#I WILL NEVER FORGET THE DAY THIS EPISODE AIRED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightwing-s · 3 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different.

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone.

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet.

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there.

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie.

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now?

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away.

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory.

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could.

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind.

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

“Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes.

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it.

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together. We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company.

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor.

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

397 notes · View notes

festering-obsession · 10 months

Text

How You Fell Into Their Trap

TW/CW: Self- Destructive Behavior, Hollywood-ized Disorders, Yandere/Dark Behavior, Violence, Dubious Consent, Drugging, Slight Divergence from Source, Canon-Typical Violence

A/N: Pacing could be weird in both stories. In both, the reader is pondering the past before it jumps to the present to help with any confusion before reading!!

Slenderman:

You want to tear your eyes out, pull at your skin, and scream until nothing left can be heard. It would be better than the constant paranoia eating at you. The splitting headaches and the dazed look on your face as you slowly forget what day it is.

No medicine, no drug can even make you lose an ounce of these random episodes. What's worse, it that they seem to drag on longer and occur more. You wipe the bile off the corner of your mouth as you lean next to the wall in front of the toilet.

The doctors even are puzzled. They best the can sum it up to is you’re faking it. Your body is faking it. Then why can't you stop any of it? In fact, you beg your body to stop.

You can't ignore the fact that you were a sickly child. Constantly falling under nearly the same symptoms but after your parents moved, it stopped. Occasional bouts here and there, but maybe the cleaner air farther from the city helped. Your parents agreed that you eventually just grew out of your sickness, hoping to move on and forget.

But you could never forget the same figure that haunted you since a child. The same tall, white figure, faceless, in a suit. He was everywhere. As soon as you looked, he was there for a split second. And you could feel his hostile aura waiting to strike and kill you. Even as an adult, that face haunted you.

You tried to pin point what triggered your episodes. Maybe after you went to the forrest with your friend, maybe a weird bug bit you? Or you contracted an infection somehow? The forest was beautiful. Tall trees, lush grasses, variety of flaura, and the mountains raised in the backdrop. All was suppose to go well, but going there was the worst mistake of your life. The previous delusions you seemed to have increased tenfolds and it seemed you threw you friend in the same fate as you.

The two of you wandered the forest after the wind rushed and seemed to grip the map from his hands. And even better? Not a lick of signal. When night time hit, you entered a real life nightmare. The figure that haunted you as a child came back. And scarier than ever. But this time, he also saw it.

Your friend gripped your hand as the two of you narrowly escaped the almost glitching creature. Appearing behind, then in front, and then in a damn tree. When you lost track of the figure, your friend was also losing track of himself. He heaved as he gripped at his hair before pulling at it. Above your own urge to do the same, you tried to grab his hands and stop him. Your friend looked at you as he began to claw at his eyes.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME." He roared as blood began to seep down him. "He told me, he told me that if I touch you, my death will be put in his hands." He sobbed out scooting away from you.

"He? Who's he?" You cried out, confused as you saw your friend trying to hurt himself.

"Him. The man. The one in the shadows. He told me that if I even look at you anymore, he'll rip my eyes out himself." He banged his head on the ground, still clawing at his eyes. "But he granted me the mercy to at least do it myself." Your friend reached for a jagged rock and brought it to his face.

Your head was filled with static to the point you passed out, and awake in your living room. You wanted it to be a dream, but it was farther from the truth. Your coworker and close friend, hung himself in the same place you two hiked at two days prior.

It was your fault, and you couldn't bring yourself to let it happen again as you hauled yourself in your apartment. Refusing contact with anyone. You were just meant to be a disease.

The apartment went on fire, and you never felt more estatic. Finally, you would greet death with open arms, and your family wouldn't live with the regret if you took your own life. Shit, maybe they could even sue to gain some money off your death. Maybe you'd actually bring fortune to someone.

You laid pliant on your bed, smoke filtering inside your room as the fire danced and spread around the room. A smile on your face before you felt its presence again.

The tall figure hovering over you this time, but no sickness accompanied with it. Faceless, except spots that were slightly sunken in that could be mistaken for one, put a finger up to his face presumably to its mouth. He then disappeared and you fell into unconsciousness with it as well.

And appeared back in the same fucking forrest. This time, surrounded by three human(ish) men.

A crazed man with goggles and a mask, wielding a bloodied axe. Next to him, was a seemingly timid one, dressed in an orange hoodie and when you tried to focus closer, all that greeted you was red, sullen eyes. A feminine mask graced the other one as he donned an orange bomber jacket.

Your mouth felt dry and when you tried to scream, it came out a pathetic groan for help. They clearly had no interest in doing so, more concerned on talking to one another in poorly hushed voices.

"You handled them too rough! If they get a bruise, he won't like it." One choked out in a worried tone.

"They're not a doll, they're fine. And besides, it's not like he told us to deliver them to him in 5-star hotel. He wanted them to be brought to the forest and we did. I'm sure he wouldn't be fond if we held on them too long, so to the floor they go." The one behind the mask spoke, steady voiced.

And another air of static rose around you, stiffening your surroundings. You fell in and out of consciousness and could barely even tell if time was moving, or not.

The men had left sometime ago, 3 hours or minutes? You didn't know. All you could feel was the mossy earth and crushed leaves beneath your slightly aching body.

Vision blurred as the man in the black and white dotted across behind your eye lids in mind as you slipped unconscious into a fever like dream. But this time, it didn't make you sick. It was replaced by a sense of, longing? What was once your nightmare incarnated, seemed softer (even for lack of facial features).

You felt as if watching yourself in third person, your figure collapsed on the floor of a velvety chapel, a heavy white [dress/tuxedo] weighing you down to the ground as you could hear a low melody playing in the background, a church hymn low in the distance as the pianist follows suit.

Pushing yourself up with your two arms, your mind follows the red path trailing to the center. You hear murmuring in the distance but as you scanned your surroundings, no one was there. Just the tall white figure dressed in the clean tuxedo.

You felt yourself gliding towards him, despite not even getting up on your feet. But when you looked down, you saw the inky black tendrils span out like tiny veins combining to makin thick ropey tentacles. They slowly brought you towards him as your hands slowly held onto the decaying flower bouquet.

You opened your mouth only to find no words were coming out. You gripped at your lips, trying to force something out to protest against whatever this was but the sweet piano was only heard echoing throughout.

Finally, you were brought to the empty pillar, but the entity's limbs never left your body. Instead, it seemed to latch onto your harder, as it expanded over your body. You gazed over the empty chapel, but the long and slender hands of the monster in front of you made you look at him.

Blank, faceless, pale, but you could feel the tension in the air as he stared at you in his own way. His stark white body contrasting deeply with his black tuxedo. You felt tears rush down your face but the monster seemed to enjoy that sight. As your face came close to his, the static in your head grew. The only word you could make out amiss all the noise was mine.

As your lips finally made contact with the blank slate of a man, you woke up in a large bed. As you glanced around, you found dust on the bed, but everything else looking surprisingly in pristine condition.

Just as you were about to scream, a large hand grasped your shoulder. The entity, that monster. But, instead of the normal vomit inducing headache and static you would feel when you confronted him was gone.

Yet, that [dress/tuxedo] from the dream still remained. As you looked down at your outfit in confusion, the monster slipped his hands under your chin to meet his gaze. The static-like voice replaced with a deep soothing, voice finally talked as his other hand made it up your back.

"Now that your officially mine, I can't find myself being able to hold back much longer."

Jeff The Killer:

Jeffery always seemed on the brink of becoming unhinged. Ever since building up to the, incident. His family moved to the neighborhood, normal enough. His parents, his brother, all seemed well. Even at first meetings Jeffery looked sane enough at first glance. Nothing stood about him. Like every other teenage boy. His light brown hair framed his face in the typical unkempt way with his blue eyes shining against his complexion. His clothes were obviously picked out by his mother since he never cared to actually shop for his wardrobe.

He was not your first choice to be friends with. But as your parents grew cozy with his, they near forced you to befriend the quiet boy.

It was awkward. Standing next to him at the bus stop with small talk eventually landed to you two sitting on the bus together. It grew to where he would spare you an earbud to play music on his music player. Then, it turned to you actually seeking him out during class projects, not because you had no one else to, but you began to somewhat enjoy his company.

You began to come to his house, and him to your house without the prompting of your parents. Maybe you were just as strange as him which explained the quicker connection between the two of you. It ranged from drawing, reading horror stories to eachother on the ever growing "internet", running to the near gas station for a snack stop only to get brain freezes from racing eachother who could drink their slushie faster.

His interests slowly grew darker. Darker videos, interests in the occult and local murders and death, and even visiting previous crime scenes. You didn't notice at first, you enjoyed the more taboo subjects, but he seemed to take it on a different level. But like you, he was just a young adult trying to figure out the big world, right...?

As his interests grew more morbid, a group of boys began to pick on him. His brother did what he could do to halt them as you tried to center Jeffery's attention elsewhere, but you knew it was beginning to wear him down.

He fought them. Not only did he fight one by himself, but three. He was scuffed up, but the other boys more so. You felt in a daze. Although it was self defense, he would be put in the blame. He came to your house soon after, but he wasn't in a panic. He was happy. Estatic. You fussed over his bruises and small cuts as you dabbed on first aid supplies. He couldn't stop talking for the death of him. You ignored most of it as he tended to talk lots of nonsense most the time, but a sentence stood out you couldn't ignore.

"I never felt more alive."

He looked at you. His blue eyes shining threw his choppy, layered hair. He gently held your wrist in the middle of applying an antibiotic cream.

