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macfrog · 7 months

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call me

idea came to me in a dream. enjoy also! i made a notifs blog! taglist life is NOT for me, babies. feel free to head on over, follow and turn notifs on to be updated anytime i post! 👉 @macfroglets 👈 you’re gonna wanna do it before this sunday…😉🤠

inspired by @bageldaddy who is the author of the dreamiest series on this site, my biggest crush, and also told me not to tag her but i respect my elders so.

pairing: joel miller x call girl!reader

summary: you moonlight as a call girl, receiving mediocre call after mediocre call. one night, one joel miller dials in, and grants you the most exciting ten minutes of your career

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) this fic is pro-sex work. reader is a phone sex operator, mentions of anal and oral, dirty talk, couple mentions of daddy, praise kink, mutual masturbation, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 3k

main masterlist

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb. “You’re gonna touch yourself.” “That what you want?” “’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

It started out as a joke, if you’re being honest.

A wine-drunk night with Liv, sat at opposite ends of the couch, legs intertwined somewhere in the middle of the cushions. Her blouse was stained pink – your fault, apparently, for making her laugh too hard. Her glass tilted a fraction too far and before you knew it, you owed her a new shirt.

“Say it again, say it how he said it,” she snorted, patting her chest down with the damp towel you’d handed her.

“…quite frankly, disappointed with your performance,” your head tilted back and forth, mocking the nasally voice of your fifty-one-year-old, receding-hairline-equipped boss. Ex-boss. Asshole.

“Oh, fuck,” she heaved, still catching her breath. “That’s so fucking funny.”

You sighed in agreement.

“So…what are you actually gonna do now?”

You shrugged. “Sell my body.”

“Dare you.”

“I would.”

“I know you would. And you’d be good at it, too. ‘s why I’m telling you to do it.”

You kicked her ankle. “I got bills to pay, dude.”

“What about one of those call girls?”

And, well. That was that.

You’d googled it after seeing her off to her own apartment, watching her wobbly form stagger across the hall and stab her key a few times into the wood before it landed in the lock. The door closed with an accidental slam which echoed up the stone stairwell, and you crept back to your own place.

Palms either side of your laptop on the counter, face lit in a blue glow, dripdripdrip of your busted tap echoing around your dark kitchen. They asked for an email address – you used the one you’d made up before you realized email addresses were permanent – and a phone number. Said someone would call you to discuss it. You shrugged, hit Sign up and went to bed.

Within hours, you’d spoken to some sharp-accented woman who asked quick, snappy questions and uhuhed her way through your answers. Her name was Erica. She told you she’d look after you, told you to call her with any questions or concerns you had.

All she wanted from you were the basics: you liked sex, you masturbated, you knew how to dirty talk. You sorta knew your way around things like anal, and could manage a convincing pitch for things of a more…exploratory nature.

And then she asked when you wanted to start. You told her that night.

Your first caller – like, ever – was some guy with a midwestern accent who asked you to narrate fucking him. Like, spanking him with a paddle, calling him a bad, bad boy. You threw your nerves to the wind and went along with it, and honestly, had a pretty rad time. He was cool.

But one was enough for your first night. You logged out and went to bed. You told Liv the next morning, and she punched your arm a little too hard and yelled, That’s my fuckin’ girl! Was it hot? Did you…y’know?

No. You never get that lucky. Some calls you can lie idly on your couch and let your limp hand surf beneath the hem of your underwear, push lazy circles against your clit as the dude moans in your ear or gasps when you whine.

Sometimes their mics can pick up the faint sound of them jacking off, and your brain slips you an image that makes your stomach flutter. Sometimes you’ll hang up and take yourself the whole nine yards with your laptop sitting on your mattress, porn on the screen, and your vibrator between your open legs.

It’s pretty intense work. Sometimes.

But all in all: no. You never…y’know.

One week in, you were cooking dinner whilst telling Trevor – thirty-nine, Buffalo, New York – how you’d take his huge, throbbing dick in your throat and let him fuck it. He asked to hear how turned on you were, just talking about it. You lowered your phone down to the pot of macaroni and gave it a stir.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned down the line, “you’re so fuckin’ wet right now, huh?”

Huh.

Tonight, you had pizza rolls. Less sexy.

You just got off another call. Thirty minutes of describing how good you’d take him up your ass. You’re bored, turned off by this point, and tired. It’s almost 3AM.

You pace around your apartment, flicking switches off and tossing cushions back into place. Spilling small sips of wine from your glass onto your tongue as you’re plunged into darkness, one click at a time.

You don’t get much while the sun’s up. Most days, nothing at all. That works for you, though. You can run errands, grab groceries, do sweet-fucking-nothing whilst waiting for the influx of calls that will inevitably come your way by nightfall. When the streetlights come on, the rush hour traffic dies out front, the shuffling of tired feet up the concrete staircase outside your front door slows down – you just log in, and your cell will eventually start to ring.

Your cell, which now lies wedged between the couch cushions. You notice the sound of it vibrating as you’re pulling your curtains closed. Half-way shut, you desert them and wander over. Intrigued.

No Caller ID. The usual. You swipe right. The robotic voice tells you there’s a request on your account for a ten-minute call. Tells you to dial 1 to accept, or hang up.

Ten minutes? At three in the morning?

Usually, at this time of night, they’re longer. They’re drunk, or their partner finally fell asleep, or they just want your attention for a bit. See them through the uncomfortably quiet night.

But ten fucking minutes?

Ten minutes would make you somewhere around thirty-five dollars. They had the option as the timer ran out to extend the call, if they wanted. Most of them did. And that worked fine for you.

You’re unemployed. Who knows what money you’ll have in a week’s time? An extra thirty bucks – probably more – right before bed? A little nightcap?

You dial in and answer the call.

He doesn’t say anything when it connects. You hear the ruffling of clothes.

Your voice naturally dips a couple octaves, coats in something smooth and husky. Glistening, gleaming, sex-driven. “Hello?”

He clears his throat. His voice is deep, rich. More vibration than speech. He speaks with a Southern drawl, like bare skin running over silken sheets. It’s smooth, and sensual, and sexy. “Evenin’.”

You knock the last light switch off with your hip and doddle through to your bedroom. Mornin’, actually. “Hi. What’re you after, baby?”

He takes a beat to reply. More ruffling. He chuckles a little before he says it. “Baby? That what you wanna call me?”

Your glass scrapes softly across your nightstand. You bounce down on your mattress, springs moaning as you roll onto your stomach. Knees bent, your ankles link in the air. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Guess we can figure that one out together.”

“Alright. I like a challenge. You wanna start with your name?”

Another pause. He sucks in a deep breath. “Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat, thumb picking at your nailbeds. “That’s a sexy name.”

He doesn’t respond. Just gives a non-committal grunt, and a smile pulls across your lips.

“What are you into, Joel?”

He sniffs. “Thought we could figure that out, too.”

Something in the way he says it, the curve in the words, maybe, tells you he knows damn well what he’s into. What he means is: you can figure that out by yourself.

Like you said: you like a fucking challenge.

“You like nicknames? Daddy? That kinda thing?”

A low growl passes his lips. “Not this early on, I don’t.”

You know from the hitch in his voice that he likes it. That little catch at the bottom of his throat, the way the words stumble on their way up. Know you’ve plucked a string deep inside.

“Well, you know you only got ten minutes, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“’kay,” you sing, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You exhale, drawing shapes on the pattern of your bedsheets. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinkin’ about, then? What’s on your mind, cowboy?”

Cowboy. It’s the accent. He sounds Texan, or something. His words float through the receiver all wound, coiled up and tight.

Joel doesn’t seem to care. He answers your question truthfully.

“Thinkin’ about what you’re doin’ right now.”

You smirk. Sometimes you like the attention, too. You turn your head, check the clock by your bed. Two minutes have passed.

“I’m…lying in bed, in the dark. Had a couple wines, feelin’ pretty good. But this is all about you, so.”

He chuckles softly. “’m lyin’ in bed, too. In the dark.”

“You feelin’ lonely?”

He takes another deep breath. You figure he does this before he gives most answers. He sounds the contemplative type. Always double, triple checking his sentences before he lets them go.

“Just need somethin’ to take the edge off.”

“Okay,” you breathe, “let me. What do you need?”

There’s a long break between the end of your question and the sound he makes before he answers. You pull the phone from your ear and glance at the screen to make sure it’s still connected. Time says another two minutes have passed.

Joel grumbles. It echoes around your ear like thunder in the distance. “You touchin’ yourself?” he eventually asks.

“Uhuh,” you reply, nails picking at a loose thread on your comforter.

“Yeah? How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you mewl, tugging at the seam. Your teeth grit as you yank at it. “So – fucking – good.”

There’s another growl from the other end. It vibrates through your speaker, purrs in your ear.

“You ain’t fuckin’ touchin’ yourself.”

Your hand stops. Your eyes stick on the thread. “I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how.”

You roll your eyes, turning onto your back. Your fingers play with the buttons of your shirt. Fuckin’ – tell me how. “I’m…” you sigh, “…I’m laying in bed, on my back. My hands are –”

“What you wearin’?”

“Isn’t that the sorta stuff you oughta ask when I first pick up?”

He speaks calmer. Clearer. You can hear the smile on his lips. “’m askin’ you now. What you wearin’, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. So he’s that type. Whatever. He’s kind of pissing you off.

“A shirt. And socks. And panties. No bra.”

“’n where you touchin’ yourself?”

You huff. “Between my –”

“Watch the attitude.”

You almost fucking laugh. Your breath escapes your chest in a silent burst. “Between my legs,” you tell him, flat and annoyed.

“Mhm. Above or beneath the panties?”

“Beneath, daddy.”

A tiny groan passes his lips. He doesn’t mean for it to, and a second, angry grumble follows, like he’s pissed at himself for letting it slip.

You take a lock of hair and twirl it around your finger, pulling tight until the tip whitens. “You touching yourself?” you ask, voice sickly sweet.

Joel ignores you. “Take it off. The shirt,” he clarifies, when you don’t answer.

You shuffle around a little, making sure he can hear the movement. You unbutton the shirt until it’s lying loose over your breasts, then tug it down over one shoulder.

“Alright,” you tell him with a heavy breath, laying back on the mattress, “it’s off.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Mhm.”

Joel chuckles under his breath. “Know when you’re lyin’, angel. Take – it – off. Don’t be a brat about it.”

This is half the game for him, you realize. This is his thing. He gives commands, you disobey them, and he kicks you into line. Tells you to behave.

You figure you like it almost as much, going by the heat pooling between your legs.

Your shoulders lift and you tug the shirt over them, tossing it to the floor. You lie back, bare against the sheets, and your hand instantly cups over your breast.

“Better,” Joel breathes.

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb.

“You’re gonna touch yourself.”

“That what you want?”

“’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

You don’t take much more convincing. Your hand slips down your front, cups over your mound. You gasp when your fingertips brush against your clit.

Joel hears. “Yeah,” he hums, “’s a good girl. Take those panties off ‘n rub that pretty little clit for me.”

Your fingertips give one last kiss to the fabric of your panties. Your mouth tips open a fraction. You suck in a quiet breath, and push your hips up off the bed. The lace slips down your thighs in one motion.

Joel’s grunting steadily now, small noises slipping past his lips and into your ear. You spread your legs and push against your bud again, massaging the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whine, and he groans in response.

“I know, I know,” he’s saying, and you hear the metal tinkle of his belt buckle. The fraying sound of denim being shifted. One slow, relief-filled groan.

His hands are on his cock.

You’d put more effort into caring that he’s been fully clothed this entire time, if you could think straight. You’re applying more pressure to your clit, rubbing faster, harder, then letting your fingers drift downward, move between your gleaming folds.

“Wish I was there with you so bad,” Joel purrs, and your eyes flutter open.

“Yeah?” you choke.

“Yeah.”

“What would you – do to me?”

He shudders. “Would fuck you real good, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, fingers circling faster.

There’s a gentle tugging; a rhythmic breathing. The odd break in his voice when his hand tightens, or you make a sweet little sound, or he catches himself giving too much away.

“Fuckin’ – be all over you. Nice ‘n hard. You want that?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, panting. “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah, you do,” Joel says. You can hear the sticky sound of his precum, leaking from his tip and running between his fingers, being pumped down his shaft by his fist. “Feels good, angel, don’t it? When you do what you’re told?”

“Y-eah,” you whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you picture a tight fist choking a thick cock. Picture that same fist unwinding, curving around your mound, fingers pushing deep inside you.

“Joel,” you whimper, and your fingers move down again, dipping nearer your tight, wet hole.

He grunts in response. “Don’t – not yet,” he tells you.

You whine.

“You got somethin’ else to use?” he asks, then interrupts before you can answer. “Yeah, you do. Go get it, sweetheart. Tell me what you got.”

“V-vibrator,” you mumble, hoisting yourself up and lunging across the bed to your nightstand. You haul the drawer open and sift between balled-up socks until you’re clutching the long, thick shape, fingers tight around the dips and curves.

“Let me hear it, angel.”

You click the button and the toy whirrs to life, vibrating strongly in your hand.

Joel hisses. “Alright, sweetheart, lie back. Gonna put it on that pretty little pussy, alright? Gonna make yourself cum for me.”

“Uhuh,” you murmur, one hand lowering the vibrator between your legs, the other holding the phone to your ear in a vice grip.

You push the round tip down to your clit and your head falls back with a loud moan. Joel sends one straight back at the sound of yours. It fades into a whimper, a desperate cry as you massage yourself with your toy.

Your legs clench as you dip it lower, letting the head nudge against your entrance, sending flutters of pleasure across your dripping cunt.

“Don’t fuck yourself,” Joel instructs, and your hand quickly pulls back. “Save it.”

This mystery man, who you’ve known for – if your clock is right – eight minutes, now; whose name is the most information you’ve gotten out of him; and whose face you couldn’t pick in a lineup…has such a hold on you, that your body instinctively reacts to his every word. An automatic reaction to do exactly as he says, when, five minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get him off the phone.

You fucking listen to him. Save it for what? your head asks, and you ignore it. You don’t push the toy any closer to your center.

It drives hard against your clit, fast vibrations rippling down on the hot, swollen skin. It sends floods of warmth between your legs, drawing your arousal slick and wet from between your folds.

Your chest is damp, gleaming with sweat. Your breath cuts short in your throat, guttural noises replacing it as they reverberate through your mouth, across your tongue and into your dark bedroom.

Your walls start to clamp around nothing. You angle the vibrator so that it sends deep pulses across your pussy, shutting your eyes to picture Joel’s thick cock burying deep inside you as you climax with a loud, broken cry.

“Yeah, good girl. That’s it. Sound so pretty, angel. ‘s a good girl.”

You’re whimpering his name as you come down, holding the toy to your clit and letting your high wash over you. Your chest jumps, breaths heavy and staggered, gasping for air and then letting it rush out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“You know how good you are at that?” he asks, when your breath steadies again.

You giggle softly. “’s why I do it, baby.”

“Worth every fuckin’ penny.”

You sit in the post-orgasm haze for a few seconds, waiting for the room to stop spinning and your body to feel like yours again. You pull the phone from your sweat-stuck cheek and glance at the time. You have less than thirty seconds left. Joel seems to do the same, for his voice returns to your ear in a gentle, low whisper.

“Alright. Speak soon, angel. Be good.”

The call cuts.

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taglist: @slvbl @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @acornacreacure @totallynotastanacc @alejaa-a @aphterthoughtt @pedroluver @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @atticrissfinch @pascalpvnk @lizzyervs @jediknightjana @jessie8605 @iknowisoundcrazy @caitispunk @vickie5446 @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(psst! after this weekend my taglist is no more! follow @macfroglets + turn on notifs if you wanna be in the know when i post!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller x callgirl!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller

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thisisourlovestory · 2 months

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It’s Nice to Have a Friend

part 2- the chronicles of a stargirl and her sun masterlist

Luke Castellan x reader

Summary- the first full day at camp where slight drama unfolds and you make a new friend

Word count- 5.4k

Notes- thank you @imaginingmoonlight again for the vibe (I don’t know what else to call it) and I’d also like to say that I was actually inspired to write this series by @tangledinlove because the killerverse is amazing and I love it so also thanks to her otherwise I wouldn’t have done this.

Taglist:

@abbersreads @tenshis-cake

“We've just got to find out what you're good at first.” Annabeth explained as you walked beside her. “It might be that you are just really bad at using weapons but don't feel bad. You barely nicked him and he was standing in the wrong place so it was technically his own fault.” You winced.

“I didn't mean to, I swear, it just kinda slipped out of my hand before I was ready.” Annabeth grinned.

“At least you know to never try to throw a javelin when we do sports unless you want to skewer someone.” You glared at her.

