#something to do with jackson universe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelsgreys · 3 months

Text

softness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born.

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales.

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate.

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #tw premature birth

2K notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 4 months

Text

AU of my Gotham/Tim Drake! Danny where Danny doesn’t know any knowledge beforehand about the DC universe.

Danny doesn’t know how he got here, but the fact that he now shares something in common with Vlad other than their technical halfa status disgusts him

His new name is Timothy Jackson Drake. It’s so far removed from Danny that his parents had him examined for deafness because he didn’t respond to it. He got better at it, at putting on the mask Janet and Jack Drake wanted to see. So they took him to the circus.

He meets Dick Grayson. Danny thinks the kid is adorable, even if Danny himself is technically younger. He sees the flying Graysons fall. The buzzing in his head doesn’t go away.

He’s five, when the fading spirit of Gotham reaches out and pleads her King to protect her city in her stead. She is fading. He says yes, because she’s one of his. The buzzing in his head settles and oh because that’s what’s been missing this entire time. Danny didn’t have a haunt and Gotham gave him one.

He grieves when she dies, the new title settling around small shoulders, and the city grieves with him. In the city proper, Batman and Robin are having the worst night of their lives in the sudden storm.

He’s nine. Robin is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, in turn, is an idiot. Batman… well, he’s at least mentoring and protecting the child vigilante, which is more than Danny ever had. He grows fond of them. How could he not, when they tried their hardest to help his city? To help him?

He shows himself, to the duo, in his Phantom form. It’s still him, still modeled after Danny Fenton’s face instead of Tim Drake’s. Ghosts are a reflection of the soul, after all.

“Who are you,” Batman demands, shielding Robin with half a step.

“Gotham.” He replies. Danny wills the city to affirm his claim and the city wraps its arms around the vigilantes. Batman and Robin understands, a deep well of pure knowledge being tapped into in ways they weren’t truly meant to understand.

“…How?”

“Magic,” Phantom says, dry. He tells them of city spirits, and that they can call him in times of dire need.

Dick calls him to help with Two Face. Two Face learns the pain of unmelting ice to the balls.

His core aches when the Bats fight, but Danny knows now that it is inevitable. They’re part of his haunt, his ‘fraid. He knows these things far before they come into fruition.

Dick moves to a sister city. Phantom expands his haunt to Bludhaven because he doesn’t, won’t, ever leave his Robins to themselves.

Nightwing is hopeful, is pleasantly surprised, and very suspicious when he shows up during patrol.

“Gotham…? What are you doing here…? This isn’t, well, Gotham?”

“Satellite City. It is an extension of myself. You were Robin, yes. You’re Nightwing, now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you when I can.”

Phantom goes back, and finds a kid trying to steal tires to make a living. He guides his Knight to him. The starved features, the bones Danny could see, it tugs at his core. It feels like the Ancient of Fate themselves were pulling him along.

“How’d you know I was taking the wheels?”

“Gotham.”

“Are you… high on shrooms or something?”

Bruce sighs. Batman asks Gotham to meet the new Robin, and chuckles when Jason is surprised by the glowing green figure.

Phantom hides this Robin just as much as the last one. He curls shadows around his vigilantes, sometimes at the same time, and softens what little sounds they made while stalking through his city for crime.

He makes small jokes with Jason. Danny forgets, a little, the crushing loneliness of being Timothy Drake.

“I didn’t kill Garzona!”

“You-”

Batman stops as a chill he’s never had experienced directed at him weaves around his neck. An angry Gotham.

“He didn’t kill him.” Danny slides a cold hand on Jason’s shoulders.

But the damage had been done and the next day, Batman is begging Danny to tell him any clues of where Jason had gone.

“Ethiopia.”

He clears the way for Batman to get to Robin. He clears the way for Bruce to get to Jason.

He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Batman would handle everything when in the end, he’s just a man in a mantle that demands more than he ever thought he’d have to pay.

Robin is dead and Danny grieves. The skies crack open and pours a torrent of smogged rain water upon the streets of Gotham. Despite that, Crime Alley is untouched by flood. They say the second Robin was protecting his home.

In a way, it’s not wrong.

Gotham fishes Batman from the bay, carelessly tossing the broken Joker against a shipping container.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’ll die.”

Bruce, Batman, lays on his back, eyes glazed and empty. “Maybe I want to.” He admits. And Danny can’t lose someone else. It’s already bad enough he feels the death of everyone in his city, he can’t lose him too. But Dick won’t come back. He already denied Gotham when Phantom had asked him to come back. Granted, Dick was nervous about denying him the entire time, but Danny realized that he’d lost a brother in the colors his parents chose for Dick. Danny- Phantom had cradled Dick in a swaddle of shadows and comfort.

“Alright.”

“Is it? Alright? I- I don’t want to fail you, Gotham.”

“It is. You’ve always made me proud. You will always make me proud. Whether it be by different name, it matters to me not. Stay. Heal.”

Like Dick was given permission, like he received a hint of peace, Dick Grayson crumpled to the floor and sobbed into Gotham’s shoulder.

(Later, long after Dick Grayson realized his little brother was also his city personified, he cries again into Tim’s shoulders after the later dropped a flower pot perfectly on top of Catalina Flores’ head.)

Gotham, Phantom, Danny makes a choice.

“Tomorrow, a child will show up at your door. You will let him in.”

“No- I can’t. I won’t.” He knows what Danny will ask of him.

“You will.” Danny doesn’t ever do it with his people, with his city, but dire times call for dire actions. It is an order. And Batman is Gotham’s knight. “You will. You will train him. You need a Robin to leash your brutality. I need a Robin, for Robin is my hope. The city’s hope. Our people’s hope. Do not forget the goal you have set out to accomplish in my city.”

Batman rages at him, until he falls unconscious from the wounds he’s gathered. Danny brings him home. He tells Alfred what to expect tomorrow. Bruce wakes up, eyes fixated on the crack that appeared on Danny’s neon green face. “Did. Did I do that?”

Danny nods slowly.

Batman crumples into Bruce Wayne. “Okay.” He says. “Alright. Tomorrow.”

Gotham watches him, unreadable. “Tomorrow.” He says, before fading away.

Tim Drake shows up at the door. Nightwing shows up not long after. Tim Drake adapts to Bruce Wayne’s cold looks and brutal training. Slowly, but surely, he leashes in Batman’s grief fueled brutality and less criminals go to prison with half of their lives beaten out of them.

Batman doesn’t see Gotham as much anymore. He feared that he’s angered his city, that he is no longer welcome.

When Tim figures it out… he allows the roads and the shadows to help Batman once more.

Batman stared intently at the extra coverage. “Thank you,” Tim hears him whisper. “I’m sorry.”

And when Jason Todd comes back to life and attacks Tim in the tower, Tim lets Hood beat him. Gotham had failed him, as Jason’s city. He deserves it. (He doesn’t but Danny had gone past the point of being healthy about his own physical wellbeing. Perhaps being a city spirit this long had affected him, even with the King’s title mitigating the worst of the damages.

“HE REPLACED ME!”

“Because I ordered him to.” Tim whispers, past the pain of a broken leg.

“You? Order Batman around? If you��re going to lie, make it a better one, Replacement.”

Tim catches Jason’s wrist, the one holding the knife to Tim’s throat.

“Robin,” he says simply, allowing Gotham to come out and peer at the child that is his.

Jason stares, disbelieving. Gotham had… Gotham had come by and approved of his plans to clean up Crime Alley. Gotham had extracted a promise not to damage the buildings.

“No.”

His city stares back and him and Jason stumbles away. Tim shifts into Danny, into Gotham.

“You…”

“I am Gotham. I- I did not want to wear these colors. They were yours and Dick’s. But Bruce was hurting the city, he was hurting me. So I made sure he stopped.”

