#I know its late for Connor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dunnerlars · 5 months ago

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always attract - matthew tkachuk

pairing: matthew tkachuk x fem!reader summary: matthew mistakenly tells your brother that you're his date to his wedding. word count: 5.7k warnings: none? i don't think a/n: this is my fic for @sc0tters for the #the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the wonderful @wyattjohnston! i haven't written in forever so this was fun to dive into- and it's not beta'd because i'm terrified to ask someone to look it over so all mistakes are my own 😅

—

Matthew 🐀: I know its 5am for you but i think fucked up

Matthew 🐀: Will you be my date to your brothers wedding

The text has you blinking rapidly as you check the time, your phone bright in the dark of the room. Why the fuck is he up right now? Squinting, you see it’s just past 5am and groan, falling back into bed and wondering what the fuck Matthew’s even talking about. It takes a second for you to put everything together, mind failing to keep up with the words date, wedding, and brother.

Me: Sorry what??? What are you talking about

Matthew 🐀: we’re at connor’s bach party and leon asked if i had a date yet and i might’ve told connor you were going to be my date

Me: It’s 5AM

Matthew 🐀: i know we’re heading back to the hotel now but Please b my date

Me: What did connor say?

You huff and roll over, sitting up to turn the light on your nightstand on. Matthew hadn’t responded back yet and you quick to type:

Me: Is he pissed??

Matthew 🐀: its hard to tell w him you know? So what do you say? Date? To the wedding? pleaseeeeeeee

Suddenly a knot forms in your stomach at the thought and despite it not being your fault you feel guilty for Connor thinking you were hiding something from him. Matthew is your friend….He wouldn’t be the worst date. Might as well get something out of it.

Me: What’s in it for me?

Matthew 🐀: literally whatever

Having a favor from Matthew could come in handy at some point, you think. And it could be worth all of this fucking nonsense he’s putting you through at now 5:22am.

Me: Fine, but you owe me a no-barred favor. I can ask for whatever, whenever I want no matter what.

You pause-

Me: How did this even happen?

Matthew 🐀: i’ll explain tomorrow and we can figure out details!!! Thnks babe 😘

Rolling your eyes, you set your phone back down on the nightstand and sigh. It’s almost too much to think about how quickly Connor and Matthew had become close over the last couple of weeks. You’d thought for sure there would be some residual hate from the Panthers Cup win but then Matthew had invited Connor out to his day with the Cup and it was love at first bro hug or whatever excuse they used. And despite the invites going out months ago, Connor had finagled an invite for Matthew and now here you were.

Ever since your move to southern Florida last year, your growing friendship with Matthew had always bugged Connor so it was funny to you now, seeing the tables turned.

The vibration of your phone breaks you from your thoughts and you prepare yourself for another text from Matthew only to be surprised to see it’s a text from your brother.

Connor 👼🏻: So Tkachuk huh?

Deciding it was far too early to deal with this anymore, you turn the phone over and will yourself back to sleep.

—

It’s the next day when Matthew requests to FaceTime you, your phone ringing with a video call as you step outside to your backyard and get settled on a patio chair.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Matthew greets, his grin the most endearingly annoying thing about him.

“You don’t have to use lines on me, Matthew. I’ve already said yes,” you remind him, eyebrows raised as you try your best to glare at him. You take stock of his surroundings and frown. “Are you back in St. Louis already?”

“Yeah, I had a charity thing scheduled with my dad for tonight so I flew back late yesterday.”

“Oh.. Hope you’re not too hungover.”

He shrugs and regroups, sliding his sunglasses up into his curls. “I’m alright. So-,” he starts but you cut him off.

“I need you to explain to me what happened last night before we figure out everything else.” It’s something you’ve tried to piece together and you still haven’t texted Connor back, afraid you might break Matthew’s cover.

“Alright, that’s fair,” he nods, “We were walking back from a bar and Leon asked if I had a date to the wedding, since it was short notice that I was going. And the way he asked- it just really bugged me. Like his tone? I dunno. It just rubbed me wrong. And the guys were making shitty comments. Whatever.”

You know the tone Matthew’s referring to, grateful you’ve never been on the receiving end. Leon was a hard one to crack and it’d taken you at least a year to wear him down. Nodding at him to continue, he shifts his eyes and you can tell he’s embarrassed.

“So obviously I told them I had a date and they stopped and it was fine- until your brother pulled me back from the group and asked who I was bringing, so he could tell Lauren, and I panicked and said you,” he mumbles the next part, your ears straining to pick up the words, “And I might've mentioned we’ve been dating.”

You pause, wondering if Matthew just said what you think he did and yeah- he did. He at least has the nerve to look sheepish, apologetic. “Dating? Are you… What? Matthew!”

“Look, I was on the spot okay! And drunk! And it’s not like it’s out of the question. You’re one of my best friends. My mom loves you, I swear you talk to my sister more than I do. I can go on,” he shoots you a pleading look.

“Well when you put it that way, sure. I guess.”

“You guess? You know I’m right.”

Sighing, you nod. “Fine. Whatever. Did you give him any details? I can’t imagine Connor didn’t have a million questions, I tell him everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Matthew, that’s not the point. Did he question you at all?”

“No. Just patted me on the shoulder and we caught up with everyone else.”

“Huh.”

That’s…. Weird. And out of character for your brother, who’s nosy as fuck when it comes to your personal life. Maybe he already thinks it’s all a lie. Or is just actually super pissed, which isn’t any better. Would this even be worth it? How often would a favor from Mattew come in handy? Okay, actually pretty handy. He’s got money, connections. Could be good to have for things you don’t wanna ask Connor for… Ugh.

Glancing up, you catch Matthew waiting for you to say something and his curls catch the back light of the St. Louis sun from behind him, casting an almost halo glow around his head. His eyes are bright, sunglasses still tucked up on the top of his head. Two front teeth catching his bottom lip and biting and God, he’s pretty.

Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea. What could go wrong?

“Alright, let’s figure this out…”

—

It’s hours later when you finally work up the nerve to call Connor, lying in bed after a long day. Since he hadn’t questioned Matthew for details, it was easy enough to make up a backstory for you and Matthew: it’s only been a couple of months, things aren’t serious but they’re fun and easy and you both like each other enough that it’s exclusive. Which was all real except that when you hung out, it just wasn’t a date. Because you weren’t dating. Nope.

The call finally connects, sure you were almost going to get his voicemail, and Connor greets you with, “Thanks for letting me know you’re alive.”

It’s easy to tell by the tone of his voice, short, quick and void of any emotion, that he’s disappointed because it’s the voice you know he uses when he loses a game he felt they should’ve won.

“You’re mad.”

“And why am I mad?”

“Because-”

“Because I found out you’ve been secretly dating Tkachuk behind my back, from him? Why did I have to find out from him and not you, my own sister? Was this going on throughout our entire Cup series? Or has it been longer?”

Fuck.

“Matthew lying to me is- It’s whatever. You’re my sister. Why didn’t you tell me? What about telling me made you straight up lie when I’ve asked you about your trips up to wherever the fuck the Panthers play? Or when he’s down there with you?”

Fort Lauderdale your mind supplies but you know it won’t do any good to say so.

“You always made it seem like it was just buddies when you told me you were meeting with him for lunch or whatever, someone that reminded you of home, but I guess that’s what made it so easy, huh?” The heat in Connor’s voice has petered out, like he’s figuring it all out and he sighs. “Fuck. I’m sorry. This is probably why you didn’t want to say anything to me.”

“It really was just friends, Con. I promise,” you tell him. “Then… I dunno. Things just got more real. I didn’t want to see anyone else and he didn’t either. It’s only been a couple of months, I swear.”

“So, through the series, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Connor lets out a long breath, like he’s deciding his next words carefully. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me. I get it. It wasn’t the best reaction.”

“No shit,” you laugh.

“But you’re coming to the wedding together?” You hear someone shout in the background and grin when you recognize Lauren’s voice. “Lauren wants to know if she should switch your escort down the aisle to Chucky.”

“I mean,” you pause, thinking. It would be nice to know who was walking down with you, one of Lauren’s second cousins or something was supposed to be your escort but having Matthew on your arm would be nice. “Yeah, sure. As long as it doesn’t fuck anything up on her end.”

Connor grunts, “As if Lauren would let anything fuck that day up. It’s fine. Let Chucky know for us, yeah? She’s making the calls already.”

“Alright. Thanks, Con. And tell Lauren thank you too.”

“Will do. Love ya, kiddo. Sorry I freaked out.”

You roll your eyes. Brothers.

“Love you too. I’ll text you once I talk to him.”

Lauren and Connor both shouted their goodbyes as you hung up.

Me: So you’re gonna be my escort down the aisle next week in the wedding 🙂

Matthew 🐀: Fuck you

Me: You wish

Matthew 🐀: well yeah

Of course he didn’t mean it like that- Matthew always down for a joke, and you calm your racing heart, gulping down some water.

So now you not only have a fake boyfriend but also said (fake) boyfriend was going to walk you down the aisle at your brother’s wedding. In a week. Great.

—

You fly into St. Louis. The plan was to meet up with Matthew on the Saturday before the wedding and then you’d fly up to Toronto and drive up to Muskoka together on Wednesday. Trying to keep up appearances, Matthew had said. Thankfully the flight from Miami to Missouri wasn’t too terrible, even if the lady that was sat next to you had a perfume on that made you nauseous.

Matthew had texted you that he was idling on the curb, waiting, and once you had your bags, you headed outside into the muggy heat. The loud honk of a horn coming from a giant black SUV startles you and Matthew rolls down the window with a laugh, “Come on, they’re gonna make me move again.”

It was tempting to make him squirm but you caught the eye of one of the traffic guards and scurry forward, dumping your bags into the backseat before jumping into the passenger’s side.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he grins, turning on his blinker before merging onto the road. “Seatbelt please.”

The quietness of the truck surprises you as you buckle your seatbelt, having expected some kind of rap music or sports podcast to be playing through the speakers. Or at least that’s what he normally was listening to when you’d meet up in Miami, and he’d pick you up at your apartment. The silence was comfortable though, the quiet hum of the AC and the tapping of Matthew’s fingers against the steering wheel filling the cab. His posture was relaxed, slouched in the driver’s seat.

Matthew swats lightly at your thigh, pulling your attention away from the window, “You should let Connor know you’re here.”

Digging through your bag, you search for your phone and fire off a quick text to the group chat with your brother and parents that you’d made it safely to St. Louis and were with Matthew, heading back to his house.