“I'm glad someone is enjoying my embarrassment. I could have killed him! And then what would happen? Besides, I don't think that helped my prospects of making any friends here other than you.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“You'll make friends. It's just that you're new and the circumstances were interesting to say the least. Also it is spring so there are way less people here than there will be in summer.” You sent her an unimpressed look.

“You can't talk. Everyone loves you. I'll bet even Mr D doesn't hate you as much as the rest of us.”

“That is a lie. Plenty of campers don't like me.”

“Oh really? Name one.” You crossed your arms over your chest as she struggled to answer. “Didn't think so.” You said smugly as she stuck her tongue out.

“We've got to get to the armoury. It's time to try out sword fighting.” You paled.

“Can we not skip it?”

“Not a chance.”

Annabeth rummaged through a pile of swords. Occasionally picking one up to show to you and immediately putting it back down at your face. You wandered around the armoury, glancing every once in a while at Annabeth to check she hadn't cut herself accidentally. Finally she emerged from the pile, holding a sword triumphantly above her head.

“This one is perfect.” She held it out and you gingerly took it. The bronze blade was sharp and shining, the smooth metal cold to the touch.

“I don't see why I can't just use my knife.” She sighed.

“Because it's not made of celestial bronze so it won't kill monsters. Now get out there, I'll be out in a moment to teach you some stuff.” You trudged out and took your place on the sawdust, swinging the sword from side to side, letting the tip brush the floor lightly. Annabeth followed out quickly and got into position.

“Just try and land a hit on me.” You gaped at her.

“You want me to try and hit you?” She shrugged.

“It's a good way to test if you have a natural ability for sword fighting” Without warning she swung her sword forward and you lifted your own to block the blow.

“Not bad.” She swung again and you stumbled back slightly to avoid the hit.

“So I just kinda,” You swept the sword in front of you and Annabeth jumped back to avoid it, “Actually I think that works.” Annabeth slashed her blade through the air and you ducked, sweeping your own out in a wide arc, hitting her ankles with the flat side of the blade. She hissed at the sting and narrowed her eyes as you rose up and smiled. She rained down a flurry of blows on you and you blocked each one as well as you could, ending up with a multitude of tiny nicks on your arms. You rolled onto the floor to dodge a particularly well aimed stab headed straight for your neck and twirled the sword in the air before thrusting it forward to just under her chin. Annabeth’s eyes widened in shock before a grin took over her face.

“Not bad, but-” She grabbed the hilt of your sword and twisted, forcing you to let go and allowing her to poke you lightly in the stomach. “I win.” She handed you back the sword and you stabbed it into the ground. “Rule number one is never let up your guard, always be expecting an attack. It’s what keeps you alive. But for your first time you did pretty good. Better than most, and with a little training you’ll be able to beat me.” You hummed.

“Maybe. But the sword feels…wrong in my hands. Like I shouldn’t be holding it.” Annabeth frowned.

“We do still need to try out some other weapons. You might like them more.” She turned and walked back to the armoury, gesturing for you to follow her. “You’re doing archery later but for now grab some knives or daggers and try to throw them at those targets over there.” You did as she instructed and gathered a collection of bronze knives, carrying them over to a bench and dumping them on it with a clatter. You squinted at a target, judging how far the distance was and picked up one of the knives.

“Wait for me before you throw them.” Annabeth started but you had already tossed it up into the air allowing it to spin and then caught it and threw it full speed across the room. In a blur it hit dead centre. Annabeth looked at you surprised. “I guess you can throw.” You were already throwing more knives at the other targets, each one making a dull thudding as they hit home in the bullseye. You huffed and pushed your hair out of your eyes as you finished, sweat dripping from your brow, eyes sparkling with exhilaration.

“That. Was. Amazing!.” You exclaimed and twirled on the spot. “Did you see that? It was so cool.” She nodded, calculating, but you didn't notice. Too caught up in your own achievement.

“Yeah those throws were scary accurate for a beginner.”

“I think we've found what I'm good at.” She laughed.

“Not so fast, you've still gotta try out archery. And Luke is helping with that. He couldn't help now cause he had to supervise the climbing wall. Make sure nobody gets burned alive that kind of stuff. But he's taking you for your first archery lesson later, responsibilities that come with being head counsellor of the Hermes cabin. That and none of the current Apollo kids stay year round yet.” She rambled and you watched with an amused smile. “Anyway we have to get going for lunch, since it's not summer and there's not so many people we don't have to sit at designated tables like usual, if we did most people would literally just be sitting by themselves and that's just sad.” Your stomach rumbled and you glared down at it before looking up at her sheepishly.

“I'm apparently incredibly hungry so please lead the way.” She rolled her eyes and discarded her sword in a pile, kicked open the door and began the fairly long walk to the mess hall. You both trudged past the cabins where all the other campers were also starting to walk to the mess hall. There weren't many at all, about twenty across all twelve cabins, chattering happily to one another as they walked in a clump. Everyone sat down on random benches, presumably with their friends, and piled the food that appeared on the tables onto their plates in mountains.

There was a varied selection of food, all stacked in heaps so they filled up all the available space, there was something for everyone. Breads, cheeses and cuts of meat spread out for a buffet style meal, pots of soup, bowls with all kinds of pasta, rice and meat coated in sticky sweet sauces. There were even baskets stacked with fresh fruit surrounded by tiny bite sized sweets covered in sugar. Annabeth grabbed some food for herself and picked up some meat from a pile that stained her fingers red.

“Try this it's good, It's beef marinated in some random sauce and then cooked on the barbecue. Nobody actually knows what's in the sauce but it's kinda spicy.” She paused thoughtfully. “And it has garlic in it. I think.” She licked her fingers, getting rid of the red stain as you followed her advice and plated some of the beef along with rice and a warm bread roll dripping with butter. Annabeth immediately made her way over to the fire and dropped some food into it, you snatched up a bunch of grapes and followed suit. As the grapes fell into the flames you shut your eyes and bent your neck slightly.

“Hi, it's me, again. I don't know who you are but could you maybe send a sign or something. It couldn't hurt. Could it?” You mumbled and straightened up as smoke rose into the air smelling like every kind of food you could ever imagine.

“I really can see why they like burnt food.” You stated as you sat down next to Annabeth at a table. “It smells annoyingly good.” You took a bite of food. “And that's delicious as well.” She smiled, taking a bite of her own food.

“Told you so.” You both ate in silence, too occupied with savouring every bite that you forgot to ask any questions. All too soon the lunch break was over and Annabeth was directing you to the archery field.

“So you basically just follow the path past the Big House and he said he'd be waiting for you there and if you got lost he'd go and find you.” She turned around as someone called her name and yelled back. “Give me a minute.” She looked back at you. “Have fun and I'll see you later at dinner.” She spun on her heel and ran off as you did the same and walked in the opposite direction.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked through the woods, the trees shading you from the sun. Dust from the path floated in the air as you kicked the stones from it and into the grass, other campers passed you once or twice, attempting to whisper to each other about you and failing as their voices rang out like foghorns through the otherwise silent trees. You passed the Big House and caught Chiron watching. You waved slightly and continued without waiting to see if he responded. After a few more minutes of walking you arrived at the archery field to see the targets lined up and a selection of bows laid on the grass ready for use. You looked around and saw nobody. Not a single soul in sight. He's probably just running late, you thought, Annabeth said he was head of the Hermes cabin though so he must be busy taking care of something. So you waited. You sat down on the damp floor and fiddled around, picking blades of grass and twisting them around your fingers as tightly as possible before they snapped, plucking daisies, weaving them into a crown and placing it on your head. You even resorted to picking up one of the bows, subsequently snapping the string across your hand and leaving a raised red line across the palm of it. Then you settled back down, made yourself comfortable and placed your chin in your hand. You hadn't meant to fall asleep but the night before had been almost sleepless, tossing and turning in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar people in some of the other bunks. So you somehow ended up drifting off with the warm heat of the sun on your back and a cool breeze blowing across your face.

You woke up just as suddenly as you had fallen asleep, an owl hooted softly and you realised it was growing dark. The sun almost completely set in the horizon, only a thin sliver of light peeking out from behind the trees. You got to your feet and began the march up to the cabins. It was most definitely too late for dinner but you remembered Annabeth mentioning there was a campfire tonight. You followed the smoke rising in the distance and the faint glow of the flames, tripping over the occasional dip in the ground and sliding over the grass. Shortly, you arrived at the campfire and Annabeth spotted you almost immediately, jumping to her feet and running over.

“Where were you?” She asked, an accusatory tone to her voice and a frown on her face. “I couldn't find you anywhere. And what is that in your hair?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” You mumbled, sitting down and reaching out for a stick; shoving a marshmallow onto it then holding it above the fire to toast.

“Did you suck at archery?” You laughed half heartedly at her question.

“I wouldn't know yet Annabeth.” She tilted her head and studied you puzzled before a look of understanding passed over her face.

“He didn't teach you any archery.”

“He didn't even bother to show up.” You corrected, pulling the marshmallow out of reach from the fire and blowing on it slightly as you grabbed two chocolate covered biscuits with the other hand and mashed the marshmallow between them. The chocolate melted, mixing with the gooey melted mess of marshmallow. You lifted it to your mouth and took a bite.

“And I don’t care at the moment. I just want to eat my smore. I forgot how good they were, do you want one?”

“No I already had some. I’ve been meaning to ask you, where did you get that hoodie from?”

“Oh it was waiting for me yesterday when I woke up. Probably just a spare one from lost and found since my clothes were ruined.”

“Right, lost and found.” Annabeth sat still for a second then grabbed your hand and dragged you around the campfire to the opposite side despite your protests.

“Why are you so freakishly strong?”

“I am not freakishly strong! And that hoodie, not from lost and found.” She stopped in her tracks as you looked at her confused.

“Huh.”

“Never mind, it’s just a hoodie. Now I have to have a little chat with Luke.” She continued to drag you until you both stood directly in front of him.

“Hey Annabeth.” Luke greeted her with a grin as he stopped talking to the people sitting around him. “What's up?”

“What's up?” She seethed. “What's up is I asked you to help earlier and you didn't want to so I pretty much begged until you said yes because I had something important on.” She took a deep breath and tears filled her eyes. “And then you didn't even do what you said you would.”

“Annabeth…”

“No don't,” She interrupted, “I don't know what exactly your problem is with Y/N since you seemed fine with her last night when she woke up but you're going to sort it out right now.” She punctuated her sentence by pushing you down next to him.

“Can we have a minute.” Luke said to the others and they all obliged, walking over to other people laughing and sneaking peeks back. “Annabeth, seriously why would you think I have a problem with Y/N?”

“You didn't want to help her, you made up fake excuses to get out of it and then you agreed but didn't follow through. So you have some kind of problem otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that.” She crossed her arms and you spoke up.

“Annabeth it's fine, really it's fine. I don't mind if Luke doesn't like me. It's not a big deal.”

“It's a big deal to me! I want you to be friends. And you'll be really good friends I swear. So can you sort out whatever is wrong and get along please. Ask each other some questions, get to know each other better. Say twenty each?” With that she ran back to the other side of the campfire to her siblings leaving you both staring after her in shock. After a moment Luke broke the silence.

“Where did you come here from?” You blinked and answered slowly.

“I lived in the UK until I was eight then moved to the USA because my parents got a job offer.” His eyes sharpened.

“Parents?”

“Yeah. I was adopted, I don't know who my real parents were. Suppose I might find out who one of them is someday though. How about you?”

“Grew up in Connecticut, ran away when I was nine.” You stared at him vaguely shocked. From everything you had heard from Annabeth, Luke was the golden boy and he had run away from home. It was hard to believe but the bitter look in his eyes quickly changed your mind.

“When you were nine. So you were homeless for how long?” He shrugged.

“Five years. But I'm here now, and I've got Annabeth and my half siblings.” You hummed and shuffled around on the log, crossing your legs and leaning forward on your hands facing him.

“How did you meet Annabeth?”

“Just before we arrived at camp, we were walking down an alley and she jumps out and almost knocks my head in with a hammer.” He laughed slightly. “We took her in and then we got here.” You tilted your head.

“We?” His expression changed immediately. “Don't want to talk about it. Got it.” He looked at you.

“Annabeth is my little sister. Not by blood but by choice. We’re family and it seems she wants you to be part of our family.”

“You are very close to each other having known each other for so little time.” He smiled slightly.

“I would say she’s easy to like but that’s not entirely true.”

“Yes she can be quite intense at times. And I’ve only known her a day, can’t imagine what she must be like once you’ve known her a bit longer than that.” You grinned at him and tilted your head. “Must be unbearable.”

“You get used to it. Annabeth is Annabeth, she’s smarter than everyone, always six steps ahead of everyone else, she’s an incredible fighter and along with that she’s stubborn as a mule. But I wouldn’t change anything about her because then she wouldn’t be Annabeth.” He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, holding his clasped hands in front of him.

“I am sorry I missed your archery lesson. I didn’t mean to I just got caught up practising.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Practising what?”

“Sword fighting. I’m supposed to be the best swordsman in three hundred years and I need to practise if I ever want to go on a quest.” You hummed noncommittally.

“I suppose that makes sense.”

You turned to look at the fire. The flames a bright yellow, dancing up into the sky, twisting and turning, bright against the darkness of the night. Your eyes followed the smoke, whispers of grey spiralling up, up, up into the atmosphere.

“I can give you the lesson now if you’d like.” Your eyes widened in surprise as you turned to face him.

“You would?”

“It’s the least I can do to make up for skipping out on you earlier.” He quickly stood up and held out his hand. “Coming?” You smiled brightly and grabbed his hand.

“Lead the way Castellan.”

“Remind me why we're in the armoury again.”

“You need a good bow before you can shoot right. So here we are.” He raised his hands and turned in a circle. “Take your pick.” You rummaged through the bows, picking one up occasionally to inspect it. There were so many different styles, some smaller, some larger, some metal, some wooden, some decorated and ornate; others as plain as could be. The difference between being inconspicuous and wanting to show off. You stepped over to a crate and pushed off the lid, letting it fall on the ground with a bang. You shuffled through the few bows stored in the crate, disgust filling your face at the ostentatious designs.

“Do people just use these to look cool?”

“Some of the Apollo kids definitely do. But they can shoot with any bow and make the shot so it doesn’t really matter to them.” He picked one up and held it out. “This one looks like it’d fit you.” You scrunched your nose.

“It’s too…much. Yeah, it’s too much.” You slid over to another rack and pulled some off.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever find…” Your voice trailed off as you picked one up from the very back, pulling it out of the pile that it was buried under. The bow was a smooth crescent, dipping in the middle, covered with strips of leather, with slightly curved ends, pointed and dipped in silver. The wood was engraved with miniature flowers and vines, each petal painted delicately with faded colours of red, blue and purple, the vines thin lines of green weaving through them. Your fingers floated over them, tracing each petal's outline with a look of wonderment on your face.

“Well how about this one?” You snapped your head up quickly, holding the bow close to your body, Luke raised his eyebrows. “You good?” You cleared your throat.

“This one. This is the one.”

“Are you sure? This one,” He waved the one in his hand in the air,”Is particularly nice and actually new, made only a couple of days ago.” You regarded the one he was holding with disdain. It was plain, nothing that made it stand out. It could not have been more unlike the one you held tightly in one hand, fingers flexing around the leather grip.

“No. This is the one, it’s perfect.” He sighed.

“Alright then, I’m not going to argue with you. Follow me.” He walked outside with you behind and stood in front of a target, illuminated by the dim light from torches lit up around the edge of the field. He steadied an arrow. “You pull back, straighten your aim and release.” He let go and the arrow landed just outside the bullseye. “Your turn.” You fiddled with the bow, stroking the leather nervously and tapping the sharp silver capped ends. He smirked teasingly. “Come on then. Or are you scared you won’t be good enough at it.” You scoffed and stomped over to him, grabbing an arrow and nocking it, pulling the string taut to your cheek and narrowing your eyes at the target.

“First of all, you’ll never hit the target like that. Lift your elbow. And widen your stance.” You shuffled your feet. “No, not quite. May I?” You nodded. “You need to just,” He moved behind you and placed one hand on your waist, the other on your arm and kicked one of your feet to the side, “That’s better. Now,” He lifted your elbow up. “Fire.” He whispered in your ear, his warm breath grazing your skin. You sucked in a deep breath and let the arrow fly. You squeezed your eyes shut as it shot through the air and hit the target with a dull thud.

“Well look at that.” Luke murmured behind you.

“What is it Castellan?”

“Why don’t you open your eyes and see for yourself.” You hesitantly opened them and looked disbelievingly at the target, the arrow sitting in the middle of the bullseye. You took a double take, looking back at Luke and then back to the target.

“I did that? Me?” You whispered and Luke chucked quietly.

