#-wrong tense/person sometimes. don’t know what’s up with that. just another reason i need to stop speaking altogether. as i’ve learned

[seventh-district]

.

[farfromstrange]

Enduring | Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Warnings: Angst, chronic (lower abdominal) pain, mentions of spotting (blood), self-loathing, allusions to Doctors Not Listening To Patients With A Uterus, health anxiety (warranted), non-sexual intimacy, hurt/comfort, self-indulgent, not proof-read

Summary: You’ve been experiencing chronic lower abdominal pain for years regardless of the point in your menstrual cycle. Some days, it’s worse than others, but when the first heatwave of the year hits New York City and you have another flare-up, your day takes a sudden turn for the worse. Thankfully, Matt is there to comfort you in any way he can.

WC: 3k

A/n: Even though I tagged my tag list, don't read if this could be triggering to you! So, I know pain is a very sensitive subject and everyone experiences it differently. I used my personal experience with pain and chasing a diagnosis to write this. That doesn’t mean it’s the only experience. Lower abdominal pain can have many causes, which is why advice from a medical professional is often necessary. That being said, I know how hard it can be to have been born into a female body and be treated like my pain is worth less for whatever reason just because I was born female. There is no shame in standing up for yourself in a man’s world that completely disregards women’s health. I had to learn it the hard way to the point it has taken a toll on my mental health, so I just needed to write a little comfort piece for my own peace of mind before my appointment on Monday. I wrote this for the sake of getting it out of my system, meaning it’s probably not perfect, but if you can relate to what I said in any way, feel free to read it and make up your own mind. (I will not be posting this on AO3 for now. I hope you can forgive me for that.)

Matt always knows when something is wrong with you. 

Sometimes, he can smell it. Other times, it’s the way you taste when you kiss him or the sweat that clings to your skin, or when he goes down on you and your essence is slightly tangier than it was the day before. 

Matt knows when you’re ovulating because the changes in your hormones make him go crazier than he already is for you, and he is familiar with the metallic scent of blood when you’re on your period. He can tell when you start sweating more often, when your muscles tense up more than usual, or when you are slightly more emotional. He knows before you even do because he has to. 

You are miserable almost every day, really, but more often than not it happens around the time of your period. So, he pays close attention to the signs. When the painkillers stop working, or when you get more tired, or when you stop moving around as much. When you tell him you’re fine even though he can feel the muscles of your abdomen tensing under his touch when he hugs you. When he can tell you have been crying and he wasn’t there to help. He has to know because you need him. 

You’re not entirely dependent on him, of course; you have lived on your own before and while it was hell, you pushed through somehow. With him, you don’t have to be alone on the days you can’t get out of bed because the pain keeps you locked in a fetal position, or on the days you have to cower on the bathroom floor until you’re too weak to move. Matt has reached a point of knowing you where his four working senses don’t play much of a role in telling what kind of a day you’re having; he just knows. 

Tonight, he senses it when he comes through the door after work, finally escaping the raging heat from the streets that made him feel like he was dying on the commute home. He instantly loosens his tie to get some air into his lungs, feeble fingers working desperately to free himself, but it doesn’t take a second longer for him to realize something is wrong. It is nothing but a mere hunch—some kind of aura that emits from somewhere in the apartment that makes the hairs on his arms stand up. He calls your name, frantically searching for your heartbeat. Through the rattling of the fridge as it tries to keep up with the rising temperatures inside, he makes out the rapid drumming of your heart against your ribcage. If you’re not dizzy yet, he thinks, you soon will be. 

Upon hearing you huff from the kitchen floor, Matt doesn’t hesitate tossing his bag mindlessly into the nearest corner, followed by his keys before he makes his way to find you. He’s overheated, itchy, and sweating through his clothes, but not anywhere near as desperate as he is to get to you. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks.

Hearing the sound of his voice, you realize that what felt like five minutes must have been hours spent on the cool kitchen floor. You can’t even remember how you got there. The hours have blended into minutes, the tiles digging into your sweat-coated skin. You’re curled up in a ball, wearing nothing but one of Matt’s loosest shirts. You couldn’t stand the feeling of a waistband around your stomach, so you took your pants off, changing into the oldest pair of cotton underwear you could find. It’s all soaked by now, and part of you wonders if you did finally get your period or if your pores just decided to drench you for the fun of it. 

Everything hurts. Your muscles are tense, yet at the same time they are so incredibly weak, you don’t react when the front door opens. He’s worried, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It is as though the pain has made you entirely apathetic, coiling in your lower stomach and spreading into your legs like a parasite. All you can do is succumb to it. 

Matt’s feet come into view. The purple cast of the billboard outside falls upon him, painting the shadow of a halo above his head. It’s ironic, really; the man you love as your knight in shining armor, a Catholic looking like an angel in artificial neon light. 

His gentle voice reaches for you, “What’re you doing on the floor?”

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay because he knows it is futile, but even that question you don’t know how to answer. What are you doing on the dirty kitchen floor?

You clear your throat, trying to sound nonchalant when you answer, “It’s too hot up there.”

He crouches down. “Just too hot?”

You sigh. “No.”

It was a good day until it wasn’t, and then you were in pain again and all the days you spent feeling a little more like yourself are suddenly gone with the wind. The tears wrap a noose around your neck for the second time today, your eyes burning with faint resistance. Every time you think it gets better, it gets worse again. And every time you try to pretend that maybe things are looking up for you and it isn’t as endless of a pit as you thought, the exact opposite proves itself. You’re tired; you’re in pain and you’re tired and you feel so silly for letting it dim the light Natt pointed out a few days ago that he had so deeply missed, but there is only so much hope you can have.  

This isn’t the first time he has found you like this, but it truly never gets easier. Hearing the strain in your voice, the quiver in your entire being as you try to catch your breath, telling yourself not to fucking cry. It never gets easier to know how much you beat yourself up for something that isn’t your fault. Because the doctors that were supposed to listen failed you, and now the road to relief is paved with bricks you can barely climb over. You are on your way now, finally, but the future is still not certain. In the end though, what kills him the most is that he can’t help you. 

Matt reaches out, his hand shaking as he aimlessly brushes his fingers over your forehead. “Cramps?” he says.

You nod weakly. 

“Since when?”

“I don’t know,” you confess, and that is when the glass overflows. 

With a click of his tongue, he wipes the first of your tears away. His brown eyes bore into your soul, completely bare in front of him. Your body is like a complex crafted melody only he knows how to decipher.  

The tears quickly form a barrier between you and the tiles. Matt tilts his head. The faintest hint of copper clings to your skin. “Did you get your period?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Just… some spotting.”

“Explains the blood.”

He is way too nonchalant about it, you think. The way he accepts your version of normal even though you feel like a failure trapped in a body that refuses to work like it is supposed to.

“How’d you get here?” he asks again, his voice so soft you want nothing more than to hide your face from him and cry some more. 

He refuses to let you go, gripping your chin to the point it almost hurts. “I was trying to do the dishes and then–” a broken sob gets stuck in your throat. “It hurts and it’s hot, and I can’t breathe.”

He gently cradles your face in his hands. “I know,” he says like he can read your mind. And maybe he can.

Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “I couldn’t stand anymore, so I laid down. On the floor,” you tell him. “I just… I didn’t get anything done today.”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“It does. I–”

He cuts you off, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t. I can wash the dishes, but I can’t replace you.”

His dedication hurts. You used to be called sensitive and not worth the drama, but with him, you count, and that hurts because you are barely hanging on by a fragile thread. You don’t know how to ever give back to him what he has given you. The countless nights you patched him up after he got his ass handed to him do not seem to matter much compared to what he does for you. 

He studies your erratic heartbeat for a moment. “You want a heating pad?” he offers. 

You physically cringe at the thought of a hot water bottle when the entire city could function as one, and you are quick to deny, “Too hot.”

Matt chuckles. “Yeah, I figured.” He brushes a damp strand of hair away from your face. “Have you taken anything yet? Advil? Naproxen?”

You growl. “You know none of the pills they gave me fucking work!” 

He doesn’t seem deterred by your tone. All he does is smile softly at you, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your skin.

“I know,” he says. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, nothing’s helping,” you retort. 

“That why you’re lying on the floor?” 

Another tear rolls down your cheek and past your cracked lips. “I told you. Nothing helps.”

Snapping at him for only trying to care may be petty of you, but there is nothing you loathe more than feeling so utterly helpless. 

Matt moves closer, your words pearling off of him like he is made of stone. He doesn’t even flinch. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Can I try something else?”

The voice in your head is screaming, what else is there to do? You are tired of trying everything and nothing ever working. Two more weeks until you will meet with a new doctor, but those two weeks might actually kill you. That’s what it feels like, anyway. 

He sighs, “C’mere.” Without another word from you, Matt slides his arms under your sticky frame and lifts you off the ground. His skin offers a stark contrast from the cold kitchen tiles, but he’s clean, and he smells like home. Not this place, not this city, but him. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Bathroom,” is all he tells you. 

Your brain is too slow to even dare protest. He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on unsteady legs. 

“May I?” he asks. You nod, but even as he pulls his shirt over your head, he doesn’t once let go of you. 

You close your eyes. The pain in your abdomen is dull yet searing. You try to focus on anything else, but just when you think it’s getting better, it breaks through again, burning through you like a wildfire on the blade of a hot knife. And that makes you sad. It makes you so sad and angry you don’t know what to do with yourself. You want to scream and cry and tear the apartment apart, but you’re exhausted and tired and you know that if this pain keeps rippling through you, you might fall apart. 

You hate when he sees you like this. When you’re falling apart and there’s nothing either of you can do, and you blame yourself even though there is nothing to blame yourself for. Matt knows that. You sometimes wonder if you are a burden to him and he just won’t tell you because he doesn’t know when to stop. To stop caring, to stop helping, to stop trying to change everything. But then again, he has always told you that loving you isn’t a burden. If you get lost in the what ifs, you might actually fall apart.    

“I’m gonna start a cool bath,” Matt murmurs next to you, snapping you out of your thoughts with his gentle baritone of a voice. “Just stay here.” 

You nod weakly, too exhausted to argue. The thought of immersing yourself in cool water, even for a few minutes, seems like a small mercy. 

Water starts to run in the distance. His belt hits the floor, followed by the fabric clinging to his skin. You’re afraid you might get dizzy if you open your eyes. Dizzy because of the pain. Dizzy because of him. 

The cabinet behind you rattles when he reaches for it. “Claire gave them to me, but you took these before,” he says, skillfully working on the cap of an orange capsule. “They’re a bit stronger than Advil.”

You don’t protest, you simply let him place one of the pills in the palm of your hand. He is right behind you with his hand on your waist when you take them, swallowing with a handful of water. There’s nothing sexual in the way he touches you, just a tenderness born from years of knowing each other’s bodies inside and out. 

Maybe that is why you could never be a burden to him; he has felt like one for most of his life, and the last thing he wants is for his love to feel the same way. And he needs you to remind him that he is everything to you, too, his hands never wavering when they find your skin. You’re his lifeline as much as he is yours.

The cold water hits the inside of the bathtub, pattering down like raindrops on a windowpane. Matt gently tugs you closer to him and guides you toward the tub. At first, when he lifts you in, the cool water is a shock to your overheated skin, but it doesn’t take long for you to welcome the change in temperature. 

He eases you between his legs once he is sat, your back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. His hands come to rest on your lower stomach, close enough to allow you to pull your legs up to your chest. It’s the only position that doesn’t hurt. 

You remember nights spent crammed in the same position, not because of you but because of his nightmares. The roles were reversed then. When it’s too hot outside, he needs the world on fire to burn a little less bright. Today, you finally realize what he must feel like on days like these. 

“How’s that?” he asks, his breath warm against your ear.

You nod. “Better,” you whisper. Better isn’t perfect, but the pain is just dull now, and the gentle movement of his fingers against your sore muscles lulls you into a state where you can breathe. It’s not perfect, but it is as good as it gets. 

Your head falls back against his collarbone. “Thank you,” your voice is barely above a whisper when you tell him.

He shushes you, lips moving to your temple. The gesture is supposed to say, don’t thank me. But it feels wrong not to. 

You lift your head enough to look at him, finally, your eyes fluttering open to look back into his hazel orbs. “Matt…” 

“Yeah?” he breathes. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” you confess. It’s a truth you’ve grappled with, the stark realization that his presence has become indispensable. It is a burden, to be loved so fiercely, as much as it is an addiction. Because a life without him seems like a sheer impossibility you don’t ever want to face again. 

Matt holds his lips against your skin, smiling. “Good thing you never have to find out, hm?”

You chuckle weakly. “You sure about that?”

“Mhm.”

“What if you get sick of me?”

“Then I’ll be sick of you for a few hours,” he says, “and you’ll be sick of me ‘til we’re not.”

Your eyes roam his face for any indication that he might not be telling the truth. “That easy?” you ask. 

He nods, fingers coming up to find your lips. He touches them for a moment, exploring the soft skin there. Instead of kissing you though, he halts.

“What?” You frown. 

Matt shakes his head. “Nothing. Just… You’re gonna be okay,” his voice is barely above a whisper. “I’ll make sure of that.”

A whimper breaks from your chest. He believes it wholeheartedly, but it is incredibly hard to hear it out loud because you don’t believe it. You press your lips together, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over again. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way,” you whisper. “I wish I could be… normal.”

Again, he nods, fingers brushing over your cheek to catch a stray tear. “You are normal,” he insists softly. “Your pain doesn’t make you any less. And ‘cause I know how strong you are, I know you’re gonna be okay.”

“Even if I’ll be ill for the rest of my life? Even if I–”

“Of course,” he stops you. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. I promise. Not ‘even if’ but regardless of whether it’s endometriosis or… or something else. Your pain is a part of you, but it’s not all of you. I love all of you.”

There is no stopping the avalanche of tears that is forced down the hill by his words. They hit you harder than an arrow to the heart. 

You crack under the weight of your emotions. “I love you,” you whisper. Those three words mean the world, but they feel inadequate to describe what you feel. 

“I know,” says Matt. “I love you too.”

The once open wounds of the blood you shed just to find him are nothing but scars now—scars you can learn how to live with once you accept that there is nothing wrong with you. Being a human being with an illness, both mentally and physically, doesn’t make you any less worthy of love. It doesn’t make you any less worthy of life. 

With Matt by your side, you are no longer alone in this. You have him, all of him, and that makes all the difference. 

Matt Murdock (Angst) Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @abucketofweird

Also tagging: @moncherriis

[ughtyrell]

Ollie's lies were true AU

A fic I tried writing a year ago but has been rotting in my drive rotting unfinished. Haven't gotten around to re-watching Saltburn but I'll post this.

AU where all Olivers lies were the truth but addicts are the greatest liars when the people around them try to expose their actions.

What people who don’t deal with drug addiction surrounding them realize is, it’s not always black and white.

Even drug addicts can pull themselves together for short periods of time. They can be great at that as a matter of fact. Suddenly the house filled with disorienting music, trashed hallways and dishes laying around are clean. The ugly smell of chemicals from mum’s pipe is replaced with the fresh chemical smell of cleaning supplies.

Mum who was on the couch with a cigarette dangling dangerously from her fingertips yesterday, looking glazed and almost corpse like, has a pep in her step. Even if that’s mostly to her taking an upper instead of a downer than anything else. A smile on her face that’s ready to fool whoever she deemed worthy enough of to put on an act for.

Be that a concerned family member, just checking in darling, worried about you and the kid. To school faculty who have told Oliver multiple times that a parent needs to come in for a meeting. Or if it's easier we can make an exception and come to your residence? That is usually a good enough reason for mum to put on the mask of a proper mother. Or at least one that isn't a total mess that should have had me taken away years ago. Speaking of which. Another worthy of her act are social workers. Not that they ever do much. They see me breathing and looking relatively fine then that's good enough for those bunch.

Though I can assume that when you've never experienced it personally, it would be hard and not something a person could quite grasp. Especially when drugs and addiction is so demonized. A drug addict, you'd imagine a run down house, living in their own mess and barely lucid. You might not even be wrong, that might be the case most of the time. Though people would be surprised how clean addicts could get sometimes. Like my mum, when she suddenly has these cleaning fits that have her pacing around the house and deep cleaning everything, yelling at me to fucking do something to help. Maybe my mum is just strange for an addict. But it keeps our house in Prescot looking decent and presentable.

Back to it being hard for someone not witnessing the situation first hand to see past the act and lies. I guess I could understand that seeing my mum, dressed in nice proper clothes, seemingly lucid and voice welcoming and kind, would make you doubt or immediately believe anything I might have told you about her be a load of horse shit.

Still. It never stops the dread and betrayal when people take what they're seeing at face value without evening attempting to see through it. But it would've been nice to see someone at least try. To not immediately dismiss any suspicion that they might have had. To not just think to themselves, oh well things look fine, maybe I was just over thinking. Or, the kid was lying, of course he's lying kids always lie.

It would've been nice if Felix was different like that.

But alas, mum's flawless show has once again left me looking like a fool. A liar.

The tense ride back to Saltburn was suffocating. Going over how to explain this all to Felix in a way that he could understand, that could make him see past the facade he just saw. But how do I say all this? To make someone like Felix listen and understand? That the woman he just saw wasn't and isn't the woman I've grown up with all my life? That of course she was going to be on her best behavior if you've given her plenty of time to put on the mask and make sure everything is seemingly perfect?

That I don't even know the man who was sitting in our living room? Probably a man that mum seduced soon after my dad passed. A random she tells me is my new step father but call him your father out respect. She couldn't ever bear being alone. Or more accurately, without someone to control.

It doesn't matter. Felix doesn't even give me a chance to explain the moment we get back to Saltburn.

"You're a fucking liar Ollie. Why would you lie?"

It's like every time this has happened is flashing before me. The memories hold my words hostage. Feelings of hopelessness envelope me. This won't be different from any of the other times, I can already tell. The only words that come from my mouth are, "I just wanted to be your friend."

Of course that's not enough for Felix. His eyes hold disappointment and a barely veiled rage in them.

