#somebody write a fic or I’ll do it myself
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When Mischa died in the cyclone accident something was impaled through his wounded fragile heart you agree
#ride the cyclone#mischa bachinski#idk what else to tag#but ough the narrative that would bring to connect to his catchphrase#somebody write a fic or I’ll do it myself#(I did kind of already just a little bit)
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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru
gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)
content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)
author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.
this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
“so… let me get this straight.”
“go ahead.”
shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”
“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”
“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.
“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”
“do you… do you share any classes with him?”
“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”
“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.
all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.
it’s hard to forget about gojo.
not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…
...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.
the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.
“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”
speak of the devil.
there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.
you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.
“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.
you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.
pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-
“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”
“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”
your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.
“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”
“what did you just call me?!-”
“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”
“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.
“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”
“how could i not? you’re so cute.”
“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”
the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.
he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.
when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”
he’s relentless. “why do you care?”
“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”
you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”
“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“
“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.
some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.
“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.
“i don’t need your money…”
“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.
“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”
that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”
“do you promise? like, actually?”
“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.
“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.
“i also want your number.”
you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.
“what do you have me saved as?”
the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.
you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.
“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“
“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”
“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“
“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”
“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.
“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.
he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.
“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“
the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.
from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.
gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.
you push him away.
everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.
you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.
and that thought alone scares you.
still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.
the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.
“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”
“satoru-“
“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.
“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”
you take back everything you just said.
a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.
you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”
he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”
“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”
“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.
“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.
you try to ignore how that makes you feel.
and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.
you’re in love with gojo satoru.
and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.
and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.
you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.
the reason why you want to stick around too.
you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”
“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.
you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.
it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.
you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.
it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.
shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.
the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.
it was your ex.
your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.
if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.
you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.
out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.
“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.
“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”
you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.
“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”
your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”
“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”
“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.
you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.
you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.
the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.
“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”
you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”
“oh, don’t even get me started.”
he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”
“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”
he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”
“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.
the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”
you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”
“kento nanami.”
“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”
“i’m just doing my job.”
“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”
“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”
“y/n l/n.”
“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”
“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”
“did something happen?”
“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”
“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”
he gets to the cafe in five.
you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.
it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.
however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”
your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.
“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”
“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.
“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.
“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.
“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.
you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”
still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.
i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.
“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”
that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.
the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?
“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”
“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.
“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”
“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”
“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”
you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“
“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.
“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”
“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.
“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”
he cuts you off. “you… what?”
you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.
“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.
this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.
“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.
you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”
gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.
a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.
“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”
he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”
“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.
“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”
he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”
“i love you, y/n.”
“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.
he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.
“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.
“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.
gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”
“hmph. alright.”
“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”
“satoru!”
“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”
this night is going amazing.
when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.
“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.
it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.
“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.
“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.
“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.
“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”
“oh? do tell.”
“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”
“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.
“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”
“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”
“hey, i wanted to know more!-”
“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”
“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.
suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”
“duh. it’s a classic.”
“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.
suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”
satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”
you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”
he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”
“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.
you wish you never did.
you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.
on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.
fuck.
you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.
what bullshit that was.
your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.
so you do.
you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.
of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.
stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.
when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?
he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.
he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.
they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”
“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.
“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”
he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”
“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”
geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.
“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.
gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.
part 2 :)
#kami writes#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru comfort#gojo x reader angst#gojo angst#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x y/n
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Hey, can I make a request for your event?
Fyodor x fem!reader, except he's madly in love with her but doesn't accept it bc he thinks it's useless :)
@Fyodor Dostoevsky . . . (^-^)
Tags: smitten!fyodor, fluff, angst if you squint, gn!reader, domestic Fyodor, kinda ooc, vol 14+ doesn’t exist, yandere themes if you get 400+ graded glasses
A/N: Hello anon !! I’m so sorry this took so long, probably 2-4 months (?) I’ve been so busy with school that I just didn’t have time for requests. I’ll treat my fics like those “mafia!dazai who…” type of posts, if that makes sense. I know it’s a big change from my old writing style but I really hope you would still like it :))
smitten!fyodor who met you while walking around Yokohama. He asked you for directions one day and as faith would have it that was the exact place you were going to as well. Although, he didn’t actually need directions, he just wanted to test his skills in deceit.
“Excuse me miss, pardon me for being a bother. Could you please tell me where the nearest train is?” You softly smiled at the gentleman who had gotten your attention. “Of course, I was just heading there myself, you could just follow me if you’d like.”
smitten!fyodor who was fond of the way you spoke to him in such a polite manner. It was endearing to have someone be so courteous (bare minimum, I know).
smitten!fyodor whose voice you couldn’t forget. Softer than silk yet even the sun itself would revolve around its gravity.
smitten!fyodor who “accidentally” bumps into you from time to time. It’s been going on for several months now and during the first few times you jokingly accused him of stalking you.
“Fyodor-san? This is the fourth time this month, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me!” You teased. He responded to your joke with a small chuckle.
smitten!fyodor who denies feeling anything for you since he thinks it would hinder his plans for a better world. He constantly tells himself that it’ll pass, but each day he spends with you feels like a dream.
smitten!fyodor who reassures himself that this was all part of his master plan; that you were just another pawn in his epic chess match with Dazai. Surely someone as simple as you couldn’t destroy his plans, right?
smitten!fyodor who tells himself that keeping you happy is all part of his mission to save the world. When he’s overthinking his actions around you he tells himself that he only keeps you happy because a world where you’re sad confuses and frustrates him—oops, wrong thought!
What frustrates him further is the fact that he can no longer tell himself that you’re just a pawn. He never has internal struggles, so how could you do this to him? For years and years he chased his ideals. He tried to attain the unattainable, he never thought something as simple as affection could be that unattainable thing.
smitten!fyodor who saw you on a date with somebody else and he felt like that was God’s way of telling him that he should continue to fulfill his mission rather than chase someone who clearly doesn’t like him back.
Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !
#bsd angst#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs headcanons#bungo stray dogs#fyodor x gn!reader#fyodor#dostoevsky#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor dostoevsky x reader#yandere fyodor#smitten fyodor#smitten!fyodor x reader#smitten!fyodor x gn!reader#x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#dazaidarlingposted#tojifile
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Emotions Pt 2 | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Reader
Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18+ ONLY!!!, cunnilingus, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), discussions of grief
Word Count: 3110
A/N: Hi! Trying to work on my requests to give myself a bit of an escape from what’s going on in my personal life right now. I am combining requests I was getting for a part 2 to my Sam x Angel!Reader fic with another request from much later in the queue, so I did have to jump around in the order of my fic requests! I hope that’s okay!
General Writings Masterlist
Pt 1
If you thought humans were strange and intriguing before, being human was even stranger. Your existence had been predictable before you met Sam Winchester. And now, you were feeling and experiencing multitudes you hadn’t known to be possible. Navigating the full scape of human emotion was incredibly difficult and draining at times. Thoughts you’d never had emotion assigned to would cross your mind at random times of the day. And suddenly, you’d be sniffling and trying to control the tears forming in your eyes.
Sam had gotten good at navigating these moments with you. He would talk about your feelings with you very openly and share some of his own.
The first time you realized that Sam would one day die, possibly leaving you on earth alone, you were horrified.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, seeing you trying to hold back tears while staring at the ground.
“You’re gonna die one day,” you said plainly.
“Uh, yeah,” he snorted. “Yeah, I am.”
“It’s not funny,” you snapped, eyes flashing to his.
He shook his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He sat down on the chair across from you. “Just caught me off-guard, ‘s all,” Sam replied. “What brought that on?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… came over me all of a sudden. Does that not scare you?”
He considered for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” you asked.
“ ‘Cause somebody told me Heaven’s real—” he nudged your knee with his, making you huff out a small laugh— “and maybe I’ll get to see my mom. Actually meet her.”
“But what am I supposed to do?” you asked.
Sam stared at you for a moment.
“You’re my best friend, Sam. What am I supposed to do if you die first?” you asked, eyes becoming glassy again.
“What you did before me,” he replied simply. “You just gotta keep going.”
“No offense, Sam, but you’ve been a complete mess without Dean.”
“That’s different. He’s my brother,” Sam said.
Your gaze was soft, but it held intensity. So much so that it made Sam squirm beneath it.
“What?” he asked.
“I don’t think it’s different,” you sniffed. “I just think it’s— oh, what’s that word— grief.”
Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you.
“And I think that because you know what you know, you’re convinced that there’s some way to bring him back. And because you can’t do it, you’re not allowing yourself to accept the grief. You’re just… kinda… stuck,” you finished.
A heavy silence blanketed the air.
“Y’know, for an angel with zero understanding of human emotion, that was pretty good,” the young man chuckled.
A genuine smile spread across your face.
****
Even with Dean gone, you could see Sam starting to heal. You hoped you played a large part in that. However, you were growing curious as to why you hadn’t heard the angels talking about Castiel retrieving Dean. What were they waiting on?
Ruby hadn’t shown her face, either, much to your surprise. You assumed she could feel that you were here and decided to make herself scarce. A wise choice on her part, if you did say so yourself.
Sam’s demon blood addiction would sometimes cripple him. On those days where his withdrawals or cravings would get bad, you would sit on the couch or the kitchen floor with his head in your lap and allow him to cry or sleep until the pain subsided. Sometimes, he’d get angry with himself for not being strong enough to push through the affliction on his own, to which you’d remind him that not many humans survive demon blood addiction as well as he had.
“It fucking hurts, (Y/N),” Sam told you, shivering beside you. Sweat beaded at every pore, and his face was flushed.
You held a wet rag to the back of his neck while he clutched at your knee.
“I know, Sammy—”
“Why didn’t you just let me have it? Maybe I could find Lilith if you’d just—”
You cut him off, trying not to get angry with him. “Sam, no.”
“—But (Y/N)—”
“No.” You pushed yourself off the couch and turned to sit on the ground so that you were eyelevel with him. “I will not let you do that to yourself again. Do you hear me?”
Sam grimaced with watery eyes, but he nodded.
“I— I can’t watch that happen to you,” you said, tears catching in your throat. It was surprising to find yourself unable to express yourself evenly and coherently as you always had, but your emotion seemed to help you get through to Sam more.
The other angels had no idea what they were missing.
***
When you were an angel, you truly didn’t have an internal dialogue. And now, your mind was flooded with constant thought. Occasionally, it was burdensome, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Before, all you had was experience and memory. It was as if you were entirely continuous with your environment, and you took everything around you at surface value. There was no internal reflection.
“That’s called ‘sonder’,” Sam explained to you.
“What is?” you asked, temporarily looking away from the river below you.
You’d discovered a creaky, wooden bridge over a rushing stream on a walk through the forest with Sam.
“What you just said. Realizing that everybody has their own experiences, and thoughts, and lives entirely separate from yours,” he continued.
You gently kicked your feet back and forth over the edge of the bridge with your arms crossed over the railing in front of you. Sam sat beside you, watching you. “Does it ever get overwhelming?” you asked him, thinking maybe you were the only one feeling so burdened by thought as a result of your new status as a human.
“What?” Sam asked.
“Feeling. Thinking,” you elaborated, unable to look at him out of fear that he may judge you.
“Yeah, frequently.” He nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “But, uh, certain things make it better.”
That caught your attention, as his tone sounded a bit loaded. “What things?”
He kept his gaze down but nudged your shoulder with his. “Certain angels.”
A wide smile spread across your face. “Certain Sam Winchesters make it better for me, too.”
He returned your expression.
***
The fall months were upon you. The cabin you stayed in with Sam was where you first discovered what “warmth” was as you sat by the fire. Now, though, a different feeling encompassed you.
It started slowly; ignorable, almost. First, small little bumps formed on your arms while you brought the trash out to the dumpster about a mile away from the cabin. Then, you felt like the wind was blowing through your body. You tried your hardest to ignore the feeling, but soon, it felt like your insides were shaking.
