Imagine The Reader And Daina Negotiating The Reward She Will Receive For Betraying Her "friends" While

imagine the reader and Daina negotiating the reward she will receive for betraying her "friends" while deciding what to do with the last survivor of the group… incredibly entertaining

Daina: I cut off his fingers and I want a kiss on the lips.

Reader: You cut off his hand and I'll consider letting you go.

Daina: Let's up the ante to an arm and a leg in exchange for a kiss on the lips.

reader: two arms and a chase in the woods to give the poor idiot hope of living another day and I'll kiss you on the cheek.

Daina: on the lips.

reader: *sighs* just a little brush of lips.

Daina: deal!!!

Sigh- Three hours deep into conversation, and you still haven't reached a conclusion to the pressing situation.

The cabin was empty besides you, that woman, and the stench of death; rotting wood and your blades separating you and real madman of this equation. Since the moment she woke up, she's attempted to entice affection from you. You assumed she was trying to butter you up like previous victims, but the look in her eyes told you she was fighting for something greater than her life.

Love.

Her friend's whereabouts, their lives, even her own were just pawns in the bigger game. You tried to take her up on her last offer, but every murder attempt ended in no one getting hurt besides yourself on one occasion. While she drew death from every corner, it appeared that she was saved from its clutches like she was the reaper herself. You woke up to her tending to the spilt in your eyebrow from when an old powersaw fell on you while you chased her around. She even had the nerve to leave a glossy kiss on your bloody forehead and snap a picture like you were on a quirky date. Humiliating, but given you couldn't get rid of her it was best to give in and get something out of it.

"Buzzcut's right eye for a twenty second hug."

Daina leans on the table. "I'll mangle Sadie's leg for a kiss on the lips. She was going to sign up for soccer tryouts next week. Killer skills."

You progress her counter. "... Add the blonde one's teeth and I'll consider a kiss on the cheek."

She sticks out her tongue. "Lips or nothing, baby. Well, I'll probably throw you a bone or two, but at least one person will get away without my help."

You look out the window. The sun is rising. Every second is another step towards your victims' freedom. You exhale. "Fine. Ten seconds. Keep your hands to yourself, and eyes closed. "

"Add a little tongue action to sweeten the deal, and I'll bring you the head of your choosing plus give you the keys to the car.

"....Tell anyone, and I will find a way to kill you."

Daina giggles, a soft blush dusting her cheeks. "Save the flirting for when we're on our first date, honey."

Would it be possible to request headcanons for arkhamverse selina, Ivy and Harley falling for Bruce Wayne’s sister :)

Arkhamverse Girls x Fem! Reader being Bruce Wayne’s sister

Harley Quinn x reader, Pamela Isley x Reader, and Selina Kyle x Reader - All Seperate

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Harley Quinn

Uh oh. Destruction time. I mean that can be said for any situation with Harley but especially now.

Expect lots of unexpected visits and party crashes from her, especially post! city. Sometimes she’ll just show up and be like hey ^•^!!!!

Since she’s, you know. A criminal. It’s kind of off putting how used to her you get after the first like, two break ins. You’ll stroll up to the manor and she kinda just pops out of no where. There’s always an extra plate made cause she’ll just walk in, say she loves you, eat your food, pet your animals, and leave. And you love her for it.

Every now and then there’s a routinely kidnapping. Cause you know. Crime. She doesn’t hurt you or anything, she just kinda hangs around, maybe gets you dinner. You know, the works.

She’ll definitely get on the other rogues when they target you. But it’s completely fine when she robs your place of work, with sparkly little eyes beaming when she sees you. She claims it was 100% a coincidence, but her goofy grin as giggles give her planning away.

There will times where people are like “S/O!!! Why are you spending time!!! With a well known criminal!!!” And your just like. “Criminal? No this is my baby. Her name is Harley. She’s never done anything wrong in her life.” And their like “S/O she’s covered in blood”. “So what?”

She’s also the equivalent of those small little mean dogs. You know the stereotypical little chihuahua. Little mean little bitch. She’s not a little bitch, she can be a bit mean to others though. She doesn’t mean it, she just doesn’t like it when people are being rude about you. You tell her she can’t shoot people cause they don’t like you. She begs to differ.

