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star-girl69 · 5 months

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Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.

a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey

******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT

warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.

And unknown places scare you.

There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.

You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.

You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.

It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.

She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.

“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.

You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.

Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.

That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.

She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.

As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”

Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”

You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.

“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.

“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.

Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.

“We have a mission for the two of you.”

“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”

The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.

Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.

“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.

Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”

Chiron presses his lips together.

“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.

“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”

Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.

Clarisse looks at you.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”

—-

“Y/N.”

You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.

Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.

But, Chiron needed to like you too.

You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.

It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.

She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.

She smiles.

“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”

“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.

If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.

And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.

Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.

“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”

Her face hardens.

“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”

You rip your hand away from her grip.

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”

“You’re crazy!”

—-

You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.

She looks up from her book and laughs.

“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.

“Mission,” you groan.

She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”

“With Clarisse.”

She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.

As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.

She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.

“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

You put your lips right up to her ear.

“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”

“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”

“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”

“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”

“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”

She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.

She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.

The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.

You put your hand on her face.

“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”

What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?

You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.

Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.

And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.

She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.

She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.

You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.

She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.

You look into Marley’s eyes now.

“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”

Marley kisses your cheek.

“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”

“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.

Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.

You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.

—-

The bus ride is boring.

Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.

But you’re bored.

You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.

It’s only been two months.

As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.

You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.

You miss her.

“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.

“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”

“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”

“What?”

Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.

“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”

“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”

She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.

She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.

But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.

“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.

—-

You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.

Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.

You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.

“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”

You realize your head is on her shoulder.

You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.

“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.

You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.

She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.

She’s right up in your ear.

“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”

The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.

You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.

“I’d kill it.”

You both know you probably couldn’t.

She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”

Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.

She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.

She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.

“Hm, mine.”

You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.

You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?

It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.

You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”

Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.

—-

You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.

“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.

You can want her, here, where no one will know.

You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.

The station is oddly busy.

You have this horribly uneasy feeling.

You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.

She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.

You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.

But you trust yourself.

“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.

She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.

She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.

“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”

“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.

Why is she so fucking confusing?

As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?

She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.

You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.

“Clarisse.”

She seems to see it too.

“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.

She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”

When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.

You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.

Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.

The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.

You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.

It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.

That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.

The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.

Something slams against the door.

You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.

“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.

The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.

It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.

“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.

“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.

Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.

You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”

It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.

The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-

Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.

It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.

It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.

You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.

She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-

You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.

No one would know.

Her spear falls to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.

No one would know.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”

“No problem,” she says.

No one would know.

“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.

“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.

It’s so simple.

You both can get what you want from this trip.

“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”

“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.

You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.

You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.

You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.

No one else will ever come close.

“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”

She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.

—-

The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.

Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.

How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?

You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.

She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

—-

The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.

You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.

When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.

“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.

You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.

“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.

—-

The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.

“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.

“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.

Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.

Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.

You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.

“On your left!”

Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.

Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.

She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.

“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.

“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.

“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”

Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.

Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.

“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”

“Yeah, okay.”

—-

Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.

“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.

You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”

She stares at you for a moment.

“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.

Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.

Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.

“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.

It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.

“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”

She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.

“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.

“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.

She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.

“What are you thinking of getting?”

She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”

You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”

She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.

“What was that?”

She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.

You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.

Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.

“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”

You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.

You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.

“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.

“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”

“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”

“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”

The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.

“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”

“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”

You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.

You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.

“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.

—-

“Clarisse.”

She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.

“Clarisse,” you repeat.

She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.

“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”

“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”

“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.

—-

Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.

You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.

You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.

You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.

You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.

It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.

You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”

She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.

“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.

“Don’t be mean.”

You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.

“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.

You whip around and point your finger at her.

“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”

Her smile falls.

“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”

Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.

—-

When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.

You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.

“Y/N.”

You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.

“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”

You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.

Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.

“A toy?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breathe hitches.

“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”

She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.

“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“I want you to let me love you.”

She lets go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”

“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.

“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”

You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”

“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”

You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.

But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.

She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.

Your fingers dig into her back.

“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.

—-

“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.

Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.

You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.

Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.

It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.

You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.

Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.

You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.

He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.

“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.

Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”

Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.

Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.

Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.

—-

marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.

clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟

—-

clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO

—-

honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n

another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk @lacytalks

—-

pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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withahappyrefrain · 10 months

Note

I’m just *know* peter is the kind of guy to pound into you before giving you the softest most gentle kiss

He absolutely is! 18+! We have some size kink because I'm a basic bitch.

"Peter." Your voice was barely above a whisper, strained and desperate. Hands clutched his dark locks, tangling yourself further with him.

"I'm right here ladybug," His words did little to soothe the throbbing ache between your legs. You needed him, all of him.

"Please." You try to cant your hips upwards, in a pathetic attempt to get more of him. And he knew exactly what you were trying to do, able to hold your hips down to the mattress.

"Just gotta ease in ya, 'kay?" A whine escaped your lips upon feeling his cock sink further into you. It felt so good and yet still not enough.

Peter pressed a kiss to your collarbone, "I know, doing so good for me. Taking me so well."

He was always gentle when it had been awhile since you two were intimate. Insisted on easing into you, getting you reacquainted with the sheer size of him.

Whines became all out groans as he bottomed out. Back arching in pleasure, you threw your head back as you reveled in the fullness you now felt.

"Feel so fucking good bug," Peter groans into your skin, feeling practically drunk off your scent.

"I-Peter-fuck." Your head is too busy spinning from how divine it feels when his cock brushes against that one spot.

Peter can't help but let out a chuckle, the corners of his eyes slightly creasing, "Already bug? I just started."

"Oh fuck off," the last word goes from intelligible to babble due to Peter finally increasing the pace of his thrusts.

All you could do was cling onto him as your body was submerged in total pleasure. It felt amazing to be full of him once more, to be consumed by only him. The scent of cinnamon was filling your nostrils, your fingers could feel every scar and mark on his body.

He pushed himself off of you, ignoring your whines as he sat up.

"Peter-"

"Just trust me bug."

That wasn't hard. You trusted him with your whole heart, with every fiber of your being.

His large calloused hands wrapped themselves around each of your ankles, bringing your legs up to his shoulders.

"Pete-oh!"

The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper. Your fingers quickly found the bedsheets, grasping the fabric as your body was entirely at his mercy.

"You're s'pretty like this bug. All spread out just for me."

Heat flooded your body from his words. You could feel his honeyed eyes on you, taking in the way your breasts bounced with every thrust.

"Fuck, l-ladybug," Peter's voice faltered as your tight walls clenched his cock.

"P-Peter," you could barely get out his name. All you could focus on was how his cock perfectly found the spot that was making you start to see stars. You were on your way, given the way your thighs began to shake, the way the coil in your stomach was whining up.

"Whatcha need bug? C'mon, use your words, you can do it."

You whined, a hand trailing past your breasts to where your body and Peter's connected.

He moved your hand away from your body, replacing it with his own. Fingers far thicker than your own, calloused from years of hard work, found your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle.

"That's what ya needed, huh? Your poor little clit, I'm sorry bug."

"Th-thank you- fuck!" The last word was screamed, your release hitting you like a freight train. Peter didn't relinquish his intense thrusting, continuing with his ministrations to help you ride out your high.

It felt like you were falling, white hot pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes fluttered closed, seeing stars as you rode out the wave.

Peter watched you carefully, looking out for any signs of you coming down from your high. Once the loud moans had turned into whimpers, he gently placed your legs down, bending down so his chest hovered over yours.

"Bug?" You felt his thumb stroking your cheek. Upon opening your eyes, you found Peter, his face inches away from yours.

"There she is, my ladybug," He said gently before pressing a kiss to your forehead, "C'mere."