"S/o, I want you to know, if anything happens, you're coming with me. I promise that." His once happy persona faded as he stared at you solemnly. You nodded slowly and continued patching him up.

When the police came, his brother Liu took his spot and told them it was him. You've never seen Jeffery so desperate to admit his own crimes but the police left, leaving the younger brother. It changed something in him. He only trusted Liu and you. But with him gone, he was clingy and.. handsy. Always trying to have you physically touching him in some way. Either him pressed up against your side or his hand wrapped around yours. His twisted mind finally grasping the concept of how easily people can be taken from him.

To no one's surprise, he did get in trouble more at school. His parents blaming him for getting into so much trouble in his senior year. To your surprise, not too long after that fight, his parents forced him to go to a party with them as a way to "clean" up their image. Like the loyal friend you were, you went with him.

It all happened too fast. His bullies were back as ready for vengeance all the same as if they didn't cause enough damage. One grabbed at you taunting him, "No big brother now, and no [girlfriend/boyfriend] to help you either!" One cackled as they drew a knife near your throat. He never had lost his composure so fast as he saw you. In his mind, you were his and that disgusting shit touched you.

Pure chaos erupted as two boys dropped dead. Blood on both men. Police were called but none came fast enough. Tears went down your face as you tried to grab one of them to stop but your parents held you back in horror watching them fight. Eventually Jeffery got the advantage and took time to prepare his next move in state of manic happiness. He didn't mind the bleach dripping down his frame. He had murder on his mind.

"Remember my promise. I will come to get you soon!" He looked back at you before he grabbed onto the knife and lodged it into the attackers chest. You felt dizzy with the scene in front of you, finally hearing sirens from the cops.

The final movement from the attacker lifted up a match and sent Jeffery on fucking fire. A blood curling scream from the crowd erupted before you felt sick to your stomach and passed out.

He was sent to the hospital, and as much as you were trying to visit him, only family was allowed. Countless nights you worried over the health of a boy you didn't even want to be friends with in the beginning. Too weak to talk to him one on one. All information you got on his wellbeing was from his parents who were already stressed enough.

When he was finally released from hospital and was being sent home, your parents allowed you to visit him the following morning.

As the sun rose and birds chirped, you sprinted to his house with the latest music DVDs and horror movies that he missed out on. You knocked on the door as you barely contained your glee for seeing him.

The door opened. It was unlocked. And the smell of metal wafted to your nostrils. You peaked your head and opened the already ajar door.

And you screamed as blood was splattered in every corner.

But, that was years ago. No longer the dumb teenager you were, but yet it was still stained on your mind. The countless headliners for the news, the police interviews, the therapy sessions. You moved far away from that neighborhood but no matter where you go, the memories would still follow.

Although a murderer now, still on the loose which scared you to your core, you yearned for the nostalgic Jeffery. The one before the murders.

You placed the book of photos down, gingerly touching the photo where you and Jeffery clicked slushies together. It was over now though, that was the past.

That night as you laid to rest, you felt the cold breeze of the nightly wind under your sheets.

You also felt cold wet drops on your face as a hand slapped against your mouth before you could fully register what was happening.

A manic grin spread from ear to ear, scared red against deathly pale skin. Eyes a dull blue with dark eyebags. The hair was jet black and frayed in a shaggy like mullet.

His other hand held your arms in one grip as he started laughing.

"Oh, s/o, I finally found you." He cried out in-between bursts of laughter.

"But where the fuck were you when I needed you. Where were you when I told you I'd come to get you."

And your heart dropped as you mumbled through his fingers. "Jeffery, is that you...?"

"The one and only and STOP AVOIDING THE QUESTION. WHERE WERE YOU?" He begged out, his happiness dropped. "It was suppose to be just me and you. Just us against the world. I needed you to wait for me. But when I finally got my own footing, you left!"

"I fucking missed you. But now, " He shifted eagerly as he straddled your hips. "I'm myself. This is what I was meant to be, and can you even accept that?"

You look at him in shock, your whole body feels like it was dropped in freezing water. Your heart was in the dilemma of whether it's about to stop or keep beating as wildly as possible.

"I don't expect you to respond now. But you will answer me later, you whore." He leaned down and took his hand off your mouth. "I hate that I still like you even after you abondoned me."

His lips hovered over yours teasingly. "I fucking hate the fact you're still as beautiful as the day you left me. But now, you're staying with me." Despite his taunting demeanor, there is an act of urgency, desperation, in his next moves.

His lips connected to yours within seconds as you tried to squirm away. His hands still holding yours away from pushing him. His hand gripped your cheek as he pushed the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

And then you felt a foreign pill slip into your mouth as Jeff still kept the kiss connected, forcing you to swallow.

"Go to sleep." He breathes out, finally pulling away from your lips. You are hit with an unfamiliar urge to go unconscious. Your limbs feel unbearably heavy as your eyelids begin to close again. The last thing you see before your eyes shut is his insanely stretched out smile and his lovesick eyes glaring at you.

….

[Heyyy I’m alive guys. Work and school kicked my ass but I’m still here.]

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x darling #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta imagines #jeff the killer x reader #slenderman x reader

1K notes · View notes

goldenamaranthe-blog · 1 month

Text

Puppy Love 2: Fanfiction

Cherri: Hey, Fuckheads! (Waves her phone in the air) Didja see that someone's been writing cringy fanfiction about the hotel and its occupants?!

Angel: What?! No way! Send us a link to the page! I gotta see this!

Cherri: (puts the user link in the Hazbin group chat)

Angel: Whoa-ho-hoa! What's with some of these ships?! NifftyDust?! Who pairs me with Niffty?! They also got me with Pen's Egg Bois!

Niffty: Awwww, I was hoping it would be with that bad boy at the club! Oh! I'm in a polyship with the Vees!

Cherri: Ha! StaticRadio is another big one for this writer. Never would have thought Vox and Alastor would be a mutual pining.

Alastor: (glitches out) What did you say???? (Peers over Cherri's shoulder) Oh, Zestial and Carmine are a ship, and they also put me with Rosie. That's not so bad.

Cherri: (reading one of the three Explicit rated works) Even if Rosie is pegging you with her ex-husband's dick?

Alastor: (Wendigo screeches echo through the hotel)

Husker: Why am I the hotel slut????? This guy's got me paired with literally everyone in the hotel!!!

Charlie: ......Everyone?

Husker: Even you, Princess. (Slams a bottle of Everclear) I need to forget I ever read this.

Lucifer: WHO PAIRED ME WITH SERA?!?!?!?! Who the Unholy Hell is Carmilla Carmine?! I'm paired with her, too!!!

Cherri: Awwwww~ I'm mostly paired up with Pentious..... okay, there's one for Angel. (Shrugs) Eh... Not the worst, but still not my thing.

Charlie: They can't be that bad, right? (Checks the page) I'M PAIRED WITH LUTE AND EVE?!?!?!?!?!?! (Scrolls feverishly) I DON'T HAVE A SINGLE WORK WITH VAGGIE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Hazbins: (pause)

Angel: Wait a minute.... (scans through the ships) There ain't a single one of us paired with Vags.

Charlie: (plasters her face to Angel's) Who IS she paired with???

Angel: Some bitch named Emily? (Scrolls) Looks like about half of these fics are Vaggie and Emily.... With one rated E fic, too..... (Taps random fic) "Emily knew this could only end badly, but the way the fallen angel stared at her with a smoldering eye made her go weak at the knees. The two reached out and..." What the fuck??? (squints) "Passionately held hands"???

Charlie: (eyes bleed red as she scrolls up to the Author Name) Who's writing these?

Vaggie: (finally bothering to open the link and reads the page username) "Em-Emmie-E"

Charlie: (eye twitches, and she roars so loud that all of Pride can hear) EMILY!!!!!!!

-Meanwhile: In Heaven-

Emily: (watching Hell like it's the latest episode of Days of Our Lives and taking notes)

EMILY!!!!!!

Emily: (fumbles her notebook) Oh, peach crumble!

244 notes · View notes

mikaleialt · 6 months

Text

Secret Love Song

Bada Lee x Bebe!reader

Angst

"Why can't I hold you in the streets? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?"

Synopsis: being in a secret relationship is not easy, especially if you are hiding it to the whole world. — or — the heavy weight of the strained relationship you have with Bada has just become too overwhelming.

cw: major angst, mentions of breaking up, kinda toxic relationship,language, long ass story— i didn't count

When BeBe got invited by Mnet to compete for the second season Street Woman Fighter, all of us were ecstatic, especially our team leader and my girlfriend, Bada Lee.

I know just how much Bada wants to showcase each of her members talents to the whole world, and how important this is for her, especially for her career as a choreographer and dancer.

Before the day of the first filming, Bada and I had come to an agreement to keep our relationship in secret in order to keep a professional image in front of our opponents and to the viewers. I didn't mind it, its not like this the first time we are keeping our relationship a secret after all.

As a matter of fact, our relationship has always been kept private, as we are both professional dancers and choreographers, only a few close people knew about our relationship.

We kept our personal life separated from our work life which let us have a nice private and peaceful life as a couple, just in each others arms with no one trying to pry on our relationship or any personal matters.

Everything is perfect. Everything was perfect.

After the first episode had aired, Bada's popularity blossoms and soon had her own fan base. I was so proud that to see her grow in her career.

But as the team and Bada's popularity grew each day, the pressure to meet the people's expections also rises, and it had affect Bada the most.

After the Kpop Deathmatch Mission, Bada has pushed herself to be better, which means she also pushes the team to be better. She becomes more strict to us, but still kept her bubbly personality when it is appropriate to goof around.

