your sculptures, or the smooth yet carefully crafted edges of the clay coming to life in his imagination were to blame for his admiration for you.
Kaz's mind wandered as he thoughtlessly ridded his desk of it's papers, hastily stacking them into neat piles as he tried to shake his thoughts of you.
Suddenly, Kaz was startled from his inner battle, gloved fingers brushing against a foreign texture, a hard leather cover of, something? Curiosity urged him to retrieve the book from underneath the blueprints and paperwork, eyes scanning over the front in search of a clue as to what the binding held.
Carefully undoing a well tied string, the front page fell flat against his weathered desk, the candle beside him offering a gentle illumination. Kaz's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the contents of the book, the etches of the pencil being too precise to belong to any person, but you.
The charcoal marks formed on the fraying page to portray Jesper, content as he sat on a patterned bar stool in the Crow Club, eyes slightly creased in content. Thumbing to the next page, Kaz discovered another depiction of his sharpshooter, however this time he was polishing his guns. Unlike the previous image, Jesper was now depicted in a light wash of colour, bringing him seemingly to life.
Enchanted by your work, Kaz continued to marvel at each sketch and painting, however a sharp feeling grabbed at his chest as he came to a realization. Apart from a few pages here and there, the subject that lined the parchment was always Jesper. Turning the pages increasingly quicker, a feeling of dread seeped into his stomach, a twisting combination of jealousy and annoyance building within him.
A gentle knock broke him from these thoughts, as your voice called out in the hope you would be permitted entry. Carefully, Kaz slid your sketchbook to the opposite end of his desk, pretending to analyze a discarded stack of papers before allowing you in.
"Hey Kaz, I was just coming to check in on you, I didn't get to catch up with you after..." you began, speech diminishing as your eyes fell upon the bronzed edges of one of your sketchbooks. Your eyes lit up as you began to grin.
"You left it on my desk," Kaz stated, trying desperately to burry the knot in his stomach, as your expression brightened at the thought of finding the book full of Jesper. "I've been looking everywhere for this one, thank you Kaz," you respond, hastily reclaiming the book, folding it snuggly between your arms and your chest.
"It shouldn't be here," Kaz snapped, a sharp tone piercing the previously warm atmosphere, "It's your personal sketchbook, so it needs to stay personal. Understand?" Kaz bit out, stunning you into silence as you backed away towards the door.
"Oh," you began, "I didn't mean to leave it here," voice cracking as you battled through the shock of his manner, and the hurt of him snapping at you. "Make sure I don't see it again, although I'm sure Jesper would love to," Kaz concluded, practically spitting out your friend's name.
The dismay you felt began to ebb away as you took in your boss' expression more closely, your upset being replaced with something resembling humour. "Kaz," your voice quietly began, "You're not jealous, are you?" you question.
Although the room remained silent, his features spoke a thousand words to you, his eyes widening fractionally to reveal fright, face becoming tinged by a rosy blush. Before you could utter another word, Kaz had guided you to the arched doorway, pushed you through the threshold, and slammed the door before you could witness the tips of his ears turning crimson.
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Through the warped glass pane of his window, Kaz was stirred by the early rays of sunrise, face gently caressed by each stream of light that infiltrated the darkness. Despite the restless sleep he gained, the bastard was surprised he had managed to fall unconscious at all.
From the moment he had shut the door on you, feelings of jealousy and shame had consumed him. He swore he had heard a splinter echo throughout his chest as he recalled the hurt spreading across your face the previous evening.
Letting out a short breath of frustration, he slowly contorted his stiff limbs into a sitting position, and only then did his gaze cast onto the unfamiliar shade of leather perching on his nightstand. Unease began to spread through his body, fingertips sparking with anticipation as he reached over to retrieve the sketchbook.
Frustration began to wrestle with the discontent, as he unwound the ribbon binding the wrinkled pages together, yet the colour of the leather seemed to shift underneath his gaze. Unlike the book he had previously discovered, this one was made of a darker material which he could only liken to the darkness of midnight. As he angled the cover, flecks of gold appeared, the early sun dancing light off of each one, illuminating the leather as if it were a sky full of stars
Nimbly undoing the ribbon on the side, the first page fell open, and to his surprise, a neatly penned note fell out of the cover, revealing an image behind it that Kaz was sure he would have permanently engraved in his memory. A pair of sharp eyes met his own, and his breath caught in his throat as he questioned whether he was glimpsing into some sort of mirror.
With a desperation he himself could not even comprehend, Kaz began to flip through the pages, the guilt he had initially felt now burning him from the inside out, singeing at his chest. Each portrait captured his every emotion, each stroke precise and beautiful in a way he had never experienced before.
Gently unfolding the corners of the note, Kaz's gaze deepened with each curling letter of your short message -
Dear Mr Brekker,
After your discovery yesterday, I thought it only fair to also show you your notebook too. I have one for each of the crows, yourself included, and so I kindly ask you not to panic further about Jesper being the only muse of my pieces.
Love, your favourite artist
P.S ~ You also have a second book, if you are interested.
Kaz's breath hitched at the word 'love' before his mind could even comprehend it, head spiraling with thoughts of you as he pictured your gentle teasing laughter as you penned the note to him. The guilt and shame became so consuming in that second that his chest constricted, and he knew the only way he could alleviate the weight was by visiting you.
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A sharp knock pierced through the silence of your room, pen stopping mid point as you called a gentle welcome to the man behind the door. Kaz's figure slowly filled the doorframe, waistcoat slightly untucked, and hair somewhat out of place as if he had raced to see you.
A teasing grin began to illuminate your features, and the sunrise seeping through your window was more than bright enough to display Kaz's rose dusted cheeks as he averted his gaze. Without so much as a sound passing through his pursed lips, a gloved hand directed itself towards you, clutching onto the dark sketchbook.
You smile faltered, the glimmer seeping from your eyes as your lips fought to stay curved, as you questioned, "You didn't like it?" Kaz shifted his dark gaze to meet your own, brows lightly furrowing as he grumbled "I thought you might want it back."