[wisteriasymphony]

posting this to the tumblr so y'all see it too. also on ao3 tho

There was something addictive to the way he would hold her.

The way his hand held onto her thigh like he was about to die; Looking into her eyes like she was the only cure. Perhaps she was lucky, she supposed, that the person she’d seen look at her like this was someone like him. 

Does he even realize that he’s using her? …If she’s the only one who feels that way, is it even real? He sure seemed genuine about it, with every finger that pulled against her skin, every kiss, every chemical. Hell, he probably was entirely genuine about it, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be something fake about it.. Right? 

”You really are beautiful,” he said—he would always say—with that strange look in his eyes. Claudia supposed it was a look of adoration. No, that wasn’t all of it. It was worship. Did she really deserve to be worshipped? Did anything? 

“Thanks… I guess.” She planted a kiss on his forehead. He didn’t grip onto her the way she deserved to be: He was clinging to her like she was a precious jewel and not… well, what she was. Someone else needed to be filling his hands. Someone else needed to be the person tearing through her with their fingers. …Because he wasn’t tearing, really. Not even close.  

Adrien started to place another constellation of kisses all over Claudia’s stomach, hips, legs… “Do you not believe me?” He asked, resting his chin on the pouch of her abdomen right below her navel. “I really do think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Claudia. Truly.” 

Finally, something she could pick apart. 

“I don’t know if I could really call myself a ‘woman’,” Claudia sighed, running a lazy hand through Adrien’s hair. She was only 19, really—20 in less than half a year—and she felt that was a word she still needed to grow into; If she ever grew into it, that is. If it was ever the right word to begin with. 

Adrien laughed at himself, the sound short and quiet as it passed his lips. “The most beautiful man, then. Or person, or even the most beautiful thing. That’s not the important part. I’m willing to call you whatever you like, because the sentiment will still be true.” 

A light touch from Adrien’s hand suddenly caused all the muscles on her back to tense up; She balled up her fist in Adrien’s hair, perhaps even a little too hard. 

“You know,” he added, “There’s a word I think you’d like: ‘grotesque’. You’ve heard of it before, haven’t you?” 

Claudia nodded. Grotesque meant a lot of things; In English, it carried connotations of the gross and gory, of slime and of mold and the generally unpleasant or unsightly. In French, it instead meant something ludicrous or strange, sometimes even ridiculous. 

“What’s interesting about the word is its etymology. It comes from the Italian ‘grottesca’, or ‘of the cave’, and referred to a very particular style of ancient Roman paintings, specifically a style of ornamentation on frescoes.” Adrien kept his other hand still on the back her thigh, perhaps holding on a little tighter now. “For a while, it meant something much closer to ‘extravagant’ or ‘highly detailed’. And, in my own opinion… you could perhaps say even ‘gorgeous’.” 

“Are you saying you think I’m grotesque?” Claudia smiled, before Adrien pulled her in closer again. 

“Maybe. I’m just wondering if you would prefer I call you that instead. That way you can always interpret the word in the way you like, and I can interpret it in mine.” 

Claudia thought for a minute about it. Surely, in some sense of the word, there was something grotesque about all of this. She was ‘grotesque’ as in unpleasant… he was ‘grotesque’ as in extravagant… And together? ‘Grotesque’ as in strange. It was easier to accept the way he looked at her now, though, for some odd reason; Now that it conjured the image of him worshipping a statue of Medusa rather than one of a goddess. Even if it was wrong, she liked the idea that he adored her as a monster than as an idol. That, in her eyes, felt actually genuine. Maybe it was the idea that she inspired a little fear in him, too, that sold it. 

claudrien nation tags (like 4 of you have already read it but idc you get it again as a gift for me mwah): @wuhuislandconspiracy @dayochoco @mxacegrey @joshua-the-phoeinx @everything163 @myriadmi @cutepastelstarsalior @xxcresentmoonxx @nocturnal-notes @pyrusinc @moondancer35 @bluesoulblueheart @foxgloveciara

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Seven Snippets Seven People

Tagged by @oh-no-another-idea, @eli-writes-sometimes, @verkja to post 7 snippets and tag 7 people. I decided to find 7 Rayran snippets!

1.

Raymond continued, closing with a smile that showed his dimples. “…as much as I was dying to see you.” I raised an eyebrow at him, not sure what the comment meant. Me greeting him by making sure his cover was secure wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and I knew he didn’t like it. I didn’t know how to respond, so I took a few more bites of the pizza. Maybe I was thinking too much about it— I enjoyed our meetings, even when I was frustrated with him. It was my only chance to relax, everything else was playing a role or planning it. It wasn’t too far to say that he might enjoy them too— I was the only one who knew he was alive. 

2.

“Can you unfocus for a second?” Raymond said.  I tensed up. I didn’t know if he knew just how often I was under the spell, but the suggestion filled me with discomfort. Focusing was how I stayed safe. I could miss something without it. But his eyes held me. Please, he asked. I took a deep breath. Released the spell for the second time that day. The fatigue came back, the panic that had been dormant as anger made my heart start to race, because I was going to get caught and everything was going to fall apart. The floor was unstable and I sat down on the loveseat. Raymond sat down next to me and waited for a second. I looked at him— his hand was still on my shoulder, and I could breathe and I wouldn’t’ve released the spell with anyone else but him. Even if he was making mistakes, messing this up, here, when it was just us, apparently I did trust him. I could trust him.

3.

He narrowed his eyes and I realized I probably shouldn’t be telling him what to do in that moment— even if he did need to be quiet. But he lowered his voice and chose his words carefully. “You almost did, and you intended to, because you were at risk. So I have to ask myself, if you’re willing to kill a friend of mine to keep your cover, can I really trust you?” His eyes dropped, staring hard at the table. “And maybe I shouldn’t.” A vision flashed of him leaving, of him leaving and never getting to see him again. “Raymond—” I started to say, but there were people around, and I couldn’t say everything I wanted to, and he wasn’t going to reach over and let us talk through my head.  How could I say, in that moment, how much I needed him? With the exception of this moment, I was safe around him. I was a better person around him, we both knew that. And maybe freeing him, and keeping the cover and helping his friends, maybe it was hard, but he was worth it. And maybe that was why he was upset anyway, but I couldn’t lose him because he was the reason I was taking the risk with Jesse. 

4.

I felt like there was something else for me to apologize for, but could I? Could I apologize for not trusting him? “I don’t think I can completely trust you. I can say I trust you more than anyone else. But I don’t trust that you’ll do everything to keep yourself safe.” “Well, you have no reason to,” he said. “We don’t actually know each other that well.” “We know each other,” I said. He shook his head. “We weren’t really friends before it happened, and since then we’ve written some or visited some but never for very long. Of course you don’t trust me.” That sounded right but felt wrong. I was quiet though, because I knew what he’d say. If I said that I felt like I knew him better than anyone, he’d point out that I knew Zachary and Mika better than I knew him just by exposure. If I said he knew me better than anyone, he’d point out that he was the only one I didn’t have my guard up around.

5.

“Still think it’s too dangerous?” he was grinning, his hand resting on the railing one foot on a higher step than the other, but now that I was within a few feet of him again and he wasn't running away, I could hear how fast he was breathing. That made me smile a bit, because yes I’d slowed down a bit, but despite him staying ahead of me and my comment about the stairs, it’d hardly winded me. “Well, I guess no one’s going to catch us together here,” I said, looking at the walls surrounding us, thinking about how loud of a clang the steps made that would tell us quickly if anyone was coming.  I felt his hand touch my arm and turned back to him, and for a second he looked like he wanted to say something. He was a step taller than me, and I didn't usually have to look up towards him but I was, and I saw when he decided against whatever he’d wanted to say and withdrew his hand from my arm, and he shifted his weight to the foot on the higher step and he was farther away from me. “What?” I asked, and couldn't help but feel like I had once again ruined his happy moment, somehow.

6.

“Alright,” he set his mug down and bit off a chunk of the remaining candy cane. “We ready to brave the cold again, then?” “You’ve got a—“ I didn’t point it out before, but I feel like I should before we go out. I touch my own cheek. He rubs it, doing absolutely nothing. Out of nowhere, I’m struck with the urge to offer to get it for him, and then that feels like far too much and I duck my head to look away, even though I don’t even know why that feels like too much. “Still there,” is all I say.

7.

Wait a second. Did I love him? Not in a caring about him, wanting him to live way… but in the way that… I didn’t even know enough about this to figure it out. Fuck. Damnit. I flipped to my back so I wasn’t looking at him. In the way that Ariel had written, how she’d asserted that Nicholas (“Dad”?) would do anything for Ally (“Mom”?). In the holy-shit-is-this-why-I-wanted-to-get-the-chocolate-on-his-face way, because why else had I felt so weird about that? In a I-hate-that-Abigail-saw-it-first way. In a maybe this was the something-that-had-to-happen-first way. I felt stupid. Because with everything that had happened, I knew everything else— I knew how much better I felt around him, I knew how much the thought of him getting hurt or being unhappy hurt me, I knew that I wanted to be better for him. I knew everything else. In a way, I knew that I loved him

Tagging: @puzzleddragon02 @sleepy-night-child @thegreatobsesso @drippingmoon @blind-the-winds @athenswrites @cljordan-imperium and anyone else who wants to!

[hekate1308]

I Never Said It Would Be Easy

Prompt: I never said it would be easy

Fandom: Father Brown

Pairing: Sid Carter/Inspector Sullivan

“Sir, I wanted to know if you need anything else?”

He blinked and became aware that Goodfellow must have been standing there for quite some time already.

It didn’t help that he had been trying to work on this file all day and had made practically no progress.

“No, thank you, Sergeant” he said, hoping against hope that he’d fooled him but naturally he hadn’t.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you alright?”

“I –“ he cleared his throat. “I might be coming down with something.”

It was hardly the best of excuses, and Goodfellow was a good policeman, but he seemed to guess that he didn’t want to talk about it.

Apart from the fact that – well – they could hardly talk about what was wrong because it constituted Tom breaking the law.

And someone else was involved.

He was rather sure that Goodfellow knew or at least suspected something but so far had never mentioned it, and he didn’t this time either.

Instead, he bid him a polite goodbye and Tom realized that it was, indeed, already time to go home.

Home…

He sighed. He had no idea if he would come home to an empty house tonight, but it was likely.

Even worse, he could not say what he would prefer.

There was only one way to find out, though, so he packed up his briefcase and left.

He had only recently given his lover a key after realizing rather a little too late that he had simply picked the lock every time he dropped by and thought nothing of it.

Their was no light on, but that didn’t have to mean anything. They were usually careful to avoid the impression that someone was in the house when Tom wasn’t.

Sid wasn’t in the living room, as was his wont, and he felt his shoulders tense. It seemed like he had wanted him to be there after all.

To the kitchen and the alcohol it was, then, even though he knew it was not healthy. But sometimes there was nothing one could do.

He jumped when he turned on the light and found his lover (former lover?) sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of whiskey. “Hey.”

“Good evening” he answered as he passed to pour himself his own glass, something in him having relaxed at the sight – if he was still here, they must still have a chance, certainly? Unless Sid simply wanted to end it all in person…

He downed his glass and poured another.

“You should pace yourself.”

“Because you do that”.

“It’s my first” he said quietly, and Tom turned around, surprised.

“Wanted a clear head.”

That could mean a lot of things, including the aforementioned possibility that he wanted to end it.

“I see” he therefore said.

Sid sighed. “Look, could you sit down, please? If you start pacing down like a caged animal again… Let’s just say, it won’t help.”

He knew that he had done so this morning, that it was in fact one of his typical reactions when fighting with someone, and he equally knew that it made Sid uneasy, so he complied.

“So I’ll start” Sid began with the expression of a man who had been repeating what he was about to say to himself for at least an hour. “I’m sorry.”

That was a surprise.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just think our friends have the right to know.”

Your friends, he wanted to say but didn’t because, despite his best efforts, he had come to the conclusion that he had slowly but surely grown fond of them as well, even the Father, although he would never have admitted so.

 “And you know they would never breathe a word to anyone.”

Perhaps not intentionally, but get a few glasses of champagne into Lady Felicia…

“But again, I didn’t mean to make it sound like an ultimatum.” He sighed. “I never said it would be easy.”

No, he never had. For all his easy-go-lucky attitude, Sid never pretended that they were not taking a huge risk, which was one of the reasons he took a chance in the first place.

It was time he answered, so he took another sip and said, “I… it’s not that I’m completely averse to ever telling them. But I don’t think we should rush into it, either.”

Sid looked at him and nodded, and it was only then that Tom realized he must have been as stressed as he himself felt because his shoulders slumped. “So… we take it slow? Would that be alright?”

He nodded.

“So… we’re good?”

The boyish hope in his voice made him smile almost, but only almost, against his will. “Yes. I would say so.”

Sid grinned at him and reached out to take his hand, and Tom knew all would be well.

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Late

Another impulsive post, not sure what’s up with me today.

Using Character tags A, B, and C hope that’s not annoying. 

There is some swearing in this. 

Premise: Character A is late yet again but this time they didn’t tell B and C, in fact they haven’t heard anything from A all day. This is concerning. 

~

Character B and C waited for an hour before something felt wrong. Character A had been late many times, by a substantial amount, but usually they at least message if it’s going to reach the hour mark. The meeting had already started, since A wasn’t a council member, the others didn’t particular care despite A being the only one who had any knowledge on the matter. That would have to be an argument the group had with the council later, right now, B and C needed to figure out what possibly could be making them late today.

“It better be some sort of demon attack,” B said.

“Don’t say that,” C snapped.

“I just mean this meeting was really important. This is just going to give Council Member Douchebag another reason to petition to have A under Council control.”

“We’ll deal with Douchebag,” C said. “Reasonable Council Member wouldn’t let that happen.”

The pair walked into A’s apartment building. It was a decent place, and they knew from conversation that A’s place was fairly big, however, as they rode the elevator up both B and C realised neither of them had ever been inside A’s apartment before.

“I wonder what it’s like,” B said.

C shrugged, “does it really matter?”

“No, but I’m just trying to imagine what kind of house a magical warrior would keep.”

“They’re still a person too.”

B knew that, but that wasn’t the point. B watched C’s hands fidget, their body tensed and coiled with anxiety.

“They’ll be fine,” B said placing a hand on their arm. “Even if it is an attack A can handle themself. Though considering the building is still intact I doubt it is.”

C nodded but weren’t calmed.

The elevator ride was painfully slow, and C felt like they were going to explode as they watched the numbers tick by. Finally, it reached the top floor and C released a breath, squeezing through the doors as the started opening.

“C, everything is going to be fine,” B said walking out once the doors were actually open.

“You don’t know that” C said. “They always tell us when they’re going to be late.”

C walked to the left, head bouncing back and forth, the numbers blurring as they went.

“C,” B said watching them.

“I know A is strong and independent or whatever but even the most self-sufficient people need looking after, sometimes more so. They are usually the ones who don’t ask for help.”

“I know that, but C-”

C whipped around, ready to yell something but a whole knew fury took over them as they saw B standing, still in front of the elevator, their arms crossed like they didn’t even care.

“What the hell are you doing?” They snapped. B opened their mouth, but C kept going. “If you aren’t going to help then why are you even here?”

“Well, if you let me get a word in, I would have told you by now that you’re going in the wrong direction.”

C’s brows knit together. “What?” They looked to the door beside them.

“We want 809,” B said, pointing to apartment 815, “you’re going up in numbers.”

C stared at the number, ran a hand through their hair.

“I am worried too,” B said gently walking forward, “but I am keeping a calm face. A is strong, and also extremely bad at time management,” they stopped in front of C and placed their hands on their arms. “Worst case scenario they got into a fight they shouldn’t have. Either way we are about to find them and help them, everything will be ok.”

C sucked in a long, slow breath, holding it.

B began counting, 1 to 5. C released the breath and Character B pulled them into a hug. They stood there for a moment, C resting their head on B’s chest as they took in another breath.  B waited for them to step back first before letting go.

“Good?” B looked down at them.

C nodded.

“Ok, let’s go this way then.” B kept an arm around C’s shoulders, and they watched the numbers until they went down, until they found door 809.

C didn’t hesitate before taking out their emergency key and unlocking the door. The first thing that became apparent was the sound of running water, a fair amount of it.

They pushed the door open.

The apartment itself was nice, shining marble themed tiles, a gorgeous looking kitchen with dark bench tops and cupboards to contrast the white. However, everything that wasn’t built into the place was incredibly minimalistic. The lounge room housed a small couch, a stained coffee table and a tv that sat on a cabinet that looked like it would collapse if so much as a feather rested on it. There was no dining table or chairs, and the kitchen bench was completely clear of things except for an opened box. The box was surrounded by varying types of painkillers, everything from the mundane paracetamol and ibuprofen to the more magical herbs and small bottles of homemade liquids, all of which were empty.

As they looked around the room they spotted the source of the rushing sound, a large puddling of water, flowing out into the hallway.

“That can’t be good,” B said.

They both rushed to the door, the bathroom was completely flooded, water spilling out of the bath as more rushed in from the faucet. It was cold against their skin already soaking into their shoes, feet squelching in their socks when they moved.

“A,” C breathed.

A was in the bathtub, unconscious, head and arm slumped over the side, keeping them from drowning.

“A,” C said louder, shaking their burning skin. Their hand recoiled, they moved it to A’s forehead. “They’re burning up,” C said looking up as B approached.

“We need to get them out of this,” B said. They turned off the tap, silence settling as the water stopped and B grabbed the arm that was still in the tub. C grabbed the other.

“On three,” B said, “One, two, three.”

They heaved A out of the tub, water weighing them down, but even then, they were surprisingly light. They both looped an arm each around their neck, carrying A out into the main room, laying them down on the dry floor.

A’s eyes fluttered open, a quiet groan slipping through their lips as their body began to twitch.

B crouched down beside them. “A? Can you hear me?”  They squeezed A’s shoulder, and they let out another groan.

“B?” Their eyes were just barely able to open.

“Are you ok? Can you explain to us what’s happening?”

