#anyway back to general thoughts there are things that made me sad :(((( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightwing-s · 3 months

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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.

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wqterlillypdfs · 1 year

Text

summer blues

pairing: jeremiah fisher x fem!reader, bestfriend!steven conklin x fem!reader

summary: All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, general sad thoughts. dumbass idiot jeremiah. unedited!

a/n: i went thru like the full range of emotions writing this fic, idk how i feel abt it but this is my comeback after three months of no writing. anyways, hope u enjoy!! 💞. reblogs are appreciated as always!

The sun sets low, casting a warm glow upon the unfamiliar garden. The air is thick with the hum of laughter and music that drifts from the house, and everything seems perfect. It should be perfect. This is the stuff summer dreams are made of, and yet, you’re sitting on the outdoor furniture, alone, and left to your own devices.

Summer so far has been nothing but longing. You had watched as the one boy who had captured your heart at ten spent days at the beach with girls you didn’t even know the names of. And sure, it’s not like you have anything, not even close. But could you blame yourself? Jeremiah was nothing but perfect Carolina-blue eyes and golden skin. He was your summer dream.

The house party was meant to be a distraction, that’s what Steven had said when he tugged you into his car. It’ll be fun, you need to stop being sad all summer. He was nothing but adamant to make this summer the best yet, especially with the overhanging weight that Conrad and himself would be moving to college next year. Steven had never been fond of change, especially not when it came to summers at Cousins.

Steven had long since abandoned you to dance the night away with pretty girls and hooting boys, so instead here you are, sitting alone at a party, trying to fill the Jeremiah-shaped cavity in your heart with fruity drinks and loud music.

Jeremiah hadn’t been in sight when you first arrived at the party, and maybe that was a good thing. You could enjoy yourself for once, without your wandering eyes finding him somewhere with his hand on a girl's waist. Even just the thought of it made you sick to your stomach.

But sometime between then and now, he had shown up. Figures. And now you watch as he makes his way out of the big back doors, down the patio steps, past the pool, until he’s sitting with you in the makeshift gazebo, fairy lights sparkling above.

“Hey trouble,” Jeremiah greets as he sits on the plush outdoor sofa next to you, sidled up close enough that he bumps his shoulder with yours in welcome.

“Hey,” you parrot back, not meaning for the obvious buzzkill tone in your voice.

“What’s got you all bummed out?”

“Dunno.” you reply, eyeing the cold drink you’re balancing on your thigh which leaves a cold ring of condensation on your bare skin. “Did Steven send you to get me?”

Jeremiah’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he cocks his head to the side. “No? Why would he need to? Can I not check up on my favourite girl?”

You let out a bemused snort, running your finger around the brim of your glass, eyes still not meeting his. Maybe you have had too much to drink.

“Come dance with me,” he says instead, hand outstretched, waiting for yours. You let your head fall against the back of the sofa.

“Not in a dancing mood.”

You don’t know if it’s the drinks or if it’s real, but Jeremiah shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his features as he tucks the stray strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear. His hand lingers there a few seconds too long.

“What happened to dancing the summer away?” He questions, and when you finally look up to meet his eyes, he’s much closer than you expected.

“I was fifteen when I said that,” you note, which was almost two years ago now. How does he remember these things?

Jeremiah doesn’t respond immediately so you take your eyes off him, instead you watch the house glow to life, light filling the windows as the dark night begins to blanket the sky. The garden itself is empty with most of the party opting to escape the summer heat by seeking shelter indoors. A few girls are busy by the poolside, and you notice one of them keeps diverting her gaze back to where you and Jeremiah are sitting. Typical. It was like every girl in Cousins was obsessed with the prospect of at least one of the Fisher boys taking fancy in them. Was it bad that it always made you jealous? Everyone who sees him, wants him, and you wish you could keep him as just yours.

“You have an admirer,” you point out, nodding to the girl by the pool. You must admit, she’s gorgeous. Pretty brown eyes and gorgeous hair that even when wet seems to frame her face perfectly. You slink further down in your seat.

Jeremiah simply rolls his eyes at you. “Well she is pretty.”

And you know he means it as a joke. Can tell by the stupid grin and the tone of his voice. But the words are still like a dagger to your heart, twisting and turning until you can barely breathe - and oh God, you need to get out of here and away from him.

You set the drink down by the sofa, it meets the wooden deck with a too-loud clink before you stand abruptly. You brush down the skirt that had ridden up your legs as the ring of water on your thigh left behind by the glass soaks the edges of it. “I need to go,” is all you can murmur out.

“No, wait-” Jeremiah begins, standing to follow you.

“It’s fine,” you push, faux niceties lacing your voice, smiling as much as the ache in your chest will let you. You can feel the frown on his face burn into your back as you turn to leave, but you choose to ignore it, instead making your way back into the large lively house.

As you pass the pool though, the girl who has been eyeing Jeremiah gets up with a giddy look on her face, she calls to him in a sweet honeyed voice and it makes you sick.

You climb the patio steps, making your way through the lavish interior of the house.

You push through the crowd of people within the house. You just need a moment to yourself, to gather your thoughts and figure out just what the fuck was going on with you. Carefully, you slip into the bathroom, pushing the door shut with the weight of your body before leaning against the sink. You take deep breaths, trying to calm the beating of your heart.

All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

Being in love with Jeremiah Fisher was anything but easy, not when you had to dance around the intricate friendship that had blossomed since you were eight years old. You didn’t know what love was until you were fifteen, sitting on the pier with him as you skidded rocks across the ocean. When he had smiled that smile and his eyes sparkled like the entire cosmos was within them. From that very moment on, you were doomed. Every brush of his hand against yours felt like a calculated step, and it was your fault for deluding yourself into believing he had space in his heart for anything more than a friendship with you.

It’s only a million times worse when you’re as close with him as you are, casual flirting and lingering touches was nothing but the norm. So it was especially difficult when he’d grab your hand and lead you through a crowd, or whisper some stupid inside joke just for you in a crowded room, when such a simple touch set your body alight with sparks.

“Knock knock,” you hear the door open softly, Steven’s head poking through. You had forgotten to lock the door, you realise. “Jeremiah thinks you're mad at him.” He informs, voice careful and soft as he closes the door behind him, making his way to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the turmoil within yourself. Instead, you offer a weak smile letting out a shaky exhale. “Well, I’m not.”

Steven looks amused as he leans with his back against the sink next to you, tilting his head so it falls into your field of vision. “You sure?”

“Very sure.” You confirm.

“I think you’re lying.”

You take another breath, “I’m not mad, i’m just…” your voice trails off as you try to find the words.

“Angry, confused, sad?” Steven offers.

You shake your head as you poke his shoulder, “would you let me speak?”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” he throws his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just… tired,” you say, defeated. Steven gives you an apologetic look. He’s known about your not-so-little crush on Jeremiah. How could he not when he seemed to be the only person who could light you up when you were dim and down?

“I’m tired of having to watch him go out with other girls every other day. I mean it’s not like we’re exclusive - we’re definitely not - but I just wish I didn’t feel like throwing up everytime.”

For a second, Steven doesn’t say anything, he looks at you with those eyes he does when he’s thinking. “What’s that thing Susannah always says?”

“What?”

“About…” He blows out his bottom lip as he struggles to remember the words, “about how love is like a flower, it needs time to grow and blossom and you need to nurture it.”

You pause, before cracking a smile. “Never in a million years would I have even imagined you quoting one of Susannah’s cheesy pieces of romance advice.”

Steven rolls his eyes at you, but he can’t help the smile that creeps up on him too. “Look, the point is, love isn’t supposed to be easy. Like, at all. But you really like Jeremiah, and I get it, he can really suck sometimes, especially with the whole hooking up thing,” - he looks up at you as he finishes his sentence, - “but if you love him as much as you let on, you’ve gotta just go for it. You need to stop pushing him away because of your irrational fear.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to face Steven, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. “Okay, it’s not irrational, it’s completely rational. What if I just end up ruining everything? That’s a super real possibility. I don’t want to lose Jeremiah as a friend, and the risk of running that possibility is way too high.”

“God,” Steven lets out through a sigh, he looks like he wants to strangle you. “Listen to yourself! Maybe if you haven’t been moping around all summer you’d be able to see it.”

“See what?”

“Just go out there and talk to the boy.”

“This’d be a lot easier if you just told me.”

“I think you’d appreciate me a lot more if you figured it out for yourself.” Steven tells you, and he says it in a way that leaves little room to bicker back. He gives you an encouraging nod and a soft smile and for a minute you think he’ll say another stupid thing like go get ‘em tiger! But he graces you with silence and leaves you alone in the small bathroom.

You look back at yourself in the mirror. Maybe Steven is right.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

Jeremiah is sitting on the steps of the patio when he hears the sliding glass doors open and shut and the shuffle of Steven’s old sneakers. Immediately, his head swivels so he’s facing his long-time best friend. “So what’d she say? Is she mad?” He blurts out immediately.

“Woah, slow down lover-boy,” Steven says, amusement in his tone. He takes a seat next to Jeremiah, placing his hands either side of himself. “Well, she’s not happy.”

“What the fuck, bro,” Jeremiah grumbles, “you were meant to deescalate the situation.”

“Actually no, I was checking up on my friend, who I care about, and who I haven’t been dancing around all summer long.” Steven corrects.

Jeremiah looks away, unamused, “okay I get it. I haven’t been the best person to her lately.”

“Really?” Steven gasps, faux surprise lacing his tone, “You’ve been avoiding her like the plague and hanging around with random girls like you want her to be upset.”

“I don’t!” Jeremiah is quick to retort. “I’m just…”

“You’re just being a dick.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Look man, I’m not trying to upset you either, but I really don’t get why you’re so scared to confront your feelings. You like her, you like her a lot and it’s so fuckin’ obvious.”

Jeremiah opens his mouth, ready to argue back, but Steven leaves no room for it.

“She literally craves your attention and you’re out here, making out with other girls like she’s not right there. Is this some weird attention grab sort of thing? What, are you trying to make her jealous? This isn’t like you, Jere.”

Steven’s words cut deep. So deep Jeremiah thinks they’ve scarred him, but maybe it’s for the best. No, it’s definitely for the best.

“Think about it,” is the last thing Steven says, before he stands up, giving Jeremiah a reassuring pat on the back, and disappears into the crowd of party-goers within the house.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

When you finally feel ready enough to leave the bathroom, you think for a moment about Steven’s words. They kick around in your head. You chuckle to yourself, who knew you’d ever be taking legitimate advice from Steven? But instead of confronting your problems like you should, you pour yourself another drink, turning on your heels as you ascend the glossy white stairs. Whoever’s house this is - in the words of Steven himself - they’re fucking loaded.

The upstairs of the house is empty, albeit a few straggling couples making out in the hallway. You ignore them, noticing the gorgeous open balcony that conjoins to the hallway you’re currently walking down. It’s quiet and empty, a perfect place to spend the rest of the night in peace.

The moon hangs low in the sky now, reflecting off the ocean ahead, and as you step out onto the balcony the cool Summer night’s air bites at your skin.

It's a glorious view for what should’ve been a perfect night. Laughter and music wafts up from the party below, and you let out another regretful sigh, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. As your eyes linger on the ocean, you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You turn to see Jeremiah standing beside you, and when you look at him, he gives you that sweet smile.

“Hey trouble,” he begins, “you alright?”

You shrug, turning your back to the balcony as you slide your back down the railing, slumping to the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. “Trying to be.”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Jeremiah with such a soft voice felt unnatural, and a part of you felt guilty for rendering him so quiet. Silence stretches between both of you like a chasm, as you struggle to find the right words within you to tell him how you truly felt. Instead, Jeremiah fills the silence, his voice hesitant but filled with a quiet determination. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed look, “what are you apologising for?”

“For this entire summer,” he says, sitting on the ground next to you as he takes the cool glass from your hands, fingers brushing yours, before he places it on the ground. You tilt your head, curiosity in your eyes as you wait for him to continue.

“I’ve been an asshole. Like, bigtime, and I'm really sorry.” He takes a deep breath, takes your hand in his carefully, softly, like you’re something to be worshipped. To him you are. “And, I… need to tell you something.”

You look up at him, heart racing with anticipation, “what is it?” you all but murmur.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I just-” and when he can’t find the right words, because how is he meant to compress everything he’s ever felt for you into one sentence? It’s impossible. He instead uses his actions.

His hands untangle from yours, grabbing the sides of your face before pulling you into a kiss. He kisses you. He kisses you and the world falls away and there’s nothing but him. At first, you don’t know what to do, it’s all so sudden, but when it finally registers, you want to cry. Not sad tears, and not entirely tears of joy either, tears of relief, tears that carry the weight of all your longing.

When he finally pulls away you’re quick to pull him back, holding him as close as humanly possible as you kiss him with all the fervour you can muster, hoping and praying he can taste the apology on your lips. But when it gets too much, and you need air, you pull away again. He looks at you, and you hold onto the fabric of his shirt tighter because this all feels like a dream.

“She isn’t you.” He murmurs, soft enough it could be carried away by the summer breeze.

“What?” you whisper back, as to not break the sacred quietness.

“She's. Not. You. None of them are, none of them could even dream of being you. They’re not funny like you, not gorgeous like you. They don’t know me like you do - Shit, I sound like a sap.”

