#i'm in angst mode don't mind me <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mischievousmoony · 4 months ago

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𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. your first day goes very poorly . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 5.1k

⟢ warnings: there is talk about the reader's previous hostile home environment, although it's not pictured. walburga black is implied to be mentally unstable. a theme here is the lasting impact growing up in that environment has on a person: reader fears becoming like her parents, longs for a more loving environment, doesn't handle her emotions very well, and picks fights. both anger and sadness are dealt with unhealthily by different characters. if there is anything i should add here, please please let me know.

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: well! yikes! angst! i'm not sure i like the vision but i’m trying to remind myself this is a hobby and doesn’t have to be perfect <3

“A walk?” You questioned with a raspy voice.

“Mhm,” James nodded, “Just around the yard. Think it’ll help you feel better.”

You let James lead you to the back door, hand and hand. When he opened it, you discovered that “yard” was a bit of an understatement. The Potters’ property was larger than you knew— enormous, really. Lush garden beds thrived nearest to the house, and the grassy green beyond was surely where James practiced quidditch over the summers. The large trees scattered around the outskirts of the property made you picture a younger James climbing them.

James led you into the grassy landscape, taking notice of your awestricken expression as your eyes fall on Euphemia’s garden.

“I knew you’d like it out here.”

“It’s beautiful,” you mused, stopping to admire a bed of flowers. James dipped down and plucked one from the ground.

He fit it behind your ear and winked, “Don’t tell my mum.”

You frowned, reaching up to remove the flower from your hair. You twirled it inbetween your fingers.

“Your mum must think so poorly of me now,” you muttered, staring down at the flower.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“The first thing Sirius and I did after we were invited to stay is have a screaming match in the dining room. We sure know how to make ourselves feel at home,” you laughed bitterly. “And now she knows we’re together. Didn’t even get to properly tell her. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me.”

“Hey, look at me.” James said in a stern but gentle voice. You wonder how all the Potters can sound so kind even when they’re working up to a lecture.

You peered up through your eyelashes. James sported a pretty smile, and that alone made you feel a little better.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he said, “My mum’s not one to jump to any conclusions. She trusts me, alright? And don't worry about your fight with Sirius. No one's expecting this to be easy for you. For either of you."

James continued, “Besides, we all let our emotions get the best of us sometimes, yeah? We’re human. My parents will understand.”

James could tell you over and over again that it’s okay to be angry and it’s okay to slip up, but you didn’t think any amount of it would ever make it feel okay. You wondered how he could even believe it.

It surprised you, actually, how mature and level-headed James could be. We’re human so it’s just okay if our emotions get the best of us sometimes? Who actually thinks like that?

At your house, you had to be nothing short of perfect at all times. Now that you’ve seen Fleamont and Euphemia in parent mode, you can see where James learned it all. You never had anything like that, and it was difficult to wrap your mind around it.

Especially because it wasn’t too long ago that James was one of Hogwarts’ biggest trouble makers—his pranks were the epitome of immature. Evidently, he's grown up a lot recently.

Stupidly, you felt bitter about it. Which was completely absurd, you thought. Because surely you were not jealous of your boyfriend because he learned how to regulate his emotions better than you did. Because he was growing up, maturing? And you… well you don’t know what you’re doing. You felt stuck, like you’d always be a scared little kid who needs her older brothers’ no matter how old you got.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said, not really knowing what else to say. You were compelled to change the subject, “I’m worried about Regulus.”

“I know,” James began leading you around the garden again. You dropped the flower back where it came from, not wanting to be caught red handed with a freshly murdered flower from Effie’s garden.

“We have to get him out of there,” you sighed.

James looked at you through the corner of his eye. Apprehensively, he said, “From what Sirius told me, you guys barely got out of there.”

“Yeah, so we’ll need a really good plan so that we don’t get caught.”

James turned his head to look straight at you. He looked at you like you had two heads.

“What, you want to break him out or something? You want to go back there?”

“We have to. Regulus–“

“Regulus made his choice.” James interrupted warily.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach, “Please, not you too.”

“You heard what Sirius said. Regulus was given the option, and he chose to stay behind,” James tried to reason.

James knew how much your twin meant to you, it wasn't a surprise that you'd be worried about him. But to go back to that house? That was a step too far for his comfort. The moment that Sirius admitted exactly what his mother had done to him, James knew he'd never let either of you near her again. Something must've snapped in Walburga Black— she has been teetering on the edge for years, but she has unmistakably gone from being a cruel mother to an outright unstable woman.

The though of Regulus still being around her made him sick. Even though James didn't know him that well, he still found himself caring about him. It was likely an extension of your love for Regulus manifesting in James, who cared for you so deeply that your concerns became his. But that's just it— you're the one who he really cared for. Above all else, it's you he wanted to protect.

“He did not choose to stay behind,” you raised your voice, offended that James could ever think so.

“Love...”

James didn't mean to, but he looked at you with pity in his eyes, as if he thought you were in denial.

Anger flared up in your chest when you registered his expression, “No, don’t do that. Just because Sirius said so doesn’t mean it’s true. Regulus wouldn’t just choose them over us. Sirius– he doesn't have his facts straight.”

James didn’t say anything. What could he? It sounded like you were implying that Sirius was lying and James knew Sirius wouldn't do that.

For the record, you didn't think Sirius would lie either. But he was absolutely capable of missing something.

“You don’t believe me,” your mouth hung open after your words.

“It’s not that.” James rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I believe you, but I believe Sirius too. And Sirius said that Regulus refused to come. Whatever the reason, that's the choice he made. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger for a– a lost cause.”

His words stopped you in your tracks.

“A lost cause?"

You had never been so affronted by James. He might not know Regulus nearly as well as he knows you or Sirius, but the fact that he could easily tag him as a lost cause was unbelievable.

"Don’t be an idiot, James. How could you say that?”

James had kept walking for a couple more paces, so he had to turn to face you. He tried to cover the way the venom in your voice made him flinch.

“You can’t force him to leave,” he said, sounding as understanding as he could muster, but he needed to get through to you.

Phantom alarm bells were ringing in his ears, his desperation for you to hear him growing. You were stubborn and you'd do anything for your brothers, James knows this all to well. But not this. He couldn't let you do this. He wouldn't let you go back there.

“Merlin, you’re siding with Sirius!” you accused, giving in to the anger burning in your chest.

James tried to remain calm as he spoke.

“I’m not siding with anyone.”

“Yes, you are! How could I be so stupid? Of course you’d choose Sirius over me!"

James features twist in anguish, "Love–"

"This is what I get for falling for my brother’s best friend. When there's a choice, it will always be him, won’t it?” You spat, glaring at James in a way that almost knocked him off his feet.

He was completely taken aback; you two had never fought like this. He tried to take some semblance of control over the situation, “Okay, you’re angry right now, and that’s okay–“

“Oh, would you stop that!” you shouted. A small part of you hoped the sound wouldn’t travel back to the house, but a bigger part of you was consumed with a growing rage. That part didn’t seem to care.

“Stop what?” James knitted his brows.

“Being some master of emotions all of a sudden! I’m accusing you of picking Sirius over me! I’m raising my voice at you! I’m calling you names! Why won’t you fight back? Yell at me, do something!”

James took a deep breath, “I’m not going to do that.”

He sounded completely calm and collected. Somehow, that pissed you off.

“Oh, you’re so perfect, aren’t you?”

“What?” James felt like he was going crazy, unable to decipher what he could possibly be doing wrong.

“Perfect James Potter, wouldn’t hurt a fly these days! You could never–! never lose your cool, could you?” you shouted.

James gaped at you. He couldn't be mad even if we wanted to; he was just confused. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? You yourself didn’t even seem to know what you were saying, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you said things even you knew weren’t true.

It’s not like James never lost the reign on his emotions. He throws his quidditch gear around when he loses a match, he can’t control his frustration when he doesn’t do well in class, he isolates himself when he’s sad instead facing it, he does a whole lot of things that he’s not proud of.

And you’ve seen it all before, but for some reason, you’ve chosen not to remember those moments. All you can think about is how you were so angry and scared, and he was so understanding and level-headed. And how you grew up with screaming matches and unfair punishments, and he probably got to grow up with calm discussions and soft spoken apologies. And it all felt so unfair.

“Are you–? Sorry, you're mad at me because I'm not getting mad at you? I’m sorry, I guess?”

“I don’t want you to be sorry I want you to yell at me! Be mad at me, fight with me!” You felt the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes.

James looked shellshocked. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to deal with you like this, he’s never seen this before. Sure, sometimes you bicker— all couples do— but this was reaching an uncharted territory.

"I'm not going to yell at you for wanting to keep your brother safe–"

"Then yell at me because you think I'm naive for thinking I can get him out of there. Fight with me because I think you're an idiot for thinking Regulus is a lost cause!"

You were trying to rile him up, James knew this, and he so badly wanted to not let if affect him. Not because it was making him angry, no, it was making him sad.

But he couldn't fight it.

And James always does the same thing when he's sad.

“I think we need to take a step back from this conversation. Why don’t we go inside?” James offered.

He sounded like he stole that line from some therapist's book on navigating conflict. It made you want to scream.

“You go inside! I’m going to keep walking.” You pushed past him, deliberately letting your shoulder collide with his as you stormed away.

James let the blow knock him back a step, too thrown off to do anything else. He listened to your receding footsteps and he wanted to be the type of boyfriend who runs after you when you’re upset. Who holds you and listens to you until you can work out the problem. Instead—

“Just stay by the house, okay?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever.”

A few hot angry tears slid down your face. You aggressively wiped them away and willed any more tears to dry up. You were tired of crying.

You stomped around the gardens and grass, thinking of Regulus and how he deserved better than siblings who left him behind to find refuge with a boy who wouldn't think twice about rescuing him too.

Leaving that house was something you'd always dreamed of. But you had imagined both of your brothers by your side. No one was ever supposed to be abandoned.

Sirius just didn’t understand how horrible being alone in that house was. You and Regulus had already experienced a taste of it when he went off to Hogwarts a year before you two. Not to mention, Sirius was always the strongest of you, so without him, navigating that house was a whole new terrain.

Maybe that’s what Sirius senses is different about your relationship with Regulus. Those nine months were probably the worst of your life, and Reg is who you went through them with.

And maybe that's why you were so adamant that Regulus can’t be left there alone while everyone else seems ready to abandon all hope. Your parents had never been more furious than when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor all those years ago. You suspected that they would be worse, angrier than ever after the departure Sirius orchestrated for you and him. You couldn’t let Regulus face that alone.

Somewhere along the line, worry for Regulus took precedence over the anger that held your gentle love for James hostage. By the time you came to a large trees on the outskirts of the lawn, the anger from the previous argument had simmered.

As you plopped down in the dirt and sat against its trunk, you tried not to be annoyed that taking a step away from that conversation really worked.

You took in your surroundings to distract yourself. It was to no avail, as a nearby shed caught your eye. Through its open window, you could see James’ broom and other quidditch gear.

“You idiot,” you chastised yourself aloud. You let your head fall into your hands as a million nasty thoughts about yourself raced through your mind, the most prominent being you’re just like your mother.

It was just like her to pick fights. You couldn’t breathe in that house without her telling you that you were doing it wrong. She always found something to yell at you for.

How could I act like that, you winced as you recalled the fight you just walked away from.

Poor James, who you yelled at for not being mad at you. It really was just like her to get upset over something so irrational. You felt ill over the similarity, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom.

You couldn't let yourself be doomed to your parents' fate. You wanted to be kind, reasonable, rational. So, what wouldn't they do in this situation?

A safe assumption would be that they wouldn't feel bad, so you're already on the right track it seems.

They also wouldn't apologize.

Okay, yeah. Apologize. You could apologize.

You have to apologize.

Just go apologize.

But you just couldn’t get yourself to move. You were frozen in shame for your behavior, the only movement was the rise and fall of your chest from your labored breath.

James Potter did not like feeling sad. It was unsettling, uncomfortable, so utterly unlike him.

Whenever it happened, he tried to hide from it. He'd lock himself away somewhere before he'd dare face it head on— or admit that it's there at all.

The last time he was sad, he let himself fall asleep in the common room just so he wouldn't have to face his friends back at his dorm. And when his childhood pet died, he didn't mention it for months, only alerting his friends to his cat's passing when Peter asked how old his cat was again.

It's not that James thought there was anything wrong with being sad. He definitely didn't believe in any of that nonsense that real men don't cry. In fact, he was always the first to offer his shoulder if any of his friends were upset, back pats and let-it-all-outs at the ready.

But when it was him, when he was the one with the lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach, he couldn't handle sadness anymore. It made him feel vulnerable, and he wanted to be the strong one, the brave one. The one who lights up a room with the force of the sun and brings humor and fun into everyone's days.

So, when he couldn't be that, he'd rather be alone. He'd rather sit isolated in a dimly lit room where the darkness can't touch anyone but himself.

His bed creaked under his weight as he shifted in place, the only movement he has made in several minutes.

He was trying to be still and let his mind focus on nothing but his breathing. He was especially trying not to think of your argument.

He counted out his inhales and exhales, just as he had learned years ago in divination class.

James took divination for one year only. It wasn't for him, but one thing from that class did stick with him— the lesson on mindfulness. Something about mediation and a clear head opening your mind to frequencies you may not normally be able to comprehend.

James wasn't sure about all that, but he quite liked the calmness of the exercise they did in class that day, even if he felt a bit silly doing it.

He finds himself repeating the meditation from that class when he's down. He much prefers a clear head to one with racing thoughts that give him that choked up feeling in his throat.

He was broken out of his feeble attempt at a meditative state when there was a knock at his door.

Hope swelled in his stomach. Maybe you've come to talk. Maybe he could smooth things over with you. And then he could stop feeling like this.

He tried not to look disappointed when Sirius walked through the door.

Sirius gave James a once over as the door clicked shut behind him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Me?" James forced a chuckle, "Nothing's wrong with me."

"You're sitting at the foot of your bed, starin' at the floor, shoulders slumped," Sirius' hand swept towards James' hunched form, "I know what upset looks like, Prongs."

"I'm not upset," James insisted still, "I'm just thinking. Is being lost in thought a crime these days?"

Sirius shrugged, plopping down on the bed next to James. His legs hung over the edge as he let his back hit the sheets, his arms sprawled at his sides.

James listened as Sirius puffed out a long, exhausted breath.

"You alright?" James asked, not bothering to look back, letting his sad eyes remain fixed on the floor.

"Ah, I see. Worried about me, are you?" Sirius guessed.

James seized the opportunity to excuse his demeanor. Besides, he wanted to talk about what Sirius had said earlier anyway.

"You did have a pretty nasty spat with your sister. And then you nearly collapsed."

There's a lull in the conversation for a moment as Sirius thinks.

"Your parents fixed me right up again. Gave me some nasty potion to help with the dizziness. Tasted like sewage but 'm good as new. They're off now, by the way, picking up some herbs they want to steep and feed me for these spasms I keep having in my hands."

James winced. Spasms, a potential side effect of being under the Cruciatus Curse.

"Sirius... about what you said happened. Your mother–"

"I don't want to talk about that," Sirius spoke quietly, somberly.

After a moment, Sirius added, "I don't want to think about any of them ever again."

James felt a pang in his heart, knowing Regulus was included in 'them'. You wouldn't have stood for it if you'd heard Sirius say that.

James' mind wanders back to your earlier argument, his earlier attempts to avoid these thoughts futile now. You were so adamant that you needed to go back for Regulus, ready to dive into some sort of escape plan, and that still scared the hell out of James.

He considered telling Sirius about what you wanted to do. One on hand, he knew Sirius would be on board with keeping you the hell away from there— keeping you safe. On the other hand, it felt like tattling on you to your brother.

James thought about the betrayal written across your face earlier. How hurt you were when you suspected James was choosing to believe Sirius over you. Confiding in Sirius now would surely, surely make it worse. And James didn't want to hurt you.

And yet—

"Thing is... I have to talk to you about something. About your sister... and about Regulus."

A flinch finally broke you out of your statue-like state when a sudden and distinct fluttering sounded above you. You expected to see any mundane bird when you looked up, but there was nothing there. You leaned around the tree to try to locate the source.

Instead of any random creature of flight, it was a familiar owl. And he was not in the tree, rather next to it, in a designated perch located on the other side of the thick trunk.

"Oh. Hello," you greeted the owl. He stared at you blankly, of course.

You've met this owl before. His name was Glory. You didn't know why, but James had named him, and you supposed that it was a name that James would have thought of.