It freaked you out, to say the least. And when you lifted the lid of the dumpster to put your trash inside, your fingers were blue. In fact, you almost couldn’t feel them at all.
“What the fuck,” you muttered.
Afraid of what was happening to you, you began running all the way back to the cabin. When you nearly broke the door down with your entry, Sam jumped to his feet. “Whoa, (Y/N), what the hell?”
You were panting, hunched over, and panicking. “Something— is happening…” you swallowed thickly, “to me.”
Sam rushed over to you, bending down to your level and tucking your hair behind your ear. “What? Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” you breathed out. You looked down at your fingertips and realized they weren’t blue anymore. “Wait, where’d it go?”
You and Sam both straightened up, and you continued to search your fingers for the discoloration.
“Where’d what go?” Sam questioned.
“My— My fingers were blue just a minute ago,” you explained.
“Blue?” he repeated.
You nodded. “And my insides were shaking.”
A small smile began to pull at the ends of Sam’s lips. “Did you also have little bumps on your arms?”
Your eyes snapped to his. “How’d you know that?”
“You’re a seraph. You’ve been around for forever, and you got scared of the wind?” Sam asked.
“The wind didn’t do that to me,” you said pitifully, “it’s never done that before.”
Sam laughed.
“It’s not funny,” you pouted grouchily.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam continued. “You just got cold, (Y/N).”
You furrowed your brow.
“Here,” the brunet continued. He opened the door for you, and you walked out of it hesitantly. The first of the Autumn leaves had fallen to the ground and crunched under your feet as you made your way out.
Sam followed behind, and the two of you stood beside each other silently. You looked up at the trees rustling in the wind, and small wisps of your hair began to lift away from your face. And then, you felt the little bumps forming on your arms again. You looked down, a little less afraid this time.
“See? Just the wind,” Sam explained.
Then, a shiver ripped down your spine, and your body began to shake from the feeling.
“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” he said. Once you were, Sam offered you the jacket that was laying on the back of a chair in the kitchen. You wrapped yourself in it while he continued to tend the fire.
“It’s probably gonna get cooler tonight, too,” he explained, dusting his hands off and standing from the ground. “This room’s the only one with heat in it.”
Your eyes widened in worry, as your shivering hadn’t stopped even with the jacket wrapped around you.
Sam chuckled with fondness at your expression. “You can take my bed.”
“But won’t you be cold, too?” you asked through your clattering teeth.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.” Off your look, he continued. “Seriously. I’m kinda a human furnace.”
“C’mere, then,” you asserted.
The brunet seemed caught off-guard.
“Please?” you begged. “I’m still cold.”
Hesitantly, he sat on the couch beside you and opened his arms to you. You shuffled across the couch to where you were curled into his chest between his outstretched legs. Sam relaxed against the arm of the couch and wrapped his strong arms around you.
With a look that almost bordered on pleading, you pulled back from his chest and stared up at him. His eyes seemed to almost search your face before he began to lean down toward you. Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, you leaned up to press your lips to his.
Sam immediately groaned at the contact, and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hands explored the curves of your waist. When his hand grazed the underside of your breast, you took in a sharp breath.
Immediately, Sam broke the kiss. “Is this okay?”
Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your breast. An intense lust clouded his eyes, and Sam pulled your head back toward his while he kneaded your breast in his hand.
Heat flooded your thighs, and you were a bit overwhelmed by the feeling. Your breath quickened as you allowed Sam to push your shirt up over your head.
He broke the kiss again only to say, “Bed, now.”
You nodded eagerly, pressing your lips back against his. He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. With you pressed so closely to him, you subconsciously began to grind against him as he carried you over to his bed in the corner of the room. He gently laid you on the bed and pressed his forehead to yours, panting. “You can’t— You can’t do that.”
“What?” you asked timidly. “Did I do something wrong?”
Sam shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. “No, no, you’re fine. But I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you keep doing that.”
Hesitantly, you planted your feet on the bed on either side of his hips and began to grind up into him.
A challenge in Sam’s eyes, he leaned back down to kiss you with an unrivaled passion. His hands roamed your torso, careful to avoid the band of your sweatpants. Gently, he ran his hands along the band of your bra. “Can I take this off?”
You nodded feverishly, breath quickening. As soon as he’d gotten it off, Sam began to kiss down your chest while kneading your breasts in his hands. He continued to kiss down your stomach, nipping at the soft flesh every once in a while. When he was eye-level with your clothed pussy, he asked, “Can I take these off?” running his hands over your clothed hips.
You nodded, but Sam could tell something was wrong. “What is it?” He straightened up.
“I’ve just never done this before,” you said honestly.
“It’s okay,” Sam told you. “If you wanna stop, we can stop.”
You quickly shook your head “no.” “Don’t stop, please.”
He chuckled and began to take your sweatpants and underwear down your hips slowly, teasingly.
“Please, Sam,” you said. “I don’t know what this feeling is, but I need you here.” You took his hand and brought it near your throbbing cunt.
He took in a sharp breath, almost seeming unable to contain himself. “Can I touch you?” he asked.
You nodded eagerly, and he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the bed before dragging his fingers through your folds. You keened while his long, thick fingers circled your clit. He then pulled your thighs toward his face and dove between them, lapping at your clit like a man starved. Your hands flew to his head, and he grabbed them, lacing your fingers together. Sam held your hands on either side of your body, gently stroking them with his thumbs in contrast to the fierceness he was eating you out with.
“God, Sam!” you cried, grinding your hips into his face. That simply spurred him on more.
Suddenly, what felt like a knot began to form in your lower stomach. “Wait, Sam,” you said, as the knot began to tighten.
He pulled away from you, bringing his fingers back to your clit while he crawled over the top of you. “Uh-huh?” he asked.
You continued to grind down onto his fingers, closing your eyes at the pleasurable feeling. “Something—” you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out, “Something’s happening.”
Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s normal.”
You nodded breathlessly. “Okay.”
Then, he started to insert his middle finger into you, pulling a sharp breath out of you.
“I know,” he coaxed you. “But I gotta get you ready for me, okay?”
You nodded.
“Words, (Y/N/N),” he asserted.
“Okay,” you said shakily.
Sam inserted one finger, and then, another. He began to move them in and out of you while putting pressure on your clit with the heel of his hand. The feeling was overwhelming, and you tried to close your legs around his hand. However, you were stopped by his body between your legs.
The feeling continued to build and build, and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore. A string of moans and curses left your mouth.
“Just let it happen, okay? I’ve got you,” Sam told you.
You nodded.
“Words,” he demanded.
“Yes, god, yes,” you replied. “Don’t stop,” you begged.
He scissored his fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. The knot in your stomach snapped, and your core began to throb around his fingers.
“God, Sam!” you cried out. “Fuck!”
As your breathing began to slow, he asked, “You okay?” You nodded. “Yeah,” you breathed out. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he smirked lopsidedly.
You looked down at the bulge in jeans, and you looked up at him wantonly.
“No, no, this isn’t about me,” he told you.
“But I wanna make you feel good,” you whined.
“You already are,” Sam told you.
You leaned up to pull his face down to yours, kissing him again to convey everything you felt for him in that moment. You helped him out of his jeans, and once he had a condom on, he began to line himself up at your entrance.
“You sure you want this?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” you nodded. “Please, I need it.”
Slowly but surely, he began to push into you. He put his elbows on either side of your head, allowing you to curl your nails into his back with the pressure you were feeling inside of you.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable,” he told you.
You shook your head, bringing your hands to either side of his face and kissing him deeply. Sam used that opportunity of distraction to push himself all the way inside, causing both of you to moan into each other’s mouths.
Once he’d ensured you adjusted, he began to thrust into you. Sam’s movements were slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch and ridge of his cock. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back in pure euphoria as he began to pick up his pace, bringing both of you closer to your climaxes.
When you felt the knot beginning to form in your stomach again, you brought your hand to your clit and rubbed circles over it. Sam, having none of it, pushed your hand aside and mimicked the motion himself, allowing you to rake your nails up and down his back. Between the feeling of him thrusting inside of you and the pressure on your clit, the knot inside you snapped.
With a keening cry, you moved your hips in time with histo ride out your high while Sam rode out his. The two of you breathed heaving breaths, allowing time for both of you to come down.
When the both of you were cleaned up and thoroughly spent, Sam held you against his chest while you drew invisible patterns on his upper chest.
With a smile tugging on the ends of his lips, Sam asked, “You still cold?”
Taglist for Emotions:
@slutforfictionalcharacterss @criminalmindsiscool @littledebbieinabigworld
Forever tags are open; Series Rewrite taglist is closed!! :) Requests are open!
#sam winchester x angel!reader#sam winchester x angel!you#sam winchester x angel!y/n#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x y/n#supernatural#spn#angel!reader#sam x angel!reader#sam x angel!you#sam x angel!y/n#sam x reader#sam x y/n#sam x you
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Seen a couple varieties of post on here in the realm of “nobody owes you fic comments” and… actually?
Some of the reasoning was like “you aren’t entitled to praise” or “maybe nobody commented because it’s bad and it helps you write better” which is… you’re supposed to interpret my silence as constructive criticism is not great. Or, the big one, “write for yourself”.
Cool.
First of all, nobody "owes" you fic comments? I'm sorry, is this a new bitcoin I haven't heard of? Is there a bank collecting interest on fic comments? Do you have a strict budget of commentability? Ffs you should want to comment and show that you like something, you gatekeepy cynic.
I write plenty for myself. If I choose to post what that writing is online, I am doing so because I am seeking engagement. Every fic out there is posted under the presumption that the writer wants feedback, otherwise you could easily disable comments, likes, kudos, and shares. Even if somebody in the notes says “y’all don’t have to read this I’m just archiving it”
… Do you really believe they mean that and wouldn’t be excited that somebody gave kudos anyway? Have you ever met people?
Saying this because writing is supposed to be fun. I love writing for myself, but the moment I decide to share it with others, the whole of my enjoyment of my craft is split right down the middle, 50% ‘I’m happy with this’ and 50% ‘are you happy with this?’.
If I’m not getting feedback, I will keep it to myself. Time is the one thing you can’t get back and if I get a more positive and healthy experience just keeping shit to myself and not risking silence from the void, then I’ll do that, and you won’t get fic. Not here holding fic hostage or anything, but if I’ve only got 8 hours out of my week to write and one private WIP makes me happy while one pubic WIP is just a reminder that no one likes it… I’m going to put the effort into the private one, the one that’s written for me.
Now I’ve never largely participated in fandom in the first place and am utterly shocked whenever anything I write for older fandoms gets engagement and I’m not posting with the mindset of “if this doesn’t get 5 kudos fuck ‘em” it’s a subconscious thing.
It’s a ���Imma try this out. Oh, ok, well posting online feels no different than keeping it to myself and in fact the act of getting nowhere makes me feel a little worse, so never mind let’s take that down and go back into the safe space of a private Word doc.”
The act and love of writing is not intrinsically tied to the approval of our readers. The act of sharing our writing is.
Especially with fanfic: fic is designed for sharing, it's the act of showing love and support over a beloved story.
And this weird idea of “only good fics get kudos” is like… babe, people gotta start somewhere. I’ll read a lot of “bad writing” that has a good idea just executed poorly and still have something positive to say. It’s not hard. Being nice takes, like, 5 seconds.
Tap the kudos, send the bare minimum of a heart emoji through the comment, hit submit, and go about your day. You’re not out here rewarding “bad fic” with attention. We can all tell which fics are of higher quality and one little comment isn’t going to turn a bad writer into an egomaniac. You aren't rewarding bad writing, you're telling a hopeful writer "I see you over there standing awkwardly in the corner, here come join the rest of us, it's okay, we're here to have fun".
All of this shit is free. They write for free, your account is free, kindness is free.
So be kind.
