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piss-pumpkin · 8 months

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Swords and Skeletons (Percy Jackson x reader)

Child of Hades Reader, ~3.7k words, set ambiguously after Nico turns emo, and before HoO ig

People said Camp Half Blood would be different. They called it a place where demigods could be free, safe, make friends, be normal for a change, and train to survive in the real world. A few of those were true, you found. There was training, arenas with swords, ranges with bows, and all that. But not once after arriving were you ever made to feel normal. Apparently, children of Hades were treated differently.

From the moment the three headed dog of the underworld appeared above your head, the others looked at you less like a comrade, peer, or even friend, and more like an omen. You raise the dead one time at camp and people fall into hysterics. If they only knew the shit you were doing before camp.

You went to the beach, all the canoes were full, all spoken for, no room for you. You grimaced as you walked away. Sure, that may as well happen. The summer had just started and you already claimed your status as an outsiders

When you walked by the strawberry fields, the gardeners shot you odd looks, the bravest of which were as bold as to say you’d probably end up killing the plants. Like they didn’t know your dad was married to one of the plant and spring goddesses. Sure, why not?

Your first day claimed at Camp Half Blood was proving less than enjoyable. Just yesterday, with some Hermes kid giving you a tour, you were able to learn a few names, have a little fun. Now? Left alone to figure things out.

A satyr showed you to your cabin, its dark and oppressive structure shrinking you down. The satyr was quick to leave the moment your hand found the door handle. Typical. You rolled your eyes as you pushed it open.

It was much bigger than it needed to be, and remarkably dark. The few windows were covered with black curtains, and the overhead light shone dimly, as did the candles that were spread around.

According the Chiron, you had one sibling, a little brother who occasionally came to camp. You curiously approached the one bunk that was in use. Your brother seemed the neat type, the bed was made, with clean white sheets, black blanket, and a single pillow. The dresser beside it was filled with black clothes, even a black version of the standard camp half blood shirt. This guy really committed to the bit.

The only trace of personality was found in a few Polaroid photos sticking out from between the mattress and the bed frame. You couldn’t help pick one up to look at it. It was a very old black and white photo of a little boy and a girl. They looked like siblings. You put back the photo.

You barely noticed the room was still dark. Sighing, you made your way to a window to shine a little sunlight in.

You picked a top bunk on the other side of the room, and set your bag down. Completely moved in. You really needed more stuff.

When dinner came, you quickly found out that you had to sit alone now. Great. No longer with acquaintances you could hold a pleasant conversation with from the Hermes cabin, who seemed to be getting along just fine without you. Your brow furrowed as you sat down.

You picked at food. It was all good, the Camp Half Blood magic, and all, but your appetite was nowhere to be found. You halfway glared at the other tables, full of siblings, and even worse, the people who leaned back to laugh with friends at other tables. Maybe there was a good reason your brother didn’t come around often.

There was one guy though, that even in your soured mood, didn’t piss you off. Another person alone at their table. You watched him sceptically as as ate his… blue food, and texted with one hand. They said demigods couldn’t use phones? A bunch of people came by to talk to him as they were leaving the pavilion. Guess he’s popular.

He glanced up, eyes landing on you, probably sending your gaze fixed on him. Fuck. You were totally staring. You blinked, and shifted your gaze to the table in front of you, and hoped he didn’t notice, or pay much mind. You hastily finished, discarding your plate and retreating to your cabin.

Yikes.

…

As it turned out, you were not slick. The next day, when you were avoiding camp activities and the people who now awkwardly shuffled away from you when you tried to approach, you heard a knock on the door.

It was that guy. Of course it was. Who else would it be? Not your satyr, or any of the people from the Hermes cabin who were fine talking to you two days ago, not them. It was the guy who caught you staring at him. And you were here answering the door in your pyjamas.

”Hey,” he said happily, waving. “I’m Percy.”

You hesitated. “Uh,” you started, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Hi Percy, I’m Y/n.”

He smiled widely, and gestured behind him. “Do you have anything going on right now? Cuz I’ve been doing some swinging in the arena, I could always show you some stuff if you’re still new to it.”

He seemed rather friendly. You were hesitant to buy it. “Uh, I got a little lesson the other day from… some Hermes kid,” you ambled, crossing your arms.

He shrugged, “Suit yourself,” he said. “But feel free to stop by,” he started to turn away, but apparently had something left to say, and shit you one more smile. “I saw you had to sit alone yesterday,” he said. “I know it can be kinda hard to be a new camper and big three kid, especially Hades, so like…” he pursed his lips. “Don’t be a stranger, I guess.”

And then he was off, leaving you a little surprised. He was a big three kid too? You stood in the doorway watching him leave for a little longer than you meant too. You slowly stepped back inside. He didn’t seem put off by your staring, at least. But he noticed you were all alone with no friends. You couldn’t tell which outcome would be more embarrassing.

You looked it a window, and saw a few kids walking down the path. They seemed close, laughing together and telling jokes you couldn’t hear. Ugh. Maybe you did need to talk to people. Rotting in your cabin, lamenting, wasn’t getting you anywhere fun.