A moved their arm, their limb clumsily landing on the floor across their body as they attempted to roll on their side.

“M’fine,” A said.

“You are very clearly not fine,” C said, holding a hand out as A began trying to sit up.

Their arm gave out and both C and B caught them, helping them up the rest of the way.

“It’s normal.”

B and C looked to each other, expressions mirrored, something between shock and confusion.

“What do you mean this is normal?” Be asked. “A. you’re burning up and we just found you unconscious in the bathtub.”

“I was trying to stop the fever before it got worse,” A said, their words running into each other. “It usually helps.”

“And the mountain of painkillers?” B said gesturing to the bench.

A didn’t respond. They leant forward, releasing themself from B and C’s support lifting their arms to their shirt.

“What are you doing?” C asked. “Talk to us, we can help.”

“You guys need to stop worrying so much.” A groaned, finally getting a grip on the top of their shirt and pulling it over their head. They got about halfway before whatever energy they had managed to muster died.

“Fuck,” they breathed.

“Dude just let us help,” B said. They grabbed the shirt and pulled it the rest of the way off, A’s wet fringe flopping over their eyes.

“I’ll go get some dry clothes,” C said, looking to A, “where is your room?”

A sighed, gestured to the door at the end of the hallway. “Just get anything, the ones on the floor are clean.”

C nodded and left. A looked to B, “help me up please.” They held out their arm.

Together they stood, A taking a moment to breath as the world swayed before they moved over to the couch. A sat on the arm of the couch and B helped them remove their soaked pants as C returned.

“So, seriously, what is happening here?” B asked. “Are you sick?”

A took the shirt handed to them and manoeuvred their head through.

“No… maybe this normal.”

“Yeah, you said that already. What does that mean?” B asked.

A sighed again, getting an arm through.

“My magic.” They grimaced as they got their second arm through, letting out another soothing breath. “This is what happens.”

They pulled the shirt all the way down and sagged, that feat alone draining.

“This is what happens when you use your magic?” C asked.

“It’s not always this bad. But,” they leant to the side, against the couch, “it builds up.”

“You’ve been dealing with this the whole time, and you never told us?” B said.

A looked to them. “I’ve dealt with this my whole life, it’s nothing new.”

“Every time you use your magic?” C asked again.

“C, this isn’t your fault,” A panted, “This is the price of having this. Human bodies are not made to contain this much magic. I shouldn’t have survived birth.”

“Have you told douchebag council member this?”

“You think he’d care?”

No one said anything, everyone knew. A closed their eyes, body raging against them.

“How can we help?” C asked.

“You can’t,” A said.

“I can make you some food, make you some more potions,” C tried.

“I won’t keep anything down and if I take any more potions, we will have a new problem. I just need rest.” They leant back and tried easing themself down onto the couch but instead just fell back. “Ow. I am assuming I missed the meeting.”

“Yes,” B said moving to A’s side, helping them move onto the couch properly. “Reasonable council member managed to keep things somewhat sane, but douchebag member was revelling in all the new excuses to call you incompetent.”

“He can go fuck himself,” A groaned, getting into position.

A curled into a ball on the couch, eyes closed arms crossed around them. Their face was pale and pained, both B and C watched the, their ragged breath, the moisture on their forehead that is no longer just water.

“Are sure there is nothing we can do to help?” B asked.

A opened their eyes a little, exhaustion taking over.

“Maybe… just be here.”

“We can do that,” C said. “You get some rest now.”

“Mmm,” A was already drifting off.

[bumbleklee]

hey c: can i please ask for something with childe, kaeya ​​and diluc where they accidentally hurt the reader? angst please? have a good day <3

hihi c: i didnt know if you meant physically hurt or emotionally hurt so i mixed it up <3

before reading: angst/hurt, cursing, men being absolutely stupid, under cut for possible sensitive topic + i think this is obvious but i dont think any of these characters would ever act this way 

childe

his fatal flaw was that he was too possessive of you

he was a protective person in general and you were no exception 

and usually it was fine

childe showed affection in public with an arm around your waist or a few kisses and glaring side glances to staring men or women

but sometimes he took it too far and you just wished he would stop

You and Childe had decided to go to a bar in Liyue one night and after a few drinks, you began becoming friendly with the other patrons. You didn’t think your tipsy compliments towards a tall man were flirty but when he smirked down at your shorter form, you realized you may have overstepped the line. 

“Who are you here with?” He asked, leaning down to your ear. Your eyes glanced around the bar and you didn’t see Childe. “Are you here alone?”

“Not alone...” You slurred. The man reached down to slip a hand onto your waist and you flinched away, nearly stumbling to the floor. He caught you fall with a strong arm and pulled you close. You were dangerously close to his face now. “My boyfriend...he’s...”

“Your boyfriend?” The man continued, “I don’t see your boyfriend.”

“Well, turn around.”

Hearing Childe’s voice made your heart sink. The man’s hold on your loosened and you wiggled away, immediately going around him. Childe looked hurt but you didn’t have time to explain yourself before he stepped towards the man. 

“I wouldn’t mess with me,” He said harshly, “I’m the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.” 

The man looked Childe up and down and smirked even more, “You? Why, you’re just a scrawny little thing.” 

“Stop fighting!” You tried, your vision hazy from the alcohol. Before you knew it, you were stepping in between the men just as Childe swung at the man. Instead of colliding with his nose like he intended, Childe’s fist smashed against your jaw and you cried out. 

A silence grew over the crowd and Childe stared at you in shock. You stumbled for a moment and clutched your face, lingering pain seething through your skin. You regained your balance and looked up at Childe’s horrified face, “It’s okay-” 

Before you could get another word out, Childe turned on his heel and left the bar without a sound. 

kaeya

he was careless

he liked to drink (a lot) and alcohol tended to mess with your logic and reasoning

whenever you two fought, he was usually intoxicated

and it was the same every time: fight when he’s drunk, you make him sleep on the couch, he wakes up sober the next morning and puts two and two together and then surprises you with homemade breakfast or flowers to say he was sorry

every now and then, though, kaeya didn’t know when to stop

“Kaeya, just calm down.” 

He was drunk, even more than usual. He could hardly stand up straight and you had to hoist his body against yours just to get him home. Now he was picking you apart for something you said days ago, slamming kitchen cabinets and making a tremendous scene in front of you. 

“You’re...the most selfish, irritating, two-faced bitch...” He slurred. You spun around at that, your eyes narrow with anger. 

“And you’re an arrogant drunk whose too shallow to care about anyone but himself,” You shot back. You didn’t mean what you said and you were sure Kaeya didn’t either but the tension was too high to talk about that now. 

You waited for Kaeya’s reply. Instead of throwing back a snarky insult, he stepped closer to you. Your body tensed, your back straightening and your arms flat against your side. You knew the words that came out of your mouth next were unwarranted but, frankly, you were getting scared.

“What? Now you’re going to fucking hit me?” 

When nothing happened, you took a step backwards. Kaeya wasn’t moving anymore and a look of hurt crossed his face. Your stomach dropped and you reached out to him but he shrugged your hand away. 

“Kaeya, I didn’t mean that. I just-” 

“You really thought I was going to hit you?” He asks, his voice cracking. It was almost like he sobered up completely in that moment alone. Your jaw was tight and you didn’t know what to say. “I’m not that low of a person, Y/N.” 

You slept on the couch that night. 

diluc

never in a million years would you think diluc would ever hurt you

he was such a gentleman and loved you dearly

he was even notorious for breaking up altercations between couples when things were getting serious

so when your fight escalated past anything you had ever experienced before, you were stunned

It was you that initiated the violence. You felt something explode into you when Diluc made a rather nasty comment and in that moment, you needed to feel some relief. 

A wine bottle falls to the floor of the Winery, shattering instantly and sending glass across the room. You both stare at the mess of glass and alcohol. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Diluc hisses, looking between you and the broken bottle on the ground. His tone was becoming increasingly more vicious which only fueled your inner turmoil. 

 You ignore him and step away from the glass, heading towards the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”

“Like hell you are, Y/N! We aren’t done here!” 

You whip around to face him. “What else do you fucking want, Diluc? Do you want me to get on my fucking knees and tell you that you’re right?” 

Diluc runs a hand through his unruly hair, his ponytail long forgotten. He walks up to you briskly and grabs your wrist, yanking you towards him. You stumble down the first few steps towards him. “Can you be bothered to listen to me for just ten seconds?” 

“Let go of me.” 

“Not until you calm down,” Diluc says. His grip on your wrist tightens. 

“Diluc, let go of me! You’re fucking hurting me!”  

At that, Diluc releases your wrist. His hand falls down to his side as you pull yours to your chest, frowning and rubbing out the squeezed skin. He stares at you for a moment before turning around, his back facing you completely. 

“Just go to bed.” 

[foreverindreamlandd]

The Same, but Different

Pairing: Destroyer Chris x Fem!Reader

WC: 4.1k

Summary: Your new partner Chris is still recovering from an undercover job that left him broken in more ways than one, but all he wants to do is make sure you’re safe. Even if he’s hardly said more than five words to you since his arrival….

A/N: This was written for @strwbrrybucky 's writing challenge, and boy howdy was this a challenge LOL. I’ve never written another romantic interest besides Bucky, so I hope it turned out okay. My prompt (which I didn’t do word-for-word because I am a *rebel*) was:

“Guess that’s part of the reason; you were just a constant, walking reminder of….”

Warnings: Chris has some serious trauma, mentions of death and violence, mentions of being shot. This fic is based off of the movie Destroyer but I changed the ending lolll. You don’t need to have watched it to read this fic (hopefully, if I wrote this well enough….) Thanks for giving me an opportunity to stretch myself, Rhi <3

*******

You always considered yourself to be a pretty level-headed person.

There were hardly ever moments when you couldn’t control your temper, or situations where your stress levels got the best of you. It was a special superpower you had, keeping your cool even in the most tense situations. You learned at a young age that controlling your emotions and not reacting to overwhelming environments made life easier.

Except when it came to him.

Your annoying, stubborn, ridiculously unprofessional coworker.

Rumor was that Chris hadn’t always been as reckless as he is now. He used to be the cool, calm and collected one, the one who was able to separate his life and the job better than anyone else. He could go undercover for months - leaving his life behind, his loved ones behind - and return as if nothing had happened.

That was before he was transferred from California to New York, leaving whatever shit haunted him behind.

Physically at least, you knew by the strained look in his stormy blue eyes that he hadn’t quite recovered.

And that was fine. You didn’t know all the details about what happened - something about an undercover mission going horribly wrong, a detective going rogue and getting killed during a robbery - but apparently it rocked Chris to his core and he was still rattled about it months later. His team told him it was okay for him to retire early, or to take a sabbatical to recover, but he insisted he keep working, and decided to transfer across the country to protect himself from lingering members of the gang he spent months tearing apart from the inside. They gave him mandatory desk duty for six months while he attended court-mandated therapy.

Chris was nice. You met him on his first day and he gave you a small smile, the most he could muster. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who smiled a lot. It was your job to be good at reading people, and what you saw in Chris was a collapsing wall, ready to crumble into a million pieces at any moment. He avoided eye contact with every member of the team he met, looking at the ground when he shook their hands.

With you, though, something compelled him to finally look up, and the way his hand tightened its squeeze around yours ever so slightly sent an electric current throughout your body. One so strong that you felt your breath hitch, something that never happened to you. It left you walking away feeling slightly out of balance, flexing your hand as if trying to shake off the feeling left behind by his touch.

His desk was right next to yours, but he hardly ever spoke. Not to you, not to anyone. Sometimes he would grunt a hello when you said good morning, rather than the usual pursing of his lips in response. But you’d often catch him from the corner of your eye staring at you while you answered calls and filled out paperwork.

Still, he never spoke more than five words, just sat at his desk, staring at his computer and occasionally writing things down.

So it surprised you when, four months after his arrival, he was being put on a case with you.

It was a pretty minor one, some underground drug operation happening at a club in Meatpacking District. You had volunteered to casually check the place out, gather intel on staff and anything that might present itself to be a lead. Nothing serious, just going to a club and grabbing a drink or two before heading home.

That was the plan, until your supervisor told you that he would be coming.

“What? Why?” you asked, elbows resting on your knees as you sat across from her desk. “I thought we agreed that it was just a one-person job tonight?”

She shook her head. “It is, but Chris caught wind of it and insisted he tag along. Said something about it being a good trial run for him to get back out there on the field. And honestly? I haven’t seen him so eager to do anything since he arrived and I don’t want to risk losing this newfound momentum.”

You bit the bottom of your lip, fighting the urge to keep arguing. Your hands were clenching and unclenching, filled with nervous energy. What was happening to you?

Taking a deep breath and unclenching your fists, you gave your boss a nod before standing up and returning to your desk. Chris was sitting at his desk, and you caught his gaze flicker from you to his computer screen when he realized you were approaching.

You took a moment to stare at him as you sat down, taking in the strong jaw hidden underneath the layer of scruff, his toned muscles pushing at the fabric of his blue button-up, the pink scar that cut into his left brow. He was an intimidating figure, someone who seemed like he could have made the toughest mobsters cower away with their tails between their legs.

Was that man gone for good? Would he ever be able to face his demons and move past whatever happened to him all those months ago?

You blinked, shaking your head slightly to get yourself out of your thoughts. You cleared your throat and Chris looked over at you.

“Meet me at the club at ten,” you said, voice monotone. “We’re just gathering information, looking for certain tells within staff or regulars. Don’t get within twenty feet of me to avoid suspicion. Wait thirty minutes after I leave to head out and we’ll meet at a diner a few blocks away. I’ll text you the address once I leave. Don’t have more than two drinks and don’t get too friendly with anyone.”

Chris’s jaw worked, and he nodded, hands fidgeting in his lap, and you suddenly felt compelled to reach out and hold them, to give him any sort of comfort you could.

Obviously, you didn’t do that, because that was probably the last thing he wanted. Instead, you gave him the tiniest sympathetic smile. “Listen, if it becomes too much, just get out of there and text me that you’re leaving. No harm, no foul. I’d rather you walk away than create an even bigger issue.”

Chris gave you another single nod, his hands stilling. “Got it,” he said, his voice low and determined.

That was, apparently, a big fucking lie. Chris had not got it, which was what got you in this current predicament where you wanted to rip his head off.

At first, everything was going extremely well. You found a place at the bar where most of the staff congregated, making it the perfect spot to listen in on casual conversation. One of the bartenders - a young guy named Chad - seemed to enjoy it when you batted your eyelashes at him and played with your hoop earrings as he made your drink in front of you.

It wasn’t until you looked around the club while Chad was busy staring at your low-cut black top that you noticed Chris at the other side of the bar, eyes locked on the two of you, gaze dripping with anger that sent a chill down your spine.

This was the most amount of emotion you had ever seen from him, and though it was wildly unprofessional and would definitely call some unwanted attention, you felt heat in your chest as your heartbeat quickened.

Still, you managed to flare your nostrils and give a subtle shake of your head to tell him to chill before looking back at Chad with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Anyways,” the blond continued smugly, “If you’re really looking for a good time, we have some more….fun stuff in another room.” He looked over his shoulder, then leaned closer to you. His breath smelled like onions and spearmint and you had to fight back a gag. “I can, uh, show you around if you’d like.”

You cemented the smile on your face, allowing a small giggle to leave you as you internally processed this request. It wasn’t what you had expected for tonight, and you weren’t armed at all which could be a problem if shit suddenly went down. But how could you pass up an opportunity like this, when there might not be another one?

“Lead the way, sir,” you said in a low, sultry voice that pulled a gross, hungry smile from Chad. He stepped back to whisper a few things to his coworkers before pointing a finger at you to wait. Then he walked around the bar, reappearing on the other side heading toward you.

He wrapped his arm around you until his hand rested on the crushed red velvet covering your ass. “Come on, gorgeous.”

Before either of you could even take a step, you felt another hand rip Chad’s from you, whipping the bartender around and he grunted in surprise.

You turned to find Chris, his hand gripping Chad’s wrist and based on the whimpers Chad was holding back, you could tell that he was squeezing it pretty aggressively.

“What the fuck man?” Chad cried out.

Chris spoke in a low, murderous tone. “Get your hand off her, asshole.”

This was when the rage kicked in. You shoved Chris away, putting yourself on the receiving end of his enraged gaze.

“Fuck off, dude,” you called out, trying to recover the situation. If Chad caught wind that you knew Chris, then you’d never be allowed to step into this place again, and you’d be dropped from the case before it even began.

Chris’s jaw worked, throwing blondie’s arm out of his grip, and the bartender massaged the spot, grimacing. “He shouldn’t be touching you like that,” he bit out. His eyes were a wild tempest.

Chad looked at you, confused. “Do you know this guy?”

You raised your chin, eyes still locked on Chris’s as you spoke, silently begging him to back off while saying, “No clue. Probably just some drunk ass who thinks he has a right to tell women what they can and cannot do to their body.”

His eye twitched ever so slightly at the dig, and you felt a slight ache of guilt from hurting him, even though he was the one causing trouble. He shook his head, looking to the ground and walking away while muttering, “Whatever.”

As soon as he left, you smiled at Chad, desperate to try to pick up where you left off. “Shall we, then?”

Chad stared at you, face scrunched in annoyance. “Actually, I think I better get back to work...” He took a step back and you rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on,” you begged, “I thought we were gonna have some fun?”

He took a larger step back this time, shrugging your hand away and walking toward the bar. “I’ve had enough fun, babe. You can find something else on your own.”

And with that, you were standing by yourself in the middle of the club, the music pounding in your ears and rage boiling in your blood.

You grabbed your shit and stormed outside, eyes scanning the streets to find your shitty partner.

It didn’t take long. As soon as you stepped out of the building, you caught the familiar buzz cut and denim jacket leaning against a wall, glowing underneath a spotlight.

Your jaw worked, fists clenching and you walked over to him. Dumbass was currently lighting a joint and you were tempted to shove it up his ass for the shit he just pulled.

“What the fuck was that?” you bit out as soon as he was close enough to hear your yelled whisper.