You chuckle, “no, please do continue.”

He shoots you that heartstopping grin. “Oh, so you do like it when I flatter you?”

“Love it,” you answer, mirroring his grin.

His features soften for a second, and again, the apologies cascade from his lips. “I’m sorry, for being such an asshole. You deserve so much better than me, I’ve been the worst, and I didn’t mean to make you upset or jealous, I was just… nervous. God, you make me so nervous I do the dumbest shit.”

“I make you nervous?” You can’t help the disbelief in your voice.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He says, nothing but sincere. He smiles then, and that makes all of it worthwhile.

You don’t know for how long you manage to get lost in him, but when your thoughts begin to wander, you let the thoughts flow freely from your lips. “Remember when we were ten,” you say, recounting the memory that started this all, “we had snuck out to the beach. We got home so late that night, and we tried to sneak back in, but of course that never works with Susannah. She had said something like-”

“No more sneaking out for the both of you,” Jeremiah continues, “she said we’d had too much fun.”

“But we did it anyway.” You finish, dumbfounded that he remembers that at all. “How do you remember all these things?”

“Because it’s you.” He says it like it’s obvious by now. His pretty blue eyes don’t leave yours for even a second. “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone the way I love you.”

You look at him with that stellar smile he loves so much, but before he can speak, you’re interrupted by the familiar presence of the boy who played cupid.

Steven shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes. "Finally,” he breathes out, as if it pained him to see the both of you dance around each other all summer. It probably did. His hands are wrapped around a cool glass, it’s empty. “I think this has been quite a night.”

You nod, blissful, turning to meet Jeremiah’s blue eyes. They speak volumes in themselves, a deep ocean blue that sparkles with some form of admiration, you can’t quite figure it out. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, pushing himself off the balcony floor as he extends a hand for you to take, which you do.

Maybe, this summer could be perfect after all.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

general tag list: @thatfangirl42

tsitp tag list: @seaveysoceaneyes @fens-mire @thatonefangirl444

if u wanna be added or removed from my general taglist, or a specific fandom taglist just let me know!

#jeremiah fisher fic #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah fisher blurb #jeremiah fisher fanfic #jeremiah fisher #jeremah fisher fluff #jeremiah fisher angst #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher imagine #tsitp fic #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp x reader #steven conklin x reader #steven conklin x y/n #bestfriend!steven conklin x reader #steven conklin #jeremiah fisher x you

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miley1442111 · 11 days

Note

Hi love :) I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a little something for Derek Morgan? Where reader and Derek have a similar dynamic to Chandler and Monica from friends, maybe something similar to that one scene where Monica gets called high-maintenance and can't stop thinking about it and Chandler comforts her by saying that whilst you may be a little above the average maintence level (or something around those lines, it's been like 2 years since I last watched friends 😅), he's just like, "it's okay, because I like... maintaining you?".

Btw I'm obsessed with your fics I just finished reading all your Aaron fics in one go. Thank you so much my love! <333

omg i love this ideaaaa so much (Truth be told I've never watched friends once so i did in fact have to look this scene up on youtube)

i hope you enjoy!!

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you're not high maintenance, right?

pairing: derek morgan x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, mild insecurities

High-maintenance. You weren’t high maintenance, right?

It had been a throw-away comment from earlier in the week, something funny David had said. Though it stuck with you, making you question if you were high-maintenance or not.

Was it high maintenance to ask your boyfriend to drive you to the gym? To ask him to get you a coffee? To ask his opinion on things? To ask him to help you with something?

You were going over it constantly in your head, so much so, that you’d decided to change.

Him getting you coffee turned into you getting him coffee. Him helping you on cases turned into you practically ignoring him unless you were alone, or at home. Him giving his opinion on anything you’d usually ask him to give his opinion on, turned into never asking his opinion. Him driving you to the gym turned into you walking there and back alone. Maybe that one was a mistake…

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in the passenger seat of his car, the rain had ruined your hair, your active clothes sticking to your body, and his voice droning on in a lecture of why it wasn’t safe to walk home at 11pm alone.

“I mean I seriously don’t understand baby, why can’t you just let me pick you up?-” he was worried. The kind of worry that made someone pissed off.

“Why can’t I just let you pick me up, Derek?” You mocked. “I fucking wonder why.”

“You wanna’ tell me something baby?” He cocked his head to the side, glancing at you quickly.

“No,” you mumbled.

“What is wrong with you this week? We’re barely spending any time together, you won’t let me drive you anywhere, you’re acting like I’m not there at work-”

“I’m trying Derek, alright. Give me a fucking break,” you huffed.

“What are you ‘trying’ to do?” He asked, genuine confusion coating his words.

You just sighed and left the car as he parked it outside your shared apartment. You stood in the elevator, his jacket around your shoulders, feeling silly. Why had you let him pick you up? Oh yeah, three guys were following you. Probably the safer choice, though it didn’t make you feel any less childish.

You’re so high maintenance, a voice in your head nagged and you slipped his jacket off and handed it to him.

“Baby, can you just talk to me?” he asked, pulling the emergency stop button and turning to you.

“About what?” You started the elevator again, wanting to ignore whatever issue he thought you two had.

“Baby, if I did something-”

“You did nothing,” you reassured him with a sad chuckle.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, taking your hand in his. “Please talk to me.”

You looked down at his hand, a sad smile on your face. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me anyway,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Do you think I’m high maintenance?” You asked, scared of his answer.

He smiled down at you and sighed. “You’re a little high maintenance.”

“Oh…” you sighed. So Dave was right. Everything he’d said was right. Derek probably finds you so annoying. He probably hates you.

“But I like getting to do the maintenance. I like taking care of you,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad you let me take care of you.”

“What?” You stared at him and he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I like maintaining you,” he repeated and a smile spread across your face.

Who listens to Rossi anyway?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :) - requests are open! :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan fanfiction #david rossi #jason gideon #elle greenaway #aaron hotchner

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anashins · 16 days

Note

So this just happened to me but I found out my bf doesn’t have my contacts saved with any kind of emoji or cute nickname. Maybe a suggestion for a Drabble? Feel like a child writing this but idk how this has me so bummed and sad

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: As you find out that Jaehyun doesn't have your contact saved on his phone under a cute nick name, you start comparing your relationship to others. After all, that must mean you're not special to him - right?

A/N: I hope everything went well for you, dear! My bf always says, “I don’t know, you have to tell me!” - so just tell him! Because men are simple but their partners' feelings matter to them, even if they seem childish to you 💞

“Under which name did your boyfriend save you on his phone? You know that?”

You looked at your best friend who tilted her head as though in deep thoughts. For a moment, you hoped she wouldn’t know, wouldn’t care, and that you were overdramatic after all like you had feared all along, but almost instantly, she replied,

“When we started dating, he had me saved as ‘my girl’ without any kind of emoji. When we officially decided to get together, he saved my contact as ‘baby’ with a pink heart, and it remained like this until now.”

Your best friend wasn’t the first one who you had asked and whose answer was almost identical to your other taken friends you had questioned about this topic: Their boyfriends all had them saved on their phones with either a cute nickname, some meaningful emoji or both.

Your own boyfriend had you saved on his phone under your government name.

You usually never looked at his screen as there were always so many things going on with different people from his group, from his management and from people in the industry in general, so it was always buzzing anyway.

But when a week ago you had been lying next to him, sending him pictures from the activity you had done together shortly before, your name popped up in his chat history.

Your full name.

You had been bummed, and he had happily continued on as if he hadn’t minded you seeing this, as if this was the most normal thing in the world and didn’t make you feel less special among all his other contacts - and there were a lot for an idol.

After all, even when you didn’t have as many connections as him, you had your boyfriend saved as,

‘Yuno-ya’ with a pink heart.

It wasn’t the most romantic nickname as you weren’t calling each other pet names at all, but still cute and emphasized his contact to filter his name out of all other people.

Now, hearing all the other boyfriends having your female friends saved as something special, it made you feel even sadder as if the entire thing hadn’t been bothering you for a week already.

“Under which name has your boyfriend your contact saved on his phone?” your best friend questioned back.

You sighed out loud.

“I don’t like it when you make that face,” Jaehyun immediately said to you instead of a greeting when you came over to his house later that day. “And you have randomly started making it the last time we met. I’ve been worrying all week, but on the phone you always say everything is fine when it’s clearly not. Tell me now, did I do something wrong?”

You bit into your bottom lip. You felt that now was the chance, now or never before it would eat you up from the inside and you would never be able to let go of it. “Under which name do you have me saved on your phone?”

Jaehyun widened his eyes, completely blindsided by this unexpected silly question, apparently. “Pardon?”

“My contact,” you described it better for him. “Under which name can you find me in your contacts?”

He confusedly proceeded to speak out your full government name.

“Exactly!” you called him out.

“I don’t understand.”

“You have me saved in your contacts under my full name!”

“Well… isn’t that your full name? Under what name should I save you then? Should I make one up or…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on! What’s the problem here?”

You folded your arms in front of your chest. The longer you went on to explain this situation to a very oblivious Jaehyun, the sillier you started to feel. Were you exaggerating? But none of your friends had said so and claimed your feelings were valid.

Suddenly, your voice was very low when you poured out your feelings to him as there was no turning back anymore. “My friend’s boyfriends have them all saved on their phones under some cute nickname. Or with a cute emoji at least. I also have you saved as Yuno-ya with a heart. It makes the other person feel special and makes the contact stand out from everyone else. It gives you a little surge of excitement whenever that person’s name pops up. As you have me saved with my full government name… it makes me think if you see me as everyone else and I’m not that special to you.”

Your breakout followed a few moments of silence in which you kept your gaze locked to the ground as you were now kind of too embarrassed to face Jaehyun. Hearing these words… you felt so childish.

The pat you felt on the top of your head only shortly later convinced you of the opposite though. When you lifted your head, Jaehyun wasn’t laughing and he didn’t look like he wanted to make fun of you or didn’t understand your feelings at all.

“I’m sorry,” he said with genuine concern. “I… didn’t know. I have everyone saved on my phone with their full government name as there are just so many people that it really gives me a hard time to separate them all or even remember who they are. Even the members aren’t an exception, only my parents. It was just a habit I followed when we exchanged contacts and I was never bothered enough to change it. If I had known it was this important to you, I would have done it right away.”

Was it really this simple? Some men like your boyfriend just didn’t know, were totally unaware of such things and you simply needed to tell them to change whatever bothered you, no matter how silly and childish it might sound?

He was a perfect partner for you and you couldn’t believe you let such a futile thing question his feelings for an entire week.

Jaehyun smiled at you and pulled out his phone. “Don’t ever think again that you’re not special to me and I never feel excitement rushing through me whenever your name pops up on my phone. Your chat is pinned at the very top and your number saved as favorites. Among everyone I regularly keep in contact with, even if I don’t answer for hours, I always answer you first. I always recognize your picture, no matter how many times you change it. Upon first glance, I always recognize it’s you. My beautiful girl.”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and then proceeded to type something into his phone with a wide grin, obviously changing your name name.

“What did you save my contact under now?” you asked and wanted to catch a glimpse, but Jaehyun quickly pulled his phone away from you.

“Text me now and you’ll see.”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x you #nct x reader #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #requests

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luveline · 7 months

Note

Hi Jade! So definitely feel free to ignore this if you aren't interested I totally get it! But if you want I was thinking of the zombie Steve au and how my biggest fear would be to ask him for help finding period supplies while in the road. I know you said in your faq you don't write this, but I was thinking really it wouldn't be about any physical things reader is experiencing but more like embarrassment asking Steve and he's like "its no big deal!" Anyway, like I said if this is a hard no pls ignore! 💙

hi, hope this is ok ♡ steve zombie!au

cw reader menstruates + eats meat

Your back always aches. Your stomach always hurts. Symptoms of your period are stealthy under the general misery of life on the road, but you do eventually clock on. This persistent back ache is pervasive today, working its way around your stomach. It feels like a sharp stab of heat, and it's nothing compared to the pain you'll feel when it actually starts.

Steve turns his rabbit over the fire slowly, unaware of your internal struggle. "I still can't believe it," he says.

Not only did your snares work for the first time ever, you caught two. It's the first time in weeks you've eaten something that wasn't canned, your fingers still warm from your own. The fire is small to avoid attention, one rabbit smoked at a time.

Steve let you have yours first. He's chivalrous when he wants to be.

"Maybe we're getting good at this," you say, turning your water bottle into your hand. The smallest splash you can manage wets your palms. You rub them together and dry them haphazard on an already dirty shirt from your backpack.

"Yeah… maybe not," he says, shaking his rabbit skewer as it starts to smoke. "Shit. You made it look easy."

"It is easy, Steve. Do you want me to do it?"

He offers you the skewer, a sharpened, scorched stick you made in an attempt to be clean. You shuffle across the grass on your knees to take it, happy and sad at once when he touches your waist. You eat up any affection he's willing to give you (not much), but you feel disgusting today, worse now you know you're going to come on.

You bite your top lip as you tend to his food. How do you tell him? You're going to have to, because right now you're in a vaguely safe area, and now you'll have to backtrack to the last place you went. You should've been looking for sanitary napkins or tampons or something anyways, just in case, even if you hadn't had your period for ages.