Groaning, you rooted around in your bag, and then the closet. There were spare black shirts. You snickered grabbing one off the hook and finally changing out of your pyjamas.

The sun was entirely too bright. You squinted as you made your way down the steps, using your hand to cover the light. Where did he say? The sword… arena? You found the first directional sign on the way, and followed it to a fairly large area, it’s ground solid, packed, and slightly dusty. Around it were mock colosseum stands, for watching the battles, you supposed. At the far side, was the guy, Percy, you now knew, swinging a sword viciously against a dummy. He seemed to be alone. A little odd considering his apparent popularity.

Sighing, half regretting coming out, you approached. It took him a moment to notice, but he grinned at you when he did. “Oh my gods, you actually came,” he said, surprised.

You did your best to put on a friendly smile, unsure why that was a difficult task. He’s probably the only one here who didn’t avoid you like the plague. “Uh, yeah,” you laughed nervously. “You said something about sword fighting?”

He nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yes,” he declared. “Let’s get you a weapon, I’ll give you the run down.”

You followed him towards a few weapons racks. “Well, I had a brief lesson the other day when I first arrived,” you said mindlessly, unsure why you kept resisting. You stood in front of the weapon rack. “Wait, is that a shotgun?”

Percy stifled a laugh, “yes, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said, going on to explain all the reasons why the various guns weren’t good tools. Something about celestial bronze, ammo, and other complaints. You nodded along idly, doing your best to listen. “So, I’d just go with one of the more… classic, weapons,” he finished.

You eyed them. Sword, dagger, mace, mallet, sickle, scythe, entirely too many options, leaving you paralyzed.

“If you go with the sword, I can probably show you some cool tricks,” Percy chimed in.

That was good enough for you. You took a bronze sword by the hilt, and raised it. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to just fight using my powers?”

”I mean, yeah,” he said, “if that’s something you can do.”

”Yeah,” You said. “I did that that on the day I was claimed.”

”On purpose?” He asked, brow raised.

You suppressed a laugh, covering your mouth with the non sword hand. “Yeah?” You said, like it was obvious. “Is that something people do by accident?”

Percy started towards the centre of the arena, and you followed as he explained, “A lot of demigods aren’t great at controlling their powers at first.”

You stood in front of him, mirroring his sword stance awkwardly, “well, it wasn’t my first time… I guess I’ve always kind of known I was a Hades kid, even before I knew what that meant.”

Percy pocketed his… pen sword, and came closer to you, moving your arms, gently kicking your leg to signal you to move. He adjusted the way you held your sword, thumb tucked around the handle. “If you hold it like this, you’ll have a better grip, and with wider legs, your more stable,” he said, pulling away again, and assuming the same stance. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled with a sigh once he was gone.

“If you can use your powers,” he said, wide grin. “Then don’t hold back, that’s what they’re for.”

“Uh, okay,” you stuttered, gripping the sword with white knuckles. “You’re not worried?”

He chuckled, “I mean, a little bit, but no more then I am when I fight Annabeth.” You nodded, and he smiled, and you pursed your lips, because it was a little charming. “Okay,” he started. “How much did they teach you before?”

”Little bit? Stances, I think. And… I know how to swing it,” you said dumbly, now realizing you were probably matched against a pro.

He didn’t judge though, instead moving beside you, and mimicked you exactly. He stepped forward with his front foot, and urged you to do the same. You followed his movement, doing your best to copy him, following his hops, slides, jabs, and slices.

A few half bloods walked by the path as you practised, a few waved at Percy, a couple of them even smiling at you. Proximity to somebody likeable, you supposed. A couple girls and one boy glared at you though, stopping to stare with crossed arms when Percy got close, or laughed at something you said. He didn’t seem to notice, luckily.

“Okay,” Percy said after a while. “You’ve got the moves now, all the basics.”

”I got the basics,” you echoed, nodding along. You were already a little sweaty, the sun beating overhead and your black shirt wasn’t helping.

“So do you want to try light sparring?” He asked.

“Sure,” you asserted. Readying your blade much more confidently than you did before. “Yes,” you nodded again, mentally preparing.

He grinned, “Alright, don’t go easy on me.”

And you didn’t. But you could tell he was going easy on you. You slashed, he blocked, you stabbed, he dodged, you lunged, he parried. Shit, this guy was pretty good.

You thought back to what he said about powers. Time to get a little fun with it. What did you have under control? Really just summoning the dead, the rest you’d only done by accident, like Percy asked before.

Percy took advantage of your thinking to quickly slide forward and swing at your side, a blow you were barely able to block, your own blade wobbling as you barely redirected the attack.

You pivoted back, and jabbed your sword into the ground, opening a vein to the underworld… or something. You weren’t exactly sure how it all worked.

You had to duck and roll as Percy slashed forward while your sword was down. It appeared he was working your training wheels off.

A few skeletons popped their heads out of the hole and grumbled, “Got anything good?”

Fuck. Last time you had food to offer them. “Not now,” you said, dashing to your feet away from Percy and pulling your sword from the packed dirt. “But after this I can get you anything you want!”