You saw his tongue swipe over his teeth in his closed mouth before he took a drag from the joint. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” he said, voice soft but still seething with anger.

You scoffed. “Yeah, you stepping in and basically ruining my cover definitely was not part of the plan-”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said a little louder. “It wasn’t part of the plan for you to go into a back room by yourself when we had no fucking idea what you were going to be walking into.”

“I had it under control-”

“What if you didn’t?” he yelled, head snapping toward you and you took a small step back in alarm. As soon as he saw your discomfort his eyes widened, and he shook his head, staring back at the ground. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/n.” He rubbed his face with his hand, breathing heavily. He was almost to the point of hyperventilating.

“Hey,” you stepped forward, mood softening at the sight of his distress, and gently placed your hand on his arm. He froze for a second from the unexpected contact, but then you noticed his shoulders loosen. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine.”

His breathing slowed and he nodded, unable to speak. His hands were trembling, and your hand traced its way down his arm to hold his, squeezing it.

“Chris, look at me.” He kept his gaze down. “Please?” you asked in a low voice.

This time, he complied, staring up at you to reveal a thin shean of tears covering an ocean of blue. Though it broke your heart, you still couldn’t help but admire how beautiful they were under the dull hue of the spotlight above.

You gave him a small side smile, pulling his hand to follow you as you started walking down the street. “Come on,” you said, “Let’s get out of here.”

The diner was a 10 minute walk and a 20 minute ride on the subway, giving Chris an ample amount of time to regain his composure and shake off the nerves.

It was your go-to spot whenever you needed to wind down from anything, ever since you were young and went there with your parents growing up. It always brought back happy memories of much more peaceful times, an escape from the harshness the world brought.

Also the pancakes were fucking delicious.

“Hey darlin,” Wendy, the regular overnight server greeted as she approached your booth. “Regular tonight?”

You nodded with a smile. “Make it two, please.” She nodded, turning away to grab coffee and you looked over to Chris to see his eyebrows raised at your ordering for him. You shrugged. “Listen, you’ll thank me once you’ve taken a bite of the banana chocolate frenzy.”

His lip curved into a small smile and he rolled his eyes, and it once again amazed you how such small reactions from him made your whole body ignite, like it was delighted that you had gotten him to smile.

Wendy returned with two mugs of coffee, leaving once again as the two of you stared into the dark brown liquid in silence, unsure of where to start.

Surprisingly enough, the notoriously quiet Chris was the first to speak.

“Sorry,” he breathed out, still staring at his coffee, hands twisting the mug around in small semi-circles.

You nodded. “Me, too. I shouldn’t have exploded at you. People lose their cool, especially after going through whatever shit you did. It happens.”

Chris shook his head, a heavy sigh leaving his body. “It’s because of the shit I went through that I should know better than to lose my cool in situations like that. I could have put you in more danger than whatever you were walking into.”

You brought the mug to your lips, taking a sip before asking the question that had been on your mind for months. “What happened in L.A., Chris?”

There was an almost imperceptible reaction to your question, a tiny twitch in the corner of his right eye, a barely audible sharp intake of breath, and a slight tensing of his form. You gave him a moment to collect his thoughts and settle, suddenly filled with a desire to make sure the man before you never felt uncomfortable in your presence, to make sure he always felt safe while you were around.

“Erin,” he breathed out, and his voice broke as he said the name, almost as if he hadn’t spoken it in months. “That was her name. She’s- she was my partner when we went undercover to infiltrate one of L.A.’s most ruthless gang’s. Their leader, Silas, was a diabolical piece of shit who hardly trusted his own team, and Erin and I had to spend fucking months to get anywhere substantial, to be accepted into the inside.

“I always thought I could trust Erin. She was one of the strongest women I had ever known. Fierce, independent, smart, and could give you a look that would sometimes even make Silas cower as if he was about to shit his pants,” he breathed out a small laugh at a long-lost memory, but then the smile suddenly disappeared, light expression replaced by anguish.

“When we first went in, she wanted so bad to take those assholes down, and she was ready to do anything to make sure it happened. It was amazing how easily she put on the mask of the characters we were playing. Somewhere along the way, it no longer felt like acting, and I think it took the both of us too long to realize that until it was too late. Shit got real, feelings took over logic, and there were too many moments when I felt happy to be where we were, because it was a life where…where I had Erin.” His jaw worked and he cleared his throat, eyes distant.

“Apparently I didn’t have her, though. She was lost, and she didn’t want to go back to the lives we had before. She wanted to stay with Silas and continue his dirty work. I thought it meant she wanted to stay there with me, that she loved me like I…I was willing to do anything for her. So I guess I lost myself, too, because I was ready to leave this life behind to stay with her.

“But then, Silas had a massive robbery job that went wrong. A bank teller set off an alarm and he went back to kill her. She was a kid, and he was just going to shoot her in the fuckin head like it was nothing. I had to do something, we had to do something, but when I looked at Erin, she just shook her head, and that’s when I realized that I had lost her, too. That she would rather live in Silas’s world and let an innocent woman die for it, would watch me walk away and not do anything about it. She let me go, just like that.”

Your heart ached as you saw his adam’s apple bob up and down, lips pressing together to keep them from trembling. His voice was shaking as he continued, “The girl at the bank died. I couldn’t get a shot on Silas, but he managed to put a bullet in my stomach.” Chris moved a hand to rest over the spot and you winced. “They tried to escape, but the S.W.A.T. team pinned them down. There were,” he took a breath, tears forming in his eyes, “No one made it out. Except for me, I guess.” The laugh he let out was thick with despair. His hand moved back to the table, fingers tapping against the linoleum. Then, his eyes shot up to meet yours, irises shining. “Then I come over here to basically run away from all that shit, and I meet you,” your breath hitched at the unexpected turn in the story, “This fierce, strong, intelligent, bold person who takes shit from no one and yet manages to light up the damn room when they smile.” His own lips twisted to the side in a closed-mouthed grin.

“I don’t even know how to explain it, Y/n, but the moment I saw you I felt this overwhelming need to make sure that you were safe, and I hated that I felt so weak and useless for months because of all the shit that went down. I wanted to get better, get stronger so that I could be there if you ever needed me. Not that you ever really would because I’m pretty sure you could kick the ass of anyone who tries to cross you.” You let out a small chuckle and his eyes widened with what almost looked like boyish delight before the hardness returned. “When I heard you talking about this drug case, I thought it could be my chance to prove myself, to show that I was ready and I could be there for you.

“But then we were there, and it was the first time I had seen you undercover, and all I could see was her.” Your eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “No, not like that, I mean- ugh.” His hand ran over his face before it resumed its nervous tapping. “You were fine, great. I just got in my head because clearly I wasn’t ready to be out on a job. It was like I was thrown back to those days, where we were so hungry to do what needed to be done to get assholes behind bars that we were ready to jump into any situation to make it happen. So when I saw you with that guy,” his face twisted in disgust, “It was like I was about to watch history repeat itself. And I guess that was part of the reason why I freaked; the feeling I had seeing you take a step that crossed a line from what was planned, and I was suddenly reminded of what I had, and what I lost. And the idea of losing you the way I lost Erin…..I,” his mouth opened as if he wanted to continue the sentence but couldn’t. He just shook his head, unable to speak the thoughts that apparently haunted his mind.

You reached out, no longer able to fight back the urge to grab his hand in comfort, stroking his calloused knuckles with your thumb as his breathing slowly settled.

“I’ll be honest, Chris,” you started, and you saw his jaw tense, as if bracing himself for whatever you were going to say, “I had no idea that you knew so many words after months of hardly saying a damn thing.” Your mouth quirked up into a mischievous grin as a sudden laugh escaped the man in front of you, his whole demeanor relaxing in an instant. “But seriously,” you squeezed his hand, and his blue eyes blazed into yours, “It takes a lot of strength to go through what you did and make it out, and to decide to keep working towards making this world a little less shitty. And though I hope you can someday learn to trust me and know that I am not Erin and I would never leave you like that, I feel pretty lucky to know that I can count on you to have my back.”

He stared at you, eyes slowly brightening as your words sank in, until a shy smile cemented itself onto his face, and you wished that it could stay there forever, that you could spend the rest of your life looking at it.

Wendy returned that, two plates of pancakes in hand and set them in front of you. You were too busy keeping eye contact with Chris to notice her gaze flicker between you both, a knowing smirk on her face as she turned to leave you be.

The deliciously familiar smell pulled your attention to the food in front of you, and you pulled your hand from his to grab your fork. Chris mimicked your movements, and you brought your focus back to him as he took his first bite.

He let out a groan that made you grateful you were sitting because your legs suddenly felt like jelly, and tilted his head up to the ceiling, eyes closed as he chewed.

“Holy shit that’s good,” he muttered, moving to dig in for another bite and you giggled.

“See? Told ya you should trust me,” you remarked, nose scrunching as you took a bite of your own.

His gaze met yours once more with a soft smile as he nodded.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again.”

*****

Thank you for reading! Feel free to check out my other stuff here!

[v1ctimplagued]

　It’s disorienting, to say the least. In one second, he had been intent on keeping the distance between them. A matter of self-preservation at its finest ‘cause one is supposed to accept their soulmate despite Billy having a firsthand lesson that sometimes it doesn’t work out from his parents. And another moment where he has this horrific realization that he isn’t going to be able to stay away. He had butt in when he had been the one to demand that all of this was nothing. That they were some cruel and gross anomaly conjured up by fate to be an extra bitch to Billy who has done nothing to deserve better.

It’s not even that it’s Steve. (Just a little since there was no denying Billy couldn’t have gotten off on any worse of feet with the other.) It’s solely to do with him being male which hadn’t really been in Billy’s books. He already knew how that would pan out for him. In terms of wrongness, Steve was probably the best pick for that.

He supposes he should start this with baby steps, right? For starters, he probably should be nicer to Steve. Because Billy was Billy that already seemed like such an insurmountable change in character that it was going to require some serious work and conscious effort.

If things were different and Billy wasn’t strained, tired, and overthinkin’ he might have joked about going up to Steve’s bedroom. He’s certain it would be unappreciated but the lighthearted flirty jab would have been such a Billy move. However, things weren’t that kinda mood and they were already on the fence about even trying—what they were trying was still questionable. Billy supposes at the most basic they’re trying to co-exist together. And they’d see wherever the fuck that landed them. He was goin’ to have to do a lot of research about this shit to settle some of his own thoughts, his insistent worries, and the troubling anxiety over it all.

Was Steve scared of the dark? Or perhaps Billy had read it wrong when he was following him. His own thoughts were takin’ up so much space he hadn’t really been paying Steve any mind. Billy was already spiraling seconds in his resolution to be buddy-buddy with his soulmate. Just as before Billy would have normally taken a jab but already knows the tense and uncomfortable apprehension between them makes it wholly inappropriate to take that hit. Steve has no reason to like him and might never come to peaceful terms. Billy is bound to fuck up when he isn’t so aware of himself but for now, he can hold back.

“For fucks sake,” He might be trying but he is still himself. He is pushing past Steve careful to not clip him or throw him off balance ‘cause he wasn’t a fucking nurse. Billy who has more fears than anyone else cannot be bothered at the moment to be a hypocrite and tease Steve about his own. He moves forward into his room and takes in the space that is thoroughly Steve’s. He spies the mess and sighs, realizing this is the cause of all this worry from earlier. Blue eyes cut to Steve’s accusingly as if he had knowingly caused this mess. It was a silly thought ‘cause Steve would have probably gone out of his way to bring Billy to his doorstep. Just a petty afterthought. “I will be right back. Don’t fucking touch it. Gonna grab a broom.”

So much for Billy being ‘nice’. He’s turning and darting back down the same dark hallway and into the Harrington living room. He finds the kitchen fairly easy and the broom then the dustpan. It’d probably be considerably easier to do the cleaning with this than his bare hands. It’s at the bottom of the steps of his return that he pauses slightly.

He could just leave. Pretend none of this happened. A part of Billy really wants to. Aside from Steve——it’s really a Billy thing. He was not a soft or gentle person capable of holding other people with the consideration they often needed. He didn’t fucking think first. He only ever managed to react. His anger was nasty and he had always been a bit selfish. He knew he wasn’t as bad as he portrayed himself but he also knew he was some level of awful. The way he had gone at Steve through everything was a testament to that no matter what he had thought was goin’ on. He still didn’t know.

Steve is his soulmate though. The denial had made a mess of things. Billy is not confident in his ability to unravel the chaos but he could try. A valiant effort, he thought, Steve deserved that and not the bullshit Billy’s parents had become.

He’s coming up the stairs fairly loudly mostly to announce his return and conjuring the tools he had gotten before he’s moving to the broken lamp. Carefully ‘cause he doesn’t want to fuck up his own fingers not casting Steve a glance ‘cause he doesn’t trust his mind and certainly doesn’t want anything betrayed on his face. That Billy is scared - so damn scared he doesn’t know what the hell to do with this shit. What might be the most fair and wise...

ㅤSteve didn't think anyone would really be able to argue that Billy Hargrove would need physical protection from anything normal - not that Steve was inclined to think in terms of 'protection' and 'normal' after what he'd experienced in the past year, and particularly the nightmares he'd had that very night. Billy needing protection emotionally made a lot more sense, particularly if they were emotions that would only add gasoline to the fire he already had burning. It wouldn't be sustainable, but short term? Steve could do it.

ㅤAt least, he thought he could in that moment. It felt like something that he could handle, and until it was proven otherwise or Billy just flat didn't want to, he would do his best. That didn't mean he was going to roll over and let Billy be an asshole to him, or that he would have really understood Billy thinking he was so kind because he had just been thinking about strangling the bastard, but there were guaranteed bumps in this particular road. They'd hopefully manage.

ㅤThe concept of 'romance' was one of those very big bumps, or maybe an absolute crater of a pothole, he wasn't sure. Billy wasn't the only one whose thoughts went in that direction because obviously soulmates meant romance, right? He wasn't about to broach that topic seriously with Billy fucking Hargrove, who he thought hated him before all of this because why would he think otherwise? Hargrove targeted him instantly because Tommy H. and the rest of the popular crowd talked about him incessantly, so Billy went after the guy with the proverbial crown to take his spot. That was it, as far as he knew, because why would he think that Hargrove was attracted to him, therefore desperately trying to get his attention and that his consistent dismissal was driving him nuts?

ㅤExactly.

ㅤThe part about hauling the kids around wasn't off the mark, however, so it was fortunate that Billy didn't voice that. There was a reason for it, and for those kids specifically, but it didn't change the fact that they'd slammed into his life and were changing it for the better. He had plans to see a movie with Dustin Henderson that weekend. How insane was that? He was pretty sure that Lucas and probably Max would also show up, and he wasn't sure if that made it better or weirder.

ㅤNot important, especially given how Billy was running his hands through his hair and looking stressed. Steve was actually coming down from most of his stress, which was making that sense of calm he was clinging to and trying to share a little easier, but he could feel Billy's anxiety and he felt bad about it. He got a little mad when he realized he was feeling bad about Billy being stressed and upset about being tied to him, but then it also hit him that Nancy hadn't wanted him, either. They weren't soulmates, so it made some amount of sense, but it didn't mean it didn't break his heart. Billy had plenty of reason to feel the same way she had, with none of the good memories that he and Nancy made.

ㅤIt made sense, which was where his attempt to give Billy an out came from. He'd ridden in and helped him, wrapped up his foot after pulling the glass out and Hargrove knew he wasn't dying now. Billy was free and clear to go about his evening, and Steve could go clean up his room, then probably stay up half of the night because he didn't feel like sleeping anymore. He wasn't really prepared for Billy to say that his evening plans weren't important, his voice... almost softer than it had been? Quieter, and Steve wouldn't necessarily call Billy Hargrove's voice 'gentle', but he thought this was perhaps what he was hearing. It was gone almost as fast as he'd noticed it, but he knew what he heard.

ㅤOf course, he couldn't say anything about it because the only suitable reaction to Billy's insistence about cleaning up the glass for him was to roll his eyes, given the look in Billy's. It was safer that way, because that bright blue made Steve want to stare at them, and he wasn't sure Billy wouldn't get uncomfortable about it. "You really wanna go up to my bedroom? Sure," he said, pushing himself up and testing his sore foot on the bandages and floor. Tender, painful, but he'd manage.

ㅤ"C'mon," he offered, not sure if Billy was going to balk at having possibly forgotten where Steve said he'd stepped on glass, or push ahead just for the point of it, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell Billy he couldn't do it. It was probably a good thing Steve didn't plan on getting to sleep anytime soon, since he was going to have to spot clean blood from the carpet after his dash down to the door when Billy arrived - a thought process that somehow managed to distract him from part of the problem he'd had. The hall light upstairs had burned out, and when he actually remembered, he faltered, stopping before venturing into the dark.

ㅤWas it actually dark enough to matter? Yes and no. He could navigate the hallway in the house he'd lived in all his life, of course, but it was dark enough that it hit on those memories of the tunnels, and that was what stopped him in his tracks with a cold stab of fear through him that he realized too late to cover up. Fuck. "Sorry, I forgot the light was out," he murmured, like that might cover up the strangeness before he made himself limp along into the dark and towards his open bedroom door.

[chasingpj]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤

pairing: percy jackson x child of aphrodite! gn reader

requested?: yup!