She’ll hang out with you before any of your public outings. Putting makeup on before a gala? She brought the perfect lipstick for you!Yes what are you saying, she bought it 100% legally she doesn’t know what your talking about.. stealing???? Noo she could never. Just shut up and put it on.

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Pamela Isley

Angry >:(

She absolutely HATES your brother. She hate hate HATES HIM. The amount of harm his stupid company does to the environment is going to make her bite someone. Not you she promises. She fully acknowledges you have no say in the company and don’t even have any relations to the company. Except for your brother. She’s amazed that someone as beautiful and sweet as you can be related to someone so horrid and disgusting.

She’ll send you roses with little notes attached to it. Of course they aren’t poison. The ones she sent your brother though, she can’t say the same.

Again, lots of unexpected visits. But not to your house specifically, to your bedroom alone. You’ll walk back in and she’ll be sitting herself in front of your vanity mirror fixing her hair, or fumbling through your bookshelf, or trying on clothes from your closet and drawers. She’s always hard to say no to. She’s so nice and sweet to you, and she’s so gorgeous. You have trouble telling her to get out.

She’ll take you out to a very public places. She likes to flaunt the fact you spend time with her, and not anyone else. Her jealousy kicks to 900% very easily, especially when it’s a man trying to make advances on you.

She has a habit of leaving small marks on you, even if you don’t notice. Your lips are tinted green from her toxins, small hidden hickeys placed on your neck, flowers she grew decorating your dress, or braiding your hair with roses decorating it. Or maybe you smell particularly floral today. Must just be a new perfume hm?

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Selina Kyle

Okay so, she’s the one that most likely knows your brother’s identity. So it’s a bit embarrassing when she realizes that the sister of the man she was trying to court was 10% hotter then he was.

She actually doesn’t break into your house uninvited. She sits outside your window and asks very politely to come in, kinda like a vampire. But instead of biting you to drink your blood she bites you cause she’s weird like that.

She also has a habit of trying to steal something from your manor. You’ll catch her in the middle of the night in the middle of your house, you just tell her to take what she wants and leave. But when she says she wants you, you just roll your eyes and go back to bed. But you said she could have anything she wanted :(

Please take her to galas and events as your date. She’ll act like it’s nothing but inside she’s crying she so happy. She loves to be with you in public especially. She doesn’t know why, she just does.

Except many very legally obtained gifts. Ignore the height in robberies of jewelry stores, but enjoy this gorgeous necklace she found for you. I mean bought. She means she bought it. She bought it with money it was a legal transaction.

If you give her gifts back she will act like it’s nothing, she could just steal this easily. But it honestly means the world to her.

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Liar Liar

Yandere Final Girl x Slasher reader

Summary: After escaping an attack from the town serial killer, party girl Daina throws a get together to celebrate. Only, she made the whole thing up.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: blood/gore, violence, murder, slight emetophobia

“We’re here now with Ms. White, the alleged latest survivor in a series of recent murders by the serial killer known as Mercy Valentine, by locals. Any words you’d like to say to the press?”

“It was horrible... My… my boyfriend was killed when we were heading home after practice. I managed to get away after being attacked in the locker room, but he… he didn’t make it. I found him… bleeding there in the field. When I came back with police, he was gone.” 

“Are you aware of the rumors that it may be a copycat? There has never been any reports of a body being taken from the scene.”

“Believe me, I know who I saw that night…”

The video pauses; frozen on a frame of a young woman with tear stains running down her face. Said girl falls back on her bed; the worried praise of her friends falling at her side.

“You’re so brave, Daina.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere after something like that.”

Daina-Grace White, or just Daina White depending on the crowd. Her parents thought their special little girl needed a special name, and that’s why she had been christened with a hyphenated first name. A star cheerleader in high school and track runner in her spare time. Everyone’s first pick for prom queen, and as the clip proclaimed; the most recent victim to the killer known as Mercy Valentine.

Mercy's preferred targets were those in pairs; one to take the blade, and the other to tell the tale. Couples were a frequent hit; earning them the latter part of their name – even if friend groups and families had fallen as well. The surviving party always had injuries such as scrapes and bruises, but the killer would turn and walk away before they became fatal. People speculated this was out of wanting to become some type of urban legend in the town, others some sort of guilt for their crimes. A few - believed it was on a level far deeper than that

Poor Diana and her boyfriend, Nathaniel, had been all alone on the night it happened. Scares out of their minds, one on the brink of death. It would have been a traumatic experience for the survivor and a terrible end for the one who died; had Nathaniel not gone missing the night prior. 