Jason stares at the new cracks, the fresh ones he just caused and the old ones he does not remember being on Danny’s ghostly skin.

Jason swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“As am I. I am sorry I was not there to save you. I am sorry that you died.”

Jason stares at him. The Replacement is Gotham. Jason almost destroyed his city.

“I am glad that you’ve returned. That you’re alive, now.”

“…Really?”

“Always.”

Alternative Version of the above Tower Scene:

Jason slides the knife against the Replacement’s neck.

Danny sighs. “I can’t believe I’m dying again.”

Jason pauses. “What the fuck did you just say, Replacement?”

Danny rolls his eyes at him and Jason rethinks his decision of not offing the little fucker right away.

“You think you’re the first one to die in this household? Get a grip. I did it first, way before you did, jackass.”

Tim is 14. He’s a child. What the fuck is Jason doing?

“When…?”

“How do you think I became Gotham, little bird?”

Jason freezes. And then he’s scrambling backwards, the knife flung away in his horror.

Tim shifts into Gotham and Jason bites back a cut of regret and bitterness.

He… no, what? What even is happening?

“Why is the Joker not dead? You… you told me that you loved me. That Gotham… that-”

“I’m cruel, little bird. The Joker would not suffer as much if he were dead.”

“He’s killing people! He’s killing your own!”

“So everyone thinks.”

“What?”

“I am Gotham, little bird. Mass hallucinogenic gasses are so within my reach to the point it is concerning. Perhaps you should help Ivy with the city clean up?”

“Huh?!”

1K notes · View notes

strangestcase · 5 months

Text

tomblr discourse in the monster high universe must be something else.

0 notes

💝 lalalala Follow

What would I do without cherry smoothies... probably die again 💔

🟥 b3lfrypr3pz-deactivated09182022

Of freaking course the frilly daywalker is a vegan 😒 bet you do witchcraft too you dirty hippie

💝 lalalala Follow

🝢🜊🝣🝗🜚🝰

🟥 b3lfrypr3pz-deactivated09182022

WTF is that lol

🟥 b3lfrypr3pz-deactivated09182022

i t burns. wh at did you do to me .

💝 lalalala Follow

^-^

17k notes

🧠 msdeadfast Follow

Ok but Dead Fast: Night of the Living (2002) has no business being considered the worst Dead Fast movie when the MCU (Murder Cinematic Universe) not only retconned his origin story to make him a virus zombie rather than a curse zombie (which throws off his entire arc about being something more than his deeds!) AND made him be allied with B.L.I.G.H.T. of all organizations because Like say what you will about NOTL and the forced heterosexual romantic plot but at least 1) it gets what makes Dead Fast a hero and 2) GIVES HIS LOVE INTEREST A PERSONALITY AND SOMETHING TO DO

🕷️ 8legscomix Follow

Literally

Also they made the villain Dr. Igorable's motivations so laughable like..... so his wife got turned into a zombie and he wants to cure her? Ok? Did she ask for it? She doesn't even have any groaning lines. Im not even a zombie but that was offensive as hell. Like in the original comics he wants to straight up undo all forms of zombism forever

🧠 msdeadfast Follow

NO FR LIKE....... so suddenly the eugenics obsessed human is tragic because being a zombie must be such a tragedy you guyyyysssss -_- and wanting to get rid of an entire monster type is ok. I swear that movie has turned monster attitudes towards zombies back into the 80s

⚠️ mentalhealth-hazard Follow

I am not sure if I'm overstepping here but, furthermore, the addition of Pendulum to the movie was unnecesary. Stereotyping shapeshifters as untrustworthy and traitorous is something of a past era. Either leave the character behind, or change it entirely.

🧠 msdeadfast Follow

Jackson I love you and I love your takes. but you type like a Victorian in his deathbed ;-;

⚠️ mentalhealth-hazard Follow

The MCU is so dreadful, it's irrevocably turned me into one.

#It has also substracted years off my lives.

23 notes

🌊 lacriatura Follow

🦈🦐🐠🪸🐡🐟

^ aquarium!

#lagoona's originals #ocean #sealife #ah-! so refreshing <- aesth tag

26k notes

🔥 666firepit666 Follow

Not to vague anyone but some of you have to shut the freak up about the ocean. You don't see me making little dioramas of the Malebolge because I'm not a little cringelet like you lmao

1 note

🌊 lacriatura Follow

If you don't freaking love the ocean don't follow the ocean tag. Yes that goes for @666firepit666, square up and fight me if you're so brave Heath!!!!

#lagoona's originals #personal #more skulls for my skull collection!!!

10 notes

🌙 wolf-in-chic-clothing Follow

Day 1 no toxic doomed yuri

🌙 wolf-in-chic-clothing Follow

WRONG SIDEBLOG

#stop reblogging this

80k notes

🔩 stitchez Follow

Got a new arm! Can't wait to try it out!

🐯 ninelives Follow

try it out how 🤨

🔩 stitchez Follow

Building a wretched creature out of corpses, of course!

🔩 stitchez Follow

OH that was a double entendre! You should be ashamed of yourself!

🔩 stitchez Follow

I would never use my arms for violent purposes!

54 notes

🔥 666firepit666 Follow

Lagoona dragged me into the pool and now my hair is out 😡

🌙 wolf-in-chic-clothing Follow

Skull issue.

🧠 msdeadfast Follow

skull issue

👻 ghostlygossip01 Follow

Skull issue. Take the L

💝 lalalala Follow

Skull issue ^-^

🐯 ninelives Follow

skull issue lmao

🔩 stitchez Follow

Skull issue! I dont know what that means but I'm sure it relates to your experience!

🎸 innerdemon Follow

SKULL ISSUEEEEEEEEE !!!!!!!

🔥 666firepit666 Follow

Your own cousin 🥲

🎸 innerdemon Follow

I AM NOT RELATED TO ANY BALD PEOPLE

105 notes

💎 scarab-g1rl Follow

Alright, who stole my sinister amulet?

#monster high #mh #fakeposting #unreality #fake posts

2K notes · View notes

asapjens · 3 months

Text

UNEXPECTED KISSES

PJO: perseus jackson x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: it was like the universe had a thing against you & percy locking lips.

CATEGORY: fluff & short

WORD COUNT: 226

Percy Jackson had been dating this amazing demigod who'd joined Camp Half-Blood not too long ago. And not long ago they'd been trying to share their first kiss for what felt like ages, but every time they got close, some campers or monsters would show up and ruin the moment.

It was like the universe had a thing against them locking lips.

Then, one day, Percy was stressing out big time because he had this quest coming up. He was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, and the poor guy was a nervous as heck.

You, being the awesome demigod you were, had had enough of the interruptions and Percy's stress.

So, you did something kind of unexpected – you grabbed Percy by his belt and planted a big kiss right on his lips.

Percy's face turned redder than a tomato, and he was all like, "Uhh, thanks?" Smooth move, Percy. Real smooth.

But you know what? It worked! The stress just melted away. “Feel better?” you asked, raising your eyebrow teasingly at your boyfriend.

Percy was like. “Can you do that again?” And off they went, kissing their way to victory – well, not really, but you get the idea.

1K notes · View notes

seattlesellie · 11 months

Text

don’t cross the line

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol

Parties in Jackson fucking suck.

It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.

“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”

Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.

You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.

“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.

“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”

Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.

Ellie.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.

So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-

“Hey”

You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.

“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”

She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”

Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.

“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.

Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.

Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.

“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.

“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.

One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.

“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.

You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.

“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.

“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”

Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.

You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.

“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.

It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?

“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.

“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?

“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?

“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.

“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.

Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.

“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.

Ellie scoffed.

“Yeah”

You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.

Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.

“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”

“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.

“Let me walk you” she blurted.

What?

“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.

She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?

“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.

“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.

“No” she exclaimed.

“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”

“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?

“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”

“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.

Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.

She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.

Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.

“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?

“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.

“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.

Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.

“You are”

Step

“So fucking annoying”

This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.

The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.

You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.

You turned around to face her.

Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.

You took a deep breath. She looked cold.

“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.

“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.

“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.

“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.

“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

“Come inside”

"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.

The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.

You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.

Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.

"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.

“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.

“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.

"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”

Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.

“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.

“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.

“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.

She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.

“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.

“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.

“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.

“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.

Oh, did that sentence burn through you.

“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.

“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.

You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.

“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.

“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.

Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.

That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.

“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?

You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

She took a deep breath.

“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”

The room fell quiet.

“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.

“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.

“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.

“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.

“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.

“Please” you begged.

That’s all it took.

Almost.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.

“Please” you begged.

Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.

“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.

Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.

Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.

“You dont know…” she whispered.

You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.

“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.

Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.

Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.

She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.

“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.

She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.

“Shit” she huffed.

And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.

Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.

Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.

The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.

your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.

It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.

If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.

Her body gave up on her, too.

She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.

“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.

You wiped your tears.

“I can’t” you whispered.

“Please” she begged.

You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.

“I think about you all the time” you blurted.

She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.

“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.

What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.

You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.

Ellie swallowed deeply.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.

“I need you” you whimpered.

She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.

“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.

“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.

Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.

She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.

You cupped your breast.

Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.

“Holy shit” she wheezed.

“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.

Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.

The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.

Then, you took your shirt off.

And Cat was gone.

Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.

The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.

You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.

The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.

“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.

You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.

Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”

She didn’t need to pretend now.

“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.

You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.

“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.

“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.

“Do it” she commanded.

“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.

The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.

You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.

“Feels so good” you whined.

“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.

“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.

Ellie almost went cross eyed.

“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.

“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.

“Show me how bad - shit”

You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.

You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.

“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.

In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?

“Spread” She commanded.

You looked at her stupidity.

“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.

You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.

“Fucking shit” she grunted.

Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.

“Wider” She commanded.

You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.

“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.

“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.

“Show me that fucking pussy”

You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.

“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.

“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.

“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.

“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.

“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.

With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.

Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.

Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.

You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.

Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.

She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.

You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.

“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.

“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.

You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.

It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.

“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.

Her fucking ex best friend.

“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.

“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”

“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.

The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.

“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.

“Please fuck me, please fuck me”

“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.

“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.

“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”

Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.

When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.

This wasn’t just wrong.

This was vile.

She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.

When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;

“I’m so sorry”

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #the last of us #ellie williams x you #wlw #lesbian #ellie smut #ellie williams angst

2K notes · View notes

fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 months

Note

💬 I’d love to put Pin and Joel in a compromising position (as innocent or as spicy as you like) where someone walks in on them. Specifically either Ellie or Tommy. Someone that will make Joel burn bright red with embarrassment as they rib him mercilessly. And even though Pin would normally be mortified seeing Joel squirm is so endearing and hilarious for her.

(P.S. huge fan girl of your writing ♥️)

Rookie Mistake

Seams sleepover micro drabble request | 590 words | warnings: rated a very light E, making out and touching in a semi-public place | can be read independently of the series but is part of the Seams universe

This is an extension of Hallow'seams, following immediately from the end of that drabble. I recommend a re-read it before diving into this one!

Joel knows it’s a rookie mistake. It’s embarrassing, really.

But when it comes down to it, it’s your fault. All the blood from his head rushes south once he spots that little costume of yours, until the only thought left is to hold you to your invitation.

‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'

He never thought much of the toolbelt, a hand-me-down he picked up at the local shop in his first weeks in Jackson.

But on you, it’s something else. Gripping the well-worn leather, he manhandles you across the small space of the bathroom to press you against a waist-high cupboard, and you take the smack on your ass as a cue to hop onto the surface with a grin.

And with that, he’s fucking throbbing for you, straining against the cheap, fake leather gladiator skirt. He knows not much can happen here, but the sound of the party just outside the flimsy door lends an excitement that makes his breath ragged.

Tipping you back so that you’re leaning against the wall, he pushes your legs apart to stand in between them. He pulls roughly on the toolbelt, prompting a gasp from you when he jolts your hips into his, rasping, ‘How am I supposed to look at that from now on, huh?’

‘Let’s just hope Tommy doesn’t borrow it,’ you sass back.

He growls at your retort, as if he can get any harder than he already is. ‘I got half a mind to tell you what to do with that smart mouth, sweetheart -’

Grabbing the scruff of his cape, you pull him in for a hard kiss, the boldness coaxing a deep groan out of him as he presses into you, big hands palming your ass and pulling you flush against him, hips rolling, rubbing his clothed cock between your thighs, chasing friction through the layers -

‘Holy shit!’

It takes Joel a second to pull back from you, the beer in his system rendering him slow to respond to the sudden interruption. But still, his first instinct is to shield you from whoever it was that showed up at the door.

That whoever turns out to be his little brother, in a baker’s costume (Maria is the oven with the bun, get it?), with a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning on the doorframe like the cat with the cream.

‘Get the fuck out of here, Tommy!’

‘I don’t know about that, big brother. Looks like you need me to rescue you from the big bad contractor trying to get under your skirt,’ he grins and waves at you over Joel’s shoulder. ‘Hey, Pin!’

Going beet red, fists clenching, Joel spits out, ‘Goddamnit, I mean it, fuck off Tommy!’

‘I wish I could, but Maria needs to pee. You know how pregnant women are.’

Breathing a frustrated breath through the nose, he grunts. ‘Fine. We’ll be right out.’

The door closes with a thud, and with an embarrassed groan, he presses his forehead to yours. ‘Sorry my brother’s such a dick, sweetheart.’

‘I heard that!’ comes Tommy’s indignant reply through the door.

You laugh, combing a hand through his tousled hair, but your glazed eyes tell him that you’re no happier at the disruption than he is. ‘What else are little brothers for?’

Making room for you, Joel catches you when you hop off the cupboard, and just so you know that the night is far from over, he slants his lips over yours in a heated kiss.

‘So - your place or mine, sweetheart?’

Note: Thank you for this request @pedroacrossthestreet! It was so fun to revisit Hallow'seams, and I absolutely had to have Tommy walk in on them, you know that man would give Joel shit for months to come 😉

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the divider.

#seams sleepover #hallow'seams #fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut

583 notes · View notes

aristia-pjoheadcanons · 4 months

Note

i love your headcanons! can you write percy jackson x daughter of hades??

(nsfw, sfw, or both)

percy jackson dating a daughter of hades

pairings: percy jackson x reader

warnings: (sfw) + nsfw

author's note: I love writing nsfw, remember that I always age up the characters when writing NSFW!

->masterlist

art by vidia

Being the daughter of hades has its perks, people stay away from you the moment you were claimed. They know better, but the bad thing is that you couldnt find yourself getting comfortable with others if it meant that you couldn't use your powers completely during games/sparring.

Luckily for you, percy is your guy. he can keep up with any attacks or summons or any power you have - and he does not let you down.

he never gets scared of anything you show him (perks of defeating a one titan and one goddess before the age of 18).

Besides, he has two good friends who are also a child of hades/pluto. He is interested in what you can do, but respects it if you dont wanna show him.

In a relationship percy does not mind showing what he likes about you, touching you, holding hands and lacing your fingers together everywhere, staring at you across the room and quirking up an eyebrow in a teasing way (just to see if you react or not).

in a relationship, I feel like percy has no shame in trying to make you flustered, in the same way he does not mind showing you how he likes it.

grabbing your waist when you stand and talk to someone, butting in when you dance with someone other than him, trying to tease you and flirt with you across the room - knowing damn well people are enjoying the show.