But it all went down when we got the feedback of the other groups for the Mega Crew Mission. When we learned that all of our opponents predicted that our team will be the next to go home, Bada broked down into pieces. The negative feedback had causes her to lose her confident on herself and as her girlfriend, I tried to comfort her.

"Babe, don't mind what they said, they were probably doing this to messed us up, after all we won the last challenge right? We got this, okay? I believe in us." I tried to comfort the crying Bada on my lap that night and although it had seemed to work as Bada was now more determined to prove those people wrong about what they think about her and her team.

But, It just doesn't feel right at all, yes Bada have improved a lot and was now more motivated to do better, but the more she focuses on winning the challenges and mission, the more distant she becomes to me.

After that night, Bada never stopped talking about the routines she can think of for the upcoming missions and how it will be a new step for Bebe.

It was all that she talked about, to the point she even forgets that tonight is your anniversary night.

"...I'm thinking maybe Lusher or Tatter would be the center for the first part and then we will use the..." Bada kept mumbling about the dance choreo and other stuff related to the competition and as a great girlfriend, I tried to be understanding.

I really did try my best.

But it only gets worse from there, with Bada's fame grew more, people can't help but get attracted to her, which is understandable.

It was a typical fan behaviour, and I know that Bada has this charisma in her that just makes her more attractive. But, I drew the line when people starts shipping my girlfriend to other participants like Audrey or Kirsten, heck even Redy who used to have beef with Bada.

It was pathetic, I know. But the fact that Bada was becoming closer to Redy once again after the first battle made me feel insecure.

Maybe it was the additional stress from the already strained relationship I had with Bada that makes me more anxious and jealous when in reality it is just an fantasy fans and shippers had built to satisfy their delusions. But it is starting to get to me slowly and slowly.

And this night is the final straw...

Bada kept staying up late, busying herself with making choreos, too busy to even realize that I'm not even sleeping in the same bed, let alone the same room anymore as I had moved to the spare bedroom in our apartment a week ago.

And the fan edits of Bada with other girls and guys, occupy every single social media I have. Almost like it was taunting me.

I broke down that night. All the stress from the competition and my relationship with Bada is finally having an affect on me. That night I was restless, my eyes are puffy

The next day was Bebe's practice for the New Song Challenge, where we will be choreographing Hwasa's song 'Chile'.

There were cameras set up on the dance studio we were practicing on, documenting the progress of our team. Which also means that Bada and I won't be able to interact once again.

"Ok let's run that part one more time" Bada said as everyone went to their places and the song starts.

During the part of the hook where we are doing the '7' sign with our hands, I was at the wrong position making me bumped into Bada as we danced.

And my blood runs cold when I looked at the taller girl behind me who is glaring at me intensely. I mutter a quick sorry, to which she just ignored and replayed the part again.

I feel like breaking down once again. Everyone in the team Bebe noticed the red, puffy eyes that I tried to hide from the camera by wearing a hat, the dark cloud that looms over me at my sulken face. Everyone noticed that, except Bada.

"Y/n, go back to the first position!" I flinched when Bada raised her voice, she is obviously pissed off at me now.

I am trying so hard not to cry infront of the camera and my crew as I bit my lip hard enough for me to taste a bit of blood.

The practice continues as the tension between me and Bada thickens. Looks like the show found the highlighted drama they want for the next episode.

Once the practice was over and the cameras sre all turned off, I quickly made my way out of the room I was in, not even waiting for Bada as I made my way home, eventhough Bada drove the both of us here.

I stopped by a convenience store to buy an ice cream and some sour candies to shock my system and stop me from breaking down. Before making my way back to our apartment.

And just as I thought, Bada is already there, she has a car whilst I walked home for the most part, so it makes sense.

As soon as I stepped inside, Bada is sitting on the couch, her elbows are pressed on her knees, as her fingers are intertwined.

I can sense she is very angry, but I'm way too mentally and emotionally unstable for any confrontations as I walk passed her figure, attempting to go to my bedroom, which is the stupidest decision I ever think of since it just made Bada even more mad.

"Oh so now you're gonna ignore me? Gonna act like you didn't just walked out after practice and then going home late?" Bada glares at me as I stop on my tracks.

I stare back at her, but all I can see from her is how pissed she is. I can't even recognize her.

Just a few months ago, we were fine, we were happy. But now here we are, acting like we're not even in a relationship.

"Y/n!" I flinch again as Bada raises her voice once again, "What, are you just gonna stare at me like a deer in a headlights? Answer me goddamit? What is your problem? You are so off today, your performance is already way worse than before? Are you trying to sabotage the team—"

Bada's voice faded out in my mind, all I can think of is how we used to be. This is totally different from the secret relationship we had when we are at work.

Bada has become way to obsessed with the competition that I don't she recognize my role in her life anymore. I think she already forgot that I'm her girlfriend, all because of how often we restrain ourselves from showing affection in public.

A lone tear runs down my face as Bada keeps on rambling and nagging me about my performance today.

"Stop fucking crying and answer me. What is your problem—"

"MY FUCKING PROBLEM IS THAT YOU DON'T EVEN TREAT ME LIKE YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!"

Bada was shocked from my tone and by my answer. She stayed silent, feeling nervous as this is the first I got angry this bad.

"Eversince we kept our kept our relationship a secret from the whole world, you continued the act even when it's just the two of us." Fat tears are now rolling down my cheeks as my legs started to feel weak.

"I'm so sick and tired of hiding everything. I just want to be held by you in public. I mean you did it with Redy, heck you even kissed Kirsten on the cheek after you were both auditioned for the main dancer title on the first mission, why can't you do it to me?" My legs finally give out as I sat on the floor while Bada stood next to me.

"How can you flirt and be affectionate to everyone but your own girlfriend? Am I still even your girlfriend?" I looked up to her as Bada now have a hint of regret on her face.

Bada can't talk back, she was in deep thought as her mind fills with regrets.

"You forgot our anniversary last week, you talk about me leaving you behind earlier while you left me behind on everything you do. You are so obsessed with the competition that you pushed me and our relationship out from your thoughts. Honestly by now I'm justing waiting for you to break up with me." Bada's felt a pang on her chest as she kneels down next to me and hugged me, I let her but I didn't hug her back.

"I just want to stop hiding anymore..." my tone is much more softer now as I hear Bada's sobs. "You even forgot that today’s my birthday..." I tear up again as Bada starts muttering her apologies.

We both cry in silence, as we finally realize how much damage hiding did to our relationship.

"I'm sorry... It hurts me too when I can't hold you in front of many people. I'm sorry I didn't know how much I hurt you until now... I-It was stupid of me." Bada looks in to my eyes as she says those words.

"I'm sorry I forgot about you...I-" Bada chokes on her tears as she just squeeze my hands.

"I wanna get back from all I did the past few months since the competition... please give me a chance... I-I will be better." Bada looks at me desperately.

"Bada, what I want is for to us to stop hiding anymore..." I cup her cheeks. Bada contemplates at the mention of going public and it was very evident at the sudden change in her expression.

My heart breaks even more when I saw that Bada is having second-thoughts about my request.

"...so that's your answer, huh?" I sighed as I tried to stand up once again and walk to my bedroom. “Why is it so hard for you to tell the world that I’m yours?” I said before closing the door. Bada stumbles on her feet as she tries to follow me but I locked the door before she can even enter.

I broke down once again, seeing as there's no hope that Bada will ever agree to making our relationship public...

A/n: this is honestly really weird, I might revised it later but there might be a part two for this... I'm just too tired to finish it right now. Also, here you go, @badasgirlfriend ... anyway hope you enjoyed this—even if it's a bit trashy and incomplete

Requests are open

#Spotify #secret love song au #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada x reader #lee bada x reader #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 x reader #bebe #street woman fighter 2 #swf

432 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

i’ve never heard anyone talk about this but there’s an episode of cm where the bau has to turn around on the jet and aaron says “i’ll inform the pilot” sooooooooooo i’m feeling pilot!reader who’s super confident and always flirts with him PLEASE

disclaimer: i don't fly planes i don't know the process of rerouting mid-flight but i tried my darndest

It's not every day that a case is solved before the BAU even land, but this unsub wasn't as smart as everyone thought he would be. He'd revisited his third crime scene just in time for the police to show up, and he won't be getting out of prison anytime soon.

Derek lets out a scoff of a laugh at the man's idiocy, already reaching for his headphones, "I guess we've got our weekend after all. Prentiss, you ever gonna tell me what sin to win means?"

Aaron stands as Emily narrows her eyes at Derek, a smirk curling over her lips, "There are some questions, Morgan, that if you have to ask, it means you probably couldn't handle the answer."

Before Derek can fire back Hotch heads for the curtain, "Alright, you two. That's enough. I'm going to go tell the pilot we can turn around. They'll need to reroute us."

There's a hum of acknowledgement that circles the jet, and Aaron passes through the snack station, rapping his knuckles gently on the door to the cockpit.

A green light flashes over the doorframe and a bell chimes, the door unlocking automatically with the press of a button inside.

"Y/N," Aaron greets you, on a first-name basis from calling you to work alone. He tries joking, something he forgets to do sometimes at work, "Just kidding. We're headed back to Virginia, can you pull a u-turn in an airplane?"

You turn to grin at him, face peeking out from the side of the headrest, "What, you forget your toothbrush?"

He's glad his joke went over well, and he laughs at your own, a smile gracing his features, "They don't need us anymore. Are you able to reroute us mid-air? Or will we have to land first?"

