#is it good? no. will i finally get some peace?? hopefully. )
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thesleepyfable · 3 days ago
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~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Chapter 2: ~
A Family Growing Smaller:
I've teased about what this season is going to be on Discord, and now, a small seed is being planted.
With nothing more than the clothes on their back and hand luggage by their feet, Raffs and Brodie waited for the taxi to arrive. Everyone stood beside them. They knew they'd see each other again soon. You can't walk away from a crew when you've gone through what they have in the last week. Sadly, this only left Rennick, Trots, Muir, Addair, Gibbo, O'Connor, Innes, Roy, and Caz left together. They could all feel their newfound family getting smaller by the day. Soon, it would be O'Connor's turn.
'Safe journey home,' Roy said, giving the pair one of his signature bear hugs.
'Aye, you too,' Brodie replied. It was true what people said about him. He was a miserable bastard. Well, in the eyes of someone like Muir, he was. Never strayed from the rules and didn't know how to laugh. No one had seen him smile, but that could be because of the large moustache that would make Hercule Poirot blush. But today, you could hear the happiness in his voice. Finally going home after nearly six months. 'You lot come to Skye when the weather clears. You've never seen water like that before.'
'Ah, fuck that,' Caz joked. 'I'm never going in the water again.' Like before, everyone exchanged numbers. 'You two stay out of trouble.'
'Says you, Caz?'
'Gie's peace, ya prick.' The pair shared a final chuckle and hug. Caz learned a lot from Brodie, despite the pair never actually working together. He was a good man who taught him much, but the main one was to never go diving. How he and Raffs could do that meant they were braver than he'll ever be. Or, maybe Caz was smarter.
'So, what's your plan?'
'Stay here till New Years, then get my arse back to Glasgow.' But, in all honesty, Caz was conflicted. The scars weren't physical, but The Shape has left permanent damage. Whenever he now felt one of the infected slip away, it made him sad. Like a piece of him was missing. He didn't understand. They were his friends, but not for that long. He didn't even meet Gibbo until the end of September, and he still wasn't seeing a friendship with Addair in the near future.
At the same time, he wanted to go home.
He had to go home, and as much as he enjoyed the peaceful farm and endless fields, the countryside wasn't for him. Plus, he couldn't run forever from what he did. The sentencing will be longer. It's best to just get it over with. Caz wouldn't buy his bail. The money was for Suze to keep the flat. Finally, redecorate the bedroom and get the windows replaced.
'You two gonna stay away from the water?'
'Nah,' Brodie answered. 'But, like Roper said to me. I think we're going to go on a long holiday.'
'I hear Benidorm is nice.'
'Be original, Caz.'
Raffs felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to see O'Connor and Addair. It was odd to see the pair stand together without trying to rip each other's throats out. Last time they did, the pair only stopped the fight because O'Connor accidentally gave the poor lad a black eye when he pulled back to swing a punch, only for his elbow to collide with Raffs' eye socket.
'When are you and Mary going home?'
'Soon, I hope. Then hopefully come here.'
'You're going to leave Ireland?'
'It's not getting any better out there, Owen.' For some reason, O'Connor never called Raffs by his nickname. Or anyone really for that matter. Only Caz, Trots, and Gibbo weren't called by their first or surname. 'I'm only still working to provide a better roof over our heads.'
'I can lend money, if that will-'
'No,' O'Connor snapped, holding up a hand and ignoring how loud he momentarily was. 'No. That's your money and yours alone. We'll be fine. You go and see your ma, and have a happy new year.'
'Okay.' Raffs didn't know what came over him. A sense of guilt for not being able to do much for the past few days? Some type of desire to help? It's just something to make him feel useful. From his perspective, he's just followed everyone and waited to be told what to do. But before he could get lost in thought, it was now Addair's turn to give the young man his send-off.
'So, is this the end of Raffs' oil rig career?'
'Absolutely,' the diver answered without a moments thought. 'I know Skye always wants fishermen. It's a way to keep to the water. What about you?' Asking as if Addair could ever go into work again. A look of realisation hit Raffs as soon as the question left his mouth. His eyes widened, and his mouth curled. Thankfully, possibly because his wife and sons were here, Addair took it in stride and just laughed.
'I might take up cricket again.'
'I always saw you as a rugby bloke,' O'Connor teased.
'I love all sports.'
'Even horse racing?'
'No, I'd rather pluck my eyes out.' Yep. Still strange to see the pair actually having a laugh together, but it was nice.
Raffs felt Addair open his hand and put something inside his palm. He looked and held up a wooden carving of himself. It was remarkably detailed. Right down to the small orange pin he kept on the lining of his beanie. The young diver blinked a few times before looking up in shock.
'Did you make this?'
'Just something for you to take home.' Even with that answer, Raffs was shocked. The pair never had a conversation before until Muir gave them a task. But, he was happy. He didn't think he'd be going home with a gift.
'Thanks, Addair. Maybe you should go into woodcarving?'
Addair smiled. 'It's a thought. I've gotta keep the old noggin' active somehow.' The pair shared a handshake. He might be infected, but Addair's hand still felt the same. Nothing had changed in them. They were rough with dried skin peeling off the palms. Man has always done physical labour, so it wasn't a surprise the more Raffs pondered. Might be the only thing The Shape didn't alter.
'Hey? Good luck with Tommy.'
Addair paused. First Trots, then Gibbo and now Raffs. It always surprised him when someone mentioned his son's name. Like an alien was talking to him. He still didn't know how Trots knew to begin with. Yet, this time, his smile didn't fade.
'Thank you, Raffs. Now go on,' he pulled down on his beanie, covering his eyes. 'Fuck off back home.'
And just like that, two more members of the crew vanished. They watched them head down the long drive until they were out of sight. Muir sat in the snow to avoid the possibility of the taxi driver seeing his towering form. Everyone lingered for a moment before going back to their day.
Addair turned and caught Jennifer's eye. She stood on the porch. He smiled, but his smile towards his goddess slowly faded. He saw the look of distress in her eyes and the tears she held back. A sinking feeling weighed the man down.
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guinevereslancelot · 7 months ago
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my roses have buds, the blueberries have green fruits 😌 it really is june 💙
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k1ttygam3r · 1 year ago
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Going through the eight stages of grief rn. I miss you so much already AI Sponge
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nanivinsmoke · 3 months ago
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❥ Make U Love Me
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logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutantfem!reader
♪ you’re tired of going places where you can’t scream and shout ♪
tags: featuring the biggest asshole, scott! cheating, a little angst, violence, mentions of blood and death, slight exhibitionism, kissing, edging, dom logan, sub reader, creampie, pregnancy, oral, multiple orgasms, falling in love, etc…
note: heavily inspired by robin thicke’s song with the same title. wc: 4.7k — put my heart into this.
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you were scott’s girl. nothing more, nothing less.
it wasn’t what you thought it would be, well back then at least.
scott was loving when you two first started dating. he would take you out, treat you like a queen, and was very attentive. but, that all started to change when his first love died in the midst of battle. jean grey.
the day she died, is the day your relationship did too. that same guy you fell in love with, turned into the guy you hated. everything stopped. he was no longer the perfect boyfriend, he was more of a royal asshole.
he wouldn’t make love to you, he wouldn’t put you on missions with him and when you confronted him about the change—it would always end in a fight. you didn’t deserve this, you knew you didn’t. but, you couldn’t break up with him. that small piece of your heart wouldn’t allow you.
you knew there was a part of him that still loved you. well, you thought he did. that all changed when you and the crew got the news. jean was alive.
“i don’t want you going after her, scott! what’s so hard to understand about that?” you raised your voice, brushing past your boyfriend and putting the onions you just chopped into the hot skillet—continuing your recipe for tonight’s dinner.
when the professor told everyone that she was alive, scott’s ears perked up and practically begged the professor to let him be the one to go and find her. charles urged scott that it wasn’t a good idea. something could go wrong and she might no longer be the jean we all knew….she could be possessed by an evil force. the dark phoenix.
but, of course scott wasn’t trying to hear that. his mind was clouded with thoughts of the red head. he was still deeply in love with jean. just the thought of her had him going crazy. you knew it and it pissed you off, which brought upon the current argument you two were having now.
“what i don’t understand is why not? she’s one of us! i have to bring her back, with or without your permission!” you turned to him, eyes slowly turning into a deep red; the flames from the stove started to rise—searing the vegetables that sat in the iron pan.
scott started to slowly back up, swallowing thickly as you inched closer to him; afraid of what you might do next. he locked his visor onto the burning food, which he tried to pull your attention on to, but you didn’t budge. that is until you heard someone clearing their throat.
your eyes went back to its normal state and you calmed down once you took a look at logan, who stood there watching the whole ordeal. you looked back at the food and turned the stove off before looking back your boyfriend, “come back with her and see what happens, scott.”
———
you didn’t come out of your bedroom for dinner that night and neither did he. hell, you barely got any sleep last night—too busy tossing and turning in your bed, thinking about scott and jean together. and when you finally did get some sleep, the sun started to peak over the horizon—a beautiful hue of orange painting the sky.
when you finally woke up, you pulled yourself into a much needed hot shower, before putting on your favorite pair of flare jeans and a cute top paired with some leather boots—heading downstairs to see what was happening for today. the children passed by, running and walking to hangout after class, while you made your way down the wooden stairs—looking for your boyfriend.
you wanted to talk to him about yesterday, hopefully to make peace with what transpired—but it seems like he had other plans when you spotted him holding hands & walking with the newly resurrected jean. and to top it all off, he was wearing a big toothy smile like he was kid in a candy store. oh you were pissed.
they disappeared further into the mansion as you stormed downstairs—eyes darkening while you were hot on their tails, ready to confront them; that is until you were trapped between two big muscle bound arms. “let me go logan!” you tried to free yourself from his grasp, but there was no use. he wasn’t letting you go.
“need you to cool off. don’t need you to go all ‘flame on!’ on them today.” he chuckled and ushered you towards the front door, both of you going towards the academy’s garage and pulling off in his car.
you tossed back your shot of vodka, grimacing at the strong burning sensation, before tapping your glass for more. logan had took you to a bar, so you could drink to your hearts content and stop that flame from igniting within you.
“he’s a fucking asshole.” you spoke, downing your drink again then turning to look at the male sitting right next to you. he nodded in agreement and sipped on his whiskey, letting you vent to him.
“I feel like such an idiot, falling in love with someone who doesn’t love me.”
“his fault he couldn’t see what right in front of him.” you passed, wide eyed, looking at the side of his rugged face while he finished off his drink. what did he mean by that?
“pretty lil thing like you deserves to be treated like a princess, not by someone like him.” his compliment made you press your thighs together and shift in your seat.
“and who’s gonna treat me like one?” you hummed, placing your hand on his arm, pressing against him. it might been the liquid courage that had you feeling so bold, but you knew exactly what you were doing.
logan grunted and smirked, shaking his head before his pretty hazel eyes locked on yours, “careful, doll. don’t know what you might be getting yourself into.”
“maybe i do~” you flirted back, lips ghosting his ears, making goosebumps rise on his skin. you wanted him badly right now. you didn’t care that the two of you were out in a bar, it made no difference. you wanted to take him right here and now.
“let’s play some pool.” he got up from his seat and grabbed your hand, making you sigh in response. maybe you were getting ahead of yourself?
———
the two of you played pool for the next couple of hours. logan was surprised to see that you were really good at the game, even more shocked that you had him on a losing streak. “good thing you didn’t put money on it.” you teased, striking the 8ball into one of the holes, winning your fifth game for the night.
“would ask you to play another game, but it’s time we get back to the mansion. bar’s bout to close.” he pointed out and you took a look around, seeing only four patrons left and the bartenders cleaning their glasses. you pouted and racked the balls back into the middle of the table, before grabbing logan’s hands and leaving the bar.
the two of you stood outside of the car for a bit, logan puffing on his cigar while you enjoyed the night’s cool breeze—mind running rampant with what happened in the bar between you and him.
“lo—“ you began, making him turn his attention towards you—the sight of him blowing out smoke did something to you; everything about the male aroused you. why didn’t you see him like this before? maybe you would’ve been happier with him.
“can i kiss you?” you breathed out, stepping closer to him; body heat overpowering the crisp air outside. “doll….” he began, but you stopped him—not ready for him to reject your feelings just yet.
“I know you felt something in there with me. if i felt it, i know you did. so, kiss me. prove me wrong….” you pulled him by his flannel, eyes sparkling with hope and desire; as they flickered to his lips. he searched your face, before he flicked his cigar on the ground and pulled you in close—his lips melting on yours.
you wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands moved to the middle of your back, before falling to your ass—squeezing the plump flesh through your jeans. as much as he wanted to pull back, he didn’t—you were so addictive, he just had have all of you.
his tongue slipped into your mouth and he picked you up and placed you on the hood of the car—kiss becoming passionate by the moment. the taste of the cigar he just smoked and traces of his whiskey had your mind spinning, and your cunt throbbing. “logannn~”
“i know, princess. smelled how bad you wanted it inside of the bar.” he grunted and his thick fingers quickly unfastened your jean’s button, tugging them down slightly—before he slipped his hand into your pants, rubbing your throbbing clit through your yellow panties.
“shit you’re soaked. he’s never made you feel like this, right?” he grunted in your ear, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting the tips of his fingers to your aching clit, rubbing it slowly.
“no never, he never made me wet like this—fuck—only you lo~” the sweet moan you let out drove him insane, it fueled him and he couldn’t help but to quicken his pace; making your back arch off the hood of the car. gasping, you reached down to hold onto his wrist, trying to stop his pleasurable torment—but it did nothing. he kept going, making you buck your hips up into his palm.