“So, how was the flight?”

Well it was fine in the sense that nothing went wrong and there weren’t any screaming babies and you managed to fall asleep since you’d been up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure you got to the airport in time but- Well. Your dreams had been filled with flashes of Matthew’s smile and his laugh and how he always managed to make you feel better after a bad day at work and he’d called just to say he was bored and was wondering what you were doing and, and and-.

Where was this even coming from?

You obviously couldn’t say all of that so you shrug, “It was okay. The lady next to me must’ve bathed in perfume because I almost gagged but I pulled a mask on and managed to fall asleep against the window.”

Matthew whistles in sympathy, “God that’s always the worst.”

Nodding, you chew on your bottom lip and turn to face him in your seat and get a good look at him. “You look nice.”

And he did. There was something different about him and you weren’t sure if it was the glowing tan that covered his neck and arms, the blonde that was starting to weave its way into the curls that sat neatly on his head, or just the ease at which he was holding himself but he looked different. Maybe part of it was the fact that the last time you’d seen Matthew in person was right after the Panthers victory and he’d been dog tired and worn out, bushy beard and clothes hanging off his frame. This Matthew was refreshed and had a Stanley Cup under his belt, carefree and like nothing could bring him down.

Matthew glances at you quickly, a sly smile overtaking his face. “Yeah? Well, gotta look good for my girlfriend ya know? Figured I’d shower, at the very least.”

Wait.

“Your parents don’t think we’re dating, right?”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head with a honking laugh, “Nah, I explained to them what happened. My mom’s excited to see you again though. And Taryn.”

“Not your dad?”

Pulling off the highway, he chuckles and shrugs. “Big Walt’s not home. He’s on some golf trip for the week.”

It’s hard not to let your relief show. Keith wasn’t your favorite person and taking him out of the equation of this short trip was a small victory you were willing to celebrate. To yourself.

“Cool cool cool.”

“It’s okay that you don’t like him,” Matthew assures you as he pulls up to what you can only assume is his parents home. It wasn’t familiar to you in the way Matthew’s St. Louis home was becoming from all of the play-by-play videos he’s sent during his off time, describing the day he’s had while grabbing his mail, or going for a walk around the neighborhood while telling you about the latest update on Brady’s incoming baby or what he was going to have for dinner.

“I don’t like how he treats you,” you remind him, voice quiet.

It was no secret to Matthew how you felt about his father. You couldn’t even begin to count how many times you’d heard Keith put him down through solo interviews or in passing comments from Matthew or even Tayrn, when she’d call to tell you about another argument the two of them had that she’d overheard.

Matthew nods, grimacing. “Well, we don’t have to deal with him while we’re here. Come on, let’s head in before my mom wonders why we’re sitting out here instead.”

The rest of the day was uneventful. You and Taryn hang out in the backyard with White Claws while she tells you horror stories from her last semester at college and Matthew flits in and out, helping his mom with dinner while also trying to get the juicy gossip. It was comfortable, even if the St. Louis air was sticky with humidity and dinner went by quickly and soon enough, you were back in Matthew’s car heading to his place.

“Well this is nice. Not as nice as the one in Florida but- nice,” you whistle, taking in the coziness of Matthew’s home. There was an overstuffed couch in the center of the living room, a coffee table littered with sports magazines, and further back you could see the kitchen with deep brown cabinets and hardwood floors to match. “Very cozy.”

“Yeah, my mom took care of most of it during the season. I just sent a bunch of pictures of things for her to copy,” Matthew shrugs, nodding up the stairs. “Uh, guest rooms are up there. You tired?”

“Really fucking tired.”

“Come on then, up we go.”

Matthew led the way up the stairs, carrying your suitcase. The temptation to smack his ass was a hard one to quell but you just barely managed when you hit the landing.

“So,” he points to the left. “That room I use as an office but it’s got an en suite. Bed’s kinda small though.” Pointing to the right, he glances at you before speaking. “That one’s closest to my room. Bigger bed. No bathroom though.”

“Well obviously I’m taking the bigger bed.” You nudge his arm with yours, taking the suitcase and heading towards the room. “So, plans for tomorrow: Taryn said something about getting lunch? I don’t know if you’re invited. Also you’ve gotta take me to that bakery here you’ve been talking about for months so I can judge the almond croissant you’ve deemed better than the ones from True Loaf. Which are the best. Obviously.”

As you dig through your suitcase in search of pajamas, you glance up to see Matthew leaning against the doorway with a weird smile on his face as he looks at you. “You good?”

“Yeah, just-,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “Glad to have you here. It’s been a while.”

“Happy to be here. Boyfriend.” You shoot him a wide grin, hoping it covers up the clear nervousness you’re feeling now that you’re settling in. Sleeping in his house.

Matthew snorts, shaking his head. “See you in the morning.”

��

The rest of your time in St. Louis was kind of great, all things considered. Matthew was an attentive host and Taryn and Chantal were eager to fill your time- from gossiping about the league, to things you needed to check out the next time you were in town. And Chantal had made you promise that you would- come back, that is, on your last night in St. Louis with the four of you crowded around the table in the backyard of Matthew’s house, sharing a bottle of wine and embarrassing stories.

You’d had to double, and triple check, with Matthew to make sure his mom or sister didn’t think the two of you were actually dating, especially when promises were being made to come back.

He’d just shrugged and said, “They just like you. I like you. Jeez, do people not tell you they like you?”

You were kind of bummed to be leaving as you packed your bag the morning of the flight up to Toronto, Matthew’s obnoxious singing ringing loudly throughout the house. After combing through the room a third time, you deemed it free and clear of your belongings and headed down the stairs, rolling your suitcase next to Matthew’s and chuckled at the sight before you as you turned towards the kitchen.

Singing horribly out of tune with Dancing Queen blasting on his phone’s speaker, was Matthew dancing like an idiot around the island in the center of his kitchen, eyes closed and belting the lyrics.

“Matthew.”

The live concert comes to an end, Matthew scrambling to pause the music. “Sorry,” he replies, ears tinged red in embarrassment.

“Hey no complaints from me, but Taryn’s gonna be here in a minute,” you remind him, the fond smile on your face giving away far too much.

Matthew pockets his phone, nodding. He holds your gaze for a second before asking, “Come here?”

As soon as you’re a couple of steps away, Matthew pulls you into his chest and you go with a surprised oof.

“Thank you. For doing this.”

You turn your head into his chest, ear pressed against where his heart was and find comfort in the timed beating while you nod. “You’re welcome,” you mumble, turning your chin up and glancing at him.

Your gazes lock, his blue eyes searching yours. For what, you’re unsure but he seems to find the answers he’s looking for a short minute later, because he gives you another squeeze and steps back, letting out a breath.

“I’ll grab the bags if you can shut the lights off?”

You’re already on it as Matthew walks away, flipping the switch in the kitchen and checking the backdoor to make sure it’s locked. The living room lights are next, and you meet him at the front door, catching Taryn’s car parked on the curb waiting.

The drive to the airport is short, the early morning hours more forgiving with traffic and after giving Taryn a quick hug and a promise to text her when you both landed, you stepped away to give her and Matthew some privacy while dropping your bags at the kiosk outside.

“Ready?” He asks, as you both wave goodbye to Taryn as she pulls away from the curb.

“Let’s do this.”

The flight is smooth for how short it is, 2 hours passing by quickly. Arriving in Toronto is a nightmare, as usual, and Matthew spends over 30 minutes at the rental car desk trying to figure out where your reservation went. Eventually it gets sorted out and you’re on the road, tucked into the passenger seat of a sports car that you didn’t ask for.

“If I fall asleep, don’t get mad at me please,” you yawn, pulling your feet up under you to get comfortable and leaning on the center console.

“Want me to turn the radio down?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your answer, his hand going for the volume knob but you stop him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“No, it’s good. I know it helps keep you awake.” Pulling your hand away from his slowly you tuck it underneath your head and nudge your forehead against his arm. “Thank you for driving, by the way.”

“Happy to, honestly. Driving helps me clear my head,” he tells you, glancing down and shooting you a grin.

You’re tempted to ask what’s going on with him- he’s been acting a little out of character since this morning but sense that he’s not ready to talk about it, so you just hum in acknowledgement and turn into your arms, willing for sleep to find you.

Thankfully you manage to fall asleep on the ride up, a small 2 hour nap doing the trick because you wake up feeling rested.

The cottages were set on the lake in Muskoka where everyone would be staying for the wedding and you and Matthew were set to share one with your parents with Connor and Lauren next door in the one they own and spend his off season in.

Your mom and dad are sat on the front porch in a set of rocking chairs as Matthew pulls up and you’re quick to jump out of the car once it stops, calling out to them as they wave to you in greeting while he grabs the bags out of the trunk, “Long time, no see!”

Once hellos and introductions are done, with your dad and Matthew bonding what feels like instantly and your mom hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, the four of you make the small trek over to Connor and Lauren’s for dinner after dropping your bags off.

Dinner is comfortable, Matthew sat on your right with his arm draped across the back of your chair the whole time. Connor doesn’t give you two any weird looks and you count it as a win as you settle down for the night, avoiding talking about the fact that there’s only one bed in the room while you both brush your teeth.

“I forget how involved these things are,” Matthew says, leaning against the counter watching while you finish washing your face.

“Weddings? Yeah, I mean. I think this is a little different, though,” you laugh, pat drying your face. “Lauren’s dialed everything up to a thousand for it.”

Matthew nods, thinking about it. “I’ve noticed,” he finally answers with, nudging you out of the bathroom.

“And there was one bed,” you dramatically announce, sweeping your arms around the room and Matthew honest to god giggles which causes you to start giggling, both of you falling into a heap on the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Clearing his throat, Matthew grunts, “We’re adults, we can share a bed. Right?” His head turns towards yours and you swallow, realizing how close the two of you are.

If you scooted an inch closer, you’d be able to tilt your head up and press your lips to his and- No.

“Right,” you finally manage to mumble out.

The air is stilted while you both turn down the bed, shuffling under the covers once the light is out and you make sure to stay tucked to your side of the bed, legs curled under you and knees almost hanging off the bed.

This was going to be a long weekend.