You've received countless letters from James, all delivered by Glory. There were the long ones, which you mostly received during the times you were apart. Glory was good at discretely delivering them to your window. And if James also had mail for Sirius, he knew to deliver yours first.

James was always checking up on you over the holidays, making sure you were okay and telling you stories of his own time at home that would take your mind off of whatever horrible things were going on at Grimmauld Place.

When you were together, back at Hogwarts, James still sent you little notes whenever you weren't near. He knew how much you loved receiving notes from him, so he made it a habit. He would send notes about things he saw that reminded him of you, expressions of how much he missed you even if he'd seen you mere hours prior, declarations of love that he couldn't keep inside until the next time he'd be alone with you.

Oh, your sweet boy.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" You asked Glory. You chided yourself for continuing to try to talk to an owl. Not that owls weren’t smart. In fact, they were very intelligent, especially the magical sort. Glory could understand you, but it’s not like he had the ability to respond.

You imagined that Glory would tell you that you messed up big time if he did, though.

You pushed yourself up to your feet, wiping dirt and twigs off your pants when you rose. As you walked back towards the house, you wondered if your mother ever felt sorry like this, if she ever wanted to apologize sometimes. Surely, at some point she did. James' words come back to you about how we're all human, and you want to believe that maybe there was a memory lost in your mind of her apologizing to you.

You'd have been a wide-eyed little kid at the time, snot-nosed and teary-eyed after she yelled at you for spilling milk or leaving a toy in the middle of the floor. She'd wrap her arms around you and apologize for raising her voice. Then she'd shush and coo soothingly until your tears dried up and you could show her all of your baby teeth in a wide grin.

It was unnatural, the image of her in your mind like that, but your heart burned for it to be real. As sick as it was, you still yearned for your mother's love, even if it was a thing of the past.

Maybe your house really was a poison. Because if she had ever been gentle, one way or another, Walburga Black got colder and harsher over the years. She spiraled so deep into darkness that she seemed to want to be cruel. After all, to cast the Cruciatus Curse, you do have to really want it.

Each step you took was invigorated with a new sense of determination. Apologizing to James now, owning up to your mistake, it was only the first step of doing everything in your power to never be anything like that woman.

It felt like no time passed at all by the time you arrived outside of James' door. You didn't feel ready to face him, but you raised your fist anyway. Just when knuckles were about to meet wood, you heard a muffled voice from inside.

"What do you think?" James' voice asked softly. Then, after a beat of silence, "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, James, I heard you," Sirius said. He had that far away kind of tone in his voice he gets when he's trying to distance himself from his emotions.

"And?"

"And I'm bloody tired of talking about him!" Sirius barked. Even from the safety of the other side of the door, you flinched.

"She doesn't get it. She'll never get it because it's him," your brother continued. "If she had known he wasn't coming she probably wouldn't be here either. If it's a choice, it'll be him over me in a heartbeat. He could've done the bloody spell on me himself and she'd still choose him. Merlin, she could've done the bloody spell if he asked her to."

If felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You bit your tongue until you drew blood, fighting the urge to cry out, as if Sirius' words physically wounded you.

Rationally, you knew that Sirius was just angry, that he didn't mean it. But the rational side of your brain hasn't been winning many battles today.

You vaguely heard James tell Sirius not to say things like that as you backed away from his door until you met the wall behind you with a thump.

There was silence from inside James' room for mere seconds before the door was ripped open. Sirius stood in the doorway, James behind him. You couldn't read your brother's expression, there barely was one. How typical of him to hide behind a blank stare.

You, however, were wide eyed with a hand clamped over your mouth, leaning against the wall behind you, sure you'd collapse without its support.

Sirius began to say your name and suddenly your hand was gone and the words were tumbling from your lips.

"How could you say that?" Your voice was strained, "I wouldn't ever do that– He wouldn't ever do that!"

Sirius' eyes bore into yours but he didn't say anything. You wished you could tell what he was thinking under that stupid mask of his.

"I shouldn't have to tell you over and over again that I love you both. You are both my brothers, you both mean the world to me. It's so irrational and– and foolish to worry about a choice that I'd never–"

You cut yourself off. The irony of being so hurt by Sirius' words were not lost on you. You had only just been accusing James of choosing Sirius over yourself.

"No, that's not true," Sirius bit back, "because that choice is upon you now. So, go ahead. Let's see if you can surprise me."

"What?"

"Choose me, stay here where it's safe. Choose Regulus, go right ahead and try to be his jailbreak. But when you can't convince him to leave, when he refuses, I won't be surprised when you choose to stay there too."

Your eyes flashed to James, who looks way too shameful for you to not put two and two together. You were conflicted; feelings of regret over accusing James of choosing Sirius over you were mixing with feelings of betrayal that James had ran right to Sirius with your words.

You'd let the guilt and betrayal sink in and shred you to pieces later. You had Sirius to deal with first.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed. "How could you be so dim? Wanting our brother to be safe does not mean I'm choosing him over you."

"Color me unsurprised!" Sirius yelled, looking smug.

Your eyes began to burn, "Fuck you, Sirius!"

James tries to interrupt, "Er, hey, maybe we should–"

"Don't you dare tell me we need to take a step back from this conversation, James!"

James' mouth clamped shut.

"Don't yell at him!" Sirius squawks.

"You want to talk about choosing one person over another? Let's talk about it. Don't pretend you haven't given up on Regulus ever since you met his shiny new replacement!"

You'd feel real shitty about saying that in front of James later; the look on his face at your words was already burned into your memory.

"Don't turn this on me!" Sirius shouted.

"You're such a hypocrite. And an imbecile for thinking I care about you any less than Regulus. Of course I care about you both the same. And you may not believe it, but Regulus cares about you too!"

"That's–"

"I don't want to hear it," you interrupted, "I'm done. Say it James."

James looked like a deer in headlights, "What?"

"Say the thing!" you shouted.

"We need to take a step back from this conversation?"

Your arms flew up, gesturing towards James as you stared Sirius down with an exasperated look on your face. Your brother scoffed and stormed down the hall, disappearing to anywhere else in the Potters' home.

For a moment it was just you and James in the hall. Your eyes met and he looked anguished and far too apologetic. You knew that you were supposed to be the apologetic one, and you felt your heart begging you to let the sorrys loose.

It was too bad that the betrayal started settling in before the guilt.

"Sirius was right before. You are a snitch."

With that, you slipped back into your room and let the door slam shut behind you.

James remained in the hall for a moment longer, not knowing who to follow. He should follow one of you.

Instead, he decided to retreat back to his bedroom.

James wanted to be alone again.

223 notes · View notes

buckgasms · 3 months ago

Note

I realise that this might not be soemthing your interested in writing (and that's ok ily). Just wanted to tell you that after finishing the Dark mafia bucky (not bunny and clyde) I cannot stop thinking about how angsty it could get after the last main part.

Like i, myself, would not be able to handle that shit mentally. Like Reader staying in the bedroom all day because she's so worried and paranoid about soemone seeing her and laughing or soemthing after her... time... with bucky at work. Everytime bucky comes home minory upset or angry she goes into defence mode because she's worried he thinks she has betrayed him again. She can't sleep without him hugging her because all she can imagine is that somehow Rumlow survived and is gonan come kill the both of them.

I'm sorry I love in angst central sometimes <3

Thank you nonnie ilyt 😍 You are so spot on with this 👌🏼

Here is the link to the very dark fic if you are interested

Yeah I think his little bird is going to be so nervous from now on, but I think Bucky would be ok with it you know?

Like he doesn't mind if you don't wanna leave the house because it means he knows where you are and he can watch you on his cameras like a crazy man.

And imagine if his little bird is in his office you always dash under the desk when anyone comes in so you don't have to face them. He chuckles and strokes your hair as you cling to his leg. You sometimes watch as he pulls his cock out of his trousers under the desk and take it in your hand to give you something to focus on.

When you do have to face them you can't work out if they are thinking about it or not. Thinking about how you looked that day, how they applauded and jeered at you, now smiling and being somewhat respectful. It makes you cling to Bucky closer and press your face into his arm or chest for comfort. Your face burns when they chuckle at you, but at least Bucky holds your tighter.

🐦

I think any time he's angry you go very defensive and jumpy. Normally when he's angry he gets it out at work or the gym, so he only comes home really angry very rarely.

You shuffle around the house as you hear him shouting down the phone, slamming doors and all sorts. You plant yourself on the floor where he sits on the sofa, having left your dress on the floor and you shiver in your underwear.

Finally he appears and finds you waiting then for him and be flops down on the sofa and smiles. "Ah there's my little bird, waiting just for me huh?"

You nod and rest your arms on his thighs, smiling up at him, letting him stroke your face and run his fingers through your hair. "Thought you might have had a bad day?" You say softly and gently massage his legs, hands drifting higher, making him sigh.

"You worrying about me birdie? Did I make you nervous?" He smiles and pinches your chin pulling you forwards until you are straddling his lap, his hands squeezing at your waist.

"Hmm, tell me baby, you feeling nervous again?"

You nod and nibble at your finger, sitting down more comfortably on his lap, eyes stinging a little bit. "Don't want you to be mad..." You whisper, as he grips your face between his big hands.

"I'm not mad anymore baby, remember. It's all fixed. All fine now..." He smiles gently, stroking your cheeks and leaning upwards to press little kisses to your nose and cheeks.

You let out a shaky sigh and smile at him, but your heart still hums quickly in your chest.

🐦

You do often wake in the night, screaming, reliving that night where you pulled the trigger. Your body covered in sweat and hands shaking as you struggle to see anything in the darkness.

"Ssshh baby it's ok" you hear Bucky murmur as he pulls you in close to him, letting your sobs wrack through your body. "I gotcha."

"What if he comes back?" You sob as your fingers cling to the thick muscles of Bucky's back, fingers tracing along old scars.

"Ain't gonna happen pretty girl, I promise..."

He rolls over until he's on top, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark see his serious blue eyes staring at you. "He's never gonna come back, and you are safe with me, ok?"

You nod and let him press kisses to your forehead and you cling to him tighter still. You feel his hand wrap around your thigh and lift it higher. His cock is guided into your heat and you gasp as he slides himself slowly into you.

You still feel sensitive from the evenings escapades but that's what helps him glide into you, your body so responsive. "Good girl, always ready for me hmm? You feel that? Feel how easily you take me?"

Your body feels on fire as he gently rocks into you. He presses kisses to your face, licking away tears as you groan.

"My baby, you got nothing to worry about anymore. Just relax, just let me make it all better ok?"

🐦

Ooof yes very angsty but I'm a sucker for a happy ending so I feel like they'll work it out 🤭

#dark bucky x reader #dark mafia bucky #mafia!bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine

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saekkas · 1 year ago

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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary: in a different universe, michael kaiser comes home to you, and every single hardship he's endured has meaning when you wrap your arms around him. in this one, he has only himself to blame for when his house becomes a shadow of the home he used to live in.

tags: f!reader, kissing, angst (minimal comfort), lovers to strangers, neglectance, second chances, fools gold.

wc: 1.8k

notes: inspired by an angsty ask @mirahua sent that's been plaguing my mind for the past week. also, my debut as an angst writer so pls go easy on me ಥ_ಥ and the tags kind of sort of don't make sense, forgive me for that </3

"i'm home," kaiser whispers, opening the door to his apartment only to click it shut a few seconds later, his eyes fighting to keep themselves open.

he leans against the door, taking in the wide space. everything's dark and still, there are no signs of life, as to be expected when one comes home at 4AM.

he sighs, passing by the books and empty mug you must've used earlier in the day. some of his stuff is cluttered around yours, like the small sanrio plushies he bought with you only months ago. they occupy the sofa along with your pillows, and he smiles sadly at the sight. where did the time go?

even with so many trinkets and things littered around, his house feels empty. lonely as if no one's lived in it for weeks and months. his steps falter as he enters the kitchen to find a portion of a home-cooked meal, sitting on his favorite plate. it's cold but it still glows with the warmth and love you prepared it with.

he sighs once more, rubbing his hand across his face. putting the meal into the fridge with shaky hands, kaiser's quick to drop onto one of the chairs.

he stops for a second, looking around his house, the place he's lived in for the past 3 years. something's changed within the space, like there's an object that doesn't belong between the four walls. deep in his heart, kaiser wonders if it's him.

fishing his phone from his pocket, he takes in the messages that start to trickle onto the screen. it's been on airplane mode the whole day, a habit he needs to break, you've once told him.

his thumb lingers above your contact.

scrolling through, his eyes take in every single text you've sent him dating from months back. he sees the way they started; love filled descriptions of your days mixed in with questions about his own. reading the text you've sent today, he feels a pang go through him at the lone message. good night. get home safe. nothing else.

his hand clenches around the table, sadness turning into guilt that spreads like a plague when he realizes he's barely replied back to any.

this has been his life for the last 9 months. he wakes up, leaves for practice, comes back sometime around dawn, only to repeat the next day. his muscles scream at him every second, his shoulders groaning under the weight of exhaustion. it's the price one has to pay for the fame and fortune, kaiser tells himself.

self-assured as he makes himself out to be, kaiser isn't stupid enough to leave things all to fate. he may be a star striker now, one that has everyone vying for his time and attention, but who knows what will come in the next few years.

there will always be new talent, people with incredible skills and the greed to propel them into stardom. into taking his place. he knows because he's seen it before. been it before.

as the clock sounds to signal a new hour, his vision starts to blur. everything is starting to feel foggy, his head pounding and body screaming at him for sleep. he can't quite grasp anything. not when there's a distance separating him and the world around him.

"mihya?" comes your voice, soft and slightly raspy. kaiser snaps back into focus, the ringing in his ears dulling into background noise. "you're home."

"hi, baby." you're swaying on your feet, one of his shirts around your body. he recognizes it to be one of his favorites and he almost chuckles at the sight if not for the lump that's appeared in his throat. "shouldn't you be asleep? did i wake you up? i'm sorry if i did.'"

the first thing that comes to mind is how delicate you look. as if one wrong move, one wrong word is going to push you into a shell. he takes in everything about you, starting from the messiness of your hair to the slump of your shoulders.

he hasn't seen you. hasn't had the opportunity to breathe you in like he used to. those night when he traced every single one of your features, giggling loudly with you in the dead of the night seem so far away now.

he misses it, those moments you shared from who-knows how many nights ago.

when you rub the sleep out of your eyes, looking at him with a small smile, his trance breaks. he takes in the distance between you both, like a chasm that's gaping and mocking him because he was the one who let it widen this far.

"you didn't. i just needed to pee," you say, tone just barely above a whisper. there's something floating between you two, the things unsaid. you're afraid they'll come pouring out if you break the silence. "how was practice?"

kaiser realizes, even when you're right in front of him, your presence feels like a ghost. hesitant, locked up into a small ball of a person that's only being held together by hope and love, no matter how small.

"i'm sorry i didn't reply to your text." the words pour out of him like a waterfall, blunt and bruising. i'm sorry i haven't been with you. his eyes trace your form, and he sighs, moving to engulf you into his arms. "practice was.. busy."

please don't leave. please tell me that this is enough. that i'm enough.

"it's okay. i'm used to it." your tongue slips and you sigh as he wraps around you. it feels foreign, his touch. like he's not exactly the same person he used to be, but neither are you. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

kaiser can only clench his eyes. he leans his head down to press a kiss to your forehead. "i know, it's okay. and i'm sorry."

i'm sorry i haven't been there for you. i'm sorry i haven't taken you out on another date. i'm sorry that i'm selfish and all i know is to take and take. i'm sorry that it's leaving you hollow and bruised. i'm sorry my love isn't enough.

the thoughts swirl, pinging around like warning signals going off in his head. he opens his mouth, only to close it right after. "let's go to bed."

even when the softness of his duvet embraces him, kaiser can't relax. his body stays stiff, timid as he waits for you to settle beside him. when you do, he's slow to reach out, placing a hand on your hip to test the waters.

he relaxes when you mold into his form, curling around his body as if he's never done any wrong. he presses you hard against his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

he doesn't get to hold you like this anymore. between practice and exhaustion, whenever his head hits the pillow, he's out like a light. he misses the intimacy, the feeling of having someone beside him.

"do you think about me?" he hums, asking you the question. his hands nestle around your waist and back. he breaths in your scent, his body finally letting the coils of his muscles loose. "because it feels like i think about you every minute."

you respond in kind, caressing the hand that's nestled on your waist. you don't say anything. you don't need to, not when you let him kiss you for the first time in months.