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Elevators
Joe Keery X Reader
Imagine on fandom instagram?: No
Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No
Style of Writing: Fic
Rating: PG-13 ~ For fluff and cuteness, but more adult commentary or even some triggering content.
Edited: Yes
Word count: 6,015
Post Date & Time: July 27th 2024 at 12:17 AM
Ko-fi
Master List
Warnings Here
You can listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}.
Summary: Joe Keery the Readers very best friend, helps the Reader though one of her biggest fears as well as clams her anxiety until they can get the help they need.
Authors Note: I know they actually usually film in Atlanta GA, so for the sake of this Fic let’s just say she goes with him and they rent a place out. She works from home so she’s capable of going with.
You’re Pov:
“Oh my gosh, it’s really 12:00?!” I exclaim as I look at my phone.
“Umm, yeah. Why?” Natalia asks as she looks at me with concern.
“I have work on the set in the morning and don’t have my car. I need to take the bus or walk, but now I can’t do either cause it’s so late,” I explain as I pack up some of my stuff in a hurry.
“Hey. Hey. What’s going on?” Joe asks, reaching out for me as he walks over from where the guys were hanging out.
“I need to walk home. I have to be at set in the morning,” I quickly explain as I continue to pack up my stuff.
Once all my stuff is packed up, I quickly rush out a goodbye to everyone before rushing over to the door. I go to open the door, but someone pulls me back.
“Hey. You are not walking home this late at night, and while it’s storming? No way. I’ll drive you,” Joe offers as he pats his pockets, looking around for his keys.
“No, J. It’s fine. I’ll get home by myself. I really don’t wanna ruin your time with your cast members. You see me every day, you don’t see them as often as you do me. Spend time with them,” I express and he shakes his head before letting out a small ‘aha’ when finding his keys.
“If you think I’m letting my life-long best friend walk home in the rain, then you're nuts. Plus, I live there too,” he professes before turning around to the other actors in the room.
“Goodnight, guys. I’ll see you all bright and early on set. I’ve gotta get y/n home,” Joe quickly explains to the others.
“Goodnight! See you in the morning!” Noah yells out from across the room before some of the others chime in with ‘goodnights’ to the both of us.
Joe picks his jacket up off of the back of the couch before coming over to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I smile as I wave to everyone.
“Goodnight then, I guess!” I yell out and I get a few “goodnights” back as the girls wiggle their eyebrows at me, making me give them a death stare.
Joe pulls me out of the room and the door closes behind us. We head down the hallway and I start to feel a little guilty.
“Joe, really, if you want to go back you can. I’ll be fine,” I explain and he shakes his head.
“If you had your car, I’d be ok with it, but I know it’s in the shop, so no. It’s ok. Really, I’m fine to drive you home,” he informs me and I only nod before a grin takes over my face.
“I wonder why my car’s in the shop?” I joke as I nudge his side lightly with a smirk on my face.
“I wouldn’t know why…” he jokes back, playing innocent and I giggle.
“It couldn’t be because somebody backed it up into a pole when borrowing it now, would it?” I tease him again as I poke his stomach.
“I have no clue what you're talking about,” he plays coy, shaking his head and I roll my eyes.
“You definitely know what I’m talking about,” I remark with a smirk and he rolls his eyes now.
“Ok… there’s a very small chance you may be right…” he jokes as he holds his hand up with his fingers pinching together.
“A small chance?” I ask, only to giggle when he throws his arms up before letting them drop to his side.
“Ok, fine, there’s a big chance,” he finally admits sheepishly and I giggle as we come to a stop by the elevator.
He reaches forward and presses the down button before standing back upright next to me. I eye the door to the stairs for a moment before looking back at the elevator.
“Bubs…” I whisper out as I bite my lip and he lets out a small “hmm” before turning to look at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Can’t we just take the stairs?” I ask as I express my fear while he puts his jacket on.
“Y/n, we’re on the top floor of the Hampton. We’re thirty floors up, sweetheart. Do you really want to walk down thirty flights of stairs?” he asks with an eyebrow raised and I shrug.
“I don’t know… I just really don’t want to get in that elevator,” I whisper out as I shuffle my feet while refusing to look up at him.
“Don’t worry. I’m right here with you, ok? I’m right here. I promise you’ll be ok,” he promises as he pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me.
We stand there for a few minutes just hugging when we both hear the ding. We pull apart and turn to see the door wide open. I take a gulp and Joe takes a step to get in, but I freeze in my spot.
“Princess, it's really ok. Come on. I’ll stick with you the whole way down,” he explains as he turns back around to look at me.
“Joe… I… I can’t…” I whimper out and he grabs both my cheeks softly as he keeps eye contact with me.
“Hey. Hey. You're ok. You can do this, y/n,” Joe speaks calmly as he now starts to rub my right cheek.
“I don’t know, Joe, it’s gotten a lot worse now,” I explain and he looks at me, confused.
“How did you even get here earlier, then?” he asks and I try to look away sheepishly, but he just keeps my face in his hands.
“I, umm… took the stairs. After Eleni {pronounced: E-lane-ie} dropped me off from work on the set, I took the stairs,” I explain embarrassedly and he shakes his head.
“You could have just called me to come down and get you. I would have,” he affirms and I shake my head now that he’s let go of me.
“You had work today too. You must have been tired. I didn’t want to make you even more tired,” I explain and just as I finish, the doors slide closed.
“Damn, we’ll have to get the next one,” Joe mutters as he turns back around and presses the down button again.
“I don’t care if I’m tired, I still would have come down. Plus we work on the same set, just have different hours,” Joe informs me with a shrug before he turns back to look at me. I fight off the blush I can feel creeping up the back of my neck.
“I don’t get why we can’t just take the stairs…” I comment timidly and Joe lets out a laugh.
“Y/n, seriously. It’s thirty flights. You’ve already done enough stairs today. I’m not letting you do more,” he explains before shaking his head and laughing a little more.
He looks at me and immediately his face changes from amusement to worry when he sees just how frightened I am. He sighs and lets out a small ‘I’m sorry’ before he puts his arm around my shoulder. He moves so he can fully hug me now and rubs the upper part of my arm with his thumb. I wrap my arms around his waist and burrow my head into his shoulder. He holds onto me a little tighter for a moment before rubbing at my scalp to sooth me.
“I’m right here. Haven’t I always been?” he asks against the side of my forehead and I nod, making him smile.
“Yes. Yes, you have been,” I agree with him, biting my lip before pulling away from our hug.
“Well, come on, then. I promise you'll be fine,” he promises me as the elevator dings again, making me jump.
“I know you're scared, but these things barely ever break down. Plus, you're with me. I’ve got you,” he tries to reassure me again before placing a kiss to the side of my forehead and for a split second I almost forget where we are.
Soon the doors are sliding open and I feel my heart start to beat frantically, but it’s definitely not because of the happy feelings I normally get when with Joe. His hand falls from my shoulder, but he keeps it on my lower back as he softly guides me inside. I push myself as close to the back wall as I can while he pushes the lobby botton. Not even a minute after he pushes it, the doors slide closed. I take a deep breath before looking at the ceiling above me and letting a shaky one out.
I grip onto the railing until my knuckles are practically completely white as I wait for it to all start. The elevator gives a light shake before starting to go down and I move my grip from the railing onto Joe’s arm. He lets out a small laugh before pulling his arm from where I had latched myself to him and putting it around my shoulder. He pulls me into another side hug and squeezes my arm lightly, effortlessly making me feel slightly safer.
“See, it’s ok. We’re fine. We’ll be in the lobby before you know it,” he explains with a light smile and I wrap both arms around him before nuzzling into his side more.
“I guess you're right. Nothing's happening,” I sigh as I squeeze him a bit and he squeezes my shoulder back.
It’s quiet and calm for a few minutes until the lights start to flicker. I look at the screen that tells us the floor number, but it glitches from twenty-eight to twenty-seven and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. The elevator comes to a jolting stop, making me and Joe sway back and forth as he keeps his hold on me. The lights go out, leaving only an emergency light as the only source of light. I look back up at the number to see it still glitching, only this time it’s going between twenty-seven and twenty-six. I feel my heart start to race again as I realize what’s happening and I start to shake in fear.
“Shit. Princess, it’s ok. We’ll be ok. Press the emergency button. I’ll try 911,” Joe explains as he pulls away and holds me by the shoulders before pulling his phone out.
I step forward or at least I think I do, but I really don’t. I stay where I am, frozen for a moment before taking a big gulp and walking over to the buttons. It takes me a minute of looking over all the buttons, but I soon find the one with the big red E on it. I lick my lips and press it in hopes that the lights will magically come back on. When they don’t, I panic before starting to press the button over and over again.
I only can hope that someone will answer our emergency, but my brain tells me to just keep pushing it even though nobody has. I feel a hand lay on my back and another one comes up to pull my hand from the panel of buttons. I look up at Joe and he pulls me into a hug and just holds me as he puts his phone up to his ear.
“Hi, 911. What’s your emergency?” I hear a lady’s voice come over the speaker of the phone.
“Umm, hi. I’m currently at the Hilton hotel, but uhh, I think the power must have gone out or something because we are stuck in the elevator,” Joe explains to her in as calm of a tone as he can so I won’t panic further.
“Ok. Can you tell me what floor you're on?” The dispatch lady asks and I feel him move his head to look.
“Umm, it’s glitching between twenty-six and twenty-seven, so maybe on twenty-six,” he replies and she gives a small ‘Hmm, ok’.
“Are you alone, sir?” she asks and he shakes his head.
“No,” he replies as he gives me a light squeeze again.
“Can you tell me who’s with you?” she asks and he again nods even though she can’t see him.
“Yeah. It’s just me and my girl here,” he responds back to her and my eyes widen.
He’s never called me his girl before. It’s always been sweetheart or sweets or my best friend, but never his girl.
I zone out as she asks him a few more questions and I don’t catch them at all, but soon he’s hanging up with her. He looks down at me before sighing and leading me over to the wall to lean me against it.
“Sit right here, ok? I’m going to go call Natalia or Charlie, ok?” he asks and all I can manage is a light tiny nod as a tired feeling washes over me.
I watch as he walks over to the other corner and types something out on his phone. He brings it up to his ear as his other hand rubs at his face. I feel shaky so I slip down the wall and pull my legs up to my chest before resting my chin on my knees. Hot sticky tears start to roll down my cheeks as I watch him scratch at his chin. Panic attacks aren’t a new thing for me, not at all.
They've followed me all the way up into adulthood and Joe has seen almost every single one since we were about nine. This, however, is the worst one that I’ve had since I was maybe twelve. It didn’t help that I always overthought things growing up. Joe was always there to talk those thoughts out with me as he is now. But this… this was my absolute worst fear playing out in front of me. I remember all those nights in high school where I’d text him about how my brain just wouldn’t shut off and that I couldn’t sleep.
He’d always known that was me telling him I felt an attack coming on. So he’d rush over from his house next door and cuddle with me to calm me. At first my dad never understood, until suddenly he just did. He started leaving the back door unlocked for Joe and I later found out my mother had told him how calm Joe made me.
“Hey. Me and y/n are kind of umm… stuck…” he explains into the phone, sort of snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Of course I’m fine. It’s y/n I’m worried about. She’s on the very edge of having a big attack,” he whispers into his phone and he rubs his neck as he listens to whoever he called.
“Yeah. No. I’ll be ok taking care of her. I’ve been with her through almost every attack. I know how to keep her calm,” he tells them before pausing to listen to them.
“Yes. I already called 911, they should be here in like five to ten minutes,” he answered whatever question was asked before shaking his head.
“Umm, I don’t know. Could you guys just be down there when they do get us out?” he asks and nods to a few things that are being said.
“Ok. Yeah. Thanks, man. We’ll see you soon,” he gives his goodbye before hanging up the phone.
He shoves his phone back in his pocket before turning around. He looks down at me before frowning and coming back over. He lowers himself down next to me before putting his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his side again. I start to cry harder and he rubs my back as he coos softly to me. I basically sob into his shirt while gripping it and he just keeps massaging my back lightly while continuing to coo soft nothings in my ear.
