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zylev-blog · 4 months

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Jazz is Special Agent Fenton of the FBI. She doesn’t go by Fenton when she’s out on a case though; she uses Nightingale. She does this because it keeps her identity secret.

Jazz is investigating a series of crimes. One of the other agents goes undercover to try and set them up in a sting operation. Things go south and now Jazz is going to Gotham to view the murder scene.

When she gets there, GCPD try to stop her at the crime scene barrier. She flashes her FBI jacket and her badge and is given access. She walks over to the police commissioner, a man named Gordon. Gordon obviously doesn’t recognize her, and neither does the vigilante with him—Batman.

“This is a closed crime scene, Miss…?” Gordon asks.

“Nightingale. FBI.” She shows Gordon her badge. “You and your men can clear out. This is our jurisdiction now.”

“We haven’t gotten approval to—“ Gordon stops, but was interrupted by an officer walking over to Gordon and whispering something in his ear. “Fine.” Gordon grumbled, and started telling his men to leave.

“You too, Spooky. I don’t need a vigilante’s help.” She waves off the man without another thought, but Batman doesn’t move. Instead, he completely ignores her and starts walking towards the crime scene. “Obviously, you didn’t hear me.” Jazz scowled. “If you don’t leave, I will remove you with force, Batman.”

Batman turns to look at her. “That isn’t how things work here, Agent Nightingale.”

“It is now.” She kept her expression neutral. “Clear out, or be removed. Your choice.”

Batman tried to look intimidating. Jazz refused to bow. The two stared each other down before Batman took another step towards the crime scene. She reacted instantly. Pulling out a taser, she placed it on his back before he could even react.

He reacted quickly, and sent three batarangs at her in rapid succession. His movements were a bit slower than normal after getting tased. She dodged two of the batarangs, and opted to catch the third in her hand. She flicked it away lazily and cracked her knuckles with a small smile. “I love it when they choose force.”

Batman didn’t react to her comment. He seemed to understand he wasn’t going to be able to get around her without a major fight. He let out an annoyed grunt and grappled away.

Three days later, they meet on the roof of an abandoned building. It seems like Batman was still on the case after all. Jazz was not happy about it. She felt that he was going to ruin the entire operation. She couldn’t trust someone to have her back if they didn’t show their face. She doesn’t let the annoyance show on her face as Batman joins her at the edge of the rooftop.

“I thought I told you to stay off my case, Batman.” She said quietly.

Batman gave a quiet grunt. If she had to put it to words, it would translate to a ‘I do what I want.’

She didn’t speak to him again, but she didn’t kick him out, either. The two didn’t speak a word as they sat for two hours, inspecting the warehouse across the street. It was nearly morning by the time Batman left. She did make sure he left, too—she watched him grapple down the street and heard the roar of the Batmobile pulling away before she breathed out a sigh of relief.

Watching the building was doing nothing. She was going to have to get closer. She was going to have to go undercover herself. The thought didn’t make her any happier, even with knowing what happened to the last agent that went undercover for this operation. She also knew that to keep her tracker on her at all times, she would need to shove it inside a place that nobody would look for it. And boy was that uncomfortable.

Two days after she met Batman did she meet Brucie Wayne for the first time. By now she had been undercover with the modeling agency for a day, and it was going well so far. She was playing her part perfectly, but it could take weeks for them to trust her enough to give her information that she needed to know.

She had been hired to be arm candy for a wealthy man in Gotham. It wasn’t Brucie, though she knew he had a few models on his arms as well. She had gotten through most of the night without incident before she ran into Brucie. Quite literally. Brucie’s champagne spilled down her dress, and she gave a mock scream of outrage.

Brucie tried to clean up her dress, but she swatted his hands away and went to the bathroom to clean up. She never noticed the tracker that Bruce put on the nape of her neck. When she came back out, she noticed her date looking for her. She rejoined him and the rest of the night went smoothly.

A month into the operation and she finally was getting some results. She had been moved from building to building more than once, but she finally got breadcrumbs for what she needed to take them down. It took her another three weeks after that to gather all of the evidence she needed.

At the final takedown, she was joined by none other than Batman. She had half-expected him to show up after she noticed the tracker on her neck six hours after it was placed. She didn’t know when she had even run into the Batman at a stuffy charity gala. She had debated crushing it, but she didn’t have backup and she figured his help was better than nothing. She still didn’t trust him, though. She made sure he knew that, too.

Bringing the tracker up to her lips, she whispered, “Don’t you know it’s rude to listen in on a lady, Batman?”

Together, she and Batman took down the traffickers. They had been using models and trafficking them all over the world to be used as sex slaves. She feels a certain satisfaction while watching everyone be escorted out in cuffs.

“Nice work.” Batman says, figure tall and dark.

She hums. “Thanks.” The silence stretches on for a few minutes before she adds in, “Thanks for having my back.”

“I thought you didn’t need a vigilante’s help?” Batman teased.

She didn’t look at him, but she could hear the teasing on his voice. She smirks and crosses her arms. “I don’t. But you’re harder to get rid of than a ghost in a net.”

Batman didn’t respond back to her, and it takes her a few moments to realize what she had said. She was of course, referencing her parents ghosthunting activities. But he didn’t even know her real name, so how would he even know what he was talking about?

“When do you leave?” Batman asked.

“After everything’s wrapped up. Why, you going to miss me?” She finally turned to look at him. She wished she could run facial recognition and figure out who was under that mask. The psychologist in her wanted to know just why a man would put on a bat mask and fight crime.

“I have a case that could use your input.” Batman deflected her question.

Was that a compliment from the Batman? His way of telling her that he trusted her opinion? Or was it an olive branch?

“Mine or the FBI’s?” She already knew the answer to his question, but she wanted him to say it.

Instead, he just grunted in annoyance. She rolled her eyes and pulled a card out of the pouch that she kept her FBI id at and handed it to him. “That’s my office phone number.” She tapped the card with her finger as he held it. “If you want my personal cell, you’ve got to earn it.”

He nodded and tucked the card into his utility belt. She could see the beginnings of a smile from Batman as he disappeared into the shadows and grappled away.

Surprisingly, it only took Batman a week to call her. She had gotten settled back into her office in DC, and had mostly forgotten about the encounter. She had to report Batman’s appearance in her report, but beyond that, she didn’t have to explain that he helped her take down the ring.

She made a flight back to Gotham the next day. Batman brought her into the Batcave and told her everything she needed to know about the case. She didn’t know where the Batcave was, as Batman had blindfolded her, but she was impressed with his initiative.

“Im not wearing that.” She glared at him with all of the venom she had—which was quite a lot.

“You can’t go out in your FBI jacket.” Batman deadpanned.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Do you think I’m a rookie?” She shook her head and gestured at the costume that the vigilante had made for her. “That doesn’t give you the right to—to—ugh! Im not your Batgirl, or Batwoman, or whatever! I came out as a consult. I don’t dress up in latex, and I don’t wear costumes!”

The costume itself was gorgeous, not that she’d ever tell Batman that. It was solid black, had a red bat on the front of it, and was fully equipped with a utility belt, knife holsters, and a taser. It had a full cowl like Batmans, along with the pointy ears on top.

“I don’t see the problem.” Batman’s voice had undertones of offense in it.

“Look.” She gestured at the costume. “Im honored, truly, that you want me to watch your back. But I’m not a vigilante. Nor will I ever be!”

She had watched what vigilantism had done to Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Valerie over the years. Sure, she’d gone out with them more than once. Without a mask. But there was something more complex about the costume sitting on the table in front of her.

“You said you were going to help.” Batman’s gruff voice got closer as he took a few steps towards her.

“And I did.” She gestured to the Batcomputer. “I already gave you my opinions of the case. I dedicated a weekend of PTO time to be here. But this is as far as my help goes.”

“What about the last operation? You owe me.”

“Owe you?!” She exclaimed, thumping her finger against his chest. “I told you to get lost. You still stuck around. You could’ve cost me the operation!”

“It worked.”

She groaned in frustration. She was close enough to him now that she could smell the faint smell of Kevlar and aftershave from him. She rubbed a hand down her face as she thought over what had happened last time she was in Gotham.

“What about all your other winged vigilantes? You had uh.. Nightwing, and Robin, right?”

“It’s only Nightwing.” Batman responded. “He’s unavailable.”

“I could’ve sworn you had a Robin, too.” She looked up at him and noticed the stiffness of his body.

“Robin has moved on.” Batman replied.

Hmm. Touchy subject. She wasn’t going to push. It wasn’t any of her buisness.

“You must be really desperate if you’re trying this hard to get me to go out in that.” She smirked.

“Things could go wrong.” Batman said with a quiet sigh.

“Don’t they always?” She tilted her head.

“Not always.” Batman mimicked her actions, clearly studying her. “What will it take?”

“If I put that mask on,” She gestured to the table behind her, “You take yours off.”

“No.”

“Fine. Deals off, then.” She pulled her phone out and immediately started looking for flights back to DC.

“Why?” He questioned.

“I can’t trust someone who won’t tell me who they are.” She shrugged.

Batman let out a quiet growl. As he took his cowl off, he scowled. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Miss Fenton?”