He loves to see how you react when he touches your delicate spots, the small of your back, your spine, thigh, inner wrists, anything that has soft skin he is willing to simply graze it with his long fingers - and pull back when you look at him.

other times he just full on stares at you in challenge, like he knows you cant resist the simple touches.

you might ask,

what are you doing?

but he will always give the same answer or some type off variant,

what do you think i'm doing?

by the way, he definetly know you like it when he talks in a husky and deep way. his voice already got deep during puberty, but he really takes it to another level.

he likes to watch you with hooded eyes when he lets out a deep chuckle, he knows you like the vibration coming from his throat.

he knows you like his warmth, and has no issues pressing close to you, even while standing. imagine youre just standing somewhere, and he suddenly comes and bumps his chest close to your body, and keeps it there. he doesnt grind or do anything but he just likes pressing himself close to you.

he wants to know the way you like it.

he likes it when you kiss his neck instead of his lips. or when you check him out from afar, but when he gets close you get shy

ugghhh bedroom eyes pleeeassee stop it percy. he knows a nice blush will form on your face or he has at least memorized what you do, what type of facial expressions you make when you're flustered. this man knows you from the inside out. understands your likes and dislikes and makes it his whole entire personality.

he gets reminded of you whenever he is with someone, wether its someones laugh or anything romantic really. his mind doozes off and he starts to think about you, your lips and your voice, your body underneath him--

he quickly pulls himself away from such thoughts, gets embarassed. but if you are dating, he's bound to think about something at least.

using his powers to make you feel good, forcing the water to give you a nice massage

whenever he watches you use your powers he gets somewhat turned on when you're being intimidating.

i dont want to be stereotypical, but if you do wear dark-coloured clothes and have piercings, dyed hair he just likes the fact that you stick out. but if he likes you, then you are the center of his universe.

things would start out slow between you two,

kisses and flirting->following each other around->

to suddenly backing each other against the wall or any surface

teasing both by pushing your limits, he likes to tilt his head to the side and watch you with his eyes while you try to keep a poker-face.

too bad, percy has mastered the art of poker-faced (refrence to kane chronicles and percy jackson crossover), he can go all day (and yes i mean that in both ways-or all ways)

but he's hesitant to go further with you, so initiate it.

istg, imagine him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his beautiful face - while you get changed slowly on purpose (he knows but he's enjoying the show), and just cast a glance over your shoulder and hes locked it, he will only focus his gaze on you. even if people call his name from outside his cabin, he wont turn his back. he takes in every feature, every movement,...

sheesh his toned abdomen. he didn't think it did anything to you at first, but he noticed how you would watch his shirt roll up whenever he leaned back or how your gaze would flicker to his biceps - so he started to wear his sweatpants low, like really low just to see your reaction. even if you dont make a big deal out of it, he knows you're screaming inside.

in percy's mind, theres something about knowing that someone desires you that makes him give that in return to you. like if he knows you want him, his desires for you grows twice as strong. knowing someone wants him, every part of him, that is enough to spark arousal in this guy.

do anything and he is watching. you are special to him, his one and only. and as the poets say, you are his other half.

touchign and playing with your hair, expose some of your neck, or just watch him with casual eyes and he just gives you a knowing-smirk. he knows when you want it and when you're up for it.

i feel like hes the type of guy to get turned on when you get turned on, your reactions are important to him. you moan, he moans. its as simple as that.

if you like to change up your style every now and then hes transfixed by the way you're casual one day and suddenly glamorous, or when you dress with clothes that most wouldnt wear or when you dress according to a group like the punks, goths or tomboys - hes just fascinated by you.

licks his lips and watched your lips when you talk. you dont even need to be talking to you. hes just memorizing your features. and when hes done with that he chooses the he likes the most.

ogle ogle ogle

quit staring

is a coming saying from you. you're met with the same response,

*quirks eyebrow and doesnt say anything, poker-faced*

sometimes you're met with a smirk.

sheesh. i feel like when he gets flustered he doesnt want to stop staring at you but he does anyway because he wants to try to hide it. lowering his head, looking away quickly and looking down -> smiling at himself for such a reaction but also silently complimenting you for making him react in such a way. everyday is exciting, he wants more. i guess this guy likes the adrenalin, perhaps is reminds him of the curse of achillies in a way?

sing a song and dance around or lip sync. i feel like he sometimes manspreads guys, like i know its annoying when you're sitting next to someone, but he means no harm. besides, usually on the subway he stands even if theres an empty seat.

but when he is sitting he spreads and leans back and watches you. sometimes he comes forward and rests his forearms on his knees to get a better view. if someone gets in the view ex. stands in front of him or blocks the view, he clicks his tongue and tries to look around. if a guy starts talking to you or dances with you theres a minuscule feeling of bitter hate in his chest that runs pretty hot and deep in his veins, luckily he doesnt make a scene but just sits there irritated. wipe that frown off his face plz.

has developed a habit of touching his hair and scratching his neck because of you. he starting doing does habits becuase he wants to seem cool and look good, but also because he gets nervous

he naturally smells like sea-water, but started to wear a musky, deep, hollow scent as his cologne so that when he puts his jacket around you - you can smell him and smell like him the rest of the day/night.

likes it when you lay in his bed so he remembers how you smell, its comforting - but not always good if it keeps him up at night

not a very innapropriate or suggestive person but gives his friends "the look" when you're being sexy on purpose. not to make fun of you or undermine you, but because he needs to make sure everyone is also getting this, phew.

like i said, he likes your scent - but secretly lays down in your bed (even if you're in the top bunk hes going to climb up there shamelessly) so that it smells like you and hopes it keeps you awake at night too.

if you try to tease him for staring or try to stare back at him he maintains eye contact and sometimes blurts out:

pretty

867 notes · View notes

priniya · 11 months

Note

hi lovie! could you do some percy (or leo, maybe both?? i love them sm hahaha) headcanons abt dating an aphrodite’s child?

I COMPLETELY LOVE THE IDEA OMG??? tysm for requesting anon <3

sorry if it’s not like you imagined it😭 it’s my first time with headcanons like that

dating percy as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .

okay you all gotta admit that if percy could, he would brag about his partner being so beautiful that no one can compete with them

i feel like he’s at the university and some guys are talking and he just waits for a chance to show you off and be like “they are literally a goddess’ child”

BUT IN FRONT OF YOU??? he’d get so awkward even if you were dating for so long

also i’m 100% sure annabeth would sometimes point it out and laugh at the way he turns into a hot mess around you

but tbh you thought it was cute, cus let’s be real. it’s percy jackson, if you weren’t a hot mess around him as well, who would you be?

if you two are sent on a mission together, he rarely thinks about himself first, always making sure you’re okay before he checks himself

in his dorm he probably has pictures of you sticked to the wall in like a heart shape and his roommates might make fun of him for being such a simp but those photos gives him strength whenever you two are apart 🔥

he’s all in for that relationship, he even officially introduced you to both his parents and paul

you taught him how to braid hair and whenever you stay at his mom’s he braid his sister’s hair under your supervision ☹️☹️

when he started dating you he probably became such a gossip guy LIKE hear me out, he started paying attention to details and people’s behavior to talk about it with you

“you won’t believe what i heard today from piper.” “nah, she didn’t told me about it directly, her body language did.”, “i know right, how could he do that to her?”

he’s all in for the tea‼️‼️‼️

OH and also when you began dating he started paying more attention to jewellery and his outfits upgraded so much??