“Thanks, guys. Part of the reason I’m able to go on is because of the support of friends like you.”

It was rather easy to fake; especially with evidence practically placed on a silver platter for her. There had been talk around campus from his sister about him not returning home last night, and his car was found parked a couple streets away from her home. It was known to many that Nathaniel had the hots for Daina; even giving her his coat on a rainy day. With his phone conveniently placed in the passenger seat, and a slash to her arm; Daina was able to come up with a story that threw off most skeptics. 

Daina sits up, stretching away the worries of the day. “Let’s not focus on it for now. We have a party to get ready for!”

-

Most wouldn’t expect one to have a get together after the tragic death of their loved one, but Daina wasn’t like most people. She was a live in the moment type girl, and this moment was the prime of her youth. Plus, if anything were to happen, her father had given Daina her birthday present early. He really didn’t want to leave her alone after the ordeal, but duty calls. 

Snacks, sodas, and a punch bowl full of enough liquor to make someone forget the evening entirely sat on the kitchen counter. Living room lights were turned down low; and music played through speakers about the house. Every door and window had been left unlocked; just inviting the devil to play. She changes into something that’s easy to move around in, throwing her old top to a corner that lands on a mannequin she used to dress up when she was little.

“Sorry about that.” Daina giggles, tossing the clothing into its proper storage before heading back downstairs. 

-

8pm just minutes away, Daina hops on her couch and begins livestreaming to her social media of choice.

“Hey, everyone! Just getting the last couple things ready for tonight’s party. Times are tough, and we all need something to lighten the mood around this town.”

Comments pour in, only one catching her eye.

“Aren’t you worried about the danger?”

“Screw that! The killer supposedly never goes after the same victim twice, and even if they did come after me, I’ll just kick their ass like last time.”

She lifts up her arm, showing off her bandaged wrist while holding up her middle finger. Uncaring of the dangers of her actions; and whoever may come across the stream.

-

Eight o’clock finally hits, and the people begin to pour in. The party didn’t actually start until thirty minutes later, but there were always those who showed up early. Daina greets everyone with smiles and the occasional hug; pleasantries stopped when a certain individual walks through her door.

“Hey, Gracie… How you holding up?”

Mike was a quarterback for the school’s football team, and the best friend of the, supposedly, late, Nathaniel. He was the first to call Daina out on her claims; an allegation quickly shot down by their peers. In another life, the title of Mike's best friend belonged to her. A sweet girl, up until the beginning of high school, where her true colors began to come to light. The event that led to their falling out had been sweet under the rug due to only the two knowing of it; yet the scars were still there.

“Daina. What are you doing here, Mike?”

Mike stiffens, shuffling in his spot at the door. “I.. just want to bury the hatchet. We’re losing people left and right. For numerous reasons. It’s better to stick with each other than to hold grudges.”

Daina glares at him, but steps aside. “Alright, fine.” Mike starts to walk in, but she stops him again. “If you start anything, I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand?”

-

The party kicks up around nine. Young adults spilled across all floors of her house, and the backyard. A small group stands by the pool; two individuals holding the ankles of another hovering over a keg someone had bought. 

“27…28…”

Thomas taps the side of the container, the contents in his stomach slowly edging back to his throat. It relaxes as his friends put him down, but the way the world around him spins and the heaviest of his body tells him it won’t last long. He cheers along with the crowd; covering his hand over his mouth as he pushes through them all to head back inside. Passing the hostess, he weakly asks;

“Hey… where’s the bathroom?”

Daina points towards the stairs. “Second door on your left.”

With a brief thanks, he speeds up the stairs and to the bathroom. He barely makes it to the bowl before he begins to heave. The sound of his retching blocks out all other sounds; the cool night air on the back of his neck. Had he paid attention to the room for a second longer when he entered; he would have noticed that the window had been closed when he walked on.

Thomas flushes the toilet and stands on wobbly legs, walking over to the sink to wash out his mouth. He bends forward to splash water in his face. Through the waves, he spots something in the corner of the room. A shadow distinctive from the rest; its face a mix of white and pink.