Percy laughed, possibly at your desperation, and started to lunge again as the skeletons deliberated and discussed whether they’d help you.

“Oh my gods!” You shouted, blocking a strike and trying to throw one of your own. Percy seemed to dodge it with all the ease in the world. “Get your pussy asses out here and help me, you useless fucks, there’s good shit in it for you!”

They grumbled, but climbed out of the vein. Five skeletons, you counted as you hopped out of the way of Percy’s sword. “Okay!” You yelled. They were just standing there like assholes. “Fight him!”

The skeletons complied, but not before the apparent ring leader made a snide comment about your tone, claiming you had anger issues.

But the skeletons did fight for you, circling Percy and readying their firsts. They didn’t have weapons, and before you could yell at them to go to the rack, they were already attacking, flailing at Percy wildly.

You were allotted a moment to catch your breath as Percy dealt with it. Even without weapons, they were doing an alright job, but Percy was quick to react and form a new strategy. He ducked out of their circle and beheaded one of them. The skeleton groaned out a complaint as the skull rolled towards you.

You pursed your lips. Percy used every opportunity you gave him to strike, even if it was cheap. Your turn. You crept behind him as he dealt with your small army, and raised your sword.

But fuck, was Percy reactive. He turned on a dime and swept your leg, sending you tumbling to the ground, knocking the wind out of you with an oomf. Groaning, you rolled over on your side and wheezed out what was left of your breath, and did your best to suck in another.

”Oh, shit, Y/n, are you alright?” He asked quickly, kneeling down beside you and discarding his weapon.

Before you could nod, the skeletons whacked him out of the way. Oh right. Percy was sent tumbling to the ground, completely unready for the attack.

He scrambled to grab his sword again, but with a little strength, you waved off your undead defenders. “It’s cool guys,” you wheezed, still in the ground.

They looked at each other dumbly. “Can we have our food now?”

You glared and coughed. “Not now, go back in the hole, I’ll get you later,” you spat.

They had a few complaints, but eventually crawled back in the hole, as requested. And Percy was right back at your side, sword gone, water bottle in hand and offering it to you. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, offering you a hand. You took it, and he pulled you up to a sit. “I got a little carried away,” he admitted, handing you the bottle.

He looked at you with concern in his eyes, and you coughed once more. Hopefully the last time. “I’m good,” you managed, shooting him a smile. Or at least trying to.

”Do you think you need to go to the infirmary?” He asked.

You shook your head. Your breath was already coming back, and other than that all you had were a few bruises. “It’s fine, really,” you said.

He looked like he doubted you, but he said nothing, instead pressing his lips together, and slumping down to fully sit beside you. “I started to forget this was your first time fighting.”

You laughed, and it only hurt a little bit, “That means I must be pretty good, right?” You screwed open the cap of your water bottle, and took a drink. One gulp and you were suddenly aware of the dryness in your throat, and had to down half of it to quench yourself.

Percy smiled, a water bottle of his own in his hand. “Hey, you’re not bad for a newbie,” he laughed. “Sorry again. I can let you beat me to make up for it, if you want.”

You choked out a laugh, “You won’t have to let me next time, alright?”

He laughed. ”I’ll hold you to that,” he smiled, taking a swig of his water and wiping away sweat. “You really did hold your own.”

You nodded, unable to form words for a moment. You gasped for breath after choking a gulp of water. “Thank,” you heaved. “For helping. Couldn’t have survived more then a minute without you.”

He smiled softly, “it’s no problem.”

”You’re the only one to even try.” The bitterness from earlier was creeping back. Percy was a friend, now, you were certain. The only one.

He pursed his lips, and looked at the ground. “Yeah…” he started. He looked like he had more to say, but seemed to trail off.

“I appreciate the effort,” you said, lightly kicking the hilt of your sword.

He nodded lamely, “It’s no problem, really.” He sighed, and looked around at the empty arena, and the trees and fields surrounding it. “I have some friends that’ll get to camp soon for summer, they’re school and… stuff… ends a week after mine,” he said, looking straight ahead. “They’re cool, you’ll get along. Not everyone is scared of a Hades kid.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “Uh, that’s good to hear,” you managed. “I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed by… everyone.”

He looked over at you, and you fought the urge to look away, like he caught you staring again. “They’ll come around when they realize you’re cool,” he assured. Then you had to look away, because your lips were being tugged up in an embarrassingly large smile.

“I hope so,” you said timidly, smiling at your shoes.

Percy laughed, “People were weird around me, too, when I first came to camp,” he admitted, fidgeting with his pen. He twisted and spun it through his fingers, only occasionally dropping it. “Clarisse wanted to kill me, Annabeth was stalking me, a bunch of people were kinda scared of me? And I always had to sit alone at dinner.” He said, faint smile on his lips, like reminiscing. “It was a lot, I get what you’re going though… kind of.”

You nodded along with his story. “And… you managed to make friends with them anyway?”

Percy laughed, “Well with Clarisse I’d say it’s still up in the air, but I guess we’re more friends then we are enemies nowadays.”