"you know i love you right?" he whispers. there's nothing but him, him, him. you're surrounded by his presence, his touch is everywhere, and there's barely an inch between where you lay. his hair tickles your cheek, the faded blue molding into blonde. "and you know that i would never want to hurt you?"

you should know better. you wish your heart wouldn't give in so easily. you're nothing but an ordinary girl from humble backgrounds while the man wrapped around you is a shooting star that landed on your palm on a rainy summer day.

you should know better because shooting stars fade away.

"do you really?" you whisper, drained and tired out of your mind. "because you've done nothing but hurt me, mihya."

he isn't surprised by your words, but the truth stings all the same. he sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. the weight is back on his shoulders, his head starting to spin as he takes your words in.

"i promise i'll be better," he whispers back, pleading as he looks down into your eyes with tears lined in his. "why don't i take you on a date tomorrow? to that place you've been wanting to go."

"mihya," you trail off, shaking your head. "i-"

"i'll buy you flowers. i'll come home from practice early. we'll drive to the restaurant together." michael kaiser is nothing but greedy. the words that are flowing out are rushed, and his voice cracks under his own emotions. he'll say anything. he'll take and take, if it means he'll get you to stay. "you mean everything to me. i can't lose you."

you don't reply, not for a long time after. looking into his eyes, you process every bit of guilt and hope he has strewn inside. you wonder if they're enough to fix whatever's left.

"okay," you say with a hesitant nod of your head. "one last chance."

kaiser's eyes light up, brightening his whole visage.

"thank you." he kisses you, deep and passionate. there's nothing but you and him in the moment and as you fall asleep, kaiser whispers against your ear, placing gentle kisses on your cheek, wishing they'll be enough to take back every ounce of hurt he's given you. "i love you."

the next morning, kaiser leaves with a light heart and a kiss on his cheek. his steps are confident, his eyes bright. there's nothing in his head except for you and your date. he hums to himself, letting his thoughts roam about your reaction for when he surprises you with flowers when he gets home.

and yet, the universe is a cruel thing and so is his greed. kaiser loses himself in his practice, scoring goal after goal even as his phone rings. he doesn't see your texts of "mihya, don't forget our date tonight! can't wait!" "mihya, what should i wear? should we match?" "mihya it's getting late, where are you?" nor does he see the multiple missed calls you leave.

and when he gets home, soaked in rain with wilted flowers in his hand, kaiser is greeted by the sight of a truly empty house. your warm presence is gone, taking every moment of happiness with you.

he has only himself to blame for every single self-destructive habit that's led to him losing the one he calls home.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser x reader #blue lock angst #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser angst #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x female reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock headcanons #kaiser angst

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vyntilador · 2 years ago

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Love talk

What are the boys' love languages?

——————————

Genre: Pure fluff<33 except for Luke's part kinda angst

GN!Reader for my besties out there<3

Might make an nsfw of this👀

Luke Pearce

Acts of service/Physical touch

Honestly tho, seeing how he hasn't seen you in like 8 years, I'd think that he'll be clingy by that point like,,, imagine a koala clinging into u😭😭😭

He'll call you over or he'll be the one to come to ur apartment just to cuddle and stuff. You don't even need to talk, he just needs to have you in his arms in a reassuring manner. When you cuddle too while sleeping, your soft breathing and the slow rise and fall of your chest just calms him down so much.

Especially during nights where he gets nightmares about how one day, with you being in the NXX and having to deal with dangerous deeds, he's afraid that he'll lose you. It's during those nights where he holds you tighter against him in a desperate effort to convince himself that you're safe and sound.

If he wakes up and you're not in bed or smthn like that, he's mildly panicking. He shoots up from the bed and is immediately running around yo apartment looking for you only to find you cooking breakfast in the kitchen. The moment he sees you humming whilst cooking with a cute lil apron on, a relaxed smile shows on his face and he slowly walks towards you to hug you from behind<3333

Sometimes with that in mind, he looks out for you a lot during missions. Don't get him wrong; he trusts you but he can't help but have these lingering fear of losing you. The moment that he hears you yelp in pain, he immediately runs over towards you asking what's wrong. Imagine you like trip on a tree root or smthn or stubbed your toe somewhere or had a little cut somewhere.

Poor boy goes mom mode and immediately scolds you gently while tending to you<33 (would def give a soft kisses to wherever u were hurt #lukebestboy)

OH AND WHILE CUDDLING, HED DEFINITELY WHISPER "I love you.." WHILE HAVING HIS FACE BURRI3D IN YOUR NECK OH MYGODDDDDDD

Vyn Richter

Gift giving/Words of affirmation

LOOK AT ME IN MY GOD DAMNED EYES AND TELL ME HE WONT BE OT THERE COMPLIMENTING YOU ON A DAILY BASIS???????

You could be out there, literally just making tea for him and suddenly, the moment he takes a sip, you'd hear that annoyingly gentle voice of his going "You always make the most exquisite tea, My love."

YALL WANNA KNOW WHATS WORSE??? HES SO SUBTLE WITH IT BUT AT THW SAME TIME, HES NOTTTTT

Working from home and ur like sat on ur bed, working on some documents for the lawfirm with Vyn right next to you, just silently admiring you your work and the moment you're done, you show it to him then he turns to look at you with the most amazing, spectacular, breath taking, amazing, beautiful, alluring, jaw dropping, fancy, handsome, soft, gentle, sweet smile of his then he opens his mouth to say, "You did it so perfectly. I'm proud of you."

(this def isnt me just indulging myself into some1 that can actually praise me properly no,,)

On bad days where you just feel like shit, he's immediately off to his garden to pick the most BEAUTIFULLY PERFECT rose he sees and gives it to you with some chocolates and a little teddy bear

When you ask him what are those for he just says "You looked a bit...out of it so I thought that I can give these to you to cheer you up."

An absolute fucking sweetheart nobody talk to me omfg

I personally think he'll do acts of service too like, imagine having just opened your eyes after a good night's sleep and immediately smelling the most delicious smell you've ever smelled then seeing Vyn sitting beside you with a tray of food.

"Good morning, my rose. I wanted you to rest more since you seemed tired last night so I made some breakfast for you:]"

Please praise him too sometimes. He's a huge perfectionist and sometimes feels like he isn't good enough for u so having u reassure him that he's more than enough is just enough to make the poor bby melt</3

*cough* vyn praise kink *cough*

Artem Wing

Words of Affirmation/Acts of service(gift giving)

The absolute KING of acts of service n words of affrimation

He sees you working hard while going to the pantry to get some coffee even tho he has a coffee maker in his office, he's quick to be like "Here's some coffee. You've been doing well these days. Remember to take a few breaks, okay?"

Cue Celestine rubbing her temples in disappointment with Artem bcs wtf,,, did he rlly just gift COFFEE to his crush?? 😭😭 Celestine's on the move to save the day and convince Artem to actually buy u roses or smthn else appropriate for a courting gift💀

Or in that one card, (in sickness or in health(?)) yall saw how Artem literally, with no hesitation, took it upon himself to take care of u??? Husband material frfr

So imagine the same thing happens like,, during field work, the heel of ur shoe broke or to make it more GN, your shoe just broke like, the sole broke off, or it was raining and it made yo shoe very slippery, imagine the worried look on his faceee:((

He'll stop walking and look at you saying, "Should we go back first? I don't think that you'll be able to move around like that...Not that I think that you'll be a burden—"

POOR BLUSHY BBY JUST HAVING A HARD TIME TO EXPRESS HIS FEELINGS

"No, don't move." *proceeds to take off own shoes but u fortunately stop him in time* "Why?:(" If u refuse his offer of his shoes, he'll then try to be more bolder like, one moment you were just looking at him and moments later, you're suddenly in the air and in his arms.

Celestine hiding in the shadows talking through a walkie talkie with mama wing being like "mission accomplished.😎"

Marius von Hagen

Physical touch/Quality time

Another huge clingy baby🕴️

Being a CEO of a large company and still studying takes up A LOT of his time so whenever he has time, he immediately spends it with u<33

He wouldn't care about whatever you were doing in the first place, he's immediately waltzing into ur apartment like its the most natural thing in the world (it is) and just plop down in bed with you.

Yknow, I kinda think that hes an all-around kinda guy with this love language thing. Like, he'll sometimes discreetly paint/draw you and would give it to you, if youre feeling down or just tired with his bs, hes wasting no time to immediately pamper you with kisses and whisper sweet nothings in ur ear

If you give him a gift, he'll absolutely cherish it like it's a multimillion dollar treasure (doesnt even matter what u gave him, you could give this dumbass a rock and he'd cry tears of joy)

Give him a single pebble and hes looking at you like "��" and saying "For me???🥺"

Yeah so all in all, he's just a 6ft bby that would absolutely spoil the living SHIT out of you bcs u deserve it<3 (congrats on bagging a billionaire bestie)

*ehem* i rlly wanna add a slight nsfw so ill make it on a diff part or smthn it's currently wip so ill link it here whem it's done *ehem*

#tears of themis #luke pearce #luke pearce x mc #luke pearce x reader #vyn richter #vyn x reader #vyn richter x reader #artem wing #artem x mc #artem x you #marius von hagen #marius x mc #marius x reader

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sidekick-hero · 5 months ago

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Here it is, the next chapter of my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai 💜💜💜 Her prompt was 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone'. Shout out to @acasualcrossfade for being the best beta reader there is!

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 3 (4.7k) under the cut

Luck is on his side because Eddie is home. He looks like Steve just woke him up—pillow crease on his cheek, hair a mess, and his face softer than usual, making him look younger.

It's a sweet sight, one Steve might get used to if they actually move in together. For the first time, the thought doesn't fill him with dread and sadness about losing Robin as a roommate.

"Steve?" Eddie asks, blinking in confusion. "Birdie's not here, sorry." He sounds half-asleep, his words slightly slurred.

Of course, Eddie would think he was looking for Robin. Despite what Chrissy and Robin say, Steve and Eddie getting married will change things. Like, Steve will start seeking Eddie's company and they'll spend time alone without their friends as buffers.

"No, I know she's at work. I wanted to talk to you. I texted you that I was coming over."

Eddie’s face lights up with understanding. "Oh, sorry, my phone's in sleep mode. Had a late shift at the bar and only got home around 2. Then I had to open the garage because Bernie sprained his ankle, so I was catching up on some sleep."

"Ah, shit, I'm so sorry, man," Steve apologizes quickly, wincing. "I didn't mean to wake you. It's not that important, go back to sleep, we can talk tomorrow or—"

Eddie cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. "No, no, it's okay, really. Come on in. You couldn't have known, and I should get up anyway if I don't wanna mess up my sleep rhythm."

Steve snorts. "From what I hear, you have as much of a sleep rhythm as Robin has a brain-mouth filter."

"You wound me, Harrington. Just because it's eclectic doesn't mean there's no rhythm. My sleep schedule is more jazz than pop."

Steve chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Eddie steps aside with a playful swat to Steve’s shoulder. “I feel like you’re not taking me seriously here.”

Steve only hums in response, so Eddie changes the topic. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

They move into the kitchen, and Steve takes a seat at the highbar Chrissy and Eddie installed two years ago. Steve remembers helping with that project, along with Eddie’s friend Jeff. It was a fun afternoon—just them chatting, sharing a big pizza, and working with their hands. It shouldn’t have surprised Steve that Eddie was good with his hands. After all, he’s seen him play guitar and mix drinks expertly when he bartends. He also knows Eddie makes most of his money fixing cars and motorbikes at a friend’s garage.

Still, seeing Eddie aptly handling tools and oiling up the wood had been… an experience. One he had revisited in his mind more than once when he couldn’t sleep and was too weak to fight off the urge any longer to jack off to thoughts of his friend.

“Earth to Steve, do you copy?”

Eddie’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he realizes Eddie is now standing much closer than before.

“Uh… sorry, I zoned out. What did you say?”

“I,” Eddie starts, speaking slowly and deliberately, “asked if you wanted a coffee. And before that, I asked what you wanted to talk about. You haven’t answered either question, so here’s a third: Is everything alright?”

Eddie's probably joking, but he sounds a bit worried, so Steve musters a mostly sincere smile.

“Yeah, man. I’m good. Just… it’s been a long day. Long days. Coffee sounds good, I haven’t slept much.”

“Sure, coming right up.”

Steve watches as Eddie prepares their coffees, his thoughts drifting again as he watches Eddie’s surprisingly broad back move under his worn t-shirt. It looks soft and thin, sporting a couple of holes, and looking incredibly comfy. He idly wonders how it would feel to wrap his arms around Eddie’s tiny waist from behind, pressing his front against Eddie’s back, with his chin hooked over Eddie’s bony shoulder and his cheek against Eddie’s.

It’s a nice thought.

“Your coffee, my liege.”

A cup of coffee appears in front of Steve, startling him out of his daydreams about Eddie. It's the second time he's drifted off today, and he really needs to get his act together.

“Thanks, man. Do you have some milk?”

“Already added it. Two sips, no sugar, right?”

And, yeah, that’s exactly how Steve takes his coffee. He just had no idea Eddie knew that too.

His surprise must be obvious because Eddie's ears turn red. He hides his mouth behind a strand of hair and mumbles, “Just noticed you always make it like that.”

Steve's heart skips a beat. It's a small thing, but it means a lot to know that Eddie is paying so much attention to him, even if it's just as confusing as the time Eddie decided to fall on his own ass to save Steve's birthday cake. Or the time he drove over to Steve and Robin's apartment to make sure Steve had actually turned off the stove that morning because everyone else was at work.

It doesn't fit with the way he rebuffed every attempt by Steve to get to know him better when they first met. Or this conversation he overheard between him and Chrissy about two months after Robin and Chrissy started dating. The one where Eddie had asked why Robin was always bringing that rich asshole jock over.

Everything about Eddie keeps confusing him, making the conversation he needs to have with him even harder, so he takes a sip of coffee to buy some time.

It's good, strong but not bitter, and just the right amount of milk. He hums appreciatively. "Thanks, Eddie. It’s perfect."

Eddie smiles shyly and sits across from Steve, cradling his own mug. "So, what's up, man? It seemed pretty urgent when you knocked on my door."

Steve takes a deep breath, knowing he has to get this right. "I, uh, told Max and Dustin about us. You know, the whole fake engagement thing. Only, I didn’t tell them it’s fake, obviously."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? And how'd they take it?"

"Well, they believed it. Max was cool about it," Steve lies, remembering how serious Max got about his issues, something he doesn't want to unpack right now. "And Dustin... well, he was a little hurt we didn't tell him sooner, but he's on board. He'll be a groomsman, just FYI." Steve pauses, rubbing his neck nervously. "The thing is, I kind of told them a story about how we got together. And I'm not sure it matches what you've been telling people.”

Eddie's eyes widen in amusement. "You made up a story? This I gotta hear."

Steve groans but feels a bit relieved that Eddie seems cool about it. “Okay, so… it had to be convincing. Max and Dustin have known me forever, so they know that I’m someone who,” Steve pauses, feeling vulnerable admitting he falls fast and hard, an incurable romantic at heart.

“Someone who…” Eddie prompts.

“Someone who usually rushes headfirst into relationships. I hook up a lot, but when I date, I fall pretty fast. Robin says I have a trigger-happy heart, whatever that means.” He knows what it means, and that Robin’s right, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that. “So I told them I had a crush on you but wasn’t sure how you felt until a movie night, where we both reached for the chips and our fingers touched, then we kissed, and the rest is history. I proposed pretty fast after that, too, because I wanted to put a ring on the guy I had been crushing on for so long. They ate the story right up.” Steve adds the last part hastily, realizing how cliché it sounds.

Eddie laughs, shaking his head. "I can't believe they just bought it like that, it sounds like something straight out of a romcom. But you know what? I kinda love it."

Steve feels almost dizzy with relief. "You do?"

"Yeah, it's cute. And I haven't told anyone yet, so we can stick to your story."

Steve lets out a sigh of gratitude for Eddie’s easy acceptance before the implications of what Eddie just said sink in.

"You haven't told anyone yet?"

The hurt in his voice is more obvious than he wants it to be, but he can't help but wonder why Eddie wouldn't tell anyone. Sure, it's not like they're in a real relationship, but it still feels like Eddie's ashamed of him or something. Deep down he knows that he's way too invested, but it's hard not to get caught up in it all.