“Yeah you did but let’s try again. This time by yourself. Make sure it wasn’t just my expert skills that made you shoot like that on your first try.” He nodded to the target and you nocked another arrow, pulling back the string to your cheek with ease and letting it loose quickly, sending the arrow flying and splitting the wood of the previous one as it lodged just between the feathers.

“Not just your expert skills apparently.” His lips twitched upwards.

“Perhaps not, but I will need more proof.”

“Then I will give you some.” With that you fired a volley of arrows, each one landing so they formed a star when you finished. You stared proudly at your work. “How’s that for your proof?”

“That's pretty hard proof. You must be a natural at archery and my teachings clearly have nothing to do with it.”

“Your teachings have something to do with it. You got me that first shot. I’m just a quick learner, and lobbing things at targets is apparently my thing now.” You dropped the bow down carefully in the grass and turned around to look at him and added as an afterthought. “Except for spears. That did not go well.”

“I heard.” You winced and twiddled your thumbs.

“Yeah. Anyway thank you for this, you really didn’t have to.” He shrugged.

“Like I said, I wanted to make up for this afternoon and giving you a late lesson seemed the best way to do it.” You rolled your eyes at his words and threw yourself down on the ground, unbothered by the damp soil. Your hands rested on your stomach and the longer pieces of grass ticked your ears as you gazed up at the sky, the stars twinkled above, shining brightly like miniature diamonds. They decorated the night, small pockets of light in the deep blue sky, soon to give way to pure blackness but the stars would still be there.

You felt Luke lay down next to you and heard him ask you a question.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“What?” You asked back, turning to look at him.

“Your favourite colour. Annabeth said we should get to know each other so what’s your favourite colour?” You stared at him for a second and found nothing but truth in his eyes.

“I’m not sure,” You paused for a moment, “I like green a lot though. It’s pretty and there are so many different shades of it, some are more blue like the sea and others are more the colour of the trees. But you can find traces of green everywhere and I think that’s why I like it, it's not just some obscure colour that you can only find in clothes. It’s all around us, you’ve just got to look for it” You stopped, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, you weren’t really looking for that kind of long winded explanation were you.”

“No I don’t mind, it was interesting. Besides, I've heard longer explanations from Annabeth about why she had nutella on her toast in the morning rather than her usual jam.” You tipped your head to the side and laughed.

“And what was the reason for that exactly?”

“The first time she did it I believe she spouted some nonsense about it being high in fibre as well as having iron and calcium in it and also would give her more energy to deal with, as she put it, incompetent fools. However every other time she's done it she just gives me a look as if I'm completely stupid.” You muffled a snort at his indignant tone.

“She sounds like a middle aged woman called Susan or something. And for the record you are stupid.”

“I always thought she was more of a Theresa but each to their own and I’m not stupid at all thank you very much.” You snorted again and quickly covered it with a cough, composing yourself as he smiled smugly at the reaction he managed to pull out of you.

“So anyway, what’s your favourite colour?” You asked, shifting slightly to look at him better.

“Blue, a really clear bright blue, like the sky in summer, electric blue almost.” He answered decisively and you tapped your fingers together in thought.

“And how old are you?”

“Fifteen, you?”

“Fourteen. Why do you want to go on a quest so badly?”

“I need to prove that I'm a hero. And going on a quest is the only way I can do that.”

“Is it?” He faced you with a look of disbelief.

“Yes, if I go on a quest I'm a hero because I get glory from it, you don't get glory from sitting around at camp doing nothing. You have to fight for it so I need to go on a quest.”

“Right, sorry.” You murmured and looked back up at the sky, head resting on your crossed arms. “The stars are beautiful aren’t they.” You muttered. “I find it hard to believe they can only be found in such distant planes of the universe when we can see them right there in front of us.” You lifted a hand and traced a kind of w shape in the sky. “That’s Cassiopeia, the Queen, you probably already know this but she was the mother of Andromeda and was forced to sacrifice her to a sea monster due to her own pride when she boasted her beauty was greater than that of the sea nymphs.” You pointed to another cluster of stars. “And that’s Ursa Major,” You moved your finger again, “And that’s Virgo, the Maiden.”

“How do you know those constellations?” Luke asked quietly.

“My dad.” You smiled. “He taught me all the constellations and we would go stargazing together in the country whenever he had a free night. The first time he took me was when I was three and he said I asked for food every two minutes, after that he would always bring a picnic, sandwiches, carrot sticks, biscuits and little slices of cake with tea or hot chocolate in a thermos so I would never get hungry. And we would lie on a blanket and watch the stars, pointing out all the constellations we saw and naming whatever stars we could. On special occasions he would bring his telescope and let me use it so that I could see everything that was happening as closely as possible.”

“He sounds nice.”

“Yeah he is,” You whispered, “He really is.” You both went silent for a while, simply gazing up at the stars in peace and quiet, comfortable in each other's company.

After a while Luke stood up.

“We should get going, everyone will already be sleeping by now and we can tidy this all up first thing tomorrow.” You sat up and took his offered hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Thanks.” You leant down to scoop up your new bow. “I can take this back can't I?”

“It's yours.” He answered simply as he started to walk to the cabins with you hurrying to walk next to him.

“Thanks again for, y’know.” He glanced down at you.

“You don't need to keep thanking me, it was my fault for not showing up earlier. I was just making good on my promise to Annabeth.”

“Yeah but still, I appreciate it. Other people wouldn't have done what you just did.” You reached the semicircle of cabins and took a step into the Hermes one before you realised Luke wasn't following. You turned your head back to look at him only to find him looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You slapped your cheek lightly.

“No you just-” He stepped forwards and righted something on your head, brushing the hair back from your face in the process. “Your flowers were falling off stargirl.”

“Oh.” You breathed out, a hand rising to feel the flowers. “Thank you, I forgot I had them, I thought they would've fallen off earlier.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Stargirl?” He shrugged and offered a simple explanation before walking past you into the cabin.

“It suits you.” You smiled and made your way to your bed, quickly grabbing a top and pair of pyjama shorts before running to change into them behind the private screen set up in the corner of the cabin and then bouncing into bed. You lay there for a minute, staring up at the wooden ceiling, before you turned to face the empty bed next to you.

“Hey Castellan.” You whispered loudly and from the other side of the room he answered.

“What is it stargirl?”

“Are we friends now?”

“Nah, we're best friends stargirl, I don’t just teach anyone archery in the middle of the night. and don't think you can get out of this easily, best friends are for life.” You smiled into the darkness at the joking tone in his voice and answered with a hint of laughter.

“Wouldn't dream of it. I gotta say, it's nice to have a friend.” You hurriedly added, “Other than Annabeth and Maisie,” And turned over to the other side, “Goodnight Castellan.” You said and burrowed deep into the duvet. The last thing you heard was a soft laugh and Luke's voice saying.

“Goodnight stargirl, sleep well.”

Light pink sky up on the roof Sun sinks down, no curfew Twenty questions, we tell the truth You've been stressed out lately? Yeah me too

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #taylor swift lyrics #pjo tv show #pjotv x reader #pjo x reader

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asterias-record-shop · 10 months

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new and improved bingo request! fantasy au between finnick and mermaid!reader please!! i feel like it would just make so much sense that finnick would love swimming so maybe he has a routine where he goes every morning and eventually has suspicions that something is in the water with him. so one day he’s sitting at the dock and the mermaid makes herself seen with some cheeky little comment about him almost being as good a swimmer as her!! their relationship blossoms as they learn more about each other’s worlds through daily meet ups and maybe one day they meet in mermaid’s cove during a full moon where she gets her legs and maybe she asks finnick for a lesson in something a bit more advanced (-; LOL but i was thinking quote #1 from mermaid “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad” and then maybe quote #14 from finnick (darling just gives me FINNICK). so sorry this was so long, i was in a daydream coming up w this. once again i appreciate your work so much! 🧚‍♀️

—𓆩[full moon cove]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Prince! Finnick Odair x Mermaid Princess! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Finnick always loved the water. It was his only escape from the life of the Crown Prince who just took over the Kingdom of Panem after the death of the previous ruler, Snow. The cove he went to was different, though, and it always felt like someone was watching him. He certainly didn’t expect it to be true, much less from a beautiful woman like you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - my prince Finnick dream is coming to life || foul language and cursing || inaccurate portrayal of princes- || totally little mermaid inspired kinda || accidental harm || stabbing || you have blue eyes for a little bit, like they flash || time skip || basically virginity loss || nipple stimulation || raw sex || unprotected sex || breeding kink || begging || praise ||

From where Finnick was sitting, he knew damn well that someone was watching him. He could feel it, his skin crawling as he slowly spun around in a circle, trying to wait until one of the bigger fishes flew forward, kicking his feet to stay above the water.

He really did like this, being able to be in the water - his favorite place - even if he was sure someone was watching him. When he saw a certain shine though, one he was sure was scales, he threw down his trident and watched the crimson blood fill the water. Finnick was thankful that he was in the actual ocean and not the cove he dearly loved because he was sure that the blood would never come out of those pretty waters.

He let out a whoop of happiness before something went around his ankle, gasping before he was pulled underwater, quickly closing his mouth before something wet landed on his lips, a choked noise making him gag all over again as water filled his mouth before he was able to spit it out. It makes him pause when he is able to inhale something like air, gasping as bright blue eyes meet his own before going back to a different color.

What the actual fuck?

He stared at your hands begin to move, more confused when you let out a noise somewhat like a groan, bubbles coming from your mouth before they slow, your eyes fluttering closed. Finnick gasped, hand flying to his mouth as he was still unable to comprehend the fact that he was fucking breathing on the water.

He stopped though when he stared at your face, watching as the crimson liquid that began to float into a messy cloud of red came from you - your tail.

For fucks sake.

He grabbed his trident before it could float too low, his other arm grabbing you as he slipped it into the waistband of his pants. It didn’t take him long to get you out of the water, easily laying you out on the sand. His eyes scanned your form, swallowing loudly as his hands ghost your figure, a hiss coming from your mouth making him gasp.

“Don’t be a pervert!”

“I-I’m not!”

He was so being a pervert.

Respectfully, how could he not? You were beautiful, your skin slowly dissipating into beautiful scales of purple and gold starting from your sides and your breasts were covered with a thin string beaded with shells and sea glass. Your hair formed wisps around your face like a halo, bright eyes with flecks of blue darting around until they met his face.

“Yes you are.”

“Y-You’re just…” he stuttered, unable to control his tongue as he inhaled deeply. “You’re a mermaid. Y-You’re beautiful.”

You don’t say anything as his eyes continue to scan your body, memorizing every curve of your body that he desperately wanted to hold. He had heard stories about the mermaids and their charms, but no, this was different. You were absolutely stunning in every way — your slightly-webbed fingers were adorned with gold and pearls, shells and gems threaded through strands of your hair, pearls braided into a crown — for fucks sake, he had never seen anyone as pretty as you.

When your wet hang swatted at his face though, a loud slap that didn’t hurt though the noise echoed all around the beach making his face stay to the side in shock. “Does your kind know that it’s rude to stare?” Your voice wasn’t like one he had ever heard, slightly accented and echoey, perfectly showing your mermaid enchantments.

“Y-Yes, but-”

You scoffed. “But what? You would be rude and stare after stabbing me?”

“You’re too beautiful not to stare.”

He watched your mouth zip closed, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Why do you like me?” He forgot he stabbed you until he saw the blood stained sand, gasping. “Fuck! What do I do, what do I do?!”

“Oh, calm down!” You say, giggling as he frantically started looking around. “Just… get me back to the water.”

“Fuck, do I clean it? Should I put like… seaweed on it?”

You pause, then nod. “Get that one, the purple one over there. Hurry.”

Finnick nodded quickly, rushing to stand and grab the seaweed before running back. He tore some off and started rubbing the blood away, then wrapped the rest around it and stood up. “Ready?”

“For what- oh my!” You yelled out in surprise when he picked you up easily, holding you tightly against his own body and walking toward the trees. “Wh-Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to the water.”

“I meant the sea-”

“As long as it’s water, right?” He sends you a wolfish grin, quickly finding the end of the trees and staring at the cove. He paused when he saw your eyes flash a pale cerulean, flickering from the cove to the sea as your webbed fingers shake against his shoulders. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispers, nodding. “I promise.”

“Well, you already broke it,” you say as he slowly puts you into the water, watching a small cloud of crimson hover to the top before slowly dissipating. “My mother always told me stories about this cove.”

“One, it was an accident,” he says, slowly sitting in the water as you move your arms to push yourself to the center, giggling as you spin in the water. “Two, I thought you were a fish. Like, a real fish.”

“Well I was coming to give you a fish. A big one. A nice one that could feed you for days.”

He scoffed with a smile, shaking his head. It was truly kind of you to say that, to think that, but he would probably give it to some kids he’d see on the way into the kingdom.

“What’s so funny?” You turn to stare at him, raising a brow.

“As much as I appreciate the thought, darling, I don’t need that fish as much as other people do.” He slowly stepped into the water, smiling as you narrowed your eyes slightly but didn't go to move.

“My name is not darling.”

“Oh? Well then what is it?” He kicked his feet to stay above the water, your tail moving slightly as you looked him up and down.

“It’s Y/N. Princess Y/N.”

He smiled, licking his lips to try and hide it. “Oh yeah? Well I’m Finnick.” He purposely leaves out the fact that he was a prince.

“That’s an odd name,” you say, but smile. “I like it.”

He smiled, slowly swimming closer before you moved away, pausing his movements as you licked your lips. “So, what’s so special about this cove, hm?”

“My mother has told me stories. There is a very dangerous underwater mountain range between the sea and this cove, but it has magical properties underneath the full moon. It is a place where people come to make sure that their bonds stick.”

Finnick paused, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You pause, shaking your head. “Humans do not need to know of our rituals. Besides, what are your rituals?”

Slowly, you swam around him, Finnick following your form. “My rituals?”

“Human rituals, I mean.” You correct, the seaglass threaded through your hair reflecting light onto your pretty face. “Like, for mating.”

“F-For mating?!” Damn were you forward.

“Well, I’ve heard that you people put rings on each other's hands? Why do you do that?” You tilted your head, humming. “Partners in my world marry when they turn into humans, then they proceed to mate to have children afterwards.”

“After what?”

“After their marriage ceremony!” You explain, smiling. “I am extremely excited to have my marriage ceremony.”

Finnick could feel his heart sink. “Y-You’re betrothed?”

“Not yet,” you respond, pausing. “I have not found the right suitor yet. And yourself? Are you betrothed?”

Finnick snorted. “Everyone wants me to be.”

You hummed softly, slowly swimming forward. “Why?”

“I am…” his voice turns into a whisper as you grab his hand, smiling. “What?”

“Yours are not like mine,” you respond, giggling. “I like them.”

“My hands?”

“Yes, I like them,” you giggled, gasping when a loud sound rung through out the forest, one you did not know was a bell. “Oh. Oh, what is that?!”

“It’s a bell,” Finnick sighed, looking down at where you held his wrist. “I need to go, but I will be back soon. I promise.”

“Where are you going?” You held his wrist tighter, trying to get him to stay as he adjusted his necklace, one given to him by Mags to protect him from mermaids like you. It didn’t work, and to be honest, he was glad it didn’t. “No! No, you need to stay, you brought me here, you need to stay with me!”

He could feel his mind blurring as he stood, eyesight fading in and out before you gasped.

“Oh my- I-I’m so sorry!”

It went away as soon as you said it, his eyes quickly meeting yours. “Was that- was that your magic?”

“Y-Yes, but I didn’t mean to! I didn’t, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Finnick said, holding the necklace in his hand as he inhaled deeply. “It’s completely fine.”

It wasn’t completely fine, but the way you reacted let him know it truly was an accident. He watched as you slowly swam over, offering your hand out to him as he kneeled down and took it, pressing a soft kiss to your webbed fingers as you rubbed your nose against his.

Your skin was cold and wet, but he liked it when the scales against your wrist rubbed against his skin as you rubbed your face against his. He could feel his stomach twisting, his heart beating faster as soft coos and trills came from your mouth. “Please Finnick… please do not leave me.”

“I promise you Y/N, I’ll be right back, I swear on it.”

You inhale deeply, nodding as you let go of his hand. “Please don’t be long.”

“I won’t.” And with that, Finnick ran off, determined to have a one sided verbal conversation with Mags on why the fuck he was already head over heels for a mermaid he’d only met once — even if he had to do something first.

“I present Prince Finnick of Panem,” Everyone bowed as soon as the doors opened, Finnick inhaling deeply as Peeta smiled back at him, Caesar grinning from the door. “To his coronation.”

He stared up at Mags who stood on the platform where kings before him had gotten married and where he was supposed to too, but what if he wanted to get married in the sea? To you?

