Tumgik
#maybe some light reading will help him understand
thoughtfulchaos773 · 8 hours
Text
Thanks @vacationship for pointing out that Sydney initiates the first touch with Carmy in Review. As an obsessive person, I will analyze the choice to touch Carmy and the buildup to it.
(Warning: This might bring up some annoyance with Carmy. However, the tension and buildup leading to his explosion in this episode are incredibly well done. Looking back on the episode, it speaks to Carmy's character development season 2.)
So we fast forward to Ebra reading the review, revealing Sydney's dish as the restaurant's highlight.
Ribbon of brine, huh?
Tumblr media
Carmy was already busy but noticed he didn't initiate eye contact with her like usual. The only time he looks her way is to shake his head in disappointment-hurt-anger that this dish she makes herself and that he says isn't ready. It gets a green light. Really, it's about Carmys not being genuinely ready to change for their relationship to develop. Carmy doesn't do this until fast forward - he loses Sydney.
Maybe the lack of eye contact tells us there's a disconnect, and there will continue to be a disconnect between them throughout the episode. And the GLARE carmy makes at Sydney. Everyone should already know shit about to blow up.
Carmy was ANGRY.
Tumblr media
He's nodding in agreement, but you can make it out that he's stewing while sydney is asking for understanding, something he's struggling to give.
Sidebar: it brings up the importance of Tina's say hello to Jeff's friend. Carmy isn't feeling that connection - that friendship right now.so Tina saying that adds fuel to his fire.
Fast forward to more buildup, Richie and Sydney's argument. Carmy comes up with his baggage, ready to end the fight between him, but he is not much help.
Tumblr media
Carmy intervenes, and there's still no steady eye contact with Sydney.
Oh and the importance of Sydney saying WE are learning (call back to carmy asking Sydney in 1x03 bridgade, WE want to make this place better, right?). Early on, they established their bond, but Carmy makes sure, maybe out of spite, to say the new system was her idea.
Tumblr media
This is when Sydney really notices they are not on the same page. That he's pushing her away.
Which is what makes her make the unconscious decision to touch carmy. A plea to connect again.
Tumblr media
Carmy stops like she asks him to through touch. Even though he was ready to walk away, he couldn't help but take a moment to pause even though they're under pressure with time. And for the first time, he really looks at her. His eyes come up even though he's still in his feelings about the whole thing.
That also tells us about Carmy's character. He doesn't talk about his feelings, which reminds me of episode 2x06 'Fishes', where Mikey had to practically drag out of Carmy the reason why he was so angry with him. When Carmy is hurt, he either explodes quickly or lets it brew until it's too late. There's no balance in his anger.
But Sydney helps with this. With their relationship, they want to keep the connection going, and in order to do that, with disagreements, there needs to be a goal to always maintain connection.
Arguments happen even with the most compatible people. It isn't toxic as some naysayers use it as an excuse to this ship. both strives to connect and carmy, although angry stops to give Sydney a minute.
But he still turned away and didn't hash it out with her. He didn't check early on if she was okay. This could be a lesson learned- a blow up may not have happened if he had given Sydney more time and connected with her despite his anger.
This gesture reveals a lot about their relationship dynamic, and looking back, it helps me appreciate Carmy's character growth. His desire to improve communication and become a better partner for Sydney? Sydney being the same way and their efforts to maintain their relationship is what makes the ship so compelling.
27 notes · View notes
smoft-demons · 24 days
Text
MC needs some extra love
_______
You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.
Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.
_______
Lucifer:
When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.
He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.
He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.
He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.
You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.
When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.
His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.
_______
Mammon:
Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!
You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.
The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!
He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.
He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.
It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.
Eventually though, he strikes gold!
That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!
From that point on, he knows what to do!
The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!
He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!
Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.
He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.
He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.
The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.
He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!
_______
Levi:
Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.
You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.
Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!
He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!
But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!
So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.
If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.
There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.
When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.
After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!
You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.
_______
Satan:
Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.
Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?
He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.
But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!
You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?
You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.
Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.
You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.
Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.
He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.
In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.
Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.
This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.
It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!
You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.
Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.
(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)
_______
Asmo:
Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.
But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!
Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.
He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.
He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.
Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.
He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.
At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.
He spends a good long while doing that.
He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.
For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!
He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!
… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.
_______
Beel:
Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.
He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.
His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.
He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.
He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.
He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.
When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.
You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?
He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.
The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.
Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.
At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.
So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.
Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.
_______
Belphie:
Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.
It’s straight to baby jail with you!
In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.
He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.
Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.
He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.
Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.
He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.
If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.
He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.
It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.
Belphie knows what he’s doing.
It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.
Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?
You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!
He can fix that, right?
He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.
He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.
Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.
There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.
He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.
If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.
_______
1K notes · View notes
rafeysdoll · 20 days
Note
ooh, what if readers on her periodd? n rafe feels bad
thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy it <3 i couldn’t help mentioning reader wanting to get knocked up. wanna state that there is dad/ daddy calling so.. if you read that’s on you!
Tumblr media
you get real emotional on your period, sniffling and drooling on rafe’s arm as you sigh for the fifth time in three minutes. “hurts so much,” you whine, your vision blurry. “i know.. i know, i’m sorry baby.” he coos, stroking your cheek. “wish i could take it away, make you feel better.” he softly states before leaning in to press a small kiss on your plush lips.
“you can make it better rafe,” you whisper softly, moving away from him to see his face clearer. “can give me a baby.. make you a real daddy.” you mewl, batting your wispy lashes.
he only sighs, tonguing his cheek. “know better than to ask for that, already told you-” you interrupt him with a exaggerated groan. “whyyy do you hate me?” you cry, pushing him away from you lightly before you cross your arms.
maybe on a normal day, he’d scold you a bit for interrupting him. maybe even give you a light tap on your cheek. but he knows right now isn’t the right time.
“if you loved me, you’d wanna knock me up and have a family with me!” you whine, your voice cracking lightly. “you need to calm down, told you enough times that right now’s not the time for that— hey, look at me when i’m talking to you.” he corrects. “don’t pull that shit, alright? y’know how i feel about you. y’know i love you.”
you pout, looking down. “tell dad you understand.” he comments, tapping into what always made you melt. “i understand,” you reply as he nods. “and?..”
“and you always know what’s best, daddy.” you hum, looking back at him with glossy eyes. “exactly, sweet girl.” he praises, pressing a small kiss to your temple.
“for now let’s get some ice cream for that tummy, know you always crave it. won’t that make you feel better?”
1K notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 3 months
Text
…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?
Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.
Maybe you watched too many movies.
Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.
Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.
In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.
Things like,
Still young, I want to explore…
How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?
Last bit of freedom before being tied down…
If you love me and our relationship…
You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.
An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.
You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.
You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.
Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.
It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.
Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.
The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.
“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”
You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.
The perfect place to be out but alone.
You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.
“Love that one.”
You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.
“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”
You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”
He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”
He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…
“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.
He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”
His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”
Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.
You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.
You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.
You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.
He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.
Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.
“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”
You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.
“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.
Kyle frowns. “What about you?”
You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.
“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”
Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.
“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”
You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.
“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”
His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.
2K notes · View notes
suguann · 2 months
Text
I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU
Tumblr media
✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+
tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]
masterlist
Tumblr media
You’re not sure how it all started.
(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.) 
You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown. 
(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.
You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)
It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.
You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.
“Hello?” 
(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon. 
He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)
“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.
You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat. 
It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times. 
You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.
The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now. 
(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)
He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.
Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”
“I want a kiss,” you told him again.
It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.
(That. That—)
You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."
(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)
You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.
There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.
You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air. 
“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”
That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.
You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.
He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.
“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.
That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.
A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.
(That’s how you think it started.)
~~~~~
Everything’s fine.
Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.
Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble. 
Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.
That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.
“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”
(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.
And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.
Normal.)
Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips. 
“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.
Gojo already has acknowledged this, too. 
“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants. 
“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.
“Mhm.” 
Oh. 
You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”
Your breath hitches because, yes, you would. 
That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.
You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.
It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.
Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.
It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday. 
It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either. 
Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar. 
He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan. 
“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.
Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs. 
He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it. 
Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—
The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair. 
His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—
“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”
All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s. 
“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”
Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.
(Because, of course, she knows.
And perhaps she’s not the only one.)
~~~~~
The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work. 