“Holy shit.” Her eyes got wide.

Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

#dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #dp dc crossover #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dp crossover #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dcxdp #special agent jazz Fenton #jazz x Bruce #smart jazz Fenton #jazz is a fbi agent #jazz is Batwoman

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controld3vil · 1 month

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popcorn bucket

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (ALL platonic) synopsis: dune dune DUNE. thats it. notes: this completely out of genre for me but i genuinely really like these actor!reader fics !! they're soooo good. and the reader is intended to be gender neutral :D OH and no beta read..

"Maude, a.k.a Maude'Dib for Nerdist!" There was a laugh coming from Rebecca Ferguson as you situated yourself next to her. "Hi! How are you guys?" The blonde woman who supposedly to be your interviewer, Maude Garrett, warmly welcomes the two of you with friendly gestures. "This is my first one of these,"

"This is my second actually," you recuperate back a loveable grin, scouting your back towards the chair. "For you... I'd imagine," then cast a glance to your seatmate, for her response.

"I've been doing them but this is my first." As Rebecca situates herself, holding her phone in one hand, and you, patting any creases found on your trousers. "I'm- I'm down to it - I'm googling..."

A short pause but no matter, as you leaned towards Rebecca's screen and read it out loud. "Dune's Popcorn Bucket,"

"Yeah I don't understand, what's happening?" she shifts the screen for you to have a better look before looking up at the interviewer in pure confusion and bizarreness. You knock your head sideways, trying to discern the confusing photo. A small pout forms on your lips as your brain toggles what exactly you're looking at.

"Oh, you don't know about the AMC popcorn bucket?!" The kind woman exasperates, eyes widening in pure surprise.

Not a second later, your eyes look up at the revelation. "Oh, I see it now!"

Rebecca lifts up her phone and presents what the two of you are looking at. "I'm seeing something but I'm not sure what's going on? What it is?" She still didn't understand what it was and you swirled your hips towards her in a swooshing motion.

"You're supposed to put your hand in there and eat the popcorn," Pivoting your head a little, a grimaced look is plastered on your face. "It's the worm!" The camera zooms into your disturbed expression and then cuts to the Garrett looking straight at them, giving a moment for the audience to register what had happened.

Your costar turns to you and her expression quickly switches to a mischievous one. "Oh." Your strained childish smile almost falters as you try to hold your laugh in.

A few significant chuckles from the blonde interviewee while Rebecca looks back and forth from the film crew to you, her, and the camera. "I don't think they had an intern that had a, you know, "different mindset"."

"How uhm,"

"Interesting!

"Sensual!" A short muffled laugh escapes your laugh coming off as a snort as you instinctively cover your mouth out of embarrassment. Rebecca's word of choice definitely caught you off guard which caused some ruckus behind the camera as well.

"How sensual! That's the perfect word for it," The camera pans towards your red puffed cheeks, looking forward nodding alongside the interviewee who is taking the conversation so charismatically well.

"Yes! Yes!"

"You could say you have to ride the sandworm to earn your spots," Garrett teasingly says while Rebecca and you nod in agreement.

"Well look at that. That's what happened back in the days of MGM, but thankfully we've moved on," she replies tiddling with the toothpick in her mouth as you held your breath for a second. A delayed puff comes from Garrett, looking at the actress beside you in shock.

To say the three of you had a blast through the next hour of the interview.

In another interview, you were paired up with Josh Brolin who had played Gurney Halleck. In respect of your character, his pupil, you couldn't help but feel excited because in very few instances had they given you the chance to be in an interview with him.

Lainey Lui who was eager to talk the both of you, sat across from you both in front of a majestic poster of the project. The title, Dune Part Two was shown in its iconic font. The background was a still of one of the sets used in the film which displayed muted colors and curves.

The woman briefly introduced herself and you did the same. Spotting Brolin, you give a small wave before taking the seat beside him where he earnestly wraps his arm around your back. In full comfort and level of readiness, you felt the tiny jitters fly away.

"It's nice to see you two! So what about introducing Gurney and being able to reunite with someone that means so much to him?"

With a variety of cast members, the film was expansive to bring its sets to life. You felt it on day one of filming the first Dune movie. Yet you become more determined to do more when the production of the second film comes. It was phenomenal teamwork, from the film and cast crew. People in wardrobe and makeup were dedicated to making the costumes feel authentic and lived in. The works of Denise Villeneuve is something you've been fascinated with for a while, dating back to his early works.

It all comes back circle to Josh Brolin, remembrance in all of the heartfelt scenes he had done with Timothee of Gurney's and Paul's reunion. He reminds the interviewee that Paul's relationship with him is strong and familial. And that initially the scene was improvised due to their filming schedule.

"He really is like an anchor for him." "Yeah because for the past nine months, he's been spiraling and lost his family." Brolin nods in agreement, making an analogy with his fingers swirling down in a circle. You couldn't help but feel captivated about what they said, placing an elbow on your knee to better listen.

"And- This means no offense to your character!" Lui, the interviewer almost frantically calls out, moving the attention to you. And suddenly you wake from your trance of listening to being pulled back to their conversation.

"Oh no no! Not at all!" As you try to sweep the worry off, waving your hands in a panic.

A soft chuckle erupts from Brolin, seeing how almost innocently you want to pay no heed to the attention. "Of course, Gurney's moment with Paul could never amount to his and Nerre's- I mean I think their relationship really evolved in this movie than the last one," He sarcastically dismissed, crossing his arms while you dramatically gape at your co-star.

"Of course it did! What are you tryna to say, Brolin?" You leaned forward in your chair towards his direction almost like a child would when wanting to make a point.

"Come on, I hope you're not choosing favorites between your family," The interviewee cutely teases, giving a smile.

"I just think- You know for not having to see him for so long, you could've," It was a tiny joke you and the cast had made before while filming the exact scene he had discussed. In a similar scene to where Paul reunites with Gurney, he reunites with Nerre, your character, his pupil, and has been a father figure too. Shoots were slightly rocking as your reaction to seeing Gurney for the first time on the scene didn't go as satisfactory as Denise Villeneuve had intended. Instead, the two of you (and very much of the crew) couldn't stop giggling at your attempted sad faces. Nerre in the final cut, when meeting Gurney becomes teary-eyed and ultimately cries in his arms. While in actuality, you couldn't take it seriously enough to go rushing to give Brolin a hug. "Put much more of an effort to look happy?"

"That!" You wave an X with both arms, embarrassed how your own co-star would drag you out like this. "I say was very much my fault but we got the take in the end!"

"Sure we did," The older actor aimlessly nods, not once believing your words, having the biggest grin on his face. Evidently, the interview goes smoothly with occasional hits and jabs between the both of you regarding your performance. And sooner it comes full circle back to you and the dynamic of Gurney and Nerre.

"As you've said earlier," your head snaps back to the male actor poignantly, as if mocking, "I don't think Gurney and Paul's relationship would deter anything with Nerre. They're very tight-knitted because we are all family essentially," You spread your hands out as if mimicking a large circle, "I know a lot of people wanted to see Gurney and Nerre's growth and I'm glad we got to see that. But it's essentially Paul that we're seeing spiral toward madness. So it makes sense to see him meeting Gurney more meaningful."

"Yes, it really shows the stakes they all have to deal with!"

"Exactly, my point!" One last look from Brolin as he makes eye contact with you before raising his hand for a high five. Were you now going to compete for Josh Brolin's favoritism against Timothee without his acknowledgment? Of course, you are.

Out in the deserts of Abu Dhabi, the vast bodies of sand were infinite. Much of the crew delivered and prepared props, and essential needs as their number one priority. In it's hot weather and shivering nights, the film production didn't discover much disturbance from the weather. It was rather quite pleasant under it's wake luckily. Some crew were happily taking pictures and filming some of the crew walking around to promote their upcoming project.

"This costume rocks!" You jump off from a small rock platform into the frame of the vertical camera focus and give two thumbs up. You then waved towards the cameraman with an enthusiastic smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning!" Rebecca Ferguson's shout can be heard on the other side of the set as the view pivots towards her in full costume of robes and blue tattoos. "Another day of shooting!"

Day in and out, the production in Abu Dhabi was fun for you. It wasn't much of a nuisance you had feared due to the sand and hot weather but surprisingly pleasant with the luminescent scenery always present behind every camera view.

In another clip, it's shown in the grand hall at the climax of the movie. Where the massive amount of extras were standing, circling the space in the middle for the camera crew to shoot. Timothee was off in the background, practicing his moves with Austin Butler who supposedly would have a spontaneous battle against each other. On the side, you were happily chatting with Florence Pugh in her exquisite attire as Princess Irulan and Christopher Walken were only a few steps behind. You looked beyond curious and happy. A cute short was captured of you trying to poke the small blades on Florence's costume.

The camera expands to reveal all of the other cast such as Zendaya and Rebecca and Javier Bardem chatting. And Denise Villeneuve improvising a scene with Josh Brolin.

Lastly an endearing story comes from your story of Zendaya dragging you with water as you try your best to stand on your feet. You forget who had your phone (Was it Timothee? Or Josh Brolin?) but they were behind the camera, following you around as you struggled to walk to the table full of water cauldrons.