Eddie must have heard it too, because his eyes soften as they search his face. "No, not yet. I... wasn't sure you wouldn't take it back, to be honest. And I didn't want to have to explain to people why I told them I was getting married and then had to say 'oops, my bad, never mind', y'know?"

There's some color in Eddie's cheeks and he's fiddling with his rings, his eyes darting away from Steve's. He grabs Eddie's hand and stops him from twisting his thumb ring.

"You really thought that? But - why? I mean, if anyone was going to take it back, I thought it would be you. You're doing me a huge favor here, in case you've forgotten."

Eddie's hand feels warm in his, the skin under his palm softer than he expected. He squeezes it to emphasize his words and desperately wants to give in to the urge to caress his knuckles with his thumb, too.

He doesn't, figuring it's a line he shouldn't cross.

"I told you, I don't mind. And I get something out of it too, so it's not like you're twisting my arm or anything. I guess it's just hard for me to believe that someone like you would want to marry someone like me. Even if it's a scam."

"You mean someone who's a rich asshole jock?" Steve asks, his voice bitter as he remembers Eddie's words to Chrissy.

Eddie's eyes widen in obvious surprise. "What? No! What makes you..." Eddie begins, but trails off, the color draining from his face as he curses at the realization. "You heard that, huh?"

He looks pained as he asks, his hand twitching under Steve's as if he wants to pull it away but doesn't dare.

"Yeah, I did. Sorry for eavesdropping, but you and Chrissy were discussing it right in front of the bathroom I was going to use."

Eddie groans, finally pulling his hand away so he can bury his face in his hands. His voice is muffled when he speaks.

"No. Fuck, no. I'm sorry, Steve. That was... That was before."

"Before?"

"Before! Before I got to know you. Before I realized that I might be a complete idiot who prides himself on going against the grain and being open-minded and all that shit, only to go around judging people by their appearances instead of giving them a fair chance. The only asshole in this room is me." He groans again, a sound of pain and despair. "God, I can't believe you heard that crap and went on thinking that's how I fe - that's how I see you."

"Isn't it?" Steve couldn't help but ask, stunned by the sudden turn of events. He thought that Eddie had gotten over some of his resentment over the last few years, but it's hard to believe that he sees Steve so differently.

"It isn't!" Eddie almost yells, clearly wanting Steve to believe him. Then his voice softens again, "It's not. It didn't take me long to realize that you're a really good dude, Steve.”

And that is... a lot to take in. While he may need some time to let Eddie's words sink in, his heart doesn't seem to have any trouble taking this new realization and running with it, judging by the warmth spreading through his chest.

Eddie likes him. Has for some time, it seems. Maybe not in the same way that Steve likes him, but it's nice. Really nice.

"I won't," he tells Eddie.

"You won't what?"

"Take it back. I'm still all in. That is, if you are too."

A slow smile spreads across Eddie's face, the first hint of dimples adorning his cheeks. He returns it with one of his own, and for a long moment they just look at each other, the air around them thick with something. Something he dares not name, but that makes the hairs on his arms stand up.

Then Eddie breaks the moment by shaking his head with a small chuckle. "Looks like I have to make some phone calls today and share the great news."

"Great news? Did I miss something?" Steve jokes and Eddie rolls his eyes with a scoff.

"Had a clown for breakfast, Harrington?"

Right on cue, his stomach growls loudly. "Actually, I skipped breakfast."

Their eyes meet again and they both burst out laughing. When they calm down a bit, Eddie gets up from the table and claps his hand.

"Okay, this won't do. I can't let my future husband starve before he makes me an honest man. Let's go get something to eat, on me."

Steve gets up as well, still grinning happily. "You don't have to, I can pay."

"I know I don't and I know you can. But I want to. Sometimes people want to do nice things for you too, Stevie, and you have to let them. It's rude not to, y'know. Besides," Eddie adds, his voice getting serious, "I want to make it up to you. The shit I said, I mean."

He looks so earnest that it makes Steve melt a little. It's not that he needs it, he forgave Eddie long before they ever talked about it, but it feels like Eddie does.

"Okay. Thanks, Eds. I could go for some blueberry pancakes."

"Good choice, good choice. Lou's Diner?" Eddie's smile brightens again, both cheeks now dimpled, and Steve is glad he gave in, if it means he's the one causing that look on Eddie's face.

"You know how to treat a guy."

"I try."

Eddie disappears into his room to get his wallet, then rushes back, grabs his hands and drags him toward the door.

He doesn't let go until they're both on the sidewalk, walking side by side to the diner, their fingers brushing with almost every step.

"Okay, so I'm calling my uncle and the boys today, you already told Max and Dustin. Chrissy and Robin obviously know as well. Anyone else we need to tell?"

The question makes Steve falter in his steps and Eddie, who didn't notice at first and kept walking, rushes back to him when he realizes that Steve is no longer next to him.

"What is it? Is everything okay?"

Steve shakes his head. "No. I mean, yeah, I'm fine. Everything is fine. I just remembered I have to tell my boss. And my team."

"You think they'll react badly?"

With a sigh, Steve nudges Eddie's shoulder with his own and starts walking again. It's easier to talk about it when he doesn't have to look at Eddie's face.

"I don't know," he admits. "I want to say, no, they're good people. I mean, they are. But... back in high school, I thought my friends were good people, too. That they cared about me. Turns out they didn't. My best friend, Tommy... We used to fool around sometimes. He always said it didn't mean anything, that friends help each other out sometimes, no big deal. That's bullshit, of course. I just didn't want to admit that I liked guys as much as I liked girls. Then, the first semester of senior year, I had a girlfriend that I really liked. Loved, actually. Tommy didn't take it well. I guess he was jealous because I stopped making out with him and he told everyone how I liked dick. That I was trying to touch his.” Here Steve rolls his eyes at the irony of it all. It was Tommy who had always been so eager to get his hands on Steve. “Everything changed. My teammates on the basketball team refused to change in front of me, my friends started talking about me behind my back. Even my girlfriend looked at me differently after I admitted to her that I 'kind of like boys, too'."

It's like a dam has broken, all these words coming out of him. Eddie doesn't say a word, just walks beside him and lets him get it all out. He reaches for Steve's hand again, though, holding it in his own in silent support, his thumb stroking his knuckles in much the same way Steve had dreamed of doing to Eddie earlier.

When Steve is finished, Eddie squeezes his hand.

"Did you know that about 600,000 people go missing every year in the U.S.? Who knows, maybe this Tommy will join them soon. Wouldn't that be a shame?"

Steve can't help but burst out laughing. The grin Eddie throws his way tells him that's exactly what he hoped would happen, obviously proud of himself for making Steve laugh.

"I appreciate the...offer? Threat? Fun fact? But it's okay, I'm over it. It sucked big time, but it also made me realize that they were all rich asshole jocks and I didn't want to be one of them anymore." He winks to take some of the heat out of his words.

"Okay, fine. The offer's on the table, though. But seriously, I get it. You're afraid your team will let you down like those assholes did."

"I guess. Which is probably unfair, but -"

"Once burned, twice shy."

"Exactly. Is that stupid?"

"No, it's not." Eddie reassures him. "I think it's perfectly normal to be cautious after what you've been through. But maybe your teammates are surprising you. Every time you talk about them, they sound pretty awesome and like you have a great relationship with them."

Steve didn't even realize he was talking about his teammates so much, or that Eddie was paying attention when he did.

"So how about this: Our apartment has this common area out back. We could have a little barbecue out there with Max and Dustin and the girls on the day you tell your team. That way, we can take your mind off of it if it doesn't go well, or, my personal favorite, we can celebrate that they took it well with a couple of burgers and some beer."

Eddie sounds sincere, his hand around Steve's as firm and sure as his voice.

"That... that would be great. You really think that would be okay?"

They reach Lou's Diner and Eddie turns to face him, his big brown eyes full of an emotion Steve can't name. "Yeah, I'm sure. All in, remember?"

On impulse, Steve rushes forward and wraps his arms around Eddie, pressing his face into his neck. After a moment of surprised hesitation, Eddie's arms wrap around him in return. He squeezes Steve tightly, his hand gently rubbing his back.

Steve doesn't let go for a long time.

Eddie is so screwed. He's not known for making particularly smart decisions, but this has to take the cake. Offering to fake marry the guy he's been head over heels for years.

Stupidity of epic proportions, your name is Eddie Munson.

In his defense, he didn't come up with the idea. No, that honor goes to Chrissy and Buckley. But Eddie could have said no when they pitched him their idea on how to help Steve get his inheritance and at the same time flip that horrible woman he's unfortunate enough to call Grandmother the bird.

As if Eddie has that much sense of self-preservation. It's like they never even met him. So of course he said yes, and when Steve told him, all earnest puppy eyes, that Eddie didn't have to do this, he made up a story about needing a loan for the record store he and Jeff were in the process of buying anyway. He's not looking forward to that awkward conversation when that particular truth comes out, but that's a problem for future Eddie.

Present Eddie is freaking out because past Eddie offered to throw a barbecue for Steve to make him feel better after coming out to his team at the firehouse. He invited Steve's little sister Max and made sure that Dustin came all the way from Boston to join them, with Robin, Chrissy, and Eddie there as backup in case Steve's team reacts badly and he needs his favorite people to cheer him up.

"Could you please stop freaking out, Edward? Robin and Steve are going to be here any minute and you looking like you're seconds away from bolting is not going to help anyone."

"I really don't like this tough love thing you've got going, Chris. Where's the sweet, innocent girl who ambushed me in the woods to buy weed from me and then never left?"

"She became friends with you," Chrissy quips back and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, still grinning.

Eddie, unable to keep up the fake annoyance any longer, cracks and, with a cackle of laughter, grabs his best friend and spins her around until her pearly laugh echoes through their apartment.

That's how Steve and Robin find them, clearly amused by the antics they've just seen.

"Did we miss something?" Steve asks with a smile and Eddie's heart flutters at the sight.

"Nope," he answers, popping the 'p'. "Just the usual occurrence of Chrissy being a menace to me."

"Watch it, Munson. That's my girlfriend you're talking about." Robin chimes in and walks over to greet Chrissy with a sweet kiss.

"Stevie, it is your sacred duty as my future husband to defend me!" Eddie cries out as Steve just stands there watching them with amusement.

"Oh no, no, no. I refuse to be dragged into this."

Robin actually cackles like some kind of supervillain. "Damn right. Steve knows I have access to his hair products and I have no qualms about using that knowledge against him."

Eddie throws up his arms and stalks off to the kitchen to get the things they need for the barbecue.

Later, he stands by the grill, watching Steve flip burgers with the ease of someone who’s done it a thousand times. The backyard is filled with the people closest to Steve and him, their laughter and conversation filling the common area. Eddie's heart feels incredibly full at the sight.

He nudges Steve gently. "You okay? You haven't said a word about how it went. Has me a bit worried, to be honest."

Steve nods, though Eddie can see the pensiveness in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm good. I guess it went better than I thought it would. They hated that I didn't tell them sooner, but Jim talked some sense into them. He said I didn't owe them anything and that he was sure I had my reasons."

Eddie gives him a reassuring smile. "They'll understand when you tell them what you told me. And even if you don't, it sounds like they care a great deal about you. They'll get over it."

Steve takes a deep breath and nods. "I hope you're right." Then he looks at Eddie through his lashes, a wry twist to his mouth indicating Steve thinks Eddie won't like what's coming next. "I might have invited them all to our wedding. Y'know, to make it up to them. But I'm sure I could tell them -"

"That's fine, Steve. Really. In fact, I didn't expect anything else. I was hoping Uncle Wayne would have someone his age at the wedding to talk to, and your captain sounds like the perfect guy for the job."

Eddie quickly begins to realize that he would do anything for Steve, as long as it meant Steve would look at him the way he does now. His hazel eyes are all soft and warm, the little smile that curls the corners of his mouth almost intimate. They lean in close, both gazing at each other, lost in their own little orbit. So close, Eddie can see the freckles on the bridge of Steve's nose and the swirls of gold and green in his eyes. It wouldn't take much to bridge the gap between them, just a slight tilt of his head, a few inches of space he'd need to push forward. Just a few teeny-tiny inches...

"Ew, gross! Get a room, you two. There are children present." Max's voice cuts through the thickening tension between them, startling them apart.

Steve looks at her sternly, his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "Excuse me?"

Eddie, on the other hand, just sticks his tongue out at her.

Dustin, who had been talking with Robin, also turns toward them, adding his own two cents. "I can't believe I didn't call this. You two are so obvious, it's embarrassing."

Usually, Eddie would tell Dustin off for his tone, maybe even tease him about missing all the clues with that genius brain of his, but that would be risky. Sure, maybe there had been clues from his side, but he sure as hell doesn’t want Steve to know that. So instead of doing one of his favorite things in the world—teasing Dustin—he keeps quiet and just rolls his eyes at him.

Steve, however, chooses a different approach. He ignores both his little sister and Dustin in favor of continuing their conversation.

"So, how did your uncle take the news of your betrothal?"

The phrasing makes Eddie laugh. "Stevie, you sound like Birdie and Chrissy made you watch Pride and Prejudice with them." When Steve doesn’t respond, only his cheeks slightly reddening, Eddie can’t help but cackle. "They did, didn’t they? Don’t worry, I’ve been swooning over Mr. Darcy since I was a teenager. I'm happy to be your Elizabeth Bennet."

For a moment, Eddie's afraid he said too much, revealed too much. But Steve’s just smiling at him like the thought amuses him, so Eddie thinks they’re good. He really hopes so, because now that Steve mentioned his talk with Wayne, he remembers the old man’s words.

When Eddie had told him about the wedding, asking if he’d come, his uncle had been surprisingly unsurprised.

"It’s that Steve fella you’re always going on about, isn’t it?" he had asked, like he’d been waiting for something like that to happen. It had made Eddie cringe. Seems like he had talked a lot more about Steve than he thought he had.

"How’d you know?" Eddie still had to ask.

"Because you’ve been smitten with that boy for years and he would be stupid not to want you back. And my nephew doesn’t fall for stupid."

It was then that Eddie had wished more than ever that he could tell Wayne the truth, ask his advice. But just like Steve, he didn’t want to pull his only family that mattered to him into his mess. Besides, Wayne sounded so happy that Eddie finally got to have the love he deserves that Eddie couldn’t bring himself to tell him that no, Steve just needed him. Liked him, maybe, from the looks of it, but not love. Never love, not for Eddie.

"Hello, Earth to Eddie. Do you copy?" Steve asks, sounding once again like the nerd Eddie knows he secretly is after years of hanging out with Dustin Henderson.

"Yeah, sorry, just remembered that I have to put the garbage bin out tomorrow."

Steve looks a bit doubtful but lets it drop. "So, your talk with your uncle, how did it go?"

"It went well. He’s excited to meet you."

Another of those soft smiles graces Steve’s face, and Eddie learns that he’s quickly becoming addicted to causing them. "Good, that’s good. Me too. He sounds great."

Only two more weeks until the most important person in his life and the guy he’s secretly in love with, whom he’s fake marrying, will meet. What could possibly go wrong?

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddiesummerexchange #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #my writing

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always-sleeepy-headd · 6 months ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Your Present Is Angst Because I'm Tired and Kinda Emo Inside

This was written for Cross's birthday ages ago and I'm only now posting it lol (Sorry!)

Summary:

It's Cross's birthday today, he wants to forget and he tries his hardest too. Although it never seems to work and just leaves him with more scars and more pain.

Cross is beginning to love that pain.

Notes:

Cross burns himself so if you don't think you can handle that I just wanted to let you know.

Also he purges and I know that's a sore spot for a lot of people including myself but I'm tiny bit of a masochist lol (I actually enjoy writing about things that have happened to me or to someone dear to me and projecting on my poor Crossyboo 😔✊)

Don't purge guys, it's not good and can seriously damage your body, and if you have before, I got you babes everything will be alright <3

Even if you're just going through a tough time right now remember everything is temporary, you and I, the world, sadness, you name it, we'll all make it through if we keep trudging on!

_________

Cross wasn't the type for celebrations, it made him nervous and want to hide under something while everyone just chatted it up like they weren't all dead.

He was sure nobody knew this year though, just like the last, and the one before that. A third unnoticed birthday is what he was hoping for when he checked the time this morning, he could go on with his usual day and hopefully not pass out again.

That was really close with Nightmare the other day, he was out training for an especially excessive time and Nightmare came in and had told him to take a break and Cross had barely registered him.

He had turned to the noise but all he heard was a ringing in his ears, he heard Nightmare's voice a second time and he was able to make it out then, "And take a shower or something."