He had just met you and he was already planning your wedding, a smile on his face as he walked down the aisle. Would you be able to walk down the aisle? You said that you could shift, right? He had heard stories that mermaids could change-

“Finnick!”

He paused, gasping when he saw Mags’ short stature standing right in front of him, literally a centimeter away from him. She makes a face, lips firmly pressed together as she tilted her head up at him, obviously aware he was distracted.

He grinned sheepishly as he slowly stepped back, inhaling deeply as the music started to play, Mags taking her crown from her head and setting it onto a pillow offered by another person. Finnick swallowed as the music stopped, signaling the end of Mags’ temporary reign, and another crown quickly being brought out.

It was a new one, as Finnick never wanted to wear the crown Snow did, so he ordered the making of a new one. He smiled when he saw the pearls and diamonds, both of them reminding him of what was in your hair early on. He was already thinking of the crown he would have made for you, pearls and sea glass with diamonds to match his own.

You would look beautiful sitting next to him on a throne, or in his lap. He liked the lap scene better, though.

Mags slapped his forehead making him gasp, the older woman raising a brow down at him as he gave another sheepish smile. When the music started again, Finnick slowly kneeled down, inhaling deeply.

This was it — he would be king in a matter of seconds, and right when the crown was set on his head, everyone cheered.

The new King of Panem was finally crowned, and he was soon to be betrothed too, but to someone no one would expect.

It had been a few months since Finnick brought you to the cove, but you always disappeared one night a month. It made him upset, the fact he wasn’t able to see you.

“Are you going to be here tonight?” Finnick whispered as he brushed his fingers down your bicep, your tail now healed and still in the water as your torso laid in his lap.

“Most likely not,” you whisper, Finnick wincing.

“Why not? The cove is beautiful under a full moon.” He says making you giggle.

“I’m aware. Our kind comes here for-” you pause, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”

“No, you have to say it now.” Finnick sits up, looking down at you as you shrug slightly. “Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“My mother used to say that all of the greatest rulers came here to secure their bond before marriage,” you whisper, your scaled hand pushing into his as your fingers thread through his own. “I hope to do the same.”

Finnick smiled down at you, finally leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips. It made you gasp, your lips soft and warm as your hands pushed to the back of his head. Your lips were so addicting, slightly salty but soft and perfect against his own, his hand pushing to hold your hand.

He pulled away slightly, humming against your lips as you leaned up, pulling his lips right back onto your own. It was your first time kissing anyone, and Finnick’s lips were so warm and soft and perfect against your own, desperately pulling him down as he moved to kneel over your body.

You could feel his fingers slowly travel down your sides, trailing from your skin to your scales as his teeth graze your lips, mouth moving passionately and quickly in desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him lower. You squirm underneath him, desperately trying to pull him closer as Finnick pulls away slightly, groaning as he tries to stay away from your lips.

His softly brush against yours as you run your fingers through his hair, a deep sigh leaving your mouth. “I know humans are not like us. You started a mating ritual, this is your last chance to leave before it continues.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he whispers back, his hands shakily going over your tail. “I just don’t know how to continue.”

You giggled making him laugh, a smile on his face as he leaned forward to brush his nose against yours. “You have to wait until the moon comes up,” you whisper, pushing his hair back delicately. “I’m not able to change at will until we mate.”

“That long?” He groaned, his eyes trailing down your body and catching at your pretty nipples. “I guess that means I have to entertain myself some other way.”

“Wait,” you say, quickly cupping his face. “You need to come with me.”

He paused, staring at you in confusion. “Where?”

“To where the moonlight will find us the best.” You smiled, quickly grabbing his hand as you pulled him into the water.

He had heard stories about people being dragged to their death by your kind, but that wasn’t going to be him. He trusted you so much, holding his breath as you dragged him down lower and lower, the sunlight no longer able to be seen in the water. He could feel his vision blur until he’s pulled out of the water, gasping loudly as you giggled.

“Look! Look, isn’t it pretty? There is no sand here, that way it will not be uncomfortable when I shift into my human form.” You giggled, looking around as Finnick panted. “Oh, did I not give you enough time to take a breath?”

Finnick laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine, darling. I-Is that a bed?”

You paused, looking over where he did, a makeshift bed of furs and nets making you smile. “Oh, yes! It’s customary to make a bed for the next pair and leave a special treat for them. Of course, it has to be something that can’t go bad, but when you and your mate finish, you burn the blankets that you used and use the ash in your wedding ceremony.”

Finnick swam over to you, lifting you up into his arms making you let out a giggle as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Where does your kind get fur? You know, if you live underwater, it would spoil.”

You hummed as he laid you onto the soft furs that matched the ones brought only to the castle, customary for the kings because of how expensive it is. “I’m not sure. We do not use furs under the sea, just up here. How they acquired it is unknown to me.”

He merely hummed, his attention now on you as he softly pressed kisses to your collarbone. Your scales were cold and beautiful, sliding along his fingers beautifully as his tongue rubbed over the expanse of your collar bone, one of his hands sliding up your torso as you inhaled sharply.

You could feel your eyes roll back, his warm tongue sliding along your skin as the tips of his fingers trail along your skin that hadn’t yet become scales just yet, pulling the strands of thinly braided seaweed threaded with pearls and sea glass off of your body. He smiled when he saw the scales spotting along your breasts and your ribs that were hidden by the seaweed somehow, leaning down to let his lips hover over your scales, a sharp inhale leaving your mouth as your stomach twists.

Your scales were more sensitive than your skin, and his fingers were pinching against your nipple, thumb and middle rolling the sensitive bud. The feeling was foreign to you, a whine leaving your lips as his tongue trailed along your skin from the patch of scales to your nipple. A whine leaves your mouth, you hadn’t even shifted yet and you could already feel yourself getting aroused, his warm fingers and mouth kissing and sucking against your tits.

It was too much, your stomach clenching as your hands pushed into his hair, tugging and pulling in an attempt to pull him away with how sensitive he was making your body, licking and sucking and biting which made you whimper. Finnick was easily keeping himself entertained, waiting until the change would happen by distracting himself with marking up your body.

“For fucks sake, darling, I want to fuck you so bad.”

His words made you whimper, groaning loudly as you buck your hips into the air, pausing. You had hips.

“F-Finnick!” You gasped, staring down as he groaned. “Finnick, look!”

He laughed, shaking his head as his tongue lapped against your nipple, the perky bud making him grin as the tip of his tongue circled around it. “You’re not gonna get me away from these pretty tits, baby.”

“Finnick,” you giggle, pushing your foot against his thigh, your leg shaking. “Look.”

He paused, pulling away and staring down at your beautiful legs. His hands softly squeezed at your plush thighs, smiling as he kissed softly against your skin and pulling your legs above his shoulders. Your eyes widened, gasping. “W-Wait, Finnick!”

“I’ve waited months, darling. Please don’t make me wait any longer.” He stared at your cunt, your pretty pussy already soaked as his fingers slid up and down, gathering your wetness before teasing your entrance. “Please.”

You gasped, warm fingers pushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, shaking your head. “I-I’ve never done this before, Finnick.”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “It’s okay, darling, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

You inhale, slowly pulling him closer with a bend of your knees. “Okay. Pl-Please, please…” you whisper, humming as his tongue flattened against your slit. “Please fuck me.”

You use his words, gasping as you feel something foreign inside of you, eyes rolling back as you inhaled deeply. You blink a few times to collect yourself, staring down at his fingers that slowly pushed inside of you, two of them. You gasped, staring at them as they disappeared inside of you, pulling in and out as his tongue dragged along your clit. He groaned loudly, insatiable groans of pleasure falling from both of your lips.

He was desperately sucking and licking at your cunt, around your entrance against your clit, he was absolutely infatuated with your taste. It was making him feral, groaning into your cunt and sending vibrations up your spine as his fingers pushed knuckle deep into you, curling as he rutted against the blankets. Oh he had to be inside of you, but you had to cum first before he fucked you.

His fingertips graze that spot inside of you, pushing and rubbing right against that perfect spot as his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and nibbling against the sensitive bundle of nerves that pushed you right over that perfect edge. Your eyes rolled back, stomach tightening as you bucked your hips unconsciously, your thighs shaking around his head as you still didn’t have enough control of your legs.

Finnick groaned, pulling out his fingers and curling them, dragging out every drop of your cum and scissoring his digits inside of you to make your walls clamp down on them, laughing as he licked up the pearlescent essence sliding out of your cunt. It makes him smile as he pulls your fingers out of your cunt, watching it flutter and clench around nothing before sitting back against his heels.

He pulled down his wet trousers and underwear, smiling as he dragged his cupped hand against your cunt, gathering your wetness mixed with his own saliva and slathering it onto his shaft before lining his head up with your entrance, biting his lips as your hands quickly flew to his shoulders. Your head was tilted back, mouth wide in pleasure as you groaned out, your fingers no longer webbed and the scales on your body now gone.

He leaned down with a sharp thrust, easily becoming balls deep inside of you as your walls tightened and fluttered around his shaft, a loud groan falling from both of your lips. “You just came again.”

“I-I’m still sensitive,” you whisper meekly, eyes wide as you stare down at where his cock disappeared inside of you, “Y-You feel so good, please don’t stay still. Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you to cum inside.”

He lost control with that one sentence, pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. It was rough and made sparks of both pleasure and pain spark up your spine, eyes rolling back at the unfamiliar but pleasure filled thrusting of his hips. He groaned loudly, his stomach already twisting as he choked against your shoulder – he was only a few thrusts in, desperately trying to chase the high he was right on the edge of, already drunk on your cunt.

“F-Fuck, fuck Y/N darling. You feel so good, so fucking good!” He groaned against your shoulder, mouth already attaching to the previously made hickies, letting out a loud moan as he slammed his hips forward, hips pausing when he finally came.

He didn’t stop though, his mind solely focused on fucking you now, watching your face slowly became fucked out, eyes hazy as you stared up at him. Your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears of pleasure, your stomach full of cum as he continued to thrust, barely an hour with legs and already lost feeling of them.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, though, hips bucking into his own in desperation as he panted above you, pausing nearly for a minute. It was still too long for him to be still inside of you, wiping the sweat from his brow as you whined. He grinned down at you, moving back to pull his cock out of you before slowly pushing back in. “Darling, you’re so desperate. How many times have I cum inside of you? And you still want more?”

“Wh-Why can’t I want more? You make me feel so good, and you like to fuck me, don’t you? So don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You basically wailed, gasping as he grabbed your hips and lifted them slightly off the bed to fuck into you again, head tilting back as you stared up at his face.

You could feel him twitch inside of you, slamming in and out of you as he fucking you like his own personal whore, which at this point, you basically were. You felt so full, eyes rolling back as sweat dripped down his forehead, mouth wide open with a loud groan. “Fuck darling, I don’t want to stop.”

His words make you laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down for a firm kiss. “Well, I’m free to change at will now,” you whisper, stroking his golden hair. “You don’t have to stop.”

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, my darling mermaid.”

“And I love you, my darling human.”

“Just human? Am I just a human to you?” He says playfully, watching you giggle.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Finnick.”

“Whatever you say, my darling mermaid.”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!! please make sure to check the main post to see what is available!!

and if you weren't able to request now, i have another event coming up as soon as i finish bingo!! love you guys, thank you for your support!!

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

I accidentally kept myself awake until like 3 hours before I need to get up cause I was watching r/nosleep readings and, despite being a horror addict, I'm a baby about scary stuff

Here's my thoughts:

Jack is away for a sleepover, and scaredy-cat reader convinces Hotch to stay up late watching a psychological horror with them, the kind thay really gets under your skin. He hesitates, cause he knows they'll be terrified, but caves to the puppy dog eyes.

After almost two hours of screaming, holding back tears, and hiding against Aaron's chest (and in his arms), the movie ends and it's time to go to bed. Reader is too scared to move a muscle, and Aaron has to comfort them and convince them to get to their room so they can both go to sleep.

Genuine attempts to show the lack of danger, humour to cheer them up, y'know the works. I hope reader ends up sleeping, cause I know I won't

(Signed, @hotchs-good-girl [who is BEGGING tumblr to let them send asks from side blogs])

i know how you feel! i can't even say mr scr*tch without freaking out.. it's kept me up many a night </33

"Sweetheart," Aaron's voice is sympathetically amused, murmured against the crown of your head, "Come on. Are you really that scared?"

"Yes!" You gush, your words muffled by the polo he's wearing, "Yes, Aaron, why did you let me watch that movie?"

His chest heaves slightly as he ascends the next step, keeping your weight supported by a hand under your thighs. He hadn't been able to convince you to walk on your own, because of course, the monsters could get your ankles.

"Well," He starts, flicking the light to the hallway on so that maybe you'll stop suffocating him with your arms wound so tightly around his chest, "You would have screamed until I said yes."

"I was kidding." You mumble grouchily into his chest, "I can't believe you're making me to go bed! That's where all of the killers are hiding, Aaron!"

"I take down serial killers for living," He reminds you, targeting your bedroom light next, "Don't you think we would have heard if someone had come into the house?"

"No," You insist, shaking your head as best you can, "That's how they getcha! They- I dunno, hide in the closets or something!"

"Hm," He hums, reaching for the knob of your closet door, "I'll check."

"Aaron- no!" You scramble out of his arms, landing on your butt on the floor and scrambling to stand on top of the bed, "Are you insane?"

"What?!" He's looking at you like you've grown a third head, though he's fairly certain your first one is injured after your fall.

"Don't take me in there with you!" You gesture wildly to the closet, "Were you just about to unleash the monsters while holding me? I would have been their first target, you dick!"

"Y/N," He deadpans, twisting the knob with one hand and yanking it open. You flinch at the sight, though he knows there's nothing there. A simple inspection of the space shows only a tie out of place, but he's pretty sure he knocked it off of the wall, not a monster.

"Just get over here," You hiss, unamused at his boldness, "I'm not getting to sleep tonight, so let's just get the night over with."

"Yes you are," Aaron chuckles, grabbing pajama pants and shedding his jeans. He tugs the polo off as well, but doesn't bother grabbing a t-shirt to sleep in, leaving his chest exposed as he treks towards the bed, "I'm going to be here the whole time."

"But you're gonna be asleep!" You tug the covers back, hurriedly tucking yourself beneath them, "I can't sleep if you're sleeping, 'cause then I'll be awake when the killer gets here but you won't. I can't be the protector of us, Aaron!"

You do look pitiful under the blankets, but he's sure that if a killer broke in trying to stab him, you'd turn their own knife on them. You're stronger than you feel in the moment, but he won't point it out.

"How about this?" He reaches for you, tugging the covers up and over himself and plopping unceremoniously on top of you, "You go to sleep, and I lay here and protect you. Nothing can get you if I'm covering you, right?"

"I guess not." You muse, squirming to get comfortable under his broad frame, "You swear you won't fall asleep until I'm out too?"

"On my life," He promises, though it's an unfortunate word choice.

"It will be," You groan, snapping your eyes shut and burrowing your face into his neck, "It was nice knowing you, Aaron."

"That's a weird way of saying I love you," He hums, pressing a kiss to your temple, the only part of your face his lips can reach, "But I love you too, scaredy-cat."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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rarepears · 1 year

Note

Here’s the Fraternity Himbo!

So frat bro occasionally does in fact wear pink robes! He was actually transmigrated while wearing pink Frat robes and fuzzy slippers with Pokémon shorts!

The man is in his early twenties transmigrated to before LBH is born. A lot before actually.

He ends up in some random village, close to the demon realm where the villagers see him and immediately think he’s some terrible demon. Because he’s mixed and rather European. And maybe a little bit gay after he sees his first hot guy. But it’s totally because he wants to be bros.

So he’s in a Frat house going over what they should do to haze the next group drinking apple juice while the boys drink illegal alcohol (Frat Himbo accidentally made alcohol, he made a 50/50 sugar/fruit drink and left it in his room for a few days)

So he and the boys are in his alcohol smelling room and our Himbo, let’s give him an incredibly Himbo name that sounds like something scary in Chinese together.

He realizes he was supposed to turn something in for class and grabs his laptop and sprints to class. To turn in an online assignment. That saves and turns in automatically.

He’s studying childcare and wants to be one of those nanny/bodyguards that go to the academy. He thinks that rich people’s kids would get in trouble a lot and he’d get to save them or something.

He realizes this midway when someone stops him to ask him why he’s running in robes and slippers.

They stop him moments before truck-kun crashes inches in front of them.

“Whoa dude!” “Oh god what the f-“ “Kids here dude”

So our Himbo obviously goes to call the police and help the man out of the truck.

And the truck explodes moments after they get out, but he laid the guy down behind a tree so they’re fine.

He casually leaves once the police get there to get some snacks for the bros. And nearly gets killed in an alleyway after stepping in to save a girl.