Zendaya was by your side, having a hand on your back, says, "Come on, you can do it!" An determined yelp for your name and you childishly groan.

"I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!"

"You should've taken more water with you kid!" It was Brolin's voice from the far right which confirms Timothee was the one behind the camera. The set production was a few feet, resulting in why cast members always to bring water. Yet from an odd perspective, you had tired yourself out too much. It was as if you had just run a ten-meter run.

Though it felt a marathon, you were doing fall stunts constantly up and down the hills of sand. And to say you were exhausted was an understatement. A chuckle erupts and the air feels lighter when Javier Bardem arrives into frame, seeing your poor state.

"Drink some more water!"

As your next story slides to you chugging down a full hydro flask of water like an animal thirsting for air. Your female costar beside you looked at you in horror, almost terrified of stopping you.

"Hey slow down!"

This wasn't the final moment of your press for the film. However, it was the most captivating and relishing one. In the room full of your favorite people and an interviewee dedicated to the works of Dune, Naz Perez, you all delved into the complex characters you all portrayed onscreen and discussed the juggling topics of characters, love, and how to ride a sandworm.

One by one, the woman pointed out interesting questions for all of your cast to expand upon and you couldn't help but be pulled into a trance to what everyone said. From the dynamics of the new characters beginnings to the interior struggles they had, the room felt revelating of the dedicated work of Denise Villeneueve.

Until Perez perfectly transitions her attention to you after listening to Austin Butler's performance. "Speaking of elevating performances," A few of the people on the couch cooed and awed as you bashfully clamped your hands together in an innocent manner. Your name is spoken out. "Nerre's transformation in Part Two is really eye-opening. For someone who had started out as a young, skilled, and playful warrior to a more serious and revengeful one, how do you think they helped Nerre evolve as a person?"

"I've wanted to point this out before, yeah Nerre kind of starts out a free-willed comedic character," You nod trying to find the right words to describe your interpretation of your character. "But then after "losing" Gurney and being separated from everyone, they could only look forward towards the perpetrators which were the Harkonnen. And for that, they're consumed with the idea of revenge, taking back what was once theirs, their home. You see this when Paul or the other Fremen question their motives because that's a dark path to go by," Each person you mentioned turn their heads to listen to your words carefully, knowing how dedicated you were to the film.

"Right, and for better and or for worse, they have matured. They're being front about the decisions being made, and what's happening in Arrakis, so tell me the conflicts they must've had to deal with others."

"Mmm I would say a lot of their internal turmoil " You were hesitant to say if it was going to spoiler territory. But glancing towards everyone, made you feel assured you were doing fine. "Is always guarded against others. But upon the last film, I believe the revelation of the destruction of House Atreides opened their eyes to first found war. And it terrifies them you know, you have to put in perspective they were young teenagers. So seeing that and then meeting these new characters who are vastly different and want for change, motivates them to induce war. So it brings conflict to almost everyone because war will attract more chaos." You attempt to piece together your last remaining sentences, looking up and down at the interviewer.

"No words can be better said," Perez dazedly comments, placing a hand over her heart you flaunt lovingly. "Reminds me of a certain psycho."

"Right! You know Feyd-Rautha and Nerre could've been besties!" You snapped your fingers which made both Zendaya and Florence burst out laughing. While Austin stares at you smiling, nodding in agreement.

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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

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Hurricane

This is part 1. You can read part 2 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n.

Word Count: 9.5k

warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking

Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick.

“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons.

“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.”

More silence.

They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.

Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile.

“Tell me something good, y/n.” Carmen mumbled through his hands.

It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good.

“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.

“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died.

“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”

Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him.

“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”

“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”

“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”

“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”

One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.

“You think there's going to be strippers?”

Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…

“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen.

Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?”

She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair.

For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.

“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.

“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.

“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”

“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.

“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”

“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.”

“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.”

“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.

“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”

Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.

“Would you ever be a stripper?”

3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face.

Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind. She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part? She was enjoying herself.

“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark.

He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second.

“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?”

Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy.

Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.”

What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life.

Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired.

“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment, “tempting.”

Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”

Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.

After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place.

“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys.

“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.”

“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”

“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”

“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”

“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"

Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new.

“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”

“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad.

“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”

Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"

“Let me do this for you…Please.”

Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.

“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation.

“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do.

They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.

They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car.

“You good?”

“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.

“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark."

Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place.

Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh.

“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up.

The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield.

“Thanks again Carmen.”

“Will your car be back tomorrow?”

“The day after.”

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”

“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing.

“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation.

Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed.

“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.”

Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off.

She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment.

She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to find his phone.

Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”

“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories.

Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave.

“Night y/n”

And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out.

Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.

Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting.

If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over?

Awkward silence.

“Good morning.” Y/n started.

“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.

"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.

“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”

No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in.

“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?”

Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”

“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically. “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-”

“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did.

“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.

“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”

“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.

“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously.

“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.

“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief.

“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.

“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?”

Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.

“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly.

Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed.

“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.

“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing.

“Let me think about it.”

Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance.

The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant.

Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow.

“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly.

“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned

“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.

They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office.

The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”

“Only a few hours” Richie offered

“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned.

“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.

More silence.

“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”

“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.

“You would be fucking crazy to say no.”

“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.

Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.”

“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.”

“You're religious?” Richie questioned

“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.

“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him.

“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries.

Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n.

“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.

They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n.

“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?”

“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen.

“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.”

“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”

Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.

Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…

Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.

Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor.

Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.”

A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.

“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver.

Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow.

Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request

She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k.

She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.

A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her.

He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”

“What if I have to use the bathroom?”

“No.”

“No?”

“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”

“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”

“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways.

“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n.

“What? Why?”

”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”

“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not letting you do this unless-”

“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good.

Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.

They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer.

The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie.

“Is it handled?”

“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”

“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”

“No wise cracks.”

“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”

“Sure thing princess.”

“Do not-”

They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen.

“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”

“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything.

“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.”

Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.”

“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do? Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes.

They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home.

The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose.

The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute.

The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived.

“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”

Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.”

“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.

“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.

“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.”

Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.

“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed.

Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.

Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk.

The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible.

A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk.

“Payback time.”

Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better.

Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now.

The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.

“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”

“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun.

“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk.

“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.”

Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party.

“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.

Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene. Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.

The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself. Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.

Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.”

Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes.

“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.”

“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.

“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups.

Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her

“I like it here.”

“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together.

Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”

“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”

Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what?

“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes.

“You promised, you wouldn’t.”

“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something.

Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”

Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”.

Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful.

"Tattoo?"

Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.

Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee.

“Your past the counter, chef”

Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter.

Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.

“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath, y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter.

Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm.

“Make it hurt.”

Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie.

“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought. Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”

Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.

“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible.

“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter.

“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men.

“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?”

Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside.

“A shot of water?” y/n offered.

Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?

He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes,

“Hit me with your best shot, chef.”

Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position.

“How was that, chef?”

It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter.

“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock.

Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break”

Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.

“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled.

Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.

“I need to go to bed.”

“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.”

“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie.

A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.

Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.

“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head.

The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there.

Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself.

She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch.

“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car.

Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.”

“You need some sleep”

“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.

Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her.

"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.

The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.

“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered.

“I have a jacket”

“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap.

Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness.

Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Aggravated Assault.”

Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on.

Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”

“We’ll see when she wakes up.”

Part 2

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etherealkissed88 · 6 months

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the reason why circumstances seem so annoying is because 1. your adding meaning to them 2. you are aware of them.

1. adding meaning to circumstances:

you dont realize that all “circumstances” and everything in the 3d, even the 3d itself, is neutral and literally doesnt come with any original meaning. meaning only comes when ego judges what the senses view. think about it: its all about perspective; two people both get 80% on their test. person A doesnt care because she decides its a neutral grade while person B freaks out because she thinks an 80% means she isnt smart enough since she believes she should have gotten a 100%. so person B cares and adds meaning to the score and even adds meaning to herself: “im not smart enough” “i should have studied harder” “i knew i was going to do bad”. person A doesnt add any meaning to it because she simply doesnt care, therefore she doesnt change her identity like person B did. person B still knows who she is and isnt letting a circumstance change her identity. when adding meaning to neutral circumstances, ofc you will feel annoying and you could feel like things are out of control because you are giving up your power to something that originally has no power.

2. being aware of circumstances:

ofc some circumstances can be right in your face and its something you cant ignore. but constantly being aware of them to the point where you start to believe them as true is what not to do. remember that life is a game and remember that you can instantly change circumstances. why do people manifest wealth in the most shitty circumstances for example, manifesting wealth while being homeless and neville goddard manifesting he was back home while being drafted in the war. circumstances never matter. you continuously accepting them as true is a no-no. when a circumstance hits you, realize it only exists because you are currently aware of it. things only exist when you become aware of them. you are aware of the your device you have right now but when you are sleeping and dreaming, this device doesnt exist because you arent aware of it anymore. circumstances are so temporary. the only thing giving them power is you and your fear of failure. if you keep being aware of something you dont want, ofc it will be annoying and it will seem like your stuck with it forever. thats a lie. circumstances are so easy to get over once you realize all of this is under your complete power of imagination and all you have to do is be aware of having what you want in imagination, instead of being aware and dwelling on circumstances.