"Steve, I… I think I've done something stupid."

He scrapes his hair from his face. "That's unusual."

"No, I– I really have."

Steve drops his hands into his lap, frowning, always frowning. "Lay it on me."

You shift uncomfortably, focused on the heat of the flames not quite licking at Steve's skinned rabbit. How to phrase it? What would you have said before the end of the world. "I think it's going to be my time of month, soon. And… and I should've thought about it before, when we were near the mall still, or that house, but I didn't. I'm gonna need– you know. Things."

Steve surprises you, shuffling closer, rather than away. Not that you were expecting him to treat you like a leper, but it's not a fun thing to tell someone. His hand again touches your side, fingertips brushing the tight wrap of your raincoat. "Are you in pain?" he asks.

"A little," you answer, voice thick, talking before you've thought about what you're really saying, "I've had it way worse. I don't know why it stopped for so long."

"You were probably too stressed," he says, his hand moving only an inch or two to cover your back. "Here, give me that."

"Sorry, I know it's gross."

"Are you kidding?" he asks, having taken the rabbit from your hands and laid it to rest on a clean stretch of hot stone. "It's not a big deal. Like, it is if you're hurting, but it's fine."

"We'll have to go back," you lament. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you so stressed about this?" Steve looks genuinely worried, his fingertips coasting a short path between your shoulder blades. Gentle, he starts to rub your back, goosebumps erupting along your skin at such a foreign sensation. "I took the same health classes as you did, I know you can't help it. Is this why you've been so slow today?" He doesn't wait for a response, only grins at his insulting, "I still have a square of Hershey's in my bag, did you want that?"

"Tastes like chalk," you say. You'd love some chocolate right now, but you'd love it more if he stayed here rubbing your back forever.

"You're not the only thing ageing badly."

"Lowlife."

"Wimp."

"Dick," you mutter, closing your eyes as his hand skirts to the small of your back.

"Is this helping?" he asks, matching your low volume. "We should go back anyway. Hole up in one of the houses by the elementary we passed."

"I can walk. I'll be okay. I just need something to stay clean."

"Okay. I'll get you what you need, don't worry. Don't worry." He hugs you very briefly, a quick squeeze against his side. "I'll make it suck as little as possible."

You look up at him with evident relief. "Thanks, Steve."

"We're in this together. Right?"

"Right." You smile. Steve smiles back. You've caught him in a good mood tonight for sure because of your successful snares, but you're wondering if he would've been this good to you no matter what. Steve is a good guy when he isn't asking you if you just got off the imbecile train.

"Will you finish that for me?" he asks, pointing at his rabbit.

"Oh, yeah. Of course."

When it's cooked, he insists you eat a little more of his. "You're gonna need the extra, yeah?" he asks, forcing strips of cooked meat into your hand. "Especially if we're walking back tomorrow."

Steve hands you his last clean wash cloth before setting up for sleep. He might be understanding, but he doesn't seem to know what to say. You take it gratefully, and the brief squeeze he gives your shoulder even more so.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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freminet-writings · 3 months

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hi!! Could I order hc from jealous fremi please? Thank you for reading! <33

freminet, the sopping wet cat

HE LOOKS SO SAD WHEN HE'S JEALOUS

let's say the two of you are out and you meet an old friend, and you kind of ignore freminet for the time being

hard not to considering he'll immediately go quiet, at first he doesn't mind, until it just keeps going on...

maybe you're even laughing or getting too close to this friend, or they're coming closer and touching your arm

freminet would get mad, but try to cool off, he doesn't own you, it's just a friend, he's not controlling...

... even though he's thinking of dragging you away and never seeing that person again

he gets upset at himself for having these thoughts, he's jealous because...

it's freminet, of course he has insecurities in the relationship, he then starts pointing out traits of the other person that's better than he is

it's really the stupidest things he shouldn't be worrying about anyway, but he never thought he deserved you in the first place

but being the good partner you are, your gaze eventually falls back to your boyfriend, noticing his silence and the way he held his head down

you leave your friend and hold his hand, bringing him closer, but he still doesn't speak, and barely moves

"fremi, what's wrong?"

he still wouldn't speak, his mind still picking at every insecurity he had

you hold his chin gently and pull his head up so he's looking at you, and his mind goes blank

"what's wrong?" you'd ask again, your other hand resting on his cheek, stroking softly

"... it's nothing, don't worry about it" but you could tell by his tone he was lying

and you already had a feeling you knew why he was upset

"are you jealous?" you wanted to tease him, but seeing the way he was generally sad made you speak softly, bringing him in close

his facade crumbles and you can see how horrible he felt

"do you think that... they're better than me? be honest, just...tell me, i won't be upset"

you sighed and kiss his forehead "of course not, you're my boyfriend, not them, besides... you're the best i could ever get"

his face flushed "you're just trying to make me feel better..." but it was working, hearing your praise always put him in a good mood

"...i love you" he whispered, he'll definitely still get jealous and insecure of himself for awhile, just always be there to remind him you love him and only him

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #freminet x reader #freminet x female reader #freminet x male reader

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precious-little-scoundrel · 3 months

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Dear John || Pt.1

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.

Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.

It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.

Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.

Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?

Dear A.C.O.R.N.

It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.

There. Said it.

Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.

I am quite drunk, you see.

A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.

A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.

I could write anybody from here. I could write you.

And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.

You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.

Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.

You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.

And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.

But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:

You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.

Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.

Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.

Because we do, ma’am. We do.

And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.

If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.

~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan

P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.

Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.

#masters of the air #callum turner #john egan #Major John Egan #Bucky Egan x reader #callum turner x reader #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #hbo war fanfic #Bucky Egan #mine #archive

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waldau · 3 months

Text

tomorrow — jeon wonwoo | 2,049 words | fluff

in the words of james acaster: starting making it, had a breakdown, bon appetit. also i saw the news about mingyu's post and laughed for a minute straight 💀

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

being sick sucks in general, but wonwoo thinks it's worse when he's on tour. he's supposed to be seeing new places with his friends, meeting fans and doing what he loves the most for them. in short, he's supposed to be having a good time.

instead, he's stuck in his hotel room all by himself, his limbs trapped inside an insanely heavy comforter which can't possibly be that heavy. and it's not even comforting him right now.

this is all wrong. he should be on the other side of the world, with you, eating the stuff you've made, or going on inadvisable, impromptu snack drives when you can't sleep. he shouldn't be in agony because of some random street food he decided to try with the rest of the group. that he somehow had no tolerance for.

either way, he really misses you, and has even resigned himself to counting the seconds that are passing so that he can bore himself into sleep and make tomorrow come faster. time is supposed to be an illusion, anyway.

his door opens slowly, and his heart jumps against his ribs for a second. there's no way you—

"hyung," comes mingyu's voice, low and concerned. he shuts the door behind him. "how are you feeling?"

"better. but still tired."

mingyu makes a sad noise. "hungry?"

"not at all."

"you sure?"

"yeah."

"okay, uh, we're all going for dinner now. we'll be back in a couple of hours, because dino wanted to visit the park nearby, but if there's anything you want, just let me know, okay?"

wonwoo feels the weight of his phone being set on his chest through the comforter. the block of metal and chips is the only thing that's his link to you right now.

"call me if you want me to get something warm and safe to eat before you sleep."

wonwoo wants to thank him, but he can't even muster the energy to keep his eyes open. he feels mingyu ruffle his hair briefly before chuckling, because that's something he doesn't normally do when wonwoo's awake. wonwoo allows it, just this once, mainly because there's nothing he can do about it.

"see you." and just like that, the room's empty once again.

wonwoo feels his eyes grow heavier after a while, head filled with thoughts about the group's next show and thoughts of you. he wonders what you're doing right now, whether you're sleeping, keeping well, or thinking of him with the same desperation with which he's thinking of you right now.

wonwoo loves you, and knows you love him despite the erratic schedules of his work, but sometimes being apart from you is the worst thing that he has to do.

he's thankful for the thick comforter because he can feel the temperature in the room dipping, and he finds himself going back to sleep again.

the light sound of a conversation is what finally brings him out of his sleep. he hears some snorts from near the foot of his bed. when he opens his eyes fully, having slept better than he has the whole day, he sees someone exiting his room. minghao, probably, going by his build. and there's someone still sitting by the foot of his bed, accompanied by the sound of shoes being kicked off.

it's you.

wonwoo lets out a chuckle and turns around to bury his face in the pillow.

"that's all you're going to say? after all the distance i travelled to get here?"

wonwoo turns around to see you inching closer to him, till your eyes are at the same level.

"are you real?"

you stare at him for a moment before you laugh, and oh, he's in love. it's nothing new — he's already known he loves you, for a long time, but now it's something more, because you're not a dream, and you're really here.

(you're his dream, but that's another topic for another day.)

"absolutely real. here, see?" you say, pushing his hair away from his face. he can see you better now, but you're blurry.

"this is unfair."

"what is, baby?"

"i want to kiss you, but i can't even see you properly. after all the distance you travelled to come see me."

he sees you smile before you reach over him and beckon him to sit up, gently placing them on his face and pushing them upwards till he's comfortable. better.

and you're even better.

"hi," you say, smiling a bit shyly. wonwoo figures it's because he's staring at you unabashedly right now, but surely you can't fault him, not when it's been almost a month since he's been away from you?

"hey, sweetheart," he says, glad you're able to hear it in person and not through a tinny phone speaker. "kiss me?"

"did you mean to say miss me?"

you have a cheeky smile on your face now. wonwoo shakes his head. "of course i missed you. but i want to kiss you. right now."

"you have no idea how badly i want to, but i think you know it's for the best if i don't."

wonwoo frowns at that. just because it's true it doesn't mean it's okay.

"here," you say, before you press a kiss to his forehead. wonwoo feels the tension in his shoulders melt away, his head sinking back into the headboard. you hesitate before pressing a soft kiss to his lips that leaves him wanting more.

"you said—"

"i know," you groan, pushing yourself away immediately. "i'm sorry. but i'm going to kiss you so much after you get better, so you better be ready for that."

it's a threat he can't wait to experience.

"how're you feeling?" you ask, hand combing through his hair. "did you have the medicine mingyu got you?"

"mm."

"feel like having anything?"

wonwoo tries saying something, but his throat feels dry all of a sudden. he extracts a hand from the comforter and points to his throat.

"water? tea?"

"tea...?"

you nod, for the bedside table for a flask he didn't even notice was there before.

"minghao dropped it by before leaving," you explain, filling a cup with some of the tea and setting it on the table. "lemon and honey. he said it'll help."

wonwoo's thankful, but he wants to know more about what you're doing here. "sorry," he says, his hand finding yours. he traces the shape of your palm and fingers, convincing himself you're really here.

"for?"

"you're supposed to be at work. i'm keeping you here."

"pfft. i wouldn't be here if i didn't want to surprise you, okay? it just happened that you fell ill. i'm doing this for me as much as i'm doing it for you. plus, it's a saturday tomorrow."

"oh," is all he can say.

"this tea isn't going to drink itself, you know."

wonwoo sniffs and picks up the cup. he holds it for a few seconds before his hands tremble, and he would have spilled it all over the comforter if it weren't for your hands that immediately took the cup from him.

"hot," he mumbles. "too hot."

you tut. "it's normal, baby. i'm sorry. i thought you'd have been feeling a bit better by now."

wonwoo makes a sound of displeasure. "it hates me."

you laugh, and he feels a bit better again. or maybe he's just imagining it. but it feels good. "no, it doesn't."

"it totally does. i should be sleeping by now."

"you should sleep after you have something. did you have anything since this morning?"

"mm. some soup. and...soup."

you give him a look. he doesn't know what to make of it, but he doesn't want it to be on your face for any longer.

"want me to help you have the tea?"

wonwoo nods and sits up slowly, still weak. he hasn't been this drained in ages, but he's glad you're here. his eyes close when he feels the cup touch his lips.

minghao doesn't joke about when it comes to tea. you sit in silence while he finishes the entire cup, word finally dislodging themselves from his throat.

"it's unfair."

"again? what is?"

he wipes messily at his glasses with his knuckles to see you clearly. "these keep fogging up..."

you take them off for him gently. he watches as you wipe his glasses clean with the edge of your shirt, looking at them in the light before placing them back on the bridge of his nose. better.

but the next sip ruins it again. wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan that turns into a laugh and you join in, and he wonders how he ever expected himself to go through the night without you.

you make sweater paws with your shirt and wipe his glasses gently. "i'll clean them however many times you want me to," you say softly. "but i'll still be here tomorrow morning, so you don't need to worry about not seeing me."

wonwoo wonders if you know how much better you're making him feel by just being here. your hair's not in its usual near state, your shirt is wrinkled, and you look exhausted, too, but it's you. and your familiar perfume, the softness of your hands, the love in your every move. and you're here, is the best part of it.

"just some more," you say, filling the cup again. "then you can sleep."

"i don't want to sleep," wonwoo mumbles, taking a sip. it really is helping him; his throat feels so much better than it has all day. "i want to talk to you."

"we can talk tomorrow when you're feeling even better, baby," you say, resting your hand on his chest. "you need your sleep right now. and i'm right here, okay?"

he knows you're right, but it doesn't quell his want to make up for the past month of virtual conversations. as he takes slow sips of his tea, he notices you looking at him.