“What the fu-"

Before he can continue, Thomas' face is slammed against the mirror; open eye pressed to the glass. He tries to flail around, but his actions are cut short by a blade to his neck. With a single slice, his throat is split; blood gurgling from the fresh wound and out the corners of his mouth. He slumps against the sink as the weight behind him vanishes; body twitching as it draws its last struggled breath.

-

“God damn it.”

Daina sighs in annoyance; shutting the lid of a pocket mirror her friend had leant her.

“What’s wrong, Daina?”

“My lipstick got smeared. I need to go put on some more.” Daina sets her cup on the nearby table; a ring of red lips around its ridge. She walks upstairs, pass the locked bathroom door, and heads into her room. She shuts an open drawer, and picks up a tube of lipstick to put it on – a scraping sound across the floor boards catching her ear.

“Hm?” She looks around, the only thing in her general field being that little mannequin she called a roommate. It rocked gently, wheels turned outward. Must’ve gotten hit when she entered the room. She smiles and places her arms over its shoulders.

“Hello, there. Were you trying to sneak up on me?”

The mannequin fails to reply; blank eyes staring back at her through the mask on its face. The arms of the coat draped over swaying as she turns around. Music thumping through the floorboards, she begins to dance with it as her partner. She places her head on its shoulder, swaying to the beat as she wraps her hands around its neck.

“I’m so glad that you’re with me…” She mutters.

Daina hums to herself; unaware of the crack in her closet door. The eyes that peer through. 

“Daina!”

She turns her head to the door; letting out a huff as he unlocks her arms from the doll and leaves the room in a hurry.

“Coming!”

As she leaves the closet’s doors handle rattles ever so gently; swinging outward as a figure creeps from the dark. Their eyes linger on the mannequin.. and the plastic that made up its face.

-

Downstairs; Daina is greeted by one of her friends – a worried look on their face. “Hey, Daina.. have you seen Thomas? I tried calling his phone, but he’s not answering, and his car is still outside.”

“I haven’t seen him all night. He’s probably wasted in my parents room or something….” Her eyes trail away as she spots something on the patio; the red bud of a cigarette and smoke clouds blown into the air.. “Hang on, I have to deal with this.” 

“But someone told me they saw you with…”

Daina pushes past them and storms outside. Mike stands outside; stare vacant and the nicotine stick between his lips. He doesn’t even look at her when she starts to go off.

“What the hell, Mike. I know it’s been years, but I told you not to smoke in here. If I find a single bud…”

“You’re still thinking about that day. Aren’t you?..”

He pulls a photo from his pocket. A photo from middle school graduation, or at least the remains of one. The page had been cut to show only a small group in the larger crowd. Daina hadn’t even noticed the picture was gone; too busy focusing on her appearance. She grinds her teeth. 

“You went in my room?” 

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“An invasion of my privacy is a pretty big deal, Mike.”

“She was my friend too, Daina.

“She isn’t the fucking point!”

A scream tears them both from the conversation. Both of them, along with various other members of the party rushed inside to see what was happening. A crowd had gathered around the walk in pantry in the kitchen; one person collapsed to the floor and staring in pure terror at what was inside. Pushing through the bodies; Daina manages to squeeze to the front and see what the problem was; her stomach dropping at the sight.

Propped against a shelf of canned goods; the corpse of another girl was sprawled on the floor. A knife wound pierced her eye as well as various spots of her chest; blood drying into her clothes. A single finger was painted red; words written onto the floor in her blood.

“LIAR.”

Calamity breaks out all at once. People screaming; shouting. Making breaks for the front door and any other exits. Daina crashes to the floor; Mike runs through the house and informs everyone else they need to flee. He picks up a poker near the fireplace as Daina regains her composer – wiping a grin from her face. 

“What are you going to do?” She asks.

“I’m going to kill that mother fucker. Call the police!”

Daina nods; heading upstairs where she had left her phone. Mike begins to sweep the house to find the intruder; kicking open doors and leaving no place unchecked. It's how he comes across the bodies of Thomas and a few other people. All in locations tucked away from sight. After a thorough investigation, there’s only one place left to look. The basement. 