As soon as he heard the door close he had stumbled and blacked out, it was only for barely a minute thankfully. When he got up he found himself on the floor and his heart beating quickly, thank the skies nobody had come in just then.

He had eventually managed to get up and take a shower before being called down to eat dinner, it was a very strange tradition for someone like the Bad Sanses, they always ate meals together. But honestly if you really think about it it makes sense, Horror needed to know everyone was eating, he could go into panic mode if not.

It also made it easier to figure out if something was wrong with someone, that's one of the reasons meals were dreaded in Cross's mind.

That and the fact he can barely handle eating the food, much less keeping it down, and don't get him wrong, Horror's an amazing cook... he just can't. Especially when he's already frustrated with himself.

He barely made it though dinner, Nightmare gave him a few looks but he must have chalked whatever it was up to low self worth and Cross overworking himself, which was what Nightmare thought were the only things wrong with Cross, making it so much easier for him to do what he does next.

Cross's nightly routine always starts hunched over a toilet throwing up his insides and silently crying while doing so, this was easy to do without Nightmare noticing because Dust almost always had at least a small freak out during this time of evening.

Then when he's done throwing up anything and everything he's eaten and kept down he collapses onto the floor and desperately rummages through his box of 'special' things, pulling out a lighter and lighting it across his bone.

The intensity of the heat calms him while at the same time making him restless, he needed something, something.

Anything.

He would burn and burn and he would even shed a few tears at the pain, just to do it again just to feel the heat of reality mix with fiction.

It was like a dream.

A terrible, awful, dream.

That would eventually bring him to today, he was putting on his overly complicated outfit again and would stare into the mirror as he splashed water on his face.

It was cold.

He wanted heat.

The pain of his burns hurt, he wanted more, more, anything for feeling and control, he would run them under cold water and this was the time of day Chara would say something to him. Chara would run off away from him to look for Killer to watch him play video games or mess with the others.

It was always along the lines of, "Cross, this is seriously getting bad," Or, "I think you should let that heal at least before doing it again..."

Cross didn't trust those words, not from Chara, not from anyone.

He walks down the stairs only to see an unhappy Nightmare and a on the verge of a panic attack Dust.

That was not a great thing to start his morning with, oh well he'll just ignore it at least means the attention will stay far away from him this morning.

Cross doesn't bother a good morning, he didn't feel like speaking. Nor did he really ever but that's life.

He walks into the kitchen to see how Horror's doing as he does every morning but Horror seems quite on nerve so Cross doesn't walk too far into the kitchen, it was a small gesture but very much noticed by the big guy.

"Good... morning Cross," Horror starts, sounding a little on edge, "The boss told me to keep everybody occupied this morning... although I know you usually train.. I was wondering if you'd help me out...?" He asks.

Cross was startled but he would never say no to someone asking for help, it's a habit he could never sway, he nodded but in a more 'are you sure?' way.

"Thanks... I asked Killer but... you know how he is..." Horror says, shuffling around, seemingly understanding Cross's not speaking as him not being up to conversation and handing him a bowl and some chocolate.

Cross gives him a questioning look, "Just... heat up the chocolate so it melts..."

"A-" Cross attempts but his voice fails him, "I- Is there a specific reason that I'm heating up... chocolate...?" Cross asks, they didn't usually even have chocolate in the house, let alone anything sugary but it seems Horror either had a stash or got this special to make something.

"Wanted... to make something." That was enough for Cross, he didn't care to question it any further, besides he really just wanted to get Horror's approval.

Cross, without a word, easily heated up the chocolate over the stove, it began to bring back memories of his AU he didn't want surfaced.

The sound of laughter, the taste of chocolate in his mouth, his arms didn't hurt, the worst he felt was a little sore. Speaking to everyone, not holding his tongue, no, actually feeling the urge to speak real words out loud.

The smell of chocolate cake, kind words he'll never hear again-

His palm burning.

Cross blinked in surprise and lifted his arm off of the stove quickly, he had accidentally set it down on the burner and hadn't noticed, the feeling already so normal to him.

Horror looked over at the sudden movement and asked him what was wrong.

Cross didn't respond.

The words were so caught in his throat, they refused to leave, he didn't want to speak, he didn't want to speak, he didn't want to-

"Cross." He hears a powerful and commanding voice that was unmistakably Nightmare's.

Still he didn't speak but his hand fell from where he was apparently clutching it.

"Is something upsetting you Cross? I can feel your emotions you know, so it would be best not to lie, I will know." Nightmare asks, Cross barely understanding.

Nightmare wanted him to speak.

He didn't want to speak.

He turned towards Nightmare, but still he couldn't even manage to get his mouth open.

"Cross, respond to me." He says and Cross could barely even think, his brain suddenly filled with images of his family's death.

A death of his own, maybe.

And then, his lack of food and therefore energy caught up to him yet again, he stumbled and then blacked out.

...

When he awoke he lay on the couch with a damp washcloth on his head and a bandaged hand, he almost panicked but realized his arms had no such care, Nightmare hadn't felt the need to check for other injuries thank gods.

Cross sat up and took the washcloth off of his head, staring at his hand for a moment before a smell hit his nose.

Chocolate cake.

He couldn't handle this, not right now, not ever.

It was his birthday, a day that he dreaded every year now, October 10th, the day Cross was born.

A day he considers to be the worst day of his life.

Celebration was no more, he needed a way out, he needed to get his frustration out, he needed to burn every piece of bone on his body until it was unusable, then use it anyway.

"Cross, you're awake." Nightmare says, startling slightly.

Cross didn't say a word.

"What's going on, you've been strange all week, more so than normal. Your little nightly negativity bursts have been getting larger and more prevalent every night, I think now is when I interfere." He sighs and Cross almost gasps, Nightmare knew something was wrong.

He didn't want to speak, his body would not let him.

He wanted to cry, his body could not.

He wanted to burn, he wanted to burn, he wanted to burn, he wanted to burn-

"Cross. Are you listening to me?" Nightmare's voice suddenly bursts through his thoughts of self harm. "Cross I'm not kidding, have you suddenly gone mute?" Nightmare says, his voice turning stern but softening a second later, "I promise I won't judge if something is bothering you."

Cross manages to open his mouth this time, nothing comes out though. So he closes it, unsaid words threatening to spill out now and that scares him more than not being able to get anything out.

Nightmare sighs, "At least tell me what happened, Horror was terrified..." Nightmare mumbles.

Cross opens his mouth again, but this time it worked, "I... got distracted..." He manages to mumble, his voice hoarse from little use.

Nightmare sighs again, "Distracted how? You end up with a burn on your palm, which you should have noticed right away if you had your hand on the burner by the way, that's really weird and you might need to figure out what that is supposed to mean, Horror is concerned you haven't been eating enough and passed out due to lack of malnourishment, although I'm going to guess it was overexertion, but then again you just woke up-" Nightmare sighs a third time, "My point is, what the hell got you so upset?"

"Ch-" Cross coughs slightly, rubbing his throat, "Chocolate..." He muttered, "The smell reminded me of something."

"...Oh boy." Nightmare says, realizing this was probably a mistake.

"...What...?" Cross mumbles.

"I think I should just show you, follow me." Nightmare says, gesturing to a door.

Cross got up and followed Nightmare without a beat, anything to get his mind off of his-

...

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY CROSS!" Mostly Killer yells, Cross is suddenly hit with a dump truck of emotions.

"I- I- H- How- I don't-" Cross whispers just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You told me one time when I was upset about something." Dust says, who happens to be covered in colorful streamers.

"And you told me when I was half asleep!" Killer yells excitedly, he's covered in silly string and Cross realizes that Nightmare has a tiny piece of it on his shoulder.

This made him cry.

He didn't cry in front of others, it was so taboo in his brain.

It wasn't sobs, it was just tears, he barely changed expressions.

Everyone looked startled, they had been expecting Cross to say they didn't need to or maybe even get a small smile out of him, not tears.

Killer immediately ran over when he realized what was going on, "Hey, hey, what's wrong? I thought birthday parties were supposed to be happy?"

Cross couldn't explain so it came out in sobs, Killer grabbing onto him while Cross cried on his shoulder.

Killer caught Nightmare's gaze and gave him a panicked look and Nightmare just shook his head.

...

Once Cross had calmed down and there were just occasional sniffles every now and then, they had moved one of the couches, "So... is this why you've been acting strange this whole week then?" Nightmare asks.

"S- Sorry." Cross mumbles.

"Do not apologize for things you are not at fault for."

"Sor- uh."

"Poor Crossy baby, he can't stop being a people pleaser~" Killer says, smooshing his face against Cross's in a manner that could be taken as mocking but Cross knows Killer well enough to know it isn't, still doesn't stop him from shoving him off though.

Killer is undeterred, he just hugs onto Cross harder.

"...Are you... okay?" Horror asks, looking worried.

"...Yeah. I'll live." Cross mumbles an 'unfortunately' afterword that only Killer and Nightmare could hear, Killer squeezed a little tighter at hearing that.

"Why did you pass out...? Do you... know?" Horror asks.

"..." Cross can't bring himself to tell them the way he treats himself when they aren't looking.

"You do know, don't you?" Nightmare asks, his tone only slightly accusing, Cross flinches either way.

"Criss-Cross, are you doing something to yourself?" Killer asks.

"Yes." Is the only word that Cross can manage to get out of his mouth, everyone's frown deepens at the sound of it.

"What...? If I may ask." Nightmare says, even though it sounds like you have a choice, you'll have to tell him anyway, he'll just ask you when nobody is around.

"I can barely eat..." Cross whispers, "And when I manage too, I throw it all up, I can't keep food down anymore, I don't even need to make myself throw up anymore... I can do it on command."

"...What?" Horror says, looking horrified.

"I'm sorry..." Cross says and his voice starts to waver, tears threatening to spill again.

Suddenly Chara's voice pops in, "What about your arms?" They say, "I know you already told them some of your bullshit but every morning when I see them they get worse."

"That's not... the only thing..." Cross mumbles, clutching at his sleeves.

"Of course it isn't." Nightmare sighs.

"..." Cross slowly rolls up his sleeves and a series of gasps and exclaims are heard, one from Nightmare as well.

"W- What the hell are you even doing???" Dust asks, his horror not even hidden.

"Burning." Cross says.

"... How much is there?" Nightmare asks.

"All over my whole body... but mostly my arms." Cross says, wincing.

"I- I don't even know-" Nightmare says, seemingly astonished. "You know what? Come here, let me heal you."

...

Cross was super embarrassed the entire time Nightmare was healing despite Nightmare telling him that it was fine over and over.

It... went away.

The burn is gone.

He needs the burn, the painfully awful heat on his bones to stab at his regret and shove it so deep down it disappears momentarily.

Nightmare notices his... unhealthy... thoughts and lets out a frustrated sigh, "Cross, you do know you're definitely not allowed around lighters anymore right?"

"Okay." Cross says, his emotionless stature coming back, but Nightmare, being so close to him, could feel the addiction in his aura, the temptation and pain that Cross was so good at hiding.

Nightmare frowns at this.

"Come on, I thought we hit something and you wouldn't be an emotionless robot around us anymore." Killer grumbles and Nightmare sends a glare his way, Cross knew Killer was actually worried about him though.

Throughout his entire time at Nightmare's he's seen everyone but Nightmare cry before, Nightmare obviously has his own problems though, he's seen him flinch when he gets glared at or Killer and Dust's roughhousing gets a little too close to him and a hand goes up near him.

They never seem to notice though, they just keep going and Nightmare will sigh and tell them to be nice and that he's going to take a nap. He never does though, he goes and sits in his library and reads what are 'not' romance novels. Cross had seen it himself, Nightmare was reading a book that Cross had read and of what he remembers it was all schmoopy feelings and smut.

He leaned over and said, "Whatcha reading there?" He giggles as Nightmare flinches and turns his head around quickly, his face turning extremely confused as it was not normal for Cross to act like this at all.

"Sorry about startling you, I just recognized the book you were reading." Cross says, holding back giggles.

The horror that showed on Nightmare's face when he said that was unmatchable with anyone he's ever seen die at the hands of any of them.

"You. Didn't. See. Shit. You hear me?" Nightmare had said, Cross replying with a thumbs up and giggling a little.

Nightmare was interesting, although seeing Killer cry was the craziest thing Cross thinks has ever happened.

Killer was supposed to be emotionless, he wasn't supposed to feel anything at all.

And the funny thing about it was that Killer wasn't crying about regret, or his own sadness, or even for someone dead.

Killer was crying about a fake comic about two cats.

Nightmare's face when he heard Killer's sobs in the corner of the room was completely shocked, Killer per usual was sitting on the bright pink beanbag in the corner of the room that had been there as long as Cross has and longer.

As it was just Cross, Killer and Nightmare home at the time, they both had looked over immediately and seen Killer sobbing over his phone, Nightmare had run over as quickly as he could and asked what was wrong.

"The cat dieddd!" Killer responds, sobbing into Nightmare's shoulder.

"...What?" Nightmare had said, confused as ever.

This was also the first time Cross had heard of Color, apparently Color had sent Killer a link to this super cute cat comic about two cats who were siblings but then a human killed on of them near the end of the comic, Color had also apparently sent that 'watch this being back your emotions' and Killer had been like, okay, whatever I guess I'll read it.

But then the cat died and he started sobbing.

Cross had felt bad but then he realized the hilarity of the situation and started to uncontrollably giggle.

Nightmare had looked at him and given the most 'are you kidding me' face in the world and Cross started to laugh more.

Killer's face when Cross started to laugh was so...

Let's just say there was no words to describe the mix of hurt and then awe at Cross's laughter.

Cross didn't emote, that was how it was and how Cross thought it would always be.

Nightmare was the first to change that, then Killer started to hang out with him after that, Cross never realized how funny Killer was. It was hard to see through the insensitive bitchass Killer was when he first met him.

Killer had... changed in his eyes a lot since then, like right now, with Killer hugging on his arm that had already been healed to the best of Nightmare's ability.

Like right now? Killer was the cutest thing Cross thinks he's ever seen.

Killer and Cross weren't dating, neither of them were good enough with their own feelings to deal with eachothers. They liked each other, maybe.

That's how it was and Cross didn't mind, Killer wasn't as much as a bitchass as he'd first thought.

"My apologies about all the festivities Cross, we just were excited that we finally found out when your birthday was and didn't think about how you hadn't said anything for the past three years, or how it might have painful memories attached to it." Nightmare says, finishing with his other arm.

"... I'm fine, I just..." Cross sighs, "My birthday was never a bad thing before... It's not like I have these terrible birthday memories, it just reminds me of... my AU." Cross says, stopping himself before he says family, he couldn't call them that, it hurt too much to think of how they were gone.

"I understand, if you want us to ignore it from now on we will, but I think it might help if your memories of your birthday are not all of things that cause you pain." Nightmare says and Killer nods and whispers.

"I got you a special present." he says in Cross's ear, seemingly excited about it.

"Okay," Cross says, talking feeling so much easier than usual, "I think you're right..."

"Yay!" Killer exclaims, "I can't wait to show you what we got you~!"

Cross exhales and smiles a little at Killer, who sees it and his eyes light up in a triumphant way. "I knew you could smile." He says, getting in Cross's personal space a little.

Suddenly, Cross knew everything would be okay.

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softpascalito · 1 year ago

Text

Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Nineteen

Brushing Teeth - Joel Miller/F!Reader

Summary: Grief is cruel and just because you and Joel live in the safe haven that is the Jackson community it does not mean you're immune to it.

Possibly the saddest (but also kinda best) thing I have written so far.

Relationships: Joel Miller x F!Reader

WC: 2400

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Established Relationship, jackson era, No use of y/n, Crying, past trauma, Survivor Guilt, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Tooth Brushing, This is like seriously sad pls beware, Author has already scheduled a therapist appointment

AO3 LINK

notes: a huge thank you to my beta babes maria and aura for reading this a month in advance. i love you both so much.

this is a really, really sad fic. it's likely not gonna go the way you think. please continue with caution <3

_________________________________________

Circles

He died just after sunrise.

It had been supposed to be a simple shift, guarding the perimeter from one of the high posts along the fence that stretched around Jackson. The wood had been icy, slippery. There had been a railing. But when his heart had failed and he had collapsed to the ground, slipping over it like an ice rink, it hadn't been able to stop his body from falling.

There was nothing that could have been done. He had been old, older than most. Even with modern medicine, his condition would have caught up to him sooner or later.

Fate had decided on sooner.