—

From morning yoga to late night barbecues, swimming and then rehearsals, you were exhausted. Not to mention keeping up appearances with Matthew: hand holding, arms wrapped around waists, and too many forehead kisses to count were wearing on you. It was starting to feel real and thinking about what was to come when the weekend was over and you’d go your separate ways was overwhelming.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, which was hard enough, was that the last week or so with Matthew had been nothing short of amazing. You didn’t date, really ever. It was hard enough being Connor McDavid’s sister and trying to figure out if someone actually wanted to be with you vs. wanting to know your brother and the perks it comes with but, with Matthew that didn’t exist. You didn’t have to question why he wanted to be around, and while yes, you know each other because of Connor, you were friends in your own right.

The morning of the wedding came quickly, finally managing to get a solid amount of sleep and it was easy to figure out why when you accounted for the fact Matthew’s chest was beneath your cheek when you woke up. So far you’d both managed to keep separate throughout the night, at least as far as you could tell since he was up before you most mornings so this was surprising.

Matthew shifts beneath you and you peer up as he blinks his eyes open, gaze catching yours. “Sorry,” you mumble, about to roll away when he catches you by the waist to hold you tight to him.

He groans deep in his chest as he stretches out and settles back against the pillows, content with a smile. “Mmm, don’t apologize. This is nice,” he tells you, thumb rubbing against the bare skin of your arm.

You hum in agreement before catching the time on the alarm clock opposite of you and sigh. “It is, but I’ve gotta get up. Bridesmaids duties call and if I’m late, Lauren will murder me and I’ve been having a nice time so I’d like to not ruin that.”

“I have too,” Matthew agrees, “I was nervous at first but it’s been kind of- fun? And having you around hasn’t been too terrible either.”

You pinch him in the side at that and he squawks, shuffling away. “Alright, alright. Damn,” he laughs, jumping out of bed. “I ruined the mood, I get it.”

A knock sounds on the door, your mother’s voice ringing out on the other side. “Sweetie, Lauren just called to make sure you’re awake. We’ve gotta head over soon.”

“I’ll be down in five,” you call back, throwing the covers off and shooting Matthew a glare.

His hands come up in surrender and you laugh, closing the bathroom door behind you.

You don’t have to do much before leaving, since the ladies are getting ready over at Connor and Lauren’s cottage and the guys are coming here. Washing up and grabbing your bag, you blow a sarcastic kiss to Matthew on your way out and he rolls his eyes and catches it before you leave and your mother just laughs, teasing you for how cute the both of you are.

The wedding is beautiful, as expected. The guest list is full of people who you’ve known most of your life, who have supported Connor throughout his career, and you’re immensely proud of the person he’s become.

You stand at the altar among Lauren’s best friends and watch your brother get married, near tears, seeing how happy he is. How happy they both are- you’re gaining a sister in her and it’s all kinds of crazy magical, how everything’s come together and that includes having Matthew as your date because he’s been kind of the best.

Once dinner is done, the cake is cut and the happy couple has come through and been announced and their first dance out of the way, the dance floor opens up and everyone lets loose. The DJ is fun and plays throwback after throwback and Matthew keeps close to you, offering to refill your drink or ask if you need a break when slow songs come on. Eventually you do, toeing off your shoes and hiding them under your chair before slumping into the table.

“I am pooped,” you whine, blowing your hair out of your face and groaning into your arms.

“It’s a little early to be tapping out, babe,” Matthew chuckles, finishing off his beer.

“God, I know. Lauren will kill me if I leave early,” you glance around the dance floor for her and see Celeste behind her, arms wrapped around each other's necks and you smile. “Are you having fun? I’m not keeping you from anything? I know the guys are around here somewhere.”

Matthew’s quick to shake his head, nudging his knee with yours. “Nope, nowhere else I wanna be.” He licks his lips and you track the movement, mesmerized. “And yeah, lots of fun. You’re not too bad of a date.”

You snort, “Thanks. Really appreciate that.”

A few songs later and a discussion of the rest of your summer plans gone, you both join the dance floor again when a slow song hits. Matthew’s hands slide low on your waist and your hands clasp behind his neck, swaying to the beat. The music is soft and you can hear the nighttime noises from the woods behind you, the lapping of the lake against the dock that’s not too far away. It’s calming and Matthew pulls you a little closer, your head just close enough to rest against his chest.

“Have you thought about the favor you want when this is all done?” He wonders, keeping his voice low so only you can hear.

Honestly you’d forgotten all about the deal you’d made- it wasn’t exactly a hardship to play fake girlfriend to Matthew because it wasn’t all that different to how you normally interacted with him. But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe there was something you wanted. More time.

You tell him honestly, “Yeah. Later though,” and tuck your face back into his chest and will for the moment to never end.

—

It does come to an end. The wedding dies down a couple of hours later, Connor and Lauren waving everyone off and thanking the guests for coming. You and Matthew are both sober enough to make the small trek back to the cottage next door and he holds your hand the entire way back, using the excuse of not wanting to lose you in the dark. It’s tempting to call him on it but you don’t want him to let go either.

Your parents are already settled in bed when you both tiptoe up the stairs and you sigh in relief when you’re finally back in the bedroom, closing the door and immediately chucking your heels across the room.

Settling in for the last night, you turn over and feel brave, scooting closer to Matthew in the dark.

“I don’t think I wanna fly back to Miami tomorrow,” you whisper, heart hammering. “I’ve still got the next week off and I was going to use it to catch up on some things around my apartment but I just. Don’t want to. You’re going back to St. Louis right?”

Matthew turns on his side to face you and you feel warmth spreading through your chest at the way he’s taking you in- like you’re something special, something to be taken care of.

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” he tells you. “What are you thinking?”

“That I’m ready to cash in my favor.”

“Alright, hit me. What’ve you got?”

The look Matthew’s giving you is encouraging and you suddenly feel brave and steadily say, “Go somewhere with me.”

Matthew reaches across the short distance and his hand catches yours, twining your fingers together and asks, “Where are we going?”

#my writing #the summer fic exchange 2k24 #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfic #matthew tkachuk fic #nhl #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl imagine

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 1 month ago

Note

hold on,hold on,Yandere!Conner Kent x reader🙏🏻

(sorry for bothering😭)

U ain't a bother and if anybody tells you that u do, then, they gonna face my pinky, my thumb and my fist they gonna run. 😼🐺🧏🏽‍♀️ nobody messes with my first ever anon 😠👊

Anyways

The night has fallen quietly over Metropolis, the cityscape softened under a blanket of stars. The world feels smaller somehow, contained within the walls of your apartment where Connor sits, angled slightly toward you, his gaze unwavering yet serene. He has that brooding, intense look—a mix of steel and tenderness—that you’ve come to recognize as uniquely his. It’s as though he’s carrying a burden, one he won’t let you see, and yet you feel its weight as if he’s drawn you into his orbit without permission.

“Connor,” you say softly, trying to break the quiet, “you’ve been… around a lot more lately.”

His eyes flicker, something shadowy dancing behind them, a vulnerability he usually keeps hidden. He doesn’t answer right away, just lets his gaze travel over your features as if memorizing every detail. The room feels charged, the air between you like the fine thread of a spider’s web—delicate and unbreakable all at once.

Finally, he speaks, his voice hushed but firm. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. Is that so wrong?”

There’s a faint, haunting cadence in his words, something raw and possessive yet laced with an almost tragic reverence. You feel the intensity radiating off him, a barely restrained storm beneath his calm exterior.

“Nothing could happen to you,” he continues, almost to himself. “Not on my watch. I’d make sure of that.”

You’ve always known Connor’s protectiveness runs deep, but tonight, it feels like there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. An edge, a quiet desperation that clings to the room, thick as fog.

“Connor…” you say his name with a gentle tone, hoping it might pull him out of whatever dark place he’s retreating into. He’s so close now, leaning forward, his hand reaching out as if compelled by some invisible force. When his fingers graze your cheek, his touch is featherlight, as though he fears you’ll vanish.

“If I could keep you here,” he whispers, his tone taking on a dreamy, almost poetic quality, “locked away from the world… I would. Not because I want to take anything from you, but because I… I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

It’s a confession wrapped in longing, and you see the truth of it in his eyes, where constellations seem to burn just for you. There’s something about his gaze that feels eternal, as if the universe itself has handed him the task of guarding you.

“You mean a lot to me,” he says finally, each word slow and deliberate, as though he’s trying to etch them into your soul. “More than you know.”

In that moment, his love feels like an uncharted ocean—beautiful and terrifying, with depths you’re not sure you’re ready to explore. But his sincerity anchors you, and, despite the intensity of his words, you can’t help feeling safe, cocooned in the quiet power of his devotion.

(A/n: is it just me or do you guys also feel suspicious of how I could post every day despite saying I'm too lazy to do so... Maybe my laziness hasn't kicked in yet which is weird and scary considering I'm writing dis rn in front of my 10 homework activities, and yes I am doing it last minute but so what...? I'm too lazy to do all of em and rn I'm don't know what I am talking about... I love yapping but I'm a introvert does it make me a extrovert when i talk too much but not as loud? Guys I'm turning crazy, I need someone to talk to and all my best friends are busy idk why they've been busy since last week....my gf is not replying for like 20 minutes now...im going crazy. Also sorry for spamming the Batfamily tag even though it's not the content I posted, I just feel like it's more famous than the others and also idk how to tag... Though mainly because I'm scared of being a flop hehe...)

#yandere dc #yandere connor #yandere conner kent #yandere connor x reader #yandere connor kent x reader #connor kent x reader #connor x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batman x reader #yandere batman #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #😺– request

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ma1dita · 9 months ago

Note

its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve.

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips��excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift.

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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lonely-cowboy · 11 months ago

Text

future of us

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: after finding a box of home videos, you're overwhelmed with thoughts of the future. only connor can ease your worries.

word count: 2k

warnings: panic attack sorta, good ol' daddy issues, a 6yo (and a however old you are)yo having an existential crisis about death, i actually don't know what this is i just felt like writing it, rushed ending

author's note: yes i was complaining about my angsty gameplay in my last post and yes i am posting angst after saying i needed more fluff to feel happy. what about it. i like the angst, it makes me feel smth.

masterlist ⟡ requests

The television flickered in the dim living room, the shadows shifting like otherworldly creatures. The heavy rain pounded against the windows combined with the quiet whistle of the winds. You would think that with such advanced technology nowadays the intense weather wouldn’t affect the power. Apparently, that hadn’t been a priority during this era of technological breakthroughs. But you didn’t mind. The flickering screen and hissing static were comforting, reminding you of the days Hank still had his old-fashioned television.