#loassumption #loa blog #manifesting #edward art #neville goddard #3d #consciousness #4d reality #law of assumption #etherealkissed #desired self #desired life #imagination creates reality #imagination #imagine #loa tumblr

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sytoran · 8 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑!

howdy! it's two weeks till october, and that means kinktober season. i've planned a very elaborate (and spicy) menu for you lot. it's my first ever kinktober event, so don't be too harsh on me. stay tuned for the good stuff!

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

🎃 minors dni! for the rest of yall please be mindful of warnings and tags before reading (a lot of these fics may contain sensitive/triggering stuff!)

🎃 all fics will be dom!reader x sub!marvel women. (mainly wanda maximoff and natasha romanoff). don't like, don't read.

🎃 posts relating to this kinktober event will be tagged as 'sytoran's kinktober 2023'

🎃 i generally like to write reader as more masc-representing, and only either fem!reader or gender-neutral!reader (no male!readers)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

🎃 OCTOBER 001.

somnophilia | CW!wanda x beefy!avenger!reader summary: after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed. cont: mild non-con, vaginal fingering, begging, daddy kink

🎃 OCTOBER 003.

blowjob | secretary!natalie rushman x ceo!reader summary: natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file involves seducing a high-ranking executive, and the seduction goes smoothly. a little too well, in fact, that she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be. cont: reader has a cock, power play, begging

🎃 OCTOBER 005.

thigh-riding | IW!wife!wanda x gn!reader summary: you've always loved writing stories since young, but the tale of you and your wife writes itself, and it ends with a sweet happy-ever-after. cont: soft sex, established relationship, romance + fluff

🎃 OCTOBER 007. [POSTPONED]

stockholm syndrome | AOU!wanda x hydra!reader summary: after being taken as hostage by HYDRA's runaway assasin, newbie avenger wanda is prepared for pretty much anything, except developing feelings for her captor. cont: reader has a metal prosthetic arm, humiliation, degradation

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 009.

mermaphilia | mermaid!wanda x pirate!reader summary: as captain of a notorious gang of pirates, you've got a reputation of steel, but when there's a pretty little mermaid presenting herself for you, there's no chance in hell you're not saying yes. cont: sweet talk, begging, humiliation, overstimulation

🎃 OCTOBER 011.

size kink | roomate!natasha x werewolf!reader summary: despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for. cont: (very) rough sex, reader has a cock, breeding, creampie

🎃 OCTOBER 013.

knife play | bimbo!wanda x ghostface!reader summary: for years on end you've chased sweet revenge. from being your high school bully to the fount of your desires, wanda maximoff is your esteemed salvation and utter demise. today, you plan on taking it all back. cont: dubious consent, degradation, fingering

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 — 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 015.

tit-fucking | milf!natasha x amab!reader summary: your wife thinks you've been acting a little off lately. she tries possible solutions to lighten your mood, but eventually it comes down to the 'hard' truth that you wanna fuck her tits. cont: reader has a cock, teasing, possessiveness, praise

🎃 OCTOBER 017.

breeding press | housewife!wanda x amab!reader summary: your wife looks a little too good on a particular weekday morning. spoiler alert - you end up late for work that day. cont: reader has a cock, daddy kink, possessiveness, marking

🎃 OCTOBER 019.

public sex | milf!natasha x mechanic!reader summary: natasha's had a completely shit day, and the last straw is when her car breaks down on the way home. the unbelievably sexy mechanic who shows up to fix her car makes it an unforgettable night. cont: daddy kink, horniness, hot mechanic stuff

🎃 OCTOBER 021.

wall sex | cheerleader!natasha x footballer!reader summary: natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player, both on the field and with the ladies. however, she's always been good at getting what she wants. cont: very long fic, squirting strap-on, cunnilingus

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 — 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 023.

exhibitionism | agent!peggy x lieutenant!reader summary: there's nothing quite like a classic 1940s sapphic romance, except the element of 'forbidden' doesn't apply to you; you're eating your wife out under her office desk as she speaks to - or least, attempts to speak to - her military soldiers. cont: office sex, cunnilingus, fingering, edging

🎃 OCTOBER 025. [POSTPONED]

aphrodisiac | witch!agatha x hunter!reader summary: during one of your hunting sessions in the woods, you stumble across a little wooden shack that wasn't there before. your curiosity gets the better of you, but you aren't prepared for what lies beyond. cont: non-con, sex pollen, riding, power bottom

🎃 OCTOBER 027. [POSTPONED]

caught masturbation | college!kate x professor!reader summary: kate's your best student, diligently attentive in your lectures. who knew that there were hidden intentions behind all that attention she paid to your teaching. or more specifically, you. cont: age gap, professor kink, humiliation, fingering

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 — 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

🎃 OCTOBER 029. [POSTPONED]

brat-taming | bimbo!wanda x sugarmommy!reader summary: what was supposed to be a relaxing day off at the bar turned awry when your pretty little girlfriend stepped in. wanda has a little too much fun toying with those sleazy men, so it's up to you to teach her a lesson. cont: bathroom sex, spanking, hair-pulling, degradation

🎃 OCTOBER 030. [POSTPONED]

omegaverse | omega!natasha x alpha!reader summary: while visiting your sister, kate, at the avengers compound, you stumble into none other than the black widow. there's big reputations, miscommunications, sexual tensions, and a whole lot of hot sex. cont: flirting, seduction, heat/rut, mating bite

🎃 OCTOBER 031. [POSTPONED]

mirror sex | barbie!wanda x gynecologist!reader summary: a sequel to 'doctor's orders'. wanda's curious nature to explore her new body intimately leads you to purchase a full-length mirror in your shared apartment. you teach her everything she needs to know. cont: fingering, guided masturbation, power play

credits to @cafekitsune for the line dividers i will be using

do not copy, edit, or translate my works.

kinktober requests || main masterlist || ao3

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jihyoruri · 8 months

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OBVIOUS bada lee x reader

warnings: yn is a member of twice, everybody is out here embarrassing yn, fluff

yn leaned into her seat as she watched the dancers, she was so focused that she didn’t even realize monika lean over to her.

“yn.” she whispers, the twice member hums in response her attention still ahead of her, “she was staring at you hard.”

that’s what gets yn’s attention, she snaps her head towards her fellow judge, “who?” she whispers back.

“you know who.” the girl whispers back as yn looks at her confused, she really didn’t know who monika was talking about. “you’ve been keeping your eyes on her the whole time as well.”

yn tenses finally realizing who monika was talking about, she turned her gaze back in front of her, “I’ve been keeping my eyes on everyone.” she replies, shrugging nonchalantly.

“oh, right..” monika trails off nonchalantly, “so you haven’t been taking quick glances at that tall one over there, what’s her name again?” she asks sarcastically.

“bada.” yn replies quickly before cursing at herself as monika’s smile grows big.

monika raises her brow teasingly as yn shakes her head, “shut up, leave me alone.”

“does the great yn have a crush?” monika whispers, laughing to herself as yn shakes her head, “or is it the other way around, cause she’s been staring a lot.”

it was true, of course yn didn’t notice much because she was focused on the other girls, well at least tried to, but monika noticed, she noticed how the dancer stared at yn when she was introduced as a judge and how she always took glances at yn when she wasn’t looking.

yn glared at her before letting out a deep sigh, “you’re talking out of your ass.” she said adjusting herself in her seat, “how about instead of being the person that causes me stress, focus on the dancers, and think about what you’re gonna say.”

“oh I definitely know why you wanna focus on the dancers.” monika teases as she looked ahead of her to see the main topic of the conversation come to the middle. “look at her all tall for you.”

yn looked down in her lap, trying her best not to burn into flames, she’s really regretting taking up momo’s suggestion for this,“how about you shut up and watch kirsten and bada dance for us, please and thank you.” yn says softly, she loves monika but gosh does she love to tease yn.

“one of them is definitely dancing for you.” she teases again before shutting up and putting her attention towards the two girls in front of them.

yn felt monika side eyeing her the whole time as they watched the girls dance but she kept a poker face, there was no way she was letting a tall attractive girl get in her way of her being the “intimidating judge.” that she wanted to be.

even though her face and demeanour didn’t fit the part, yn was always pretty serious when it came to dance, she never even held back when it came to correcting her members, she was always stern and straightforward and yn was proud to say a dancer has never made her flustered or tripped up.

well…

not until now.

when the two girls finished dancing, everyone clapped and cheered for them, the judges stood up, monika making sure to grab yn’s arm pulling her to stand up with her as they clapped, as she cheered she leaned over to yn muttering a “your face is red.”

yn forced a smile as she clapped but her eyes told it all when she side eyed monika as they proceeded to sit back down.

yn zooned out for a little, her gaze set on the dancer in the racer jacket, but was snapped out of her daze, when she hears bada’s name being called and cheers filling her ears.

she nodded and smiled as her fellow judges talked and praised bada completely forgetting that she’s gonna have to talk soon.

as soon monika finished what she said she turned her attention to yn with a neutral look but yn could see the mischief in her eyes, monika nodded towards yn as a way of saying your turn making everyone else turn and look at the twice member.

yn looked ahead of herself making direct eye contact with the dancer before clearing her throat and looking back down at her lap and picking up her microphone, “hold on wait one sec.” she says making everyone laughs at her flustered state.