Mike grips the handle; the shaking of his palms visible against its knob. He hesitantly opens it; a dim light all the way at the end of the steps. He begins to descend them; the light from the kitchen blocked by an object behind him.

-

Within the basement there is one final body. A young man with shaggy hair and wearing a sports jersey. He sits in a chair; the angle making it look as though he were merely asleep. The smells that come off his body are blocked by the mask over the approaching figure's face; their blade raised high over head. There is no scream as it falls; just the wet sound of metal entering flesh. His body loses balance as the knife is ripped through his neck; falling forward onto the ground below. Stab wounds litter his body; the puddles of blood around each hole having fully dried. His supposed assailant stands there confused; obvious to the running steps behind them. 

Mike brings the fire poker down on the masked individual’s skull. They crash to the floor; blood leaking through their scalp. They attempted to reach for their weapon; stopped by another blow to the head. They lie motionless, but he isn’t done. Not after everything this person has done. Not after the pain they’ve caused. He wants to demask them, but they need to suffer first. Their identity could be revealed through denial records. He reaches the poker like a club for another swing, but the only thing that falls is the object itself  - and drops of his own blood. 

The echo or a gunshot still rings; Mike looking down at the hole in his stomach in disbelief. It didn’t hurt at first; shock running through his veins. As he sticks a finger against the hole, the pain finally hits. He didn’t even have time to cry out as more shots ripple through his body. He falls down next to the slasher who remained still.. Footsteps descend the stairs; stopping by his writhing form. There’s a scrap of metal as they pick the fire poker off the floor. Mike turns to see the new figure. A mask akin to the one worn by the person beside him stares back at him; the highlights in her hair a sign of her identity. 

“D….daina?”

Her eye twitches. She cracks Mike beside the heat like a baseball player hitting a home run. She hits him again and again; screaming at the top of her lungs. She hits him until he stops moving. Until the flesh of his cheek is peeled away and the bones beneath break into dust. She only stops when there’s a groan from the person next to him.

“You’re alive… I was so worried..”

She kneels down; the other party flinching away even if barely conscious. They wore a hockey mask with a pink heart drawn over its left eye; something mirrored on her own. A mask worn by the mannequin in her room. She goes to lift theirs, but they weakly slap her hand away.

“It’s okay…” She coos. “I know it’s you, Y/n.”

She tears the mask from your face, shuddering from the sight of your gorgeous face, and the look of pure hatred you held. 

“There you are… We should take a picture to remember this moment. Hang on.”

Daina pulls off her own mask, running a hand through her hair. Remembering she forgot to put on more lipstick, she drips her fingers in the pool of Mike's blood and wipes it over her lips; placing a kiss on your cheek afterwards. She holds two fingers behind your head and sticks out her tongue. After taking the photo, she types away on her phone before tossing it aside.”

“All done! Now if you try to kill me, your face will be leaked online in an hour. Good luck trying to guess my password!”

Mercy Valentine… Y/n. Who would have guessed that a timid college student was behind all this suffering? Daina White. That’s who. For She knew that they were the one suffering the most. 

During the end of middle school, sweet, shy little Y/n had received a love note in their locker one day. At rope’s end and tired of life’s hardships, it became their lifeline. More and more came, their heart soaring with each word. It was at the end of the year that their childhood crush confessed that she had been the one to write them; a smile just a pinch to sweet on her face.

The two began dating; the lovesick teen unaware of what their love said behind their back – the plans she and her friends had towards the end of the summer. A letter had been placed at their doorstep to meet by the lake on the edge of town; note switched a second before they opened the door.

They arrived just in time to see her body floating in the lake, and her bewildered friends at the scene. They all fled; leaving the broken hearted soul to try and save her on their own. All, but one. Had they been a little wiser. They would have noticed that the penmanship between their love and the author of the letters didn’t match. That someone else was watching them from the sidelines at her friend's side. That the heart drawn on their dead lover’s mask had eerie similarities to the ones the popular girl in class wrote on her notebooks.

They tried to tell authorities of what happened. That there was no way it was an accident. The caving in of her skull was proof enough. Unfortunately, everyone brushed it off and left them in the dark.

You remain silent. She cups your cheeks with a smile.

“You’re angry aren’t you, baby? You want to see the world and see on fire, don’t you? That’s exactly how I felt when that bitch tried to take you away from me. Watching her laugh next to you. Hold you in her arms. It was all a damn lie, and now I’m gonna tell you the truth.” 