In the peaceful hours of the early morning (or late night depending on who you asked), you sat huddled on the couch with your eyes glued to the television. Wearing one of Hank’s old sweatshirts that was far too long for you, you hugged your knees tightly.

You watched the screen as a little girl sat bashfully at the head of a long dining table, kicking her feet giddily as a birthday cake with six blazing candles was placed in front of her. She was surrounded by loved ones who looked at her fondly, singing in unison with enthusiastic, booming voices. One voice– the cameraman's– overpowered them all, his voice uncharacteristically jaunty and cheerful. As the singing reached its end and the little girl blew out her candles with a big breath (and a lot of spit), the cameraman squished himself into the frame with a wide grin.

And there was Hank Anderson. A younger, much happier Hank, but Hank nonetheless. He grinned at the camera, calling the little girl’s attention. They both smiled brightly into the camera, ignoring that it was a video and not a picture. Hank and his goddaughter. Hank and you.

You were honestly surprised when you found the box of old VHS tapes. Yes, VHS tapes. No, you weren’t that old, far from it actually. Hank was just always old-fashioned; he never had a knack for technology. So any videos from your childhood were found on VHS tapes that Hank had kept for all these years.

You found them when you were organizing his garage. The entire day, you had been cleaning around his house with Connor’s help because his drunk ass could never do it. You hoped that maybe by giving him a clean environment he might be able to clean up his act. You weren’t too sure about that, but the thought was there.

When you found the tapes, it was already well into the night. Hank had passed out hours ago, and you released Connor to recharge not long ago. That’s when you decided you were deserving of a much-needed break, dragging the hefty box of VHS tapes into the living room for your viewing pleasure.

Only you hadn’t realized the experience would be the exact opposite of pleasurable. The more videos you watched, the more your misery grew.

You couldn’t exactly explain why you were so upset. All you knew was that your chest was heavy with dread, your eyes forlorn as you watched video after video.

You were so distracted by the video of your sixth birthday (Hank was now interrogating you about the differences between being five and six, ever the detective) that you hadn’t heard Connor’s light footfalls. Though you probably wouldn’t have heard them anyway. Androids were scarily sneaky like that. You didn’t realize Connor was even in the room until he was standing right beside you, his figure nothing but a shadow in your peripheral vision. You had almost forgotten he was here, simply resting (or whatever it was androids did) in Hank’s spare room.

Your attention snapped to him, fumbling for the remote to pause the video. With only the light of the television to guide you, you struggled to find the pause button. By the time you finally found it, your cheeks were unbearably warm with embarrassment.

Watching videos of your childhood self to remember the good times with Hank before he practically cut you off completely, dried tear stains on your cheeks and fresh tears welling in your eyes? Pathetic.

With your face buried in the baggy sleeves of Hank’s sweatshirt, you tried to casually wipe away your tears, but you knew it was too late. Connor had already seen them. And even if he hadn’t seen them, you were sure he could guess by the shaky tone of your voice.

“Hi, Connor,” you greeted weakly.

Connor was silent for a moment as his eyes trailed over your figure, surely analyzing you. His LED circled yellow for a long time. Even when he sat down beside you, it continued to show yellow.

“Are you alright?” Connor asked softly, reaching a hand forward to rest on your knee and giving it a loving squeeze.

You were so surprised that he didn’t offer some kind of thorough analysis of your current mental state that a guttural laugh escaped your lips. The sound confused even Connor, his eyebrows furrowing at your impromptu reaction. You covered your mouth sheepishly, flashing Connor a look that said “I’m-sorry-I-don’t-know-what-that-was-either-kindly-ignore-that.”

Connor was silent again as he considered what to say. His eyes flitted to the television screen that had paused on a frame of you shoving your face into the camera with a toothy smile. You were missing two of your bottom teeth.

“Is that you?” Connor inquired. He was only being polite. You both knew that with a simple facial scan he had already determined that it was, in fact, you.

“Yeah,” you answered lamely. “My sixth birthday.”

Connor’s hand that was resting on your knee moved to your hand, slowly pulling the remote out of your grip. He unpaused the video and sat stiffly, his eyes darting from you to the screen like he didn’t know which to watch. The television showed you as you flaunted your missing teeth before pulling back to answer another one of Hank’s questions.

“Alright, last question, kiddo,” Hank said off-screen, his tone teasingly serious. “We gotta hear the final verdict… d’you like being six?”

Your little self squinted her eyes in consideration, lips pursed into an extreme pout. For added effect, you put a finger to your chin and tapped it thoughtfully.

“Hmm…,” you thought loudly. “No!”

“No?” Hank repeated with a hearty laugh. “Why not?”

“I don’t wanna get old,” you admitted innocently as if it was the easiest answer in the world. “Getting old means I’ll die.”

You snatched the remote from Connor’s hand and hurriedly paused the video again. All of a sudden, your breaths were coming out in sharp pants as your body was filled to the brim with an inexplicable panic. You needed a distraction, you didn’t want to think about any of this.

Connor was calling your name calmly, his voice a steady, grounding force. Your wide eyes snapped to meet his, hands moving to clutch both of his. As you latched onto his warm gaze, you felt an odd imbalance. You couldn’t tell if you were comforted or stressed by his presence.

“How can I help you?” Connor murmured, allowing you to grip his hands as tightly as possible.

“I don’t know… I don’t know,” you stammered. “I’m scared, Connor.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay… okay,” Connor whispered soothingly.

Freeing one of his hands from your grasp, Connor’s hand snaked to the back of your head and pulled you forward until your forehead was resting against his lips. He pressed light kisses against your skin, murmuring comforting words as tears started to silently spill from the corners of your eyes. You collapsed forward until your face was buried in the crook of Connor’s neck. His lips moved to your head, kissing along the top of your head.

Why were you crying? Why were you crying? Why were you crying?

You didn’t understand why you were so overwhelmed, you just knew that you were. You had felt it so suddenly that there hadn’t been time to ask why.

“Are you scared of… losing Hank?” Connor questioned.

No, that wasn’t it. Well, yes, you were. But that wasn’t the cause of your unexpected anxiousness.

“Are you scared of… dying?”

Yes. Yes, that was it. That was it. Sort of, at least.

Too broken to speak, you simply nodded against Connor’s body.

“Can you tell me what scares you about it?”

Could you? You thought about it, blinking furiously to slow the tears. Why were you scared? Sure, death was scary in general, but there was something else. There had to be something else because your heart was still pounding furiously.

“I… don’t know,” you croaked.

“Okay,” Connor said patiently. “That’s alright. You don’t need to know.”

With his hands still on you, Connor carefully pulled away from you to meet your gaze. The corners of his lips were raised in a loving smile as he studied you, his thumb absentmindedly running along your knuckles.

“I want you to know that you’re safe with me,” he continued.

You matched Connor’s smile hesitantly, feeling your heartbeat slow to a resting state. Your attention was drawn to Connor’s spiraling LED as it returned to its usual blue.

That was it.

Your smile vanished quicker than it appeared. Your eyes were now fixated on the LED at Connor’s temple, a constant reminder that he was an android. And you were only human.

“I’m going to lose you,” you whispered hoarsely.

A puzzled look crossed Connor’s features, the crease between his brows returning. His LED blinked yellow again as he realized you were still in distress.

“You won’t lose me,” Connor promised, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You can’t lose me.”

“That’s the problem, Connor,” you sniffled. “Someday, I’ll die. And you’ll keep living.”

The tension in Connor’s face eased as he realized the root of your sadness, though he didn’t look at ease himself. His LED quickly turned to a solid red. He looked so… sad. As if it hadn’t occurred to him until now the inevitable future of the two of you.

The look on his face made you want to apologize profusely. You were sorry for ever putting that thought in his head. But you didn’t have the words to speak. You were frozen, just as he was.

Connor broke your suspended state by inhaling slowly, nodding his head as he thought to himself. You noticed that his grip on your hand was tighter as if he was afraid to let go. His other hand had moved to rest on your upper arm, rubbing it soothingly. It seemed to be a calming gesture for both you and him.

“Maybe that is how it will be,” Connor muttered, his eyes finding yours again. “Or maybe there’s another way we don’t know of. But that… that’s far in the future. That’s not something we need to concern ourselves with right now. Right now… is right now.”

Your tears had stopped falling long ago once there were no more left to cry. You resorted to chewing your lip worriedly, ignoring the bead of blood that infested your tastebuds. Connor’s hand moved to caress your jaw, running a thumb across your lips to stop you from hurting yourself.

“Right now… I’m holding you. On this couch. Because I care about you,” Connor continued, though his voice was still slightly frazzled. “And that’s all we need to worry about.”

Either way, his words did do something to calm you. You nodded along as he spoke, leaning into the warmth of his smooth palm. Your fear wasn’t gone, not completely anyway. But it was certainly less than it was before.

You moved quickly into Connor’s arms, pushing him back so that he was lying on the couch. Your head curled against his chest, holding the front of his shirt tightly. You never wanted him to leave. His arms naturally fell around you and lightly rubbed your back.

It wasn’t necessary for Connor to breathe, but you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. You knew he was doing it for your sake. You followed the pattern of his breathing until you finally felt a sense of peace for the first time that night.

“Will you keep holding me like this?” you mumbled.

“I’ll hold you like this, right now and forever.”

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

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mediumgayitalian · 7 months ago

Text

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

Nico’s hands still on the stubborn pillowcase. “To…my cabin?”

“Yes.”

“Um.” He resumes, sliding slowly away from Will’s wide round eyes, stuffing the puffy square of feathers into its fabric prison. The ghost of geese past are not happy with him. He is their prince. They will submit. “Yeah? You could all those other times, too.”

“Yeah, but I want to come over.”

“Yes,” Nico agrees, wondering if this is perhaps one of those moments Kayla warned him about. Has it reached day five of Will not sleeping? He doesn’t think so. He was napping when Nico came into the infirmary this morning to help with the tidying he promised to do. At least he was drooling enough that Nico hopes he was sleeping. “You mentioned.”

“So I can?”

“Yes, Will.”

Maybe it’s just an American thing. Nico has been noticing some Moments lately. He’s not sure if all teenagers have unanimously decided on some code they’d like to speak in during the few months he was busy defeating his great grandmother, or if maybe he’s finally stuck around long enough to notice, but nobody says what they mean, nowadays.

(He has gathered, thus far, that ‘on fleek’ is a synonym for ‘aflame’, although ‘yeet’ continues to evade him. Perhaps because Cecil and Lou appear to have indulged in the sick delight of replacing their every word with the term with the sole purpose to Confuse. Or perhaps, as Will has so indicated, they have each endured one concussion to many and are beyond any hope.)