Who was actually a murderer who got the tables turned on her and would’ve stabbed him if he accepted her kiss.

Himbo has not had his first kiss and wants to ‘save himself’ and also notices her dilated eyes and unsteady demeanor.

So of course he keeps her there till cops arrive. He called the police before stepping in. He’s a good citizen!

He gets his snacks at a store his friends work at and goes to the back to pick up the good snacks.

Moments after a robbery occurs where Frat Himbo once again calls the cops and leaves.

(You see all the tropes right?)

So he gets back to the house and casually dies SQH style. The one way he shouldn’t have died.

Turns out a few different systems wanted him isekaied and he would’ve gone to a different world depending on how he died. And accidentally gets sent to PIDW during the argument.

So back to PIDW he barely escapes angry villagers by having worn incredibly scandalous clothes.

“His ankles!” “I can see his knees!” “His legs are bare!” “Look at that collarbone…mm” “It’s a Demon come to tempt us!”

And so starts Himbo’s adventure in PIDW…

Well at least we would’ve started there if the world didn’t reset and turn into SVSSS, but at least our Himbo and our protag still have their memories.

So we end up with a (supposed to be) Isekai protagonist, transmigrator, and a now regression protagonist!

The sole intention of this is to mess with the system btw. (And by extension SY and SQH)

asdfghjhg I love the set up - the fact that so many systems want himbo fratbro?!

And now himbo fratbro - who's seen many awkward one night stands that his fellow fratmates went through after a night of drinking and thinks that's so awkward as fuck, like why bro are you doing that to yourself, you should find yourself a good fuckbuddy or two who knows the routine - ends up in PIDW with all the sex pollen. Don't worry, he's got this. He knows how to make his one night stands less awkward and not end so oddly. Everyone knows the bro-code and fistbumps, right?

[More in #a himbo fratboy in svsss au]

#svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #mxtx #svsss ideas #svsss au #a himbo fratboy in svsss au

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hezzabeth · 3 months

Text

The door to the rose room swung open, and Revati stepped out. For a second, everything was perfect and still, and then the screaming started.

"Ai! Muito Gira!" Mrs. Bun shrieked with delight.

"I'm a big spin?" Revati asked, completely confused by the expression.

"She means you look perfect! I knew you had the coloring to pull off the red! Your golden eyes and purple hair set it off just right!" Auntie Magdeline said, grabbing Revati by her elbow.

"Now let's do something about this unique hairstyle," Mrs. Bun said, steering Revati back to the kitchen.

"Half my hair was ripped off by Ai, baby doll that can pretend to eat food," Revati explained, shuddering. That incident had occurred when she tried to find Dityaa in an old toy factory.

"We can curl it and fluff it out, covering the short patches," Vanilla said.

"Alright, I suppose it will go with the retro look of the dress," Auntie Magdeline remarked.

"If you're going to do my hair, make sure it looks sophisticated and shiny," Revati added to the conversation, her eyes trailing out the window. The Duke of Io was sitting outside in the courtyard.

"What's he doing out there?" hissed Revati.

"Oh, Barley found him in the barn when you were getting dressed," Mrs. Bun explained. "We asked him to come in for tea, but he said he would rather eat the sunlight," Vanilla added.

"Which means he's incredibly wealthy! Only the Diamond Delete can survive on solar radiation," Auntie Saffron said with a small nod of approval from where she was drinking her own tea.

"I'll be right back; he's my sister's husband," Revati explained.

The Duke was sitting right next to a bush of pink paper daisies. His head was raised slightly, glowing pearly white eyes staring directly at the sun.

"If you were human, you would go blind doing that," scoffed Revati.

The Duke's head snapped towards her. "I'm seventy-two percent human, and my recharging ports are in my pupils," the Duke replied.

"I got the Martian opals, I assume you know what that means," Revati said, and the Duke sighed. It was a tragic, drawn-out sigh.

"Of course, I know what it means," he merely said.

"So apparently Dityaa destroyed a space station, and now you're plotting to abduct someone?" Revati had to ask.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that my wife accidentally destroyed an entire space station," the Duke replied.

"And the kidnapping?" Revati added.

"The Lost Princess resistance are the only ones willing to help Dityaa with her sand-exploding thing," the Duke explained.

"Sand exploding thing? Just let her explode all the trash! You didn't need to go seek out a rebel army," Revati asked, folding her arms.

"It's more than that. Look, I overheard Dityaa got arrested, and somehow you intercepted Captain Delphi's orders," the Duke said.

"You overheard? I haven't told anyone about this," Revati pointed out.

"I have hyper sonar ears installed; I overhear everything," the Duke said.

"Everything?" Revati blushed, thinking about her encounter with Bridgaderio the night before.

"Everything," the Duke said knowingly.

"I'm going back inside! Figure out this kidnapping on your own," Revati said.

"Dityaa's pregnant," the Duke said, and Revati stopped mid-stride, the dress settling around her ankles.

"How? You're a robot," Revati asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"I'm seventy-two percent human," the Duke reminded her.

Revati closed her eyes. Dityaa loved babies. She carried her old rag doll everywhere.

"So I'm going to be an aunt to a superpowered cyborg hybrid," Revati said.

"I don't think the baby will inherit my robot parts," The Duke pointed out.

"What can I do to help?" Revati replied, shaking her head.

"We'll need your help with the kidnapping," he replied.

Here's the corrected version of your text:

Revati was, of course, no stranger to kidnapping. There was the time she had to rescue Aurora when Big Hardie insisted she would be a perfect Juliet. Thankfully, Revati crashed the scene where Aurora was forced to stab herself to death.

Then there was the time she actually kidnapped the actor who played Puck. Eventually, Revati let him go after he kept smashing flowers onto people's faces while they slept.

On the road, Revati had met several kidnappers. The best ones had the ability to convince their victims that they hadn't been abducted at all. It took a while for Revati to find some time to herself. First, she had to change out of the dress.

Then Mrs. Bun made everyone sit down for lunch. It consisted of bread covered in margarine and a strange salty brown spread called Vegemite. Then, after lunch, Auntie Saffron made a fuss about Revati's shoes.

"My feet always change sizes when my biological sex shifts," Vanilla said helpfully as they returned with a pair of black slippers. "They're a little plain, but they automatically change to your shoe size," Vanilla explained as Revati tried them on.

"They're fine, the dress is the real show stopper," Revati said, and then she cleared her throat. "You know I'm very tired," she said meaningfully, and Mrs. Bun clapped her hand to her mouth.

"Of course! You need your beauty sleep, let me show you the guest room in the main house," Mrs. Bun said.

The guest room was located on the first floor of the main house. Revati had been so exhausted she had barely noticed the layout before.

Now she realized most of the main cottage was filled with bedrooms. "Is there a reason why your home has two buildings? I've never lived in a house before, but isn't everything supposed to be under one roof?" Revati asked.

#comic #lifewithlola #nanowrimo2023 #science fiction #life on mars #speculative worldbuilding #speculative fiction #saying farewell to armageddon

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italiangothicwriteblr · 1 year

Text

Incorrect Quotes Tag

Rules: Use this generator with your characters!

Livia: Okay happy campers! If you were a fruit what would you be and why? Nova: I'd be a tomato because no one accepts me as part of the group. Livia: ... Nova: ... Livia: OKAY HAPPY CAMPERS-

Nova, taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child. Livia, entering the room with a small cut on their ankle: Who the f-

Nova: Thought I was meowing back at my cat for the past hour, but it was just me and Livia meowing at each other from different rooms in the house.

Livia: So, you lied to me? Nova: That depends on how you define lying. Livia: Well, I define it as not telling the truth. How do you define it? Nova: Um, reclining your body in a horizontal position?

Enrico: On the count of three, what’s your favorite cake? Enrico & Niccolo: One, two, three- Enrico & Niccolo: Chocolate cake, peanutbutter frosting, and chocolate chunks! Arnoldo: Our turn, Giuseppe! One, two, three- Arnoldo: Vanilla! Giuseppe: I’ve never had cake before. What is cake?

Niccolo: Hi, could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire?? Enrico: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔 Giuseppe: Why were you microwaving a lemon??? Enrico: I read boiling lemons helps cover up up bad smells (I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges) but I didn't own any pots. Arnoldo: Did you burn an orange too? How??? Enrico: Microwave for 40 minutes. 😔

Enrico: Guess who just found out the difference between wax paper and parchment paper the hard way? Leonidas: Wait, what’s the difference? Enrico: One you can use in the oven safely, and the other you can also use in the oven... if the thing you are trying to make happens to be fire.

Martino: But what about Giacomo? Basilio: Don't worry about them. Basilio: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.

Nova: Sweet dog you got there. Calpurnia: Yes, this is our new magic sniffing dog. Nova: Still training huh? Calpurnia: What do you mean? Nova: Nova: Never mind.

Martino: *looks at Giacomo* Martino: Baby boy. Baby. Martino: *looks at Basilio* Martino: Evil.

Martino: Do you ever get pre-annoyed? Like you already know someone is going to piss you off? Giacomo: What? No, I— Basilio: *enters room* Martino: *jaw clenches*

Nova , teaching Cloelia to drive: Okay, you're driving and Orianna and Ottavio walk into the road. Quick, what do you hit? Cloelia: Oh, definitely Ottavio. I could never hurt Orianna. Nova , massaging their temples: The brakes. You hit the brakes.

Enrico, finding out how Leonidas did a magic trick: So, you’re not magic?

Leonidas, sweating nervously: Well, not really

Enrico: You’re just a liar

Martino, about Basilio: Giacomo, they're an asshole! They have purposely stabbed you on more than one occasion! Giacomo: Some of those stabbings were accidental! Martino: Basilio: Okay, well, I know for a fact the third time was accidental.

Tagging: @ink-fireplace-coffee @memento-morri-writes @did-i-do-this-write and @rose-bookblood

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passerine-writes · 1 year

Text

Silent Sparks - Volt 11

Warnings: Medical talk, talk of insecurities and mentions of scars Word count: 2499

Notes: Italics - Tsukare signing Bold italics - Family member/friend signing 'Italics with apostrophes' - Thoughts Masterlist

Volt 10 | Volt 12

"Do you two want to help me clean up Dagobah Beach?" Tsukare and Shinsou were caught off guard by Midoriya's random question, not expecting him to offer community service as a hang out. "I-I thought it would be a good idea for training. Work out and clean up, it's a win win!" Tsukare shared a look with his brother and the two shrugged in response.

"Sure, why not. Let me just text our dad to let him know where we're gonna be." Midoriya nodded and hurried to get changed, grabbing spare clothes for Tsukare in the process.

"Here! I grabbed you a spare tank top that's a little big on me and some basketball shorts. Shinsou I grabbed you a pair of shorts too, since you already have a t-shirt." The boy with topaz hair froze up, forgetting that it was now nicer weather outside since it was May.

His friend knew of his scars, having accidentally seen them in the locker room at school and asked his fair share of questions later. However Tsukare was still nervous, the tank top providing little to the imagination of what happened to him. But he trusted his best friend. So he grabbed the clothes and changed as fast as he could, not wanting his back to be exposed for longer than necessary. Shinsou looked at him cautiously, silently checking to make sure his brother was okay before changing into the shorts and fighting to hide the small blush on his cheeks at the thought of changing in front of his crush.

"Okay, dad's informed, we're all dressed, let's get some water bottles and snacks and get moving." Midoriya nodded enthusiastically while Shinsou gave two thumbs up, the brothers following the green haired boy through the house they knew very well by now.

The walk wasn't far and then the work out began. The three lifted appliances, scrap metal, pallets. They stabbed trash and put it in bags. If someone could think of an item, that object was at the beach.

They worked for hours, and while they knew how much they had accomplished, it looked like barely anything was done. So after the fourth hour, they took a break, however Tsukare's was cut short.

He felt his blood run cold, then his ears started to ring, his eyes got heavy along with his limbs, his breathing grew shallow and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

"Toshi? I don- I don't feel.. so..." Anything else he had to say was slurred as his legs gave out and he greeted darkness. His brother barely caught him in time, gently setting him on the ground with his head resting on his abdomen.

"AAAH! Is he okay? He's not dead, right?" Midoriya started his rambling, concern taking over his mind while Shinsou worked to hide his. Thankfully, after an EEG, he knew the small twitches and muscle spasms weren't seizures but somewhat normal after a person blacks out.

"He just blacked out, he'll be okay. Midoriya, can you grab me my phone and water bottle?" The green haired boy ran back to their bags and dug out his friends phone and water, hurrying back to give them to him. Shinsou delicately poured some of the cool water on his brothers head, hoping to cool him down and get him back to reality sooner. "Midoriya. I need you to sit by his feet and hold his ankles up near your shoulders." Frightened for his friend, he quickly obliged and kneeled near Tsukare's feet, lifting his ankles up until the other told him to stop. Shinsou unlocked his phone and quickly called his dad, the hero answering on the first ring. "Hey dad."

"Hitoshi, are you and your brother alright?"

"I'm fine, Onryo kinda, uh, blacked out." He could sense the worry from his dad through the phone.

"Okay, Sunshine and I will be there soon. Hang tight. I love you both." Shinsou returned the gesture and tucked his phone away. "Sunshine, we have to go get the kids." Yamada looked up from the book he was reading towards his husband curiously, turning his hearing aids up.

Typically, lazy Sundays spent in the house were a normal event for the couple. The kids would go to the Midoriya household, no teaching, no patrols, and if the kids were home then they would all have a lazy afternoon at the very least.

"Is everything alright?" Yamada was already closing up his book and re-tying his pony tail.

"Onryo blacked out at the beach." That sentenced had Yamada near sprinting out the door, hurrying to get to the car and to his sons.

By the time the husbands got to the beach, Tsukare was up and conscious. Midoriya officially entering hero fanboy mode and mumbling about how Present Mic and Eraserhead were there before putting the dots together.

"You're Present Mic! The voice hero who can take down groups of villains quickly! A-And you're Eraserhead! The underground hero with an erasure quirk! Why are you two he- Shinsou said his dads were on their way, so that would mean..." Midoriya fell into incoherent mumbles, the heroes scarily impressed at the fact this fourteen year old could recognize the two out of uniform.

"Yes, however it's confidential, hence why Onryo and Hitoshi have different last names than us." Midoriya nodded, completely understanding the reasoning without it being stated. "We have to take these two home, will you be alright getting home?" Midoriya nodded haphazardly before the motion stopped and he patted his pockets, then checked his bag and face palmed himself. "What's the matter?"

"I forgot my keys at home, my moms with Auntie Mitsuki and won't be home for a few hours at least." He quickly back peddled and waved his hands with a nervous smile. "I-I should be okay though! It's not the first time I've locked myself out of the house on accident!" Aizawa gave him a lazy stare and nodded his head towards the car.

"Get in, problem child. If you'd like you can have your mom pick you up when she's done." Midoriya went to decline but froze under Aizawa's gaze and followed his friends to the back seat. "You're not allergic to cats, are you?" Midoriya shook his head rapidly, sitting stiff as a board in the back seat. "Relax, you're not in any trouble. Onryo, are you feeling alright?" The youngest stared out the window, watching the buildings go by to avoid meeting his dads worried gaze in the rear view mirror.

"I'm good, I think I just over did it or something." Mic looked back at his son with concern before looking to his husband.

"Okay, when we get home I'd like you to have something to snack on so you can get your blood sugar up. Alright?" Tsukare nodded, starting to space out as he got lost in his mind.

He felt defeated and troublesome. He hadn't blacked out for almost a whole year, he saw his Pops glance at his forearms to check that he hadn't relapsed lately, and to top it all off he pulled his parents away from their lazy Sunday just to worry over him.

The kids piled out of the car and into the house, immediately being greeted by Mittens and Spots until they noticed a new person and ran off. Tsukare, as asked, went and grabbed a snack and some chocolate milk to get his blood sugar up, just in case that's what made him faint. However after trial and error, the family has found that sugary or sour things help kick start his brain some more after a black out.

"You have a really nice house." He heard Midoriya say to his brother, the green haired boy looking around in amazement.

"Thank you, little listener. Sleepyhead over here wanted to stick with an apartment but I pushed for this house. I'm the one who decorated it, too." Midoriya looked at him with wide eyes, still awestruck that he was in the house of two pro heroes.

"You did an amazing job!" Half way through his sentence though, Mic got a confused and then a tired look came on his face. Most sound cutting out from the room except for the now muffled voice from Midoriya.

"Hold that thought." After years of knowing his voice so well, he had amazing volume control. "Sho! Where's the charger!" He saw his husband come out of the kitchen confused until the realization dawned on the tired teacher.

It's in your work bag, Sunshine. You put it in there yesterday.

Midoriya waved his hand to catch Mic's attention, which thankfully worked.

If they died or want to take a break from wearing them, I know sign language. His hands hesitated as he signed, wanting to ensure he got each motion correct.