“Hey, take a breath for me, please? Come on sweets, you can do it,” Joe’s voice comes out soft but authoritative as he still holds onto me.
“Hey. There she is…” he says proudly as he softly holds my cheeks in his hands and rubs my cheek for a moment as he gives me a soft smile.
He pulls away from me for a split second and takes his jacket off before he drapes the jacket over my shoulders. Then he quickly pulls me back into his side as he kisses the side of my forehead again, making me start to feel a little safer in his arms.
“It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’m not leaving. Just pretend we’re home and cuddled up in your bed,” he tells me as he rubs his thumb in circles on my lower back under his jacket.
Back when Joe first found out he got the role of Steve, we were both so excited that his career would be taking off. Then we were sad because he had to move out of our LA apartment to go film. Not wanting to be away from me for long, he got me a job on the set as the “assistant” to the Duffer Brothers with production plans and decisions. So together we both moved to a new apartment and started our new jobs together. The girls always refer to us when we walk up as “and they were roommates!” before bursting into giggles. I schedule almost everything for Ross Duffer and sometimes I sit in meetings for him or I stay really late to help him with whatever he’d be doing on set.
I also help make sure everything on set is to the actors and actress' likings. We did keep our old apartment for when we were back in LA, but for the most part we both stay in Atlanta more times out of the year. I just have more hours and a lot of work sometimes, so Joe and I always drive separately. As of lately, though, we have been carpooling a lot of the time. My sobbing slowly starts to calm down, but as I do I start to feel dizzy. I let out a light whimper and I nuzzle my head into his neck.
“I promise we’ll be fine. I’ll get you out of here no matter what and when have I not kept a promise to my best girl, hmm?” he asks as he grips onto my hip and I jump, making him chuckle a little.
“Joe… I’m dizzy…” I groan out and he nods before placing another kiss on my forehead.
“I know. You always get dizzy after an attack. Just relax, ok. I’m not leaving you. I wouldn’t be able to leave you like this. It’d hurt too much to walk away. I love you, sweetheart,” he explains, his voice becoming breathless at the end as he pushes some of my hair away from my face.
My eyes grow wide as I look at him and he just gives me a small smile as he shrugs. He reaches up to my cheek that’s not against his shoulder and wipes a still falling tear.
Did Joe freaking Keery, my best friend since literal diapers, the guy I’ve lived with since graduating high school just tell me he loves me? No. I must just be imagining it after that attack…
“Do you wanna lay down? You still haven’t gotten your color back, sweetheart,” he asks after a moment and I nod before slowly moving.
I start to lay down with my cheek on his thigh and he lifts an arm before laying it on the upper part of my arm. I keep his jacket around me like a blanket and close my eyes as he starts to rub my head. He starts to hum one of the new songs he’s been working on and I let a light smile take form on my lips. Soon his humming stops and it grows quiet for a few minutes. I can only assume that we’re both desperate to think of a way out of this elevator, but the more I think about it the more panic starts to set in again.
“J…?” I whisper out with a hoarse voice from crying and I move to look up at him.
“What, sweetheart?” he asks as he looks down at me.
“Can you please, please, please just distract me? The silence is driving me insane and I don’t wanna overthink everything,” I admit and he smiles softly at me.
I push up off of him and he quickly wraps his arms around me, pulling me so I lean against him. I snuggle my face into his chest and he lets out a chuckle.
“Sweets, that tickles,” he notes as he laughs and I just shrug.
“Wait a minute, were you trying to do that?” he exclaims when he sees a coy smile on my lips.
“Maybe… you deserve it, though!” I joke and he rolls his eyes.
“Why! You sneaky little thing!” he shouts before he gives my side a little pinch.
We laugh for a few minutes before it goes quiet again so I slap his shoulder. He rubs at the place before shaking his head.
“What was that for?” he asks and I shrug.
“Talk to me. I can’t do the silence,” I explain and he nods his head.
“Ok. Ahh, let’s see… Do you remember freshman year homecoming?” he asks and I nod.
“Yeah. You almost did a Steve that night and got into a fight with Jimmy Kavinsky, Peter‘s little brother,” I remark and he rolls his eyes.
“I didn't turn into Steve! I would have done a lot better than my character in a fight,” he proclaims and I give him a ‘really?’ look.
“Joe. Jimmy’s always been bigger than you,” I deadpan and he groans.
“That’s not the point!” he shouts in frustration and I grab his hand.
“Ok. I’m sorry. What was the point?” I ask him calmly and he smiles.
“The point is that I was there with Sarah, but I thought you were the most beautiful girl there,” he exhales exasperatedly from how fast he had been talking, rolling his eyes at himself as I smile, squeezing his hand encouragingly.
“Then when I saw the look you had when Jimmy ditched you for Victoria, all I wanted to do was beat him and make you smile again,” he continues shaking his head as he frowns.
“It wasn’t right to me that he put a frown on your face. You should always have a smile and if anyone took that away…” he finishes off with a sigh while refusing to look at me and my eyes tear up for a second before I reach up for his cheeks.
“Awe, Joe…” I coo softly at him as I jokingly move his face around for a second. “If it helps, I didn’t want to go with him in the first place…” I remark and he gives me a confused look.
“What? But you talked about it for a week before he actually asked you,” he mutters and I shake my head, letting go of his face as I now play with a loose thread on my shorts.
“I only decided to go with him because you hadn’t asked me yet, you doofus,” I joke with him, now finally looking at him again and he still looks confused, so I sigh.
“Allison stupidly got it into my head that Jimmy liked me and that he should take me since you, and I quote, ‘oh so obviously’ weren’t going to ask apparently. So I became laser focused on him. As I do with everything I normally shouldn’t be focused on,” I explain with a light shrug and he perks up.
“Wait, you wanted me to ask you?” he asks, eyes lighting up in excitement and I giggle.
“Yes, Joe. I’ve only had a crush on you since we were ten, but who’s keeping track?” I joke with another lame shrug and he shakes his head.
“Wait, so I could have asked and you would have said yes?!” he shouts in shock and I giggle, nodding.
“Aww man, I’m such an idiot!” he exclaims as he rubs at his face, making me giggle again as I grab his hand and pull them away from his face.
“If it makes you feel better, I couldn’t stop thinking how handsome you were that night. I also just wanted to just run my hands through your hair,” I explain with a light smirk and he chuckles.
“What is it with you and my hair?” he asks me and I grin.
“What?! It’s just so cute and soft…” I murmur and he chuckles.
“It’s also not so bad when you have the Steve hair added to it after filming too,” I sheepishly admit and he smirks.
“So you have a thing for my hair, huh? Well I actually have a thing for yours too,” he explains as he reaches out to toy with a strand of mine.
“Your hair is actually just one of the many reasons I love you,” I whisper out as I look away.
It’s quiet for a minute and I decide to chance a look at him. When I do, I see his mouth slightly parted in shock and his eyes wide.
Was it really so bad that I love my best friend?
“I…I’m sorry. You probably meant-” I start to try apologizing, but I’m cut off when he slams his lips into mine.
At first I’m still in shock from being in the middle of saying something, but I slowly start to kiss back. My arms reach up and wrap around his neck as his hands stay firmly on my hips as he pulls me ever so closer. I find my hands moving up to grip his hair as he squeezes my hips.
Kissing him brings a pleasant warmth to my chest as he brings his hand up to my neck and holds me even closer. I feel his thumb rub my neck ever so sweetly, making more and more butterflies swarm my stomach. The kiss only lasts a few more minutes before we both pull away, breathing heavily.
He rubs his nose lightly against mine and I smile softly as his hand now lays on my cheek instead of my neck. He smiles softly as he pushes some of my hair out of my face and I feel a blush start to kick in so I shove my face into his neck, making him chuckle.
“Why you hiding from me, huh?” he asks as he squeezes my shoulder and I blush harder, shaking my head.
I start to say something, but get cut off by a loud ding and suddenly to our surprise, the doors of the elevator are sliding open. We both look up as they open, seeing Charlie and Natalia standing next to some paramedics. Slowly Joe helps me get up as he gets up too and he quickly hands me over to a paramedic.
“You go get checked out. I’m going to talk with Charlie and possibly the technician over there,” Joe tells me, but I grip his hand and shake my head.
“Not without you. Please…” I almost whimper, not wanting him to leave my side and he squeezes my hand.
“Sweetheart, you're ok. I promise I’ll come right back over in a minute. Natalia, will you stay with her?” he asks her and she nods.
“See, Natalia will be with you. I’ll be quick I promise, just wanna understand what happened,” he explains softly and I sigh, nodding before letting his hand go.
“Come on. Let’s get you looked at, yeah?” Natalia asks as she guides me over to a chair and one of the paramedics comes over.
“Hi. My name is Hen. I’m just gonna look you over and make sure you’re doing ok, alright, sweetie?” she questions and I nod to let her know that I’m ok with it.
“What happened in there, y/n? Are you ok?” Natalia queries as she fusses over me while I take a seat in one of the lobby chairs.
“I’m fine. Joe kept me sane,” I tell her as I look over at him and he looks over at us.
“Omg! You guys kissed, didn't you?!” Natalia exclaims at me with her eyes wide.
“No…” I reply, trailing off as I refuse to meet her eyes.
“Oh they so did,” Hen comments with a chuckle and I feel a blush creep up my neck.
“Ok… yeah, we did…” I admit, biting my lip and Natalia just grins.
“Y/n. Oh my gosh. It’s actually happening. I knew you guys would end up together. I told you,” she excitedly pushes my shoulder lightly.
“Yeah, yeah,” I reply with a playful eye roll.
Hen now asks me questions, if I could breathe properly and checks my heart rate as well as checking my blood pressure. Natalia hovers and it makes me roll my eyes with fondness at how she worries over me. Charlie and Joe stand over to the side talking with the tech, but Joe keeps looking over at us every so often.
“Well. You’re doing okay, I would just suggest that you rest up a bit after all this,” Hen informs me and I nod tiredly as I feel the exhaustion come over me.
“And here, take this,” Hen adds as she holds out some Advil for me along with a water bottle.
“How’d you know?” Natalia asks and Hen turns to look up at her.
“How’d I know what?” Hen asks in confusion and Natalia points to the advil.
“That she gets headaches after her panic attacks,” Natalia illuminates and Hen chuckles.
“A lot of people tend to. If you’ve been hyperventilating or anything that includes losing breath, you cut off circulation to the brain so it’ll definitely pack on a headache,” Hen expertly explains and Natalia nods along.
“That young man that was trapped with her asked my partner if we could make sure she got some just in case. He seems to know you and your panic attacks very well,” Hen tells us as she points over at Joe and I blush lightly.
“He’s been with me though all of them,” I shyly reply and she smiles up at me before she starts to put some stuff back in her bag.
“Well I’m glad you have someone to help you though. Not everyone does. Now get some rest, you’ll definitely feel a little drained,” Hen says as she finishes putting her stuff in her bag.
“Oh, she will be,” Natalia promises, making Hen smile softly as she stands, nodding before she leaves us be.
“He’s looking over here at you,” Natalia jokingly taunts me.
“I’m sure he’s only-” I start to again deny anything, but she cuts me off.
“Here he comes,” she excitedly tells me with a smile and I shake my head in disbelief at her.
“Hey. How’s she doing?” Joe asks her as he walks up to us.
“The paramedic said she’s doing just fine. She just suggested that she rests after the whole ordeal,” Natalia explains to him and I roll my eyes.
“Talia, I have work in the morning. Most rest I’ll be getting is an hour's sleep at the most now,” I retort with annoyance clear in my voice.
“What! But-” she goes to reprimand me, but she stops when a hand gets placed on her shoulder.
“Natalia, I got this. We’ll see you soon okay?” Joe softly asks her and she sighs before nodding.
