#riptide x male reader

[burstinn]

THE EVERY GAY MANS DREAM READER

TALL, BUFF, BIG BOOBS AND ASS everything

Can't find no good pic for this so..

This post includes:Ghost, Graves, Price, Soap, Nikto, Riptide, Krueger, Konig, Alejandro, Rudy, Gaz, Horangi, Makarov, Velikan, Keegan, Roach. In that order

Yes I wrote all those, yes because I haven't written in a while

Notes:

- NSFW and SFW (Bottom male and top male reader mentioned)

-since y'all like the big buff n' tall male reader, made him bigger and taller basically mixed everything I wrote about male reader, tall, big buff, big cake, big boobs it's like a package in one this will probably be the last of this type of reader since running out ideas. It was hard making original headcanons 💔💔.

-Omg I haven't written in a while so like this might get idk boring?

- Yes again headcanons,you're favs

- strictly MALE READER not Gn rn

- readers age is ambiguous but if you can't think and want an age for reader my thinking is somewhere near late 30s or early 40s

- Some of the HCS have where y'all ain't in a relationship some HCS have y'all r in a relationship

- these headcanons definitely are mischaracterized but let me pretend for a bit 💔💔

- Tiktok got to me now I have brainrot language, so Trigger warning wooohh braiinroot

- can't believe this post was long enough to make my phone lag just a lil bit

- When he first saw you of course he was 😦😧😮

GHOST

- Like okay overkill, like you're taller, buffer and probably have a huger cock??? (Something he can investigate.. For purposes..)

Like you also got smoobs?? A plumpy ass??

Like save some for the rest Jesus 😒😒

- Nonstop staring secretly ofc, You be like in a room then you feel someone staring just to see Ghost somewhere in the corner of the room. You can't tell if he's staring or not but being that you are in an empty room.. Yknow it's kind of obv--

- BUT if you are not in an empty room you will not shake off the staring I mean holy shit look at you like 😨😨🍑✋

- You can literally hear him breathing heavily under his mask like how can he control himself when HE a person who is supposed to be looked up to literally and figuratively now has to look up at YOU?? do you know what does to a person??

-That's right it makes them freaky..

-Probably jerks off to you too

- I mean who doesn't want to get railed by a 7 ft tall man? Especially ESPECIALLY when you've been the supposed dominant person your whole life??

- OMG immediately Cumming to the thought

- I mean he won't mind topping you it also drives his own ego seeing a dominant man get absolutely wrecked, imagine the begging and whining

- plus he won't mind being the person who feels protected not always doing the protecting like 💔💔 he wants to feel protected too 😞

GRAVES

- Immediate gay awakening

- thinks making his western accent more prominent would make you think he sounds more hot

- Will dress up as a cowboy and will will ask (beg) you to do it as well

- because you know.. Hat thing.. Riding.. Graves grabs your hat puts it on his head or Graves grabs his hat puts it on your head, either way one of you is riding something and it ain't a horse

- because of the amazing quote on who ever came up w/ that is "save a horse ride a cowboy"

- Graves is obviously the type of guy to look at your ass and whistle maybe slap it, nah definitely slap it

PRICE

- He thinks of you like a bear

- like You're soo- big and cuddly? Definitely intimidating

- I mean you're near the same age bracket so it's not bad to have some.. Thoughts right?

- You're definitely hairy underneath or not but pls be he wants pubes to tickle his nose

- if you don't have a beard for reader then he would KILL to see have a beard like aughh perfect bear look, if you have a beard immediately cumming(/j) or (not /j)

- Like imagine you and price who are basically like bears like parent bears and and you the other 141 boys are like your children 🥺🥺

SOAP

- DEFINITELY became more gayer

- errrmmm.. Like his eyes are BASICALLY near like chest height

- bumping into you and his face touches your chest like omgg.. Such an accident 💔💔

- Obviously flirting about going to pound town

- like imagine You and Him? In a relationship? Having the most feral sex??? Like it's obv jokes (it's not)

- He would also do anything to see a big man whimper like a little bicth slut, who wouldn't want to see a demon of a man roll his eyes back and whine like a wheoeororoe❤, I mean if he tops I'd imagine him saying "cmon you're a big boy ain't cha'? You can handle a few more inches". While you are also getting the malevolent backshots.

- He would also want a big strong arm to man handle him as he takes the most vigorous backshots known to man

- Have you ever thought or seen a very tall wall like 10 or 11 ft high and you being you, Soap asks (demands) for you to carry him on your shoulder because he wants to see what's over the wall

NIKTO

- intimidating guy and intimidating guy typa relationship but your not in a relationship.. Yet.

- watch him watch you

- shows off his knife collection to you, yes I think he has a knife collection and he will show it to people that he wants to impress (he wants to get freaky with you)

- I like to think if he strips off the gear he gives the most desperate kind of touchy hug, to those he feels close with of course which is you

- lucky you

RIPTIDE

- Offers to teach you how to swim yknow just in case

- there is none, he wants to see you wet

- tells you to wear a white shirt and shorts because its Essential for training, it's a lie he wants to see the water wet your clothes making it stick to your body.. Yknow the white shirt showing whats underneath and the shorts outlining what package you've been hiding even though you weren't really hiding it

- He gets too distracted, the others are too, he forgets how to teach you

KRUEGER

- indefinite eye contact while your doing it

- likes staring into them, if you get shy and look away he will grab your jaw and make you have eye contact with him

- angry fierce ahh eyes

- he's an emotional grumpy guy, rip off his mask and aggressively kiss his face

- He wants the after sex laying on the chest while the other is rubbing their head, goes both ways.

- trace his tattoos and compliment them the bedroom will be locked the whole day, trust 🙏

KÖNIG

- The same as Ghosts

- Imagine being the one to get carried instead of the one carrying

- König would definitely come up to you and ask to be carried while you kiss his face multiple times❤❤

- Imagine how hard he gets because you have to look down at him to talk like HNGRHRRGGGRGRRR

- Definitely likes giving you homemade arts and crafts gear because you know.. The headcanon where König makes his own gear and what if he does it for other people too as gifts💔

- likes seeing you wear his mask it makes him imagine what people see when they see König definitely a change of perspective. He can see how intimidating you are and he gets hard.

ALEJANDRO

- will definitely compliment you in Spanish when talking about you with other people even when you're in front or behind him.

- I mean you don't understand Spanish right?

- if you don't, you're oblivious and only just watch curiously on what he's talking about. Buuut but but if you do understand you don't tell him you undeestrand this thing literally feeds your ego like Alejandro thinks of you this way? 🥺🥺

- Thigh riding type of guy idc who thigh riding

RUDY

- everytime I look at him he looks like a soft vanilla type

- I know he's a strong guy but look at him

- He wants soft sex 😞😞

- He also likes being complimented if you whisper a praise to him when he's doing ANYTHING. Imagine the babies you'd both have together.

- He likes toddlers and babies and if you do too a plus for him,makes him fall even more 💯💯

GAZ

- One time he Got injured and was sitting on the floor and then He saw you running towards him he simultaneously screamed in fear and how hard he got

- Likes to style your clothes, If he was off the military right now he really really likes fashion and if he sees you.. You can't fashion and he sees you wearing.. That, He's appalled, horrified, mortified I'm over exaggerating. But he is now in charge of your fashion now, But if you do know how to style you both will share tips with eachother. You can share different tips too ❤❤

- drags you in his barracks and strips you of your clothes except shorts.. And he's telling you this because he wants to "style" you.

- We both know damn well that's an excuse to get the boombayah freaky on.. He's just to shy to tell you upfront or he thinks it's fun to tease you like that before you get freaky

HORANGI

- gets freaky..

- Like he understands the women who get all giggly and nervous when they see a big man who can destroy them (ignore König 💔)

- is definitely not above thigh crushing, boob crushing, face sitting he'd do all at as long as it's you

- Like one time he pretended he broke his leg and won't let anyone else carry him until you came, acting all princessy and shit as you carry him bridal style to the medics

- He felt like a prince omg

- will definitely get on you and treat your real life size anime men boobs as a squishy toy

- How long is it and will he be able to take it??? Who knows he will find out!! Basically searched how long can someone's cock be if they are built like a god and is 7ft tall in Google

- someone gotta tell me Horangi's height and basic Google searching ain't doing it for me I'm too lazy to search for one line of a spicy headcanon line mb

MAKAROV

- You're basically ascary dog he owns

- You're tall and intimidating

- You can get information out of people quickly

- And he's not above telling you to torture anyone with a strength and body like yours

- most of the time you get the info done and folded

- Makarov uses you for intimidation and strength buuttt if you ever THINK of betraying him he already has a plan to get rid of someone like you

- Can and will turn you into one of those supersoldiers

- Will make you murder people right in front of him for entertainment and will rewward you!

- you know what reward it will be, Because when he asked what reward you wanted you got a bit to freaky you thought you be dead rn but nah he agreed actually he seems to enjoy it more than you do..

VELIKAN

- He's the dog in this one have you heard his voice?? Rough as hell imagine hearing him grunt

- Sounds cocky as hieeeellll too

- Would definitely like showing off to you since he wants to look cool in front of you

- Like you seen velikans skins?? Definitely wears the best ones to show you he can not only be a trained assassin But can also dress cool as hell

- If you compliment him it like makes his day, will not stop thinking about it

- Like a cool person complimenting a cool person like him? Ego boost (It's him feeling gay)

- This guys definitely a smoker (headcanon!!) Because voice sounds like he smoked 100 packs in 1 day and doesn't drink an ounce of water /jk I love him he's so hot.

- So if you want a smoke he purposely hides the lighter saying.. 'Oh no I asked someone elses lighter.. I don't have mine right now' or like 'my lighter ran out of fuel ohh

- So you have to put the cigarette in your mouth as you touch it with his cigarette to light ur own that type of trope 💫💫

- If you're not a smoker he will try his best to not smoke in front of you will use fresh mints to hide his breath of smoke

- after sex he will want a smoke, outside he goes or you both share the one cigarette

KEEGAN

- is it wrong to want to be choked by a big buff meaty arm?

- yknow the tiktok thing where girls put a ribbon on their boyfriends arm and the girls just put their face in the middle as their faces get squished??

- Yeah he wants that but gay

- will try to compare dick sizes even though yours is OBVIOUSLY the superior one!!

- Heads or tails on who's bottoming tonight

- Would like to be wrapped around your arms if you are hugging or sleeping keeps him warm

- Especially when it's snowing will force you to hug with him. ESPECIALLY when your in a mission and your in the tents he will definitely force you to hug it out with him

ROACH

- remember the other tall HC where the reader wasn't taller than König

- yes roach does the same thing here.. He's crawling on you like a tree

- If he wants a kiss instead of asking he crawls up to you and kisses you

- definitely likes to sit on your shoulders as you walk around, he feels tall like that

- this is like a distance relationship 💔💔

- Likes it when you bend over to talk to him also when you bend over when youre doing sum since it's slappable opportunity

- because bent over = double D cake will be slapped

- How will it fit? By the power of friendship of course!!

- probably more of say gex desperation but you get it

- Obviously switch switch

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 1: SOMEWHERE (FAR, FAR) EAST OF THE MOJAVE

synopsis: you wake up in some cabin, half-frozen to death. a man named arthur finds you and decides to have mercy on you, as do his associates.

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: if anyone wants me to start a taglist just lmk <3!! also there's a PROLOGUE before this, please read it before reading this :)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

It’s cold. Above everything else, it’s fucking cold. 

You screw your eyes shut tighter, curling in on yourself. You’re vaguely aware that you’re on your side and in a fetal position. 

There’s a light, faintly, somewhere behind you. You let out a hiss that tapers off into a groan and draw your arms over your head.

“Hey!” A voice shouts. It’s growly and abrasive-sounding. There’s the sound of a revolver’s hammer cocking. “Turn around. Face me.”

You prop your forearm on the floor and push yourself up with more effort than you think would be needed. You pant softly, and your breath mists in front of your mouth. You manage to hold yourself up with both hands on the floor and turn your head to look at the man. 

He’s tall in a way that makes him look down his nose at you. His silhouette is stark against the door – there’s snow outside. You don’t remember it to be… snowing. It’s May in southern California. It doesn’t snow in May in southern California.

The man looks you over, his revolver still pointed at you. His hand is unwavering.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t know why. “Is this your house?”

“No,” the man says simply. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I’m…” You look down at your hands, the way they’re braced against the floor. “I don’t know. I think…” 

Your arms shake, then collapse. Your jaw hits the floor with a dull thud, and your eyes screw shut on instinct.

“Shit,” the man drawls under his breath. 

“W-wait! Wait,” you say quickly. “I’m not on anything. I – I’m stone-cold sober. Like Steve Austin.”

You force a laugh and manage to open your eyes to look at the man. He looks confused – maybe a little disgusted? It’s hard to tell.

“Like, the wrestler?” You say. “Stone Cold Steve Austin?”

The man lowers his revolver, just a little, so that it’s not pointed at your head, but still in your general direction. It’s obvious he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, in any capacity. Maybe he won’t shoot you if he thinks you’re insane? (Or maybe that would just give him more of an incentive to kill you.)

“Just – just ignore me,” you say. (Again, you don’t know why. You don’t want to be ignored – you’re very obviously in bad shape.) “I don’t know where I am. I remember being in California, just north of Los Angeles.”

The man scoffs and checks over his shoulder, like he’s checking he’s not being duped. He looks back at you. “California? Really?”

“Yes,” you say softly. You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself the best you can with the way that you’re laying. “South. Right near Mexico – Tijuana.”

The man tilts his head and takes a half-step closer. “You’re bleedin’.”

“I am?” You manage to move your arm and see dried brown blood on your jacket laced with redder, fresher blood. “I am.”

“I just…” You shift, curling in on yourself further. Now that he’s pointed it out, you do feel some type of dull pain in your abdomen. “I’ll be okay. Don’t call for a doctor, or an ambulance. Please don’t call an ambulance. I – I’ll get to a hospital on my own.”

The man shifts on his feet. Was it always this cold? It’s… it’s so fucking cold. And no matter how much you curl in on yourself, there’s no warmth. 

The black returns. 

There’s snippets of conversations you can pick up on over the sound of feet shuffling and the sound of wind blowing outside. One woman gives a few demands to others, while another woman announces that “Davey’s dead.”

You can feel yourself being lifted and laid on something that’s hard against your back. You groan and try to open your eyes and sit up, but can’t. 

The voices grow quieter. There’s a man making some sort of speech – you can’t make out the words. 

You know you’re wavering in and out. There’s the warmth of a man’s hand on your shoulder, and a murmuring voice, still fading in and out: “I commend you… your Creator… who formed you from the dust… angels, and all the saints…”

It takes all your strength to lift your hand and grab him – some part of him. You can barely open your eyes and can’t make out a lot. “Not… dead yet. Fucking pr…preacher.”

Black again. There’s a repetitive, stinging pain in your side. 

Awake, again. Somehow. A woman, her face worn but still beautiful, hovers over you. Her wrinkles are stark in the lantern light. 

“Hello?” You say, your voice a bit slurred.

The woman turns and calls another woman over – this one much younger than her. “Miss Jackson, get Dutch. Let him know Arthur’s friend is awake.”

Miss Jackson turns and walks off with a “Yes, Miss Grimshaw.” 

“Arthur?” You interject. “Is that the man who found me?”

Miss Grimshaw turns back to you. “Yes, Arthur’s the one who found you. I don’t know why he didn’t shoot you.”

You wait for her to say something more. She doesn’t.

“Where am I?” You try. “I remember being in California, just outside of the Mojave. But the Mojave doesn’t get snow in May.”

“That’s because you’re not in the Mojave,” Miss Grimshaw says. “We’re in the Grizzlies.”

“Th…the Grizzlies?” You echo. “Like, Appalachia?”

“Somewhere in there, yes,” she says. “You been out a few days now. Reverend read you your last rites a handful of times.”

You try to sit up, but groan and lay back down. She pushes you down as well, a scowl on her face. 

The door opens with a gust of cold wind. A man steps in, then quickly shuts the door behind him. He hurries over, rubbing his gloved hands together. 

He looks you over, then drags a nearby chair over and sits. “What’s your name, friend?”

You give him your name. 

“My name is Dutch,” Dutch says. “Dutch van der Linde. I think you know by now that you’ve caught us at an… inconvenient time. And you’ll forgive us for not trusting you right away.”

“No, I get that,” you say. “I just… I need a map or something. I need to get back home.”

Dutch beckons for Miss Grimshaw to bring over a map. He opens it and holds it out to you. 

You sit up, slowly, making sure not to do anything too sudden. When you’re upright, you take the map from him and look it over. You don’t recognize anything on the map, but one point piques your interest – the date. The year reads 1891.

“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but…” You point to the year. “This map seems a little out of date.”

“It’s just eight years,” Miss Grimshaw says. “Most everything is the same.”

You glance up at her, then at Dutch, then at the people around the cabin. Your fingers twitch and crumple the map a bit. 

This is a dream! I’m in a coma! Your mind shouts. I’m in a medically-induced coma because I was shot and holy hell – how the fuck did I go from 2024 to 1899?!

“Right, right,” you say instead. “Sorry. I’m just being nitpicky.”

“Where’re you from?” Dutch asks. 

“California. Near the Mojave,” you say. “Out west.”

“And you would leave all that… virgin paradise…” Dutch laughs and gestures vaguely around him. “For this?”

“I don’t know how I got here,” you say. “I’ve been saying that since I woke up. I don’t…” You shake your head.

“Well, I’m sure we can get you back to your home,” Dutch says. “We’re persevering folk. Do you recognize anything – anything at all – on that map?”

You look down at the map again. It’s all unfamiliar. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, my friend,” Dutch says, reaching a hand out like it’s meant to soothe. “You’re a soul in need. I’m sure we can figure something out somehow. Can you at least tell me what your home is like?”

