#something to be said about that but whatever. anyway people got REALLY mad they thought it ruined the ending of c1. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

breadbrobin · 4 months

Text

fate

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

[part 2 to the trees]

summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.

warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway

word count: 3.2k

(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)

(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)

———————————————

the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.

this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.

ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.

curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.

you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.

your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.

why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.

stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.

“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.

“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”

“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.

“y/n, wait up!”

you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.

“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.

“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.

you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”

your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.

“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”

clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”

that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.

she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.

“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.

your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“

“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”

you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.

“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”

“uh…”

“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”

“she’s nice to me,” you protested.

“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”

did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”

he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”

you nodded absently. “maybe.”

“great, it’s a date!”

you frowned. “it’s a what?”

he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.

when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.

“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”

“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”

your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”

she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.

you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.

“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.

“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.

she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”

you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”

she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.

“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.

“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

well, that hurt.

“yeah, we’re just—“

“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”

your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”

“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.

“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.

she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.

then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.

“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”

you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”

you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.

her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.

you stepped back and turned, marching away.

“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”

“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.

you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.

it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?

or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.

whatever it was, it put you on edge.

there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.

you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.

your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?

you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.

the future was not looking promising.

there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.

you turned around.

the bushes were rustling.

you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.

mandibles.

two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.

there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.

“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”

you turned and ran.

the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.

where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.

then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.

“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.

you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.

it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.

you were beginning to lose hope.

honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.

just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.

it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.

as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.

“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.

“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.

just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.

she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.

“i dropped my—“

“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.

the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.

you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.

“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.

“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.

“you could have died!”

“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”

finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.

you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.

you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.

once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.

you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.

“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.

“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.

“everyone knows they’re there.”

“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”

“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.

“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”

“i don’t need your defending.”

“and i don’t need your help!”

“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.

“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.

she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“

“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.

“what?”

“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”

there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.

she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”

“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”

“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”

“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.

“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.

“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”

“and i didn’t want to help you!”

“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”

she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”

the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer.

it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.

so you did.

she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.

when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.

she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.

“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”

clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”

“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”

“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”

“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”

“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.

“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”

she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”

you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.

fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.

and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn

2K notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 12 days

Text

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door.

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.”

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin.

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal.

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.”

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch.

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover

449 notes · View notes

mayaree-darling · 5 months

Text

history in the making // rex lapis (zhongli)

from aree: inspired by the latest collab genshin has with the Sanxingdui Museum (and the trailer for said event). (Slightly SAGAU just bcoz but can be read as a normal Reverse Isekai AU)

You're a security guard for the museum and you're out on your regular patrol for the night. All is quiet save for the tapping of your shoes on the marble floors and the jingle of keys hanging from your belt.

When you round the corner, you flinch. There's a man standing there, barefooted, just staring at the museum displays with curiosity. You accidentaly shine your light on him, unconsciously trying to get a better look at him and he turns to you.

Something about him was definitely off. He was wearing some kind of hooded robe. And... gloves? What else could they be? They reached from his shoulders to the very tips of his fingers, making his arms look brown like the very earth. Whatever gloves those were, they ran with veins of gold, making him glow under the museum darkness. But above all else, the most damning piece of evidence that he wasn't from around here were his golden eyes that almost seemed to glow brighter than the gold of his arms.

He definitely did not look like he belonged here, and yet, he looked like he was right at home in this very museum - if you said he was as ancient as the very displays, it felt like you'd be correct.

"You're not supposed to be around here right now." You say dumbly. What else were you supposed to say anyway? You're a security guard in a museum, your sole job was to kick people out past visiting hours.

His mouth ticks up at the corners, like you just said something funny. You would be offended at the thought of not being taken seriously while on the job, if you didn't think he suddenly looked more... human. The deadpan stare he had on earlier made him look too statuesque, too detached from everything.

"Then what say you would be the most apt time to pay a visit?" His voice is deep and melodious, almost intimidating if not for the playful lilt to his tone.

"Uh, 8:30 AM to 6 PM?" You rub the back of your neck, directing the flashlight to the museum entrance. The doors were firmly closed and locked. You can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye. "How did you even get in here...?"

He seems to think about your words, closing his eyes in thought. Without the glow of his eyes, you notice even the tips of his hair are golden. Maybe some kind of cosplayer? But by the looks of it, he seemed to move around too comfortable in his attire for it not to be every day wear. And his eyes didn't look like contact lenses. Finally, he opened his eyes, a mischievous glint to them.

"If I were to say I have arrived here through a dream, would you believe me?" His mouth forms a small smile and you blink at him.

"Guess you don't plan on telling me the truth," You sigh. "Fine then."

You tentatively touch the two-way radio on your belt. Should you call this in? Some guy in cosplay just found his way in and has no plans on telling you how he got here. You think you should tell someone. But...

"You are from here, correct?" He asks and you turn to him immediately. He really has a way of getting people's attention, especially with his voice. You nod at him. "Then might I ask you to tell me of what these statues mean?"

Huh. Now that you thought about it, he was looking at the displays when you first saw him, too. Maybe he'll cooperate easily with you if you tell him a couple of things about the museum. You should really tell someone, but at the same time-

You feel like the moment you tell someone else, he'd disappear from your view. You must be going mad.

"Follow me, then." You're no tour guide, but you do know of the things they speak of. So you repeat what you hear during the day.

You tell the golden-eyed man about the remains of the ancient Shu Kingdom four thousand years ago. You tell him of 50,000 artifacts unearthed in the ruins. He asks questions about the Bronze Age, of their masks and artworks, and you answer best you can while reading the displays.

Finally, you reach a corner where the fire exit is. He stops beside you.

"Sorry about this. But not gonna lie, I've let you stay long enough," you sigh.

He shakes his head and smiles softly. "You have done more than enough. I thank you for letting me see your world."

Your world? Odd choice of words. But if he really wasn't from here, then you guess in a sense this is a bit of your world.

"Just go past these doors and they'll lead you straight out the building. Do I need to escort you out?" He shakes his head and you open the door for him.

He passes through, but stops just before passing you. "May we meet again, Overseer."

"That's not really my name. Also I hope you wouldn't come back like this." You tell him your name, but he merely whispers it and smiles. "Oh, right, I forgot to ask yours."

He opens his mouth before closing it and shaking his head. "I fear that if I tell you my name, we will never see each other again. As such, I promise to tell you the next time we meet."

This guy gets weirder by the minute, but atleast your meeting was ending. "Just make sure to come back during visiting hours, alright? I don't wanna lose my job."

You close the door behind him, but just as you do, smoke and golden light slips past the cracks of the door. With a yelp, you throw the door open, expecting a fire, but there's nothing.

No robed man, no fire. Just the remains of a mist.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you were dreaming.

You think it's a dream. Not until by the next night, you find the same man. Same golden eyes, in armor of brown and gold.

He looks to you and offers another smile.

And he tells you his name.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#this is just Five Nights with Zhongli lmaooo #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #rex lapis x reader #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau zhongli #sagau rex lapis

509 notes · View notes

fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat · 1 year

Text

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand)

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: It was Steve's fault you got hurt last time, and it's Steve's fault again this time, too.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick, blood, mentions of s3 events, lots and lots of crying

Word Count: 4409

Notes: Hello everyone I kinda poured my heart and soul into this pls enjoy

My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Next Chapter!

July 5th, 1985 - 4:05 am

Steve had already decided what he was going to tell his parents about the state of his face. He was at a party, he’d say, and got into a fight with some drunk asshole who was hitting on you a little too hard. He tried to tell him to fuck off, but the guy got mad and threw the first punch. Steve won, of course.

A semi-believable story that involved zero Soviet torture doctors.

You’d made it out of the night without any black eyes or broken noses, but there was a sizable gash peeking out from under your hairline. The blood that had dripped from your temple down to your neck had been wiped away by one of the EMT’s, so the cut was really only visible if you already knew it was there. It wasn’t bad enough to warrant stitches, thankfully, but that did very little to quell Steve’s incessant worry. He didn’t like the way your whole body was trembling. Or the way your tights were ripped.

It took hours for the two of you to be able to go home, made longer by the mountains of contracts and NDA’s you were forced to sign. Steve had already gotten the super secret security rundown twice before. “You’ll probably end up with a good chunk of hush money, at least,” he had joked with you. “All of us did.”

You trailed behind Steve like a lost puppy as he unlocked his front door. He was just happy that you were alive at all.

You, for whatever reason, hadn’t made it into the same interrogation room as Robin and Steve. You weren’t there when Dustin and Erica arrived to get them, and you were nowhere to be seen during the big fight. Steve hadn’t even realized that you weren’t with them until whatever he’d been injected with was out of his system, but he was plunged into an ice cold panic the moment that he did. He begged Hopper to let him go back and look for you, though the idea got shot down immediately (‘Because clearly, you did so great down there the first time!’). Funnily enough, it was actually Murray, of all people, who found you first. He said you were about two seconds away from breaking his nose, if not for the fact that you were chained to the steel bench built into the wall.

The house was empty. Steve’s parents were spending the holiday weekend with his aunt and uncle two states away; thankfully, Steve hadn’t been dragged along this time. He always thought his dad’s brother was a creep anyway. Your parents were across the street, most likely sleeping soundly at the thought that their daughter was just out at a house party like a regular 18 year old. Of course, nothing about any of this was regular.

Steve’s usual post-saving-of-world routine was to down two doses of ibuprofen, take the hottest shower known to man, and sleep for a day, and there was definitely a part of him that wanted to do just that, but you were still hovering behind him like a ghost. Steve clicked on the lamp on the table next to the sofa as the two of you entered the living room.

“Sit, okay?” he told you. “I’ll find you some pajamas or something.”

You nodded to him, sullen and shaky, and lowered yourself into the pristine couch. It was cream colored and satiny, like it was designed to be easy to stain, and Steve had never actually been allowed to sit on it when he was little.

His whole body ached, but he trudged up the stairs anyway. He ducked into his own room to quickly strip off his decidedly disgusting uniform and put on a too-big sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants before picking out something for you. Steve came back down to find you wincing as you slowly pulled off your shoes.

“Jesus,” Steve remarked at the state of the white socks that slouched around your ankles over your tights. The backs were drenched in angry red, spread all the way around the heel and down the sides, and the nylon of your tights had big holes worn through that exposed just how ripped up the skin of your heels had become.

“I decided to put on new shoes this morning,” you sighed. “Hadn’t broken them in yet.”

While humiliating, he and Robin’s Scoops uniforms were actually pretty comfortable. The sneakers Steve had worn to work that day had held up wonderfully to all the walking (and running for his life) that he’d had to do all night, but you worked at one of the fancy department stores. You couldn’t wear sneakers or comfortable shorts, you had to wear smart, grown up clothes. You’d been running around all night in a pair of brand new, shiny black mary-janes and a skirt. It made Steve feel just a little bit sick to his stomach to think about.

“Fuck,” Steve huffed out. “Alright, hold on. There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

Steve bandaged up your ankles, carefully cleaning the wounds with the softest cloth he could find and cursing himself when you made a noise at the pain.

God, this was all his fault.

“You can take the room next to mine, if you want,” Steve said after you’d changed. “My parents won’t be home until Monday, so we won’t have to worry about them at all.”

“Okay,” you said, voice mouseish. You’d been to Steve’s house a million times before; you grew up across the street, the only other person his age in a neighborhood full of elderly couples and houses for sale. Even before Steve de-assholed, you’d still sneak out of the house to come drink stolen beers on the roof of his garage on the nights when he couldn’t stand to sleep.

That being said, ‘welcoming’ was not really a word you’d use to describe the Harrington household. The guest room next to Steve’s was, similar to the living room, untouched and pristine. Perfectly made bed, easily palettable decor, somehow devoid of dust despite the fact that it was clear no one had used the room in a very long time. The bed had a pink comforter, a dusty-rose kind of color.

The two of you had only been apart for an hour, maybe less, before Steve heard a knock on his bedroom door. He opened it to find your teary eyes on the other side.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Steve asked. He couldn’t either.

“I can’t-” you stuttered out. “I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

Steve knew the feeling.

He stepped out of the doorway to make room for you to come in. The pair of you stood too close to one another in the middle of his room in heavy, suffocating silence.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered.

“Don’t be,” you replied. You stepped forward and pressed your forehead against his shoulder.

“I am, though. I got you wrapped up in this fucking mess,” Steve said as he wrapped you up in a hug. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s my fault.”

“I’m the one who wanted to help you guys. I could’a just gone home, but I chose to stay. You didn’t do that, I did.”

“I still think you deserve to be mad at me.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, with Steve above your head wishing he could go back in time and fix all of this before it had the chance to get back to you.

“They told me you were dead,” you admitted through the quiet.

“What?”

“After they pulled me away,” you explained. “You and Robin, they told me you were both dead.”

“Oh, my god,” Steve huffed out. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.”

