#clara tries to gif

[lonelyzarquon]

To hell with the last hurrah. Let's keep going.

[djo]

STEVE HARRINGTON Stranger Things | 2.09: The Gate

[tardxsblues]

Doctor Who | 8.11 Dark Water

[sentientsky]

welcome to a segment i like to call “scenes from dw that make me feel like flying into the sun icarus-style” (see part 2 here)

[expelliarmus]

[hot-in-a-dress]

OKAY YALL HOLD UP. I just rewatched the Crimson Horror as a part of my Grand Doctor Who Binge before the 60th,, and I noticed something. At the end of the episode, there’s a sort of tag that is meant to set up a little bit more about the whole Impossible Girl arc. Clara is approached by the kids she looks after, who have found a series of pictures of her throughout history. They are blackmailing her into letting them time travel because, clearly, she’s all around history.

Only here’s the thing. When they’re saying this, part of their evidence is, „and look, that‘s your boyfriend there!“ (or something equivalent) pointing at the Doctor. Now, listen I am not the biggest Whouffle/Clara and 11 shipper out there (though I do believe they’re in love), but this time..it’s basically made canon. Clara /doesn’t deny it/ when the children say that.

Sure, you could say that she‘s being distracted by the photographs, but she’s still focussed enough on what they’re saying to correct them that she was in Yorkshire not London in 1893. She‘s actively tracking everything they say in order to try and disprove that she is a time traveler, but she DOESN‘T EVEN TRY to say anything against the Doctor being her boyfriend, if anything she smiled a bit when they said that (which personally I think was a choice on Jenna Coleman‘s part, since she has previously said that she played Clara as being in love with the Doctor).

Long Story Short, the details that make Whouffle even less subtle are driving me mad and they are all I will be thinking about, thank you.

[timeandspacenovelist]

A Timelord in Coal Hill

When Clara accidentally finds herself in a situation where she has to be in two places at once, the Doctor steps in to help.

But after his last experience as a caretaker, can he get through the day and still be the best Clara he can be?

______________________________________________________________

[marvelsswansong]

Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only

no but like seriously 🌞👉👈

Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.

This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.

Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.

If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.

"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.

Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.

"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.

But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.

So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.

He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.

After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.

You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.

It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.

His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.

Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.

"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.

"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."

"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.

You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.

She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.

"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."

With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.

"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."

You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.

"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

Regardless of their gender.

Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.

BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)

You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.

Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.

"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."

The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.

He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.

a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe

[januaryembrs]

JUST A THEORY | Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: congratulations on 2k!!! you deserve that and so much more your writing is incredible! 🥳🥳🥳 if I could jump in with a request could I ask for a Spencer x reader fic where the reader is a journalist/reporter looking into a case as well and they cross paths? I think the tension and bickering would be so fun

Description: There's something about that agent Jennifer brought along with her that pushes every single one of your buttons

Length: 1.6k

warnings: general cm violence, probably not em's best work

“You know this could be considered obstructing a federal investigation,” Spencer huffed, trying to look over your shoulder where you skimmed the book in your hands with meticulous eyes. You ignored him, continuing to read the information despite feeling his burning glare in the back of your head, his breath on your neck as he shadowed your figure around the building. 

“You know the best part about a public library, Doctor Reid? It’s public,” You drawled back, your eyes never ripping from the page except to make a few notes of some key information for your article, “Which means I have every right to be in here just as much as you do,”

You heard him run a hand over his face and tried not to smirk at how easy he was to agitate. You’d heard a lot about the BAU, almost every criminology based paper in Virginia had, and so it wasn’t too surprising to meet the brains behind the reputation when three women had been murdered in the FBI’s home town. Every press association that was worth their money was all over the story, ‘How could this have happened so close to the capital in a city crawling with agents?’, which made your job just that bit more competitive and taxing. 

Yet luckily for you, you knew exactly where to go snooping for answers. It just so happened, the BAU’s resident genius did too.

“I guarantee it would be easier for both of us if you just give me the book first. I can read ten times faster than you,” He snipped, still a pup at your heels where you wandered through the aisles of non-fiction, the white lettering hanging above the shelves spelling PSYCHOLOGY. You rolled your eyes at his persistence, ignoring his attitude as you rounded the corner at the end of the row and looped back to where you’d picked up the book, the man still over your shoulder. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you’re not supposed to talk in libraries?” You hissed back, flicking the page over and hearing his footsteps move in tandem with your own, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” 

You hid a grin, hearing him pause at that, remembering the first day you’d been assigned the story. 

It started only a week ago. The newest victim had been found in the woods, stabbed seven times the same as the other two, her entire body washed in strong bleach, her hair and nails trimmed and ears even swabbed clean. You’d managed to get five minutes to sit with her parents, your pen and trusted notebook at the ready. 

“Why don’t you tell me about what Clara was like as a kid?” You said softly, eyes comforting and calm as you spoke over coffee that was quickly going cold. But you didn’t care. 

You didn’t do this part for ‘the story’. At least not the end of the story, the gory bits and pieces that the other news anchors focused on, how the women were brutalised and beaten, changed by a murderer until they looked unrecognisable. You didn’t like to focus on that, because that wasn’t who the victims were. 

You wanted to tell their story. Who they were before something awful happened to them. 

“She loved to dance,” Clara’s mother, Gwen, sniffled, her cheeks sodden with salted tears. Her voice quivered, croaked like it begged not to be used, but the saddest smile spread on her face when she said it, her husband’s hands clasped tightly in her own, “She used to ask to wear her leotard to bed; we couldn't get that thing off her,” 

You smiled, eyes falling to the pictures the parents had spread across the table in their haste to find the best one for the missing posters. Gwen seemed to follow your eyeline and grabbed one in particular, handing it over to you, gently thumbing the edges like that too might disappear. A little girl, black hair as silken as fresh ink stared back at you, her hands poised delicately above her head like the professional ballerina’s you'd seen on TV, her feet laced into pink pumps. The way she should be remembered, not the images you’d seen of her at the crime scene. 

You opened your mouth to speak again when two agents entered the room. Jennifer Jareau, who you’d worked with on multiple stories like this one to give the families the empathy they deserved, smiled at you civilly, somewhat guilty knowing she was stepping on your toes. Beside her stood a taller man in a matching FBI jacket, his hazelnut curls falling over his frown. 

“Mr and Mrs Townsen,” He addressed the couple solemnly, who looked up at him through red rimmed eyes, their sockets sallow and empty, “We need to ask you a few questions about the last few days you saw Clara before she went missing,”

He flashed his credentials in his right hand, long enough for them to see it was real, and looked to you with a stern stare. 

The couple glanced back to you, the picture still grasped tightly in your fingers, as you flicked a tight look between Jennifer and the new agent carefully. 

“Just one moment,” You told the grieving parents softly, handing the picture back to Gwen, standing to move to one side with the analysts, immediately turning towards Jennifer with confusion, “I thought you said I had until twelve?”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” The liaison said cordially, the two of you somewhat acquaintances after emailing back and forth for so long. She liked that you didn’t see the bodies as dollar signs, and you liked that she wanted the same as you; to tell the victims stories the way they should be told. 

Sighing, you wrapped up your notepad, delicately pushing the pen through the wire spine. “Can I get an interview with the second family at least? Daily Press was all over that story, and they made an absolute joke of it,” 

“That’s a little hypocritical of you,” The other agent piped up, and your head snapped to him. Eyes roving over his figure, brows furrowing when you realised what he’d said. You looked back to his face in annoyance. 

“Excuse me?” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest, your notepad brushing against your ribs. 

“I’m just saying, you all get paid for what you write, so it's just as exploitive to write about the victims than it is to write about the crimes,” He shrugged, eyes narrowing when you shifted your weight onto your other foot and raised a brow at him. 

“Unlike you,” Your gaze fell to his badge he still had to hand, “Doctor Reid, I see those women as real people, not just little pictures on a white board. They’re not just dead girls to me, and they’re certainly not just money grabs,” 

Spencer went to retaliate again before JJ put a hand on both your elbows, drawing the attention away from your little spat. 