This is a coma, you remind yourself. I can just make something up. I’m not some person that couch-surfed for half my life. I can be whoever.

“I… it’s odd,” you say to buy yourself some time. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “There’s a few tribes that live in Zion Canyon – the Dead Horses and the Sorrows. I was a courier delivering goods to the Dead Horses. There were two men there that convinced me to stay.”

A Black man – broad, intimidating, with long, dark hair – perks up at the mention of tribes. His dark (almost black, honestly) eyes find yours, then he looks down at the floor again.

“None of it rings a bell,” Dutch says. “But, these men – what’re their names?”

It’s in that exact moment that you realize you just prattled off part of the storyline of Fallout: New Vegas. Then you realize that, if this really is 1899, no one here would know what you’re talking about. 

“Joshua Graham and Daniel,” you say. “They’re white – they work with the natives and help them trade. Joshua’s acting as the Dead Horses’ war chief and Daniel is a healer that works with the Sorrows.”

Yes. You’re totally friends with Joshua Graham and Daniel and the Dead Horses and the Sorrows. And from the way Dutch nods solemnly, you think he believes you. 

You hold out the map and he takes it back, folding it neatly. 

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” you say. “I’ve never even been this far east before.”

“Don’t worry,” Dutch says. “You can stay with us, for the time being. At least until we get to some… some town, or city. Let you rest your feet while you recover. We’re a gang of… violent criminals and degenerates, but we care. I can’t say the same for the rest of America.”

Your hand instinctively goes to your side, where you felt the stinging, repetitive pain earlier. “Right. My side doesn’t feel as bad as before. Thank you for that.”

You look around and slowly swing your feet over the side of the table. A lightning arc of pain shoots down your leg, causing you to gasp and tense. As with everything else, you force through it and stand. 

“I need to get some air,” you say. Dutch just nods. You walk (shamble, really) to the door and open it, slipping outside.

The cold is even worse out here. There’s footpaths in the snow. You stick your hands under your arms and walk one. It leads to a man standing by a fire in front of a cabin, dressed in a winter poncho with a gun in his hands. 

You hold your hands out towards the fire and rub your hands together. It doesn’t replace the warmth you had while you were inside, but it’s still something.

“What’s your name?” The man asks. He shifts the rifle in his hands, but doesn’t move to point it at you. (An improvement, if a small one.)

You give him your name. “What about you?”

“Javier,” Javier says. “Javier Escuella.”

“Where are you from?” You shift your focus to the fire. “Not trying to be rude. It’s just that there’s a few ‘Javier’s where I’m from.”

“Northern Mexico,” Javier says. “You?”

“I’m originally from the South, but I live in the Mojave. I moved to the Frontier to be closer to my sister,” you say. “So I guess we weren’t that far off from each other.”

You look up at the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow. It’s the man from way earlier – Arthur. You look back at the fire instead.

Arthur nods at Javier and spares a glance at you before entering the cabin. People are talking inside, and you catch a snippet of voices before Arthur closes the door again.

“It’s too cold to be May,” Javier says. You can tell he’s trying to be polite by making conversation. “I’m not designed for this snow.”

“I know, right?” You laugh under your breath. “Neither am I. I’d go back inside, but I don’t want to intrude. Any more than I already have, anyway.”

“It’s below freezing,” he says. “Everyone needs shelter. Come on.”

With that, Javier turns and walks into the cabin, holding the door open behind him for you. You thank him and follow him inside. 

Inside is a group of men and the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke. You tense when they all turn to face you. Most of them are, in fact, smoking. You nod politely and tuck yourself into a corner, next to a man with a blond mustache. 

A hefty man is sitting across from the blond man, and a much younger Black man is sitting on a table next to him. Javier is by the door, and you try your best to ignore Arthur’s huge presence beside you. You can see him throw a small log into the woodstove out of the corner of your eye.

The man sort-of across from you looks at you, then returns his gaze to the man sitting beside you. “I guess folks miss them… that fell.”

“Well, when I fall, I don’t want no fuss,” the man beside you says.

“When you fall…” The young man waves his hand, which is holding a lit cigarette. “There’ll be a party.”

“A party!” The hefty man echoes, laughing. “Hah, probably.”

You feel the beginnings of a smile start to cross your face. You don’t know these people, and while they aren’t exactly doing their best to welcome you, they aren’t exactly making you feel unwelcome, either.

The man beside you holds out a bottle to you. You hesitantly take it, even though you’re confused. “I don’t want this.”

He pays you no mind and stands, looking down at the man. “That funny, huh?”

“Sure,” the man says, the remnants of laughter still in his voice.

One man strikes another, and it’s loud, absolute chaos. On instinct, your eyes snap to the door. Unblocked. An exit if needed.

Arthur and the young man are holding the hit man back, and the blond man speaks. “Maybe  I don’t feel like being laughed at by the likes of you two!”

It’s going to escalate. You can get to the door. Dutch was right – this is a gang of violent criminals and degenerates. One you want nothing to do with.

But Dutch bursts in with a gust of cold wind. As soon as he sees what’s going on, his face twists. The men dissipate from their tight proximity and distance themselves from each other.

“Stop it!” He snaps. “You fools punching each other when Colm O’Driscoll’s needin’ punching – hard! You wanna sit around, waiting for him to come find us?”

Arthur slips out of the door as Dutch continues. “All of you, we got work to do. Come on.”

The men turn and start to file out of the cabin. You can hear Arthur and Dutch talking outside. By the time you’re outside, most of the men are over by the horses or on one of them.

Dutch is talking quietly to Arthur while they’re both mounting up – you couldn’t hear them if you tried. He straightens up on his snow-white horse and shouts. “Mister Matthews, Mister Smith, Mister Pearson, would you please look after the place? There are O’Driscolls about!”

With that, he snaps the reins and his horse darts off. The rest of the men from the cabin, now all on horseback, quickly follow. 

You resign yourself to following another footpath. This one leads to a partly-sheltered, partly-dilapidated garage-type-thing with something like a kitchen inside. There’s a deer hoist against the wall, but it’s empty.

Your eyes dart to some sort of cauldron-looking pot hanging over a fire that’s mostly coals. You walk over and hold your hands out to it, trying to get warm again. 

“You’re new.”

Your head snaps up to see the broad Black man from earlier. He still has that impassive look on his face. 

“Yes, sir, that’s right,” you say. You introduce yourself. “What’s your name?”

“Charles Smith.” Charles walks and stands beside you, mirroring you and putting his hands out towards the fire. “You were talking earlier about tribes.”

“Yeah,” you say. “What about them?”

“I’ve never heard of the ones you were talking about,” he says. His voice is deep and smooth and calm. (You try your best not to latch onto that sense of calmness. You now know how quickly things can turn.)

“The Sorrows and the Dead Horses?” You rub your nose as you try to think of an excuse. “I wouldn’t expect you to. They live in Zion Canyon – in the Mojave. They’re fairly isolated, but they’re good people.”

Charles hums and his eyes return to the fire. You try to think of something to keep the conversation going.

“Who’s Colm O’Driscoll?” You ask. “I’ve heard his name a handful of times.”

“A rival gang leader,” he says. “Runs the O’Driscolls.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You scratch your cheek. “That makes sense.”

A silence settles over the two of you again. Charles must be comfortable with it. Unfortunately, you’re not. 

“Is there anything people need done?” You ask, glancing at him. “I don’t like being idle for too long.”

He looks over at the empty deer hoist. “We need food.”

“I’m no good at hunting.” You look at the fire and rub your hands together again. “Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” Charles says. His eyes flick to you. “You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

You bite back another apology and force a laugh. Your breath mists in front of your face. “Force of habit.”

Charles hums and his focus returns to the smoldering coals that make up the fire. A nagging thought in the back of your head tells you that you made him mad (even though he’s given literally no indication you’ve done so). 

You follow his lead and look at the fire. There’s nothing else to do in this kind of cold, anyway. 

[macravishedbymactavish]

Riptide (TF141 x M!Reader)

TW: Swearing, typical COD violence/themes, likely military inaccuracies

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Chapter 01

(This was initially chapter 2, until I decided to make a prolouge)

Heart hammering in your chest and ears, you sat helplessly as the video played. Multiple hostages, but you were honed in on one.

The boy who was crying and screaming for his daddy to save him.

Screaming for you to save him.

Forcing yourself to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay, you lost yourself in the memory of the last time you saw your boy.

The day you left for this deployment.

--

"Do you really have to go?" Your son whined into your shirt, pressing his small face against the warm fabric. Taking in the comfort it provided as his tears freely fell.

You loved your job, your teammates, and above all else making the world a better place for your mini monster. The smallest and only love of your life.

Holding back tears yourself, you rubbed his small back. Keeping him held close your body as you started the goodbye process.

The part of the job you despised.

"I know bug, but I'll be back before you know it" you whispered, silently cursing your voice for breaking. "You promise to have some drawings and stories at the ready for when I come home?" A small nod, face still pressed into your abdomen.

"Yes daddy." He only called you this when he was sick or you were facing another deployment. "We can put them on the fridge when you get home?" You saw your own eyes staring up at you, filled with excitement that was coated by tears.

"Of course! Pinky promise" you felt his small finger slot into yours, as his sobs slowly became hiccups, then small giggles as he planned his stay with Aunt Kate and Aunt Nat.

The only person related to your employment who knew of this perfect little human being. The only person who knows just how much is at stake everytime your boots hit the ground.

"They said I can bake next time I'm over. Do you think I'll be allowed to?" You smiled widely, listening to your sons hopeful plans for the next month or so while you were away.

--

"Thank you again, both of you" this was about the 15th time you've thanked the duo today for taking in your son.

"Stop thanking us, you two are family. We're happy to have him" Nat gave you a smile, watching as the little boy followed Kate into their shared home.

You had known Kate for most of your military career, you met Nat shortly after. The two becoming an irreplaceable piece of your life, being present for almost all the major events. The latest being the birth of your son, and your recruitment into Task Force 141. You always said Kate's connections helped you along in this aspect; she argued that your work spoke for itself.

"Have you thought about telling John? I'm sure he would love to meet his adoptive grandson." Nat asked, pulling you from your thoughts. It was an innocent question. To anyone on the outside looking in on your situation; it would make perfect sense to tell your team. For yourself and Kate, the reasons against mentioning him were glaringly obvious.

The more people know about him, the more likely he'll be used against me.

The walls have ears, anyone could overhear that information.

Heart stays at home, mind stays at work. No overlap.

"Maybe one day" you shrugged, giving her a small smile. "Too risky right now". She gave you a knowing look, likely the same look her wife recieved.

It will always be too risky. Live your life while you can.

You couldn't deny that it did hurt, keeping the best part of your life a secret from the family you found within your team. The guys would love their "adoptive nephew/grandson", almost as much as he would love to meet the men he hears countless stories about.

"So you're saying Uncle Gaz hung upside down like spiderman? From a helicopter?! He's so cool!!"

"Do you think Uncle Ghost would help me make a cool mask for Halloween? I want to be scary while trick or treating this year"

"Grandpa Price and Aunt Kate are best friends. Aunt Nat told me so"

"Why can't Uncle Soap help clean my room? He's good at cleaning, I'm not" You weren't entirely sure where he got this tidbit of information from. You just hoped it was based off the concept and not the real story behind the codename.

As much as it hurt to know your son may never meet the men he views as heroes; his safety comes first. Above all else.

"There will come a time when it feels right, and you're ready. Whenever that time is you know the guys will be in love with him" Kate chuckled from behind you.

--

"Hey man, you good?" You heard Gaz whisper from beside you. Noticing your obvious change in demeanor.

The video had finished, and now one of your superiors explained that there was no plan for extraction at this time -- not enough intel to make such a risky play against the enemy.

"I'm fine. Thanks for checking in" you deadpanned, brain working to formulate your own plan to save your son and the other hostages.

Working so hard in fact, that you missed the concerned looks shared between your team. As Kate pulled Price aside.

"There's a high value individual amongst the hostages. I'm not saying to break the rules, but if there's any your team can bend to get this ball rolling" she whispered, fingers running through her hair.

He was at daycare, Nat drops him off every Tuesday through Friday when she's working. She's done this for the past 2 years. He's always been safe so far. Why was this time different?

"High value individual and a bloody kid! Poor thing can't be older than 5" Price growled, furious at the fact that children were now getting involved in an adult problem.

4 actually. He's only 4

Kate thought, glancing over at you. Still staring straight ahead, with the light drained from your eyes. Now replaced with fury and pain.

Taglist: @thatonesimpyknow @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

KorTac members are WHORES, you’re only safe because you’re Colonel’s favorite.

You never talk, always have your mask on and the clothes and gear you have to wear daily doesn’t give too much information about what you could be. Male? Female? Only you know, and only you’ll decide when and how you’ll tell others (at least that’s what you thought).

When women from the base hit on you, hugging, tugging on your arms, pressing their tits all over you, you definitely get flustered, but you don’t know how to break it to them, that you’re actually a female and pretty much enjoy yourself every night by watching big muscled men jerking off on the unholy sites, with their hairy torsos and their angry looking cocks.

One day, some rookies (too fed up with your mysteriousness) drag you to the communal showers, laughing and calling you out on never joining them for one. Making silly jokes as ‘you’re afraid of us or our dicks?’ ‘What’s it big boy? Your cocks too big to grant us the pleasure of its presence in the same room as us?’ Or ‘no I bet it’s actually small, he just doesn’t want us to see it!’ Or ‘guys leave him alone, you’re gonna get in trouble with colonel’

As you are being dragged, you arrive inside the showers, everything is on display and you know it, there’s no curtains, no privacy, of course, that’s why you shower always at night and ALONE. But when you’re thrown inside and all you can see are huge junks, wet muscles, tensed abs and men moaning, you truly understand how much you actually fucked up for wanting to cover up your identity so bad and leaving people just assume your gender.

Your colonel suddenly facing your way with his hard dick pointed directly at you it’s not making it easier for you. But the rookies starting to trash you around, throwing you from ones arms to another, while starting to jokingly remove your clothes it’s not of help either.

Hlep I have some big ideas w this one c:

I just wanna say that the rookies will definitely not be playing with us in that sense, and this will probably be a KorTac x some other members probably from taskforce141. Probably an orgy thingie or idk, still have to decide.

Under here a poll with the characters I have in mind, just vote and the most rated ones are getting it. I thing of making it with at least 5 men x reader :3

[6rookie-writer0110]

Male Reader X Top Rhea Ripley G!P Pt. 2 -

Reader, at his house, is masturbating in his bed; thinking about about the shower sex he and Rhea had in locker room the other night. He then receives a text from Rhea saying:

"hey sexy come over to my house for another round of "fun time" (Rhea also sending a picture of herself sticking tongue out and grabbing her dick print).

At Rhea's house, she lets him in and then goes to the bathroom. When rhea comes out, reader surprises her by changing and wearing nothing but one of the "you're my mami" shirts and her wwe belt. Rhea smiles as she likes the surprise. She then carries reader upstairs to the bedroom, placing one arm around his lower back and other in the crook of his left knee while reader's arms are around her shoulders and the legs around her waist. Entering the bedroom, rhea laid reader down and then said "round two baby". Both taking everything off, Reader decides to go first while rhea takes control for the rest of night.

The sweaty rough sex will be in different positions for example: reader rimming rhea, grabs her hips and doggystyles Rhea, while giving her a handjob. Later on, rhea takes over to show who's the real dominant top. Like, she does anal fucks reader while grabbing his face. Later, she fucks him in a spooning position while choking reader with her bicep. Finally, she puts reader in the riptide pin position and fucks him while holding his legs. Smut also including: face-fucking (rhea controlling reader), body worshiping, daddy dominant kink (as rhea would like reader to call her either mami & papi); ass spankings/grabbings; dirty talks, breeding kink; oral sex (reader receiving); rimming; standing 69 position (Rhea holding reader as she rims him and he upside down blows her), multiple orgasms

After sex, rhea (not bother wearing clothes) gets up to get a drink downstairs and then comes back, takes a picture of her & reader (whose laying on his stomach too sore to move) on her phone, saying "second round complete" laughing then grab n' smack his cheek. Next, both of them go to bed with reader resting on rhea's stomach. In the morning, reader limps to the bathroom and Rhea teases him about it, then y/n asking her to join him the bathtub, which she agrees, even giving him a bathtub handjob. Afterwards, since reader's clothes/shoes got ruined by her pet dog, rhea gives him new clothes: her tank top, dark ripped jeans, and her boots. Even letting reader keep the "mami" shirt.

sorry if i wrote too much.

It's fine. But wow 😮👍👍👍

[marquiswrites]

Riptide Master List

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Social Media AU

Summary: The band is back together, But things can never go back to the way that they were. Tension is still thick between the Avengers after the events of Civil War, but the hope is that a few fresh faces might calm the waters.

Warnings: Language

Inspired by: @sunmoonandbucky @geosaurusrrex @sugarfreecapsicle And special thanks to  @imaginingbucky @daffodilsbucky​ For helping me talk through things <3

Twitter Accounts 

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[capslocked]

VANITY

male reader x kim chaewon

5k words

"Quarter to six?"

"Quarter to six."

"Quarter to six?" you ask one more time checking your watch, praying for a different answer.

She repeats herself with stern punctuation, "Quarter to six."

You hazard the obvious question, "I thought you said check-in was at seven?"

"I also said we’re meeting everyone for drinks at a quarter to six. You should listen to me more often."

"Well. Shit." You swing yourself about the door frame of the bathroom, your dress socks on the wood floor like skates on an ice rink. "Then we probably need to get ourselves—"

Your eyes immediately find Chaewon’s reflection in the mirror, astonishing, mesmerizing, confounding.