His arms wrapped themselves around your waist, helping you sit up as he pulled you into his lap.

"You okay?" He asked. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath.

"Good." His fingers hooked themselves under your chin, allowing him to tilt your head up.

His lips met yours, gently pressing against yours. His kisses were warm and comforting, always making you feel safe and loved. This particular one was soft, a stark contrast from moments ago.

"You did such a good job ladybug," His lips moved from yours to your cheek, peppering your skin, "You wanna keep going or do you want to take a break?"

"Can we take a break? I want you to come but I need time-"

"We have all the time in the world bug."

#my writing #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tasm peter x reader #andrew peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker smut #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker

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charlotteking23 · 5 months

Text

Chat Noir Headcanons

This kitty won't be afraid to show PDA in public or private.

cuddling, holding hands, and lots of kisses are expected anytime you two are together

loves to show off in front of you

like if he's fighting an akumantized villain he will show off his muscles.

loves telling cat puns, That was PURRfect wouldn't you say? but he especially likes it if you join along, You cat to be kitten me right meow 😒. ( insert heart eyes from chat noir 😍)

he would protect you from any danger including any guys.

jealous type

would sneak into your room by your window just to see you but he only comes at night usually.

you probably wouldn't know his identity for he would want to remain a secret but we all know it didn't take that long to figure out who he was behind the mask.

Chat would take you on dates at night to see the Eiffel Tower at its highest point, or he would use his baton to carry him and you to a random rooftop, talking about random things.

his favorite date spot is your balcony just you and him talking in the night sky (so beautiful).

you would start making a chat noir blog, it highlights chat noir as a hero and partner to ladybug not just a sidekick.

it blows up with 2.5 million followers and Alya is jealous that her ladyblog doesn't have that many followers.

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h00nerz · 1 year

Text

spots on!

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader (+ second lead mark lee)

genre: comedy, fluff, superhero!au, non idol!au, college!au, some angst, ladybug!reader, chat noir!yeonjun

summary: by day, you’re a regular college student who’s just trying to get her assignments done on time and get your oblivious crush to wake up and finally notice you. but by night, you’re a superhero protecting the city from evil alongside your extremely annoying partner who is obviously infatuated with you. you were great at fighting crime, and always two steps ahead of your enemies. which is why you can’t believe you didn’t see your crush being the man underneath your partner’s mask coming.

characters: txt, stayc’s sieun, skz’s jeongin, nct’s mark, enhypen’s heeseung, choi yena, jo yuri and lots more.

status: complete

warnings: profanity, kys jokes,

* some links are broken, use 🐞.spotson tag to read!

profiles

01 — doughnut enthusiasts

02 — chat noir support group

03 — extra

table of contents

preview

01 — Baby Bread

02 — abuse deez nutz

03 — jypu education

04 — no it’s jungkook

05 — ladyflop

06 — friends already

07 — i’m gonna throw up on yeonjun

08 — hi yeonjun! (written 2.8k)

09 — *beomgyu left the gc*

10 — a chance

11 — /j… /hj

12 — all part of the process

13 — potato tomato

14 — i’m iceland

15 — stress

16 — kitkats

17 — exclusive relationship

18 — strawberries and honey (written 1.9k +smau)

19 — hey cutie

20 — it’s not CRAZY

21 — pretend babies

22 — heeseung empath era

23 — flowers (written 2.6k)

24 — captain of y/n defense

25 — losing the idgaf war

26 — you’re a clingy cat!

27 — that soobin guy is cute

28 — you’re dating chat noir!

29 — wooden shoe

30 — i know

31 — Kang Taehyun mr smart guy

32 — Choi Yena.

33 — exclusive dongshik drop off

34 — maybe okay will be our always

35 — i’m not lying (written 1.6k)

36 — girls only

37 — well yes!

38 — i should have known (written 4.5k + smau)

39 — respect the vote.

40 — can we talk?

41 — finally

42 — a little bit (written 1.9k + smau)

43 — just lost a follower!

44 — fever dream

45 — soft launching

epilogue

tag list (closed)

@therealhyunjingf @jakeshands @impureperhaps @mazeinthemoon @tyunlatte @loveliii @ningswings222 @exohclipse @17szn @txtbrainrot @bubblytaetae @qluvrv @serafilms @luvlyjay @iirene304 @snowfalltxt @choistick @lost-leopard-beanie @taekwondoes @captivq @aestheticsluut @surshica @suburbiataehyung @cecedrake2217 @omiomipepperoni @ttyunz @stellz581 @dearkamal @cher-bears @hochipochi @eggomi @rikismiel @vianna99 @certainyouthpeanut @cookiehaos @90sni-ki @http-gyu @iad0ru @viagumi @reverbtunes @fatoompie @ka143 @sserafimez @cathaerin @ahnneyong @cutiespaghetti @wonioml @emohazuzworld @taylvvrr @cowsmicwu

authors note: yeah we doing a miraculous ladybug au 😍 idk how silly it is it’s gonna be fun and that’s all that matters!

#🐞.spotson #yeonjun smau #choi yeonjun smau #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #txt yeonjun #yeonjun imagine #choi yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun imagine #txt smau #txt imagine #txt x reader #tomorrow x together #kpop imagine #kpop x reader #kpop smau

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thesunisatangerine · 7 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part eight

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.2k

words in italics: whatever language you like

“Make sure you stick close to your uncle the entire time and remember: if you don’t feel well or if, at any point, you want to leave, just tell Uncle Robert and he’ll get you out of there, okay?”

Elisa nodded as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Alright. Put on your headphones and follow your uncle.”

“Follow.” Elisa pronounced the word slowly, before she continued in English, “you said it wrong, Mom. You say it like this.”

Then she repeated the word again.

You smiled, nodded before you repeated the word for her. “Got it. Thanks, ladybug. Now go, I’ll catch you guys later.”

Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, you hugged Elisa one last time and placed a kiss on the top of her head before you let her go. She bounded to where Robert was standing, gave you one last enthusiastic wave, then you watched as they began to walk off to the direction of their seats.

Now that you were alone, faced with the corridor that lead down to the pitch, you took a deep breath, exhaled, and then with leaden legs you began to walk.

To say that you were nervous was an understatement; you were absolutely terrified. Not only because this was you first coverage after… after the last one, but also due to the fact that this would be the first time you were going to see Alexia in person since the night you left.

Alexia wouldn’t recognise you–no, she wouldn’t even know you were here–you saw to it. You asked Derek to register you under Jersey’s name because the client was none other than Alexia’s agent, a request that earned you a dirty look from Derek but he indulged you anyway. And as a precaution, you made sure to wear a face mask–an accessory that was met by a knowing, raised brow from Robert and a worried, ‘Are you sick, Mom?’ from Elisa–not to mention that your hair now was different compared to then.

No. Alexia wouldn’t recognise you; you were, after all, only a face among the many that adored her.

You kept walking, shielding your eyes from the brilliant stadium lights as you stepped foot on the grass.

Fifteen months. What good did that time do you? Just the mere thought of Alexia’s eyes suffused you with such burning ardour that neither a kiss nor touch from another could come close to her–there simply was no competition. You couldn’t even let another touch you the way she did because the act of kissing another’s lips was enough to incite guilt in you.

But why? How could Alexia still have this much hold over you after all this time? Was it because this was the first time you felt something deeper for someone, something that transcended the physical aspect of a relationship? Or was it the fact that the moment you let yourself be vulnerable, almost offered yourself completely, everything came crashing down? And now, you found yourself hung up on someone who had clearly moved on.

But, a small part of you reasoned, if Alexia had truly moved on, why still try to commission you? Why would she want you around? Maybe she… No. You shook your head firmly. That wasn’t possible.