(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)
You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.
A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant. 
Hinata.
A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.
Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.
After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.
“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”
"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.
"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."
"It’s your assistant."
He frowns. “My assistant…?”
“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”
He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.
“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”
“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.” 
“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.
He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.
“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”
“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.
“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."
It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.
Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.
“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”
It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.
“Then…stay.”
…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.
1K notes · View notes
itadorey · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ [𝟖:𝟓𝟑 𝐩.𝐦.] 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
wc: 617, a repost from an old blog, gn reader, fluff
Tumblr media
ignoring gojo satoru is not an easy feat, although you assume that you've gained some kind of proficiency at doing so throughout the years you've known him.
high school gojo was not someone you looked forward to seeing every day, not that 28 year old "i'm-the-strongest-jujutsu-sorcerer-in-the-world" gojo is any better. but, you will concede that maybe, just maybe, there is a tiny part of him that has indeed matured.
but then he goes and annoys nanami and you wonder if maybe he hasn't changed at all.
one of the main things about gojo satoru that bothers you is the fact that he knows he's attractive and powerful, and he doesn't mind reminding people about those facts every single day. you don't know if you should be attracted by the confidence he exudes or put off by his attitude.
yet when you're the one he's teasing (because he hates being ignored, especially by you), a cocky smirk on his face as he pulls his blindfold up to catch your eye, you can't help but feel the former. and your attraction to the white-haired sorcerer is only getting harder and harder to hide.
"just tell him how you feel," shoko drawls, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring your pointed look. you look around the room, making sure that nanami and gojo hadn't arrived yet. you turn your gaze back to shoko when she speaks once again. "it's not like we can't feel the sexual tension between the two of you whenever you're in the same room. to be completely honest, we're all getting tired of seeing the two of you skirt around your feelings for each other. even yaga."
"yaga?" you ask, a horrified expression on your face as you imagine your teacher-turned-principal witnessing the admittedly flirty (not to mention embarrassing) exchanges between you and gojo. "oh god. i don't know if i can face him again."
"who?" shoko asks. "yaga? or satoru?"
"both," you groan, letting your forehead fall onto the table. you look up when shoko pokes your side, and you see her tilting her head towards the entrance of the bar. standing at the entrance is nanami, a scowl on his face as gojo, hair unruly and sunglasses perched on his nose, hangs off his arm. a faint smirk spreads across nanami's face as he nods politely towards you, diverting gojo's attention towards you.
it's brief, lasting a mere second, but everyone in the room can see the way gojo's face lights up when his eyes land on you. he tilts his head down slightly, making sure that his view is unobstructed as he takes in your appearance. you can feel his bright, blue eyes burning into you, gaze soft as he takes in your after-work attire. visible only to nanami is the pink blush creeping up gojo's neck, bright against his pale skin as you wave them over.
nanami and shoko exchange tired looks as gojo slides into the seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and trying to distract you from your conversation with shoko as you continue to ignore him. shoko shakes her head softly, and nanami nods in understanding as he takes the seat next to you, immediately holding up a hand to flag down a waiter. the two of them pretend not to notice the way gojo's smile grows when you finally turn to face him.
sure, everyone might be tired of the way you and gojo are avoiding your very obvious feelings for one another, but the way gojo is looking at you in this very moment lets them know that it won't be long before he finally tries to sweep you off your feet.
Tumblr media
rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!
2K notes · View notes
star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
I Can See You
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!
a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
I Can See You - Taylor Swift
(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)
warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
“What the hell are you all doing?”
You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.
Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.
He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.
He didn’t understand any other kind of power.
The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.
Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.
You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.
“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.
“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”
“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.
You need this.
“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”
You opt to ignore him.
“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”
He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.
“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.
The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.
“Oops,” he says.
He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.
—-
The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.
“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”
“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.
“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”
“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”
You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.
They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.
Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.
Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.
“I have a horrible idea.”
“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”
You and Tyla both gag.
“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”
Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”
You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.
No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”
Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.
“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”
“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.
“I would,” Jackie agrees.
“I mean, it might actually work.”
—-
You corner her the next day.
She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?
Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.
“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”
The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.
“What?”
“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.
She squints at you. “How?”
“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”
She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.
You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.
“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”
She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.
“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”
You ignore that.
“So, you’ll do it?”
“When are you gonna spell him?”
“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”
“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.
—-
The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.
Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.
You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.
Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-
“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”
And she is. She is so painfully pretty.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.
When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.
“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.
The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.
Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.
She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”
You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.
“Uh… yeah.”
She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.
“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”
“That’s fine.”
You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.
Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.
“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”
“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.
“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”
Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.
You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.
It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?
Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.
Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.
But you’re too deep in this now.
She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.
She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.
She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”
—-
You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.
There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.
You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.
“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”
He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.
You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.
“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”
You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.
You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.
“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.
His hand lands on your knee.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.
You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.
“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”
Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.
“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”
His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.
“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”
You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”
You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.
Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.
You stand in front of her, smiling softly.
“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”
“Of course I am.”
She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.
Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.
Everyone is staring.
It’s exhilarating.
You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.
Her breath tickles your neck.
“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”
You smile and place your hand over hers.
“I know.”
—-
The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.
How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?
You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.
Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.
You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.
After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.
You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.
“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.
“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”
“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”
“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”
She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.
“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.
None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.
Her smile is really pretty.
You laugh along with her after a second.
“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”
“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”
“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.
You don’t leave until the stars come out.
—-
The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.
You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.
“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”
He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.
“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.
“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”
Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.
He asks you questions and listens to your answers.
He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.
“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”
You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.
Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.
You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.
“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.
You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”
“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.
“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.
And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.
—-
All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.
The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.
You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.
It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.
—-
The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.
While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.
You’re okay with a bow.
Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.
As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.
“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”
It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.
“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,
“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.
“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”
He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.
He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.
“This one’s fit for a lady.”
You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.
You just need to find Clarisse.
“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.
Where the hell is Clarisse?
You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.
You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.
“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”
You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.
You’ve grown to like it.
He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.
You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.
You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.
You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.
The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.
But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.
She clears her throat and let’s go of you.
You back up.
“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”
You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.
“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”
“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.
—-
After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.
Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.
You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.
Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.
“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”
She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.
“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”
And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.
You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.
But you don’t.
You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.
The bow swings in your hand.
“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”
Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”
You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.
She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.
But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.
—-
On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.
Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.
Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.
You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.
Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.
He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.
“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”
Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.
“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”
She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.
Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.
She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.
“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.
Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.
“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.
“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”
“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.
Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.
Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.
Revenge feels to good, and you need this.
As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.
Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.
Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.
“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”
He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.
He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.
He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.
Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.
It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.
“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.
She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.
Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.
Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.
But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.
You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.
She stares pointedly at the distance.
“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.
—-
You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.
You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”
“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”
“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”
You sit down on the bed next to hers.
“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”
“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”
She slips off her armor.
“I’m not something to you.”
She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.
“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”
You leave silently and you cry in the woods.
—-
When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.
“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.
Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.
Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.
No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.
They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.
When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.
How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?
You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.
But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.
But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.
You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.
Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.
“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.
The words hurt. You say them anyways.
“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”
“Y/N,” Tyla coos.
“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”
—-
You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.
You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.
Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.
You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.
But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.
But you might just be making that up.
Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.
You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.
Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.
You’re alone at the stone table.
Xavier sees that as an opportunity.
Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.
He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.
“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”
“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.
“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.
You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.
You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.
—-
There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.
It even makes you feel a little excited.
“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”
“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”
“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.
Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”
“Supportive,” you muse.
Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”
“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.
Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.
You look around the room.
Most of your siblings are wearing worse.
And you need to get your mind off her.
“I’m wearing that.”
Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.
You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.
—-
The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.
You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.
Everything is so funny in the firelight.
Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.
There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.
“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”
Your heels sink into the dirt.
“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.
You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.
“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.
“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.
“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”
Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”
“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”
You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.
“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.
And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.
Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.
“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”
She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.
“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”
She laughs, holding you up.
“Oh, you’re drunk.”
“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.
Her face falls.
It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.
“Y/N, I-”
You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.
“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.
They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.
You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.
“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.
You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.
You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.
You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.
“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.
“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”
“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”
He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.
His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.
He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.
You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.
When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.
She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.
Good.
You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.
His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.
When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.
His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.
He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.
“N-not here. Not yet.”
His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.