“so needy. summers is such an idiot for letting this go.” logan moves his fingers down to your sodden hole, palm pressing right down onto your clit, making your body jolt in response. despite the tight confinement of your pants, his hand was able to work wonders on your lower half—pumping in and out of your cunt.
you gushed over his fingers each time it hit your spot. the pressure that was building up in the pit of your tummy was becoming unbearable. you desperately needed to let go, show him how good he made you feel.
“gonna cum—all over your fingers!” you warned, eyes starting to roll back into your head as you felt that feeling you loved so much start to burst. that is, until he pulled his fingers away. your eyes shot opened and you watched him suck your juices off of his digits.
“gotta get you home, doll” he fastened your pants and helped you off the hood of the car; before going to the passenger side, opening the door for you. shooting daggers at him as you stomped your way to the car, you watched as he hopped in the driver seat—ignoring your stares.
you didn’t bother opening your mouth to speak either. too frustrated, tired and horny to talk. so, you opted to lay your head against the window and watched as the trees became blurred on the way back to the mansion.
as logan pulled the car up the school’s drive, you could see the resurrected red head and scott standing outside—their lips glued on one another. you shared a look with logan and shook your head. you didn’t have the energy anymore, it was obvious where his heart lied.
getting out of the car, the two pulled back once they noticed the both of you approaching—scott looking like he had seen a ghost. “baby! i-i—“
“go to hell scott” brushing past them, you slowly made your way to your room—logan a few feet behind. logan looked at scott and just shook his head. idiot.
he just planted you right into his hands, and boy was he going to keep you there.
———
the following weeks started to get better and better for you. getting closer to logan was the best thing to ever happen to you. the two of you would spend almost everyday together, most of the days ended with you finally getting to cum around his fingers and all over his face. you were happier, almost like you were in the beginning before scott ruined it. and he noticed it to.
but, you didn’t care what he thought about what you were doing. he ruined his chances of being happy with you ever again and he knew it.
currently you and logan were in an empty class room, with him between your plush thighs; working a third orgasm out of you for today. small hands were tangled in his soft brown locs—tugging them as you grinded your orgasm out on his face. logan pulled away once you calmed down, his beard and half of his face being covered in your slick—which he happily licked up; well what he could.
he helped you off the table and pulled your skirt up while peeling your cold wet panties off. “these? are for me,” you blushed, watching him put them in his pocket before pulling you close. his hands fell to your rear and those eyes that you loved to get lost in, stared right at you; before he pressed his lips against yours.
you melted in the kiss. your body relaxing as the two of you moved in sync, hands moving across each other’s bodies. ever since that day at the bar, you noticed a change in yourself. a change you slowly welcomed. love. you were falling deeply in love with the wolverine. it was different type of love you and scott had. this one felt like one of those love’s where you could see the two of you grow old and have a bunch of mutant babies.
you wanted to tell him how you felt, how he made you feel, but you were scared. scared that he might reject you. so, you opted for the latter. being his friend with benefits.
“logan, I wanna suck your dick~” you pulled back, eyes traveling down to his noticeable bulge, then back up at him.
“don’t wanna hurt you princess. plus ive got a class in fifteen minutes,” he warned and you smirked, slowly sinking down to your knees. “so? ill make you cum in ten~”.
the clinking sound of his belt being dropped to floor, along with his pants, filled the room. he watched with low eyes as you pulled his fully erect length out—cock twitching when he heard you gasp. you now understood why he never fucked you, he was way too big. there was no way your walls would survive that, right?
your mouth salivated at the sight and you could slowly feel yourself becoming even more aroused. gripping his cock and swiping your tongue over the tip, you moaned at the taste of his sweet precum, before you took him into your mouth. he tossed his head back, loving the feeling of your warm wet mouth around him, while you slowly started to take him even deeper.
his big hands practically flew to the back of your head when he felt you gag around him, once he hit the back of your mouth, slowly creeping into your throat.
“did you just cum? hm, princess?” he locked eyes with you, smelling the familiar scent of your arousal—knowing exactly how you smelled when you came.
you whimpered, still slobbering all over his cock before the grip on your head got tighter and he pressed your pretty little head down harder; nose nuzzled in his bush of brown hairs.
you gagged, but he didn’t give you time to adjust as he continued to repeat his actions—pulling you off of his cock by your hair before forcing you right back on; fucking your mouth to his liking. the more he moved the more arousing it became for the both of you, causing you to relax your throat, letting him fill it with his thick cock.
the sound of you gagging and sucking on his cock along with the smell of your cunt dripping with excitement, had the six foot two man going feral. his pretty eyes fluttered in the back of his head and he forcefully pushed your head deep in his bush— letting out one of the sexiest growls you ever heard as he poured thick ropes of cum down your throat.
the warm sensation had you dripping right onto the classroom’s wooden floors, moaning at his taste before you swallowed. his grip loosened and you pulled back, gasping for air.
“told ya i could make you cum~”
———
finding yourself back into your room, you were scared by the dark figure sitting on your bed; making you jump out of your clothes like a cartoon character. flickering on the light, scott sat on your bed wearing a plain look on his face.
“the hell you doing in my room, scott?” you kicked off your shoes, glaring at the brunette. he adjusted his visor before getting up, towering over you a bit.
“you and logan been really close lately. what’s up with that?” you stared at him before giggling. he wasn’t possibly serious? you ignored him and tried to move around him, only for him to grab you and pull you back.
“grab me again and that’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do. get out of my room and go be with jean. me and you are finished.” you stared into his ruby red colored visor, making sure he got the point. the mutant scoffed and shook his head, “fine. go be a whore for logan, sure he’d love that.”
you didn’t even give him time to react before sending a fire induced smack to his face, causing him to yell out from the painful sensation. he was quick to recover, ready to aim his optic lasers at you; until a fist came flying at him—knocking him to the ground. logan stood there for a minute, taking a look at you to make sure you were alright, before pouncing on scott.
you watched as logan nearly beat him bloody before stepping in, tugging on his black button up—begging him to stop. however, the raspy voice of the professor entered all of your minds, stopping everyone’s movements.
‘the dark phoenix has risen and attacked me. jean grey is no longer with us. teachers, meet me in the infirmary’
logan looked at you and grabbed scott, slinking him around his shoulders, “go meet me in the infirmary. im gonna take him to his room and have hank look after him.” you nodded and practically raced to the infirmary, meeting the rest of the x-men. they surround xavier’s comatose body, talking amongst each other about what was going on, until ororo started speaking.
“the professor was attacked a few minutes ago by the x-men we once knew as jean grey. however, the friend we knew and once loved is now gone and is being possessed by a dark entity. this being is catastrophic and we must stop it before it’s too late—” she paused and took a look at her fellow mutants, before raising an eyebrow.
“where’s scott?”
“he’s out of commission for a while. ill catch him up later.” logan’s arm snaked around you waist, appearing behind you and answering her question. she nodded and continued with the details of the mission, before listing out names of those who would be on it.
you and logan were the main frontmen for this mission. storm had converged a plan on how it should go down, along with a plan b; warning you guys that there’s a slight chance it might end bad. she put her faith in you and the team, before dismissing everyone. the mission would take place tomorrow.
———
sitting on logan’s surprisingly soft bed, you relaxed while he was in the shower. your mind was running rampant about what could possibly happen tomorrow. being that this could possibly be the end, frightened you, especially since you haven’t told him how you felt.
“logan?” you called out, listening to the calming sound of the shower running.
“yeah?” he responded and you got up from his bed and stripped out of your clothes, joining him in the shower. the sight of his nude, wet body was breathtaking. so very breathtaking, that you couldn’t help but break down and cry—sobbing as the warm water painted your face.
those thick eyebrows raised and he immediately pulled you close, rubbing circled on your back; along with rubbing your head. “hey, talk to me. won’t be able to understand you when you’re crying like this, princess.”
you nodded in his hairy chest before pulling back, sniffling. this was the time to let it all out, let him know how you feel.
“i love you. i love you so fucking bad, logan. you’re all i think about. i think about us getting married and having a litter or two of kids…” he laughed at and kissed your temple, before urging you to continue.
“you’ve been there for me for a while now. you uplifted me and showed me what true love is. and it pains me to know that there’s a possibility that tomorrow could take this away from me.” more tears poured out of your eyes and he cupped your face, kissing away your tears.
logan honestly felt the same. he fell in love with you the moment you joined the x-men. even when you got with scott, he still loved you. he just knew it was fate that the two of you were meant to be. he moved his lips down to your soft plump ones, making you melt on the spot.
the kiss the two of you shared held such passion, that you wished you could stay like this forever.
“i love you too, princess. but, you will tell me this tomorrow; when we win.” he kissed from your lips down to your neck before stopping at the middle of your chest—kissing one of your mounds and holding the other; earning a moan from you.
“in the meantime, how about we get started on that litter?” you giggled and nodded your head, before your back was against the wall with his cock in between your legs—warming up from your heat, while he pinched one of your perky nipples and sucked on the other.
slick started to pool and drip onto his cock as he continued to tease your sensitive breasts, fueling your arousal. “please, baby….don’t tease me—wan’ you inside of me~”
he pulled away from your nipple with a ‘pop’ echoing after, still teasing the other one with his rough hands, a smirk painted on his rugged face. “you sure you’re ready for that, doll?” he asked and you nodded profusely. lifting up your leg, he rubbed himself on your slick coated slit, using your essence as lubricant and then pushed himself into your tightness.
he threw his head back from how you felt, and your walls clung to him; clenching and unclenching around him. the pressure he was putting on your clit, had you cumming prematurely. he smirked and pulled himself out, making you whimper; already missing how he filled you up—even though it was just the tip.
he repeated that process, pushing his cock in and pulling you out, earning more lewd noises from you and your pretty pussy. “logannn, please fuck me already!” he grunted in response and slammed himself inside—filling you to the brim with his cock. you squealed from the pleasurably painful sensation that coursed through you, kissing him to distract you from the pain.
the grip on your leg tightened as he started to pound your sweet little pussy, walls stretching past its normals limits. the more he fucked you, the more your cunt became molded to the shape of his cock. it was evident that you were made for him.
by now, the water had gotten cold and he continued to rut inside of you—cunt coating his cock with your creamy white fluids. he was drowning in your sweet fluids and he didn't need a floatie—he had reached nirvana.
in one swift motion, the shower was off and you were in his arms—legs wrapped around his waist while he was still inside; carrying you out of the shower & over to the bathroom sink. he pulled out momentarily as he placed you on your feet and turned you around, your fat ass facing him; while he plunged right back inside of your middle.
pushing your arch down, placing his hands on your hips—he reached deeper than before, causing you to scream. “dick too big for you baby?” you nodded and he chuckled, grinding himself against you until he started to pound you silly.
you tried to open your mouth to speak, to warn him that you were going to cum, but your mind was too fucked out to process anything; so you let out a sweet moan. “go ahead and cum for me princess. could feel her twitching around me.”
it was amazing how he knew your body so well already and it didn’t take long for you to heed his words, cumming hard on his dick while he continued to make your cunt his. the tightness of your walls squeezing him, broke him and he couldn’t help but to cum buckets inside of you—filling your tummy up with his kids.
the two of you panted, bodies shaking as your orgasms came over you—your head being pulled back so he could press a kiss to your lips.
“i love you, princess.”
———
blood covered the blue and yellow suits the team wore as the dark phoenix made paint out of their blood. the fight wasn’t going so good. some of you were gravely injured, possibly on the brink of death, while some of you tried to catch your breaths; still able to fight.
you looked over at a bleeding logan, worried about the wounds he had received, catching his eyes. “don’t worry, it’ll heal.”
he charged towards the being, claws fully unsheathed, with you and few others following suit; only to be tossed away like peons. you laid there in pain, ready to accept defeat, until you heard the crunching of the dirt nearby. turning your head you were shocked to see scott, staring down the possessed body of his old lover.
scott turned to look at you and logan, and smiled before inching closer toward them. your eyes shot open, you knew exactly what he was going to do. “scott! wait,—“ but it was already too late.
with the help of colossus, the leader of the x-men was tossed over to jean—grabbing onto her before a red flash of light blinded you all. once it cleared, the two were gone. the only thing that stood where they once were, was scott’s yellow & red custom visor.
you sat there in disbelief. you never expected this to happen. yeah, you his guts, but you never expected him to sacrifice himself. better yet, die.
“c’mon doll, let’s go home~” logan’s raspy voice pulled you out of your thoughts, holding out his hand which you gladly accepted. you turned around, looking at where he was one last time, before turning around heading back to the jet.
——
5 months later.
“and here lies the visor that was once used by our leader and hero of the x-men, cyclops. he will be missed.” logan spoke to the new students joining the academy—giving them a tour, stopping at scott’s memorial.
“logan~” your voice called out to him, making him turn his attention over to you—his beautiful pregnant wife. “alright kids, gonna turn this over to our new teacher; ms. frost,” the blonde stepped up with a smile and took over while your husband jogged over to you—kissing your growing belly before moving up to your lips.
“we’re gonna be late! this is the appointment where we get to see the baby’s gender!”
it might’ve started off rough, but you were finally happy and in love.
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artstaeus3600 · 4 days ago
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So some people have requested a part two for the Danny is Conner's Dad prompt/one shot? I did and it's been in my head since I'd written it so here ya go!
Danny's been living in Central City for almost a year now and things have been great with Conner! Dan finally gets to meet the little ghostie and finds him acceptable (read adorable) Conner seems to love going outside and napping so they have been doing that for nap time, he's finally seen the "Flashes" that Dan and Clockwork were complaining about so much and he gets it, it's a little irritating figuring out what changes in the timeline when he goes places.