Your gaze softened as the walls you had been beginning to construct around your heart crumbled, "Oh, I meant it more like a gift Kaz, plus I have several more books dedicated to you anyway," you uttered tenderly. The figure before you lowered his head towards the object in his hands, knuckles whitening beneath his leather gloves as his grip hardened.
After a fleeting moment of your boss' gaze sweeping over your features, he gave a swift nod in gratitude, the scent of ink and secrets trailing behind him as he ventured back to his office. Disappointment clung to your chest at his swift departure, hoping that he would have remained in your presence for a few moments more.
However, as your gaze travelled upwards to glimpse at his departing figure, you noticed how he had faltered in your doorway. His broad shoulders were facing you, allowing you to to observe every deep yet ragged breath that lifted his chest.
"I..." He began, voice so low that it was barely audible, "I'm sorry for last night, I shouldn't have said those things to you," Kaz almost spat out, the words tasting foreign on his lips as he attempted to quickly escape to the confines of his office.
"Kaz," you called out, hope unravelling the knots of anxiety from previously, leaving you with streams of a newfound confidence, "I just thought you should know you are my favourite subject. No one else in Ketterdam seems to have a better facial structure than yours."
Kaz could hear the thick inflections of your smirk within your words, ribbons of humour intertwining with each letter you spoke. Despite your teasing being met with a remarkably loud silence, your words had planted themselves deep inside Kaz's heart.
Racing back towards his office, the beat of his cane against the oak panels of the slat hastened by the second.
Yet not even they could match the pace at which Kaz's heart was beating, as his mind replayed your words over and over in his head until the way the word "favourite" was all he could hear.
Thinking back to your short note, Kaz's lips formed a ghost of a smile, since not only were you his favourite, but he was yours.
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Kaz Brekker tag list : @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @swhisperer @sleepynightchild @atlasiiae @kaiinohh @sannunah28 @at-the-chateau @withbeautyandragendrage @animalistic00 @whos6claire @any-corrie @daisydark @shara-ne @xxinvisiblexx @ldhpeter @viperinferno @kozbtchx @wishyouwere-sober (please comment if you would like to be added to the Kaz Brekker taglist)
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P.S - The best way to support writers on here is to repost / repost + add tags! If you could spend a minute or so doing this, it would mean the world <3
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 9 months
Text
Holiday Treats
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Summary: Christmas Eve is filled with cuddles and cookies, but Christmas morning....now that's filled with something even more delicious
Warnings: slight angsty bits i guess, smut(fingering, unprotected vaginal sex)
Authors note: yes, i said I wouldn't be posting here anymore but ya know what, I've put too much work into this damn masterlist to not carry on even with lack of interest, and anons are off so i hopefully can't receive any more hate
Authors note 2.0: its late, but here's the first Christmas fic!
Word Count: 4293 BuckyNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist
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   Steam surrounds Natasha as she stands under the showerhead, letting the hot water cascade down onto her body and soothe her muscles. After a few more minutes she decides it's time to get out, even if she doesn't want to leave its warm embrace and step out into the chill of the apartment. Not that it truly was cold, not with the heat cranked up the way it was to fight off the outside December weather, but still, it was enough of a difference to matter.
   With the water now off, she's treated to the sound of Christmas music as it softly plays in the living room, filling the apartment in a cozy and cheerful atmosphere. It brings a smile to her face, and she now finds herself much more willing to get out. She opens the glass shower door and carefully steps out, wrapping herself and then her hair in fluffy towels adorned with little snowmen embroidered in the corners.
   She quickly dries herself off and moves closer to the countertop, grabbing her clothes and quickly putting her bra and underwear on. She slips on a pair of leggings next before finishing the look with her new Christmas sweater that you had gotten her. She wipes away the fog on the mirror in order to get a glimpse of how she looks in it, and her smile widens. She hopes you like it on her just as much as she does.
   After drying her hair she finally emerges, and makes a beeline out of the bedroom in order to find her lovers, and her heart practically melts when she finds you both. 
    “Why are you making some when we have these?” James, who also has on the Christmas sweater you bought him, asks as he looks over at a pile of boxes on the table
   “Because those are premade kits for us to make gingerbread cookie houses” you explain, “And I, am making us regular cookies to eat”
   “We can't eat these?” he asks
   You chuckle as you sort through your cookie cutters, “We can, yes. But I thought it would be nice to have a variety to bake together too”
   “Can we make peanut butter ones?” Nat asks, making her presence known. Your face lights up when you see her in her sweater, making her heart swell
   “Of course we can” you answer, smiling softly at the two as she joins James at the table, “I have supplies for some chocolate chip ones and sugar cookies too”
   “You're spoiling us” James says, but the way the corner of his mouth tilts up tells you that he isn't really against that notion 
   You shrug, “The two of you deserve to be spoiled. Especially at Christmas”
   Both practically melt at hearing that, and neither could fully understand what they did to deserve such a loving and caring partner after all they've done, but they certainly were glad they were able to call you theirs.
   “Okay, so what are we making first then?” Nat asks, making her way over to you and your countertop covered in supplies and ingredients
   “Well, since we wouldn't want to ruin these fantastic sweaters you both have on” you tease, “Lets put these on”
   By the time you grab the aprons, James has also joined you at the counter, and he can't help but laugh when he sees Well Hung written on the one you're handing him in fancy cursive writing accompanied by a few decorative bulbs.
   “Don't laugh, we all know it's true” you say with a wink, leaving his cheeks to turn pink as you hand Nat one of the others
   She reacts similarly when handed hers. Santas face wearing sunglasses takes up most of the space, with the words I do it for the HOs written underneath
   “Does that mean you and James are hoes then?” She teases, “Because you know I only do things for the two of you.”
   “I know love, and I'm happy to be your hoe any day of the week. What about you James?”