You smiled, staring at your shoes. “Well, that’s good,” you smiled softly.

“The same thing will happen to you, done worry,” he said, lightly punching your shoulder. You snickered at his touch, punching him right back.

“If you say so,” you giggled. Your black shirt was damp with sweat, and stuck to your back. “I’ll try my best.”

He shook his head, “you won’t have to, they’ll like you as is.”

You heart fluttered a moment. You were really starting to get why people glared at you earlier, for spending so much time alone with this guy. You smiled, doing your best to not feel awkward. “Thanks, Percy.”

He smiled, and stood up, dusting himself off and offering you a hand. Once again, you took it, and this time noticed his callouses, probably from years of this exact type of training. He had a strong grip. “Let’s say we’re done sword practice for today, okay?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, picking up your blade and bringing it back where you found it.

You walked together to the dining pavilion. You had actually worked up an appetite today. The place you felt so alone last night, you now approached with a friend, and the promise of a friend group. And you got a few more sceptical looks from other campers, but that all melted away when Percy would wave or snap a finger gun at them.

And you realized your previous judgement was wrong. Camp Half Blood might not be so bad, and maybe you could feel okay. Despite the skeletons, this might have been the most normal day in a while. Maybe Camp Half Blood would be different. Not because of the place, the god overseeing it, or any of that. But because Percy was different. Apparently his friends to.

You broke off from him to find your table and get a plate, and this time, didn’t feel too bad about staring at him. You realized that table was the Poseidon table. Definitely one of the big three gods. He caught you staring again, and this time he waved, and you glanced around.

You got up, plate in hand and walked over. “Do we like, half to sit at our table, or…?” you asked, tilting your head side to side. You couldn’t help look at his food, all of which was blue.

He looked around, eyes wide, “Well it’s against the rules to sit at another one…” he said, looking at the other tables, many full. “But, like,” he said, “it’s not a rule I haven’t broken before.”

You smiled, sitting across from him, “good enough for me,” you shrugged. You got a few weird looks. Just a couple. But dinner was always better with a friend. This summer was looking to be a good one.

I actually got this one done in like a single day,,, that’s not usual for me. *mwah*

#x reader #my writing #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo x reader #percy pjo #percy jackson x you

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squoosheez · 10 months

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Lavender Haze

Peeta Mellark x Reader

summary: You wake up in the bed of none other than Peeta Mellark. Frantic that you’re gonna miss your train, you recall the events of the previous night.

setting: The last night of the victor’s tour. It’s the after party and you’re completely wasted, so Peeta takes you up to his room to get cleaned up.

pairing: Peeta Mellark x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, drunk sex/dub-con, p in v, reader’s an absolute menace

notes: i didn’t put too much effort into this but i hope it’s not horrible 😭 short n sweet ig

word count: 3.1k

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socials: ao3

You feel your head pound as you down your second Advil of the day. It’s quite evident now that you should not have gone to that after party. Another reason to support your claim is the fact you don’t know where the fuck you are.

Usually, you would’ve called yourself an Uber by now, but the pounding in your head was enough to make you stay just long enough to locate the nearest pain medication. You scan the room, trying to find any sign of where you may be. It’s definitely in the Capitol. Yesterday was the last day of the Victor's Tour, and the train doesn’t leave until.. well today. You feel panic start to set it.

The train. You completely forgot how important it was to know where you end up the morning of the after parties. The train. You spring up from the barstool and sprint back into the bedroom from whence you came.

Your heart pounds as you attempt to gather all your things. The tight, black, sequin dress you wore last night paired with some black stiletto heels. You don’t remember much, but you remember they hurt. You fumble around, reaching for your bag and not really bothering to change your clothes. That will definitely stir up your fans.

You move groggily around the room after you pick up all your belongings. As you start to make your way towards the door, you see the handle turn and hear a set of keys jingle on the other side. You take a step back as the door opens to reveal none other than Peeta Mellark.

You let out a sigh of relief as you run into his arms. He shoots you a confused look, but embraces you in his arms anyway. Before he can get a chance to speak, you drag him to the ground. He lands on top of you gracefully, giggling and laughing without knowing why.

“Oh, Peeta. I was so scared I was gonna be late, and I think I slept with a stranger last night.” You groan into his shoulders. Your words cause a piercing laugh to escape Peeta’s lips. You look up at him in confusion.

“It wasn’t a stranger,” he remarks. It all comes flooding back to you. You can’t tell whether to be relieved or panic even more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment as you think about the consequences of your own actions.

You gently slam your head against his marble countertops and make a loud noise that can only be described as a wail. Your dramatics are not making Peeta feel any better about the situation. He is sitting on the couch, watching the screen attentively while you rethink your entire life decisions.

Through all the blurred vision and distorted noise you recall happened last night, you finally start to remember what exactly had happened after the party.

It was a normal after party, except much more extravagant. It was the after party after you visited the presidential mansion. The party with the president was nothing less than over the top, but it still seemed very strict. You had to put on a good show and pretend like you were enjoying yourself the whole time, despite experiencing quite the opposite.