“you look a little red yn.” mike says pointing to yn’s face making everyone laugh even more, including the person who caused this whole thing.

yn shakes her head in embarrassment before bringing the mic to her lips, “bada..” she starts, “you stood out to me very fast.”

“I was like oh my gosh who’s this girl.” yn continues, finally having the confidence to keep her eye contact with the girl, “but now I definitely know who this girl is wow.” yn says brightly gesturing up and down with her hands at the dancer as bada bows at her.

“you’re already killing the game and showing people how much of a good dancer you are and I can’t wait to see more of you.” yn finishes smiling at bada who thanks her as everyone claps.

“wow! I’ve never seen you praise someone so much yn.” monika says shaking one of yn’s shoulders, it was both true and wrong, yn will praise anyone for doing the bare minimum when it comes to rapping and singing but with dance it takes the person a lot for her to be so praiseful.

“do you have a favourite already?” she jokes, laughing when yn rests her head on her mic as everyone once again laughs at her, she shakes her head when she feels mike pat her shoulder as a sense of comfort as he joins in on the laughs.

this is gonna be a long season.

yn walks through the hall her face deep in her phone as she texts nayeon ranting about how all her fellow judges embarrassed her today.

yn was to into her phone to realize the tall figure walking in front of her, but she’s hit with the harsh reality when she slams right into the dancers back.

yn tenses as she looks up from her phone, turning it off quickly before putting it away, “I’m so sorry”

the girl looked down at her brushing her apology off, “nah it’s okay.”

yn feels multiple buzzes from her phone and takes it out, “well, I’ll see you around.” she says quickly before walking past bada.

“whoa wait.” the taller girl said as she pulled yn back, “you seemed pretty flustered earlier.” she says to yn pulling the girl closer to her.

“I wouldn’t say flustered…” yn trails off looking into the side.

“umm” bada hums in faux understanding tone, “I’m a pretty big fan of twice you know?”

“oh, thank you.” yn says awkwardly.

“and I think it would be cool to hang out with my bias sometime.”

yn nods before shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t think I’m aloud to hang out with contestants, you never know what they’re really hanging out with you for.”

“nobody has to know.” bada says as she leans against the wall.

“sorry, I’m not the type to get in trouble.” yn says before turning around and proceeding to walk away.

she feels a presence walking behind and an arm thrown around her shoulder, “you know, I don’t appreciate my girlfriend rejecting me and acting like she doesn’t know me.” bada says teasingly as she looks down at yn and pulls her into her side.

yn laughs feeling her face heat up as she leans into the taller girls side, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“you’re not my girlfriend anymore? is this how you break up with me?” bada jokes as she takes arm from around yn and pretends to walk away.

yn laughs as she grabs the taller girls arm and pulls her back to her, “okay okay, im joking.” she says wrapping her arms around bada’s mid, “you did good today.”

“thank you.” bada replies putting her chin on top of yn’s head, “you coming to my place.”

“I’m meeting up with nayeon unnie.”

“then come over to night.”

“that’s what I was planning on.”

“good.”

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter #twice #girl group imagines #fluff

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rants-of-rae · 8 months

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Ahsoka on Choosing (and Fighting) to Live, and why it matters that Anakin was the one to complete this lesson

Ahsoka has been playing the neutral game for a while now. Don’t engage, it at all possible. Avoid conviction , which Anakin points out that she lacks. Anakin tells Ahsoka that her training isn’t yet complete. There’s still a last lesson for her, and it’s one that transforms her in the end.

That message? Fight.

This is not about merely physical survival. This is about spiritual survival, the survival of who Ahsoka is in the Light.

It’s exactly the lesson Anakin had to learn for himself. He had to learn to fight for the Light inside him; he had to fight Vader to find himself again and protect the core of who he is. He couldn’t teach her that before, all that time ago. He didn’t know. He could teach her to be a soldier, yes, but as Ahsoka knows and as we found out in this episode, her training from him wasn’t complete. Because he had only recently learned t he final lesson himself, which he is now in the World Between Worlds to teach her. He tells her:

He knows it’s already within her, but she resists the message. Ahsoka lives through the past once again, and Anakin is trying to show her how she wasn’t just fighting to live in a physical sense, she was fighting to save her self in the spiritual sense, her soul in the Light side of the Force. She fought to save herself when she left the Jedi Order. She fought for what she believed was right in the siege of Mandalore.

But in one thing, Ahsoka has remained neutral, avoiding a solid conviction. She won’t fight Anakin, she won’t take that step.

But that’s not what Anakin wants. In the same way that Luke initially didn’t want to fight his father and eventually had to in order to protect what is good and true inside of himself, Ahsoka has to choose that, too. Anakin had to learn that and choose to live himself, too. Luke and Anakin have gone before her; it is Ashoka’s turn now. Anakin pushes her.

Ahsoka walks right up to the edge. She engages in the struggle, as she is meant to. She touches the Dark side, and she chooses to back away from it. She chooses to fight for the Light inside her. She chooses to live.

It’s exactly what Anakin wanted her to learn. His reaction is interesting, because he appears almost sad for a moment.

But I think it’s because he’s shocked at how comparatively easy it was for Ahsoka to resist the Dark side, in contrast to himself. He realizes she’s so much stronger on that front than he ever was. He’s surprised, ashamed of himself perhaps, but ultimately proud of her. “There’s hope for you yet,” he tells Ahsoka.

This experience changes Ahsoka forever and from this she becomes Ahsoka the White.

Ahsoka has found balance now. She learns that in the struggle to hold on to the Light inside of her, she has to take a stand in the end. It’s what Luke learned, it’s what Anakin finally learned, and Ahsoka has finally found that hope, too. Anakin wasn’t able to finish her training all that time ago because he didn’t know the lesson yet; now that he does, he has returned to her in the World Between Worlds to finish her training. He brought balance yet again, and Ahsoka has found peace with her past. She was never “just a soldier,” she was always so much more. Anakin brought her hope, and now its Ahsoka’s turn to carry the flame.

#ahsoka #ahsoka series #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka episode 5 spoilers #anakin #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #vader and ahsoka #ahsoka the white #star wars meta #star wars

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lovesickeros · 8 months

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☆ even the gods bleed

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #focalors #furina #neuvillete #a family can be a dragon an archon and his 300 other children who reverse adopted him #u date him its a package deal sorry #u now have like 300 children g-dspeed #also tagged spoilers on neuvi's part bc its kinda a spoiler??? sort of #also this can be read as platonic or romantic on neuvi's part #can u tell i like focalors btw :)#also gonna be swapping between focalors/furina bc SOMEONE sent me a theory and it sent me spiraling im gonna be ill #u know who u r and ur days r numbered #can be read as romantic between reader & neuvi but only bc i know focalors rubs it in his face she found the actual creator first #anyway can u tell focalors is my fav pt2 i wont shut up abt her its terminal atp #focalors..................#anyway *doesnt post fr months. randomly drops a 2k word fic. leaves and doesnt elaborate*#starts out v serious ends v silly #wrote this in one sitting im gonna go pass out now gn

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poisonlove · 3 months

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Proposal | va

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" I ask incredulously to the brunette in front of me.

Wednesday rolls her eyes at my request and merely stares at me with her usual apathetic gaze. We were sort of friends... well, I'm not entirely sure, given that a couple of times she told me she could barely stand me and refrained from taking my life due to my bright and optimistic attitude. Nevertheless, I enjoyed spending time with her.

"You know I hate repeating things," she says, maintaining a neutral tone, "but... I asked if you can pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents," she repeats, batting her lashes. "So, I didn't mishear," I murmur under my breath, and the long-braided girl rolls her eyes at my comment.

Wednesday and I are completely different: she's black, I'm white; night and day; yin and yang. My reaction is entirely justified! How can two people so different be together? Despite these internal questions, a part of me has been waiting for this proposal for a long time. Even though the gothic girl wasn't programmed for relationships, my heart couldn't help but beat faster for her over time. Wednesday remains unsettling, and her tastes are truly unique, but despite everything, talking to her is pleasant, and I adore the way she treats me.

In the end, the little brat cares about me.

"So?" she asks impatiently, and I blink, diverting my attention from my thoughts. "Why? Why do you want to pretend in front of your parents?" I inquire with curiosity, and Wednesday crosses her arms over her chest, looking at me seriously.

Wednesday sighs, lowering her head towards the floor, averting her gaze from mine. "You know I hate the human race, right?" she rhetorically asks, and I nod, attentively watching the gothic girl. "I don't want my family to know that I still feel this hatred. I want them to believe that I have social interactions," she says, almost with shyness in her whisper. "And besides, they already know you," she adds absentmindedly.