   He playfully rolls his eyes before answering, “Gladly. Anytime and any place”
   “Oh, now don't tell her that” you scold, slapping his arm, “Or we'll never get these cookies done”
   She laughs, confirming your thoughts with her signature smirk, “Well, we wouldn't want that, so lets see your apron then”
   Yours has a picture of old parchment with an ink quill with the phrase I'm the reason Santa has a naughty list scrolled across it. Both chuckle as James shakes his head
   “You could say that again”
   “Hey!” You pout, “I'm actually very well behaved thank you very much”
   “Oh, we know detka(baby)” the redhead purrs, making you gulp, “Now, keep behaving and tell us where to start”
   You clear your throat in order to regain your cool, even if the blush on your cheeks remains, “Well, I have all of the dry ingredients set out already, so if one of you could grab the mixing bowls and spoon and the other grab the eggs, butter, peanut butter and vanilla extract please?”
   Without even speaking a word to each other, they head in separate directions, Nat going for the rest of the ingredients and James going for the bowls. You smile in gratitude as they both set everything on the counter, both giving excited smiles and return and it breaks your heart to think about the fact that probably neither of them have made cookies before.
   “Okay, so Tasha you're in charge of the peanut butter ones”
   “Of course” James teases, making her stick her tongue out in response
   You shake your head at their antics, but carry on, “And James, you've got the sugar cookies”
   “That's because you can’t mess those up” Nat tells him, jabbing his ribs with her finger
   “Ow, stop that” he chastises, batting away her hand with his metal one
    “Behave” you tell them pointedly, though the smile on your face tells them you aren’t entirely serious
   Still both compuse themselves, and turn to you waiting for you to guide them in cookie baking. They follow along as you tell them how much of each ingredient to put in while you get your own batch of cookies ready, and when the time comes for mixing everything together you watch fondly as they do their best to get all the lumps out. The next task is to portion out the dough and get it on baking pans, which you had already laid out on top of the oven. You hand them each their own tray before bringing your own over
   “Good job loves, you did very well and your doughs look delicious” you praise, watching their faces light up, “Start rolling them into balls for the trays so we can bake them”
   “How big do we make them?” Nat asks, already starting to roll one
   You take a bit of your own dough into your hands and begin rolling it, “Big enough that you can fit all the dough onto the tray, but small enough that there's a decent amount of space between them so they don’t end up touching.”
   They both nod before proceeding to follow your instructions, and before long you have three trays full of cookies ready to bake. Natasha smiles as she looks down at her peanut butter tray and pride fills her. It was hard for her sometimes, not feeling embarrassed for having to learn something that most people were taught growing up or just learned through the normal human experience. But from the start, you and James had never treated her differently for not knowing something. Instead the two of you would always explain things to her and help her, doing it in a way that didn’t make her feel stupid or babied but instead had her confidence blossoming. And she would forever be grateful for both of your kindness and patience.
   On your other side, Bucky feels proud too, but for a different reason. He's just happy to have done something fun that will bring joy. Even if it was short lasting and in the grand scheme of things, was inconsequential. He's done so much violence and harm in his life, and even if it hadn’t been done of his own volition, that doesn’t ease the guilt that gnaws at him. But doing stuff like this, yeah, sometimes that made the guilt fade for a while. Because it was good, and harmless and it just let him be normal and use his hands to create instead of ruin. And having the two women he loved more than anything by his side, loving him despite his flaws and traumas, and sharing in those good memories, it meant more to him than words could ever even begin to describe. 
   “Okay, that should do it” you announce, breaking both of them from their trains of thought, “James could you preheat the oven to 350 please?”
   “Yeah, sure” He says, wiping his hands on his apron before moving to do as he's told
   Nat takes this opportunity to wrap her arms around your middle to pull you close against her and kiss your cheek, “Thank you detka(baby), for helping us make these.”
   “Of course love, and it can be one of our new Christmas tradition for us if you’d both like”
    “We’d love that” James answers, having seen the look on the redheads face at your words and knowing his face showed the same
   You smile as he joins in the embrace, placing a kiss on your other cheek as his one arm wraps around your waist to tangle with Nats, “Good. It’s important to have traditions. Now let's get everything in the sink and clean ourselves up. By then the oven should be heated”
   Sure enough, as soon as you all finish up cleaning and removing your aprons, the oven dings. You put your own tray in first before watching them do the same, but you had to stop yourself from shouting out to James to be careful not to touch the coils, momentarily forgetting that his metal appendage wouldn't be harmed.
  “Alright, now that they're in, we should have enough time for a cuddle session in the living room before they're done.”
   “Oh? Is that so?” Your girlfriend teases, the corners of her mouth lifting up to show her interest in the idea
   James wraps his arms around you both, “Well, then what are we waiting for? Come on”
   He leads you both into the room, but as he sees the state of the couch, his excitement falters a bit. Sensing his posture shift, the Russian tears her gaze away from the beautiful tree in the corner and moves it over to the furniture. She can hardly stifle a giggle as she takes in Liho and Alpine all stretched out, nearly taking up all the cushion space
   “Come on guys, that's just unfair” he huffs, “Can't you move over to your bed? It's just like a giant cushion. And it's in front of the fire, nice and warm.”
  To no surprise, neither feline moves or even shows interest, which deflates him further. Now you're the one trying to stifle your giggles as he goes to move them, only to be stopped by Nat
  “Nope, don't think so. They were their first”
   “You can't be serious” your boyfriend scoffs, looking over at you for help
   You raise your hands in defense, “You heard the lady. And besides, you said so yourself, their huge bed is indeed a big cushion. So…”
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   A few minutes later, the three of you are indeed on the comically large pet bed, with James squished in the middle. His arms are wrapped around your waist and Nats while the two of you hold hands behind his back. It's an incredibly soft and domestic scene, one which you doubt either of them had ever thought they'd get the opportunity to indulge in. Thoughts like that always make you simultaneously sad and happy. Sad because they deserved so much more and so much better, but happy because they're here with each other and you which means they are getting what they deserve now. And you’d give them that until the world stopped
  A log crackles and pops on the fire, which gains your attention, and as you gaze at it James breaks the silence, “Thank you for all of this Y/n, it really means a lot to Nat and I that you've helped us have our first true Christmas in god only knows how long”
   “You don’t have to thank me for that, neither of you do. It’s my pleasure to be able to give you happy memories as we spend time together. Have you enjoyed anything more than the other activities so far?”