Pain throbbed in your foot as it collided with the sponsor board that lined the spot you picked, earning you a few concerned glances from the nearby photographers who were already there. You cursed internally, dropping your bag to the ground, as you offered the others a sheepish smile and an apology. The pain brought you back to reality though, a reminder that you needed to get your mind out of the gutter and that you had a job to do.

You had weeks to prepare yourself for this. Everything would be okay. How hard could this be, really?

An hour passed and the stadium was filled to the brim with Spanish red and Brazilian yellow to witness the first match of each team for this tournament. Each nation’s supporters clapped and roared when the players began to run out to the pitch. And all the mental preparation you’d done for this left you completely.

The moment she stepped out of that tunnel and the stadium lights shone down on her, it felt like you only learnt how to breathe again. There Alexia stood: the slope of her shoulder familiar, the strength carved in the curves of her back looked stronger, and the lines of her arms just as inviting as they were the first time you met.

And those eyes, even if there were meters between you the weight in them–that low, burning fire–was all too apparent from where you stood.

Despite yourself, you found yourself smiling beneath your mask. She looked healthy; happy.

As the starting whistle breached through the chants of the crowd and resounded through the arena, you found yourself content–content at being an spectator of Alexia’s life, to watch her shine from afar, that was enough.

Parc des Princes. Sweden vs. Spain: The Clash of the Titans.

Not even two hours before kickoff and a significant crowd had already gathered by the entrance points of the stadium donning their respective supporter colours. It was no surprise to see such numbers very early on this fine Saturday evening because ever since the results from the dramatic Semi-Finals that saw Sweden and Spain through to the Finals, it was the talk of the town: the World’s Number One against the World Champions; both formidable in their own rights made them titans indeed.

And the question of who would emerge victorious would be answered tonight.

You saw firsthand how Spain brazenly blazed through this competition, knocking out their tougher competitions in the form of Germany and Japan in the Quarters and the Semis respectively in a similar fashion. They were a force to be reckoned with driven by their purpose and it made you more than proud to see how far they’d come.

Though it had been difficult you managed to remain undetected throughout the length of this tournament, something that you were truly grateful for. And after tonight, you could as easily slip out of Alexia’s world just as you had seamlessly gone in for the last time. The last thing you wanted to do was to jeopardise Spain’s chance at winning no matter how little an impact your presence would cause if you were discovered by Alexia.

But the thing was, you couldn’t lie and say you felt nothing as you watched Alexia from afar because you did: all the regret and desire… the longing; they were all there with you. More than once you found yourself wanting to run into her arms, to tell her you missed her, to let her know she saved you, to tell her… But you knew in your heart that that couldn’t be, so you allowed yourself this brief luxury, this silent, intimate appraisal of what and who she’d grown into even if she herself didn’t know it–you captured it all and to you that was more than enough.

As for Elisa she was nothing but ecstatic, a bundle of energy through and through. If you were being honest, you had doubted your decision to bring her with you because you didn’t know how being surrounded with tens of thousands of people would affect her even though she’d told you multiple times she could manage it. But to your relief, Elisa had immersed herself in the sport, blanketed herself in its atmosphere and in fact, she seemed to thrive in it. On the way home after each of Spain’s match you went to, Elisa would recount in vivid clarity all the instances she deemed to be highlights of the match–of course most of them were about Alexia which wasn’t a surprise considering how much she meant to her.

Elisa was enjoying herself and that, truly, brought you immense joy and comfort. She never asked you for it but you knew how Elisa badly wished to meet her inspiration, her and Robert had tried at the end of each match to stick around to meet her but so far, they had no luck.

No, Elisa never asked for you to do anything about it but that didn’t mean you couldn't try. You couldn’t quite think of how to go about it just yet but seeing as how the match before your eyes was the last, you knew your time to decide was beginning to run out.

The thing about football was that it was unpredictable, one minute it could be going your way, the next it could be the opponent’s; nothing was set in stone and anything could happen.

It was nearing the forty-minute mark, the scoreline was still down at all nil, when Aitana sent the ball lobbing from the middle, just at the edge of the penalty box, into one of Sweden’s goalposts for Alexia who’d already made her surge forwards. In response, Zećira Mušović dove for the nearest post, just about managing to grab the ball as it landed a few paces in front of Alexia’s feet but the ball went out of play as it slipped from her grip. Alexia was going too fast though and your heart jumped in your chest with worry as Alexia leaped over Mušović’s prone form, barely avoiding a collision with the Swedish goalkeeper, before she ended up slamming against the sponsor board and–

Suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs as your back slammed to the ground and the back of your head throbbed with a dull ache that made you groan. And then you felt the warm weight pressed against you, dangerously familiar and way too close for comfort but it was gone before you could open your eyes. When you did you found honey-coloured eyes that you knew all too well as Alexia regarded you with concern.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Alexia asked, her ragged breathing made her accent all the more pronounced, and she took both of your hands in hers to help you to your feet. You tried hard not to think about the warmth of her palms on your skin–in fact, you hardly had any thoughts at all–and your throat was so parched you could only nod at her question.

Only once you got back on your feet did you notice Alexia had gone stock still. The sudden change in her demeanour worried you at first, especially when she hadn’t let go of your hands yet, and then confusion settled in. That was when you realised her attention was zeroed in on the string around your right wrist… at the bracelet she made you, the one you couldn’t bear yourself to part with.

Your eyes widened and you snatched your hands back, shielding your wrist from view with your other hand but you knew it was already too late. Alexia now looked at you, the concern in her gaze now shone together with… something else, eyes red as unshed tears clung to her lashes.

“You…” Alexia’s voice low–restrained–as her throat bobbed and her chin quivered.

The sound of the whistle barely registered in your mind and Alexia looked like she hadn’t heard it too, her eyes remained glued to you as if she’d seen a ghost. Then Aitana was by her side, hand around her arm as Aitana attempted to tug her back into the game but she just wouldn’t budge. Aitana regarded you briefly, the clear confusion in her eyes difficult to miss, before she tried to coax her captain away again.

“Alexia. Go.” You said as you gently pushed Alexia away with a hand on her stomach. She flinched from your touch–and her reaction really shouldn’t hurt this much but it did anyway–so you quickly retracted your hand away. Only after that did Alexia finally let herself be pulled away by Aitana but not without staring at you as she went.

This was bad. Out of all the times that this could happen, why now?

You picked up your camera, the fact that it was intact offered you little comfort, and the urge to run away pervaded you. You so desperately wanted to pack everything and leave, allow Elisa to enjoy the match and maybe just sit this one out in the crowd with her. Alexia didn’t need to know.

The thought was tempting.

But with clenched fists, you stayed.

A moment later, the Swedish supporters roared when Spain conceded a goal during extra time which left them now down to one goal. Spain still had enough time to try and equalise, and their chance was given in the form of a penalty.

Alexia stepped up but Mušović denied her a goal and your heart ached from the way Alexia shook her head, dejected as she looked up at the sky.

The halftime whistle blew and you watched as the players walked towards the tunnel entrance but, your eyes widened when you saw her, Alexia was making her way towards you, stride long and with purpose. Her face was neutral but the way her lips was pressed in a thin line revealed that she was anything but calm.

Oh, fuck.

You didn’t even have time to compose yourself–or do anything, really–because before you knew it, Alexia had leaped over the sponsor board, gripped the monopod with your camera and ripped it away from your hand. A protest left your lips but it was quickly cut off when you felt her other arm around your waist, pulling you to her with a strength that left you breathless. And when you felt her front pressed firmly against your own and her warmth immediately seeped into your bones, everything melted away–the flutter of camera shutters, the roar of the crowd–your world became Alexia entirely.