You muttered his name into his collar bone, and Steve pulled away just enough to be able to look at you. You were crying now, but so was he, and fuck, he wanted to kiss you. Kiss all of the tears away, and pull all of the horrible, fucked up things that had happened to you out of your memory, and as you stood looking at him, Steve realized that you had gotten the memo.

You leaned up and kissed him, so incredibly soft, making sure to be careful of his split lip. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as his hands came to meet the junction of your jawline and neck.

You pulled away from him first, tears still silently spilling from your eyes, and he touched his forehead to yours.

“I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

February, 1989

Steve was entirely zoned out behind the counter at Family Video when the shrill ring of the phone broke through his trance

“Thank you for calling your local Family Video. My name is Steve, how can I help you today?” Steve regurgitated the same spiel as he does every time he picks up the phone.

“What time do you get off work tonight?” you asked him. Steve knew your voice in an instant, and even through the crackle of the phone, he could hear that something was wrong.

“Eight. Why?” Steve inquired.

“I need you to come over,” you said. “It’s an emergency.”

Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Should I be calling Hopper?” he asked you. If something. . . upside down-ish was happening again, he was gonna lose his shit.

“No, nothing like that,” you clarified, and Steve let out a silent breath of relief. “It’s an entirely non-supernatural emergency.”

“Do you want me to come over now? I’m the boss-man. I can leave whenever I want,” Steve joked. He was trying his damnedest to hear your laugh come from the other end of the line.

“You’re a shift lead, Steve.”

“Yeah. Boss-man.”

There was only silence on the line for a moment.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble, is all,” you explained, and it made Steve's heart ache just a touch.

“It’s fine, I won't,” Steve said to placate your worry. “Twenty minutes, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, though you didn’t sound thrilled. It made Steve worry even more as he hung up the phone.

Steve knew the two of you were wildly codependent on each other. Believe him, Robin had been reminding him constantly over the past year since she’d caught the two of you in a house party bathroom.

The fact that the pair of you hadn’t actually made it official yet, despite the fact that you’d been sleeping with each other with relative consistency for three and half years, definitely didn’t help matters at all.

‘You are in love with her,’ Robin loved to point out. ‘And pretending to not be in love with her while also sleeping together is going to destroy your brain!’

She was right, of course. It absolutely was destroying his brain, but if he had to pick between having a destroyed brain but also having you, or not having a destroyed brain but also not having you, he’d pick a destroyed brain anyday. Even if he thought (knew) you didn’t necessarily feel the same way he did.

Steve parked his car in the empty space next to yours in your apartment building’s lot. He knew the code to the building’s door by heart now, and he’d had a spare key to your apartment for the last six months.

He let himself in, making sure to lock the door behind him once he was inside, and saw you shaking like a leaf on the couch.

Steve paused for a moment before he dropped his car keys onto the little table by the door. He was instantly plunged into crisis-management mode.

In recent years, Steve had become quite familiar with crisis management mode; put all the feelings to the side, and deal with the situation at hand. Was it healthy to stub out all of the mushy shit like that? No, probably not, but emotional healing was a lot easier to do when he didn’t have the threat of interdimensional horror hanging over his head.

Though, over the phone, you had promised him there was no interdimensional horror at the moment.

He toed off his shoes and rounded the coffee table to crouch in front of you. Your eyes followed his every movement, wide and glassy and enough to make Steve’s rib cage feel like it was about to cave in. He took your hands in his.

“What happened?” he asked you.

You shut your eyes, forcing more tears down the slope of your cheek. A small, quiet sob escaped your lips as you dipped your forehead onto Steve’s shoulder. He brought a hand up to graze over the back of your head, holding you close to him.

You were tougher than you looked, always had been. That wasn’t to say that Steve ever thought you were weak, but you were timid and quiet. Shy since birth, you never really stood out to Steve as a fighter until he saw you crack a Russian soldier over the back of the head with his own gun. You’d had a fire in your eyes that could’ve rivaled Nancy’s that night, before you had all been separated from one another. That fire was decidedly missing right now, though. Your tears seemed to have extinguished it.

“Hey, hey. Tell me what’s going on, yeah?” Steve asked.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered into his neck. You sounded small and, more pressingly, fucking terrified. Steve did his best to place a hand on either side of your face and pull back to get a good look at you, though you clearly didn’t want to be pulled away from your spot tucked into the collar of his crew-neck.

“Sorry for what, baby?” Pet names had previously been reserved for dirty-talk purposes only, but you’d started calling him ‘handsome’ a few months back as a joke (which quickly became much less of a joke), and now that rule had been thrown out the window. One more blurry boundary line in your relationship. “I wanna help, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Steve,” you murmured.

“You’re scaring me,” Steve told you, and it was true. “Is it something with your mom? Did she call?”

“No. She won’t. You know she won’t.”

“Then what’s happening? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this upset, and I will do everything I can to help, but-”

“I’m pregnant.”

You whispered it and Steve swore he felt his heart stop.

“What?” he whispered back. Surely you didn’t mean it. Surely he had to have misheard you.

“I’m pregnant.”

Definitely hadn’t misheard you, then.

“You-” It felt a bit like his brain had been replaced by cotton balls. “How sure are you?”

“Uhm, I took a test here, and it came back positive, but the box said that you can get false results sometimes, so I waited a couple days and took another one, but then that said the same thing,” you rambled. “So then, I went to that clinic on Poplar and got a blood test, and they called me earlier today and said that that one was positive, too.”

“Very sure,” Steve said in response to your onslaught.

You only nodded in agreement.

Steve could hear the drip drip drip of your leaky kitchen sink, the sound of your cat batting around his favorite toy mouse, your neighbors downstairs fighting like they did most nights. He could hear your ragged breathing, and the beginnings of your quiet sobs, and his own heartbeat in his ears. He didn’t know what to say to you, how to get you to calm down, and he didn’t think he had the mental capacity to figure it out right now, so he didn’t say anything at all. You stayed quiet too, tucked away in your own little world of the smell of Steve’s cologne and the soft of his hair.

Steve was about two seconds away from completely shutting down when your pitiful voice sliced through the silence.

“Steve, I don’t know what to do.”

That kicked his brain back into gear.

“That’s okay,” he said from his spot on the floor. His emotions get tucked underneath the floorboards so he can deal with yours first. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know right now.”

And you two stayed there, you on your couch and him with his back pressed against the hard edge of your coffee table, for a good long while. Your sniffles had graduated to full on bawling and you were clinging to him like he was a liferaft. You were petrified. His head was swimming and he felt a little bit like his heart might explode, but he wasn’t about to let you know that.

Logically, the next step would be to talk about. . . all of it. What you wanted to do, and what that would look like, and all of it, but you weren’t able to get a word in. Even though Steve knew it was what needed to happen next, the thought of actually having to face the music made him feel sick.

“We’ll figure it out, alright?” Steve said into your hair. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

You just sort of fell limp against him once you had run out of tears. Steve’s back was starting to cramp up from being squished against the table, and when he moved to plant himself onto the sofa next to you, you stayed adhered to his side.

“Steve, I don’t-”

“I know. It’s okay.” I don’t know what to do had become your mantra of the evening. Steve was in the exact same boat, though, and the best idea he’d had all night was distraction, so distraction it would be. He paused for a moment before asking you, “are you hungry?”

You tilted your gaze to him, looking confused.

“How ‘bout I go and get us something to eat from that diner you like, and we can watch a movie or something. Then we can talk about it in the morning, yeah?” Steve suggested. You didn’t seem all that on board with the idea, though. “Is that okay?”

“I can’t keep anything down,” you explained after a moment.

Oh, yeah. People get sick when they're pregnant. Steve hadn’t really thought about that part yet.

��Right. Well, have you tried at all today?” he inquired. You shook your head.

“Not since last night.”

Great. You’re already terrified and now you can’t even eat.

“Look, I’ll get you a grilled cheese, and an extra large Sprite for your stomach in case the sandwich doesn’t work out, and I’ll stay here with you all night,” Steve said.

“Okay,” you said with a nod and a sad smile. You seemed to understand what he was doing, though you showed no signs of protest. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said as he got up and slipped his feet back into his shoes. He scooped up his keys and shot you a smile before opening the door. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You nodded, giving him the green light to leave. He half-jogged down the stairwell and out into the parking lot, and he barely made it into the driver’s seat before he started crying.

Guilt settled in his chest in an instant at the thought, but the first thing that popped into his head when he was finally alone was that his dad was going to fucking kill him. And not just in a figurative, ‘oh no I scratched the car, dad’s gonna kill me’ kind of way; his father was going to pick up a weapon and actually kill him. Then, Hopper was gonna kill him after his dad did. You two weren’t even actually dating; how was he going to explain any of this? ‘Hey, dad! I accidentally knocked up my not-quite-girlfriend/best friend with benefits!’ That’ll go over splendidly. That’s two people added to the list of people who wanted to kill him.

What was going to happen next, then? He was having difficulty figuring out the answer.

Whatever you wanted to do, obviously, but you didn’t know what that was, and yeah, he was scared shitless, but you were beyond terrified. Scared in a way Steve had never seen you before. That made him feel about a million times worse.

‘Cause he was still just a shitty kid, who still lived with his shitty parents and worked a shitty job, and even with his shitty promotion, he still made a shitty wage. A shitty wage that definitely wouldn’t be enough to raise a kid, and-

He was spiraling, he could feel it, and he’d never been more grateful to see the glowing neon of an OPEN sign in his life.

He parked the car. He got out of the car. He opened the door to the restaurant. He walked up to the counter and a girl he used to know from high school took his to-go order. If he remembered correctly, she was a tattoo apprentice.

“You alright?” possible-tattoo-apprentice ask Steve after ringing in the food. “You seem a little, I don’t know, freaked out.”

“Yeah,” Steve replied with a tight lipped smile and curt nod. “Yeah, no. I’m good.”

She looked right through his lie, but moved on to a couple of older men sitting at the counter with coffee refills anyway.

Steve, in the ten minutes it took for the food to come out, stood leaning against the wall in utter silence. In that silence, he allowed himself to live in what was probably an irresponsible thought; the one where the two of you actually did have a kid, and a house, and maybe a dog if he’s lucky. Something that maybe was a lot less far off in the future than he thought. Steve used to want kids, when he was younger. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d had every single stereotype of the American dream shoved down his throat his whole life, but he really had wanted it at one point. That was before everything, though. Before the monsters, and the chaos, and all the awful shit he’d roped you into. Before it all came back, and then came back again, again, again. Any dream of a family had been stubbed out by the fear that it could all one day be ripped apart.

Despite that, despite the fact that he knew every single reason that it could never happen like the back of his goddamn hand, he did nothing to try and save himself from drowning in the fantasy. The image of you holding his baby made his chest go tight and he wanted it more than anything in the world, but fuck, what happens if everything goes to shit again? He had done a pretty awful job at keeping you away from it the first few times, you had the nightmares to prove it, so how could he possibly protect his kid from it, too?

The food came out and he was rocked back into reality.

He left the restaurant, stopping on the way back to your apartment at a 7/11 for the Sprite he had promised. He grabbed some anti-nausea medicine too, but it wasn’t until he got into the car that he realized there was a big warning on the back of the box: ‘Do not take if you are pregnant or breastfeeding.’

Awesome.

He did his best to scrub any evidence of tears out of his eyes in the rearview mirror, and got out of the car.

You were waiting for him on the couch, just as you had been when he had left. You smiled at him when he walked through the door, still the sad self pitying kind, but a smile nonetheless.

“I come bearing grilled cheese,” he said as he placed the bag on the coffee table. The joke didn’t land.

“You were crying?” you asked once you were able to get a good look at him, the shake in your voice back once again. Clearly he hadn’t done a good enough job in the rear view.

“N-no, no. I wasn’t, I-”

“You were,” you interrupted him, and Steve knew better than to try and deny it. You looked like you were about to start crying again, too, and Steve could feel the twist of the knife in his side. He rounded the table to sit next to you, and you drew yourself into him in an instant. Tucked into his arms, you did start crying again (how you had any tears left, Steve didn’t know) and just barely whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey. No sorries, okay?” he said. You wouldn’t look up at him, just shook your head. “Look, if we’re gonna blame anybody, it should probably be me, right?”

Thankfully, that line was enough to finally bubble a laugh out of your chest.

“I’m serious!” Steve took the joke and ran with it in a desperate attempt to lift your spirits even in the slightest. “I mean, it was my, y’know. . . fluids.”

“Oh, gross, dude!” you exclaimed, playfully slapping his shoulder as you sat up straight. “Don’t say it like that!”

“That’s just biology, babe.”

“I know that, I just don’t want to have to think about your fluids when I’m trying to eat,” you quipped at him as you pulled the styrofoam boxes out of the bag on the table, opening the first of the two and passing it his way. It seemed like you were feeling better, and even if you were faking it, Steve would take it.