The after party was much more laid back. More drinking, less talking. You danced until your legs couldn’t hold you up, which ultimately led to Peeta carrying you up the stairs and to his bedroom. His bedroom?

He laid you on the bed and started to run you a bath. You squirmed around trying to decipher whose bed you were in. You heard the running water and decided it’d be nice to take a bath. That’s when you felt the vomit stirring up in your stomach. And in just a second, it’s out of your stomach and ruining Peeta’s brand new sheets.

He immediately rushed into the room and lifted you up, trying to keep you from completely coating yourself in puke. He sighed hard and had you sit on the toilet while he cleaned the mess you so generously made.

Alcohol poisoning was not unfamiliar to you, with all the parties in the Capitol, this was a normal occurrence. Peeta doesn’t enjoy cleaning up after you, but you’re his best friend, so he puts up with it. Though, you’re almost as bad as Haymitch at this point.

Once he’s finished stripping the bed and putting a set of fresh new sheets on it, he returns his attention towards you. You’re mumbling something barely audible and Peeta gives you a laugh in response. Due to your puking incident, he didn't want to put you in the bath first. He grabs the shower head off of the shower and ushers you into the shower.

You whined, thinking you were gonna get a bath. Before he gets the chance to ask you, you’re struggling to discard your clothes. Your shirt is stuck on your arm, and he just giggles at your useless attempt. His hands help to lift the shirt above your head, revealing your curvy figure and shimmery skin. You murmur something about staring and he gives you a forced laugh in return. He then softly asks you if you can remove your pants, in which you have no shame in doing. It makes his face grow red and his ears grow hot.

He turns on the water, and allows you to rinse yourself off at first. This quickly goes to shit when you try to spray him in the face. He wipes the water from his face, and discards himself off his sopping wet shirt.

You’re a giggling mess as Peeta hoses you down, your body barely being able to stay up against the wall of the shower. Once Peeta decides he’s gotten all the puke off, he escorts you towards the bath. Your body sinks in and the warm water feels so good on your skin.

Peeta reaches over to grab a clean plastic cup. He scoops up some water and instructs you to close your eyes. He pours the water over your head, wetting down your hair so he can wash it. He squirts a bit of shampoo onto his hand and rubs it gently into your scalp. He does the same with the conditioner on the ends of your hair. He takes the cup again and rinses the suds out of your hair. You look up at him every now and then, giving him a beautiful smile that always gives him butterflies.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says as he finishes rinsing the last of the soap out of your hair. You grab a bar of soap and begin to rub it over your body, but you get tired halfway through. You place the soap on the side of the bath closest to him, assuming he would take it and finish scrubbing you.

His breath hitches. He looks at you with a disappointed look on his face. “I can’t help you here. You can do it,” he encourages. Obviously, since you’re drunk, you take this statement as he doesn’t want to help you and wants to leave you here completely defenseless. Tears well up in your eyes and you choke on your tears. Small sniffles can be heard as Peeta immediately tries to comfort you.

He whispers reassuring words in your ear as you continue to cry. He decides against making you wash yourself and just helps you out of the bath. He grabs a towel and dries off your hair before wrapping it around your body. You shiver at the cold air hitting your wet skin, but you’ve stopped crying. So that’s a plus.

His hands guide you onto his bed, most of the guests have already left. The music volume has decreased greatly and only faint conversation can be heard. Peeta just hopes no one comes up here with you laying in his bed.

For some reason, you’re still wide awake. You wait to feel Peeta’s warmth climb into bed beside you to fall asleep, but he’s taking way too long for your liking. You throw your legs over the side of the bed and make your way over to the closet. Without even bothering to ask if he’s in there, you pull the door wide open to reveal Peeta’s almost naked body. He’s standing there in nothing but a pair of boxers while he tries to pick out a pajama shirt.

Your cheeks flush an embarrassing shade of red. He quickly shuts the door back and throws the first shirt he sees over his head. When he opens the door again, you’re sitting in front of the closet with tears running down your face. He immediately crouches down to be on your level. He wipes a tear from your cheek and speaks softly. “Hey, It’s okay. You wanna head to bed?”

You nod and let him pick you up and carry you onto the bed, placing you there gently. You feel your body relax as he climbs into the bed next to you. He allows you to lay your head on his shoulder as he turns the TV on. He watches as you drift off into a soft sleep.

Later in the night, Peeta awakes to find you moving around in your sleep. Tossing and turning, mumbling words that he can’t quite make out. It’s not until he hears you breathe out his name that he comprehends what’s happening. He curses under his breath.

Your body is facing him, the towel slipping off your figure as you continue to squirm around. He debates waking you up or just letting you enjoy your dream. He takes a deep breath in, feeling his own arousal building in the pit of the stomach. It feels so wrong to watch you like this, so he wakes you up.

You hear his voice whisper gently and your eyes flutter open. You let out a whimper of disappointment when you realize your dream is finished. The disappointment slowly fades away at the sight of Peeta. You smile and place a messy kiss directly on his lips. His eyes widen at the action.

He lets the kiss linger before breaking it gently. Your eyes are fixated on his lips and his biceps. You let out an involuntary whimper in the absence of his lips. All you can manage to say is name.