Everything just fell rightly into place. It felt like coming home.

Alexia didn’t say anything, just craned her neck so she could rest her head against your shoulder. At first you were frozen, your arms still and left hanging by your side, but as you felt the way Alexia’s ribs expand and the way her heartbeat jumped through her jersey, you came back to yourself and finally, you slid your arms around her, your hands immediately finding purchase in the small of her back.

You gripped her jersey as you sank into her embrace, pressing your cheek against her collarbone, and god, what did you do right in this lifetime–or the last–to have her back in your arms like this? You breathed her in and you nearly sobbed at the intimate familiarity of her scent.

“Alexia, I–” You began but you shook your head. So instead, you choked out, “Alexia, you shouldn’t be here.”

Silence was the only answer and Alexia seemed to cling all the more tightly to you after the words left your mouth. And you could feel it, the despondency in the slope of her back as if they already had lost the match. Guilt ate away at you. You did this, didn’t you?

“Listen to me, Ale. Your team is waiting for you. They need their Captain, Alexia. They need you.”

At those words, Alexia only buried herself further into you as if she wanted herself to disappear completely. Then she spoke in a voice so small you could barely recognise it was her talking.

“I messed up. I… I can’t be what they need me to be right now. I feel weak.”

You recognised this, the familiar shadow of doubt that tinged Alexia’s thoughts and marred her confidence. Although rare to rear its head, its venom was lethal when it did, attacking her weakest parts, right where it hurt the most.

Cradling the nape of her neck with a gentle hand, you let her fall all the more closer to you and you whispered softly, but firm in the way you enunciate the words, to get your message through to her.

“‘The match is not won until the last second is lost.’ Alexia, isn’t that what you told me? You can't just give up now. You can't lose faith in your teammates right now." Alexia’s breath hitched at your words, her arm around your waist tightened. You continued, “your strength is their strength, and theirs are yours. I used to tell you, remember? You're so strong but it's not all yours to carry, Alexia. You're only human but that doesn't make you weak. Have faith in them... have faith in you."

You turned your head just so so you could rest your temple against the line of her jaw before you said, “now go, Alexia. Your team needs you.”

Alexia leaned in to your touch and sighed. She nodded and finally she loosened her grip but before she fully extricated herself from you, she said in a raw voice but not with malice, “I’m still mad at you.”

You couldn’t help it, the small laugh that bubbled out of your throat as you rested your forehead against her shoulder.

“Fair enough. You can be mad at me all you want later but right now, you have a match to win.”

She pulled away and you finally saw her eyes. Albeit red and raw around the edges, the hazel in them shone with a familiar brilliance, a hungry fire undiminished by the tears in her eyes. You longed to dry her tears but Alexia did it herself, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. She handed you back your camera, hand lingering on your right wrist as she brushed the pad of her thumb over the string there, gave you one last look and a nod, before she jumped over the sponsor board and sprinted to the tunnel entrance, the crowd roaring as she went past them.

At her departure, the rest of the world came back to focus: the stadium, the screaming fans, the blare of the halftime music… the cameras pointed at you, from the broadcasting channels to the phones of the fans on the stands; you were the subject of all their eyes, all their lenses. Even when you glanced at your fellow photographers, most of them had their cameras pointed at you, some looked at you with passing curiosity while some stared at you as if you’d grown an extra pair of head.

Your ears and cheeks warmed at the attention, gut coiling uncomfortably as you adjusted your face mask, something that you were all the more grateful for especially after that little public display from Alexia. You kept your head down as you walked the length of the sideline towards Sweden’s goal for the next half, and you tried your hardest to ignore the weight of the stares by pretending to tend to your equipment.

Then you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You fished it out and found a message from Robert.

‘That was… pretty public. Are you feeling alright?’

You looked up, tried to pick out Elisa and Robert from the crowd but when you couldn’t, you typed out your reply.

‘I’m fine, thank you. How are the both of you?’

‘Well, Elisa’s just about as ecstatic as any child who found out that their mom knows their favourite football player. She’s been asking questions non-stop, I don’t even know how to answer them all. Please help.’

Despite your situation, you chuckled at the image of Elisa pestering her uncle.

‘Tell her she can save her questions for me later. Don’t say anything else.’

‘Okay, thank you. And hang in there.’

The loud cheers from the crowd drew your attention away from your phone and upon looking up, found that the players had begun entering the pitch. Automatically, your viewfinder was to your eye, framing the players as they went and taking a shot.

Alexia was last to step foot on the field and you didn’t miss the way she looked over the last spot she saw you and when she couldn’t find you there, her head swivelled around as she jogged to her position in the opposite half. She found you eventually and even with fifty meters between you, the intensity of her stare reached you. It made you shiver–hopeful in spite of yourself–but when the whistle cut through the air once more, you readied your camera, breath held for what was yet to come.

The game went on and you were so focused on trying to do your job that you couldn’t keep up with the details but the fact was this: no matter how hard Spain pressed forward, Sweden’s defensive effort increased twofold, and whenever Spain played deep to keep Sweden in check, Sweden prodded forward, constantly chipping away at Spain’s defensive line with each effort.

After Sweden’s attempt at Spain’s goal came an opportunity. One minute Cata had the ball in hand, the next the ball was by Alexia’s feet who took one touch before she passed it between two defenders to Salma who was waiting past the halfway line, who then dribbled the ball into Sweden’s penalty area, then she cut it back and crossed it to Aitana who angled her run just enough to tap the ball in.

One-one.

The crowd roared to life and Spain’s fire was reinvigorated. They had eleven minutes left of normal play to score another goal and win. Both teams clashed, gave their all throughout the remaining time, then through to additional and extra time.

Now the moment of truth: a penalty shootout at Sweden’s goal.

Your palms began to sweat, nervous for Alexia. When was she taking her penalty?

Spain went first. They got it in. Sweden as well. One-one.

Then it was two–two.

Spain got their third. Sweden took their shot but Cata deflected it.

Mušović stepped up this time and blocked Spain’s fourth. Cata, again, anticipated right and denied Sweden their own.

You drew in a staggered breath as Alexia began to walk. Once she got to the ball, she flicked it up with her foot and caught it easily with her hands. Click. Through the lens, you watched as Alexia turned the ball over then placed it right by the penalty spot. Click. Then she began fixing her socks, adjusting her shoes, brushed her left ankle with her thumb–click– and she leant back up, resting her hands by her waist as she waited for the whistle. You zoomed in on her face: she was stoic, calm as she eyed the goal, beads of sweat lined her forehead and the bridge of her nose–click.

The whistle blew.

Alexia took five steps back, one step to her right. She took two short strides forward and on the third, her left foot connected with the ball. The net moved with an audible swish from the power behind her kick, depositing the ball in the bottom right corner of the goal and the crowd roared–or was it you who was screaming?–as the rest of Spain’s team ran to their captain to hug her.

Spain won.

Photo after photo, you captured Spain as they celebrated, their cheers and victorious cries. And when each member of Spain’s team walked the stage to receive their golden medals, the feeling that surged through you was something else entirely.

The celebration went on but as the crowd thinned and the live broadcast ended, anxiety filled you once again. You tried to keep track of where Alexia was but she’d been surrounded by so many people that you lost her in the celebration. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you packed up your things but kept your camera out as you hung about at the edge of the pitch near the stands.

And then you heard it.

“Mom!”

You turned to the sound and found Elisa who was leaning against the safety rail of the stands just off to the side of the tunnel entrance, an enthusiastic arm waving in the air as she grinned at you. Beside her was Robert who, too, was leaning on the railing with his elbows who gave you a small wave as you jogged over to them, pushing your face mask down on the way.