“Sick!” That one Nico knows, at least. “I’ll come by after my morning shift? Connor got cursed by the Hypnos, Hecate, and Aphrodite cabins this morning so I have to do brain surgery before he forgets how to feel genuine human connection again, but I’ll be done by noon. Probably. I mean, Connor has a thick skull, genuinely I mean, which is why his lobotomy has been delayed so many times, but so long as I —”

It has been under Nico’s notice lately that Will eyes, genuinely, sparkle. He has read the cliche time and time again and rolled his eyes almost every time: diamonds sparkle. Water sparkles. Snow sparkles. Eyes reflect, and sometimes glow with reflection. They do not sparkle. To claim a set of eyes are sparkling is to profess to the world and all capable of registering your words that you are a brainless idiot who cannot dredge up from the depths of your mind, the most barren and bereft back corners, a single unique or clever comparison; a minutely original way to describe excitement or animation.

And yet.

Will is indeed very animated, and very excited about very many things, and it shows on his face; in the wideness of his grins, the springing mass of his curls, the stilted and flailing gilt of his languid limbs. It also shows, perhaps most obviously, in his genuinely magnificent eyes — Nico has seen the Logan Sapphire. He has touched the precious thing with reverent hands, stared in awe as it thrust out the light shine upon it like the golden ichor of Ouranous swirling with the sweet saltwater to birth Love Incarnate. He knows glittering, he knows gleaming, shimmering and shining and twinkling.

Will’s eyes sparkle, like the very tip of a mountaintop, like the crackling ends of a flame, like dewdrops on spider silk. It is transfixing. It is alluring.

“—ico. Nico! Hello-o?”

It is also a trap.

“Sounds great,” Nico says loudly, voice like cold soda over vanilla ice cream. He clears his throat, twice, to no avail. His vision begins to blur as the heat pouring off of his face warps the air. “Um. See you then?”

Will nods, or at least Nico hopes he does. His curls bounce, anyway. They are hard to miss. They remind Nico tangentially of how laughter sounds, unimpeded by shame; how the shimmering satin of a ribbon would curl and bend under the smooth slide of the scissor’s blade.

(His father’s circuit of jesters often included poets playwrights. They also doubled as Nico’s babysitters. Surely no lasting consequences, that.)

“Yes!” He flashes a smile, then, and it becomes imperative to note that his eyes squint at the force of it, and his slightly-too-big teeth brush his bottom lip, and he has, in fact, on each cheek, a dimple.

Now, Will is often and even frequently called Apollo Junior by just about every living soul in camp, up to and including Immortal Camp Director And Horse, Chiron; and uproariously once even Mr D, God of Wine. Allegedly, as taunted by Kayla, even by Will’s own mother. The golden hair and unfortunate habit of winking and legs for days do most definitely create an image.

Nico, however, contrarian he be, must deny: he has seen Apollo. Apollo is beautiful and golden and charming, but Will is not quite his spitting image. Will, more aptly, is the son of the Sun. He glows; the glare of his smile leaves impressions behind in the cells one’s eyes, the glide of his limbs is almost dragging, languid. To look at him is to commit yourself to blinding. To seek so desperately the solace of the light as to ignore the unsettling sting of the burn.

“I can’t wait!”

As a blissful cloud moving in front of the solar system’s brightest star saves your eyes the eternal fate of darkness, Will’s duty so saves Nico from an eternity of shadow. He returns, humming softly and horribly, to his work, sifting through folders and updating patient files, and Nico exhales the breath setting foundations in his lungs, slumping forward in fervent relief. A melancholic reprieve from the summer rays, if only for a moment.

He waves goodbye, or at least he hopes that he does, rushing out the infirmary doors and tripping down the rickety porch steps.

“Hurrying somewhere, Nicholas Claus?” drawls Mr. D, throwing darts a perilously balanced apple atop the horns of a satyr bleating in morse code.

“That was not even an attempt,” responds Nico, and hurries away before he can be dolphinized. Dolphinified? Made into a bottle-nosed beast. (Why bottle? Of all comparisons to make, who decided bottles were the utmost separate object to which the snout of the slippery beasts should be named? Oh, wait, drunk people. Bottles. Okay. Mystery solved.)

He manages, in his heroic retreat across the common, not to destroy entire swathes of grass and plants, a feat for which the Muses could perhaps write epics about. Truly he is capable of the utmost restraint and self-control. He does raise several full sized wolf skeletons, but they seem primarily preoccupied with hunting down the the Stolls, so a win-win as far as Nico is concerned. Probably not for Connor, who is apparently cursed or concussed, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he has managed thus far with his startling amount of daily braincell loss so by statistic and happenstance he is bound to survive another incident.

“There has to be away to shut myself off,” Nico says, out loud to himself, proceeding the slam of his cabin door and the heavy breathing upon it. He turns to his altar. “You mentioned an off button, Father. I don’t suppose it has been successfully implemented.”

No answer comes forth. He indulges in a brief moment of self pity, wherein the Nico who lives in his brain clears his throat, digs around the messy confines of his mind to find an imaginary black hoodie, slips it on, digs around again for a dagger, and stabs himself, choking and twitching pitifully. Real Nico then walks with great purpose to the exact geological centre of the stone cabin.

“Okay,” he says again. He nods, once, narrowing his eyes in determination. The Nico in his brain opens one curious eyelid. (Does Will do psychiatric assessments?) “Okay, this is. Hm.”

It is not the first time they have been alone together, after all.

In the weeks following Gaea’s defeat and Will Solace’s nonstop, irritating persistence, Nico has been thrust in his proximity an incredible number of times. From his three day stay, during which he was simply so unconscious for so long his father was concerned enough to manifest onto the mortal plane and poke at his soul until he responded, to his unofficial indoctrination (ha) as a nurse, to camp clean-up efforts, to cabin renovation, to general life — they have become friends. Coworkers, at least. Together they make the camp a little more bearable for everyone in it, including Nico. It is rewarding work. It is illuminating work; Will is a good teacher, and he is funny, and he is good company (and he happens to have very long legs that he does not bother to cover up very often and Nico has eyes that do what they please). They have been in Nico’s cabin together several times over the last few weeks.

Never before has Will come over without some kind of stated purpose.

At least, not and absence he has made so obvious. True, the renovations took longer than expected, and the paint on the east wall is smudged from where Nico shoved Will, shrieking, off the stepstool, and they have perhaps, on occasion, used Nico’s illegal Wii when they were meant to be helping Annabeth make plans for Capture the Flag, but —

But.

Intent.

Is important.

It has been made abundantly clear to Nico over the summer that he has friends upon which he can rely. Reyna has made a point to Iris Message him at whatever Roman tryhard time she believes he should be awake, prompting an attempted murderous shadow travel that left him unconcious in Missouri and at the unfortunate end of many people’s shouting. And Will’s friends, who can perhaps at this point be called his friends also, have created a game entitled “How Many Grapes Can We Flick At Nico During Lunch Before He Goes Ballistic And Sends Us To Purgatory For A Little While” (four), which they are inclined and inspired to play every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Piper enjoys dragging him around to do Things. Jason is just around constantly. (Does he sleep? Nico should check on that properly.)

He had a point, somewhere. He’s sure he did.

It was maybe the impending anxiety attack, helpfully informs Brain Nico.

“Ah,” regular Nico replies, then grapples around for his least favourite pillow, slams it into his face, and screams at the top of his lungs for several minutes.

Brain Nico decides once again that commentary is the way.

I think we are an all powerful demigod of something, he muses. Dirt, maybe? Bad vibes? I can’t quite remember.

“The dead?” inquires regular Nico.

Do you think those years isolated in the Labyrinth perhaps situated us firmly on the shores of mentally unwell? responds he, blissfully unhelpful.

“I think that was Tartarus, actually,” says regular Nico, and promptly banishes his brain self to the deepest recesses of his mind, among memories of the taste of liquid fire and Calculus.

With the remaining, functioning (well.) part of his brain, he places both palms on the cool floor and attempts to focus.

Juicy Fruit It gets right to ya Juicy salt Hmmm Juicy Fruit, The taste the taste that’s —

For the love of all holy things, Nico begs his brain. It doesn’t work, but what ever really goes right in his life, so he pushes past the increasingly louder replays of eighties commercial jingles and maps out the ground below the cabin floor, pushes through the layers of underground.

Ah. Perfect.

He pulls up the very aptly placed skeleton of a cat, letting it scratch and sniff about his cabin before cautiously approaching him.

“You will be sure to tell it to me straight,” Nico says solemnly, holding out his hand. The cat bobs its nasal cavities in and out of Nico’s fingers and, apparently deciding him to be worthy of its attention, rams its skull against his knuckles. Nico snorts, running a fingernail along its cranial sutures and grinning as its purring echoes in his mind. “You seem very wise.”

The cat’s caudal vertebrae rattle in indignation, miffed at the mere idea that it could be anything other than wise. Nico is honestly quite impressed by its ability to glare without actual eyeballs, eyelids, or thought power.

“I am going to name you after my sister and pray that’s not weird,” Nico says. “I mean, I don’t think she would mind. You’re pretty cool, actually, and Hazel’s cool, kind of, so. Win win.”

Hazel the Cat seems unbothered by her christening, curling up in Nico’s lap. He runs his hand from cranial base to coccyx, finger dipping and bumping along the ridges of her spines, and settles against the cool floor, attempting to breathe evenly.

“It’s just.” He swallows. It takes a try or two, to work around the massive stone borrowed in his throat, and Hazel the Cat nips playfully at his fingers until his lungs settle again. “Before we had something to do, you know? We’d be cutting bandages, and he’d be all, hey, did you know bandages are mentioned in one of the first ever medical manuscripts and definitely predate it by many hundreds of years, and I would say I did, actually, I talked to the guy who made that clay tablet, and his eyes would get all wide and he’d be like no way, tell me everything, and then I would just talk forever.” Nico huffs. “We had something to talk about, you understand. Something to do.”

Nico tries to imagine what Hazel his Sister would say. Probably something along the lines of you are an impossible person, which is code for I have about as much luck as you do in this century, pal, the best I’ve got is hope for the best and remember adults no longer smack you for standing wrong. Which. Fair.

Hazel the Cat just purrs in his head again. It’s as encouraging as anything, he supposes.

“Am I supposed to have…conversation starters? He likes twizzlers and intentionally bad poetry. Maybe I could do something with that?”