"Whoa." You have no idea if the word actually spills out of your mouth or the airy sound it makes is audible only in your thoughts.

A shy smile dimples her cheeks, pretending it doesn’t notice the obvious leer on your face. "How do I look?"

Gorgeous. Ravishing. Fuckable.

You swallow that candor back down somewhere into your throat before it might otherwise escape you, completely unrestrained.

"You look—incredible." The word sticks to the roof of your mouth as you dart your attention up and down the tiny cocktail dress that barely even constitutes clothing. Its black fabric hugs the contour of her figure so tightly it leaves little to the imagination, but even then you can’t stop imagining all the ways you might rid her of it.

Admittedly, perhaps shamefully, you didn’t think much of Chaewon the first time you met her. Just another pretty girl that would get up on stage to sing and dance—big deal. However, something wouldn’t let you leave it alone. Not only were you wrong, she made damn sure you were sorry for it. You’d found her obstinate, a tad selfish, and more than anything, entirely irresistible.

Before your brain can chide your hands, you saunter forward and wrap yourself around her hips.

"You’re late ya know."

"I wonder why that might be," you say, pressing your lips into her bare shoulder. Your nose tickles the bottoms of her primly cut hair and you breathe in deep. The muddled mix of her shampoo, perfume and the perfect smell that is simply her—it makes a flutter rise in your chest as you let the breath roll off your shoulders.

"You certainly weren’t putting up much of a protest."

"Didn’t realize I had been given a choice."

She smirks, the playful warmth in her eyes holding your reflection with ease. "That’s because you weren’t."

Chaewon pulls your hands forward, folding them gently atop her stomach, the thin material of her dress letting you feel the tightness of those muscles above her waist.

Grabbing a makeup brush off the counter, she delicately applies the finishing touches on a canvas of smooth, porcelain skin, the masterwork of an artist, stretching out along the meticulously drawn lines that define her figure. Your eyes on her and it fast becomes a grand heist of stolen glances; the perfect cut of silky hair resting at her jaw, sculpted eyebrows, sweeping lashes, those perfect lips—the true injustice being that she was so much more than simply the sum of her parts.

You blink your way out of the riptide of brown and gold in Chaewon’s eyes. "Should probably call your friends and let them know we’re running behind schedule."

"Why can’t you?" she asks, "I gave you Minju’s number didn’t I?"

"Well, I mean, they’re not my friends."

Her reflection shoots an eyebrow up somewhere behind those jet black bangs. "Since when are you worried about first impressions?"

"I dunno Chae—you tell me—are they the kind of people to judge a book by its cover?"

"As if there’s anything in those pages of yours worth reading."

Lowering your head, you whisper gently into her ear, "didn’t stop you from paging through them earlier today. Twice."

"Please," she pleads, sparing you a pitiful laugh and slapping playfully at your hands.

Chaewon turns herself in your arms, pulling the hem of that less-than-modest cocktail dress again over the curve of her rear—a battle she’d doubtlessly wage against the fickle garment all evening, one you can’t imagine you’ll ever tire of watching. Hell, you’re not even sure who you’re rooting for.

You watch her eyes widen, glistening, as she reaches her hand up along the edge of your jaw, feeling your smooth, fresh shaven face between her fingers. "You clean up surprisingly nice ya know."

You cock an eyebrow. "Surprisingly?"

Finding a bounce in her feet, Chaewon lifts herself out of her heels. No more than an inch or two, failing to arrive where she wants to be, she repeats the motion several times—her blatantly conspicuous method of demanding you reach down and kiss her.

"Chae… Is there something I can do for you?" you ask, a grin betraying your attempt to play dumb.

"You ass. Come here." A small huff billowing out of her chest, she teases her fingers at the smooth skin on your neck. "Let me at least get a kiss before this becomes all stubbly—otherwise I imagine I’ll have better luck making out with sandpaper."

Before you even get the chance to sink your shoulders, she wraps her fingers around the bottom of your tie, and with a twist and a tug she pulls you into her.

A kiss, sweet but efficient, lingers between you no longer than is prudent. The next, short and inquisitive, is like a second serving of ice cream—inadvisable. For a brief moment, you hold each other with your eyes, able to communicate far more than either of you could ever say. And the third, foolish as it is inviting, finds the last of your inhibition wanting.

You let yourself sink into her, the taste on her lips warming, welcoming, tempting. The spaces between your kisses fill no longer with shy smiles and bated breath, but with profound longing, crashing again in emboldening familiarity.

Your fingers dip dangerously at the hem of Chaewon’s dress, the boundary where smooth skin meets impossibly thin fabric—a playground of reckless decisions. Opposite of you, in no less good judgment, she slides her hands up your chest, quietly lifting your jacket up off your shoulders and finding room for it on the countertop beside you.

Your lips stretch into a coy smirk against hers. "What are you doing?"

Chaewon opens her eyes, mischief smoking from beneath her long lashes, and her voice lilts, "nothing."

She holds her gaze with you, her eyes smoldering with the same playfulness that paints the subtle smirk stretching across her face. She maintains her composure, delicately sweeping her bangs back perfectly into place with one hand, as though she weren’t prying her fingers into the buckle of your belt with the other.

"That’s a whole lot of nothing for someone who was—seconds ago mind you—on my case to hurry up."

"And you’re talking a lot for someone I can feel already getting hard through his pants."

You dig your fingers into the roundness of her ass, pulling her body flush against yours. "I thought you said we were meeting everyone for drinks at six?"

"And I also said check in was at seven," she says, snapping the belt away from your hips.

"You’re insatiable."

"Well, you’re the one who decided to kiss me."

Your eyebrows twist skeptically. "I don’t think that’s how I would describe it."

Her eyes run across the features of your face, resting on the glances she so loved to steal—finding herself contemplating how best she might put your lips to good use. Chin lifted, her voice opens again, "Are you calling me a liar?"

"Perhaps." A flat chuckle breaks your response. "Among other things."

Your hands wander from her waist, up the slender contour of her narrow frame, and you find the shoulder straps of her dress. Rolling them between your fingertips proves them to be as delicate and dainty as they look, easy to sweep off her shoulders with hardly even a simple push.

"Go on then. Let’s get it all out of your system." She unbuttons the front of your pants, sending them to a heap collapsed around your ankles. "What else?"

You think for barely a moment, chirping the first thing that comes to your head. "You’re self-centered."

She pinches the inside of your waistband with her fingertips, pulling it as far as the poor garment will allow before releasing it with a loud thwap. "Uh-huh."

"Spoiled rotten."

"Now that seems a little cold," she says, her voice feigning a despondent tone.

You pull the straps of her dress over her shoulders, letting them fall helplessly down the bare skin on her arms. "And you’re a bit of a brat."

Chaewon’s knuckles fight the tightness of your shorts as she slides her hand to meet the bulge stirring beneath them. She watches closely at the quick breath you draw through tucked lips as she lets her fingers find their favorite spots along your length.

You should be better at this game you play—it’s only the thousandth time you’ve played it. And the score hasn’t been worth keeping for a long time. Maybe somewhere along the way you could’ve picked up a trick or two, but Chaewon is always a step ahead of you, untouchable.

"And still—" Chin lifted, she taps her finger against her lips, her grip beneath the waistband of your shorts tightening. "You want to fuck me so bad."

If she didn’t know it then, she knows it now: somewhere inside you, a red light turns green. You see Chaewon’s mouth opening again, another taunt ready to launch from it, but you steal from her the opportunity, your hand reaching at the nape of her neck, tilting it back—you capture her tender lips again between yours.

Your hands under her arms, you lift her up onto the counter and her legs wrap themselves around you, the edge of her helpless dress rolling up along her thighs until it springs up around her stomach. Her kisses drag along your cheek until you can hear the heat of her breath in your ear.

"What was it you called me? Insatiable?" She works her hand still beneath the tight confines of your shorts as best as they might allow, varying the strength of her fingers’ grip around you—not to mention the unyielding touch of her palm—she rouses your cock fast against its confines. A haughty laugh precedes her. "When you’re this fucking hard?"

"Oh please. Pot, meet kettle." Dragging a finger tip up across the warmth of her entrance, sampling the damp fabric daring to hide it from you still, you listen to her suck a sharp breath past her teeth. 

Mimicking the smug tone of Chaewon’s voice just now, you taunt, "Chae, it lacks a lot of bite when you’re this fucking wet."

You pull the top of her dress down past her chest, two perfect handfuls of soft breasts jumping out over it, two tempting dark buds begging for your lips, your tongue, your teeth. Your nose runs the length of the cleavage gathered in your hands, before again finding her kiss. Once politely, and again expectantly, you pass your tongue against the swell of her lips until finally she lets you in.

"Mmph…" Her muscles jump as you slip your hand again between her thighs, your fingernails ever so barely making contact with gray fabric underneath them. Acquainting themselves quickly to their hot surroundings, your fingertips discover the touches that always make Chaewon weak.

"Twice just wasn’t—enough for you today was it?—you poor thing," you slip forward in the labored breaths between your kisses.

"If we’re keeping count." She bites onto your lip and her hands slide up your chest, looking for something to moor herself to as you press hard against her aching hole, a quiver jolting through her hips. "You only—came in me once."

"I don’t know Chae," you tease, forcing your way past the elastic band around her waist, drawing a gasp from Chaewon’s throat as you dip fingers past the wet warmth you discover. "Weren’t you going on and on about how upset Minju and Yena might be if we’re late?"

“Oh—” She squirms at the pad of your thumb, callously brushing her own wetness over and around her swollen bud. "Screw Minju. Screw Yena. And screw you."

"Well if that’s the case—suppose I could go all by myself." You begin to lean yourself away from her when she reaches for your wrist.

"Do not," she whispers, finding you again with her eyes, now lit so clearly ablaze with want and need.

Her chest jumps at the pleasure you bring, rubbing circles against her freshly shaved mound, and she can’t control the shy smile forming at the corners of her mouth as you drag and tug at the lips of her pussy on each revolving pass. One finger slips inside her warmth, squeezing past her tight entrance. She closes her eyes and tucks her chin to her chest, slowly drawing a purposeful breath in through her nose.

Her hands clutch greedily onto the fabric of your shirt, as you continue to explore the warmth of her hole, teasing at the spots you’ve long learned to recognize, the ones that could make her sing.

“So.” Rubbing and caressing the warm walls around it, your finger makes way for a second, Chaewon shuddering at the sudden inclusion. "You want to cum on my fingers? Or my tongue?"

"Don’t tease me." Her fingers grip tightly around the shape you imprint against your underwear and her brow furrows. "I want this."

There’s a part of you that wants to refuse her, especially when she dons that pouting look, eyes blazing and scowling—you’re convinced she’d trademarked it—but you’ve been trying your best to persuade your thoughts to think of anything other than pinning her to the wall since you caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror. There was no chance.

You feel Chaewon clench around you as you slowly drag your fingers out of her pussy, your fingers coated still in her warm wetness. A step back and the two of you let your eyes communicate to each other exactly what it is you need. Two sets of underwear sliding down off your legs, you both gaze upon temptation, upon the only thing that might release you from it.

Your fingers still wet with the fruits of her excitement, you pump them liberally around your cock, lathering a slippery sheen from hilt to head. Chaewon’s eyes still fix closely on you, like an architect reading a set of blueprints, or a musician a new piece of sheet music, she studies you, undoubtedly taking meticulous notes. Even with the experience she’d built, entanglement after entanglement, seducing orgasm after orgasm out of you, she always had a hunger for more.

Coaxing her forward on the counter, she raises her hips and hangs her ass just over the edge of it, supporting herself on the hands she plants onto the counter behind her. Chaewon whines as you rub the tip of your cock between the lips of her pussy, gathering more of the wetness that glistens and shines around the warmth radiating just beneath its beautiful folds.

You shuffle your feet, adjusting your height to hers. "Ready?"

She hooks herself off the back of your neck, lip curling between her teeth, and for the first time in a while, Chaewon has no cute response, no quip to needle. She simply nods her head.

"Fuck," she hisses, her face wincing as you push yourself into her warm embrace. The further and further you fill her, the more you can feel her stretch to receive you. You hang your head a moment on her shoulder, overwhelmed by the heat, the depth, the tightness that is Chaewon around you. It doesn’t matter how many times you’d buried yourself inside her, it always rearranges your thoughts, makes it difficult to speak.

"Chae—god—you’re tight."

Your hips are second to move, Chaewon quickly lifting hers against you, desperately searching for the friction they now so desperately crave. She punches her breath into your ear, teasing again, "C’mon now. It’s not your first time—don’t just stand there."

A groan leaks from your chest, your cock carefully moving itself again past her entrance. You struggle with the tie around your neck, and Chaewon gathers the cue to start working at the buttons down your shirt, freeing you of everything save a pair of dress socks you hope she wouldn’t look down to notice. Though luckily she’s more interested in your lips—reaching her hands into your hair and seizing you into a kiss of her own. You can feel the vibration of each quiet moan that escapes her lungs rattle off your teeth as your slow thrusts find a momentary rest, deep in the heat of her aching cunt.

You cup Chaewon’s breasts between your fingers, squeezing the soft malleable skin a tad harder than you should, and a strained yelp spills through the seal of your kiss. The sound only persuades you to find her swollen nipples, rolling and gently twisting the sensitive flesh between your fingertips. You drink in the sounds of her reactions, wincing and gasping, working her between your hands.

Slowly, on account of the way Chaewon manages to suck you in, you find yourself moving faster, hitting deeper, the connection between your lips struggling to meet your rhythm. Chaewon’s legs reach around you, pulling you further into her at the end of each thrust, wrapping and gripping your cock with a perfect warmth. It’s your turn to roll your lip past your teeth, biting down to find a momentary release as the feeling of Chaewon’s tight body becomes foolishly enjoyable. You stammer, "You feel so fucking good Chae."

She closes her eyes tight. "Yeah—you’re—making me—so—wet."

Heavy breaths slice the words coming from Chaewon’s mouths into fragments, each rising and falling with the motion of your hips crashing against hers. "Your cock—it feels so—amazing."

Reaching forward, you find the soft skin beneath Chaewon’s jaw with your lips. The way she looks, the way she feels, the way she sounds—your thoughts are filled with her. A taste of salt from the first few beads of sweat enters your mouth, and there’s little left you can do to possibly escape her.

"Fucking—," Chaewon groans, her fingers digging into your back, "I need it faster—harder."

You pull yourself off her, untangling her arms and legs from your back and in one swift motion, gathering her ankles together over your shoulder. The toes of her shoes click against one another as you position her where you want her, where you need her. The weight of her round thighs pressed into one another—the slick walls around you—you feel it almost pushing you out of her warmth completely. But you dig in on your heels, pushing yourself into her and relishing the unreal tightness that you bury yourself in, again and again.

The sounds off her lips, they drive you mad. The look on her face, it drives you mad. The grip she has on your throbbing cock, it drives you mad. But its her eyes—filled now with urgency and need—lustful eyes that drink in the image of you fucking her, trusting eyes that look to you provide everything she could ever desire, gentle eyes that hold you tender yet, they effortlessly set your heart aflame.

No longer committed to words, having found the adjusted angle, the new depth, the novel sensation of your cock burying itself into her, she simply lets out a long, seedy moan, one that starts on the lofted pitch of a particularly lustful note, and ends panting miserably beneath her breath.

"Chae," You groan, teeth gritting as you slam your hips into the soft cushioning of her thighs, "you feel incredible."

"Faster." The word barely makes it over the out-of-breath puffs of dry air that heave off her chest. "Please—I need more."

You give her more. And then some. There’s little you can hear beyond the sound of your own thighs slapping wet skin against hers. Each time you bury yourself into her, you can hear the blood rush to your head, spinning and twisting your thoughts about and flushing back down as you pull yourself out along the slippery walls of her pulsing cunt. You hug tighter at the legs across your chest, gripping Chaewon’s delicate body and racking it beneath you—her moans grow louder, more intense, more needy.

Again her voice rasps, "faster."

Always is everything on her terms. It doesn’t quite make you angry, but you’d be lying through your teeth if you said she didn’t often frustrate you. You slow yourself at the end of a long stroke, dragging your throbbing length slowly out of her pussy and wiping sweat from your brow. "Hop down."

Exasperated, she complains, "What the hell are you—"

"Hop down."

Chaewon’s eyebrows twist in confusion, and she whines as you pull yourself from her grip completely. Her feet land on the floor and a huff of hot air shoots from her chest. Just because she’s a handful doesn’t mean you can’t steer her with a commanding voice, the sternest you can muster—a commodity increasingly in demand.

"Now turn around."

With a slight hesitation, and her gaze lingering in yours, she shuffles and faces the mirror. You press yourself behind her, your slick shaft welcomed by two gentle curves of her ass. She’s caught in your reflection, just as you are in hers. You watch closely how her lips purse and her eyes shut tight the moment you take her breasts in your hands. "Do you want me to make you cum?"

A quiet voice, subdued and meek, splits the silence, "yes."

You lean forward, lips hovering against her ear. "Grab the sink."

For once, Chaewon does as she is told, her fingers curling over the top of the chic white bowl beneath the mirror. The hourglass of her figure presenting itself perfectly at your waist, you grab a hold of hers, the bunched fabric of her dress filling your hand.

You dip your finger into her folds, quivering in exactly the messy state you’d left them. "Tell me exactly what I should do."

She raises her face between her shoulders, eyes practically glaring at you through the mirror. "Fuck me."

The tip of your cock against her, you tease the lips around her entrance, the obvious look of need filling in Chaewon’s expression."Aw—Chae—we both know you can give better directions than that."