“Elisa, ladybug, careful you might fall!” You reprimanded but a smile made its way on your lips all the same and either way, your words fell on deaf ears as Elisa excitedly bounded up and down.

“Mom! Did you see that?! That was so intense! And did you see how Alexia just went,” Elisa imitated Alexia’s strike and an affectionate laugh bubbled out your throat at her display, “and it was the best!”

Then Elisa stilled, eyes widening as she looked past you. “Oh my god, Mom, it’s–”

“‘Mom?’”

It was Alexia but her voice was almost unrecognisable because of how flat it sounded. You whipped your head back and surely, the expression Alexia wore accentuated the barely hidden animosity but it wasn’t directed at you nor Elisa. Rather, you found her glaring up at Robert and at his hand resting on the railing where the gold band on his finger was visible–glinting.

You looked at Alexia, whose demeanour was souring by the second, then at Robert who looked paler than you’d ever seen him before, then to Alexia again.

Oh, no.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: manifesting for spain to get through the qualifiers and then win the olympics #also an extra round of apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes for this one #hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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sentigabrielapologist · 6 months

Text

sentigabriel bc im bored

#miraculous ladybug #sentibeings #sentibabies #sentibeing #sentibaby #sentigabriel #sentimonsters #sentimonster #had to use these last two tags even if i hate them so much #gabriel agreste #dont ask me why his hand are so big #i was inspired by spots hands #theyre actually so huge

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hydrngea · 1 year

Note

Rafe x reader

They grew up together and as kids Rafe got reader a necklace and she still wears it to this day but Rafe doesn’t notice until she’s all dressed up for midsummer

(This is really random but I thought it was cute lol)

Ur writing is amazing btw! 🫶🏻

perfect pick

a/n : thanks sm!!! i appreciate the compliment :)) i didn’t completely answer the prompt but i might do a part 2 in a couple of days :))

notes : rafe cameron x reader, au to some extent featuring rafes mom before she disappeared.

masterlist | PART TWO

————

rafe could care less about your tenth birthday. in fact, the only reason he even knew it was coming up was because it was all you and sarah could ever talk about lately; what the theme would be, what kind of cake would be the best to eat, who should and should not be invited.

rafe cameron does not care about your birthday- which is why when his mom forced him to come along with her to pick out a present for you, all he wanted to do was jump out of the car and run away.

“but she’s not even my friend.” he whined as they entered the mall, keeping the door open for his mom to go in with wheezies stroller.

“no buts. she’s family, rafe.”

he groans, his steps heavy against the large and perfectly square porcelain tiles of tiffany’s.

“just because she’s your best friends daughter doesn’t mean i have to get her a present.”

his mom shushes him as they approach the jewelry counter, placing a hand on his shoulder before smiling at the associate.

the associate is too enthusiastic to be genuine at this time of day. rafe rolls his eyes at her sickly sweet tone while she asks what they’re looking for. he feels a nudge at his side and his face twitches with annoyance.

“a necklace.” he says under his breath, planning on choosing the first one the associate suggests.

she leads them to the left side of the store, hand gesturing to an array of really expensive necklaces for them to choose from.

“i’ll be right where you found me if you need any help with specifics.” she smiles before abandoning them.

rafe turns to look at his mom, who holds wheezie on her hip. “so?” he shrugs.

“hm?”

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, “what one do you want?”

his mother laughs, adjusting wheezie on her hip and grabbing her hand, stopping her from dirtying the display with her chubby fingers. “i don’t want any of these. which one does y/n want?”

the question makes him think for a second. he doesn’t know what you would like. he flips through his memories for some sort of indication, but really he should just point to a random piece and call it a day.

red. he thinks, he remembers you saying your favorite color is red- on multiple occasions.

it was red like ladybugs 4 years ago. then red like pretty roses. red like red pandas a couple years before. red like taylor swifts iconic lipstick now.

he shakes his head, then points to a silver chain with a little red charm in it. “that.” he shrugs and then turns on his heel, before his mom can question if its the best choice.

…

he fidgets with the black ribbon wrapped neatly on top of the gift box theyd put the necklace in, eyes tracing over the bolder lettering over and over again as they walked back to the parking lot. he avoids making eye contact with his mom, like for some reason it’d trigger her to go on another rant about how he should act gentlemanly when he gives her the present or at least act like he cares.

they make it to the car without any conversation, save for some half-coherent blabber here and there from wheezie. he slips into the passenger seat while his mom buckles in wheeze into her carseat, the box still in his hands.

halfway through the car ride, the silence between them is broken. “i know you don’t like to talk about your feelings rafe, but you don’t do a great job at hiding your facial expressions.”

“mom,” he groans, leaning the back of his head deep into the leather seat of her escalade.

“i can tell you have a soft spot for her.” she continues, pressing on the brakes as they approach a red light.

“i don’t.” rafe grumbles, fingernail digging into the box and leaving a mark.

“deny all you want, but i saw the way you looked thinking about her. it’ll catch up to you one day.”

he finally brings his gaze to her, his blue eyes meeting her mirroring irises with a glint of curiosity over what her words mean. he makes to open his mouth, to ask what she means by the look. to ask what’s going to catch up to him. but then reminds himself it doesn’t matter and stops himself.

he doesn’t have anything to catch up to him, because he doesn’t have any sort of feelings for y/n.

there’s no way he feels something towards you- could he?

he shakes his head, putting the box to his side and out of his lap and flickering his eyes to his window. why is he letting his mom get into his head?

he doesn’t care about you. doesn’t care about hee stupid birthday, or even care much about the stupid present he chose for you.

—————-

your tenth birthday party is excatly how you wanted it to be. it’s perfectly decorated, with red streamers hung all over the downstairs of your house and taylor swift themed snacks and games. you were having the time of your life, drunk off shirley temples in fancy alcholol flutes.

you notice a stain on your birthday sash and you pout. quickly excusing yourself to drop off the sash in your room, you rush out of your back patio and into the house, making your way towards the stairs when you bump into someone’s solid chest.

here’s one thing to note; regardless of what everyone says, you do not like rafe cameron. “oh, rafe.” you say, taking a small step back-you can feel your cheeks burn under his gaze.

okay fine, the previous statement was a lie. but not completely, it was only a small crush. tiny. as big as the sprinkles on your birthday cake.

“here.” he shoves a small gift bag into your hands and then hastily walks away before you can ask what it is.

the interaction leaves you somewhat disoriented but also flustered, skin pink and pulse fast.

on your past birthdays, you always get one present from sarah and one from her parents. and that’s what you think it is, a present from sarah’s family.

you bring the bag up with you into you room and pull the sash off your body, throwing it into a random corner of your room.

you know it’s bad etiquette to open presents before it’s time, but for some reason you’re too drawn to the gift bag to wait. you peak your head out your bedroom door and find that the coast is clear, and open the bag, pulling out a small teal box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. you shake it close to your ear, guessing it’s some sort of jewelry and grin to yourself when you realize you’re right

you open the box and find the most perfect necklace ever. it’s silver, with a small red heart attached to its chain with your initial engraved onto it.

you’ll have to thank mrs and mr cameron for the gift. it might be even better than the one sarah got you.

you hear your mom call for you from the bottom of the stairs and you quickly shove the box into the top drawer of your dresser, leaving the bag on top of your bed before hurrying back downstairs to rejoin the party.

——-

you’re confused when mrs cameron hands you another gift bag when it’s time to open presents.

“another one?” you ask with your brow furrowed, though you aren’t complaining.

“from me, ward and wheeze.” she hands it to you with a warm smile and a quick wink.

that’s when it clicks that the present wasn’t from who you thought it.

you slip away from the party and rush back up to your room, grabbing the original bag and digging inside for a card or an indication form who it could be from.

there’s a note stuck to the bottom of the bag, made of ripped loose leaf and written with a dull pencil.