“You make her rest, you hear me?” she asks him and he chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender.
“Don’t you worry. I definitely will be,” he promises her and she nods one last final time.
“Good. Well then, I’ll leave you guys alone. Y/n, I better not see you on set at all today, got it?” she asks when she turns back to me and I sigh, nodding.
“Good. Now go and get really rested up. I’ll see you soon,” Natalia finalizes with a smile before nodding and walking away.
“Come on. Let’s get you home. You need rest,” Joe comments as he holds his hand out for me.
“But J, I really need to just go home and change,” I reply and he shakes his head.
“Why are you so stubborn? Let’s just get going, come on,” he groans out as he pulls me up and pulls me into his side as we start to walk.
“Sweetheart…” Joe sighs out as we start to see his car and I let out a hum.
“Please just call in sick. I’m sure the brothers will be okay with it. You really had a big one and need the rest,” Joe pleads with me as we get closer and closer to the car.
“J. I’ll be okay. I’ve made it on set with only an hour’s worth of sleep before. I can live off of none at all,” I joke and he stops us, pulling my hand to make me stop.
“Please just call in sick,” he begs again and I sigh, letting go of his hand to start walking without him.
“J. Really, I’ll be okay,” I tell him as I now stand next to the car and I hear him groan in frustration.
Suddenly I’m being pulled around and I look up into his eyes. I look at him in confusion with my lips parted from the light squeak I’d let out. I stare into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes that seem to be infused with a light green that I’d never noticed before and lose all thought as I only see pure worry swirling around.
“J… I’m okay…” I whisper out and he sighs, shaking his head.
He doesn’t even say a word, but I let out a confused hum as he lightly pushes me against the car. His hands now find my waist as his lips find mine and my arms come up around his neck. He kisses me for a moment before pulling away, sighing as he leans his forehead against mine.
“Let me reword that. Call in sick, stay home with me and we’ll cuddle all day and just spend the day together letting you rest,” he pleads with me one more time and then it clicks for me.
“Okay… I think that we can do…” I whisper out and he slowly grins.
“Yeah?” he asks and I smile, pecking his lips.
“Yeah. Let’s go home,” I confirm and now all the worry has seemingly left his body.
“Ok then. Let’s go home,” he happily agrees as he goes to pull away.
“Wait,” I call out as I pull him back in.
“What?” he asks and I just smirk at him.
“I want another kiss,” I tell him as I rub my thumb along his cheek and he chuckles.
“Okay…” he agrees before pulling me back into another kiss, but all too soon he pulls away again and I’m left groaning, making him laugh.
“Come on, you nut. Let’s get you home,” he chuckles, shaking his head.
“But I want more kisses,” I whine out and he shakes his head as he opens my door.
“You can steal all the ones you want when we get home,” he tells me as I get in and I grin up at him.
“You promise?” I playfully ask him and he chuckles, shaking his head again.
“I swear on my life, sweetheart,” he promises before closing my door and running around to his side.
“And you wanted to take the stairs…” he jokes with a playful roll of his eyes as he starts the car.
“Oh…! You…” I call out in my shock as I smack his arm and he chuckles.
“Hey. I’m just stating the truth,” he shrugs and I smile at him as I cuddle up to his arm.
“Oh, would you just be quiet,” I roll my eyes at him and he chuckles again as he continues to drive.
The End
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#joe keery#joe keery imagines#joe keery imagine#joe keery x reader#joe keery x you#joe keery fanfiction#joe keery one shot#joe keery fluff#joe keery angst#stranger things imagines#stranger things cast#steve harrington#fandomgirlz01#elevators
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language of flowers | 100+ followers event
welcome to yen's flower shop, aka my writing event to celebrate over 100 followers! build your own bouquet by picking a theme/prompt, character, and ending and i'll write a fic based on it ft. jason todd, dick grayson, bruce wayne event status: closed
info
followers, non-followers, anons, and non-anons all welcome!
i'll start writing on the 21st of december (my last day of exams)
i primarily write angst and x gn!reader stuff
you can send your requests through my ask box
i'll be updating my event masterlist when each bouquet is taken, so you can check that to see if somebody else has already requested it!
how to request
please pick one flower, one wrapping paper colour, and one ribbon!
if you can’t decide between two or more options, you can send them to me and i’ll choose
for hearts, you can send me the emoji on its own or along with your bouquet request
send in as many bouquet requests as you’d like! pls just separate them into different asks
also send as many hearts as you’d like! i’ll add all of my replies to this post so you know which ones have been asked
example: hi, can i get a bouquet of cleomes in pink wrapping paper with a white ribbon💗💖
full list of options below!
catalogue
flower | theme/prompt
purple hyacinth | regret, asking for forgiveness daffodil | new beginnings, moving on, reconciliation cleome | elope with me (historical au!) marigold | jealousy forget-me-not | do not forget me pink carnations | i miss you, remembrance, gratitude heliotrope | i am devoted to you baby's breath | sincere love
wrapping paper | character
pink | jason todd cream | bruce wayne blue | dick grayson
bows | ending
purple | bittersweet ending pink | happy ending blue | sad ending white | surprise me
asks
this is more questions for me, because i don’t really talk about myself that much on here but in case anybody wants to hear me yap. i would love to hear about your answer to the prompts too. ie if you send me 💕, feel free to tell me about your spotify wrapped too!
🩷| wips/fic ideas 💕| about my spotify wrapped 💜| other characters, comics, games, movies, etc that i like (you can specify if you want) 💖| favourite fanfic tags/tropes 💞| writing inspiration 💘| personal perfume recs (iykyk) 💝| favourite food 💗| i’ll expose one of my pinterest boards🫣 💌| favourite books
#if the flower drawings don't look like the irl flowers that is because i can't draw#trust the name guys#jason todd#dc batman#red hood#batman#batman comics#bruce wayne#batfam#dc robin#batfamily#follower event#writing event#jason todd fanfic#jason todd x reader#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd hcs#jason todd headcanon#red hood imagine#red hood fanfiction#red hood x reader#red hood headcanon#red hood x y/n#dick grayson hcs#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson headcanon#dick grayson
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Prompt list :p
i did take this from my old account, but lots of the fics i write are based around this list. Contains: Angst (1-50) Fluff (51-100) sarcasm/humour (101-150) and drama (151-200)
if you wanna request something from this list, just use the character and ‘ prompt 34 from prompt list #2′ thank you! ill write for whoever you want mama.
Theres like 200 so be wary
“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”
“I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”
“Can you just shut your mouth ?”
“WHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”
“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”
“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?“
“I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”
"Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”
“You’re safe here, I got you.”
“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”
“Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”
“If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”
“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”
“SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”
“You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”
“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”
“You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!”
“What happened between us?”
“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”
“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”
“You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”
“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way”
“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”
“I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”
“I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”
“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”
“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.”
“This will be the last time you lie to me.”
“You never loved me, did you?”
“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”
“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”
“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”
“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”
“Your mind must be a horrible place.”
“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”
“And I thought you loved me.”
“ And I thought I loved you.”
“ Aren’t you even going to cry?”
“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”
“Did you always know that you were going to leave?”
“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”
“I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.”
”If you wanna know, then ask.”
“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”
“We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”
“Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”
“When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?”
“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”
“It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.”
“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.
“You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”
“Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”
“You smell really nice.”
“Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”
“I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”
“If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”
“Here, let’s share the blanket.”
“You’re comfy.”
“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”
“But I want to hear you sing.”
“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”
“Care to give me a back scratch?”
“I think I love you.”
“Your bed head is really cute.”
“How about a kiss?”
“You made this for me?”
Aw, you’re blushing.”
Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?”
“Let me help you with that.”
“I don’t want to forget this moment.”
“Are you really flirting with me right now?”
“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”
“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”
“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”
“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”
“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”
“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”
“No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”
“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”
“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”
“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”
“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”
“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”
“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”
“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”
“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “
“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”
“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.”
“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”
“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”
“It was always you.”
I love you in every possible way.”
“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”
“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.”
“Duck, you idiot!”
“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”
“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”
“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”
“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”
“Define normal.”
“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”
“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”
“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”
“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.”
“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”
“And you wonder why you’re still single.”
“Remind me to kill you. Please.”
“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”
“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”
“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.”
“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”
“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”
“My middle finger salutes you.”
“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”
“Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”
“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”
“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”
“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”
“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”
“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”
“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”
“I need therapy after this.”
“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”
“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”
“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”
“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.”
“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”
“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”
“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”
“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”
“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”
“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”
“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”
“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”
“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”
“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”
“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”
“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”
“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”
“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”
“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”
“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”
“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”
“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”
“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.”
“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”
“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”
“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”
“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”
“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”
“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.”
“I know you lied to me.”
“I’m not even sorry.”
“You backstabber!”
“I never want to see you again.”
“You never mattered to me.”
“I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Rot in hell.”
“It was supposed to be a secret!”
“No one loves me.”
“He/she/they is/are so petty…”
“You made me cry.”
“I don’t know who you are anymore.”
“How DARE you?!”
“I know you’re not talking to me…”
“I SAW you with him/her/them!”
“Just leave me alone.”
"What did you do?!”
“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.”
“Just admit that was extra…”
“I forgive, but I don’t forget.”
“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?”
“So what if I had sex with your ex?”
“There’s something I have to tell you…”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.”
“I never loved you.”
“It’s too late.”
“Quit ignoring me.”
“Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!”
“I love you. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to be friends.”
“Can we please pretend I never said that?”
“Friendzoned again.”
“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.”
“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.”
“I was there for you when no one else was!”
“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.”
“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.”
“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…”
“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.”
“I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.”
“When I said I loved you, I meant it.”
“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?”
“You were the one that left all those notes for me?”
"You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.”
“We agreed this was just physical!”
“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”
UGh that was so long, props if you made it this far. No need to credit if you use any, but a like or reblog is appreciated
#prompt#prompt list#writing prompt#writing ideas#spencer reid x reader#writeblr#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader
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A Joe Burrow Story...
A/Note: My first RPF, well the first I've published. I normally write Marvel (Steve, Bucky, Sam) but decided to try my hand at something a little different.
I hope you like it, if you do, please like, reblog and leave me some feedback (kindly would be appreciated..)
Fic inspired by @burreaux-drys - thank you for your amazing writing, even if it is "all over the place"
I do not own the characters in this story except the OFC/OC characters mentioned.
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, translated or in any other way taken/stolen.
Characters: Joe Burrow; OFC!Reader; OC!Readers Best Friend; Mentions of other Bengal players; OC Bengal team members (kind of)
Warnings: Mentions of stalking; Shy reader; Police; that's about it except Joe Burrow I think deserves his own warning (in a good way); Not Beta'd so any mistakes are my own
W/C: 2748
Reader’s pov
I watched the players on the field, easily singling out the one I’d come to see. It really wasn’t that difficult, he stood out with his mop of dirty blonde hair and the number 9 on his jersey.
My eyes roved down his body to his slim but manly hips and back up again to his broad shoulders, made even broader by the padding in his practice uniform.
He was looking good, but again, he always did, especially to me. I’ve been in love with him for a while, always from afar, and he had no idea. Maybe today would be the day I’d get up enough gumption to actually tell him.
This was a closed practice, but that never stopped me before. There were plenty of ways to sneak into Paycor stadium, even when it was on lockdown, if you knew what you were doing. And I did.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took my attention away from practice to check.
BFF: Where are you? I’m at your place
Me: Oh, I’m out running errands, sorry.
BFF: Tell the truth, you’re at practice ogling J again aren’t you?
Me: Maybe.. Maybe not.. I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation
BFF: Well then, I’ll join you, I need to see me some Sam.
Me: It’s almost over and it’s a closed practice today, so you won’t be able to get in.
BFF: Closed practice?