"If there's not much air traffic we can turn," You hum, peering at diagrams and screens that Aaron doesn't understand, "But if it's busy we'll just have to land and set up another flight path."

"Understood," He nods, checking his phone that looks comically small in his large hands, "When will you know?"

"Right," You hum, analyzing the display in front of you, and checking a note you've made for yourself on a sticky note that's stuck to your seat, "Now. I think we can make it without landing, but we'll have to wait for a commercial flight to pass. Shouldn't take longer than 20 minutes to turn, then an hour to get back."

"Thank you," Aaron heaves a relieved sigh, thankful not to have to waste more time than they already have, "You're a lifesaver. I owe you one, really."

"Breakfast in bed," You decide, your shit-eating grin only widening, "Hey, next time you're on a case, we'll share a hotel room. That'll make it easy for you."

Aaron doesn't know exactly how to respond to such a bold statement. He's bold himself, but not with flirting. He feels his cheeks heat up and prays you can't see it, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he calculates his response.

"Pancakes or waffles?"

"Waffles," You laugh, "And whipped cream."

"Mm, okay," Aaron pretends to deliberate, headed back to the doorway, "Over the top, or on the side?"

"It's not for the waffles," You chime, and Aaron is infinitely glad you're turned around again to face the display in front of you, because it means you don't see him trip over the base of the doorway, "Why else do you think we're sharing a room, Hotchner?"

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

kazumist · 2 months

Text

EPISODE 28 ✿ WHY WOULDN'T I MISS YOU?

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 682.

you didn’t know how or why, but somehow, your feet brought you to the same place you and diluc last spoke before he graduated. the night air was cold yet also relaxing for someone like you, who has a lot on their mind.

“hey,” you hear an all too familiar voice behind you. even after all these years, your hearing knows exactly what he sounds like.

“what are you doing here?”

if you could use two words to describe your situation right now, it would be fucking awkward. what are you even supposed to do? the man you loved when you were seventeen is suddenly back, like nothing happened (then again, nothing really happened between the two of you). do you say hi? do you ask him how he’s been for the past seven years?

do you walk away again, just like that day?

“... how are you lately?” hesitation leaks from his tone.

“fine. you?”

“i’ve been well.”

can this get any worse? it’s just so awkward—you might as well crawl into a hole and die rather than face your (greatest love) stupid first love from back then.

“i… i read your email.” shit. you’re probably going to regret saying that.

“oh? i’m glad.”

seven years. seven years since you both lost contact. seven years ever since diluc ragnvindr crashed into your life. seven years, ever since you two were just having your own fun in the library (though the nostalgia makes it feel like it only happened yesterday).

it has been seven years since you fell in love with him.

you nodded to him, avoiding eye contact. “i was… quite hesitant to open it back then, really. and once i’ve read it, i had no idea what to feel. was i supposed to feel ecstatic because my feelings were actually reciprocated? or was i supposed to hate you because you made me believe in love yet you didn’t even bother trying out long distance?” you said, sighing. “i really did love you, you know. i may have been seventeen and a tad bit dumb, but i knew enough that my feelings were real.”

“because you will always be my first love.”

it was silent for a moment. “cliche, isn’t it?” you chuckled weakly. why are you even telling him all of this? what a way to let him know that you never really moved on after all this time.

“no, it isn’t cliche,” diluc hesitantly replies.

“really? how so?”

“because.. i marked your email as one of my favorites so that whenever i was missing you, i’d read it” he replies.

your head perked up when you heard that, and your eyes immediately met his. “you… missed me?”

“why wouldn’t i miss you?”

“i… i thought you found someone else when you moved… i thought you forgot about me—about everything—and had some sort of life restart abroad,” you stammered. diluc takes a step towards you as your mind starts replaying that day again.

a hand travels to your cheek, cupping it ever so gently. he’s scared to lay a hand on you again. but for diluc, he thinks he might not get any opportunity like this ever again. his thumb grazes over your cheekbone slightly, minding his actions and making sure they don’t make you uncomfortable. and then he whispers:

“do you think that i could ever forget you?” his eyes don’t leave yours even for a second. “do you think that i would allow myself to be happy with someone else? when i have clearly promised you that i will come back for you?”

“after seven long years, (name), you’re still the one my heart calls for, and i don’t think that fact will ever change.”

“are you sure?” you asked him back in a whisper.

“positively.”

fuck it.

you pulled him in for a kiss. it was gentle and slow as your hands traveled to his nape and pulled him closer. diluc’s hands placed themselves on your waist, and you could feel your heart beating hard.

and just as diluc hoped, you did welcome him back with open arms.

extra notes.

reader is kinda marupok but hey thats diluc

not very girlboss but youll see a male lead the reader chasing soon in someone else's story <3

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]

#( smau — you + me = love ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin smau #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smau #diluc #x reader

187 notes · View notes

softtdaisy · 11 months

Note

hellu lando with it's okay, just breathe.

I LOVE your writing, you deserve all the celebration love!

Pairing: Lando Norris x female!reader

Words: 1020

A/n: the fact i went over 1k words for a story i don’t feel confident about is crazy. I really hope you will like it, i’ve never write about Lando before so it’s a first try

Dating Lando was like living in a new sitcom episode every single day. Even when he was away for the championship and you couldn’t travel with him, he found a way to make your day better. A call, a message, the stupidest joke ever or the cutest proof of love.

There were some bad days, of course. But somehow, the sun always seemed to shine even in the darkest sky.

You could write a whole book about your boyfriend.

You really considered doing it these past days. Being away from him for too long was getting harder for you. It was really like missing a half of yourself when he was in another country or, worse, in another continent. No amount of calls was making for the lack of waking up with him by your side.

“You realize that one day you’re going to deal with me every day for the rest of your life? Shouldn’t you enjoy your free time while you can?” he told you on the phone after you admitted being sad about him leaving early for Canada. He hasn’t even been home since Spain and he was already leaving.

“Well right now, I miss you, idiot.”

“Well I miss you too, dummy.”

It was probably one of the quickest decisions you’ve ever made. After waking up again feeling alone and sad without the man you loved, you booked a flight for Montréal during the afternoon to see him. You didn’t even tell anyone, except for Max, Lando’s best friend, to make sure at least one person would be aware of your trip. You wanted to surprise your boyfriend.

You had no idea that this would become one of the most stressful days for him.

When Lando woke up on the other side of the world, you were already up in the air. He didn’t question why you weren’t answering his texts. He knew that when you were working, you tended to be so focused that you forget about the world around you. He also knew that he could call you if he was worried because that was the only thing that would make you pick up your phone.

Somehow, Lando felt like something was off. He could put his finger on what.

If he was a fan of media duties, he couldn’t focus on anything today. His laugh sounded fake, he wasn’t smiling as much. “If something is wrong, you can tell me.” Oscar reassured him after he had to handle every interview that morning.

But he didn’t say anything. Lando wasn’t the kind to cry on anyone’s shoulder for nothing. He didn’t want to bother his teammate for just a feeling.

Then it became more than a feeling when he still couldn’t reach you.

You were supposed to be home. Or heading home. Anyway, you would have answered Lando’s texts already. But you didn’t.

He tried to call you. But you didn’t answer.

He asked Carlos to call you too, knowing he was one of the few drivers to have your number. But you didn’t answer either.

“Something wrong?” Carlos asked him but he refused to say anything. If he kept it to himself, it wouldn’t be real, right?

So Lando did the worst thing he could have done, he knew that. He went to the practices with fear and stress. He couldn’t think about the race or the cars or his whole career. Fuck that. All he cared about was you. He did so many mistakes he couldn’t even imagine the number of comments on social media about him being done or whatever these stupid opinions were saying. The team was already giving him a hard time on the radio.

When Lando got out of the car, he felt like he saw a ghost. Expect it wasn’t one.

It was you. Standing in the middle of the garage.

It took him a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t dreaming, that it wasn’t his mind giving him what he wanted to see. You were here. For real. Not home. But here with him.

Lando then ran to you and took you in his arms. “Oh wow I didn’t expect that to be so welcoming.” you laughed in his ears. Knowing him, you were convinced he would make a joke about you being here at the same time as his mistress. Or that you should take a shower, when he was the one dirty after racing.

Not that he would hug you that tight. You felt him bringing him to his room and you followed him, quite perplexed on why he was reacting like that.

It wasn’t until you were alone that you noticed he was shivering against you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you asked him, moving your head to see his sad face. You barely ever saw him being that miserable around you.

“You’re here…” he replied, breathless. You took his face between your hands.

“it's okay, just breathe,” you put your forehead against his and felt him relaxed slowly.

“You didn’t answer me and I thought something had happened. I couldn’t call you, I couldn’t reach you and I thought you were… I can’t imagine my life without you!”

“I’m not planning on leaving you.” you replied with a sweet smile, giving him a soft kiss on his lips. Lando always said that your lips had some calming power. And he wasn’t wrong. You could feel relaxed after that, like it was the proof he needed to be sure you were really here.

You spent some long minutes together in the silence. Now that he was accepting that nothing had happened to you and that you were here, for real, he was enjoying your presence. You gave him small kisses in the hair, the one he loved when he had a terrible weekend. It felt quite the same for once.

“I’m taking notes that you don’t like surprises.” you whispered in his hair.

“Not the one where I think I’m losing the love of my life, dummy.”