HE IS ALSO SO JEALOUS OF YOU AND HE KISSES YOU IN PUBLIC WHEN HE CATCHES A GUY LOOKING YOUR WAY

“i know you’re a child of aphrodite but these people gotta know i am your ares. or hephaestus.” “wait, am i your ares or hephaestus?”

dating leo as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .

this man is head over heels for you, and i know i said percy also is head over heels for his partner but LEO is on different level

he often drags you to the bunker whenever he feels like it and make you sit there with him, while he crafts something (mostly for you)

that man dedicates all his work for you, like

“oh this? i made it for yn cus they said [insert thing] fall apart so i just… did it.”

ngl he is kind of insecure that you’d left him for a child of ares just like your mother did to his father. even though you reassure him he’s the one on your mind, it still stings him sometimes

getting an approval from your mom wasn’t even that hard as you thought it could be. though she wasn’t exactly the most delighted you were in love with her husband’s child but… love is love right?

pet names in spanish ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

n you would pick it up and surprise him by calling him something in spanish <3

EVEN THOUGH he’s insecure about history repeating itself he jokes about it way too much sometimes 😭😭

brags to jason about you so much jason wants to off himself and i am not kidding

he once asked you to charm-speak him just to see how it feels

“what? don’t be like that, mi amor. i gotta know what’s your power’s like in case you do it subconsciously.”

(that’s literally the dumbest excuse you’d ever hear but didn’t care, considering it was your boyfriend who asked)

MANY people says you remind them of charlie and silena and when you heard it for the first time, you broke down crying because it was such a good compliment

#percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson au #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fic #leo valdez fic #leo valdez headcanon #leo valdez headcanons #percy jackson headcanons #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez oneshot

2K notes · View notes

rootbeersturniolo · 1 month

Text

the first part of this series.

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: the new semester at chicago university started with nothing more than the troubles of relationships, rumors, and studies. everything was going fine until the death of their bestfriend. at the end of the day there’s only one question they can ask; would you love somebody enough to kill for them?

warnings: mentions of death and murder, alcohol, drinking, semi public smut, homophobia, assault.

Chicago, Illinois. The place I’ve been living in for the past nineteen years. Most people look at our city as a tourist attraction. The scenery catching many visitors eyes as they stopped through the states of the northeast.

What made it so interesting? I wouldn't know. There was much beauty to the actual city, I'll admit that, but there was more mystery under the rooted trees of Illinois.

My life in Chicago was something I’ve grown comfortable with, almost like a routine.

Walking back from school with my best friends while the wind entangled our hair, a group of people I cherished with every fibre of my being.

I met Natalie first, she was one of the popular girls in our elementary school and I was… not. But one day she asked me to color with her and she’s been stuck by my side since, like sisters.

We argued occasionally, like sisters did, but other than that we’ve been close ever since. We’ve made it through middle school, high school, and now we were attending college together, along with the a few other members of our group.

Through Natalie I met Jackson, yet another person who I considered to be too popular for my presence, but somehow the dynamic worked.

The two of them have been on and off since freshman year of high school. Though, no matter how much they went through they always ended up together again. No amount of tears would stop that.

Nobody even considered what they had to be a relationship. Most wouldn’t even consider it love. They loved each other obviously, they’d known each other for so long. But they’ve never been in love, but in lust instead.

It was not a relationship I ever aspired for.

When I was left to play by myself at recess, Nick had approached me, his atmosphere was immediately welcoming and we became swing buddies for the rest of middle school—Even when it was considered childish.

Nick was someone I could tell everything to, there was never judgement between the two of us and it was always comfortable, safe.

Clicking with Nicks brother Chris was easy, him and I were practically the same person and we shared so many similar thought processes. It was like a brother-sister dynamic, sure, there was bickering and teasing, but at the end of the day I knew he’d be there for me. His words of affirmation got me through high school, but for a while Matt was just sort of… there.

He was never one to start a conversation, even getting him to actively participate in one was a stretch. He was reserved and mainly kept to himself. I didn’t mind though, because when he did speak it was sweet.

Our dynamic started to change our junior year of highschool. Through raging hormones, and the fact we were always together, it was inevitable that our friendship would soon change.

Now we’d been together for two years. The best two years of my life.

Matt was my first boyfriend, and he was the perfect example of how every boyfriend should be. He was loving, caring, and would do anything for me. I’ll never forget the day that changed everything.

“Chris! What are you doing?” Nick asked, visibly annoyed at his brother’s actions. Chris just rolled his eyes in response. “It’s a small bite Nick calm down, you’re acting like I ate the whole thing.”

Nick scoffed. “Have you heard of asking? Last time I checked we weren’t obligated to share food since we were in the womb thirteen years ago.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hey guys—” Matt started speaking from beside me, not getting far before his brother interrupted him. Like usual.

“It’s ice cream Nick, not gold.” Chris replied as he takes another bite of his own fro yo, clearly not understanding or caring for his brother’s frustrated reaction.

Our group had decided to bike to the local ice cream diner on the warm summer day, especially because those days aren’t common in Chicago.

“Guys let’s—” Matt’s cut off yet again, even after raising the volume behind his voice. I look to him briefly, not wanting to stare but also feeling bad for the boy.

The rest of the group eventually continues their conversation, not even acknowledging Matt or his attempts to speak and it’s clear he’s defeated—his head laying low as he mumbled something to himself.

I felt a slight sting to my heart looking at him like that, it wouldn’t feel right to join in with the rest of the group. “Hey Matt?”

His head perked up, he made eye contact with me as a slight glimmer of hope re entered his face. “Yeah Charlotte?” He asked.

I smile, him and I aren’t close, but for whatever reason seeing him happy made me happy. “What were you trying to say earlier?”

Ever since that simple summer day, getting ice cream with the group, Matt and I had a newfound understanding for one another.

He wasn’t always listened to, getting caught behind his over achieving brothers in almost every aspect of his life, but I would always be there to tell him that he’s doing enough—that he is enough.

This wasn’t a one sided thing though, I had often struggled with surges of sadness. There wasn’t always a reason but it could easily get to a point where I’d lose all motivation for everything and feel incredibly helpless—and maybe I was a little helpless, but I always had Matt there to try to help and that’s what stuck with me.

He’d clean my room if it felt too overwhelming to complete, or just sit in silence next to me when I didn’t have it in me to speak to him. It’s a mutual relationship that’s carried by balance on both ends and it works for us.

This general understanding of one another has made us… close.

“Mm— fuck just like that.” I let out a muffled moan as my eyes rolled into the back of my head, a familiar hand covering my mouth as our bodies moved in a rhythm that suits us.

My leg begins to ache slightly as it’s propped up on a toilet seat, but it’s impossible to focus on anything when Matt’s thrusting his hips into me at a pace I can’t stay quiet in—one hand is placed gently on my lower stomach as leverage for him to thrust impossibly deeper into me while his other hand holds a firm pressure on my swollen lips, keeping me silent.

Public sex was not something on my bucket list, but the combination of my boyfriend's neediness and my inability to focus on anything other than his hands… it was kind of inevitable.

“Stay quiet baby, cmon.” He speaks quietly, clearly fighting back moans of his own as his tip continually makes contact with my g-spot, the angle only making the feeling more intense.

One thing about a quickie is that it needs to be quick, the loud music pouring through the hinges of the door serving as a constant reminder that we aren’t entirely alone.

I’m unable to speak fully, but Matt knows me well enough to know I’m close by the way my back arches away from him and my toes curl slightly onto the seat.

He also knows exactly what it takes for me to finish quick.

The boys lips make gentle contact with my exposed neck, sucking at a spot he’s grown comfortable with while his hand on my lower stomach inches even lower. “You gonna cum for me here? Getting fucked senseless in a public bathroom turn you on?” He asks.

Once again I’m unable to reply, if I speak, I moan—and that’s the last thing we need with our whole friend group out in the living room, oblivious to our current position.

His fingers make a light contact with my throbbing clit, causing my head to fall back into his shoulder as my body shutters at the touch. Subconsciously I clench onto him, nearing my orgasam already, what’s unfortunate is that he’s unable to mask the moan that escapes his lips.

I love his noises, always have—but right now? I wish the fucker would shut the hell up.

He looked at me with an apology riddled in his blue eyes, and it’s hard not to forgive him with his fingers that pick up the pace on my clit and his hips that continue to slam into my walls.