“We can talk about this later, right now we have an UnSub on the loose that is quickly devolving,” She chided the two of you like you were school children, and you sighed, biting your cheek to stop yourself from snapping back at the man. 

“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, well aware of the grieving parents sitting little more than a few yards from where you stood bickering. 

“It means you’re going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” Spencer cleared, pushing past your shoulder as he went to sit with the Townsens, his eyes swirling into something new and kind and reassuring as he looked at them, a Jekyll and Hyde to the hostility he had towards you. 

You could only suck your teeth in annoyance, before Jennifer pulled you further into the dining room to discuss rearrangements. 

Spencer blanked as he watched you skim reading the textbook, his own words thrown back in his face in an infuriatingly clever move on your part. With little more to say, knowing wit and barking orders would get him nowhere because he couldn’t exactly arrest you for not giving him public property, he resorted to begging.

“Please, give me the book,” He said, the desperation buried in his sigh, and you swivelled on your heels, a devilish grin on your face that had him fighting back an eye roll. 

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m finished,” You said, handing him the files you were reading, passing them over to him with a smirk and he found himself almost smiling at your sarcasm.

Taking the book out of your hand, he debated saying thank you, but instead bit his lip because he'd found you were somewhat incorrigible when you were getting deeper in a story. 

Turning on his heels to check out the book so he could take it back to headquarters, he stopped when you spoke, just a few decibels louder than the ‘Talk Quietly’ sign demanded. 

“Agalmatophilia,” You murmured, and he whipped a look over his shoulders where you were skimming the shelves for a second textbook, seeing as your first one had been commandeered, “The sexual attraction to dolls and mannequins. I know you guys speculated he has some form of OCD but I think it's Agalmatophilia,” You said, drawing a book off the shelf without really looking up to where his brow furrowed in familiarity with the word. He glanced at you then, and you flicked open the page of contents, feeling his eyes boring into the side of your head, muttering under your breath absent-mindedly, “Just a theory,” 

You’d shut him up the entire way back to headquarters. 

[barcaatthemoon]

sick of the sun || katrina gorry x clara markstedt x teen!reader ||

you pass out at practice.

the weather would have been perfect if you weren't playing football. summer breaks were usually never so nice for you. the sun had been shining brightly all day with the temperature steadily rising throughout. you were careful to stay hydrated, but it didn't feel like it was nearly enough. your head had been absolutely pounding for the better part of an hour, and you weren't even halfway through training.

"alright ladies, take a couple of laps, and then we'll head in for film," the coach announced. you let out a big sigh in relief as you stood up. katrina and clara were both behind you in the cluster of teammates. you hated running with the group, so you didn't mind starting a bit faster or earlier to keep ahead. it was better to be early to the film sessions and get a good seat anyway.

you did well to keep ahead for the first lap easily. it was as you neared the midway point for your last one that trouble arose. at first, it was a little stumble. katrina didn't even notice it initially. with clara's head clear above everybody else's she could see the way you started to stumble before you fell down.

clara would have loved to claim getting to you first, but she had just barely been beaten to you by harper. since you had moved in with clara and katrina for the season, you had become like a big sister to the smallest aussie. you loved living with them, it was your favorite part of being at west ham. they treated you like you were one of their own, never letting you forget that you'd always be taken care of.

"harper, baby, i need you to move away from (y/n) for a moment," katrina said as she tried to separate the two of you. instead of letting her come closer, harper started crying as she hugged you tighter. "harper, we need to get her inside. come on, i'll hold your hand and we can stay with her in the trainer's if you'd like."

"not leaving her," harper mumbled sadly through her tears. katrina looked at a loss for what to do. each time that she tried to move the young girl away from you, harper broke into a fit of tears. clara tried her best to comfort katrina, but the swede was terrified for you.

"she's moving." clara nudged katrina, who looked down at you just as your eyes began to open. without warning, clara lunged forward and pulled you into a tight hug. you had no clue what was going on, but you weren't going to push clara away. it was obvious to you that she needed this, and you were more than happy to let her have it. she had comforted you countless times since you had begun staying with them.

"guys, come on, she needs to get to the trainer's," katrina said. you could tell that she didn't want to have to tell them to get off of you, but it was necessary. clara sighed and pulled harper off of you as she got up. katrina helped you onto your feet, and you were comfortably sandwiched between the two older women as they walked you to the trainer's.

there wasn't really anything their tests could pinpoint wrong with you. it was pretty obvious as soon as you got in there that you had been overheated and exhausted. the trainers got you sitting on one of the uncomfortable little check-in benches with an iv of electrolytes and a couple bottles of water. you had to finish all of it before they'd let you head over to the cafeteria for lunch.

"is (y/n) having a baby?" harper asked as she settled comfortably onto your lap. you tried to offer her a drink of one of your waters, but katrina and clara both silently scolded you for it.

"what? no!" you hadn't meant to immediately panic and get a bit flustered, but you felt like that question had come out of nowhere.

"(y/n) isn't having a baby. why do you think she is harps?" katrina asked. she was trying so hard not to laugh as she looked between your panicked expression and clara's very expressive rollercoaster of emotions.

"she's got a tube like clara had at the hospital," harper said as she reached for your iv line. everybody relaxed a bit, but clara honestly looked a bit shaken up even as the four of you made your way to get something to eat.

unsurprisingly, they kept a close eye on you for the rest of day. you were excused from the gym session and sent to look over different strategies. it was boring, and by the end of the two hour gym session, you swore that all of the words were melting together and forming new words. still, you persisted until clara came and got you to get ready to go back home.

"alright ladies, it is nap time!" katrina said dramatically with a clap of her hands. harper started to groan and drag her feet until she saw you very comfortably lay down on the sectional with clara. "are we all aware that we have beds to sleep in?"

"couch naps are, um, chef," clara said proudly. you bit your lip to hold in your laughter, having tried to teach clara some of the slang that you'd been learning on the internet.

"chief, clar, it's chief," you corrected. clara brushed it off, but you could see the pink hue to her cheeks anyway. "just standing over there by yourself and join us. you can lay on the other side of harper."

"alright, fine, but just so i can keep an eye on you." despite katrina's words, you knew that she really did want to join all of you. the couch was decently sized, but it was still a bit cramped. however, you liked to see it as an opportunity for everybody to get in close and cuddle. besides, it wasn't nearly as cramped as it would be if kyra, charli, and macca were there with you. that was like playing human tetris, but you still loved it.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Grouchy

Katrina Gorry x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're not very happy

With Clara taking Harper to kindie, it meant that Katrina could focus on the sobbing baby that refused to settle.

You'd woken up in a foul mood with a sniffly red nose and a persistent cough that had you throwing up so much phlegm that even Harper knew something was wrong with you.

"Okay," Katrina says softly as she gently pats your back to help you clear your throat," How about a bath, huh? Would a bath be good, bubs?"

You screech in answer and try to push her away with your little uncoordinated limbs. You whine loudly when she takes you out of your onesie and slips into the bath behind you.

You usually take your baths with Harper so having Mummy sitting in the bath with you is different and strange. You screech even louder when lukewarm water is gently poured over your body in an attempt to cool you down.

You're overheated and your head is stuffed full of cotton. You try to wiggle away but Mummy's got a firm grip on you.

"You're a little grouch today, huh, bubs?" Katrina says softly when you out a particularly loud cry followed by kicking your little legs in a chance to escape. "What is it? Are you missing Harps? You know she's got kindie now."

You huff a little bit when you don't get free and opt to go limp instead. That relaxes Mummy a bit, you think, because she finally gets up out of the bath and wraps you in one of the towels nearby.

She holds you up at a distance from her as you begin coughing again, shaking her head softly. "Harps gave you a cough, huh?" She coos as she heads back into the living room," I told your Ma that kindie was a bad idea. Look at you, all sick and grouchy."