“Love of my life and dummy in the same sentence? What a pretty love language, Norris.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris story #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris angst #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #f1 fanfic #f1 angst #f1 story #f1 imagine #f1 #my writing

555 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 9 months

Text

Wedding Day Blues.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - i was watching ‘Sam and Billie the mummy diaries’ and it was the wedding episode so i decided to write something wedding inspired. 🤷‍♀️

word count - 2.4k

in which, it’s your and your fiancés wedding day, getting married in the garden of your shared italian villa, surrounded by your close friends and loved ones, but you can’t help but let the nerves get to you.

Today was meant to be a day that you will never forget.

You and your fiancé had been engaged for a total of two years and today was the day the two of you would be tying the knot.

As you stand in the guest bedroom of your enchanting Italian villa, the soft morning sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow on the elegantly adorned room. The walls, painted in serene pastel hues, echo the timeless romance that fills the air on this momentous day. The delicate lace curtains sway gently, as if whispering secrets of love and anticipation.

Gazing outside, your heart swells with emotion as you witness the scene unfolding before you. The garden, a verdant paradise, is transformed into a sanctuary of love and celebration. Rows of pristine white chairs are meticulously arranged, each one a seat for a cherished guest, their faces alive with joy and excitement.

Your eyes are drawn to the majestic archway adorned with intertwined blooms and foliage, an emblem of unity and devotion. Beneath it, you and your beloved will stand, surrounded by the fragrant embrace of nature, ready to exchange vows that will bind your hearts eternally.

In the midst of this exquisite scene, workers bustle with quiet dedication, ensuring that every detail is perfect. The flowers, vibrant and fragrant, are arranged flawlessly. The soft, melodic hum of their preparations blends harmoniously with the rustling leaves and distant chirping of birds, creating a symphony of anticipation.

As you stand there, dressed in a gown that embodies your dreams and adorned with the promise of forever.

The dress was flowy, white and the bodice was designed with flowers, your hair was curled and in a bun.

A sense of profound gratitude washes over you. The villa, the garden, the archway—all bear witness to the love that has blossomed and grown, leading you to this magical moment. And as the day unfolds, you know that this chapter of your journey will be etched in your hearts and memories, a testament to the beauty of love and the artistry of life.

As you watch from the window, a rush of emotions courses through you as you see your fiancé, Harry, take his place at the altar. His presence is commanding, yet his eyes hold a vulnerability that speaks to the depth of your connection. The weight of the moment presses against your chest, and your hands tremble uncontrollably.

Nerves begin to tighten their grip, a tide of anxiety that threatens to overwhelm you. You realise you need to step away from the window, away from prying eyes, to find solace in the privacy of your own thoughts. Slowly, you retreat from the view, your heart racing as you navigate the room.

Sinking onto the edge of the bed, you try to steady your breathing, but the panic has taken hold. Your breath comes in shallow gasps, and your vision blurs as the world around you becomes a blur of colours and shapes. It's as if the weight of the moment, the culmination of so many dreams and hopes, has become too much to bear all at once.

In the midst of this overwhelming rush of sensations, you clutch at the sheets beneath your fingers, seeking an anchor amidst the storm. Your mind races, thoughts colliding, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You close your eyes, trying to regain control, to remind yourself that this moment is a celebration of love, a union of two souls meant to be together.

As you sit on the edge of the bed, lost in the grip of your panic attack, you're startled by a gentle knock on the door. Your father's voice, warm and familiar, floats through the air, breaking through the fog of your distress.

"Hey darling, are you almost ready? It's almost time."

However, in the midst of your overwhelming emotions, the sound of his knock doesn't register. You remain caught in the clutches of your anxiety, your breathing erratic, your hands trembling. Your father, sensing that something might be amiss, quietly enters the room.

As he approaches you, concern etches his face. He takes in the sight of you, shaken and struggling to catch your breath.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks softly, his voice a soothing balm against the storm that rages within you. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer comfort.

You try to respond, to explain the torrent of feelings that has engulfed you, but your words are caught in your throat. Tears gather in your eyes, and you find it difficult to meet his gaze. His presence, though, is a lifeline, a reminder of the love and support that surrounds you.

Your father's touch is steady and unwavering as he continues to reassure you.

"It's okay, my love. Just take a deep breath with me." His voice is a lifeline, guiding you through the storm with every word.

He encourages you to focus on your breath, guiding you in inhaling and exhaling, the rhythm slowly helping to ground you. His calming presence, his unwavering love, begins to chip away at the edges of your panic, offering a glimmer of relief.

As the waves of panic slowly recede, you manage to find your voice, your trembling words breaking through the lingering unease.

"I want Harry," you mutter, the simple desire a beacon of clarity amidst the emotional tumult.

Your father's eyes soften with understanding, and he nods in response, a silent affirmation of your wishes. With a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder, he offers a comforting smile. "Of course, my dear. I'll be right back."

He steps away from you, leaving a sense of warmth and reassurance in his wake. The space around you is filled with a mixture of anticipation and a newfound sense of serenity. You watch as he leaves the room, his footsteps fading down the corridor, a promise that he'll bring the one who can anchor you most in this moment of vulnerability.

Harry stands at the altar, a black tuxedo, with a frilly colour and a long, thin black tie, matching trousers and some heeled chelsea boots on his feet, the embodiment of nerves and excitement, his heart racing as he waits for the moment you'll appear. His gaze sweeps over the rows of seated guests, their faces illuminated by the soft golden light of the sun. The garden around him is alive with anticipation, each petal and leaf whispering of the love that's about to unfold.

But as he scans the garden, his eyes seeking the vision of you he's held in his heart, a flicker of concern crosses his features. You're nowhere to be seen, and his brow furrows with worry. His gaze narrows, hoping for a glimpse of your familiar figure emerging from the villa, but the seconds stretch on, and you remain absent.

Confusion deepens into concern as he tilts his head, trying to discern any sign of what might be amiss. His heart beats faster, the rhythm of the moment disrupted by the absence of the one he's been waiting for. Just as worry begins to tighten its grip, he notices your father approaching him, a determined expression on his face.

"Harry," your father says, his voice steady, though laced with urgency. "I need to talk to you for a moment."

He offers a reassuring smile, his eyes holding a mix of empathy and understanding.

Harry's heart skips a beat, his apprehension growing as he steps forward to meet your father.

"Is everything alright?" he asks, his voice carrying the weight of concern.

Your father takes a deep breath before speaking, his tone measured and calm. "There's been a little hiccup with (Y/N). She's inside the villa, and she needs a moment."

A rush of emotions sweeps over Harry as reality sinks in. He nods in understanding, his thoughts racing. "Is she okay?"

Your father's eyes soften, and he places a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "She's with us. Just needed a moment to gather herself. I wanted to let you know."

Without another word, Harry turns on his heels and rushes back down the aisle toward the villa. He moves with an urgency fueled by love and concern, his heart pounding in his chest.

Time seems to stretch as you wait, the air pregnant with anticipation. In the distance, the sounds of laughter and murmured conversations from the garden drift through the window, a reminder of the celebration that awaits. And then, as if a gentle whisper of destiny, the door opens once again.

And there he is—Harry, your anchor, your rock, your source of solace. His presence fills the room, a magnetic force that draws you closer to him. As his eyes meet yours, you see an understanding there, a connection that transcends words.

In that instant, all the swirling worries and fears seem to melt away, replaced by a sense of security that only his presence can provide. He barely spares a glance at your dress, as if deliberately averting his gaze to maintain the element of surprise.

Without hesitation, Harry crosses the room, his movements fueled by a sense of urgency to be by your side. He crouches down in front of you, his fingers gently finding yours, his touch a lifeline as he holds your trembling hands. His eyes search your face, his concern etched in his expression.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice a tender murmur that seems to fill the room. "What's wrong? Talk t’me."

You draw in a shaky breath, feeling the safety of his presence as you begin to voice the jumbled thoughts that have been plaguing your mind.

"I'm really nervous, H," you admit, your words a vulnerable confession of your inner turmoil.

Harry's grip on your hands tightens, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

"It's okay t’be nervous, m’honey," he reassures you, his gaze unwavering. "But we're in this together. Y’and me, right?"

A tear escapes your eye, and you nod, your voice barely a whisper. "I know, but... I want to make sure you're making the right decision by marrying me. I don't want you to regret it."

Harry's brow furrows slightly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of understanding and determination.

"Listen t’me," he says firmly, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that leaves no room for doubt. "There's no one else, (Y/N), baby You're the only one I want, the only one I've ever wanted."

The weight of his words settles over you like a warm embrace, filling the space around you with a sense of profound clarity. In his gaze, you see a reflection of the love that has brought you to this moment, a love that is steadfast and unwavering.

With a tender smile, Harry reaches up to wipe away the tear that has fallen from your eye. "I'm here because I want t’be, because I choose y’every single day. We're a team, and we're on this journey together."

As you hold Harry's gaze, your heart swells with emotion, the words you're about to speak carrying the weight of vulnerability.

"Harry, I'm not like everyone else you've dated," you begin, your voice soft yet resolute. "I'm not a model, I'm not famous, I'm just... average."

The sincerity in your words hangs in the air, a testament to your own insecurities, a fear that you might not measure up to the glamorous lives he's been a part of. But before you can say more, Harry interrupts you, his voice gentle yet firm. "Hey, don't say that."

His fingers find yours, his touch grounding you in the moment. The look in his eyes is earnest, a reflection of his genuine emotions. "You're not just 'average',your (Y/N). Y’unique, y’beautiful, and y’perfect just the way y’are. Y’don't have t’be like anyone else. That's not why I love you."

The weight of his words washes over you, a tide of reassurance that erases the doubts you've been carrying. His sincerity wraps around you like a warm embrace, pushing away the shadows of comparison and self-doubt. In this moment, you understand that Harry's love transcends the surface and superficial, and that his feelings for you run deep.