   “I think the cartoon movies were my favorite.” Nat admits, “They brought out that childhood wonder I have rarely gotten to feel since Ohio.”
   The admission has you smiling wide and tearing up a little if you're honest, “I’m glad to hear that baby.”
   “I liked decorating the tree.” James says next, “Reminded me of when my sister and I would do it together. We always did it too, even after I’d grown and started my training for the Army and even once I was enlisted too. I hope she always carried me in spirit while continuing the tradition just like I carried her with us this year.”
  Now Natasha was holding back tears of her own as she kisses his cheek, “I’m sure she did dorogoy(darling), I’m sure she did”
   After a few more minutes of shared memories and peaceful silence the oven timer dings, signaling that the cookies were done baking. You and your two helpers trot to the kitchen to remove your respective trays, and James immediately attempts to take one to try.
   You slap his metal hand, “Your hand may not feel it, but I promise you that your mouth would”
   “But they look so yummy, and it's already past ten” 
   “Grandpa” Nat chuckles, earning herself a playful glare from the man
   “It’s not because I’m old. It’d because I know that we’ll all be up earlier than we normally would in order to enjoy ourselves here before going to Tonys” he elaborates, though you and Nat know it really is a bit of both
   “Alright, fine. I’ll give you that” you tell him grabbing some glasses and plates from the nearby cupboard, “So we’ll have our milk on stand by”
   You each put a few cookies on your plates and fill your glasses with milk before taking a seat at the kitchen table. It gives the perfect view of the city on a normal occasion, but now it's even more magical. Snowflakes flutter through the air, drifting down towards the piles that already adorn the rooftops and alleyways, and the twinkle of multicolored lights is almost endless. IT was the perfect scenery to end the night looking at, and the silence that fills the air as your partners also look over the city tell you that they feel the same and are just as enamored by the view.
   It doesn’t take long for the three of you to finish your cookies, turn off your Christmas playlist and get changed into your festive matching pajama sets. And now the three of you are settled into bed, a mess of tangled limbs and body head as you all cuddle together. 
   “Goodnight you two” you whisper, squeezing them both affectionately
   “Night Y/n, Nat” James mumbles, already half asleep
   You can feel the Russian smile against your neck at his sleepy response, “Goodnight loves”
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  Come morning, Natasha is of course the first to wake up. And no, it had nothing to do with her being excited, she was just naturally an early riser. Okay, so maybe she was a bit excited, but she would have been awake at this hour regardless. With the curtains being drawn the room is still enveloped in darkness, but that doesn’t stop her from gazing in her lovers directions. With her highly tuned senses her eyes quickly adjust, and when can begin to make the two of you out. James, as expected is still out cold, snoring softly. But to her surprise she finds your eyes wide open as you stare at her with a loving smile
   “Hi”
   “Hi” she greets, reaching out to grab your hip, “You're supposed to be sleeping”
   “One could argue the same about you” you reply, cupping her face
   She chuckles, “Touche, but we all know I’m an early riser”
  “I am too on Christmas” you explain, “I just get filled with too much excitement for the day, can’t keep my eyes closed”
   She lets out a hum of understanding as she shifts, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you closer. With you now right up against her she tucks her face against your neck, letting her warm breath fan across your skin as her hands trace comforting circles against your pajama top
   You relax into her embrace and reach out to run your hand through her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp as you do so. It's one of her favorite gestures, and she practically purrs at the affection as she places a gentle kiss against your collarbone. As careful as possible she slipes her thigh between your own, and you catch on to what she's doing
   “You're up to something” you whisper, making her smile against you
   “Maybe” she responds, letting one of her hands go up under your shirt
   Her cool hand makes you shudder and you press yourself even further against her, “Tasha, you don’t have to”
   “I know. But I want to” she answers, beginning to trail kisses across your jaw, “I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you. Please Y/n, can I?”
   You fight the urge to dumbly nod, remembering the still slumbering man behind you, “What about James?”
   “Oh, I’m sure he wants the same thing detka(baby), and we both know you can’t stay quiet” a whine escapes you at this and she chuckles before continuing, “So when you wake him, he can join us. Does that sound good?”
   “Yes” 
   “Good” she says, kissing you briefly as her hand makes it way to your hip, “Now, start grinding my love, I know you want to”
   You begin to roll your hips against her and she tenses her muscle for you. The feeling of her strength alone is enough to have even more heat pooling in your belly, but when her hands move to cup your breasts, you know you're making a mess in your panties
   “Tasha” you whimper out, feeling you core throb at just her simplest of touches
   “I’m right here” she assures, letting one of her hands trail down your body until it reaches your waistband. She shifts back enough to get a good look at your face as she slips into your pants, swiping her fingers through your soaked heat, “So wet for me”
   “Please” you beg, pushing your hips closer to entice her, and it works. She eagerly obliges, pushing two of her fingers inside you with ease and curling them just right, “Oh god”
   She begins to pump her fingers steadily inside you as her other hand still works at your chest. It's a miracle your still cognizant of your surroundings with as easily as she's able to work you up, and you can’t help but let out sounds of pleasure as she does everything just right
  “You sound so pretty detka(baby)” she whispers before connecting her lips against yours. It's full of nothing but passion as she pours out her love for you in it, making you feel a bit bad that all you can do is return it sloppily due to your current mindset
   When her lips finally pull away from yours, another arm wraps around your center and James hot breath is in your ear, “She definitely does. Best sound to wake up to”
   He gropes you over your pajamas, causing a wanton moan to leave you as your walls clench down upon Natashas fingers which has her moaning as well. She can tell how close you are so she brings her thumb up to brush against your clit
   “Ah! Tasha!”