“happy birthday” it says, with no signature. but you don’t need one to know who it’s from.

suddenly, your heart starts hammering and your face starts to swell with a smile.

you can’t believe it- rafes the one who got you the necklace, and somehow he managed to make it perfect.

—-

authors note part 2 : i want to say this is extremely UNEDITED so i apologize for any errors and incoherences etc ! there’s a 90% chance i’m gonna take this down and repost this with edits lol.

taglist : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover @of-many-fandomss @dearreader03 @penny4yourthoughts @willowpains

PART 2

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fannyrosie · 8 months

Text

Two weeks ago, I went back to my late grandmother's hometown to visit her tombstone. My grandma used to love going to school, but had to drop out early because of her poor health. However, her mother (my great-grandmother), a few of her sisters, as well as my own mom, were all teachers. That explains why I did a retro uniform back-to-school look, even though I graduated from secondary school over 18 years ago.

I have added a picture of my grandmother sitting in almost the same spot as me on my Instagram post. Back in her days, it was still a train station, but now, it's a boutique and meeting point for cyclists (sadly, a lot of trains stopped running in this country for the sake of a car lifestyle, but that's a rant for another day).

Outfit rundown Dress: second-hand Métamorphose temps de fille Turtleneck : Uniqlo Cardigan : old Lord & Taylor Hat: vintage Bag: thrifted Shoes: thrifted Socks: Shimamura Brick house brooch: handmade by a friend Cream soda earrings: Lisa Retro (handmade) Shiitake mushroom brooch and cat ring: Design Festa (handmade) Ladybug on leaves brooch: present

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sebsbarnes · 3 months

Note

Heyyyy. i have no idea if ur taking requests right now but i have one for when you are. could u do tan x reader where tangerine has an exceptional soft spot for reader and they get on like partner in crime and whenever they are on missions together they are just great buddies who take the piss out of each other the whole time and tangerine kinda just wants to be around her whenever shes around like at gatherings (especially at little parties cuz hes kinda antisocial and shes sort of the same and doesnt want to be by ladybug and marias side all night cuz they are kinda lovey dovey and she gets a little sick of them not confessing their love to each other. i ship ladybug x maria they are just cutie patooties to me) or if she goes out for some fresh air after mission briefings hes by her side and the dynamic is kinda how him and lemon get on if that makes sense. lemon is kinda just amused and shocked that his brother is so fond of her and kinda just loves watching them interact and lemon, ladybug and maria are like amused parents just gossiping about them. i hope u can do this and that it makes sense. love ur works and ur an amazing writer :)

the soft spot i have for tang having a soft spot for the reader ahh<3 so cutie. thank you for supporting me and i hope you enjoy this :) also has everyone been seeing the new aaron pics lately phew!!

tangerine has a soft spot for the reader

warnings: none, prob grammar mistakes! unedited

masterlist

ON THE JOB:

thought lem and tan worked like magic?... Nothing on you and tangerine

you two almost fought over how seamless you worked together bc it would get so annoying sometimes

"c'mon love, i had him!" tangerine would fake tsk after you cut in front of him to shoot the man you were both fighting

"i'm sorry! i got ahead of myself!!"

he'd roll his eyes and pretend to sulk and you would immediately interrupt him- "literally. don't ever make that face again that was horrifying."

"y'know what was horrifying? that shot." tangerine would jest

sometimes even the people you were fighting would stop in confusion because you two were always laughing on the job

"should we continue...or...? we can circle back to this if you'd like?" the enemy would ask, using his gun to gesture between him and the duo

you always ended up way too injured after missions?? to the point it didn't even make sense. your task could be just stand and observe the surroundings without fighting anyone and you somehow ended up with a limp and a bruised shoulder??? no sense.

tangerine would worry so much because truly how did you become battered and bruised???

"do i need'ta stay with you?" he'd ask, the concern in his voice blaringly obvious, "cuz if i have to i'll make lem take on the rest of this job?"

tangerine would be eye-level with you staring so deep into your eyes it felt like he was had burned holes through them

"i'm fine really tang," you'd always wave off when he asked if you were alright

"i'm serious."

"and so am i tangerine, don't be ridiculous."

and even though you'd deliver the sentence with a smile tangerine felt a pang in his chest. he didn't think he was being ridiculous. he was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.

you would dismiss your injuries and the aches and pains but tangerine would never

AT EVENTS:

tangerine isn't one for big work events... not even in the slightest. he'd rather take on 15 men at once with his bare knuckles then stand around and pretend to be jovial with people he could not care about

but with a work event that means one thing.... you were also be there! and boy did this make the night enjoyable

tangerine would get gloomy though because you were talking to people that you had previous jobs with

if he found himself extremely bored and you were chatting away with someone he would wander over to you and gently grab you wrist giving it a slight pull

you'd get the hint and excuse yourself before vanishing away with tangerine

and you didn't mind, you didn't prefer talking with many people. if you never worked with them on a mission you wouldn't even look their way or try and start a conversation. you were pleased with the small group of acquaintances you had, but ultimately you liked being alone

"thank fuck you pulled me from that conversation, i could see the gears turning in william's head that he'd ask about the kyoto job."

"and what would that old prick have to say, huh?" tangerine rolled his eyes

there was a lot of...criticism of how the job went down

"probably how the brief case went missing in the first place," you shrug

"well that was lemon's fault."

"welllll," your voice rang out in a high-pitched tone

tangerine's eyebrows pulled together, "now what's that all about? lemon was too busy playin' with his fuckin' stickers."

"you could've checked," you countered

"so it's my fault?"

"it's both of your faults."

"i'm about to get a fuckin' headache," he gruffed

you two would be hanging by yourselves observing the people scattered about before your eyes landed on ladybug and maria

"they should really confess their feeling to each other," you'd say nonchalantly and tangerine would follow your eyes over to the pair

"they like each other???"

you would just shoot tangerine a look like really? you can't tell

"ladybug is always talking about how he feels nervous around her and is at a loss for words. the man who never likes anyone calling or texting him because 'it will ruin his state of peacefulness' literally told me he waits at his phone for her to call and when she doesn't all day he gets upset."

tangerine slowly nodded his and he felt his cheeks warm up.

he was getting red because... he felt that way when you were around or when you didn't text him back

never in tangerine's life did he think he'd be able to relate to ladybug

"hey... what's going on with them?" maria asked lemon who had now walked up

lemon laughed a bit looking over to you and tangerine, both of you observing his phone intently

"y'know... i'm not quite sure. i can't tell if he's in love or if it's just friendly. and that asshole would never tell me anyways," lemon would shrug

EVERY DAY LIFE:

you didn't live with the twins but you did live next door

it was much like those sitcoms where the neighbor would just burst through the front door without warning and the owner didn't care

you were tough, don't doubt that, but sometimes you felt scared being in the walls of your apartment alone, even if tangerine and lemon were only separated by a hallway

you didn't admit your fears for awhile but one day after a mission as you stepped outside the building you felt the need to confess

the breeze had been a bit chilly as the sun was setting, you were leaned on the railing with closed eyes when you heard the door open and tangerine's familiar footsteps

"are you ever scared?" you asked him that day

you heard his lighter flick, "at times, yeah. i try not to dwell though."

"i'm terrified in my apartment," you said with a glance to him, the cigarette dangling from his bottom lip

"move in with us," he had said with such quickness

"i spend enough time there being a burden, i could never do that."

"you're never a burden in my eyes."

so while you spent countless hours in their apartment you would clean or cook for them as a form of thank you which they hated.

lemon wacked the cleaning solution out of your hand, "seriously, i'm going to have to start paying you. stop cleaning."