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, one curse word, and mentions of sexual tension

category: fluff, shy boy x obviously interested girl trope

a/n: don't mind me I'm just projecting and I got carried away

you’re not sure what gravitated you to percy more

the crystal green eyes, the freckles over his nose, the disheveled dark curls, or his clumsiness

the first time you laid eyes on him, he was walking back to his cabin after sword-fighting practice

his tan skin gleamed in the sunlight as a hand came up to swipe away the damp hair sticking on his forehead

for an action so mundane, it made your stomach flutter like crazy

and then the beauty of the moment was ruined right when he trips over the steps of his cabin

you heard stories of the kid killing the minotaur, blowing up a volcano, and rumors of being the suspected child of a huge prophecy

yet, he was not immune from tripping over his feet

and you’re sure the dorky charm of that moment made you think, he’s mine

for the next few days, you were determined to approach him

but you didn’t just want to come up to him and introduce yourself; that would be too plain and forgettable

you ended up finding your opportunity during a capture the flag game

silena gave you instructions to distract percy, and you headed over strong, ready to make your first impression while also taking him down for your team

sure, he had water powers and done a bunch of cool things, but your father made sure you were well trained in sword fighting and martial arts even before you knew about the camp

you planned to take him by surprise, and luckily it worked

with ruthless attacks, it didn’t take long for you to sweep him off his feet and knock his sword out of his hand

by pressing the flat of your sword under his chin, you forced him to look up at you, and you peered into those clear green eyes

gods, he’s cute, you thought

“hey,” you said

percy was stunned, not sure if it was because you effortlessly took him down or if it was because you were one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen

“... hi,” he sputtered, gawking for a moment as you offered your hand

you swore you felt sparks when his fingers brush across your palm... even though the contact was a little sweaty

in the distance, you heard the satyrs blow the horn and the roars of celebration from your team

“i should go back to the others. catch you later, ocean eyes,” you flirted

percy’s shoulders tensed up when you blew him a kiss; awkwardly frozen in his place as you waited

“well, are you going to catch it? you can’t just let my kiss fly away.”

percy shifted on his feet, not sure if you were serious or not, but when you held your ground with arms folded over your chest, it was clear that’s what you were waiting for

and so with a flushed face, percy awkwardly grabbed the air in the front of him, and you couldn’t help but giggle

“good, i wouldn’t want it flying to a stranger,” you commented playfully. “you know, i don’t really like this whole outdoor camp life thing, but seeing your pretty face around here makes it a lot better”

“uh… oh, thanks?” he stammered, not having the words to respond

you winked at him before walking off, more than satisfied with your first impression

after that, you were contemplating your next move

children of aphrodite can see all the possibilities in a potential relationship

you were able to see you and percy eating ice cream in central park, holding hands at camp, a shy kiss on your first date

you wanted all of it, and you going to make sure you get it

of course, silena and your siblings were your wing women

if percy was in the strawberry fields, you were picking strawberries beside him

in the fields, you got to know him and his sarcastic humor, which made your crush flourish

you even took sword fighting classes at the same time as him and made sure he was your partner most of the time

whenever you had a chance, you’d affectionately fix his hair or his armor just to hear his shy thank you’s

he’s never had a girl show this much interest in him, so you definitely made him a little nervous, but despite that, he opened up to you pretty quick

sometimes he’d help you out in the stables, and you noticed how he’d fumble with the harnesses or knock things over when you would flirt with him

you loved his reactions so much that you always took it up a notch just to see how he’d react

you suppose the pegasi didn’t make percy’s shyness any better

there were times where he’d shush them, or the tips of his ears would grow even more flushed at a neigh or huff from one of the pegasuses

as the summer came to an end, you gave percy your email and made sure you stayed in touch

you didn’t live very far from one another, but you didn’t dare ask to hangout

you wanted to be asked first!

and you were disappointed when the invitation never came despite the two of you being consistent with sending emails

the year flew by fast, though, and you were excited to return to camp for an array of reasons; percy being one of those reasons, of course

when you saw him for the first time that summer, you were in awe at how different he looked after a year

he was taller, broader, and just more handsome overall

your stomach went into a frenzy when he greeted you with a boyish smile while his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously because he didn’t fail to notice how, somehow, you were even prettier than he remembered

unfortunately, having the prepare for the war meant you guys were too busy to hang out as often as you did the previous summer

but when you did have time to see each other, it was still fun

there was an unspoken rule between you and percy that any talk about the war wasn’t allowed

it allowed you guys to just bask in the nights where you would watch the sunset while joking around and sharing funny stories

those nights were calm and still; they brought a sense of normalcy amongst the chaos and growing tensions

because of this, percy had sought out your company whenever he could get it

being with you made him feel like time slowed down

inevitably, the battle of manhattan occurred and passed, causing the summer to end with the grief of losing your siblings

while campers arranged the ceremonies to honor their siblings, percy hopped around to help

losing silena as a counselor meant it was time to pick a new one, and to your surprise, your siblings nominated you

you were silena’s right-hand person, the oldest in the group after her, and the strongest fighter, so your siblings felt it was fair that you took the role

but it didn’t feel right to you; the pressure of being a newly elected councilor while still grieving silena weighed hard on your shoulders

after the nomination, you needed time to get away and sit with your thoughts, and you were only there for a moment alone until percy had found you

his eyes studied your somber expression, and he was quick to ask what was wrong

as you poured out all your worries, percy was quiet and attentive

you cuddled up to his side for comfort, and even in your sorrow, you didn’t fail to notice the way he tensed up

finally, when you let everything out, he chimed in to soothe your worries

your expression was a little lovestruck as he said everything you needed to hear, and well, his strong arm around your shoulders definitely helped too

you were so elated that you couldn't help but press a kiss on his cheek to thank him

his flushed face was enough to lift your spirits for good that day

by the time the summer officially came to an end, you could feel that percy’s feelings for you were becoming stronger

the romantic possibilities you envisioned became more apparent, but percy hadn’t asked you out yet

and like, you guessed you could have asked him out, but that wasn't fair in your book

you were already making the first moves; it was his turn to do something about it

then you were sure your mother pitied you because finally, after a few more months of emailing, percy asked if you to go ice skating with him, and of course, you agreed

but then, you concluded that it was more like a cruel joke from your mom because percy never showed up

you waited hours for him before you trudged home in defeat

heartbroken wasn’t even enough to describe how you were feeling

being stood up with no follow up from him made you conclude that he just wasn’t interested and you just needed to move on

it wasn’t until you went to CHB for christmas break did you find out percy was missing

you were crazy worried about him and helped as much as you could to try and find him

when it was confirmed that he was still alive, you were more than relieved

from that day on, you were itching to see him again, and finally, after the giant war, you were able to speak to him

you only said a hello before you got sucked into a game of truth or dare with your friends

the game was self-explanatory; spin the bottle and the person who’s chosen is submissive to the person who spun it

you made up some lousy dares for the first few people until you spun the bottle in percy’s direction

“truth or dare?” your voice was challenging, and a little flirty

percy shifts in his place, “truth.”

“do you want to kiss me?”

“dare.”

“kiss me.”

the instigating coos of your friends made you smile, which contrasted percy’s stunned expression

“never have i ever-”

“that’s not even the game, percy!”

your friends laughed at your interaction, but you were honestly a little annoyed

he liked you; you could feel it, so what was he even waiting for?

“it’s fine. you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” you say with a playful smile in an attempt to hide your disappointment

“shit, i’d kiss you,” leo joked, and you suddenly perked up at the request

a new idea came to your mind

“so kiss me,” you snapped your gaze to leo, a smirk on your face

leo gasped so hard; he choked on his own saliva

while he coughed erratically, showcasing all his shock on his face, you announced, “new rule! you can only give up a dare if someone else in the group offers to take it for you.”

your gaze fixed on leo, “so, are you going to kiss me or what?”

“uh, only if you want to,” he stammered, and you smiled, moving to lean over in his direction

suddenly, percy cut in, “i didn’t give up the dare.”

your attention shifted to him, and you didn’t fail to pick up the jealousy radiating off of him

your stomach flipped with anticipation at the success of your idea

if percy needed a push, you were going to push him

“you’ve given leo false hope then,” you joked, and playfully leo sighed.

“man, so close,” he mumbled.

you bit your lip as you leaned in percy’s direction

you felt his attraction to you; his eyes told you everything you needed to know and more

and before you knew it, your lips were against his

the kiss was short, but for a moment, the world around you was drowned out; you barely heard the coos and cheers of your friends around you

with a satisfied smirk, you pulled away, settling back in your spot as percy’s eyes averted elsewhere, too shy to look at you

you and your friends played the game until you grew bored and found something else to do

because the festivities kept pulling you in one direction to another, the only interaction you had with percy was the occasional longing glance and nothing else

as you escorted a few of your sisters who drank a little too much back to your cabin, you were sure you’d have to wait another day to talk to him

lost in your dismay, you automatically denied piper’s offer to finish the task

it wasn’t until she scoffed did you pull out of your thoughts

“are you kidding? go. i’ll get them back. you find percy.”

“oh yeah. you guys need to do something about that sexual tension. are you gonna date him or what?” another one of your sisters slurred

before you could even protest, you were shooed away by not only piper but by the rest of your siblings too

you stayed in your spot, making sure they had at least made it to the steps of the cabin before you pranced up to percy’s cabin

you figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he wanted to go on a walk with you

your knock is followed by a few moments of shuffling before he opened the door

and, whew, you were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a shirtless percy

“hey." you leaned on the door frame, your eyes trailing down to admire his toned torso

“eyes up here," percy playfully demanded

you were almost hesitant to avert your eyes, but you obliged.

"i wanted to ask if you wanted to take a walk. you know, i just haven’t been sleeping well."

percy leaned against the door frame, amused at the dramatic pout on your face.

“sure, let me put on a shirt firs-”

“oh, you don’t have to. i don’t mind,” you cut him off, and his head tilts back just a little as he laughs

“i’m putting on a shirt,” he declares playfully, and you whine in fake disappointment

on your walk, he told you all the crazy things that happened while he was missing, and even though his stories were a lot more interesting than what you had to say, he was eager to hear about what you've been up to

your conversation persisted as you walked around the camp and as you arrived at the docks, another idea came to mind

suddenly, you cut yourself off mid-sentence, your gaze fixed on the water

“perce, you know, i can’t swim,” you mention, stepping on the wooden dock

“really?”

“really.”

it was quiet for a moment, and percy's expression was laced with confusion as you kicked off your shoes

you didn’t even care that you were wearing designer clothes, running straight off the dock and into the deep lake water

you heard percy yell your name right as your body completely submerges in the water

and it wasn't even more than 3 seconds before percy jumped in, one arm immediately wrapping around your waist to swim up to the surface with you

his baffled expression sent you into a fit of laughter

“what? why did you do that?!”

“cause i knew you’d come and get me.”

percy’s lips curved up into a smile, and you took the time to admire his features in the moonlight

you swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, and the action made you hyper-aware of how close your noses were

"kiss me!" you thought in your head as you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer

you could feel his admiration, the accelerated thump of his heart, the fluttering in his stomach that mimicked yours

the kiss you shared earlier was far too short for your liking, and you were already looking forward to the next opportunity to kiss him again

“i haven’t forgotten that i owe you a date.”

you smiled at his words, half-distracted at the proximity of his lips

“so it was a date all along?” you asked, and percy nods, amused

“you know, i was thinking now that there isn’t another big prophecy and the chances of me disappearing again aren’t likely, that, maybe, you and i could-”

“yes! gods, yes.” you cut him off, and percy laughs at your eagerness

you waited too long for the question that you couldn’t even let him finish asking

he isn’t able to say anything else as you pull him into a passionate kiss

it was as if the years of anticipation were being poured into the movement of your mouths

the kiss was long, growing in eagerness until the harpies had ruined your fun and the two of you had to run back to your cabins

a part of you had wished that all of this would have happened sooner

you had plenty of nights where you were stared at the ceiling with conflicted thoughts, wondering if you guys just weren't meant to be, if you somehow made up his attraction to you in your head, or if you should ask him out first and save yourself the potential regret

but when you returned to your cabin full of enthusiastic siblings asking why you were soaking wet and why your lipstick was smudged, you realized you wouldn’t have changed a single thing

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if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on !

[michelle-is-writing]

Family Matters, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

In the time I’ve worked at Princeton-Plainsboro teaching hospital, some might say I'm the bubbly doctor in our group. Although I don’t know how true this might be, I do know everyone can agree I'm definitely more bubbly than doctor Gregory House, but that's for another day to discuss. I'm usually the one people send in to try and cheer up patients. Because of this, I mostly work in the pediatrics ward where young, sick children are. Sometimes, I have an easy time talking to the kids and making them happier, and sometimes, I don't; usually, when I'm upset, I have a hard time.

Right now, I'm having a very difficult time.

A young New Jersey girl at the age of 11 had developed mastoiditis, an infection that affects the mastoid bone above the ear and is typically caused by a middle ear infection. Usually, this all clears up, but sadly, this infection had grown to be so bad that the girl ended up with only twenty-three percent of her hearing left in the one ear. Although this is the case, I'm not having a hard time because of the girl's loss of hearing, no.

I have my own problems at the moment.

Since I'm working in the children's ward, I don't get to see Wilson or Greg as much as I want to. Despite Greg's tendency to be an asshole, he's still my best friend and not to mention that Wilson is the kind of guy anyone can talk to about anything. However, our schedules are all different, so, as I said: we don't get to see each other that often.

At least they're still in my life though. For my family, I can’t say the same. Recently, I've just lost the closest person to me in my family; although it wasn’t through death, but through immaturity and childishness. Because of this, all of my other family members have closed me out as well, causing me to be alone. With all of my friends busy and my family shutting me out, I have no one to talk to or enjoy time with... no one. I can't even get a boyfriend for Christ's sake, and it's not like the guy I have my eyes on actually likes me back. Greg is the type of guy you can easily fall in love with, yet at the same, you really shouldn't.

"Doctor (y/n)," the young girl by the name of Jessie states. Putting all my focus back on her, I remind myself not become distracted anymore today. This isn’t the first time, unfortunately. "Will my hearing ever return?"

I smile sadly at her and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jessie," I tell her. "Your hearing in that ear won't return, but it's not a bad thing!" I assure her. She smiles in relief. "We can always get you a hearing aid, and that will help get your hearing back to normal again, but the wait might be a little long," I explain. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head at my question. "I'm okay with that, doctor (Y/n)," Jessie tells me, "I'll have my family help me until then," she smiles brightly. "You can always look up to your family, right?" She states, confident in her words.

Tears slowly rising to my eyes at the thought, I nod and quickly blink them away. "That's right," I tell her, still smiling. "And don't you ever forget it," looking toward her parents, I nod my head. "The discharge nurse will be here in a few moments with the papers. If you'll excuse me..."

Without another word, I quickly leave the room and walk as fast as I can to the nearest empty room. I prefer going to James’ office instead, but it's two floors away, and I don't want any awkward elevator trips. So, before I have a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway, I find an unlocked janitorial closet before walking in and closing the door behind me, ultimately sliding down the hardwood door once it's shut.

Sitting on the cold, tile floor, I begin sobbing as quiet as I can, my hand covering my mouth. I already had my family drama on my mind all day, but for that girl to unintentionally throw it back in my face? That was the frosting on top of the already leaning, three-layer cake.

Tears stream down my cheeks like raindrops as I cry my heart out. I can tell my cheeks are red by the sensation of heat I currently feel on them; my hands feel it too. I'm crying so hard my chest begins to heave up and down as if I were having a panic attack. Oh God, I can't have a panic attack. Not here, not now.

Behind me, I feel two knocks on the door, causing me to halt. The only problem is: the knock wasn't above me, it was where my back is against the door. Remind you, I'm currently sitting on the floor. The only way someone can knock that low is if there is a midget behind the door there or someone used something like a cane... it's Greg.

Slowly moving up a little, I shakily open the door and let the grey haired man in, watching as he looks at me with pity. I've never seen the confident doctor House look like this with anyone. It's like a... a totally different Greg.

Sitting down beside me against the door, Greg drops his cane beside him as he sighs and wraps his arm around me before gently tugging my body close to his. Shocked, I tense up, tears no longer pouring out of my eyes. Greg never comforts anyone like this. He always makes fun of them or says something that many people take offense to, but he never... he never cares. He always brushes it off his shoulder, yet for some reason, he seems like he actually cares this time.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice deep as usual with no emotion.

I wait a few seconds before lying. "Nothing important," I tell him, my voice wavering from my scattered emotions.

Pulling me back to face him, Greg looks me in the eye before sighing again. "I know you've been crying by the wet tears on your cheeks, slight puffiness, and redness to your eyes, and fast-paced breathing - and I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that," he breaks down my current state, lifting an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to begrudgingly tell me what's wrong or do I need to stay in here with you until you finally give in to all my unrelenting sexiness."

His comment makes me laugh, causing a grimace of a smile to fall on House's lips. Out of all of us, I've been the only one to do that. I've been the only one to break Greg's stone exterior and interior. Plus, It doesn't help that I like Greg romantically. I like the fact that he's confident and witty; he's not afraid to be himself. Although, he can still be quite an ass to others, but to me, he’s always been nothing but kind. Even when I first started working here, he was still patient and sweet - a rare sight to everyone else. It used to hurt me to think he’ll never feel the same way as me, but I’ve gotten so used to that fact that it doesn’t even bother me anymore.

"It's just... my family," I explain, Greg pushing my head back onto his shoulder as he holds me. At this point, I'm not shocked by anything he does. The infamous doctor could be high for all I know. He probably took a few Vicodin tablets before coming down here now that I think of it.

"They've completely... shut me out," I explain, shrugging as I rest my hand on his shoulder. "They never talk to me anymore, they've blocked me in any way of even trying to talk to them. My cousin just sent me an email last night telling me that I didn't need to contact them anymore as they no longer wanted me in their lives," I close my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Plus, I wish I could work with you guys again," I take a breath before saying the next thing. "I miss you."

A few seconds of silence pass before Greg leans down to my face level. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by his own sapphire orbs, watching as he continually inches forward until his lips plant themselves on mine. Our eyes close at the same time in response to the touch of our lips, and they stay that way too. With my heart beating fast and a different fire in my cheeks, I instantly respond to his kiss while placing my hands on the sides of his face, feeling his hands attach themselves to my hips as I do so. We kiss until we have to breathe, both of us pulling apart simultaneously.

"They don't deserve you," Greg tells me, a little out of breath. "You are wonderful; a decent and kind human being, inside and out," he takes a small pause, flashing his blue eyes down to mine. "I never thought I’d say this, but… because of you, I think maybe not everyone is a horrible person and that maybe I can be a bit nicer a time or two," he then smiles at me, kissing me once more. "You have made me feel love believe it or not."