"what?"

"hm?"

"you're staring."

you look at him, then look away. "missed you."

he somehow feels it's more than that. "that's all you're going to say?" he asks, parroting your words from earlier.

you meet his gaze, but you're blushing this time. huh.

"it's just...you've been looking so...good, recently," you say. "i've been seeing your videos, and stuff the boys keep sending me. i've missed you a lot. and i'm glad you're...that you're mine, you know?"

"i know," he says, eyes shutting for a moment, a smile spreading over his face. i know how it feels to feel that way.

you take the cup from him and promise to be back in ten minutes after your shower. wonwoo starts counting the seconds again, this time to make you come back to him faster. he likes to think it's worked, when it takes less than 600 seconds for you to be back next to him again.

you switch off the lights and settle down next to him in bed, scrolling through your phone while wonwoo gets used to the darkness again. a series of poorly muffled giggles gets him to open his eyes and turn to you.

"what's up?"

you show wonwoo your phone, still laughing. it's a picture of mingyu looking up and to the side while perfecting his angle for the camera. wonwoo presumes it's from the place dino wanted to go to. when you swipe to the next slide, it's the same picture. so is the next one. and the next one.

"what a goof," you giggle affectionately. "and he's deleted the post. i'm so going to tease him about this tomorrow."

wonwoo smiles at that. of course you will, and wonwoo will, if you forget.

you set the phone aside before moving a bit closer to him, enough for him to drape an arm around your waist.

"better?"

"now that you're here," he says honestly.

he knows you're blushing. "sleep well, okay?"

"you too, sweetheart."

wonwoo gets to see you tomorrow. he gets to go home with you after his final show tomorrow and spend the next two months at your place because there's nowhere else he has to be.

being sick sucks in general, but maybe it's okay just this once. because it brought him you earlier than he would have thought.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched

#WONWOO MENTIONED RAHHHH WHAT IS SANITY #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #svt #svt fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #fluff #waldau writes

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 6 months

Text

*SPOILER FIC FOR LOKI S2 FINALE*

Do not read until you have watched or are otherwise ready to be spoiled. THIS IS YOUR WARNING!

Idunn & The Golden Apple

In the village of Time’s Ridge, they say when a little girl is sacrificed, she is adopted by the gods and granted any wish she makes. When the orphan Idunn is driven over the side, she blinks and finds herself before a mysterious entity known as the God of Stories. Luckily, in order to gain his favor, she brings a small sacrifice of her own before his glowing throne.

Characters: Loki, OFC (child), cameos of Thor and Mobius Genre: Tragedy, Comfort, Found Family Word Count: 3.3k Content Warnings: SPOILERS FOR LOKI S2 FINALE!, Loki gives off dad vibes, child sacrifice

This time, the annual sacrifice at Time's Ridge was almost a scandal. Woeful Idunn was only ten-years-old.

She stood on the precipice, overlooking the glowing green abyss she’d once played beside thoughtlessly, unaware at the time that it was about to become her grave. Her thick red hair was woven into two braids, laced with daisy blossoms. Idunn was wearing a gray frock meant to symbolize her mortality and humility, she kept her hands in the pocket of her simple, tattered pinafore, her left hand curled around a small ball hidden away.

Instead of weeping like most sacrifices did, Idunn was choosing to go with at least a little dignity (not that anyone was there to be awed by her maturity--being an orphan, no one really cared how she looked anyway). Perhaps she wasn’t even all that upset about being picked by the Leader to die on behalf of Time’s Ridge. A less-brained individual might be flattered by being selected.

Of course, Idunn knew better. The only reason she was here was because no one would miss her.

The green glow of the bottomless pit was somewhat new, and that was when The Ritual began, some two generations before Idunn was born and left to die by a helpless mother. No explanation was given, but the green aura of the trench appeared, and suddenly: the perpetual storms plaguing the fields ceased. People stopped disappearing mysteriously…at least until things began getting worse again. Then, only a few years before Idunn was born, a child fell into the trench and disappeared, but time and the weather stabilized again, and so it was accepted that only the gift of a child’s wish brought personally to whatever god watched over Time’s Ridge, the sad little village at the end of the universe, would bring safety back.

It was always such an honor to be picked to die, until it was your turn. Then, if you were fortunate enough to have a parent of means, your only hope to live to see the following year was to have them bribe the Leader to pick someone else.

“Idunn, Blessed Daughter of Time’s Ridge!” The Leader began his ceremonial monologue, which was surprisingly ho-hum for being the prologue to child homicide. “Today, you are being sent into the Higher Worlds to seek out aid for our small community--”

I’m not waiting for this, the little girl thought. Let’s just get it over with. I have nothing to stay for. She covertly pulled the golden ball from her pocket and held it up, slowly turning before the crowd.

“May I eat before I jump?” she asked. Gasps rang out.

“Where did she get one of those?” someone called out.

The Leader smiled sadly, shaking his head. “You may, Little Idunn. Though I am not sure as to where you found one. But be aware, silly girl, even one of those won’t save your conscious life now.”

Idunn twisted her lip, looking at the golden apple in her hand, shrugging and taking a large bite. The taste was as if the Creators themselves invented the perfect sweet. The crisp skin snapped between her teeth, and the delicious juices felt almost like a cool, gentle tea rolling over her tongue.

I just hope the weird peddler who sold it to me was right, Idunn thought bravely, looking down at the apple as the bite mark she made instantly healed itself, creating a perfectly full piece once more.

A bolt of lightning broke overhead, causing the little girl to jump backwards, startled, her courage failing her for the first time.

“An honorable sacrifice should not be afraid of a little lightning,” mocked a cruel adolescent from the crowd.

Idunn looked back over her shoulder at her glowing tomb. “I’m not overly fond of what follows,” she replied, deciding to turn around, the juices and magic sugars from the golden apple beginning to fall into her stomach and move around inside, warming her core.

Work quickly, work quickly…come on…

She breathed in and raised her voice, which boomed many times larger than her petite body would suggest she could utter. “I hate you all, and I would live forever with no guilt at all if it meant each one of you got to fall into the pit in my place. I hope the timeline frays and swallows you all whole!”

The disapproving murmurs from her assembly of executions gave her a small pinch of satisfaction. One last victory for the condemned. She couldn’t delay it any more when the cruel Leader signaled for the pounding, rhythmic drums to sound.

Fine, even if this is it for me, I don’t want to be here anyway.

The only regret Idunn had in the moment before she fell forward into the abyss was that she was born in Time’s Ridge, a place so afraid of the shifts in time and space that were otherwise so natural around their realm that they would throw children off cliffs in order to make the gods happy.

Gods, Idunn thought. Good thing gods aren’t real.

Idunn decided not to give the Leader the satisfaction of reciting the poetic Final Prayer of the Sacrifice, and instead did a graceful twist of her small body, her red braids flying about her face and standing out even in the twilight suns, falling over with just enough time to wave goodbye to the village before meeting her fate at the bottom of a fraying timeline’s abyss.

The little girl felt the sensation of falling…more falling…even more…then a blinding green light followed by the feeling of being lifted by a thin arm or branch---

Gods aren’t real. Gods aren’t real. Gods aren’t real. Gods aren't--

Infinite branches of time, universes, were binding Loki to his throne amidst a sea of green matter and light, where he would be sitting until time itself decided to rip his duties from him and end existence.

That…that would be soon, right?

Worse than the eons that were beginning to pass before his eyes without him, promising adventures he would never have, romantic nights he would never see, were the whispers, the noises. Loki could hear every spoken voice in every timeline, but they were all a low, maddening hum that rang in his ears as he sat, legs apart, in his supernatural throne room, nothing but the years for company. Of course, the voices of those he knew in life were the loudest and hardest to hear.

And he was hungry. So. Damn. Hungry.

Even Gods needed to eat, but what was there to find in Loki’s palace of emerald and gold, buried underneath countless layers of timeline branches, ensnared in the prison of Yggdrasil? Loki couldn't die of starvation, but the hunger pangs would frequently send surges of pain through his core, out his arms, and as a result, a few timelines would flicker for a moment before regaining normalcy. It was likely these places would only see inclement weather or a few years of time skipped over as a result.

It was painful, but the only way Loki could check on his few allies was through the branches tying him to his noble seat. Sometimes, he would follow the sound of Mobius’ slow voice and find his favorite timeline: where Mobius was happy, retired, living with his adult sons and their spouses and children on a cabin by the beach (three jet skis and an ATV in the garage, of course).

He smiled as he saw OB’s TVA manuals and novels being stored away in a timeproof capsule for posterity, ensuring his legacy. The little man was never taller.

He’d even caught a glimpse of Thor from time to time, and Loki had spent countless hours following him from afar as he traveled with a small band of space brigands. He even managed a chuckle upon seeing what Thor was getting up to: “Father would be embarrassed…and that music is terrible.”

Not that it mattered.

He was forever burdened with glorious purpose, just as he’d prophesied as an arrogant youth. Now, I’m gloriously burdened, Loki thought. He nearly smirked at the poetic irony, or perhaps it was justice for his past transgressions that fit the same meter. A Loki with freedom would have enjoyed the twist for what it was.

A tear formed at the corner of his left eye at the thought. Forever. Here. No food or love or friendship to keep his heart from slowly eroding away with the millennia.

Suddenly, the branches around Loki’s wrists began shaking, writhing in his grip, as if a blustery wind disturbed them. He looked up, his eyes following one of the timelines furthest away from his immediate sight: a gray and lethargic piece of the Tree of Life. As the other tendrils of time began shaking furiously at some invisible disturbance, this branch suddenly exploded into a thread of white hot light before curling in on itself and returning to its original state.

Loki attempted to get to his feet, but he was still bound by the thousands of other timelines he protected. No matter, the odd shift in the air quickly subsided, at least until a brief ‘pop’ was audible from somewhere ahead of Loki’s line of vision, buried behind the twisting strings of time.

“Odd,” analyzed the God of Stories, “but amounting to nothing.”

Alas, he was wrong. For almost immediately after his declaration that the anomaly was of no concern: a small, high voice cooed from beyond the branches.

“H…hello?”

Loki felt his heart still, his skin cool, and a strange current in the air moved about the green chamber, rustling the hem of his cape where it met his boots. It was the first time since he took his place on the throne that it did so.

No, it’s a trick.

“HELLO?”

No one, no mortal could survive being here. It’s why it had to be me…

“Is there someone here?”

No, that’s certainly another’s voice.

Loki dared to hope after all this time. He opened his mouth to reply…but nothing fell out other than a few sharp notes and breath. Had it been so long since he’d used his vocal chords?

Out of the tangle of time streams before Loki, a diminutive, pale figure stumbled over herself, gripping something yet unseen in her hand, wearing a disgusting, dirty gray slip. A little girl, no older to existence than a spring lamb.

Norns, it’s a child!

“Is this heaven?” the little girl asked, brushing a fiery red braid from her shoulder and walking hesitantly into the throne room. “Or somewhere else?”

Loki’s mouth hung open, but his words still somehow failed him.

“Are you The Creator, or some God? Are you real? I didn’t think you would be. I guess I’m glad you are.”

The questions were pouring out of Idunn’s mouth so quickly that Loki was reminded of himself as a child, when he’d ask his mother one too many questions.

“Maybe I should--”

“Who are you?”

Idunn was so startled at the Green King’s first successful words to her, she leapt backwards, tumbling over a branch that her ankle met by accident. Loki nearly attempted to rise again.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m Idunn,” said the girl, regaining composure remarkably quickly.

“...Loki.”

A moment of awkward silence went by before Idunn took another step back toward the throne. “Are all those a part of you?” she asked, her thoughts as aimless and unorganized as any ten-year-old’s.

Loki looked up into the time vines, feeling smaller and more alone than ever in the surreal presence of this little creature who’d managed to survive an entrance into open time without being torn into tiny threads and scattered across space.

“I suppose they are.”

Idunn sighed, shrugging and positioning herself at his feet. “I didn’t know gods were real. I thought they were just an excuse to--”

“--oh, gods are real, little one--”

“--get rid of me.”

Loki fell silent again, this time stunned at the bluntness of the child, and the darkness of her admission.

“What kind of miniature sorceress are you, Miss Idunn?” he asked, his voice starting to lighten in an attempt to alleviate the child’s fears. “Your powers must be fearsome if you stand before me now fully intact.”

“I’m not a witch,” Idunn conceded. “They just chose me for the sacrifice this year, and I had something to help myself survive.”

Loki didn’t know what part of this distressing declaration to address first. “Sacrifice?”

Idunn nodded, looking about the branches above her head, pointing to the one that was still recovering from the intrusion. “Time’s Ridge. They call it The Village at the End of the Universe. They sacrifice a child every year to stop the storms.”

The God of Stories was aware of the histories of many of his burdensome tethers by now, but even Time’s Ridge was a mystery to him.

“Sacrifice?” he repeated as the oblivious blatherskite before him went on, her fears quickly alleviating into a more normal enthusiasm that suited a youth her age.

“Yes,” affirmed the girl, “but the night before they took me to the abyss, a strange man came by my cell window and offered me this.”