“Maybe later,” you whisper.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.
“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.
“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”
He’s ripped away from you.
You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.
You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.
Xavier only seems to find it funny.
“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”
She punches him again. Again.
“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”
One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.
“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”
She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.
“Clarisse-”
“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”
A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.
“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.
You see it fade from his eyes.
It shouldn’t be.
You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.
“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.
He holds his hands to his already red face.
“You’re a fucking witch.”
Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.
Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.
—-
She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.
She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.
“Do you need something?” you mutter.
“I was selfish,” she starts.
You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.
“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”
It wasn’t true.
“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”
You place your hand on the grass next to you.
She sits, you don’t look at each other.
“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”
You smile.
“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”
“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”
“Did you mean it?”
She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.
“Mean what?”
“That it wasn’t true.”
“It wasn’t true.”
You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.
“I-I was just angry, and I-”
You’re sick of hearing her talk.
It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.
Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.
The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.
You pull away.
“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.
It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.
When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.
You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.
You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.
—-
y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before
clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl
clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)
—-
y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!
clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!
—-
clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up
—-
clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE
literally everyone: YOUR girl????
clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him
everyone: not a logical solution???
—-
shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM
also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison
1K notes · View notes
angelshimaa · 4 months
Text
━━ [ 𝟒:𝟐𝟗 ] ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
Tumblr media
✧ cw :: fem!reader (bkg calls reader 'my girl' once), fluff, bkg calls you ‘babe’ once, hinted at that denki has a crush on you, you just wanna braid his hair
✧ a/n :: finally some fluff 🤭 i actually really liked writing this one !!
Tumblr media
“your hair is actually a curse.”
your words come out a little above a whisper, absent-minded as you play with his hair, his head resting in your lap. granted, the blond hair is softer than it looks, but its uneven spikes barely allowed for any diversity in hairstyles.
“like, what do you mean i can't braid it?” this isn't the first time this exasperated complaint is voiced and you hear bakugou snort, the corners of his lips tilting upwards in a half-grin.
“thank god, i’d look like shit with braids.” you try to envision them on him, but the fact that his face is upside down doesn’t help at all. what you do see is the light from the warm day peaking through the thin curtains to kiss his face, and you're reminded of how unnecessarily pretty your boyfriend is.
“who said you don't already look like shit?” you can't help it, and when he looks up at you, eyebrows raised as if you both know better, you grin and raise yours back— as if to suggest that maybe he doesn't.
“don’t think you'd be here if i did, babe.” his grin looks boyish and you can't understand why he prefers contorting his features into a grimace.
it's your turn to snort, fingers sectioning some of his choppy bangs off to as to fiddle around with them specifically. “maybe i’m into guys who look like shit, katsuki. ever think about that?”
“if you were, you would be in dunceface’s room right now, not mine.” it's too quick of a response to not have been thought of before, and you flick the top of his forehead. he's done it to you many times before, and you understand why— it was a little fun.
“kaminari is actually really nice, katsu, leave him be.”
bakugou rolls his eyes— of course you'd think he's nice. “he’s even better when he's not hitting on my girl— he should try that sometime.” you chuckle at his grumbling, eyebrows knitted together to frame his eyes. he's cute when he's harmlessly jealous.
“even if he was— i fear my heart is already taken.” you fake a look of sorrow. “a shame, really.”
katsuki's eyes gleam in daylight as he scoffs. “‘a shame’ my ass— you're so in love with me it makes you look stupid.”
he's right, the both of you know he is. neither of you would have it any other way.
“you say that as if you don't kiss the ground i walk on, katsu.” your smile is softer and it sends a pang to his heart.
“and you deserve every kiss.” it's a cheesy line, one a past him would likely cringe at, but he finds no shame in making his devotion to you well known.
you dip your head down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning. the heart eyes he gives you when you're that close has the butterflies resting in your stomach kick up. “that’s what i thought, katsuki. now... have you ever thought about straightening your hair?”
you laugh at the horror that crosses over his face, scowl settling in his face as if to tell you to not even think about it— it doesn't matter how badly you want to braid it.
katsuki's whipped. he knows from the way he thinks you laugh like a summer afternoon, warm and excited, but even he had his limits.
Tumblr media
✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
Tumblr media
taglist (fill in this form to join!) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuul @https-spacekay @k0z3me
2K notes · View notes
alien-magnolia · 1 year
Text
Surprise!
dom!Billy Loomis x subby!fem!reader 
My first Billy fic :) tw; this is more dark, don’t like, don’t read. If you like this post, pls help a writer out and reblog✨
Tw: degrading kink, praise kink, daddy kink, knife play, blood play, d/s dynamics, cnc, choking, impact play,  bondage, corruption kink, unprotected sex, dom!billy loomis/ghostface, innocent fem sub!reader
Fic description: Billy was always this really mysterious guy you knew. One night, he wanted to play, and you were his victim of choice. You didn’t expect that you’d be into it
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was a Friday night, and you were comfy on your white couch, laying down on your tummy with nothing but your little pink nightgown on. The rain was thundering upon the roof, a gloomy October night. You were eating some popcorn and watching a horror movie. You liked those, and sometimes you’d imagine those big scary slasher killers coming after you, having their way with you. Using you. Little did you know, that was about to happen. 
You hear the phone ring. You quickly jump up and tiptoe your way to the receiver, careful not to mess up the pretty pink nail polish you just put on your toes. You grab the receiver.
���Hello?,” you timidly draw out onto the phone. “Hi, sweetie,” a low voice answers back. It was Billy. You always felt so tingly and subby around him, and sometimes he’d give you rides home. He was a good guy, you thought. “Hi Billy!,” you shout, excited but confused to see him calling. “What are you up to, sweetie? Wearing anything nice?” You blush at the question. Sometimes you’d see his eyes shamelessly rake over you. You gulped, you might as well indulge. You did have a little bit of a crush on him, but sometimes your gut feeling would tell you that he seemed dangerous.
“Just my pink nightgown. Gee, Billy. It’s suddenly really cold here,” you say as you shiver, your manicured fingers dwindling with the phone cord. “Well maybe you shouldn’t have left that window open, sweetie. Who knows what could happen…” you hear his voice, although it isn’t on the phone anymore. It is behind you. The phone drops from your hand as you feel a pair of strong arms grab you from behind, one hand on your neck, the other firmly splayed out over your hips. 
You take a look in the mirror. Billy is standing behind you. He’s got some blood on his face, and in one of his hands, a knife. He’s standing there smiling at you. “Surprise.” He lets out a low chuckle, a predatory grin over his face. “Weren’t expecting me tonight, were you sweetheart?,” he asks, his lips trailing over the tips of your ear, you feel his hot breath on your face. You feel the metallic blade of his knife trail over your thighs. 
“N-no, Billy. What are you doing? Will you let me go?,” you timidly ask him. He might hurt you with that knife, but you were just incredibly turned on. “I don’t think so, sweetie,” he replies, and then flips you around, so you’re facing him. He quickly grabs two of your wrists, and ties them together, firmly in place with some duct tape. He strokes your hair a bit, trailing down your neck with a few light kisses. 
You were almost moaning at this point. 
“Billy…what are you doing?? Let me go,” you plead, on one hand, you wanted to be free, but on the other hand, this just made you melt. “Here’s what’s going to happen, bunny. I came here tonight, just for you…”, he coos at you, his deep brown eyes gazing into yours. He’s got you caged against the wall now with his bulging biceps. You couldn’t escape, even if you wanted to! And he was just so strong!!! He continues. “I’m going to play with you. Just a few things. Wanted you so, so, bad, princess. And now —- I’m going to get what I want. Gonna see how much of a little slut you are, underneath that innocent little act you pull. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. You understand?,” he asks, while he runs a blade over your cheek.
God— you loved how he talked to you. How he talked down to you. You felt so subby already. You nod, looking up at him, eyes wide. You nod. “Good job, such an obedient girl for me. You’re gonna call me daddy, from now on, okay sweetie?” You nod again. “Yes, daddy.” With that, he puts some duct tape over your mouth, and grabs you by your taped wrists. He leads you up the stairs with his strong hands, you feel the knife and his hard on behind you. 