"but-"

"NO!" lemon would laugh, "just sit down and watch tv. you're stressing me out."

there of course were times they were pleased such as when you found yourself hunched over the stove cooking them dinner after a long mission

they'd mutter how good it smells as they approached the kitchen, their suit jackets thrown to the side and watches being unclipped

"this looks so good," tangerine said his body now next to yours

"how was work?" you asked, grabbing plates to set up the food

tangerine's arms cut you off, his arms sliding around your waist, his head coming to rest against yours. you felt his body relax around you and the weight of him leaning against you. he smelt of cigarettes, blood, and the faintest bit of cologne

"fine, now that i'm home," he muttered into your hair, he hoped you didn't notice the way his arms squeezed tighter when he said 'home'

lemon leaned against the wall of the kitchen, a knowing smile on his face as he observed his brother

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nanaluvbug · 1 year

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fell in love with the Worlds Beyond Number podcast, the Children's Adventure was so heartwarming (and heart-breaking)

[background is a screencap from Howl's Moving Castle (2004)]

patreon * twitch * shop

[ID: a digital illustration of the Children's Adventure from the Worlds Beyond Number podcast. four characters walk up a grassy hill on a sunny day. from left to right, the characters are Ame (a small east asian girl with a dark bowlcut smiles wide - with a missing tooth - and points ahead. she wears an orange and yellow jumper, striped socks, dark boots, and a pink sakura flower friendship bracelet) Eursulon (a tall furry brown creature walking on his hind legs seems pre-occupied with a trio of ladybugs on his large paw. he has a pink flower tucked behind owl like tufts of ears, two tusks emerge from his feline mouth and his brown fur is dotted with light spots to depict his youth. he has hazel/yellow eyes, wears a golden pauldron on his left shoulder and a deep green vine friendship bracelet.) Suvi (a small medium-brown-skinned black girl with a large afro dotted with pink flowers and a pencil. she smiles, genuinely, and wears large golden glasses, a red dress, a teal cape, brown bag, lavender boots, and a soft lavender flower friendship bracelet.) and Grandma Wren (a wide, old, light brown skinned witch smiles at the children. she has silver hair tied in a high bun with a red scarf around her forehead. she wears an orange dress with a summer-themed apron, golden jewelry, and holds pink flowers in her hand. a golden censer dangles from her witch's belt.)

#worlds beyond number #ttrpg #dnd #ghibli #Character Design #black artist #ame the witch #suvi the wizard #eursulon #grandma wren

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padfootdaredmetoo · 10 months

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Hi lovely! Hope you’re doing well. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you’d be open to do a Tangerine smut where he realizes how much effect he has on reader (like with using pet names and stares and stuff) and he decides to make use of that?? Idek if you like something like that so if you wanna adjust pls feel free! Thanks so much💗

Heyo,

Thank you for this request, it's honestly been on my mind FOREVER. This is a mess with poorly written conflict and plot, but hopefully, I make up for it with spice. Thank you for sending this in and for being so patient with me, love. Enjoy!

Warnings: BIG dom/sub vibes, shooting, guns, violence, bad plot, smutty smut, established relationship, anxiety, mentions of the reader having a rough childhood, fingering, fucking, idk all the spice I guess, very supportive partner? good aftercare, very loving

So far vacation was an excellent idea. Lemon was occupied, flirting with anyone he could manage leaving him the space to fully enjoy the lovely lady pressed to his side. The relentless tropical heat placed you in various soft summer dresses. He watched you sip on your drink, providing commentary on Lemon’s interactions across the bar.

He was only half listening, recognizing that your tone was relaxed and happy. His shoulders relaxed, a feeling he found strange. He and Lemon were out. That life was long gone behind them. The past few months were strange in their predictability and slow pace. There was something else though, in the pit of his stomach. Something told him the other shoe would drop eventually.

There was only so much he could handle before he wanted that dress discarded on their bedroom floor. He pulled you up and enjoyed the flash of electricity that sparked in your eyes. Your red lips curved into a grin and he regretted the decision to go for drinks so far away from the hotel.

You leaned into his side as his arm came around your shoulders, Tan hoped that he wouldn't have to live a day without that feeling.

You both enjoyed the warm air as you walked along the boardwalk. His eyes fluttered around, checking every shadowed corner, every vantage point. He knew that he might relax a little, but some things would stay with him forever.

He could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise up before he heard the shot fire. He pulled you behind a closed kiosk. It was quiet except for the ringing in his ears. He looked across the street to an empty warehouse. Pulling you along he made a run for it, putting you in front of him.

Once inside he rounded the corner and heard a familiar voice yell out “GET DOWN.” He was distracted by the immediate rage he felt that Ladybug was here. Causing trouble and now giving him orders. Piece of shit. He didn't realize that you had immediately ducked down behind a large metal barrel instead of following him to the shipping container.

He could see your face in the shadows. Your eyes were wide and your hands were shaking. Another round of gunfire exploded from the entry.

There was a horrible bird call that made Tan smack his forehead despite feeling relieved that Lemon was there. He hoped, for your sake, that Ladybug would be siding with them in whatever mess this was. Then, when it was over, he would kill him slowly for dragging you into this.

His eyes only strayed away from your face to survey the space around you. That barrel was going to give away eventually and he needed to tell you to run across when they reloaded. Stuff like this never needed to be spoken with Lemon, but you had clearly never been in a spot like this.

Using his hands he tried to explain what to do. You mimed it back to him the best you could and he gave you a thumbs up. He held his hand up telling you to stay in place as the bullets cut through the space between the two of you. Your arms covered your head but thankfully you were tough enough to keep your eyes on him, focused on the goal.

The fire stopped and he took a breath motioning you to run across. He stepped out and provided cover. He could hear Lemon somewhere on the rafters also picking off the enemy. He could tell that Lemon had the advantage and he knew it would be over soon. He caught you in his arms and held you close. He guided you down to a crouched position. His hands ran across your body looking for the slightest bit of damage.

“Good girl.” He whispered breathlessly. Despite the chaos, he lived for the way your face changed. Your eyes got heavy, and you sucked in a breath. He knew you were in shock, probably not in your right mind, but he put his thumb on your bottom lip. His fingers brushed your neck, feeling your pulse hammering. He should stop, this was not the time or place to be distracted. But his confidence in his brother’s abilities awarded the darker parts of him a few more moments with you like this.

“You did so good for me.” His voice was thick with intention he was consumed by the way you went under for him. Being shot at in a foreign place tucked behind a storage bin, you clearly had too much faith in him. His other hand slid up the inside of your leg, just high enough to brush across the wetness that he wanted so badly. You closed your eyes and he heard Lemon’s victory cry. Reluctantly he helped you stand up.

“Finish this later” He mumbled righting himself. He hated himself for doing it, for enjoying it, when he should have been protecting you.

Ladybug told them a long-winded story about the mission he was on as he drove the large SUV away from the warehouse now consumed with flames. Tan knew that he brought those idiots here to where they were because Ladybug knew they would help him. Stupid fucking ididot.

“I’m sorry where are my manners -” Ladybug's eyes landed on you from the rearview mirror and Tan gave him a look. Apparently, it did its intended job as Ladybug gave him a respectful nod and made no reference to you for the rest of the drive.

The night became longer and longer. They packed up their hotel room and Ladybug got them onto a private flight. The getaway was smooth, and they were comfortable all things considered. Tan was obsessed with you, unable to understand your behavior. You didn't lean into him, you clung to him. He thought about everything he knew about you as they got carted from plane to plane - then from car to car. He felt he had surely made the top three traumatic events in your life.

He would get you somewhere safe enough to snap out of whatever haze you were in. You would rightfully lose it at him and he would return you home and pay for some extra security on your apartment.