   “Gonna cum for her pretty girl?” James asks, feeling how your body begins to shake. You nod furiously at his question and he looks at the redhead with a smile
   “Go ahead, cum when you're ready” 
   As soon as she says in you clamp down on her with a vice like grip and throw your head back against James as pleasure washes over you. Natasha is treated to a gush of your juices down her palm and the sight of you blissed out in pleasure coupled with all your earlier sounds has her underwear quite a mess themselves
   “Hell of a way to wake up” James teases, his hand gently rubbing your side to help calm you down
   Nat only smiles at him, “Well, she isn’t complaining”
   “Neither am I” he assures, reaching out to cup her face, “But now I think it's your turn”
   Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink as he pulls her in, letting her lips meet yours once more before his takes your place. You let your hands roam across the toned muscles of her abdomen as the two of them kiss, and try not to squirm as her fingers finally slip from inside you
   “But Y/n- ”
   “Will be fine, I’m a great multitasker.” he states, shifting slightly to allow you to feel the bulge at the front of his pants
   “Oh” you moan, feeling yourself already becoming needy for him
   “You like how that sounds baby?” he asks, his chin stubble tickling your ear
    “Yes please” you answer, reaching back to palm him
    His hips lightly roll against you, “Get your pants off for me then”
    You wiggle to do just that while you're still stuck between the two. Once he realizes you've done as he asked he moves his pants and boxers down enough to free his length, which is already throbbing at just the mere idea of pleasing his girls. He guides it forward, pressing the tip against your dripping folds and you watch his hand move to grab your girlfriends plump ass, “And what about you Tasha, you okay with this?”
   “Yes” she affirms, moving slightly to both be closer to you and give him better access
   His hand withdraws from her momentarily to hoist your heg up over her waist, and he pushes himself inside you. You gasp as his thickness stretches you open, and your hands find purchase on areas of your girlfriend to help ground yourself. Before Natasha can even register it, his hand is in her bottoms, and his fingers are toying with her entrance
   “James…please”
   “I've got you” he tells her before slipping two fingers inside her just as she’d done with you
   She moans at the stretch and shivers at your despret touches as he starts to roll his hips forward, making you take him even deeper. One of the perks of his serum is the extra stamina, which definitely comes in handy at times like this. He's able to keep up with ease, pumping and curling his fingers in Natashas cunt in perfect rhythm with how he's thrusting his dick into yours
  “God you both feel so good around me” he groans, quickening his pace a little 
   Natasha lets out a moan of her own and her own as he hits that perfect spot inside her, and you find yourself eye to eye with her as her hand clutches onto your thigh as pleasure overtakes her features. The sight alone has you clenching down on James even harder so he starts to move his thumb against your girlfriends clit, reveling in how she begins to shake
   “Oh god…oh god, James” she moans, her eyes practically rolling back
   “Go ahead krasivaya(beautiful)” 
   The Russian word is what sends her over the edge with a cry, which effectively has you coming right after her. As pleasure crashes over you, you can feel James erupt, filling you with his seed. 
   He continues his movements, helping you both come down from your climaxes until Nat whimpers. As soon as he pulls his hand from her she's curling up against your still heaving chest, seeking the comfort of cuddles. You waste no time in indulging her in this, wrapping your arms around her waist and pepper kisses against her hairline while James simultaneously rubs her back soothingly and kisses your neck as he snuggles against it
   “Merry Christmas moya lyubov'(my loves)” she says, trying her best to get her arms around you both, “Thank you both for being the best gift I could ever receive on any holiday”
   “Merry Christmas Tasha, James” you reply, “I love you both more than words describe”
   James smiles at you both, having never felt so full of love or hope before, “Merry Christmas my girls. Thank you for making this one, and every one after it, special”
   You and Nat hum in acknowledgement and you truly just take a moment to thank the universe. You're so glad it was you that got the privilege of having these two incredibly kind and misunderstood people by your side. You're glad it was you that could help mend their wounds and broken hearts, and know they feel the same. Without you they'd be lost, but with you they have a home. A place to be and a thing to celebrate this holiday season. And what could be more perfect than that.
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Taglist: @when-wolves-howl @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @eline03 @wizardofstories @marvelonmymind @bitch-616 @yelenasdiary
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grandlinedreams · 11 months
Note
hello!! I've been reading your law works recently, and I absolutely love the way you write him- you just capture his character so well :,)
hopefully it's not too much to ask, but can you write about law/reader soulmate au? I don't have anything too specific in mind because i'm really not too good with making prompts 😔
maybe a bit angsty though? I would also prefer if it was in the canon setting, but modern au would be fine too :)
Thank you in advance!!
OH I'M A SUCKER FOR SOULMATE AUS as I've said before I think dkdjs my brain's still booting up for the day but absolutely!! Couldn't resist adding the quote I was thinking about yesterday because Law is so Kaz Brekker coded istg
[Heads up!: talk of soulmates/red string of fate, little bit of angst, fluff, the 'fell first vs fell harder' trope]
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"Do you believe in soulmates?"
The question makes Law pause where he's in the middle of reading about a blood-borne pathogen, looking up and over. Splayed out over his bed with your own book in your hand, you stare back. He frowns.
"Why are you asking?"
You shrug. "It's in this book," you say, "It's talking about how there's different ways to look at it. If they're two pieces of the same soul just separated and always trying to make it back to each other, or if something called a string of fate ties them together."
Law makes a noise in the back of his throat. "That sounds ridiculous."
"So you don't believe in them?"
"No." He watches you for a moment, studying you. "Do you?"
You hum, lifting one of your hands and focusing on your pinky. You can almost see it, the neat knot of red tied around the knuckle, string that loops and weaves aimlessly through the air. If such a thing exists, you wonder where it leads, then about where you wish it would.
"No," you answer at last, "I suppose I don't."
If Law lets himself think about fate tying you to him with red string, it's far less romantic. But there must be something that keeps you in his orbit, silent pull to bind you to him.