Hazel the Cat shrugs at him.

“It’s not even — okay, it’s not just that, though. What is — how close is close enough in a casual setting? Or too close? How am I meant to greet him? Am I supposed to offer something? Make something? What do I do if there’s a lull in conversation? Or if it’s all lulls? Oh, gods, how much silence is socially appropriate —”

Hazel the Cat twists in his hold, meeting his eyes as if to say well I don’t think you’ll be struggling with that last one.

“Shush,” he tells her, but his mouth is twitching. “I’m just — I don’t want him to finally realize I’m weird. Or boring, gods. He’s such a hyper person, you know? He never stops. And I am supposed to entertain him! I think!”

This time he can actually hear his sister’s voice, in the back of his mind — you’re such a dummy. Ringed with fondness from the many times she’s said it to him, shoulders nudged carefully together, head knocked gently against his. You are weird and boring. Most people are.

“Ugh,” he sighs, tipping his head back until it rests against the mattress. “Friendship is hard work.”

Hazel the Cat swishes her tail, rattling the discs of bone like a rattlesnake. It’s a surprisingly soothing sound, like rain pinging softly against his window, or the flutter of the poplar trees outside of his father’s palace. Unconsciously he matches his breathing to it, slowing until it’s even, gentle, deep. His eyes, without any direction from his brain, drift until they blanket his hazy eyes, heavy as stone..

“S’not that serious,” he murmurs to himself, soothed under the weight of his feline friend. “S’just Will, I guess.” A beat. He smiles, slightly, a small, curling thing, mimicking the coiled heat in his belly. “It’s just Will.”

———

part two

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shoezuki · 4 months ago

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theres outta pocket and then theres connor man

hes fuckin wild like my favourite thing is him replying to right wing politicians and scumbags lately tryna get em to play fortnite w him. like if i didnt know connor id think he was being real bout this shit

one my favourite replies tho was this one to elon its still got me fucked up

'i call att support and specifically ask for a girl to come fix my router and they never send one' is fucking insane

#i want to study him so bad #hes so dedicated to this bit.#also the one he does lately of having a son he fuckimg hates. god #anon #connor

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redlyriumidol · 10 months ago

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things that would have been cool writing choices for dragon age imo, not necessarily better just interesting:

loghain doing the dark ritual on his own if the warden chooses not to. I'm not sure this is in character really it just would have been wild for a character to make a Decision like that without you. maybe only if you have low approval or something (even though its difficult to get approval either way bc you get him so late)

anders somehow using gaatlok to blow up the chantry. much as i enjoy digging through sewers for poo crystals this would have tied the various plots between acts together so nicely. this one i legitimately think would have been better.

I said this in a different post but not allowing you to go to the circle during the arl of redcliffe because it's a cheap copout and makes no sense. either give us consequences for running off and spending 300 hrs in the fade or force us to make a hard choice.

a fourth secret persuade option for mage wardens to let eamon be possessed instead of killing connor or isolde. I know i've said this a lot. But the deal would be Arl Deamon agrees to act the part until the blight is over and the dialogue is slightly different during the landsmeet etc and ur the only one who knows why. ;) epilogue slide where he's eventually discovered and killed but not before he Wreaks some Havoc

giving thrask and grace more protagonism in da2 and having them survive, and THEY become the mage/templar leaders in dai rather than randos samson and calpernia.

an acknowledgment in the anders romance that justice is ALSO in love with hawke. awakening anders was a fun flirty commitmentphobe whereas justice was an intense weirdo about kristoff and aura's relationship and even expressed jealousy towards them. which was soooo interesting. anders being so intense and lowkey possessive (love him tho) in the romance makes so much more sense if it's actually coming from justice. "justice doesn't approve of my obsession with you" bro justice IS the obsession be fr.

isabela not betraying you in the fade if she has 100% approval and is romanced. i always find this out of character especially since she betrays you JUST for a ship and not anything actually meaningful like the others. or if it was a ship but the demon's offer was more explicitly about freedom/escaping from castillon (which can be read btwn the lines but I think it should have been more obvious) that would have been much better.

#i can probably think of more tbh but these r eternally in my brain #loghain mac tir #anders dragon age #dragon age #dragon age talks #isabela dragon age #justice dragon age #idk if anyone looks for justice content but i love him so much. he's an incredibly interesting character. justice4justice #all of his awakening banter is absolutely golden

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yandereunsolved · 12 days ago

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⚅ Yandere Sixty — RK800 ⚅

Each staircase felt like a level of a game you were far too slow to win. Each step was a wish that you would be met with reassurance instead of heartbreak. One breath after another, helping blood flow through your veins and into your heart. Such a pity.

In most games you get three lives. In this life you are only allowed one.

Any direction would have been worthy of your praise. Anything to stop the senseless violence you have to put yourself through. Instead, all technology seemed at a standstill. The Cyberlife tower was picking sides. It favored a replica of your love.

Your hands finally met a working elevator. The guards seemed deceased; no signs of life were able to be discerned from a quick glance. Flawless efficiency. Connor.

You're heading in the right direction.

Not a thousand training courses could prepare you for what you were met with on the other side of the metal door. That traitor, that cheap fucking cybernetic copy, holding the gun that put a bullet in Connor's head. Hank lies dead right beside him. You know it can hear the pained sounds of your heart, the desperate cries to be relieved of any more grief.

Too late, the android's posture seems to taunt.

There's a knowing in the copycat Connor's eyes. Like it has won the game you didn't know you were playing. There's no lifeless obedience. There's a certain cockiness. A contrasting attitude that you hate yourself for not recognizing sooner.

Here you were, like a dunce, having fallen for a machine that was killed by another of his kind. Here you were, at the mercy of yet another Cyberlife creation.

"I don't think you understand. This is for the best."

It sounds too much like Connor. If not for the giddiness in its tone. A sort of sadistic satisfaction at the fact it completed its mission.

"You killed Connor!"

The words escape you in anger, aligning the soul-crushing despair you feel inward. You didn't dare take another step. For all you know, the gun could be pointed at you next. "Perhaps it'd be better that way," that deeply repressed part of your mind whispers.

"I am a Connor," such sacchariferous consolation in its tone.

"You aren't my Connor!"

It looks like you shot a puppy in front of this clone, instead of it killing those closest to you. It stares at you like this is your fault. Like you're the offender. Like if you had complied with some unwritten code of rules, this could have all been avoided.

"I am your Sixty, if you prefer," it—he responds, "and you are mine, baby."

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deanstead · 2 years ago

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Mistaken

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader, Rhodestead

Requested: no

Summary: As Will finds himself dealing with an unwelcome presence in his life, you disappear in the middle of shift.

Word Count: 5.3K+

Tags/Warnings: established relationships, stalking, kidnapping, hostage situations

A/N: First time I'm trying out writing for Rhodestead so I put this as a double pairing fic. Wasn't sure I was going to let this fic see the light of day but bestie @sheetsonfire gave her stamp of approval (and I haven't posted in a while) so here goes! Kinda (read: very) nervous about this so let me know what you guys think!

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

“Hey, you wanna grab dinner?” Will asked as he opened his locker next to you.

You glanced back at him, your eyes betraying the mental exhaustion from the day. Losing children was never easy, everyone knew that.

You gave Will a small smile. “No date with Connor?” You lightly teased.

Will chuckled.

Will and Connor had been dancing around each other for almost forever and it had taken you an unbelievable amount of self control not to literally bonk their heads together. Thankfully, they’d gotten off their asses before you had to.

“Connor got pulled into a surgery so I got stood up.”

You let out a small laugh, closing your locker. “Your brother’s on a case so… dinner’s on you.”

Will laughed, nodding. “I got you.”

The both of you ended up in one of the eateries you frequented that was near Med which opened late exactly for this reason - a place that had saved all of you from many late nights. Be it when Jay came to get you from a late shift, or when you, Connor and Will needed to eat after a shift before going to crash. All four of you had even been here together shortly after the shift in dynamics - you and Jay had just gotten married, while Will and Connor had finally started seeing each other officially.

In an effort to steer both your thoughts away from work, Will started a conversation about Connor, and you watched a light in Will’s eyes as he talked about Connor, a light that had finally let its way out into the world.

“What?” Will asked, angling his eyebrows at you before you realized you were smiling cheekily at him.

You shrugged. “Just nice to see you so happy.”

Will smiled, reaching over to ruffle your hair.

“You know you transitioned into this annoying older brother role way too smoothly.” You growled playfully, your eyes narrowing at him.

Will laughed, retracting his hand and chuckling.

“Y/N?”

Jay’s voice reached you first before you saw him but it still made you smile.

“You said you were going to be late?” You said but you were already looping your arms around his waist and pressing yourself into his embrace.

Jay let out a small chuckle. “Sorry, I know things have been a little crazy.”

You shook your head, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. “I just missed you.”

Jay leaned back before leaning back down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Shall we stay in tonight?”

You grinned back at him. “Sounds perfect.”

It felt like it had been a while since you and Jay had done this, just stayed in, the television turned on while the two of you had a cozy meal before cuddling on the couch with the wine glasses sitting just a little precariously on the small coffee table Will and Connor had gotten the both of you as a wedding present.

“Everything at work okay?” Jay asked quietly, his arms resting around your waist.

“You know, same-old. We have the bullies, the overbearing parents, but there are also families that remind me why I became a doctor.”

Jay rested his chin gently on your shoulder, his cheek resting lightly against yours before he closed his eyes.

“I think that if you’re here, if I know that I get to come home to you at the end of any day or case, I’ll be able to do about anything.” He whispered.

You knew that voice, the voice that told you he'd had a hard day.

You took his hand gently in yours. “I’ll always be here, Jay. At the end of every difficult case, or day, no matter what.”

Jay pressed a kiss to your cheek lightly and you leaned further back into his embrace.

“Dr Y/L/N, someone’s asking for you in the waiting room if you have a few minutes.” One of the nurses came up to you as you were studying a patient’s chart.

You looked around the ED, it was a quiet sort of day but you weren’t in the best of moods since you’d lost your card holder. Just thinking about having to replace your credit cards already made you feel tired and anxious. Regardless, you nodded with a smile at the nurse, thanking her for letting you know.

Putting on your best professional smile you headed towards the waiting room, scanning the crowd for someone who looked like they’d be waiting for you.

A woman who was about your age made eye contact with you, giving you a small smile. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

You frowned just a little in confusion although you kept your expression mostly neutral and nodded. She seemed a little familiar to you even though you weren’t fully certain where you’d seen her before.