BFF: They don’t let anyone into closed practices, how did.. You know what, I dno’t want to know. Let me know when you’re home. Unless you and J are doing something after practice
Me: Will do. Love you xx
BFF: Love you too xx
As you slipped your phone back into your pocket you realised that practice was over for the day. You slunk back into the shadows as a couple of the players and officials looked up towards where you had been sitting. Regardless of anything else, you shouldn’t have been there and you didn’t really want to get caught and banned.
Making your way back to your car you see a line of fans waiting for the players to come out of training. You chuckle to yourself that they clearly don’t know the tricks that you did.
For a moment you contemplate joining them, you have something you want to give to Joe, but decide maybe next time would be a better option and you jump into the car and head home.
Later that day.. Back at Paycor Stadium - Joe’s pov
I have a stalker. There’s no getting around it any more.
I’m sitting in Coach’s office with the cops and Zac, admitting for the first time that somebody is stalking me. I knew it all along really, but just didn’t want to admit the ’s’ word to myself. I figured it was just an overzealous fan and that it would be ok.
Things were left on my car at training, when I was at the gym, even when I was at the grocery store but today, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
After practice I signed some autographs and took some pictures with the fans who’d j for me. I love my fans and I love interacting with them - for the most part. Every fan group has those ones who are a bit.. umm, crazier than others. Fans that would do anything to get closer to their idols. Not that I consider myself an idol, but I know with my position and public persona, that I’m as much a likely target for the crazies as anyone else.
“So, Joe” the Detective said “Tell us exactly what happened today to make you finally call us”
“Well, I left training and headed to the grocery store. While I was there, I took a couple of pictures with some fans, nothing major. When I came out to my car, there were flowers on the hood and something under the windscreen wipers.”
“And this is what was under the wipers?” The Detective asked, holding up the piece of paper that had been on my window.
I nodded, and continued. “I didn’t really think a lot of it, I just grabbed the flowers and the note and tossed them into the front seat. Once I got home though, I wasn’t quite so sure this was an innocent interaction.”
“And why do you say that? Joe, if we are going to find this and make sure nothing happens, we need every piece of information you have.”
“Of course detective. Well, I got home and parked in my garage and as I got out of the car, something just felt off. The door between the garage and the house was open but I swear I closed it before I left. I kinda shrugged it off at first, thinking maybe my Mum had been around, or the cleaner had come even though they weren’t due for a couple of days.”
“But that wasn’t the case?”
“Well, no, once I got inside I realised some things had been moved around and then I saw the note on my kitchen bench.”
“And this is the note you found inside your house?”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at it or read it again so I just nodded and looked down at my hands in my lap.
“Joe, we need to get ahead of this” Coach said. “Detective, do you think we should do a press conference and alert the public to keep an eye out? I’m sure this person has been around training/practice and the stadium, probably coming to game days when we play here.”
“Let’s just wait it out for now, we don’t want to scare the stalker off and not be able to find them, or worse, have them escalate their behaviour into something dangerous.”
I feel like all I can do is nod, once again. I just never pictured myself in this situation.
There was a knock on Zac’s office door and one of the admin staff came in with a folder and handed it to Zac, whispering something to him. I saw his eyes go wide and then he looked down at the folder.
“Ummm, detective, we may have some more information that could shed some light on this case. We video every practice/training session and these are some stills from today’s practice that might be very interesting.”
Zac hands the folder to the detective as I sit up a bit straighter in my chair, curious about what they could have found from today’s video, given it was a closed practice, meaning nobody was able to come in and watch.
The detective opened the folder and examined the pictures closely and then handed them to me.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
“Apparently someone was in the bleachers today during practice. Detective, this was a closed practice today which means that this person has snuck in and possibly could be the person you are looking for.”
I peered closer at the photos. They were grainy, a bit blurry, you couldn’t really see who it was. It did look like a female but who could really tell. I’m sure the police had ways of making the image a bit sharper and maybe getting some identifying details.
The police thanked Zac and I and made their way out with suggestions to beef up my security at home and at the stadium and to also be very aware of my surroundings at all times. They didn’t think, if this person who snuck into practice today was my stalker that they posed too much danger, but you never know.
I sat for a bit longer with Zac, talking out what was happening because the only other people I could talk to at the moment were my family and my teammates and I didn’t really want to worry either group until we knew more.
On the way home, I rang my security company who agreed to schedule more regular patrols around and near my place and also to ramp up the security footage around the outside of my home.
I hated that I have to do this but I guess my safety should be number one to me and I know my Mum would kill me if she knew about this and I didn’t take these extra precautions. It all just felt so limiting.
1 week later - Reader’s pov
I haven’t been back to Paycor. Almost getting caught in the stadium made me back off a little bit, I didn’t want to get into trouble and be banned from practice or games in general.
I’d been following Joe and the Bengals activity on social media but it just felt so impersonal, that I was itching to get back to practice. Actually Joe didn’t seem very active on socials the past week and most of the Bengals feed had focused on Tee, Sam and a few of the other players. All great players but Joe was their franchise player, the top QB in the league and they should be showcasing him whenever they can.
It made me wonder what had happened in the last week.
After I left training I headed to the grocery store to get some supplies, as my best friend was coming over after work that night for a movie night. As I was leaving I saw Joe entering the store. I knew he shopped here but I had never actually run into him and I just smiled at him as I walked out of the store to my car.
He has a very distinctive car and it was parked next to mine so I took a moment to admire it before I loaded my bags into the back seat and headed home again.
Later that night when my friend arrived she had some very interesting news.
“Girl, Joe Burrow has a stalker!”
“What? I mean, how do you know this?”
“I heard some of the detectives at work today talking about it. Apparently someone left some things on his car at the grocery store this afternoon and after he got home, someone had broken into his house and left him some kind of note - I don’t know what it said but they are beefing up security at his house. This is huge.”
“Why haven’t they said anything about it though?”
“Well, they probably don’t want the person escalating to even more dangerous behaviour, although they may be too late for that if whoever it is has already been inside his actual house.”
That conversation has stayed with me, to be honest. I couldn’t imagine how scared Joe must have been to go to the police about it all.
Today I was heading back to practice. This one was open but I thought I’d stay in the background anyway, amongst the other fans and not up front like I usually try to be. Fate, as it seemed, had other plans.
As practice was finishing, a surge in the people there pushed me towards the side of the crowd, closer to where the players exited the field. As Joe walked past he looked at me and smiled and did a double take. Did he recognise me? Is he curious of who I am?
I decided to make a quiet retreat and wait outside for him and hopefully get the balls to talk to him, or give him the gift I had for him.
A few of the players dribbled out of the stadium towards their cars, all stopping to sign autographs and take pictures with the fans.
Joe’s pov
I walked out of the stadium towards my car and it always fascinates me how many people stay after practice to talk to, take photos with and get autographs from the players. I still struggle to understand that some of them are here exclusively to see me.
Given recent events however, it makes me more cautious as well, and I hate that because I love giving back to my fans.
As I went along the line of fans, I saw one at the back who looked kind of familiar. I waved her over and said “Do I know you, you look very familiar?”
“Oh, umm, you don’t know me” she said quite shyly. “We bumped into each other at the grocery store last week.”
“Oh yeah, well it’s nice to meet you, did you want a picture?”
“Uh, sure” she replied and got her phone out.
We took a couple of selfies and then she quietly said “I have something for you” and as she reached into her bag I got really nervous. Maybe this was my stalker. Now that I think of it, she’s at training a lot, and yes I did see her at my grocery store just before that stuff was on my car.
I nervously looked around for security and mumbled some excuse about forgetting something and sprinted back into the stadium and straight to Zac’s office.
Reader’s pov
I can’t believe it, I finally got the time, opportunity and guts to talk to Joe and he ran off. I started to put the drawing I’d done of him back in my backpack when I looked up and saw security coming towards me.
I quickly walked towards my car and managed to get in and drive away before they got to me. I hope they didn’t catch my licence plate and haul me in for questioning. Just my luck I’d get in trouble because of an innocent meeting at the grocery store.
Maybe this was my sign to just find a new hobby?
Another week later - Joe’s pov
Once again, I’m sitting in Coach’s office with the detectives who this time have some good news.
“We’ve made an arrest” the detective told us.
I breathed a sigh of relief that this was over “That was quick, how did you get a break so fast?”
“Well, it all came down to the fans. Those at practice helped us out with some info, and your observations also gave us some insight. We tracked the person down and an arrest was made this morning. We have some pretty tight proof, so you may not even have to testify, but if you do, we can probably put them away for a few years. At the least, you can get a restraining order that prevents them from coming near your house, or the stadium, or generally within about 500metres of wherever you are.”
“Thanks detective, I'm so relieved” I said. “Did they happen to say why they did it?”
“Just a big fan, a bit lonely and wanted to be closer to you but just went about it the wrong way. Kinda feel sorry for them, but you know, we can’t let emotion into it, otherwise we’d never catch anyone.”
“Well, thanks again detective” Zac said “We are more than grateful for your speedy resolution to this issue.”
1 year later - Reader’s pov
I walked into the lounge room and smiled, I couldn’t believe I was here. The misunderstanding from 12 months ago led to a beautiful friendship between me and Joe. I got over all my nerves with him and we were now able to laugh and joke about the situation.
The police did clock my licence plate that day at training, and they did come to my house and question me about the stalking. I didn’t hold anything against Joe for thinking it could be me, I was awkward and nervous and shy whenever he was around and he obviously just didn’t see my vulnerability.
But at the next training session, he saw me again and came to talk to me. He asked me if he and I could have a conversation over coffee, so we went and he told me they’d arrested his stalker and he apologised profusely for thinking it could be me.
He said that when I’d told him I had something for him and reached into my bag, he freaked out and just left.
I laughed and told him that I’d drawn him a picture and I’d love for him to have it if he wanted it.
We chatted for a while longer and then went separate ways. We’d swapped numbers so that I could arrange to give him the picture and we ended up texting back and forth most days.
I’m not sure if anything will come of this but a good friendship but you never know…
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Hihi! I’m here with some writer’s asks (sorry if it’s a lot 😅)
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?
🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?
🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?
🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love
🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis
🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?
🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before
🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?
📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?
❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?
🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?
🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate
🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?
☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
Thank you sm for the love 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?
when I was part of the 1d fandom in 2012ish I wrote a tonnnn of fanfiction on my blog 😅 I had no business writing and reading so much filth
🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?
oy vey. Honestly, id give it like a 6, it’s not terrible but rereading the same thing over and over again will make me crazy after awhile LMAO I do like it cause I’ll write a pretty basic outline of a scene out then go in and fill in where I can to add layers and texture!!
🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?
@chockholdsillegal not saying we’d be great at covering our tracks but this my homie right here (and your job might help us be able to get rid of evidence in a way other people don’t have access to 🤔)
🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love
forever and always will rec @heathermason6060 like holy shit their Matchmaker Merle pt 1??? Serial killer rick and daryl??? 🧑🍳💋
🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis
@weirdoneattheparty your internet sleuthing is incredible and more people need to appreciate the work it takes for the shit you are able to dig up
🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?
I like reader inserts ! Writing them and reading them personally! Like partially yes I am the character but also they are their own character at the same time w a totally different lore than me and putting myself in their shoes is just as fun. Like would I make all the decisions fmc would? No but im not about to complain about a character acting morally gray or making bad decisions cause if they didn’t there would literally be no plot lmao
🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before
speaking of lore hmm you want like normal? I own my own pet sitting business on the east coast in the US :) I’m also a surrogate baby and have a bunch of half sibs that I’m close with now as an adult!
🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?
slide into them DMs and let’s be friends OR if you reblog good stories or write interesting stuff! I also follow people who regularly comment on my writing cause I love you sm
📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?
here’s a screenshot of something I saved for Heart of Us inspo! I have a long note of drabbles of dialogue / scene ideas and screenshots of things I find so this one was from tik tok
❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?
god as cliche as it is I love a good and juicy love triangle. I also love when reader/fmc is able to handle herself and is tough as nails. I mean I’m literally writing the fanfic I want to see so idk what else but also I love @heathermason6060 because she writes an amazingly desperate and needy daryl so whenever I need a hit of that to my system I go to her ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?
honestly I love any and all comments when they’re kind! But esp when someone is like “holy shit” lmao or even just a really nice “can’t stop reading this” or “so glad I found this” I’m telling you comments make my day and make me want to keep writing!! I love any and all!! ❤️
🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate
ooof… well I’m gonna go with a character I hate at this exact moment in my rewatch which is Eugene. Let me complain then I’ll say something nice. EUGENE YOU WERE SO EASY TO MAKE THE FLIP TO NEGAN YOU ASSHOLE WTF. Ok nice things he’s v smart for someone who was a liar / fraud he still knows how to do SO MUCH !!! He also was v kind when he told negan’s wives he knew they were there not of their own volition and didn’t want to take advantage of them. I also understand why he flipped to negan so readily because they treated him so freaking well and he was always being ridiculed and told he wasn’t enough back w his old group!
🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?
Other than the obvious in watching the show, god I love music. Whenever I hear a good lyric I’m like oh shit I need to base an entire story around that or the feeling music will give I’m like this is how daryl would feel or fmc would feel when this and that happen!! Poetry is also a huge one, as seen above with my recent screenshot to my notes.
☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?
when I’ve been on tumblr before I knew short and sweet is usually best, and the fact twd fit so well into Daryl Dixon I said let’s try this lmao and it worked!! So now I am Daryl the walking Dixon lmao
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
this goes for books/novels as well. You need to show me how a character is feeling, show me the scenery, the atmosphere instead of TELLING me. My favorite example of this comes from Harry Potter which does way better to explain than I could writing out everything:
Instead of “Harry started crying”, in GOF it says “The thing against which [Harry] had been fighting on and off ever since he had come out of the maze was threatening to overpower him. He could feel a burning, prickling feeling in the inner corners of his eyes. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.”
This goes for atmosphere/scenery too! What the heck are the smells! The sounds! What does it feel like!! So whenever fanfic or books do nothing to embellish any feelings I usually click out or DNF
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As a writer in the SNK fandom, how do you push through the discouragement from lack of engagement? No one comments on my works and it makes me really sad. At most, I’ll get one comment whenever I post something and it’ll be something like “Please update!!” People always say “write for yourself” and I do, but if I wanted to only write for myself, I wouldn’t bother posting my work. I had a work with 30+ chapters and whenever I posted, I would get hundreds of hits and no comments. I abandoned it because posting made me insecure and anxious. I write for other fandoms and don’t have this problem there, so I don’t think the issue is my writing.
Hey there!
First of all, I'm sorry to hear about the lack of engagement you've been getting on your work. That really sucks, and I know first-hand what that's like. My own work doesn't get much traction at all, either, particularly in the SnK fandom, and I don't know why that is. Whether it's people simply being too lazy to comment, or too entitled, thinking they're owed someone's work and effort and shouldn't have to pay it back in any way, or if it's some weird insecurity on their part, not wanting to comment because they feel shy or something. But I have the same issue you do, and I'm certain it's got nothing to do with the quality of the writing itself, for either of us. Sometimes I think it's because I'm not writing what's "popular", i.e. Levi/reader fics, or Levi/Eren or whatever. I don't know. I feel like most people just want to read smut, but I'm not into that at all. I updated and/or posted three new chapters for my AoT fics over the last, couple days, and I've gotten a grand total of 2 comments, I think, lol. And whenever I post a chapter or a one-shot here on tumblr, I'm lucky if I get one or two likes, and I almost never get a single reblog. It's super discouraging, and I don't blame you at all for abandoning your own writing. I've felt very often like just quitting when nobody can be bothered to leave any sort of comment, or the most they can manage is a one word comment, or a demand for an update. Hardly anybody bothers to actually tell you what they liked about a story or a chapter that you've posted.
To be honest, it's not easy to continue on when you just aren't getting any feedback. As you said, if people that write fanfiction were just doing it for themselves, they wouldn't bother publishing it online. Fandom thrives off of engagement and interaction. You'll get people whining about a fandom dying out, but then they don't lift a finger to try and keep it alive. I understand not always having the time to leave a comment on something, but once in a while would be nice. If someone is interested enough in your story to click on it, assuming they enjoy it, they should make the effort to let you know.
Mainly, I end up motivating myself just through my own passion for the source material and/or character I'm writing for. It's the same with my analyses posts. I get very little engagement, most of the time, with those, and I work pretty hard on them, too. But I keep writing them because, ultimately, I care about the media I'm analyzing and want to work out my thoughts and feelings about it. It's nice if somebody interacts with the posts, but generally, I don't expect it anymore.
It's harder with fiction, though, because while analyses posts can be seen as something more academic in nature, fiction is a form of entertainment, and so you assume people are reading it to enjoy themselves. Well, if they're enjoying it, then they should let the creator know they are.
Anyway, I feel like I'm not giving you a very good answer here. Basically, the way I keep writing, even when I don't get any engagement, is just by being interested in the source material and characters myself. So if I'm writing a story about Levi, at the end of the day, it's because I personally love his character and find enjoyment in writing for him, creating different scenarios to put him in and bringing them to life, etc... But again, it's not easy. I can't tell you how often I just want to quit. Some days, I think I will entirely. Art is meant to be shared with other people. If nobody wants to read your work, or isn't willing to let you know that they're reading and enjoying your work, then it's basically the same as telling a creator that they shouldn't bother. There's a certain level of responsibility, I feel like, from readers. They should, at a certain point, feel beholden to leave a comment if they're enjoying your work and regularly engaging with it. It's the least they could do. It takes a lot of work to write fanfiction, and nobody is getting paid to write it. The payment is when people actually tell you what they think.
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Thank you SO much
Hey, I just wanted to say to everyone who’s supporting me in this very unfortunate and just plain shitty thing that’s happening on AO3 - thank you. I really do appreciate it. AND just for those who have absolutely no idea what’s going on, I’ll explain it.
So, basically around three weeks ago I wrote and posted a smut fic on AO3 about two characters from Jackson’s Diary (if you don’t know what it is, it’s a Webtoon) and I immediately received an ENORMOUS amount of backlash, due to the fact the one of the characters was 17 - ergo, underage. I thought “well, that’s a reasonable thing to get titchy about”, so I re-tagged the work and stated in the A/N that the specific character was aged up a couple months, just to smoothen everything out. But, SURPRISE, it didn’t work. I started getting more backlash, which then turned into hate. It just kept coming and coming. At this point I was like “Jesus, how does one short fic cause all this?”. Then I received several requests (actually no, orders) to take the work down. Now, I’m new to writing fanfiction. I’ve been into reading it for maybe 4 years now, but I’ve only just started publishing works and this is the first fandom that I’ve officially joined, and I didn’t know that specific people had power over what I can and can’t write, sooo...yeah. But then, things took a turn.
I was scrolling through the fandom one day when I found a post titled “Please stop”. I was curious and clicked on it, only to find that it wasn’t an actual fanfic but a call-out post, telling all the people (aka me) who post smut fics (I literally posted ONE) to stop because it’s a.) disgusting, b.) is a basic representation of pedophilia and c.) is basically child p*rnography. Now I was astonished at these accusations. I aged up ONE character by a couple months, now I’m being called a pedophile? I explained that I myself am a minor, even younger than the underaged character, but of course that didn’t change anything. I tried to explain politely in the comments section that I didn’t mean anybody any harm whatsoever, and I was then harassed (and that’s not an overstatement) by several people, being told to take it down. So, my naive little brain couldn’t take it anymore so I took the work down. I then posted an apology. Now the reason I did this was not because I regretted writing the work, no no, it was just to stop all the goddamn disgusting comments about me. But it turns out I’d only added fuel to the fire.
I started receiving even more vile comments, some including death threats, others untruthful accusations about how I was a groomer or a child sexual abuser, others just calling me the most disgusting person alive. This had a serious effect on my mental health. I’m naturally a very happy person. I love making people laugh. I love making people smile and feel good about themselves, but now I felt like shit! I felt like I was all the things people were calling me. I was told to kill myself because everyone hated me. I don’t think there was a single supportive or positive comment on that post. I left it up for ages, until one day I came across a comment (from the same person who posted the “Please stop” fic) talking about a TikTok video about it. And I thought...”oh no”.
I IMMEDIATELY got my ass over to TikTok and saw the video, and...let’s just say I didn’t take it well. The comments were...unexplainable. Calling me the most vile words a person can be called. Accusing me of pedophilia, for the thousandth time! So many comments...horrible things said by people who don’t even know me! Judgement of my character, of my virtues, and they just kept coming. Then there was ANOTHER post by the same account, which then brought in MORE hurtful comments. By then I’d had enough. I had a full-on mental breakdown, trashing literally everything. Then anxiety started. I’m still in school, and I kept thinking “what if somebody at my school knows I did this?”. I started becoming anxious all the time, and it was all I thought about. Until somebody actually supported me and posted about the whole thing on Tumblr, which brought in SO many wonderful people! And I’ve tried explaining it to people on TikTok and AO3, but nobody will listen. But here I know people will listen. I’m sorry for sharing my whole boring story with you all, and by the way, it’s still ongoing so if you want to go have a look, it’s still up on AO3 with more comments every day!
But yeah, I just wanted to say that I really appreciate all my supporters in this difficult time, you really do make my day.
#jackson's diary#ao3#yeah it's pretty long#i love my supporters#MY FIRST ACTUAL TUMBLR POST YAYYY#kind of a serious subject#cyber bullying#online harassment
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Hi darling! How’s your day going? For the writers ask game could you answer these? 🎱🍓🥑🌻🧃🍄❄️☁️
Hi darling! My day’s going great, thank you for asking 💖 Here's my best shot at answering these:
🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats Okay, don't kill me (should keep my doors locked), but I don’t have an AO3 account 😭 I don’t know where to start, and every time I try to read ATYD, I stop myself because I know my heart’s going to get beaten, cracked, and chewed! I'm a very sensitive person, trust me.
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? Already answered!
🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? Ugh, I'd probably make a group chat and ask anyone available to help, but if I had to choose (very hard to), I’d probably go with....you, @thatdammchickennugget @wnbweasley @nottswitch and @berryzxx [also, (after they would scold me about it) @kquil , @unstablereader and @somewereinthegalaxi would also help me, I believe]! I just feel like you'd all drop everything to help me ✨hide the body✨(gosh, i tagged a lot of ppl)
🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis Ahh, stop making me choose, Yas, or I swear I’ll cry! 😭😭 I love and appreciate all my mutuals so much, I just can’t choose—I’m so sorry!
🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before I don't think I actually have any! I post all my life happenings (which are none, I know my life is boring outside Tumblr).
🍄 ⇢ share a headcanon for one of your favorite ships or pairings Already answered!
❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? Already answered!
☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? I'm a Swiftie (which should be obvious by now) and a really big one! Iamgonnagetyouback was one of my favorites from TTPD, and it just kinda stuck.
Thank you for sending in the asks, Yas! 💖
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Sorry for the onslaught of questions, but could you tell me how you learned to write so beautifully? Like the complexities of characters' emotions, how you describe things, tips to improve vocab, some good book recommendations, the way u use idioms and sayings so perfectly and just everything else you do? Ur writing is just so good that it actually makes me feel things 😭😭 I need to become like youuu
This is a very heavy duty question and I’ll try my absolute hardest to answer this!
First things first, I do want to clarify that if you’re asking about the writing of chapter one, I want to make a note that a lot of the flowing text and descriptions was written by my co-writer- BarnacleGirl. We have a system where I write the rough draft, and dialogue, then hand it over to her to polish and add on some additions. However, that has not been done for chapters 2, 3 and the prologue. Those three mediums have not been touched by her writing and is simply mine. So if you’re specifically wondering about the details in chapter one, send in another ask directed at her and I’ll get her to answer it for you!