"Perfect! So what were you saying earlier?"

Conversation flowed easily with the five from there. All of them being fluent in the silent language and Yamada was simply grateful that his children had a friend as great as the green haired boy. Aizawa was as well but he didn't show it. He did however, show his concern when his youngest child started fidgeting vehemently.

Onryo, is everything okay?

Aizawa was thankful that Midoriya was immersed in a conversation with his husband, asking him about his quirk and discussing theories related to it.

Yeah, I'm fine.

Onryo.

I forgot my meds this morning but didn't think they were necessary because it's a Sunday and I feel awkward wearing a tank top.

We'll talk more about it later, okay?

Tsukare nodded, content with talking about it later and excused himself to change out of the offending article of clothing. It took him only a moment to run up to his room and change into his regular long sleeve and joggers, but he took an extra moment to cool down. Opting to give Mittens a few gentle pets and head scratches before awkwardly joining everyone downstairs.

After another two hours though, Midoriya went home and Tsukare was left to have a family discussion.

"Onryo, if you feel comfortable, can we talk about earlier?" Aizawa asked gently, his husband having since charged his hearing aids and knowing this was an important conversation for the family to have, opted to put them in.

"I didn't take my meds because it's not a school day." Aizawa gave his son a deadpanned expression, knowing his kid picked up on his dry sarcasm throughout the years.

"The other thing." Yamada chuckled lightly as he watched his husband and son interact.

"I found out I hate wearing tank tops." This piqued Yamada's attention, a more composed and serious nature coming over him.

"How come you hate wearing tank tops, little listener?" Shinsou gave his Pops a deadpanned look now, thinking the answer was obvious.

"My arms." Mic felt his heart sink to his stomach hearing about his sons insecurities with his scars.

"Nobody’s judging you for your scars, 'Ryo. You don't have to hide yourself here." Tsukare nodded his head quickly, knowing that he didn't have to shirk away from his families love but that's not what he meant by being insecure.

So many words wormed into his mind all at once and it frustrated him not being able to voice them. His leg bouncing faster and faster, a hand moving up to run at his throat.

"Take your time, Onryo. There's no need to rush." Tears of frustration built up even though his Dads words soothed him a bit.

He raked a shaky hand through his hair while trying to find the right words.

"I- I just, I," Tsukare groaned in mild frustration in not being able to get out the words he wanted to, so he opted to sign.

I hate seeing them, they look horrible and they just remind me of where I messed up. Pops looked at my arms right when you both got to the beach and I don't know. I just, I don't want you and Pops to keep worrying about a relapse because I wear long sleeves all the time. I've been clean for a while now but I just, I hate seeing them. I know how gross they look and I know people see it and know what they mean, I know others are going to judge and worry but I don't want to risk that here. Being home is my safe place and I don't want to worry anyone.

"Onryo," Mic crouched down in front of Tsukare, a gentle tone in his voice, "I'm sorry for looking earlier. When you wear long sleeves all the time, I worry about the worst. I was more relieved then anything to see you wearing a tank top. But Onryo, I promise you, your scars are not gross or disgusting. They are not horrible. I have scars that I don't like too, but there's nothing wrong with them. Here, look," Mic pulled up the side of his shirt and exposed a few of his scars, "these ones are from hero work. And I have some similar ones on my back from bad foster homes." Tsukare nodded with teary eyes, he felt dumb for crying because he couldn't point out why he was.

"We all have our fair share of scars here. I have similar ones on my back from my birth parents. They didn't.. appreciate when I came out to them since I wouldn't be carrying on their bloodline." The teenagers went painfully silent before Shinsou sat forward.

"Since we're hosting show and tell, two sets of foster parents did the same to me." Tsukare couldn't help but laugh at his brothers initial dry sarcasm.

"Kiddo, would you say any of those things about our scars?" The child with topaz hair shook his head, his curls moving ferociously. "Then they don't apply to yours either. I know it's hard to put it into practice and believe it for yourself, but I promise it's true. Okay?" Tsukare nodded and wiped his eyes. "Alright, family hug, everyone up and bring it in!" Shockingly, everyone stood with no complaint.

Yamada and Aizawa pulled their children in close and smushed them in a hug. The parents giving each child a kiss atop their heads and one final squeeze before letting go, but the youngest held on longer and effortlessly dragging out the group hug.

"I'll start trying to wear t-shirts, or at least start trying to push my sleeves up more often. Baby steps I guess." Mic smiled softly and squeezed his kids a little tighter.

"Your dad and I love you both, so much." Tsukare let out a content sigh, taking a much needed breath of relief for the first time in a while.

"I love you guys."

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aleatoryw · 3 years

Text

girls don't want boys, girls want megamind's fucking sick platform goth boots that he wore to fight titan

#would i accidentally stab someone's ankles? absolutely i would #megamind

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bruhstories · 2 years

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canopic jar

summary: marc is exasperated by you, but he needs to behave because you're steven's girlfriend. pairing: steven grant x angry & unpredictable!reader warning & content: swearing, violence (reader beats the shit out of a dude), crack, some angst, some fluff, fem!reader wc: ~1.4k

a/n: i absolutely love the 'bag of tricks' series by @heli0s-writes, it brings me so much joy, and i thought 'hmm, what would marc do if he met someone chaotic, unpredictable and with anger management issues?' and this is how this piece was born. i may or may not continue this, hint hint, nudge nudge

orange italics for marc

Marc Spector is in physical pain whenever Steven lets him out.

He's been shot, stabbed, beaten to a pulp, survived the smite of gods but nothing, absolutely nothing can compare to the agony, the antipathy and the loathing he feels towards you.

Those words are big, he doesn't reaaaally hate you — you like to think that — but he truly dislikes you, and cannot possibly fathom from in circle of Hell Steven found you.

Well, he knows exactly how he found you, Marc was inside his head that faithful day, when you decided to visit the museum. Dainty, like a fairy straight out of some weird fantasy cosplay porn, you gingerly touched the very canopic jar that had the label DO NOT TOUCH under it.

Boom. Crash.

That jar met its maker, broken in tens of pieces and the stench– oh, God, the stench! It came as no surprise when you inevitably gagged, everyone around you backing off when your eggs and bacon came back, burning your esophagus.

What a fucking dumbass. Marc said, but Steven, oh, poor Steven, he was stunned.

In your defence, you never thought the jar had its contents full. You thought it was a replica, a cheap copy made by the British Museum.

"How was I supposed to know you lot had a 2.000 year old liver in that cookie jar?" Was your pathetic excuse. Still, you paid for the damage, and boy, were your debts enough for three generations. Goddamn cookie jar.

That day, Steven fell in love with you, but that day was the end of Marc's last crumb of sanity.

Steven's apartment is covered in post it notes with simple and easy-to-follow instructions. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Right?

Except for that one time when you emptied Gus' tank to clean it and accidentally set fire to it — how the fuck do you burn a tank???

Or that one time when you wanted to bake a souffle and flooded the kitchen — is she seriously that stupid???

Oooor that one time when you "accidentally" chained yourself to Steven's bed and couldn't reach the key, so you spent 17 hours and 23 minutes starving and thirsty.

Marc found you asleep, uncuffed your ankle and made you a sandwich. That was also the time you learned Steven had a spare key under the mattress and you could have easily unchain yourself.

Eventually, Marc got used to your presence and your absolutely ludicrous actions. He learned to predict some of your choices, but you were still unpredictable. He learned to read you, but you were still illiterate — in the nicest possible way. Sometimes his reflexes would be swift, and he'd catch you before hurting yourself.

And other times, you'd fall down the stairs because you got distracted by a cat, or a puppy, or a goddamn rat.

You're not stupid, you're just not paying attention. You're careless and carefree.

Steven loves every bit of you, because the way he sometimes fucks up Marc's missions matches your erratic personality.

And for Marc it's hell.

His very own pure, unfiltered personal hell.

Tonight, the two men also learn about your anger management issues.

Marc's on a mission now. It requires stealth and precision, and Steven promised not to interfere.

Khonshu is a merciless god when it comes to those who make mistakes. He punishes and does not forgive, and right now, he's got Marc to "discipline" a few thieves in South London.

"So, do you want me to break all bones or just the arms?" Marc seeks approval from the god before acting. He's sat on a rooftop, his suit bright in the moonlight, scowl plastered on his face.

"Break the legs, too." You suggest.

"Right." He nods, before freezing on the spot, head slowly turning to his left. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

His voice screams exasperation.

"Tracked your phone."

Marc only gives you the how-the-fuck-did-you-manage-this look and you shrug.

"What, like it's hard."

"It's turned off!" Now he's screaming screaming.

"And?"

Jesus fucking Christ. He notices you're wearing all black, as if you're some kind of international super spy, and if the laws of anatomy would permit, his eyes would be doing a full 360 now.

"Stay here. Don't get in my way."

"You got it, partner!" You salute him, face solemn and serious.

Marc dives off the rooftop, gliding through the air with his fancy cape and does his cool superhero landing in a narrow alleyway while you take the fire escape and climb down a million steps. It was worse going up.

Okay, Khonshu lied. Those petty thieves aren't just thieves, they're selling Egyptian artefacts on the black market, and Marc isn't supposed to just discipline them, he's supposed to unalive or worse, arrest them.

And it's fun to sit back watch Marc absolutely obliterate the men, until a poor stray cat happens to run through the fight.

"Watch out for the cat!" You yell and distract Marc enough for a thug to kick him in the nuts — he won't be having any kids soon. "Oof-" You bite your lip. "That's gonna need an ice pack."

"Didn't I tell you to fuck off?"

"No, you told me to stay and not get in your way. Hey, don't touch the cat!" You shout at one of the thugs when his foot nearly steps on the poor feline's tail. But the man sneers and stomps it. The kitty's wail is enough to make your blood boil.

He's fucked.

"Back off!" Marc is still recovering from that kick when he sees you approaching. "Are you deaf?"

"Are you deaf?" You question the thug, but before he can reply or act, you grab a metal bin lid and smack him across the face with it.

Marc, the recently-hit man and his two friends all stop moving, absolutely baffled at your audacity.

"Well? Answer, fuckface!" You smack him again, this time in the abdomen. "What did that cat do to you, huh?" Another smack to his head. "Oh, buddy, you really pissed me off." A knee to the stomach and the man wants to retaliate, but that hit to his head made him dizzy. He shifts his weight from one leg to another but you don't let him regain his balance.

"God, stop-" The man cries out before you land a final lid to his face and he falls to the ground, foetal position.

"That's what I thought, motherfucker!" You proceed to frantically kick him everywhere you can — shoulders, nose, abdomen, knees. "Fuckin' goofy-looking piece of shit!" Kick. "Burn." Kick. "In." Kick. "Hell." Kick.

"Alright, that's enough-" Marc cannot fathom where you gathered the strength to inflict so much damage. But you're not done yet.

"You think hurting cats is fun?" You stomp on his hand. "Bet that cat has the time of its life watching you now." Stomp. "You stale piece of cheese!" Stomp. It's safe to say his own mother won't recognise him in the morning. "Alright, who's next?" You turn towards Marc and the two thugs but both of them are on their knees.

"Arrest us, please!"

"That was fun, partner!" You sing-song with a cheery voice.

"Fun? Fun?? That was anything BUT fun! It was stupid, reckless and absolutely bat-shit crazy!" Marc paces through the flat, fingers rubbing his temples.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Nut Knight." You stuff your face with Doritos. "I think-" munch "I did-" munch "a damn well job-" munch "if I do say so myself."

His lips are pursed, he opens his mouth to talk, but the words don't come out. Instead, his usually straight back is now slightly hunched, his scowl is gone, replaced by raised brows and wide eyes and the very familiar warmth in his brown irises.

"You... did you really beat a man to a pulp because he hurt a cat?" The British accent takes the place of the American one, the rage instantly turned into confusion. Steven knew this side of you better than Marc, but he didn't think you'd go that far.

"B-but, it was a stray cat! It was starving and cold!" You pout, Dorito dust covering your fingers and chin and it melts his heart. "I'm not sorry."

"I'm not scolding you." The corners of his lips turn upwards slightly. "But you really are like a canopic jar."

"Pretty on the outside, rotten on the inside?" You scrunch your nose, reminded of the stench.

"Fragile on the outside, but bloody killer on the inside. That is, if we're talking about 2.000 year old canopic jars."

"Potayto, potahto." You roll your eyes, preoccupied with your snack.

Yeah, Steven adores you, and it's good to know you can protect him in case Marc can't, because if you almost killed a guy for a cat, you'd slaughter hundreds and walk on their corpses for Steven.

And Marc loathes you less. For now.

#moon knight 🌙#moon knight #moon knight x reader #moonknight #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Patch Me Up

Thomas can’t help but set his heart on the prettiest Med-Jack in the Glade, Y/N L/N. The only problem is that Thomas is fairly sure that she’s way out of his league.

masterlist

The first time Thomas winds up in the med-jack clinic, he’s kind of embarrassed about it.

It wasn’t like he really meant to injure himself, anyway. It just so happened that he was really behind on clearing the weeds from whatever woebegotten section of the gardens the track hoes had allowed him to use, and Newt and Zart had stepped away for the time being, so Thomas got the bright idea to grab a longer blade from their casual resting place in the grass and try to lop all of the vines down before his friends saw. It was a great idea, of course, until his shins happened to be in the way.

Now Thomas is standing in the middle of his garden plot, blood leaking down into the soil, and all he can think about is the fact that he has no idea where to go from here. The vines have all been savagely cut away, which is perfect for him, but it’s too late to hide the bloodstain on the blade or the smear of red on his leg. He doesn’t really know what he expects Newt to say when he finds out, but he definitely doesn’t expect the blond boy to start laughing.

“Jeez, Greenie, you really are a klutz. First you trip while running to the Maze when you’re not even five minutes out of the Box, then you manage to stab yourself while gardening. How do you do it?” Thomas glares at his friend, who’s almost doubled over laughing now. “It’s not like it happened on purpose. Besides, I didn’t stab myself, it’s just a scratch.” Newt attempts to control himself. “Right, I’m sure about that. Not sure why you would go around slicing yourself, but I’m not about to question you. Come on, then, you’ll have to get the med-jacks to see to that.”

Thomas frowns, but follows Newt as the blond second in command starts to lead him away from the gardens and back towards the buildings of the Homestead and the center of the Glade. “The med-jacks?” Newt nods. “They’re what passes for doctors around here. They’ll fix you up with some bandages and antibiotics and you’ll be good to go, so long as you don’t stab yourself when trying to pick the tomatoes.” Newt was expecting Thomas’ attempt to hit him and dodges easily, which is unfortunate.

Eventually, Newt and Thomas enter a door into a structure that’s less a building and more just a hut. A roof is propped up on logs and twigs and whatever else the Builders could find, and Thomas can see rows of beds and tins of medical supplies lying around. It’s a mess, that’s for sure, but what isn’t in the Glade? Thomas has to hurry over to Newt, who’s already disappearing around a corner.

When Thomas catches up with Newt again, he’s surprised to see the blond boy talking to someone, a bright smile on his face. Newt, upon seeing Thomas approach, beckons for him to come over. “This is Thomas, by the way. Thomas, this is Y/N. She’s the one who patches most of us up around here.”

All of a sudden, Thomas feels like he’s been caught in the middle of a sunspot. There’s a girl in front of him now, a beautiful girl that makes Thomas wonder how on Earth he hasn’t seen her around before. He’s sure that he would remember her- even now, he’s doing his best to carefully memorize every detail of her face and hands and smile so he can cherish the memory for the days to come. She’s gorgeous, that much is certain, and she’s looking at him with so much happiness over just him that Thomas wants to grin stupidly.

However, he can’t just stand here gaping like an idiot, so he closes his mouth and manages a nod in greeting. Newt, watching with a raised eyebrow, seems to be enjoying this. “Don’t get too infatuated, Greenie. Y/N’s used to all of us and so she won’t ever go out with any of us. That’s just how it is.” Y/N laughs. “Maybe I’m just sick of the rest of you coming in here all the time to bother me.” Newt shrugs. “That too.”

They talk for a few moments, then Y/N claps her hands together, almost startling Thomas. “Right, Greenie, what’s your problem? I mean, what happened that would bring you to the med-jack hut?” Newt grins first at Thomas, then at Y/N. “I’m going to let you explain that one, greenbean. I’ll meet you back in the gardens.” With that, and a parting wave, Thomas is left alone with the closest thing to an angel he’s ever found in his life.

He doesn’t have time to sit and think about this, though. Y/N’s still regarding him expectantly, and Thomas can feel his cheeks start to heat up at the ridiculousness of his injury. Of course, the first time he meets a girl like Y/N he has to do it by the stupidest of means. Thomas gestures roughly towards his leg. “I, uh, accidentally cut myself.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “While in the gardens?” Thomas nods. “While in the gardens.”