Analyzing her words, I smile widely with mischief. "You want your parents to believe that you're like them... Do you care about their opinion!" I say with emotion, approaching Wednesday more. I wrap my arms around her waist, catching the brunette off guard, and hug her tightly against my chest. "Y/n," she warns, her voice lowering dangerously. Seeing that I don't let go of her, Wednesday sighs heavily before tentatively reciprocating the hug, making me triumphantly smile.

"See? You've taken steps forward! You can endure hugs," I say, smiling widely.

Wednesday loosens herself from my arms and sighs heavily. "I can tolerate touching you for a few minutes before my homicidal instinct acts on its own," she says absentmindedly, tightening her grip.

Okay, her arms were around my neck, and I wasn't exactly sure if Wednesday was being serious. I loosen my hold on her body and step back, observing her brown eyes completely unreadable. "Alright," I say smiling slightly and Wednesday lifts the corners of her lips simulating a smile.

"Perfect," she declares, immediately wiping the smile from her face. The gothic girl walks towards her desk and sits in front of her typewriter, leaving me stunned. "Is that all?" I ask incredulously and Wednesday turns her head towards me looking at me seriously. "Yes. Now go, I need to write. See you tomorrow morning at the entrance, don't be late," she says with a neutral tone returning to her writing.

The sound of her fingers pounding on the keyboard fills the room, and I'm left staring at Wednesday Addams. "Stop looking at me, it's irritating," she says, sighing loudly. "Go away," she repeats and I smile unconsciously at her words. In the particular language of the Addams, stop looking at me seems to translate to if you look at me, I get distracted and can't continue writing and i have to talk to you

Exiting Ophelia Hall, I run into Enid returning from her date. "Everything okay with Ajax?" I ask with curiosity and the blonde laughs happily, nodding.

"And you? Has Wednesday already grown tired of you?" she says smiling and I nod my head, my enthusiasm slipping away.

"You know she likes you... she's just slow in these things," Enid encourages me and I smile with sadness. "Yeah..." I say doubtfully and sigh loudly. "I'm going to my dorm, goodnight," I say to Enid, who looks at me with sadness before walking towards her room.

(...)

"Good morning," I say with enthusiasm as I see Wednesday Addams waiting for me at the entrance of Nevermore Academy. The gothic girl looks at me impatiently.

"You're late," Wednesday says, looking at me seriously, arms crossed. "Sorry... Yoko didn't wake me up," I justify, and the brunette shoots me a glare. I unconsciously smile, seeing the tension in Wednesday's shoulders, her coffee-colored eyes brimming with irritation. "The usual silly vampire," she mutters softly, and I glance at the brunette, suppressing a knowing smile at her jealous outburst.

"Y/n!" I turn towards the voice and see the mentioned girl running towards me, holding my hoodie. "Yoko," I smile at the vampire, immediately feeling a piercing gaze behind my back. "You forgot your hoodie; thanks for lending it to me," she says, smiling widely and revealing her fangs.

"Thanks," I take the hoodie, and with the corner of my eye, I see Wednesday continuing to stare at us with irritation.

I walk back towards Wednesday, and she scrutinizes me with her eyes, shining with jealousy. "Did you lend her your hoodie?" she unconsciously asks, and I nod without any issue. "Good," Wednesday rolls her eyes and walks out of the iron gate, leaving me stunned and standing alone.

Every time Wednesday saw me with Yoko, she became impatient and stared at us with irritation, unable to avoid feeling uncomfortable. I knew Wednesday's jealousy was entirely different from romance; the gothic girl had confessed that I'm her only friend, not counting Enid, and Wednesday doesn't like sharing her things.

"Hey!" I chase after Wednesday, and the girl continues to walk with her classic elegant yet serious pace. "Wait," I shout at the gothic girl, and she stops, sighing loudly. "Move," she says irritably, and I roll my eyes at her childish behavior.

The Addams family's car appears before our eyes, sending a shiver down my spine. "So, shall we go in?" Wednesday Addams says, opening the car door and inviting me to get inside the vintage car. Lurch watches us from the central mirror, and his eyes make me uneasy.

Wednesday's hand delicately takes mine, and my eyes shift downwards. My heart races against my chest. The gothic girl's skin is pale and cold to the touch, but it's a pleasant sensation. Wednesday holds my hand in a peculiar way, loosely against mine, with a stiff wrist, as if she doesn't know how to hold hands.

Lurch looks away from the mirror and starts the car. "What are you doing?" I whisper as soon as the partition rises between us, and Wednesday quickly lets go of my hand. "We need to start the plan; play along," she apologizes with an authoritative and cold tone, surprising me.

"Well..." I say hesitantly, looking out of the car window. The landscape outside is shrouded in an eerie atmosphere, with a dense, dark-leafed forest standing against a twilight sky. The air is thick with mystery, and the road winding through the forest seems to lead to unknown places.

The car stops, and I, with a puzzled look, glance around. "We've arrived," announces Wednesday, quickly getting out of the car, and I follow suit.

The Addams' house stands imposingly before us, a Gothic mansion wrapped in an aura of dark elegance. Sharp spires pierce the sky, while intertwined vines give it an even more sinister appearance. The windows are adorned with heavy curtains and stained glass that seems to hide dark secrets within.

A sense of unease envelops the surrounding atmosphere, but at the same time, there's something fascinating in the decadent majesty of the Addams' abode. With uncertain steps, I approach the main door, ready to immerse myself in the enigmatic world of this unique family.

Wednesday rings the doorbell.

The gothic girl firmly grabs my hand again. "Calm down and act like a real girlfriend, or I'll kill you," she whispers in a low voice, her gaze fixed on the imposing door of the Addams' house.

The tension in the air is palpable, and when the door opens slowly, Mr. Addams, a man of imposing figure and mysterious air, appears behind it. His mischievous smile widens upon seeing his daughter Wednesday hand in hand with me.

"Stormcloud!" Gomez opens his arms, expecting a hug from his daughter. However, Wednesday looks at him with confusion, remaining fixed in place, not responding to the expected embrace.

"Darling! Our terror is home!" Gomez Addams exclaims with a playful smile, revealing the family's peculiar sense of humor.

At that moment, the house door opens elegantly, revealing the dark and fascinating figure of Morticia Addams. Her presence is shrouded in an aura of mystery and grace, with her long black hair and the form-fitting dress that emphasizes her sinister elegance.

"Welcome, my treasures," Morticia murmurs, her calm and measured voice adding a touch of seduction to the atmosphere. Her gaze, penetrating and magnetic, traverses the foyer as she observes the two of us with interest. A smile spreads across her lips upon seeing our intertwined hands.

"Our little one brought home a guest," announces Mr. Addams, and Morticia smiles slightly. "It's a pleasure to see you again, y/n," she says, addressing me with a slight bow.

I met the Addams family at Nevermore, and it was the first time I saw their house.

"The pleasure is mine," I say with a smile on my lips. A guttural sound echoes behind us, and when I turn, I see Lurch walking strangely towards us, holding my hoodie.

Without saying anything, Wednesday takes the hoodie and wraps it around her waist. "Don't say anything," she whispers, tightening her grip on my hand, and I nervously smile. Lurch takes off his hat and mutters something incomprehensible before entering the house. "Thanks," I say, smiling widely and leaning towards Wednesday.

I had to play the role of a girlfriend, right? So, I had to thank her appropriately. I unconsciously smile as my lips touch her pale cheek. Sensing a strange movement near her, Wednesday turns towards me, looking at me seriously. Instead of a simple thank-you, my lips collide abruptly with hers. I immediately sigh at the contact with her soft lips.

Wednesday stiffens at the touch but shows no sign of rejection. The gothic girl extends her hand, intertwining her fingers around my neck, pulling me closer, our lips firmly attached.

I break the kiss and look at the family with embarrassment, Gomez smiling widely. My heart was pounding wildly, and shivers ran down my body, the ghost of the kiss still present on my lips. The kiss was fantastic, I must admit, and her lips were delightfully cold and plump, exactly as I had imagined them in my dreams.

Wednesday clenches her jaw and breaks the contact between our hands, entering the house. I was about to follow her when a hand gently grabs my arm. Mr. Addams looked at me, smiling but with a strange glint in his eyes. "You know how our family is, right?" he asks in a low voice. "Yes..." I say hesitantly, feeling a strange anxiety creeping in.

"If you dare to harm our little one, I swear I'll cut you into such small pieces that it will be impossible to find you," he threatens menacingly.

I nervously swallow saliva.

"Darling, don't scare our guest," Morticia intervenes with a small smile on her lips. "But the threat is real," she says before turning and walking towards the staircase, her husband following her with admiration.

"Well, I'm screwed," I say nervously, my eyes looking around with confusion, not exactly sure where the heck I should go.

Wednesday's Room

My eyes curiously scanned Wednesday's room: black curtains, a small guillotine, scattered weapons, and a canopy bed. I had the pleasure of meeting her little brother, Pugsley. The Addams boy had embraced Wednesday, begging her to play with him—games like burying him alive, shooting him with a crossbow, or tying him up somewhere.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, a strange silence enveloping us.

"Do you want to talk about the kiss?" I asked timidly, and Wednesday's shoulders tensed as she sat on the canopy bed. Her eyes looked at me with confusion, and with a slight nod of her head, she gestured for me to sit beside her.