If you have the right idea and meant to send it for the whole fic, I’ll continue!
Character writing hasn’t always been my best work in the past. Nobody starts off writing complex characters with compelling morals until they grow a bit and experience a lot of life. What really taught me how to write was putting myself into each character and making them human. I give my characters the bad parts of myself- the good parts- parts that my friends see and that I don’t. Situations I’ve gone through are sprinkled through my writing and the emotions written on the pages is real because it’s taken from a real person.
This isn’t me saying that if you haven’t gone through hardships, or put yourself into characters, you’ll make flat ones. However, making human characters comes with human qualities- even bad ones.
Killer isn’t a good person.
He’s not. He just isn’t. He’s one of the main characters for the story and sympathized with but with his actions he’s not considered a good person.
But guess what? Dream isn’t a good one either. Nobody is.
Because the idea of good and bad people is an unreachable concept that we as human beings can’t follow. Everyone is going to mess up and hurt somebody on accident- maybe even on purpose. And in return- you’ll deal with hardships and heartbreak too. And the people you hurt or are hurt by will all see you in different lights. You’ll be a good person to many and a bad person to equally as much. So declaring a character a overall good or bad person doesn’t carry the same weight as real life dynamics.
Erasing the idea that characters have an archetype of good and bad really helped me make good characters and kept me out of my box. You can have characters who are horrible to some people but kind to others- characters who love very hard but show it terribly. But that’s what makes these individuals people. The bad traits and the mix of good create who they are. Their good actions and bad actions have to make sense for what they are thinking. Nobody is born evil. People become evil and even your most horrifically evil characters still have to have human traits remaining inside to make them one.
When I get an idea of a character and their vibes, diving into their emotions becomes easy because I can better envision myself in their place. Sometimes this can get emotional, but building that connection with your characters can really help you type out their thoughts and feelings like second nature. I advise you to use a lot of drowning and fire metaphors for emotions- as a rush of cold and heat is the two most common sensations when someone is feeling a strong emotion.
Tips for vocabulary: use a thesaurus LMAOOO
I’m SO bad at vocabulary. I don’t know what so many words mean and I constantly have to find replacement words for some of my text so don’t worry if ur ashamed about doing that- I do it all the time. My favorite thesaurus is word hippo, as it has so many different variations.
I unfortunately don’t have any book recommendations as I haven’t read a lot recently- but my writing style right now is heavily based on on the book All the Light we Cannot See. I’m not a huge fan of the book, but the writing style in it is impeccable and totally influenced my writing when I read it in sophomore year. Roseverse was also directly inspired by For the Forgotten Ones on ao3 and while it didn’t inspire me writing style wise, it did motivate a lot of my world building.
I also really appreciate you liking my work- it makes me really happy! However, there’s no need to become exactly like me in writing, as writing styles are just as complex and different as art styles. How you write is unique to you, and a statement of what you bring to the table. There’s beauty in that. Never be ashamed of your own writing style or skills. Keep wanting to improve, of course, but keep your love for writing centered around what you can make with YOUR hands. Because someday, your personal writing style and art may amaze another person out there who will want to write just like you.
You’re capable of amazement. Never forget that.
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AUTHOR PORTRAIT ...
get to know the author behind the blog! repost, don't reblog.
Basics
NAME: vos AGE: 23 PRONOUNS: they/them YEARS OF WRITING: that definitely depends on what you classify as writing but i discovered rp as a concept in 2010 which was probably just a bit after i got into writing little short stories and things as a kid. i was writing them by hand in a little notepad that somebody in my family handed over to a school teacher, extremely mortifying ordeal to me at the time lmfao
Reflection
WHY DID YOU PICK UP WRITING? i’m pretty sure i first started by writing shitty warrior cats fanfics actually, and i didn’t know that fics or fandom in general was even a thing at the time so u could say i was destined for this sort of brainrot fgdjkh little nine year old me also encountered rp for the first time by searching for warrior cats flash games (i guess?? idk what i actually thought i’d find) and instead wound up on some random webpage with a chatbox. moved on from there to writing awful, horrible (but very fun) naruto oc’s on a website that i think was called chatango some years later, dabbled a little on imvu, and started writing on tumblr around 2015 iirc
DO YOU HAVE ANY WRITING ROUTINES? i wouldn’t say so? sometimes i’ll listen to like… instrumental interludes from certain albums or smth that i won’t enjoy too much because i find music very distracting, not just for writing but in general, and sitting in silence is a weird feeling to me too. when it comes to other things i need a podcast or video essay or something similar to be at all productive but it’s hard to focus on writing with someone yapping in your ear. i used to save writing for nights even when i have free time throughout the day, because i tend to feel bad about sitting at a computer screen all day, but with my activity in its current state i have to sit down and get it out the moment inspiration and energy align themselves for me.
WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PART ABOUT WRITING? sorry to steal your answer but i def have to agree with what layla said re the community aspect of rp actually. it’s so nice to be able to just click with someone over a shared (sometimes niche) interest and love for certain medias/characters/dynamics/genres etc. the feeling of finding someone who shares your vision. and also stemming from the same thing, i’ve always felt that my favorite and most “solid” muses are the ones that i’ve gotten the chance to develop alongside another through plotting. love shared canon, love affiliated oc’s, love group verses. allllll that good stuff.
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING. gonna break the format we’re following here because i have to ramble and idk how to break all this into three titles, so obviously being succinct isn’t one of the answers here kfdjghd
i always try to capture a different flow and style (???) of prose depending on who i’m writing, and i’m never sure if that really comes through for others or if i just seem inconsistent, but whenever i look back at old blogs i can see it for myself and that at least keeps me content :) i want to read my writing back and feel that it has character outside of just the spoken dialogue.
i like to spend a lot of time with a piece of writing, which realistically is not to my benefit in terms of activity, but i do just really enjoy drafting and redrafting, rearranging, nitpicking at everything until it’s as close to being what i want to be as i can get it. so that’s more about the writing process than the writing itself, but i think it’s still important to allow myself to have fun with it fkjghd
pulling a blank on a third thing bc this is actually a really difficult question but i’ll come back and edit it later if something pops into my head kfjgdh
A question for the next person
HAVE YOU MADE ANY STRONG CONNECTIONS / FRIENDS DURING YOUR TIME WRITING? for sure. one of my dearest friends in this world is not a writer but someone who i met as a mutual friend of my first rp partner. i’m not really in touch with that person who introduced us anymore but i simply couldn’t live without my bestie and i consider writing the only reason we really met and she gets to kinda "beta" some of the things i do write dfkgjhd i’ve also traveled to the states a couple of times in my teens to meet a rp buddy who i’ve known since i was around ,, twelve or so i believe.
wouldn’t be right not to shout out @ohchosen here either because i was very close to leaving tumblr (and also probably rp) for good when we became friends, and writing/plotting tmkz together has been one of the best experiences i’ve ever had on this website, where friends and mutuals tend to come and go. you never did. you’re probs the funniest person i’ve ever spoken to, craft the most beautifully written responses imaginable, you put a world of effort into developing your muses and you let me derail every single one of conversations to talk about music instead gfjhdg sorry i’m so mean to you. ily a lot.
there’s also a handful of mutuals who i don’t necessarily talk or interact with very much anymore but have been around for years at this point and i have fond memories with too. always so so so glad to see you pop up on the dash, it makes me smile every time so i’ll use this as an opportunity to wave at you, you know who you are <3
NEW QUESTION: where do you draw the most inspiration from when writing? music, other medias, ur fave author, a dream you once had etc.
tagged by @oneireth tysm <3 tagging val take my love letter as ur tag, also hi @heliador @loetise @tiderider @yeonban @pearlcure @deathsmaidens @sungracd !!!!!
#this shouldn't have taken so long to do . i'm nothing if not a yap#sorry if you've already been tagged i haven't been perceiving the dash too much lately 😭#❝ 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 ♤*´. ── dash game.
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December 16 Holiday Prompt fic: Romanogers
Note: This is set in my Mission: Marriage universe where Steve and Natasha had a marriage of necessity to keep Ross happy.
Prompts: mutual pining, Romanogers, I’ll be home for Christmas
I’ll Be home for Christmas
You Can count on me
Please Have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree…..
Natasha was huddled on a bunk in the ship smuggling her out of harm’s way after she’d completed her mission for Fury. It had been a very long five months and she desperately missed her husband. Forming attachments did not come easy to her, but living with Steve had started to make her appreciate quiet domestic life. They may have started out as a marriage of necessity to help keep him out of Ross’s clutches, but she’d quickly realized that her heart was in danger. The feelings she’d ruthlessly tamper down in 2014 had begun to grow again, and it was a little terrifying, but also comforting. The Red Room had not succeeded in crushing out her humanity. To pass the time, she started writing a letter.
Dear Steve,
I’m not always great with words or feelings, but I find myself missing you more deeply than ever. I missed you by my side. I missed you having my back. I missed how well we work together. I missed your smartass comments. I miss you. I’m finally on my way home and I can’t wait to celebrate our first Christmas together. I hope it’s only the beginning of many more.
Yours,
Natasha
P. S. Don’t let Clint raid the liquor stash. He’s known to be a kleptomaniac when it comes to the good stuff.
Steve finished wrapping the last present and stood up to stretch. He was ahead of the game for once and was extremely satisfied. He’d put up a few small decorations, but no tree. That was a special event he needed to share with Natasha. He wanted to share with Natasha. They’d been married in April and she’d been gone since July and Steve was pining for her. His friends had taken to shaking their heads at him.
“You’ve got it bad, Steve,” Clint sighed. “I know that look. Just don’t go off your feed, now. She’d kill me if I let you waste away.”
Steve had laughed and reminded the archer that he’d promised Nat he’d keep Clint out of trouble.
December 20th arrived and Steve was engrossed in a good book, Christmas music playing softly in the background, when a key turned in the lock and six quick taps were rapped on the door. Hearing his wife’s signal, Steve bolted from his chair and had her in his arms before she’d even set her bags down.
“Awe, Steve, did somebody miss me?” She asked teasingly inside his embrace.
“More than words can say. That was the longest five months of my life,” he told her, clutching her tightly.
“Did everything go okay? No injuries you’re gonna try and hide from me?”
He pulled away to look her over carefully.
“No,” Nat told him fondly. “It wasn’t that kind of a mission.”
“Thank God,” Steve said fervently. “What can I do for you?”
“Some dinner might be nice. Doesn’t have to be fancy. I’ll hit the shower in the meantime. Man, it’s good to be home.”
She looked around the apartment, taking it all in contentedly.
“No tree yet, Steve?”
“I wanted to pick it out with you,” Steve answered honestly, making her heart melt again. “I had faith you’d make it home for Christmas.”
Natasha gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“Ugh, Steve. You’re too precious. I’ll be right back.”
Frozen pizza and leftover wings would probably not be most people’s welcome home dinner of choice, but to Steve and Nat, it was perfection. Somewhere along the line her hand found its way into his and it stayed there as they quietly caught up and revelled in each other’s presence.
Steve saw an envelope lying on his pillow when he went in to grab some extra blankets. Seeing his name on the front in her handwriting, he picked it up and read the letter inside. A lump grew in his throat as he read it and realized the truth of what she was saying.
He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, appearing to be casual, but he wasn’t fooled. She was holding her breath.
“Nat, this means so much. I think we’re both on the same page when it comes to wanting to make this real. Am I right?”
“You are,” she admitted, a tiny catch in her voice as she moved toward him.
“Steve, can I stay with you tonight?” She asked after she’d kissed him nearly senseless. “Your mattress is better.”
Steve barked a laugh at her “reason”, but nodded.
“I’ll see if I can’t persuade you to make it a regular thing,” he whispered as she tugged him toward the bed.
“Shut up and get busy, Rogers,” she ordered, pushing him to sit down so she could climb on his lap.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, going in for another kiss.
Merry Christmas to us.
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