Definitely forgiven.

I grab on the sink in front of me to stabilize myself, my orgasam still threatening to release onto the length inside of me, my mouth widening at the sensation coursing through my body. He leans in to whisper into my ear once more. “Can you be quiet cumming on my cock pretty girl?”

I nod almost too enthusiastically as the build up in my stomach becomes too overwhelming to ignore, squeezing my eyes shut and biting my lip, trying so desperately to stay quiet—although with Matt’s slip up, it might be a lost cause.

My abs clench as shocks of pleasure shoot through my muscles, the feelings of Matt’s chest pressed against my back has me smiling at the closeness of it all, the small amount of intimacy that can come with a bathroom quickie.

He finishes practically right after me. He also got off knowing how good he made me feel, that was his favorite part.

With one more kiss planted on my temple he pulls out, discarding the condom in the small trashcan while I slide my pants back on, pulling down my shirt slightly to fully cover myself again.

We look to each other once more, mentally preparing ourselves for the walk of shame, knowing Matt’s loud ass will be teased by our friends awaiting our return. I place a finger on his chest. “This is your fault Matthew just letting you know.” He smiles slightly before opening the door and walking out to the slightly less crowded living room.

Our friend group resides in the living room, sprawled around the floor and the couch, most of them at least five drinks in.

Matt’s hand stayed interlocked with mine as we occupied our recent position on the couch beside the window cill littered with our old drinks.

I knew someone was going to mention something regarding Matt and I’s disappearance to the bathroom, but the last thing I needed was the recently found annoying voice from across the room to bring it up.

“Did you two have fun?” Natalie asked, raising her eyebrow as she leaned further against her seat. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head, taking my previous cup from the window.

She clearly sensed my annoyance, but she was drunk, and she was also Natalie which meant she didn’t care enough to move on.

“Better than doing it with Collin’s in there.” She chuckled lightly, her flushed cheeks turning into a smile as she ran her fingers throughout her dirty blonde locks.

My grip on Matt’s hand tightened out of pure frustration and embarrassment. At a party full of half of our class, and this is what she wanted to talk about. The rumor had been spreading like wildfire, and there was only one person to blame.

Natalie.

Her recent inquiries and speculations over me hooking up with our professor for extra credit instead of just doing the work myself.

"We've all been there before, there's no shame." Natalie shrugged as she brought the red solo cups to her matching red lips. Her eyes were heavy and her words were slow, more relaxed than her usual personality.

l let out a soft sigh as my gaze traced towards her.

This wasn't the night I wanted to talk about anything regarding Natalie's theories about my personal life. Even though they were obviously wrong, and everyone else could vouch for that.

She looked at me with her drunken eyes, her expression screaming I don't believe you as she took another drink.

"I don't blame you, he's hot."

"You're just getting ridiculous." I finally snapped, my jaw slightly clenched as I turned to her once more. Suddenly the attention was only on me. She furrowed her eyebrows in surprise. "Do you have anything better to do?” I shook my head.

It was becoming hard to pretend that her constant comments weren't driving me crazy. Even if I knew that they shouldn't, and even if I knew that what she was saying was just her own personal beliefs.

The room quickly turned silent as my eyes remained on Natalie. Her cheeks flushed red. Either from the alcohol or being put on the spot for the first time in her life.

"Excuse me?" She replied, setting down her drink as a soft laugh left her lips. I let out a frustrated breath before pushing myself from the couch, letting my feet take me as far away from her as possible. Even if that was just the kitchen.

I placed my hands on the counter, taking a deep breath as the crowd pushed around me, pouring endless combinations of beverages into their recycled red cups.

Only a few moments had passed before a pair of ringed hands came in contact with my waist. I let out a muffled sigh as Matt turned me around, my face coming in contact with his. He smiled gently, running his hands along my hipbone.

"You ok?" He mumbled, scanning my face as I rolled my eyes with a shrug. I crossed my arms over my chest before I finally nodded. "I'm fine, she's drunk." I replied.

“Doesn’t mean she’s not annoying you.” He replied, his cold rings continuing to glide along my hips as his eyes stay fixated on my own.

He’s right of course, Natalie became more and more annoying as time went on, her inflated self esteem made it impossible to be around her sometimes—but she’s still apart of the group that stays rooted in middle school friendships.

“I’m just sick of the shit.” I pause, taking a quick swig of whatever random substance resides on the counter next to me. “But professor Collin’s? Really?” I sighed.

He frowned gently, pushing a strand of hair behind my face as he continued to look down at me. His eyes had been slightly glazed over from the alcohol mixed with our recent events.

“I don’t love the way he talks to you.” He said, quietly enough to avoid anyone overhearing this conversation. The rumor was already spread, no need to continue to slander my name.

I roll my eyes. “He’s a nice guy with a wife and kids. I don’t think he’s an actual weirdo he just…” I paused my words. “He chooses the wrong way to say things sometimes”

“He also wants to get in your pants.” He blurts out slightly.

I can’t be bothered to continue this conversation anymore, we’ve talked about it before but I stand by the innocence of the teacher-student dynamic I share with my professor. “He’s not the only one.” I tease, pulling Matt closer to me by the loops on him jeans, his hips connecting with my own.

“Ok, weirdo we get it.” He shakes his head, a smile plastered on his face. “Why don’t we go back to the bathroom?” I asked, a faux frown plastered on my face as I tugged him impossibly closer. Our bodies pressed together.

He hummed in response before gesturing to our friends back on the couch. “They might think we’re ditching them.” He breathed out, his hands running along my hips.

“I’m okay with that.” I shrugged, a smile taking over my face as my gaze remained on Matt. He chuckled lightly before shaking his head. “Wait until I can treat you right on a real bed, make it worth your while.” He joked.

“I enjoyed it.”

“I did too.” He assured, nodding gently. “But it’s too risky to go back.” He spoke with a raised brow. It was true, it was definitely risky, but it was also so worth it.

Another sigh escaped my lips as I let go off his denim loops, wrapping my arms around my chest. He returned the sigh.

“Hey.” He breathed out, taking my hand off of my chest and interlocking them. “Don’t be mad at me.” He spoke, raising his eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes, starting to speak again before hearing a crash in the living room behind us. I furrowed my eyebrows, letting go of Matt’s hand as I walked from the kitchen towards the noise.

My eyes widened as I saw Bryce on the floor, the familiar boy Josh on top of him, continuing to swing punches like that was all he could do. Matt stood next to me, a heavy breath leaving his lips before rushing forward.

Bryce Reyes was Nicks boyfriend. They’d been together for exactly three months now, and he was one of the best and only additions to our group in a long time.

Always a light to our constant chaotic mess of a group, his smile providing a sense of calm to everyone, especially to Nick. It’s why we all like him so much, anyone Nick likes we like.

Natalie stood from the couch, drunken words leaving her slips as everyone watched the scene unfold in front of them.

“You like fucking boys?” Josh asked before his fists collided with his cheekbone again. The blood on his face was getting more visible by the minute, a panicked Nick stood in the corner of the room. The party went silent.

“Enough—” Matt yelled, placing his hands on Josh’s shoulders, attempting to pull him off of Bryce before he himself was pushed back. My heart raced in my chest.

Matt stood from the ground, frustration on his features as he tried to breakup the fight once more, but nobody paid any attention to him, still focused on the terrifying scene unraveling.

“You’re pathetic.” Josh scoffed, his hands tightening around the collar of Bryce’s shirt, pulling him from the ground.

“He said enough!” Jackson spoke, successfully pulling Josh off of Bryce who laid against the carpet with more than just a bloody nose. His hair was a mess, his eye was already bruising, and he looked like he had been found at the scene of a crime.