Word hadn't reached Joel before he had left for patrol and so he had spent the day clearing Infected and checking the lookouts, unaware of the tragedy that had, for once, struck within the very borders of home. It wasn't until he came back in the early evening, that he noticed something was off.

There were no children bustling around on the playground, no adults studying the notice boards to see which movie was on tonight or who offered guitar lessons. Curtains were drawn shut. It was quiet.

The somber look on Tommy's face, who was waiting for Joel at the stables, was enough to send him into a panic.

Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?

Tommy must have seen it coming because he had already raised his hands, as if surrendering to his brother, ”They're both fine.” Joel nodded solemnly as Tommy explained, repeating the events of the day in a few words.

He could live with that. As long as it wasn 't Ellie. Or you. Never you.

Ellie had spent the day with you, trying to look after you, doing the best she could. She was waiting in the large armchair in the living room, as close to the front door as she physically could.

Joel practically barges in, his gaze quickly checking the adjacent rooms. When he sees Ellie, he immediately relaxes a bit, knowing that at least someone has been here. Someone who kept watch.

“How is she?” He asks, disregarding any need for a greeting towards the teenager. She doesn't seem to mind, instead hopping up from the seat and walking with him, the pair quickly moving through the hallway.

“I gave her some food. I don't think she ate any of it. She wouldn't talk to me either. I'm sorry, Joel, I-'' He quickly shakes his head. He'll take care of Ellie, reassure her that she did a good job, which he undoubtedly knows she did. But Ellie is not the person in this house who needs him the most right now. Ellie is not the person who lost someone today.

“Later, okay?” Joel demands softly. His voice carries an underlying, stern tone that he rarely uses anymore. In other circumstances, Ellie would get mad at him, but she understands. He is in survival mode. He is making sure the people he loves are still there. He is scared.

Joel remembers your form that he had left behind this morning. Still in bed, sleepy, only reluctantly pressing a small kiss to his lips, the sweet promise of a few more minutes of sleep too tempting to ignore. He remembers the night before, the bubbly, talkative personality you usually have, that is a just little too much for him sometimes.

Your world had changed in just a few hours, a few minutes. And he hadn't been here.

Why had he not been here?

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks hesitantly and only then Joel realizes that he's stopped in the middle of the hallway. He continues his steps.

“Why wouldn't I be?” Ellie gives a shrug next to him but Joel barely notices, still too caught up in his thoughts.

He needs to see you. See that you are fine, just like Tommy had promised. Not truly fine, maybe, but alive. Breathing.

As they reach the old, wooden staircase, Ellie stops, taking in Joels gaze, that to her, still seems miles away, ”She wouldn't leave the bed. I barely recognized her.”

Joel just nods, his worry growing with every word. His grip on the banister tightens slightly, knuckles turning white.

“Go see her,” Ellie whispers and gently nudges him.

“Right.” That finally gets Joel to move again, his voice a little higher than usual and trembling slightly. Ellie knows he is close to crying. She presses her fist into his back a little harder and he nods again before he hurries up the stairs two steps at a time.

It's not until he reaches the end of the landing, until he is two steps away from the bedroom door that he slows down. Once again, uncertainty takes over his body. What does he say? Do? He's not equipped to handle this, he's not good with emotions, much less sad ones.

He's not sure what happens. An instinct takes over, steering his body steadily towards the door and pulling his fingers towards the brass handle. Maybe it's some old, parental instinct from before the outbreak, that he still carries buried in the back of his mind. Either way, he sends a silent, thankful prayer that it's there, that it allows him to continue putting one foot in front of the other despite having no idea how to.

The wooden door creaks slightly as he pushes it open. It's a familiar sound, more comforting than unnerving.

Joel is greeted by cold and darkness. He shivers as he steps into the room:'' Jesus Christ.” He mutters under his breath. He doesn't have to wait until his eyes adjust to the light. He can find his way in the darkness.

He quickly turns the radiator higher, another familiar noise flaring up. Familiar is good. Familiar is safe.

He doesn't want to turn on the big light but he finds the switch for the small lamp in the corner and finally, he can take in the scene before him. His gaze is immediately caught by the bed in the middle of the room.

Whenever he goes out on patrol and you get the bed to yourself, you make use of his absence by occupying the entire bed, sprawling yourself out in the middle of the worn-out mattress. More than once, he had to physically fight you if he wanted his side of the bed back.

Now, however, you aren't in your usual position. You are curled up, tucked into the far corner of the bed, blankets and pillows wrapped around what Joel can only assume to be your body, some of them resting against the headboard.

It almost looks like you are trying to protect yourself, shield yourself from the grief that is knocking on the door downstairs, that is coming the same way he just has, slipping into the dark, cold room. A nest, to fend off the grief. Joel knows it wont work. He has tried.

A few of your limbs poke out from holes in the fortress of pillows and blankets and Joel softens slightly as his gaze wanders over them. He suddenly wants to run again, but he is afraid it'll startle you so instead, he approaches slowly, softly, like one may approach a wounded animal.

The bed dips slightly beside you as he sits down, his strong arms immediately wandering under the covers, searching for you. He finds the fabric of a shirt first, and then there's skin. Soft, gentle skin and he wants to cry with the familiarity of it. Looking down, he isn't surprised to see the shirt he had discarded last night, his favorite green flannel, now wrapped around your trembling body.

The thoughts come back. A small body, wrapped in a flannel shirt. He has seen it often enough to fill several lifetimes. He doesn't mind it anymore.

He knows it's a lie. He does mind it.

They had wrapped Sarah in flannel.

He can still see her. Still see the shirt, stained with blood. There had been so much blood.

Joel thinks about his daughter, his everything, his whole world, taken from him, wrapped in a shirt and buried in a backyard under a tree somewhere in Texas.

Joel knows he can't have these thoughts right now. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're bursting. He pushes the thoughts away. Later.

His right arm finds your hair and you finally make a noise, whimpering softly at finally, finally having him here with you.

The blanket is gently pulled to the side, allowing Joel to see your face. Your hair is messy, your cheeks tear-streaked, eyes red and puffy from crying. You look like you have just been through hell.

Joel reminds himself you probably have.

His insides clench as he pushes down his own tears. And then you open your mouth.

“It was supposed to be my shift.”

That's all it takes. He hates himself because he's supposed to be there for you, he's supposed to be strong. But the fear is stronger, the knowledge that he could've lost you today gripping him again and not letting him breathe.

He leans forward in an attempt to hide his tears, his face, his own sorrow and you break too, shamelessly sobbing into his chest. You stay entangled like this, bodies pressed tightly together, you crying loudly and him crying silently. It feels like a long time. Your voice becomes hoarse but the sobs wont stop. You're not sure they ever will.

Joel moves, eventually, kneeling down on the floor so that his face is level with yours and he can study your face. His hands remain on your skin, not once breaking contact. He rubs small circles into your skin, caressing every part of you he can reach.

Nothing can touch you as long as he does.

“Gonna help you a bit. That alright, darlin'?” He mumbles softly. Your answer comes automatically, the same one you've given Ellie throughout the day, ''I'm not hungry.”

“I know you ain't,” Joel mumbles. He lets it slide:” But we should clean you up. Just a bit.” He promises as he leans forward and kisses your cheek. You don't struggle as he picks you up more carefully than ever, hoisting you onto his hips and wrapping his arms around your legs to keep you upright against his chest. It's almost like being carried by a father.

Joel takes you into the bathroom, sitting you down on the counter. There is a bald patch on the wall where a mirror used to be until he gave it to Ellie. He always gives.

Patiently, he waits until the water is lukewarm and then begins wiping your face with a washcloth. You probably smell but you can't bring yourself to care and neither does Joel.

He moves on to your hair, untying the knot that once resembled some sort of hairstyle and brushing through it with his fingers for a moment before tying it back again. His movements are so gentle, so smooth. You watch as he grabs your toothbrush, gently wetting it and putting some toothpaste on, his left hand all the while remaining on your thigh.

Joel gently nudges the toothbrush against your mouth and you dutifully open up, allowing him to start brushing your teeth, still as gentle as he can.

He can feel the sadness again, threatening to overwhelm him. He brushes in small circles.

The last time he had done this was with Sarah. She was eight. She had been sick then, caught a stomach bug at soccer camp and thrown up for days. Joel had dragged his mattress to her room, sleeping beside her.

He moves on to the other side of your mouth. More circles.

Sarah had vomited on him, in the middle of the night, staining both the carpet and his pants. He hadn't batted an eye, just stripped the beds and taken her to the bathroom to clean her up. All he had needed was for her to feel better. And if him enduring it would lessen her suffering, he would have chosen it time and time again.

He doesn't say this. He thinks he may, some day. But not anytime soon.

Circles. Joel brushes in circles.

When he's done, he holds a cup to your lips and you lean sideward, spitting into the sink. He is still caressing your thigh, a constant, reassuring touch. He brings his other hand up to your face, using his thumb to wipe the last bit of toothpaste off the corner of your mouth.

“Let's get back to bed, hm?” You don't trust your voice again yet so you just nod and sniffle a bit. As he picks you up again, you feel another wave, a nauseous wave of grief coming down on you. You think he feels it too because he grips you a little tighter. You start crying again.

You return to the mess of pillows and blankets that still cover half the bed. But now he is there with you. His too large frame under the covers next to you, watching with sad, brown eyes as you curl up against him. He pats your hair, leans down and gently presses a kiss to your forehead. It has been ages.

The small streak of light that falls through a hole in the blankets reflects in his broken watch for a split moment. He looks down at it, the motion so familiar still. And he knows. He knows how you feel.

“Get some rest, babygirl,” he whispers. He'll do right by you. He won't let you go through the things he did. You close your eyes, taking in his smell, his warmth. It feels different now.

It could've been her. It could've been her. Thank god it wasn't her.

You're still in his arms, you're still here, still breathing, chest falling and rising in a semi-steady rhythm. He makes the choice in that moment. Or, he realizes it. He feels like he has made it a long time ago.

He will endure it. He will endure everything if it just takes away a little of your grief, of your pain.

He doesn't need to say it. It's an unspoken truth.

Joel Miller will be there.

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btsgotjams27 · 2 years ago

Text

this is us ~ jjk | 2

when you're stressed, jungkook has a way to help.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) you can read them here on AO3 & Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 3 ~ hot tubs and clubs part 1

chapter two ~ back hugs and peppered kisses | wc: 4.4k warnings: kissing, teasing, touching, language, jungkook's nipple is newly pierced, jungkook has another erection (what else is new?), oc playfully asks him to beg, allusions to sex (i'm telling you now, it'll be a while before there's an actual smut scene)

With the success of your last show, your agent approached you with a possible major network project. They were interested in what other scripts you had in your back pocket. Of course, you always wrote and jotted down ideas, but you didn't have a full script ready for them. Jae, the person you were in contact with, said they'd give you two months to develop a solid script and then go from there. It was not an opportunity to pass up on. This was a dream come true for you.

~ Six months together ~

Many people would think it strange to write in the middle of the night, but something was alluring about being awake in the quiet and stillness of it all. Your thoughts could run wild without interruptions while the rest of the world was fast asleep.

You were frantically pounding your keyboard, hoping not to wake Jungkook, as you had been doing for several hours since he had fallen asleep. He'd been sleeping over for the past few weeks because your place was closer to his (he claims), but you didn't mind. It felt wonderful to wake up to his warm cuddles and sweet kisses. He'd even get up early to prepare you breakfast before going to work. Jungkook was the ideal boyfriend - sometimes too ideal.

Instead of kisses and cuddles, you've been working on your script for the past few nights, constantly editing, rewriting, and scrapping ideas. Jungkook couldn't help but find you endearing and cute when he found you sitting at your desk with a messy bun and rimmed glasses, completely in writer mode. He'd attempt to divert your attention. And it was hard to resist, but you were proud of yourself for withstanding this horny bunny.

"It's been days, baby. Please come to bed." He sulked, leaning down from behind you and kissing the nape of your neck with peppered kisses. Your weakness. His hands wrapped around your body, squeezing your tits. That was a vile act on his part. You had to admit that you were enjoying his touch right now. Your body yearned for him.

You leaned in close to him. "I'm sorry, but I can't- I have a deadline and a lot of writing to do. I promise I'll make it up to you." You're trying to focus on your screen rather than on him. When his lips pressed deeply against your neck, your core ached; now, he was sneaking up to your jawline. "Kook..." you whimpered quietly, reaching back and threading and tugging his hair. "Mmm..."

You were deep in thought about the next scene you wanted to write when you noticed the blanket flying up in mid-air out of the corner of your eye, and he yelled, 'no,' very clearly. You chuckled softly, wondering what he was dreaming about.

"Don't leave me," he mumbled, still asleep and unbothered.

When you returned to the screen, the laptop, which was filled with pages of meticulous work, went dark. Only 5% of the battery is left. Shit. You rose from your comfortable position on the bed to fetch the charger. Jungkook whimpered as you plugged it into the wall. It had to have been a bad dream. You looked over to see if he was all right. He was sniffling as the blanket was tucked tightly beneath his chin. You were worried and gently shook him.

"Jungkookie…Kook," you murmured as you attempted to turn him, but this bunny was massive. You tried everything you could to turn him over. He finally shifted his weight toward you, sound asleep. Your fingers gently stroked the wet streaks down his cheeks. His brow furrowed, and he scrunched up his nose. His face was filled with a deep sadness.

You reached down and cupped his cheek before gently pressing your lips against his. "Kook…" you pleaded when you pulled away.

Finally, you heard a "Hmm" as he fluttered his eyes open. Even when sleeping, he was a beauty.

You couldn't put your finger on it, but his gaze was agonizing. You held your breath because you'd never seen this look. "Are you okay? I think you had a bad dream." You continued to gently caress his cheek to comfort him.

He didn't respond. Instead, he lay there quietly beside you, intertwining your hand with his.

"What were you dreaming about?" you asked curiously, hoping he'd tell you.

Jungkook bit his lower lip, unsure whether he should say anything. You gave him a small smile, letting him know everything would be fine if he said what was on his mind. He briefly before saying, "...I dreamed you left me." Then he drew the blanket over his head to hide his embarrassment.

You struggled to pull the cover because the muscle bunny gripped it like his life depended on it. "Kook…Come on," you whined.

He finally let go, pouting like a big baby. You found him adorable when he acted like this. He mumbled something, but you couldn't make it out.

"Hmm?" Trying to egg him on.

"You left me for Jin." He eventually spat it out.

"Aww, Kook…" You laughed at his response. "So that's where your mind goes? Me cheating and leaving you?"

"Baby, don't laugh. It's not funny." He rolled back onto his side, facing away from you. Clearly upset that you were laughing at him, you couldn't help it. It was a funny dream.

"Jungkook," you urged, wriggling closer to wrap your arms around him. He didn't move. You propped yourself up and kissed his cheek. "Are you upset with me because I cheated in your dreams?" You laughed. You've had dreams where your significant other cheated on you—it was normal.

There was no response from him.

"Oh my god, you are!" you exclaimed, "I have no control over what I do in your dreams."

He turned back toward you. "And you said something, too," before returning to his previous position.

"What did I say? Hmm?"

"You said you left me because he had a bigger dick," he said, pouting again.

You burst into a boisterous cackle and threw yourself back onto the bed. "Well…does he?" you asked, teasing him.

"Noona!" he whined and pulled the covers over himself again.

"Is that why you kicked the blanket? Were you kicking his ass or something?"

Under the covers, he muttered, "Yeah..." You thought he was pretty cute right now. The thought of losing you to someone like Jin must have scared him. He was a great guy, amusing and charming, but he was no Jungkook.

You crept beneath the covers to catch his attention. You crawled on top of him, leaning down to rest your chin on his toned chest, and made imaginary circles with your finger. His gaze continues to avoid making eye contact with you.

"You do realize I don't want anyone else, right? I'm only interested in your dick." As you circled your finger around a shiny object pierced into his left nipple, you confirmed. "Is this something new?"

"Mm," he mumbled, trying his hardest not to become aroused by your touch, "it's still sensitive."

He had his nipple pierced, of course. You weren't taken aback. You wondered what other surprises you'd discover on his body. First, there are the tattoos and brow piercings. He'd only had a lip piercing a month before, and now this. You were convinced he was a masochist. You were thinking about getting yours pierced. If you did, he'd probably go insane. You couldn't, and you shouldn't.

"Is it now?" You made a sly grin. "Will doing this hurt?" You brushed your thumb gently across his pebbled nipple. He let out a small whimper as his hands instinctively gripped your waist.