Begrudgingly, desperately, she plays along. "I want you—I need you—to fuck me until I—"

You watch her mouth gape and her eyes widen as you drive into her. Burying yourself in the inviting, stretching, grips of her pussy, your hips land flush against the soft tender skin of her ass. It's an angle that hits deep, Chaewon still struggling to vocalize the words failing to leave her tongue, but as you thrust yourself into her again, the look of shock becomes one of pure euphoria.

You can feel a specific fatigue, one that arrives with three sessions—Chaewon’s appetite voracious—in a little under twelve hours, but any weary thoughts you harbor are galvanized by the image of Chaewon’s toned, tight, athletic body, folded against your waist, writhing in the pleasure only you could bring. Finding again a tumultuous rhythm, you fuck the girl in your hands with reckless abandon.

"How does that feel Chae?" Tightening your grip on the fabric of her dress, you pull her back into each of your thrusts, her ass receiving your hips and ringing with a strident slap.

"So hard—so deep," she gasps, her voice trailing off into an urgent cry, "so—fucking—amazing!"

The prim cut of jet black hair that rests on her shoulders had become disheveled and unruly, a rare sight. Her face twists and contorts deliciously in front of you as she watches attentively at the way you fuck her.

"God—God—God, fuuuuck!" she cries, rolling her hips back and rocking opposite your thrusts. Yearning, pleading, she needs you and your cock bad. Sinking her face between her shoulders, she slides forward onto the counter. "There. There. There. There!"

You can see only one hand, knuckles clenched, grip helplessly at the sink, while the other steals away between her thighs, rubbing and caressing at the hot mess between them. There was never an enough for Chaewon—always needing more attention, love, pleasure—little was ever sufficient.

The dress around her waist, bundled and clutched in your hands makes the perfect rein, and you pull back on its makeshift strap, bringing Chaewon’s shoulders nearly flat against yours. Taking in the image first on the mirror, your flushed faces inches apart, gasping for breath, you bend and kiss at the skin that draws her neck from her shoulder.

"Fuck—fuck—fuck—fuck!" The cries of pleasure keep you locked into a dangerous cadence, slamming your hips into her, filling her with your throbbing shaft. She mewls, she moans, and you reach a hand against her breasts, pressing together soft skin—an outlet for your pleasure and a conduit for hers. "You’re gonna—I’m—fuck!"

You whisper into her ear, catching a nipple between your fingers, twisting, teasing, tormenting. "Cum on this cock Chaewon—cum however you like."

Her voice is hoarse, but still she begs, "Tell me—tell me how you like fucking me."

"Chae," you strain against gritted teeth, "I fucking love it."

"Tell me there’s no one—no one better."

"Nobody—" you clench your eyes tight, letting the blood flow anywhere else in your head. "Nobody is even close."

"I can’t!—Fucking—I can’t!—god it’s so—fuck!"

The words out of her mouth are less and less cohesive, your name, curses and nonsense all muddled beneath her breath in whatever order the pleasure reeling through her head prefers. She moans, she mewls, and all too obviously, she seeks release.

Her eyes find yours through the reflection above the sink, smoldering, they say a thousand words, most of them fuck and please admittedly, but you recognize the look that makes your heart, droning along its dull beat, catch fire and race—the one she held beneath her lashes the first time she told you she loved you, and every time after that.

She’s obstinate, selfish. She can be a bit of brat. But she’s perfect. And she’s yours.

"Chae I’m gonna—"

Just a little more, she mouths silently, nodding her head and struggling to keep her eyes open still, stealing everything they need from you.

It takes everything in you to keep yourself from crossing that threshold, to make it just a little more. Cumming together was for fairy tales, and you weren’t going to be around to see the look on Chaewon’s face should you beat her to it. You bite your lip, your cheek, your hands press relentlessly into her breasts, her ass, anything that might distract you just a few more precious moments from the intense, quivering heat clenching around your shaft.

"Fuuuuuck."

The word is long and drawn out. Through its vowels, it meanders from its initial register a scale of wildly salacious notes, each one more debauched and husked than the last, until finally it lands hard, crackling on those final consonants. Chaewon’s body goes rigid, landing forward again against the counter.

Leaning into her, you follow the curving rise of her spine, fingers digging harshly into the perfect shape of her ass—pulling her into the ends of your thrusts. She quivers and quakes, trembling through the storm of pleasure you’d both created between her legs. It clutches you, clenches around you.

"Fuck, Chae, I’m gonna fucking cum—"

A surprisingly lucid moment has you both staring into each other, Chaewon’s face twisted and strained—her eyebrows curling and her lip between her teeth—she nods. And on a particularly deep, rather unforgiving thrust, she takes you completely into her. The warmth envelops you and you begin to feel dizzy. You don’t even know how to describe the sound that leaves your lips, but it makes the tension building in your head more bearable all the same.

Chaewon’s cunt still quivering in ecstasy, you erupt.

Her voice rasps past your ears as you continue to fuck your cum into her, "Fuck—baby, that’s it, cum for me."

As much as you want to continue soaking in the visual in front of you, the curve of her back, the flare of her hips, the flustered look on her face, your eyes shut tight. A primal instinct, involuntary and cruel. You feel each jolt from your hips delivering more of your hot release deep into Chaewon’s orgasm—clenching and pulling you further into her.

Your hips slow to a halt, your cock still resting in her, and Chaewon reaches up again, finding your lips in a clumsy kiss, her lips cool, wet and comforting. Heavy breaths shared between you start to rouse you back into reality and the noise of Chaewon’s phone buzzing stridently on the vanity rips you both back into the world of the living.

Minju’s smiling face appears atop her name on the dark screen—slowly vibrating its way to the edge of the counter. You pant, gathering enough breath to ask the obvious question, "Are you gonna answer that?"

Chaewon stares at it blankly for a couple seconds, weighing her options, before finally reaching forward and picking it up. Her breathing still beleaguered, she does her best attempt at whipping a composed voice together.

"No—we’re still—I know, I’m sorry."

She mouths to you, pointing expectantly at the heap of clothes on the floor. And then she sees it.

"Were you wearing those socks the whole fucking time?—no, Minju, I mean—I’m sorry that was—" She gives you a sour look and tosses your jacket out the door. Holding her phone against her neck, Chaewon’s instructions are clear, "Check-in is at seven."

[vampsquerade]

Requests Rules (Current Status: Open)

Characters Per Request for headcanons: Maximum of 2.

Characters Per Story: Maximum of 4 (all characters will be partners with the reader; exceptions can and will be made if i like it enough).

Characters Per NSFW Alphabet: Maximum of 1

Characters Per SFW Alphabet: Maximum of 1

Please be as specific as you can when requesting as it helps me with my writing

Please specify whether you want headcanons or an x reader, so I don’t accidentally write something you didn’t want

Requests are now open for a short time! Please just read my rules and request accordingly!

Characters I’ll Write For: Rainbow Six Siege/Extraction and Call of Duty. This may change later on, however, once I feel like branching out!

Rainbow Six Siege/Extraction:

Chul Kyung “Vigil” Hwa

Olivier “Lion” Flament

Erik “Maverick” Thorn

Jordan “Thermite” Trace

Miles “Castle” Campbell

Gustave “Doc” Kateb

Gilles “Montagne” Touré

Julien “Rook” Nizan

Saif “Oryx” Al Hadid

Dominic “Bandit” Brunsmeier

Elias “Blitz” Kötz

Marius “Jäger” Streicher

Sébastien “Buck” Côte

Håvard “Ace” Haugland

Mark “Mute” Chandar

Mike “Thatcher” Baker

James “Smoke” Porter

Seamus “Sledge” Cowden

César “Goyo” Ruiz Hernández

Masaru “Echo” Enatsu

Liu Tze “Lesion” Long

Collinn “Warden” McKinley

Aleksandr “Tachanka” Senaviev

Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda

Timur “Glaz” Glazkov

Shuhrat “Fuze” Kessikbayev

Ryad “Jackal” Ramírez Al-Hassar

Call of Duty:

John “Soap” MacTavish

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Captain John Price

Phillip Graves

Talon

König

Hong-jin “Horangi” Kim

Zhiqiang “Zimo” Wong

Jesus “Chuy” Ordaz

Enzo Reyes

Sobieslaw “Gromsko” Kościuszko

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Sebastian “Krueger” Krueger

Hans “Golem” Blaustein

Benjamin “Otter” Lee

Jackson Wyatt

Valeria “El Sin Nombre” Garza

Alejandro Vargas

Alex Keller

Gary “Roach” Sanderson

Sergio “Morte” Sulla

Vladimir Makarov

Thibault “Riptide” Lefebre

Roland “Swagger” Kaminski

What I Will Write:

Fluff

Light Smut (Vanilla)

Heavy Smut (Hardcore: dubcon, consensual non-con, and somnophilia are allowed under the circumstances that you explicitly specify that reader in the scenario will be consenting to it. if you aren’t comfortable requesting or reading that there will be time for you to scroll away. Doing this has helped me with my trauma.)

Angst (good, neutral, and bad endings)

NSFW Alphabets

SFW Alphabets

Character/Reader: Friends to Lovers

Character/Reader: Enemies to Lovers

Sick Character or Sick Reader

Gender Neutral, Female, and Male Readers

Mental Health (c-PTSD, Depression, Insomnia, and Anxiety will be the only ones I write about because those are of the few things I have been diagnosed with. I am not romanticizing these at all, keep that in mind)

Omegaverse (Alpha/Beta/Omega Character or Alpha/Beta/Omega Reader)

Monsterfucking

Multiple Partners (Exceptions will sometimes be made if I like the prompt enough)

Substance Use (only weed and alcohol)

Cheating and Toxic Relationships (My therapist has recommended I try to write stuff that helps ease off the trauma I’ve gotten from these)

Stalking

What I Will NOT Write:

Incest

Blatant Rape

Domestic Abuse

Child Abuse

Animal Abuse

Racism

Transphobia

Homophobia

Torture

Comforting Self-Harm (I used to allow this one but I’ve been in therapy for this for a good while now and it will trigger a relapse if I ever write for it again. Very slim chances of me writing for prompts like these ever again)

Suicide (Very, very, very slim chances of me ever making an exception for it)

Any obscure or gross fetishes/kinks

Character/Character (Exceptions can be made for this though!)

Pregnancy (I never properly addressed or clarified any of this and would like to apologize for what it was previously listed as. I am avoiding fetishization of anybody who can get pregnant because I have received 2 asks by the same person back in August and as you can tell, I never wrote them because they were offensive fetish prompts centered around stereotypes. There are no exceptions for this one)

Thank you very much for requesting!!

[lostmyshadesanon]

Happy Birthday Felix 🎂🎁 🎉🎊

@teyvat-writer

🦊 - Anon here!!! It's finally the day. I hope.

I have no idea what time zone you live in so I'm posting this a bit early just in case!

If it's still the 28th when you see this. Don't open it!

Let the anticipation build!

This should be the last part for our poor hydro archon, but I'm sure the most anticipated. Let's hope we can do it justice.

Mindbroken?Hydro!Archon!Male!Reader x FoulLegacy!Childe

Wouldn't it be funny if I put a rickroll here?

Or just an error message, lol.

But anyway moving on.

*

You feebly twitched as you felt Childe fuck you with his entire fist in your gaping hole. Leisurely opening and closing his hand as he ground his knuckles into your swollen prostate, and commented idly on your puffy rim.

By this point you could barely even feel when another orgasm was ripped from your soiled body, and your cock jerked underneath you.

Childe had been at this for hours. He hadn't been inside you or orgasmed since the first round, but he seemed determined to be able to shove both of his fists in your aching hole regardless of how long it took.

When you had the capacity to think between orgasms you wondered why your guards had not coming looking for you after all this time, and hoped that if the Fatui had restrained them that they hadn't died, but just been incapacitated.

Though you were never able to think long before another orgasm was dragged out of you. Combined with the saccharine sweet voice mockingly praising you. Your head was almost completely empty and body numb to the pleasure you were being put through.

You could only gurgle faintly when Childe finally got his way and stretched you enough that both his balled up fists could fit into your gaping hole. He didn't remain there for long quickly pulling both his hands free, as be grinned in glee at your ruined hole.

"I think you're finally ready, my darling patron!" He crowed, lightly petting your back as if you were a prized pet who had completed a new trick.

Staring at him through dazed and bleary eyes you wondered. "Ready for what? What more could you do to ruin me?"

He must have the ability to read your mind, or long ago you had lost the stoic control you had over your facial expression. Childe bared his fangs in a mean smile. "Though I made sure the preparation was pleasurable you've barely reacted! That's quite unfair considering how many orgasms you've had compared to me.", The demon masquerading as a man pouted. "So to make sure you're still paying attention I've brought this!"

Childe brought out a potion bottle with some unknown blue liquid inside. With a loud pop he uncorked it, tilted your hips high enough up to send sparks of pain through your spine, and promptly shoved it inside you so it could empty unhindered into your defenseless body.

There was only a moment where you felt the strange liquid mix with the remnants of your favored's cum were you debated on the odd sensation reminded you of, before it felt like it ignited inside you, and you screamed.

It was like liquid fire had been poured into you. The disassociation you had been able to reach banished like morning fog, as your nerves lit up like a livewire. You start to moan like a bitch in heat drool leaking from your mouth as the fire spread across your body. Making you feel every pulse of your insides and cock, your hole desperately grasping at the bottle inside it, but it was too small!

What had Childe done to you?! That something the size of a wine bottle would feel too small??? As your body desperately begged for something bigger, something warmer, and the aching need to cum.

That shouldn't be possible. You shouldn't even be able to come at this point considering how many orgasms had been forced upon you?!?! You could only cry out in delight eyes rolling when Childe's hands skimmed over your cock, and tugged teasingly at the bottle in your ass.

"Ah, already begging for more, my dear patron?" Childe stated teasingly. "Dottore did say this was strong but I didn't think it'd be this strong."

Barely leaving you room to breath. Childe ripped the bottle from your grasping insides sending you screaming into orgasm. You were barely aware of your begging as you sobbed at the empty feeling inside you.

"Oh, darling don't worry you'll be full very soon. I have to make sure to claim you in a way that NO ONE will ever be able to satisfy you again. That way both you and the world know you're MINE." Childe whispered the words confidently into the small of your back before dragging sharp canines growing steadily into fangs down to the swell of your ass.

"Prepare yourself!" He cautioned before sneering over your begging form and rolling eyes, "If you still have the capacity too." Before he slid his fangs deep into the small of your back a glowing riptide mark spreading out like ink over your skin as electricity started to coat his own.

Spine arched from the conflicting flashes of pain and pleasure you felt more than saw the transformation happening behind you.

Cool hands grew massive claws as they clutched at your hips drawing hints of blood from where they pressed. The cracking of electricity and bone as you were hoisted off the ground jerkily from your current partner's growth in height and size. The fangs in your back sliding smoothly out and a smooth texture replaced it almost like being pressed up against marble. You could feel fur tickling your back as you twisted to see what kind of horrors awaited you.

He was massive, he was intimidating, he was gorgeous. The feral boy who had struggled to survive in the abyss had not only tamed it but made it part of his strength in this new form. Massive blood red horns sprouted from his mask, and a cape seemingly made of stars and space.

Dragging your eyes down you froze. Childe's cock had already been awe inspiring as a human, but in this form...

It was terrifying. It seemed to emerge from some kind of protective slit. The shape was as inhuman as his current form, and a size to match. He was easily double if not closer to triple your height and his cock fit his current form. Easily the size of one of your thighs if not bigger. You now understood the need for hours of stretching. It was ribbed increasing it's girth though it did not have a bulbous head which made you weary. That implied that whatever Childe had turned into was a creature built for egg laying. You couldn't see any kind of testes but knew he was fertile considering the steady drip of pre cum from the swollen tip. You could also see a slight pouch towards the base of his member which you knew meant he probably had a knot too.

You were horrified when your body shivered in pleasure at the sight and smell of the crime against nature before you. You desperately were trying to convince yourself that the utter wanton lust inside you was based on whatever mysterious liquid Childe had forced you to consume.

A rolling purr vibrated through you from the creature before you as you chocked on your own drool unable to take your eyes off the cock before you, but Childe didn't allow you to stare for much longer.

Raising your body up as if it weighed no more than a toy, and similarly treating you no better than a ragdoll, Childe positioned you over his monstrosity of a cock.

Desperately you were muttering no over and over again as you pawed uselessly at his shoulders trying to climb away as you were lowered closer and closer to the leaking member. You knew you'd never recover from this once you got a taste of what was about to penetrate you you'd never be the same, and only be able to thirst and be filled by this monstrous thing.

A deep chuckle pressed near your ear as Childe bent so that his face was near yours still lowering and positioning you for his cock. "You did say on your honor as an Archon you'd take me. So take me!"

Before sheathing himself inside you in one smooth motion. Your nerves screamed with you. You could feel ever rib as they caressed your swollen insides and invaded your body. You could do nothing but cry and take it, as he used your body like nothing more then a sex toy to masturbate himself with.

Grunts and growls joined your screams and begging as he furiously bounced you on his dick. Whispering praises and croons near your head while your eyes crossed and tongue hung uselessly from your mouth. Though his tip wasn't shaped like a human man's it did its job of digging into your prostate so that pleasure was dragged from your willing body, and your unwilling submission from your mind.

You're going to break! 💙

You're going to brEAK! 💙💙

You'RE GoING To BrEAK! 💙💙💙

You screamed until your voice broke, eyes becoming fully unfocused, as your body spasmed uselessly through orgasm grasping desperately at the welcome intruder making itself home inside you.

Gleeful claws dug deeper into your hips drawing blood when Childe felt you completely relax no longer even a token struggle being put up by his patron. No his love. Now he could just TAKE.

Claws delicately crawled up your torso to carefully grasp and pull at your swollen teats intent on tugging and bruising them until they were swollen enough to be mistaken for small tits and the idea of covering up would be laughable due to sensitivity.