His actions were successful, Josh standing up before wiping his own bloody nose, a slight smirk pulling his the side of his mouth. Nick rushed toward Bryce’s side as the party slowly started to resume once again.

I glanced toward my side, a purely pissed off Matt standing with his jaw clenched. It was obvious why he was upset. No one listened to him. He shook his head before turning on his heel.

“Matt, where are you going?” I frowned, taking a step forward but he had already rushed toward the doors of the party. There was no point to try and run after him, he would push me away like he had been recently.

I sighed, running my hands through my hair. I needed to let Matt cool off, and I was fine doing that as long as I knew he was safe.

“Don’t stress.” Chris spoke, walking beside me as he held an empty bottle of vodka, clearly starting to cleanup the mess. “He always comes back.” He shrugged before walking past me.

Chris was my bestfriend, practically my closest, and I loved him. But sometimes I wish he paid more attention to his brother.

It hurt me to see him hurt.

My arms slumped against the wooden desk as I groaned lightly, the slight hangover behind my head. The fluorescent lights of the classroom hadn’t been helping either.

I had returned back to my dorm soon after. I hadn’t heard from Matt since, so seeing him for the first time in class was making me more nervous than I should.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he was mad at me for not running after him— I was just trying to help. But then again that’s usually where I seem to go wrong.

The only thing I did know was that Natalie hadn’t returned last night. My only assumption could be that she snuck off with Jackson after the party, and she was still intertwined against his body popping a bottle of pain killers or whatever else it is she does.

They had gotten back together one month ago after their two week separation period. The last time I had seen her she was drooling over him with a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Have you seen Natalie?” I asked Chris, furrowing my eyebrows with a soft sigh as I glanced around the room. There was still no trace of her, and the silence filling the air could prove it.

The early mornings of Professor Collin’s American history course were usually filled with recent gossip, and constant giggling.

Today it was silent.

And it was suffocating.

Chris shook his head with a soft shrug before taking his notebook from his bag, turning the pages as the desk beside me soon became occupied. I looked over to see Matt with an undeniable smile crossing over my face as he turned to me.

“You ok?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. He nodded quickly, returning the smile before taking his supplies out as well. I didn’t question him, instead nodding before our professor walked in, his eyes instantly finding mine.

He gave me the usual flustered smile before walking to his desk, turning the projector and preparing for the lecture.

I didn’t mind history, I actually enjoyed it. Though sometimes it got frustrating when my professor couldn’t find the right words to express how well I did on my recent assignment.

The class went by slow. Two hours of endless notes and timelines that I wouldn’t remember by the next day.

“One last question to wrap this up.” Professor Collin’s spoke, an amused smile on his face before his eyes turned to me. “You can answer, right?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

I furrowed my eyebrow, sighing gently before looking down at my half assed noted. Instead of denying I simply nodded.

“Great!” He exclaimed, walking over toward me as his arms crossed over his chest. “During which war was a Christmas Truce called?” He asked. I took a deep breath, glancing down to my notes before scrunching my face in confusion.

“We didn’t learn that.” I shook my head. He nodded slowly before walking away from my desk. “We didn’t, but we did in my other history class. Which I think you would be interested in.” He spoke again. I sighed.

“I don’t have the time.” I replied, nodding slowly as I tried to change the conversation. The last thing I needed after last night was even more rumors circulating.

Especially when my boyfriend is beside me.

The professor frowned gently, clearly causing a scene in front of the entire class “Come on, you can’t drop one class— for me?” He asked. My eyes widened in embarrassment.

I didn’t respond, instead shaking my head as I swallowed my nerves. I could feel Matt’s eyes against my head like lasers.

“That’s ok.” He sighed again, before turning to the clock on the wall. “Class is over anyway.” He mumbled before sitting in his desk once more. I let out a breath of relief before standing up, sliding my books into my bag as quickly as possible before turning through the door.

My book bag was tightly pressed against my shoulders as I walked along the sidewalk of our campus. My eyes people watched with every step I took back to my dorm.

One of my favorite parts about our University was the variety of people that attended. Endless opportunities to make new friends, but for some reason I’ve had the same ones for years.

“Wait up!” A familiar voice called from behind me. I quickly turned around, my expression relaxing once I saw it was only Matt. He gave me a soft smile before running toward me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before walking beside me.

“Let’s do something later.” He suggested as he interlaced our hands together. I liked when he didn’t mention the obvious.

“I can’t, I have to study.” I spoke with a soft sigh, frowning gently as he swung our arms back and forth. He chuckled lightly. “You’d rather study than see me?” He asked.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. He was so stubborn sometimes. So prone to take everything out of context just to get a kick out of me.

“That isn’t what I said.” I replied as we continued to walk throughout the campus. He shrugged, our arms still swinging in the air. “Then have me over. I’ll help you study.” He spoke.

Another sigh escaped my lips. I wanted to see Matt, I really did, but Natalie would be back at some point tonight.

I also really did have to study.

There wasn’t a response from me, instead simple silence as we approached the building. I turned to him with a raised brow, an amused smirk creeping on his face. “So it’s a yes?”

“Fine.” I sighed, rolling my eyes as he smiled down at me. It was so hard to say no to someone with a smile like that.

“You know I love you, right?” Matt asked, playing with the lace fabric of my shirt as I read the book in front of me. Our bodies were intertwined as my back rested against his chest.

I furrowed my eyebrows before nodding, placing my bookmark in between the pages before closing my book. I turned around so I was facing him, my legs over his.

“I know.” I smiled gently, scanning his face with a worried expression. “Why?” I asked, the obvious confusion present in my time. He didn’t reply instead his cheeks filling red before he pulled me closer to him by my waist.

He brought his lips against mine, his hands moving up my sides. I almost melted into his touch instantly, but I wanted an answer.

I pulled away from him, a frown replacing his one blushed expression. “What?” He mumbled, sliding his hand under my shirt gently, letting it rest against the fabric of my jeans.

“Why’d you say that?” I asked, raising my eyebrow as I looked down at him. He shrugged before laughing lightly. “I just wanted to remind you.” He nodded. My eyebrows furrowed.

For whatever reason it felt as though he cut off his own thoughts, but our dynamic worked because I don’t pry, so I’m not going to start now.

He leans in once more, presumably to stop me from asking more questions, but it was easy to get distracted when kissing him.

My hands make their way to his hair, scratching slightly on the back of his head in the way i know always makes him shiver.

Unfortunately, being the boy that he is, he takes this as a sign to begin lifting up my shirt, pulling the fabric up on my back exposing the back of my bra.

“Ok lover boy.” I pull back out of the kiss. “As much as I’d love to continue this I do have to study and you are meant to help me.” I sighed, placing a finger on his chest as I’ve fully leaned away.

He lets out an overdramatic sigh, faking a frown as I pull myself off of him. “If I fail this lit course it will be your fault.” I say, refocusing my attention on the numerous notes displayed in front of me.

“Yeah yeah I get it. Be studious.” Matt sits up, leaning against me as I sort through all the papers that remain unorganized. “What’s this test worth again?” He asks as, resting his chin on my shoulder, his breath on my neck causing a slight chill down my spine.

“It’s like fifteen percent I think but—” I get cut off by the sound of my phone ringing, my mom’s profile picture lighting up the screen.

My relationship with my parents was complicated. I was raised by two workaholics who would rather solve numerous crimes than drive their daughter to her first ballet recital.

I respect it, obviously, but Chicago will always have crime. They do great things and they help people, I just wish it didn’t come at the expense of my childhood.

The phone doesn’t ring for long when I finally pick it up, a smile on my face. “Hey mom what’s up?” I asked, looking at Matt who has a stupid innocent smirk on his face.

As embarrassing as it might be to admit, I was excited my mom was calling me because at least, even if she was out at work, she was still talking to me. I loved talking to my mom—when she wasn’t swamped with cases that is.