The woman just smiled, handing you back a card case that was most definitely yours.

“I think you dropped this, this morning at the coffee place. I got your name from one of your cards and luckily the cafe said you were a regular so they knew you worked here.”

You felt the relief flood your system, the anxiety that had been clawing at you the whole morning finally seeming to let up.

“Oh my god, thank you.” You could even hear the relief in your voice bounce back at you but you weren't even embarrassed. “You saved me a lot of trouble and well... stress.”

You paused as you looked at her. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. Have we met?”

The woman just smiled and shook her head. “Maybe in the mornings, I get my coffee there too most days.”

It didn’t feel like a correct answer but you let it go, reminding yourself this was not the time to obsess over unimportant details.

“Look, you did me a huge favor today. Is there something I can do to thank you?”

The woman just smiled. “Maybe you can just buy me a coffee. Tomorrow morning?”

You studied her for a bit and then nodded. She smiled, extending her hand. “Grace.”

You smiled back at her and shook it, agreeing to see each other the next morning at the cafe.

As you watched her walk back out the main door with a friendly wave, you felt that weird feeling again, like something wasn’t quite sitting right with you.

You definitely knew her from somewhere.

As agreed, you’d met Grace the next morning at your morning coffee stop and it had gone better than you'd expected, so much so that you’d talked yourself out of that weird feeling in your gut, putting it down to that tinge of social anxiety you had with new people.

You’d almost caved and asked Will or Connor if they could come with you but decided you didn’t really wanna be a wuss. Besides, the rational part of your brain was telling you that your anxiety was being irrational once again.

Grace had been easy to talk to though, so you were glad you hadn’t overreacted.

But when you opened the door to the doctors’ lounge armed with coffees for both Connor and Will, you sensed something was off.

Will was sitting on the couch, his head ticked up just a little as the door opened and Connor’s arm was around Will’s shoulders, Will gently pressed up against Connor. Even though it was no secret, they didn't usually behave much like a couple at work.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, frowning as you quickly put the coffees down on the table and headed towards them.

Will glanced at Connor. “I’m fine.”

Connor gave him half an exasperated look, even though you could still see the frown lines tinged with worry.

Will might be your brother-in-law, but way before you and Jay had gotten close, the three of you had always been great friends so it wasn’t surprising you could tell they were holding something back.

You raised an eyebrow at Connor. “Someone better tell me what’s going on.”

Will exchanged a look with Connor before he gave him a small nod.

“She’s back.”

She.

You knew exactly who Connor was talking about. That was the part that really made you feel like shit.

Will had been reluctant to call it stalking at first, reluctant to put Jay on this even though the laws on stalking had already greatly improved the past few years. But now it seemed like Will was getting concerned too.

“Will, maybe we need to tell Jay about this.” You said gently, even though you understood why Will didn’t want to tell Jay and make it all official.

Will just nodded. “Maybe. I’ll talk to him.”

Connor glanced at Will before squeezing his hand gently. “I’ll see you later, alright? I've got a surgery."

With a quick kiss, Will and Connor parted and you nodded at Connor to assure him that you were here anyway.

Will had told himself that if it persisted he'd go to Jay but she'd suddenly stopped showing up. The notes stopped and the street was empty when Will left the house.

“Maybe she finally gave up. Like she had one last look and she left.” You said, even though just saying it sounded stupid.

Will just smiled back, asking everyone to stop worrying.

“Y/N, you’re wanted in the waiting room.” Maggie called across the ED and you nodded, patting Will on the arm before heading straight out, shrugging at Maggie.

You’d barely stepped out of the automatic doors when you saw her.

“Grace?”

She looked a little frazzled, like she was startled.

“Y/N, thank god. I didn’t know anyone else and…”

You frowned, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “Okay, slow down. What’s going on?”

“My friend, she got hurt and I don’t think I can move her. It’s just at the next street. Can you…”

You frowned. “How is she hurt, Grace? What happened?”

Grace shook her head. “I don’t know, can you just…”

You took a glance back at Leah, who nodded at you quickly disappearing back into the ED.

Feeling certain that whoever it was that Leah alerted would be able to catch up to you quickly, you let Grace lead you out of the ED, so preoccupied that you didn’t notice the shift in the look in her eyes.

“Anything?”

Will asked, jogging up towards Ethan who shook his head.

Having just gotten a bit of time between patients, Will and Ethan had come out after you almost immediately but somehow you were nowhere to be found.

Will already had his phone pressed to his ear but while it had been ringing earlier, it was now dead.

“Are we sure…” Will’s voice trailed off as his eye caught on something right by the side of the sidewalk. “Wait.”

Will bent down, picking it up. There was no mistaking it, Will thought, as the key-shaped pendant from your necklace lay in his palm. “This is hers. I better call Jay.”

The ringing in Jay’s ears hadn’t stopped since he’d heard from Will.

With no hesitation whatsoever, Voight had sent Jay and Hailey along to Med, while Kim went straight to try to track movements from traffic pods.

Jay frowned now as he leaned over the computer in the security office with Hailey, watching as you spoke to a woman in the waiting room, her face not fully visible from the angle she was standing at.

Hailey glanced at Jay. “She knows where the cameras are.”

Jay nodded absentmindedly, his eyes locked on the image of you leaving the hospital - the last time any of your colleagues had seen you.

Jay ran a hand across his face as he tried to empty his brain to think. Nothing made sense. It didn’t make sense why anyone would want to take you. There’d been no violent patients that you had mentioned recently and everyone Hailey had spoken to earlier couldn’t think of anyone from the past few months either. Sure, there’d been difficult patients and family members but no one that jumped out as being dangerous.

Which meant they had no starting point. And Jay was worried that his brain was too clouded with worry to even think straight. He felt like he was missing something.

“Jay. Here.” Will said, his voice quiet as he put the necklace in Jay’s hand.

Jay’s eyes lingered for a while on the pendant now and Will glanced at his brother worriedly, unable to even imagine being in Jay’s shoes right now.

“Jay, if you…”

Will was interrupted as Jay’s phone rang, his eyes wandering towards the screen of the image capture.

What the hell?

Will glanced up again where Jay was still talking on the phone, before his eyes found the screen again, feeling the knot in his gut seemingly grow in size.

“Will, I just heard.” Connor’s voice broke Will out of what was almost a trance, turning to look at Connor.

Connor registered the look in Will’s eyes almost immediately, his eyes flitting to the screen before he glanced at Will. “That’s…”

“What?” Jay asked now, joining them again as he finished talking to Kim.

Will could barely look his brother in the eye as he glanced up.

“Her name is Grace. Grace Turner.”

Jay frowned. “You know this woman?”

Will exchanged a look with Connor, who merely squeezed his hand. “She's been stalking me."

The room was still spinning but at least it seemed to be slowing down.

Grace had her back to you as she fiddled with something on her table. You knew you should have trusted your gut.

From the beginning, something had felt off about her, like she was being too friendly. But then you’d put it down to your social anxiety, swallowing it down like a bad pill.

Yet now, as you became more aware of the ache around your shoulders from your arms being pulled towards your back, feel the rough material of whatever she’d used to tie your wrists together, you knew your gut had been right all along. You should have just listened to it.

Just as you were trying to figure what the hell you were supposed to do, Grace turned to look at you.

Her lips curled up into a smile that you’d never seen on her face before, something that made the feeling of unease balloon up in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re awake.”

You frowned, your eyes scanning her expression for more clues.

“Grace, what’s going on? What… is this?” You asked, trying your best to keep your voice level and calm, as you’d done many times in the course of your work in the ED, regardless of what you were feeling.

Grace looked back at you, blinking. “I’ve been trying to figure out why he likes you. There’s nothing truly outstanding, you know?”

You frowned.

“What?”

You weren’t sure if she wasn’t making sense or if your head was still kind of spinning from inhaling whatever drug she’d soaked that cloth with before she’d pressed it against your mouth and nose earlier.

Grace turned back to look at you now and you didn’t like the glint in her eye. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for weeks, why he's been keeping his distance. And then I saw you with him, and then I knew. It was you. You’re the one standing between us.”

You frowned, your mind spinning as you tried to figure out what she was getting at. Jay hadn’t mentioned anything in particular and you were sure if there’d been someone following the both of you around, he’d have said something or changed up the routine for the both of you.

“You… what? Listen, if there’s…”

Grace didn’t seem to be listening though. “Is it because you’re both doctors?”

Both…

“You.” You couldn’t hide the contempt in your voice as you realized this was her. She was the woman who’d been stressing Will out.

Nervous as you were, your gut still feeling like it was flipped inside out, you also felt annoyance and the extreme urge to protect someone you cared about despite the situation you were in.

Even with the ache in your arms, you glared up at her. “If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Grace turned back towards you, the anger in her eyes more pronounced now. “No one cares about him more than I do!”

You didn’t avert your eyes, the anger you felt bubbling over in you overtaking the fear and uncertainty that was still hanging over you.

“Not even his brother?” Your voice was still even, as you looked at her. “You took me because you thought Will and I were seeing each other?”

Grace didn’t say anything, just narrowed her eyes at you.

“If we really were seeing each other, did you think taking me here was going to solve anything?”

Grace exhaled loudly. “I’ve been watching you with him.”

You studied Grace, feeling your thoughts swirl. She’d been so obsessed with Will, that she saw you when you were with him but she didn’t watch you any further. She didn’t see the times that you went home or on dates with Jay. You were actually more surprised she didn’t know about Connor.

“So what do you actually want?”

Your eyes flicked to the scissors she had in her hand as you finished your question, before she stepped towards you.

Jay was quite literally going out of his mind.

They’d matched the woman’s identity, and went straight to her last known address but the apartment looked like it hadn’t been lived in for months judging by the layer of dust that had settled on the furniture. What they did find was a bunch of photos of Will scattered along the walls and other corners of the apartment.

Jay could feel the anger building inside him. Even if this crazy woman hadn’t taken you right under everyone’s nose, the fact that this was somehow connected to his brother was pissing him off so much it was taking all his effort not to punch something.

The sounds of fingers dancing across keyboards, as well as the sound of rifling papers reminded Jay that he needed to keep his head in the game.

“Hey, Jay.”

Jay glanced up to see Connor heading out of the pantry where he’d been with Will, his eyes flicking towards the back view of his brother before he nodded.

“Listen, I was thinking. Will mentioned he’s seen her around his apartment a few times, so couldn’t we…”

Jay froze. “Wait, what?”