You huff again after another round of coughs.

"How about we get you a bottle, bubs? Nice, warm bottle of milk."

That's usually enough to stop whatever icky feelings you've got but you just refuse to take it today, turning your head away and forcing the nip out of your mouth whenever Katrina puts it in.

Katrina laughs slightly at your stubbornness and puts the bottle aside. You stare at her with unblinking eyes. You're still visibly sick with your cheeks burning red, bags under your eyes and the way you're taking big deep breaths through your open mouth instead of your nose.

She wipes the snot away and you scrunch your whole face up like you're insulted that she's even touching you.

"Ooh," Katrina coos softly, more than a little endeared at the little faces you're making," You're very grouchy today, bubs. Look at this little pout." She thumbs your bottom lip and you open your mouth.

She knows that this is her chance and she pops the bottle back into your mouth. Your eyebrows scrunch up at being tricked but you don't try to spit it out again while still making sure Mama knows you're angry at her as you stare unblinking up at her.

Katrina just smiles at you. Your little scrunch is just like Harper's and your even tinier hands are scrunched up like you're about to start swinging.

You break away from the bottle to drag in breath and sneeze.

"Oh! That's a big sneeze!"

You sniffle as Mama wipes your nose again and tries to give you the bottle. You refuse again and stick your tongue out and Mama laughs at you.

She's not yet gotten you dressed yet, just put you in your nappy, so you do tummy time like that.

You're not particularly enjoying it though and you make sure your annoyance is known again by letting out your signature screech.

Katrina rolls her eyes but still keeps her smile. You must be feeling pretty bad because you usually love tummy time but you keep smacking your hands on the ground and crying.

"Okay," Mama says as she picks you right back up. You don't settle quickly or easily but you're certainly calmer now that you're back in her arms rather than on your tummy time mat. "What are we going to do, bubs? You're a little funny today."

You grunt and lean against Mama's collarbone.

Katrina can feel the fever still racing through you but it's less hot than earlier. She knew that this sudden wave of sickness came from Harper's first week of kindie when she came home with the sniffles.

It hit you particularly hard because of how much younger you were than Harper and how much she loved you. Every time she went away, she came straight back home with cuddles for you and so many kisses that Katrina and Clara both had to drag her away at times to not overwhelm you.

"Are you just going to stay here? All nice and snuggly, huh?"

You grunt again but don't really do anything else and Mama has to reach down to grab a blanket and wrap it around you. She wipes your runny nose again and goes back into her bedroom.

Mama lies down in her bed and positions you so you're horizontal again. The change makes your eyes droop closed instantly, like suddenly your limbs are all weak and tired.

"That's a good girl, bubs," Mummy says, her voice low and soft as she runs her nails up and down your back softly," I think a little nap is all you need, huh? A nice nap to get this bug out of your system."

A small whine comes out of your mouth when she stops as she leans over to flick on the white noise machine. Her nails resume their gentle patterns though when she notices that you're fighting sleep again.

You drop off soon after, a combination of the soft hum of the machine, Katrina's gentle hands on your back and your general sickness.

She smiles softly at you, gently readjusting you so she can snap a picture to send to Clara. It's not often that she gets private time with you.

Harper's been enamoured with you the moment you were born, stuck to your side like a little shadow while Clara held you like you were surgically attached.

It was nice, sometimes, to just have you all to herself.

Even if you were a little grouchy.

[tardxsblues]

Doctor Who || 9.04 Before the Flood

[rose-pearls]

Hey! Can I req a Clarisse x reader fic? Basically Clarisse gets dared to get reader to fall in love with her, eventually clarisse wins the dare and get's the money but has caught feeings and doesn't want reader to find out it's all been a bet. someone informs reader of the bet. They fight and break it off. Causing clarisse to get super sad and act ooc. At the end Clarisse finds reader during capture the flag or something and they talk it out. Thank you and feel free to make changes!

Thank you so much for your request, I loved writing it!! I had a similar idea the morning I read your request so I had some ideas in my mind but here it is!! Hopefully you like it!

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)

Clarisse knew this was a bad idea, deep down she did, but her pride was stronger than her moral sense in that moment. The Aphrodite cabin was known for their tradition of having to break their first lover’s heart to become an official part of the cabin. She had seen Silena do it just a few days ago and as she sees the poor teenager walking around still heartbroken, she can’t help but snort.

“I can’t believe they are still crying over what happened,” she says, and Silena shoots her a warning look.

“It’s called heartbreak Clarisse, of course it hurts,” but the Ares girl only shakes her head in disbelief. 

“It’s not as easy as it looks to move on after you fell for someone. But you wouldn’t know about that,” Silena looks a bit pissed and maybe that is when Clarisse should’ve stopped herself from running her mouth.

“What does that meant?”, she says, feeling slightly offended at the words of her best friend who sighs.

“I mean that you haven’t had someone in love with you and have to break their heart,” Silena explains softly, and Clarisse feels hurt at the words, but she tries to shove it down.

“I could get someone to fall for me,” she says, and Silena raises her eyebrows before the head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin arrives.

“What are you two talking about?”, she asks, looking curious, and usually Clarisse would bite her head off, but she is too invested in defending her pride.

“About the fact that I could get someone to fall in love with me,” Clarisse says, and Clara’s eyes sparkle at the words while Silena shakes her head.

“Are you willing to bet on it?”, Clara says, and Clarisse sits straighter at the words, it was known that Ares kids never backed down from a dare.

“Of course,” she says, trying to sound as confident as she could. 

“You have two weeks to make someone that we chose fall in love with you, if you manage that I’ll give you the fifty dollars I won from your brother,” she remembers the stupid dare that Brian had lost but she knows that she can win this, and she could use the money.

“Clarisse don’t do this,” Silena says, looking unsure but Clarisse is determined, her pride and reputation was now on the line.

“Who do you choose?”, she hopes secretly that they don’t choose one of the Hephaestus kids, she couldn’t imagine herself faking a love story with one of them, but she knew that Silena knew her well. She just had to wait a few seconds before Clara and Silena finished discussing.

“We chose, the daughter of Poseidon,” your name makes her look up and before she can help it, she lets out a laugh, this would be easier than she thought.

“You are so on,” she says before shaking Clara’s hand and Silena even as the girl looks unsure at the bet.

Clarisse knew you had had a crush on her some time ago, so it would be easy for her to slip right into your life and make you fall for her. The only issue that could possibly make this more difficult was your demon of a half-brother, Percy Jackson.

--

It had been a weird couple of days, Clarisse had started spending more time around you, talking to you and seemingly trying to get closer to you. Because of that you couldn’t help but feel flustered and wonder if that stupid crush on her really went away or it was still there after two years. 

Percy hadn’t seemed too happy with the fact that the Ares girl was getting closer to you, often staying close to you when usually he would run of to spend time with Annabeth and Grover.

“Percy, for the last time I will be fine going to the lake alone, I’m a grown woman,” you say, trying not to get frustrated at the worried boy, he had promised Annabeth and Grover that they would spend the day together, but he now wanted to come with you to the lake to ‘protect’ you.

“Fine, but if you need anything scream and I’ll be there,” he says, and you smile softly at your brother.

“I will, now go and enjoy your time with Annabeth and Grover,” you tell him before ruffling his hair, enjoying the way he squeals before trying to get his curls back in place.

Luckily for you no one is at the lake, which gives you the opportunity to sit down with your feet in the water. Water had always brought you peace and when Poseidon claimed you, you knew why.

“Managed to get rid of your guard dog?”, someone says behind you, and you turn around to find Clarisse with a smirk, making you blush softly.

“Percy isn’t a guard dog, and he is enjoying a day of rock-climbing with Annabeth and Grover,” you say, wondering why you would say all that to her when the girl probably doesn’t care about it.

“That’s nice, but nicer for me, means I can have some alone time with his big sister,” she says, and you can’t help but clear your throat at the words, a dark blush making his way on your cheeks. Gods, this girl could throw you into a loop.