She leans in, placing a bloodied kiss to your lips. “She never loved you, Y/n. It was all me, my sweet Valentine.”

enemies to lovers with natasha . . . where the avengers team thought it was a good idea to spend the holidays in your cabin by the woods. where they know you and nat won't get along well, but hey, it's not an avengers holiday without a bit of drama.

enemies to lovers with natasha . . . where she secretly gets jealous when steve holds you by the waist to help you balance while you put the star on top of the tree. where she'll 'accidentally' spill hot chocolate on your shirt so you can borrow one of hers, because apparently 'hers fit you the best'.

enemies to lovers with natasha . . . where you find her up late at night drinking half of your bottle of wine. where she'll complain that she couldn't sleep because it was 'too cold'. where you'll eventually join her to the point you're both drunk and laughing, where you actually start to get along for once.

enemies to lovers with natasha . . . where all of that wine makes natasha drunkenly confess to you. and since you have been drinking the wine too you didn't process it correctly. but as everyone says, drunk words are just sober thoughts. thoughts that both you and nat have been hiding.

enemies to lovers with natasha . . . where nat wakes up in your bed with you sleeping beside her, her head dizzy from last nights wine. she must've complained too much about her room being too cold to the point you suggest sleeping in your bed together.

where you wake up with nat staring at you confused, rubbing her head. "what are you doing in my bed?" you groan, rubbing your eyes as you try to remember what led to this. "you snore loudly." she replies, causing you to roll your eyes. "get out of my bed. you have your own room here." you stare, natasha smirks teasingly before getting out of your bed.

enemies to lovers with natasha . . . where a small saying leads into a heated argument. too heated the point nat pins you near one of the door frames that leads to a hallway. where you'll send her a flirty remark before looking up to see she's under a mistletoe you strategically hung.

enemies to lovers with natasha . . . where she'll look up to see the mistletoe, one of her hands still pinning you against the door frame. "are you scared of a little fake plant?" you'll challenge her, "no." the tension between you and her growing. "well then do it." you smirk, "do what?" — "kiss me." and so she did, which left you speechless and blushing.

"do you want me to do that again? this mistletoe isn't going anywhere."

requested by @patriphagy ! (my reqs for nat r open btw)

i would sell my firstborn for more Edira 😍

A/N: So glad you enjoy her o(*￣▽￣*)o ! I got this lil snippet idea out of thin air so I hope it suffices that dom lady craving. Also, unfortunately I'll likely be a bit slow about answering requests until I get out of this funk of neverending procrastination and lack of motivation.

Anniversary-- -----------------------------------------------

(OC) Edira X Gn! Reader

CW: Borderline NSFT, power imbalance, manipulation, blackmail, forced relationship

Kisses. Soft teeth, smudged lipstick on skin, and the ticklish trails of cold fingers up and down your chest. Stained lips trailed from your ear to your jaw, sending electric shivers down your spine. The hairs on your neck stood on end every time her hot breath made contact– the warm, humidity of her mouth scraping over your sensitive nerves. She didn't speak much, only occasionally making light of how so easily you were embarrassing yourself, how simple it was to tease you with a little touch after the wine you both shared during dinner. Your anniversary dinner, to be in fact. 

"I'm not one for extravagant celebrations," Edira told you beforehand. "But, since you've been so well-behaved… well, there may be a small reward awaiting you."

It had been a year since you were manipulated into her schemes of being her pretend spouse, but only 7 months since you officially became her real, blackmailed lover. Instead of fake make-out sessions and lies on your sex life, Edira made sure to indulge in each fabrication to the point where it was no longer fiction. She had you wrapped around her finger so tightly with the domineering threat of destroying your life. At first, you completely believed she lacked the hesitation to make the rest of your days miserable if you dared to defy her. But since that initial judgment, this past year has… mildly, altered your opinion. You don't doubt that she would make you pay dearly if you decided to leave, but now… an inkling of you believes that she might truly, irreversibly be attached to you.  

From the way her touch began to linger, how her possessiveness grew over the months of affection, her vulnerability becoming more present-- it was an interesting sight to see. If you had left her now, you knew she'd feel betrayed, rather than angry. However, such an emotion could do far more damage than you could imagine. 