“Hey,” Steve called to you through the quiet chatter of the TV after a moment. You turned your face to meet his and the moment his eyes locked on to yours, it seemed like every word he had wanted to say to you had slipped out of his mind. Your voice reeled them all back in, though.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever you wanna do, okay?” he stuttered out. He was pretty sure he might start crying again.

“Right. Yeah.” Your smile faded in an instant at the reminder of the situation.

“And whatever that, y’know, looks like,” Steve continues. “I’ll be right next to you, holding your hand the whole time.”

You give him a pitiful, heart crushing smile, and the pair of you didn’t bring it up again all night.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #joe keery #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x you #stranger things imagines #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x f!reader

2K notes · View notes

rebouks · 2 months

Text

Previous // Next

[Brodie flicked through the mail, instantly recognising the scrawling handwriting of a certain redheaded little boy. Scaring a few birds in the process, he bellowed up the stairs: ALEEEEX!] Alex: [breathless] Is it for me?! Brodie: Nah, but I could do with some help carrying this super heavy envelope upstairs. Alex: Who do you think you are, Johnny Zest? Brodie: I’m better than that guy, c’mon…

… Hi Alex! Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to you, I promise I didn’t forget! I guess I just didn’t really know what to say cos I’ve sorta not felt like myself recently. My mom says I disappear into my own world sometimes so I sorta did that again and found it hard to think of anything fun to say. I don’t think I’d mind if you wrote to me about the less fun parts of your life though n’ my dad says you shouldn’t really keep everything to yourself all the time cos it ends up hurting so I thought I’d write anyway n’ just force myself not to worry about being boring or whatever. Your letters and your life always sound so exciting compared to mine though so sometimes it’s hard not to!!

I got in a fight at school which sounds like it should be an exciting story, but it wasn’t really. There’s this kid called Levi in my class that always picks on me (don’t worry though, I don’t care about that) and I couldn’t be bothered listening to him anymore so I hit him a couple times, I thought he’d hit me back but he just freaked out so I sorta felt bad about it afterward. He still makes fun of me but he doesn’t get up in my face as much so that’s a plus. Who says violence doesn’t solve anything? Hahaha I’m kidding! It wasn’t nice of me but maybe he should know better than to push people around so much.

I’m looking forward to summer so I can wander off a bit more and maybe it won’t rain so much! My mom doesn’t really like it when I go too far but as long as I’m back before curfew she tries not to freak out about it which is nice of her cos she knows I like to explore n’ stuff. I shouldn’t complain about my family cos I love them n’ stuff but I like being on my own sometimes and it’d be nice to have a bit of peace now n’ then. I’ve got SUPER good hearing so it’s hard to find anywhere quiet in my house, especially cos there’s always something crazy going on. My aunt Alma is sorta similar to me so she’s been helping me block out the noise with this meditation sorta thing, I guess it’s hard to explain but it’s not as lame as it sounds, it’s kinda fun to see how long you can stay in your own brain without people interrupting you. That probably sounds really weird but maybe you sorta get what I mean?

I finally have a treehouse now too!! It reminds me of your watchtower in some ways, but I guess it’s no way cooler than that, even though I know you’re bored of it by now. I wish we could hang out in it together cos it’s super awesome! Mom n’ dad don’t really bother me when I’m up there n’ my brother n’ sisters can’t manage the ladder yet so it’s all mine! It’s right at the bottom of the garden and looks out over the whole Bay too! Mom said she might let me sleep in it once it gets a bit warmer! It’d be cool falling asleep to the sound of the waves.. I hope it doesn’t end up making me need to pee all night though haha!!

Wren’s been obsessed with watching me play on the computer recently and I keep tryna teach her how to play herself but her little fingers can’t really reach all the buttons on the keyboard too well and she gets stupid mad when she dies so she just makes me play instead. She’d kick me if I told anyone but she’s a bit scared of some of the monsters too lol!! Mom told me I shouldn’t let her watch those ones but they’re the only ones she WANTS to watch and she jumps all over me until I give in so idk what they expect me to do other than lock her in the pantry, but I got told off for that so I guess I shouldn’t do that again haha (Wren thought it was funny though so it’s all good!) It’s a shame you don’t have a computer in the tower otherwise we could play together! Jude n’ Jacob aren’t really into that sorta thing so I usually just play on my own. Do you have a computer back home??

Oh! I got another badge for my swimming lessons too! I’ve almost got em all now which is neat but I sorta wanna avoid getting the last ones cos anyone that gets them all or has good attendance n’ whatever get an award at the end of the school year. They save em all up to give out at some stupid last year disco thing they put on before summer for the last year kids n’ it’d be so cringe to get called out in front of everyone like that. Some people think it’s gonna be amazing like my friend Jude, but I’d rather not go at all. Mom n’ dad keep saying it’ll be fun n’ everyone else is excited about it too but how fun could something be if you’re technically at SCHOOL? Bleh! I know you said you hate it sometimes, but being homeschooled sounds awesome to me lol.

I keep tryna bug my parents to go camping again so we could maybe see each other but they won’t take me out of school for a holiday n’ dad’s too busy with some work project so I guess we’ll have to keep writing to each other instead! Maybe if I keep annoying them about it we can come back in the summer! I hope so anyway but I guess I don’t wanna piss em off TOO much just in case my plan backfires or something.

I still feel really bad about not writing sooner but my dad said better late than never so hopefully you’re not too upset with me! I’ll try my best to write faster next time so you don’t have to wait as long. I’m looking forward to hearing about everything you’ve been up to!! Love Robin c: ps. my dad’s friend finally helped me fix that old polaroid so I’ve sent you some random pictures I took to test it out! I’m still getting used to it but the next ones will be better, I swear!

… the treehouse! it even has cool lights on it!! the back of our house! it’s so big it’s hard to fit in a picture.. it sorta looks fancy but it’s not really n’ dad said it was cheap cos it was a shithole a rare Byrd! (grumpy too – dad tried to take his dummy off him lol) he’s not supposed to be on my bed… the Bay! Jude says I sound girly for saying it’s so pretty here but I don’t care I could take a million pictures of this place n’ never get bored (I’ll stop now though cos mom says these polaroid things aren’t cheap for this model.. oops lol!!)

160 notes · View notes

azulsluver · 10 months

Note

I just want to ramble a little bit but- My personal scenario/headcanon for Bully au (which by the way, I love your writing) is that maybe one day reader decides to disappear, even if for a little while, maybe they just hide in some place for a long period of time (or hilariously and sneakily find a way to avoid their bullies throughout an entire day, or even crazier a whole week!!). They're so emotionally destroyed that they start to actually believe their insults and awful treatment they endured, and so they decide to just isolate themselves further somewhere no one can "be burdened by me"- Which in turn causes everyone else to at first get pissed off and then more and more (slightly, very slightly) worried that their punching bag is missing.... Perhaps, even have escaped them? 👀 I would love to see who loses their composure first, even if they don't admit their obsession at all lmao

Anon you don’t know what you’re doing to me //0//

tw. Bully!characters, no one takes you seriously kinda, yandere, stalking, baby tantrums.

This was more crack than anything serious…idk what happened but rants bellow!

They genuinely start tweakin:

Riddle, Deuce, Kalim, Malleus, Jack, Silver, Ruggie, Idia, Vil

They’re the ones that usually have their eyes on you, to find out that you’re missing and not at a place they SPECIFICALLY told you to be/stay flares their attention. Sure they can last a couple of days without you but a week? Nuh uh, they think they’re responsible for whatever you do, once they find you you’re getting a whole lecture. Telling you they’d get in trouble if they hadn’t found you sooner but let’s be real here.

But if you hid in a place far far away from them (which is impressive and impossible tbh) they’re already having a meltdown. Biting fingernails, aggressively running their fingers through their hair. All of that, and the ones who usually stay composed in situations like these (Ruggie/Riddle/Malleus) start to overthink so bad that they look beyond stress. It’s the thought that maybe you ran away from them or worse got kidnapped or lost. Which makes them have more of a reason to keep a tighter leash on you.

Ok but Kalim, Idia and Deuce cry like babies and throw tantrums.

Let the imagination work so think of Vil sitting on the kitchen table with his hair tied up and a face mask on while wearing a robe, a cup of coffee in his hands as he stares off into the distance that looks like he’s about to stab someone. He deadass thinks he’s growing grey hairs and has eyebags because his favorite punching bag is missing after two weeks. Who is he gonna step on now..

Gets pissed off:

Leona, Ace, Azul, Sebek, Epel, Jamil

“But why?” Is what they said when they perfectly understand the problem. Do they feel bad? No. In fact people like Leona and Azul can go through days without you because they’re always busy with something rather than terrorizing you. BUT you have to understand that as much as they pretend to not care they aren’t willing to clean up the mess after your pity party.

Jamil and Sebek are only mad about you disappearing is because of Malleus and Kalim’s whining. Please save them.

Ace and Epel are the ones who are mega mad as in a corny way. “How dare my punching bag run away from me and disappear for days!!” Typa stuff. Unbeknownst to them they double the insults and it makes you even more depressed lmaoo.

Ehhh Jamil may actually panic as well, because when Kalim isn’t happy no one is. And he does misses you personally, worries when he finds you (which is really scary to [Name’s] pov bc why is he so caring??) he’s all over you to make sure you aren’t injured or anything. Still pissed so he might slap the back of your head a couple of times and lecture you + same thing goes when Sebek finds you except he doesn’t comfort you.

Thinks it’s amusing:

Rook, Jade, Floyd, Trey, Cater, Lilia,

“Ohoho did I go overboard?” Yea you did. Anyways little shits don’t feel bad in fact they think it’s funny and cute that you disappeared because you couldn’t handle the insults and took it for granted. Lilia and Jade giving you false comfort just to do it all over again when you make a mistake. They probably already know your hiding spots and camp there to experiment how long it’ll take for you to come crawling back.

Maybe, just a little bit that Trey feels bad. He coddles you for a while then goes right back to gaslighting because he’s always right and when he says these things to you it’s because you’re wrong!! The type to restrict his affections if you decide to go into another episode of running away and crying. Cater knows where ya at bc you have location on.

At first Floyd was pissed because his resting place is missing, like bae where you go? But eventually he understands where you went because for some reason he’s bullying everyone around him and stalking your location to see where ya at. Mocks you once he finds you, really mean but it wasn’t “entirely” intentional. Like he knows he’s at fault and is trying to cheer you up by mocking your “problems”. Ok but don’t do that again or he’s going on the genuinely tweakin box.

We all saw Rook being in this section no surprise. Knows every little place you could be right now, has his eyes on you 24/7. “My love I didn’t mean to say your lips are chapped and you can use some Vaseline but the whole thing would be gone isa joke :(“ it’s not. Purposely picks out your insecurities so you can do another runaway.

585 notes · View notes

lightfeltmemories · 5 months

Text

trouble trio sharing a partner.

characters include: feitan, phinks, shalnark

note: fun fact, this was left as a draft on my main for like over a year and i read over it and thought.... it would be better on here, but anyway, there's a lot of adult trio poly stuff, why not trouble trio? I have plans (just me announcing it, I already know it'll take years for me to actually go through with making said content) on making trouble trio content, fanfics and whatnot. so, here's a headcanon post about how the trouble trio would go with a polygamous relationship with the reader, nsfw themes will have a 🔞 on the side so look out! and when it comes to requesting anything similar to this..... no, i will not do the adult trio.

trigger warnings: yandere tendencies (but there's no actual yandere stuff like obsessiveness and whatever, most of it is just their normal way of showing affection), mentions of kidnapping, possessiveness, reader's eventual death, feitan carves his initials onto you because "you're his."

parts of this contain nsfw material, do not interact if you are a minor.

How It Starts

So, who are you? For them to actually even care about your existence, you would either have to be a part of the troupe or be someone they know way back from Meteor City, I highly doubt they would go heart eyes over some really stunning person they ran into on a mission or so, because looks aren't everything, right? A pretty girl, a handsome boy, or an attractive genderless person isn't gonna phase them in the slightest, unless you're powerful enough to woo them out their boots, other than that, the choices are; being apart of the troupe (which is the most likely case, since they have a chance of them all being with you more often) or you being a friend of theirs in meteor city and their feelings grew overtime.