Peeta groans against the crook in your neck. His breath is warm against your cold skin and it sends shivers down your spine. You can still feel the lingering effects of intoxication as his hands travel up and down your body. You allow his eyes and hands to explore every inch of your body he can as you indulge in the sensation.

“Peeta,” you whisper softly. His eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Yeah?” He says quietly. You bite your lip as you feel your arousal swelling in your lower stomach, heat radiating from in between your legs.

“Touch me,” your voice shakes as you look up at him with pleading eyes. His expression is tense. He wants it so bad, but it feels wrong. He wants you to want him when you're sober. He wishes you would ask him these things when you’re not drunk.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Almost every time you get drunk Peeta cleans you up and holds you close and you try to get in his pants. Every time, he tells you no. Usually you take it pretty well, but for some reason you seem extra emotional today. He fears what may happen if he denies your request.

It’s an inner conflict for a moment before you decide to take matters into your own hands. Your hands travel down from his chest to the band of his boxers. He bites his lip as your body moves in closer. The towel is slowly slipping off your frame and it’s much different from how you looked when he was bathing you.

There’s a hunger in your eyes. Dark and cold. Your lips connect again and you can still taste the traces of tequila in his mouth, he’s far less drunk than you are, but the taste makes you long for more. You completely discard yourself off the towel. You have zero intentions of dragging this out.

You flip around, landing on top of him. Your hips straddling his thighs like they were made for him to be in between them. He’s completely taken aback by your movements, and he doesn’t even try to stop you anymore. You grind your hips against the growing bulge in his boxers, soaking them with your dripping arousal.

Peeta mumbles curses every now and then while you continue to grind relentlessly into him. You pull him in for once last sloppy kiss before he takes matters into his own hands. He pulled you towards him, immediately suctioning one of your nipples into his mouth. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. You let out a loud gasp as his hand roams freely on your body. They make their way to your throbbing clit, giving it the long awaited attention it deserves. Your back arches and you let out another loud moan at the action.

“Fuck me, Peeta.” Your words slur together, reminding him you’re still intoxicated. He buries the shame of his desires deep down and gives you a small smirk.

His hands travel down towards your ass, giving it a hard slap (that definitely left a mark). Your chest heaves as his hands squeeze and grip at your ass, and all you can think about is taking him so deep.

“Of course, baby.” He responds, his breath shaky and far from stable. You scoot up to give him room to slip off his underwear. He pulls them down to his ankles and you can feel his erection spring up to hit your ass. You smile as you breathe out another soft moan.

You move back to your previous position, his cock hitting your stomach with every small movement. You give him a couple strokes, watching as his expression grows more needy. Your thumb traces over his slit, earning a lewd whimper from Peeta’s throat. You lean over placing yet another kiss on his neck, sucking a dark hickey on his pale skin.

You position him near your entrance, sliding his cock back and forth between your folds, teasing him ever so slightly. He lets out a hiss as you finally sink yourself down on him. Your back arches as his cock fills you to the brim, legs shaking while you try to hold yourself up.

The room is filled with ah’s and mm’s as you pick yourself up and slam yourself back down onto him. He hits your g-spot, but only softly with very little effort. His hands guide your hips in a circular motion. He grits his teeth as you let out a moan that can only be described and slutty when he slams straight into your sweet spot. Tears well up in your eyes as your hand moves to circle your swollen clit.

Peeta gives your ass another slap, causing a string of profanities to slur out of your mouth. Your whole body feels like it’s floating. The pleasure is unimaginable. His sweaty blonde hair sticks to his forehead and you watch as he fucks up into you, letting small groans escape his lips occasionally. “You’re so tight,” Peeta hisses.

Your moans echo throughout the room, flooding Peeta’s head with the sounds of your pleasure. He feels the bubbling in his stomach grow stronger when he feels your walls clench around him. He curses under his breath and continues to use his hands to force you down on him.

Tears, drool, and sweat drip down your face, creating a mixture that cannot taste good. Peeta doesn’t mind. He pulls you down and connects your lips in a sloppy, wet, unorganized kiss. You don’t know how he manages to do it. He drives you crazy with every movement and you cannot get enough of it.

He continues to pound into you, your knees lock and you let him fuck you as hard as he can. A few shrill moans leave his throat as his climax approaches rapidly. You feel the same, your moans becoming much more erratic and louder. His thrusts become sloppy and less careful. He speeds up and your back arches as you feel his cock pulsate inside you.

“Peeta- I’m gonna, fuck—” you barely manage to give him a warning before your orgasm takes over. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you swear you see stars. Peeta’s face is concentrated, beads of sweat pouring down his chin, needy moans escaping from behind his lips.

He can feel his own orgasm building as you grab onto his biceps for support. It’s all too much and more tears stream down your face as the overstimulation sets in. You feel his body tense up and he pulls out as fast as you’ve seen any guy pull out. He gives himself a few fast strokes before cumming all over your tits. “Jesus.”