"Don't…it still hurts," he pleaded with his big doe eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I kiss it to make it better?" You pouted.

You smiled to yourself as you felt the restriction in his boxers twitch at your words, knowing that he loved it when you tortured him. You lowered your mouth and pressed your lips against the cold metal, hovering over his nipple. Slowly, he began to crumble under your touch. He hissed and rolled his eyes back as soon as he felt your tongue.

"What—are you doing up this late anyway?" he asked, trying to keep his attention on you rather than your tongue.

"I was working on my script, but you distracted me with all your yelling," you smirked.

His eyes were still closed, savoring the moment because you hadn't had sex in a minute. He's been busy, and so have you. Adulting, you know. Your hand reached for the bulge in his gray sweatpants while hovering over him. You gently squeezed the hardened length, causing him to groan, desiring more of your touch.

"Should I continue?" You inquired, pressing kitten kisses across his toned chest. God, his fucking chest, chiseled by God himself.

He opened his eyes, eager for you to continue. "Yes—please."

"How much do you want it?" You demanded playfully. You were having too much fun getting your way right now.

He supported himself on his elbows. "Don't make me beg," he begged, his big soft doe eyes pleading. He despised begging and felt like a child when he did it.

"It's a lot more enjoyable when you do." It was difficult not to strip naked right now and bounce on that fat cock of his. Your pussy ached just thinking about how tightly you'd clenched your walls around it. You yearned for your own release but knew you shouldn't. It was stupid of you to keep teasing him when you were also teasing yourself.

"Please, baby…keep going." At this point, he was willing to say anything.

Ah, there it was.

You leaned in, your hands on his chest, playing with his piercings, straddling those delectable thighs. "I'm sorry I couldn't hear you," you said quietly in his ear.

"I need your hands," he said, taking yours and intertwining it with his. "Your mouth…" he said, bringing your lips to his. "…please." You slowly backed away, but not before he gently tugged on your bottom lip. He smirked as his hand slipped down to your wet, clothed pussy, knowing you couldn't resist him either.

You had only yourself to blame. You closed your eyes for a brief moment as a result of his touch, then returned to reality. "Mm, I still have a lot to write," you said as you stared at him.

"Let me help…" He lifted his oversized shirt, which you were wearing. "I'll give you some ideas." One of his hands reached for the soft flesh of your ass, while the other grabbed a handful of your breast. He sat up and looked at you with lustful eyes. He wasn't going to let you get away with it. He grinned as he watched you crumble at the slightest touch from him. He barely touched you, and yet you were already drenched.

"Goddamnit, Jeon Jungkook. Hurry up and fuck me."

Another late night spent working on scenes for the new script. You frequently listened to music to help inspire you, whether it was a line or a picture painted by the song. You were always finding little tidbits of inspiration. There was a beauty that musicians could capture with just words, evoking so much emotion, and that was what you enjoyed about making music. The ability to create something from nothing - one small idea leading to something bigger.

Jungkook was over like the previous nights. It was starting to become a habit. You probably thought it was just an excuse for him to sleep next to you, but he wasn't going to admit it. You took out your headphones and activated Bluetooth on your laptop. You thought you had it connected correctly, but as soon as you pressed the play button, the sound from your laptop blared, and Jungkook awoke in a panic.

"Who's here?!" He sat up quickly, still sleepy-eyed and squinting around the room with his arms raised, ready to jab someone. He was pumped after working out at the boxing gym. It made you laugh.

You burst out laughing. "Relax, boyfriend," you said, trying to soothe him. "Sorry, I was trying to play some music, and it didn't connect to my headphones. Go back to sleep." You moved closer to him, kissing his tattooed shoulder.

He rolled onto his side. His eyes closed, his arm draped over your thighs between you and your laptop. "Mm, please go to bed. It's getting late." He mumbled something sleepily. You weren't the only one who put in long hours over the last few weeks. He was also drowning in deadlines as he prepared for the release of another game.

“I can't. I have a lot of work to do,” you said as you tried to connect your playlist again.

Jungkook opened his eyes briefly to see what you were doing before closing them again. "You've been working nonstop for several weeks, and I miss cuddling with my baby."

You had to admit, he was cute when he was needy, which was often. "I really want to cuddle, but I'm in writing mode, and inspiration strikes when it strikes, and I have to write." Even though Jae's deadline was still a month away, you had your own deadline. It had to be flawless before you submitted it.

He moved closer to you, his cheek resting on your thighs, and looked up at you with his best pout and puppy eyes. "Please—just one teensy weensy cuddle."

"Kook...we know what'll happen if we cuddle." You weren't going to fall for his tricks again.

"Hmm, I'm not sure what you're talking about." He was trying to act as if you didn't notice his tells when he was horny. When he wanted you, he became desperate.

"I can feel your dick poking my leg," you remarked in a witty manner.

He lifted the duvet. "Goddamn, it, Little Koo. Why do you have to ruin everything?"

"You named it?"

"I name everything on my body."

"You're so weird," you chuckled at your cute and adorable boyfriend.

"You love it."

You laughed. "I do. I won't even deny it, but no cuddling. You already distracted me this week. I'll make it up to you. I promise." You leaned down to give him a quick peck. "Go back to bed. I love you."

"Love you too."

You 9:27 AM Hey, is it okay if Hyunie joins us for coffee? I forgot I made plans with her too.

Yuna 9:29 AM Yeah of course! The more the merrier.

You 9:31 AM Thanks, love you. See you soon.

You seemed to be constantly late for something. Yuna and Hyunie were already chatting when you arrived at the quaint little coffee shop wedged between a bookstore and a beauty boutique. It was great to see two of your friends get along so well. You're not sure what took so long for them to finally meet, but you're glad they did. You caught their attention by smiling and waving through the window.

"Hey! I'm sorry I'm late," you stated when you approached the two of them deep in conversation.

"Ah, don't worry about it. Here, sit down," Yuna replied. "I got you an iced americano and an orange cranberry scone."

"My favorites, thank you." Your eyes widened in delight since you didn't have time to eat anything for breakfast. After biting into the tender and flaky scone, you groaned with delight. "So…what did I miss?"

"We were just getting to know each other," Hyunie smiled.

"Did you know Hyunie is a photographer as well? If I had known, I would have hired you instead of the dummy who took photos at our wedding." Yuna's hired photographer forgot to bring a backup battery, and their camera died halfway through taking photos, leaving her with no photos from the reception. She joked about staging a "fake reception" to get a few photos.

"Yah-what? You're a photographer as well? How come I didn't realize that?" Your mouth was still full from another scone bite.

Hyunie chuckled. "Well…if you ever need photos for anything else, family photos, newborn pictures. Just let me know, and I'd be happy to do it."

"Newborn pictures? Oh goodness--I'm not ready to be a mother," Yuna emphasized. "I'm telling you now I'll have you on speed dial, though."

"How are you and Jungkookie doing?" Yuna inquired, sipping her iced americano. Despite the fact that you and Jungkook had been dating for about six months, she was still getting used to the idea of the two of you. You understood completely, and you weren't going to force her into conversations she wasn't ready for.

Your brow furrowed and a grin spread across your face. "We're doing well. We've found the sweet spot." And you were in the honeymoon phase, which was your favorite.

Yuna exclaimed, "The sweet spot, eh? I recall it as if it were yesterday. It seems like an eternity since Joon and I were there. We're now an old married couple." She was relieved you didn't tell her anything about your sexual life. She cared about you and her brother, but she didn't need to know.

"Yuna, you're such a drama queen. You've been married for only six months. You're still a newlywed couple." A huge part of you was glad you didn't marry U-jin. Imagine not knowing about his cheating until after you've been married for a while.

"But Joon and I have been together for a long time. And it's different when you're dating someone for the first time. You're starting to learn more about them, get all those butterflies, and dress up for them... I'm lucky if Joon wears jeans these day,” she said it with a sigh of dissatisfaction.

You told yourself that you'd ask her about it later because Hyunie was also with you. Yuna's mention of Joon made you appreciate Jungkook even more. Namjoon is a great guy, and you understood Yuna's point of view, but Namjoon was nothing like U-jin - thank goodness. After a long time in a relationship, the small surprises, dates, and spark begin to fade. It was only natural because you had grown accustomed to each other. But for the time being, you'll cherish every sweet moment with your Jungkookie.

You'd hit a mental snag after a week of writing. Nothing you wrote sounded right. Too many storylines, scenes, and dialogue clogged your mind. You needed something like Sherlock's Mind Palace to help you sort through everything your brain was trying to understand. You were starting to dislike what you were writing. You sat at your bedroom desk, staring at the blank page. Maybe you could finish one more page, just one more - it's not that difficult. You then heard the front door close. Jungkook's home. You were never going to finish that last page.

"Hi, honey! I'm home!" He chuckled as he set his belongings down and removed his large chunky boots. He peered inside to see where you were these days. Again, you were dressed similarly to the day before, only with a different color shirt, short-shorts, hair up, no makeup, and big-rimmed glasses - his favorite look. You only found it appropriate to steal Jungkook's clothes because he decided to take up a semi-permanent residence in your home, which he didn't mind at all. He adored seeing you in it, and you adored wearing it because it smelled exactly like him. Now, who's the weirdo.

He came up behind you as usual, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the nape of your neck with peppered kisses. "Are you working hard or hardly working?" he asked, his lips still on you.

When he started massaging your shoulders, you groaned loudly in pain. You weren't aware of how tense you were, but his warm hands felt good against the tension in your shoulders. "...barely functioning. I'm at a loss. I need to get out of my head." Today you felt like a shit writer, unable to write anything meaningful. Will you be able to meet the deadline?

Jungkook pressed a kiss against your temple. "I can help with that, and let's go do something fun."

"If your idea of fun is sex, then no," you snapped at him.

"Wow…you really are tense," he scoffed softly. He walked over to the edge of your bed. "I'll forgive you for your bluntness, but sex was not what I had in mind."

You turned to face him, regretting the words you had just spit out. "I'm so sorry. I'm just…really stressed." You stood up and walked over to him, your hands wrapped around his neck.

"It's all right, baby. I understand." He nodded softly as he grazed the back of your bare legs. He was quick to forgive, which was one of the qualities you admired in him.

You cupped his face tenderly and looked him in the eyes. "No, it's not fine. I'm sorry for snapping at you. You've been so good to me these past few weeks. You've been so wonderful to me over the last few weeks. Allowing me to be and write,” you sighed, knowing you needed a break even as you pushed yourself to finish. What was the point of attempting to write when you couldn't? "...what were you thinking?"

"Bowling," he grinned.

There were groups scattered throughout the bowling alley. You were relieved it wasn't crowded because you were terrible at bowling. You didn't want anyone to see how bad you were. The one thing Jungkook was good at was—well, everything. It irritated you at times because he was insanely good at everything without even trying. When the gods created him, they must have poured everything into him, including talent and appearance. It wasn't fair, to be honest.

You rolled your eyes as he struck out again, his third of the night. Your performance in comparison to his was embarrassing. "Wasn't this supposed to be fun?" You sighed.

While walking back to you, he did a little dance. "This is fun." He leaned down to kiss you on the cheek.

"I don't like to lose," you say, still irritated. It was finally your turn. You were determined to give it everything you had. You struggled to get to the lane after picking up the heaviest ball.

"Baby, you've got it! I have faith in you!" Jungkook applauded from behind.

Liar. He knows you suck. He's just being nice right now.

"I'll show you…Mister-I-Can-Do-Everything," you murmured as you struggled to keep the 7kg bowling ball in your grip. With your eyes fixed on the prize in front of you, you forcefully threw the ball into the lane, making a huge crashing sound. Because you threw it like a grandma, you could hear Jungkook laughing. The ball began to veer to the right, then re-centered itself before knocking down all but one. You screamed in rage at the last remaining standing pin. It was, of course, the one around the corner. "GAH—-!" You stomped back to get another bowling ball when you noticed Jungkook laughing and clapping at your failed attempt.

"Aww." He stopped to take a breath. "Baby, you were so close. Do you need help?"

"I'm a big girl," you huffed, turning your head. You stated firmly, flipping your hair back down the lane. You were a fighter.

He threw up his hands and let you do your thing. He was nearby in case you needed him to save you, which you didn't. Only one stupid pin stood between you and your pride. You narrowed your eyes, mentally commanding that last pin to fall to its death. Dramatic much? Why yes, you're a writer. You had to be.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then felt hands around your waist. "Um…what exactly are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? Helping." As he stood behind you, he smiled. "Center yourself with your target," he said quietly, almost whispering into your ear. "…be sure to keep your knees slightly bent. Straight down to your side with your arm." You followed his instructions. "Keep your back slightly forward, your arm back, and always follow through."

You nodded in response to his instructions. He kissed your shoulder before stepping back, and you followed his instructions. As the ball sailed toward the last pin, knocking it down, your eyes widened. You jumped up and down with joy after defeating that stupid pin.

Jungkook chuckled as you strutted back to him and sat in his lap. "You're very welcome." He smirked stupidly at the victory he had helped you achieve.

"Nuh-uh. I did that all by myself."

"Yeah, with my assistance," he smugly teased. You didn't want to admit it, but he did give you some useful advice. He poked you on the side, and you flinched. "Yah—" he said once more, doing the same thing. You couldn't help but smile before kissing him on the lips.

"Yah--" He poked you on the side, making you flinch. "Yah--" he repeated again, doing the same thing. You couldn't help but smile, then planted a kiss on his lips.

"Thanks, boyfriend. I owe you one."

"That's more like it." He patted your thigh. "Kay, my turn now." He proceeded to get up.

"It's your turn, huh?" You gave him a sly smile before darting off to grab a bowling ball and hurriedly hurling it down the lane to ruin his winning streak.

When he realized what you were doing, he chased you down and grabbed you from behind. You laughed in an attempt to get out from under him. "Yah, my streak!" He cried, disappointed, but he didn't mind as long as you had fun.

He was right. This took your mind off of everything. You were happy at this moment, thankful that he would always be there to make things in life more enjoyable.

✨ next ~ hot tubs and clubs: part one

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook noona #jungkook drama #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts smut #fic: this is us

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actualbird · 2 years ago

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Hey Zak!

I just read your analysis on marius and emotional distancing and I agree! I think on top of that, he's also the type to bottle it up, if that's the right term for it.

There's one Marius scene that really stuck with me, above all the romantic stuff. (i don't remember which story it's from, i just remember what he did). Marius was talking about something traumatizing, then in the blink of an eye, he was smirking at us, all smug and asking us if we really fell for it.

Once I noticed that, I start noticing it in all Marius angst stories. Every time he talks about something traumatizing, he typically changes the topic in the middle. Which is to be expected when it's something that traumatizes him, but the thing is, the trauma gets mentioned, and we see him being vulnerable. Then, it's like a switch flicks in his head. Like "Oh wait, I'm talking to jiejie", and he immediately clams up and starts teasing us, going back to the flirty brat we met at the start.

I can't think of a single time when he mentions something traumatizing, and we actually get him being completely vulnerable as he tells us about it all, not just part of it before he swaps to flirty and confident mode.