Who would fall for your first? I'm honestly tied between Phinks and Shalnark, for Feitan it would take like 2 billion years for his crush to kick in since he isn't in tune with his more softer emotions (yet), Shalnark to me is.... odd... he seems like the type to fall for someone oh so easy but dude is like, the personified version of "don't judge a book by its cover," and the only thing Phinks got going for him is..... anger issues, so I'd go with Phinks on this one! of course when people (troupe members) ask him about his affections towards you, he denies them with the most obvious blush on his face, his infatuation isn't exactly that obvious but there are some hints like him wanting to be next to you more or even the two of you hanging out on your off days! next on the list: Shalnark, so how exactly would he fall for you? well, he'd probably get paired up with you more on missions and when he starts to hang out with you more he starts to feel himself grow fond of you more, and it slowly grows into a crush! kind of simple really. And finally after those 2 billion years are up, Feitan is up next! Everyone has this collective idea that if he realizes he has a crush on you, he'd do the opposite of his two counterparts; he'd want to avoid you so that the feelings won't grow stronger as he considers it a distraction, he may even contemplate on killing you, which is something I really hate to say since I feel like the idea is slightly far fetched for his character (i'm guilty of saying this myself but i considering the topic of that specific post i wanted to be dramatic) but I can see why people think this, killing you only goes if you aren't a member of the troupe but since you are, he'd have to deal with you, forcing himself to accept the fact as time goes by that he is in love with you, he's confused with his feelings when it comes to you, he isn't used to crushes, no one to him is that special for him to fall for, love is very sacred to him, it's something he and the others mentioned above haven't really experienced, and as it grows, he starts to form a soft spot for you as he gets to know you well, he starts to find parts of you that made him like you to begin with. (ik Feitan's is kinda longer than the others but I'm biased he's my fav).

How would they act around you? This was really hard to do for some reason but I already stated above that Phinks would hang out with you more and would be near you a lot, at first his affections towards you wouldn't be too different to how he acts towards others, for someone like him he's pretty good at hiding his infatuation, though over time he's starting to loose the "I have a crush on Y/N" allegations, the others would tease him a little for how he acts around you, he shows to have more sympathy and affection for you, like he's more handsy with you than everyone else, and is most definitely protective over you, he really is a girly girl, ain't he? Shalnark is a bit more happier when he's in your presence, he opens up with you way more than everyone else (when you two are alone ofc) and plays video games with you, he'll never give you a break and let you win though, he's just too good! (And competitive) May not be as protective as Phinks but he damn sure isn't gonna let you getting injured slide. Feitan once again is an interesting case, since he's come to terms with him being infatuated with you, the signs will be waaaay more subtle than Phinks', you would lowkey be left confused, like something tells you he likes you but you can't exactly prove he does, you're seen with him more often, he talks to you more, but in the beginning that's about it really, but overtime he gets more handsy with you like Phinks but not as much, he would most definitely tease you when he's in a good mood, giving you nicknames and such, and of course, very protective over you.

Confessing & Relationship

Finding out they all like you! When they start to see one of the other become more affectionate towards you, shit starts to get real, a scenario where Feitan sees you and Shalnark playing a newly released game, the both of you are so happy, laughing and all, and Feitan is hiding somewhere and just stares at the both of you, the worst scenarios are running through his mind, are they dating? do they like him? he wants to do something about it but can't because for one troupe members can't fight and two, he sees how happy you are, how can he ruin that? Another scenario is the old fashioned switcheroo where you and Feitan are getting a little too handsy with one another, he's got his hand on your thigh and your hand on his shoulder, Shalnark is now in Feitan's shoes, bad scenarios running through his brain thinking the two of you have a thing for each other, a part of him wants to step in but he can't. It's kind of subtle at first until everything starts to build up, they can see each other's jealousy seeping through, let's say Phinks was the one to save you from an attacker and Feitan wasn't quick enough, a glare is shot at Phinks' way as he sees the way he's holding you and reassuring you, and he catches it, he's confused, what the hell is going on? Another scenario where the troupe is having fun or whatnot and you and Shalnark are laughing about something a little too hard, he spots both Phinks and Feitan seething in jealousy, he's also confused! Until it all hits the three of them; they all like you!

Them finding out..... So, when they finally sit and conversate about the rising tensions between them to solve it, they come to the conclusion that you are the reason why, how will they go about this? They all have a goal in mind; a monogamous relationship with you, they are all trying their absolute hardest not to start anything between them, they were all on good terms until this very incident, they had no idea what to do about this, their own friends are crushing on the same person they want, and the tensions can only grow from here, and beyond this point things can go either north (good) or south (bad) really quickly. From here on out, they challenge themselves to impress you so that one of them finally gets you, an unspoken rule, until they realize that you like all three of them, and things grow extra confusing, they're happy because "yay they like me!" but also mad because "grrr they like him back!!" So everyone involved is kinda like.............. "omg??"

Poly? So, because everything came out, they all like you and you like all of them back, they're stuck here wondering how this will work, a polygamous relationship isn't even a thought to them because they just want to have you, and it may be one of your biggest fantasies, you eventually let it out that you want all of them at the same time and because of their confusion you would have to explain to them, they argue that it's not going to work well, since for one, they are all territorial when it comes to you, Feitan is most definitely the worst one since he's never exactly felt this feeling before and it's most likely his first crush and potential relationship, and since you're pretty special to him he doesn't want to lose you to someone else, in all honesty he'd probably kidnap you and hide you away from Phinks and Shalnark if you weren't apart of the troupe, so you can be his forever, yayyy, we love yanderes!!!! Phinks is in the middle, while yes he wants you to himself he doesn't want to admit that he would want to at least give it a chance, Shalnark is pretty chill, the idea of him having you to himself is nice also, but a polygamous relationship would probably solve all this conflict between them.

They Agree, so The Relationship Starts Here! So they decided that just for you, they would all agree to date you, of course at first this doesn't sit right with them since they want you to be with one of them, but they're also like... shit, I mean we all technically got what we wanted so we might as well make the best of it!

Small Miscellaneous Things

When they don't receive enough attention. Despite you all agreeing on a polygamous relationship, they all still get jealous whenever one is getting more attention than the other, when Phinks isn't receiving enough attention he gets more agitated, prone to more outbursts and will even straight up pull you away from the other, when Shalnark isn't receiving more attention, he would tap your shoulder or find ways to annoy you like hugging you or getting in your face, when Feitan isn't receiving more attention he finds ways to get yours by breaking something like a glass cup so that you can at least say a few words to him even if they aren't exactly the most kind, or staring at you for an ungodly amount of time to the point where you can physically feel his eyes on you, or like Phinks, will pull you away from the other so that you can be with him more.

🔞 What sex is like! Sex isn't too different from the usual, you can't really have group sex with them often since shit gets competitive real fast, they will go above and beyond to make you cum the hardest and scream the loudest, but when one or two of them so happens to be away, Feitan will make marks on your body to be territorial, so show the other two or to other people outside that he was the one who made that mark there, and it's even worse because he puts them in places that aren't exactly the easiest to cover, either it be a bite mark or a scar that spells out his initials. Shalnark will mark hickeys on your neck or will have photos of you having his cum dripping on your face or you laying beside him just completely slutted out and send them to the other two just for giggles, Phinks won't do anything outrageous (he can't you'll fucking die) but will have you wear his clothes afterwards to let the other two know when they get back who fucked them out ;).

Things start to get better! Overtime they start to realize that the petty fights over who gets to spend more time with you are meaningless, and that they all love you and you all love them, it takes them a while for them to come to these terms, but in the end, it gets better for the future, and everyone loves each other, movie nights aren't filled with who's chest you get to lay on anymore, sex isn't "who gets to make them cum harder" more, you don't feel as if you're some type of prized possession, you're now treated with actual respect and love and consideration, of course there's fights here and there like any other normal couple, but life is good.... for them anyway.

You were murdered! If they ever come into your house to find it ransacked, their first priority is to see if you're alright, they find your body laying in your room, devoid of all life, shit starts to get real, they never rest to look for the one who did this to you, since Shalnark has cameras hidden away around the house, it doesn't take long to find out who did it from hacking and such, and once they find them, it takes so much to not just rip their head to shreds and feed it to wild animals, Feitan wants to give them the worst of all of his tortures, and afterwards they die by their phinks blowing their head clean off their shoulders or shit maybe shalnark will do it.

#hunter x hunter #trouble trio x reader #phinks magcub #shalnark ryusei #feitan portor #phinks x reader #shalnark x reader #feitan x reader #hxh

182 notes · View notes

jupiterslvr · 6 months

Text

ok I’m here talking about Bottoms again (mainly Hazel because I fucking love her she’s the best) this time I wanna talk about my take on Pj and Hazel

me personally I do not ship Pj and Hazel at all, and I don’t get how people do. I mentioned this briefly in my last post talking about Hazel but literally Pj was such an asshole towards Hazel 99% of the movie

so at the beginning of the movie in the fair when she asks Hazel but what she did she was so backhanded and referred to where Hazel and her uncle was at the “slop farm” and that’s where it started for me, the when she just took Hazels cotton candy then ended up throwing it on the floor when Hazel made it very clear she wanted it still

then when Hazel would suggests thing for the club meetings Pj would shoot her ideas down then proceed to take credit for it to lie to other girls. then as I mentioned in my last post briefly when they were in the circle venting and when it was Hazels turn and she legit SPILLED HER HEART OUT Pj cut her off to get back to Brittany and brushed Hazels feelings off.

Pj just always seemed bothered by Hazels literal existence when Hazel was always nothing but sweet,genuine, and thoughtful. Then the scene where they thought the club was gonna shut down and Pj was so mad that she didn’t get what she wanted, not only couldn’t she take accountability but she proceeded to embarrass Hazel by using something against her that she was already vulnerable about and called her mom a skank… then proceeded to act mad and surprised when Hazel ratted them out to Tim like she didn’t say what she said about Hazel and her mom

then only apologized to Hazel because I’m pretty sure Josie made her and it was a half ass apology at that. nothing about Pj’s actions and words towards Hazel was romantic to me in any way shape or form. so when they decided to throw in that little kiss it was funny to me but I also didn’t really like

it cause it just seemed so forced. that’s why I don’t get how people can ship them when Pj was a literal bitch towards Hazel for 99% of the movie, hate to break to y’all but whatever Pj and Hazel got going on it isn’t love nor is it romantic in anyway, it was just forced in

Hazel deserves better and better isn’t Pj 💀

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #pj bottoms #josie bottoms

186 notes · View notes

wooahaes · 7 months

Text

interrogation room

pairing: non-idol!96z & gn!reader

genre: fluff. goofy silly fluff

word count: ~0.8k

warnings: n/a just a silly interrogation of reader's housemates

daisy's notes: yes this IS a prequel to the seokmin fic-

“You may be wondering why I’ve summoned the three of you here today—”

“We all live here.”

Despite Wonwoo’s interruption, you took a deep breath. You pulled up a picture of yourself that you’d taken maybe a week ago, zoomed in specifically to the flannel you had been wearing there. Of course, you wanted to hold this interrogation until Soonyoung was home—but he hadn’t answered your texts, and this was the rare moment that most of you were in the same space and didn’t have anywhere to be.

“I left my flannel on the couch,” you said. “It’s one of my bigger ones so it’s extra warm and comfy… And now it’s missing.”

“Didn’t it get thrown in with the laundry?” Jun looked around. “It’s your favorite.”

“Why was it on the couch to begin with?” Jihoon piped up. “I thought we agreed—”

You shook your head, “That’s not the point right now, we can bitch about leaving clothes out later.” You turned your attention to Wonwoo, who had been quietly observing after that earlier remark. “Wonwoo?”

“I know of the flannel,” he said. “But if I wanted to borrow it, I would have asked.”

You nodded slowly, turning the thought over in your mind. He had a point. Wonwoo borrowed clothing from you before—a hoodie you owned, and a scarf another time. He’d always made a point of asking before he took things from you, and usually made sure you saw him returning them. “Okay. Jihoon—”

“I don’t wear other people’s clothes.”

Jun furrowed his brow. “You wore my hoodie yesterday?”

Jihoon’s face started turning red. “I don’t wear other people’s clothes often. I wouldn’t have worn your flannel anyway.”

You marked Jihoon down in your mind as ‘occasional liar when embarrassed.’ You would focus on him again later, let him cool off first before you really turned the heat up on him (by literally asking again and promising you wouldn’t be that mad if he lost it).

Before you could turn your attention to Jun, your phone went off. When you pulled it out, it was Soonyoung, saying something about how he had his own flannels. Why would he borrow one of yours? Which was fair enough: sometimes you and Soonyoung had similar fashion tastes. He wouldn’t need to borrow your flannel when he probably had one similar enough to it to pull his outfit together.

“Jun.” You looked up. “Did you take it?”

“It’s your favorite one,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t take it without you knowing.”

Wonwoo, despite finding a little amusement in how serious you were taking all of this, tapped your arm. “Are you sure it isn’t buried in your closet? I’ve seen it. We could lose Jihoon in there—”

“It’s not that bad!” You pouted. “But yes, it’s not in there, because I organized the damn thing while looking for it.”

“Why do you need it so badly?” Jun spoke up. “I’m sure we’ll find it, but you’re acting really serious about this.”

For a moment, you debated not telling them. Yet you let out a sigh. “It’s my lucky flannel… and I’ve got a date on Saturday, and I really want it to go well because he’s really sweet, and—”

Jun waved a hand to stop you before you. “We’ll help you find it.”

“Is it Seokmin?” Jihoon asked after a moment, and when you nodded, he, too, nodded to himself. “I see.”