“Really? And why would you want to spend some alone time with me?”, you can’t help but ask, for the hundredth time wondering why the Ares girl had taken a sudden interest in you. She looks unsure for a moment before letting out a sigh and getting a bit closer to you.

“It’s a bit awkward to flirt with you when he is there and I would prefer to have you all to myself when asking you out on a date,” she says the words like she is just reciting a list of things she needs from the grocery stores, with an easy smile. It’s as if she doesn’t realize how the words affect you, your heart beating so hard you’re afraid it will beat out of your chest. The water at your feet moves a bit faster, as if the waves follow the erratic beating of your heart. 

“You want to ask me out on a date?”, you manage to say, and she nods after a moment, a small smile on her lips, it looks tense but maybe it’s just because she is worried that you will say no. 

“Why?”, you can’t help but choke out, and the Ares girl looks surprised at the words, her eyes widening.

“Why not? You’re a beautiful girl and probably one of the sweetest even to Ares kids and I’ve enjoyed our conversations in the past few days,” she says, and you can’t help but try and read her expressions but there is only some kind of nervousness.

“Okay,” you say, watching her eyes sparkle in surprise at your sudden answer.

“Okay as in?”

“As in, I’ll go on a date with you,” you say, trying to hide your nervousness but you can’t help it, this woman makes you lose all your common sense. There is a sharklike grin that appears on her lips and as she comes closer to you, you can’t help but feel breathless at the sight of her brown eyes.

“What do you say we go on that date now, before your guard dog comes back?”, you don’t bother telling her that Percy isn’t your guard dog, and even if you had wanted to do it you wouldn’t have been able to when you feel her brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sure, I’m free all day long,” you don’t need to say more before the Ares girl gets up and gives you her hand to help you get up from the water, it looks rowdier than before, but you suppose it’s because of your nervousness.

You expect her to bring you to the training ground, after all it’s where all the Ares kids feel more at home, but you’re surprised as she brings you further away into the forest. 

“You know I’m starting to think you are going to kill me somewhere deep in the forest,” you say in a teasing voice and Clarisse scoffs in answer but there is a smile on her lips, making your stomach flutters.

“Please if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve already done it,” she says it with such ease that you don’t know if you feel scared or attracted to her.

The both of you finally arrive to a small clearing in the woods, it seems hidden from the rest of the world but there are a couple of flowers growing around it and you can’t hear the loud noises of camp, only the birds.

“This is beautiful,” you can’t help but say as you look around, smiling at the rose bushes.

“Nearly as beautiful as you,” she says, with such smoothness that you nearly face plant into one of the rose bushes.

“Gods, Clarisse warn someone before you say that” you can’t help but say with a dark blush once again on your cheeks but the Ares girl just smirks.

“Now where is the fun in that,” she says with a soft voice before coming closer to you and brushing another strand of your hair away. 

She is so close to you, that you can see the small golden flecks in her brown eyes and for a moment you wonder what is happening before you feel her soft lips on yours. You don’t even have time to respond before she pulls away slowly, there is something in her eyes that you can’t decipher.

“Is this okay?” she asks, in a soft voice that you haven’t heard a lot before today and instead of answering her you bring her back into a kiss, enjoying her smile against your lips.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire as she brushes her hand against your cheeks, holding it softly and your stomach is erupting in butterflies at the kisses of the Ares girl, who seems to know what she is doing because that woman can kiss. The both of you only stop kissing each other when there is a need for air, and you can’t stop the big smile from appearing on your lips before she takes your hand and brings you slowly on the ground. You both look at each other for a moment, chests heaving from kissing each other and as Clarisse comes closer to kiss you again you put your finger on her lips with a teasing smile.

“As much as I like kissing you and trust me, I do. I also want to get to know you,” she seems surprised at your words and for a moment you wonder if you said something wrong before a soft smile appears. 

“What do you want to know?”, she asks, looking a bit shy for a moment but you just smile in reassurance.

“Everything, just tell me about yourself,” she takes a deep breath before laying back down next to you, this time closer and you turn on your side to be able to look at her.

“I’ll guess I’ll start with-”

You spend the entire afternoon there, just talking the two of you, about your lives before camp and about your godly parents. You haven’t felt this good in a long time, like you had finally found your safe space. There was also a side of Clarisse that you had never seen before, a scared girl who had always been scared of what her father would think of her and how she couldn’t just be herself with others, she needed a guard up.

“You can always be yourself when you’re with me, you don’t need to keep that guard up,” you tell her softly and she looks at you with eyes filled with sadness and you take her hand to try and reassure her.

“You will leave one day,” she says, like she already knows how your story will end but you shake your head in disagreement.

“I won’t, I know we haven’t known each other for such a long time but I will always be there in your corner Clarisse. I’m not leaving anytime soon,” you tell her, and she looks pained at the words, like you are stabbing her with a knife. 

“Thank you,” she manages to whisper before bringing you into a sweet kiss.

--

The both of you had agreed to keep this quiet, or at least for the time being as Percy didn’t seem to like the Ares girl and you wanted to ease him into it. Clarisse had just wanted to tell Silena and unbeknownst to you also Clara who had looked like she had swallowed a lemon when Clarisse had told her the both of you were now dating.

“You can still put an end to it now,” Silena says after a moment and Clarisse looks at her in surprise.

“It will all be fine, I’ll get her to fall in love with me and then just break up,” she says it like it’s the simple’s thing in the world and ignores her best friend’s worried look, but mostly she tries to forget how good it felt to be with you.

She makes an effort to try and see you every day, thinking it will bring her to her goal faster, but it only makes her heart beat faster and think of you more often than before. She tried to push it all down, the feelings coming up when you would brush a strand of her hair or look at her with worried eyes when she hurt herself. It was difficult not to try and kiss you every time she saw you, it was like she got addicted to you.

Deep down she knows that Silena was right, and that it would’ve been easier to stop it sooner, but she couldn’t stop now, not when her pride was still on the line. Secretly she also knew she didn’t want to stop this and not be able to spend time with you.

“She is getting better,” Silena says next to her, and Clarisse jumps at her best friend’s voice, before turning back to you with a blush on her cheeks.

You had been sword fighting with Percy, you called it your bonding time, and she can’t help but smile as the two of you start teasing each other.

“She is,” she says and takes a moment to turn back to her friend, only to find her with a knowing look.

“You like her,” Silena says, like she is just saying that the sky is blue and not that Clarisse could like a person.

“I don’t!”, she quickly says, trying to stop the embarrassing blush that appeared on her lips, but Silena sends her a pointed look.

“It’s okay if you do, maybe if you tell her now, she won’t be as angry,” she says carefully, like she is scared that Clarisse will get mad at her words.

“I’m not telling her, I need to win this bet,” she says, feeling determined even if there is a bad feeling that she tries to squash down.

“Even if it means losing her and what you have or could have?”, the question is painful, Silena knows it too, she has always known her better than herself. 

“Love has never been in the cards for me, and it won’t,” as a daughter of Ares she knew that her father would see her as even weaker if she fell in love with someone and she couldn’t have that.

--

She closes her eyes as she feels your hand running through her hair, there is still water sticking to your chest, like it belongs there but she doesn’t mind, enjoying the warmth coming from your chest and the sun. 

The two of you had managed to sneak away from camp, the sun was coming up and camp-half-blood would be waking up any minute now, but she couldn’t get herself to get up. You were telling her another story about Annabeth and Percy and how you thought your brother was an oblivious idiot, making her snort in laughter.

“There is a reason why she calls him seaweed brain, princess,” she says, and she enjoys your laughter at her answer.

“We are going to have to leave soon,” she knows you don’t want to; she can hear your regret and she feels it too, wanting to stay here for a moment longer and enjoying this moment away from reality where she can just pretend the two of you are together. Clarisse had been doing it far too often recently, pretending like there isn’t a bet hanging above your heads and that she is just with you. 