It scares him. Scares him for how badly he wants to let you in, expose soft underbelly and trust you won't sink your teeth in and rip it all apart.
The push and pull is how he copes with it even though he knows it's unfair to you ㅡ taunts you with what could be, then pushes you away. Open and shut, over and over.
You're tired of it, he knows that. So he apologizes, not sure what exactly he's sorry for. Sorry that he only knows how to take and less how to give, that he only knows how to lose.
You understand that. He knows, you've told him before. But even you have your limits. "I will have you without armor, Law," you tell him, "or I will not have you at all."
He knows it isn't fair to you. But he wishes things were different, that he were different ㅡ and that when he lets himself think about that red string, it wasn't wrapped around your throat.
Law's emotions are a house of cards and his defenses a glass house ㅡ and all it takes for both to crumble is, of course, almost losing you.
It's through no fault of his own, but he still feels sick as he dabs at the blood threatening to drip down into your eye.
"What you did was beyond reckless," he scolds sharply, wraps soft worry in barbed wire, "if you'd stuck to the damn plan, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."
"Sometimes you have to improvise." He gets the feeling you're not just talking about the situation at hand, but he doesn't care to analyze it at the moment.
"Whatever. You sound like that idiot Strawhat." He wants to keep scolding you, hammer home just how dumb you've been ㅡ but you're watching him, and the thin rubberband of his patience snaps.
The kiss is far from gentle. It's messy and clumsy, tastes a little like blood and gunpowder, but that hardly matters when you're kissing him back with the same kind of desperation.
Law doesn't put much weight in the idea of soulmates. It's a romantic connection at best and baseless for proof at worst, straddling somewhere in the middle.
But he supposes he does like the idea that you've always been meant for him, and he for you ㅡ that orbit gets easier to accept when he puts it that way. Or perhaps the atoms that make the two of you up have simply existed together for long enough in the grand scheme of things to echo through, even now.
You laugh when he tells you that, reaching to tug at a lock of his unruly hair. "Putting a scientific spin on it takes the romance out of it, Law."
His eyes flick to your lips and back. "Does it matter?"
Your expression turns thoughtful. "No, I suppose it doesn't." If you want to say more, Law doesn't know because he leans in to kiss you.
Be that you're a soul split in half trying to reunite or truly woven together by a thin red string, Law doesn't know.
What he does know is that you're in his bed, kissing him back, and that's all that matters.
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i-starcreamed · 1 year
Note
could i have some angsty/comfort-ish headcanons about a gn reader who doesn’t feel like they deserve praise or affection, and tfp ratchet, knockout + breakdown (poly, if that’s okay), and starscream comforting them?
[ human!reader post includes: TFP Ratchet, Knockout+Breakdown, and Starscream
hii thanks for the request. this might be OOC and a little...idk, I'm not that good with emotions so I generally went with some things that might fit them, hopefully
TFP Ratchet
He's not a bot that's usually too affectionate, so when you express the way you're feeling he may think it's because of him. Very much in disbelief though, how can you feel unworthy of something you very much deserve?
Either way, he understands you need support when you have those moments of self-doubt
Really encourages you to talk about it if you want to, despite his gruff attitude on the exterior, with you, he patiently listens and tries to help you see your strengths and accomplishments
I mean come on, you're unlike anyone he's ever met and his favorite human + his significant other!!
Will pause anything he was doing to spend more time with you and give you the support you need. Preferably holding you near his chest, close to his spark or near his face. Generally lets you just curl up next to him
His reassuring isn't super lovey dovey but it's genuine
TFP Knockout + Breakdown
You get showered in compliments as soon as you're feeling down
Knockout is more direct and might scoff, don't be silly darling?? You're wonderful and both Breakdown and I love you,,
Breakdown agrees and gently picks you up to emphasize their point. He says you're stuck with the both of them and he wouldn't have it any other way
I feel like both of their love languages are pretty much physical affection, whether it's smothering you in robot hugs or simply vibing with you on their shoulder. To hear that you think you don't deserve it, they're in disbelief
Knockout is the busier one, constantly repairing bots in the medbay and such. Breakdown gets sent on missions too, however, they both make time out of their day to spend it with you. Not that they didn't, but they pay extra attention to their actions and make sure you're happy and secure. Insists that they'll do this for you ANYTIME!!
if someone on the Nemesis is making you feel this way, Knockout will make sure they don't wake up from their next appointment will keep you a safe distance away from them with the help of Breakdown
TFP Starscream
Not the most empathetic but he definitely gets how you feel. He probably feels the same way tbh. These are the few times where he actually acts sincere, or at least as much as he can
If you bring it up to him, he'll stay quiet and listen. Honestly, he understands how vulnerable this moment can be and will keep his comments to himself
Insists how you've not only earned his respect, but he's literally in love with you and that means so much already (he actually thinks you're great, brave and so kind to him...pls he thinks does not deserve you)
"You.. deserve all the affection I give you. And I'll make sure you get it, whether you think you deserve it or not." (he does that little awkward smile he did with knockout in that one episode idk)
Certainly isn't the most...graceful with his words but can occasionally say something genuinely sweet ^
Depending on how long you've been together, his physical affection may seem a little awkward or either very intimate. He's either barely figuring out how to hold you close or holds you up to his faceplates, servos carefully shielding you from falling somehow.
Personally he knows these things take time to get over so he reminds you that you're loved and appreciated..in his own ways
Also if these emotions/thoughts stem from someone else's faults...the revenge has already been plotted and is currently in progress
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weird-is-life · 7 months
Note
Hello loves! I really enjoy your writing and perhaps if it’s make sense could you please wrote about Aaron x Ex!Reader requited love? If you can’t it’s fine, have a nice day!<3
Hi lovely, ty for the request💕! I don't know if this is what you had in mind, but hopefully it's at least a little good, warnings: fluff, angsty, use of pet name, like one swear word (0.8k)
It was a complete coincidence, that you bumped into Aaron. You literally bumped into him, your face colliding with his chest and by some miracle you didn't spill the tea, you'd just bought all over his expensive suit.