Despite the way your heart warmed at having your housemates care for you, you pouted. “Okay, so one of you had to have accidentally grabbed it. So that means—”

The door suddenly opened with a chime, and the four of you turned to see Soonyoung making his way inside. His headphones were on, and he was bobbing his head to whatever song he was listening to. He paid little to no attention to any of you as he stopped to slip out of his clunky shoes and into his house slippers, eyes pinned to his phone as he stepped up.

“YOU!”

Soonyoung’s head jerked up, pulling his headphones off. “Huh?”

Flannel thief located. “I asked you if you’d seen it!”

“Seen what…?”

Jun leaned back in his chair enough to peer around Jihoon, “You’re wearing their flannel. It’s been missing for days.”

Soonyoung stood still for a moment, looking down at himself. The flannel still had one of your favorite pins attached to the breast pocket, a clear sign that this was your flannel he’d accidentally stolen. “... Isn’t this mine?”

Soonyoung: Exit pursued by four housemates yelling.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

171 notes · View notes

n0vabug · 9 months

Text

Toxic

Summary: Maddy thinks the reader is cheating on her

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, Cassie being a bitch and flirting with the reader, slight mentions of drinking, etc. Words: 1.5k

THIRD PERSON POV

(Y/N) was a pretty quiet person, but could be very talkative if she was comfortable enough. (Y/N) had met Kat during their Freshmen year, they quickly became very close. As they got further into high school, they met more and more people and their friend group started to form. Kat, (Y/N), Lexi, Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Rue. (Y/N) had set her eyes on Cassie Howard at first, they dated in their Sophomore year for about 3 months, but Cassie got really controlling and a bit crazy too. After that, (Y/N) went through a bit of a depressive episode, because even though Cassie was controlling and crazy, (Y/N) had still loved her. Maddy quickly noticed (Y/N) during this time, so Maddy decided to try and help her through this. Cassie was her best friend after all, so Maddy gave some great advice and became really close with (Y/N). After that (Y/N) developed feelings for Maddy and accidentally blurted it out once while she was drunk. Maddy mentioned it when (Y/N) was sober, and lets just say, it went great. They started dating the summer before Junior year and during Junior year.

It is Sunday, which was always when Maddy and (Y/N) hung out together, they usually went out to different places. Yes, every weekend, but both of them seemed to really love it and if one of them had a bad week, or just had any stress or something bad going on, that's when they would go to the other's house, and have a movie night with their favorite snacks and drinks, whoever was sad or stressed got to pick the movie they watched and got a lot of kisses and cuddles.

"(Y/N) come here!" Maddy yelled from the other side of the store. "Yes, Maddy?"

"You would look so good in this!" Maddy held up a dress, which in (Y/N's) opinion, was very ugly."1. I love you Maddy, but I hate that color. 2. Again, I love you, but I'm gonna be completely honest, that is really ugly."

"Ugh, whatever bitch, it would probably look better on me anyways." Maddy said jokingly, which made (Y/N) give Maddy a look of offense. "Chill out, I'm just joking." Maddy said, then giving (Y/N) a quick peck on the lips.

(Y/N) and Maddy walked around the mall, with their hands intertwined the entire time, until they finished going inside every store that looked appealing to them. As they were about to walk out, Maddy spoke up, "Okay so like I really need to pee, I'm going to find a bathroom before I get a UTI." (Y/N) chuckled at this and just waited for Maddy outside the bathroom. While standing there, (Y/N) thought she had seen a familiar face walk inside a store. The familiar face being Cassie Howard along with her younger sister, Lexi Howard. It was rare for them to get along like this to the point where they actually did stuff together without their friend group, but it happens sometimes. (Y/N's) thoughts are interrupted by Maddy walking out.

"You ready to go?" Maddy asks.

"Yeah"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine why?"

"You just seem super out of it"

"I'm just kinda tired, Mads. Getting 3 hours of sleep and then drinking an energy drink in the morning, is not the best thing to do, it's starting to catch up with me." (Y/N) says while laughing. Both girls leave the store and get in (Y/N's) car, (Y/N) drops Maddy off at home, goes to her own house, showers, and goes to sleep.

The next morning, (Y/N) got up and got ready for school. When she walked in, she was immediately greeted by her girlfriend.

"Hey!" Maddy yelled as she ran up to (Y/N). "Hi, I got to go to class, okay? I'll see you later!" (Y/N) says. They both say their goodbyes and walk to their classes. (Y/N) was walking to class but quickly got stopped by someone calling her name.

"(Y/N), hey, can we maybe talk for a moment?" (Y/N) turns around, and sees her ex-girlfriend, Cassie Howard. "I guess so, about what?" (Y/N) ask suspiciously, she would have never expected Cassie to be talking to her right now.

"I can tell you're still in love with me, (Y/N)" Cassie says as she grabs (Y/N) by the waist and pulls her closer. "Cassie, what are you talking about, I have a girlfriend, please get your hands off of me." The younger girl says, but Cassie doesn't listen, she lifts up (Y/N's) chin with her finger. "Cassie, stop, I have a girlfriend!"

What neither of them didn't realize, is that Maddy and Lexi had seen the whole thing, Lexi had saw how (Y/N) tried pushing off her sister and wasn't enjoying it, but Maddy on the other hand, didn't realize that (Y/N) wasn't enjoying this, Maddy instead had thought (Y/N) was cheating on her.

"You fucking bitch, did you actually think you could cheat on me and fucking get away with it?!" Maddy yelled at (Y/N). "You know what, (Y/N)? You weren't the fucking shit anyways!" (Y/N) had tears streaming down her face.

"Maddy it's not like that (Y/N) wasn't-" Lexi tried to help (Y/N) out but Maddy shut her up.

"Shut the fuck up, Lexi, this doesn't fucking concern you!" Maddy yelled at the Lexi. "Why the fuck are you crying. You weren't shit (Y/N), you were fucking annoying, and you weren't even that fucking hot either. You were a shitty ass girlfriend, and I hope I never fucking see you again!" Maddy ran to the bathroom with tears in her eyes, (Y/N) fell to the floor with her knees against her chest, uncontrollably sobbing.

"Cassie, why the fuck would you do that?" Lexi yelled at her older sister as she then followed Maddy to the bathroom.

Lexi saw Maddy standing at the sinks, trying to fix her makeup that was a bit messed up since she let a few tears slip. "Maddy?" Lexi tried approaching Maddy calmly to avoid being yelled at again. "I know you don't want me to be talking to you right now, but there is something really important I thought you should know. "What is it?" Maddy says confused and partially annoyed. "(Y/N) wasn't cheating on you, Cassie grabbed her and started being all weird and flirty with her, (Y/N) was trying to push Cassie away, I just thought you should know that." Lexi said which made Maddy's face change to guilt. "Are you sure?" Maddy asked. "Just because Cassie is my sister, doesn't mean I'm always going to take her side, but just trust me, I know (Y/N). She loves you, she would've never done something like that." Lexi before walking out to check on (Y/N).

"Hey, you alright?" Lexi asked (Y/N). "I just don't understand. I mean why did she immediately assume I was doing something wrong, does she not trust me? Did she really mean all those things?" (Y/N) said through tears, Lexi wrapped her arms around her. "She didn't mean any of those things, she was just mad. She may look confident, but deep down she gets scared and insecure. Trust me, she still loves you." Lexi reassured the older girl.

Lexi sat there for a few minutes with her arms wrapped around (Y/N) until Maddy started walking in their direction. "I'll leave you two alone" Lexi walked away and went to her class.

Maddy kneeled down next to (Y/N). "Maddy, I promise I would never do any-" (Y/N) is cut off by a passionate kiss, which was surprising because she thought she was about to be killed. "I'm sorry, I may have assumed a bit too quickly that you still liked Cassie and were cheating on me with her, I just get really scared sometimes? What I said was pretty harsh, and I promise you didn't mean any of it, I was just really mad in the moment. Can you forgive me? I love you."

"I guess I can forgive you, but if anything like this happens again, just please try and ask me about it first instead of yelling, but thank you for apologizing, I love you too." (Y/N) says. "Okay I can try and do that, only for you though, but do you forgive me enough to leave this shitty place and go to my house, we can maybe watch a movie and order food?" (Y/N) smiled at this. "Yeah I do, that sounds great"

Both girls went back to Maddy's house, they both changed into something comfier and laid in Maddy's bed, their bodies intertwined with one another. They stayed like this all day and even after they fell asleep.

A/N Sorry for taking so long to write this, I have been pretty busy 😭😭. Anyways I didn't proofread this because it's 3 in the morning and I have to wake up in 4 hours. If you have any requests for any Euphoria characters, or any characters I write for in general, then lmk, requests are always open. By the way, I have a couple Sam Carpenter imagines on my Wattpad that I haven't posted on here, so if you want to check it out, my Wattpad is @n0vabug! By the way thank you so much for all the notes, I highly appreciate it!

#maddy perez x reader #maddy perez #euphoria #cassie howard x reader #jules vaughn x reader #kat hernandez x reader #lexi howard x reader #rue bennet x reader

225 notes · View notes

pensat-i-fet · 10 months

Text

Not a crush (Pedri x Reader)

**I got this request and thought it could be cute and fun. It’s true that the Spanish press has been talking about this arms situation a lot, so it’s a good blend of fiction and reality. But then it turned into one of those writing projects that changed 7 times before its final form. For a second I even thought about turning this into a series. My brain! Anyways, enjoy reading! ❤️**

ETA: I ended up writing a series based on this imagine that you can read here!

Word count: 2685

Masterlist

Wattpad

“All those years in uni to end up doing this”, you muttered. “I’m never going to be taken seriously”.

“What are you talking about?”

“This article I have to do”.

Your colleague Jordi moved his chair closer to yours to peek at your computer screen.

“You know that we can’t use the computers for personal stuff, right?”

You put your head on the table. Really, no one was going to take you seriously.

“Huh?”

“Why are you looking at photos of shirtless Pedri? Got a crush?”

“Shut up! I have to do an article about the evolution of his body in the last couple of years”.

“That’s cool”.

“It’s stupid!”

“I’ve done worse when I was an intern. Don’t be so negative”.

You guessed he was right. It could be a lot worse. And you didn’t have a crush but…there were worse ways to spend a Tuesday afternoon than looking at photos of a cute player. And being given an excuse to stare at his body, which had definitely changed in the last couple of years. You didn’t visit the gym much but liked it when others did. Especially if that was the result of their gym sessions.

Writing the article actually took a good chunk of your day. Between getting the right photos and videos for it and asking for permission to use them, the actual writing and your colleagues' stupid comments about it, it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be at first. But it was a good article. And once the editor saw it and was happy with it, it was posted on the newspaper's website.

The following day you posted a link to it on your social media accounts and a little later you started to go through the comments. So many of them talked about how you were only picked to do that article because it was about a man's body and you were a woman. Right…nothing new on Twitter.

“Stop replying to hate comments”.

“It’s therapeutical”.

"It's pointless".

Just one more…

It wasn't just the press or people on social media talking about Pedri's muscles. His teammates loved to tease him joking about that too.

"Here comes the Spanish Lewandowski", laughed Eric.

"So funny".

"Please don't be mad at me. I'm afraid you'll use those big strong muscles to punish me".

Pedri did use his muscles to push his friend and get him out of the way. He knew it was just banter but it all got boring after a few days.

"There needs to be a big signing or something so your arms stop being the topic of the week", told him Ferrán, who was looking at his phone.

“Yeah, I saw Barça posting about it on social media too. People are so overdramatic”.

“Totally, but I didn't mean that. I meant the new article”.

"What new article?"

Ferrán showed him your article and Pedri sat down to read it properly. It was a great article. You took the time to analyze the way his game could be influenced by this body change and picked different photos than the ones used by everyone else. He guessed there were still proper journalists out there. What a plot twist.

"It's a good article", he said, giving the phone back to his friend.

"The internet seems to disagree".

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know if they disagree but the girl who wrote it was getting a lot of shit on social media".

"Why?", Pedri couldn't hide his frown.

"I didn't look much into it but I saw people saying nasty things to her and then they found some old tweets and …seems like she used to have a crush on you and now she writes about your muscles or whatever and people on Twitter are the way they always are".

"Right", he murmured. He had listened to everything his friend said but also got stuck on how you used to have a crush on him. And he didn't even know who you were but footballers…they just loved being loved.

"No point in deleting them now", said Jordi.

"I wasn't going to…".

People had too much time on their hands. That was the conclusion of the day. Somehow, just because of your article, someone decided to check your entire Twitter history to see if there was anything they could accuse you of. They probably were mad to find no offensive tweets but they found two where you retweeted a Barça fan page and wrote about liking Pedri.

The funniest thing was you barely remembered those tweets. You saw him, thought he was cute and posted that. Then you moved on. There were many players you found cute but had no time for crushes. Pedri got a mention purely for the fact that he signed for your team.

But now this was being used against you. So childish.

"Are you busy next week?"