He takes you to your bedroom. “All pink, white frilly sheets, even some teddy bears on your bed I see…,” he lets out a low chuckle. “Such a pretty little thing you are for me, princess. Too bad that I’m about to corrupt that dumb little head of yours,” he coos at you, turning you around to trail your face with kisses. You felt so squirmy already, so wet for him. He drove you insane! You were so scared of him…but he turned you on so much that you just submitted to him, so naturally.
You start to let out a few little moans, muffled by the duct tape, of course. Suddenly, he rips it off you, and slams you against a wall. You see the blood on his face, and he pushes his lips into yours, so big, so rough! You loved it! “Sir…please…can’t…can’t take it…,” you plead with him, but you really didn’t know what you were pleading for. Maybe for him to fuck you. “What’s the matter? Too much for my bunny already?,” he chuckles, and comes in close. He has that insane look on his face, this predatory smile, you felt so powerless. “I’m just getting started, honey,” he patronizes you. “Too stupid to understand, I guess…” he sighs to himself, and then brings one of his hands up to your throat. He leads you to the bed by your throat, and then pushes you onto it, face down. You feel him adjust your taped hands behind you, and his calloused hands grope at your tits eagerly. “Gonna show you how I play, sweetie…you’re just gonna be a good slut, and lay there for me and take it, okay?” You were confused on what he meant, till you felt your nightgown being hiked up. “No panties even? You are a slut, huh? So good for me,” he moans out, and you start to feel his hand come down to spank you a few times. It was painful, and it burned, but you loved it. He turned you around, his shirt was off, he was naked right in front of you. His cock was already out, you were just aching to put it in your mouth. 
He pulls you up, shoving his cock closer to your face. “Open for me.” You do as said, it was just heaven to feel his throbbing cock inside your mouth, you looked up at him as you suckled on his tip, and he stroked your hair just a bit. He still had that knife, and then traced the blade over your face, not cutting you, but you just felt it. He pulls out of you. “Good girl, you got it wet for me. Now you’re gonna take my cock, gonna stretch that tight little cunt out, nice and wide.” He pushes you down onto the bed again, you feel his big chest over yours, you feel him pushing into you. You felt scared before, but now you just felt nothing but need. “Want it in, want it to fill me, daddy please, need to be full so bad,” you begging him again. “Can’t resist that little smile you got, princess. Gotta be patient, daddy's going to give you as he sees fit,”  he patronizes you. 
You feel him slam into you, his tip reaching your gummy walls, filling you up so sweetly that you just couldn’t even breathe. You felt him choke you lightly, and then start rocking you slowly but roughly on his thick length. “Please, wanna cum…please…” you feel his breath on your neck, he leaned in close, his lips trailing over your cheek. “Then come, sweet girl. Give me a big squeeze…there you go,” he coos at you. You felt so subby, so stupid, but you loved it when you were with him. You feel him spill into you, you loved how warm it felt :) 
“Did good for me, sweetie. Should be grateful that I came to play with you, little thing.” He pulls out, unties you and leaves through the same window he came in from. 
7K notes · View notes
priniya · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
🔮 OPPOSITES ATTRACT
synopsis. a quiet slytherin and a loud gryffindor find themselves on a chilly evening, which results in something unexpected — at least for people around them. the oldest weasley’s daughter finds herself infatuated with nott’s only child and vice versa, even if their worlds seem so different, being apart just doesn’t feel right.
notes. theodore nott x weasley!reader. slightly sunshine x grumpy (pretend you’re a ginger if ur not). part 2 containing the date, thoughts?
Tumblr media
theodore nott never thought he would be given a chance to love and be loved, upon all the terrible mistakes he has made. and maybe it seemed silly for a sixteen years old to say, but with an upcoming war, he wasn’t so sure if he could live through it.
theodore nott never thought he would have someone to call his own, someone to help him, when times get tough or someone who would understand him wordlessly. to be fair, theodore nott never thought he deserved anything like that, so the surprise on his face, when he found someone who was involuntarily willing to be his person was enormous.
he was walking around the crowded streets of the city, the dim lighting allowing him to see muggles running around with different expression on every other face he has passed — some of them were happy, cheering the slowly creeping holiday on them, some of them were exhausted and/or angry, probably from trying to find a perfect gift for someone and failing. just watching them gave him some sort of comfort, he had never had to look for gifts too much, his father wasn’t keen on being all festive and christmas was just any other day. the exception itself was looking for presents for his friends, which never had troubled him so much he looked exhausted.
he was in his thoughts, when he felt like he collided with someone. his eyebrows were squinted as he looked down on the red-haired girl, whose face was all red, either from cold or embarrassment. though, there was something so familiar about the girl that made him study her face for a brief second, the tea stain on his unzipped jacket didn’t seem to bother him at all, not as much as the familiarity of the girl.
“oh my god, i am so sorry, sir.” she let out ashamed that she didn’t look where she was going and that she probably ruined someone’s evening with her no sugar, lemon tea. it was then, when the familiar girl finally gave up and looked at the person she rudely bumped into.
“nott?” her words weren’t coated with layers of disgust and regret that out of all the people in london that night, she bumped into theodore nott. her words had surprised and confused undertones, almost as if she didn’t mind seeing him there. now, he obviously recognized his attacker — y/n weasley, a girl he sits behind in history of magic, a twin sister of potter’s best friend, someone who should hate him with burning passion.
“are you alright?” redhead’s question took him off guard.
theo was expecting something else, like a mockery of the fact that he was walking amongst muggles without hexing them all. though to be honest, theodore never hated muggles, well, yeah, he said some stupid shit, when he was younger and he was far from proud, but it was the need to appease his father. he definitely didn’t expect to see the worried manner in her, her brows scrunched as she tried to read his emotions, while standing in front of him in silence.
“theo…?” repeated y/n. he wasn’t alright and he didn’t know if he should show it. for merlin’s sake, he really wanted to get so much things out of his system, but venting to a weasley? he knew better than that — she would probably go around, and spread out the word about everything she heard from him.
nott was about to mumble something in response, when her eyes flickered with concern, demolishing all his justification why shouldn’t he talk to her for longer than needed. she was genuine, not caring that ron and harry weren’t on a good terms with him, she wanted to know, and help if possible.
so, theo simply gave up the act. “uh, no. not really.” he confessed, confirming all the suspicions she got to gather from observing him for a few minutes, when he thought of an answer. her expression changed from concerned to slightly sad, even.
before the boy could realize, he was sat in one of the small coffee shops beside her, a half empty, steamy cup of hot chocolate in his hands as they talked. something was so incredibly off about the way they conversed, first time in a while, he never wanted to conversation to end, just like when he was talking to his friends. his body itched at the thought that soon both of them would have to come to their respective houses and the talk would be just a memory that never happened again.
he had to admit that y/n’s presence was soothing. it was like the smell of a freshly printed new book, a cigarette on a foggy morning, a sensation of someone’s nails gently scratching the inside of his palm. the last one was a habit his mom developed to calm him down before she died, leaving him with an aching need for someone to find out about his perk and do it when he needs.
her muffled laughter filled his ears as he watched the girl cover her lips with a palm, he couldn’t help but smile. the gloomy atmosphere that he brought with his tiny vent was long gone, since she declared it her mission to make him feel better. so, since he wasn’t a big talker himself, she let him listen to all the stories from when she was growing up. even though he never experienced a family like hers, a family that cared for each other, it was comforting.
his eyes darted to the clock hung up on a wall, followed by hers and a long sigh that left his lips. his fingers ran through his curls as he parted his lips to bid goodbyes, though y/n was faster. “we could meet up here some other time, if you want.” she gave him a shy smile, the one he never thought he would see on her face.
y/n weasley wasn’t the shy type of girl, she was a big talker, a smart-ass with witty comebacks and a obnoxiously loud aura coating her small frame, though right now, upon his gaze that wandered around her face for quite some time now, she grew shyer.
“uh.” stuttered theo. “yeah, i guess it’s a good idea.” his reply made her smile go bigger, and in the back of his head, it felt like a reward for the decision he just made, some kind of reassurance that he did something good.