I walked over with embarrassment and sat beside her.

"It was an accident," I confessed, feeling fear gradually grow in my body. Wednesday raised her head and looked at me attentively, her cold fingers touching mine.

"Okay," she said simply, her eyes looking at me in a strange way. "But we absolutely have to do it again, now," she said quickly, her eyes watching me closely. "I need to understand something," she added later, her eyes truly expressing curiosity.

I blinked in surprise and leaned towards her, shivering with excitement. Wednesday looked at me attentively and raised her chin, seeing how I was getting dangerously close to her face. I closed my eyes and bridged the gap between our lips, smiling at the moment of the long-awaited kiss. Wednesday melted at the contact and leaned further, her hands gripping my shirt with the urgency to eliminate every inch of distance between our lips. Wednesday sighed against my lips and tilted her head. With my tongue, I tapped her lower lip, shivering with pleasure as I felt the goth opening her mouth, letting me in.

Wednesday's hands tightened on my shirt, and then she pushed me away from her. I blinked incredulously, my eyes seeing her lips swollen from the kiss.

"What did you do to me? I like it," she said with confusion, pure panic in her eyes. "Nothing... maybe... you like me?" I asked rhetorically, and Wednesday turned her head abruptly in my direction.

"I don't feel anything beyond horror, disgust, and annoyance," she apologized, her tone completely irritated and cold. "I don't know, Wed..." I said tiredly as I looked at the goth. "I feel like insects are crawling on my stomach," she added, and I sighed at her words.

I quickly took her chin and kissed her abruptly, Wednesday sighing at the contact. "Do you like it when I kiss you?" I asked with curiosity, my heart beating recklessly. "Yes..." she affirmed coldly.

Wednesday leaned in, and our lips joined again. "And I want to do it again, your lips are delicious... and I want more," she confessed calmly, my cheeks blushing at her words.

"Do you like being with me? Does it bother you if I'm around you?" I asked with curiosity.

"Sometimes," she murmured weakly, her eyes looking at mine with concern.

"If I touch you..." I started, my hand resting on her arm, her muscles tensing at the contact. My fingers slid down her forearm, and Wednesday gradually relaxed, sighing as my fingers intertwined with hers.

"Does it bother you?" I concluded, and Wednesday shook her head.

"Do you like contact in general? Like, if Enid hugs you?" Wednesday raised an eyebrow with confusion and shivered at the thought, her lips curling in disgust.

"No," she confessed and tightened her grip on my hand.

"If I hug Yoko... does it bother you?" I asked, my eyes looking at the goth hopefully.

Wednesday Addams looked at me irritably and nodded.

"So, you're jealous," I said, smiling widely, and Wednesday looked at me with confusion.

"No, jealousy is for relationships," she confessed, and I sighed with frustration.

"All right... I've done the analysis... if you don't want to accept it, it's your problem," I got up from the mattress and walked towards the entrance of her room.

"Y/n," I turned at the sound of her monotonous voice and looked at her expectantly. "Can we keep kissing?" she asked innocently, her eyes looking at me with curiosity. A part of me wanted to refuse because I knew it would be my downfall, and I would suffer a lot, but my heart ardently desired contact with the goth.

"Okay," I said, smiling bitterly, and Wednesday nodded satisfactorily. "Can we do it... slowly? It's hard to assimilate," she continued, and I looked at her with surprise and confusion. "Slowly? Does that mean..." I started incredulously, a smile plastered on my lips.

"I want to discover my feelings with you," she confessed, and her eyes sparkled in a strange way, a dark desire mixing with her brown irises. "You're mine," she concluded, and my heart skipped a beat.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #miércoles addams #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday x y/n #wednsday addams #proposal #addams family #the addams family #curious

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 months

Text

littlest lion ~ oberyn martell;game of thrones

word count: 3182

request?: no

description: after witnessing the littlest lion sibling’s abuse at the hands of her queen sister, he decides that not all lannisters are as terrible as he once thought

pairing: oberyn martell x female!reader

warnings: swearing, verbal abuse (it’s cersei so...not surprisingly), much use of y/n, a little bit of a re-write on the canon of got to say that tywin had a second wife and another child so that it makes sense for the reader to be the youngest lannister

masterlist (one, two, three)

Everyone in all of Westeros knew the Lannister siblings to be cunning and pretentious. For the most part, those assumptions were right. Cersei and Jamie were definitely both of those things - Cersei more so than her twin brother - and Tyrion’s general distaste and apathy for everything could be misinterpreted as pretentious.

But then there was their youngest half sister, (YN).

Born to Tywin and his second wife after the death of his first, (Y/N) Lannister was the complete opposite to her older siblings. She was kind and shy, which often resulted in a verbal lashing from Cersei. Tyrion was indifferent to (Y/N), but treated her nice enough. Jamie just ignored her unless he was with Cersei. Cersei despised her sister with every fiber of her being. She never wasted a breath to inform (Y/N) that she wasn’t a real Lannister, despite her being a true born to Tywin.

She tried to pretend like Cersei’s words didn’t affect her. It would only result in more taunting if she did. But (Y/N) had spent countless nights in her chambers sobbing over whatever Cersei had said to her that day. She dreamed of the day she would be able to leave her sister’s kingdom (although technically it was her son, Joffrey’s, but everyone knew Cersei was the true leader), but it felt like that day would never come. (Y/N) was well into her adulthood with no prospects of getting married. It didn’t help that Tywin hadn’t arranged a suitor for her in her younger years, and now that Joffrey was king the task fell to him and Cersei, but Cersei would not approve of any suitors for her sister.

“She needs someone to bully,” Tyrion had told (Y/N) once. “The only way you will ever marry is if you manage to find someone who will take you away.”

(Y/N) hoped that Joffrey’s marriage would bring Cersei enough joy that she would not think to be cruel to her. (Y/N) made herself unseen to Cersei as much as possible while the wedding was happening, unless she was called upon.

Unfortunately for her, Cersei still found reason to call upon her.

(Y/N) entered the throne room where Cersei was speaking with Joffrey. She curtsied, waiting for the two to notice her. She was sure Cersei was intentionally keeping Joffrey’s attention when her legs began to shake, threatening to collapse from under her.

“You may rise, aunt,” Joffrey finally said.

(Y/N) stood straight. “Your grace, you summoned me?”

“Upon my mother’s request,” Joffrey confirmed. “She wishes to speak with you in regards to my wedding day.”

(Y/N) tried to keep her expression neutral as she turned to Cersei. “What can I do for you, sister?”

“Don’t call me that,” Cersei hissed.

“I apologize, my lady.”

“I called you here to ask what you intend to wear to the king’s wedding.”

(Y/N) blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Have you become hard of hearing? What do you intend to wear to your king’s wedding?” She enunciated each word as if (Y/N) were a child. Joffrey was smirking from his throne. He reveled in his mother’s cruelty just as he reveled in his own.

“I...I suppose a gown from my wardrobe,” (Y/N) said.

Cersei scoffed. “Please, your wardrobe is so common. It would be humiliating for you to show up like that.”

A lump began to form in (Y/N)’s throat, but she tried to swallow it down. “I have no other options, though, and the wedding is in a matter of days.”

“I’ll have to get my seamstress to work on a more appropriate gown for you then,” Cersei sighed.

(Y/N) felt a heavy pit in her stomach. It was starting to make sense why Cersei had called her here. It wasn’t truly to figure out suitable wear for the wedding. It was so Cersei could once again humiliate (Y/N). She had no doubts that her sister would have her seamstress make the most hideous dress for (Y/N) to wear to the wedding. It would be an embarrassment for (Y/N), and it would mean it would be less likely for any potential suitors to show interest in her.

Tears were welling in her eyes. She was trying to fight them back, but it was a losing battle. “May I be excused, your grace?”

Joffrey glanced at his mother. She sighed and turned away, so he waved (Y/N) off. As she began to leave, she heard Cersei tell her son, “What a pathetic woman.”

(Y/N) all but ran from the throne room. She hurried out the doors of the castle into the palace’s garden as her tears finally began to fall. Her body was wracked with sobs as she fell onto the nearest bench. She felt so struck and so helpless. She would never get out of Cersei’s clutches as long as she lived, and there was no one in the world who could save her.

“I wonder what it is that causes a lion to cry.”

(Y/N) jumped at the sound of a voice. She looked up to see a handsome man in a yellow robe stood in front of her.

“Apologies,” she said, quickly wiping the tears from her face. “I was no aware that there was anyone else here.”

“No need for apologies. This is your home, you are allowed to cry anywhere you wish.” He sat next to her, looking at her as if studying her. “But the question still stands: what makes a lion cry?”

“You know who I am.”

It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyways, “Everyone in all of Westeros knows who the Lannisters are. Even if I didn’t, your golden hair would have been a clue.”

(Y/N) had to break their eye contact because this handsome man was intimidating her. Not in a bad way. His looks were just making her feel tongue tied.

“It was nothing,” she said. “I apologize for disturbing your peace.”

“The little lion is surprising,” he commented. “She cries, she apologies. Very un-Lannister.”

“I am no Lannister. At least, not to my own siblings.”

A look of realization passed his face. “I believe I am starting to understand.”