“I don’t want to leave,” she says with a whine before lifting her head from your chest and looking at you with a pout.

You have that beautiful smile on your lips that makes her heart flutter, Silena called it your ‘Clarisse’ smile, but she had ignored her, only letting herself smile at the words in the darkness of the night.

“Gods, I love you,” she hears you say and freezes. 

The words make her heart beat faster, the fact that you seemed to love her makes her feel weak in the knees, wanting to hear you say it again and again. But at the same time, she wants you to take it back, because it means that she won her bet and that your time together is coming to an end. She knows that she looks like a fish out of the water, her mouth opening and closing while her mind races.

She nearly says it back, but she stops herself. She couldn’t be in love with you, she had always told herself she wouldn’t do it but as she looks at your sparkling eyes and loving smile she wants to scream it at the top of her lungs.

“It’s okay if you don’t say it back right now, take your time,” you say with an understanding smile, and Clarisse feels like the worst person on the planet at that moment.

“Thank you,” she barely manages to say, and you smile softly before kissing her quickly on the mouth, probably to say goodbye to go back to your cabin but she deepens it, wanting it to last in case it’s the last one she gets.

Clara and Silena are talking when she drops in front of them, she doesn’t feel as happy as she thought she would be, winning the bet.

“She told me she loved me,” Clarisse says, and both girls look at her in surprise, Clara curses softly under her breath but Silena only looks at her with a worried look. Maybe she can see how painful it is right now, no matter how hard she tries to push the guilt down.

“There you go, congratulations on wining the bet, didn’t think you could make the Poseidon girl fall in love with you” Clara says, and Clarisse takes the money slowly, like it will catch on fire and burn her for what she did, but it doesn’t. 

“The bet. We don’t talk about it to anyone this stays buried,” Clarisse says, she doesn’t want anyone to find out, maybe if she pushed it away and ignored it you wouldn’t ever learn of it, and she could still enjoy your time together. 

If only she had watched who had been around her through the exchange.

--

She finds you at the lake, a smile immediately appears on her lips as she finds you sitting in front of the water. But as you lift your head up, tear tracks on your cheeks she feels her blood run colds. She is ready to turn back and find whoever hurt you, to get revenge for you but she can only stumble towards you, you were her priority.

“Hey, princess, what happened?”, she says and as she tries to get closer to you, you turn away from her hands, making her frown.

“Don’t call me that,” you whisper, a cold tone to your voice that she has never heard before.

Before she can say anything, you turn back towards her with a cold look, the water starts moving faster.

“Was it worth it?”, you whisper, tears in your eyes and Clarisse feels confused for a moment, wondering what you mean.

“Was it worth it the bet you made?”, your words make her stumble and as she tries to form a sentence you shake your head. 

“I can’t believe this; I can’t believe this all was a bet and I thought this was real. I’m such an idiot,” she hears you whisper while getting closer to the water, Clarisse tries to get her legs to work again but she is trembling from the fact that you knew.

“Please, just let me explain,” she says, trying to get her thoughts back together, but the only thing she can think about is the fact that she is losing you, that you could be slipping away from her. You let out a scoff before a cold laugh leaves your lips, making her shiver. 

“Really? How can you possibly explain this Clarisse?”, she doesn’t know how she can, the only thing she knows is that she can’t lose you, she tried not to think about it too much, but she knew she had fallen over you over the last few weeks. Silena’s words were really biting her back in the ass.

“I know it looks bad and in the beginning it’s true that I didn’t feel anything for you,” she hears you scoff in disbelief, but she doesn’t want to give up.

“But it all changed when I got to know you, when we spent time together, you have to believe me,” she says, and she hopes that you will believe her, that somehow you would look at her again with that loving smile.

“How can I? When everything we had was based on a lie!”, you yell and Clarisse flinches, she has never heard you this angry or hurt before and the water seemed to follow your anger as it started getting rowdy.

“Please, just-”, she tries to talk but you shake your head.

“Don’t! Just leave me alone, I don’t ever want to see you again,” you tell her, and she feels like someone has just ripped her heart from her chest. She tries to get closer to you, but the water forms a wall behind you, and she knows that if she doesn’t leave she will end up getting thrown back. 

There are tears falling down her cheeks and she doesn’t want to leave you, she wants to go back to that morning and tell you that she loves you back, maybe it would have made this all better. 

“You told me you would always be there for me,” Clarisse whispers and you shake your head sadly, like she is just hurting you on purpose.

“Leave Clarisse,” you say, and she feels her heart breaking at the pain in your voice.

“I’ll always be there for you, and I won’t stop fighting for us,” Clarisse says but you ignore her, your back shaking from sobs you barely contain, and Clarisse wants to yell and throw something, but she leaves, like you asked her. It’s the hardest thing she ever had to do, and as she turns back, she finds Percy holding you in his arms as the water is lapping at both of your feet. 

She tries to get her anger out on the training dummy but when she starts feeling the rain pouring down on her she can only let out the shaky breath she was holding and falling to her knees, tears falling down her cheeks. And for the first time in a long time, she lets herself cry, moments of the both of you flashing before her eyes.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there on her knees in the rain until Silena manages to make her move, the Aphrodite cabin is quiet, and she only realizes a few minutes later that no one is there.

“She knows, she found out,” Silena lets out a sigh before putting a blanket over her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry Clarisse,” she whispers trying to warm her up, but Clarisse shakes her head.

“Don’t be it was my fault; I knew it was a bad idea. I should’ve listened to you,” she says, she knew she shouldn’t have taken the bet but at the same time it got her you, even for just a moment and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Try to win her back, show her you love her,” Clarisse looks at Silena in surprise, but she has a knowing smile.

“Don’t you dare give up,” her best friend says and Clarisse nods quickly, she will do anything she needs to do to win you back.

--

As much as she hates Percy Jackson, she has to admit he is a good brother, he had managed to block every attempt she had made to talk to you or get close to you, glaring at her with all his might.

“Please Luke, just keep him busy for one hour,” she begs, ignoring Luke’s surprised look, hoping that the Hermes boy will do it.

“Alright I will, but you better make it right,” Luke warns her, and she quickly nods in agreement, already planning what she was going to say to you.

The day Luke finally manages to get Percy away with you is a sunny one, and as she gets closer to the Poseidon cabin, she feels nervous at the thought of seeing you again. She knocks on the door, trying to get herself together.

“Come in,” she hears you yell and as she opens the door, she finally sees you for the first time in a week. 

You still look as breathtakingly beautiful as before and she takes in the small details that changed. You look surprised at the sight of her and for a moment Clarisse feels breathless but as you look at her with raised eyebrows, she knows she needs to talk and fast.

“I brought these for you,” Clarisse says, giving you the roses, she had convinced the children of Demeter to grow. You look at her with surprised eyes before taking them after a few seconds of looking at them.

“Thank you,” you say softly, and your voice makes her heart beat faster.

“Can we talk?”, she asks, and you nod slowly, showing her the soft chair there was in the corner.

“I know you probably didn’t want to see me, but I just needed to speak with you,” she says trying to find the confidence that she usually had but she couldn’t find it.

“The bet was a bad idea, I know that, but I guess that my pride was more important at that moment. I started talking with you, and getting to know you and suddenly the bet was just an excuse to spend time with you,” you look pained at the words, but you don’t stop her, which she is grateful for.

“And then we kissed, and I never felt like that before, with anyone. You made me want to be a better person, you gave me hope and showed me that there is so much more to life than just pride and reputation. Along the way I did fell for you, even if at first, I didn’t want to believe I did,” you take a deep breath at the words and Clarisse feels her hands getting shakier, but she continues.

“The bet was the worst thing I could do to you but it’s also the best thing I ever accepted because it brought me you and showed me how important you are to me. If I could I would do it all over again without the bet, but I can’t. And you have every right to tell me to get lost and never want to see me again, but I just needed to tell you that I love you and I did from through all the moments we shared together,” there are tears falling down your cheeks and she knows that she is crying to.