Smiling, I lean up to kiss his forehead before sitting back down and resting my head against his chest, my eyes cast upon him as he looks down at me. "You've also made me feel love," I confess to him, my voice shy. "I've grown to love you as well. You and your sarcastic comments and witty comebacks and your insults to apparent stupid people," for once, he laughs, making me grin. "I can't help but love it all."

After a few moments, Greg speaks up. "I know I can't be your entire family," he murmurs, holding me close. "But I can try to be your... your..." He draws on, clearly trying to come up with an appointed title for himself. After a few seconds, I giggle and cut him off.

"Boyfriend?" I ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I was going to say significant other," he argues, looking over to me. "The term boyfriend is so, well, childish," he complains, making me giggle.

Leaning closer, I peck his lips. "Good thing you have a childish mind," I tease him, pressing my lips to his one more time before he responds to my comment with something horrible or completely inappropriate. It is Doctor House we’re talking about, after all.

[yesimwriting]

hiii, this might seem weird but do u have any head cannons for when the reader is pregnant and how the Darkling would react?

a/n love this concept,, it's not weird at all!! i feel like there's so much here!! also i leave for college this month and im lowkey starting to freak out so ive been watching star wars movies for comfort 😭and now i have half a mind to write for them, especially the prequels (cough, cough,, anakin) 😭 😭 that should tell you where i am mentally

anyways lets get into the headcanons:))

--

- okay so like most of my headcanons, this is probably going to be all over the place bc i feel like so many different things could change how he would react. Like if the darkling x reader have been trying to get pregnant, or an unplanned pregnancy with someone he really likes, i also think whether or not the reader is a grisha affects his reaction too

- in general though, i think he'd lowkey have a breeding kink he'd def find something about the thought of you having his child really attractive bc for one thing, he wouldn't have to worry about being left alone and now he has an excuse to be a real 'protector'.

- also if youve read my other headcanons i am 100000% convinced that he has this thing where if he really likes someone he needs them to need him (let's all remember the whole 'i will strip you of everything you know and love speech until I'm your only shelter' speech he gave to Alina)

- also i kinda want to write a fic or blurb series or something that's just the darkling being super toxic in super thoughtful ways LMAO if that makes sense, like he's being super sweet but it's to make sure the reader is dependent on him

- and he def wants to be the protector to give himself some sense of assurance bc he's so desperate to not be alone anymore and bc the reader is the only person he has/loves, he wants to feel in control and like he's the less attached one

- okay,, let's get back to the pregnancy thing, anyways, your pregnancy is most definitely activating all of those senses and this was meant to be a sub plot but it kind of became it's own thing lol

- so lets get to the actual pregnancy reaction

if you two have been trying to get pregnant:

- when you tell him, he kind of like, pauses bc it's not every day that he gets surprised so it takes him a moment to register that he's experiencing shock lol, so he tenses and goes islent

- and then after he realizes that he's surprised and that it's bc of a good thing, he manages to relax

- meanwhile you're kind of freaking out bc he got so quiet?? you start to wonder if he's regretting ever wanting a child with you? and you're like two seconds away from a downspiral and then he...

- he touches your cheek and looks at you in a way you've never seen him look at anyone,, not even you

- the look is so warm and strong and full of fierce admiration that you feel foolish for ever thinking he didn't want this. And then he says something about how you're carrying his child and how he didn't realize he could adore you more and then he kisses you and it's all :)) warm:)

- he doesn't want anyone to know that he's expecting a child as long as possible bc of how many enemies he has and how he has to worry about you enough when people just know that you're his 'lover' (a title you never really liked, but one he tells you is necessary to make sure no one realizes the extent of his attachment)

- if you really want to tell your mother or someone of that relation, he won't be mad about it, but he just needs to know

- Genya is the only exception bc the darkling basically instructs her to look out for you,, but when you tell her she's like oh?? you guys just found out?

- miss girl most definitely noticed like a day and a half ago after you cried bc she couldn't find you ice cream the other night 😭and she just assumed you knew but weren't ready to tell anyone

- okay so this what i think is his most problematic expecting father trait would be. So i just ranted about how important secrecy would be to him but he's also the most overprotective person in the entire world,, like he was bad before but once he knows your with child?? yeah, if a man asks you about the weather, he's done for

- he's next to you in a second, ordering either you or the man to do some asinine task

- if you get mad about this (rightfully so) or even just point out how nothing is wrong and you having a casual conversation with a man who isn't even looking at you sexually won't hurt you or the baby, he'll lose rationality

- it depends on how much you push, but it'd be super easy to make him super possessive bc like i said, being bonded by a child has made him so much more intense (and he was pretty intense before)

- and if you push too much he'll lowkey forget about how cautious he's trying to be with you and pin you against the nearest wall and say something along the lines of 'are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it.' (AH--i want to write a whole fic based on this line)

- also if the reader is grisha, especially if she's a sun summoner/special grisha like him, he def talks about the power that they've created and how proud he already is and how he can't wait to train together and be the most powerful family in the world

- not everything is perfectly happy though, bc now he feels more pressure to complete his plan and establish the world he wants his child to be born into

- so sometimes when he's working extra hard or is extra aggressive for no reason, you have to work at calming him down and reminding him that the best thing he can do for his child is be there for them (and the child's mother,, lol)

- sometimes he'll respond by actually listening to you and trying to make up for his absence or his aggression by being extra soft until you finally forgive him

- you never last that long, it's hard to be mad at him when he's coddling you and whispering such sweet things about he's so happy to have you and your future child

- overall, his first reaction is to swell with emotion, which he isn't used to, and so he becomes super protective but also extra lovey and you know that his overreactions are just him trying to show that he cares about you and your future child more than anything

If the pregnancy was unplanned:

- the initial reaction is pretty similar, only his state of shock lasts longer

- like i said at the beginning, he's not used to being surprised and an accidental pregnancy is so much more surprising than a planned pregnancy

- this really sucks for you bc he's not exactly known for his patience so you just kinda sit there and genuinely wonder if you're going to be a single mom or if you're going to want to deletus the fetus or something

- but then he takes a step towards you and you see how he's looking at you and you just know that that fierceness has to mean something good

- and at this point you're scared and nervous and feel so alone so tears are pricking at your eyes,, so he wipes his thumb across your cheek to wipe away tears you won't let spill

- he then whispers something really sweet about how you two are now together forever, as you should be

- it's really relieving bc you felt so alone and uncertain and he's such a smooth speaker that by the end of the night, you feel like this is a good thing

- if youre still hesitant/weighing your options, he's not above trying to (gently) manipulate you into thinking that what he wants may be the only way

- by that,, i don't mean outright tricking you bc he means everything he says, but he def is pushing the keeping the baby agenda,, especially if you're a grisha,, and even more so if you're a grisha with similar power levels to him

- he won't get angry at first bc he's not so out of touch that he's unaware of how shocking a pregnancy is to a woman who wasn't planning one,, but his patience is limited and if you fight it too much he will get mad and yell

- but unless you really don't want to have a child, it won't get to that bc he makes the idea of having a baby with him sound so perfect?? like you genuinely don't understand how he did that

- he chases away all of your worries and assures you that youre not alone and that even though it isn't planned he wouldn't rather anyone else carry his child

- the initial conversation would probably end in you two sleeping together again bc he finds the fact that you're carrying his child so attractive and bc being aware of the pregnancy makes him more possessive

- it's also a good way to fight any of your doubts

- speaking of being possessive though,, i feel like he could be a little more possessive/protective of a reader who didn't plan on getting pregnant bc your relationship has been less established

- no one sees you as anything to him and he doesn't want to start rumors now bc it's important to him that his enemies don't find out about you or his future child so he doesn't want that to change

- but he almost forgets about all of those reasons each time he sees a man get a little too close,, especially if that guy is flirty

- it takes all of his will power to not just go 'she's mine and if i wasn't worried about the stress that witnessing something violent would cause our unborn child, you'd be dead already, but if you're not gone by the time i turn around, i'll forget about caution'

- lots of close calls ngl!! at one point youre like 'if it bothers you so much, maybe you should tell someone??' and he's like 'no,, maybe,, shut up' and then you raise one eyebrow and he just closes his mouth and is like 'i mean,, i'll kiss you to shut you up, haha--dont be mad'

- youre the one that's pregnant but sometimes you think he might be the one experiencing the mood swings i swear 😭

- so your little theory gets tested,, he's not the type to gossip with his besties and be like 'guess who's officially my girlfriend, i knocked her up but it's not like it sounds--'

- so he's like ig you can tell genya

- once again genya is like ?? yall thought you were keeping that secret? couldn't be me

- but having it a little out in the open helps ease him just enough that youre actually capable of consoling him when he becomes jealous

- still though,, he's quick to go into possessive/pregnancy kink sex

- youre most def not mad about it,, unless pregnancy has you particularly sore

- he's normally pretty understanding about that and def doesn't mind pulling his weight in the bedroom when he needs

- honestly he'd be really good at being a source of calmness at the beginning, but as time goes on he becomes more and more worried about finishing his plans bc he didn't expect to have a child right now

- so he'd be more adamant about working/becoming more tense and would be more difficult to console if it was an accidental pregnancy

- when you call him out on it--or on anything while your pregnant--it's frustrating for you both bc the number one thing everyone knows is stress is bad for baby, so he's trying to keep you calm without backing down

- these argument always end with one of you clinging to the other,, and then the more angrier of the two just like shuts up, rolls their eyes, and lets go of the argument...at least for now

- the main difference between an accidental and intentional pregnancy would probably be how you perceive him,, bc an intentional pregnancy means youve talked about things but since you havent talked about anything your shocked about how soft he becomes ??

[writing-blog-iguess]

Hi, can I request a fluff and angst fanfic about Damian x female reader? In which they're into an engagement mainly for business, but Y/N was insecure about it because she's a chubby cinnamon roll (which she didn't realise at all), and she felt left out by the entire Bat family. And so, during a true or dare between entire Batfam and their friends, Jon asked for Damian's type and he reply almost like a hint about Y/N, leaving his teammates wanting to see Y/N. They did later saw her, but somehow one of them said they didn't know Damian would fall into love with this kind of girl, which hurt Y/N unconsciouy and she ended up wanting to end the engagement. Damian chased after her and calm her down with Harley and Ivy Poison stop by and scolding the entire Batfam and League of how much they made their little angel felt leftout and threaten dear Robin that they would hunt him down if he's not gonna say anything clearly!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!! I really like Harley Quinn and Ivy Poison!!!!

I'm so sorry for how long this took me, but I couldn't stop thinking about it when I read this request! Anyways, I hope this is what you were looking for and I hope you enjoy it!

Life wasn’t fair, she knew this. Had known this as she grew up. But there was a small part of her that hoped that life would go her way once she was old enough to make her own choices.

But that hope was stomped down when she started high school and her parents planned out her future. The only good thing she got out of it, was that she was allowed to pick her minor when it was time to start university.

Throughout the years, she avoided the questions from the press and her friends when she suddenly became friends with Damian Wayne. The only ones to know about the arranged marriage between the two, were her family and the Wayne’s.

It was in an agreement that when they finished school, they would announce their engagement.

There was nothing wrong with it, but as she started to get to know the Wayne’s, she felt a little out of place. Like there was an inside joke or something that she wasn’t allowed to know. She knew people had secrets, she even had secrets. But sometimes it hurts.

Laugher broke through her thoughts, blinking at her phone. She dialed a friend’s number and brought the phone to her ear. As she waited for them to pick up, she couldn’t help but overhear the group of boys’ conversation.

“I didn’t think he’d actually answer,” someone said, after his laughter died down.

“Well, the rules say he had to answer so,” another said with a shrug.

“I’m more surprised by the type of girls Damian’s into.” She frowned, and watched them from the corner of eye. They must be some of Damian’s friends, she thought.

“You mean like that?” someone asked, gesturing to her. She frowned and furrowed her eyebrows as she listened to them talk.

She hung her head as her mood soured as they continued talking. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the prettiest looking, but she never thought Damian would be so swallow to go for someone that wasn’t her.

“Pumpkin,” a voice said, shaking her out of her thoughts. “You there?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah I am,” she answered, shaking her head and shifting her eyes forward. “I uh, I’m going to have to do a rain check tonight. Something came up.”

“Sure, I’ll tell Red. Let us know when you can, okay?”

“I will, thanks Harls.”

Later that day, she stood in front of the mirror, turned to look at her body. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the skinniest or the prettiest person. But she liked to think her personality more then made up her looks.

And well, she never really talked to Damian about it. Why he had agreed to marry her, or at the least, broke it off if she wasn’t someone he wasn’t into.

She tugged her shirt down and sighed. Maybe it was time to end it. It’s been nine years since the start of the engagement, and it wasn’t fair to Damian for being sucked into her parents' deals.

Making up her mind, she brought out some paper and pen and began writing. Once she finished, she stuffed it in an envelope, along with the ring and sealed it. Making a quick decision, she grabbed her keys and left for Wayne Manor.

When she arrived, she spent a few minutes just sitting in the car, wondering if she’d have to talk to Damian. That was the last thing she needed, for him to talk her out of it.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of the car and made her way towards the door. She reached out and knocked on the door. She rocked on her feet as she waited, hoping Alfred would be the one to answer.

And her hopes were answered when she saw the family butler standing in the doorway. “Miss L/N, I wasn’t aware that you were dropping by. Shall I go announce that you’re here?”

“That’s okay Allred, I only came to drop something for Damian,” she answered with a small smile.

“I’m afraid he isn’t here at the moment,” he said, and she sighed in relief.

“That’s fine,” she said, and held up the envelope for him to take. “Can you, uh, can you give this to him when he gets back?”

Alfred frowned at the envelope she held, and she looked down. She was getting a little uncomfortable under his stare, and wondered if he'd say something that would change her mind.

“Of course,” he said, taking the envelope from her grasp. “Is there something you’d wish for me to tell him?”

“That’s okay,” she said, looking up to him. He gave her a sad smile and wondered if he knew what was inside. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around Alfred. And thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure, Miss L/N. I hope to see you soon,” he replied. She hesitated and stepped forward to give him a hug. He tensed at first and returned it, squeezing her a little tightly. “I’m sure you’ll be missed.”

“Thanks.”

~~

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since she wrote the letter, two weeks of ignoring Damian’s attempts to talk. Two weeks of listening to her mother whine about the broken engagement, and her father’s belittling her about how she ruined everything. Two weeks of Harley and Ivy pestering her until she finally told them why.

“But you love him!” Harley exclaimed, moving to sit beside Y/N on the couch. “I don’t understand why you ended it, Pumpkin.”

Y/N rubbed her face and sighed, wishing they would just drop it. But they didn’t and kept going. “Because look at me!” she finally snapped. Moving off the couch, she faced the two and gestured to herself.

“I don’t look like someone Damian would marry! I’m not pretty or…or…I’m not a supermodel. And besides, I feel like I don’t even fit in with the Wayne family. I mean, look at the family. They all have looks and great personalities, they’re fun and adventurous, and their lives are amazing. And then...and then there’s me who’s just boring and average who could care less about adventure. I’m just...meh.”

She paused, wrapping her arms around her waist, trying to make herself small. It’s the first time she said her thoughts out loud. It felt a little freeing, but it still hurt.

“The only reason why we were even engaged was for a stupid business deal my dad struck with Bruce Wayne. I would like to add that Mr. Wayne didn’t even look that interested in the arrangement, and neither did Damian,” she finished, deflating a little. Finally telling someone about the arrangement.

“Oh flower,” Ivy said, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “If he can’t love you for who you are or only cares about looks, then he doesn’t deserve you. You should marry for love, so you made the right choice.”

She rested her head on Ivy and sighed. “But it wouldn’t have been a loveless marriage,” she whispered, “I love him, it would make it a one-sided loveless marriage.”

She felt Harley join the hug and she closed her eyes as tears started to form.

“You never cared about your looks before,” Harley mused, playing with Y/N’s hair. “What brought this on?”

Y/N opted to stay quiet and shook her head. Ivy called her name and she sighed. She knew they wouldn’t stop until she answered, and she was afraid of what they would do. This time, Harley called her name, but firmer. “Okay fine, but you can’t do anything stupid.”

Harley scoffed and pulled away to poke Y/N’s nose. “When have I ever?” She gave Harley a look and she just giggled. “Okay, so maybe there were a few times but I’m not letting you off the hook. So, spill.”

She rubbed her face and groaned. “I overheard Damian’s friends talk about how they couldn’t see him falling in love with someone like me. And they're right, I’m fat, and plain looking.”

“You are not fat,” Ivy said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re a little chuddy yes, but you're healthy and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

“What she said,” Harley agreed as she walked out of the room. She came back a moment later with her mallet. “Come on Red, we’ve got work to do.”

“What? No!” she called as the two made their way to the door. “You promised!” But it fell on deaf ears as she watched her two parental figures leave the apartment. Mumbling a string of curses, she took out her phone and sent out a message.

Damian ignored everyone in the room, and frowned at his phone. He stared at the two words like it was mocking him. It’d been two weeks of silence from her and the first words she sends him is I’m sorry?

Scoffing, he typed out a reply and just before he could press send, the door slammed open.

There was a collective gasp around the room as they watched two of Gotham’s sirens walk into the living room.

“Man, and here I thought we were going to have a quiet night,” Garth complained, leaning back against the couch.

“That’s what you get when you say ‘sure is a quiet night,’” Jon mocked, Garth made a face at him but chose not to say anything.

“What do you want, Harley?” Bruce asked tiredly. Damian had a faint feeling that this isn’t the first time Harley barged into the manor.

Harley pointed her mallet at the boys and smirked as they squirmed a little. Damian narrowed his eyes, wondering if there’s going to be a fight or not.

“A little birdie told me that you are making fun of girls like Y/N,” she said. Damian’s eyes widened in surprise. They knew Y/N? But she’s never mentioned that. But then again, there are things he hasn’t told her yet.