He lifts your chin gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he gazes into your eyes. "Y’are not defined by anyone else's standards. Y’not just a sum of y’parts. Y’you, and that's all I ever wanted."

As Harry continues to hold your hands, his fingers gently intertwined with yours, his observant gaze catches the subtle tremble that still lingers in your fingers.

A hint of concern flickers in his eyes, and he offers a tender smile, his voice a soothing balm. "Y’know, there's an idea that just crossed m’mind."

You meet his gaze, curious and attentive, eager to hear what he's thinking.

"What is it?" you ask, your voice a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

His smile widens, and his words are spoken with a warmth that radiates through the room. "What if... what if we walked down the aisle together?"

The suggestion hangs in the air, its simplicity carrying a depth of understanding that resonates with you. The idea of facing the nervousness together, as a team, is both comforting and intriguing. You take a moment to consider it, letting the concept settle within your heart.

"Walk down the aisle together?" you repeat, your thoughts taking shape. "You mean, like, side by side?"

Harry nods, his gaze unwavering, his expression filled with unwavering support. "Yeah, that way y’won't have t’feel nervous. We'll face whatever comes together."

His words echo the sentiment you've come to cherish—the idea of partnership, of sharing the journey, of supporting one another through challenges. You let his suggestion sink in, and a sense of relief begins to replace the lingering apprehension.

After a beat, you smile, your heart lighter than it's been in moments. "Yeah, that would make me feel a lot better."

Harry's eyes light up, his smile mirroring your own as he uses one hand to your hand gently and uses his free hand to wipe under your eyes, making sure your mascara didn’t smudge. "Good. It's settled then. We'll walk down that aisle together, facing whatever comes hand in hand."

His words are a promise, a reassurance that even in the face of nervousness and uncertainty, you'll find strength in each other's presence. As you lock eyes with Harry, you're reminded once again of the power of love, the connection that can ease even the most anxious of hearts.

470 notes · View notes

fantasticallyfruity4 · 1 year

Text

Famous Eddie decides to start a podcast. The music career rlly slowed down, the guys are all living comfortably on 30 years of roaring success these days to only play festivals for fun and tour if they feel like it. (Jeff even started acting. Who would have guessed it).

This little podcast of his is pretty all over the place. He doesn’t even market it as anything, just him and his family & friends talking shit.

Of corse it’s his and Steve’s podcast. Because they do everything together.

Dustin is a very very regular guest. Probably 9/10th of every episode. He’s fucking Dustin you know? And oh my god are the three of them fucking hilarious.

The rest of the party often makes appearances.

Max and Dustin screaming at each other about the exact details of what song was playing at a hopper-byers family Chanukah part the first time will and Mike kissed, lunging across the table about it while el just has the most wide eyed slacked jawed smile in the corner and Eddie is laughing his heart out, clinging to Steve’s shoulder just mumbling “babe, babe, babe this is- this isn’t happening” while Steve grins and is like “you two have not grown up since I met you in ‘85. You’re fucking unreal”

(It was hounds of love, by the way. Max was right. And she knows this because Kate Bush is the best song writer and singer ever, Dustin. The viewers don’t have to know why Steve’s face dropped for a moment before he agreed vehement. They (El) called Will while on air to ask, and he needed about two minutes to stop laughing before he said “yeah it was hounds of love, duh. That was the year Max got us all hooked on Kate Bush, don’t tell me you somehow forgot that Dustin” “buddy thousands of dollars of therapy and I still can’t forget it”)

There was a few episodes of a hellfire club reunited D&D game, which is of corse also wildly hilarious because it’s this super famous rock band and then Mike and Dustin and Lucas and Will who are just some guys- while the girls™ + Jonathan, Steve and argyle spectate and commentate.

They tried ASMR once. Just Steve and Eddie. It was a disaster.

They got high with Argyle and Jonathan on one episode and that was just… fascinating conversation.

Robins frequent appearances are just so pure and amazing because Steve never laughs as much as he does with ‘Robbie’. She knows exactly how to wind him up.

They’ve played the most volatile game of Uno with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Argyle.

They had a little Christmas special with Wayne and Hopper and Joyce. The parents edition. It was very very sweet.

I have so many ideas for this.

They literally talk about anything and everything and do the dumbest shit on mic and camera.

#steddie #future steddie #I want them to live the longest happiest healthiest lives

1K notes · View notes

gg-pedro · 3 months

Text

can you hear the music (ch. 3) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano and find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 3: today, it would be sarah's 34th birthday. but today, tomorrow, and every other day, joel needs you.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, implied age gap, smoochin', gropin', mentions of death, joel grieves, joel sings, arguing/fighting (kinda), mental health discussions, lewdness, angst, heavy feelings (and there's more where that come from!)

words: 3.4k

a/n: man. can u tell I rewatched episode 1? i’m proud of this one. also, I hope this reaches my fleetwood mac lovers.

Joel, while in the middle of hauling a bag of horse feed over his good shoulder (and ‘good’ was being generous), realized he was getting old. This was the tenth revelation of the day, give or take. From when he forced himself out of bed onto aching joints, to when he hadn’t heard Ellie come up behind him in the kitchen, and most notably, to when he realized Sarah’s 34th birthday would’ve been today.

It didn’t sting anymore. Not after this long, not after 20 years. It didn’t even hurt.

It just ached.

He sloughed the feed into the trough, stepping back to catch his breath. He glided his hand over the pretty little mare that he usually took out. She seemed too small to not be a pony, but hey, equine standards had flown out the window 20 years ago along with everything else.

Tommy knew, too. He never forgot. Maybe that's why he patted Joel on the back at breakfast that morning and told him to go ‘take a ride’. Clear his head. They still had work to do today. The Earth never stopped spinning. Joel thought that by now, it should’ve.

To be fair, the date could’ve been a little off, but the air was that same lukewarm cold and the sun shone blinding in a clear blue sky the same way it did on the day Sarah was born. Winter was melting into a tepid spring in Wyoming, and Joel was still here to fucking see it.

For a second he wondered if his vision was going, too, having to do a double-take when he noticed you leaning against the wooden beam of the stall entrance.

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Y’ever heard of knocking?”

You rolled your eyes. “Must’ve missed the door.”

“How’d you find me?” He asked, finally turning to really look at you. Irritatingly beautiful.

“Ellie,” you answered. “Said you were going for a joy ride.”

He sighed, coming over to wrap his arms just below the dip of your spine. “Kid couldn’t keep a secret if her fuckin’ life depended on it,” he grumbled, pausing afterwards to give you a slow kiss.

“I like the honesty. She’s got nothing to hide, especially if it has anything to do with you.” You grinned and fell right into his little ploy.

“Mmh. Lucky me.”

He had you backed against the wooden railing in an instant, his hand creeping up below your shirt and onto the soft skin of your waist. The touch raised goosebumps all over your body. You placed two hands on either side of his neck, gently, enjoying the way he was feeling you up with his lips glued to yours.

“Now? Right here?” You asked once you had the chance to break away from his mouth. “A little risky, Miller. Don’t forget, I’m still your worst kept secret,” you chided.

“No, not right here. And fuck you.” He pulled away until all but one hand was still stroking your side through your shirt.

“Likewise.”

And Joel loved you. Maybe not in the same way he loved Tommy or Ellie or Sarah, but still, he did. He loved your smart mouth, the way you blazed like a fire in bed with him, your natural talent, the way you made it all ache less.

And you did– make it ache less. That was reason enough.

He gestured to the horse that was a few feet away, still eating its breakfast. “You wanna join?”

“Can’t say no,” you said. “What’s the occasion? I thought they were strict about leaving for non-essential reasons.”

Joel was looking at you until he wasn’t, his gaze going right through you. He could tell you. He knew he could. You knew about his daughter and you still never brought it up. You’d lost people too, he knew that. He could tell you and you would bring him into your arms and say something like, I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m here. I’m here if you need me.

He would tell you. But not today.

He shrugged and pressed a kiss into your hairline. “Just another day. I want you to come.”

“Alright, then.” You nodded towards the guitar sitting in the corner of the stall. Dark stained wood around the edges fading into a lighter mahogany. It was beautiful. “Bringing that, too?”

“Yeah, why not. Here, let me help.” He grabbed it and lifted it over your head, situating it so that the body of the guitar was resting against your back. “You ever played?”

You shook your head. “No. Good thing you do.”

He brought the horse out into the open, making sure he still had everything important– a gun in his pocket and a broken watch on his wrist. He helped you up onto the saddle, sitting behind him and flush with his back.

Outside the walls, It was a beautiful day. The sun had melted away the heavy snow on the peaks of the rolling hills, the first kiss of spring. New life, grass that had started to green. You had your arms wrapped tightly around Joel’s middle, face pressed against the back of his shoulder. The fields seemed boundless. You hadn’t realized just how infinitesimally small your world had grown since being in Jackson.

“Are there usually infected around here?” You asked.

“Not really. The valley helps. We’ll stay out in the open, don’t worry, baby.”

You didn’t even have to ask. The little tour he was giving you around the east end of the fields was mostly an effort to case the surrounding area, his senses on high alert for anything dangerous. The truth was, this place was secure. Still, Joel would move mountains to keep you safe. Would do anything. He’d made mistakes in the past that he wouldn’t let happen again. Couldn’t.

After a loop around the outer wall, riding with a mixture of the horse's friendly canter and Joel intentionally speeding her up to scare the shit out of you and make you hold on tighter to him, he settled on a plateau at the top of a hill, a few steps away from the thick evergreen forest.