“I wanted to hate you so much you know?”, she knows, even though it hurts to hear you say it, she knows that you should hate her for what she did.

“But I can’t hate you, no matter how hard I try I can’t. I just want to be near you and hold you and spent time together, like we used to before all of this,” the confession makes her heart beat faster, hope filling her whole being.

“I know I don’t deserve this, but could you give me a second chance? To prove to you that I was being real and that it wasn’t all just a bet,” you look unsure, like you are fighting against yourself. 

“You have one chance. Don’t make me regret giving it to you,” you tell her, and she quickly nods, a feeling of relief filling her up.

“I will never make you regret this; I will show you just how much I love you every single moment I get,” she says, and she enjoys the shy smile that appears on your lips and the blush coating your cheeks at the words.

“There is only one thing you will have to overcome first,” you say with a grimace but there is a sparkle of mischief in your eyes.

“What is it?”, she asks, ready to fight anything that comes in the way.

“Me,” she hears someone say, only to find Percy Jackson looking at her with a sharklike grin and his sword in his hand.

And that is how Clarisse finds herself having to fight Percy Jackson for the honor of dating his sister. But she would do it over and over again if it means seeing you smile like that.

[wosoamazing]

Olympics

KCC x R

Warnings: None?

Notes: I'm not sure I really like this but yeah... It's been sitting in my drafts for a while. Someone requested more Kyra so this came about, sorry it's only short.... 753 words

You sat next to Katie, who was wearing the shirt Caitlin wore when they versed each other for their first game at the world cup, you on the other hand wore the shirt Kyra had worn when you versed each other in the semi-finals of the world cup. You’d told Kyra you couldn’t come to Paris and watch her because you had rehab, which she was upset about but she understood, however you’d worked out a plan with Arsenal which meant you could go, which was a relief considering the amount of setbacks you’d had in your rehab.

-

“I don’t think she’s noticed you’re here,” Mini laughed as you handed Koby over to her, having taken him when Clara went to the bathroom, just before the end of the match.

“Not surprising honestly,” you admitted. The girl was quite clueless to her surroundings, something she really needed to work on. Steph however had noticed you and she smiled at you before mouthing ‘I’ll get her don’t worry,’ and you nodded back.

—

“Kyra, do you know who Mini is talking to?” Steph asked the younger aussie.

“Huh, what?” she replied as she looked over, quickly doing a double take, before she was sprinting over to you.

—

She wrapped her arms around you before placing a quick kiss on your lips, only pulling away slightly so there wasn’t much room between you both.

“Hi Ky,” you said nonchalantly as she tried to catch her breath.

“You’re here?” she questioned.

“I was always coming. I just wanted to surprise you,” you watched as a smile grew on her face, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied before hugging you tighter, “what about your ankle?” she murmured into your neck.

“It’s fine, Arsenal approved it, said the break might be good, I’m still doing some exercises though,” you told her, wanting the subject to be dropped, your ankle having been the vane of your existence lately, after surgery you had a cast on, which then was later swapped out for a boot, which you were meant to have gotten rid of four weeks ago, and technically you did get rid of it, however it wasn’t for the right reasons but for all the wrong ones, you’d ended up in a more supportive and taller boot.

You walked beside Charli through the streets of Marseille, Harper was beside you, holding onto your hand tightly as she skipped happily down the street. Mini, Clara, Kyra, Steph and some of the others walking behind you.

“I sit on your shoulders?” Harper asked as she tugged on your hand and you nodded before picking her up, and putting her on your shoulders.

“I tall,” Harper exclaimed as she patted your head.

“You are,” Mini chuckled, pulling out her phone, to take a photo.

“Taller than Kyra,” you exclaimed dramatically, earning a giggle from the small girl.

“You did everything you could babe, it’s not your fault that you didn’t have a striker playing and there isn’t anything you could’ve done to fix that. You played really well and you’re a good player, don’t let this result or what anyone else says make you think otherwise,” you told her before placing a kiss on her head, which was resting on your shoulder, as you waited for the plane to take off. You knew she was taking this knock-out hard and ultimately it wasn’t her fault, just some poor choices of tactics and game play.

“I know, I just, it’s hard,”

“I understand that, but to be honest, the fact you got to the olympics is amazing, I mean GB didn’t, Netherlands and Sweden didn’t” you felt her nod against your shoulder, “why don’t you get some sleep? Maybe when we get home we could order in and have a movie night, does that sound good?”

“Please,” she replied before a yawn escaped her mouth and you both settled in for the trip, both falling asleep only minutes after takeoff.

-

“Katie did you have to post that? Now all the fans will know,” you complained as you clicked on the notification she’d tagged you in a post, it being a photo of you and Kyra walking down the street ahead of everyone, holding hands as you both looked at each other softly.

“Have you not seen the TikToks? They already know,” Caitlin stated before continuing due to the blank look on both your faces “the kiss, at the game,”

“Shit,” you and Kyra both said simultaneously as you looked at each other.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  LINES OF YOUR HANDS

SUMMARY : dean tries being seductive in a Santa suit… and it works, surprisingly. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, on the kitchen table, Santa suit kink, nude photography, breeding kink, jerking off, cum play

WORD COUNT : 2.3k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — (Santa) suit kink and nude photography. this was cute to me, idk ‘bout y’all, like yeah, the sex, but Dean’s so cute in my imagination (and in the show). had clara oswald and danny pink in mind for this one, lmao XXX

“Merry Christmas, my love!” Dean exclaimed from the doorway of the kitchen. His girlfriend turned around, distractedly biting off the arm of a gingerbread man. 

“You could’ve at least picked something sexy,” she snorted, turning away from him to bite the other arm of her gingerbread man. Dean pouted and made his way to her unenthusiastically. 

“Well, guess what I’m wearing underneath,” he proposed excitedly with his hands on his hips. She didn’t turn around to look at him this time. 

“Uh… your Scooby-Doo boxers?” She asked, grinning at the space in front of her before taking a bite of a gingerbread cookie’s leg. She knew that would make Dean whine more. “One of the hundred of black t-shirts you own, and uh… those ‘send noods’ socks, my fave,” she continued with a dreamy laugh. Dean sputtered. 

“No,” he pouted adorably. She shrugged, mouth full, drinking warm coconut milk to help the cookie go down. Defeated, Dean’s frown deepened. “Nothing,” he whined, then stomped over to her, hoping she’d look at him. “Come on, admit it’s sexy,” he smiled cheekily, sitting on the table next to the small plate with crumbs and a gingerbread man that no longer had arms and legs. 

She sighed playfully and then leaned back, eyes trailing from the top of his cute head to the bottom of his hot legs. She checked him out once more, contemplating his appearance: she stared at his thighs, the tent in the red, fluffy trousers, the tightness of the suit on him, the little bit of skin showing at his neck, the floppy red and white hat on top of his head.

She tried to give him what he wanted, to see the sexiness in his costume. But… she couldn’t help it, she smiled brightly at him. He was too damn adorable. 

“Oh, come on!” He whined, then hastily undid the black belt around his waist, letting the coat fall open. She held her breath as she watched him, her eyes glued to his taut, hot body, and his warm, freckled skin. He bit his lip, and pulled his pants down to release his cock, and slowly started to jerk himself off. 

That did it for her. Her stomach flipped and her pussy clenched, warmth spread over her face, her stomach, her cunt. She released a shaky breath as a wave of dampness ruined her underwear almost instantly. 

Squeezing her thighs, she fumbled and checked her pockets for her phone to take a picture. Maybe a lot more than one. This was so hot and definitely worth being kept in the hidden photo album of explicit photos and videos of her and Dean. 

When he saw it in her hands, he stopped touching himself and reached for the phone, but she snatched it away before he could snatch it away.

“Hey!” He complained. He thought she was going to ignore him and scroll through her phone instead.