You looked up to see your boss talking to you. He never talked to you.

"I guess. I mean, I'll be here working. So…".

"Do you have a passport?"

"Yes".

"Your English was good, right?"

"Pretty good, yeah".

He only had to look at your CV to see all the qualifications you had, including all the diplomas that proved your English was more than good but…no one cared that much about an intern.

"You're going on the US tour", he said and left. How could he drop that bomb and leave?

Your jaw was on the floor and Jordi was staring at you with a similar expression.

"Wait!", you said, finally able to get up and follow your boss. "What do you mean I'm going on the US tour? There is a group of people chosen for that already. It was decided months ago".

"I know", he said casually. "But one of them can't go and you'll take his spot".

"But I'm just an intern".

"Do you not want to go?"

"I do! Of course I do!", you said quickly. "But it doesn't make sense".

"Look. You're doing really well here. And you've gotten people to visit our website more than ever with just one article so…you earned it".

You had heard about all the visits to the website after the Pedri article was posted. But the way your boss was avoiding holding eye contact told you everything you needed to know.

"Am I just going because people think I have a crush on one of the players that'll be there?"

"If you weren't a good journalist, that wouldn't be enough for me to send you with that team. But it doesn't hurt".

"Ok, I'll start packing".

This was a great opportunity and you weren't going to reject it just because of some of the reasons surrounding it. But the excitement you felt when you first heard about the trip completely vanished.

And when you checked your Instagram and saw a certain player was looking at your stories…it was even worse.

No one took you seriously but you'd prove them wrong.

The pre-season was both loved and hated by players. Pedri didn't really have strong feelings about it. It was just part of the job and they got to visit some different places so there were positives to take from these couple of weeks.

Another positive was having you around. After finding out about your article and your past crush on him, he checked your social media accounts. There wasn't much on any of them, since they were professional accounts. But there were a couple of photos of you and your dog.

Stories were something you also used to mostly promote your work and it was while checking those he found out you were going to the US too. He was hoping you'd meet at some point but didn't expect you'd be the one to interview him.

"Hi, nice to meet you", you said, extending your hand for him to shake. So professional.

"Nice meeting you too. I really liked your article about me".

Something changed in your expression and he couldn't understand what it was but you quickly got back to professional mode.

"Thank you. Let's get this done quickly. I was told we only have 15 minutes".

The interview was pretty uneventful. You asked good questions and Pedri gave you good answers in return. But you were so serious. He didn't know you personally, so maybe that was how you always were. But Pedri had a feeling there was more to it.

"Was that good?"

"The interview? Yes, thank you for your answers. They were really good".

"Easy when the questions are good too".

You nodded, quickly looking away.

"Are you ok?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because it seems like you would want to be anywhere but here".

You closed your eyes and sighed.

"Is it because of what people said about you?"

His words made you open your eyes and you finally looked at him. Instead of answering, you simply nodded.

"Don't pay attention to them".

"Easier said than done. Especially when they are the reason I'm here".

"The reason…".

"I'm not here because I'm good at my job. But because people thinking I have a crush on you got us a lot of attention. And now this interview will get more attention. So I'm basically just a pawn and I guess so are you".

"I'm sorry".

"It's not your fault".

Picking up your things, you got ready to leave but Pedri stopped you.

"I don't read what people write about me but my parents do. They like to keep the articles and print the photos and all that. Things parents do, I guess", he shrugged. "I read your article because Ferrán showed it to me and thought it was great. And then my parents told me about it, praising your writing multiple times. Your newspaper might be using you but you're good. You showed it to me in this interview too so don't feel sad".

"I don't have a crush on you".

"What?", but then he realised what you meant. "I didn't praise you because of that. God, you really need to get out of that mindset".

When Pedri started to laugh, you were more confused than ever.

"It's not you against the world. And people will praise you just because they genuinely want to…but now I'll be the one who's sad".

"Why?"

"I liked thinking you had a crush on me".

Now you were laughing too. Finally, he got to see the smile he had seen in those photos.

"Thank you for your words. I needed them. And you must go to train. I'll see you around".

"Yes".

The interview was posted just a couple of hours later. And even if Pedri's words helped, the comments you got still hurt.

Got what she wanted. To meet him.

"Yes, that's all I wanted in life. I can retire now".

"Why are you looking at your phone like it offended you?", asked one of your colleagues.

"It's the people inside it that offend me".

"Are there people living inside your phone?"

You half laughed at his bad joke.

"I know what you need to cheer up".

"Really?"

"Yes. Thoughts on karaoke?"

That made you laugh. You were such a terrible singer. "I like it. People don't like hearing me sing, though".

"I want to hear you sing so you're coming with us tonight".

One of the easiest ways to get in trouble during pre-season was to go out and wake up to paparazzi photos of the party. But when it was the coach that took you out…then it was fine?

Pedri wasn't really into parties anyways but he thought karaoke night could be fun. He wasn't planning on signing but knew which teammates would. His phone was going to record all of it to tease them in the future.

"It started already", said Xavi, who was the first one to get inside the bar.

And he was right. There was someone leaving the stage while they found their tables. And someone else took the previous person's place immediately. Pedri wasn't interested in the random people who were going to sign but still looked up to see who was talking to the guy that controlled the machine.

And it was you who was on the stage.

"Well, that's a surprise", he said, almost to himself.

"What is?", Ferrán was now looking at the stage too. "Who is she? She's hot".

"The journalist who wrote about my muscles".

"The one that doesn't have a crush on you?", he laughed. "That's funnier now that I know she's pretty".

Pedri rolled his eyes and continued staring at you. He could see you were giggling and it was such a change from the super serious woman he met for the interview.

You picked a Franz Ferdinand song. They were one of your favourite bands when you were a teen and after seeing them live at the FIB, you were back to listening to all their songs on repeat.

Oh, when I woke up tonight, I said I’m

Going to make somebody love me

I’m going to make somebody love me

And now I know, now I know, now I know

I know that it’s you

You’re lucky, lucky, you’re so lucky

Your voice wasn’t great but who cared about that on karaoke night? Pedri didn’t. He just stared at you. You looked so relaxed. Just having fun instead of the worried version of you he got for his interview.

“Whoever she chooses would be lucky. She isn’t lying”.

Ferrán’s words took Pedri out of his daydreams. “What do you mean?”

“The song”.

“I’m not really paying attention to the lyrics. What do they mean?”

His teammate explained the meaning of the lyrics quickly and Pedri had to agree. Whoever you chose would be very lucky.

“I wouldn’t mind being the chosen one but you saw her first. Shame she doesn’t have a crush on you anymore, Pedrito”.

Yeah, it was a shame.

When you finished your song, you felt so much better. This had been the right plan to improve your mood. None of your colleagues wanted a drink, so you went to the bar to get one. It was needed after all that singing.

“I didn’t know you were a singer too?”

You turned to face Pedri and snorted. “Yes, it was my plan b if journalism didn’t work out”.

“There is always autotune to help”.

Pedri was pleased to see you laughing at his words. It was the second time in just one day he had achieved that.

“Do you want a drink too?”, you asked him when the bartender was taking your order.

“Just water, please”.

Once you got your drinks, none of you moved from the bar to go back to your friends. You just kept chatting.

“I mean, who knew writing about someone’s arms could lead to so much drama”.

Pedri followed your eyes which were now staring at his biceps. “Want to touch them?”

Yes. “No”.

“After reading the article I wondered if you knew more about my body than I do, you know? So it’s ok, you can touch”.

You bit your lip, trying not to blush. "I know you hear every day about how good you are at everything and that makes you overly confident but you aren’t as great at flirting as you might think".

"I heard about how great I am from you too. So you're at fault".

"I've barely written about you apart from that article".

"Yeah, but the old tweets…".

"I told you I don’t have a crush on you”.

“And the way you’re blushing says something different”.

When he leaned closer, you noticed how your knees were touching beneath the bar. They had been touching for a couple of minutes and you hadn’t even noticed. Nor did you feel the need to move.

“Not here”, you said.

“What?”

“Not where people can see us”.

“I thought you didn’t…”.

“I just want to test a theory”.

“What theory?”, he asked, smirking at you.

“If the crush I had on you two years ago is still there”.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri x y/n #pedri x reader #pedri fluff #fotballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer x y/n #footballer fluff

339 notes · View notes

many-but-one · 1 year

Text

Hey! Why did I split over something not even THAT traumatic??

I'm here to tell you. :)

So, this particular discussion has come up in our system server before and it's actually something I've wanted to talk about for a long time on Tumblr because I've never actually seen someone talk about this, and I am being hit with a sudden god-like hubris at 3 in the morning, so here we go!

So your question was "Why did I just split? What just happened wasn't even that traumatic. I've been through so much worse in the past, I don't even feel that stressed. What the hell? Am I just making this new part up?" and on and on. The idea that only the most awful and traumatic things are what cause splits in DID (especially later in life, after the childhood trauma window of 7-9ish has ended and especially in adulthood) is actually incredibly false, and I am about to explain why.

Note: This is about traumagenic DID systems, so endogenic systems, please stay off of this post thank you. :) /not mad

Note number two: I do want to get out of the way, that all parts DO split for a reason, there's no parts that exist for no reason (even if the reason doesn't seem relevant to you now, it may have been relevant at the time of the split, OR may have been somehow relevant to your brain even if it doesn't make sense to you now.) So I want to make it really clear that splits do not occur only because of hyperfixations. There typically has to be something going on for a split to occur, and hyperfixation alone will not cut it. Alright, now that I've got that out of the way, let's talk about how DID brains run on patterns.

DID brains run on patterns, like I said. All brains do, actually, but DID brains take it to an nth degree because these patterns that it learns are what help it stay alive in a distressing and traumatic environment during childhood. Our brains are remarkably plastic and they will do whatever is necessary to survive a given situation. It's why something like DID can even exist.

So what kind of patterns do we typically see in brains with DID? Well, the easiest one is that a lot of people with DID have pretty similar alter "types" or "roles." This is just a widespread pattern that you see across a large demographic of systems. It's why terms like "gatekeeper" and "protector" and "caretaker" exist. Because nearly all DID systems have parts that fill those roles, even if those roles aren't filled in the most "traditional" sense. DID is rarely random, every part exists for an express reason, and that reason is almost always symbolic in some way, even if it doesn't seem like it now. Once you start learning trauma memories and WHY parts exist, you very quickly start to see the symbolism and sometimes it is absolutely fucking terrifying, to say the least.

What other patterns are common?

Well, patterns we see in our own system and in other systems are something quite literally called "splitting patterns" which are more common in polyfragmented systems but not exclusive to them. This has various ways of showing itself, and the user @foreverfragmented made a post awhile back that I'm having a really hard time finding, HOWEVER I did screenshot the section about splitting patterns when I first read it, attached below:

Wow that photo ended up bigger than I thought it would be. lol. Anyway. Those are another example of splitting patterns. (Note: in the original post, FF talks about how some of the terms above were coined by them or other systems, so not recognized medically, however I think they were worded perfectly which is why I shared them here.)

Another few examples include alter templates (AKA, splitting the same alter over and over in varying iterations), the same parts going out for the same types of trauma every single time, and why certain alter roles very often have the same "flavor" of personality.

For example, gatekeepers are often considered a bit cold and distant, and can be very analytically minded and rarely react purely on emotion alone. (I feel like the most common gatekeeper Myers-Briggs has gotta be INTJ...that was a joke, lmao.) This is typically for a reason. You have to have a certain mindset and a certain way of handling things to be able to properly manage a system. And this is not to say all gatekeepers are this way, but the pattern of a LOT of gatekeepers being like this is not unnoticed. Our DID specialist could tell pretty early on that our primary gatekeeper (James) was a gatekeeper long before he ever told her he was simply because of how he held himself, how he spoke about others in the system, and how much he despised her for "stepping on his toes"😂 They work together much better now, FYI, but it was rough in the beginning.

An example of alter templates in our system in particular is what we call the "Michaels." They were some of our earliest alters, and our brain was like "hey this guy is working really well, so I'm just gonna keep doing it." And it worked! Then, when trauma shifted to something completely different but in the same vein (CSA) our brain once again attempted to use this "Michael" template. It didn't work quite the same. And so our brain had to figure out these new patterns, which it was fucking desperate to do because we were going through some heinous shit that it could hardly even comprehend. I've learned that basically every blue-eyed white-haired motherfucker in here was a Michael copy at one point, but had elaborated into some other version that suited its job more.

Now, for the example that is going to actually help me explain the answer to the question posed at the very beginning of this post: alters who go out for the same things over and over.

So, depending on splitting tolerance, or whatever you happen to be going through in your childhood, you will likely have various "groups" of alters that handle certain things. If you had a particularly tumultuous childhood with several varying types of traumas, you will probably have several of these groups. And depending on length of trauma time, severity of trauma time, and levels of support during trauma time, these groups may be very large.