"Edira," you griped, the merlot still working its magic and making you a hazy disaster. 

Edira groaned into your skin. With the cusp of her fingertips she turned your face towards hers. "Yes, my little pet…"

"You're making me all dirty." You mumbled, smudging the prints of red lipstick that were prevalent on your chest and stomach. 

She rubbed your cheek, spreading what you can only imagine being more of her lipstick marks. "It's not dirt, it's my affection."

"You know what I mean," you grin, looking at her with half-lidded eyes. 

Edira laughs at your expense, looking from your lips to your eyes. "Seems like you can't handle your liquor that well, love. What happened to your boast of 'not being a lightweight'?"

She grins as you lean backward into her touch, her hand forcing your neck down to push your head into her chest. Your clothes were half way unbuttoned and removed, More so then Edira's as she started teasing before you could comprehend what was going on. 

You moaned into her shoulder, fluttering your eyelashes upwards. She slid her hands over your bare chest, looking down at your pitiful, tipsy state. It felt warm, having her hands cover your skin and the buzz of her voice fill your ears. 

You immediately tensed up as her hand came down just to lightly pat your crotch. The wine had made you so unraveled and needy, to the point where any surprise touch left you in a state of high sensitivity. 

"Edira--!" You gripped onto her pencil skirt, leaning upward out of stimulation. Edira caught you in a kiss, her lips hungry for the taste of your mouth. You had been lucky, having her prioritize your pleasure so willingly without making a fuss. But now, it was her turn to have some fun. "T's too much.." you  groan with your lips closed, feeling that hot rush of embarrassment come back as she laughed condescendingly. 

"Awe, too much for you, sweet thing? But you were able to take it so well before…" she gave you a fake pout of sympathy that made frustration rise in your chest, her soft hands unbuttoning your bottoms. "Besides, you acted so eager earlier, so desperate to be touched, I thought you despised me?."

"It's too much now…can't take it, please.." 

You let out an uncharacteristically loud moan at feeling her hand cup the skin of your chest, pushing her thumb in your mouth and against your tongue. 

"You can take it, and you will."

Edira pressed another lipstick-covered smooch to your neck, sucking gently on the skin. 

"But it's our anniversary," you argue with a full mouth, tongue still sliding against her finger. Shutting your eyes, you feel the heat of her breath on your back.

"It's my anniversary too, you know. Don't I deserve to have some fun?"

You knew better than to answer that, instead kicking your feet like a child. 

"Not fair--" you hiccup, letting out another tensed expression as Edira turned your face towards her. Her heavy chest pressed up against your back, leading your inebriated mind to come up with fantasies you knew she'd mock you for. 

"Maybe not. But has it ever been fair?"

Edira parted her mouth, inviting herself to your merlot-flavored tongue and weak lips. She kissed you so slowly, the messiness of her desire making your senses cloud and pulling you to sloppy kisses. 

"You don't get to make big decisions like that on account of being mine, sweet thing." She brushed her knuckle against your cheek,  speaking the condescending pet name and watching your helpless eyes. 

 But don't fret we're celebrating," She grinned, giving that sadistic, fear-inducing smile-- the one she always gave when she had something in store.

" Happy anniversary, darling."

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Words: 1k

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader (Godly parent not specified)

Synopsis: Clarisse was fine with not getting anything she wanted until she laid her eyes on you.

Warnings: Pining, whipped!Clarisse, This is mostly in Clarisse's POV, handling of dangerous weapons (a dagger and a spear). [Let me know if I missed any.]

A/N: I apologize if the storyline is messy. I wanted this to be longer, but my attention span was not cooperating with me today. I had to take a lot of breaks while writing this because I could not sit still for more than five minutes.

masterlist || previous work

—

Clarisse remembers the first time she saw you.

You were in the forge, polishing some of the newly-made spears because you had nothing better to do. You were under the supervision of Luke since he was showing you around, but the boy had kept his distance, opting to just watch from the sidelines as you worked. Clarisse had walked into the forge, the chatter that was going on around you stopping. You discontinued what you were doing in order to look at her, wondering why your fellow campers were on-edge at her presence.

Your eyes met hers, taking her aback.

She hadn’t seen you before.