I was kidding when I told some of my friends that "marius is the type to be having an emotional breakdown and saying 'i'm fine, it's fine, why do you think i need help'", but now I think it could actually happen.

irt analysis on marius and emotional distancing

hi roshie-writes!! first off, im v sorry im getting to this ask very late OTL but im happy to hear u agree with that analysis :D

additionally, this ask is rlly interesting cuz yEPPPPPP, I AGREE ON ALL THIS TOO

that whole thing of Drops Vulnerability And Then Shifts To Playful Aloofness is SO VERY common in marius stories, and i personally first clocked it in the Lost Gold event. in like, the very first scene of his LG route, marius tells mc that she must think him naive for wanting to trust bryce and in general just confesses some insecurities hes got. and then the moment mc shows him sincerity, concern, and worry, he immediately shifts and is like "AWWWW UR WORRIED ABOUT ME >:3c" which makes me (and mc) wanna affectionately strangle him.

another more recent instance of this tendency happens in his blossom chapter personal story 4, right when he actually tells the full story of the Basement Incident. and then not like 5 lines after that, he gets flirty, glosses OVER ALL OF THAT WORRYING INFORMATION, and then says "Yeah, that's my good girl" to mc with a smirk on his face.

this personal story 4 instance stands out to me for three reasons:

1) simply cuz the Basement Incident full story lives in my mind rent free and

2) the "Yeah, that's my good girl" is notorious cuz i regularly see screencaps of that line do rounds on twt with ppl simping over it, me included, cuz my god marius KNOWS how to be flirty, like, lemme just drop the screencap cuz Im Not Immune To Marius von Hagen

and 3) the fact that this above screencap regularly makes rounds w ppl going crazy over how hes a flirty bastard (affectionate) really makes me go nuts cuz.....aGAIN. HE DID THIS LIKE 2 SECONDS AFTER CONFESSING HE NEARLY DIED AS A CHILD. LIKE...to an extent, his deflection here worked even outside of the realm of the in-game story itself, it's working on the players too cuz we're busy going MARIUS! VON! HAGEN! over the flirting that, again, attention is taken away from the thing he doesnt want anybody to pay attention to

HE CANT KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS........

i talk a little bit abt this bait-n-switch tendency of his in an old analysis i wrote, marius von hagen, facade vs. sincerity, harsh truths vs. persisting hope, and my thought abt this tendency hasnt changed from the insight i gathered back then, which went:

marius casually has the tendency to “act” a certain way to get things like praise and reassurance, which could arguably interpreted as him using facades (which in this situation i think is actually him just saying theyre facades, theyre actually sincere, but he hides that, says it’s just an act) to acquire the deep seated sincerity he wishes. here, facade is a medium by which to acquire sincerity from others.

this is partly because of what you say which i agree with. he still wants people to care about him (because thats an innately human desire we All want) but at some point, he realizes hes talking to mc and hes gotta dial it back. and why does he dial it back? because he doesnt want her to worry. she matters to him, and he doesnt want her to be upset over him, so shifting the conversation into something playful can effectively stop worry in its tracks or, at the very least, delay it.

but i also think this is because revealing these gutpunch things like trauma or insecurities is, at the end of the day, a vulnerability

and marius is in a position where he cannot be vulnerable. vulnerability can put him (and maybe even people who matter to him too) in danger.

as much as his deflection, disconnection, and repression is a method for him to deal with his own things himself, these methods are also a way for him to protect against others. he needs to act like these vulnerabilities dont matter to him at all, because then theyre less likely to become weakpoints for an enemy to exploit.

and marius is also in a position where hes got a Lot of enemies. so many people would quite like it if they had something to hold over the head of Pax, mr interim-CEO himself

it's at times like these i really appreciate that marius' nxx codename is King, because it is sosososoososoo fitting for him, specifically due to the chess definition of the term.

the king is simultaneously the most important piece (which garners many enemies and ensures everybody wants to be able to put the king in check or checkmate), AND arguably the weakest piece too (full of vulnerabilities and weakpoints that need to be Constantly guarded against). the king is literally a piece thats meant to be hunted and protected, because thats the entire point of the game, and thats a lot of what marius has to deal with too. marius, to me, feels like hes constantly playing 4D chess in an effort to protect himself and make it look like hes protecting no weakpoints at all, weakpoints Dont Exist, if u saw them, no u didnt, because he needs to appear invincible

all eyes are always on him, for better or for worse. and when everybody is watching, allies and enemies alike, it seems way smarter to just hide and minimize vulnerability completely than to risk getting stabbed in the back for it.

#roshie-writes #asks #marius von hagen #tears of themis #the marius urge to make zak write a ridiculously long block of text. he CANT KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS ALSO!!!

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hall0ween-twn · 2 years ago

Text

LITTLE MISS STRANGE lyrics prompts

choose between corey, eddie or steve for a prompt with angst, fluff or smut. one lyric at a time please.

a/n: i'm not good at angst or fluff but i really wanted to use this as a practice. also, i just love this au and the story i've gotten to create with clemkruckinnie so much!! these songs are from my playlists and thought that fit the au a lot.

1 “your face on my ceiling, i fantasize.” 🎵 prisoner, miley cyrus feat. dua lipa

2 “i need somebody with a human touch.” 🎵 stop, spice girls

3 “but i made up my mind, i'm keeping my baby.” 🎵 papa don’t preach, madonna

4 “i'm the reason why you can't get to sleep.” 🎵 tangled up in me, skye sweetnam

5 “why do you only promise underneath the stars?” 🎵 in the dark, ava max

6 “i wish i’d never seen your face.” 🎵 change, pale waves

7 “if you really did care about me, it wouldn’t take another man to make you understand that you want me.” 🎵 same ol’ same ol’, pyt

8 “the only thing i’m guilty of is giving you too much love.” 🎵 this is me, dream

9 “it's as if you know me better than i ever knew myself.” 🎵 pieces of me, ashlee simpson

10 “is there someone else? is there a place for me?” 🎵 summer night town (english version), coconuts musume

11 “but then i understand, the friend i’m dreaming of is far away.” 🎵 show me how, men i trust

12 “darling, if you only knew, all the things that flow through my mind.” 🎵 fantasy, mariah carey

13 “i'm more than willing to rot in hell with you.” 🎵 eternally yours, motionless in white

14 “does your mother know that you’re out?” 🎵 does your mother know, abba

15 “they’re bringing up my history but you weren’t even listening.” 🎵 lavender haze, taylor swift

16 “i fell in love with that person i see everyday.” 🎵 romantic ukare mode, miki fujimoto

17 “you take my hand, and you say you've changed.” 🎵 too little too late, jojo

18 “it’s useless crying over how i was too late to be honest with you.” 🎵 bitansan, juice=juice

19 “you're not the one i'm supposed to love.” 🎵 tell my mama, christina grimmie

20 “we were right 'til we weren't.” 🎵 flowers, miley cyrus

21 “i thought it was a one-sided love, but was i wrong?” 🎵 crazy about you, minimoni

22 “no one else has made me fall as hard as what i have for you.” 🎵 no one else, reachback

23 “baby don't be gentle, i can handle anything.” 🎵 right where you want me, jesse mccartney

24 “and i only need a little time to satisfy this craving that i'm feeling inside.” 🎵 scary, britney spears

25 “i want to treasure my smile for the person i love.” 🎵 i wish, morning musume

26 “i hate the way you still know everything about me.” 🎵 unforgettable, the best week ever

27 “i can't contain my joy 'cause i finally found the boy i've been missing.” 🎵 i can hear the bells, hairspray

28 “guess mine is not the first heart broken.” 🎵 hopelessly devoted to you, grease

29 “shut your mouth and lose them tighty-whities!” 🎵 dead girl walking, heathers

30 “possible she wants you too.” 🎵 kiss the girl, the little mermaid

#[twn] little miss strange au #[twn] lyrics prompts #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut

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dynamic-k · 5 months ago

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sighhsss... yet ANOTHER ask from me XD

This surprisingly is just one question. unless I come up with more as I write.

But when Blue and Red were looking through the public telescope, the description said something like 'thousands of IP addresses littered the sky', as well as 'wifi tunnels' etc. (I would get the quote but my internet is going to cut in like a few minutes)

Soooo... Is 'the human world' real in Super Sticks?

If so, why is Alan and Kaori still in the 'stick world'?

WAIT IS DJ HERE???

...i just thought of something.

In 'The Spark', chapter 4 is named 'Otherworldly', and there are hints of there being other worlds throughout the first 4 chapters. not sure about the 5th one, I haven't looked through it carefully

Therefore, IF there are other worlds, BOTH in Super Sticks and The Spark, CROSSOVER?!?

YOOOO- ok i need to go to sleep now. I'll think about it tomorrow and report ramble back in another ask!

Good night! :D

-R

Oh no, my plans are being predicted- /j

Okay, no, I'm kidding. XD I didn't have a crossover planned, the universes are separate. AUs!! :D Ehehehe

...But I am really glad you picked up on some Spark AU lore~~ :3 I have so SO SO MUCH to unpack there!!! ...f you ask me about it, I might go full-on essay mode with my answer- :I

[Chapter 5 of The Spark is mostly fluff, with some conversational lore that hints at future angst, but none of that alluded further to the "Otherworldly" branch of lore. :3 (I do hope you enjoy💕)]

The human world is real in Super Sticks!! I have alluded to this a few times, like how Dark was totally much better than "that Iron Man guy" he'd seen in a human movie once.

The sticks are aware there are humans, but every stick lives in the Outernet, unable to communicate with humans, unable to interact with humans, unable to prove their own existence to humans. (not like anyone wants to, though)

In Super Sticks, Alan and Kaori are just sticks and not all-powerful creators, giant humans behind a screen and whatnot. Part of the AU is also the fact that hollowheads are caused by a rare genetic in stick figures, of which the Becker family is prominent in since Alan [a hollowhead] married Kaori [another hollowhead], hence the kids are all more hollowheads and quite the unusual bunch. But, there are probably a few other random hollowheads somewhere in Stick City or in other nearby towns.

[Though, I do not personally have any plans to make up hollowhead OCs or any interactions. All I do is make the fact known that others exist, and move on with my day-]

Is DJ here? I don't think so? Maybe, but he's far off in another town? I have no clue how to write DJ!! ...Actually, wait, no I think I could pull that off, I watch enough AvG- BUT STILL! I don't have practice-

= w = Maybe some day? I'll give it a shot or something, I like exploring new things. On a good day. Maybe give me a coffee first- I haven't had one yet today, but I've been awake long enough I'm somewhat coherent for ask answering. ..Hopefully.

:3 Have good sleeperings! I shall work on the other one currently still in my inbox, and hopefully get all cleared up so I can await more asks-

Honestly, with Super Sticks somewhat being on a mini-hiatus at the moment --both due to mild writer's block on one little scene of chapter 8, and also due to a draft situation in which I can only access a certain document on my phone and still have to earn said phone back from Mom so I can continue where I left off-- ...with all that happening, these asks are really helping my brain to continue simmering the AU on a central burner in my mind stove!

Oh, Spark AU, my pride and joy, my beloved world born from a dream. That also is on a central burner. I don't often ask for asks- But uh-

WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE I LOVE RAMBLING ABOUT SPARK AU-

okaybyenow, sorryformyweirdness-

#Ask Scarlett #The Spark AU #Scarlett Post #Super Sticks AU #actually wait #now that I'm thinking about it...........#..........#.......................#NOW I'M IN A CROSSOVER MOOD!!!#WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!?!?!#NOW I /WANT/ TO CROSSOVER SPARK AU AND SUPER STICKS!!!#ESKFHAEJRGAEKBKSGNBJKX #*sounds of dying because brainrot*

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naivesilver · 1 year ago

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ASK MEME HUH? 😏 prepare yourself here :^)

okay okay so. (for the kid fic ask) 2 or 8 (toddler) or 3 (teenager)? with any parent child combination you feel like

I know this is a prime chance to write some angst but I have entered silly mode at some point lately so you get AU silliness only SLIGHTLY tinged with angst, I hope that's alright ssadkajshdnkbfk

(It also got longer than I'd anticipated, F in the chat for us all)

Kid/Parent Fic Prompts

3. "Everyone makes mistakes, it's okay."

"Hey, August, your dad said I'd find you..." Emma trails off, stopping halfway through the door as she takes in the scene before her. "...here. What are you guys doing?"

To Marco's credit, his son is, in fact, sitting in the shed just like the man had said. The only issue is that he's not alone - in fact, a swooping three of the kids in his care are crowded around him, typewriter pushed to the side as they peer at something taking center place on the table.

August looks up from it momentarily to shoot her a slight grin, which does nothing to soothe her confusion. "Scientific research."

"On a lamp? Thought that had been patented a while ago."

"Yes, but this is a monad lamp. We're trying to figure out if there's actually a cricket in here."

Emma's gaze moves to the object in question, eyebrows raised. "And that other guy's letting you? Isn't this literally attached to his hip most of the time?"

"We traded for the day!" The smallest of the puppets chirps excitedly, all but bouncing on August's knee. "Gina's showing him around, and we get to hang out with Gemini!"

"I see."

The problem with these kids, in Emma's mind, is that while they might have fairly contrasting personalities, there's something in them that betrays their connection even at first glance. Cedar's a sweet girl and the strange one with the metal arm is prone to brooding, and the two younger boys (she needs to find better nicknames to differentiate them than Big One and Little One, honestly - they bring to mind Tweedledee and Tweedledum, sometimes, but they'd probably take offense to that) are just unruly children like any other, and still they all share faint traces of past events that make her understand August a little bit more.

Right now, for example, the man has got a boy perched on his lap and Cedar leaning onto his shoulder, the other boy sitting on the tabletop with his ruined legs dangling over the edge, and yet they're all looking at her like they're about to tell her to take a leap of faith...or blow something up and ask her for help, at least, given Big Pinocchio's tendencies and those of the guy they call P. Emma should be backing away before it's too late, honestly.

"Doesn't that thing talk, anyway?" She hears herself asking instead, as if that were the most pressing matter. "Can't you just ask?"

"He's recharging," Cedar replies, ever the most helpful of them all. "That's why P left him at home. Grandfather said Gemini's not allowed to be around us unsupervised anymore, since the last time he tried to teach some nasty words to-"

"Hey!" The Pinocchio sitting on the table glares at her, a thunderous look on his face. "That's none of your business! Don't be a snitch!"

"It's not snitching if it's true! You only want to know because you've got a point to prove, anyway."

The boy sniffs haughtily, turning away. "I don't need to prove anything. I'm right. We've all got a cricket, so P should have one too."

"You're wrong. I never got a cricket, and Dad doesn't have one either-"

Emma can clearly see August barely stifling a laugh, the bastard. "Don't let Jiminy hear you say that, Cedar- I can assure you, he helped me quite a lot before he got a degree."

"I don't have a cricket," the little one says, beaming, seemingly unbothered by the squabble. "I just have Gina."

"Gina counts."

"Gina does not count, she's a duck." Cedar sighs, shaking her head of dark curls. "Why are you so worried about this, anyway? Your cricket isn't here, either."

One would expect Big Pinocchio to have a snappish retort for that, as well, and yet, none comes. Instead he seems to curl even further into himself, his glower even deeper, like a turtle tucking head and tail into its shell. "Yeah, but he was there," he mutters, much lower than before. "No one else could see him, so they thought I was making him up, but I wasn't. He was real, and I wasn't crazy."

The two adults exchange a look, the mood grown a tad more somber all of a sudden. This, perhaps, is the other thing these children have in common, and it's much less amusing than the first one - they have had some awful experiences already, for being so young, and sometimes they mention it in such an offhanded way, it sounds like everyday stuff, like making the bed or running errands.

Maybe it was everyday stuff for them, before. That doesn't make it more reassuring, either.

"That's okay." August sounds softer, too, as he leans closer to the boy and tries to meet his eyes. "We know you're not crazy. Those boys in your old school- they didn't have the full picture. Everyone makes mistakes, when they don't have the full picture."

And that, a smidge more teasing, once he has finally gotten Pinocchio to look up: "And I mean everyone. You know, Emma here, she didn't believe I was made of wood, in the beginning. Guess who proved her wrong later."

"Seriously?" Emma exhales heavily, relieved that her friend has been able to handle the situation so well and yet resigned to the fact that August continues to be, well, himself. "You only butt into this argument to throw me to the wolves?"

"You wouldn't want me to get in the way of a scientific debate, do you?"

If this were a normal conversation between the two of them, she would tell him to stop being so cheeky; but as it is, there are three more people in the room with them right now, people who have barely stopped looking wary and guarded before returning to their analysis of an otherworldly piece of machinery. There is little Emma can do beside playing along, distracting them from whatever effects the past still has on them all. She owes them that, at least.

"Alright," she says, dragging a spare stool closer and finding a spot near the table, mindless to how Cedar moves to lean on her instead, as is the nature of things.

"Let's crack this, then. I came over to ask something else, but you guys got to me. Show me what you've got, Gemini."

#okay I know I wasn't very good at looking out for henry but I DID try so #please keep an eye on these little idiots if I can't #lizardthelizard #ask meme #fanfic #ouat #au: stray saplings #LOOK I SETTLED ON A TAG #also I'm going to go on a tangent now sorry not sorry #because I'm an “emma and august are besties” truther first and foremost #but I am CERTAIN that eventually he'd be like #she's like. their fairy godmother but better cause she isn't a fairy #she's got...mixed feelings about her godchildren tho #cedar? wonderful. genuinely looks up to emma. as normal as a kid in her situation can be #the baby? traumatized but sweet. you can't have beef with a 5yo #but p and mokku? they would TEST her patience even though the former isn't even a child technically #regina would find it extremely amusing #pinocchio #kashi no ki mokku #anyway august as a passable father figure who at least is TRYING and emma as the tired aunt who loves those kids a lot but needs a fk drink

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