She showed Loki the golden apple, causing his jaw to drop again. The girl was unfamiliar, but the apple was unmistakably Asgardian. A rare delicacy, the Golden Apples of Asgard gave the Gods their eternal youth and immortality. Every god had a single one on their person, for sometimes one could find themselves pulling back from the edge of oblivion by virtue of one bite.

They were so rare because they were so difficult to cultivate. Any one mistake during the process would render the apples lethal to even the Allfather. The only grower Loki knew to be alive was an elderly Asgardian somewhere out in the cosmos. How he made his way to this little urchin teetering at the edge of everything and knew to offer her the last apple in existence, Loki couldn’t even guess.

“Did he say where he got that?” Loki’s eternal hunger suddenly caught up with him again upon seeing the golden apple in her small hand.

“No. All I can remember is that he was very strong and handsome for a peddler. Only other thing I can remember is that he was blonde. Oh, and he had a big hammer with him, too. I think he was looking for me directly, like he knew who needed this.”

Loki’s cold skin shot back into a warm heat that made two more tears stain his cheeks.

Idunn looked regretful. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Did you want a bite?”

Loki looked sadly off to his sides. “I cannot eat. I cannot let go of even a single one of these timelines, little one. I couldn’t hold an apple or a spoon.”

The child looked from Loki to the apple, and back. “So then I’ll help!” she said as simply as if it were the answer to 1 + 1.

Before the god could protest, or even ask, Idunn had taken it upon herself to climb Loki’s throne and sit in his lap, holding the unbitten apple before his lips. “Don’t you want--?”

Loki didn’t wait, his hunger overriding any sense of decorum, and accepted a large mouthful of fruit, almost unhinging his jaw like a snake to consume as much sustenance in a single crumb as he could. As a result, Loki had accounted for half of the apple with his bite. Idunn giggled at Loki’s accomplishment.

The food was not only the single most delicious morsel of food he’d ever consumed, but he felt it travel down to his stomach before warmly blossoming, artificially filling his stomach for the time being. The pains subsided almost immediately, and a surge of energy filled Loki’s veins.

Then, something remarkable happened that he didn’t expect. The timelines glowed gold instead of green for a moment, and each one that was even remotely loose or frayed was repaired and made stronger than it had been before. Small orbs of gold began appearing above their heads, looking as if golden apples were growing on the branches of the World Tree. Idunn gasped.

“Pretty!” she whispered. “I didn’t know these could do that!” she declared excitedly, looking down at the apple.

“Nor I,” said Loki, his gratefulness to the strange girl present in his tone. I wonder if this is affecting the beings within?

“Do you have children?” asked Idunn, suddenly. Loki shook his head, his large, horned diadem nearly whacking the girl off her perch.

“No. Do you have…parents?” he asked hesistantly in return.

“No. No one wanted me.”

Loki’s heart went out to the child. “I know the feeling.”

Idunn sighed. “Why do you think they picked me to jump at Time’s Ridge?”

Loki looked sadly down at the apple in Idunn’s fist, already repairing itself.

“I’m alone,” Idunn continued. “I had to come here in order to save everyone else while they move on with their lives without me. No family, no reason to expect to find one.”

Norns, am I looking into a mirror? Loki smiled, feeling an odd new sensation one could only describe as paternal. “Perhaps…when two unloved, unwanted people find each other, there’s a family to be found there, little one.”

Time passed, how much neither the entombed god nor the condemned child knew, but this was because neither cared. It was here that The God of Stories was able to share his own tales for the first time, and once he and Idunn moved past the initial shock of discovering one another here, in the darkest and least likely of places, his long stretches of details quickly became libraries’ worth.

Idunn may have been young, but her maturity was at least partially Asgardian. Loki suspected her heritage could have been closer to his own peoples’ than one would expect of one of the lowly residents of the edge of time. As such, Loki found his paternal instinct toward Idunn grow, and as infinite measures of time began to pass, he began encouraging her to eat and rest in between stories and songs. After all, she was only as immortal as the apples made her. She was not a god, nor a full Asgardian.

Before long, Loki felt compelled to say what had slowly begun to creep into his mind once she appeared: it’s so wonderful having someone to talk to.

Instead, he addressed what he least wanted to. “Idunn,” he said. “Unlike myself, you are free to leave here at any time.”

She sighed. “Are you tired of me now?”

He quickly denied her with a sad face and a headshake. “I suppose I just wanted to inform you that you could probably enter any one of these timelines and find a better world to live in than the one you knew…and the one that is here.”

Are you mad? thought Idunn. Why would I leave you, the first person to ever listen to me?

“No, I think I’ll stay here a while. You need someone to help you eat, and I need…”

Loki smiled and completed her thought. “...a glorious purpose?”

“Exactly.”

She nodded. “As long as I have this, and as long as you won’t tell me to jump off a ridge, then I will be here for you, King Loki.”

“Sweet daughter Idunn,” Loki whispered in relief, “just know one final thing: please don't call me King Loki.”

Idunn giggled and threw her arms around Loki’s shoulders in an embrace of perfect love and trust. For the moments she couldn’t see his face, Loki allowed the tears to fall freely.

Thus, the Goddess of Youth took her place alongside the God of Stories, giving him the strength and companionship he needed to hold reality aloft on his shoulders for however long the whims of fate would have him there.

For as long as she stayed there, Loki never knew loneliness again.

Yeah, this fic is basically "a wild daughter appears!" like Thor: L&T was for Thor, but Loki just can't and shouldn't be alone on top of the multiverse like that. Come on, y'all.

MY MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @acidcasualties @coldnique @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtiggerv2 @gruftiela @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @itsybitchylittlewitchy @joyful-enchantress @loopsisloops @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @peachyjinx @anukulee @queen-chaos-of-hell @purplegrrl27 @ozymdias @smolvenger @mrs-illyrian-baby

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obae-me · 3 months

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I am so sad that I'm not a Solomon fucker, because if I was, I would have actually cared about the Bon Voyage event. It's kind of cute, but I am very apathetic towards good old Sol. What are your thoughts on it?

Sorry for getting to this late! I wanted to actually complete the event before I responded, and I got to it very last minute! (Since I have low-key kind of hated the events lately. I hate spending 2-6 minutes doing the songs only for five lines of text as a reward, it's almost painful, but anyways...)

Now, Solomon as a character, I love. I was very meh towards him in the original Shall We Date, but they really started working on his character towards the end, and in Nightbringer they really pulled it home! Now I love Solomon! Before, he was just kind of some sketchy little sorcerer that they usually brought in to help solve plot devices- and don't get me wrong, he's still like that, but we definitely get a deeper look into *why*.

He's an immortal human whose desire for power and knowledge was so great, he somehow went head on with nearly the entire Devildom, convinced Barbatos to make a pact with him, and then made Barbatos show him every experience he could, at least, that's what I remember from the lore dropped thus far. And what do you usually get when you get a human that knows and sees too much? A broken human. A human who feels like there is no purpose left. A human with mixed morals and a shattered ego.

Now, this part is just my own personal thoughts and theories, but Thirteen talks about how Solomon's soul used to be beautiful like MC's, but then it became ruined. I imagine it's because he 'flew to close to the sun' and it nearly broke him. MC has hope, has love, has so much to learn still, so much to give. I imagine when Solomon learned and saw everything he could, he had hardly any hope left. Nothing was new to him anymore. He spent so much of his life seeking knowledge, and once he finally got it all...what was left? It corrupted him, surely. But then, clearly, somewhere along the line, his new purpose was to protect and stand for the human realm. Then his dealings with demons began.

The game always talks about how Solomon is now closer to a demon than a human. But I think that's because he *had* to "become" a demon. He has so many pacts, had so many exchanges with the Devildom, he had to learn how to survive amongst them. The way he withholds key information until the crucial moments. The way his "accidents" always seem to line up in his favor. The way his generous actions typically end up satisfying something of his as well. Exactly what a demon does. Exactly what someone would learn spending so much time around demons. I mean, that's exactly what MC learns how to do throughout the entire game! Play it smart, do whatever you can to earn the Brother's favors, and get their pacts. And then when MC throws that concept out the window and does things just to be selfless and then gets their pacts anyway? It almost breaks the "law" of the world that Solomon has come to know.

I'd like to think that maybe that's the reason why Solomon was sent to live with Simeon and Luke in Shall We Date. He needed to learn how to be around other beings, and maybe being around angels could correct some of that.

Now, about the event, the event was actually pretty cute. And while I have my general complaints about the events being very short and shallow, this one wasn't the worst of the bunch. Solomon getting some of the demon brothers together to give you a really nice dream is such a cute thing to do (even if he went behind your back to cast a spell on you). And also I'm not sure if it was stated specifically, but I'm like 98% sure MC and Solomon shared a bed at the end there, which is really adorable. I love sleepy bed cuddles.

This kind of ties back to my insights into his character, where he's spent so long being around demons that he's not really sure how to be a normal human anymore. He spends so much of his time planning and prepping how to do something for you when all he really needed to do was ask. All he wanted was a cute little date and to watch the sunset with MC and went through like a 100 step plan just to get it. And MC's little options to scold him for his schemes is really adorable in my opinion. Essentially it boiled down to them just saying "just ask next time, you idiot!". And Solomon being one of the smartest characters in the game being so lost and confused in terms of relationships and romance is really...very cute, which is why I think I like the concept of his character so much. I love when super overpowered characters have weaknesses like this, or learning new lessons.

I also loved the concept of just Lucifer, Asmo, Luke, Belphie, and Satan all just really hamming it up for MC. They preformed for them all just as a little thank you, and when they clarified, it wasn't really for anything huge. Shopping, helping them with decisions, just spending time with them, that was enough to fully convince them to pick up this dream-world-improv. Which...is really sweet.

Man I love these boys.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #anon #asks

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yanderesimp2000 · 1 month

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Extreme Yandere Adam x Fem reader Chap 1/5 Start of your new life !MINORS STAY AWAY!

(hey this is my first post here Just wanna say my english might be bad since I'm from Armenia but I'm excited to post here I USED ALOT OF INSPO FROM OTHER ADAM WRITES TO here are the TWS

Kidnapping, Adam being an incel as usual, threats of violence , Degrading, Manipluation, Violence, Noncon listener, threats of SA ,Gasliting, narcissism and rape if that's not your cup of tea SCROLL

Your are an angel You made it into Heaven recently Heaven would be like a paradise but is kinda like your old life in the big city You have to get a job buy things and Just deal with the classic shit of reality even though your in the FUCKING PROMISELAND

You decided to just be what you did back in Yerevan city and just be a secretary but it was the person to hire you that was strange it was Adam the First man when you met him you expected him to be some wise, kind and Gentle soul but instead you got a creepy, weird man child that you needed to cater to at every Second, Like you could just be standing in Adams office when he says "hey bitch bring me that soda bottle" the bottle was 2 inches out of reach. It seemed like he took pleasure in seeing you be miserable he always said "good girl good good girly" LIKE YOU ARE A FUCKING PET

Every second of your time with Adam was hell he was rude gross and was a FUCKING MISOGYNIST today while you were giving him a back massage he said "yes good girly" again as usual like you were a fucking pet but then he said "that's all you women are good for to serve men" this Made you even more angry but hey the pay is good and that Leeds to today You walk in sad as usual into Adam mansion when he starts making comments about something your already insecure of your wings he rubbed your wings and he then said "heh bitch your wings are so dirty you a fuckin slob yknow that but a hot one at that" he then Grabbed your ass and that's when you broke "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME" you yelled "I QUIT" you then storm of and back into your apartment crying about the insult of your wings and just fed up in general But that's when you get a text from Adam he always texted you when you were working for him but you quit it read "You really thought you could leave me you DUMB WHORE I treated you soo well I gave you everything you could of wanted and this I how you repay me I don't even need you you stupid fucking slut"

You were used to Adams shit by now but this this was just something else you text back "Adam stop messaging me Ill be back tomorrow at 10 am to get my stuff from my office and you better not try ANYTHING" he then responds "why would I try to interact with a brain dead whore anyway" that hurts you but you brush it off "being verbally abused by that dickhead isn't worth the pay" you thought before going to sleep

The next day you woke up at your alarm you got dressed but on a casual Black hoodie with Sweat pants because you weren't doing anything today other then going to Adams mansion to pick up your stuff. you flew over to his mansion only A 13 minute fly before landing at the door you were nervous but you knocked you waited and waited until someone opened the door "wow the whore really had the nerve to show her face again' He snarled "well I cant be to mad at you your fucking hot all we have to do to make your perfect is Shave down those ugly wings" he said in a arrogant tone. You walk inside and go to were your stuff is before you hear Adam locking the door 'what the fuck are you doing Adam" you snarl His mask lights up into those annoying little circle eyes he looks like a giddy child