“perfect.” she grinned, taking the two of their cups and taking them to the shop’s kitchen, revealing that either she works there, or she’s just insanely crazy for barging into someone’s workplace as an unwanted stranger. “there’s a fireplace in the back.” weasley added, taking his hand in hers before he could even refuse (he wouldn’t though).
the tips of her long nails gently grazed his palm, when she led him the back, greeting a few of her coworkers. her touch on his skin ached, almost burnt, although if that’s what the insides of a normal, fireplace without floo powder felt like, he could grow to like it, only if a part of her body was pressed against his. few minutes later theo’s hand felt empty as he watched her disappear in green flames, having bid their goodbyes.
***
theo hated that feeling. this warm, strange feeling that coated his heart whenever he thought about the obnoxious gryffindor, who he met at those muggle streets. nevertheless, he found himself unable to think about someone else. he was replying to a letter pansy has sent him, and the only thing he had on his mind was y/n, he wondered if ginny told her about her little getaways with theo’s best friend, if all her brothers got back to their house, and — if she thought about him.
his hands throbbed. his fingers wrapped tightly around the quill, before putting it down on his deck. why on earth would he text her? it was one accidental meeting at some crowded street, one conversation that shouldn’t mean anything to them.
nott squeezed his eyes, the muscles on his face tensed as he focused on the paper in front of him, scribbling down a few words in his neat handwriting. a long sigh has left his lips, his eyes tracing the sentence he wrote for her. shit, why would he even do that? if any of his friends knew, he’d have been doomed — one weasley hanging around their friend group was enough, but he didn’t want to push draco nor blaise’s limits.
on a christmas’ eve, he went out for another walk, slightly hoping in the back of his mind that he’d accidentally bump into her again. this time, theodore would make sure to hear her laugh more often, to see her teeth, when she smiles or to watch as she gets shyer upon his gaze on her face.
his feet got him into a familiar looking café, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion — he couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew the place — and looked around. then, he heard it.
“theo!” a female voice rang in his ears. the boy turned his face, a smile slipping onto his lips as he realized where he was. the god damned café y/n was working at. “what can i get you?” a grin spread across her face, visibly delighted to see him there, almost as if she hoped for it.
her forearms laid on the counter as her body leaned a little closer, her hair pinned up in a ponytail that probably got ruined during her shift from running around the place, having a chat with each customer every now and then, a pinkish tint on her cheeks, maybe from the heat in the back or maybe, because he was there.
it took him a second to realize that he was staring with his mouth slightly parted. “uh—” he stuttered, getting a small, barely audiable giggle in response. “i just came to see you.” he blurted out. thank god his ears were covered by the beanie, because just by saying those six words got him all flustered.
“theo.” his name sounded so well coming from her. theodore wanted to hear it again, again, and again. it was melodic, like most beautiful song he’s ever heared. how could he get so whipped after one hangout?
“i hoped you’d come by.” she confessed shyly. “i have something for you in the back, could you give me five minutes? i gotta tell the manager i’m taking a break.” she beamed at him sweetly, rushing off to the back, taking off the green apron that hung on her waist in the meantime.
when she came back, she was still wearing the café’s shirt with a small, green logo, black jeans, and was carefully walking towards his table with a neatly wrapped package and on a top of that a plate with a big piece of some sort of chocolate cake, two drinks (the same as last time), and a cookie. her hair wasn’t in a ponytail anymore, ginger strands falling into her shoulders as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.
“you– you got me something?” a question left theo’s mouth, leaving him all surprised — the strange feeling warming him up from the inside. he took a big sip of the hot chocolate in front of him, hardly minding that he burnt his tongue, he didn’t want to say anything stupid. “y/n, we talked once and you… got me something?” he asked once again, not believing his own eyes.
the girl just smiled wider, passing the box towards him. “uh. yeah.” she answered, shrugging. “last time, you said that you never really celebrated christmas the right way, so… please open it.” she tried explaing herself, but gave up at the end, pushing the box further with her fingertips. “please?”
shit.
if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t give him those eyes and that smile. maybe he would be able to refuse, think of some lame excuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings and give her the box back. but y/n was so sweet, and thought of him hard enough to prepare him a gift.
for half a second, theodore could see something flicker in her eyes, when his lean fingers gently pulled the green ribbon, ripping the gift paper afterwards. the gift turned out to be a sweater, a hand-made one that made the feeling come back to him.
the sweater was dark green, in the similar shade of his tie or the snake symbol on his robes, it had a large, dark blue letter T with a silver outline. his eyes scanned the piece of clothing, the corner of his lips going slightly upwards. “you got me your mom’s iconic sweater?” asked theo.
his mind was filled with different thoughts and emotions right now. he could never call y/n weasley a sweet girl, not because it wasn’t true, but because it would be an understatement — she was the sweetest, or at least somewhere in that range. his cheeks almost hurt from smiling at her, and never in his life nott had felt it.
“actually…” her cheeks started getting a little more pinkish than usual. “it’s based on my mom’s sweaters, i did it on my own. it might not be perfect—" y/n started rambling in nervousness, afraid that the boy won’t be happy about getting a meaningless piece of fabric from her.
“y/n, i love it.” theodore’s words were like honey to y/n’s ears, she gave him a small smile, not really expecting him to gently grab her hand out of sudden. the reason behind it? even theo didn’t know (probably to ease her nerves).
when he realized what he did, he wanted to take his hand back and mutter a quiet apology, the crime scene awkward as much as only possible. although, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the pink on her face intensified, few more minutes of skin-to-skin contact, and she would turn into a tomato, so his hand stayed on hers, taking the chance and intertwining their fingers together.
“would you– uh,” the redhead started, stumbling over her own words, easily losing focus, each time his thumb stroked her hand, a tiny smirk hovering over his lips. “like to, uh, come here once in a while, you know… until the break’s over? keep me company, maybe?”
and he did. how couldn’t he? this girl was constantly on his mind ever since she bumped into him on the streets and spent literal hours at the café.
although, beside just keeping her company during the winter break — but also at school. he grew so fond of her (and believe me, it worked both ways) that cutting their fresh friendship short was something he couldn’t let happen. so… even though her younger sister was already swaying her way into theodore’s friend group, y/n seemed like a different topic.
theodore nott liked sharing. as unbelievable as it sounds, he really did. whenever he had something he enjoyed, he was willing to share, he was the type of person to give away his last cigarette to one of his friends, but the thought of sharing y/n weasley never crossed his mind. he wanted her all to himself, so… their hangouts always contained just the two of them.
small study dates in the library, late night walks around the courtyard, meet-ups in the room of requirement, picnics in the astronomy tower, while smoking some pot and cigarettes together.
back then, it felt strictly platonic. even if they called it their little dates, nott had a feeling they weren’t moving past the friendship line, while his emotions towards the girl were getting more and more serious. nevertheless, theodore was confident, but not confident enough to ask her out — to confess his silly crush without the fear creeping up on him that y/n would reject him and turn his dreams into nightmares.
***
the weather outside was getting better with each day until spending time inside the castle was unbearable. it was around the time, theo decided to finally push his luck and ask the girl of his dream out. ever since he woke up, he was nervously fidgeting with everything that got to his hands and when then classes were to start, it only got worse.
“you alright, theo?” a whisper left y/n’s mouth as she stood next to him in potions, her elbow nudging him lightly, trying to catch his attention.
merlin. the way his name sounded so wonderful on her tongue. if it wasn’t for the small attention-grabber, he would definitely accidentally ignore the question to daydream about how sweetly her voice is.
“no, i mean– yes, yes i am.” he stuttered. “i just– can i ask you a question?” she nodded, making his stomach turn around. “would you, uh– like to go out to hogsmeade with me? like on a date?” the question left his lips.
his throat went dry as he waited years for an answer (which was actually just about two seconds, theo’s brain just got really dramatic from stress), legs giving up, so he had to lean his palms on the table.
“f’course.” weasley grinned, not minding the blush that spread all over her face, just from the ask. “i thought you’d never ask, really.” she giggled, turning her eyes away for a second, before flashing him another beam of hers.
nott’s face was now bright pink. “i– what?” he was struggling to form a logical sentence. “you wanted me to–?” the boy was supposed to finish his thought, though it didn’t really sit well with snape who interrupted their little talk, postponing it until the evening.
the two of them were walking somewhere outside, laughing about something so insignificant, when the situation from classes popped into his mind. “so… about that date. you really want to?” asked nott.
he expected any kind of answer — yes, no, maybe, you should guess, nah — whatever was only possible. however, the feeling of her lips on his wouldn’t cross his mind. she kissed him. y/n has kissed him, leaving him breathless, when she pulled away.