“Char sweetie, It’s about Natalie.” She spoke with a tone that terrifies me, one that’s both serious yet cautious—something I wasn’t expecting when answering.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” My eyebrows furrowed, I’m sure Natalie’s fine, she always is. I would place money on her being at Jackson’s place right now with a killer hangover and a dead phone.

“Are you alone right now?” My mom finally asked, causing a sense of worry to course through my stomach. My face must show how i’m feeling because Matt adapts the same expression, one of worry.

“I’m uh, I’m with Matt right now. Are you sure everything’s okay?” I asked, worry fueling my voice as I await a respond.

“Natalie was murdered.”

You know when people say that certain phrases or experiences can freeze time? This was mine.

The rest of the call was a blur, my mom telling me to seek comfort in Matt because she’s swamped with this case, but really I just wanted to hug her, I wanted to hug my mom and have her tell me everything’s okay.

Death is weird. One second, someone’s there. Annoying or not they are there and that feels constant—until it isn’t.

I could find Natalie annoying all I want, and I could continue to be upset over a dumb rumor, but she was family to me, possibly the closest I ever had.

When I hang up the phone I freeze, eyes situated on the sight ahead of me as my brain tries to process this, tears traveling down my cheeks before I can fully comprehend this situation at hand.

Matt gently places his hand on my upper back and the contact was enough to send me over the edge, the build up in my stomach releasing and sobs exiting my mouth. “It’s okay baby It’s okay.”

He doesn’t even know why I’m crying, I doubt he heard the phone but he’s still here for me regardless. “She’s gone Matt, they said she was—” I choke, trying to gain composure for the boy. “She was murdered.”

I’m simply a mess, my stomach hurts from the muscles tensing at each sob I let out. Matt’s hand just rubs soft strokes on my back as my head falls into his lap.

She’s gone and the last thing I did was bitch her out. I can’t get that night back.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: sincerely, sienna and grace

taglist: @lovingmattysposts @sturniolho @greatooglymooglyyy @fake-sturniolos @mayhem-72 @luv4kozume @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosbxtch @wurlibydominicfike @bernardsbendystraws @txssvx @thecynthh @biimpanicking @junnniiieee07 @stazsi @mazzystar111 @gnxosblog @imwetforyourmom @stonermattsgf @paibey @lovelottos @creamoncreamoncream2 @m4ttschewtoy @sturnioloslife @bitchydragonparadise @anlqq @y0urm4m @bernardenjoyer @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @cherrypostsposts @thenickgirl

#the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader

376 notes · View notes

breadbrobin · 3 months

Text

“in every other universe”

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

summary: luke said he’d love you in every other universe. luke was many things, but he wasn’t a liar.

warnings: ANGST, kissing, mentions of canon typical violence, use of pet names, so much angst bro omg

word count: 1.0k

(i wrote this AGES ago like around episode three so don’t come at me for it being a lil different to how he acts in the finale ok i did my best and i didn’t wanna change too much bc i love it)

—————————————

“do you think we’re together in every universe?”

it was a quiet question. one that luke’s ears could barely pick up through the murmurs of the hermes cabin and the whistling of the wind outside. your breath was right against his cheek though, and your whispered question carried to him.

he frowned. “what do you mean?”

“like,” he could hear you shifting to face him, and he looked over at you, seeing the outline of your features in the dark. “in every other universe where we exist—as whatever we exist as—do you think we met? became friends? then fell in love too?”

he was quiet for a moment, turning his head back to look up at the bunk above him. “yeah. i think we find each other in every universe. i don’t think even the fabric of time and space itself could tear us apart.”

he could hear your soft giggle through the night. “really?”

“really.” he rolled to face you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “not even the gods could tear us apart, baby. not the gods, not the universe itself, nothing.”

he punctuated his words with soft kisses, only stopping when you smiled and yawned tiredly.

“i love you,” you whispered, shifting closer and tucking your head under his chin.

he kissed your hair, warmth growing in his chest as it always did around you, especially on nights where you’d sneak into his bunk to fall asleep together, limbs tangled, hair messy, sleep in your eyes. “i love you too.” his voice was a whisper, barely audible. he said it like a prayer, a reverent statement that made you feel like the most loved person in the universe—in any universe. you wondered if all of your other iterations loved him like you did. if all of your other versions of yourself were as deeply, irrevocably in love with this boy who had you wrapped in his arms and wrapped around his fingers. you didn’t used to believe in fate and destiny. luke helped you see that he was yours.

in every other universe, you thought bitterly. i hope every other universe is happier than this.

luke had left. he was gone. long gone.

he’d came to see you, begging you on your knees to join him, to leave with him.

“please, my love, he can give us whatever we want. we can live forever, immortal in this new world that he will build us!” his eyes had been frantic, pleading… broken.

you had gotten to his level, cupping his face in your hands and stroking his cheeks softly. “luke…”

“baby, he will give us anything,” he’d begged. “anything. just come with me.”

you had shaken your head, kissed his lips one last time. your own were salty with tears. “he’s poisoned your mind, luke.”

“the gods have poisoned your mind,” he sneered. “they are responsible for everything. all the pain, all the unclaimed kids, this—“ he jabbed a finger at the scar on his face. “—and all the death that came with it.”

“and you think titans will be better? luke, don’t do this.”

“it’s already done,” he said, his voice stronger. “come with me. together in every universe. this will be the only one that matters anymore, baby. come with me.”

“no.” that was all you’d had to say.

his face crumbled. bitterness and regret filled his eyes, and for a second, you thought he might change his mind. you thought he might stay with you.

you were wrong.

he’d stood up, looking down at you with eyes colder than you’d ever seen. you’d always known luke could be volatile. he was too controlled sometimes, when he shouldn’t be, like he was always holding something back. his sword-fighting was too restrained, and yet too good. there was a balance there that was impossible to achieve unless you’d seen both sides—weak and strong, powerless and entirely powerful. you understood now what that was. you’d never been scared of him before.

he towered over you. “fine. you’ve made your choice. don’t come crying to us when you change your mind.”

the way he said ‘us’ sent a shiver down your spine. you felt nauseous as you kneeled there in front of him, not even feeling strong enough to stand up.

“i love you,” you whispered as he drew his sword.

he faltered for a moment, then his jaw clenched. “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t be betraying me like this.”

as the hilt of his sword hit your temple, memories flashed through your head—of sharing strawberries and kissing under trees, of skipping stones on the shore and sneaking into each others bunks when you couldn’t sleep. years of friendship, then love… all destroyed with the hit of a blade’s hilt. you wondered, who was really the traitor here? it didn’t feel like you.

when you’d woken up, you were in the infirmary. chiron was just outside with the new kid, percy jackson. annabeth was sitting beside you, holding your hand, tears in her eyes.

when she saw you were awake, she squeezed your hand and helped you sit up.

“he’s gone?” you asked weakly.

she nodded, her eyes filling with bitter tears again. “yeah. he… he attacked percy too. while everyone was celebrating. he…” she trailed off and shook her head. “he betrayed all of us. i should have seen it coming. i should have…”

you shook your head. how could he be so cruel? how could you not have noticed? it wasn’t annabeth’s job to—it wasn’t yours either, sure, but you’d seen the signs months ago. you should have seen how things would end. you should have done something sooner. you should have, you should have, you should have.

out loud, you said nothing, just opened your arms for annabeth to fall into. you both needed someone, but the person you both needed was nowhere to be found.

it wasn’t fair.

you didn’t know what was coming next, but you knew that luke’s soul was intertwined with yours, in whatever way it ended up being. he’d said once that you were his anchor, his reason to live after his failed quest… so why couldn’t you be his reason to stay? why couldn’t he have loved you more, loved you like he said he didn’t in every other universe, and stayed?

why, why, why? you feared you would find yourself asking that question until the day you died.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

1K notes · View notes