"well I Talked to The big man upstairs if you get what I'm saying and since he would NEVER Say no to his precious Adam his first creation the person who gets ALL his love and affection he said I could keep you since your such a low ranking angel and you have no family in heaven no one will miss you " He still looked like a giddy child while saying this as all of a sudden He pulled out a stunning ring filled with jewelry and gems and luxury "cmere" he says before Walking towards you he towered over you, you were a quite short and small angel being only 5,5 and he was a Huge 13,2 foot angel. " ADAM THIS IS NOT FUNNY" you yelled at him but he said "Bitch? its not supposed to now were gonna cuddle and snuggle because Im feeling lonely and you cant do JACK SHIT" he sounded firm and serious you were scared and try to make a run for it but were tackled down "fuckin bitch your not escapin" he said before tossing you over his shoulders and taking you into his room upstairs and throwing you onto the bed before "cuddling" with you which was more like Wrestling a teddy bear he managed to restrain you with ease and he giggles "I love small girls like you so short and weak easy for me to... Manhandle" he says in an ominous tone you keep squirming and this just makes him giggle "so feisty" he says "don't worry my little Slut I'll fix you sooner or later I'll break your brain down till its just mush then I'll rebuild it to my liking and then you'll be loyal to me just me unlike those last 2 whores I married ill make sure you never leave" he says in a low coo ''i don't like you adam' you hissed he then got surprised "oh talking back to me don't you know who I am Im Adam the first man and your my new Wife you were created from my fucking rib you have to that me for your existance Im a superior being and your just my Wife you should me grateful so many people would beg to be in my presence and your trying to leave it ungrateful whore" he hissed as he started down at you you noticed he was starting to undress first his shirt then his pants then his Underwear but he kept that stupid mask on

His dick is fucking massive it was huge or maybe you are just small but damn and around it is just a bush of his grey hair He even has a piercing on his cock and his dad Bod OMG but as much as you hate it he was hot "like what you see" Adam teased you try to squirm away only angering him Well if your gonna resist I guess I'm gonna have to fuck that tiny pussy lose he said eagerly before starting to Teasing his cock around the hole "sh sh sh sh sh shhhh let it happen" Adam cooed "your my new wife you like this you have to your just in denial" he giggled before saying "Oh your sooo small My dick might kill you I bet I'd bet I'm like I don't know fucking 11 feet taller then you and my dick is huger then anything I've bet you've seen" he teased while rubbing his cock at the entrance of your pussy "damn it I just cant hold back" Adam yelled "p-p-please stop Adam" you whimpered but it just turned him on more as he said "going in bitch" suddenly you feel his entire dick in you it was huge and painful you were not enjoying yourself but Adam was "f-fuck babe I'm fucking you loose" he laughed as he kept fucking me so hard I felt like I was gonna throw up blood and organs he rearranged with every thrust it felt like a new bone in your body was being reangared you tried to flap your useless little wings which just made him think you were even more about how precious you are "that's so cute the only thing I dislike about you is your wings they get in my way might have to clip your wings soon" he teased scaring you He kept thrusting and more and more got hurt the more you pleaded whimpered yelped winces or squealed the more turned on he got as he was thrusting he laughed at the bulge in your stomach from his dick "it went to far in you really do like this ya whore"

You let out a whimper when he said that and that was the turning point he said "f-fuckkkkk I'm cummingim cumming" before long ropes of the warm jizz entered your pussy "yeah get pregnant bitch that's your only purpose breeding machines for men" he said at you and said let me clean myself up He then gets a rag and clean you and him up before seeming to get more gentle

"look I'm sorry when I get horny I go feral this is not how I am most of the time your just so fucking hot I just c-cant control myself" he said while cuddling you "I love you I really do and this world is cruel you have no family here no friends Nobody I'm the only one you have so im taking you under my wing figurative and literally" he said laughing since he tucked you in between his warm chubby chest and his soft comforting wings he then gets really soft and says "I've seen you on your own and your in so much danger so many people will try to take advantage of you and you have nobody to run to but me so I take it as my duty to protect you and coddle you like the cute little toy your are" he says that in a low coo while petting you his soft voice seemingly temporally calming you down you start to stop Wriggle and start giving up and snuggling into him causing him to turn bright red "their ya go girlly your a good little Beliver right so you should worship me if it wasn't for me you would not me alive you would not of been a thought you have to thank me for everything and disobeying me is just like spitting in the face of God it will get you banished to rot in hell ya get that" he pats your head as you cuddle into his chest since he's so big you look like a little housecat on his chest ''thats it just let my voice soothe you to sleep once you wake up tomorrow your life will be soon much better he teased as you snuggle against his body "nighty nighty" he says before you drift off to sleep

#hazbin hotel x you #adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #yandere adam x you #yandere adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel #yandere

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 1 year

Text

don’t mind the snakes, they’re harmless unless provoked; i’ll try to believe you when you tell me you’re fine.

qh43 x reader: girl who wants, boy who wants to be wanted.

(warnings: filth (nothing as bad as the last one, wink), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), general feelings of anxiety and insecurity (ew, gross! this is where i draw the line. lol, right.), mention of injury, mirror bullshit (today we tackle the feminine relationship with her reflection!), general debauchery. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

a/n: please be kind. i didn’t check for typos. this one is for my quinn girls and guys and such, how patient you have been. this also happens to be the most, hm, vulnerable? emotional? story yet. sorry to the porn lovers (i love you. i am you.) but this is actually fairly tame compared to my other shit. i mean, as tame as you can get when he forces you to look at yourself getting railed in the mirror. i think i invalidated my point. whatever. takeaways, takeaways. right - female desire is not a beast to be tamed, as much as we are told that. it is not a monstrous entity, it does not transform you into something vile. your desire makes you beautiful. your snakes make you fucking sick. sorry about all the classical imagery, i can’t help it, it makes me seem smarter. sorry i made this fictional qh43 a little sad, but i can do that, because he is fictional. anyways, gif is not mine. lovely people in my messages asking for auston - he’s up next, i promise, very soon. unfortunately, school has to come first. see you very soon. go canucks. love your snakes, today and always.

it had been a tough game. you knew that. he had played well, great, even, but the other team had been better. it was as simple as that. you knew quinn couldn’t win a game all on his own, but you also knew him - and how sometimes he had a hard time recognizing that.

regardless, it had been tough to watch. how he would slam the puck into the boards after the other team scored, the slight droop of his head as the clock refused to expire, the missed calls (most notably the high stick that resulted in some stitches during intermission). a tough game. your heart hurt thinking about how disappointed he must be.

anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you thought about what you could do to convince him that there was nothing he could do. unease seemed to seep through the floor, drip down the wallpaper as you waited for him to come home to you.

the tick of the clock took on a quiet hissing tone, might as well have been a bomb. it didn’t matter how many times it happened, how routine it all had become, it was just the kind of person you were. you felt things deeply, terribly, in every fiber of your being.

but, maybe to your surprise, when the door opened, the house did not explode. spontaneous fire did not consume everything you had built. every picture frame remained, exactly as you had left it.

you wrapped him in your arms before he even had a chance to drop his things on the floor. you felt one of his arms come to wrap around your waist as he shrugged his bag off of his shoulder.

“hey, doll,” he murmured into your hair, hooking his other arm around the back of your neck, his hand bracing your neck. you stood, together, for a moment, just breathing each other in. “you’re nervous,” he said into your neck, no judgement in his voice. just observation. just knowing.

you pulled away just slightly, avoided meeting his gaze head on. “’m not,” you tried, to which he slid one hand to your chin and forced your eyes to meet his, dismissing your lie with the slightest tilt of his head, thumb slowly drawing circles on your jaw.

“why?” he asked simply. as well as you knew him, sometimes you forgot just how well he knew you, too. that you weren’t in this alone. that maybe you didn’t have to trick someone into being with you, that maybe they just wanted to. you were still working on that. you took a breath, shifted your weight on your feet.

“just know you’re hard on yourself,” you admitted to him. “tell me what you’re thinking.”

he hummed, it rumbled from his chest into yours. you gasped as he pulled you flush against him. “can’t think,” he whispered, voice gravelly, “too distracted by how beautiful you look with my number on your back.”

you had forgotten that you were wearing one of his old jerseys. you felt his fingers running over the stitching through the fabric, leaving a breath of a touch on your back underneath. he leaned forward. “you wear this for me, doll?”

your breath was shaky as worry melted away into something else, something much more dangerous, something much more vulnerable. you bit your lip, rested both of your hands on the soft plane of his chest, nodded.

“yeah?” his gaze sunk to your mouth before meeting your eyes again. “so good, doll, ‘m so lucky.” something flared up inside of you, some kind of warning that you tried to push aside.

“please, can i have a kiss?” you practically whispered, pressed your palms harder into his chest. his lips quirked in a slight smile for what felt like the first time that night before he guided your lips to his, still grasping your jaw in his hand.

your chest fluttered in a beautiful sigh, pushing you deeper into the kiss like an encouraging breeze. you felt a prickling sensation fizz around your arms as the wanting welled up inside of you. that’s what it was. the wanting.

his broad hand tangled itself in your hair. you brought your hand up to the side of his face, noticed immediately how he winced, only barely, but enough that you pulled away, willed the wanting to secede, searched his expression as you both observed the other, not touching.

you fixed your gaze on the new stitches on his chin. under your deep observation, he shoved his hands in his pockets. was that embarrassment?

“tell me,” you said softly.

he sighed, silent for a couple beats. “just tired,” he exhaled. “tired of trying so hard just to have everyone take, and take, and take.”

you slotted your own hands in his pockets, too, held onto his fingers, leaned forward into him again. “i don’t want to take from you,” you told him. “i never want to hurt you.” but you wanted him, so deeply and so horridly.

he actually laughed, gave you a smile with teeth. “you, doll? you couldn’t.”

you squeezed his hands. “promise me. promise me you’d tell me if you were hurting.”

he squeezed you back, visibly lighter, face no longer shadowed with concern. “i promise.” he leaned down to your ear. “how could i be hurting with you, here, like this for me?”

you shivered, felt the familiar fear of the want. “like what?”

“mine, doll. all mine.” his grip moved to your wrist. “gonna show me what no one can take from me?”

at your whimper, he whisked you into the bedroom, settled you both on the bed in an air of feverish possession. he pulled you in for another kiss, this time with a wince that he moaned at. you rolled your hips slowly on his lap, felt the slight scratch of his stitches on your chin. you imagined your beast swallowing his pain whole, gulping it down and down until he couldn’t remember it was ever there.

“can feel how wet you are, doll,” he said, pulling away just slightly. “tell me what you want.”

everything you wanted hissed through your mind. you scrunched your eyes shut. surely he could see all your scales now. surely, maybe, it would be fine. “just want to be good for you, quinn,” you confessed to him and some unnamed deity, “just want to feel you inside me.”

he held the side of your face in his hand, tapped one of your eyelids with his thumb. “open.”

you did as told. “don’t hide from me,” he said, little more than a plea. “i’ll never get enough of you wanting me.” you melted as he flipped you around, your cheek pressed into the bed, hips raised up to him. you felt his fingers trace the outline of the number on your back, again, something like a prayer. “never get tired of giving you what you want.” you bit your lip, muffled your moan.

he ran two fingers through your folds, groaned. “too good to me,” he murmured. you heard the rustling of clothes pulled down, aside, the sound of him spitting into his hand before he pumped himself twice, three times. you shifted your hips back, urged him to finally indulge you.

“please, quinn.”

he placed a warm hand on your hip and squeezed. “such good manners, doll,” he praised. then, at last, he pushed himself into you entirely. your back arched, hips tilted up at the fullness you felt. you gathered fistfuls of the sheets in your fists as tension pooled in your lower stomach.

your mouth fell open. “so deep,” you choked out. “feels so good-”

he slowly began to move in and out of you, grip tightening on the soft flesh of your hip, groaned deeply. “this what you wanted, doll?” he bit out. “feel so perfect for me.” his struggle of an inhale and exhale was something of your dreams. “look so beautiful like this.” you pushed your hips back against him, meeting him halfway each time. he picked up the pace, moved the hand on your hip down to your clit, rubbed you perfectly.

time evaporated, but at some point, he grunted. “oh, doll, look,” he rasped. “look at how good you’re being for me.” he tangled his free hand in the hair at the base of your head, pulled you back towards him, forced your gaze up.

you must have left your closet door open, because you found yourself looking into your mirror. you immediately screwed your eyes shut, as if eye contact would turn you both to stone.

he thrusted harder, rubbed you faster, relished in the way you cried out. “open your eyes, doll, look at me,” he willed, roughly, “look at who’s fucking you so good, yeah?” he pulled your hair just a bit harder. you moaned. maybe the force would strangle the snakes. “look,” he ordered.

you did, couldn’t help it, finally opened your eyes and met your own gaze in the mirror, found your head devoid of snakes and your face completely human, maybe even divine - the flush in your cheeks, the swell of your lips. the want was no beast.

even more, you saw him, wanting. the heat in his eyes, the clench of his jaw, the glisten of effort sparkling on his cheekbones, the flex of his stomach and chest as you squeezed him tighter. you couldn’t peel your eyes away.

“oh, doll likes that, hm?” he groaned, “squeeze me so perfect.” you moaned in affirmation. “like to watch me, yeah?”

you nodded, hummed, so, so close. “gonna cum,” you warned, “so close.”

“yeah?” he breathed. “just tell me, doll. tell me what i already know, then i’ll let you cum.”

you whimpered as he rubbed your clit with the heel of his rough palm, clutched at your hair, hips sputtering. you wished you could somehow freeze this image into the mirror forever, to see over and over again. “’m yours, quinn,” you whined, “only yours, always. no one else.”