Aaron was just as surprised to see you as you were. And he couldn't understand the weird feeling in his chest at the sight of you.
You had a similar feeling too, a breath catching at your throat as you were looking up at his handsome, slightly older than you could remember, face.
And you don't even know why, maybe it was the shock of the whole situation or maybe it was something else in you, that made you do it, but somehow you invited him out for a coffee.
And that one coffee turns into two, then three, then four, until you loose count of them and until you're spiraling back into those old, forgotten feelings.
The realisation of it takes you by a huge surprise. You weren't expecting it. It scares you, that you're feeling this way again.
You like Aaron, but you know that Jack is his priority and he probably isn't looking for a relationship, he has enough on his shoulders already.
So with every friendly coffee date your feelings grow stronger and you can't help but to worry about it. You like having Aaron back in your life, a lot actually, but you don't think you could survive being just his friend, it feels impossible.
So in your worried state, you stop responding to Aaron's texts. Yes, you know, it's not the best way to cut contact with somebody, but you don't think you'd have the strength to explain the why to him.
Aaron goes completely crazy with worry over you. You suddenly just stop responding and he doesn't know if it's because of something he did or because something's happened to you.
He hopes, it's neither.
He tries not to fret over it, but eventually the feelings get the best of him and he finds himself standing in front of your door. He stands there longer than he should, before he finally knocks.
You appear at the door just a moment later and noticing, that it's Aaron at your door, your eyes widen.
"Aaron? What are you doing here?" you debate whether you should just close the door on him and pretend to not exist.
"I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, but....I had to make sure, you were okay. You weren't responding to any of my texts." Aaron explains, his relief, at seeing that you're okay, is huge.
You don't look as happy as he does, you look like you'd rather be anywhere else, but there.
"I'm sorry," you mumble, you don't know what more to say to him, so you keep quiet and look everywhere but him.
"I'm just glad, that you're okay," he says and you almost wince, you didn't think of how much you must have scared him with the no responding, poor Aaron.
"But what's wrong?" he asks, trying to catch your gaze.
"I-I-I....I just can't do this anymore," you whisper with sorrow.
"Can't do what, huh?" Aaron asks softly, even if he's loosing his mind.
"This. Us. I-I just can't, I'm sorry," you take one look at Aaron's crushed and confused face, before your gaze is back on the ground.
Aaron baffles, he's thought, that you had a good thing going on," Did-Did I do something wrong?"
"No, it's just....," you can't find the courage to tell him the reason why.
"What's wrong?" Aaron takes a small step towards you without thinking, he's desperate to fix whatever it is going on. He likes you and he's finally let himself to feel something like this again with you, so he is super anxious about this whole situation right now.
You sigh and irrationally, you just blurt it out, "I like you, a lot, like too much, Aaron. And-and I'd love for us to be friends again. But I don't think I could survive being just your friend. I know, you're definitely not looking for a relationship right now. And I understand, but I can't just be your friend. I'm sorry."
Aaron lets you say all of your thoughts before he reacts. Halfway through your speech his confused frown turns into a smile. Because he realises, that it's just a huge misunderstanding.
"Good," Aaron's says with a smile and now you're the one being confused. What the hell does Aaron mean 'good'? You start to almost get upset before he continues.
"Good, because I don't think I could be just your friend either," he actually grins at you.
You immediately look up at him,"what?"
"I like you too, honey. And I'm definitely looking for a relationship, if it means I get to be with you," Aaron couldn't be looking at you with more heart eyes and you think, you might melt.
"Really?" you ask shyly, too scared that you're imagining this whole thing.
"Yes, really," Aaron chuckles and reaches out for your hand," so what do you say, will you give me, us a second chance after all these years?"
Aaron doesn't have to wait for an answer for too long, because your lips are on his in a matter of seconds, answering his question clearly.
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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 months
Note
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE WRITE SOMETHING WITH TOUCH STARVED WINTER SOLDIER AND MALE HANDLER READER (or stevie, whatever floats ur boat) I AM DESPERATEEEE
I've kind of written something with touch starved, early-deprogramming Bucky and Steve--"Don't Forget To Remember Me"--so, I'll go ahead with the x-reader part of this prompt here!
Mentions of HYDRA cruelty below the cut, nothing exactly "on screen." This is mostly angsty fluff, actually.
You aren't sure when it began because no matter how deeply you scrub your mind for clues, shifting through the heavy rubble of your time with "S.H.I.E.LD" going from a regular recruit to being drug into the ugly underbelly with the grimy cockroaches of HYDRA, there isn't a clear path. Perhaps it started when you were assigned the joke grunt work of waxing the asset's chest (x). Or, maybe, it really started after you had been shown to do a satisfactory enough job at stripping the asset to naked flesh, so then you were assigned to deal with the knots that had developed at the back of the asset's neck. Told to rip a wide tooth comb through its mane as the thought occurred to you that, huh, it felt a lot like when you used to have to do this for your younger sisters after a summer of wild, young shenanigans. Hollering at the top of your lungs late into the hot evenings. Swimming for hours in pools and lakes and any bodies of water you could get yourselves to, almost always with wrinkled fingertips, baths or oceans or anything just to feel the cool lapping water. Playing chase, flying out the doors of the house when your parents had finally had enough of bulls in their china shop. Running through fields into forests, racing to climbing trees and hopefully not tumble out of them and end up in a cast (again). Summers with the weather too nice and the sun staying suspended in the sky for hours, so you were too busy for silly things like brushing hair. You were only saved by the fact that your mother insisted on buzzing your hair to the scalp for summers, no need to brush that. Your sisters didn't have the luxury.
It's kind of like those times with your sisters--raking a comb through the soldier's unkept hair.