Peeta almost collapses on top of you, stopping himself before he accidentally crushes you. He locks your lips in a gentle kiss this time, not as messy or needy as before. He gives your nose and forehead a matching kiss as well. He brushes your hair behind your ears and you shoot him a ridiculous smile. The last thing you wanna do right now is move. You close your eyes as Peeta walks over to the bathroom. You hear the sink running and can only assume he’s wetting down a rag.

You’re right, of course. He places the rag in between your breasts, wiping away any of the cum residue he left there before placing another kiss right in between them. You giggle softly and pull him down towards you.

Your cheeks flush read at the sight of a completely fucked out Peeta Mellark. You feel a little proud of yourself as he swoops in for one last kiss before pulling you closer. You fall asleep knowing you’re in the arms of the man you feel most safe with.

That’s when you’re snapped back into reality. Peeta rushing around the room frantically trying to gather all his things and Peeta calling to alert the two of you the train’s arriving in twenty minutes. Your face is hot and you’re clearly embarrassed at the acts of your drunk self, but Peeta just seems to try to ignore them.

You try to regain control of your thoughts when Peeta breaks the silence. “Everything alright?” His voice is sincere and coarse. Just like it was that night.

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

#peeta mellark #peeta x reader #peeta smut #peeta mellark smut #peeta x y/n #alternate universe #you’re besties #lavender haze #wet dream #p in v

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platonicmoonwater00 · 1 day

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I see these everywhere. and i mean EVERYWHERE. and also i need motivation so lets go ig

10 notes- i'll drink on weekends too(i forget cos on weekends im just at home and not at school lugging around my frank green in my tote bag)

20 notes- i will(try to) pay attention in class

30 notes- i'll watch my whole watch later playlist on yt

50 notes- i'll actually do the techniques im learning in ✨therapy✨ to help with my anxiety and shitty social skills

75 notes- i'll take my iron tablets every day

100 notes- i'll start my assessments when i get them(i have one due tomorrow which i was gonna finish now but i'm doing this apparently)

125 notes- i'll ask my crush to hangout alone during spring holidays

150 notes- i'll try to go for a run or at least a walk every day

500 notes- i'll write another chapter of my fanfiction

1k notes- i will actually make an effort to get clean

2k notes- if i see someone pretty that i want to go out w in public i'll ask for their number cos holy fuck i need to put myself out there. even if we js end up being friends cos holy shit im lonely

3k notes- i will actually finished the dress i started making

4k notes- i will try to get over my crush cos its ✨never gonna happen✨(she so pretty and masc tho its gonna be hard)

5k notes- (this is so far up here cos idk how to do this so im gonnna need a lot of time to figure out how) im gonna try to demolish the rumour that im gay thats going around a bit.**

6k notes- i will finish all my crochet projects and not start any new ones until im done.

**context. i go to an all girls school and theres a lot of people so its not like everyone knows everyone, even in my year(theres approx. 174 in my year alone, and theres 6 year groups at my school cos high school is 7-12 where i live) but some people know me ig cos i know a few girl who are more notable, im in the top class and i recdntly started sitting with a group that the popular girls call furries.

(theyre a pretty big group and popular girls hate them cos one or two of them are trans - ftm, ftnb etc, no mtf cos my lovely/s catholic school wouldnt let trans girls in- several of them are gay, a few of them are emo, most of them are poc's and a few of them dont have english as their first language. overall they are seen as the "weird kids" in my year)

so this rumour apparently is going around that i like a girl in my class(i absolutely do but if you havent noticed my school is hella hoomophobic and i could very well get beat) which js isnt ideal and is gonna lead to a lot of issues, especially if a lot of people start believing it so if you guys have any advice pls lmk. and its not like i can js get a fake bf and show him off cos its a GIRLS SCHOOL. if i reconnect with a friend from primary school tho we could pretend to be dating and like make a post on social media. but then kids at his school would find out and hed either have to tell them its fake(which would eventually find its way back to my school, and when i say eventually i mean immediately) or he couldnt get a girlfriend so that probs wouldnt work.

i know it sounds like im making a mountain out of a molehill but ive got years to go here and i dont want to spend all my high school years getting bullied bc even if i went to a teacher about it or smthing id have to like analyse them first and try to figure out which ones are homophobic or not.

like learning about why "being gay is a sin"(pretend im saying that really mockingly) is literally in our curriculum.

holy shit that was longer than expected.

no pressure tags: @wishiwereheather13 @loserboyfriendrjl @fracturedsunsets @chasingthemoony @stars-and-leather @starsofleo

thats all im doing idk how you guys can stand js copy and pasting moots over and over i cant do this i did the first six that came up and that seems like enough 🤷‍♀️

begun doing

going to do

finished

#note challenge

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54prowl · 5 months

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!!! BRIGHT & BLOOMIN' !!! [CLOSED]

Prep for spring cleaning by getting yourself new artwork for the season! 🌸🍃🌻

Answer the Google form HERE then DM for more info.

Different layout requests are accepted for your specific needs.

Payments will only be accepted via ko-fi.

Any questions? Send them my way!