He watches in delight as you could only moan, and get out enough syllables to beg while he drove you far past overstimulation. Your pupils not even attempting to track anything occuring around you.

Though all good things must come to an end and Childe could feel the tightening in his gut and stir in his knot that this round was drawing to a close.

You could only sob and thrash in utter pleasure as Childe continued to stimulate your chest. Nipples bruised and swollen a cherry red easily the size of the tip of a person's thumb, before feeling the man, monster, behind you still with a deep groan.

Your animal hind brain could only gasp in relief thinking this trial of endurance was finally over. But you should stop under estimating your favored he loves to exceed expectations.

You could only twitch weakly, pinned to his crotch, as you were suspended in the air, when you felt his knot start to inflate. Your cock dripped a steady flow of pre cum from Childe's tip being ground against your probably bruised and weeping prostate, as you both waited for his knot to fully inflate.

But the worst had still yet to come. Finally after what felt like minutes and a few micro orgasms you felt Childe move. A twitch in his stomach before a lurch in his cock. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before taking a ragged gasp.

Something solid was moving through the member nestled deep inside you. Stretching you out further to accommodate it. You could only sob as it worked further into you.

Childe dragged a clawed hand up to your cheek lightly caressing you. "You're doing so well pet. You'll make such a good incubator and brood mother. All for my lovely eggs." Childe sneered delighted at your faint moaned denials and twitches. He loved that even now you were attempting to fight him. Pleasure broken as you were.

Childe ground into you lightly tugging at your rim with his knot to hear you gasp and cry before leaning forward as if to hear you better. "What was that my love? I couldn't have heard you denying to be my broodmare after all you promised to take all of me. I'm only making sure you follow through. After all you'll look so pretty full of my eggs."

Childe's hand on your face dragged your chin down to look at your ever filling stomach. During your conversation he had been quick to fill you. You were so bloated at this point you could easily see the faint shape of the eggs inside you.

A ragged gasp left your lips as the next egg pressed sharply against your prostate finally sending you over the edge and into orgasm. You wailed as your eyes rolled grasping desperately at your ever increasing stomach. Unable to come down from orgasm as each egg made a pass over your prostate.

This seemed to delight your captor. Childe's voice deepened in mockery, "You try to keep your pride and make denials that you're not a whore who loves the idea of being fucked and filled constantly and yet you can't stop continuously orgasming on my cock like some desperate slit." Childe wickedly continued micro thrusting to fuck you with his knot as his eggs kept your orgasm from truly ending.

Over time Childe felt his eggs slow to a stop and his knot start to deflate. Carefully he lowered himself and you to the floor as he let his transformation peel away to show his human form keeping his still sizeable cock plugging you full.

Placing you delicately in his lap so you could continue to cockwarm him Childe hummed a jaunty tune. Waving a hand in front of your face his tune picked up in beat at the lack of reaction or recognition in his darlings eyes. He had finally broken you for now. He expected you'd pull yourself together eventually, but it should be long enough he can bundle you away, and sedate your now human form, for the long trip to Sneznaya.

After all his family had been inquiring when he would take a partner, but knew he'd had his eyes only on one. After all one day he'd been King of everything and he needed a capable partner at his side. Placing a kiss on your temple Childe continued humming as he watched his agents enter the room and prepare for their swift getaway.

He grinned your first mistake was truly saving his life and putting him in debt to you. After all he always keeps his promises and pays his debts.

*

I think that's it. That was hard to figure out how to end. 🤔

Hopefully you liked it Felix! After I did all that hype for this chapter.

Happy birthday again. 🎉🎉😆😆

From 🦊 Anon!

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 16: Mini Elvis

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot. "Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed." "You knew it was a trap," Percy hissed. Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV." Taking the shield from Percy I shoved it at him. "You're a jerk." Annabeth and Grover caught their breath. Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back. "See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas." The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS. Percy said, "You're kidding." Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job." He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuff Oreos. Percy said, "I don't want your lousy—" "Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving him his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot." I could see Percy gritting his teeth. It was probably a deadly insult to refuse something from a god, but I also didn't want anything that Ares had touched. Reluctantly, he swung the bag over his shoulder. I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt us. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us. Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow.

I imagined the headline: TWELVE-YEAR-OLD OUTLAWS BEATS UP DEFENSELESS BIKER. "You owe us one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep my voice level. "You promised me information about our parents." "You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "They're not dead." The ground seemed to spin beneath me. "What do you mean?" "I mean Percy's mom was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept. As for yours, I saw them myself. Upstairs with the big guys. Why do you think you're causing one of the biggest uproar up there? They're refusing to tell who your parent is. No matter how much cut." He smirked. "What...?" Percy and the others must've seen something as they all held me back. "What are they doing to them?" I could feel the ground shake as Percy's grip on me tighten. We'll save them... calm down. Not the hero. Us. So calm down. "Calm down Y/N." Percy whispered. The ground stopped shaking and took a deep breath. "I will make you all kneel." I said. He looked at me confusedly. Then he shrug it off then laughed, "Oh yeah? can't wait, kid." Percy gripped my shoulder. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues." Behind his sunglasses, fire glowed. I felt a hot wind in my hair. "We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back." He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street. Annabeth said, "That was not smart, Percy." "I don't care." "You don't want a god as your enemy. Especially not that god." "Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..." He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck. "If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry." I didn't like it, but we had no better option. Besides, I'd seen enough of Denver. We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind us. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter. The trailer was dark inside until Percy uncapped Riptide. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing I didn't know the name for. Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each gotten a Styrofoam tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL! Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur. "This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?" He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, and we would've helped him, but just then the trucks engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down. We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but I pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. Besides, I had a feeling we might look a lot better to the lion than those turnips. I found a water jug and refilled their bowls, then Percy used Riptide to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. He gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope. Grover calmed the antelope down, while I used my knife to cut the balloon off his horn. Annabeth wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but we decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. We told Grover to promise the animals we'd help them more in the morning, then we settled in for night. Grover curled up on a turnip sack; Annabeth opened our bag of Double Stuff Oreos and nibbled on one halfheartedly; I tried to cheer myself up by concentrating on the fact that we were halfway to Los Angeles. Halfway to our destination. It was only June fourteenth. The solstice wasn't until the twenty-first. We could make it in plenty of time. On the other hand, I had no idea what to expect next. The gods kept toying with me. At least Hephaestus had the decency to be honest about it—he'd put up cameras and advertised me as entertainment. But even when the cameras weren't rolling, I had a feeling my quest was being watched. I was a source of amusement for the gods. And it wasn't helping knowing they're hurting my parents. Here I was risking my life for them and what are they doing? "Hey," Percy cooed, "We'll save them. No matter what. I promised you that." "Okay." Percy pulled me closer until I was resting on him. Annabeth cleared her throat. "Hey, sorry I wasn't much help back at the park... I could've helped getting you guys out... It's just..." She shuddered. "Spiders." "Because of the Arachne story," I guessed. "She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?" She nodded. "Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things." "We're a team, remember?" Percy said. "Besides, Grover did the fancy flying. All we did was grab the shield." I thought he was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?" Annabeth, Percy and I laughed. She pulled apart an Oreo, handed me and Percy a half each. "In the Iris message... did Luke really say nothing?" I munched my cookie and thought about how to answer. The conversation via rainbow had bothered me all evening. "Luke said you and he go way back. He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree." Percy answered. In the dim bronze light of the sword blade, it was hard to read their expressions. Grover let out a mournful bray. "I should've told you the truth from the beginning." His voice trembled. "I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along." "You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus." He nodded glumly. "And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp..." Percy looked at Annabeth. "That was you and Luke, wasn't it?" She put down her Oreo, uneaten. "Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me toward help. Thalia was twelve. Luke was fourteen. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them. They were... amazing monster-fighters, even without training. We traveled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for about two weeks before Grover found us." "I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," he said, sniffling. "Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't just leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. I thought... I thought I could lead all three of them to safety. It was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I froze. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker..." "Stop it," Annabeth said. "No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either." "She sacrificed herself to save us," he said miserably, "Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so." "Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?" Percy said. "That's not fair." "Percy's right," Annabeth said. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says." Grover kept sniffling in the dark. "It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy." "You're not lame," Annabeth insisted. "You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met. Name one other who would dare go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now." She kicked me in the shin. "Yeah," I said, which I would've done even without the kick. "It's not luck that you found Thalia and Percy, Grover. You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan. I mean, you found me despite my scentlessness... is that a word?" Percy muffled a laugh. I heard a deep, satisfied sigh. I waited for Grover to say something, but his breathing only got heavier. When the sound turned to snoring, I realized he'd fallen sleep. "How does he do that?" I marveled. "I don't know," Annabeth said. "But that was really a nice thing you told him." "I meant it." We rode in silence for a few miles, bumping around on the feed sacks. The zebra munched a turnip. The lion licked the last of the hamburger meat off his lips and looked at me hopefully. Percy didn't take long to fall asleep. Annabeth rubbed her necklace like she was thinking deep, strategic thoughts. "That pine-tree bead," I said. "Is that from your first year?" She looked. She hadn't realized what she was doing. "Yeah," she said. "Every August, the counselors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress—now that was a weird summer...." "And the college ring is your father's?" "That's none of your—" She stopped herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it is." "You don't have to tell me." "No... it's okay." She took a shaky breath. "My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter, two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have gotten through his doctoral program at Harvard without her.... That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk, said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him." "That doesn't sound so bad." "Yeah, well... the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain." "You shouldn't give up," I told her. "You should write him a letter or something." "Thanks for the advice," she said coldly, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with." We passed another few miles of silence. "Luke actually told me about you two coming to camp already." "Really?" She looked at me amazed. "You two must've gotten close fast." "Well, I don't know. I feel like I had to talk to Luke. Like I had to be there for him. The same with Percy." We have to be there for both "You're not wrong. I'm not sure how I'd be without your help." Percy yawned. "Yeah, I wouldn't have been able to handle him." Annabeth glared at him. I laughed, "I think you two are cute." Both of them blushed and said some excuse to disprove me. Which then turned into them showing off who's better than who. "If I'm dating anyone it'll be Y/N!" Both of them huffed and glared at each other. I shook my head and smiled. At least I've gotten new friends out of this. "So," Percy trailed off. "If the gods fight," he said, "will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?" Annabeth put her head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed her eyes. "I don't know what my mom will do. I just know I'll fight next to you." "Why?" "Because Y/N will and whether I like it or not you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?" "That's all Mr. Peabody." "Shut up, Droopy." I felt her rest on my shoulder and she fell asleep. "Am I that comfortable?" "Yeah," Percy laughed as he rested on my lap. I had trouble following their example, with Grover snoring and an albino lion staring hungrily at me, but eventually I closed my eyes. ~~~ I woke with a start. I was second one awake. Grover was talking to the antelope. "Morning?" "Everyone had the Y/N privilege except me?" "You fell asleep first." I stroked both Annabeth and Percy's hair, which unfortunately woke up Annabeth. "Sorry about that." "It's fine." She yawned. She brought out some Oreo and handed me one. Until the truck stopped. "They're checking the animals aren't they?" Annabeth froze. I shook Percy's shoulder. "The truck's stopped," I said. "We think they're coming to check on the animals." "Hide!" Annabeth hissed. She had it easy. She just put on her magic cap and disappeared. Grover, Percy and I had to dive behind feed sacks and hope we looked like turnips. The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in. "Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I hauled appliances." He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes. "You hot, big boy?" he asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face. The lion roared in indignation. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said. Next to me, under the turnip sacks, Grover tensed. For a peace-loving herbivore, he looked downright murderous. The trucker threw the antelope a squashed-looking Happy Meal bag. He smirked at the zebra. "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!" The zebra, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at us. There was a loud knock, knock, knock on the side of the trailer. The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?" A voice outside—it must've been Eddie's—shouted back, "Maurice? What'd ya say?" "What are you banging for?" Knock, knock, knock. Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?" Our guy Maurice rolled his eyes and went back outside, cursing at Eddie for being an idiot. A second later, Annabeth appeared next to me. She must've done the banging to get Maurice out of the trailer. She said, "This transport business can't be legal." "No kidding," Grover said. He paused, as if listening. "The lion says these guys are animal smugglers!" "We've got to free them!" Grover said. He and Annabeth both looked at Percy, waiting for his say. "Percy, open the lock." I snapped at his face. Outside, Eddie and Maurice were still yelling at each other, but I knew they'd be coming inside to torment the animals again any minute. He grabbed Riptide and slashed the lock off the zebra's cage. The zebra burst out. It turned to Percy and bowed. Grover held up his hands and said something to the zebra in goat talk, like a blessing. Just as Maurice was poking his head back inside to check out the noise, the zebra leaped over him and into the street. There was yelling and screaming and cars honking. We rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zebra galloping down a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs. We'd just released a zebra in Las Vegas. Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!" "Now would be a good time to leave," Annabeth said. "The other animals first," Grover said. I cut the locks with my knife which wasn't as easy as what Percy had done. Grover raised his hands and spoke the same goat-blessing he'd used for the zebra. "Good luck," I told the animals. The antelope and the lion burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets. Some tourists screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of stunt by one of the casinos. "Will the animals be okay?" I asked Grover. "I mean, the desert and all—" "Don't worry," he said. "I placed a satyr's sanctuary on them." "Meaning?" "Meaning they'll reach the wild safely," he said. "They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live." "Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" I asked. "It only works on wild animals." "So it would only affect Percy," Annabeth reasoned. "Hey!" He protested. "Kidding," she said. "Come on. Let's get out of this filthy truck." We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention. We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica, but still made me homesick. I wasn't sure what we were looking for. Maybe just a place to get out of the heat for a few minutes, find a sandwich and a glass of lemonade, make a new plan for getting west. We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure. The doorman smiled at us. "Hey, kids. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?" I'd learned to be suspicious, the last week or so. I figured anybody might be a monster or a god. But my knife wasn't glowing so... I figured. Besides, I was so relieved to hear somebody who sounded sympathetic that I nodded and said we'd love to come in. Inside, we took one look around, and Grover said, "Whoa." The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine. "Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key." I stammered, "Um, but..." "No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, loom 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your Lotus Cash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides." He handed us each a green plastic credit card. I knew there must be some mistake. Obviously he thought we were some millionaire's kids. But I took the card and said, "How much is on here?" His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?" "I mean, when does it run out of cash?" He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay." We took the elevator upstairs and checked out our room. It was a suite with three separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas, and chips. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and water beds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub, and sure enough, there was a skeet-shooting machine and a shotgun, so you could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun. I didn't see how that could be legal, but I thought it was pretty cool. The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing, though I doubted we'd ever find time to look at the view with a room like this. "Oh, goodness," Annabeth said. "This place is ..." "Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet." There were clothes in the closet, and they fit me. I frowned, thinking that this was a little strange. I took a shower, which felt awesome after a week of grimy travel. I changed clothes, ate a bag of chips, drank three Cokes, and came out feeling better than I had in a long time. Search and find them Huh? Look for them and warn them I came out of the bedroom and found that Annabeth, Percy and Grover had also showered and changed clothes. Grover was eating potato chips to his heart's content, Percy looked like he was having a headache, while Annabeth cranked up the National Geographic Channel. "Percy you okay?" "Yeah it's just.... All those stations," he told Annabeth, "and she turn on National Geographic." "It's interesting." "I feel good," Grover said. "I love this place." Without his even realizing it, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again. "So what now?" Annabeth asked. "Sleep?" Percy and I looked at each other and grinned. We both held up our green plastic Lotus Cash cards. "Play time," I said. I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun. I came from a relatively poor family. Our idea of a splurge was eating out at Burger King and renting a video. A five-star Vegas hotel? Forget it. I spent most of my time playing and... looking for someone I think. I bungee-jumped the lobby five or six times, snowboarded the artificial ski slope, and played virtual-reality laser tag and FBI sharpshooter. I saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really liked the reverse hunter thing—where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks. I saw Annabeth playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D sim game where you build your own city, and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. I didn't think much of it, but Annabeth loved it. Percy was playing with Grover. I'm not sure when I first realized something was wrong. Probably, it was when I noticed the guy standing next to me at VR sharpshooters. He was about thirteen, I guess, but his clothes were weird. I thought he was some Elvis impersonator's son. He wore bell-bottom jeans and a red T-shirt with black piping, and his hair was permed and gelled like a New Jersey girl's on homecoming night. When he saw me he gave a smirk and invited me to play a game of sharpshooters together and he said, "Groovy, man. Been here two weeks, and the games keep getting better and better." Groovy? Later, while we were talking, I said something was "sick," and he looked at me kind of startled, as if he'd never heard the word used that way before. He said his name was Darrin, but as soon as I started asking him questions he got bored with me and started to go back to the computer screen. I said, "Hey, Darrin?" "What?" "What year is it?" He frowned at me. "In the game?" "No. In real life." He had to think about it. "1977." "No," I said, getting a little scared. "Really." "Hey, man. Bad vibes. I got a game happening." After that he totally ignored me. I started talking to people, and I found it wasn't easy. They were glued to the TV screen, or the video game, or their food, or whatever. I found a guy who told me it was 1985. Another guy told me it was 1993. They all claimed they hadn't been in here very long, a few days, a few weeks at most. They didn't really know and they didn't care. Then it occurred to me: how long had I been here? It seemed like only a couple of hours, but was it? I then tried to move, but I bumped into a girl. "I'm sorry!" She said. "Hey, no prob." "Oh... uhm... No prob?" "I--- No problem. Say Uh... I kinda lost track of date. What's the year again?" "Huh? It's 1930. Okay, I'm sorry I have to go. I'm looking for someone." Everyone is important in our story "Did you say something?" I go by Y/N L/N, you'll find the one you're looking for at the zombie shooting game. I left her alone and confused. I didn't know why. But I knew now this place is wrong. I tried to remember why we were here. We were going to Los Angeles. We were supposed to find the entrance to the Underworld. My parents... for a scary second, I had trouble remembering their names. I had to save them. I found Percy first. "There's something wrong." We said at the same time. "Years?" He asked. I nodded. We then looked for the others. We found Annabeth still building her city. "Come on," Percy told her. "We've got to get out of here." No response. I shook her. "Annabeth?" She looked up, annoyed. "What? "We need to leave." "Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers—" "This place is a trap." She didn't respond until I shook her again. "What?" "Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!" "Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes." "Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever." "So?" she asked. "Can you imagine a better place?" I grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game. "Hey!" She screamed and hit me, but nobody else even bothered looking at us. They were too busy. I made her look directly in my eyes. I said, "Spiders. Large, hairy spiders." That jarred her. Her vision cleared. "Oh my gods," she said. "How long have we—" "I don't know, but we've got to find Grover." We went searching, and found him still playing Virtual Deer Hunter. "Grover!" we both shouted. He said, "Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!" "Grover!" He turned the plastic gun on me and started clicking, as if I were just another image from the screen. I looked at Percy, and together we took Grover by the arms and dragged him away. His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, "No! I just got to a new level! No!" The Lotus bellhop hurried up to us. "Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?" "We're leaving," I told him. "Such a shame," he said, and I got the feeling that he really meant it, that we'd be breaking his heart if we went. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members." He held out the cards, and I wanted one. I knew that if I took one, I'd never leave. I'd stay here, happy forever, playing games forever, and soon I'd forget my parents, and our quest, and maybe even my own name. I'd be playing virtual rifleman with groovy Disco Darrin forever. Grover reached for the card, but Annabeth yanked back his arm and said, "No, thanks." We walked toward the door, and as we did, the smell of the food and the sounds of the games seemed to get more and more inviting. I thought about our room upstairs. We could just stay the night, sleep in a real bed for once.... Then we burst through the doors of the Lotus Casino and ran down the sidewalk. It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert. I ran to the nearest newspaper stand and read the year first. Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth. We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days. We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.