After helping you off the mare and spreading out the woven blanket he had rolled up on the back of the saddle, Joel sat down with a heavy sigh. You tied the lead to a low tree branch where the horse seemed content to roam. After, you pulled the guitar over your head and handed it to him.

It was still early in the day, and the sun was barely cresting over the hilltops from this view. 10:42 AM. That’s when his daughter was born. He looked down at the broken face of his watch out of habit, even though the thing had been broken for years at this point.

You dropped down next to him and your head immediately connected with his shoulder. Looking over at him, his eyes were far away and glassy. “What’re you thinking about?”

Joel shook his head and pressed a slow kiss into your forehead. “Nothin’. Just wondering what I should play.” He brought the guitar into his lap and strummed it a little, pausing to tune the top string down half a step. “Feel like I gotta impress you.”

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “You don’t have to. Who’d you used to listen to?”

“Oh, Jesus…” he had sort of let go of the fond memories he had of old music. With you, though, he was starting to miss it. “Some Zeppelin, some Billy Joel, Pearl Jam… Nirvana was just gettin’ good, too. Lots of Chet Atkins when I was younger.”

You just smiled, moving your hand to stroke his knee. “None of that surprises me.”

“You like Fleetwood Mac?” he asked after a while. “Stevie Nicks, always one of my favorites. My daughter’s, too.”

Your heart hurt a little at that. Joel had never brought up the daughter he’d lost with you. You kissed his shoulder as he started picking the strings to the tune of Landslide, that gentle back and forth that you hadn’t heard in more than 20 years.

“That's a good one, baby.”

You still remembered the lyrics. He did, too.

I took my love, I took it down

I climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills,

‘Til the landslide brought me down

Joel’s playing wasn’t perfect. He’d picked the guitar up again a few times in the last couple weeks, but before that, it had been a lifetime ago. On that radio station in Austin, The Best Of The ‘70’s, this one would come on all the time. Sarah would grin and sing her best rendition, as loudly as possible, always egging Joel on to join in too. Sometimes he would, but not always. He regretted that.

He thought your voice was beautiful. Clear and bright. His voice was probably an octave below yours, gravelly and out of practice. The two of you mixed together like honey into whiskey.

Oh, mirror in the sky,

What is love?

Can the child in my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

He would’ve liked to scoff at that. There's nothing to do but handle it. Push forward and deal. He didn’t die on September 26th, 2003, despite his best efforts and no matter how much he wanted to. He was here with you. Singing with you, laughing through the verses, watching the sun light up your eyes. And for that? A part of him had to consider himself a lucky son of a bitch.

He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to make a life with you. The extent to which he could see that to fruition, he wasn’t sure. Everything was uncertain. He didn’t even deserve it. Nothing he had done over the past 20 years was worthy of you. But fuck, he could be good. If he tried, maybe, he could be good for you. And trying? It’d be worth it.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’

‘Cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I’m getting older, too

Joel had to stop singing. Tears were swelling in his dark brown eyes and one wrong move would break the entire dam of emotions. He kept playing, though, into the second chorus, happy to listen to you.

Well, I’ve been afraid of–

“Joel?”

You turned away from the landscape to look at his face. Tears were streaking his cheeks, his eyes staring straight ahead of him. You didn’t say anything– you took the guitar out of his arms and brought him into yours instead. You rubbed slow circles into his flannel-clad back, holding him tight as his shoulders sagged and shuddered with every shaky inhalation.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry," he managed to say.

“It’s okay, Joel. You’re okay. It’s just me, you know I don’t mind. I got you, come on, just get it out.”

You had your own guesses as to what was getting to him so bad. You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t pry. He wouldn’t tell you like that, anyway. He had to do it himself.

After a few pregnant moments passed with the two of you like that, his breathing finally evened out enough for him to speak clearly. He pulled away from you, taking your face into his hands so you couldn’t look away. His eyes were reddened and puffy, his cheeks wet.

“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. D’you understand that? Nothin’. I’m gonna take care of you. Keep you safe. Keep you happy.” He tucked your hair behind your ears before gliding his thumbs over the skin just below your eye. “I will. You just gotta let me.”

You gently pried his hands away from your face, taking them into your own and pressing a kiss into his knuckles. “Okay, baby. I’ll let you. I’ll let you,” you repeated. “I’m safe with you, I know.”

He pulled you in suddenly, practically squeezing all of the air out of your lungs with the grip he had on you. “I promise you. I promise.”

He promised you, and you believed him.

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills,

Well, the landslide bring it down

Oh, the landslide bring it down

At your lesson with Ellie, she seemed more motivated than you did. Sooner or later, she was going to exhaust the entire Star Wars: A Beginner’s Score sheet music book that you had found a few years back.

After successfully sight reading the first few bars of The Imperial March and promptly declaring that she had had enough ‘piano-ing’ for the day, Ellie gave you a look.

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

“Nothin’,” she said flippantly, looking away from you. “Just– are you and Joel, like, together?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ellie turned, looking exasperated. “Pft. You know exactly what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes and jokingly shoved her away from you by the forehead. “We’re getting married next week, actually,” you said, laughing. “Mhm, we’re running away with each other. Gonna buy a big white house with a big picket fence down south– you know, to keep you out.”

“Oh, fuck you, dude.” She giggled too, punching your shoulder in return hard enough to push you down the piano bench. “I have a right to know! And besides, I don’t have anyone to tell. I can keep a secret.”

“I disagree, but– if you memorize your F# minor scale by Tuesday, I’ll tell you all about it. Has to be perfect, though,” you qualified.

“Fine,” she said with stubborn resolve. “And… there's one more thing.” Her eyes cast downwards and her shoulders drooped a little as she gave a long exhale.

“What is it?”

She looked back up at you through her dark lashes. “Did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda?”

“The– the who?”

With a completely straight face, she said, “Yeah. He’s lucky it was a soft drink.”

Ellie’s laughter could barely be heard over your exaggerated groaning. You had your head dropped into your hands and Ellie in tears when Joel walked in through the front door.

Ellie, sighing and wiping her eyes, said: “I told her the ol’ soda-can-to-the-head one. Pretty good, right?”

“Jesus…” you heard Joel mutter.

Shiny-eyed and smiling, you pointed to the door. “Out of my house. Both of you. And don’t bother coming back.”

Ellie grabbed her coat and was out the door before Joel could even open his mouth. “See you Tuesday!”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Later that day, in the hot and unusually busy Tipsy Bison, Joel was too drunk.

It was the perfect conclusion to the most bittersweet day he’d had in a while. Had the morning with you, finished up a roofing project just after dinner, and against his better judgment, asked if you wanted drinks. You arrived as a pair, undoubtedly eliciting new whisperings from your fellow Jackson residents, but Joel was starting not to care.

You’d mentioned going out together in passing to him after he had told you about the bar scene when he was younger, commenting on how you wished you’d gotten to experience that. And yeah, maybe this felt more like playing pretend to him than anything, but he wanted to give you good days. Good memories. A real life, where you could experience things with him and not have to worry about how long the happiness would last.

Tonight, it backfired. A year ago today, he would’ve been mixing whiskey and oxycodone to forget it was Sarah’s birthday. But now, he was too drunk with Tommy, and you were watching all of it, and he wished he still had a handful of pills to knock him out.

“She your girlfriend now, brother?” Tommy slurred, clapping him on the shoulder.

Joel grabbed you roughly by the waist from his seat at the bar, tucking you in close to him. “Yeah, she’s my girl,” he cooed. “Ain’t that right, pretty baby?”

Tommy chuckled, slamming his glass down onto the counter. “Same way Tessa was your girl? Or different this time?”

Joel wanted to be sick. “The fuck’s wrong with you, asshole?”

You, a little tipsy yourself by this point, smoothed a hand over Joel’s curls in an effort to de-escalate this conversation. “Joel, hey. He’s your brother. Don’t start a fight.”

Tommy shook his head and patted you on the arm. “It’s okay, baby, let him speak.”

Drunkenly, Joel stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be saddled with all this shit,” he started. “Always chasin’ your sorry ass. Halfway across the fuckin’ country this time. If it weren’t for you, Tess’d be here.”

This was an old argument, but they were drunk, and it seemed like the perfect time to rehash it.

Tommy stood up to meet his eyes. “Oh yeah? Really? If it weren’t for me, Joel, you’da had a bullet in your head by now. Oh, y’haven't told her? Your girl? Go on, tell her. Tell her all about Sarah. Happy fuckin’ birthday to her.”

“Keep her name out your motherfuckin’ mouth, you– bastard–”

You had your arm interlinked with Joel’s, but he flung you off of him in an instant. He swung at Tommy, but his aim was a little diluted from the gin and Tommy ducked anyway. He only got one attempt in before five different people were pulling them away from each other to opposite ends of the bar.

You followed Joel, thanking the two men who were restraining him as he shouted strings of profanities and nobody, assuring them that you could take it from here.

“Joel, you gotta calm down. Hey. Hey, Miller, I’m fucking talking to you.” You grabbed his face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “Take a breath. Just take a breath.”

He did as he was told, but his eyes were still darting rapidly around the room. “Tommy…” he breathed out. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to, I swear. Did I hurt him? I hurt him, didn’t I?”

“No, baby. You– uh, you missed.”

“Ah, fuck.”

Maybe narcotics wouldn’t have fixed this, either.

Joel let you drag him back to your place without putting up much of a fight. Sarah. She would’ve been ashamed of him. There was a mounting list of things that Sarah would’ve hated him for, and this was just the icing on the cake.