Once, with late, mature summer bleeding into gestating fall, the colors fading and muddling, you found your sisters hair had become too tangled to undo, so you complained, and your parents had made her get her hair cut. She balled her eyes out after they proclaimed it, stuttering and pleading, her thin chest heaving, just try mooore! The knots got in! They can get out! But no. They couldn't come undone. She would have to deal with it and learn to take care of her hair better or she could have her hair buzzed seasonally like you. (She was not thrilled, even if that was at a time when she looked up to you, her big brother, her hero)
Working harshly through the asset's mane is sort of like that. But not.
Really not.
You are never gentle with the soldier like you were with your baby sisters.
Left with the asset, you were instructed to tear the knots out, be as unkind (or cruel, if you like) as needed. Just get them out of the way. Tear them out. Lather them up and comb through. Buzz them off with clippers. And if the asset acts up, use a knife--it doesn't have to be just on its hair, you can't hurt it that bad, so don't think twice.
So...
Yeah, maybe it started then. Somewhere negligible and nebulous between the waxing of its chest and combing-slash-cutting of its locks.
If it started then, that would make sense, because now, whenever the soldier and you are alone for whatever reason (or nonreason), it crawls into your lap like some kind of desperate, feral raccoon. A creature that's dirty and trembling and, somehow, hungry enough to be entirely reckless, directly approaching the human who owns the trash cans it's rummaging through, trying to find anything to stuff into its mouth of rotten, putrid teeth.
And what are you to do in these times, alone with a lapful of weapon?
Typically, when it happens, the soldier seems too fragile to push away. If it is animated--thawed and moving of it's own volition--the asset is often fresh from a mission where you know it's been run ragged, barely fed, hardly given time to rest. As is protocol. So, it is fragile.
This time in particular, though, it's been so recently wiped you can still smell the sharp bleach and dull undercurrent of electricity wafting off of it, supposedly clean yet faintly fried. Acidic. Almost the smell of lazer hair removal but on steriods. Your lip curls up involuntarily at the stench. You always have a moment of hesitation when it does this. And this time is no exception.
You remind yourself that this will make your future grunt work easier. Right? That's why you accept this strange ritual. Isn't it? It's okay for you to lay your hands on the asset if it's part of your job. You will not be punished for it, nor will the asset. Right? This is just like waxing it's chest, combing it's hair, or adjusting its tac gear. Isn't it?
With it's surprisingly light weight in your lap, you do not viciously grab, digging your nails into it's flesh and scars and metal; nor do you slap or hit or pull, rather you set your hands on it's grimy, sweaty back. More evidence of it's recent wiping alongside it's still trembling muscles. Thick sweat overeating involuntary twitches so sharp it looks painful and unnatural, more like a robot jolting than an organic thing moving. Contortions. Convulsions.
With your hands on it's upper back and shoulder, the soldier makes a sound like metal creaking, bent too far, about to snap, warning the manipulator of the impending give. Shards will fly.
You do not feel threatened.
The asset is bent, nearly broken after it's mission and the maintenance after. It cannot hurt you. You could hurt it easily with its fragility and brittleness. Except, you don't intend to hurt it now or any other time when you are alone together. Instead, you allow the minutes to tick by before heavy footfalls announce the entrance of another cockroach, crawling out to shove the asset back into the freezer before scurrying away.
In your spare change minutes, you bizarrely reward the asset and it's starved raccoon behavior, rubbing the cold coins together, if the noises the soldier makes are anything to go by. Metal on metal. Rubbing. Rusty, almost whines as your hands sweep slowly down it's back, following the line of it's bent out of shape spine all the way down to the top of his tac pants that they've left on it this time.
Under your hands, it is only quivering lines of flesh, muscle, and bone shot through with harder callouses of thick scars and metal. If you go based off feeling alone, you would assume that the asset has already been broken--bent past the natural give sheet metal has to it--with all the shrapnel left in it's body. It has bent, snapped, and shattered. The feeling of the asset, by virtue of how rough and sharply-edged it is, makes your movements turn slower and even more gentle, you couldn't make your hands turn cruel if you tried.
You're nearly massaging the creature now, and you can't help but notice how cold it is as you touch it, rubbing its back, shoulders, and the nape of its neck. Every time this ritual unfurls, you notice. It is strange. Shouldn't a soldier with impeccable healing and speed and strength unfurling run much hotter? It puzzles you, but so do many of the things about the asset and the cockroaches that puppet it, crawling inside it, filling its frame with an infestation. Why does it do anything? You have no room to wonder, though, because why do you do anything they say, anyway? How did you get here? What would your baby sister's think of this? What would the wild, summer-sweetened boy you used to be think of this?
The asset creaks again, bringing you back to this ritual. It's pushing it's spasming back into your hands. You sigh, finding, feeling, a knot deep in the muscle below its metal shoulder. You are unwilling to tenderize the muscle, untangling the knot, because it would hurt. You've had deep tissue massages. They do not feel good. The mission and maintenance of the soldier are fresh in your mind and inhaled through your nostrils, so you can not bring yourself to add to its pain.
The best you can do, not adding pain, is some skin-deep soothing. Nothing more. You cannot change much. In parallel, you and the asset are stuck. What you can do is keep the asset's hair tangle-free, you can opt to shave the asset instead of wax it, and you can give into it's hunger. Sometimes. When it's safe to do so. If the cockroaches have the power to blend the soldier's brain into a slurry of nothing but obedience, they can do the same to you. If the cockroaches can twist and alter the precise balance of homeostasis to a sickly chill with injections that burn so badly inside the asset that it has to be held down, risking broken bones and torn muscles, than they can do anything. Everything.
So, shockingly, it is with a weapon lying across your lap--used against humanity as a precise knife between the ribs, slotting into the heart of men who represent hope and uprising and future--that you relocate your own organic nature. Your compassion. Your morals. Your humanness.
And if you leave the lock to the cage containing the asset for the last few hours before he goes back on ice open... that is been you and the asset you have cradled and held and come to know as organic and human despite the metal forced to be a part of him.
You can only hope the asset seizes the opportunity. A way out. The chance to reclaim the humanity it--he has been stripped of.
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