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[burstinn]

You accidentally sit on their face, And they actually enjoy it

HEADCANONS

Warnings and Notes:

All of these aren't serious hcs, I was high again and wanted to make this

I made this for funny

Slight nsfw

Gn reader, target audience is male

Haha face sitting

People mentioned:

Riptide (Tide), Soap, Gaz, Ghost, König, Makarov, Keegan, Horangi, Price, Krueger, Roach, Logan, Graves

You are tired, after agrueling training from a grouchy superior who had a bad day so he had to take it out on you and your comrades. You needed to sit down, badly. Your legs are about ready to give up.

Once you reach the common room, fucking finally. You pull out your phone to find something to watch, while you make your way to the sofa.

And you sit down, Before you felt something poking you, something.. Wrong. You immediately look down realizing you.. YOU SAY ON SOMEONE'S FACE

"OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY"

RIPTIDE

- He immediately sits up looking at you, well if his mask was off he would be confused at fuck

- "Sorry for huh??"

- Seems like you say on him while he slept

- "... ", "nothin"

- Weird, but okay.. He tells you go off while he layed back down to continue his eye rest

- Thank fucking god, Thank the holy stars he didn't catch you sittin on him

- BUT.. The holy stars didn't feel like saving you right now. Because apparently a rookie caught you accidentally sitting on Tide and told him after he woke up.. That fuckin snitch

- Now you have to face the embarrassment of Riptide confronting you about it the next day.

- Tide sounds upset as well while confronting you, how humiliating

- Well the thing that you don't know is. The thing is, he angry cause HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL TO ASS ON HIS FACE. HE DIDN'T GET TO FEEL A PLUMP ASS SITTIN DOWN ON HIS FAAACE

- and by God would he find a way to let you sit on him.

SOAP

- Yknow.. You know how I write this man..

- He saw you walk in, distracted by your phone.. Obviously making your way to the couch while he sitting down.

- Then he got the bright idea.. To yknow.. Lay his head down to just... Idk stretch.. Totally

- He had the pleasure as well to watch your ass slowly sit down on his face, well for a few seconds anyway. Then you immediately get off his face. Sad life fr

- "huh? What's up why'd you get off?" "Your ass is nice to look at btw"

- " you saw me about to sit down on you and you didn't say anything?!"

- "A man gotta do to experience something new man.."

- You would hit him. But you would also get in trouble for that.

- he would joke the shit about it as well. He would tease the fuck outta you for the rest of the month for this.

- Bro won't even hide to shamefully ask you if you wanna sit on his face again ( in a joking way)

- (He's actually serious)

GAZ

- He was about to shut his eyes when he suddenly saw an outline of an ass about to sit on him.

- His eyes suddenly opened and he tried to get up but nah.. Too late bro you gotta feel the full plumpy moons first

- When you got up his eyes were wide and his face was red.

- "no.. It's okay.."

- he got off and left. Leaving you in your shame

- He had to leave to compose himself.. He found something new about himself and he isn't sure how to react

GHOST

- His eyes were closed.. Then he felled something soft on his face.

- Then a scream oh my god I'm sorry

- Oh.. Shit...

- He sits up, realizing you sat on his face.. He doesn't say anything.

- His face is fucking red under the mask. Your ass suddenly looked twice as big as before. Don't know how that works but go with it fr.

- He got hard, you noticed.

- "dude.. Sir..?.. Are you.."

- He just looks at you. He has that look in his eyes

- Cmon, yknow what you gotta do.. YOU KNOW

- SIT ON HIS FUCKING FACE RUAUAAAAGHHH

KÖNIG

- He wasn't expecting ass in his face, he thought he wouldn't enjoy something like face sitting but hey.. It's actually.. Nice?

- He doesn't say anything when you suddenly sit up embarrassingly trying too apologize

- He just nodded..

- He wanted you to sit on his face again so fucking badly..

- So badly he would lay down on literally anything sittable while you were in the room

- It was so fucking obvious it was almost funny

- You had to confront him about it. And he just.. Confessed, yeah, he wanted you to sit ok his face

- .... Cmon bro.. Be a man and sit on the guys face, Make his wish come trueeee

MAKAROV

- " sit back down"

- "excuse me? Sir.. No-"

- you better sit the fuck back down on his face

- He will literally pull a gun on you and force you to sit back down on his face

KEEGAN

- No fucking lie he literally took a fucking huge sniff

- You know because you fucking heard that comically loud sniff

- You had to cut your apology short to look at that dude in disbelief

- "Did you just fucking sniff my ass?!"

- Bro will literally look at you with a goofy ahh face and just look at you.. Not saying anything, not even a fuckin nod

- "you gonna sit back down on me or..?"

- He made you sit back down on his face

HORNAGI

-EHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHEHRHEHEHHhahahahahaahHAHAAH

- He will literally squeeze your ass, then pull your legs and make you sit back down on his face

- Don't even try to fight. His hands are fucking locked down on your thighs to keep you stuck on his face

- He made you sit down on his face for so long, you were literally concerned if he was breathing

- if you ask him if he's alive, he would just squeeze your leg to show you. Yeah, he's good

- if you look behind you, He's hard.

PRICE

- would smile and assure you it's okay.

- Pats your back, for more assurance. But he literally wants to Pat your ass

- Bro would imagine what it would be if you sat on his face

- Naked. Yes, if you sat on his face naked.

- If you did his beard would tickle you.. Which was what he wanted fr

KRUEGER

- He would say something like in a very angry and demanding tone

- "Why'd you get off?"

- "huh?"

- "Sit.Back.down"

- You did

ROACH

- Yo.. He feelin something he never felt before. Haha lie he just found a new kink he would actually enjoy

- He would literally follow you around and tug your shirt and point at your ass then his face

- If you would say no, He would leave and come back a few minutes later and do the same thing

- He would do it until you say yes..

- He's very happy. He's a very happy bug

LOGAN WALKER

- Would scream at you

- because you made him discover something about himself

- He's angry because of that

- He would force you to run 15 laps because of that.

- Then when you suddenly tired, sweating yo legs shaking from how tired you are

- He would silently and gently ask you ( he would toss you over his shoulder and walk you off to his room and make you sit on him)

- He won't explain why he did that. He just wanted to

GRAVES

- Would look at you like 🤨

- Then be like 😐😒😏

- stands up and slaps your ass

- and asks you to sit on his face

Everyone mentioned

- You will face fuck them

- Do not fight me on this, they will make you face fuck them

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 2: CHARLES SMITH, THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 

synopsis: charles makes sure you're getting on okay as you continue to try to evade arthur (poorly, might i add).

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: i almost leaked this to my classmate when sending her a link. nearly shat myself but we're all good this is all still under wraps

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

Charles was right. Even though you want to help, there’s really nothing to do besides hunt – and the good Lord knows you’re useless when it comes to that.

For the last day or so, you’ve just been hanging around the garage-made-kitchen. Even though Javier told you you weren’t intruding (and that “everyone needs shelter”), you feel like you are. It’s not a good feeling. So you stayed outside, in the company of a man who introduced himself as Simon Pearson and the camp cook, Charles, and occasionally Javier when he found the time to swing by. 

A fair few people have introduced themselves as well – Hosea Matthews, Bill Williamson, Lenny Summers, Reverend Orville Swanson, Leopold Strauss (who just oozed sleaze), Miss Karen Jones, Miss Tilly Jackson, Miss Mary-Beth Gaskill, and little Jack alongside his mother, Miss Abigail Roberts. Those who didn’t directly introduce themselves to you were pointed out by Karen and you were given a run-down on them.

So far, these are the people as you know them: Missus Sadie Adler is a grieving, skittish widow. Uncle is a lazy sack of shit. John Marston is better at being wolf food than being a father. Miss Susan Grimshaw is stubborn (but caring – somewhat like how neighborhood mamas care). Miss Molly O’Shea has a stick so far up her ass she spits splinters when she talks. The man tied up in the barn, Kieran Duffy, is an O’Driscoll (or ex-O’Driscoll, if what he insists is true is really true). Oh – and the blond man that punched Bill? That’s Micah Bell: a man with the eye of a viper tasting the air and the nose of a shark waiting for blood in the water. From what you’ve deduced, his general vibe is “I would take sexual relationship advice from Bill Cosby if given the chance.”

All in all, a healthily diverse group of people – even if the traits that make them diverse aren’t all that desirable. (Mostly Micah’s. Especially Micah’s.)

But Charles is nice enough. So you’ve stuck with Charles. Even if you need to hang around Pearson to hang out with him. Pearson isn’t an intrinsically bad guy, just… a little off-putting.

Right now, you’re able to put your hands to use by opening canned vegetables and putting them in the cauldron-looking pot Pearson has for rabbit stew. Across the table, Charles is butchering and deboning a rabbit as best he can with his injured hand. You try your best to keep your eyes on the cans of carrots and celery you’re opening. 

There’s footsteps. You glance up. It’s Arthur. You look back down. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Pearson gripes to no one in particular. 

You watch Arthur approach the fire and he holds his hands out towards the coals in your peripheral vision. He shakes his head. “Ah, we’re okay.”

“We have a few cans of food and a rabbit. For, what – ten, twelve people?” Pearson gestures over to where you and Charles are working. “Even more with them and that widow.”

Despite yourself, you can feel the tips of your ears start to burn. What do you have to be embarrassed about? Needing to eat? If anything, Pearson should be the one feeling embarrassed for talking about you in front of you. Yeah… that’s it. 

Pearson continues. “When I was in the Navy…”

Arthur immediately interrupts him. “I – I do not wish to hear about what you got up to in the Navy, Mister Pearson.”

And yet, he keeps going despite Arthur’s protest. “We were stranded at sea… for fifty days.”

“And you, unfortunately, survived,” Arthur drawls. 

You glance up at him from underneath your eyelashes and smile. His eye catches yours, and your gaze drops, as does your smile. Instead, you work on getting your finger under the tab of a can of chopped onions – which is hard, considering the thickness of your gloves.

You feel Arthur’s eyes leave you and let out a soft sigh of relief that clouds in front of your face. Charles holds out his knife to you. You tip the top of the can towards him, and he wedges the (bloody – ew) blade of his knife underneath the tab and opens it. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You clench your jaw when you feel Arthur’s eyes on you again – yes, very briefly, but still. You can count the number of times you’ve made eye contact with him on one hand, and you don’t want to add to that total. 

Thankfully, Pearson seems ignorant to your plight and continues complaining. “When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn’t able to get supplies in!”

“Well, when government agents are hunting you down, sometimes shopping trips need to be cut short,” Arthur snaps. “We’ll survive. We always have. And if needs be, we can eat you – you’re the fattest.”

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh and clear your throat to mask any noise you might’ve made. You pour the onions in the pot and glance at the rabbit carcass, now carved up and stripped of meat.

“Damn, there’s nothing left on that thing,” you say. “You’re good at that.”

Charles nods in response. “If you’re done, you can put it on the fire.”

You lift the pot with a grunt – it’s heavier than you expected, but nothing you can’t handle. You move over to the coals and hang the pot on a hook over the fire while Pearson and Arthur continue talking. 

“I sent Lenny and Bill hunting, and they found nothing,” Pearson says. 

“Well, Lenny’s more into book learnin’ than huntin’,” Arthur says. You perk up at that. “Bill’s a fool. Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read, ain’t no wonder they haven’t found –”

“Enough of this,” Charles interrupts. Even though his voice is relatively quiet and deep, it still cuts through whatever Arthur was planning on prattling on about. “We’ll go find something. Come on, Arthur.”

“Well, take them.” Arthur gestures vaguely in your direction. “Since they seem so keen on helpin’ out, and all.”

“I, um…” You shake your head. “No, thanks.”

“They don’t even know how to hold a rifle correctly,” Charles says. (His bluntness stings a little, but it’s true. You know how to hold a handgun, but not these old-timey types.) “If they knew how to hunt, we would’ve gone already.”

Arthur sighs and shrugs. “If you insist.”

“Wait a second, hold on.” Pearson hurries over to the table you and Charles had been working at earlier. He pulls out a can from the small pile you had organized and tosses it to Arthur. “You’re gonna need something to eat out there.”

“Hm… “assorted, salted offal”,” Arthur reads off the label. He levels Pearson with a dead stare. “Starving would be preferable.”

You stifle a laugh and, again, clear your throat.

“Come on, let’s go,” Charles says, adjusting the bandage on his hand. 

“You can’t go huntin’,” Arthur says. “Look at your hand.”

“I can’t stay here listening to you two,” Charles says. He gestures to you without looking at you. “The conversation they make is tolerable, but, again, they can’t hunt. Look, if there’s game in those hills, I’ll find it – and you can kill it.”

“You need to rest, Charles,” Arthur insists.

“You think this is rest?” Charles’ face twists into a scowl, then he turns and walks towards his horse with a “Come along.”

Arthur scoffs under his breath and his eyes flick to you. You do your best to suppress the temptation to duck away from his gaze, as piercing as it is. You win, and he looks away, following Charles to the hitching post. They quickly mount up and ride out.

You draw your shoulders up to your ears and shudder. When Pearson shoots you a questioning glance, you excuse it with “What? It’s cold.”

When a few seconds have passed, you roll your shoulders back. You settle down on the chair that’s inside the kitchen, just watching a few late, fat snowflakes fall outside.

After a good ten minutes of watching Pearson and playing with your hands, you figure he’ll be fine on his own and wander out along the footpaths in the snow. You find who you’re looking for quickly. 

Lenny gives you a polite nod as you stand across from him, the fire on the ground separating you two. He has a rifle – the sight of which doesn’t surprise you as much as it first did – and he settles the butt of the gun in the inner corner of his elbow. 

“You’re Lenny, right?” You try. 

“Yeah. And you’re…” Lenny gives your name. You nod in response.

“I just…” You clear your throat and bat away the embarrassment and anxiety that’s creeping up on you – something that always comes with approaching strangers. “Arthur mentioned that you like books. I, uh… I read, too. Sometimes.”

“Really?” Lenny says. “What kinda books have they got out in the Mojave?”

You look down at the fire and think, trying to come up with some excuse and build your backstory. “We don’t have a lot of books – I live in a pretty isolated part of the desert. But there’s traders, and they bring medical books, and a few storybooks. I like the medicine books they bring. You?”

Lenny seems to hesitate for a moment. “Poetry.”

“Poetry?” You hum. “Huh. Poems are nice.”

There’s a lapse in conversation. You don’t know how to fill it. You say the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Micah’s kinda a prick, right?” You blurt out. 

Your eyes snap up to Lenny’s face. He’s surprised, but his face quickly melts into a smile and he laughs. You feel the coil of anxiety in your stomach loosen. 

“Why, I didn’t expect you to come out and say it,” he says. “But your assessment is correct.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You laugh nervously, your eyes falling to the fire again. “I just get bad vibes from the guy.”

“Bad vibes?” Lenny echoes. 

The coil is tight again. You think for a moment. “Uh, yeah. One of the tribes I live with believes in, um… vibrational energy, that kinda thing. When you look at someone and you get a bad feeling without knowing them that well, they give you bad vibes.”

“Hold on,” Lenny says. “Vibrational energy?”

You nod and continue to pull things out of your ass and curse Lenny for being scholarly. “Yeah. Life… um, well. I don’t remember the explanation too well. But I remember White Bird – the Sorrows’ shaman – saying…”

You tilt your head and look to the side and think for a moment.  “He said, “All life is music – all music is rhythmic – all rhythm is life.” And that somehow relates to vibrations. I don’t know, you seem smart. Maybe you can understand what he was talking about.”

“Well, I don’t know what it means, but it sure sounds pretty,” Lenny says. 