“does that answer your question?” redhead chuckled, her fingers still curled up against the collar of his white shirt. he shook his head, still mind-blown. “yes, theodore faustus nott, i was dying to hear you ask me out on a date. whatever we have between us, i wanted it to move forward and go on a date with you.”
she laughed. “you really think i’d spend hours crotcheting a sweater for a guy i met few days earlier if i didn’t feel something? theo, i almost passed out when you touched my hand months ago.” another laugh left her lips that were now so close to his, clouding his mind with one certain thing.
upon hearing all those words, the boy couldn’t stop himself anymore, he pressed his mouth against hers, savouring the moment. cherishing the fact that she wanted him like he wanted her.
“the date is still a thing, yeah?” y/n smiled as her nose brushed his.
“you’re gonna love it.” he answered, grinning.
2K notes · View notes
judithhhh · 3 months
Note
an angsty one w judeee! like they're having a bad fight over smnth and they go to bed in seperate rooms still upset. reader comes out in the middle of the night for like idk a glass of water or something and sees a bouqet of flowers on the kitchen counter that Jude must have went out and got after their fight. with them is a little note like an apology or something and its so sweet and they make up ! :)
love note (one-shot)
jude x reader
summary: read the request!
thx for your request, hope u like this :)
Tumblr media
fighting with jude was the last thing you had planned to do in the only week he was available to come see you. but there you were, going to sleep in another room and actively ignoring the man instead of enjoying the few moments that were given to you to spend with your boyfriend. you hated the rare but still real screaming matches you had with him. the reason was always something stupid and you two’s bad temper only made things worse. this time, he was the one who started it, mad that you had still not decided if you wanted to join him in madrid or stay in england. at first you had tried to calmly explain to jude that you had your own life here and that leaving everything behind was not a easy thing but your calm tone was replaced by harsh screamed words when he just would not understand your point. you said things you regretted, mentioning issues that you knew hurted him, but in the end you knew that you were right. jude couldn't deal with the fact that your entire life was not dedicated to him and he had to get over it.
trying your best to silence your sobs, you took your favorite blanket and pillow from your bedroom and went to install yourself in the guest room at the end of the hallway. you knew your boyfriend was downstairs, probably still fuming, and it allowed you to do your night routine without bumping into him. you were snuggled into the unfamiliar bed listening to your comfort show when you heard the front door slamming shut and you could not help the unhealthy thoughts that filled your mind. you trusted jude with all your heart but you worried that maybe he went to seek comfort from another girl. a girl that could give him her everything unlike you. you shook your head, still determined to stand your ground on your opinion, and decided to go to sleep. it took time for your mind to shut up and let you fall asleep but when it did jude had still not come back to your house.
you always had problems sleeping an entire night without waking up so it did not surprise you when your eyes shut open at four in the morning. usually, you would have taken advantage of jude being here and you would have snuggled into the man but obviously the current circumstances did not allow you to do so. you sighed and stretched your limbs before going downstairs to drink a glass of water. passing by your bedroom, you saw that the previously open door had been shut close signaling that jude was back. it gave your mind a bit of reassurance but you stayed upset. you did not open the lights and preferred to shuffle around in the dark for a glass. the view of your kitchen, plunged into darkness except from the moonray escaping from the slightly open blinds, gave you some comfort and you sat down on your couch slowly sipping your water. you were looking into the empty space in front of you when a moonray illuminated an object in your kitchen that was not usually there. opening the light in the room, you saw the flowers placed on the kitchen counter. you sighed realizing that jude still thought he could win you over with simple gifts like this. you still took the effort to fill up a vase and went to pick up the flowers to put them in it. when doing so, a small pink note you had not noticed before fell to the ground. you picked it up and read the words written on it.
‘’i love you more than anything, no matter where you are, no matter if you're close or far away from me. you're always in my heart and that's the only thing that counts. sorry for being such an asshole baby, i regret everything i said today. whether you choose to stay in england or go to madrid is your choice, and i respect it.
ps. i know you're probably gonna read this in the middle of the night, wake me up when you do.’’
at the end of the note, jude had drawn two wonky stickmans with a heart at the top, his attempt of drawing the two of you making you laugh. the sweet words brought tears to your eyes, you were quite a sensible person, but the last sentence made you chuckle. he really knew you more than anyone. you debated going to wake him up now or giving yourself the night to think about it but the idea of going back to an empty bed seemed way too depressive. you quietly made your way back upstairs and stopped infront of your bedroom door. you were apprehensive, a bit scared that this conversation would lead to another fight, but you opened it anyways. the sight of jude hugging a pillow made you smile, you knew he had missed your presence just as much as you missed his. you went and sat on the bed next to him and softly stroked the nape of his neck, knowing it was something that he enjoyed so much it would probably wake him up. jude seemed to wake up from his slumber as a few sighs escaped him. his eyes opened and you read the hint of stress in them as he saw sitting next to him.
‘’ you okay love?’’ he asked voice still raspy, just like you loved it
‘’mmh, i saw what you wrote’’
your answer woke him up entirely and he sat up to face you. his hand reached to fix your slightly messy hair before he dropped it back down, not sure if you wanted him to touch you right now. the two of you looked at each other without uttering a word for a few minutes until you decided to take the first step.
‘’i’m sorry for some of the things i said too, jude. didn't mean it really, i was just mad because of… well you know.’’
‘’you were mad for a reason, i was being unreasonable.’’
he sighed before continuing
‘’i miss you when you're not with me but i really do mean it, whether you stay here or come with me it's your choice and i love you.’’
‘’baby, i wanna come with you so bad. i just need time to organize everything here, you know. but i swear that when i’ll be ready, i’ll take the first flight to madrid and i'll join you there.’’
‘’you will, really?!’’ your boyfriend exclaimed, eyes light up
‘’yes jude, but that doesn't mean i'm going to be settled in madrid next week. it might take time’’
‘’i don't care my love, you just made me the happiest man by telling me you’re gonna join me’’
jude was smiling hard, his mind already thinking about the joy of having you close to him at all times. finding him absolutely adorable, you threw yourself on him and tucked your head into his neck. the boy laid back into bed with you in his arms.
‘’you don't ever talk to me like that again though’’ you whispered to your boyfriend
‘’never again baby i know’’
‘’and you don't go to sleep without wishing me a good night ever again’’
‘’you're the one who went to sleep in the other room’’
you side-eyed jude and he sighed telling you that he was only joking. laying in his arms, you felt tired yet again and was ready to go back to sleep. you lifted up your head to talk to your boyfriend but frowned seeing him already fast asleep. you lightly slapped his cheek and he woke up, surprised.
‘’i said to not go to sleep without wishing me goodnight jude bellingham!’’
‘’yeah, yeah good night baby love you” he said tiredly, falling back asleep immediately after
you sighed at his nonchalant behavior but was struck by a wave of fatigue and you too was back asleep in jude’s arms.
754 notes · View notes
neopuppy · 7 months
Note
Bestfriend Jeno who invades readers privacy and goes through her computer filled with videos of ykyk💀
warnings. errrhhmmm🤔 masturbation, yeah..
Tumblr media
“Damn, he really did a number on your phone.” Jeno’s fingers drag down the shatter of cracks distorting your screen, neck ticking to the side. “I can definitely fix it though.”
“You can?”
“Yeah, I worked at one of those phone repair kiosks a couple summers ago, these screens cost a fortune to get fixed you know? I have a lot of leftover supplies, can probably find something in my stash that will fit.” He informs, patting your shoulder. “Means you’ll have to be disconnected all day though, is that okay?”
“I guess, have some lectures to get through and a group project to finish so I’ll be at the library most of the day if anything.”
“Alright, write down your passcode and maybe your apple log in just in case.” Jeno nods to a notebook, grabbing a pen to hand you.
“Why the log in?” You hesitate, eyeing your phone nervously.
Jeno shrugs, holding your phone out to you. “I only want to help, I know you’re kind of down on your luck right now. I understand if you want to be around when I fix it but today’s one of my only free days for the rest of the week, so..”
“No no, it’s fine.” You sigh, pushing the phone back toward him. “I might be back late, don’t know how long this meeting with my group will take. If you could leave my phone on DND? I’ll probably still be texting from my laptop.”