He half expects her to laugh at him like Newt had, but instead she shrugs and reaches for a roll of bandages and some ointment. “Not the worst injury I’ve seen, or the worst story. You should have seen the things Newt used to come in here for. I think he once twisted an ankle when he was walking too close to a tree and forgot to move out of the way.” Thomas almost snorts. “He what?” Y/N looks up at him, halfway through treating his cut. There’s a laugh dancing behind her eyes that makes Thomas’ smile widen in spite of itself.

“Yeah, he tripped over a tree. We all thought it was hilarious and wouldn’t stop teasing him about it for weeks. Ask him and he’ll deny it, of course, but it happened nonetheless.” Thomas’ cheeks almost hurt from smiling this much. “Is that why he limps all the time? He hurt himself doing something like that?” All of a sudden, Y/N’s smile slips away from her. There’s a look in her eyes that tells Thomas that something happens, something bad that she can’t seem to shake. “No, not that.”

She stands up now, pressing a roll of bandages into his hands. “Here, that should hold for a while. Change your bandages before you go to bed, you don’t need me for that. It’s a shallow cut, so you’ll be fine.” Thomas wants to curse himself. Why’d he have to bring that up and make her feel so bad? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Y/N forces a smile, which is almost as bad to see as if she’d just started glaring at him. “No, it’s fine. You should probably go back to the gardens, though. I think Newt is waiting.”

Before he knows it, Thomas is standing outside the med-jack hut, staring at the door closed right in front of him. For a moment, all he can do is just stay there and think about what just happened. Thomas thought that whatever had happened to Newt was old, an injury that happened a while ago. Judging by Y/N’s reaction, though, it’s still fresh in her mind, and now he’s gone and reminded her of it. What does he do about that?

The second time Thomas finds himself in the med-jack hut, he does his best to avoid it.

It wasn’t like this injury was all that bad. Still embarrassing, still ended up with blood on his hands, but he didn’t need to go to the med-jacks, he’d be fine. That’s what Thomas tried to tell Minho, anyway, but his friend wouldn’t listen. “If you end up getting that cut infected, it’ll be a lot worse and Y/N will kill us all. Just go, you’ll be in and out in ten seconds and it’ll be fine.” Thomas tries his best to protest and come up with excuses to stay away from the flimsy hospital room, but in the end, Minho won’t take no for an answer, practically dragging him towards the hut anyway.

It’s not like Thomas has a particular aversion to getting medical treatment, it’s just that he’s afraid to see the girl there waiting for him. Ever since that day, when he’d mistakenly brought up Newt’s injury, Thomas can’t help but feel guilty. He can’t figure out quite what it was that would make Y/N’s seemingly ever-bright eyes darken like an approaching storm, but it was definitely something he’d said. He’s not sure that Y/N will really want to talk to him, as she’d more than given that impression by shooing him out of her workplace, so he’s done his best to avoid the med-jack hut.

However, he can’t exactly tell all this to Minho, so all Thomas can do is try his best to argue his friend out of a trip to the hut. Minho refuses, of course, and Thomas finds himself waiting in the med-jack hut a few minutes later, arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. He sends up a silent prayer to whoever is listening that he’ll get Clint or Jeff, but when he hears someone say his name in a surprised voice, he recognizes it as Y/N and Y/N alone.

She walks over to them, holding a thermometer from where she’d been organizing a box of supplies recently arrived from the Box. “What’s up, you guys?” Minho jerks his thumb towards Thomas with a grimace. “This shank went and cut himself on the walls of the Maze while we were out running. He tripped and caught himself, but his shoulder bit it. It was kind of funny, actually.” Y/N playfully swats Minho while she walks by. “No making fun of injuries, Minho. We’ve talked about this. I’m the only one who gets to do that.”

Now she’s standing in front of Thomas, grimacing in sympathy at the small bloodstain over his shoulder blade. “You’ll need to clean that up pretty soon. Minho, you go ahead to the Map Room. I’ll take care of Thomas.” Minho flashes her a thumbs up, already starting to jog out of the room. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Y/N grins as she watches him go, then turns back to Thomas, who’s still standing there with apprehension rising in his chest. What is he supposed to say now? Sorry I brought up what might have been a traumatic incident in your past, I didn’t know and kind of felt loopy whenever you smiled at me? Yeah, that wouldn’t really work out too well.

As it turns out, he doesn’t have to think at all. She’s already conjuring up a fresh grin for him, an inquisitive expression on her face. “You know, usually whenever Greenies show up, they go through the same routine of showing up here with fake injuries just to see the one girl in the Glade, but seeing as Minho had to physically drag you here, I don’t think that’s the case. Bandages again?” Thomas manages to nod. “Sure, that sounds great.”

Y/N’s already spinning back across the room to grab the roll of bandages, but she holds up a finger in the air just in case. “That’s good, because I wasn’t asking. That’s a little check, just to make sure you aren’t out of your shucking mind.” Thomas snorts. “Who isn’t?” Y/N laughs as she starts to dress the wound. “Well, I was kind of wondering if you were. You’ve practically been avoiding me ever since we met.”

Thomas has to admit that this is true- in all of his fear to misspeak again, he’s been constantly passing up opportunities to talk to Y/N again. He doesn’t sit next to her at meals, he doesn’t cross the bonfire to say hello. Looking back at it now, it does look as if he’s been trying to distance himself, even if that couldn’t be further from how he felt. Thomas scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Maybe I’m still a dumb Greenie who doesn’t know how to talk to the one girl in the Glade.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “That’s a lie and you know it. Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?” There’s a hesitancy in her question, like she’s second-guessing herself. Thomas almost rushes over himself in his haste to convince her that this isn’t her fault. “No, it’s not like that. It’s just- I know I upset you the last time we talked, and I felt bad about that. I guess I just kind of figured that you wouldn’t want to see me for a while.”

Y/N looks up at him in surprise, bandages forgotten. “What are you talking about? Thomas, that was a one time thing, I swear. It was just a hard day and a hard memory, nothing more. Shuck, you’ve been guilting yourself over this the entire time?” Thomas shrugs, a slight smile on his lips. “Well, not the whole time.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, he clarifies. “Maybe a little bit more than most of the time. Okay, a lot.”

Y/N giggles, and Thomas almost wants to make a fool of himself a few more times just to hear it. “Consider this whole thing over and done. I officially forgive you for something that I forgot about an hour after the conversation.” She grins, and Thomas grins with her. “That sounds good to me.” Y/N nods, taking a step backward to consider her work. “You know what would sound good to me? If you stopped injuring yourself all the time. I mean, I go through a roll of bandages like every hour.”

Thomas scoffs. “That’s because there are more shanks in the Glade than just me, Y/N. I’m not the only one getting hurt.” Y/N points at him to further her point. “Yeah, you’d better not. In fact, simply stop being injured. Easy as that.” He can’t help but laugh, and Y/N’s eyes sparkle triumphantly at this. “You’ve got a nice laugh, Thomas.” As with anyone else, Thomas’ laugh dries up slightly when he hears this truth, like the second he’s complimented he has to hide that very thing.

He doesn’t know what to do now, where to go from here. All he can really do is stand here and watch her smiling at him. To be honest, Thomas is fairly sure that’s all he would ever want to do. He knows it’s time for him to leave and stop bothering her, but Y/N’s looking at him like she just might give him a chance, so he decides to offer her one. “I hear they’re having a bonfire later tonight. Want to go with me?” Y/N’s grin broadens. “Absolutely.”

Just like that, Thomas’ day is made.

maze runner tag list: the a-maze-ing (haha) @underc0vercryptid, @ellobruv

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whump-me-baby-one-more-time · 3 years

Text

Let's talk about leg whump!

- Want an injury that isn't lethal if left untreated but hurts like hell? Want something non-fatal that will nonetheless incapacitate Whumpee for days or even months to come? Search no more! Leg whump has it all!

- Broken legs! So much fun to torture Whumpee with, as they're excruciatingly painful and will *not* let you forget about them for even a moment unless you're seriously numbed out. Usually not serious enough to kill Whumpee, even if left unattended for weeks, it will make every movement from there on out a hassle.

- Wanna run away? With a broken leg? Oh joy! Maybe, *maybe*, depending on the fracture and Whumpee's determination / pain tolerance, they can still walk on it, but it's more of a hobble than anything else and it *hurts*.

- Broken bones can still puncture skin and tissue if fractured badly enough, so if you want Whumpee to slowly and miserably bleed out, leg whump has you covered as well.

- Speaking of bleeding out: Shot In The Leg is such a good trope, don't even get me started. Potentially fatal, it can immediately take out Whumpee as their leg crumbles under them and pain flashes through their entire body. Severed arteries aside, this one is a lovely way of putting your Whumpee in a situation where death from blood loss isn't immediate, thus giving you the opportunity to let Whumpee suffer for hours without any medical aid available.

- Shock! Listen, I've almost passed out once from a sprained ankle. The pain was barely worth mentioning but something inside of me tensed and twisted up so much from the shock of getting hurt and suddenly not being able to walk properly anymore that I couldn't stand up for over an hour without getting extremely dizzy and seeing spots.

(This can very well include vomiting, passing out, violent shaking, cold sweats, uncontrollable crying and so much more that will leave Whumpee in shambles and humiliated. Shock takes a lot of different forms and they're all valid, I just want to point out that being immobilised suddenly and violently would definitely be a good reason to go into shock, even with minor injuries.)

- On that note: Sprained ankles! If you want Whumpee to have to be carried around by Caretaker but don't actually want them to be in grave danger, this is the way to go. Sprained ankles are so good, holy shit. Nasty swelling, bruises, constant discomfort and pain - it's Whump heaven. Not being able to walk around because of such a "minor" injury would also very likely piss off Whumpee to no end.

(When I sprained my ankle and had to take a break from training for a while, I was already fed up by day two. Also, having to have someone do so much stuff for you can be extremely stressful for someone who already feels like a burden. Self-blame, guilt, anger at themselves for not healing quickly enough, constantly wanting to apologise for being "such a pain" - all of that, without any serious threat to Whumpee, is what Sprained Ankles can do for you!)

- Sprained ankles hurt even when you're lying down. You laughed and your leg moved? Ow. You sneezed and your foot tensed up? That bitch is gonna be giving you hell for a couple of minutes now. Someone accidentally bumped into it? Whoops, you're choking down tears before they even had the chance to apologise. Got a cat? Got a cat that likes to lay on your legs or feet? Have fun!

- Leg amputations are very valid but I feel like they deserve their own post, hence they don't really feature here.

- Just. Whumpee, writhing on the floor because of a fucked up leg or foot while Whumper slowly walks up to them, knowing exactly that Whumpee can't escape.

- Whumper pushing their heel down on the injury, causing Whumpee to scream in agony. That small, twisted smile on Whumper's face at having so much power over Whumpee with so little effort.

- Whumper forcing Whumpee to get up, maybe pulling them onto their knees or dragging them up onto their feet with brutal force. Whumpee choking on more screams or whimpers or pleas of mercy as their weight comes down on their broken/shot/twisted/stabbed/sprained leg.

- Caretaker tries to rescue Whumpee, but they didn't expect Whumpee to be unable to walk. How will they fight off Whumper's lackeys while carrying Whumpee out? Can they even carry Whumpee? (With some luck Whumpee will be starved and emaciated enough at that point for Caretaker to carry them easily.)

- Caretaker has to put Whumpee down for a moment and Whumpee just. Drops to the floor from the agony. Bloody fingers wrapped around edges of furniture, knocking things off of tables, hoarse whimpers as Caretaker picks them up...

- Not convinced yet? Just think of how much Whump a badly healed leg can cause! Including, but not limited to: Limping, constant need of painkillers, limited mobility, heightened sensitivity, a ceaseless reminder of the hell they've been through-

- Just... Leg whump 😩👌

#I am being a gremlin #leg whump #tw broken bones #cw broken bones #broken bones #gunshot wound #tw gunshot wound #tw bleeding out #bleeding out #bloo #tw blood #cw blood #cw gunshot wound #captivity #broken leg #hurt #injured leg #again if you want me to add a tag please tell me #sprained ankle

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emilyjunk · 2 years

Note

Don’t know if you’re taking prompts but if you are, could you write one for kate bishop where she gets seriously injured and yelena tends her wounds but then she realizes kate is worse than she thought and kate is in denial saying she’s fine.

Okay…

…this looks bad.

But come on, you should see the other guys! You know, those Tracksuit Morons? Those idiots in that fake as hell moving van? Yeah, those guys? Those guys aren’t gonna be geting out of a hospital bed anytime soon.

So, things went south. Big deal! They totally had it! It honestly wouldn’t have even been a problem if Kingpin hadn’t noticed her. And okay, maybe he only noticed her because she fell through the window again, but hey, everyone has their weaknesses. Dangling down through windows just happens to be Kate’s.

She’s working on it.

So maybe she took a couple hits. Maybe she was slashed a few times across her stomach in a terrifyingly almost-lethal way. Maybe she was a little reckless and needed to be yanked to safety by a trained Russian assassin who may or may not want to kill her partner-in-crime-fighting. She still got that last shot off, didn’t she?

So it looks bad. True! Valid! But it doesn’t feel bad, okay? Because she totally saved the day. The emotional trauma that will come with that whole ordeal can wait (helloooooo, her mom???? And Kingpin?!). For now, she’s skating along on the success of that perfect shot. Riding the nauseating high of victory.

Or maybe that dizzying feeling is from a concussion. Who can really say?

“Sit still, Kate Bishop, or I will accidentally stab you with this needle.”

Kate frowns petulantly. “I am sitting still.”

“You are swaying like a leaf in the wind.”

“It’s the adrenaline.”

Yelena levels a look at her, except it’s a little wonky because there’s like, three of her. “It’s the blood loss.”

“Adrenaline.”

“Blood loss.”

“Adrenaline.”

“Blood loss.”

Kate opens her mouth again, but Yelena actually does stab her a little with the needle. “Ow!”

“Sit still.”

Kate huffs. “I’m fine! What is it with you people and overreacting about my injuries? First Clint, now you? Honestly, I’ll just put another frozen pizza on it and it’ll heal right up in no time.”

Yelena pauses, her lips twisting. “Frozen pizza? What is this form of First Aid? I haven’t heard of it.”

“It’s like an ice pack. For the swelling.”

“And it is… frozen pizza?”

“Yup.”

Yelena narrows her eyes. “This sounds like you are bullshitting, Kate Bishop.”

“I would never do that. That doesn’t sound like me at all. I’ll tell it to you straight, Yelena. Well, not that straight. Like I always say, the only straight thing about me is how I shoot arrows. Ha. Well, actually some of them really do curve, so is that even right? Oh geez, you’re spinning. I’m gonna shut up.”

Kate shuts her eyes and her mouth. Breathes through her nose. Focuses on the nimble fingers pulling at the skin of her abdomen.

“You for sure have concussion.”

Kate grunts in affirmation. “Yeah, that tracks.”

“And maybe broken ankle.”

“No way! It’s totally just a sprain.”

“You will need crutches.”

“Please don’t add insult to injury. Haven’t I been through enough?”

“Kate Bishop. Be quiet and listen for once in your life.” Kate resents that, but she makes herself be quiet and listen for once in her life. She flutters her eyes open, shoulders sagging slightly. Yelena squats next to her, arms resting across her thighs, and taps Kate on the side of the head with two fingers. “Let’s make a deal.”

Kate looks up at her, frowning. “What kind of deal could you possibly want with me? You’re a Black Widow. I’m a half-baked sidekick with an eternal concussion.”

Yelena smirked. “It’s a cute joke, Kate Bishop. But we both know you don’t belong as a sidekick.”

Maybe it’s lame, like, who needs validation from someone who could kill you and walk away without a second thought? But it made Kate warm anyway. She maybe even blushed. Or that could be from the concussion. Whatever. “You don’t need to flatter me. I think you have the upper hand here.”

“Very true! You are smart. I like that.” Yelena let her fingers dangle toward Kate’s bum ankle, the tips of them feather-brushing against the swollen skin. “I like your style. You have grit. And you are genius with a bow. I do not say this lightly. But you are reckless and, mmm, kind of a mess.”

“You really know how to give a girl’s ego whiplash.”

“I can help you. We can be allies. And in exchange, you will show me around New York. I want to see the sights. I want to know the spots. I want to try the native food.”

Kate wryly raises an eyebrow. “Dollar slice pizza?”

“None of that frozen shit you use for First Aid.”

Kate stares at her for a long moment, letting the past week or so wash over her. First an Avenger became her friend/partner, and now a Black Widow wants her to show her around the city. What even? “And what if I say no? You’re gonna kill me?”