“Shut up,” she grunted, which made his mouth shut instantly, “I’m trying to eat my gingerbread man and you want to seduce me… now deal with the fact that it worked.”

“You’re torturing the little man,” he stared down at the gingerbread man with an exaggerated frown. “But, hey, I ain’t complainin’ if you wanna take a few videos of me right now,” he grinned, going right back at it. “Did ya name him?” He asked, running his thumb over the tip of his leaking cock. 

“Patrick,” she laughed softly, then stood up to find the perfect angle. It didn’t matter though, he looked good from all angles. She snapped a photo, kept tapping and tapping the red button to get as many as she could. Data storage be damned. 

“Want some more frosting on Patrick?” He jested, but she was actually contemplating his offer. He cursed softly and watched her with hooded eyes. 

She leaned down to collect the beads of precum at his tip with her tongue which made his body tense up, a loud moan erupting from his throat. She reached over and took a bite of her cookie, mixing the sweet and tangy flavour of her two favourite things. “Yummy,” she snickered, staring straight at Dean. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, licking his lips. 

“Maybe when you’ve got another load, you’re cumming inside me first.” She pushed her cup and the headless cookie to the far end of the table, close to the wall. “Fuck, actually… should I take a picture of you cumming on your hand first?” She stopped in the middle of lifting her shirt up, staring at him as he slowed the pace of his movements to stop his orgasm. 

“No, later,” he decided for her, “please, get up here and ride me.” He begged, then shifted on the table to lie on his back, aware of the plate and cup she pushed against the wall when he placed the Santa hat with them. She snickered and lifted the top over her head. She wore no bra this morning and the sight of her  breasts made him moan softly. 

“Comfortable?” She asked, kicking her slippers off and then slid her leggings and underwear down in one swift pull. 

“Just get up here,” he told her impatiently, reaching down to tug at his balls instead of jerking himself off. She laughed again and did as he asked. She climbed up the chair, made her way onto the table, and then sat on his lap, taking his hard cock in her hand. 

“How are you making this work?” She teased, biting her lip, slowly stroking from base to tip. He instantly grabbed her hips, his red lips parted to release quick breaths as he brought her forward over his erect cock.

He shrugged, biting his lip and smiling cutely. “Please,” he begged again, urging her to take him. She playfully, teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, and stared down at him mischievously.

“Sam’s gonna get mad that we fucked on the table.” He knew she was stalling on purpose, getting him riled up. Her intentions were clearer when she reached for her phone again, and took a couple photos of his cock in her hand. 

She stopped stroking his cock to focus on taking more photos. It frustrated him and he groaned, reaching between her legs. While she treated him like a sex model, leaning back in his lap to capture him at the best angle with her phone, he separated her folds and brushed his thumb against her clit. 

His cock twitched when he brought two of his fingers to her entrance and an insane amount of slick met his fingertips. “Wow, it’s really workin’,” he chuckled, smiling up at her smugly. She rolled her eyes, lips parting when he pushed two fingers into her, meeting no resistance. “Please tell me you’re done, I wanna be inside you and feel all of this… wrapped around my dick,” he mumbled, pushing a third finger into her, then spread them apart inside her. 

“Oh… fuck, Dean!” She moaned in surprise. Her phone tumbled out of her hand and rattled on the floor, but it didn’t break. She slammed both hands on his chest as her thighs shook on either side of his body as his fingers curled against the front of her walls. 

“It’s Santa now,” he teased, pulling his soaked fingers out of her fluttering pussy to wrap it around his cock. She barely composed herself when he bucked his hips upwards, thrusting his cock into her swiftly. 

She cried out again and buried her face into his neck, making a tight fist with both hands clenching around the red and white Santa jacket he wore. She moaned softly when he rolled his hips gently, soothing the amazing stretch of her cunt around him. 

“Shit.. that was way too easy, babe,” he gasped, giving her ass a gentle swat. “You okay?” He murmured, kissing her temple. She nodded, her pussy fluttering needily around his cock. “Well…” he paused for a moment, reaching up to move her hair to one side, then lifted her mouth up to his. “What do you want for Christmas, sweetheart?” He mumbled against her lips, giving her a few loving pecks. 

She kissed him lewdly, licking across his sugary lips and into his minty mouth with a hum. With a smirk, she replied, “a baby.” 

His grip on her hair tightened and his cock twitched inside her. He pulled her off him with a sharp tug of her hair and stared at her face, stunned and aroused. “Don’t ask for something if you’re not serious about it…” he murmured, planting his black-leather-boot clad feet on the table.

“Who said I wasn’t serious?” She asked, placing her arm beside his head and laying her palm flat over his toned stomach. 

“That shit-eating grin on your fuckable face.” Before she could get out a reply, Dean began to piston his hips up into her, clasping both hands on her hips roughly to keep her from moving. 

With a surprised moan she pressed her forehead into her arm and wrapped her hand around one of Dean’s wrists, above his watch. 

She panted heavily into his ear, occasionally moaning encouragements that made him fuck her harder. Her clit slapped delightfully against his pelvis with each thrust and upward grind. He focused on chasing her pleasure more than his own, angling her hips so he could press his cock into the front of her pussy, brushing repeatedly over her sweet spots. 

“You want a baby?” He asked breathlessly, cock throbbing inside her velvety walls. He could feel her getting as close to her orgasm as he was, and continued to grind up against her after every thrust to stimulate her clit. “I’ll give you a baby,” he growled, latching his lips to her pulse. 

With a sharp thrust and a hard bite, he came inside her with a grunt of her name against her neck. Hot cum pooled inside her and triggered her own orgasm. With a shuddering moan of Dean’s name, she took Dean's face lovingly into her hands and kissed him as he helped her ride out her orgasm. 

Her kiss-swollen lips moved across his jaw, down his flushed neck and chest as they attempted to catch their breaths. Dean pulled her closer, his warm hands squeezing his favourite parts of her body that he could reach. Barely having caught their breaths, he mumbled, “I believe you need to let me eat your cookie now that I’ve delivered your gift. Santa’s gotta get a reward,” against her flushed cheek.

She moved away from his mouth and lifted a brow at the playful grin he gave her. “Do not call my vagina a cookie ever again,” she giggled, pushing up off his chest. Except he pulled her back down with his fingers around the back of her neck to peck her lips, once, then twice.

“Babe, please, I’m trying to be in the Christmas spirit,” he reasoned playfully with a nod, dimples on display with his puckered lips. He slid his hands down the curve of her back and stopped just shy of her ass, calloused hands caressing her soft skin.

She eyed him suspiciously and then dropped a lingering kiss on his forehead for cuteness. “Okay, I’ll let it slide… this time,” she smiled, then dropped doting kisses over his cheeks and nose. 

“Right, but you have no problem with me referring to myself as Santa, hmm?” He muttered, feigning disappointment. Mischievously, she stopped her kisses before she could get to his mouth, hovering over his lips after kissing the corner of his mouth. 

She pulled away as he waited for her kiss with a very subtle pucker of his lips and then, he had the audacity to pout again. “Be happy that I fucked you in this ridiculous costume at all,” she frowned, but her bright and amused eyes betrayed her serious face. 

“This costume is not ridiculous, okay? You’re ridiculous…” he scoffed, moving his hands away from her hips to cross them over his chest defensively.

She bit back a smile and slid off his soft dick, which made him reach out for her to return with his lips parted to ask her to come back. Instead, she took his hands to balance herself as she climbed off the table and took her phone off the floor, his cum already starting to dribble out of her pussy.

She squeezed her legs together as she unlocked her cellphone to study the photos she took of Dean. “I’m gonna get these framed… or.. I’m making my own porn magazine with photos of you naked.. yeah, that’s a great idea,” she spoke to herself thoughtfully. 

Dean blindly grabbed for the Santa hat, lifted his pants up, and slid off the table to wrap his arms around his naked girlfriend. He put the hat back on and dropped his chin on her shoulder to gaze at her phone.  