“Yeah, not a problem.” Jeno nods to his notebook, smiling as you scribble down your passcode and password. “I’ll get this all fixed up for you, free of charge.”
“I’ll have to repay you somehow..”
“What are friends for?” He laughs, motioning to the living room area scattered with your belongings. “Shit happens..”
“Thanks Jeno, everything you guys have done for me..” trailing off, you murmur shyly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you and Jaemin for helping me out like this.”
“Don’t worry about it, focus on school.”
After bidding you goodbye and good luck with your project, Jeno moves to his bedroom, whistling to himself as he traces down the largest crack on your phone screen. “Gosh, what a dick..”
He didn’t ask what the fight was about, the timing didn’t feel right with you sniffling as he and Jaemin helped you carry your belongings in. He never liked your boyfriend much anyway, or well, ex-boyfriend..
Jeno boiled it down to jealousy at times, whenever he’d have to witness the unfortunate public displays of affection between the two of you. It’s not that he likes you, not necessarily.. but your friendship hadn’t exactly stemmed from genuine interest in forming a platonic relationship. It just so happened that while he had one idea, your mind had already honed in and focused on another.
“Eh, I always knew he wasn’t right for you.” Jeno mumbles to himself, tapping your phone screen to the image of your now ex-boyfriend’s lips squished against your cheek. “Gross.”
Jeno gets to it, unwrapping a new razor to begin removing the old screen topper first and see the real damage. Lucky for you, he’d gifted you a durable screen protector when you’d gotten a new phone. Great for dropping, not so much for a crazy boyfriend hurling it at a wall though.
He’s pleased to see the damage is a lot more minor under the protector, mentally patting himself on the back for handling that for you in the first place. A text pops up lighting the bare screen. “Oh right, do not disturb.”
Jeno taps in the passcode, swiping down to turn off notifications only to come to a pause as another text comes in.
‘It’s easy money, I did it my first year of college to cover rent, and you're shit out of luck at this point if you think a dorm will open up this far into the semester.’
He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s no way you’d find out anyway..
‘Isn’t that prostitution?’
The last text sent from you has his eyes going wide, quickly reading through the chat between you and the name he recognizes as your best friends, the same one whose car Jaemin had found you using as a makeshift home..
‘It’s not illegal in our state, and it’s anonymous. You won’t get caught or anything. Trust me, I worked there for 11 months, best money I’ve ever made.’
Jeno mumbles a ‘what the fuck.’ To himself, opening his phone to copy down the address she sends in next.
‘Besides, what difference does it make? You were getting fucked by your asshole ex on stream for way less.’
“What?!” Jeno looks around in shock, covering his mouth in case someone else is home. An arsenal of unanswered questions race through his mind, swiping to put your phone on ‘do not disturb’ finally as he takes a deep breath to calm down.
“There’s no way..” he chuckles, licking his lips nervously as he taps open your photos and scrolls until a locked album named ‘delete’ catches his eye.
Jeno spent a year learning different ways to break into stolen phones with not even a passcode to assist, the thrill of unknown has his thumb punching away before he can even talk himself out of it. Not that he would..
Why wouldn’t you immediately delete photos or videos you wouldn’t want anyone to see anyway? You can’t be that stupid..
“Oh shit.”
You are that stupid.
Jeno groans, leaning back in his computer chair as he slowly scrolls through the album of over 1000 photos and videos, most consisting of topless shots. More scandalous as he reaches the middle and sucks in a deep breath reading the time on the first video he sees.
Eight minutes and twenty seven seconds..
Patting around for his headphones, he plugs them in and opens the video up to hit play, sinking deeper into his seat as your face appears half-fucked out with dreamy eyes and saliva wet lips.
The deeper familiar voice he recognizes as your ex’s comes through, making his stomach tighten. “Fuck.”
‘How can you ask me for more after I just fucked you full?’
‘Please daddy, n-need more.’
The camera runs down your bare body, laid back against dark sheets with your thighs hoisted up and open; panning down to where white streaks of cum paint your stomach and mound. ‘Feel that? My dicks still so hard.’
‘Keep fucking me, don’t stop fucking me. Fuck that cum deep inside of me.’
Jeno pants, short of breath as he digs the heel of his palm against his groin and groans. Fuck fuck fuck… he knew it. The past few years of having to pretend he valued your friendship more than his desire to fuck you, he always knew you were nothing but a pathetic sobbing whore. The sound of your sobs and aroused whines vibrating through his ears has him ready to make a mess, smoothing in past the waistband of his sweats to free his length, he’s thankful for the point of view shot; making it easy to tune out the masculine grunts passing between your pretty cries.
‘Fuck. I’ll breed you better than that.’ Jeno voices to himself, surprised your lazy ex didn’t make you get on top. The amount of cum covering your lower half has his hips jumping from the chair, eager to fuck into his fist faster.
One thought continues to pass through his mind as he grips around his cock and strokes to match the pace pushing you up and down along the screen.
He needs to fuck you.
1K notes · View notes
jaysgirlx · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.
Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.
Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.
Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.
Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.
Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.
Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.
Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…
Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.
Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.
Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"
Tumblr media
924 notes · View notes
jymwahuwu · 7 months
Text
When I was picking up starfish for Neuvillette, I was illuminated by a light outside the Fortress of Meropide and automatically taken back to prison💀💔 So I'm thinking about the story of the reader trying to escape by diving and being caught by Wriothesley🥴
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
CW: yandere, abuse of power, non-con, escape failed, non-consensual spanking
Just today. You can escape, now or never.
You've bribed one of the guards, using all the credit coupons you earned from working in the cafeteria. He quietly brings you a set of diving equipment from outside and briefly teaches you how to use it. He's on duty today. On this day, this day only, you can take advantage of the laxity and loopholes in the guards to escape. For the past few days, you had been submissive and radiant in front of Wriothesley, warming his cock for hours. He promised to give you a day off. You can walk around the Fortress of Meropide and chat with people, or you can just sleep and read, write, munch delicious breads and desserts. It's up to you.
And you use it to escape from prison.
You were sent to the Fortress of Meropide for some ridiculous crime… or maybe even something you didn't do at all. It only took three days from the accusation to the conviction. The members of gardes somehow searched your home for "evidence of guilt". The testimonies of the witnesses all subtly accused you, as if a strange net fell from the firmament. You tried to argue and analyze the irrationality of these logics, but tears and logic… were all useless. This ordinary trial, devoid of drama, ended quickly. They escort you to an underwater prison, where you are exiled in full view of the public.
"Mmm, raise your head and let me see you."
Your eyes widened, recognizing him, a customer you met when you worked part-time in the teahouse. He helped you deal with a customer who was harassing you. Dressed in work clothes, you introduced him to new refreshments, giggling at his witty remarks. He always comes on the same afternoon, orders tea and dessert, and sits quietly, waiting to talk to you.
Once, he asked you whether the sun was so bright outside the water, and whether the people at the top of the water were the same as you. You were confused by his question at that moment.
A confession changes something. Such a peaceful life continued until one day, he hinted whether he would be lucky enough to go on a date with you, but… you had not thought about establishing any romantic relationship with the guest. Unexpectedly, the customer just nodded, kissed the back of your hand and left.
(Underwater. Inexplicable charges and sentences.) The mind is buzzing, and those clues and emotions are flooding into you. You have some understanding of what's going on-
"…It's you. It's you who is framing me…"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He smiled - with confidence and teasing. "But falsely accusing me will only make your crime worse."
You bit your lip, shaking, tears falling.
Your cell is somehow quite close to Wriothesley's office. He summons you to his office at any time, puts you on his lap, or presses on you at night. You want to resist. Once, you yelled at him in the cafeteria. Wriothesley just held your waist with one hand, took off your underwear, and slapped your exposed and swollen butt. Other prisoners were frightened.
You arrived at the appointed location, and the guard nodded to you. You prepare to put on your diving gear, but your thoughts spread like tree roots - When will Wriothesley realize you're missing? What will he do? Where can you go...Mondstadt? Sumeru is closer, but there are Matras there. They may be working with Fontaine...Wriothesley...He...
However, these are not worth mentioning in the face of freedom. You can't hide your current smile, the joy of freedom dances on the tip of your tongue, urging you to take steps forward. Beautiful sunshine. Market. The sound of people talking. The steam from the machine when brewing tea. Detective novels and newspapers. You will be able to have these again, even if you can't appear openly anymore, but it doesn't matter, anything is better than an underwater prison and a large factory.