Yelena snorts. “For what reason do I have to kill you, Kate Bishop? There is none. No, you can say no. That’s up to you. But if we ever cross paths while I’m working again, then I can’t guarantee anything.”

“I see.”

“You run with different crowds now, you know. Take advantage. Also, just wondering, have you tried a hot dog on a stick? I think I would like to try that. After we splint up your ankle and wait out that concussion. We will get you some crutches.”

Kate groans. “Okay, it is so not that serious!” Yelena blinks numbly at her. Then her fingers press firmly down on Kate’s ankle. Kate yelps.

Yelena smirks. “Crutches, Kate Bishop. No excuses.”

“Fine.”

“And keep it elevated. Hot and cold.”

Kate slumps on her back with a groan. “Okay, okay!”

“And no frozen pizza!”

“I regret this friendship.”

Yelena beams. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow you will not. Now, heal up. I will walk your dog and feed him some pizza. Of the non-frozen kind.”

Kate watches helplessly as Yelena takes her dog and exits the apartment, wondering what the hell she’s gotten herself into.

#kate bishop #yelena belova #kate x yelena #my writing #inquiries #anonymous #i literally never thought i would write for marvel and if i did it wouldve been amerikate but hey miracles happen ig #if anyone hits me with ship discourse about this i will straight up never write again #lmao

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thischachamaru · 3 years

Text

Don’t You Need Somebody to Love?

Summary: Looking for work in the city, Tanjiro accidentally wanders into the Red Light District, and has an encounter he won’t forget.

For RenTan Week, Day 1: Red Light District

READ ON AO3

🌻

He was perched on a balcony when Tanjiro first saw him, fumbling through the red light district, and apologizing to busybodies bumping into him.

Swathed in red and gold silks, he paced on top of a wooden railing, drawing dropped jaws from the crowd. He swept a long sleeve over his head to peek at the moon, drawing his kimono up in a way that exposed the elegant lines of his ankles.

“That Rengoku,” huffed a nearby girl. She flipped open a fan. “Always making a scene.”

Ogling someone like this isn’t proper, Tanjiro realized with a start. I should leave. Get back to work.

Yet his feet were glued to the spot.

“Rengoku,” he mumbled to himself, picking out the kanji. Refining metals, kneeling over fire… prison. Purgatory. Hell.

As if summoned, Rengoku grinned, teeth sharp, more of a tiger than an oiran.

“Hello down there!” he roared, beads jingling in his hairpiece. His toes curled over the railing, and he squatted down, kimono parting obscenely.

“Sir, please be careful!” Tanjiro blurted. “If you fall, you might get hurt!”

Rengoku tilted his head, like a fox.

“Who said that!”

The crowd took one big step away from Tanjiro. That girl from earlier sniffed, jabbed the end of her fan at him.

“You there!” Rengoku shouted, voice booming several stories down. “In the checkered haori. With the basket of charcoal!”

Tanjiro looked to the left, then to the right, searching, against all odds, for someone that met his description. No one would meet his eyes. He gingerly raised his chin. “Um…”

“Yes, you!” Rengoku pointed at him. “The rude one.”

“Rude?” Tanjiro stammered. “I was concerned!”

“You interrupted.”

It was a performance, Tanjiro abruptly realized. Rengoku knew this balcony as well as Tanjiro knew the mountains, tiptoeing gingerly among craggy cliffs, and frozen rivers, only slipping once.

Once was all it took.

“I… I’m sorry!” Tanjiro bowed at a deep angle, charcoal clattering over him, and onto the ground. “Please excuse me! I really am- was, worried.”

Rengoku considered him for several moments. Then, as if deciding something, he nodded to himself, slipping down to sit on the railing.

“That’s very touching! But unnecessary,” Rengoku said, with a laugh. A strip of muscular thigh gleamed from behind his kimono. Definitely unconventional.

When Tanjiro finally looked up, he choked, and ducked his head again, thanking the gods that his hakama were loose.

Too much! This guy really was too much!

“Everyone needs somebody looking after them,” Tanjiro mumbled. He kept his eyes low.

Rengoku’s ears twitched. “Come again!”

“I…”

Dozens of stares stabbed into him.

Of course, they were in public. Shouting such things, especially to someone so— prominent. It was indecent.

“…I’ll tell you later!” Tanjiro promised. Was that too informal? “Bye!”

“Ah?”

It was too late. Tanjiro swept up his charcoal, tossing it back into the basket, before dashing away, dodging under a carriage, and ducking into an alley filled with lanterns. Only then did he dare to look back, heart pounding at his rib cage.

Even at this distance, he was beautiful.

#tanren #RenTan #kyotan #kyojuro Rengoku #thischachafics #rentanweekday1

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

I Fear We’re Facing A Problem

Pairing: Carol Danvers x enhanced!Fem Reader

Words: sorry, laptop is still being a bitch so it’s another mobile

Summary: You convince Carol to join you on a night out and a good time is had by all!

Warnings: WLW, explicit language, explicit sexual content (spanking, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of using a dildo), violence (but nothing too gory, just standard canon stuff), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Another from my WIP folder and my second WLW fic! (Which I really need to write more of btw cus this was a real treat). I also may have accidentally stumbled on a little something that I had never thought of before but that is most likely going to be coming in the future, see if you can pick up those hints! 😉

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!!

Carol dodged a beer bottle as she stepped into the bar, cursing to herself before scanning the room for additional threats.

And boy were there a lot of them.

When you had drunk dialed her 20 minutes ago, noting your intention to start a fight with some chauvinist assholes, she hadn’t really believed you. But there you were in the middle of a full on brawl, punching some idiot in an army uniform in the mouth before grabbing a pitcher and breaking it over his head.

Carol moved forward as one of your victim’s companions grabbed you around the middle and lifted you off the floor. She tossed aside some moron in a leather jacket easily as he came at her with a broken bottle before wrapping her arm around the neck of the jackass that had you in a hold.

He choked and released you, his hands scrabbling at Carol’s forearm. She ignored him as you launched yourself over the table and kicked another of the army boys in the face before turning and shooting her a grin.

“Hey Danvers!” You said, grabbing another assailant by the back of the neck and tossing him across the room with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Y/N, what have I told you about drinking by yourself?” She said, dropping the man she was holding with a thud as he had finally passed out. She ducked as someone across the bar threw a stool, catching it in midair and hefting it back at him.

“I wasn’t by myself.” You said as you ripped a leg off one of the tables and cracked it across some guys back. “Thor was here, and he brought some bomb-ass mead.”

“That asshole left you here by yourself after getting you drunk on Asgardian mead?” She was going to have to have a talk with that idiot next time she saw him.

“Unlike someone, Thor knows I can take care of myself.” You said with an eye roll before breaking a beer bottle and plunging it into the thigh of some new moron.

“You’re not the one I’m worried about, sweetheart.” She scolded as she caught the leg of one of the idiots and threw him across the room.

“Oh, it’s sweetheart now?” You said with a snort before head butting someone.

“I am so not having this discussion with you right now.” She said before punching some asshole in the ribs.

“We gotta have it sometime, though.” You laughed as you caught a fist in your palm and drove your other hand into the idiot’s elbow until you heard a snap.

“Well maybe if you tried asking me out when you were sober, we’d get somewhere.” She said sarcastically, dodging a punch and throwing the puncher one handed into the ceiling.

“What?!? Y/N, I leave to get you sustenance and you start a fight?” Thor thundered, absorbing a couple of blows before picking up one of the army brats with one hand and striding towards you, hefting the grease soaked bag above the fray.

“Thorsie baby, you got my burrito!!!” You said giddily, tossing the man who was trying to stab you aside as you hopped on a table and pounced on the Asgardian, making grabby hands at the food.

“I can’t believe you left her unsupervised after giving her mead.” Carol said as things finally started to calm down as the bar patrons eyed the god who had just strode in with wariness. She slapped down a giant wad of cash on the bar, hoping it would be enough to cover all the damages.

“She was hungry and getting insistent, I didn’t think she could start anything in half an hour.” He said with a bit of a pout as he ignored your eating, your legs still wrapped around him as you moaned around your burrito.

“You’re a fucking enabler, Odinson.” Carol said with a shake of her head. “Did you forget about Helsinki?”

“Ha, that was a good time!” You said around a mouth full of burrito.

“It was an international shitshow, Y/N.” She said as Thor guffawed. “Poor Nat had to do damage control for a month. What am I gonna do with you?”

“You could make me your housewife.” You said teasingly before taking another giant bite of your burrito, slowly unwrapping yourself from Thor as you arrived at Carol’s Jeep.

She rolled her eyes at you as you gave her the most ridiculous doe eyes she’d ever seen. “You’re so fucking manipulative.”

“Please, I’d be a damn amazing housewife.” You grumbled, waiting for Thor to crawl into the backseat. “Isn’t that right, Thorsie?”

“Her pancakes are delectable.” Thor said with an appreciative nod.

“See?! I’d make you pancakes everyday baby!” You whined as you buckled yourself in.

She just shook her head at you as she started the engine and pulled out.

You stuck out your tongue at her before turning to Thor over your shoulder. “Well, since Danvers here has a fear of commitment,” you said, ignoring her scoff. “ you want to make an honest woman out of me, Odinson?”

He threw his head back and laughed heartily before clapping a hand on your shoulder. “I would be honored to have you for my queen, Y/N.”

“Alright, that’s enough you two.” Carol growled. She was starting to get annoyed with your antics.

“Oh, are you jealous?” You said as you turned back to her, grinning like an idiot. “Cuz just say the word babe and I’d leave Mr. Asgard in a heartbeat, sorry Thor.”

He just chuckled at the two of you as Carol finally pulled into the compound, a scowl on her face.

“Let’s get you back to your room, Y/N.” She said resignedly, climbing down from the front seat and shaking her head at you.

“Are you gonna take advantage of me in my inebriated state, Danvers?” You teased as you stumbled out of the vehicle, Thor catching your arm and steadying you as he followed. “Cuz I’m down.”

“I’m gonna sober you up so you’re ready for the shitstorm that’s coming your way once your little bar brawl hits the news.”

“Ugh, lame!!!” You said with a roll of your eyes as you followed after her.

The three of you made your way to the living quarters, Thor holding you steady as you wobbled on still drunk legs, grinning and laughing with him as Carol marched in front of you. She shook her head at you two as you reached the door to your room. You leaned against the wall with a huff and a pout as she worked on unlocking your door.

“I’ve got her from here, Odinson.” She said as she got the door open, swinging it onwards and giving him his own look of reproach. “And don’t think your getting off easy, I already apprised Rogers of your role in this fiasco.”

“Ha, the Captain doesn’t scare me!” He said, doing a piss poor job of hiding the flash of worry that crossed his face. He turned to give you a grin and a kiss on the forehead before turning to leave. “Have a good night ladies.”

You turned to give Carol a knowing grin before she shoved you inside and followed after you, slamming the door behind her.

She finally let her face split into a massive grin now that the two of you were alone, a hearty laugh ripping from her chest that you reciprocated as she stepped into you.

“So, Thor knows then?” She said as she ripped off her leather jacket and tossed it aside, working on unbuttoning her flannel.

“Of course he knows, babe.” You said as you wrenched your tee over your head, moving to unbutton your jeans. “Pretty sure he figured it out as soon as it happened.”

“You didn’t tell him then?” She asked you with a cocked eyebrow as she stepped out of her boots and kicked them aside.

You rolled your eyes as you bent to untie your sneakers. “No, I don’t know why you want to keep it a secret though.”

“Mmm, I just like knowing that I get to do all these filthy things to you and no one has any idea about it.” She said as she watched you straighten back up, wearing nothing but your bralette and thong. “Now bend over the couch.”

“What?!?! Oh c’mon babe, we weren’t serious when we made that deal!”

“I was absolutely serious, sweetie. Now bend over and take your punishment like a good girl.”

You pouted and did as you were told, supporting yourself on your elbows as you presented your ass to her.

“Spread those legs further.” She ordered, tapping her toes against the inside of your ankle until you complied. “There she is. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous, we’re only gonna do 10 tonight, since you managed to keep your antics local.”

“Yes ma’am.” You said grudgingly, a shiver running up your spine as she ran her fingers up the back of your thigh.

The first smack jolted you forward suddenly, almost sending you tumbling over the couch as you dug your hands into the cushions. Carol ran her hand soothingly over the red handprint that she’d raised on your left ass cheek before bracing her other hand over your back and grinning down at you.

“That’s one.” She said, her fingers brushing over your clothed core and making you whine before she slapped your other cheek just has hard. “Two.”

She made the same soothing gesture over your right cheek before spanking you directly above your clenching pussy and making you scream.

“Ooh, three.” She said, biting her lip as she rubbed her hand in a big circle over your sex, feeling the dampening cloth of your panties with a satisfied smirk. “Fuck, baby.”

She gave two more slaps to each cheek in a quick succession that had you whimpering and sinking into the sofa, your knees starting to give out. Her next smack was over your core again, and you whined as a fresh rush of arousal flowed out of you and started to leak down your thighs, the fabric of your panties now soaked completely through.

“Love how wet my baby gets.” Carol cooed before shredding your panties with a quick twist of her wrist and flinging the ruins aside. She sucked in a breath as she got a look at the mess between your legs; plump swollen folds flushed with heat and pulsing with need as juices flowed out you. “Just two more. Think I can make you cum from just a spanking?”

Her ninth slap was right over your entrance and made you twitch as she kept her hand curled over your mound, just pressing against you as she felt the muscles of your core throbbing under her fingers. She took a layer of slick with her when she withdrew her hand, and you peeked over your shoulder to watch her suck your arousal from her fingers.

“Carol...” you whined, your breath coming in needy little pants as you waited for her to give you your last spank.

“Such a needy little baby. You better ask me real nice sweetie, otherwise I might just tie you up and leave you all frustrated. Maybe I’ll make you watch me fuck myself on that stormbreaker dildo you’ve been keeping secret. Would you like that?”

“Fuck, Carol! Please, please fucking spank me! I promise I’ll be your good girl!” You moaned, trying to press yourself back into her hand, desperate for release.

“Aww, but I don’t want you to be a good girl.” She said.

Her final spank was a direct hit to your clit, and you screamed as your entire body spasmed. Your fingers dug into the couch cushions as you squirted all over Carol’s hand, your knees finally giving out as you sobbed with pleasure.

“Oh, I knew you could do it baby.” She said as she started to press soft kisses down your back, her hand still in between your legs rubbing in big, slow circles over your pussy with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. “Love making my bad girl fall apart. Don’t you dare start behaving now.”

“Yes ma’am.” You sighed into the cushions as you came down.

Carol ran her lips and tongue over the swollen marks she’d left on you, her hand an your core starting to press into you harder. You gasped when she suddenly pulled you apart, her fingers spreading your folds and barely giving you a chance to adjust before her tongue ran over your slit in a heavy stripe.

“Shit!” You cried as you thumped your first against the sofa, your cunt clenching around nothing as Carol lapped at your sex like it was the first drink she’d had in weeks.

She grinned against you, slipping a finger inside you and making your keen as her lips wrapped around your clit. You had to fight to stay upright as she slipped in a second finger, scissoring them inside you and stretching you open as she suckled at your tiny button, making you clench around her.

You let out an inhuman shriek when she added the third finger, thrusting yourself backwards into her face and fucking yourself on her hand as her mouth still worked at taking you apart. She shook her head to bury her face even deeper and you lost it, sobbing as your body tried to curl in on itself as your orgasm crashed over you.

Carol brought both hands to keep you from collapsing at the same time she pressed the flat of her tongue over your pussy, moaning as you throbbed against her face and she caught your release as it squirted out of you, swallowing it greedily as her lips wrapped around your sex.

Your body finally stopped shaking and she stood up behind you, curling over your back and turning your head so she could press her lips against yours. She teased your lips with your tongue and you opened up to her, whining into her mouth as you tasted yourself.

“Mmm, how you feeling baby?” She asked with a grin as she pulled away from you, taking your breath with her.

“Pretty fucking fantastic.” You said, beaming back at her. You flipped yourself over until you landed on the couch with a huff, making her roll her eyes at you. “Really wanna make you feel good too, beautiful.” You said with a wink.

“Yeah? How you gonna do that?” She said as she watched you reach under the couch, searching for something.

“Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You said as you straightened back up, placing a long black box on your lap. “I don’t know how you found out about this, but it’s gonna blow your fucking mind. Say hello to the stormbreaker.”

You opened the box to reveal a massive, pretty realistic looking dildo and Carol let out a guffaw as you wiggled your eyebrows at her suggestively.

“I love you sweetheart, but I’m not letting you fuck me with a dildo based off one of our best friends!”

“Don’t be such a square, baby!” You said, standing up to chase after her as she headed into the bedroom. “He’d be flattered!!”

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