For example, if you had a situation like domestic violence (DV) happening in your household, you will have a part or parts dedicated just for DV, and if you also had CSA going on, you will have a separate group of parts (or a single part) who handles only the CSA. Unless your system is quite small and you have alters take multiple types of abuses, this is pretty commonly the case. [Note: want to say this is not subsystems unless these groups are highly separated via either amnesia barriers or inner world (IW) barriers, and have better communication with each other versus the rest of the system. The definition of subsystem gets a little funky, but we're not talking about that. Just wanted to make that clear. You can have groups of alters without them being subsystems.]

"Okay, so yeah, you're right. I have alter groups for [insert various traumas] what does that have to do with me splitting over [insert mundane thing that isn't even really traumatic]?"

Continuing on the "DID brains run on patterns" line of thinking, if your brain has patterns set and understood for the various traumas that you lived through in your childhood, usually up until teen years or adulthood, your brain knows what to do when those traumas occur again. The patterns are set. It's why it's super common for people with DID who experience SA in teen or adult years and don't end up having a split. Unless they have an extremely low splitting tolerance or the situation is extremely unique, the brain will just recycle what it already has. No need to go through the literally massively painful and traumatic experience of splitting again for something it already knows how to handle. This being said, the part that experiences this might end up splitting at a much later date if this trauma is far too difficult for it to handle, this is also common because sometimes it's "easy" to handle the trauma in the moment because they're used to this flavor of trauma but the processing of said trauma afterward can be just as traumatic and can cause a split.

Same if your father was super abusive to your mother, or vise versa, and you happen to have an abusive partner. That pattern is known and comfortable. That's what professionals mean by "DID systems are more likely to be victims of abuse than perpetrators." They return to the comfortable patterns, which, with DID, equals abuse. Things outside of those patterns are dangerous and confusing to navigate and the brain will avoid that at all costs.

However, and this is the answer to the question. What happens when something happens that the brain doesn't recognize in its "pattern database"? I'll give an example.

Say you were very high achieving in school. This is pretty common of systems who were diagnosed in adulthood, so far as I've seen. You likely did really well, had really high marks because your parents expected it of you or were abusive and angry if you didn't constantly constantly succeed in their eyes. This can also reflect in sports, clubs, musical talents, etc. This pattern continues on in adulthood. You push yourself very hard to be high achieving. Whether this be in a college setting, a work setting, etc. You are likely often doing well in those fields pre-system discovery, at least. Post discovery often leads to the "spiraling" phase, which sucks but again that's not what we're discussing.

So, say you have a job. You're hella good at it. You are always receiving praise, you are always getting raises, your reviews are always hella good. You're like "okay yeah, I'm good at this job, so I'm going to apply to a higher paid position in the company that just opened up."

And then...you don't get the job. Well, that sucks. Better luck next time, right?

Wrong. Well, not entirely. That's completely true. But that's not how your brain is actually processing this, is it?

You might tell yourself "oh well" but in your high achieving brain's POV, it's like "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON???? WE DON'T DO THE FAILURE STUFF!!! WHAT THE F***!!!" And it might panic, and several alters might panic, and the host might panic, and suddenly they're spiraling out of control over something that is mildly disappointing at best. Because WE DON'T HAVE A GUY FOR THIS?! We have a guy for SA, we have a guy for DV, we have a guy for medical trauma, we have a guy for bullying, etc. But we don't have a guy for REJECTION?! AHHH! [splits a part just to handle rejection.]

In adulthood, I've noticed both in myself and other systems I frequently speak to, these highly specialized parts are more commonly split in adulthood. Because while patterns are super helpful in childhood when you're experiencing the generally same shit over and over, in adulthood or even late teen years, there's so many effing unknowns that the brain is just like "what the actual fuck is this, this doesn't follow the fucking SCRIPT you guys. The PATTERNS?? Do they mean nothing to you??"

DID is a disorder that is incredibly helpful for survival in childhood and is an absolutely miserable crutch to live with in adulthood. And that's not me saying it super sucks all the time, but the disorder is not meant to happen, it shouldn't have happened, and coping with it without therapy and proper integration of parts and memories just makes adulthood kind of a hellscape, to be frank. There are tons of positives, I am so thankful, don't get me wrong. But there are a lot of downsides too.

So, to kind of drive home some examples of things that can cause a split that might not even be inherently traumatic based on my own experience and the experiences of some folks in our system server:

-(TW: mild NSFW in this one) We had our first consensual sexual experience when we were 19. We didn't have a guy for that. Everything we'd ever experienced throughout our childhood and teen years was not consensual. So when we were having consensual sex with our girlfriend, we were losing our mind because we didn't have this pattern integrated. So we split a guy whose literal only job was "consensual sex" and he was pretty much made to be the "perfect partner" for our girlfriend.

-We have a part whose only job is to play video games. We didn't know why until we realized he was fronting during stressful family gatherings and was playing videogames to pass the time until they were allowed to leave.

-We have a part that split only to handle our irrational fear of getting sick with a deadly illness right around COVID lockdown time.

-We had a part split just to internalize the feeling of "going to hell" due to our religious beliefs at the time.

-We have a lot of parts that split just to hold feelings of anger, sadness, or fear, even in adulthood. This is common in situations where anger or showing emotions was not allowed in childhood, so if the brain decides that's not allowed, when a part gets overly angry they might split a part to hold that anger, which then typically gets buried deep down.

Note about the above example: Trauma therapists often say that anger is one of the last emotions processed when processing traumatic events. Which is why "anger holding alters" are so so so fucking common. Kids and teens and adults get angry and if that's not allowed in some way shape or form, the brain will suppress it. It's also why it's common for people with DID to be able to "turn off" emotions or if triggered, will have a sudden intense burst of emotions (typically anger or frustration) because of how intensely repressed emotions often have to be just to survive living in a toxic environment that would cause something like DID. When you were a kid, you couldn't cry in front of your parents because you would be ridiculed or punished. So you will "turn it off" and go hide to cry later. But if, as an adult, you never let yourself "go cry later," that shit will build up and cause those intense emotional breakdowns, even after something that's considerably smaller scale than what you're used to. Kind of considered the "straw that broke the camel's back." You can be having a shit week with horrible thing after horrible thing and you're doing really well at "shutting it off" especially when around others, because god forbid you let the mask fall, and then suddenly you can't open a cheese stick or you can't find your keys so you might be late, or there's a stain on your shirt right before work, or the entire contents of your bag get dumped onto the floor of your car because you had to brake too hard...and that's when the breakdown happens.

Anyway, to get back on track, there are probably a plethora of other ways a system could split that seem mundane or "not that traumatizing" or alter roles might be super hyper-specific and the reasoning for that is because ✨patterns✨ We love to see it. /sar

Hope this was helpful! If you have further questions, feel free to hit up the ask box or the replies. :)

-Dori🌹

(Again, endos please don't interact, this is not for you. This is for the folks whose DID was caused via childhood trauma. These patterns likely would not exist in someone whose system didn't form from repeated traumas.)

#dorian🌹#advice #did #dissociation #dissociative identity disorder #did osdd #actually did #traumatized #actually traumatized #traumagenic did #endos dni #did alters #did therapy #did system #our brains are like supercomputers and I'm not even kidding #once it understands a pattern #it will quickly assimilate that pattern if the pattern continues to occur #DID brains are freaking incredible #also terrifying

694 notes · View notes

whattraintracks · 2 months

Text

1. Watching His Favorite Movie - every iteration I've ever seen

My headcanons based on vibes and thrown together in the middle of the night

1987 Raphael

becomes the most annoying person you’ve ever watched a movie with

ever

has seen this movie ten dozen times, can and will quote it by heart

would rather make fun of everything in said movie, witty one-liners galore

all the snacks which he chews obnoxiously and loudly

1990s Raph

as background noise to literally anything

once he saw it and decided yep this is my favorite he never sat down to watch it again

he's got things to do and ain’t nobody got time to sit down and watch a movie they’ve already seen

just has it playing while he works out or cleans his sai or does chores or whatever

but if someone tries to turn it off he will get pissed, he was paying attention thank you very much and that was the best part

TNM Raph

on his own, he either gets super into it or just passes out halfway through

with some else, he must make them understand why this is in fact the greatest movie of all time

the kinda guy that goes wait wait wait here’s the best part and gets mad when you don’t react correctly to his favorite scenes

the guys hate him for it because they’ve all seen this movie a million times

but Venus has not! and he takes full advantage of that fact

2003 Raph

is pretty thoughtful and quiet about it

mostly because he likes to pull it out when he’s having a low-energy day or just feeling nostalgic

must be doing something mindless simultaneously: knitting, eating, I don’t know, laundry?

is also super insightful about it, can and will dissect the plot

hums the soundtrack to himself for the rest of the day

2007 Raph

prefers to watch with at least one other person so he can ✨ discuss ✨

always uses closed captions

loves the IDEA of sneaking into theaters to see it but can’t stand watching it straight through

frequently pauses and rewinds, especially loves extended cuts and commentaries

will get sidetracked halfway through by video essays and online debates courtesy of Donnie

2012 Raph

his level of enjoyment is directly proportional to the amount of scoffing

even alone actually, it's not just a tough guy act

it's like when you know something is objectively awful but you unironically love it anyway

if someone misreads this as dislike or disinterest and suggests turning it off they will be threatened within an inch of their life

hates interruptions cannot stand people who talk while watching his movie and gets really frustrated when he can’t finish watching it in one sitting

Rise Raph

DO NOT GET NEAR HIM

the closest available object and/or person will become his personal teddy bear for the duration of any scene that makes him emotional

otherwise he’s reenacting the entire thing, as a one-man show or with his siblings

definitely knows it by heart and all of the trivia

particularly all the obscure actors and stunt people

M&M Raph

so loud, oh my wow, both him and whatever device he’s watching on

reacts every time like it’s the first time he’s seen it

especially loses his mind if he notices something he never has before

talks about it for hours afterwards

will subconsciously adopt all the catchphrases and verbal quirks

#march for raph #zero evidence for any of this just felt right #i had this all ready to go and i was really happy with it when i realised i FORGOT 07 #don't worry i added him once i remembered #it's always 07 raph i'm so sorry you deserve better #raphael hamato #raphael splinterson #tmnt 1987 #tmnt 1990 #the next mutation #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #mutant mayhem #tmnt #whattrainofthought

54 notes · View notes

samsno1 · 4 months

Text

Liberty or Life

Billy Butcher x Gn!POC!Reader

hello i fucking suck at titles? anyway, i wrote this at the beach while i was getting tanned because i never found a butcher fic with this exact vibe so i said "yk what, imma write ts"

ill maybe do a part 2 if i feel like it

Sumary: The reader finds something about Liberty and wants to check it out. Butcher thinks it's just too easy to be true.

Warnings: SPOILERS THE BOYS S2, english isn't my first language, kinda mean butcher but he means it well, poc!reader (wrote it with latinos in mind but i didn't mention us especifically so dig in), use of y/n, HURT/COMFORT, blood, violence, gore (?), cursing (i mean its the boys), hom*lander mentioned (yes he gets a fucking warning), i didn't make the reader speak neither spanish nor portuguese, up to ya, i had no idea how to transcribe his british accent but i did my best. NOT PROOF READ

WC: 3.3k

You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here

if you enjoy it please lmk!

Of course it was a trap. A fucking trap.

While confined in your apartment, searching more and more about Stormfront - AKA Liberty - after the encounter with the poor woman that ended up losing her brother to her hands right in front of her eyes you found a clue, something that could help take her down.

According to the document you spent the whole night reading with several cups of coffee and a killing migraine, there was a file hidden in a building close to Vought's that gave away all the racist behavior of Liberty's past (and present). It would be more than enough to make the people mad.

Hell, it made you mad. An immigrant trying to bring down an incredibly popular Supe, who would definetly get rid of any of your people out of North American territory? Definitely a perfect situation for your ass, not dangerous at all.

But still, if not you and The Boys, who? Even if Butcher's focus wasn't her it was for you, as a personal offense.

You knew racism wasn't foreign in the Superhero industry (or in the United States as a whole, you lived it constantly) but executing people of color is borderline a genocide and it was happening right under the peoples noses. God, praised even.

You scoffed at the screen of your computer and picked up your phone to call either Butcher or MM about what you found, to see if they could back you up on the mission.

You dialed Butcher first, putting your cell to your ear as you got up from the chair, your legs needing a stretch, as you walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to get a beer. It is 6pm somewhere you thought.

As you popped open the can the familiar british accent hit your ears and you subconsciously smiled to yourself.

“Wha’ d'ya want, luv?” He asked, voice gruff, clearly woken up by your call. You imagined his tousled hair. Maybe he was shirtless.

“Did I wake you?” You asked, taking a sip of the bitter drink on your hand, the alcohol much appreciated in your stomach.

“Maybe” He said and you could hear the teasing smile on his face.