Back on your couch, lying on his back, he wanted today to be over.

“I was s’pposed to be doin’ good for you,” he said quietly. “Bein’ better for you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, your voice straining with the force it took to tug off his left boot.

“I’m no good for you.”

“Joel–”

“I ain’t, babydoll. I ain’t. Not for you, not for Ellie, not for Tommy, not for Tessa, and not for Sarah,” he mumbled. “It’s her birthday.”

“I know.”

“I miss her,” he swallowed. “Real bad.”

“I know, Joel.”

There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest. Landslide was still stuck in his head.

… saw my reflection… snow covered hills …

He shut his eyes. “Is Ellie alright?”

“Mhm. She’s asleep down the street,” you said, tracing lazy shapes into his stomach.

“She’s a good kid,” he mumbled. “Tough kid.”

“She is,” you agreed. “She relies on you– cares about you. Lots of people care about you.”

… time makes y’bolder, children get… older …

Joel hummed in response. “I still need you.”

… I’m gettin’ older, too …

You bit your lip. You should really get back up, make sure Joel had a glass of water and painkillers near him for when he woke up. Maybe even a bowl from the kitchen. But your body felt like it was being weighed down by lead, and the infrequency at which you actually drank alcohol was making you unfathomably tired.

You laid down on top of him, head pressed against his chest. His breathing was slow and even and his heart rate was calm.

“I need you, too.”

152 notes · View notes

themisimagines · 8 months

Text

labyrinth

content: you and vyn attend a birthday party hosted in his honour but end up doing something rather more fun in a garden labyrinth. wink wink nudge nudge. again inspired by anna karenina (2012) film but also labyrinth (1986). maybe a companion to 'i could sleep inside the cold of you'. some spoilers for episode 10. total porn without plot. characters: vyn x fem!reader warnings: public sex, hunter-prey relationship, breeding kink, minor knife play

On your second last day in Svart, Vyn's father hosts a birthday party for Vyn – all to keep up appearances, of course. His father isn't present, and Vyn dislikes half, if not most of the people there. You've made your way through most of the evening by his side, and finally things have begun to wind down, the guests suitably drunk and starting to do unspeakable things, sure to forget everything by tomorrow. Vyn has told you to keep close – he doesn't trust half the people here, and your kidnap by his uncle is still fresh in the forefront of his mind.

Then the next moment, you find yourself wandering the grounds of a large garden maze, heart beating out of your chest as you run as fast as you can, trying to get to the heart of the labyrinth before you get caught. Every single twitch of the leaves and hedges beside you makes you jump. You've dropped pieces of clothing slowly to make a trail, so you don't get lost. Thank goodness they dressed you like an iced cake – layers upon layers of silk, lace, underskirt, petticoats, gloves, ornaments, brocade, outer layers, inner layers, not to mention the hoops used to prop up the voluminous skirts.

Just as you shed one of your outer layers, exposing your bare skin to the chill night air, a low whistle sounds behind you. Without looking, you decide to run, going further and further into the maze, not caring if you get lost now. But just as you see you've hit a dead end, you turn around, but Vyn is there, blocking the entrance.

Vyn stands in front of you, slowly approaching and twirling a decorative blade between his fingers. Even though you know he would never hurt you, there is a tantalising whisper of fear running up your spine, which is deliciously arousing.

'I found you,' he sing songs softly. In the moonlight, his eyes glint as he gets closer, the most delicious shade of honey gold. You love seeing him like this, like a cat who has gotten the cream, a mischievous boy reliving the childhood he never really got to have.

You consider making a dash for it, but he closes the distance and grips your wrists over your head tightly, breath skimming against your ear and neck as he whispers, 'Don't even try... I've hunted down my prey and I intend on enjoying every single moment...'

He turns you around and secures your wrists to a branch with his abandoned bowtie, manoeuvring expertly around your hooped skirts to run his hands up your bodice and corset, slicing open the corset ribbons and stripping your layers back. Standing there, unable to move, you feel especially vulnerable, feeling the cool metal of the blade just barely grazing your skin. Under his careful unwrapping, you are soon completely naked, bared to the moonlight.

'What a marvellous birthday present,' he whispers against your skin, pressing soft kisses throughout your back. 'Thank you.'

You can hear other people have entered the maze, laughing drunkenly from some distance away. Vyn sees you notice them, and chuckles in a low voice. 'You didn't manage to find the heart of the maze so you're all mine. If I choose to let anyone else watch me fuck you, then you can't do anything about it.'

'Pretty words,' you retort, squirming at the feeling of his gloved hands running over your body, squeezing at your tits, ghosting over your thighs, flicking at your clit. 'I bet if anyone actually dared to come over, you would have their head cut off or something.'

He growls at the thought and bites down hard on your neck, definitely leaving a bruise there. 'You're not wrong.'

Vyn pulls away and you whine at the lack of contact, turning around to see what he's up to, but without any warning, he lines his throbbing cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you, making you cry out in surprise.

The pace he's taking is breathless, cock sliding out fully before slamming into you, setting a desperate pace like he's trying to punish you, forcing small cries from your throat. You are pressed up tightly against the hedge, pain mingling with pleasure, twigs and branches scratching at your delicate skin, feeling like a thousand hands clawing at you, which somehow is a huge turn on.

'That's it,' Vyn purrs. 'Make those beautiful noises for me, darling. I want everyone to hear you.'

You try to bite your tongue just to defy him, but then he grabs your breasts in each hand, forcing you against him and bending your back impossibly as he fucks you fast and hard. Your nipples are in his clever fingers, and he is playing with them in the way that makes you want to scream, because it feels too good, and you are terribly overstimulated from everything. You squirm relentlessly on his cock and you hear him pant shallowly, quietly whispering about how wonderful you are over and over again under his breath, hips thrusting into you endlessly.

You're not content with letting him have his way completely, so you turn your head around to look at his face, which is dark with desire, completely focused on every single sensation as if he's a beast and you're his prey.

'Is that all you've got?' You challenge him.

Upon hearing that, he growls and stops to untie your hands, looking to punish you even further, but the moment you are free you tackle him onto the ground, knocking all the air out of his lungs and mounting him. His face is surprised, but he doesn't resist, and this time it's your turn to pin his arms above his head with his own bowtie as he watches you hungrily, not resisting although you know he could easily break free of your sloppy knots, wanting to see what you do next. It's a strange sight – you are completely nude, having been stripped so thoroughly by Vyn earlier, but he is almost fully clothed. It almost makes you feel like a wild woman who has hunted down her prey and is ready to enjoy the spoils.

You slide down onto his cock, relishing the feeling of fucking outdoors – being fucked from behind always feels so animalistic, but being on top tonight drives you wild, and you lift yourself off his cock and plunge back down, watching Vyn bite his lip and watch you move up and down, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, your thighs burning with exertion. 'Nghh-' you moan, feeling him hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. 'I love watching you like this,' you tease him breathlessly. 'Helpless beneath me, completely at my mercy...' You grind your hips in a circular motion, drawing your lovemaking out.

There are more voices approaching, they seem to be getting closer, but you're quite sure that they aren't about to find you anytime soon. Cries of pleasure ring out from other corners of the maze, other lovers having found secret spots to release their desires. You see Vyn's eyes glint as you tease him, a smile on the corner of his lips, rising to the challenge. He shifts his feet upwards, thighs grazing your buttocks, and you are just about to ask him what kind of tricks he's trying when his hips thrust upwards, sending you bouncing upwards, and seeing stars from how deeply his cock is buried inside you.

'I can hardly let my prey get away with everything,' Vyn bites down, cock ramming into you, leaving you breathless and begging him to slow down.

'Ah - Vyn - Ah - ah - mmmh!' You cry out, as he drives faster and faster, not letting you gather yourself for a single moment, thrusting so hard that you lose your balance and are pressed against him, hands scrabbling for purchase in the soil as he just uses you mercilessly, chasing his own release while pushing you closer and closer off the edge. 'Ready to scream for our audience?' He chuckles in a low voice. A pair of voices comes so close that you swear they are about to turn the corner, and the thought of getting caught is so deliciously tantalising that Vyn just has to thrust a few more times before you come undone around his cock, trying to stifle your cries in his neck, clenching and throbbing so hard that you see flashes at the side of your vision.

Vyn speeds up for his last few thrusts, and he whispers how good you are, how amazing your cunt feels around his cock, about how much he loves you, and surely you have another one in there for him, he wants to feel you come again. He has freed his own hands and one now snakes down to your clit, the other tearing your hand away from your mouth - 'Don't you dare hold back, I want everyone to hear that you're mine.' He rubs your clit as his cock grows and throbs inside your cunt and that pushes you over the edge again, crying out in earnest this time - 'Fuck yes, Vyn - oh!' and Vyn cums with a guttural groan, growling deeply and squeezing his eyes in pleasure.

The voices trail off, giggling to themselves. There is no way that they didn't hear their lovemaking, but also the hedges are so thick that they couldn't possibly have seen who it was. You collapse onto Vyn, and he embraces you in his arms, both of you panting heavily. He gives you his jacket, and drags over the remains of your dress to keep you warm. 'It would be a shame if you caught a cold,' he says. 'I would feel rather responsible.' You giggle against his chest, buried in layers of silk and tulle. You both look up at the sky, watching the stars and feeling so lucky to be in love.

#tears of themis #tears of themis smut #vyn richter #vyn richter smut #vyn x reader #vyn richter x reader #vyn tears of themis #tot imagines #tot smut #happy birthday my damaged baby boy

272 notes · View notes