Dani came by with her latest gift, a blue and red wrap with stars on it, that Danny now wears everywhere with Conner, so when Danny and Conner were having their nap walk around the City Danny got Summoned by a cult just from the smell of blood it's not going to be great... So Danny in his more eldritch form of endless stars and glowing green eyes and fire crown (still human sized), with the bonus of baby Conner with his wrap, he gets pulled to the summoning and finds the cult wearing green robes with some of the superheros he's seen around beating them up and suddenly stops when they notice him and the baby.
The leader of the cult who for some reason was still conscious starts speaking
"Oh Great One, Ghost King, Ancient of Space we ask for you to cleanse our world of the filth that has...", and that's as far as he got before the Superhero with a Kryptonian symbol for hope knocked him finally unconscious, then all focus is back on Danny with the baby and well Danny didn't really wanna reveal his human identity to the heros cause he can just tell the edgy dark one is a nosey type of hero, and he's finally having a semi peaceful life and he's rather not get involved with heros again, so he breaks the summoning circle faster than they can protest and dips out only leaving a green sticky note with a summoning for him and written "use only for emergency"
Part 1
Hopefully this is good for part two? This was what I was imagining for the Justice League to figure out Danny and Conner and trying to track him down.
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midnightcrw · 11 months ago
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Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, even though it's only one swear word (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: Since you all wanted a second part, I finally wrote one, although I really wasn't sure how to continue. I tried my best, and unfortunately, I'm not that happy with it, but hopefully, you all will like it somehow / Part 1
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A headache threatened to make itself known as you looked unimpressed as the King of Hell shook your shoulders, causing you to rock back and forth.
"Did your parents drop you on your head when you were a kid?" Lucifer asked in a desperate tone, not wanting to believe that you and Alastor were a thing (obviously still not knowing that you're married to each other).
"Maybe," you said nonchalantly, ready to push him away if he didn't stop shaking you.
"But-" that's it, you thought as you pushed Lucifer's hands away from your shoulders, surprising him by that before cupping his face in your hand, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he stared at you with wide eyes.
"Listen to me," you began in a stern tone, glaring at him, making him visibly swallow. "You're going to let your daughter show you around, or I'm going to skin you infront of everyone."
With that, you let go of his face as you dusted off your hands, as if you had touched something dirty.
The rest of the residents could only stare with shocked expressions. Fortunately, they hadn't heard what you had said, but from what they had seen, it was definitely intense, as no one would dare do such a thing to the Ruler of Hell.
Though Alastor didn't look shocked, he seemed to be fuming as one of his eyes twitched while the crazed grin never left his face.
"Okay... Anyway, Dad. Look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings!" The excitement was vivid in Charlie's tone as she had her beautiful smile on her face.
She was already trying to move on, wanting to make her point to her dad and you appreciated the fact that you weren't in the spotlight anymore.
Thinking that you were finally getting some peace, you sighed in relief before you felt Alastor's head on top of yours.
"Tell me, darling. How long have you known this little pesky, but surely powerful man?" The 'powerful' was emphasized, as the static seemed to get even more grating with his snippy tone.
Alastor was not the jealous type, you knew that. But he always had his moments, loving to meddle in other people's affairs while hiding his own.
Huffing, you turned around and looked up at him, "While you were gone for seven years, I might have befriended him."
The anger was evident in your voice as you did not explain further. Not only had your husband left you for a few years out of nowhere, but now he was suddenly trying to pry information out of you.
Alastor just laughed at your answer and shook his head while your hands clenched into fists.
And before you could curse him, he suddenly moved much closer, almost pressing his forehead against yours. "Surely for nothing of lustful nature," he whispered sharply, sounding almost disgusted as he uttered the word 'lustful'.
"Maybe I should have," two could play this game, and you certainly weren't going to back down now, since he loved to provoke you so much.
Hearing your reply, the static increased as his antlers grew before he suddenly disappeared in front of your eyes, now standing further away from you.
"Charlie has a very unique vision," your husband began as he approached Charlie, speaking very animatedly, "I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests," he said, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder as she thanked him.
Of course, seeing that didn't make Lucifer happy at all, since he was already planning to kill Alastor when he got the chance.
And to be honest, at this point, you couldn't care less, almost ready to encourage Lucifer.
"Quite an impressive young lady. We're all very proud of her." The man dressed in red knew what he was doing as he pulled Charlie closer.
Somehow, even though he was angry, the short man managed to steer the conversation to another topic, such as getting introduced to the rest of the people in the hotel.
With a smile on her face, Charlie pulled Vaggie near her, "This is Vaggie. She's my girlfriend."
You had probably never seen Lucifer so relieved as a grin made its way across his face, "Oh my golly, you like girls?"
You truly wanted to bang your head against something, knowing that he was going to embarrass himself.
"Yes, so do I. We have so much in common. You put her there, Maggie," he said as he pulled Vaggie into a bone crushing hug, making her a bit uncomfortable with his enthusiasm.
"He didn't even get the name right..." you muttered, rubbing your temple in frustration.
And of course, it wouldn't be Alastor if he didn't continue to annoy you further, "Everything all right, my sweet?"
"Would be much better without you here," you said, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to deal with him right now.
"Is that so?" Alastor whispered in your ear with a toothy grin on his face, looking pleased with himself as you flinched at the sudden closeness.
All you could do was exhale sharply as you stepped away from him, even though he teleported right back into your personal space.
Ignoring him, you just watched the rest of the residents.
"Hello, I clean." Niffty giggled to herself as she grabbed hold of Lucifer's coat, causing him to stare at her with an uncertain expression on his face.
"Don't you dare throw the chandelier to the floor," you whispered, already one step ahead of him.
"Oh, and how well you know me," Alastor said in a delighted voice, and now you wished you hadn't told him that, because it seemed that another plan was brewing in that big head of his.
Without warning, your husband suddenly put an arm around your waist as he walked you closer to the rest of the people.
"You must be proud of Charlie since she has already found people who want to redeem themselves," the grin didn't leave his face as usual as the attention was once again back on you and Alastor.
Lucifer's eye twitched as he looked at you, not liking the fact that the deer was holding his friend so close.
"Sure I am," the short man said as he pulled you out of the radio demon's grip, causing the static to be heard.
"Doesn't seem like it," Alastor said quickly, jumping to the next topic before Lucifer could interject in annoyance, "I even remember the exact moment Charlie needed help, and of course, being the perfect gentleman, I couldn't help but lend a hand." He chuckled to himself as he suddenly grabbed your hand, wanting to pull you to him, but Lucifer didn't let go of your hand, but nonetheless he continued to talk anyway.
"You could almost call me dad," Alastor said with a sinister grin as both men continued to pull on your hand.
"Surely no one would call you that," the King of Hell said with contempt in his voice as he glared at your husband and suddenly turned his eyes to you, "I promise you, you can do better than this. Have you seen his haircut?"
"I see it every day," you muttered.
Charlie didn't seem to be in a better mood than you, as she let herself fall onto the sofa while Vaggie patted her head. And somehow Angel Dust was eating popcorn, even holding the popcorn bag in front of the Princess of Hell as she started to eat some of it while they all watched the three of you.
"In fact, she sees it every day and every night," Alastor added with a crazed look in his eyes as he started to get annoyed.
The look on Lucifer's face was hilarious. One would really like to see his reaction if he knew that Alastor wasn't interested in anything sexual, but just loved to anger people, especially those who didn't pay attention to him.
"Nobody wants to see that atrocity!"
"Well, she loves it!"
"She doesn't!"
And before things could get worse, Husk suddenly said, "Mimzy is here."
With that, your eyes widened as you looked towards the entrance while the men stopped pulling on your hands.
Oh and how you hated her.
"Surely you all missed me!" The voice of the beautiful little woman was heard, clearly directed at your husband.
Fuck no, you thought.
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Taglist
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@nightlydream
@itsmskeisha
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yourfatherlucifer · 1 month ago
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| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter One
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Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x Female!Reader
Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.
Warnings for this chapter: Slight Parental Abuse, kidnapping, mental breakdown, MDNI
My Thankful Help: @potatomountain @kitten4sannie @rems-writing
WC: 1.7k
AU: Mafia
Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork
AN: This chapter is under 2k because as I said, the first chapter would be short.
Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia-16 @daniela-f-uwu @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx
@hyukssunflower @witchbxtch0701 If I cannot tag you, please fix your settings.
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“Dad, please, this is all I have left!” Y/N’s dad didn’t care, he snatched the few bills she clenched in her palms, then shoved her to the floor.
“I don’t care. I need it more, you brat.”
Her father left her on the cold hard floor without another thought as he exited her home.
This all started five years ago, when her mother died and her father became a huge gambling addict. Every bit of death insurance money that was left for their daughter was stolen by the father for excessive spending.
Whatever, his ass can forget it.
Y/N had to return to work if she wanted to keep her home, rent and bills were definitely no joke. With a sigh and groan, she grabbed her apron and hat. As much as she hated her customers, she had a good job. It paid well and gave her a nice home: small, but nice. The best part is that it’s away from her fathers run down house.
Oh the family home..it used to be so beautiful. Y/N’s mother always kept it so extravagant and beautiful, her father actually built it for her mother. Alas, once she died, Y/N’s dad let it fall into disrepair. Holes in the floor, broken windows, no working appliances. It truly was just, not hospitable in any way shape or form.
The walk to the car was miserable, with her pockets robbed of the last cash she had, her bank account stripped clean of its currency. Y/N hated her father in these final minutes to her car, “Piece of shit, hate his ass.”
Her car struggled to start, pissing her off even more. Her hands smacked against the steering wheel and she let out an agonizing scream. Tears streamed down her face that signified her further frustration. Why? Why not was her life like this? Y/N stepped out of her car with a slam of the door. Bus transposition it is. She could only count on the money she made tonight to make it back home. Her bus card only had enough for one ride.
Y/N grabbed her coat before heading back outside to the bus station, it better not be packed. Her day was already shitty and she didn’t need to be jostled around by people on the way to work.
The moment she stepped onto the bus and scanned her card, only then could she breathe a sigh of relief. There was no one on the bus which gave her momentary tranquility. A peaceful silence if you must.
After the jostling bus ride and arriving to work, Y/N prepared for a long day ahead of her. Hopefully having no shitty customers and ending the day with a good pay.
She needs it.
About six hours later, she was clocked out of work with some cash in her pocket, she had made about one hundred and twenty four dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get her home and maybe something ordered to eat. Tomorrow's payment would have to go to rent no matter what. She absolutely cannot afford to be homeless.
It had turned dark outside on the way home which she didn’t mind but alas, men. She never had to worry about that but she still worried regardless.
With her home in sight, she let out another sigh of relief and stepped inside. Why was it so dark? She knows she left the lights on. She was sure she left them on. Y/N was about to bolt when hands grabbed her and the lights turned on.
Three men resided in her home entrance and she panicked, “Who the hell are you people and why are you in my home?” She tried her hardest to break away from the man’s hold, she couldn’t see what they looked like and that scared her.
A short one with orange hair pushed himself off the couch with a frown, “You’re not Mark..” His face grew cold, “Might I ask who you are instead?”
Y/N could only scowl before giving in, “I’m his daughter. What do you want with my father?”
“Well, you see, he owes us a hefty bit of money. He listed this place as his home but he’s not here. Do you know where he is?” He came face to face with the girl as he scanned her body up and down. Quite the specimen indeed, he thought.
Y/N shook her head, “Why the hell would I know where that deadbeat is? He’s nothing but trouble and continues to steal my money.”
This made the man laugh, the others stiffening.
“Oh, yeah, sounds just like him.” He thought for a moment before nodding to himself, “Well, guess we’re gonna have to take you instead! Maybe we can lure him out with you.”
Before she could protest and scream for help, something was bashed against her head and she fell to the floor in a blackout.
Time flew by quickly.
The moment she woke up, she realized she was in a cell, her body wrapped in a tight rope and her legs barred together tightly.
Y/N began to cry, of course her father would get her in this situation. What a dickweed.
A light quickly flashed into the dark room, someone stepped in.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” The voice was monotone, “Captain wants to see you.” The sounds of keys jingling rattled her ears, swearing she had a concussion.
She was quickly yanked up and taken outside of the cell, “Do not attempt to flee, I will just shove you back in there with nothing to eat.”
Y/N gave in and let him take her upstairs. She was astonished by his beauty once they reached the light. No, no, do not think that way, she thought to herself. She was kidnapped.
She was taken to a room that was secluded from the rest, chandeliers lining the hallway as she walked, well, was forced down. Still, a beautiful place that astonished her.
Once she was shoved into the room and the door slammed behind her, only then could she look up from where she fell.
The other man stood up from his seat and helped her stand up, “I told you to be gentle, Jongho. Follow my orders next time or you know damn well what happens.”
“Yes, Hongjoong, sir, I’m sorry.” The voice spoke from behind the girl.
This guy was the boss?
“I’m Hongjoong, I’m the leader of ateez and you’re in our home. You can thank your father for that.” Hongjoong gently brought Y/N to a seat and sat her down, sending shivers down her spine.
“What do I have to do with my father? He’s not going to rescue me. He only cares about his money.” He didn’t like those words but quickly gathered his cool.
“No matter, fathers always come back if they want to escape our wrath.” Hongjoong cleared his throat before he stood up once more, “You’ll be staying with us until he makes an appearance or pays us back.”
She knew neither was going to happen. She’d be stuck here forever until the day she died.
Tears lined her eyes as she tried to fight them back, “Then you should just kill me.”
Hongjoong laughed in such a maniacal way that it scared Y/N, “I won’t be doing that either, you’re too pretty to kill. I like you.” He wasn’t sending any red flags but still, he scared Y/N.
“Fine.”
“Good girl. Jongho, take her to the room I had prepared and have the maids clean her up and feed her.” With a wave of his hand, Y/N was back to being yanked around, “Be gentle, dammit!” His fist smacked against the desk and Jongho was frightened once more, being more careful than he had before.