Tears were forming in her eyes again. She couldn’t cry in front of this stranger. Not again. It was bad enough that he had already caught her once. Cersei would have her head if she found out that (Y/N) was making the family name seem weak.

“Would you like to go for a walk, little lion?” he asked.

His voice was quiet and soothing. If she didn’t know any better, (Y/N) would’ve thought he was mocking her. But one look told her he was being genuine. A walk through the garden definitely sounded like a good idea.

He offered her his arm and she took it. As they stood, he told her, “My name is Oberyn Martell, brother of Doran Martell.”

“The Prince of Doran,” (Y/N) said.

Oberyn smiled. “You know of my family too, then.”

“One must know all the families of Westeros, as not to let down their guard,” (Y/N) recited. “Or to not make a fool.”

She could see Oberyn look at her, but she wouldn't dare look back at him. Instead, she changed the subject, “You must be here for my nephew’s wedding.”

“I am. My brother was invited, but he was very busy, so I am taking his lace.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy your stay then.”

“I am already enjoying it.”

(Y/N) smiled, her face burning from the compliment.

She showed Oberyn around the garden, the two of them trading stories and getting to know each other. For a brief moment, (Y/N) was able to forget about everything. It was a brief moment of happiness and feeling like she was actually wanted.

They came to stand at a perch that overlooked the kingdom. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden he over everything. (Y/N) was acutely aware of Oberyn’s hand brushing against her own, but was trying not to focus too much on it. Oberyn’s presence was starting to make her feel dizzy, but not in a bad way. It was an intoxicating feeling. She never wanted it to end, but at the same time she was worried about making a fool of herself in front of him.

“This visit has already brought many surprises for me,” Oberyn said.

“How so?” (Y/N) asked.

“For one, I have found that not all Lannisters are as terrible as their reputation would have it. And two, I am finding myself enjoying time with a Lannister.”

He lifted her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. She drew in a shakey breath at the action. Oberyn’s deep brown eyes were watching her again. She hoped her legs would not give out from underneath her as she felt them growing weak.

“I have been enjoying my time with you as well, my Lord,” she said.

“Please, call me Oberyn. I am but a second son, not a Lord. Besides, I do not intend for these formalities between us to last long.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You are ambitious.”

“I am a man who knows what he wants, and it is seldom that I do not get what it is that I want.”

Her heart was beating so fast she thought she may pass out, or that Oberyn may hear it. She had never had a man tell her that he wanted her, and she realized she had never wanted someone so much either. In just a short period of time, Oberyn had managed to completely steal her heart. There was nothing in the world that could ruin this moment, or this connection.

What she didn’t realize was that her sister was watching the two of them from inside the castle.

~~~~~~

The sun was nearly completely set when Oberyn and (Y/N) finally parted ways. He had kissed her hand once more and told her he would come looking for her the next day. (Y/N) was so lightheaded that she practically floated back to her room. She was just about to enter her chambers when a voice asked, “Did you have a good evening with the Dornish prince?”

She turned quickly to see Cersei stood at the end of the long hall. Suddenly, everything came crashing back down to Earth around her.

“He is very lovely,” she responded. “I apologize that he kept me for so long. I did not intend to miss out on dinner.”

“It was lovely without you.”

(Y/N) winced. She put her hand back on her door, intending to escape into her room and hopefully salvage whatever good feelings she could from her time with Oberyn.

“I know you are not wise, (Y/N), but I truly hope you are not stupid enough to fall for Oberyn Martell.”

(Y/N) looked at her sister in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that he is not a man who settles for one woman. Everyone knows that he will fuck anything that walks - man or woman. He was already visiting the brothel here before his arrival.”

Her breathing began to increase. “I...I didn’t...”

“Oh my word,” Cersei breathed. “You have fallen for him, haven’t you?”

The tears were forming again. (Y/N) quickly blinked them away so that Cersei wouldn’t see. “He was treated me as if I was an actual person. That is more than I can say for anyone in this castle. I apologize if it makes me stupid because I was happy to feel wanted for once in my life.”

“He only made you feel that way so he could take your maidenhood,” Cersei retorted. “He will not make you a wife, he will make you a whore. And then he will return to Dorne while you are here, weeping over his departure even though you were the fool who fell for him. It will be left to me to pick up the pieces he left behind.”

Cersei was shaking her head as she turned to leave. (Y/N) was hoping that she could finally escape her sister’s cruelty for the night, but then Cersei paused to add, “I mean, really, (Y/N). Why would a prince of all people want to marry someone like you? The last born child, from a second marriage, who has not been wed by the time she reached her maturing age? You are pathetic.”

(Y/N) didn’t wait for Cersei to leave. She shoved into her room and slammed the door shut. Her tears began to fall before the door was fully closed. She didn’t even have the strength to make it to her bed this time. She collapsed into a heap against the door, burying her head in her skirts as she began to sob.

How could she be such a fool? How could she let herself believe that she had finally found someone who wanted her? That she might just escape from Cersei once and for all? What Cersei had said may have been cruel, but (Y/N) knew there must be some truth behind the words. There was nothing remarkable about (Y/N) that would draw in the attention of someone like Oberyn, unless he just wanted to try and get into her bed. He saw her at her weakest and he preyed on that, the same way that Cersei always had.

“Stupid,” (Y/N) whispered to herself through her tears. “You are stupid.”

A knock came at the door.

“Go away!” (Y/N) called through her tears. She wasn’t in the mood for anyone to see her like this, or to have to be humiliated further.

“It is me, little lion.”

She paused. How had he found her room? Why had he come for her? Surely he wasn’t about to try to get into her bed already.

Against her better judgement, she stood and opened the door. When he saw her tearstained face, Oberyn’s expression filled with sadness. He reached for her, and she allowed him to pull her into his embrace.

“I am so sorry you are treated this way,” he said.

“Did you hear?” she asked.

He nodded. “I will admit, I followed you once we had separated. I wanted to see if you would be intercepted by either of your siblings before you reached your room. I saw the Queen Regent approaching, so I kept a distance to hear what she would say to you.”

“Then you heard what she told me about you.”

(Y/N) pulled away from Oberyn. She knew she shouldn’t listen to anything Cersei said, but she couldn’t help that her sister’s words had once against gotten to her.

“I did,” Oberyn confirmed.

“And is it true?”

“It is true that I went to a brothel before I arrived at the castle. It is true that I enjoy intimacy from anyone who is willing to give it to me, regardless of gender. But it is not true that I was only kind to you to try and take your maidenhood. What I said in the garden, I meant it.”

“Why?” (Y/N) asked. “Why would you want me? Out of all the beautiful women that I am sure you have seen, both noble and not, why is it me that you desire for?”

He cupped her face. He wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumbs as he looked down at her. “Because I believe you to be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

(Y/N) scoffed, but Oberyn said, “It is true. From the moment I saw you in the garden, weeping over what I am sure was another verbal lashing from your sister, I was taken by your beauty. You are a beautiful woman, both inside and out. I am completely taken by you, (Y/N), and it upsets me greatly that you are made to think that you do not deserve that kind of love.”

She wanted to be happy by what Oberyn was saying. She did believe him. She could see the sincerity in his eyes. But knowing that Oberyn was taken by her that much just made her heart ache more, because she knew that they would never be allowed to be together.

“Cersei will never approve,” she said. “She will not let me marry and escape this place. If you show any interest in me, or voice that you want me to be your wife, she will deny it.”

“Then I will take you away from here.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

Oberyn looked over his shoulder to be sure no one was around. (Y/N) stepped back into her room and motioned for him to follow. She closed her door, giving them some privacy to speak freely.

“She cannot stop me if I take you before she realizes you are gone,” he said. “We can leave after the king’s wedding and return to Dorne immediately. She cannot stop you once you’ve already gone, and if she tries then you will have an army of Dornish men waiting to defend you. Myself included.”

“How will we get my things out of here before she can stop us?” (Y/N) asked, glancing around her room.

“Pack what is essential,” Oberyn told her. “Just one bag of essential things. Whatever you cannot fit I will replace once we return to Dorne. We can put it in my carriage before the wedding, and once it all ends we will leave immediately. I did not intend to stay long after the ceremony anyways, so it will not seem suspicious if I take my leave so quickly.”

Tyrion’s words were playing in (Y/N)’s head. “The only way you will ever marry is if you manage to find someone who will take you away.” She had thought for so long that it was an unreachable desire to find someone who would want to take her away. She almost wanted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming.

“You would really do that for me?” she asked.

“Of course I would, my little lion,” he said. “You do not deserve the life that you are living here. Even if you do not want me, I will still take you away and let you live a happier life.”

“I want you,” she whispered, almost worried that saying it out loud would make everything fall apart.

But Oberyn heard her, and he smiled. “When we are in Dorne, I will court you as I should, then I will make you my wife.”

(Y/N) couldn’t find the words to say how much she wanted that. She just smiled, then leaned into Oberyn’s embrace. She mentally counted the days until she could be free from her prison, but then decided not to think of how long till it would happen. Instead, she focused on what she was going to have after she had finally gotten out of there.

Oberyn.

#Oberyn Martell #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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