“They’re good people,” you say. “Maybe you’d like to meet them someday – if you’re ever so far west you’re in the desert, I mean.”

Why the fuck did I say that?! You curse yourself in your head. They’re not real! The Dead Horses and the Sorrows and Joshua Graham and Daniel are all made up! They’re fictional characters –

“I don’t know, maybe,” Lenny says. “For now, it doesn’t seem like we’ll be goin’ that far.”

You hum and pretend to act disappointed while you fight the urge to crumple in on yourself in relief. “That’s a shame. I’m sure you’d like them. They’re interesting people, especially the Sorrows. Though, Joshua…”

You trail off as you check over your shoulder. Hoofbeats, you’re pretty sure. And you’re right – Arthur and Charles are riding back into camp, a dead, snow-dappled doe on the back of each horse.

“Brought some food back, boys,” Arthur calls.

They both hitch their horses at the post and hoist the limp does onto their shoulders, carrying them over to the kitchen. 

You look back at Lenny and jab a thumb over your shoulder at them. “Should we…?”

“I don’t think so,” Lenny says. “From what I seen, Arthur’s a butcher – a mean one, at that. I don’t think he’ll like it if his work’s disturbed.”

“That’s fair,” you hum. (Secretly, you want to thank Lenny profusely. You already know that Arthur’s a mean man – you don’t want to see him even meaner.)

You check over your shoulder again. From where you’re standing, you can see an old man has taken your seat in the kitchen, and you can hear Arthur giving him hell for whatever reason. What was his name again… Uncle, maybe?

Unfortunately, your staring caught Uncle’s eye. He beckons you over with a wave of his hand. You give Lenny a quiet, polite “See you later,” and head over, trudging through the thick layer of snow that’s settled on the ground.

“Yeah?” You nod at Uncle as soon as you step into the kitchen. You sidle up to the fire, warming yourself with the smoldering embers. 

“Thought it’d do Arthur some good to see the…” – Uncle waves you up-and-down – “…wonders some modernity will do you.”

“What? Modernity?” You repeat back. You tell yourself to calm down – you haven’t been found out. (Not yet.) “I’m far from modern.”

“Why, you’re perfectly modern!” Uncle says. 

“You don’t even know me.” You scoff and turn away. 

Your eyes catch Arthur wrapping wire around the back ankles of one of the doe corpses. He pulls it taut, then hooks both legs to the deer hoist. He lifts it with a grunt and puts the hoist on the hook sticking out of the wall. You avert your eyes before he turns around. 

“Well, I mean…” You shrug. “I guess I’m… sort of modern? But I don’t see any issue with what Arthur’s doing. He’s just hunting.”

Arthur’s eyes fly to you again when you say his name. You wish that the Spanish Flu had come sooner so you could wear a facemask to hide your pursed lips and clenched jaw. After a moment, he looks away.

“What a surprise,” Arthur drawls, “to find the camp rat loiterin’ around in the kitchen, chargin’ dimes for his thoughts.”

He pulls away from the deer hoist and walks over to the fire. He keeps a healthy distance, but you can still feel some sort of heat coming from him when he stands next to you. You guess a man that tall and broad would be a furnace in cold like this. 

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Uncle asks. “I feel we haven’t spoken for days.”

“I do my utmost to avoid you,” Arthur retorts.

Charles approaches the fire, standing on your other side. He gives you a small look that says “Ignore them. They can, and will, go on for hours like this.”

Uncle looks over at you and laughs. “He loves me, really. It’s his… sad way of showing affection.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, it isn’t.”

You and Arthur turn to look at each other. You hadn’t meant to speak over him, and from the kind of-surprised look he’s sending your way, you think he didn’t mean to speak over you, either. You nod, gesturing for him to continue.

“It isn’t.” He turns back to face Uncle and waves a hand. “Now shoot, get lost.”

“Well…” Uncle shrugs and stands. “See y’all later.”

Pearson swipes a bottle from Uncle as he steps out. He then looks over at one of the deer. “See you got on just fine.”

Arthur nods toward Charles’ direction. “Charles is a wonder.”

“Have a drink, my friends.” Pearson holds out the bottle across the fire. “Ya earned it.”

Arthur takes the bottle after you wave it away. He takes a swig and sputters, coughing. “Jesus!” His voice cracks. “What is that?”

He passes the bottle to Charles, who sniffs the rim and takes a tentative sip. 

“Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing – the only thing!” Pearson laughs as Charles hands the bottle back. “Keeps you sane, it does.”

“Yes, seems to have done a treat on you.” Arthur glances at Charles and waves a hand in his general direction. “You go rest that hand, Charles.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days,” Charles says. 

He makes eye contact with you and nods towards the cabins, indicating for you to follow. You do so while listening to Arthur and Pearson talk about skinning the deer. (And you hide a smile when Arthur asks Pearson if he gets to skin him, too. He’s mean, but at least he’s funny with it.)

“You settling in okay?” Charles asks when you’re in a somewhat secluded area. It’s not all that isolated, but it’s out of earshot for most people.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks. For… y’know. Not being a massive asshole about everything.”

“You’re lost,” he says. (You notice he leaves out the very obvious “and scared” he could’ve tacked on the end.) “And you need help. It would be cruel not to give it to you.”

Yeah, totally! You think to yourself. You’re literally one of the kindest people alive and I’m… what? A scumbag that’s taking advantage of you? Oh, it’s so sweet that you’re ignoring the blatant lies I’m throwing in your face! Thank you, Charles! Thanks a fucking million.

“Still. Thank you,” you say instead. “You could’ve easily kicked me out in the snow and left me to freeze.” 

“We could’ve.” Charles looks out at the horizon. The way he pauses almost makes you think he’s considering it. “But we didn’t.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. You didn’t.”

Apparently, he doesn’t feel the need to reassure you or continue the conversation at all. After a few moments, you awkwardly hook your thumb over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna, uh…” You nod. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later?”

Charles is still looking out at the treeline, looking at the way the snow weighs down the leafless trees and the way even the smallest sound could disrupt everything. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

[dorki-c]

My Guardian Demon| Chapter 1, Part 3: Inheritance

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X (Reader)

Rating: 16+

A/N: I thought writing this part would be really hard...Nope. Not at all. I’m surprised! I hope you all enjoy!

TW: Brief mention of Fire, Swearing 

[Masterlist] [<— Previous| Next —>]

(Song recommendation for this chapter: All the good girl’s go to hell By Billie Eilish)

PROMPT QUESTION FOR THIS STORY ARC: Are all demons ‘bad’?

“But I’m not giving up on my dream, if you aren’t going to give up on yours.”

Alas, the gloriously golden sun highlighted the features of the old dusk that was soon turning into their new dawn.

(And might I say, if society got in their way, they will pay their dues the hard way.)

The two of them knew they had to paint the sky a fresh light blue, to develop the painting of the environment with creative splatters of white to resemble the clouds.

With the sun almost sliding to horizon’s edge, a cloudy vermillion mist (that was his demon) slipped into the view of the sun, highlighting their features but not letting a shadow smudge the surface of the pretty earth that the star ruled over.

“I know you won’t give up on your dream.” Even from three footsteps away, Izuku could still make out the multitude of voices mixed together. 

“So, I won’t give up on my own dream.” Although, even if one voice is made up of many sounds, that doesn’t mean it can’t resonate with tenacity.

“Got it!”

From a roof top of an apartment building to the lonesome streets below, it was still unbelievable to the middle schooler that he…literally met All Might.

(And that he had learned of All Might’s weakness.)

Nonetheless, after every battle we grow stronger.

(Right?)

------------------------------------

The days of our years always past through fingertips that have soaked in sin.

Yet, those who want to fight are the ones who shoulder said sins like an unlucky medal garnished in pure gold.

And how this medal got passed into Izuku’s somehow capable hand, who knows?

Where the demon stood at the back of the mass of people surrounding them, Izuku was at front of the crowd. A racing horse of many thoughts drowned his selfish needs and his demon’s hopeless demands.

How can he prove to society that he is capable to be a hero?  

How can he do it?

The scene of a filthy crime, the stage was set with a hostage and villain. One of them had manifested as a flaxen haired male, maybe around Izuku’s age? Though the moment the green-haired boy saw a familiar dandelion crackling outlining the big BOOM destroying the landscape around the hostage—he just started moving too fast for his demon’s claws to catch.

(T-That’s—that’s the same villain who attacked him!)

At first, a cold breeze of (what he believes might be) your hands about to catch him. Were you about to halter or allow him to write a new beginning?

(No, you weren’t stopping Izuku. Did you want to see this event play out?)

Sure, when the main act was about to end, maybe another new role can rush in and save the show.

Why were you staying behind? Did you approve of his actions? Izuku thought you hated it when he played the saviour role. Was he wrong?

(Izuku has never been a clairvoyant, however, he can be a saviour.)

Knocking and shoving past the innocently confused bystanders, visions of red scorching the surface of the road, the sight of that same gloopy villain cackling in satisfaction at the catch they managed to reel in.

“None of us have the right quirks to stop a villain like this!” The false heroes would always say.

“I’m not a real hero…” The Symbol of Peace may whisper to himself after saving many people.

“I want to be a hero!” Is the cry of a boy whose been doubted for his whole life.

Will he be successful in his attempt of grabbing “KACCHAN!” out of the sludge after throwing his yellow bag straight at the target?

(He ends up hitting the villain’s eye! Whoop! Whoop! Bullseye! )

If it wasn’t the summer sun of this fateful day.

Then it was the memories of childhood youth coming to ride the sailing riptide of the small green-haired boys kindness.

Where pebbles tumbled down the riverway above the stream of shallow river water travelling downwards was a large tree trunk pretending to be a safe bridge for the five children carelessly bumbling across it.

As the ringleader lost his footing and slipping down, down, down into the small riptide, if it wasn’t for the cicadas- clicking away with their summery sounds whilst they hide in the bushes- then a small splosh of water could’ve sounded like splashing into a large rain puddle.

(But it didn’t, instead the sound was nearly as silent as a dormouse sneaking into your fridge for cheese.)

Underneath Mother Nature’s bridge, casted a shadow blanketing the vermillion mist where the desolate being stood waiting for its owner to notice them, but the owner ignores the mist like he usually did and opts for helping the blonde-haired ringleader.

(He’s always helped people. (Y/n) can’t tell you when he hasn’t helped anybody.)

Extending his chubby baby hands, the green haired boy asked the blonde one “are you alright?” Though the demon knows that Izuku didn’t intend for that sentence to make the other child to narrow their crimson eyes.

However, whoever anybody is, Izuku will always extend a hand.

This does not exempt from his childhood friend, Bakugo Katsuki.

(This is what it means to be a saviour. Not a hero.)

The performance of a brave act had concluded with a boring aftermath.

(Like how can a demon say that watching All Might change the weather was exciting?)

Clobbered around Izuku’s tired form was a few (false) heroes who lectured him about how he should “be careful, because you could’ve easily died” to that villain.

(Though the demon had the audacity to scoff at the shitty remarks, if those heroes did their jobs properly and pulled Bakugo out of the villain’s grasps, then Izuku wouldn’t have had to.)

Let’s not forget, that Izuku was the one who had the guts to do what the heroes couldn’t do and that Bakugou was praised for his bravery.

What ‘bravery’ was there to show? If anything, those vermillion eyes showcased fifty shades of fear and that’s not tipping the iceberg of what those falsities had said about bravery.

(They were only boosting his ego.)

------------------------------------

“Do you think I did the right thing, (y/n)?” Izuku muttered out loud, although his demon was occupied with ignoring the ‘demon therapy’ poster that hung desolate on a lamp post and instead had the goal of catching a freaking butterfly.

When their hand reached out to grab it. They halted, turned towards Izuku, then asked “were you talking” because they were highly busy trying to catch an insignificant insect to notice that Izuku said something out loud.

“N-no! Don’t worr—” A rough, maybe a tad bit too loud of a bark cut Izuku off when he heard the familiar insult of “DEKU!” from the distance.

“Oh god, what does Bakugo want?” Izuku simply shrugged. Nobody really knows what Bakugo wants anymore. Is it validation? Pride? A sense of superiority?

Nobody, not even Izuku’s demon, could make out what he wanted by his little prompt speech about not owing Izuku a dime of gratefulness. With his whole act of calling Izuku a “quirkless failure who wouldn’t cut out to be a shitty rent-a-cop, even if he tried.”

Furthermore, how dare the blonde-haired boy think that Izuku was looking down on him. He first calls Izuku a “weakling” after all he had done, then accuses him that “he did nothing to help,” and then decided to strut off like the moody teenager he is.

(But what if you were mistaken to think he was moody?)

----------------------------------

When passing maybe two, perhaps three corners of rows with houses lined down the sides of the passageways, with boxed in backyards and the sun starting to lay its weary head down for a long desolate nap, Izuku was once again setting his mind straight and into autopilot.

“Hey Izuku?” You were asking the questions and he was answering back with his answers. Usually, you either stayed quiet or screamed at anybody (besides his mom) who dared to touch his precious face, so if he was guessing why you were asking him a question; it was because you were asking him an ‘important’ question (or so you labelled them to be important, because they seriously aren’t).

“Y-Yes (Y/n)?”

And of course, Izuku isn’t clairvoyant, so how would he know that your upcoming question was “what were the colours of the sky?” since your quite forgetful at times.

What? Why were you asking that question again? He’s told you a couple times before “there’s only one colour of the sky, its blue” but knowing you and your airheaded attitude, he has to stay patient. With your small nod to his answer, you seemed satisfied with the small talk until—

“I AM HERE!” Booms behind the green-haired boy (unexpectedly).

If it wasn’t for puberty, then Izuku could’ve lost his voice by the singlehanded scream of “ALL MIGHT! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!”

(And what’s the point of saying “I stand for justice!” when you can’t stand up in your hero form for five minutes before spewing blood from your mouth?)

All joking aside, when the pro-hero stood in front of Izuku in his rawest form, he had a statement to say for the green-haired boy.

“Young man, I came here to thank you and discuss your question.” What? All Might was giving up his time and energy to speak to him? A quirkless nobody?

Well…colour his demon’s pointed look at the worn-down man, in the richest colours of a rainbow. What does this pro-hero want with Izuku? .

.

.

“If you hadn’t told me about your life or had run into that fight, then I would have been a worthless bystander.” With the movement of his face allowing the thin-skinned cheek muscles to stretch his lips up to his onyx encircled blue eyes, All Might had presented the most sincerely painful smile he could muster in this small snippet of time.

Though, not surprisingly enough, this caught Izuku off guard. His expression paling as he frantically waved his hands about and only managing to utter the words of “N-no! No! It was my fault to begin with! If I hadn’t wasted your time and made you drop the villain t-then--!”

All Might cutting Izuku off mid-sentence was like a miracle out of the ninth circle of hell for (Y/n).

“I’m not done talking,” Hushing the 14 year old, All Might had continued his statement from earlier, “You told me you were powerless, so when I was standing in the crowd—watching this timid, quirkless kid rush into danger.”

The pro-hero paused in trying to find the right words.

“That inspired me to act as well.”

With a hand on his heart, the moment was truly overwhelming for Izuku.

“AND WITH THAT!”

All Might had poofed back into his hero form as soon as the sent his exclamation out to the world.

“I HAVE DEEMED YOU WORTHY OF INHERITING MY POWER!”

(Wait…what?)

The revelation of what the hero had unveiled to both the green-haired boy and his red demon was very confusing to process.

(And when did heroes become so self-righteous? Like jeez, calm down on that ego of yours All Might!)

Taglist:

@glitterfreezed, @izukubabe​, @sweater-weather-seven, @nyanyabisjjj, @quietlegends, @dragonsdreamoffire​, @candybabey​, @honeylavender13​​

CREDITS:

All content and art used within this story belongs to their respective owners. PLAGARISM WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!

Art credits: Dorki-C and @glitterfreezed​

[MASTERLIST OF “My Guardian Demon”]​ [MAIN MASTERLIST]

[forgeandgredimagines]

Never Going to Let Go『 Percy Jackson x Reader 』

Request: hello, I love your scenarios!! would you be so kind as to write a percy jackson x zeus!reader imagine where they used to date but now they miss each other because they never wanted it to end? like angst/fluff please, thank you! 💕stay awesome (Anon)

A/N: I wasn’t able to mention the reader’s godly parent or cabin but I hope this is alright for you! i hope you like this 💖(I just made up Mason on the spot while writing this but now I want to protect him uGh)

Warnings: None i think, maybe slight swearing

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist!!

You tried your best not to stare. You really did. But your eyes couldn’t help but move towards the raven haired male. He was only a few tables away but he felt so far away, there was a great chasm between you two.

It started off as a little crack, a minuscule little crack that you two could just ignore and work out together. But over time, you two gradually made that crack larger and larger until it was a canyon separating the both of you far out of one another’s reach.

Perhaps the two of you could have worked things out, that’s what all your friends said, that’s what Percy’s friends told him as well. But you two let it happen, you both gave up long ago and simply watched as the chasm only grew larger and wider until there nothing to separate anymore. There was no longer any connection to hold onto. You were alone now, and so was he.

Perhaps it’s for the best. You thought to yourself for the hundredth time that day. Well, more like convince yourself.

Someone called out your name from the entrance of the dining pavilion. You weren’t the only one that looked up when they did, though you weren’t aware of the watchful sea green eyes.

The person ran up towards your table and took the seat beside you. He ran a hand through his curly blonde hair and greeted you cheerfully.

“Hey, Mason.” You replied, smiling softly at the male. Mason was a friend of yours, you two only started talking a few months ago but you two had already gotten fairly close. The son of Apollo began chattering excitedly about something that happened to him earlier at the archery range as you poked at your food, providing a couple “Mhm"s and ”Is that so“s.