“Only if you do the same for me,” he proposed bashfully, then slowly started moving his hands down between her legs. She smiled and parted her legs for him, but she didn’t expect him to send a slap over her sensitive clit.

He must have expected her reaction because he released her immediately and backed away when she jumped with a shout and turned to face him swiftly. She glared at him and walked towards him until the metal counter hit his back. 

He licked his lip, trying to lean casually against the counter with his green eyes shining bright like shiny ornaments on a Christmas tree. He swallowed excitedly and smiled at her flirtatiously—that stupid smile he gave women when he tried picking them up or to get information out of them. 

“I’m tying you up with the Christmas lights for that,” she threatened seductively, pressing herself up against his taut body. He bit his lip and carefully moved his hands to her ass to keep her close, then squeezed. 

“Really?” 

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[the-californicationist]

Troubleshooting

For @glitterypirateduck's super fun Oh, Captain! challenge. This is for prompt #8 where our deceptive captain tries to hide a secret from his gunsmith.

She could smell him long before she saw his hulking form stop in front of her office door. The sweet scent of his signature Romeo y Julieta cigars gave him away; a jewel from Villa Clara, Cuba. The tight-rolled tobacco smoldered amber and gold in the dark, its rustic funk and black licorice smoke gently curling out of his parted lips, trapped under his dirty boonie hat.  

When she had been assigned to his team, she’d been dreading the constant relocating and high profile secrecy. It was hard enough to find 5.56 ammo for that mouthy Scot’s Steyr bullpup, much less have it delivered to a black site without a postcode. But, as she let her eyes wander up his mountainous shoulders, tracing the outline of a sharp, scruffy Adam’s apple, watching as his jaw rippled and clenched to bite down on the soft end of his cigar, she admitted to herself that she could deal with a few shipping delays as long as she got to enjoy John Price. Now, just a few weeks into this roughshod operation, she ached to see what lurked under all that gear. 

She cleaned up her station, carefully screwing on the cap to her powder and putting it under the workbench. When he spoke, it was always confident but soft, like a stage whisper, words only she was meant to hear. 

“Smithy,” he took a long drag from his Cuban and pulled the creamy smoke in through his nose, a very casual French inhale, breathing it out and down sharply, purposefully avoiding her face.

He’d never called her by her name, only by his clipped version of her title of Chief Gunsmith. She knew he must be aware of it since he requested her transfer, but she had always been “Smithy” to him. 

“Captain, how are we this evening?” She gazed into his eyes with intent, hoping he would see her desire in them and be pleased. 

“We’re alright,” he took the cigar from his mouth and let it rest between his fingers, smiling down at her as he loomed, his height making her feel small. He removed his hat, placing it on her bench before leaning against the table, his huge hand spreading wide across the stainless surface. He continued,

“You know, this M4 has been giving me a bit of trouble. I cleaned it, but even after a full breakdown, the bolt isn’t sitting flush. Think you could help me get it all the way in?”

She let his quiet rumbling voice wash over her like a wave, lapping at her mind and making her breath catch in her chest. The double entendre was so obvious as to almost be in jest, but his suggestive tone - though subtle - was enough for her to believe in it. 

“Did you use enough oil? A little lubricant goes a long way, Captain, but some parts need more than others. Especially if it was a vigorous cleaning,” she threw him a bone in hopes he would bite it. 

He did, replying with a sly smile,

“Perhaps I went a little rough with her. Think you can take a look?”

He licked his lips, watching as the flush tinted her neck and cheeks, hungry for her attention. She watched him shift his weight, rocking forward towards the bench, flexing his hips. Obviously, she was getting to him. She turned up the heat, pushing her luck,

“Rough is just fine, John, but with the size of the bolt head you’ve got here, you just need to make sure she’s slick enough to take it.”

She smiled sweetly, taking the rifle from him and laying it across the bench. Now that she had turned her attention to the gun, she could only watch him from the corner of her eye. But, she knew she had landed a punch when he had to turn his head away from her and pull at the inside leg of his pants, adjusting. 

Then, as she took apart the barrel from the bolt and its lever, she realized he had been lying to her. He had replaced the trigger assembly before the bolt, effectively causing the problem he was asking her to solve. Price knew this gun better than the back of his own hand, and he had come down to her office with this game, hoping to score. 

Her heart raced when she discovered the error, and she tried her best to maintain a straight face, not wanting him to realize she’d caught him yet. She still wanted to play. 

She rebuilt the weapon, glossing over the false mistake, and pulled the bolt back flush. 

“There,” she sighed, “good as new.”

The ball was clearly in his court and she waited to see what he would do. His voice had dropped into a deep, threatening register, and he was leaning so far over the workbench that she could see his pupils dilate, pushing back the bright blue and revealing the blackness behind it,

“What was the problem, Smithy?”

He began to stalk her around the edge of the table, taking impossibly slow steps toward her side of the bench, eyes fixed on her mouth. She saw his chest rising and falling faster and stronger, lifting his protective vest and causing the lingering smoke between his lips to billow chaotically around his dark beard. She held her ground, turning her body toward his as he walked,

“You made a rookie mistake, Captain Price. One that you’re not capable of making...”

His eyes sparked to life, focusing on hers now, and he knew that he’d been discovered. She continued to dismantle his farce,

“…and I wonder how it can be possible…”

Price rounded the first corner of the table, hanging on her every word. He took his cigar and pulled a long drag.

“...that such an experienced…”

Another step. The leather of his boot creaked as he pressed it down.

“...intelligent…”

Another step. She could smell his cologne now. Vetiver. Musk.

“...diligent soldier…”

He crossed the second corner, letting the smoke fall out of his mouth, pouring like water down his chin and tangling in his beard, holding his breath to let her view the effect. His teeth were clenched together behind his full mouth, and he began to smile in a sinister, pained way. She went on, quieter, her voice betraying her nerves,

“...would somehow forget how to put his own gun back together.”

Price’s cigar had come to an end, and he crushed it out under his boot as he stood in front of her, too close for propriety, just close enough to smell her coconut shampoo. He hummed, playing along, falsifying a sense of wonder and mystery in his tone.

“That is quite the mystery, innit? Must’ve been distracted by…” Price brought his hand up to touch the tip of his gunsmith’s long braid as it lay draped over her shoulder, laying on her breast, “…something important.”

“John,” she whispered, leaning toward him instinctively.

In the half-second between her speaking his name and the silence that came after, he struck like a snake, wrapping the rest of her braid around his fist like a rope, yanking her head back and pulling her to his body, letting their gear and clothes rustle between them, not caring where the vests and belts and buckles twisted and pinched, letting the tension linger. His free hand grabbed her jaw and neck in his wide, open palm, fingers pressing into her skin, warm and callused. 

His voice was so strained and full of his want that it seemed like a growl, rambling in a rushed, fervent monologue,

“You’ve been teasing me again, Smithy. Ever since we got back from that damn operation. You’ve been coming to the gym at night, when I lift, and you wear those fucking shorts and you show off that thick arse, bending over in front of the racks, pulling them up higher so I can how see your wet cunt is soaking right through them,” his hand yanked her head back, making her gasp. He loved that noise,

“Delicious. Your pretty little cunt, ready to eat. Right within my reach. A whole gym, empty, and you pick that spot every damn time. Moving past me in the lockers, letting me smell you, and now I want a taste.” 

She felt the stinging tightness of her scalp as he tugged on her braid, locking her body in place against his, controlling her head, moving it toward his face. He grimaced like he was in agony even though she was the one under his fist. His touch was such a relief. She’d been torturing him for weeks, and she surrendered to him, pliant to his whims, hoping he understood that her lack of resistance was essentially her begging him to forgive her for leaving him starving.

“Alright,” she smiled, still at his mercy, “If you want a taste, you can have one.” She watched as his eyes grew wide with anticipation as she unbuttoned her pants and tugged down the zipper. She bit her lip and shrugged, “On your knees, soldier.”

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