When the two of them were out of sight, Jongho was harsh once again, “I don’t like you. I don’t see why Captain has such an interest in you, I would’ve just killed you if I was in his position.”
Y/N couldn’t say anything, she was too scared, too afraid to die in all honesty. She could only wonder what would happen to her home, her job, everything she had. Would she just be reported as missing? What would happen? Would anyone even care?
“You’ll be staying in here.” She was shoved into a room once again but maids rushed to her this time, helping her to the bed, almost as if they were also afraid of Hongjoong.
She didn’t blame them.
Y/N didn’t even fight back, she let them undress her, too hollow of shell at the moment. They led her to a prepared bath, it was..big. Too big.
They helped her inside and began washing her body before she shouted, “I can do it myself, thank you.” The maids didn’t scamper off unfortunately.
“We’re so sorry, but Mr Kim wants us doing this. We have to.” They spoke with such a frightening tone, almost as if they were gonna get their heads chopped off on a stand.
They scrubbed her body with such ease and care, not wanting to hurt the girl. Too scared to do so. Then again, they haven’t had another girl in the house in so long. It was nice.
Once they were done, they had her step out, drying and dressing her in a gown. Something she normally would never wear, alas she has no choice unfortunately. If this is what the man wanted her to wear then so be it.
The several maids took their leave for a moment and Y/N took that as her chance to escape. She bolted out of the bathroom, out of the room, then into the hallway. Her heavy breaths carried her in a panic, but what she didn’t expect was to run in a hard chest.
Y/N screamed in defeat as they grabbed her tight. She recognized the hold as the person who captured her home.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” The voice snickered in such a mimicking tone, “Mm, captain is gonna love to hear about this.”
Y/N stared up into his eyes, yet another beautiful man and this one was definitely tall.
“You do look delicious.” However, he shrugged and dragged her back into the room, “I’m Mingi, though, next time you try to escape, I won’t be so lenient.” The door was slammed as Mingi left her in the cold and dark room once more.
Y/N could only cry as she came to the conclusion she was never leaving this place.
Ever.
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nathaslosthershit · 3 months ago
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Emotional Times (OP81)
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Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!
It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.
There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 
The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 
“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.
This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-
Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 
Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.
��Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.
“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”
He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 
The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.
“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.
With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 
She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.
Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.
She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 
She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 
A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.
“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.
If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.
“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.
“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 
“Yeah well i-”
“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.
She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 
And then she burst into tears.
“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 
Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”
“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.
Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:
Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 
Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 
Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.
Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days
Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?
Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.
Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.
Nicole: 😉
Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.
Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 
“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.
“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 
“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.
After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.
“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.
The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 
“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.
“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.
“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”
“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.
“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 
Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.
Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.
“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.
“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.
Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.
“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.
“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  
Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 
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thewritetofreespeech · 1 month ago
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May I kindly request Aemond taking a bath to relax with his lover?
But, unfortunately for the poor reader, he gets a little touchy feely.
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Steam rose in even, wisping tendrils as the water finally settled in the tub. The smell of jasmine and honeysuckle filling the room. The low light from the candles cast an amber glow on every surface. You let out a blissful sigh as you sank further into the tub. This bath was just the thing to settle and soothe not only your spirit but body after a long day of riding with Aemond.
Your husband’s fondness for riding was second only to you; although some days it was hard to tell which was his favorite. Had he had his way, he would be up in the skies from dusk until dawn.
“You said you would behave if I let you share my bath with me.”
Aemond smirked behind you. The prince seated with his back against the edge, you in his lap, as you both soaked in the warm water. He may not be able to get his way about the skies, but he very easily got his way about invading your bath. Conning his way in with promises of decorum and chastity.
“I’m not doing anything, issa jorrāelagon.” Even as he said that his fingers brushed again the moist skin of your shoulder. Innocent enough, but also somehow not very innocent at all.
“I’m too sore Aemond. Being in the saddle all day makes my thighs ache.”
“I could make your thighs ache a different way.”
He coiled around your shoulder towards your face for a kiss, but you playfully push him away. “I said no Aemond.”
“Not even if I massage them for you?” His fingertips dance over the top of your left leg. Eager and ready to make good on his offer.
“What manner of fool do you take me for?”
“No fool,” he assured you, “just irresistible.”
Your skin flushed from more than just the water. Squirming a little between his legs. “Perhaps, if you let me soak in peace, I will feel differently before bed.”
Aemond sighed. Both of his arms coming out of the water to brace against the side of the tub. Clearly moping, but also clearly willing to accept you said no. “You know patience is not one of my virtues.”
“I know.” You agree, but give him a kiss still for his troubles. “But hopefully silence is. At least for the next 20 minutes my love.”
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twinklelilstarkey · 3 months ago
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Tutor: Unveil
Words: 9k+ Summary: Here comes another party organized by Rose, meaning you cannot have your parents near people who threaten your peace. You can't even go to the bathroom, for goodness sake! Warnings: Female!Reader. Mentions of secret relationships and hiding things from friends and family (and finally, their consequences). SMUT (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Very quick, literally a quickie, because I am so rusty at smut now. It will include some rough manhandling and clawing at the skin, but nothing too bad). Insults. Slut shaming. A/N.: I'm back!! Please know that I want to keep writing, I really do. But my professors absolutely hate me, because I have so much to do. This is like no other semester. Hope you enjoy this!
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I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.
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With your hands constantly smoothing down your silk dress, you can’t take your eyes off your reflection. You have touched up your make-up maybe three times since you’ve ‘finished’ getting ready and adjusted the more than adjusted dress for the, hopefully, last time.
You have no idea what it is. You feel weird. You feel nervous. Or maybe just anxious. There is something about going to a party with your parents after everything that has happened that makes you want to crawl into bed and only come out when everything has already happened.
Another sole reason your blood pressure has been sky high lately has to do with the conversation you’ve had with your mother in the car about planning something with ‘the girls’. For the last few days, she always remembered it at the worst moments. You have always found a good enough reason for her to not reach out to Kristy or her mother for said plans, but you’re not so sure that today will be possible to do it, given that they will see each other in person. Your mom and her mom have always been friendly to each other and have always liked each other’s company. They will surely plan something like an evening altogether. That is, of course, if her mother hasn’t heard anything about you yet. She too has never been too enthusiastic with Cameron & Co.
A knock on your bedroom door makes you look over your shoulder, and your father walks in. He gives you a sweet smile once he sees you by the mirror and holds his hand in your direction.
“Got to go. Mom is getting impatient.” He says while you take his hand.
You grab your purse on your way out of the bedroom, reaching for it at the last second as you can already hear your mother pacing around the house. You check the time before reaching her, making sure you are not the reason why she is like that, but, as expected, the scheduled time isn't for another 20 minutes. Therefore, you will get there before everyone else.
Your mother is still pacing when you reach her. She has a cream-colored dress, make-up, and hair done with way too much precision, but the look on her face would be enough to make you run to a mirror again.
“Finally!” she says, waving her arms in the air with a sigh.
Her eyes make sure to look you up and down, and her lack of criticism almost makes you cheer out loud. You know you won’t get a compliment with her bubbling with so much stress, so the fact that she has nothing bad to say about you is enough to let out a breath.
After your mother does her last walk around the house to make sure everything is in her purse and everything is locked, you all start to walk out to get into the car. You reach for your phone when you take your seat at the back of the car, and your father begins to back out of the driveway. The car is in complete silence, just as it usually is.
Now that you are officially done with classes, the graduation ceremony is just days away. Meaning, that not only will you soon be far, far away from certain people without school forcing you to be in their presence, but you also have been bombarded with texts from Patty and Topper, who have shared with you all sorts of ideas for the parties that they will be attending. All those texts are in the weird group chat that you have been added to, but Rafe, much to his confusion, was not.
You smile down at some of the messages and make sure to not leave them on read for too long before answering them quickly. These moments of calmness and smiles don't last too long, given that you get a message from Kristy, making you put down your phone to hopefully not let it mess up with your mood again. But, yet again, you were too late.
The trip to the location of the party is a little over 15 minutes, and you try not to pay any mind to any anxious thoughts after that. Because, maybe, just maybe, there is nothing to worry about. Nothing to be scared of, and no reason to want to lock your parents in a room for the entirety of the night.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. You got this under control.
After some time, and a little traffic, the car finally comes to a stop. Your dad helps you out of the car, and as soon as you all stand outside, you can tell that you were some of the firsts to get there. There are almost no cars in the parking lot, and that would be with counting the workers’ cars too.
Before you can even walk all the way to the front door of the building, Rose has already pushed the door open and smiled to greet you. Rose and your mother exchange the classic two kisses on their cheeks – or better, the air close to their cheeks. A handshake with your father. Yet when she reaches you, she pulls you into a hug. Your mother didn’t seem to be able to look away.
“I am so happy that you could make it,” Rose says to you when you two pull away from the hug. “Seriously, it was so hard making all these teenagers want to go to an event with their families.” She turns to your mother to include her in the conversation with a quick roll of her eyes, but she simply smiles dryly at her. “Anything that just doesn’t include alcohol makes everyone want to stay home, these days.”
“Oh,” your mom exclaims, surprised. “Yes, that is true. Youth, these days. But I do not believe that it would be my little girl’s” and, while still talking, she puts her arm around you in a side hug that is so out of character that it feels nearly comical, “style to do anything like that. These types of events are so much better.”
You offer her a small smile in return, and Rose doesn’t seem to notice how tense everything just seemed to get.
The two women begin a conversation in front of you not too long after. They talk about how good you did in your finals and even how Wheezie was so good in hers. All due to your hard work, of course. They talked and talked, and your mother’s arm did, eventually, come down back to her side. You walk over to stand by your dad as they continue their discussion, all while everyone still stands by the door.
“Is your whole family here, already?” Your mother asks her, making your ears perk up.
“Except for Ward, yes. He had to leave to get something at home. But the kids are all here. Well, except for Rafe, of course,” she chuckles dryly, “He’ll get here in his own time.” Rose says with a shrug before turning back to you and offering you a smile, “And I do believe some of your friends from school have gotten here as well.”
Great.
You fake a smile of excitement, and Rose takes that as her ticket to take you all inside the building. The warm breeze from outside is quickly substituted by the cold AC as soon as you get in, and, only after a few hallways, do you step into the massive room of tonight’s event. One with a tall ceiling and a wall made of windows, all of them facing the sea not too far from the building’s garden in the back. One of the windows is open and some people stand outside, some of them smoking, while others just enjoy the view while talking.
Even so, the room is quite empty. The ones inside stand on the sides and corners of the room, but, due to its size, the room feels empty still.
Your eyes scan the room, looking at each person carefully, trying to see how much damage could be made in the first few minutes already.
A little polite conversation later, Rose steps away with a soft ‘talk to you later’. Having looked around enough, relief washes over you when you notice that the friends that she had mentioned had only been one of the girls and some somewhat known faces from school. Nothing like Kristy, or the rest of the group. You know they won't do a thing when alone, that is, of course, if they aren't Kristy.
Your parents walk over to the table with the drinks, and you follow them, only listening to their conversations to keep you entertained.
The room is indeed fabulously decorated. The walls are decorated with amazing and grand pieces of art. Certainly replicas of sorts, expensive looking, nonetheless. Rose, as she tends to do, filled the room with all sorts of flowers and large tables with white tablecloths and glass dishware. At some tables, there are all sorts of mocktails, juices, and fancy herbal and fruitful waters. Other tables have food with all sorts of snacks, which the younger family members seem to have no shame in already having their fill.
You can see the people out in the garden from the drinks table. You can see Wheezie out with her friends, as well as Sarah being annoyed by Topper, who is beginning to be pulled away by one of her friends. They all are dressed formally. Wheezie in soft pink and Sarah in yellow. You look over to check on Rose which is in a light purple. What kind of color would they make Rafe wear?
You smile down at your own thoughts and hide it by looking around, purposefully ignoring a stare from a family that you do not want to interact with – the only girl and her parents, who might as well just call you a devil from where they stand in the room, given the distaste in their faces.
By the time an hour passes, you notice how slowly time goes by. You sure are in for a night.
(…)
It has been three hours, and you've finally decided that you need to walk away from your parents. You have shaken so many hands of coworkers and possible business partners of both your parents, that your mind has begun to blur their faces into one ever since you’ve met the seventh person. Their conversations have been about business and sales, and you swear that if you hear any sort of vocabulary from their field again, you will begin to rip your hair out in chunks.
So, a walk it is.
Your heels click on the tiled floors as you look for a bathroom. No one is in the hallways, most people just stay in the main room or the outside, where younger socialization is seemingly kept. None which you’ll be able to make today, for the looks of it.
You have thought about talking to someone other than your parents, but the possibility of it upsetting them, given your new crowd, always made you take a step back. There aren’t many people you could speak to. Rafe’s friends, who have naturally become yours too, have all gotten here in the last hour. Most who noticed gave you a simple wave, which you could only nod to because you knew you couldn’t be caught waving at Topper Thorthon by your own mother. You might as well just walk right back into the room nude, and you’ll get the same reaction - in other words, complete horror. Patty, on the other hand, had walked over to you to greet you as she normally would, with a hug, and that sparked the curiosity of your mother a bit too much. That is, of course, because she has no idea who she is.
Other sorts of company, also known as your past best friends, have also gotten here, and each time you notice them walking in the room, you would simply spark a conversation with your parents so they wouldn’t look at the newcomer. But you know it, you’re running out of things to talk about. Especially since some of the girls haven’t gone outside and are still standing by their parents, talking amongst themselves. One is easy to hide from your parents, but a group, not so much. The idea of them already talking to them is making chills run down your spine.
Truly, the only thing keeping you sane is the fact that Kristy hasn't arrived. Therefore, there is nothing that can truly hurt you while she isn't here... right?
You walk through the hallways, letting out a sigh, still looking for a more distant bathroom that doesn’t have a line of women you could possibly very well know at the door.
After looking at many lines, you decide to try upstairs instead, because, realistically, you will need at least five minutes of silence in that room to get back into the right mentality to handle the rest of the night, and you will not be able to do that with a group of women ready to break down a door and run in to pee.
You begin to walk towards the front of the building, where you spot even more people who have begun to arrive at the party and are following Rose as she continues to be her pleasant self to her guests. You spot the two big staircases at the front, and you grab onto the railing before beginning to go up.
Suddenly, a whistle echoes down the hallways and up your staircase and you freeze.
“The party is down here, miss.” The voice says.
If only you hadn’t recognized it, you would’ve actually listened to the observation and made your way down the staircase, hiding your embarrassment and complete horror of being caught. But the fact that you did recognize it only made you want to throw a shoe at your boyfriend for scaring you the way he did.
“What am I, a dog, for you to be whistling at?” You say while turning around to face him, while he stands by the front door, meters away from you and down a few steps.
Rafe tilts his head up at you, and you know the comment is eating at him. You're teasing him. You smile as you see him peek into the hallway Rose disappeared into, and you can’t help but let out a shriek when he starts running up the steps to grab you.
Rose must already be on her way back to the door to welcome the new family coming inside, and you have her stepson ready to tackle you to the ground, so you have double the motivation to grab onto your dress and the railing and try to get away from your man.
You laugh your way up the stairs, but you don’t even get to the last step before he’s able to grab onto you. Now, do you think it was a fair fight? With you in heels and a long dress? Absolutely not, and you make sure to let him know that as he casually puts you over his shoulder and gets you both off the stairs - all while basically making you think you’re going to die for being upside down on the last step. You have screamed twice since he's gotten here. Rose would kill you if she knew.
“Please put me down.” You say, defeated and seriously out of breath from both running and laughing.
You know that Rose must have heard the both of you, you just hope she doesn’t know it is you who was just laughing hysterically. You’re sure she heard the damned loud whistle and rolled her eyes to the back of her head in response, knowing very well whose it was – the only son that is almost 4 hours late to a party his own family is organizing. And now that same man is kidnapping a girl into the upper floor, how nice. You wouldn't blame her if she stopped inviting him. Not at all.
Halfway through a hallway and during your millionth plea, Rafe finally puts you down, making your hair fall in all sorts of directions over your face, getting a genuine laugh out of him. Your hands begin to try and smooth down the strands back into their original place, but Rafe continues to smile down at you.
“Don’t you look beautiful today, baby?” He says in a dramatic tone, making your hands stop working through your mess of hair and giving him a glare, which in his eyes seems more like a pout.
Taking pity on you, Rafe helps you with your hair to the best of his ability, and you begin to look around for a bathroom.
Leaving Rafe behind and knowing fully well that he will follow you without hesitation, you walk over to a door that, thankfully, is unlocked, and the room is empty. Rafe walks in with you, and you only let out a breath when you hear close the door behind him.
Rafe watches you through the reflection as you fix your hair further and then check on your makeup. It takes quite a few moments of silence before you turn and lean back on the counter. With your back to the mirror, and the temperature of the cold stone going through the fabric of your dress, Rafe steps in front of you, and the warmth of his hands on your hips adds a nice contrast.
You look up at him, analyzing his face, but you notice how he leans in for a kiss, making you turn your head at the last second, forcing him to lay a kiss on the corner of your mouth instead.
“I have lipstick on.” You whisper at him, “Don’t you dare ruin it.”
“I would never.” He whispers back but kisses your cheek again instead and then continues to go down your jaw, neck, and then shoulder.
You fight the urge to close your eyes to the feeling of his lips and look at him while he moves, you haven’t taken a good look at him yet. He looks good, like he always does, in a dark blue suit with no tie and a pristine white dress shirt underneath, his hand has his usual gold ring, and his buzzcut looks just made.
“We’re matching.” You tell him, a smile more than evident in your voice, making him raise his head up to look at you. “Why blue?”
“Ask Sarah, she was the one that chose my suit.” He says, creating a slightly bigger distance between your faces.
You lay your hands over his shoulders, but they eventually find their way to his cheeks. Your thumbs caress his skin, and he continues to stare down at your face.
“You look really handsome tonight.” You whisper to him again.
“I do?” He asks, and you nod, making him lean into you again, threatening to ruin your lipstick yet again.
“And incredibly needy too.”
Even Rafe couldn’t hold in his chuckle at your observation.
“Someone ignored my texts for-”
“We texted this morning, Rafe!” You say a little louder this time, with a smile that almost made Rafe’s heart jump out of his chest. “Since when did you become such a sappy boyfriend?”
Rafe did not even have to say a single word, the expression on his face of complete repulse for your choice of adjective is enough to make you smile widely at him. He sends you a glare as a response which only makes you laugh harder. Your hands come down to his shoulders again, and you give him a kiss on his cheek before leaning away from the counter.
“I have to go back down soon.” You tell him.
Rafe leans in closer to you, his hands forcing your body glued to his, making you lose all idea of cold from before. You are warm all over. “Why?”
“My parents are here, can’t have them talk to a certain someone just yet.”
Rafe doesn’t answer out loud, he just continues to look through your face, deep in thought. You watch him as he does it, memorizing every inch of his skin in return. Rafe had noticed your mood while watching you walk the hallway downstairs. You are deep in thought and visibly buzzing with anxiety. Knowing now that the root of all your problems is just a floor down from yours, makes a lot more sense than whatever he had thought of.
“They’re here?” You only nod, kissing his jaw and pulling back to look him in the eyes, “Have they said anything?”
“Not a single thing, only stared for a while.” Rafe pulls you impossibly closer to him, and you let him. “They might already be doing it right now.”
“Why did you leave?”
“I was driving myself insane. Had to talk to way too many people, and I can’t even remember a single name.” Rafe grins at your words, but you sigh before continuing, “I want to go home already.”
“But the party just started.”
You roll your eyes at him and his audacity, and he smiles down at you. Your lips crack a small grin too, and you feel one of his warm hands move from your back to your hip, squeezing it through the thin fabric and holding onto you tightly. Your entire body sizzles at his touch, and you lean closer, completely forgetting your own promise to not smudge your lipstick.
“We shouldn’t.” You whisper against his mouth.
“We really shouldn’t,” Rafe emphasizes with a shake of his head and a big smile, but that is just before he closes the gap between the two of you. Your lips touch, and your hands smooth over to his head, smoothing over his short hair.
Rafe lifts you up to the counter and pulls your dress upwards to your waist to help him stand between your legs with the slit of the fabric. You sigh against his lips at his touch over your smooth thighs, and, under the dress, Rafe grips onto your skin and pulls you directly into his hips, making you moan against his mouth.
His hands look for a certain piece of fabric, your panties, under your dress as he pulls you against him, but all he feels is skin. He brings his hand up and grips your face with the same force as he did your hips, thumb digging into your cheek as he held your jaw.
He pulls you back, noticing just a slight smudge of your lipstick, and you smile maliciously at him, knowing exactly why he’s behaving the way he is. He lets out a dry laugh, not finding any sort of humor like you did, and kisses you a single time before whispering directly into your lips, “You’re such a—”
“Panty lines, Rafe, panty lines!” You interrupt him without being able to contain your smile.
Your lips melt into a kiss again, more aggressive this time due to Rafe’s discovery, and you can’t help but continue to smile into the kiss, moving your shoulders until you feel the dress’ strap slide down your skin. Rafe’s hands slide from your jaw to your neck, and your hands slide down his torso all the way to his belt, currently almost glued to you too because of how tightly Rafe holds you to him.
You pull his belt to get him closer to you and finally pull at the buckle to undo it. Rafe’s hands let you go for a second, he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, only separating your lips for those seconds and coming back to you.
You finish undoing his belt and move onto the button and zipper, while Rafe’s hands move back to hold your hips. Rafe groans against your mouth, and you grab onto his boxers, dragging your nail over the elastic band. You smile at the way he responds, pulling you roughly towards him and grabbing onto your skin as if it’s his lifeline.
Your hands pull his clothing down, and Rafe is quick to lift a hand and push yours away from him. Your lips don’t separate through it all, and Rafe brings his hand in between your legs. His touch immediately rips a reaction out of you, making you moan louder against his lips while your back stretches with pleasure.
Rafe’s fingers drag from your clit to your entrance, not ever stimulating you on purpose, just moving so, so slow that you consider biting him in response. You turn your head to break the kiss, and Rafe just continues kissing down your jaw and neck, as if unphased. Your breathing is heavy, and your heart is beginning to seem to want to beat out of your chest, but your lips are only able to whisper a single plea, “Rafe, please, we have to be quick.”
“Please, what?” He teases like he always does.
You groan, naturally, and he smiles, “Please, Rafe, just fuck me”
In response to your words, Rafe did not hold back. He glues back your lips to his, and the finger over your clit pulls away, leaving you cold and waiting. His hand goes back to your hip to hold you in the exact position he wants you in, and, right after pulling his hand away again, you just feel his dick lining up with your entrance and sliding into you.
The sensation almost feels like too much, making you pull away from the kiss and bring your hands to his shoulders. Your hands hold onto his skin, underneath the opened suit, and Rafe groans at the feeling of your nails on his skin. He doesn’t move, once he’s able to slide entirely into you, and all you hear for those seconds of no movement is both of your elaborate breathings.
Rafe breaks the silence, “Fuck, you feel so good.” making you chuckle and pull him into a kiss.
As soon as he begins to move, you almost feel as if your body is not your own. The pleasure is too much, and you can’t help but pull Rafe closer to you. His movements are steady and slow at first, but, at this moment, it almost feels like enough. Something about being worried and anxious throughout the night made you feel as if your body is now overly sensitive to everything that Rafe touches.
Your moans aren’t words, just whimpers and sounds of pleasure, never too loud and even sometimes a whisper. Rafe looks down at you, as one of his hands moves to wrap his arm around your back to support your body close to his. Your hair looks perfect again, and your lips only have a slight smudge at a corner, almost unnoticeable. One of your dress’ straps has slid off your shoulder, making his half-closed eyes stare at your jiggling flesh. He pulls you in closer and speeds up ever so slightly, letting the sound of skin slapping and your wet pussy fill his ears and consume him.
You lean your forehead on his shoulder, as one of your hands slides out of his suit and wraps around his bicep. His cock, moving back and forth, his tight hold on your body, your naked chest now glued to his, it seems like too much for you to even open your eyes. It is as if flames consume your body, from your legs to your head, centering around your stomach. It burns at your insides, and all you can think of is how good it feels.
You know you have to be quick about it. Your biggest worries are just a few steps away, so possibly able to find you and what you’re doing, bringing to absolute ruin. But, now, you can't bring yourself to care. And especially not when Rafe moves to grab onto your face and brings your lips to his, making your mind go fuzzy, and your heart flip with love and pleasure for this man.
The kiss starts with form, but it loses it within seconds with some of your moans and Rafe’s groans. Both of you are lost, and getting worse with each stroke and each kiss. You have obviously gotten wetter, you both can hear it, and Rafe can’t help but reach underneath your dress to touch you.
You let out a gasp, which turns into a moan when he touches your clit, and he simply holds your face in place, unwrapping his arm from your body. Your hands reach to hold onto the counter of the bathroom, and the cold stone bites at your skin once you touch it.
Rafe kisses you slowly one last time and lets go of your face before he speeds up his thrusts a last time, making his movements fast and rough, but sloppy. Yet you swear that you have never felt better. His cock reaches deep into you and with each stroke, it touches where it should. His finger slides with ease over your swollen clit, and your pussy squeezes him in response to all of it.
Rafe’s fist closes with all its might as he keeps going and you moan his name, close to his ear. Both of you are beginning to break your first sweat as the peak of your pleasure gets closer and closer. You can almost taste it. Rafe pulls you back to him, maybe a bit too forcefully, but you couldn't care less. You moan into his skin as he gets you closer and closer to your orgasm, and your hands claw at his skin for it.
He leans in close to your ear and whispers, “Come on, baby, come for me.”
After just another two thrusts, you sob out a moan into his neck and Rafe puts your mouth to his in a kiss. Your hands reach for his face, even while still reacting to your too-powerful orgasm, and he follows you right after, pounding into you with a force you know will leave you sore, but for a cost that you could accept any day.
As both your heart rates slow down and your breathing calms, your mouths go back into a normal kiss, your usual slow and loving. Rafe wraps both of his arms around you, pulling your flesh impossibly closer to his, and you relax close to him, ignoring what could possibly await downstairs.
(…)
It took you embarrassingly long to fix your makeup before you got down the stairs with Rafe. No one is walking in anymore, which can only mean that it is finally late enough for anyone else to come in fashionably late.
Your heels click as you walk a little too fast due to your anxiety, Rafe stays a little behind, letting you in the room before he does. You push the door open, and the sound of all the conversations around the room hits you all at once. You look over at Rafe before you walk in, and he nods at you to go.
You walk through a few groups of people and look over at where you left your parents, only to find them in the same place - your father just a few steps behind. You fight the urge to smile a bit and begin to walk towards them, but your legs stop moving when noticing Kristy with her arm crossed with your mother, as her mother stands right next to her too.
All three of them are in a deep conversation, but smiles are all around, which only soothes your soul a slight bit.
Kristy’s mother, Natasha, is another type of woman entirely. In all the years of your friendship, you had only seen her a few times, always out in business. She is a hauntingly beautiful woman. And, yes, even after so many years, you too are scared of her, while your mother never seems to get enough of her.
“Oh, there you are!” Your mother says, noticing you right away. You walk closer to them, trying to hide how stiff your body feels due to the adrenaline coursing through you, “Are you feeling alright? You were gone for a bit.”
“Yeah, just a stomachache, I think.” You tell her, “But I’m feeling much better now.”
“Do you think it’s something you could’ve eaten?” She asks, and your eyes move over to Kristy who is obviously staring at you, hard.
“Maybe.” You shrug at your mom, ready to change the topic of conversation.
“I told you to put the leftovers in the fridge yesterday, but, no, you just had to do it when you felt like it, right, missy?” She teases, looking over at Natasha to make her join in on the motherly teasing session.
But, when you look over at her, you would have to be blind to not notice the way she is looking at you. Different from the way she used to, which could only mean one thing.
“Oh,” She plays along, hiding her staring slightly better, this time. “Kristy is just the same, you know? Always does things on her own time, no matter what I tell her.”
Kristy would’ve rolled her eyes at her mother’s words if she wasn’t occupied staring at someone in the distance. Her silence was so out of character that you weren’t the only one to notice her distraction, because your mother looked faster, and her mouth followed at light speed.
“How can a son arrive so late to an event organized by his own family? A shame, really.” You tense further as she shakes her head.
Kristy tenses too at her words, quickly looking away and down at her feet for a few seconds in shame. Having had enough of her shit, you can't help but continue to glare at her.
Your mother, oblivious, does not notice the tension building up, but you’re thankful for that as she keeps herself busy by bad-mouthing your boyfriend instead.
“No surprise that Rose doesn’t bring him to so many of her parties,” She says, “I would do the same.”
“What a disgrace of a boy...” Natasha says but while directly facing you, almost as if trying to talk to you about him. “Do you know him?”
“What?” You ask her, trying to hold back your defensive tone.
“Rafe Cameron,” She reminds you, “Do you know him?”
Your mother looks at you, intrigued by the conversation. “Oh, no, not at all.” She answers for you.
“Are you sure?” Natasha asks you with a dip of her chin, making Kristy turn her head to her in shock. “He’s not too far from your age.”
“A year.” You tell her, and she nods, beginning to grin at your response. Your mother looks at you in interest but, of course, nothing malicious is crossing her mind, “I’ve talked to him before, yes.”
You can come to very much regret saying such a thing in a few seconds but, at the end of the day, if you ever want your mom to know of your relationship, she better start warming up to the idea that you at least know the guy.
“You have?” Your mother’s interest could not have been more peaked.
“Yeah,” You nod, noticing that Kristy’s shocked eyes have now come to face you too, “Not as bad as everyone says.” You shrug.
“Really?” Natasha asks, humor thick in her voice, but you ignore it and simply nod. “Oh, I’ve heard the opposite, that he and his friends are an absolute horror to talk to. Very rude, weren’t they, Kristy?”
Kristy’s eyes almost pop out of her head once her mother mentions her name and her experiences.
“Oh-oh, uhm…” She hesitates, making your mom almost want to shake her to spit it out. “I didn’t have the greatest conversations, no.”
“How come?” Your mom pressures her, pulling at their crossed arms, urging her to tell all, but Kristy is nowhere near ready to let it out.
“Just some parties, you know.” She shrugs, “He must have been drunk a few of those times, so he wasn’t the nicest.”
“What kind of things did he say to you?” Your mom asks.
“Oh, not to me. But my friends, for example… One day, they were looking for someone.” You fight the urge to punch her, this time, “And asked him- because he is… friends... with her.” She takes a deep breath, “They asked him about her, but he just told them to ‘f’ off and all that.”
“Who were they looking for again, sweetheart? His girlfriend, was it?” Her mother asks, only looking at her daughter in fake curiosity.
Your mother could not even contain her shock, letting out a gasp so loud that some people around you turned to look at her. You, on the other hand, feel as if someone had just thrown you into an iced lake. “He has a girlfriend?!”
“Oh, yes, he does.” Natasha says, “Quite a shock to me too when I heard.”
“Do you happen to know who it is?” She says, leaning in as if to know a secret.
You physically butt in by putting your hand in between them, stopping Natasha from opening her mouth any further and making the two of them look at you.
“It’s his private life, we shouldn’t talk about it.” You say, with a tone so serious that it made your mom notice some of the attention you all were gathering around you.
She smiles at the people, who turn away right after, and, with a lower tone of voice, she says, “Oh, honey, please. That boy has never been private a day in his life.” Your mother insists, “It’s nice of you to try and be civil but with Rafe Cameron?”
“You’re not being fair, mom.” You tell her, letting her continue to think of you as just a nice person trying not to dirty her pure and innocent ears with gossip. “You don’t know him.” You look at the other two women.
Kristy listens to your words and notices her mother’s silence. She did not expect her mother to try and provoke you as much as she did, but Kristy can only blame herself for that. She shouldn’t have told her everything she knew, but it had been a bad day, and she thought she could trust her mother to stay quiet. After all, she had always seemed to like you. Yet, there was something about your words just now that sounded like they were meant for her too.
After all, you were defending Rafe from her. Again.
“You know him that well?” Kristy asks you, after the seconds of silence – and delusion from you, since you thought it had been enough to calm down the conversation and delay it for another time.
You look at her with eyes that could only mean two things to any onlooker, either that you were offended by her words or the complete opposite, that you were pleading with her to just stop whatever she and her mother were doing.
“I wouldn’t say that well.” You say, slowly, trying to measure your every word, so it wouldn’t lead to any misunderstandings. “But I have talked to him and seen him a lot of times. I’m at his home for a lot of hours, remember?”
“That’s right, you tutor the Wheezie girl.” Your mother suddenly remembers, “But, the rumors about him can’t be all that big of a lie. So many people tell them. A new one each week.”
“But... Like you just heard, he just got himself a girlfriend. Even you were surprised.” She nods, not understanding where you’re going with this. “If he can get himself a girl to date after all the rumors about him, maybe he’s not that bad.” You shrug.
You continue to look at your mom, in silence, watching as she slowly bites the bait towards a more open-minded and not-so-horrible mental image of Rafe, but you watch it all burn down in front of your eyes, right as Kristy starts to speak.
“That really depends on what type of girl you imagine him dating,” She says with a chuckle as if finding what you said cute or amusing. Deep down she is boiling in anger with the way you dodge every question with ease, like you've been hiding for so long, you already became accustomed to it all. “You’re imagining him with a well-mannered girl, about his age, a great student, and with great friends that can only be a good influence on him—”
“Kristy,” You warn her.
“But the reality is that we don’t know who the girl is.” She continues in a tone that not even a saint would believe to be truthful, “His girlfriend can very much be like any other slut. Someone who can only match his energy, someone who can only ruin herself further than she has already ruined.”
She looks you in the eyes as she says those exact words, fueled with rage after hearing you say all those things about how everyone just misunderstands Rafe.
“That is…” Your mother says and hesitates, not loving the words used to describe the hypothetical girl just now.
“What’s wrong?” Kristy asks you, not even hiding her tone this time, “Stomachache, again?”
Your breathing is uncontrollable, and your heart is beating rapidly. You’re not sure if it’s adrenaline, anger, heartbreak, anxiety, or everything all at once. All of what is being unsaid is being left in the air, like a toxic cloud, which everyone just watches you seem to be the only one in the conversation to be able to breathe it in.
“Something like that.” You say with gritted teeth with a short smile.
Your mother’s face twists with worry and Rafe is quickly forgotten. She turns to you, but you can’t take your eyes off the two women who appear to be practically orgasming with how they are loving to threaten to ruin your life with casual banter.
“We can go ask Rose if she has something for a stomachache, honey, would you like me to do that?” You don’t answer but try to shake your head, which goes unnoticed. “Or maybe in our car, maybe I have something for you to take.”
“I’m fine, mom, really.”
“What’s happening over here?” You hear your father’s worried voice behind you, which makes you turn to face him.
“She’s feeling sick—” Your mom tries to tell him.
“Sick? Did you eat something you shouldn’t?” He asks you, “Was it those leftovers? Honey, we’ve told you that you should put them in the fridge—”
“You should tell them the truth,” A voice interrupts your father, making you look at the two women again, your heart now at your stomach making you even more nauseous.
“What?” Your mother asks with pure confusion over her features, “What are you talking about?”
You look at the two mothers, both looking at each other, one with a know-it-all look, while the other is lost in absolute confusion.
“If it was my Kristy, I would’ve wanted her to tell me everything since day one.” She says, facing me again.
“Shut the fuck up.” You say to her, your volume low so as to not get any attention from anyone outside of this conversation, but your mother’s gasp might have gotten some looks right after, again.
“Apologize!” Your mother says to you, “You cannot speak to her this way, she’s your friend’s—”
“No,” Kristy says, only making your mother’s frown deepen. “Actually, you might not even know but we haven’t been friends for quite a few weeks, isn’t that right?” She smiles at you.
“What?” Your father asks, shocked to know that the once inseparable childhood best friends are no more.
“Tell them.” She tells you, making your eyes water, from anger, embarrassment, or complete horror that this is finally happening, but you fight the tears. “They deserve to know.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to hold in your need to gasp for a sob that you are holding in.
“Could either of you two just tell us what is going on, already?” Your father asks, leaning his hand on your back to try and offer you comfort, but his touch only repulses you, given what you are being forced to say.
Your panic rises as you’re unable to scream hysterically at the women in front of you to just disappear and mind their own business due to how many people surround you. How many of your parents’ friends and coworkers surround you, and how you would just embarrass them if you even dared to say half of what this woman and her daughter deserve to hear.
“Maybe we should go home,” You tell your dad, “I’m not feeling good.”
Your mother can’t even help but look at the two women in front of you sideways. She has known the women for years and has never seen them behave the way that they are behaving. But, again, she also has known you since you were born. You’re half of her. And she hasn’t seen you talk or act the way you are, right now.
“What is it that she’s talking about, honey?” Your mother pulls at you, worried but frightened too with what could be about to come out of your mouth.
“Let’s just go.” You tell your mom, feeling your entire burn in horror. They will know everything after today. There is no other way around it. “I'll tell you at home, please.”
Kristy's mother speaks again. “Just say it.”
She opens her mouth, but you make sure to speak over her, “You don’t know nothing about me or my life, you have no right—”
“Just like I don’t know your boyfriend, right?” She asks, and everything around you goes silent, “There... See? Not so hard.”
“Wha-what? What do you mean by that?” Your mom says, taking a step closer to her, hoping that she had misheard her.
Natasha does a short smile at your mother, and your father, having not been present during the past conversation, simply brushes his hand up and down on your back. He still does not understand a single thing of what they are saying, but he is worried about you.
No one says another word, and Natasha and her daughter walk out of the conversation. You recoil from your father’s touch and take a step back from both of your parents. Your breathing is beginning to sound strange to you, and your skin feels too hot to the touch even though chills run down your body. Your heart is breaking and being ripped out at the same time, and the world has begun to lose its center of gravity because it is suddenly too hard to stand.
Your mother continues to stand a step away from you, not moving, thinking to herself about how she and her own mind can be wrong. How this is not her reality, and how when she turns to face you, she will find you and Kristy, still as best friends, laughing at her face for being so dumb to even believe all of this. But she doesn’t. She turns, and she finds you pulling away from your father and walking away, ready to get out of the building.
She stands there, watching you walk out of the room, and notices that Kristy is following right behind. She can’t move or speak for a few seconds. Her husband stands beside her, asking her what the hell is going on, and in the corner of her eye, she sees him. She turns her head to him and watches him, with his blue suit just like her daughter’s dress and hair cut short. He has a charming smile on his face as he speaks to a group of men with his father on his side. He is acting unbothered and calm like he always does in these events.
As her heart continues to pound, her husband follows her eyes and stares confusingly at Rafe Cameron, trying to decipher what could be going on, but to no avail.
You forcefully clean your tears with your shaking hands and walk quickly down the hall towards the door to the outside. Right next to the door, you notice three people talking, but before you can even get close to them, a voice stops you.
“I didn’t mean for this to be like this,” Kristy says to you, and your blood boils at the sound of her voice,
“Oh, fuck you.” You exhale out the words at her, knowing the people in the room of the event won’t hear a thing, turning to face her. “You and your mother knew exactly what you were doing.”
“I didn’t want it to be today.” She shakes her head, not exactly sure what she should say to you first, “I just thought that your parents deserved the truth.”
“Oh my god, Kristy, shut up! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP with your 'could do no evil' attitude!! No one asked you for anything! I was going to tell my parents when it was safe for me to do so.” You try to hold in your tears, even when you know you have every right to cry, “You bitch, I probably don’t even have a house to live in right now, and all you care about is how you could justify your own stupid actions? Fuck you!” You try to turn to walk away again.
“I—” She tries to walk with you.
“No! Stop!” You tell her, holding out your hand, “You have said and done enough today, Kristy. I do not want to ever see you again. I will never forgive you for anything that you and your mother have done today.” You can’t even hold yourself back from both continuing and letting out some tears, “I am an adult, I have been an adult this entire time. I choose my own relationships, and you have nothing to do with it.”
“You know that is not why I don’t approve…”
“Exactly! Because I don’t need you to approve, Kristy. You are not my mother and you sure as hell aren’t my friend anymore. Your approval means absolutely nothing to me, right now. Maybe before you fucked up, absolutely, that is why I didn’t say anything before, but now?” You run your hands through your hair in frustration as you snicker at your own words, “And you called me a slut, for Christ’s sake. In front of my own fucking mother.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I don’t give a shit, Kristy!” You wave your arms in the air for emphasis, “I do not give a single shit about what you meant or even still want to mean. You have officially and royally fucked me for life, and you think you have the right to run after me?” You ask as you angrily wipe away your tears.
Kristy bites down her tongue and looks at you, “I just don’t understand how you think that what I did was so wrong. I get it, I should’ve let you have the conversation with your parents at your own time, but also look at my side. Why did you hide him? If he is so great, as you say, why did you hide him from us? From me?” She pauses, “We were best friends. I only wanted what was best for you. Of course, I wouldn’t like to hear that you were with him, but I would’ve still preferred to have you tell me the truth.” You turn your back to her and start walking again, “That is why I will never understand this relationship.”
“Do you really want to know, Kristy?” You say out loud, turning to face her again, noticing how she hasn’t moved closer, “Because it was fun. In the beginning, all of this was for fun. I had fun with him. I felt like I could do whatever the hell I wanted with my life without anyone judging me or thinking less of me. And it was a secret because it was all there was to it: fun! And, after everything, he was nice to me, and he was gentle with me.” You take a breath, “And since that moment on, I gave him more of me and, even when he royally fucked up too, he made sure to make up for it and stay by me.”
Kristy opens her mouth to twist your words, but you don’t let her.
“And before you even say. I do not give a shit if he drinks or if he fights, or if he does fucking coke every single day in his life, you know why? Because at the end of the day, he will come back to me and love me, and let me love him like he deserves to be loved.” You sniffle, “Rafe has not mistreated me a day in his life. He takes care of me, and he loves me, and that is all I could ever ask of him… And the fact that you couldn’t even try and get to know him- It really shows who I must choose to include in my life from now on.”
You take a breath and hear the door to the event open again, so you decide to end the conversation.
“Goodbye, Kristy.”
You turn again and walk over to the front door. When you walk closer, you notice that the three people who used to stand by the door have stopped talking, pretty sure right after you started screaming. You almost apologize as you walk past them, but you notice that one of them is Rose. You almost freeze once you realize that now she too knew of your relationship with Rafe, but your body is too locked into the idea of getting the hell out of there, so you simply look away and walk right off into the cold night’s breeze.
What the fuck are you going to do now?
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I finally did it! I honestly believe that this was the hardest chapter to edit. Everything just felt so cartoonishly evil, I hated it and had to basically rewrite it. I was so stressed, I really wanted it to be good. Hopefully, it was worth the wait!!
If you're wondering where I've been or if I'm okay, I'm more than okay. I'm just really busy with uni since my professors seem to hate me, and I had no inspiration for the entirety of my summer vacation. So, now, when my life is at the peak of stress, I decided to post this (just to add more stress, but anyway).
I really hope you enjoyed this! I am so sorry that it took me this long <3
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auroreliis · 4 months ago
Note
OMGGG!! Imagine platonic yandere batfam and reader on a vacation at the beach on a privat Island. Would you like to do headcanons/or a scenario (you can decide) of it. Hope you have a good day/night!!
Aaaaa anon <333 We had the same idea <3333 Thank you so much!!!
Perhaps a little late for summer, but inspiration only struck me now!!! <33
Also, I wrote this on like 4 energy drinks so forgive any spelling errors
Also it's not edited or anything...
If reception is positive on this one, I might make a part 2 with the other characters, so let me know if you'd be interested in that :)
Platonic Yandere!Batfamily
Summary: The Batfamily takes you to their private island for summer vacation.
It was just you. Just you and the gently lapping of the waves against the shore. Finally, some alone time. You had to make the most of it, since you were convinced that it wouldn’t last long.
It was about 8 o’clock in the morning. Bruce, Damian and Stephanie had left the island for whatever reason. Dick was either at home or at main beach, looking for you. You had come here about half an hour ago, surely they would’ve noticed your absence and the fact that you had left your phone at home. They were going to chip you eventually, you had come to accept that. However, you certainly enjoyed the time you had away from them whenever they couldn’t find you.
Jason was probably inside the villa. He wasn’t particularly fond of the heat outside. Either that or he’d gone swimming to cool off. Cassandra could’ve been looking for you. Maybe she had already found you.
Instinctively, you looked around. No one was in sight. Then again, she probably wouldn’t let herself be seen anyway.
The shore surrounding the island was wider at the main beach. Here, it was only a few feet wide. Behind you laid a sparse palm forest. Cassandra could certainly hide there. Whatever. You wouldn’t find her anyway. Besides, she would have probably come to talk to you. Probably.
Where would Duke and Tim be? At the villa, right? Where else would they be? Hopefully not looking for you.
Now that you had considered it, you were probably being observed by someone. And if you weren’t, then soon, you would be.
Whatever, just take your mind off it. Think of something else, like…the beautiful beach you’re at. Yes, it is much nicer to think about the gentle breeze. How wonderful. Just you, the beach and the ocean.
You hadn’t ever been at a private beach, so this was a unique experience. All of this belonged to you. Well it actually belonged to your new family, but still, it almost belonged to you.
Your soul nearly left your body at the sound of rustling coming from behind you.
“Hi”, Tim waved nervously after you had spotted him sneaking up on you.
You didn’t feel like answering, so you just turned back to the ocean. Wanting to engage with you somehow, Tim sat down on the sand next to you.
“So…what are you doing here?”, he kept looking at you, but you tried very hard to ignore his gaze.
“Just sitting.”
“Well, I can tell that, but why here? Why not on the main beach? Dick and Jason are scrambling to find you there.”
You had thought that was the case.
“I wanted to be alone.”, you emphasized every word.
He chuckles nervously. That was it. He didn’t say anything. That told you everything you needed to know: He was only here to annoy you.
“How did you even find me?”, you turned to him, your voice tinged with frustration.
“Find you? Oh, I wasn’t looking for you, I just wanted to go somewhere alone. You know, somewhere peaceful”, he turned to the ocean, as though in deep thought,”I get it, you know. You also want to be alone sometimes.”
If he “gets it”, then why is he always right behind you?
“I think you and I have a lot more in common than you think”, he said, crossing his arms on his propped up knees and turning to you.
The audacity to say something like that made you shudder.
“I think you’re full of shit”, you wouldn’t let him think that he’s getting closer to you. You could never like someone like him.
He tried to hide his frown, but you saw right through him,”That’s pretty mean, you know. I’m just trying to connect with you.”
He didn’t say it directly, but you knew his words were a warning. Bruce had talked to you about this. You were allowed to have your opinions about them, but being overly rude was a violation of the rules—rules, which he made up. In other words, if Tim thought you were being mean, then you were being mean. Against this, there would be no arguing.
Well, you know what they say: If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
“Ahem, I’m trying to connect with you…”, Tim persisted. You merely pursed your lips and nodded.
Noticing the awkward silence, he spoke again, ”So, will you go swimming?”
You shook your head.
He nodded, “Yes, it isn’t that hot yet, so there’s no need to cool off, I suppose.”
“Well”, he turned to you with a smile, his determination unwavering, “What would you like for breakfast? Alfred already started preparing something. Let’s head back and let him know what you want before he finishes.” But wouldn’t Alfred already know your preference? Perhaps this was Tim’s idea of “bonding”…
Still, his offer seemed tempting, since you hadn’t eaten yet. However, you weren’t jumping at the idea of going back only to place your order with Alfred and then get dragged off to go swimming by either Jason or Dick. Or worse, Tim.
Only now that you felt the hopelessness more intensely, did you begin to question things. Why did Tim always find you first. And how? They didn’t secretly chip you, did they?
…Did they?
Asking them wouldn’t result in an honest answer, so you didn’t really see a point in it. But how else would you figure it out?
You supposed the best person to ask was Bruce—AKA. Dad. He was likely the only person who would answer truthfully…as long as you behaved properly, that is.
“Is dad home yet?”, you turned to Tim, ignoring his previous rambling.
“Oh uh, I’m not sure. Shall we go check together?”, Tim scrambled to use every opportunity he was given, despite being caught off guard.
Perhaps it won’t get any better than this: Mediocre at best.
“Fine, let’s go.”
From the corner of your eye, after Tim grabbed your hand, you saw his smile widen remarkably.
The walk was long and awkward. Your older brother was desperately trying to talk about something, anything, that would catch your interest. Meanwhile, you were silent for the most part.
You had to admit, the villa was quite nice (if only it came without the addition of desperate, touch starved reprobates). Despite having your own room, you were forced to share a room—and often even a bed—with someone, unless you gained Bruce’s special favour for the day.
Luckily, Damian, the person you had to share the room with last night, had left very early in the morning. You weren’t sure how long ago, though, since the letter he’d written to inform you of his absence was…detailed, to say the least. Surely it would’ve taken him more than an hour to even come up with it, let alone write it. What a waster of paper. He didn’t have to say anything at all…
Entering the cool living room made you relax enough to finally engage with Tim, “Um…are Jay and Dick home, or…?”
In respone, he laughed, “Oh, no. I didn’t tell them that you’re with me. They’re probably still looking for you at the main beach. Dick went on about how we shouldn’t let you go anywhere alone in case you drowned or something like that.”
“Wait, what? But I know how to swim! Please tell Bruce that Dick’s rule is unnecessary…I already have enough restrictions, don’t I?” You panicked.
“Well…” He grinned, “That depends on what you’ll do for me in exchange.”
Even sighing was tiring for you at this point, “Fine, I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”
“Until the end of the week, or no deal.”
Holding back a groan, you responded, “Fine, whatever, just…work your magic, okay?” He nodded eagerly.
“Greeting, Masters. Breakfast is almost prepared”, Alfred appeared from the kitchen.
“Hi. Alfred, did you make-”
“Your favourite? Of course I did”, Alfred interrupted.
“…Right.” You should’ve known, to be fair, “Well, when will it be done?”
“When Master Bruce and Master Damian return”
“What about Steph? Isn’t she returning?” If she didn’t return at all, your life would improve considerably.
“Oh, Steph? She wanted to stay in the city for a bit, probably to buy you gifts or something”, Tim responds in Alfred’s stead.
“Gifts…? You don’t think she’ll, you know, make me play dress-up again, right?”, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. In this heat? There was no way you’d wear layers upon layers of clothes just because she was bored. You immediately left the living room, leaving Tim and Alfred behind.
While waiting for everyone to return to eat breakfast, you went and hid somewhere in the villa to avoid social interractions. And hopefully the heat. It was very hot.
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star-girl69 · 1 year ago
Text
I Can See You
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!
a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
I Can See You - Taylor Swift
(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)
warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
“What the hell are you all doing?”
You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.
Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.
He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.
He didn’t understand any other kind of power.
The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.
Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.
You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.
“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.
“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”
“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.
You need this.
“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”
You opt to ignore him.
“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”
He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.
“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.
The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.
“Oops,” he says.
He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.
—-
The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.
“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”
“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.
“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”
“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”
You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.
They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.
Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.
Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.
“I have a horrible idea.”
“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”
You and Tyla both gag.
“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”
Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”
You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.
No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”
Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.
“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”
“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.
“I would,” Jackie agrees.
“I mean, it might actually work.”
—-
You corner her the next day.
She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?
Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.
“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”
The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.
“What?”
“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.
She squints at you. “How?”
“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”
She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.
You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.
“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”
She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.
“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”
You ignore that.
“So, you’ll do it?”
“When are you gonna spell him?”
“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”
“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.
—-
The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.
Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.
You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.
Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-
“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”
And she is. She is so painfully pretty.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.
When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.
“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.
The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.
Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.
She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”
You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.
“Uh… yeah.”
She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.
“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”
“That’s fine.”
You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.
Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.
“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”
“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.
“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”
Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.
You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.
It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?
Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.
Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.
But you’re too deep in this now.
She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.
She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.
She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”
—-
You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.
There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.
You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.
“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”
He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.
You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.
“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”
You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.
You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.
“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.
His hand lands on your knee.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.
You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.
“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”
Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.
“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”
His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.
“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”
You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”
You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.
Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.
You stand in front of her, smiling softly.
“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”
“Of course I am.”
She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.
Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.
Everyone is staring.
It’s exhilarating.
You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.
Her breath tickles your neck.
“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”
You smile and place your hand over hers.
“I know.”
—-
The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.
How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?
You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.
Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.
You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.
After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.
You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.
“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.
“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”
“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”
“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”
She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.
“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.
None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.
Her smile is really pretty.
You laugh along with her after a second.
“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”
“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”
“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.
You don’t leave until the stars come out.
—-
The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.
You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.
“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”
He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.
“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.
“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”
Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.
He asks you questions and listens to your answers.
He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.
“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”
You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.
Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.
You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.
“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.
You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”
“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.
“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.
And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.
—-
All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.
The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.
You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.
It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.
—-
The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.
While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.
You’re okay with a bow.
Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.
As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.
“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”
It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.
“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,
“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.
“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”
He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.
He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.
“This one’s fit for a lady.”
You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.
You just need to find Clarisse.
“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.
Where the hell is Clarisse?
You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.
You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.
“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”
You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.
You’ve grown to like it.
He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.
You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.
You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.
You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.
The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.
But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.
She clears her throat and let’s go of you.
You back up.
“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”
You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.
“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”
“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.
—-
After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.
Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.
You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.
Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.
“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”
She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.
“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”
And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.
You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.
But you don’t.
You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.
The bow swings in your hand.
“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”
Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”
You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.
She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.
But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.
—-
On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.
Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.
Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.
You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.
Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.
He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.
“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”
Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.
“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”
She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.
Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.
She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.
“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.
Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.
“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.
“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”
“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.
Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.
Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.
Revenge feels to good, and you need this.
As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.
Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.
Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.
“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”
He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.
He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.
He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.
Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.
It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.
“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.
She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.
Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.
Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.
But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.
You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.
She stares pointedly at the distance.
“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.
—-
You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.
You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”
“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”
“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”
You sit down on the bed next to hers.
“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”
“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”
She slips off her armor.
“I’m not something to you.”
She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.
“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”
You leave silently and you cry in the woods.
—-
When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.
“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.
Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.
Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.
No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.
They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.
When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.
How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?
You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.
But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.
But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.