“Y/N?” Wally asked, confused. He wasn’t the only one, one look around the room told Damian that no one knew who she was talking about. “Don’t know who that is.”

“Mhm, that’s okay. She knows who you are though. And she’s told us what you’ve said,” Harley continued, “about how you don’t see Damian marrying someone who’s chubby, who is a bit self-conscious about who they are. Which leads me…” she trailed off and pointed her mallet at the Wayne boys.

They narrowed their eyes and watched closely to see what she might do next. Their eyes were especially on Ivy. She hasn’t said much during Harley’s speech. But her glare spoke volumes.

“Why is it whenever Y/N comes home from hanging out with Damian and everyone here, she’s sad?” Harley asked, and the boys widened as they realized who they were talking about.

“You’re talking about Y/N? Damian’s fiancé?” Jason asked. Wally, Gath and Jon’s head whipped around to look at Damian.

“You’re engaged?!”

Damian chose to ignore them and narrowed his eyes at the two. “What do you mean she’s sad? And how do you know?”

“Exactly that,” Ivy said with a shrug. “She didn’t tell us until today, but we knew there was something wrong. Said that she felt like she didn’t fit in, like you just didn’t care that she was there.”

Okay, so she didn’t say it in so many words, but that’s what Ivy got out of it.

She watched and listened as the Wayne boys tried to defend themselves. She raised her hand and they stopped talking.

“Is that why she ended the engagement?” Damian asked.

“She did what?” Damian’s brothers asked in unison. He didn’t answer and Ivy nodded.

“Better go fix it, baby bird,” Harley said, pointing at Damian.

Not needed to be told twice, Damian stood and left, ignoring the protest of his friends and family. He chuckled when he heard the groans of everyone as Harley and Ivy started their lecture on why you shouldn’t talk bad about people you don’t know.

It’s been twenty minutes since Ivy and Harley left, and she can’t help but wonder what they’re doing. She had almost followed them, but decided against it. She’ll wait until they get back for the answers.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up from her book in confusion. Harley and Ivy would have just walked in, and she wasn’t expecting anyone to come over.

Setting the book on the couch, she got up and made her way to the door. Her eyes narrowed as she saw who it was through the peephole. She bit her lip and debated on whether or not she should open the door.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N,” Damian said. He sounded tired, like he hasn’t been sleeping lately. “Can I come in, please? We need to talk.”

Sighing, she unlocked the door. He looked as tired as he sounded. She stepped aside and waited until he was inside before closing the door.

“You didn’t tell me you knew Harley and Ivy,” he said after a few minutes of silence. She shrugged, keeping her attention on the door as she answered him.

“I met them when I was in grade 10,” she mumbled, “was running from someone and I asked for their help. Since then, they’ve kind of adopted me.”

“Do your parents know?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think they would care.”

Damian snorted, turning around to look at her. She was still refusing to look at him. “I think they would care if their only daughter was hanging around with Gotham’s most wanted.”

“No, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t,” she argued. “They were the ones who signed my life away. I mean, the whole engagement was because of a business deal.” She hadn’t meant to, but she let the bitterness seep into her voice. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter anyways.”

Damian flinched as she dismissed it, and reached out to grab her arm. She tensed but didn’t pull away, Damian took that as a good sign, and turned her around. She let him, but kept her gaze on his chest.

“My friends are stupid,” Damian stated, surprising her. “We were playing truth or dare and I was asked what my type of a girl was. I didn’t think your first meeting with them would end our engagement. I wished you would have talked to me about it though, instead of that.”

She hung her in shame. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just, I don’t know. On top of what your friends said, and the whole arranged marriage thing, I didn’t want to marry someone who doesn’t love me back.”

She froze when she realized what she said. She shut her eyes, and covered her face with her hands, willing the flush on her cheeks to go away. But it didn’t.

“You love me?” Damian asked, and she could hear the smirk. She didn’t say anything, she just nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She shrugged. Damian huffed out a laugh, and gently pried her hands off her face. When she still didn’t look up, he grabbed her chin and tilted her head up. “I love you too.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him dumbfounded. He gave her a soft smile and leaned forward a little, resting his forehead on hers. “I love the way you are now, and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

“Do you really mean that?” she asked quietly. So quietly, he almost didn’t catch it. He nodded.

“With all my heart.”

She looked at him, looking to see if he was lying. When all she found was the truth, she closed the distance and kissed him. She bundled up his shirt as he cupped her cheeks gently. She put all her love into that kiss, and he eagerly matched her pace.

When they needed air, she pulled back and smiled when he followed after her.

“So, does that mean we can get married now?” Damian asked. She pretended to think about it, and he poked her sides a little.

“I guess so,” she answered with a laugh. He pulled her into a hug, which she returned, nuzzling her face in his shirt. “Are we still waiting until we’re done with school?”

“Would give us time to get to know each other. Really get to know each other,” he added when she was about to say something. “And maybe this time around, you’ll feel like you fit in with my family.”

“Wow, they left nothing out, did they?” she questioned. Damian chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Damian.”

“I love you too.”

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 6 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary technoblade leaves the next morning, turning tommy and y/n back to their usual business of bow work and baking. but tommy lets his usual curiosity get the best of him and questions y/n about the war, leading to a solemn result and revealing some terrible truths.

warnings mentions of war, death, and murder

previous | series masterlist | next

gif cred belongs to @herobrine​

tommy woke up late the next morning, which he presumed was understandable. he had stayed up late last night talking with y/n and technoblade, watching as they laughed and reminisced about the past, enlightening tommy with old tales and teases. he appreciated that they had made sure to include him in the conversation, but he couldn’t help but feel.. invasive. the two were obviously very close..

that thought was only further proven to him when he made his way to the kitchen in the morning. he was met with the smooth sound of y/n humming, and when he peeked into the room, he saw her smiling as she braided back technoblade’s long hair. tommy didn’t speak a word, fearing interrupting the seemingly intimate moment.

but y/n, without looking up, had noticed him. “good morning, tommy.”

he cleared his throat, stepping fully into the kitchen. techno, who had had his eyes closed in peace, opened one to glance at the kid. “morning.”

“there are some berry muffins left warming in the oven if you’d like,” she hummed, still working intently on braiding the hybrid’s pink hair. tommy immediately perked up at the mention of food.

“berry muffins, you say?”

y/n smiled. “i’ll teach you to make them, if you’d like.”

tommy picked the remaining couple muffins out of the warm oven as he considered her words. “sure.”

“how much have ya learned to cook, tommy?” techno asked him as he took a bite out of the delicious muffin. tommy shrugged.

“not too much,” he answered. “i can make steak, potatoes, pork chops, cookies, and pumpkin pie. enough to hold my own, i think.” y/n nodded.

“well, that’s another thing you’re learnin’ from the best,” techno sighed, offering y/n his hairband as she reached the end of his long hair. “y/n’s a great cook.”

y/n just shrugged. “well, kinda back to our topic last night, it’s a nomad thing i picked up. you travel around so much, you learn a lot of different recipes from a lot of interesting people.”

“do you miss it?” tommy spoke through a mouthful of muffin.

“don’t speak with your mouth full, tommy,” she scolded with a laugh, placing her hands on techno’s broad shoulders after tying his hair. “but..” she shrugged. “sometimes. i miss all that i got to learn and experience, but i know i’ll find my way back out there one day. for right now, im satisfied staying here and helping people out. especially people with long, pink hair who can’t manage a tight braid to save their life.”

techno looked over his shoulder at her as tommy let out a loud laugh. “i know you’re jokin’, but that one hurt.” she laughed, squeezing his shoulders before moving away to pour tommy a glass of milk.

as tommy began to scarf down another muffin, technoblade checked the small, golden clock he kept in his pocket. “i should get goin’. i told phil i’d be back by sunrise tomorrow.”

“alright,” y/n nodded as she placed the glass of milk in front of tommy. the boy thanked her as technoblade stood from his seat. “your axe should be cooled by now, let me go check.” he nodded as she scurried out of the room.

there was a moment of awkward silence before tommy gulped down some milk and spoke, “so, how’s phil?”

“good,” techno spoke plainly. another awkward silence filled the bright kitchen.

“.. does he ever talk about me?”

techno didn’t even flinch. “yeah. a lot.”

tommy glanced up at the hybrid. “really?”

techno nodded, considering what to say as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “listen kid.. i know you’ve made this place a sort of home for ya, and that you and y/n have formed a close bond..” techno sighed. “but there’s gonna be a day where things catch up and you’re gonna have to leave neutral. that government ya made isn’t gonna leave ya alone, exiled or not. so when things do go wrong..” tommy gave techno a cautious look, but the piglin just nodded at him. “come find phil and i. we’ll take care of ya.” tommy’s heart immediately warmed. “maybe not as well as y/n, but it’ll be something.”

tommy nodded with a somber smile. as kind as techno’s words were, the thought of leaving neutral honestly hadn’t occurred to him in a while.

“thanks, techno,” he nodded. “i appreciate it.”

“‘course, kid.”

“alright,” y/n sighed as she came back into the kitchen. “one lukewarm netherite sword, and a fixed up netherite chest plate. and..” techno took the fixed materials from her as she walked over to her fridge, pulling out a bag. “enough food to last your journey. and a little longer, ‘cause i know phil likes my pie.”

“he does,” technoblade nodded, taking the bag from her hands. “thanks for everything, y/n.”

“of course,” she shrugged. “it’s what im here for.” he nodded with a small smile, and she held her arms out to him. tommy was surprised to watch techno accept her embrace, giving her a tight hug before pulling away and offering him a wave.

“i’ll see ya around, kid,” techno nodded.

“it was good seeing you, techno,” tommy smiled. and the piglin left.

...

“deep breath, tommy,” y/n reassured. his usual target had been moved back a couple more paces, increasing his usual struggle with aiming the bow. but he still did as instructed, taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders in the slightest before releasing the arrow he had drawn. it lodged itself to the left of the bullseye. “great shot!”

tommy grinned as he looked over to her. “im getting better.”

“and that’s all we can ask for,” y/n agreed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “come on, kid, let’s take a break. you’ve earned it.”

as they walked back into the kitchen, tommy inquired, “so where’d you learn to make the berry muffins?”

she laughed, retrieving a pitcher of water from the fridge. “it’s actually a recipe that niki and i made together. just, uh..” she thought as she poured them some water. “just a little before the war, i believe.” she pursed her lips as she placed his glass in front of him. he felt the previously light atmosphere begin to sink into something darker. more serious. “i suppose you know of the war by now.”

tommy shrugged. “i..” he raised his glass to his lips. “i know very little.”

he didn’t dare look up at her as she sat across from him at the kitchen table. “can i ask what you know?”

he finally looked up, seeing her eyes were as kind and patient as usual. for some reason, talking with her about the war seemed invasive. it felt intrusive; like he had walked into some personal part of her that he wasn’t supposed to discover. but looking into her eyes, tommy realized that they couldn’t avoid this conversation. the war was a part of her.

“technoblade and ghostbur told me a bit,” he admitted, his finger swirling around the rim of his glass to distract himself as he talked. “just that.. i know it was between alivebur, dream, and techno implied that there were more involved? techno told me that dream put out a claim on you, and everyone resisted that, including you, and then wilbur entered it to try and win you over, and..” he shrugged. “it ended with neutral. that’s all i know. really.”

y/n nodded. “i believe you. and you’ve got some of the more important details..” she took a long sip of her water. “the war was between dream, alivebur, and technoblade.” tommy’s eyes widened.

“technoblade?”

“yeah,” she nodded. “dream sent out a claim for me, wilbur stepped in and tried to claim me in return, and then techno stepped in to stop the both of them and convince me to go with him.”

“wow,” tommy whispered, taking a drink. he took in the new information before changing his curiosity. “what were the battles?”

“the first official fight was between dream and wilbur,” she answered. “then they both started to gain support from friends, and build miniature..” she considered. “i wouldn’t dignify them as armies, but i guess they were miniature armies. i remember they all eventually got tired of those and began to send each other duel challenges, but i actually managed to shut that down.” tommy nodded. “just because..” she shook her head, looking out of the kitchen window. her eyes had grown distant. “that was not worth losing a canon life over.”

“was that the only thing you managed to stop during the war?” tommy asked, his voice quieter than before. y/n considered.

“i think so,” she sighed. “it was just such a ridiculous war; it was somehow over me, and yet i didn’t get a single say in anything that happened. i-i’m not some blacksmith you can lay claim to and use whenever you need!” she spoke defensively. realizing she was exuding her frustration in the wrong place, she took a breath and looked back to tommy calmly. “they treated me like a possession that entire war, and i couldn’t do anything to stop them.”

“was there ever a winner?” tommy questioned. “i mean, the war stopped eventually.”

“i was the winner,” y/n spoke. “i proved to them that i wasn’t a piece of property to steal, that i have control over my own life and my own actions. and then i established neutral.”

“how’d you prove it to them?” tommy asked, and immediately y/n’s gaze dropped. after receiving no response, he spoke, “.. y/n?”

“i’d rather not talk about it,” she said, looking back up at tommy seriously. “to this day it’s not something that im proud of, but things are different in war.”

tommy nodded. after a moment of tense silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “did you kill someone?”

y/n stood abruptly and tommy’s heart nearly dropped at the sight of the tears forming in her eyes. he had crossed a line. but not only had he done that.. y/n had killed someone.

“i-im sorry, y/n,” he spoke, shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have-”

“it’s fine, tommy,” she whispered, wiping at the tears in her eyes. she quickly spoke, “let’s take the afternoon off, alright?”

he nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair. “alright.” 

he watched y/n sighed, dropping her hands tensely back to her sides as she voiced, “go relax.” she gave him one final nod before leaving the kitchen. he cringed when he heard her bedroom door whip shut, sighing as he looked to the empty kitchen surrounding him. 

technoblade, dream, and wilbur were all in love with y/n. or at least, had once been, and enough so that a war broke out for her heart. but as tommy considered what he had heard from y/n, he began to realize that the war may have began over y/n, but the boys became so blinded by their competition between each other that they allowed that love to turn to possession.

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[proceduralpassion]

I Don't Wanna Be Unfair | 04

Pairing: Jax Teller x OC (McKenzie Gilbert)

Summary/synopsis: Fresh off a broken engagement, McKenzie Gilbert has a one night stand with a random guy she never plans to see again. Soon after, their paths cross, which complicates several situations at hand.

Chapter warning(s): language

WC: ~4.5k

“Is that red velvet?”

McKenzie glanced up from her perch on the porch steps as she registered Sairah’s voice. She picked up the milkshake and handed it to Sairah with a confirming nod. She was halfway finished with her own toffee-flavored shake when her younger sister arrived from her work dinner. McKenzie’s eyebrows raised at the high heels and suit jacket Sairah wore, not used to seeing her sister so done up.

In response, Sairah rolled her eyes and said, “Bite me. I came straight here from the restaurant. I bet this shake has more calories than whatever the hell kind of dish they served me.” She took a few sips before asking, “So how did it go today?”

McKenzie shrugged her shoulders in response, “About how I expected it to go. Once they found out, no one really knew how to act around me, kept looking at me like I was gonna break. Brandon, all but ignored me, except for asking me if I had told anyone yet and when’s the fastest I could get my crap out.”

She didn’t have to look at Sairah to sense the tensing in her.

“He didn’t do anything else, did he? You know I’ll fuck him up.” Her voice was hardened no matter how much she tried to sound airy and humorous.

Shaking her head and taking another sip of her shake, she responded, “Nah, I wasn’t there when he told everyone, but apparently he wasn’t exactly so forthcoming.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lisa said he made it sound like it was a mutual decision, like we both decided to call it quits,” McKenzie shrugged again, “but whatever, who cares, it’s over now.”

“Don’t you think everyone should know what happened? He shouldn’t get to hide behind some lame ‘we just decided we’re better off as friends’ shit.”

“You know how it is for him, everybody loves him.” McKenzie sighed.

“They love you, too. The fuck?” Sairah interjected.

McKenzie shook her head, practically ignoring the comment, “Anything he tells them, they have no reason not to believe him. If I say anything that counters him, it’s just gonna look like I’m trying to stir up trouble. Who would even believe me and think that I’m not just trying to save face?”

“So the alternative is to let him walk all over you?! What in the hell is wrong with you?”

“Sairah, please, just drop it,” frustration heavy in her voice, “I don’t care. It’s over. I just want to move on because at the end of the day, nothing I say is gonna change things. I don’t want to be difficult or make things difficult for everyone, I’ve done enough of that already.”

Sairah’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, “Who said you’re making things difficult, McKenzie?”

McKenzie sucked in a deep breath and looked straight ahead at the quiet neighborhood road.

“Did B tell you that?” Sairah pressed.

“Sairah…”

“He told you you make things difficult?”

Below what little composure she had, Sairah was fuming. Her fists danced at her sides as she looked at her older sister, unrecognizable from the usual no nonsense, feisty woman she had always been. She didn’t have to answer, her solemn demeanor was all the confirmation she needed. It infuriated Sairah to realize just how deep-rooted the problems in her sister’s relationship truly were.

Full disclosure, Sairah had never really liked him. Tolerated him because he was a Street Wolf. It was usually Sairah who was the solemn, reserved sister. That afforded her the luxury of sometimes being inconspicuous. And with her mother’s nosiness, she noticed a lot. So she saw straight through the bullshit and knew him to be the arrogant, narcissistic asshole that was hidden underneath the charming personality and jesting humor. Her unnerved feeling of him only intensified when he and McKenzie got together. She kept to only subtle comments and snarky cracks about him to McKenzie, but she knew her sister was going to do whatever she wanted no matter anyone’s opinion. Outright voicing her disapproval was a waste of words, even though she never hid her disinterest in their relationship.

McKenzie seemed happy, so who was Sairah to intercept that? There were even a few moments where she felt like she may have misjudged B, but they never lasted long. After a couple of years, their relationship grew turbulent and the amount of times where they were hot or cold dizzied Sairah. She’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the relationship to finally end once and for all.

