#I mean did he eat at all around the underwater shoot? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buttterknifeee · 4 years ago

Text

Deep Six- Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Request: May I request an insert in the episode Deep Six where the titans meet Aqualad?

Masterlist

Summary: Robin makes you accompany this guy name Aqualad and Beast Boy. Will you be able to handle them or will their bickering tear you apart. Also you're a katara kinnie (i know ATLA didn't exist then but still) This episode is Season 1 Episode 8!

Pairings: Platonic!Aqualad x reader, Robin x reader if you squint

Word Count: 4314

A/N: this time i decided not to split up the episode and post it as one! I made them meet for the first time here, so the Aqua kids don't bond much yet, but if you want to see more, feel free to request! (click here for guidelines) Also yes I also ended this one with "anyone up for pizza" thats all i know how to do to end a fan ficbskghs

“Ahhhh, don’t you just love the ocean?” you admired the shallow sea, the blue water flowing by you. The others prepared for launch, reading off the status of the T-Sub.

“Main power online.”

“Oxygen tanks at maximum”

“Defensive system active”

Beast boy hums confidently. “And your new secret weapon is ready to rock.”

Cyborg rolls his eyes through the headset. “Only time you qualify as a secret weapon is after eating a tofu bean burrito.” You stifled a giggle as Beast Boy yells in protest.

“Uh, 'scuse me, bud. Can you breathe underwater? Uh-uh. Can you be any fish in the sea?”

You shrugged your shoulders and smirked. “Cyborg can’t but I can. And I can breathe underwater without being a fish so I guess I’m just as much of a secret weapon as you, BB.”

You found out that you could breathe underwater a few days after you and the others formed the Teen Titans. You were surfing for the first time since that day when you fell off your board. You had accidentally inhaled underwater, and to your relief, you found that you were able to breathe in the ocean water with no problem. You offered to swim outside the sub on your own, but the team didn’t want you to get hurt, so you were stuck in the small confines of your own pod of the T-sub.

Robin ignores you three’s bickering. “We have to find out what this Trident guy is planning,” he says. “If it takes forty barrels of toxic waste, I doubt it's environmentally friendly.”

The engines warm up, the vessel humming to life. “Titan Launch!” Robin exclaims and the T-sub shoots through a tunnel and into the Jump CIty Bay. You watch in awe at the ocean life around you. Now that you had a connection to the ocean, your perspective on ocean life had changed. You clutch your seashell necklace as you continue to take in the view of the ocean, ignoring Beast Boy showing off his teeth and Cyborg turning off his mic as a result. Robin’s voice snaps you back into reality.

“Sonar contact. Beast Boy! Aquagirl! Ready to go?”

You gave a quick smile. “On it.” You unbuckle your harness and the dome unlatched, allowing you to swim out. Beast Boy gave a mischievous smirk.

“Dude, I was born ready. Try not to be jealous.” He aimed the second comment at Raven, who looked at him indifferently. Beast Boy quickly swam out of his pod and transformed into a whale.

“He just put on three hundred thousand pounds. I am so jealous.” she notes sarcastically.

You and Beast Boy made silent eye contact before swimming towards the cargo ship, examining its destroyed remains. He turns into a shark to keep investigating, and you follow his lead. You couldn’t help but feel that you were being watched, as you swam around the ship. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you see a green figure; not a bright green like Beast Boy’s but a sicker, murkier green. You point at the green man as he swam away, and you and Beast Boy immediately bolt after it, the T-sub following behind.

Your black scuba shoes propelled you forward, and you aimed blasts of water towards the figure, but it kept dodging your shots. The monster, whom you now assumed was Trident, fired his weapon at you and Beast Boy, and when you dodged, it hit the T-sub. You forced yourself to continue to chase after Trident, hoping that the vessel was also capable of dodging his shots.

You and Beast Boy were nearing close to catching Trident when a voice rang in your head. It wasn’t yours, nor Beast Boy’s; it was clear, belonging to someone no older than you were.

“Your friends are in danger.” you heard. You and Beast Boy both stopped in your tracks, looking at each other in shock. You realized that the T-sub was no longer following you.

“Our friends are in what? Whoa! How did you say that? Dude! How did I say that? Hey!” Beast Boy also says in your mind. You turn to see the T-sub being attacked, and shot off without waiting for Beast Boy.

“Dude, questions are for later! Let’s go!” You order, not even entirely sure how you were able to talk either. You approach the vessel, which was being destroyed by Trident, who you swore you were just chasing.

Suddenly, a figure knocked Trident down. Trident and the mystery person fought each other, moving so quickly that all you could see of the person was a blur of black and blue

You turn your attention to the T-sub, which was slowly sinking into a fissure on the seafloor. Water was filling up fast and a look of panic settled on your teammates faces (except Raven, who seemed to have accepted death). Your eyes glowed blue as you outstretched your arms towards the damaged vessel. Focusing on the water around the titans, you forced the leaks to cease and the descent into the fissure to stop. Your muscles burned as you kept your stance; holding the vessel in place underwater was similar to holding it up on your arms above ground. Beast Boy raced to help as you struggled to keep grip when suddenly, two whales came and carried the sub on their backs.

You let go of the ship and breathe a sigh of relief. Beast Boy sees you almost passing out and comes to your side, now in the form of a squid. