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bartxnhood · 6 months ago

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my worst fear | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: Sooooo, this is my req. You were tyler's past, thought that tyler already forgot about you when he talked to kate and all. However, he stillcare for you when the last tornado struck and he protects you and your little sister form the storm in the theater.

warnings: tornadoes, severe damage to buildings, reader and sister getting injured.

w/c: 1.6k

requests open

not proofread

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you’ve heard about the infamous ‘tornado wrangler’. your ex, tyler owens. the two of you ended things years ago, you were still living in arkansas at the time.

it was a mutual ending, you couldn’t keep up with his adrenaline-fueled dreams, chasing these nightmarish storms.

you moved states after something happened in the family and took your sister. now you were in oklahoma, where tyler was working. unusual weather patterns causing different storm-chasing crews were roam the state and happen to be in your county.

you did everything you could to keep your distance from tyler. you wanted to avoid him at all costs because you knew if you saw him, you’d realize you didn’t quite stop loving him.

“y/n!” your little sister pulls you out of your daze as she points to a stuffed cat and pulls your arm.

“is this one you want?”

she nods her bright smile could light up the whole planet. you ready for the calico-colored cat, “we’ll take this one”.

the vendor nods as you pay them, and hands you back the change. “have a good one.” they smile.

you hand the cat to your little sister as she hugs it closer to her chest, rambling nonsense. “amelia. hand.” you demand, snapping your fingers to grab her attention.

her small hand finds yours and the two of you continue looking through the vendors set up on the block.

it was a perfect day for a festival, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. you thought after a week-long run of bad storms and tornadoes was over.

so, it came as a surprise when the tornado sirens began to sound. you stop on your tracks, watching the people around you. “sissy, what’s happening?” amelia asks. you look down at her and smile, “i’m not sure, amy. stay close.” the little girl nods, holding your hand tighter.

you study the people walking around town. some of them taking off in their vehicles, others continuing their activities as if it was just another warning.

dark clouds swirled through the skies, growing darker and more ominous as the seconds passed. the winds picked up in speed and force, becoming more powerful as the storm continued to grow. thunder roared and lightning flashed, lighting up the sky in bursts of bright light.

clouds swirled in what soon became a funnel. “oh god..” you breathe, tugging at your sister. “we gotta go!” you holler.

tyler owens caught a glimpse of something familiar in the chaos caused by the storm. squinting, he noticed you and your younger sister struggling through the debris-filled streets. “y/n?!”

the sight of you struggling amid the disaster immediately sent a pang of concern through him. ignoring the past, he knew he had to help you. rushing towards you, “y/n! you need to get inside!” tyler yells over the booming crack of thunder.

“i can’t find her!” you yell back. “who?!”

“amelia! my sister. she was here and then she was just gone!” you feel your chest constricting. your heart was pounding so hard it was getting harder to breathe. you whip your head around searching for the little girl in a pink summer dress.

“you need to go inside!” tyler tries reaching for your arm to guide you to the movie theater where everyone else is. “i can’t!” you step back, “i need to find her! i can’t leave her out here.”

tyler grabs you by your shoulders, making you look at him. “y/n, go inside and get to somewhere safe. you won’t be any help out here looking for her if you get hurt. i’ll find her, go!”

he gives you a little push and you begin towards the movie theater before the storm could sweep you away. you look back, and tyler nods, assuring you that he’d find your sister.

tyler sped through the battered town, his eyes scanning the surroundings for the little girl while telling other survivors to get inside.

his boots stomp against the pavement, dodging debris and other obstacles. until, he spotted a young girl, no older than ten, struggling to make her way through the rubble-strewn streets.

her wide eyes were filled with terror as she stumbled down to her knees, calling out for her sister, you.

he hurried over to her, a mix of concern and determination on his face.

"c'mon! we have to get you somewhere safe," he called over the howling wind, extending a hand to help her up.

as he led her towards the nearby movie theater, thoughts of his past with you filled his mind, but he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing purely on getting her to safety.

inside the theater, you were scanning the room frantically. everyone in the room yelling, asking if they’d seen someone they lost. people yelling at each other to get down and take cover.

the theater shook as a loud growl could be heard outside. you look up towards the ceiling, watching it crumble.

“you need to get down!” a lady reaches for your arm and tries to push you in between the seats.

there’s a moment when it goes silent for you, everything is moving in slow motion as you look towards the exits and hear the familiar wailing of a little girl.

“oh thank god.” you cry, running towards tyler holding the little girl, and scoop her into your arms. the two of you a sobbing mess, you squeeze her tightly and look up at tyler. “thank you, thank you so much.”

he nodded, pressing his lips in a tight smile. “ty!” someone yells, running towards him. “we gotta get these people to the back, this building isn’t built for a storm like this.”

tyler looks at the surroundings and agrees with javier. he begins ushering people towards the back, “y/n, get back and stay low!” he yells her the roaring tornado.

you take amelia and hunker down between the rows of theater chairs, holding each other tightly. “close your eyes!” you hold your hand over her eyes, shielding her from any debris. you hold her close to your chest and grip onto the bottom of the chairs.

once tyler got most people to the back of the theater, tyler approached you and your little sister huddled together in the theater, the building creaking and groaning as the tornado's intensity increased.

suddenly, the wind howled louder, a vortex of air tearing through the room, threatening to rip you all apart.

in a desperate move, tyler lunged towards you, wrapping his arms fiercely around you, anchoring you to him as the winds tried to tear the two of you apart. you clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as they fought against the storm's wrath.

your knuckles grip onto your sister's torso, keeping her pinned to your body.

tyler stood anxiously next to the ambulance, watching as the two sisters were being examined by the paramedics inside. he couldn't shake off the sense of protectiveness he felt towards you, even after all these years.

“sit still, hun.” you coo, rubbing her shoulders as the paramedics take her vitals.

as you glanced out of the back of the ambulance, your eyes locked with his for a brief moment. tyler's heart skipped a beat, and he realized that his old feelings for you had never truly faded away, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

“can you watch her for a second?” you as the woman, tending to amelia.

“where you goin?” amelia asks, reaching for your arm. “i gotta go talk to a friend, amy. i’ll be right back.” you press a kiss into her hair and walk over to the man.

“she’s grown up,” tyler says as you stand next to him.

“yup.” you reply, letting a comfortable silence fill the air.

“how old is she?” he asks.

“seven. she just had a birthday last week”

“wow.” tyler rests his hands on his hips, recalling how little she was when the two of you were dating.

“thank you. sincerely. i don’t know what i would’ve done if..” you trail off, covering your eyes unable to finish the sentence.

“shh.” he pulls you into his side, soothing your worries. “don’t think like that. just glad i was here when i was.”

you wrap an arm around his torso, leaning into his side.

despite the years that had passed since the breakup, the sight of tyler had stirred up a mixture of emotions. seeing him again brought back memories – good and bad – that were tinged with a touch of nostalgia.

what surprised you most, however, was the realization that those old feelings for him hadn't faded as much as you believed.

“thank you, tyler. genuinely” you repeat, wiping your eyes. “of course.” he smiles, looking down at you.

“go get checked. that cut looks bad” he suggests, examining the cut on your forehead. “i will.” you smile, watching as your sister hops down from the ambulance and runs towards you.

you bend down and scoop her into your arms, resting her on your hip. “did you tell mister owens ‘thank you’?” you ask amelia, who tries to hide behind your hair.

“thank you, mister owens” she says, bashfully.

“anytime, darlin.” he gently pats the girls arm. “i’ll catch yall later” he says, taking a few steps back but you stop him.

“tyler, do you want to come over for dinner?” you ask.

tyler stops in his tracks, turning back to face you. a huge grin forming on his face. “i’d love that”

#bartxnhood writes #bartxnhood asks #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens fluff #tyler owens angst #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens smut #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #javier twisters #kate carter

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cressidagrey · 7 months ago

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Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 3

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings:

Stabbing, Azriel unalives somebody that really had it coming, Death by being put on fire

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

*If you keep glaring at Keir like that we are never getting anywhere,* Rhys said into his mind, some amusement bleeding into his voice.

*I think he’s trying to waste your time on purpose,* Azriel responded with a scowl.

The shadows hadn’t picked up anything out of the usual…but that didn’t mean anything…even Keir could manage to hide something if he really wanted to…and he did want to, Azriel thought.

He wasn’t sure yet what…but there was something. There must be something.

This meeting was utterly useless, was slowly turning into needless sniping at each other and Azriel didn’t like it…it felt like Keir was just trying to keep them in place for longer.

The question was just for what?

It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like a cat…the feeling that something…something was…not quite right, that he couldn't put his finger on…

He hated that feeling. Azriel much preferred it, when he got all the facts… when he could make plans and plans for his plans…

But he couldn’t…and he was still stuck with being in the Hewn City and not in Velaris.

*Cassian is thinking the same,* Rhys responded with a sigh. *We’ll give it another hour. Don’t worry, we'll be back in Velaris soon enough,* he teased Azriel lightly. Rhys must have caught one of his thoughts. *Give Feyre some time and then you can go get your girl.*

An easy promise given.

*Not my girl,* Azriel gave back immediately. *Not yet. Not…* Not until she wanted to be. Not until she knew the truth and…

*She won’t turn you down, Az,* Rhys said quietly, sussing out what was really bothering him immediately.

But what if she did? Eira had every reason in the book to turn him down. Starting with his ill-thought-out pursuit of her actual twin sister to the simple fact of who he was…

She had every reason to tell him to fuck off to the continent because she never wanted to see him again. Granted, he highly doubted she would do that…he had never heard as much as a curse word out of her mouth.

She had been raised as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and clearly, that’s how she carried herself, even after everything had happened.

At least she had clung to that bit of her human life.

*She has every reason to,* Azriel disagreed quietly. Every reason to turn him down. Regardless of what he wished for…every reason not to be interested.

What if she wanted to cling to even more of her human life? If the wings that he sprouted from his back were a step too far for her…if the scars that marred his hands were…

Or what if she simply didn’t want him? That would be a valid choice too and he would accept that.

Of course, he would.

He never wanted to force her into anything that she didn’t want.

So what if she hated him?

*She won't and she doesn't,* Rhys disagreed sharply. *Azriel, Mor was right,” his brother told him pointedly. “Eira has been having a crush on you for years. She’ll probably be ecstatic and immediately start planning your wedding…Maybe Elain can lend her all her wedding binders,” Rhys teased him.

He bit back a smile at that. Maybe…maybe… He wished for that. He wished that would be…

Whatever she wanted. She wanted a big wedding? He would suffer through that, just for the chance of seeing her happy. Just for her smiling at him…not as painfully polite as she had been last evening but bright and happy and unbridled…He wanted to see that.

He wanted to see all of that.

But he pushed that thought away.

*I am intrigued and terrified by what is actually in these binders,* Azriel admitted drily. *Even you didn’t have that many when you were planning Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony.*

*Helion is overcompensating,* Rhys quipped, though they both knew that it probably was the truth.

After everything had gone down in Autumn, ending with a dead Beron, High Lord Eris and Lucien Vanserra officially becoming Lucien Spell-Cleaver…well.

*I owe you an apology,* Rhys said at that moment, and Azriel stared at his brother, who was listening to Keir with a bored expression on his face. *I did only want…the best for you that solstice but how I went around it…that wasn’t particularly nice to you.*

*Actually I owe you my gratitude,* Azriel said drily. *I didn’t want to hear it then…but I was…I wasn’t in love with Elain. I was…infatuated,* he admitted. *I was jealous of you and Cassian and that…that clouded my judgement. It could have ended very badly if you didn’t intervene.*

Very badly. A Blood Duel would have been their smallest problem then.

*It could have,* Rhys agreed. *That’s why I interfered in the first place…But I still hurt you in that moment, and I wish I hadn’t.*

*If I keep behaving like an idiot you have my full permission to call me out on it,* Azriel gave back with a sigh.

*Then stop thinking like you don’t deserve her,* Rhys said with a mental eye roll.

*Sure, I’ll stop once you stop thinking the same about Feyre,* he shot back. Rhys would have retorted, but he was beaten to it.

The shadows came suddenly, in a frenzy whispering in his ear, voices hurried and panicking: Master, Master you need to come NOW!

*What’s wrong?* Rhys demanded, just as that dormant bond in his chest was flooded with pure, undiluted terror.

The Princeling and our Mate!

*Eira and Nyx,* he choked out. The shadows already grasped him, before Rhys’ mental order could fully reach him.

*GO!*

They dragged him out of Hewn City, into Velaris.

The ground he hit was scorched.

That was the first thing he realised.

Magic crackled in the air, thick and furious, untrained and uncontrolled…that was the second.

Nyx had one specific playground he loved…one where Azriel knew members of their family often brought him to…with swings that he adored…

It was a place of happiness…of children laughing…of Velaris at its best…

Now…now it was a scorched wasteland.

The swings? Gone. The smell of burning human flesh in the air, making his stomach twist, eyes tracking over the carnage.

At least two dead…difficult to say because their bodies were burned…beyond recognition.

One more dead…mouth open in a silent scream… One…one male held by his shadows, bearing him down onto the ground…and then, right in the middle of that carnage… in a heap on the ground…

The high-pitched crying of Nyx reached his ears, covered by the unmoving body of Eira.

Azriel had thought that panic had been burned out of him centuries ago. He was taught something better that morning. Because it was panic that flooded his veins. Panic and Terror and…a thousand other things.

*I need Mor! And Madja!* he snapped along the mental connection to Rhys, already hurling for both of them…sliding onto his knees as he so very carefully touched Eira’s body, feeling the delicate bones underneath his fingertips, a near unseen tremble, the smell of acrid blood clinging to her, layering over her scent.

She had always smelled like snowdrops to him. Snowdrops and almonds and a crackling hearth.

Now the blood…the blood…He turned her around, getting no reaction, finding Nyx safe and sound tucked underneath her, crying, his little face red and splotchy as he sobbed.

*AZRIEL!?* Rhys demanded.

*Nyx is fine. Not a scratch.*

All he managed…as he finally saw the scarlet red dripping down onto Nyx…smeared all over him…and then he saw the handle of that dagger protruding from Eira’s limp form.

Blood. Her blood.

“Ra! Ra! Ra!” Nyx gargled, just as he finally managed to slap a patch of his killing power around that knife, keeping it steady. He didn’t pull it out, knowing that that could kill her…even when the blood that oozed out around it was starkly black in places…and he could smell the scent of…something burning in the back of his throat.

Poison. That knife had been poisoned.

A curse left his mouth at that.

That wasn't good. That was everything but good.

*Eira?* Rhys demanded at that moment.

*Stabbed.*

The connection went silent, just as the booming sound of Morrigan winnowing went in beside him.

“Az?”

“She needs Madja. Now,” he bit out. “Take them both.”

Safe. Safe.

He needed her safe. And then he needed…

He leaned down, picking up one limp hand and pressing a kiss against it, her skin clammy and grey…even when he could feel her pulse thrumming underneath the thin skin on the back of her wrist... He breathed in snowdrops and almonds and sweetness...and then let go, because if he didn't...he never would. He would lie right down next to her, waiting for his demise.

He grasped Truthteller without even thinking about it, as he stalked across the ground towards the one sole survivor. The shadows jerked him up, and Azriel grabbed hold of his throat.

“What. Did. You. Do?!” he growled. What had they done to Eira? To his mate?

“I…we…just the Prince…Grab the Prince. No matter the cost,” the male garbled out, the acrid smell of urine hitting his nostrils and only now Azriel took in the black uniform.

Darkbringer.

Court of Nightmares. Keir.

Suddenly… it all made sense. It came together. The secret Keir had been keeping. It was so clear now.

“Who hired you?!” Azriel spat out, wanting a verbal answer before…before...

“The Steward!”

And that’s all he needed to hear, before he drove Truthteller into him, into the exact same place where they had stabbed Eira…not immediately killing him, but seeing his eyes widen, seeing the realisation set in….the pained scream escaping him.

“She’s mine,” Azriel whispered. “Mine. And you hurt her. You hunted her.” Like a game. Like an animal.

She was his. His mate.

And Azriel hadn’t been there to protect her. He hadn’t been there for any of this…

“Lightning,” the male choked, blood bubbling on his lips. *She…killed…lightning.”

He didn't care what the male told him. It didn't matter. None of this mattered.

The only thing that mattered was her.

He watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction that he at least had gotten to do this. At least…

*It was Keir,* Rhys said into his mind, his voice deathly quiet. *He…He ordered…*

*He wanted Nyx,* Azriel agreed, pulling Truthteller out of the body, letting the male fall to the ground, wiping the blade on his trousers.

*How many did you kill?* Rhys asked. No judgment. He could have slaughtered three dozen and Rhys wouldn’t have cared at that moment.

*One.*

He could feel Rhys’ surprise. Then: *He said he sent 4.*

*Two were burned beyond recognition,* Azriel explained. *Another is dead, but still recognisable. I do not know how he died. The whole ground is charred. Scorched.*

A second later…Rhys and Cassian appeared, winnowing in from Hewn City. He imagined that Feyre had gone straight to their son. Cassian took one look around at the ground, the carnage…the…

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Mor took Nyx and Eira?” he asked and Azriel forced a nod, feeling for that golden thread bound around his rib…wished he would get something, anything from her…

“She shielded him with her body,” he said nearly tonelessly. “He was smeared in her blood because she shielded him.”

Even stabbed, even feeling like she was going to die…Eira had done everything to shield her nephew. Had used her own body to keep him safe. Had protected him with her life.

Azriel had never doubted that she loved him…but it still…she must not have even hesitated. Just done it.

She was a slip of a girl, with no combat training…and she had faced four of the Court of Nightmare's most elite soldiers and laid down her life if that meant that Nyx would be safe.

He had seen grown Illyrian Warriors that would have tucked tails and run in this situation.

Outnumbered…Outpowered. And still, she had stood her ground.

“What happened here?” Cassian asked as he checked the other recognisable body.

“They must have surprised her,” Rhys said, his voice shaking. “She thought they were safe. We thought they were safe…”

And they hadn’t been. They hadn’t been safe.

At all.

Death had been brought right to their doorstep in Velaris.

“How did he die?” Rhys demanded from Cassian.

“He was struck by lightning,” Cassian responded drily. “I have seen this before…on a cow though. It would also explain the scorched ground. If lightning hits the ground, it makes a pattern like that.”

What?

Lightning?

He looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful summer’s day. Not a trace of a storm…anywhere.

“Do you think it was Nyx?” Cassian asked quietly but Rhys shook his head.

“I have never seen anybody channel lightning,” Rhys answered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Never. I…” Neither had Azriel. “He’s too young to channel magic like that.”

But was he? In a situation like that? When he had just tried to protect Eira? and himself? Maybe even at 1-year-old Nyx had recognised what…what would happen if he didn’t protect himself. Maybe it had been pure instinct on his part…Maybe he had seen Eira fall and that had been…

Eira.

He reached for that bond again, feeling it tremble and he hung onto it with all his might, clenching his teeth.

He…

He had failed her, hadn’t he? It should have never come that far. It should have never…It should have never…

Azriel should have been the one taking that knife to the chest, not her.

“Clearly not,” Cassian disagreed with a snort. “He’s your son,” Cassian pointed out drily. “He’s Feyre’s son…who knows what he has inherited from her.”

Rhys stayed rooted in one spot, blinking once.

“Rhys?” Cassian asked immediately.

“Get Nesta,” he ordered Cassian. “We are needed at the River House.” And then after a second that felt like eternity…“It’s not…It’s not looking good.”

And with one sentence…everything crumbled.

#acotar fanfiction #my writing #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #lightning in a bottle #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x archeron!reader

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fishfooddude · 3 months ago

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Wet

Jake Seresin x Reader

[Part 2 to Panty Stealer from Kinktober 2024] (This got a lot longer than initially planned so it's gonna be a three-parter)

Top Gun Maverick MasterList

Directory

“Charlie wasn’t a complete pain in the ass, right? If he was, I will ground him,” you asked as you sat next to Jake at the bar. Coming to The Hard Deck after a long week of work with him had become a weekly tradition. There were other aviators around, but the undivided attention Jake gave you was never unappreciated. Jake continued to provide you with all the details on how Charlie was a little shit that deserved to go back to the dumpster you’d found him in as a kitten. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him, “Hey. That’s my son. I can threaten to put him back in the dumpster I found him in, but you absolutely can not.”

Jake rolled his eyes and quickly downed the last of his beer, “So, how was your vacation?”

You shrugged, “It was fine. Honestly, I was a little lonely without you.” your words were music to his ear. “My sisters never want to do shots with me or play pool or go hit on boys because they’re all married.”

Jake laughed and nodded awkwardly, “When have we ever hit on boys together?”

“You watch me hit on boys sometimes.” you challenged. Jake laughed again and conceded to your point.

“Want another round?” he asked, hoping you’d say yes. You shook your head and pulled $20 out of your bag. Jake shook his head and pulled his wallet from his pocket.

“I got it this time, beautiful,” Jake said, taking the money from your hand and putting it back in your purse. You groaned and reached for his wallet. Jake laughed, “You buy the six-pack for football this weekend, and we’ll call it even.”

“Jake, this was my thank you for cat-sitting. Com’on.” you insisted, still none the wiser about how Jake had helped himself to that pair of underwear from your hamper. He shook his head again, and you gave up on paying for the man’s beer. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

As you checked your makeup in the bathroom mirror, you saw a pair of girls walking in. The one on the left was a cute blonde, and the other was a redhead. You noticed the blonde on the verge of tears, and her friend tried to comfort her, “Girl, he’s not worth it.” the redhead cooed. The blonde shook her head and rushed into the empty stall, “Diana- come on, we don’t cry over aviators!” the girl said outside the door. You weren’t trying to be nosey, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Carly! He’s never said no to me!” Diana sobbed from behind the stall’s door. “He basically called me ugly!”

You watched Carly roll her eyes from her reflection in the mirror as you pretended to fix your hair. You had no idea who they were referring to outside of him being an aviator who never says- it was Jake. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You grinned in Carly’s direction and awkwardly slipped out of the bathroom, hoping not to run into either of them again. As you walked out to the bar you saw Jack sitting at the bar, scrolling on his phone. Why would he turn down a girl? Especially one that was very much his type… you lost yourself in thought as you joined him back at the bar. “Ready to go?” Jake asked with a smile plastered on his face. There was a look on Jake’s face; you couldn’t tell what it was from, but you were wary of it. You nodded, and the two of you headed out to your cars.

Jake walked you to your car, which coincidentally was parked a few down from his truck. As you went to unlock your car door, you dropped your keys. You let out an annoyed huff before bending down to pick them up. You didn’t realize the back of your shirt slid up to reveal the top band of your underwear to Jake… the prettiest shade of blue he’d ever seen. He swallowed hard and awkwardly said bye before quickly returning to his truck. His sudden departure confused you, but you shrugged off the behavior as Jake was just being Jake; sometimes, he was a weird guy.

Jake sped home and ran upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as he’d parked his truck in the driveway, he somehow unlocked his front door. He yanked open his bedside table drawer and felt like a halo of light came from beneath his most prized possession at the moment, that tiny dark red thong with the little bow on the front he’d been using as a masturbatory aid since he’d taken them from your bedroom the other week. Jake brought them to his nose and inhaled. The scent had subdued since his initial procurement, but he still picked up on undertones of what your pussy must have smelled like.

Jake laid back in bed and yanked his jeans down before reaching for the bottle of water-based lube on his bedside table. He popped the top of the bottle and was ready to squirt some out, but before he could, he paused. This was creepy, right? Was this was crossing a boundary? He’d had little remorse over the topic the nights prior, but seeing a minuscule sliver of your panties and then running home to masturbate with the pair of panties he’d stolen from your laundry hamper- this was weird? Was this him doing too much? He groaned and closed his lube before tossing it across the room. You were one of his best friends, one of his coworkers, one of the people he felt he could rely on. He’d turned down the blonde girl he’d taken home several times tonight. He said he ‘wasn’t interested’ and had been actively planning to come home to watch a video on his phone while using your panties, but now there was a pit in his stomach he couldn’t get over.

The next day at work, Jake saw you standing by the radio tower, talking with one of the other girls you worked with. That similar feeling in his stomach returned when you waved to him. He met your wave with a tight grin before pushing his aviators up the bridge of his nose and quickly walking the other way. “Hangman!?” you called after him as he went to the hangar. You shot your coworkers a confused look, “That was weird, right?” you asked her. She nodded before excusing herself to the tower. As much as you wanted to confront him but, you were due in the tower.

There was tension in the air at lunchtime. Since Jake had walked away from you this morning, you’d decided not to sit with him and Javy at lunch. Jake tried his hardest not to make eye contact as you huffed past your usual lunch table. Javy looked over his shoulder to watch you go sit with a group of women on the other side of the lunchroom. “What did you do to that girl?” Javy questioned, shooting Jake a dirty look.

Jake sighed, “I did something stupid, and I’m embarrassed.”

“You’re embarrassed?” Javy asked in astonishment. Jake wasn’t the kind of guy to be embarrassed, so he must have done something horrible. “What did you do to that girl?”

“I’m not confessing to shit, Coyote.” Jake challenged, “I just need to compose myself before I hang out with Y/N again.”

Javy’s brow furrowed as he contemplated what Jake could have done to you, “Did you have a sex dream about her? No shame in that. Y/N’s pretty hot.” Jake rolled his eyes at the question. While he has had numerous sex dreams about you since stealing your panties, he’d never confess to it. “Then what’s goin’ on?” Javy laughed.

“I’m keeping it to myself,” Jake said, putting his hands up defensively.

You huffed as you walked up to Jake’s front door, frustrated by his behavior the past few days at work. He’d been ignoring you, and today was the final straw. Another air traffic controller in the communication tower had been trying to get into your pants for months. You said ‘no’ every time he’d try to ask you out, but he just wasn’t taking ‘no’ as an answer. Thankfully, Jake would always step in and tell him to fuck off, but since he was actively avoiding you- you had to endure a 20-minute story about how this guy’s adult kickball team was going to some competition and how he wanted you to come with him.

You pounded on Jake’s door, “Jake, open the door! I know you’re home!” you yelled. Your yelling brought Jake snapped him back to reality. He’d been sitting on his couch after work that night, ‘watching’ baseball alone and running the band of your panties through his fingers. He stuffed the panties in his back pocket before opening the door.

“Hey…” he awkwardly greeted you when he saw you standing there with your hands on your hips. His eyes were drawn to the form-fitting running shorts you were wearing with an old, worn-in Navy shirt.

“Why are you being weird?” you said, pushing into his house. Jake sighed and closed the door before facing you again. He swallowed softly and waited for you to start berating him. “Did I do something?” he saw your brow furrow together as you asked; Jake shook his head, making you groan. “Talk to me, Jake! We don’t not talk to each other. You’re my best friend.”

“Listen, Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong- this is a me thing.”

“Jake. I have to go to an adult kickball game because you weren’t there to tell Billy to fuck off. This isn’t just some you thing. What happened?” you demanded

Jake stared at the floor before reaching for his back pocket. He was really going to ruin your friendship. “Just don’t hate me…” he said softly before pulling the balled-up pair of panties from his pocket. He put his hand out and slowly opened his fist to reveal the panties he’d taken from your room. You stared at the material in his hand and were initially confused. When you realized what he was holding, you looked up at him quizzically.

“Are those- why do you… What the fuck, Jake?” you asked, taking your panties from him. “Why are they… wet?” you feared the answer you’d receive, “NO! Don’t answer that question…”

“Y/N- I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have taken them-”

You cut Jake off by touching his shoulder, “Please stop talking. Jake… this is a lot to take in. Um.. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

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sinnersweets · 11 months ago

Text

DogDay x Reader part 2

A/N: Highly requested so here you guys go! Enjoy!

<----part 1 part 3---->

DogDay led me outside of the Playhouse and back outside into Playcare. A few feet in front of us was a chicken. A tall yellow chicken. Ah, that must have been KickinChicken. “Hiya KC!” DogDay was still holding my hand but with his other he waved extremely fast to KickinChicken. “Sup DD! Hey, finally got yourself a helper now huh? ‘Bout time dude.” KickinChicken then handed off the kids too, I’m assuming his helper. His helper also matched him as well. Guess that was the uniform for us working with these...tall animal mascots.

Kickinchicken walked up to me and DogDay. “Names Kickinchicken, the cool member of the Smiling Critters.” DogDay laughed when he said that. “Go on Angel, introduce yourself.” I wasn’t used to seeing animals so tall, it scared me a little. I held out my free hand to KickenChicken and summoned some courage to talk.

“Hello, I’m Y/N or Angel, doesn’t really matter what you call me. Nice to meet you.” KickenChicken then slapped my hand with his and started to make a handshake with me. I mirrored his movements to understand this new handshake I was given. “Haha, she’s pretty cool DD, you got yourself a rad helper.” He then looked at me up and down. “Not bad looking either.” KickenChicken smiled at me. I was going to comment on that, but DogDay beat me too it. “Look at the time! You better hurry along to your group now KC, don’t want our little friends upset now do we?” “Right, well nice meeting ya Y/N, we’ll chat later.” he spoke as he walked back to his group and helper. DogDay squeezed my hand a bit before leading us to the center of Playcare. “On with the tour!”

---------------

DogDay first showed me the statue in the center. It was all the Smiling Critters. There were eight of them in total: DogDay the leader, Bobby Bearhug the loving one, KickenChicken was the cool one, Hoppy Hopscotch the energetic one, CraftyCorn was the artist in the group, Bubba Bubbaphant the smart one, PickyPiggy the foodie, and lastly there was CatNap, DogDays bestest friend. He supposably makes sure that everyone else gets a good night's rest every day to ensure that they are ready for the next day.

Next, we went into the Toy Store. DogDay was tall, so he had to walk on all fours. “This is where the children can come and buy some sweet toys of yours truly, and the others!” I smiled and looked around. Sure enough there were plushies of DogDay and the rest of the group. There were also some other toys like a blue limp doll, a dinosaur that matched the lamps outside, what looked like a cat and a bee mixed, and other toys. I picked up a smaller version of DogDay and looked at it. “You said the kids buy these?” “Uh-huh! We give them play money to use around here, that way when they get adopted, they’ll know about the real world and how to manage their expenses.” That was smart of them. I set the plushie back down and followed DogDay outside.

We then looked at the consoler's office and school. DogDay told me that the consolers office was where the staff would put their belongings in and where parents would go to adopt a child. Only DogDay was allowed in the consoler's office, none of the other Smiling Critters could go in there. I’m not sure why but I didn’t question it. “The school is where the children spend most of their time. I’d take you inside so you could meet Miss Delight and her sisters, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt her teachings.” “That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get to meet them one day.”

---------------

It was now naptime for the children which meant that the Smiling Critters could step away and hang out all together and just relax. I was in the consolers office to check out my assigned office. Each helper had their own office to get away to when needed. Outside my door was a card that had ‘Welcome’ on the front. I picked it up and walked into my new office. I took a look around, nice office, however what stuck out to me was the big dog bed in the corner.

I was about to walk over to it until I heard a knock at the door. I set down the card and opened the door, but no one was there. Suddenly DogDays head popped out from the side. “Hiya Angel!” “Ah-” I fell back in shock. As I laid on the floor DogDay hovered over me with a worried expression, his sun pendant laid against my chest. “Angel?! Oh gosh I’m so sorry! Are you okay??!” I did a double-blink and then slowly sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting that at all.” DogDay then held out a paw towards me to help me to my feet. I took his paw into my hand and once my hand met his paw his tail started to wag. He pulled me up to my feet and got close to me. I wasn't used to being this close to anyone, let alone a giant dog so I started to blush. This caught DogDays attention. “Angel your face is really red, are you sick?” I was starting to feel bad, not physically but mentally. I didn’t want him to be worried about me. “I-I’m fine! Really DogDay. So, um what brings you by?” I wanted to change the subject as fast as possible. DogDay then smiled and leaned away from me. “I wanted to see if you liked the card we made!” I went to my desk, picked up the card and opened it. ‘Welcome newest helper, we hope that this job brings you happiness and joy as we do to our children here. We look forward to working with you, signed everyone.’ I did like the letter.

---------------

Me and DogDay started chatting for a while until out of nowhere, I yawned. “Oh my, sorry about that.” Guess I was starting to get a bit tired. “That’s okay Angel. There’s thirty minutes left of nap time; you should rest up!” A power nap did sound good. I nodded and told DogDay that he should go back to his friends, but he shook his head no and picked me up and walked over to the dog bed in the corner. Should’ve known it was his.

“I’d rather spend my free time with you Angel, plus as your boss you have no say.” He stuck his tongue out and booped my nose with his paw. My face got warm again. He then laid down on his bed and laid me in between his front paws. “You can rest with me Angel; I’ve been told that I’m a very fluffy pillow.” He was very soft and the smell of vanilla on him was almost like a drug to put you to sleep, and it was working. I yawned once more and closed my eyes. DogDays head rested near me. “Rest well my Angel.” was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #x reader #dogday x reader #part 2 #smiling critters

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demonic0angel · 2 days ago

Note

Just saw your phantom family in uniform art (looks as majestic as usual) can we have some wraith x nightwing?? Just them flirting and kicking ass together <33

(Hell yeah >:D Glad you enjoy it!)

Wraith hummed cheerfully as he sat on the edge of the roof overlooking the alley where Nightwing was pummeling some gang members. He seemed to be in a bad mood with how curt his one-liners were, but he was still ridiculously flamboyant as he flipped and somersaulted to beat people up.

Yes, it would be a good day today.

When he noticed Wraith, he paused before calling out in a snappy tone, “Are you going to sit there all night? Or come down and give me a hand?”

Wraith smirked. Their relationship used to be frosty, with Wraith uncharacteristically reaching out over and over to poke at Nightwing’s buttons, but now it seemed amicable. Sometimes, Nightwing stared at him with an unreadable look that Wraith didn’t know how to react to, but over all, he had fun when he was around him.

“Ohh? Well, what are you going to give me in exchange, little hero? My help isn’t cheap.”

That indecipherable look was back on Nightwing’s face before he said, “I’ll buy you dinner at the new restaurant on XXX street.”

“Hmm… deal.” Wraith did not ask for much. If anyone else asked for his help, he would’ve refused or probably extorted every single penny in their bank accounts before even considering the ask, but Nightwing was not just anybody and he was so pleasant to be around that even when he used to try to drive him away in the beginning, he had still stayed.

Wraith dropped down and blasted an opponent with a weak ray to slam them against the wall. Realizing that Nightwing had a helper, the gang members burst into a run and escaped.

Nightwing watched them as he caught his breath and Wraith turned to look at him. “So? Shall we follow them?”

“Yeah. You can sense them right? And lead us to them?”

Wraith nodded with a sharp smile and Nightwing grinned at him. It made him feel pleasant. In this world full of disgusting humans, only Nightwing and his sisters were people who he liked. (The rating on his brother/younger self was still pending.)

They waited for a few moments, tying up the knocked down criminals for the police to find before Nightwing looked at Wraith with an easy smile. “Ready to sniff ‘em out?”

“Hmph. This’ll be easy. You could’ve brought out a nose-blind cat and they’d still be able to find them in an instant,” Wraith said with a sigh, thinking of the smell of the criminals.

Nightwing laughed though, so all was well.

Wraith then went off to find the escapees. The scent of their souls were uninteresting, unappealing, and even disgusting in their blandness. Their general smell was just nasty. Wraith, however, disliked disappointing Nightwing and so he persisted and led them right to the criminal’s hideout.

“No killing,” Nightwing said absentmindedly, as he took out his escrima sticks. They crackled with energy, lighting up the blue that lined Nightwing’s suit.

Wraith huffed. “Fine. You’re boring.”

“Ohh? If I’m so boring, then let’s make a bet. If I defeat more people than you, then you’ll pay for dessert, alright?” Nightwing smirked. “And I get to order double.”

Wraith perked up with the incentive. “You can’t beat me,” he said, but Nightwing was rarely so playful with him. He seemed to be in a good mood now. “I’ll win.”

“We’ll see,” Nightwing said pleasantly, and then they both kicked down the doors, startling the gang members.

“Crap! It’s Nightwing and Wraith!”

Wraith frowned for a moment, wondering why they seemed to fit together too well, but Nightwing threw himself into the fray and Wraith was quick to follow with a feral grin.

Fighting side by side with Nightwing was an amazing experience. Wraith loved it. It felt better than being alone with only Fright Knight by his side, killing whoever he wanted and terrorizing the masses just because he could. With Nightwing, it was easier to remember how he used to be a hero.

Wraith’s eyes caught the bright blue that flashed out of the corner of his vision, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but think that his sisters would’ve been proud of him for finding such a kind, gentle, and powerful soul.

Yes, it would be another good night with Nightwing.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #dick grayson #dark danny #dan fenton #dan phantom #bad humor ship #dick x dan #pinklotushere #ty for the ask <3

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81folklore · 1 year ago

Text

as good as new - ALBON

pairings: alex albon x ex!girlfriend!reader (fc: quarterjade)

summary: alex soft launches his ex girlfriend after they find eachother again

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: ok so welcome to the start of the voulez-vous fic list! i hope this makes sense but incase it doesnt, alex and yn used to be dating before they split due to just growing apart, but they were meant to be😁

authors note 2: kinda rushed at the end so sorry about that! got a couple of requests to work on so ill try and get them done along with this fic list! and you cant still join the taglist!!

voulez-vous main masterlist

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, brookeabb and 122,268 others

happy new years!!🥂

view comments

user7 happy new year gorgeous!!

yourfriend2 SHINING SHIMMERING SPLENDIDDDD

brookeab SHE IS SO FINE AND SO CUTE AND PRETTY AND LOVELY

user82 JAW IS ON THE FLOOR??

user90 im so in love with you

user26 GET IN LINE

user38 so so so so stunning

twitter

alex_albon

liked by williamsracing, yourusername and 253,080 others

last dump of the year🇦🇪

view comments

williamsracing see you next year king🫡

user84 yn liking :’)

user9 THE FIFTH PIC?!

user47 is that..shirtless alex

user83 WHOS HOLDING THE BOX??

user97 technically its already 2024 but we’ll let it slide

user55 imagine its yn in the 5th pic..

user1 can we not? 1. its none of our business and 2. alex can move on and imagine being that girl and seeing people think its her bfs ex like..

yourusername

liked by pokimanelol, alex_albon and 92,389 others

me and my boy ⭐️

view comments

tinakitten CUTE AS HECK!!

yourfriend4 i miss him☹️

yourusername even though he hates you??

yourfriend4 he doesnt hate me, just not fond!!

user77 whos that in the second slide👀

user52 no tag either🤨

user13 moms weekend with the kids i see

user9 does alex get weekends? i thought the cats were yns?

user2 tbh we have no idea, i assumed he did but maybe not🤷‍♀️

user26 so so cute!! we need more pics of you and genji!!

alex_albon added to their story

caption:☀️🐈

replies

user66 GENJI AND MABEL!!

user73 we missed them :’)

user8 oh how i love cat dad alex

twitter

alex_albon • mallorca

liked by jensonbutton, yourusername and 293,286 others

me gusta la playa

view comments

user4 THE CENSORSHIP??

user89 three shirtless pics?? someone call george

georgerussell63 someones coming for my brand🤣

user9 the softlaunch..oh im losing my mind

user33 yn liking alexs softlaunch post..shes checking up on the ex😭

user12 ran into george and lando in the last pic

user1 alex is so hot😮‍💨

user912 alex is FEEDING us at the moment

yourusername • mallorca

liked by alex_albon, carmenmundt and 182,196 others

sorry cant talk rn im too busy being hot

view comments

carmenmundt absolute beauty💞🫶

user94 I CAN TREAT YOU SO WELL

user63 so so gorgeous

user9 alex and yn both being in mallorca and alex softlaunching..

user111 you are a dream

twitter

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 210,692 others

darling, we were always meant to stay together💫

i was searching for photos to post and decided on 6 that really showed my life these past months

1. a photo on the first day i went out after we split, i felt lost and alone and decided to start documenting my journey alone

2. this is a photo i took when i went home and felt peace for the first time since our break

3. a selfie we took in the taxi after our ‘first date’. we met up for the first time since, and spoke about our feelings and decided to start taking things slow

4. a day out with you and my sister, i felt so happy knowing i had the two most important people with me again

5. our first holiday, this will always mean alot to me. we both said i love you for the first time, we spent all day, every day together just loving and holding each other

6. we were leaving and instead of being sad we knew that this part of our life wasnt over but instead we were moving on to bigger and better things

i love you so much and im so thankful that i have someone has caring and loving as you

tagged alex_albon

view comments

alex_albon just like it used to be and even better🌟

alex_albon i love you so so much

alex_albon i promise to love you forever and ever

yourusername my loveliest boy

user71 THEYRE BACK

yourusername AND BETTER THAN EVER BABY

user111 MY FAVORITES

user9 i didnt read the caption and experienced genuine shock when i saw alex

user8 so proper just say you were shocked😭

user88 i need everything to apologize to mads RIGHT NOW

user61 all the hate on her WHEN SHE WAS RIGHT

taglist: @smartstupyd

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #alex albon #alex albon x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 insta au #★ voulez vous

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frost-queen · 5 months ago

Text

My mortal flaw // part 6 (Reader x Zuko)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget,

@ficsmoothie, @reallysparklychaos, @deafeningartisancandy, @multifandom-lover01, @smilefortae, @bravelittlebastard, @mysticwitchcraftco, @roseazura, @katie-tibo, @savannah0111, @defnotriri, @darkened-writer, @avrilh, @anea08, @mymoonempress, @tcey0, @romantic-reader , @lionheart178 , @pink-www , @aloe-7 , @tomblythslut, @camilo-uwu , @lunalixya , @karmaswitch , @vewnyy , @h33seungs-babe , @junieshohoho , @buggs-1 , @elakari

@astrowerld, @tejasvkris, @thewhimsicalmoonchild, @xenop0p, @hagridshaircare, @nxcxllxsevens , @stormy-stardust , @babyred7 , @kikig000, @lavendarhearts

Summary: Reaching the city of Ba Sing Se, Zuko hopes his sister wouldn't find him here. When you get mistaken for Katara, an unfamiliar boy wages his presence in your life to the dislikes of your prince. How will the great city of Ba Sing Se work out for you? [series]

Iroh was fanning himself, craving for some water… or tea for that matter. Up ahead he saw his nephew pushing forwards. It wondered Iroh, how Zuko could go so long without something to drink. Not able to take another step, Iroh stopped, leaning against a rock. Puffing loudly from walking for almost days now through the Earth kingdom.

“Let me help you.” – you said, jogging up to him from behind. Barely having any strength in your legs as well. The weight of travelling for days on foot without much food or water heavy on you. Joining his side, you moved his arm over your shoulder, to keep him upright. Iroh waved his hand at you, letting you know it was alright.

Iroh nearly sunk through his knees as you kept him upright with all your might. – “Perhaps we should rest.” – you suggested helping him gently down. Iroh exhaled deep sitting against the rock. – “Get up!” – Zuko’s voice startled you. He stared at his uncle, having walked back. – “Zuko surely we can…” – you began gesturing at him.

Immediately silenced by him. – “I said up!” – Zuko cut through. The rest of your words swallowed back in. Iroh was already making his way to get up as you had enough of it. – “No!” – you called back. – “We’ve been walking for days now without proper food or water.” – you reminded him. – “Give us a moment.” – begging as you approached him.

“We don’t have a moment.” – Zuko replied, gesturing behind you. Without any other words, you knew what or rather who he was speaking off. His sister Azula. Ever since he knew she was hunting him down, he had been fixated on moving forwards. If anyone allowed him, he’d track the entire length of the Earth Kingdom just to stay way ahead of her.

Reaching for his hand, you clasped your hands around it, lowering his arm. – “I know you worry, but look at your uncle.” – you told him, forcing him to take a look. Zuko shifted his gaze from you to his beloved uncle. Seeing him puff to catch his breath. – “Give him a moment… that is all I ask for.” – surely the sympathy for his uncle would make him fold.

Zuko closed his eyes with a soft sigh. – “We’ll leave in three.” – he outed pulling his hand away. You bowed your head to him out of gratitude. Turning around, you rushed back to Iroh. Kneeling before him as you took out your flask. Taking the top off it, you offered him the little water it carried. –“No… I cannot take this.” – Iroh said, knowing it didn’t hold enough for the three of them. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to hear it. – “Take it Iroh. I’m not thirsty anyways.” – you lied to not make him feel so guilty.

You offered him the flask once more. With a little persuasion, he accepted the water. Drinking the little from it with some guilt. Iroh gave you back the empty flask as you putted it away. – “Can you go a bit further?” – you asked him, wanting to be sure he was strong enough to continue the journey. Iroh nodded. You made some way for him, getting up so there was room to help him up to his feet.

You dusted Iroh’s clothing, taking him by the arm afterwards. – “One step at a time.” – you told him. Iroh smiling back at you. Zuko waited for the two of you to join him before taking the heavy lead again. Forcing a way through the Earth kingdom with nothing but trees, rocks and ground around for miles. You so hoped you’d encounter a little village soon, just to have a proper meal and sleep.

You were relieved, feeling blessed when you finally saw the city rise on the horizon. It gave you so much strength, you could practically run to it. The three of you walked through the city gates worn out. Iroh looked curiously around. – “I know this city…” – he said taking an observing eye. – “Ba Sing Se.” – he finished.

It made you widen your eyes a bit, having read so much about the great city of Ba Sing Se in books. Never being able to visit it. In truth when you still lived with your tribe, you weren’t able to visit much things. Never going further than your own tribe. Now you were seeing the world with the fire prince you were promised too. All in pursuit of the Avatar. – “Now where can we eat?” – Zuko asked, secretly being hungry for a while too. Iroh chuckled when he heard Zuko’s stomach grumble. Iroh motioned for the two of you to follow him.

You noticed Zuko looking wary over his shoulders. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, seemed to startle him. – “She wouldn’t dare come here. We’re save here.” – you reassured him. Zuko took your hand from his shoulder, holding it for a few seconds before he let it drop at your side once more. – “For now.” – he replied, going after his uncle. Taking a deep breath, you waited a second before going after them. Iroh and Zuko walking into a place.

You were about to head in as well, feeling a sudden hand on your shoulder, put you to a stop. – “Katara.” – a male voice spoke, turning you firmly around. The gesture made you gasp. The boy blinked surprised, then his expression faltered. – “I’m sorry… I thought you were someone I know.” – he said lowering his hand on you. – “You mean Katara?” – you asked seeing him nod.

“You…you kind of … I thought…there aren’t many water tribe girls walking around the Earth Kingdom.” – he told you with a chuckle. It made you look down at your own clothing. They had been through hell, but they were still significant Water tribe clothing. – “If you know Katara, then you must know the Avatar?” – you asked thinking back of when you first heard that name. Kyoshi island. Where the Avatar’s friends nearly ripped you away from Zuko.

Thinking you might be a prisoner, when in fact you aren’t. The boy quirked up an eyebrow at you. – “Do you know where he is?” – you wanted to know. Just curiously, not even sure if you would give the information to Zuko if he did tell you. – “Why so curious about him?” – the boy curled up a smirk. You smiled sheepishly back at him, pulling your shoulders up.

Hoping it didn’t came over as obsessed. The boy than laughed loud. – “I was only teasing. So not Katara what are you doing so far away from your tribe?” – he asked slipping an arm over you. – “First of all, it’s Y/n. Princess to you” – you told him with an elbow punch to his stomach.

The boy felt the air being sucked out of his lungs, coughing, holding a hand on his stomach. – “Second that is a long story I’m not sharing with you.” – you finished crossing your arms. The boy chuckled again, straightening his posture. – “Royalty. I see now.” – he laughed out. – “The name’s Jet, princess.” – he dramatically bowed before you, making you roll your eyes at him. Jet looked all smug at you. – “Shall I treat your highness to a meal?” – he asked speaking so annoyingly sweet.

“I will provide my own meal.” – you told him, remembering your company. Looking over your shoulder, you wondered why anyone hasn’t started missing you. Surely one of them must have come to look? Shaking the awful thoughts away, you turned around, seeing Jet fall in line with you. – “I will eat alone!” – you called out, shutting the door behind you. The establishment was not overcrowded. Looking around, you searched for your company.

You sighed disappointed, seeing them sit in the corner, already enjoying their meal. Making your way over to them, you came to sit in front of them. – “How sweet to wait for me.” – you said with a sarcastic undertone to Zuko. – “It’s getting cold.” – was the only thing he replied. Too busy slurping his soup with noodles.

Sighing softly, you picked up the spoon letting it swirl in the bowl. Your gaze got drawn to the doors, seeing them open. Seeing Jet enter almost made you spew your soup out on Iroh’s face. Coughing loud, you nearly choked as Jet made eye contact with you. Looking questionable at the company you were with. Zuko gave you some hard slaps on the back to settle down.

Pushing his hand away, you watched Jet come to sit at a table, giving him enough clearance to stare at you. – “Yuk.” – Iroh’s disgust pulled your attention away. – “This tea is cold.” – Iroh said trying to get the taste of his tongue. –“Just drink up old man.” – Zuko replied annoyed, not caring one bit about tea.

Iroh wrapped his hands around the cup. You watched, blinking in wonder as there emerged a warmth from the tea. Eyes widened as you knew Iroh had just heated the tea up in his hands. He blew the steam away before taking a careful sip. It made you look around, hoping no one had seen it. The last thing you wanted was another chase.

The three of you stepped out, fully satisfied. Now all you wanted to do was rest and sleep for days. Iroh was mumbling to Zuko, probably about looking for a place to stay as you followed behind them. Mindlessly looking around at your surroundings. – “Y/n!” – you suddenly heard, eyes widening as it only could be Jet. You turned around, seeing Jet jog up to you. Iroh and Zuko turning curiously around as well.

“I mean princess.” – Jet teased once he was near you. Zuko looked over at his uncle, trying to get some validation that what he was seeing was true. And not some hallucination. – “Are those your protecters?” – Jet motioned with his head at Iroh and Zuko behind you. – “I mean as a princess I figure, you must be protected well.” – he curled up a smile as you laughed sweetly.

Zuko took an annoyed step forwards. Uncle Iroh quickly grabbing him by the arm, pulling him back. Zuko stumbled back, looking confused at his uncle before slapping his hand off. – “No, they are my…” – you paused, not sure how to phrase it. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to go further into detail, not wanting to risk revealing any identities.

“I can show you around? Are you looking for a place to stay?” – Jet asked ruffling his hand shyly through his hair. Zuko looked disgusted at Jet’s gesture. – “We are. Do you know any good places to stay?” – you asked feeling a sudden pull on your arm. Stumbling back as Zuko stepped in. – “We’ll find our own place.” – he made clear with a glare. Jet took a step closer to Zuko, getting toe to toe with him.

“Where I come from, we show princesses more respect.” – Jet said, angering Zuko. Both men glaring at each other. – “She has my respect.” – Zuko made clear. Jet scoffed. – “Clearly.” – he answered smug. Zuko felt his anger boil, wanting to throw hands with him. – “Nephew.” – Iroh said to break things apart. Zuko huffed annoyed, turning round as he grabbed you firm by the wrist.

Pulling you away. Jet took out his sword. – “Hands off her.” – Jet shouted as Zuko paused at the subtle sound of Jet’s sword getting pulled out. Zuko turned glaring at the sword pointed at him. – “Let her go!” – Jet called out. – “Don’t worry princess, I’ll show you respect.”

You stared between Zuko and Jet. – “Let’s… let’s settle down. There is no need for swords.” – Iroh started. – “Shut up old man.” – Jet shouted, silencing him. – “Don’t tell him to shut up.” – you answered bothered at Jet’s tone. You stepped away from Zuko, coming to stand in the middle of them. Zuko wanting to pull you away, but you slapped his hand away. – “You should be treated with respect.” – Jet told you, taking a step back, yet his sword was still up pointing at you.

“You should be taken care of. By somehow who treats you right, princess.” – he finished. – “Like you?” – Zuko shouted with mockery at him. It made Jet clench his jaw. – “Clearly he doesn’t!” – Jet shifted his sword towards Zuko. Zuko inhaled deep, readying himself to launch at Jet if Iroh hadn’t stopped him. Stopping him by his shoulders. – “Enough!” – you called out losing your patience. You were too tired to handle this.

Not wanting to spend another second with these bickering men over respect, you walked off. Iroh coming quietly after you, not wanting to stop them any longer. Jet lowered his sword, gazing at your departure. He got startled when Zuko was up close with him. – “Leave my betrothed alone!” – he threatened before going after the two of you. Jet blinked stunned.

Iroh found a place to stay. A room shaped like a square. On three sides there were beds, curtains pulled before them for privacy. You went straight to one of the beds, pulling the curtains behind you. Zuko sat down annoyed in the middle of the room. His uncle joining him across from him. Iroh set his freshly set cup of tea down on the low stand between them. One look of his uncle, made Zuko sigh loud. – “I was civil.” – Zuko snapped at his uncle. Iroh quirked his eyebrow up. Communicating in silence as he knew how to handle Zuko.

Zuko sighed loud placing an elbow on his knee, chin resting on his knuckles. – “Who was he even?” – Zuko called out annoyed. – “How did he even know Y/n? Y/n’s never been here. Where did he even meet her?” – Zuko said bothered to his uncle. Whining about the fact another boy knew you. – “And the nerve he had.” – Zuko slammed his fist on the table, startling Iroh as it nearly spilled his tea.

Iroh quickly picked his cup up to protect his tea from any further stomps. – “Are you perhaps jealous nephew?” – Iroh casually spoke. – “No!” – Zuko replied, slamming his fist again on the table. – “Why should I be jealous? She is my betrothed. I’m not jealous over some guy taking an interest in her. She’s not going to abandon the agreement for him.” – Zuko let out clearly agitated.

“Then why are you getting so worked up over him?” – Iroh asked knowing just how to nudge his nephew just that little more. – “He’s a guy!” – Zuko shouted getting up annoyed. He stormed over to his side, pushing the curtain out of the way. Iroh chuckled amusingly.

Laying down on your bed, you smiled bashful, having heard it all. Jealous Zuko was something you never thought you’d encounter. Here he was getting all worked up over Jet. It didn’t take you all to fall asleep. Having been too tired to go on for any second longer. Day making way for night. Sudden noises made you wake up from your slumber. Moving restless in your sleep.

The noises getting louder as it made you jump up. Afraid it might be anyone to rat you out. Getting out of bed, you moved the curtains aside. Seeing the room was empty. Both Zuko and Iroh’s curtains still closed. Taking a calming breath, you ventured into the room. Sneaking out to see what those noises were. With one last glance at the others, you left the room.

Sneaking your way into the corridor to where the noises were coming from. Getting closer to it. Hearing it come from just around the corner. Ready to peek around the corner and be faced with the noises. A sudden grip on you, made you spin rapidly around. A hand getting pressed against your mouth to deafen out any screams. Eyes widening as he brought a finger to his lips, shushing you. Jet.

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ma1dita · 8 months ago

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when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.3k

summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint

(posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst

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merrybloomwrites · 7 months ago

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Damien Haas - Vet Waiting Room

Summary: Who knew cats could be wingmen? A chance encounter in the vet waiting room can lead to more for Damien and Y/N.

Word Count: 674

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You absolutely love your cat. Shadow is the cutest, sweetest, chunkiest boy. But god forbid you try to trim his nails. You’ve nearly lost an eyeball one too many times and decided to just pay professionals to do nail trims every couple months.

It’s a bit of an inconvenience, needing to block out an hour so frequently just to get your cat's nails cut, but they’re so good with him that the time and money is worth it.

You’re waiting at the vet’s office for Shadow to be called back when someone walks in with a cat carrier of his own. He signs in and sits next to you on the bench. The first thing you notice is the purple in his hair. The next thing you notice is the biggest, fluffiest cat you’ve ever seen sitting in his carrier.

He notices you looking at him and introduces himself, holding out a hand and saying “Hi, I’m Damien.”

You politely shake his hand and say, “Hi Damien, I’m Y/N. And who is this?” you ask, in regard to his cat.

“This here is Zelda, she’s my big ‘ol chonk,” he replies, his voice full of love for his pet. “Who do you have with you?”

“This is Shadow, he’s also my biggest boy. His brother is home,” you over explain.

“Are they actual brothers?” you nod and he continues saying, “That’s really cool! I call my two cats sisters but they’re not related. They just get along like typical sisters do.”

“Oh yea, my boys definitely act like brothers. All the fights are worth seeing them randomly cuddle together though.”

“Oh I absolutely agree,” Damien says.

He opens his mouth to speak again but the receptionist calls him back to a patient room. “It was nice meeting you,” he says as he gets up.

“You too,” you reply and he walks away.

The receptionist says, “The techs are just a little behind, we’ll get Shadow taken care of soon.”

As you sit and wait, you can’t stop thinking about Damien. Even when Shadow is taken back for his nail trim, you can’t stop kicking yourself for not getting Damien’s number. Your friends are always telling you to put yourself out there, maybe join some dating sites, but you explain that you’d rather meet someone naturally.

And now you’ve met someone. This could’ve been a perfect opportunity and you totally blew it.

Shadow is brought back out and you pay for the service. You hope that Damien will be out before you leave, but now you’ve run out of reasons to be there. You walk out and start to load Shadow into the car.

Just as you’re about to get in the driver’s seat you hear someone calling your name. Turning around you see Damien walking out of the office, struggling to catch up while carrying Freya in her carrier.

“Hold on,” he says, “Just let me-” he cuts himself off and goes to his car, setting Freya inside as you watch amusedly.

He walks back to you and nervously says, “Totally understand if not, but uh, would you maybe want to go out sometime?”

Even though you’re introverted, and truthfully nervous about the idea of a date, you manage to confidently answer, “Yea, I’d like that.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, alerting you that he’s just as nervous as you are, and he says, “Could I get your number and I’ll reach out to set something up?”

“That’s perfect,” you reply and the two of you exchange numbers.

After another goodbye to Damien, with his promise to text you soon, you finally get into your car. Turning to Shadow in the seat next to you, you say, “I guess I need to thank you for hating nail trims, since you technically got me a date.” You laugh, letting out the excited and nervous energy bubbling in you.

As you text back and forth with Damien that night to set up your date, Shadow gets extra treats for being such a good wingman.

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AN: Thank you for reading! I have one more Damien story coming out in a couple of weeks!

#damien haas x reader #smosh fanfiction

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laiiaaa · 1 year ago

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MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE — CARMEN BERZATTO 1. BUTTERSCOTCH — you finally say hello to a familiar face in the city after a little girl bumps into you. (2.7k) masterlist | next | taglist

Carmen keeps track of the running grocery list in his head:

Green onions? Check. Shallots? Check. Rolled oats? Check.

“Alright,” he huffs into the phone, a stupid thing tucked snug between his shoulder and jaw.

“Carm, I’m serious—”

“Nat, I got it, alright? I’ll call the fuckin’ guy.” Strawberries? Check. Eggs? Check. “I’m at the store, ‘n I’ll be back, ‘n then I’ll call him. It’s fine.” Dino nuggets? Check. That way-too-sugary cereal Sofia likes—? Even though he wishes Richie never gave it to her—? Check, check, check, so fuckin’ checked. “Now, do you wanna talk to—”

He looks to his side, where Sofia once stood with chubby little fingers hooked on the cart, that raggedy old stuffed animal always caught in the other fist. Gone. Carmen’s heart stops and catches in his throat.

Natalie’s voice again, much quieter now that the phone’s not at his ear. “Hello?”

He doesn’t even hear his sister, doesn’t process her words.

He turns around. “Sof?” But she’s not there.

He tries again, facing forward, a little louder. “Sofia?” Nothing. “Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, ending the call without a second thought. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

He shoves his phone into his pocket, abandons the cart altogether, pokes his head into the aisle over. “Sofia.” Nothing. “Shit—”

He can’t breathe. A closed fist shoots to his chest to try and soothe the droughted ache. The ceiling’s closing in from above, every aisle looks the same, his feet are too heavy to carry him fast enough through the store.

Where’s his fuckin’ kid?

You’re spooked out of a fatigued trance by a clumsy little girl at your feet in the produce section.

She can’t be older than four, her chubby little face framed by golden brown curls, dressed in a cute little black dress and pink tights, ballet flats to boot. By her hand is a well-loved stuffed animal: an orange tabby cat with lint fuzzies along its body, teetering on the edge of the display about to fall into the lettuce.

“Well, hello,” you start.

She peeks up at you through stray curls with a grin. “Hi.”

You do a quick scan of the immediate area but spot nothing other than a worker stocking bananas twenty feet away, another pushing a cart of mangoes. “Where’d you come from, hm?” You perch down next to her and try to offer a warm smile to keep her calm.

“I’m here with my daddy.”

“Yeah? Where’s he at?”

Her lips, shiny with drool, puff into a pout. “I…” Her little voice wobbles, and you know that fucking wobble, that precursor to something uncontrollable and wretched, and for a split second you consider letting her cry, just on the off chance her dad hears it.

But you come to your senses: it’ll take all but five, no more than ten minutes to cover the entire store ground. You graze your hand by her back and offer her the sorry excuse for a cat. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s alright. I’ll help you.”

“B-But…” Those pretty brown eyes of her turn glassy, ready for tears, and her lip quivers, her cheeks puff out.

“I’ll help you find him, okay? We’ll wait right here, and I promise he’ll find you. We won’t leave this spot til he does.”

She hesitates before she nods, gives you a warbled, “Okay.”

You give her your name—something you read or heard from word of mouth, how putting a name to your face makes you more trustworthy. “What’s yours?”

“...Sofia.”

“Sofia,” you repeat. “That’s a very pretty name.”

The dimples that come through with her smile have you swooning, your chest filling with something sweet. A supercut you’ve long since abandoned flits through one of the best and worst years you’ve endured: kisses at the door for hello and goodbye, chilly Chicago mornings spent in someone else’s sheets, serving coffee in thick handmade mugs and being thanked for it with lips pressed to your cheek. But that was a year ago, and it’s long gone. You’re better off now—occupied with work, and running a business, and trying new things, and finding comfort in the solitude of an apartment that’s filled with nothing but the smell of coffee grounds.

Your pointer finger lifts her toy’s head: “And who’s this?”

“Butterscotch,” she says, Butter sounding a whole lot like Buttah.

“Yeah? Where’d you come up with that name?”

“My daddy’s a chef, he teached it to me.”

A chef, you hum, No wonder he’s here at seven in the morning.

And you do just about everything you’d want someone to do if this were your kid: you keep her right where she is like you promised her, you listen to all her stories she has with Butterscotch, you answer the silly questions she asks while she holds your finger in a squishy hand and bears a gummy smile.

Until—

A man wrought with stress approaches. Fitted white tee, loose denim on his hips, beat up Nikes that’ve probably seen better days. Golden brown curls like the little girl’s, only thicker, darkened with age, and half-straightened, probably from the way he runs his fingers through them like he does as he walks toward you and the girl. Buff arms, built shoulders, and they’re littered with tattoos…

Not what you expected. And he looks so fucking familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it—

“Sofia,” he huffs, and she scurries over to him in tiny yet quickened steps and jumps into his arms, his eyes closing and brows furrowing with a relief that’s palpable as he tucks his nose into her swirling hair. “What’d I tell you about comin’ to the store w’me, huh?” A veiny hand with the letters S O U inked on the fingers cups the back of her head as he sways her from side to side, failing to give her much of a stern look at all despite his frustration. “You gotta stay by my side, I told you, you’ll get lost.”

“But I wasn’t lost, Daddy,” she pouts, “I was right here, and—and I had to find Butterscotch, and you—you weren’t there—”

“Okay,” he soothes, rubbing his hand along her back before he thumbs away budding tears from her fleshy cheeks. “Okay, hon…” He props her at his hip. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You just scared me ‘s all, alright? Didn’t know where you were, had me lookin’ all over for you.”

“...I’m sorry,” she mumbles, clearly upset, nuzzling into her dad’s shoulder as he presses a sweet kiss to her head.

He looks to you, then, and you lend him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about her, she’s, uh…” He peeks at her, so lovingly— “She can be a handful sometimes.”

“No, don’t apologize, she was great.” Your eyes drift to his hands. They’re big, strong, like he knows what to do with them around the house, with a baby girl...with her mother, too, though you wonder where that stands. You try not to. “She’s talkative, makes for a fun conversation. A great storyteller, too.”

He smiles, and it’s hearty, with a twitch of a brow as he draws just a bit closer—it’s slight, so slight you almost think you’re imagining things. “Think so? She doesn’t usually, um…doesn’t usually wanna talk to people, y’know?” He hikes her up again, and she turns so that she’s facing you. “Get all grumpy, don’t ya, Sof? Like with your Uncle Richie?”

“But she’s nice,” she chimes in, lifting her head from his shoulder and leaving the cat’s head peeking through. “Not mean like he is.”

Again with that smile, he looks at her with raised brows, bobs her up and down as he holds her tight, like she’s his entire world. “Yeah?” He shoots you back a look, half-impressed. “You don’t wanna see him today, huh?”

“No,” she grumbles, face smushed into his tee. “Can she come to work with us instead?”

“Sof…” He scoffs, cocking his head to the side, and his eyes dart between you and his girl. “That’s not—we can’t just—”

“Pretty please, Daddy…” She pouts at him, pulls on his neck with her arms looped around it, starts trying to lean back to stir up trouble but his hands hold her firm to his torso. “You said Eva and Vivi can’t play today…”

“I—I know, hon— . . . It’s just— . . .” Kissing his teeth, he contemplates for a moment. “She probably has work to do, y’know? Just like I have to work? And how sometimes you can’t come with me?”

“Where does she work?”

“Uhhh…” In an awkward pause, he seems to realize the dilemma. The expectant glance your way is almost painful. “Shit,” he hisses, holding Sofia with one hand to run fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, I should’ve—I should introduce myself, right?” The pained look on his face makes you think the question is genuine, and he offers his right hand to you— “I’m Carmen, but, um, most people just call me Carmy.”

It clicks: He’s Carmen Berzatto. Not just some guy or some chef in the grocery store you’ve happened to meet, but the guy. The guy who owns the fine dining joint across the street from your cafe; the guy who showed up to the city a few years ago only to revamp his family-owned sandwich shop in its entirety; the guy you’d heard so much about from the gossip around the block between vendors; the guy who left his roots to be something so much bigger than anyone could’ve imagined; the guy who came back with a reputation with none to rival and a shattered family in its shadow. The prodigal son of Chicago. You heard of him but never met.

“Y-Yeah, right, right,” you nod, stumbling for the right words. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.” You take his hand graciously as you give him your name. His handshake is firm, solid, sure of himself, with a callused palm and dry skin and cracked knuckles, an inked-on hand with a knife through its palm on the back of his hand. “You own The Bear, right?”

“I do.” Sheepish, like it’s embarrassing to be successful.

“Cool, cool, I’ve, um, I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, but I’ve never been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Something warm in your belly comes to the surface and you try to drown it. “I own the cafe across the street—? Just a, uh, a smaller place—” You shake your head as if to dismiss the thought of him even knowing about it. “I dunno if—”

“No, no, yeah, I know that one, a few doors down—” he nods, fervently— “Etta’s, right?”

You smile. He knew of it so quick, with so little detail you want to think it means something. “Yeah, that’s the one.” For fuck’s sake, the guy probably just likes to support his local businesses. Get a grip.

“My sister loves that place, goes there all the time. But I, uh…” A soft smile at his girl. “I don’t usually have much time to go myself…”

“Yeah, I can imagine you’re pretty busy with her.” Unless her mom is in the picture…?

But he doesn’t take the bait—he only smiles, hums with a subtle nod, gives Sofia a pat on the back to get her attention, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hey, cub, guess what?”

She comes to only slightly, with pale blonde locks like angel’s hair tickling Carmen’s neck. Grumbles something akin to a Hm?

“You know those chocolate chip muffins you like? The ones your Aunt Natalie gets for you?”

Her curls are already caught in her eyelashes. “With the sparkles on top?”

He gives you a knowing look: sugar, not sparkles. “Yes, with the sparkles. Did you know our new friend here runs that shop?”

Her head perks up with a gasp. “What?” Her excitement is so soft, and she can’t even stave off a smile now, tiny teeth shining through to show the dimples in her cheeks again.

“You heard me.”

From her mouth is only a whisper, a doe-eyed look targeted right at you. “No way.”

You smile at her. “Yes way.”

She puts on those puppy dog eyes, looks at Carmen with a pout as she tugs on him again. “Daddy, can we please—”

In one fell swoop, his hand whisks her hair out of her face. “Uh-uh. Nice try.”

Oh, but she’s a stubborn one. “But please—”

“Not today, baby, we gotta finish shopping, hm? Then go to work?” His eyes dart to meet yours in a knowing glance, a silent apology and excuse to leave. “Maybe I’ll ask Aunt Natalie to get them for you tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

She huffs and buries herself into his neck again, turning away from you now that she’s in a surly mood.

“Okay,” he sighs, smiling to himself, and you can’t deny the comfort in seeing his little girl so cozy with him, like he’s either the only parent around, or he’s really just that good of a father—and husband, or fiancé, or boyfriend, or whatever he might be. You don’t know if you should feel guilty for wanting to pry.

The conversation lulls to a hesitant stop, like neither one of you is sure how to bid farewell—or whether you want to do so at all.

“Y’know,” he starts, with a finality to his tone, “I’ve still gotta—”

“Yeah, me too—”

“And I left the cart in the other aisle—”

“Right, right, of course—”

“And they need me at the—”

“Same here, I need to, uh—”

“Right, yeah, so um—”

“Yeah—”

“I guess I should—”

“Probably—”

“And, uh—…”

“It was nice to meet you, though,” you finish, maybe a little too enthusiastic for only having just done so minutes ago.

But if it were, Carmen doesn’t show it. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you, too. I’ll, uh…I’ll see you around.”

You offer a softened smile. “Guess so.”

And he leaves you with a curt nod before he turns around with Sofia’s face smushed into his shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck to leave Butterscotch hugged to the nape of it. That’s all you see, then: just a beaten up stuffed animal and springy golden curls as Carmen rounds the corner of the aisle, your breath gone short and face gone warm by the end of it.

Half of it, you’re sure, is the simple brevity of it all: consoling a lost child, to chatting with her father, to finding out he’s a business neighbor. And against your better judgment, the other half of it is a twinge of attraction to him. Even though he has a kid, and he may very well be married, or at least in a relationship, and by the looks of it, stressed out of his goddamn mind…

But there’s just something about him.

The way he was worried about his daughter like he’s supposed to be, the way he holds her and dotes on her and rubs her back like it’s nothing but natural to him, the heartwarming smile that reaches his eyes just by looking at his precious girl. The hard-earned strength in his hands and arms, the symbolic imagery of his tattoos that you’ve yet to dwell upon in late night hours, the awkward demeanor about him like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to talk to you—or if he even knows how. And all this, you see in a man working down the street, a man you’ve never spoken to until today, who could be the worst person in the world for all you know.

You don’t, is the thing. You don’t know his middle name, or his favorite color, or favorite food, or where he’s even worked, really, other than here in Chicago. You don’t know if Sofia’s mother is still around, or whatever happened to her if she isn’t, or if it’s a topic he breaches freely or not at all.

You don’t know enough about him yet to judge. You don’t know much at all. You don’t know if you want to, whether it’ll send you head first into a mess of pasts not unlike the one you’ve been trying to crawl out of alone for the past grueling months, if it’d upturn all the good you’ve tried to make stick.

But if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you want to see him again.

And that you’ll have to make a batch or two of muffins first.

masterlist | next | taglist

@knight4xmas @ajourneyforjoy @penguin876

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #dad!carm #jeremy allen white #carmy the bear #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fic #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx

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jerzwriter · 1 month ago

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It's Kiss-mas! A Carrick Family Holiday

Once again, @/artbyainna (IG) hits it out of the park! I have not done many commissions lately, but I wanted something special for my OTP for the holidays, and she delivered! Look at my babies with their babies!!! ❤️I'm simply in love with this!

I wrote a story to accompany it below.

Book: Open Heart (Post-Series) Pairing: Tobias x Casey Carrick (F!MC) Featuring: The Carrick Girls: Samantha, Brooke & Kayla Rating: General Words: 1,300 Summary: The Carrick family has opted to have a quiet Thanksgiving at home, and the girls have unknowingly started some new traditions.

Thanksgiving Morning

Thanksgiving morning was finally here, and the Carrick household was buzzing with activity. Tobias and Casey were in the kitchen perfecting their holiday meal while their daughters were in the adjoining family room. Toys were scattered about as Samantha read a poem about being thankful, Brooke busily colored decorations at the coffee table, and little Kayla sat nearby, babbling with delight. Casey watched the peaceful scene with a full heart; this was exactly the kind of holiday she had hoped for.

A short time later, Kayla’s sweet babbling stopped, and she waddled toward the kitchen with her dark curls bouncing and the look of joy that could only be found on a child’s face this time of year in place.

“It’s Kiss-mas!” she announced triumphantly, beaming as she raised her arms in the air.

Samantha, who remained on the couch, rolled her eyes in true big-sister fashion. “It’s not Christmas, Kayla. Today’s Thanksgiving.”

Brooke looked up from her coloring, her brow slightly furrowed. Ever the peacemaker, she wanted to settle things quickly. “It is Thanksgiving,” she agreed. “But we can start celebrating Christmas today, too.”

Kayla’s tiny body appeared to tremble with glee. “Kiss-mas!”

Tobias scooped his youngest into his arms, pressing a kiss onto her chubby cheek. “You know what, sweetheart. We can start celebrating the Christmas season today.”

“Really?” Brooke gasped, her eyes wide. She had been trying to broker peace before but never imagined they’d get this lucky. “Does that mean we can put up the tree today?”

Casey joined the conversation, a soft smile on her lips. “We don’t have big plans,” she reminded Tobias. “Just us and the girls. So I think we could start decorating, don’t you?”

Tobias turned to her, Kayla wriggling happily in his arms. “I don't see why now. After dinner, we’ll make it happen. Tree, stockings, the works!”

“Yey!!!” Brooke squealed as she danced around the living room. Even Samantha couldn’t help but smile as Kayla happily declared, “It’s Kiss-mas!” once more.

Dinner Time

The house was filled with the aroma of roasting turkey. Samantha helped Tobias set the table, and Brooke and Casey were finishing up in the kitchen as Kayla chased the family cat, Pietro, all around the room. While Tobias and Casey were eager to dig into the delicious meal, the girls were more focused on the promise of Christmas decorating to come.

Samantha was the first to push her plate forward. “I’m done!” she announced with a broad grin.

“Done?” Tobias asked with a raised brow. “You barely touched your food, hon. You’ve gotta eat more than that.”

“Daddy’s right,” Brooke chimed in, clutching a dinner roll. “We need energy for decorating!”

Casey laughed softly, sharing an amused glance with Tobias. “We do need energy,” she agreed. “But there will be no decorating until after we have the pumpkin pie. That’s non-negotiable.”

Kayla sat tall in her high chair, clapping her hands. “Pie! Pie!” she giggled, pointing to the dessert on the counter.

“You can have pie, sweetie,” Casey promised. “As soon as you finish that turkey.”

Despite the older girl’s minds already being set on the tree, the meal was filled with tender moments, especially when they shared what they were most thankful for. Samantha had a long list prepared, covering everything from her family to her books and dolls. Brooke quickly added Mommy’s bedtime stories and Daddy’s pancakes as Tobias playfully whispered into his wife's ear, “Note, it’s not your food,” he laughed. Kayla’s contribution was a little less cohesive—“Cat! Turkey! Kiss-mas!” She yelled as Tobias grinned and told her that was a perfect list.

Decorating the Tree

The girls had barely cleared their plates before they asked their father to get the tree. Almost as eager as they were, he needed little prodding. He returned from the basement with plastic storage bins containing their decorations before Casey finished clearing the table. The girls squealed when he placed them next to the fireplace, where their stockings would soon hang.

Casey knelt beside one of the bins and pulled out their beloved angel tree topper, holding it up with a smile. “Remember this?” she asked Tobias, gently taking his hand. “We bought it our first Christmas together.”

“Before you had us?” Samantha asked, seemingly shocked that her parents had a life before she and her sisters entered it.

“Yep,” Tobias laughed. “Mommy and Daddy actually did things before you were all born, too, you know.”

“But I’m sure they weren’t as fun!” Brooke giggled as she pulled their stockings from another bin.

“Daddy, you have to start with the lights!” Samantha called out, already wrestling with a tangled string. Casey chuckled as Tobias groaned. She knew this was his least favorite part, but Samantha had already assigned the job to him.

The room quickly filled with laughter as holiday music played softly in the background. Brooke worked diligently on the lower branches while, with Tobias’s help, Samantha worked on the higher ones. Casey watched with a smile as she kept Kayla occupied, and they both kept Pietro away from the tree.

“Can we do the stockings next?” Brooke asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Tobias replied, then he helped Brooke hang them carefully along the mantle while Casey added the finishing touches to the tree.

With everything finally in place, they stepped back to admire their work - their faces aglow from the tree’s twinkling lights. It felt like magic. Tobias wrapped his arm around Casey, placing a kiss on her head. “This is perfection,” he whispered, and nearby, Kayla apparently agreed. “It’s Kiss-mas!” she yelled, bouncing up and down with delight.

The End of the Night

“What can we do next?” Samantha asked, hands on her hips.

Tobias exchanged a look with his exhausted wife. “I say we watch some Christmas movies,” he suggested, settling back into the couch.

“Can we have popcorn?” Brooke asked, though her tone left little room for negotiation.

“There’s no other way to do it,” Casey laughed, and as the girls piled onto the couch, Tobias joined her in the kitchen to make popcorn. With the quiet hum of the microwave filling the space, he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

“Do I tell you how thankful I am for you often enough?” he asked, his voice low and filled with emotion.

She tilted her head to meet his gaze, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “You tell me quite often,” she replied. “Do I do the same for you?”

“Yes,” he smirked. “But feel free to lay it on me more often. My ego isn’t as big as you think.”

Casey’s laughter filled the room as she gently smacked his chest. “Oh, please. Your ego couldn’t possibly get any bigger.”

They glanced into the living room, where the girls were snuggled under a blanket. Samantha and Brooke already bickering over what to watch first, while Kayla, nestled between them, looked completely unphased by the commotion.

“Our lives have sure changed since our first Thanksgiving together,” Casey said, leaning into Tobias’s chest.

He nodded, his voice full of reverence. “You can say that again, and they just keep getting better.”

“I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her temple before they carried the popcorn into the living room.

Settling onto the couch, Tobias announced, “All right! It’s Kayla’s turn to pick!” The toddler squealed, pointing at the screen. “Kiss-mas show!”

“Well, that narrows it down,” Casey laughed.

“Don’t worry, girls,” Tobias assured. “We’ll watch all of our favorites tonight.”

A gentle snow began to fall outside as Rudolph appeared on the television screen. Snuggled under the blanket with their daughters on their laps, Tobias and Casey’s hearts couldn’t have been more full. They shared a quick kiss before they turned back to the TV, basking in the glow of their tree and the simple joy of being together.

It was the perfect Thanksgiving, after all.

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