But then one day, McKenzie shows up to family dinner with an engagement ring on her finger. Her smile was blinding and it was quite possibly the happiest she’d ever seen her big sister. So Sairah shed any inhibitions and forbade herself from making any kind of negative comments, no matter how subtle or joking they may be. This man was going to truly be family now, she needed to learn how to play nice once and for all.

But then the honeymoon phase of their engagement was over in only a few days. Somewhere in that week’s time, McKenzie had gone from walking on sunshine to the distant and quiet woman that sat in front of her. The fallout had been worse than anything Sairah could’ve imagined, not because she had witnessed some kind of huge blowout or even physical violence, but because the sister she had always known had devolved into demureness and invisibility. Sure, she still had some moments of fierceness and headstrongness, but she had become more timid. A shell of herself. There were times that her sister’s reticence scared her, never having before associating meekness with McKenzie. She used to think her sister’s worst quality was her grudge-holding, but she’d take it back in a heartbeat if it meant McKenzie was less content in letting herself be walked over. Brandon had been the change in sharp 180, she knew that. But she didn’t exactly know what he had done or what he’s still been doing to cause such a shift in her.

Tonight, though? She was beginning to get some idea.

Hearing how she was so quick to place the blame solely on her, Sairah knew that those words weren’t hers. All their years together had to have included some kind of manipulation or grooming that led her to being so comfortable in saying those words and having that sentiment. They were words that had probably been ingrained in her over and over again for them to have come out so effortlessly.

The thought made Sairah ill.

“Let’s go inside,” McKenzie suddenly said as she hoisted herself up from the step she was sitting on, “I wanna make sure we get everything tonight so we don’t have to come back.” She unlocked the door and led a riled Sairah into the house. Sairah bit her words back and silently followed. The conversation was nowhere near done, but it was already late into the night. And also, just being in his place only further embittered Sairah, so the quicker they get out, the better.

Sairah’s eyes adjusted to the light as she came in from the nightfall. The home was pretty unfamiliar to her despite McKenzie living here for close to a year. The only two times she had been here were the first couple of days when she had moved in. It seemed only fitting that her last time at this place would be when moving her sister out.

“Alright, most of my stuff is in here.” McKenzie said as she walked upstairs to the main hallway. She stopped when she got to the second door on the left, not realizing the slowing in Sairah’s steps. Sairah took her time as she looked around and what she saw only served to unnerve her more.

The place looked like a bachelor’s pad. She did a spin as she walked up the steps and couldn’t find even one thing that looked different from the last times she was here. She was confused at the absence of McKenzie’s books lying around or any family pictures lining the walls. There was nothing she could pinpoint that looked like it belonged to McKenzie.

When she followed her sister into the guest room, her confusion only grew. There were several boxes scattered around the guest bed. Some were packed up, some were open. There was dust around the ones that were closed shut and Sairah could have sworn that that was where McKenzie had placed them when she had first moved in.

“...Did you already start packing yesterday?”

McKenzie had started on an open box when she answered, “Nah, I just grabbed a duffle bag with some stuff and left.”

Sairah paused, “Ok, so you’re telling me you never unpacked…”

Her words were gentle and careful, and she couldn’t tell whether that was for her sake or McKenzie’s.

McKenzie shrugged, nonchalantly, “The stuff I need is in the bedroom.”

Sairah shook her head sadly, “Kenz, it doesn’t even look like you live here.”

She blew air through her teeth as she traipsed to the closet. “He likes his stuff and it was his place before I moved in. We were gonna buy a new place together once we got married, so I figured…” McKenzie shrugged, leaving her statement unfinished as she grabbed some of her clothes from the guest closet, “You know I’m a pack rat, anyway.”

The sisters let the silence permeate as they worked together to fold clothes, pack belongings, and tape boxes. Sairah had gone from angered to melancholic and McKenzie was just happy for the questions to have stopped. They found a smooth rhythm together and found that they would be finishing up sooner than they thought.

It wasn’t until they were nearly done that Sairah spoke again.

“So how was SAMCRO?”

A beat passed before McKenzie spoke, “They were cool. Everyone seems to get along. They’re probably getting hammered as we speak.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll stop by before work and meet everyone. They’ll all be hungover, there’s no way they’re getting any work done tomorrow. Maybe while I’m there, me and B can have a chat.”

“Sairah.”

They let out matching exasperated sighs, both tired of the other. But Sairah conceded, with her hands up.

“I’m sorry.” She looked up and captured McKenzie’s eyes. “I really am. I’m sorry. I just- I hate him.”

“Okay, well let’s finish taping up these boxes and hate him together.”

Before long, Sairah was taking boxes to the car while McKenzie continued her last minute packing. She went from room to room, scavenging the area for any of her belongings. It was through that search that McKenzie realized the depth of Sairah’s words. She was right, there wasn’t much she could find that belonged to her. She’d been living here for a year, and everything she had could be boxed up and put into the backseat of her sister’s car. The sparseness made her question if she was ever really a resident here, instead of just a guest. To anyone looking from the outside, she was sure that they’d categorize her as the latter. It was sobering to think that she had never been allowed to make this place theirs and it was sobering for her to just realize this all now.

“Alright, we’ve got most of everything.” She heard Sairah’s voice coming up the steps as she stood in her now former bedroom with her last box of things. “Everything fit. There’s even room for more if-”

She paused when she noted the pensive look across her sister’s features, “What’s up?” She probed.

Snapping out of her realizations, McKenzie replied, “Uh, nothing. I’ve got the last of everything.” She held up her last box, mostly comprised of random, miscellaneous items she’d found in her final sweep of the place. “Got any more tape?”

“In the kitchen, I’ll go get it.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll just bring it down.”

Sairah nodded in response, “Alright, well, if that’s the last of it, let’s dip.”

McKenzie only made a few steps before the box had slipped from her grasp. The opened cardboard sent the various items scattering all across the hardwood floor. With a groan, McKenzie bent down to begin retrieving the box’s contents while Sairah followed in suit. They grabbed everything in sight and McKenzie reached under the bed, where she saw her lemon squeezer roll away under.

She blindly felt around for it, waiting to feel the hard metal material. Instead, her eyes narrowed in confusion as she felt a soft material meet her hand. It was satin and when McKenzie pulled it out, she was met with the sight of a dusty pink nightgown. She silently licked her lips and closed her eyes, centering her mind.

Sairah crouched there, watching the reaction in confusion. She jumped a bit when she watched McKenzie angrily throw the material back under the bed and rise back up.

“Uh, do you not want that?”

“It’s not mine.”

She left her lemon squeezer under the bed and walked out of the room with the box grasped firmly in her hands. She hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen to tape it up, not wanting the contents to fall out again.

Sairah rigidly followed behind once the implications of her sister's words registered.

McKenzie could hear the words “piece of shit” uttered from her sister's mouth several seconds before then hearing the front door shut. Only, Sairah was in front of her, leaning against the kitchen archway.

Brandon’s voice echoed through the front hallway as he walked into the space, “McKenzie, you still here?”

McKenzie and Sairah’s eyes met and with everything in her, McKenzie poured pleading and supplication into her face. Sairah took a pause, as if she was thinking about it, before pushing herself from against her leaned position in the archway and silently stalked out of the house. It wasn’t before she threw a look of disbelief and disappointment McKenzie’s way and fiery eyes at Brandon.

There was a brief, uncomfortable air when Brandon’s eyes met Sairah’s. She almost wished he said something, anything to give her a reason to lash out, but he merely waved with a blank look on his face before heading to the kitchen.

“What’s up her ass?”

McKenzie clicked against her tongue, deciding against saying anything. The less words the better, because almost anything was bound to start a fight between them.

“I got everything, I think, but if you see anything I might have missed, just leave it at the clubhouse and I’ll get it.” Her voice was firm, succinct, and hopefully left no room for argument. She was tired of showing him weakness and she refused to leave their relationship with anything less than her head held high.

“Sounds good,” he shrugged.

With a sigh, she walked around the counter and towards him while reaching inside her pocket. The velvet box that held her engagement ring inside was now grasped between her fingers. The symbol of their forever was now his and his only.

She wordlessly handed it to him, and swiftly returned her hand to her side once she had done so. As he looked down at it, he toyed with it in his hands.

After a few seconds, he whispered, “I am sorry, McKenzie. I-I really wanted this to work.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, working to keep her tears at bay. She avoided looking away from his stare, wanting to see what lay on his features as he spoke. She wanted to find sincerity, she wanted to believe that his words were true. But she didn’t need to look at it to know that they were indeed false. She simply couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in her gut that told her he wasn’t sorry for a damn thing. If anything, he was saying those words for her benefit.

Before she let the walls close in around her, she simply turned around towards the door. The weight of what she was leaving was hitting her full force, but she refused to let it stop her in her tracks. The long years of dysfunction, broken promises, and heartbrokenness kept her moving. She only paused long enough to open the front door and turn her head back.

Their eyes met for the last time that night, “Bye, Brandon.”

************

Jax glanced around at the party in full swing. Drinks were flowing, music was bumping, and there was unadulterated fun everywhere he looked. He had already had a few beers along with some food and whooped Opie and Rev’s ass in pool. That was about as much mayhem he was getting into tonight, but that didn’t mean the festivities were by any means mild.

Ace and Juice had started a keg competition that currently consisted of Half-Sack doing a handstand on the keg while chugging straight from the nozzle. Kozik, Bobby, and Flu were attempting to try and stay upright after the numerous shots taken between them. Happy and Chibs were currently occupying the pool table that Jax had recently vacated, attempting to pull in Rev and Opie for a game of eight-ball. Sweets had barely left the dancefloor as he bopped and swayed around with any woman who gave him the time of day, which was practically every woman, given his silky moves and suave flirtations. Everyone was having a good time and it warmed Jax’s heart to see.

Sliding his way through the crowd, Jax made his way over to Gil, who was also looking around at the expanse of the Garden and taking in all the joy and celebration. He’d been bundled up in a booth for most of the night, silently reveling in all of the jubilee. Lisa was sitting next to him and she generously handed Jax an unopened beer as he got closer to the circular booth. With a silent smile, Gil gestured for him to join them and take a seat.

“Thanks Lisa.” Jax flashed her a smile as he opened the beer.

Without any more words needing to be said, the trio sat back, relaxed, and beamed in the inaugural party of their alliance.

Meanwhile, across the bar, Rev was interrupted from making his shot as he felt his shoulders being shaken roughly. An already inebriated Brandon was behind him, flashing him the widest of smiles.

“Rev, I finally did it, man!,” He spoke jubilantly, not even paying attention to Rev’s confused eyes or the hesitant eyes of the few SAMCRO members who were playing eight-ball with Rev.

“What did you do?” Rev asked as he looked around, “Didn’t you just get here? How the hell are you already drunk?” His nose fluttered at the unwelcoming scent of alcohol hitting it.

“Ay, yo, Ace grab me a bottle of tequila!” B’s voice boomed around the bar as he yelled for some Don Julio. He turned back to Rev, “I’m officially a free man, brother,” He spoke with a wide grin on his face.

Rev’s face was still full of confusion which prompted B to go further. “She’s out the house, man! Her and Sairah just left with all her shit. She gave me the ring back and everything. Now all I gotta do is find me a dime piece to take back with me.”

Rev’s face contorted into agitation. His voice was shrouded in warning as he lowered it to speak to B.

“You might wanna cool it on the drinks, man. You just got here, pace yourself.” There was cautioning in his tone, but it didn’t seem to register in Brandon. There was a luminous gleam in his eyes and the broadest of smirks. He actually looked genuinely thrilled for his relationship to be over, not the forced kind of “I’m fine” façade that most guys might put on to save face. No, he looked like he was ready to live his best life, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Rev was torn between letting him be and causing an even bigger scene. B’s drunkenness wasn’t allowing him to take any of Rev’s words seriously, but Rev knew if he raised his voice or got aggressive, it would gain more attention to everyone.

Jax was the only one who’d noticed when B walked in. He’d only initially taken a quick glance as he looked out at the rest of the party, but his eyes returned to those two as he noticed the tenseness in Rev’s stance. Whatever was going on was obviously perplexing the usually cool-headed vice president.

“Look, are you okay, man? You really don’t gotta be all tough guy about this.” Rev spoke as softly as he could over the loud music.

“This may be a shitty thing to say, but I’m actually fantastic.” Brandon shrugged his shoulders and took a large swallow straight out of the bottle that Ace had passed to him. The dopey grin hadn’t washed off in the slightest.

Rev’s eyebrows rose slightly with an inch of disappointment, “And what about McKenzie? Is she alright?”

“I don’t know, really, but then again, not my problem anymore, y’know? Even if I did ask, she’d never give me a straight answer, so what’s the point? You know how she is, always making things difficult.”

Rev opened his mouth to speak, but B cut in, ready to change the subject.

“All that matters is that I finally get to have some fun!” He moved to brush past him, but Rev planted a firm hand against his chest and blocked him from going further.

“Aye man, think for a minute. Do what you want, but you just broke up with McKenzie. It ain’t a good look to be wildin’ out, not in front of Gil.”

“What does it matter, she ain’t here and we’re not together. Besides, I got some catching up to do,” his words were to Rev, but his eyes were on a random woman across the bar, nursing a coke and rum. “Later, man.”

The night continued to wear on, filled with music, drinks, and festivities. Jax had found himself at the bar, partaking in a few shots with Happy and Sweets. Gil had taken Lisa out on the dance floor for a few numbers, enjoying themselves to Bobby’s karaoke singing. Opie, Flu, and Chibs were the first ones to retire for the night not long ago, but vied for crashing upstairs instead of riding home. Ace, Half-Sack, and Juice were somehow still going heavy on the drinks, transitioning into some weird kind of video game trivia contest where getting the wrong answer resulted in taking jello shots. Rev had gone to try and settle Brandon down once again. Jax couldn’t make out what their earlier conversation was, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure he was trying to keep Brandon on the straight and narrow right about now.

Jax debated whether he was ready to go home or not. His body was beginning to wear down on him and it’s not like he had anywhere super important to go tomorrow. Everyone would be too busy nursing their hangovers for them to get actual business done. But Jax had yet to make his move, still perched on the bar stool, eating stale peanuts.

“You good, Jax?” Lisa’s out-of-breath voice was beginning to calm as she leaned against the back of the bar.

He nodded as he looked at her grabbing a bottle of water. “Yeah. You tired yourself out there, huh?” He asked as he gestured towards the dance floor that was becoming less populated as the early morning hours crept in.

Lisa giggled. “Yeah, I’m not old, but I also ain’t that young anymore. Gil and I used to close out a dance floor, no matter the occasion. Wedding, patchover, birthday, you name it.”

They shared a laugh together.

“So… I think Flu mentioned in the club meeting earlier that you have another daughter? Didn’t see her or McKenzie tonight.” Jax wondered if his questioning came across as subtle as he wanted it to. He wasn’t sure why he was asking or inquiring about McKenzie, but as soon as the curiosity spiked him, he couldn’t help but ponder. “Pretty much everyone else was here, but they weren’t. Was just wondering…”

His questioning didn’t pass by Lisa’s own inquisitiveness, but she also didn’t let on that she found his inquiries peculiar.

“Sairah had a work meeting tonight and she’s kind of a wallflower, anyway. Doesn’t really like parties, but she’s around pretty often. McKenzie… Well, these days she avoids this place like the plague.”

“‘Cause of Brandon.” Jax surmised.

Lisa merely looked at him and he couldn’t quite decipher the carefulness on her face. Before he could apologize for potentially overstepping, she spoke.

“Hmm, you pick up on things quick. Although, I guess the break up makes things somewhat self-explanatory.”

“Is she doing alright?” He questioned, watching the older woman take a pause and think through her words with a sigh.

“She’s hanging in there, definitely not taking it as well as B. I think the whole damn club is taking it harder than him,” She replied with bitterness in her tone. Then, she waved a hand as if to calm herself from getting agitated. “She’ll be okay. She’s a Gilbert, she’ll bounce back strong. I’ve been meaning to ask, by the way, do you two know each other?”

Jax felt his breath hitch in his throat. His mind blanked for a second, but thankfully he still had one more shot in front of him. He picked it up and as nonchalantly as possible responded, “Nah, why do you ask?” before kicking it back.

“I saw you kept looking at her earlier at brunch, just figured maybe you knew her from somewhere.” She shrugged as she held her hand out for the now empty shot glass from him.

“Nah, we don’t know each other.” He responded with a reassuring smirk, as he internally chose his words carefully, “I just thought she looked familiar, I guess.”

“Hmm. I just didn’t know if you guys were friends or something. She could really use some. With everything going on…” Lisa paused, as if she was reconsidering her words.

Jax prodded, “What?”

Lisa sighed and looked at him, “Everyone here, they all love McKenzie, she’s family. But it’s different. Brandon is a member. So even if they don’t mean to, I’m just afraid they’re gonna side with him. You may not understand it from this side, but I know you know what I mean. Just the whole club culture, in general.” She vented. “McKenzie doesn’t really have a lot of friends outside of the club, so I guess I just worry. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, I’m not trying to pit you against either side, that shouldn’t even be your concern.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Jax assured her, “You’re just doing what a good mom does, worrying about her kids. I won’t take sides, I promise. I’m just trying to get along with everyone and make sure everyone gets along with me.”

Lisa nodded in understanding and a glint of approval, “Smart. The best presidents are diplomatic,” She mused with a chuckle, which he also joined in on.

“But even though I’m not trying to get involved, doesn’t mean you can’t vent if you need to.” He smiled, which she mirrored.

“I like you, Jax Teller,” she declared with a point of her finger.

A/N: Reblogging this doubles as a "Fuck Brandon" button so please press it, thanks!

Anyway, things will be ramping UP in the next couple of chapters so I'm really excited for y'all to see what happens next. I actually cut some of the scenes from this chapter, but if y'all are interested in me posting them as kind of like "deleted scenes" I could do that. Nothing vital is missing, just a little more backstory and building of relationships.

I hope y'all enjoyed! I wanna thank y'all for all the love and support you've shown this story. Pls continue to like, reblog, and leave reviews. I really like to hear what y'all think!

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