You didn't want to talk, you just drifted in and out of sleep holding onto his arm. He was thankful that Ladybug ignored your existence while still handing Tan blankets and a hoodie for you.

Eventually, they ended up at a safe house they had in Norway. He carried you into the cabin, noting that he would need to get you some new clothes tomorrow. The place was freezing having been abandoned.

Tan sat you on the edge of the bed and stepped back out into the hallway to see what Lemon needed from him. Without looking up from the laptop on the center island of the kitchen, Lemon just pointed back to the bedroom. Tan was relieved, and let Lemon do the setup.

Unsure of how to start the conversation he shut the door and sat on the bed next to you. You tucked your knees to your chest and wrapped the many blankets around yourself.

“So, well. Erm - bit of a mess back there huh?” He hated himself even more for his inability to do the right thing.

“That was a lot. Sorry, I’m not really prepared for this type of stuff. I don't know how to push it down like you guys.” You said with chattering teeth. Your words ran through his mind a few times.

“Your apologizing?” He was suddenly angry, he would never be able to fully understand how badly your parents had messed you up.

“Yeah, I was kinda useless. No gun, but also not a lot of training either - not to mention I sort of just shut down after.” You shrugged. “Sorry, I couldn't bring more to the team.”

He wanted to shake you and shout. Tell you to be angry, show you how. Instead, he remembered the last time he shouted at you and how much pain it caused you.

Instead, he grabbed your shoulders. “Sweetheart. Baby.” He said calmly. “You should be very angry at us.”

He watched you slip away again and he wanted to punch the wall.

“I put you in a lot of danger.” He watched you focus on his lips, eyes heavy. He considered derailing this conversation entirely but knew how important it was that you understood.

“I didn't mind.” You mumbled airly. He let out a sigh, swearing under his breath.

“Baby, you should mind.” He said seriously. “Look -”

“Tan, you kept me safe.” You whispered back. “This is the best thing I have. I don't mind if it’s dangerous.”

“You should - You-”

“Please” You pleaded with him in a wet voice.

“What?” He asked caught off guard.

“Just - not tonight. I want you to -” You couldn’t find the words and nodded at him like he would figure it out. “Just do the thing,” You said finally.

“What thing babygirl?” He gave up and decided he would punish himself for it later. “You tell me what you want, baby.” His tone of voice was enough to send you into the haze.

“I don’t know, just want you.” You said in a small voice and he finally kissed you, eating up the moans that escaped your lips. You were dangerously submissive. Something he wanted to handle delicately but struggled with as you would beg him for more.

He slowly got you out of your clothes, not wanting to push you. You laid back on the bed looking almost pained by experience. He brought his hand out to rest on top of your chest. He felt your chest sink as a large sigh escaped you.

“So beautiful” His words painted a thick blush across your face that ran down your neck.

“Did so good for me today.” He praised you and you looked possessed as you bathed in his words. “Such a good girl.”

It was even more evident how badly neglected you must have been as a child. Anger swelled in his chest before he reminded himself that he might as well shower you in it now. That's what you wanted.

His hand ran slowly down your chest. His hand cupped your breast and he slowly encircled your nipple before giving it a light squeeze. He watched your patience wear thin at his slow pace. He was sure you would snap at him like you usually did. This time was different, fat tears swelled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks.

“Baby what’s wrong.” He asked brushing the tears off your right cheek.

“Want you.” You choked. He didn't think it was humanly possible to be this vulnerable and open. Yet here you were, tied up in knots over how badly you wanted him.

He shushed you soothingly. It was impossible to deny you. He ran his hand down your stomach and finally to the place you needed him.

He gave you praise over every little moan and twitch, watching you fall apart. He got you to climax, thinking this would snap you out of it. Your chest was heaving and the dreadful tears were back.

“Please.” You gasped. He again, could not deny you, even if he wanted to.

“Be a good girl and wait for me.” He said firmly removing his hands to take off his clothes. You lay there on your back, legs still wide apart, for the first time without shame. You always wanted to be under the sheets or hidden. He looked down at the wet mess between your legs, he felt pride in making you happy. This wasn't something he was taking from you, this was something he was giving you.

Once coming to terms with this being about you, his hesitation left him. He knelt between your shaking legs, enjoying the way his fingers slid through your folds with ease. How his two fingers slid inside you with no resistance. Your body was truly desperate for him.

You moaned and contracted tightly around his fingers.

“Good girl, squeezing me so tight.” You let out a ragged breath in response. He wanted to stuff his cock as deep as you could manage, but he was enjoying the way you unraveled for him too much.

He pushed the length of his cock through your folds enjoying the way your hips bucked wildly as the head of his cock brushed your clit.

“Fuck” He breathed. “So good for me baby.”

He circled your entrance again with the tips of his fingers. “Gonna put it right here, baby.” He watched you squirm with impatience but pushed you further. “That what you want?” The pushed his fingers in slowly. “Want my cock right here.”

Your walls contracted around his fingers again as you let out a moan.

“Please.” You begged.

“Please what? Use your words. Be good for me.” He chuckled as you tightened around him again.

“Please let me have your cock, there - please.” The words were a struggle for you as his fingertips rubbed against the sensitive spot.

“Good girl.” He removed his fingers and with much control, he pressed the now slightly purple head of his cock against your entrance. The wet heat was unbearable, he took a deep breath and as slowly as he could manage pushed into the spongey tightness. You choked out a sob that was jarring to him. He stopped and watched you try to buck your hips up. His hands came down on your hips pressing the down into the soft bed.

“No,” He said firmly. Your face twisted up with impatience. You relaxed then he pushed inside slightly further. Your back arched and he stayed at that depth, slowly moving in and out. Even with your hips being still, your hot walls tried to pull him in further.

He had never understood it. Never had any reason to pursue it. If anything, he thought it was weird. When the words fell from your lips with such reckless abandon, all his self-control snapped.

“Dady”

He left no time for embarrassment to worm its way in. He was now consumed with desperation. He pushed into feeling himself stretch you out fully. Your cervix crowned the head of his cock and he retreated, only to press into you hard and fast.

Your mind and body broke down around him. Nothing made sense anymore, no time, no problems. Just you all around him.

You came, coming down around him tight enough to push him out. This only made him hold you down harder wanting to be in you fully when he found his own release.

“You going to cum again like that for me baby?” You let out a strangled noise and he pushed further. “I want you to cum nice and hard for me, help me off, baby.”

He felt your body start to fill with tension.

“Help me cum” Your body started to get tight, this time he held you down. “Just like that, good girl.” He grunted. Your body swallowed him down before constricting around him. Your body choked around with enough pressure to force him to release. It hit him like a truck, staying still as your body pulled his seed from him. After what felt like an eternity of breathlessness and pulsing he collapsed and tried his best not to crush you.

He felt your arms settle around his neck. Your fingers running through his hair.

“I don't know what that was. I don't know why I liked it. But I did.” You said firmly and he let out a chuckle.

“Did I get you back then?”

“I’m here.” You said.

“You mad about everything?” he asked, happy to be able to talk to you with a clear mind.

“I feel a lot of things right now, mad isn't one of them.” You whispered giving his hair a slight pull.

He enjoyed how you didn't protest him when he tried to look after you. You were always so eager to show that you were independent, so certain he would punish you for anything less.

Now you were letting him wash your hair. Your muscles relaxed as his hands ran over you with soap.

Once dried off you curled up against his side and fell asleep. No nightmares, just sound asleep at his side.

It was almost enough to make him feel like this was meant to be.

The time he shouted at her

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine imagine #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train imagine #Bullet train smut #tangerine bullet train #tangerine smut #aaron taylor johnson

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