“know you are, doll,” he groaned. “cum with me.” and with an especially hard thrust, you both reached a high, your chest falling forward onto the bed, clenching around him, him flooding into you with a grunt.

there were no scales, no snakes, the want simply wrapping around you both pleasantly. coexisting with the want. your chests heaved, he pulled you into him, arms firm around you. you rested your head in the pocket between his neck and shoulder. you both rested in a mirroring pocket of blissful silence for many beautiful moments.

“i’ll never be disappointed when i come home,” he eventually muttered into your hair, “as long as i’m coming home to you, doll. to you wanting me.”

you kissed his collarbone. and of course that was enough. of course to want him forever was enough.

fin.

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padfootagain · 1 year

Text

Forbidden Words

Here we go!!!!

We are officially back! I’m very excited for this new beginning, I hope you all enjoy this silly little fic of mine!

We have some hurt/comfort, lots of fluff and cuteness too! You know me, I always write cute things.

I hope you enjoy this fic, and I have to admit that I am quite nervous about posting fics again, so I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a little feedback… please? I hope I’m not too… rusty.

Anyways, enjoy!

****

Sum up : You've been dating Sirius for a while now, and it's been going wonderfully well. However, when you finally confess that you love him, he find himself unable to say it back. It will take time for him to be ready to say these three forbidden words out loud, but if there's someone who can make him overcome his inner demons, it's you.

Pairing : Sirius Black x reader

No warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count : 5800 words

Sometimes it felt a little strange. A little uncommon. A little worrying even.

There was something about unexpected events that always got under your skin, always made you uncomfortable. Even happy accidents could shake a world, and they generally did.

It felt a little strange sometimes, when you looked up to find Sirius sitting on the other side of the table. A little uncommon to find him holding your hand in corridors. A little worrying, even, to see him smile when you knew he was sad. You had learned after a long friendship to see the signs. Detect the small anomaly in his grey eyes, the ghost of a frown he tried to hide. If you could see the signs as a friend, you acted on it now that the two of you were more than that.

It was a happy accident that brought the two of you together. A note sent by a Ravenclaw to another girl that had landed on your desk by accident, and jealousy had done the rest.

But maybe it wasn't just an accident, after all, that pushed Sirius to confess that he liked you, that convinced him to ask you out. Maybe it was simply the last piece of a puzzle fitting with the rest of this long list of signs that should have shaken some sense into him. But whether or not Sirius's decision to ask you out was the result of an accident, it had shaken your world all the same.

A real earthquake that rearranged all the pieces of your life for the better.

And after a few months of relationship, you still had moments when you forgot you were together. Sometimes the brush of his fingers as you walked down a corridor still surprised you. The sight of him sleeping in your arms, the way he called you 'darling' with the softest voice, the way he kissed you out of the blue. As if you needed to be reminded that all this was not a mere dream. Maybe it was because it was all so familiar. Laughing, and talking for hours, and holding him close… it was natural. It felt right. Like you belonged there, with him.

And the more you thought about it, the more you reckoned that this was the true definition of the word everyone talks about but none can truly define. And you understood why. It was a feeling alright, but a feeling that got so entwined with a person, the two became synonyms. It was love. Love was the way Sirius made you feel, and Sirius was love.

You weren't even scared. You were just happy. You were happy it was him, even if the choice would have been unbelievable for a younger version of yourself. One of the famous pranksters? And the one who seemed almost grim, unreachable, with something about him as dark as his name… him?

As you stared at your boyfriend who was laughing at one of Lily's stupid jokes, you wondered why it took you so long to see the real Sirius behind all the rumours that ran across the Castle about him. But then, it wasn't so surprising. Sirius curated his friendships with great care and caution. He had to let you in first for you to discover him. And you were unbelievably glad he had once done so.

You realized then that despite the few months of your relationship passing in a dreamy bliss, none of you had ever said the three little words. You wondered why. Perhaps a part of you was waiting for him to say it first; the part of yourself that lacked confidence. It would explain why you had never spoken those words, even though you had been meaning them for weeks, months even. If you were to be honest about it, you were already in love when the two of you started dating.

And at the beginning you did doubt his feelings a lot. It was easier that way. If things had to go sour, it would be less painful if you expected a disaster in the first place. But by some strange kind of miracle, everything was fine. Outside of Hogwarts, the world was being turned upside-down, but your own little life was kept safe for a while longer. And Sirius was among the brightest suns to lighten the darkening sky.

So why not say it then?

You were aware of his tendency to bottle up all his emotions. The more you thought about it, the more you reckoned that he would not take this first step, even if he felt the same. And judging by the way he made you feel loved and cared for, you had no doubt that your feelings were mutual.

You reckoned it was time to take that jump.

You finished your lunch, laughing with your friends. James was being his ridiculous self, as usual, while Lily tried her best not to laugh too loudly at his antics, failing miserably. Remus and Peter were caught in a heated argument with Dorcas and Marlene about the best Honeydukes sweets, which ended in a ridiculously dramatic exit of the two girls. It was fun and warm and safe here. And all along Sirius's bark-like laugh made your moments even brighter.

After lunch, he accompanied you to your common room before heading to the Quidditch Pitch. The match opposing your two teams was coming up, it was an easy excuse for both of you to tease the other playfully.

"I can't believe you are cruel enough to support the Hufflepuff team when your own boyfriend is playing against them! Your boyfriend!"

"I'm a Hufflepuff. There is no such thing as friendships or love affairs when it comes to Quidditch."

"I feel betrayed."

"Drama queen."

He laughed at that, and you soon joined him. You couldn't help it. His laughter was too contagious.

"And now you insult me!"

"Only stating facts."

"So… does that mean you won't be happy if I win the game? Not even a little bit?"

You easily caved in as he offered you his most mischievous glance.

"Maybe a little bit…"

"Ha! See! Knew it. A traitor to your own house!"

Your joined laughter echoed through the corridors as you reached the door of the Hufflepuff common room.

"Practice well. Cause if you lose, I will tease you about it mercilessly for months," you warned him, and even though your tone was still humorous, he knew you were not truly joking.

"Better work extra hard then, ‘cause we can't have that."

He leaned down to kiss you, and you welcomed his lips halfway.

"I'll see you after dinner?"

"Your common room?"

He nodded, a grin on his face as he was about to turn around and leave.

But you held him back, crashing your lips together for another kiss. Because you were alone in this corridor and so you reckoned that this moment was as good as any to finally say it.

You gathered every last ounce of your courage while you held him tight, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. He chuckled, the vibrations of his laugh echoing in your whole body.

"Someone's extra needy today, huh?" he teased, although he held you with the same tender embrace.

You took a deep breath and dived. But your voice could only come out as a whisper.

"That's because I love you."

You waited for his answer. You waited. But only silence came.

At last, he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and you thought he would say it back. But when he spoke again it was as if he hadn't heard you at all.

"Have to go to practice. I'll see you tonight."

And with that he strode away, and disappeared.

Sirius was pacing. He was holding a quaffle in his hands, making it twirl or holding it too tightly. He was pacing, back and forth across the boys’ dormitory while Remus, Peter and James looked at him with worried looks painted on their faces.

They knew what this was about. They knew the reason for his pacing, for the way he held the quaffle as if he wanted to crush it between his palms, for the tears that threatened to escape and for his ragged breathing.

He had told them about your confession. He had told them that he didn’t say a word.

And he was an idiot. A bloody idiot that was what he was. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight it, couldn’t do anything at all about it. The mere thought of speaking out loud these three words made his throat tighten, his heart speed up enough to come close to exploding.

Oh, he could think about the words. He loved you. That was easy enough to admit to himself, but say it out loud? That was a whole other story.

And his friends knew perfectly why Sirius couldn’t speak, why he was on the verge of crying at the mere thought of it. The answer was obvious. But would you understand? You didn’t know him the way his friends did…

“I’m an idiot,” Sirius repeated for the hundredth time. “I’m… I don’t even know what I am at this point? But there’s no way I can say it back… I can’t do it!”

“Pads, you need to calm down,” James instructed his friend as he stood up to force Sirius to sit down on his bed.

“Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? I’m fucking it all up! I finally have a great relationship, it’s all going brilliantly… It’s more than brilliant even! Bloody perfect! And then…”

He threw the quaffle against the wall in frustration.

He looked at the ball rolling on the ground for a moment, until it came to a stop. He heaved a sigh then, and buried his face in his hands.

“They really are going to just… ruin every single good thing in my life. Even when I finally think that I’m out of this mess…”

“Hey, don’t say that,” James rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Remus and Peter walked to their friends to sit by their side on Sirius’s bed.

“You’re free now, Padfoot,” James reassured him. “You ran away from this hellish place. You have nothing left to do with them. It’s over. You have your own family now.”

“You have us,” Peter agreed.

“And you have Y/N. You should just… tell her about this,” Remus advised.

“Easier said than done,” Sirius mumbled, finally letting his hand fall to reveal his face again.

He was paler than usual, but there were no tears, or any sign of panic on his face.

“She loves you. She told you so! You should explain it all to her, I’m sure she would understand,” Peter encouraged his friend.

“How?”

“She knows already that your family sucks. Bastards, all of them,” spat James.

“She knows some of it, not all of it,” Sirius corrected him. “She knows I ran away because of the way they treated me, she knows I live with you now. But she doesn’t know what happened. She doesn’t know why I can’t say it back.”

“Then explain it to her. She’s sweet. And as Wormtail just said, she loves you. She’ll get it. As long as you explain it to her, show her that you care… she’ll understand.”

But Sirius was not convinced.

“I’m not sure I can explain it either. I haven’t talked about it in a while.”

Silence settled upon the room. Three friends looking for a way out, a defeated boy struggling against his old demons - the ones he had thought banished for good – sitting between them.

“What if you write it down?”

Sirius looked up at Remus, frowning but not rejecting the idea just yet.

“I don’t think I can write… it down either,” Sirius finally argued.

“But the reason why you can’t express it at all? Do you think you could answer that question on paper?”

Sirius contemplated the offer for a moment, before shrugging.

“I can try.”

“Maybe he simply didn’t hear me.”

Dorcas and Marlene exchanged an unconvinced glance, but didn’t dare to argue. They didn’t want to break your heart. And besides, they didn’t really understand either why Sirius had not said these three little words back. It was obvious that he was head over heels for you, no mystery there. So… why not say it back? If you had taken the first step, why not say that he felt the same, when he clearly did?

“Maybe I should try again.”

“Maybe he wasn’t ready?” Dorcas offered an explanation with all the caution she could muster. She didn’t want to make you suffer even more than you already did.

“You think so?” you asked with a shaky voice.

“Well… you know how Sirius can be sometimes,” Marlene added. “He does have a tendency to… bottle it all up. You know?”

“Yeah… that’s true.”

“His parents fucked up with his head. I think that… since then… he has a lot of trouble talking about his feelings.”

“But I thought he loved me…”

“Oh, he does,” Dorcas reassured you, and she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “He’s crazy about you.”

“Then why not say it? I don’t get it. He just… walked away.”

“That… was a mistake.”

“It was.”

“But there’s no need to be dramatic about this, you should simply talk about it with him.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, your voice firmer than before as you finally sat up on your bed and traded your sad eyes for an expression filled with determination. “I’m going to go see him. I’ll say I love him again, and this time, there will be no chance for him not to hear me. And if he doesn’t say anything again, I’ll ask him why.”

“That… was not exactly the plan we had come up with…”

“And I won’t cry!”

“That part is great! Keep that part of the plan! For the rest…”

“I’ll do it now!”

You stood up before your friends could stop you.

“Don’t you think you should wait for Lily to be back from her prefect meeting? I mean… she’s kind of the wise one in the group,” Dorcas argued, but you weren’t listening anymore.

No, instead, you were striding across your common room, and you opened the door wide to step in the corridor.

You were determined. A strong, independent and determined young woman. You could do it.

But you had barely reached the corner of the corridor that led to the magical staircase that you bumped right into Sirius…

“Ouch…” you mumbled, suddenly trapped in Sirius embrace.

“You’re okay?” he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

“Yeah. You?”

“I play beater, remember?”

“You’ve got a point.”

You couldn’t refrain a smile, even if you were upset, and neither could he. You remained like this for a moment, standing still in the corridor while you stared at each other. A long moment passed, filled with silence and the way Sirius made butterflies gather in your stomach. He did so every time he was close, every time he stared at you like this… every time…

“I love you.”

You spoke them out loud again. The three words. Three marvellous, meaningful, forbidden words…

Sirius didn’t say anything, he merely closed his eyes with a pained expression painted all over his features.

You were ready to cry.

“So… you did hear me, earlier. The first time I said it, you did hear me.”

Slowly, in silence, Sirius nodded.

“You just don’t feel the same…”

He opened his eyes again, frowning hard.

“No… that’s not that at all.”

“But you’re not saying it back.”

“I know.”

“Because you’re not ready?”

He shook his head, clenching his jaw.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“You want to break up with me?”

“What?!” he looked at you as if you had gone mad all of a sudden, and there was also a hint of fear in his grey eyes. “Of course I don’t want to break up with you, are you crazy?”

“I don’t get it then…”

He finally let go of you, reached for something in the back pocket of his trousers.