“I'm sorry, I just called to say I found something on Liberty…Stormfront…whatever her fucking name is” You clarified as you mindlessly play with the seal of the beer can with your index finger “There's a building nearby that hides some documents about her, y'know, the shady stuff. I wanted to go there tonight, see if I find it”

You hear shuffling in the other line with a grunt, assuming he was getting up from the bed – or wherever he was sleeping.

He didn't speak for some moments letting you hear his bare feet walking around his apartment.

“I don’ know abou’ it Y/N, how'd ya even find those?” He asked, his voice hesitant.

“Butcher, I'm a hacker and Vought's system sucks ass compared to what I've already done” You explained “I just got in, easy”

You can't see it but he bites his bottom lip on the other line. He was still skeptical, would it really be that easy to find stuff on a Supe like Liberty? He knew your abilities, hell, he admired it but he was always extra careful when it came to you.

“Really?” He asked and you could feel the way his eyebrow raised and you scoffed “Okay, I'm jus’ doubtful, Liberty hasn’ been talked abou’ in ages an’ ya find stuff…easy?”

“What, lost faith in my abilities?” You teased. You finished your beer and threw the can in the thrash, it hitting the bottom of the thrash with a loud thud “C'mon, it will be easy. In and out”

“I'm not sure it's a good idea, luv” He said and you frowned, sitting on your island in the kitchen, your feet dangling off the edge.

“Y'know I called to warn you I was going, not to ask permission, you ain't my father” You mumbled with the intention to let him hear it, the tone in your voice serious “Just wanted to know if you wanted to come with”

“Nah” He replied, his voice loud and clear over the phone and you make a shocked confused face to yourself. Did he not want to keep you company? “Ya ain't going, it's risky. It looks too easy. Nothin’ with these cunts’ easy” He said firmly and you scoffed in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah, I am, alone or with you, I'm busting into that building” You said just as firmly as he did “You know how I feel about that racist cunt” You cursed. The more time you spent with Butcher, the more you started using his British vocabulary. Cunt was the most common but Bullocks also came with from time to time.

“Of course I know but still, we have to be smart abou’ it” A tip of anger laced his voice. He often got pissed at how stubborn you could be and this was one of those times.

“I'll be in there tonight. Goodbye Butcher” You said and turned off the call, not wanting to hear him going on and on about your ‘recklessness’ as he called it, scoffing and smashing your phone down on the island beside you, running a hand through your head.

You liked when Butcher was caring towards you, it was what made you start catching feelings for the man in the first place, but sometimes he just treated you like a kid, as if you could do nothing without him lecturing you beforehand.

On the other side, Butcher groans angrily as he notices you turned the call off and he throws his phone on the bed. “Fucking ‘ell” He curses to himself as he rubs his temples with his thumb and index fingers.

He knew you wouldn't drop it. You were a force of nature, but impulsive. Sometimes he loved it, sometimes he hated it.

This was time he wished you just listened.

The feeling in his gut that something wasn't right remained for the whole day, his head barely able to focus on anything else as he was too worried. Worried about you.

At about 8pm he was nervously biting on the side of his thumbnail trying to ignore his phone besides him as he told himself over and over he should call you to see if you were fine. The other (minor) side of him telling himself he should drop it. You were strong, you could pull it off and he didn't want to bruise his ego giving in to your stupid idea.

Fuck it.

He checked his phone to see a message from you. The address to said building. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Maybe you weren't so stupid after all.

He grabbed his keys and put on his black trench coat and a gun in the waistband of his jeans.

As he closed the door behind him he rushed to his car, wondering if you were okay or if something happened.

At the thought of you hurt he hurried his feet on the pavement to get faster to his car. To get faster to you.

He drove above the speed limit after he tried calling you 3 times, all going to voicemail. He cursed to himself as he arrived at the building and took in the sight in front of him.

The windows were busted and, as he got in, he could clearly see bullet holes on the walls and his heart started beating faster in his chest. Please be okay, please be alive, I can't lose you too.

He moves through crumbles and remains of the walls, taking his gun in his hand and moving slowly, aware of any danger.

The more he walked without any sight of you, the more worried he got.

As he went down the stairs to the basement he heard a low groan and his eyes widened and his whole body turned towards the noise.

The basement was a complete wreck. Shelves down on the ground, glass and books everywhere.

Then he saw you and his heart sank to his stomach. You were sitting down against the wall, a huge stab wound in your side where your hand was trying to keep pressure, which clearly wasn't enough as he took sight of the amount of blood beneath you and in your hands.

He took a quick look around and rushed to you, kneeling in front of you. He took notice of how pale you looked but still, at least, half conscious.

He held your shoulder with one hand and pressed the other over your wound making you wince in pain. His face was serious, angry. He didn't know if it was at you or at whoever did this to you but he was livid.

“What the fuck did ya do?” He asked through gritted teeth, not expecting an answer but you put your hand over his forearm, the blood staining his coat and smiled. You fucking smiled, that beatiful smile that could make Butcher melt from miles away.

“You came” You said, your voice low and hoarse and then you went into a coughing fit and Butcher held you to his chest.

“Easy, easy Kid” He said as he took a deep breath so as to not get emotional. He took your hand and pressed it over the bloody wound “I'm gonna need ya to keep pressure in this while I get ya out, c'mon”

You nodded weakly and pressed it as hard as you could while his other arm wrapped below your knees and lifted you up, the movement making you hiss.

He carried you out as quickly as possible as he placed you in the backseat of his car as he went to the driver's, turning the vehicle on and sprinting back to his place.

At the feeling of being safe, the adrenaline started wearing down and you were suddenly very tired. Your eyes closed as you felt your consciousness slip away and then you didn't feel anything anymore.

When you woke up again you were laying on a bed that wasn't yours, in a room that wasn't yours. Your head was pounding and breathing hurt and you let out a groan.

As your vision focused, you looked around and took in the place until your eyes caught a glimpse at someone on a chair besides you. Sleeping, with his arms crossed over his chest, was Butcher and you started remembering what happened.

You mindlessly put your hand over the neatly done bandaging in your stomach and looked at Butcher again.

“Butcher” You said, your voice low and weak. The man besides you stirs awake, his eyes opening slowly.

As he notices you're awake he gets up and places a hand on your forehead hurriedly, breathing deeply as if it was a relief seeing your eyes staring back at him.

“You're awake” He said, looking between your eyes.

As you looked back up at him guilt started pooling in your heart and you looked away, you smiled sadly.

“You were right” You mumbled and he pulled his hand away from your face and sighed angrily. He brushed a hand trough his face, his nostrils flaring up.

He didn't say anything, just stared at your bandaged wound, lost in thought, so you continued talking.

“They jumped me, some people that worked for Vought. I knocked some down but one of them caught me. Thay ran away after that, leaving me to die, apparently” You explained, still refusing to look at him “I'm sorry.”

At that, he looked at you again and you looked at him. He was angry and sad, his face gave it all away and you felt small under his stare. Maybe because you were laying down but still, you felt helpless.

“Why didn't ya fuckin’ listen to me” He said, his voice low, apparently calm and that was the most scary of it all. You preferred that he yelled at you, screamed in anger and never looked at you again then to act like this.

“You– I fuckin’ told ya” He said squinting his eyes as a hand goes to nudge at the wound and you grunt as he aplies pressure to it “Look at where your stupidity gotcha”

Tears prickle at the corner of your closed eyes as you grab at his wrist to pull it away from your skin, your own hand covering the bandage protectively as you glare at him. You knew you fucked up but what was going on with him?

“What the fuck Butcher!” You exclaim through your teeth as the pain eases away “I know I should've listened to you, I already said I'm sorry!”

“Sorry don’ cut it!” He finally yells at you, making you shrink as he points a finger at your face. “When I arrived the color on your face was gone! You were basically dead as I carried ya out! There was blood everywhere, Y/N”

He turned his back to you, and sighed loudly. If it was possible, smoke would be coming out of his ears.

You felt your eyes water. He seemed more than angry and you hated that you were the reason that he felt like this.

“How long was I out?” You asked lowly as you forced yourself to sit with your back against the headboard, making a face at the sting in your belly.

“About 52 hours” He replies, his back still turned to you and your eyes widen in shock and look at his back.

His head was down and his hands were both on his own waist.

You nodded even if he couldn't see you, more so to acknowledge it to yourself. As you let the information sink in, Butcher leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

He couldn't let you see the tears forming in his eyes as all his thoughts went back to your limp body on his arms and the hours he spent beside the bed, holding your hand and talking to you while you were in your coma. He wanted to hug you, hold you and he couldn't bear the idea of losing you. Not when he hadn't told you anything about what he wanted from you.

How everytime you looked at him with those bright eyes he felt like he could drown in them, how your smile was the reason he got out of bed every morning, how your voice was like a beautiful tune that was hypnotizing. How your lips always provoked his deepest desires to emerge.

Seeing you bleeding broke him apart further then it should've and that scared him. He had sworn to never care for someone this much since the last time he felt this his heart got torn to pieces by Becca.

He shouldn't. He couldn't.

But he also couldn't help that every time you touched him he felt his skin warm up and his heart accelerate.

He pressed his forehead to the shut door and mentally cursed himself over and over again, he didn't know what to do until he saw the handle turn and the door slowly open.

You opened the door, a hand on your waist to ease the pain as you looked at him teary eyed.

He made a confused face with slight worry but then you choked out a sob and threw both of your arms around his neck and started to cry against his shoulder.

Butcher was shocked until his arms eased themselves around your lower back. One hand rubbed up and down as he felt your tears wet his shirt.

“I was– so scared” You admitted, shaking with your sobs and gripping his shirt tightly under your fingers to make sure he wasn't going anywhere. “It was so cold. The only thing that kept me breathing was when…when I looked at my phone and you– you were calling” You sobbed harder after each word, your body trembling.

“When you left voicemails…I was happy because if I…” You swallowed “If I died I would at least hear your voice one last time”

His grip around you tightened and one of his hands went into your hair as he adjusted your head into his chest, his jaw above you as he closed his eyes. He felt a tingle in his heart at your words, a spark of love lighting itself up in bad weather.

“Shh, you're fine now, you're ‘ere, alive, I'm 'ere” He whispered comfortably as you kept crying and he thought of all the things he wanted to tell you.

“And I know I was stupid. That I– That I should've listened but I want her dead, I want Homelander dead and I just–” You choked “I just wanted to have control over something, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry”

He gently swayed both your bodies side to side, a comforting hand rubbing at your scalp. Butcher didn't say anything, just letting you get it all out until your breathing calmed down.

The tears had stopped flowing and now you were just sniffing, your cheeks puffy and your eyes red. He grabbed both sides of your face and pulled you back to look into your eyes, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Feel betta’?” He asked and you nodded slightly and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking into your beautiful orbs again. “I'm sorry too, luv, I really am”

You opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you before you could speak.

“I shouldn’ have said those things t'ya, I was just– Angry, but not at you” He gently brushed his thumb over your cheek, drying a stubborn tear rolling down your face. “I was angry at myself”

Apparently you made a face at him because he gave you a thin-lipped smile.

“I was angry because I knew you were going anyway an’ I let'ya go alone. If I was there, this wouldn’ have happened”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I was scared that I'd neva see ya smile again, see your beautiful eyes look into mine, hear your stunnin' voice” He hugged you again, his hands wrapping you in a warm embrace. He didn't want to let you go in fear this was a dream and he buried his face in the crook of your neck before finishing.

“I was scared I would neva be able to tell ya tha’ I love ya” He mumbles in your neck as his arms tighten around you and a shiver runs through you.

William Butcher loved you.

Your hands grabbed at his shoulders and pushed him back lightly as you looked into his eyes.

Your expression doesn’t give anything away and Butcher starts to feel sick as he thinks he's going to be rejected. He prepares for impact.

Then you smile.

Your smile wide because you feel warm. Warmed by his love. Diferently then the cold night at the building.

Your hands travel up to both sides of his face as you pull him in. You go slowly, waiting to see if he'd pull back but he surprises you with a strong, passionate kiss, making you gasp in surprise.

The world feels small around you as his hands grab at your waist, careful not to hurt you as you pour out every feeling you bottled up through the years in that kiss.

And Butcher was consumed by you, by every single inch of you, by every part of your being. Your voice was a melodic chorus to his ears, your lips a river to which he was drowning in, your body the perfect fit for his.

When you pull away from each other with rushed breaths you're still smiling, your hand caressing his beard covered cheek.

“I love you too” You whisper and Butcher smashes his lips against yours again, making you giggle in surprise.

Now that they had each other it was them against the world. Nothing could tear them apart because they were made for one another, the flames of their souls dancing together in a single rhythm.

They didn't know or didn't feel it but ever since the first time they had locked eyes the destiny made their paths merge into a single one at one point in both their lives. And this was it. Two souls bound, forever.

☆

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you very much for reading. Xoxo

#the boys imagine #the boys x reader #the boys x y/n #the boys x you #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #william butcher #william butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher smut #the boys

68 notes · View notes