Once Clarisse realized that she was staring, she promptly cleared her throat, scowling. “What are you looking at, newbie?” She asked, crossing her arms. Her plans on scaring you, however, failed when you smiled sheepishly.

You had been equally mesmerized by her, something that she failed to notice. “Sorry, you’re just so—”

Clarisse held her breath, preparing herself for an accusation (that she’s mean and terrifying – both of which are true, but words that sting nonetheless). Though, it’s not like she’s going to think about it for the rest of –

“—Pretty.” You conclude your sentence.

Oh.

Clarisse’s brows furrowed. She thought she would hear something insulting, but instead she was met with a compliment? Her eyes searched yours once again, looking for a trace of malice. She didn’t find any, which made her confusion stir all the more. She scoffs, furious at herself for not being able to figure you out. “Whatever.” Clarisse walks away, turning her back on you so as to not show her weakness. She storms back to the Ares cabin, forgetting the reason why she went to the forge in the first place.

You frown as you look at the dagger in your hand, examining the initials engraved on the grip.

C.L.R.

---

The next time Clarisse saw you was when you were watching her train, your eyes following her every move. Clarisse pretended to ignore you until she found herself unable to focus. She put down her spear, turned to you and asked, “Would you like me to teach you?” before she could even stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”

You walked over and Clarisse pretty much had to use all her self-restraint to not just stand there and stare at you.

“…Alright, so you hold this and—”

---

It had been ages since that day.

Even though you and Clarisse have gotten closer, there was still a part of her that longs for more. See, ninety-nine percent of the time, her wishes don’t come true. Or it does, for a little while, but then it gets ripped away from her grasp. She gets her hopes up and then it all comes crashing down – a cycle that never ends.

Clarisse has come to terms with the thought that she will never gets what she wants. She supposed that she was okay with that, but then you came along and everything changed. For every smile, every crinkle of your nose, every stupid joke that made you laugh, she finds herself wanting to wish that you would feel the same way she does.

“Clary?”

She snaps out of her reverie and looks at you, “Yes?” She felt embarrassed for not paying attention, smiling apologetically.

“I asked if you wanted to—”

“Yes.”

You sit up in her bed, laughing. “I haven’t even finished the sentence yet.” You grab her hand gingerly, locking your fingers together. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me—”

“Yes.”

“Clarisse,” You whine, “Let me continue first.” You pout, trying to let go of her hand, but Clarisse wouldn’t let you.

Clarisse shakes her head, holding on to your hand firmly while her other brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care. I’ll go wherever you go.” She says genuinely. Being that close to you made Clarisse’s heart race, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to look away because then you’ll know that something was up.

You stare at her in disbelief, crossing your arms, “Really? You’ll go with me to show the new kid around camp?”

Her lips purse and you know you’ve got her. Clarisse lets out a sigh of resignation. “No.” She mumbles. As much as she’d love to spend more time with you, she and you have very opposing ideas on how to welcome new campers.

“Thought so.” You deadpan.

“Why are you the one doing it, anyway?”

“Because I’m still in trouble for staying past curfew two days ago, pretty girl.”

Clarisse froze at the nickname. If her heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. You chuckle, beginning to make your way out of the bed. “Hey, no, where are you going?” Clarisse grabs your hand, another laugh escaping you.

“To give that tour.” You roll your eyes, successfully prying your hands away from Clarisse’s grip. You ignore her sounds of protest as you make your way to the door.

Clarisse could feel her stomach drop, feeling the warmth slip away the further your distance becomes. The longer she stares at you with your back turned, the longer she thinks you would leave without saying goodbye. To her surprise (and not for the first time), you look back at her.

“I’ll see you later at the bonfire.” You lean against the doorframe, your eyes narrowing. “Don’t be late, alright?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes at the look you give her. She was only late one time and that was because she was debating with herself whether to give you flowers or not. She wanted to tell you the real reason why she was late, but decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I won’t.” She says instead.

“Good.” You straighten your posture, putting one foot out the door while a hand rested on the doorframe, giving Clarisse a smile she knows you only reserved for her. Only when she smiles back do you actually take your leave.

Clarisse gets a sense of hope upon your departure.

Maybe it would be different this time.

She leans back against the bed frame, sending out the same prayer to every god she could think of.

Please, please, please let me get what I want.