!! please follow and reblog !!

twt | ig | ko-fi | past comms

#commissions #commissions open #art commissions #signal boost #tumblr commissions #54prowl #prowlle #prowlle art #prowlle comms #prcomms #spring2024

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garoujo · 2 years

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・✶ ｡ﾟbachira is only doing what good step-brothers do.

♱ warnings — f!reader, stepcest, stepbro!bachira, he joins you in the shower, grinding / pussyjobs that lead to more, talk of panty-stealing, he’s a little pervy ig, teasing, all characters written 18+. / note. can’t get him n this out of my head grrrr <3

your step brother bachira had always been close with you, it was something you’d just gotten used to — he was charming and touchy but that was just the sort of person he was, always by his pretty little step sisters side just incase you needed him to help you out.

you both were basically attached at the hip, always by eachothers side at every given moment — so it was rare for you both to be apart, even for a few moments because he made sure you never were. even when you finally return home for the day and let yourself strip off your clothes, climbing into the shower for some well deserved you time.

“i gotta pee! lemme in, come on—i’ll be quick!” bachira calls from the other side of the door, cheeky grin in place when he opens the door without even giving you a second to respond—he’s just your step-brother afterall, what have you got to hide?

“bachi! i’m almost done, you could’ve just waited..” you gasp as you pull round the shower curtain, but you’re not quite quick enough for his wandering eyes. he still got a good glimpse of your pretty body, beads of water decorating your skin — you’re basically fucking luring him in, the needy twitch of his cock is impossible to ignore when you’re already so close. so ready.

bachira had gotten bored of fucking his fist to you afterall, it wasn’t the same as having the real thing — even when he’d find himself in your room, pocketing pairs of your panties so he can wrap the lace around his sensitive shaft as he sinks into your mattress to stroke his cock — whimpering and whining at the feeling of being so close to you as he stuffs his face into your pillows, but it’s not enough.

he could still be closer, bachira realises as he lets his own clothes pool around his ankles — leaking cock springing up to smack against his abdomen with the sudden, sexual freedom before he’s suddenly pulling back the shower curtain to elicit a scream from you as you shield yourself. “bachi! what the fuck!”

“we’re just saving water, come on—it’s what good brothers do, kay? gotta make sure you’re extra clean sis, mhm..” he’s too convincing with the sharp look in his eyes and the good-hearted smile he gives you. but you still pout as you turn your back to him, letting him squeeze some shower gel between his palms before he’s lathering it into your body.

“i bet that feels good, yeah? just gotta get a lil closer, gotta make sure i get it all in good.. m’kay?” there’s a carnal drop in bachira’s tone as he feels your slick skin beneath his palms, letting his hands smooth sensually along your skin in a way that has you melting and pushing into his touch.

but he takes the opportunity, the drop in your guard to close the distance — just enough for his cock to graze through the hug of your thighs, the water doing wonders for the way his shaft teases along your folds until you’re jolting. “w-what..”

“shhhhh, baby. ‘ts fine! ‘m just taking care of my sister, lemme rub it in a little more.” bachira feels you stiffen slightly before his hips stutter again, pushing his cock through your folds until the first graze of the head against your clit makes you relax, whimpering at the tight kiss of his body against your spine.

“we shouldn’t bachi..” you gasp, but you let him turn your body to face the tiled walls — palms resting against the damp surface as your step-brother looms behind you, soapy hands squeezing at your hips as he angles you just right, followed by another needy hump of his cock between your thighs and cunt.

“but you’re not stopping me, baby. i think you want me~” he sings as he lets himself lean closer, pressing his chest tight against your back while his lips tease the shell of your ear. the feeling of your pussy against him is slick and warm, sinful but so fucking addictive as he begins a pace that has wet, lewd slaps echoing through the bathroom with every connection of his body with yours.

“you’re not denying it.. so lewd, having a crush on your step brother? always gimme whatever i want.”

you melt deeper into bachira with every saccharine rub of his cock through your folds, grinding against your clit just right until your toes are curling against the shower floor. you gasp his name, reaching back to tangle your fingers in your step-brothers dual toned hair before he’s reaching between your bodies to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock.

you feel him leave you momentarily with a short laugh before you feel him angle his cock through your folds again — pressing up until the head teases at your entrance and you jump when you feel him suddenly begin to sink into you with a gasp that breaks into something prettier. “bachi! w-we can’t..”

“but you’re so wet.. it’d be so mean to leave you like this and after rubbing your pussy up on me, no fair you’re too cute.” bachira hums, words catching in his throat as you push your hips back into his — letting his cock kiss deeper as your walls tremble and squeeze around him.

“i-it’s so.. so good.” you breathe as you give yourself to him, fingertips tightening in his hair while he reaches around your body to circle your clit — letting your walls greedily pull more of his cock into your cunt as he whines low at the desire he feels throb through him.

“see, knew you wanted me, baby. y-y’re such a tease, mhm.. gonna give you my cum then clean you up real good after, m’kay? like the best brothers do.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#cw stepcest #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk x you #bachira x reader #bachira x you #bachira smut #bachira meguru x you #bachira meguru smut #bachira meguru x reader

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