Anywhere is better than here…
The moment you were about to dive-
a pair of arms grabbed you.
You started screaming almost immediately, broke into a cold sweat from fear, and struggled like a fish out of water without even looking at who the person behind you was. You just want to dive into the sea, but those arms are unexpectedly strong - just like when he pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips countless times. No room for rejection.
"Hey-hey, calm down, okay? Stop." He takes off your diving equipment. What Wriothesley said was like you were losing your temper, not that he was using a trick to force you to stay with him. You turned around and met his gray pupils, crying. The man still smiled and patted your head, "there there…" But as soon as he finished speaking, you found that the guard you bribed was being subdued and pinned to the ground.
"Take him away. Inform Neuvillette." He said coldly.
The guards received the order, saluted, and then forcibly escorted him away.
"…W-when did you know?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing you to sniffle and whimper. You just want to ask this, to know how much you've been predicted. Does he laugh inside when he sees you being so well-behaved…? Wriothesley paused for a moment, as if he was considering how to reply, not wanting to hurt your pride. "…Is it important?"
"I want to know."
"I told you, I know everything that's going on here, the difference is whether I want to take action or not." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'll use the belt later, by the way."
1K notes · View notes
cloakedsparrow · 3 months
Text
One of those 'Tim joins the bat family early because the Drakes are neglectful' AUs, only after the bats take him in and he's starting to figure out that this family is different, Bruce makes an offhand comment about dinner time and Tim's like "together?" His tone is cautiously hopeful but his eyes just light up at the thought of regular family dinners, something he's always wanted. Bruce, who is normally terrible about either waiting until after dinner to go out for patrol or coming back for dinner, decides on the spot that nothing will keep him from family dinner outside of a Rogue breakout or Justice League level event.
Alfred notices this and decides he's absolutely going to weaponize this kid to make his insane family take care of themselves better.
After dinner one day, when Batman and Robin were planning to head back out, Alfred casually mentions that maybe -if he has the time- Jason could go over Tim's book report with him, since the boy is worried about his English grade. The boy takes the bait. Of course he does. It's literature and his new little brother; the two things Jason loves even more than being Robin. He stays in to help Tim.
With some subtle grandfatherly nudging, this then becomes a thing. Jason will go out with Bruce for two or three hours, depending on the time of year, come back for dinner with him at eight, and -if it's been a slow night- stay in. He loves being Robin, of course, but he also loves his new family and his schooling, so Jason's perfectly happy to do homework and read or play with Tim until bedtime (unless Bruce needs backup or it's Summer vacation).
Tim is sick and Alfred mentions something about taking it easy and that he, or maybe the boy's father, will come check on him before bed. Before Bruce can even mention that he was going to be on an extended stakeout, Tim catches something in his expression and starts explaining that it's okay. He understands that Bruce is busy and he's not a baby. He doesn't need to be tucked in or anything.
Bruce decides on the spot that he will not be like Jack or Willis, who were gone all the time. He comes back at ten to check on Tim and make sure that Jason goes to bed. He then continues to come back sometime between ten and eleven to put the boys to bed. If it's been slow, he'll even stay in.
With all the extra energy he has now that he's sleeping better, Jason decides to join the school drama club. He revels in it. Alfred mentions his upcoming play to Tim (in front of Bruce), who wants to know if it would be weird if he brought jay flowers because that's a thing at plays, right? Bruce not only puts off Batman to make it to Jason's play, but he leaves early enough to stop at a flower shop with Tim.
Dick comes home for dinner after the play and Alfred makes a comment on hos nice it is to have the whole family together for dinner. When both Tim and Jason agree (looking slightly wistful, as Alfred knew they would) Dick readily agrees to come home once every couple of weeks for a family dinner.
Every couple of weeks becomes every week. Then dinner becomes staying the night. Then he starts paroling Gotham since the was staying the night anyway and he Bruce start getting along a lot better. Then he's there for dinner, patrol, and breakfast the next morning. Then he's there for the whole weekend.
The next thing Dick knows, he's put in for a transfer at work and is toting his little brothers around while he goes apartment shopping in Gotham and he's not sure how the whole thing started. He can't remember if it was him or Bruce or maybe Alfred (it was totally Alfred) who started the discussion on all the driving and how Gotham could really use him now that he's cleaned up the BPD. He just knows his little brothers and father had each showed their version of excitement at the idea and now here he is.
Alfred makes sure to make Tim's favorite foods for a while.
877 notes · View notes
xianyoon · 2 months
Text
♡ KISSPROOF!
⤷ alhaitham is a smart man, but can be quite the fool when it comes to you.
char. alhaitham x gn reader. genre. fluff a/n. reader does makeup. this fic is inspired by this video from anthony padilla! a sweet kiss scene for valentine's day hehe ; ty to @iceunhie for helping me proofread!!! :")
Tumblr media
alhaitham cannot resist it when his darling is sitting in front of him so sweetly, your aura so soft and tender, legs crossed on the stool and you perched near the vanity – oh, who can blame him? all he can see are stars . . . he watches as you go through your lengthy process of applying all sorts of product onto yourself.
he doesn’t believe that you need it, of course – you’re perfect as you are to him – but he understands why you put it on, since the day you explained to him that it was to help you feel good. yes, not because you didn’t look good, alhaitham has reassured you of that.
“hayi? can you come here, pleaseee? i need you.” a soft whine breaks him out of his stupor.
“hm?” his eyebrow is raised, and he turns his heel towards you – his darling, sitting there all pretty with the most curious doe eyes to grace his sight. and your smile. oh, your smile, he believes has been blessed with the warmth of the sun. alhaitham gently places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing you tenderly as you reach your hand back to meet his.
"do you know what this is?" you point to a crystal-encrusted gold tube. alhaitham knows it well – it goes on as a thin layer, where you smack it on your lips before planting kisses all over his face. he inspects it even closer, just to be a hundred percent sure – and maybe also to peck a tiny kiss on your cheek.
"..it's lipstick."
"right!" you beam proudly at the right answer. "but what kind of lipstick?"
you look so astoundingly perfect that he has no idea what to say next. oh, smart man, smart man, alhaitham! you’ve got him completely mesmerised. for the first time in his life, he’s hopelessly unsure of what to say next.
"...red?" he mumbles, not taking his gaze off you.
"no." a small giggle parts your lips, and alhaitham looks almost embarrassed to offer such a childish answer.
"this is liquid lipstick."
he peers at the small container you hold in your hands, studying it ever so carefully. isn’t it annoying, having the moistness cling to your rosy lips all day? (that part, he doesn’t quite understand.) you seem to read his thoughts, and lean into his warmth for a bit longer.
"see, the good thing about liquid lipstick–" you brandish your pretty tube proudly, taking the wand out of the tube and applying some to your lips. he sees you scrutinising it in the mirror one last time, smacking your lips together. alhaitham watches with a quiet fascination, seeing them go from a light pink to a dusty coral.
"–is that it dries."
"i see." you smile sweetly up at his response, and alhaitham thinks the world stops to be in awe of you.
"which makes it. . ."
oh, alhaitham. nothing could have prepared him for you placing a hand on the back of his neck – pulling him oh-so-gently closer to you, to plant the sweetest kiss he’s had all day right onto his lips. he squeezes his eyes shut, falling, slowly falling, right into you. oh, archons. if only you knew how much you made his heart leap in private – with just how infatuated he is with your sweetness.
"kissproof!"
a breathy chuckle is the only thing that slips past his lips for a good while.
“i... i believe you got a touch of lipstick on me.” he murmurs when he finally recollects himself, reaching up to touch his lips. alhaitham doesn’t move to wipe it off. "it seems as if your statement has some falsities in it."
“ah! we didn’t let it dry long enough!” you lean away to grab a tissue, but he chases after your touch, moving closer.
lipstick on his lips? perhaps he would never wipe it off. perhaps he’d keep it there, as a memento of your lips on his. oh, my angel... if only you knew how utterly enamoured i am with you.
Tumblr media
taglist : @ryuryuryuyurboat @yeul-ha @the-guardian-kitsune (send ask to be added!)
721 notes · View notes