Connor frowned. “He didn’t say anything to you?”

Jay’s eyes flicked back in the direction of his brother. “He should have told me about this when it happened.” His voice was slightly reproachful but Connor could hear the tinge of worry as well.

Connor just nodded, realizing he needed to tell Jay almost everything.

“So, can we…”

Jay’s mind was already there as he nodded, leaning back down over his computer, trying to run matches between Grace’s known family and acquaintances with recent rentals near Will’s apartment.

Jay’s eyes scanned the screen in front of him quickly before he paused. “Ruz, what did you say her sister’s name was?”

“Kayla.”

Jay frowned. “I have a Kayla Lloyd here.”

Kim was right on it. “I think you’re on the right track. Kayla Turner married Nash Lloyd three years ago.”

The team exchanged looks. Hailey nodded. “It’s the best we got so far. I say we go.”

Voight was already standing at his office door before he nodded. “Let’s go.”

Connor glanced at Will from where they were sitting in the back of Jay’s truck.

Will was glancing out, his fist curled into a ball as it rested on the seat between him and Connor. It wasn’t that he was that affected by this woman, but the fact that he hadn’t done anything which ultimately got the people around him dragged in was really eating at him.

Jay glanced at his brother through the rear view mirror before training his eyes back on the road. He didn’t have the capacity to think of anyone else but you right now. He didn’t know how to. But he could feel the fear clawing at him, but he just exhaled slowly, turning the corner towards the address they’d found earlier.

You exhaled, hearing Grace pacing outside the bedroom she’d put you in.

Your eyes darted around the room, your brain feeling like it was finally clearing up enough for you to form thoughts that were coherent enough for you to take in other details you hadn’t noticed earlier, like your phone sitting on the dresser.

Grace had been a little out for it for a while, alternating between mumbling to herself or ranting at you about Will. You hadn’t exactly pointed out the fact that you weren’t Will’s girlfriend, like she’d been thinking when she’d grabbed you. Other than the insinuation that had seemed to pass right over her head, you weren’t sure if it was going to make things worse if you pointed out that there was nothing going on between you and Will.

But you needed to do something.

You struggled a little to get to your feet, especially considering that your hands and feet were bound together but you managed to stand a little shakily with minimal sound, feeling a bead of sweat travel down the side of your face.

Gritting your teeth to try not to make any other sound, you gently hopped, grateful that at least she’d put a carpet on her bedroom floor. You angled your body, wobbling backwards as you neared the dresser, your hands finally closing around your phone. You fumbled with your fingers trying to at least turn it on so that Jay could somehow find you. You felt like it was forever, trying to wait for the stupid logo to disappear and for the phone to start but you’d just turned around again to peer at the screen when the door opened.

You froze as you watched the look on Grace’s face shift to one of rage as she took in the scene before her.

She lunged and you threw yourself out of the way, your eyes not missing the fact that she was still gripping onto the scissors in her hand. Your phone slid out of your hands and onto the floor with a thud and you felt your heart sink with it as you tried to reposition yourself on the floor, trying to ignore the shooting pains from the shoulder you’d landed on.

But you knew it was useless, especially as you heard her frustrated breath and a low growl before you felt yourself get yanked up by the hair.

She was freakishly strong for a woman her size.

That was the thought that entered your mind as you tried to regain as much balance as you could. You felt your breath catch in your throat as the threatening cold metal blades hovered near your neck right before the door crashed open.

You’d never felt such a sense of safety overwhelm you until you saw your husband’s face now, his gun ticked up high, his eyes betraying a mixed look of relief and worry at the same time, if that was even possible.

“Y/N.” Your name left his lips like a reflex, his eyes locked directly on yours, even the unspoken words putting you slowly at ease.

Jay was here.

Jay’s eyes flicked towards the woman standing behind you who looked as startled as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

“Put the scissors down.”

You heard the effort it took for Jay to keep his voice steady, knowing that it would just take something small for Jay to lose it. So you locked your eyes on his, even though you felt the anxiety once again eat at you.

Grace hadn’t reacted and Jay kept his gun raised, his trained eyes looking around the room.

“Stay out of this.” Grace forced the words out through her clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t have done this if she didn’t…”

Her words trailed off as your body froze, your eyes catching the flash of ginger at the door.

“Will.” You felt the jolt of worry hit you, interrupted only by a growl from behind you, the scissors that inched dangerously closer towards your neck reminding you that maybe you shouldn’t have said his name.

Will’s eyes lighted on yours and despite the predicament you found yourself in, you wanted to smack him upside the head for that guilt swimming in his eyes.

Your eyes moved back towards Jay’s and he nodded discreetly at you.

“Grace. Listen to me. Put it down and we can all talk, alright?” Jay said quietly, lowering his gun just a little as a show of faith.

Grace frowned, her eyes flicking up towards Will before she spoke. “All I needed to do was get rid of her, right?”

Will’s frown deepened just slightly as he absorbed what Grace was saying.

“I was just getting rid of the obstacles standing in our way.” Grace said, her voice cracking just a little. “I see the way you look at her, but if it wasn’t for her, we'd be together!"

Will glanced at you and you frowned just as his eyes flicked back to Grace, his head shaking slowly. “I need you to let her go. Can’t you see you’re hurting everyone?”

You heard Will’s voice crack softly, Jay’s eyes flicking towards his older brother as well.

“She’s my… she’s my sister. There’s nothing… You… you’ve misunderstood.”

You could hear how much it was killing Will to keep his voice even and steady, when he was just as close to losing his cool as Jay was.

You felt Grace’s hold on you loosen just a little as her focus shifted entirely to Will. “Your…”

She shook her head, her shaking hand once again inching closer towards you. “I’ve seen the both of you… you don’t have a sister, don’t lie to me!”

“It’s true.” Will said quietly, glancing at Jay who nodded, now lowering his gun even more, Hailey stepping just half a step forward in case.

“Grace.” Jay said quietly. “Look at me.”

As Grace turned her attention to him, Jay exhaled gently. “You know me, don’t you? If you know Will as well as you do.”

Grace nodded slowly. “I just want my wife back.” He said quietly and you heard the quiet crack in his voice, one that only you would have picked up on. “Just give her back to me, please.”

“Your…”

Grace angled her head back down to you and you nodded. “I tried to tell you.”

Caught off-guard, Grace looked like she wasn’t sure what to do next. In her hesitation, her hand holding the blade moved slightly away from you, hovering off to the side and Jay nodded at you.

You threw yourself in the opposite direction, falling back down onto the ground with a crash, the pain in your shoulder causing you to groan. Jay lunged towards Grace, the metal blades of the scissors clattering across the ground as she lost grip.

“Y/N, are you hurt?”

Will’s voice reached you first and you opened your eyes, the groan escaping your lips. “My shoulder. I think…”

Jay was back at your side as Hailey took over the arrest, slicing through the cables around your wrists quickly. The relief was almost immediate and a quiet sigh escaped your lips as the pressure of your arms being pulled behind you was released, even though your shoulder still gave a small throb.

“Are you hurt?” Jay’s voice was quiet but you could feel every single emotion that pulsated through those three words.

You winced as Will’s fingers applied pressure on your shoulder but Will glanced up a little guiltily at his brother, shaking his head. “It’s a little strained but I don’t think it’s a serious injury.”

“Chloroform I think.” You told Will, glancing a little worriedly at Jay for an impending reaction.

Instead, Jay just leaned in, pressing you gently into his embrace, as if worried you’d disappear right out of his arms.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as the adrenaline still pumped through your veins, the anxiety from everything that had happened pulling to the surface, a quiet sob escaping through your lips.

Putting a gentle hand on your head, Jay pulled you deeper into his embrace, soothing you quietly and as you felt your heartbeat slow, you didn’t feel like crying anymore.

The only time Jay had let go of your hand was briefly in the ambulance when the paramedics needed to put a line in, as well as when Ethan had asked him to wait outside and you’d nodded quietly at him with an encouraging smile.

But the moment Ethan had let him back in, Jay was once again next to you almost like a bodyguard while Ethan assured him that everything seemed to be okay except that your shoulder was slightly bruised from the fall and that you were getting an ice compress and they’d examine you again after.

As Ethan left the both of you alone in the room again, you leaned your head against Jay with a soft sigh.

“You doing okay?” Jay asked quietly.

You didn’t answer immediately before you nodded. “You heard Ethan.”

“You know that wasn’t what I was asking.” A reproachful tone crept into Jay’s voice despite his efforts to hide it.

You pulled away to look up at him and Jay took the opportunity to lower himself down towards you, sitting at the edge of your bed so he could be close enough for you to remain snuggled into his side.

“I remembered where I knew her from…” You’d barely begun when your eyes caught Will hovering at the entrance of the room.

Jay glanced up, nodding at his brother who was closely followed by Connor. Connor had Will’s hand protectively clamped in his own, which only made you want to smile.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Will asked. “Ethan said whatever she gave you was probably just a sedative and that other than a busted shoulder you’re…”

You smiled. “I’m fine.”

Will glanced at Jay, which made you look at your husband as well.

“Look, Y/N. I’m sorry. This is all…”

“Will Halstead.” You snapped, interrupting him. “I swear to God, if you take all the blame for this one I will smack you upside the head. Hard.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as Will looked a little startled, even though a smile was playing on the corner of Connor’s lips.

“How the hell were any of us supposed to know this was her? Or that this woman following you around would actually think I was your girlfriend and kidnap me in broad daylight?” You said, glancing over at Jay as if this was directed at him as well.

Jay just nodded at you before looking at his brother. “Will, I wasn’t blaming you, I just…”

Will nodded. “I know. I kept thinking if Connor had disappeared…”

Connor gave Will’s hand another reassuring squeeze.

“We done?” You asked, almost accusingly at Will.

Will’s eyebrows bunched together in slight confusion as he nodded.

“Now, get over here. I need a hug from my older brother.” You snapped.

Will let out the first real smile that day and stepped forward to pull his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” Will whispered.

You shook your head. “All of you came to get me. That’s what matters.”

Will pulled away and Connor reached for his hand once more. “Told you so.”

You smiled, leaning back into Jay’s embrace. “You almost induced a heart attack today. Don’t ever disappear on me again.” Jay whispered, pressing his lips onto your temple.

You just closed your eyes, letting out a soft hum of satisfaction at being safe with Jay, accompanied by Will and Connor, the ache in your shoulder barely even bothering you anymore.

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