"Are you done eating? Why don’t we get out of here?” He offered. You nodded, you lost your appetite a long time ago anyway. You stood up and went to grab your plate when Mason took it instead. “I’ll carry this for you.”

“Oh, uhm, thanks.” You say, confused at this action. He only grins and ruffles your hair. You could hear some girls from the Aphrodite cabin whisper excitedly as they watched your interaction. Mason was fairly popular around camp and you could see why, he was tall, handsome and really nice, it was no wonder why he was such a heartthrob.

You didn’t know though that Percy was one of the curious onlookers watching the both of you as you laughed amongst each other.

You two headed towards the pavilion fire to tribute your leftover food to the gods. You tried your best to ignore Percy as you passed by his table, unaware of the glare he sent towards Mason’s hand that was on your wrists as he dragged you alongside him, he wanted to be quick since there was a volleyball game in a few minutes and he “—just can’t miss it! Come on let’s hurry!”

You laugh at his childlike manner and let him drag you out of the pavilion after he basically threw your food into the fire.

Sea green eyes followed you until you were out of sight.

-

The volleyball game ended just as quickly as it started. One team comprised of a child of Ares and child of Nike, while the other comprised of another child of Nike and a child of Hermes. It ended up being more of a brawl than a volleyball match so you and Mason decided to take a walk around the strawberry fields instead.

You were really fond of Mason, you really were. You enjoyed spending time with him, but a part of you felt like it was wrong. Especially when Mason gingerly laced his fingers between yours as he shyly looked away, hiding his reddening face.

When you two were in a more secluded part of the fields, he picked a few strawberries and handed them to you, his hand never leaving your own. He was now probably as red as the strawberries you two were munching on.

He was easy to talk to, easy to be with. It wasn’t complicated—no irate screaming or passive aggressive silence—like how you and Percy were near the end of your relationship. It still felt so wrong though.

“Listen—I—erm—” Mason started, you already knew what was going to happen, you both did. He stared into your eyes nervously and a burst of spontaneity seemed to rise inside him because he suddenly leaned over and kissed you.

It was a soft and fleeting kiss, innocent and small. Yet it brought tears to your eyes.

You weren’t crying because he wasn’t a good person but because he was one. A great one in fact. 

You didn’t get it, he was a wonderful person, one that you would definitely catch feelings for and one that you could actually see yourself being with. He was incredibly funny, thoughtful, clever, he just seemed perfect.

But he wasn’t Percy.

Anger towards both yourself and Percy would have welled up inside you if it weren’t for the overwhelming amount of grief and regret cancelling out your wrath. Tears of frustration continued to leave hot trails down your cheeks.

You were going to tell Mason the truth, you didn’t want to get his hopes up anymore than you already did, you’d only end up hurting him even more.

“Oh my gods, you’re crying! I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, that was so stupid of me. I’m really sorry, I’ll never do that again.” Mason exclaims, quickly taking several steps away from you in order to put a respectful distance between the two of you.

This frustrated you even more because he was so sweet, yet you couldn’t seem to find it in your heart to accept him.

Your heart was still with Percy.

“No, no, it’s not that, I just—” Then a swift hand latched itself on your wrists cutting you off mid sentence. 

You looked up to find sea green eyes, the ones you always thought of when you closed your own eyes, the ones that were now filled with fury.

“Can I talk to you.” He asked—well more like ordered—in a dark tone. “Alone?” He added, glaring at the unfortunate son of Apollo who was merely a victim caught in the crossfire in this situation.

“I—uhm—” Percy took this as a yes and began pulling you away from the fields and into the woods, far away from prying eyes and gossiping campers.

Your tears ceased as you followed the male, mostly out of shock. What could he want from you now?

Once you two reached a secluded area, Percy let go of your wrist and crossed his arms, visibly tensed and bothered.

“What—what do you want, Percy?” You manage to let out after a few seconds of stifling silence. A few more passed by, by then you were ready to leave.

“Are you two together now?” He finally asked, his tone as sharp as riptide. “How long have you been a—a thing?”

You guffawed at him. Then you clicked your tongue in annoyance, you crossed your arms now as well. “Why should you care, Percy? It really isn’t any of your business anymore.”

You two avoided each other’s gazes. “I know that, I just— don’t like him, don’t date him.”

You gaped at him. “And what makes you think that you had a say in who I date or not? You were the one that wanted to break up, you were the one that wanted to end things, and we both decided that we should stay away from each other so why are you doing this now?!”

You were practically yelling now, you could feel the nymphs and dryads that were nearby scurry away from your booming voice.

Percy retaliated with the same intensity. “That doesn’t matter, okay?! He won’t be good for you so just—just leave him or whatever!”

“Why don’t you just mind your own business, Jackson?! Why do you have to be so confusing? Can’t you see how painful this is, why can’t you just leave me alone like you said you would?” Hot tears were now trailing down your face, your voice quivered as you yelled.

Silence fell again as Percy lost his tense and stiff composure. His shoulders were now lax as his head drooped, his dark hair fell and covered his face from your view.

Your shoulders shook as you took in a ragged breath, you turned to leave when you heard what sounded like a sniffle.

Percy’s shoulders were shaking now too, he brought a hand up and wiped his face. “I can’t stand seeing you with someone else.” He said in a shaky voice, it was barely more than a whisper but you heard it nonetheless. “I feel so stupid, I never should have let you go. I’m so goddamn stupid.”

He let out a choked sob into his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Your tears came flowing more freely than ever as you took in what he just said. You hesitantly approached him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry too.” You choked out. Percy immediately wrapped his arms around your figure. He continued to cry into the crook of your neck and you into his shoulder, you both were like that for who knows how long muttering out cries of apologies and pleads for forgiveness.

All that mattered now was that he was back, and you were never going to let him go ever again.

[quirkdotcom]

Duality || HERO AU DABI X READER

PART ONE

PART TWO HERE

Triggers: Brief mentions of blood? 

A/n: Okay !!! I have finally finished this piece !! Sorry I took so long to actually write it, been a...long few weeks..but anyways ! Here we are ! I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing it, and as this was my first time actually writing for Dabi, I think in the future I'll be even better at him and his personality! Also I'll try to remember later to add a "Read more" thingy! 

××××××××

Your dreams had always been full of fire. Mesmerizing shades of blue always seemed to be flickering just beyond your reach. 

Most people asked you if you were scared of your dreams, however you only ever responded that the flames never hurt you in your dreams, and that you could never be scared.

They always felt so comfortable. The way they danced around you, enveloping you in warmth, had always been something you longed to figure out the reason behind...or the person behind it. 

Not only did the world have quirks in it, but also it held soulmates. Once someone touches their soulmate for the first time, the two switch quirks for twenty-four hours. How you longed for that interaction. For those twenty four hours where you would hopefully spend learning all about whoever your soulmate was. 

With a sigh, you slowly sat up in your bed, stretching your arms above your head as you yawned. It was about 9:30 at night, and it was time for you to make your way into the city, a long night of your own unofficial patrols to be done. 

Technically, some see you as a hero, while others see you as a meddling annoyance. But either way, they called you Riptide. 

You had a water based quirk, and with it you could take surrounding volumes of the liquid, and create vortexes of fast running water. 

At times it could be hard to control, and caused a lot of damage, hence why some saw you as a menace, but in the end, the water overpowered almost any villain.

Once you showered, and ate a quick meal, you walked back into your room, moving to your closet and pulling out the homemade hero suit. 

It wasn't the best thing around, but hey, it was better than running around in civilian clothes. The outfit itself was made from mostly dark blue or black material, so that you weren't easily seen, knee pads for taking falls, a mask to cover the lower part of your face, visor-esque goggles to shield your eyes from your own water and anything else that may be targeted to your eyes. 

You pulled on the components to the suit, slowly but surely making your way to being finished. 

Once on and ready to go, you grabbed your apartment keys, shoving them into a pocket and zipping it shut. With that, you made your way to the window of the living area, glad to be on the ground floor, and slipped out into the night. 

Almost immediately, people ran past you screaming, their shrieks piercing the air around you. 

You started off in the opposite direction of where they were headed, a smirk easily making its way onto your face as you picked up the pace. 

Finally you skidded to a stop once you drew close to the source. 

A villian with some sort of glass shard quirk was wreaking havoc onto the street, blocking traffic and he seemed to be holding a few people hostage.  

You couldn't be sure what he wanted but at this point, you didn't have the time to ask.

Instead you leaped into action, hopping onto the hood of an abandoned car, shouting out to the villian, "Hey ugly ! Over here!" 

He looked to you, his bright red eyes locking onto your eyes. 

"And just who are you supposed to be?" He sneered, his quirk lessening on the citizens for a mere moment.

You sighed heavily, placing a hand onto your hip, just above the section on your belt where a few small impact grenades hung. These you used to not only cause distractions, but also to target fire hydrants and cause them to let some water out. 

"Seriously? I figured by now someone would know my name…" You slowly undid the clip that held it to the belt,  keeping the villain's eyes on yours, "It's Riptide.  And you're about to be washed away," 

In a heartbeat, you pulled it off and pulled the pin, launching it just behind him. You launched yourself off of the car and onto the civilian, protecting them from the blast. 

Around you, cement shards fell and water began to spray. 

You pulled away, seeing that the villain had released them, "Quick, get out of here!" 

They nodded, eyes wide and moved away, once the ground was clear enough, they began to run. 

You turned slowly, eyes scanning for the villain, where did he-

Suddenly, you were propelled forwards as a boot kicked at the space between your shoulder blades. 

"You little bitch!" The villain angrily drew close to you, grabbing you once more and tossing you off to the side. Man, today must not be your day.

You stood quickly, ignoring the pain in your back, "Me? A bitch? Well I'm hurt! " you pulled your hands up, palms facing him. 

Within a moment, the water that was streaming from the hydrant was lifting off any surface it had been on, and now directly spiralling around your arms.  Once fast enough you grinned, "I hope you brought a floatie," 

Once the words left your mouth, the two vortexes shot forwards, pinpointing his chest and pushing him back with incredible force. He hit a wall, now unable to go anywhere. 

Before you could say anything or do anything more however, a sudden chunk of glass shot forwards, barely giving you enough time to dodge. It nicked your shoulder, a steady stream of blood making its way from the cut.

Just as another one came your way, it was stopped short by blue flames, the glass breaking and shattering into pieces within moments of it being engulfed by the fire.

You turned, eyes landing on a peculiar hero. 

He had black hair that stuck up in all sorts of directions, but beneath the hair, a set of gorgeous blue eyes peered out, scanning the scene. He had some sort of burn scars or skin grafts beneath his eyes, on his lower face and neck, and seemed to be along his arms as well. 

"You must be that hero who runs around and calls themselves 'Riptide', aren't you?" He questioned but didn't wait for an answer, he instead looked to the villian, "And who do we have here?" 

The villain, now soaked to the bone, pushed off the wall, three more shards of glass floating around his hand, "You're that Infernal Phoenix guy…" 

"That I am," the male hero spoke, not an ounce of fear showing in his eyes.

At once the fight seemed to pick back up, the villain letting loose the three pieces of glass, then caused the shattered ones from the wreck around the three of you to lift into the air, shooting down towards both the Infernal hero and yourself. 

The raven haired male leapt towards you, pushing you away, raising an arm up to attempt to use his fire once more. 

However, instead what happened was his arm was now covered in a swirling pool of water. 

In shock he let it all fall to the ground, eyes going wide as he thought quietly.  

You yourself had a million and one thoughts running through your head, but had to shake yourself of it, "There's no time for this, he's prepping for another attack," 

You stood up, holding your hands out once more, now watching as they lit on fire, but hardly burned you.  

"Be careful, don't let the flames get too hot, " he motioned with a nod of his head to his own arms. 

"Got it," you clenched your jaw, still amazed on the inside how easy his quirk had come to your control.

As the next set of glass rained down, you threw up a protective wall of flames, keeping it up for a few moments so that the hero could gather enough water. 

This time, the villain aimed two chunks of glass at you, noticing that you were the one making new attacks, not even stopping to question the change of quirks. 

You turned to aim more blue fire his way, but instead you found the fire clashing with the fast running water of what was normally your own quirk. 

With the two together, both the water and the flames died out, and you both found yourself dropping to the ground, instinctively covering your heads. 

Once the sound of glass hitting the ground stopped you quickly scrambled to your feet, now seeing the villain once more aiming chunks of glass, seemingly reusing the ones from earlier. 

In your hands, the fire lit back up, brighter than before, you charged him, grabbing onto his wrists and swinging him to the side, ignoring his scream of pain. 

Once he was on the ground, your knee on his back, you let the fire fade away, spotting a few burns here and there, the pain must have been masked by adrenaline. 

"I told you not to let it get too hot," the hero came up from behind, a few cuts on his face, and some on his hero suit. 

"Yeah well a few burns wont kill me," you eyed him for a moment, only stopping as reinforcements showed up, "Shit," you looked to the hero for a moment, shaking your head slightly. 

"I'll have to meet you again sometime...my show here is done…" you gave a wistful smile and climbed off of the villain, turning and taking off, running away from the scene, the shouts of heros filling your ears as they called for you to stop. 

But as you didn't quite have a hero license, getting caught using your quirk would have a few consequences that you weren't looking forwards to.

Once you were sure that you were away from all the action, you slowed to a walk, trying to even out your breaths. 

As you walked, you drew the attention of an elderly lady, who seemed to be on her way home from a shift at the nearest hospital. 

The woman looked at you, the suit you had on and the cuts from your fight, "Excuse me, but are you okay?" 

You gave a weary smile, "Ah...kind of?" 

The woman proceeded to pull out bandages, ointment and a few other items,  treating your injuries without even a second thought. In return, you took the time to walk her home, answering questions she had asked you about where you got the cuts, though you chose to leave a few things out. 

Once she was home, you made your way to your own apartment, deciding to turn in earlier than normal. Your apartment was quiet, a nice change from the night just beyond your window. With a heavy sigh, you made your way to your room, tossing your goggles onto the floor, kicking your shoes off and flopping onto your bed, falling asleep rather quickly. 

You were woken by the mid afternoon's sun. Its rays hitting your eyes from the slants in the blinds.  You must've forgotten to close them last night. 

You rolled over onto your side, quickly remembering that you were still in your suit from last night.  You slid out of the bed, pulling off the suit and changing into some everyday clothes. 

Then you moved into your bathroom, starting to brush your hair, taking a long look at yourself.  It was then that the whole memory of last night hit you. 

"Holy shit…" you paused, setting the brush down and making your way into the hallway, bringing a hand up and watching as a small blue flame began to flicker in your palm. 

With a newfound burst of energy, you sprinted into your bedroom, grabbing your phone and searching up the name, "Infernal Pheonix" 

On the screen a few results pulled up that sparked your interest. He was the son of the number one pro hero, Endeavour. He had graduated from the ever so prestigious UA, and was even rising the ranks as hero at the same agency as his father. 

You quickly copied the address of the agency, pasting it in the notes app of your phone. After all, you only had until somewhere around ten pm tonight to prove that it was you. 

With the burst of energy and the information at hand, you first grabbed your headphones from the nightstand, and then walked towards the door of your small apartment, slipping on your shoes before leaving. Though you did have to go back inside to grab your keys, almost having forgotten to lock the door. 

Now that you had everything, you turned on your playlist, putting in the headphones, and then, pasting the address into your maps app. With that, you took off. 

The busy city was actually nice for a change today, though at times you found yourself trying to hide your face in case anyone recognized you. 

About ten minutes into the walk, you stopped at a coffee shop, taking some time to decide on a drink for you and for the hero from last night. Hopefully he was a tea drinker, because you weren't sure what else to get him. 

Once paid for, you thanked the barista and left quietly, both drinks in hand. According to the map still giving you directions through your earbuds, you were almost to the hero agency. And as you grew closer, you noticed your heart beating a little faster.

Upon reaching the agency, you paused, trying to gather yourself as best as possible.  After a few moments, you shuffled the two drinks to one hand, pulled your earbuds out and hung them loosely around the back of your neck and over your shoulder, then pulled at the door, walking inside. 

The air was cool, and it was fairly quiet as you made your way to the main area of the agency. 

"Can I help you?" Came a stern voice, from a desk some feet into the room. It belonged to Enji Todoroki, the number one pro hero. 

You instinctively bowed, and stood back up, "I..I'm looking for Infernal Phoenix! I need to speak with him about..well about this," You again shuffled the drinks to one hand, and held out the other, carefully letting the flames spring to life. 

[marquiswrites]

Marquis’ Master List

* indicates smut/18+

“Can I borrow your Shirt” [Bucky x Reader] [Fluff]

“Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time”  [Sam & Reader, Bucky/Reader][Fluff]

“I Take Winner” [Sam & Reader, Peter & Reader, Bucky/Reader] [Fluff]

“Times Like This”  [Dorian Pavus/Original Male Trevelyan] [Fluff, Modern AU]

“Firelight” [Dorian Pavus/Original Male Lavellan] [Fluff]

Somewhere Over the Rainbow [Bucky x Reader, 1940′s Au, Angst]

White Christmas [Bucky x Reader, Christmas au, Fluff]

Drabble Master List

“Don’t Do Anything Stupid” [Bucky x Reader][Halloween Challenge][Angst]

Silk and Steel [Bucky x Reader]

Riptide [Bucky x Reader, Social Media Au]

Kinktober ‘19 [Bucky x Reader, Stucky x Reader, Steve x Reader] *

The Language of Flowers [Anders x Hawke]

Wizard Love [Stucky x Reader, Hogwarts Au]

Out of Time [Bucky x Reader, Soulmate Au, Time Travel Au]

Lights, Camera, Damnit [Steve x Reader, Pornstars Au]*

MarquisWrites100challenge