You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.
Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.
“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.
The words hurt. You say them anyways.
“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”
“Y/N,” Tyla coos.
“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”
—-
You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.
You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.
Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.
You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.
But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.
But you might just be making that up.
Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.
You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.
Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.
You’re alone at the stone table.
Xavier sees that as an opportunity.
Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.
He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.
“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”
“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.
“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.
You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.
You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.
—-
There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.
It even makes you feel a little excited.
“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”
“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”
“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.
Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”
“Supportive,” you muse.
Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”
“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.
Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.
You look around the room.
Most of your siblings are wearing worse.
And you need to get your mind off her.
“I’m wearing that.”
Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.
You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.
—-
The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.
You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.
Everything is so funny in the firelight.
Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.
There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.
“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”
Your heels sink into the dirt.
“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.
You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.
“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.
“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.
“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”
Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”
“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”
You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.
“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.
And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.
Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.
“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”
She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.
“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”
She laughs, holding you up.
“Oh, you’re drunk.”
“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.
Her face falls.
It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.
“Y/N, I-”
You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.
“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.
They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.
You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.
“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.
You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.
You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.
You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.
“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.
“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”
“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”
He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.
His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.
He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.
You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.
When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.
She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.
Good.
You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.
His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.
When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.
His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.
He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.
“N-not here. Not yet.”
His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.
“Maybe later,” you whisper.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.
“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.
“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”
He’s ripped away from you.
You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.
You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.
Xavier only seems to find it funny.
“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”
She punches him again. Again.
“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”
One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.
“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”
She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.
“Clarisse-”
“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”
A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.
“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.
You see it fade from his eyes.
It shouldn’t be.
You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.
“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.
He holds his hands to his already red face.
“You’re a fucking witch.”
Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.
Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.
—-
She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.
She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.
“Do you need something?” you mutter.
“I was selfish,” she starts.
You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.
“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”
It wasn’t true.
“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”
You place your hand on the grass next to you.
She sits, you don’t look at each other.
“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”
You smile.
“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”
“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”
“Did you mean it?”
She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.
“Mean what?”
“That it wasn’t true.”
“It wasn’t true.”
You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.
“I-I was just angry, and I-”
You’re sick of hearing her talk.
It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.
Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.
The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.
You pull away.
“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.
It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.
When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.
You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.
You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.
—-
y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before
clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl
clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)
—-
y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!
clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!
—-
clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up
—-
clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE
literally everyone: YOUR girl????
clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him
everyone: not a logical solution???
—-
shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM
also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison
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blackynsupremacy · 4 days ago
Text
SICK DAYS WITH
CLARK KENT
HEADCANONS
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pairing: older!smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader
summary: clark nurses you back to health when you feel under the weather.
contains: fluff, established relationship, clark being a green flag, reader can imagine any clark ofc.
a/n: i missed writing for him sm. i’m going through this rn, so writing this made me feel a little less worse. please enjoy while i try to sleep this off!
taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @paisholotus @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @ellethespaceunicorn
• there’s nothing worse than waking up with a sore throat, fever, chills, and a stuffed nose.
• you groan in agony as you feel like absolute garbage.
• clark is stirred by your sound and turns to you with a gaze of concern.
• he takes one glance at your peaked face.
• it doesn’t take x-ray vision for him to know that you’ve come down with something.
• he feels your forehead and as soon as it feels hot as the sun, he immediately calls in the daily planet for both of you.
• those headlines and deadlines were gonna have to wait because to clark, your safety and your health were his top priority.
• he urges you to stay in bed because with him around, you won’t have to lift a finger.
• he makes sure that you have the necessities like tissues, water, cough drops, saltines, and ginger ale. (ifykyk)
• he waits on you hand and foot.
• whether you like it or not, he’s making you an appointment to the doctor later on. home remedies can only do so much.
• he cooks for you a soup that’s his mother’s special recipe.
• clark puts his heart, soul, and heat vision in that soup.
• when you finally get the appetite, clark makes sure that you get your fill.
• don’t bother trying to skip on that water, he will be on you about hydrating yourself.
• and taking any medication that the doctor prescribed.
• hypes you up when you have a big pill to swallow.
• you love that he doesn’t get sick as humans do, so you can kiss and hug him without any fret of spreading your illness to him.
• alien or not, you can’t resist showing your affection.
• clark is so, so, so, good to you.
• you guys aren’t married, but he takes in sickness and in health to a whole new level.
• he’ll sanitize the apartment for you.
• he we will give you the whole queen treatment.
• bubble baths, back massages, foot rubs, you name it!
• you tell him to relax and lay down with you.
• you put on shows like judge judy or general hospital.
• he reads to you or tells you stories about his life in smallville.
• not to be a creep, but it’s peaceful for him to watch you sleep.
• you deserve some good sleep for enduring this illness all day.
• clark holds you close and fixes your scarf/bonnet if it shifts.
• if you’re still feeling feverish, he has an ice pack ready to gently lay on your head.
• whether he sleeps or not, he wouldn’t dare to leave your side for a second.
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runningthroughthegarden · 8 months ago
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finally kissing you
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the relationship you had with art was complicated to say that least. you had always tried your best to keep your feelings for him a secret. you didnt want to be just another girl pining over him. you were his best friend after all, your job was to support him, not fall in love with him. but that didnt matter anymore, cause you had fallen in love with him. and now you were burdened with the task of having to pretend like he was just your best friend.
-
it was a usual thursday night, after training you would head over to art’s place to study or watch a movie. tonight you decided the homework could wait and put on your favorite movie.
his arms clung around your waist as his head lay softly on your chest. you raked your fingers through his curls with a soft smile on your face. it was times like this you truly thought your relationship could be something more. that soon came crashing down.
“thank you y/n” he whispered so lightly you almost missed it.
“for what?” you softly giggled.
“just everything, i cant imagine what id do without you. dont tell patrick but i think youre my favorite best friend” he replied, quickly gazing up at you with a soft smile before snuggling back into you.
best friend. you knew thats all that this was, but the subtle reminder hit harder than youd like.
“yeah of course” you let out a small laugh to cover the break in your voice, tears threatening to spill.
you could tell by his change in breathing he had fallen asleep. before you knew it hot tears were spilling down your cheeks. this was so stupid. you knew you were just his best friend. but here you were crying as his arms clung around you and his breath tickled your neck.
you couldn’t take it anymore. you slowly slipped out of his grip to grab your things. taking one last look at his peaceful state, you left.
-
waking up on friday morning was honestly a shit show. you felt pathetic and just wanted to forget about all of it. so you decided it was time to move on.
it was no secret you had guys who would do anything to go out with you. you never paid them any attention cause you had art. but it was time to get over him so you decided to text a guy from one of your classes and asked if he wanted to hang out. he of course said yes so now you were in your dorm putting on your best dress to hopefully forget about art.
you truly felt so good about yourself and were excited to hang out with someone that wasnt patrick or art.
the date had gone shockingly well. the two of you had a lot in common and were laughing practically the entire time. still, a part of you ached. you felt yourself thinking back to art but tried to snap out of it as soon as you could.
he had offered to walk you back to your dorm which you kindly accepted. walking through the courtyard as the moon shined down you couldn’t help but wish it was art you were walking with. but you weren’t, you had to stop thinking like this.
“thank you for tonight, i had a lot of fun” you stop, looking up at him.
“yeah of course, im just glad i got the opportunity to take such a gorgeous girl out” he replys with a smile.
a blush creeps up on your face as he slowly starts to lean in. cupping your face with his hand, noses slightly touching.
“hey!” a voice you recognize all too well is shouting from behind you. oh my god.
stepping back from the boy you look to see art standing there. a flood of embarrassment washes over you.
“do you have a problem?” the guy asks putting his hand around your waist to pull you in.
“yeah i do get your hands off my girl!” art comes storming up pulling you away from him.
“you two are dating?” the guy steps back, clearly confused.
“no!”
“yes!”
you and art shout at the same time. looking at him with the most confused look on your face.
“it looks like you two have some things to sort out. i’ll see you in class y/n” he states with a sad smile and walks away.
“what the fuck is your problem?!?” you yell, turning back to face art.
“what is my problem? you’re the one who ditched me to go make out with some random guy!” he yelled back.
“why are you so mad?!”
“im not mad! i just think theres better people you could be kissing” he confesses.
“oh and who would that be?” you ask, angrily getting closer to him.
“me” he whispers.
“what?” every thought you had was now thrown out the window.
“i want you to kiss me” he confesses, stepping closer to you.
“but im just your…best friend” you whisper, feeling yourself get nervous under his gaze.
“y/n i think youre the love of my life”
his hands come up to cup your face.
“so can i please kiss you” he asks, desperation written all over his face.
without saying a word you smash your lips onto his.
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carmenized-onions · 8 months ago
Text
Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix
synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.
tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.
portion; 3.1k+
possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)
I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.
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The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.
You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?
Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.
“…Syd?”
She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”
There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.
“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.
“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”
“Syd.”
“Is your dad still a handy-man?”
Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.
You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.
“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”
You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”
You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”
You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.
CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.
There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.
Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.
“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”
 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.
“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”
“Oh nice!”
“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”
“In the way I can fix?”
“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”
“What’s the damage?”
“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”
You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”
“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”
“What was broke about it in the first place?”
“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck.”
“Do you have the outside handle, still?”
“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”
“Clean?”
“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"
“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.
“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”
“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.
“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.
“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”
“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”
Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.
“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”
“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”
And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.
Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.
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You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.
Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.
“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.
“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”
You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”
“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.
You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”
“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”
You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”
The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.
Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.
Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.
“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”
You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”
“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”
Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”
You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.
“Not gonna hit you, promise.”
“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”
You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”
“…Tony?”
“...Who the fuck is Tony?”
The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”
And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”
“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”
“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”
“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.
“Well, wait—”
You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.
“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”
“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”
And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.
“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.
You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”
“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.
The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.
It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”
Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.
He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.
“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.
Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.
You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.
He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.
But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.
And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.
And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.
Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.
Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”
“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.
You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”
Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.
Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.
It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.
“You’re not Tony.”
“Terry.”
“You’re Terry?”
“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”
“Terry’s the fridge guy.”
“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”
“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”
“Syd.”
“Should’ve called you earlier.”
“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”
“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.
“You know Mikey too?”
Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.
“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”
“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”
“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.
You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.
“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”
“Still not Tony.”
“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—
“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.
But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.
And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.
Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.
Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.
Mikey’s words. Of course.
Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   
“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.
Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”
Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”
“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”
She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”
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Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?
I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!
And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.
Next Part
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mossygirl333 · 19 days ago
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Could I request Simon to be relaxing with his female s/o please?
AN: ofc you can!!! We love gentle relaxed Simon <3 (it's kinda short but hopefully it's what you wanted!)
Simon Riley x F!chubby!reader
Tw/Cw: some minor mentions of war and depression, mentions of parenting, slight reference to sex but nothing graphic <3
Simon has always been a stressed man. A pressured man. His childhood. His job. It was one thing after the other, shitty situations with barely any good to catch his breath.
A sinking black pit of oil that was always on the cusp of drowning him. Swallowing up his cries for help, it wasn't like anyone was there to help him.
Until...you?
He never thought he deserved someone like you. Oh perfect and delicate you. The complete opposite of everything he's known in his 34 years old life.
If he had to describe you with one word, it'd be soft. Soft. It's the word to encompass all of you, every single part of you. To your thick hips and squeezable fat, round eyes and plump lips. Dulcet voice and steady hands.
And oh how he begged to go home.
-
His weary feet finally crossed the threshold of your shared home. The smell of food filled his nose, thick and warm, saliva filling his mouth.
"Baby?" You squeak, rushing out of the kitchen and lighting up like a light bulb. Your hands squeezed into fists, fighting the urge to touch him. You knew how difficult it was to become Simon after being Ghost for so long. "Si? Baby?"
His board shoulders drop, stepping heavily through the hallway. He was trailing dirt into the carpet but he could vacuum it up later, he just needed his sweetheart.
You tug him down to your level, burying your face into his neck as his shaky hands come up to grasp at your thick waist. Melting into you, surrounded by your warmth.
"It's me...It's Simon. Your Simon." He could feel your sigh of relief, kissing his temple. Your lip gloss sticky against his skin. "Dinner smells good."
"I made some Yorkshire pudding-" He cuts you off with a long slow kiss, breathing heavily against you. Eyes heavy and closed, palms kneading into you.
"such a good cook." he mumbles against your lips. "Soaps been dying to try your food, I swear it gets on my nerves sometimes." He deepens it, cradling your plump rosy cheeks in his hands, feeling you smile.
"M'glad...You should probably take a shower. Change."
He grumbles when you pull away. A slight smirk tugging at his lips when you peck a kiss against his nose. "Shower with me?"
"Pervert."
"That I am."
-
He sighs, leading back into your hands. Working out the muscles in his back. "Feels s'good."
"God You're tight back here." You look up at his smirk and groan. "Shut your mouth Riley. Don't even say it."
"Wasn't gonna say anything." He murmurs, snickering under his breath. "Just a lot of things are tight when it comes to both our bodies."
You huff, smacking the back of his head. Earning a hardy belly laugh, a full toothy smile slathered on his face. Eyes shining and mischievous, he looks younger when he's laughing. More at peace. Less of that brooding vicious soldier that has more blood on his hands than the average man.
But he would never show you that. Never. You didn't deserve to know that side of him. He turns to you, feeling your fingers scrub into his blonde messy hair. Sudsing up his scalp. "I cant stand you." Your voice is playful, feeling his hands cup your ass.
"Then sit." He smiles again, a groan leaving your mouth as you press it against his again.
"Save the dad jokes for when you're a dad please." You murmur, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.
"You'd be a good mama." He mumbles, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead.
"I know, I'm just so amazing."
"You are."
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