He handed you a folded piece of parchment, and you frowned at him. But you took the note anyway. Looking at it more closely, you noticed that it was a letter.

“I… I really struggle with… these things,” Sirius tried to explain everything, but the words stumbled from his mouth and came out all wrong and distorted and clumsily spoken. “So… thought I… could try to explain by writing it down. It was Moony’s idea, actually. Not sure it worked that well. But I… did my best, I guess…”

You made a movement to open the letter, but he stopped you before you could unfold the parchment.

“Wait, don’t… not… not while I’m here. You… you can read it on your own, I don’t want to see you read it. I’ll be in the Gryffindor common room. I’ll wait for you. You… you read this, and you take some time to think. I’ll wait. All night long, if you need it.”

Before you could protest, he had turned around and was disappearing again.

You spent a long time on your own. You had hidden yourself in your favourite spot, a small gap between a statue and the wall of an alcove on the third floor. You could be alone there, no one could see you from the corridor. Only Sirius knew about that hiding spot, and you didn’t want to be disturbed. You needed to think. You needed some time to assimilate all the information Sirius had entrusted in you.

He didn’t go into details. You reckoned he never would. You had understood a long time ago that his parents had done terrible things to him. That his life at Grimmauld Place was hell. But he had revealed, through this letter, a few glimpses into his childhood, and you didn’t know what to do with it all. What to do with the knowledge of so much undeserved pain?

It explained why he didn’t speak out the words you longed to hear though. Why these three little words were banished from his mouth, if not from his heart. Why he couldn’t gather the strength to explain it all in person. You understood, or well… you didn’t understand what he had been through, but you could fathom why he carried the struggles and pain he kept carefully hidden.

No details in this letter of his, mere fragments in an attempt to explain it all, to make you understand, even if just a little bit. He was scared to lose you. The feeling oozed from every line traced in dark ink, appeared behind every word.

The final explanation was enough to sum it all up.

They never said these words to me, and I’ve never told them to anyone either. Worst, they changed the meaning of these words I longed to hear to make them feel like pain.

I can’t say it. I can’t write it down. It needs to fully change back into its original meaning first. But I do care. I do want to be with you. I just… can’t express it right.

You brushed a tear before it would escape your eye as you read the last words of his letter one more time.

Forgive me.

You shook your head, before standing up, and finally walking down the corridor towards the Gryffindor tower.

What a silly boy he was, sometimes…

Sirius had remained awake most of the night. He thought at first that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, but then exhaustion caught up with him. He did go to Quidditch practice for over two hours after all. That, and the emotional tiredness that day had brought him… it weighed too much on him to stay up all night. He fell in Morpheus’ arms around midnight, without noticing.

When you walked in the room, he was there. None of you had gone to eat dinner in the Great Hall, you could see the half-full plate the boys must have brought up for Sirius while he waited for you. You felt bad for taking so much time to think.

He seemed peaceful when he slept. Long dark hair a mess, half-hiding his face. Breathing soft, gentle, steady. Eyelashes drawing two dark lines above sharp cheekbones.

You loved him. It was enough.

You picked up a blanket from one of the armchairs along with a cushion. You lifted his head with caution, trying not to wake him up as you put the cushion under him to get him more comfortable. You covered him with the blanket to keep him warm. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

You brushed away from his eyes a few strands of hair, gesture tender and gentle, before dropping a kiss to his cheek and turning to leave.

You were stopped before you could take a step towards the door, fingers wrapping around yours.

When you turned back towards Sirius, he was rubbing his eyes, trying to chase away the remnants of sleep that lingered there.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled, his voice made rough and deep by sleep. “Have you read the letter?”

“Yes, I did.”

He sat up, moving so you could sit by his side on the couch.

“Are you mad?” he asked, his voice shaky.

But you rested your head on his shoulder, and he felt reassured all of a sudden.

“Of course not. I’m not mad at all. I mean… not at you. I think I could commit a murder though. Several, actually.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around you to pull you close, and you melted in his embrace.

“That’s… kind of hot. Not gonna lie.”

It was your time to laugh.

“I thought you would be mad,” he admitted after a short silence.

“Of course not. It’s okay. Nothing to forgive. I understand. I’ll wait. All the time you need. And if you never feel ready, that’s okay too. I know I’m not the problem, it’s them.”

“I feel like… like I’m failing you.”

“Of course not. Don’t feel like that, okay?”

“You should be able to hear it…”

“It’s okay. Now that I know, I don’t mind at all. I promise.”

He leaned down to kiss you, and you welcomed his lips with relief. Things were back to normal again.

“Can I ask you one more question?”

Sirius gave you a warm smile, and merely nodded as an answer. He brushed his knuckles across your cheek in a tender gesture.

“You said that… they have never told you they loved you… is it true?”

“I mean… They don’t. Love me. Why would they lie?”

“Right…”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re the first to speak these words to me.”

“I’m the first? Ever?”

“To really mean it? Yeah… you’re the first.”

“But James…”

“The boys are my family, but we don’t confess our undying love towards each other on a daily basis, and certainly not so… plainly.”

You played with the collar of his white shirt. His tie was long gone, his sleeves rolled up along his forearms, the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

“Do you mind if I say it again, every once in a while?” you asked after some time.

“I won’t be able to say it back. Not for now.”

“I get it. That’s okay.”

“Then… if you don’t mind that I can’t say it back… Of course, I don’t mind. It’s a nice thing to hear. The best thing, actually.”

The two of you exchanged a smile, and you lost your gaze to the flames dancing in the hearth before you while Sirius dropped a kiss to your forehead.

Yes, things were back to normal.

And you loved him. It was enough.

A few more months passed; it was the beginning of Spring. Or rather, the end of Winter.

Snow had melted, the grass was green and muddied by the heavy rains. Skies grey and trees covered in boughs. It was the beginning of a new cycle filled with life. Soon, it would be warm enough to spend afternoons on the grounds, help Hagrid with his garden, wonder through the woods where it was forbidden to go.

But for now, the sky was grey still, a rainy afternoon during which the droplets fell with a rhythmic pattern against the windowpanes. You studied hard with your friends, even though Sirius and James were less and less focused as the afternoon passed by.

It was that afternoon that something finally clicked in your brain, and you realized what had been right before you for a long, long time.

You had to refill your bottle of ink, but were too lazy to get up and walk all the way across the Gryffindor common room to get your bag. You were too comfortable sitting there, legs crossed on the warm carpet before the fire, your back resting against Sirius’s arm.

You turned your head to check how much ink was left in your bottle, but frowned at the sight.

The bottle was full.

You looked around, spotted an empty bottle next to Sirius’s bag. He had replaced your bottle with one of his own. You smiled at the sight, ready to discard the act as a cute attention from your boyfriend when you realized that Sirius had not said a word about it.

He had replaced the bottle in silence, as if he expected you wouldn’t notice. And the more you thought about it, the more you could think of many occurrences of these sweet attentions. Little acts of care and kindness he performed without having you asking for it, without bringing it up, almost hoping you wouldn’t notice it at all.

Like… the way he always carried the heavy piles of books you burrowed on a weekly basis to the library. The way he brought you your favourite cookie every Wednesday after your arithmancy class because you had a long afternoon that day and he knew you were craving for sugar after so many classes. The way he picked up your scarf and folded it back into your bag whenever you forgot it, which happened very often. The way he handed you one of his hairbands when you were nervous and started fidgeting. The way he gave you extra chips at lunch because he knew how much you loved these. The way he…

… the way he loved you.

As you stared at this ordinary bottle of ink, all the pieces suddenly started to fit together.

He loved you. Truly. He couldn’t say it, but he showed it instead. He had always done so, for months. You should have understood it before…

When the bottle of ink was empty, Sirius almost threw it away, but you stopped him, filling it again instead with some new ink. Your boyfriend raised a surprised eyebrow.

“If you want to reuse the same bottle each time from now on, you need to buy a proper one at least…”

“No, I keep this one.”

“It’s… just a bottle. Why would you keep this one?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

He chuckled mockingly, shaking his head.

“You’re mad.”

But as he turned around, faking to look for something in his bag, you did notice the tip of his ears turning red…

You were both drunk, but Sirius was drunk. You… you had just overcome the stage of tipsiness, but were not full-blown drunk yet. Sirius was though.

Nothing surprising. The last match of the season was over. Gryffindor 190 – Slytherin 60. A celebration was in order, and the Marauders were not ones to fail their reputation, especially when it came to celebrating winning the Quidditch cup.

It had been a fun evening, but it was time to call it a night. At least, it was for you. Many of your friends were still celebrating in the common room, but you pulled Sirius up to his feet and helped him up the stairs to his dormitory despite his protests.

“You’re very drunk, that’s enough,” you admonished.

He tried to argue, but you pushed him down on his bed. He groaned, making you laugh.

“You’re evil.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Very much so, I’ll admit…”

Alcohol made his words slow and slurred. His voice was deeper too, which made you blush uncontrollably. Luckily, Sirius was too drunk to notice your reaction and tease you about it.

“Come on, you need a good night of sleep,” you admonished. “I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re sober enough to get up on your own again by then.”

But he stopped you as you walked towards the door.

“No! Stay! I’m not even sleepy.”

“You can’t even keep your eyes properly opened.”

“I can! I don’t want you to go. Stay. Stay for the night.”

“Babe… that’s against the rules.”

“Who caaaaaares?” he whined, and you could hear in his voice that he was rolling his eyes.

“You’re drunk. Nothing is going to happen tonight.”

“I mean… I wanted cuddles, but if you want more… I’m all for it.”

You laughed, but complied anyway. You always caved in, after all.

“Alright, just cuddles. Move over.”

He grinned up at you and soon you were lying with him, holding him close. He soon closed his eyes.

When he spoke, his voice was a mere whisper, already half drowned in sleep and slowed down by the liquor.

“You know… I can’t say it but… I do feel like that. I feel the same. I feel like that for you. Like… a lot. An awful lot.”

You didn’t need any more explanation to know perfectly well what Sirius meant, what he was talking about. You smiled the brightest of smiles.

“I love you too, Sirius.”

But he had already drifted to sleep…

It was your last evening at Hogwarts.

The NEWTs were over, the year had gone by too quickly. It was the beginning of Summer. Or rather, the end of Spring.

Clouds had lifted, the grass was green and dry and soft, just the way you loved it. Flowers grew over slopes and bushes and trees had found back their glorious shades of green.

It was a happy season, with sunlight and laughter. But it was coming to an end.

You would not be back at Hogwarts. It was your last day. And you felt sad about it. The next day, you would carry your suitcase for the last time to the train station, and take the Hogwarts Express never to come back home.

But rather than to spend your last day being depressed, your friends had planned a series of festivities and games to make sure that your last memories in the Castle would be worth remembering. And they succeeded. None of you would ever forget this day. Pranks rained over the Castle, last gifts from the infamous Marauders. Parties, and games all afternoon. So much laughter, enough to fill up entire rooms.

It had been magical, and you were thankful to have encountered such a happy mess of people during your stay in this school.

Outside, the world was dangerous and uncertain and dark. But you had been granted one last day under the sun, and you reckoned that it was enough for now. It would be enough to get by for a while; for as long as you needed to endure to see the sun shine brightly again.

Dinner was over, and you were taking a walk with Sirius across the grounds. It was past curfew, but you weren’t worried about being caught. You doubted any teacher would tell you anything, let alone punish you on your last evening.

You sat down together by the shores of the quiet lake. Above your heads, the night sky wore stars by the hundreds, the thousands even. You could guess the purple shades of the Milky Way far above. There was no moon, but there were so many stars shining that night that it didn’t really matter.

Sirius stared at you while you watched the sky, the two of you wrapped in a comfortable silence; this intimate kind of quiet that made him feel safe and warm. He stared at you, with your head thrown back to look up at the shining lights, and the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He wished he could stop time for a while, so he could keep on admiring you like this. A simple moment that made his heart swell like never before.

You had a talent, really, to make the world brighter. A real earthquake that had reorganized his life for the better. You had shaken all his boundaries, all the darkest parts of his mind, to shade a bright hope on his life. One day, he would heal. He believed in that now. He had started to believe he could escape his family when he found his brothers. Then he found you, and you promised him something that even his best friends could not have granted him: hope for peace and quiet.

He smiled at the thought. Most people would not think of peace and quiet when thinking about his plans after Hogwarts. Joining the fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Buy that motorcycle he had been dreaming about for months. And build a home with you that he would fill with his leather jackets, his rock music and his bark-like laughter.

It would be quiet though. In his mind and heart, it would be peaceful, like never before. Because he would move in with you, in this apartment you had already found together, and it would be a home. A brand-new home, just for the two of you, where your friends – your family – would always be welcome. A home with you.

He was sad to leave Hogwarts and all the wonderful memories he had gathered along the years, but he was excited too. It was a brand-new chapter in a book he would keep on writing with you. And it felt right. Like he belonged wherever you were.

And the more he thought about it, the more he reckoned that this was the true definition of the word everyone talks about but none can truly define. And he understood why. It was a feeling alright, but a feeling that got so entwined with a person, the two became synonyms. It was love. Love was the way you made him feel, and you were love.

When the words finally formed on his tongue, he found that he was ready. You had rewritten their meaning.

“I love you, Y/N.”

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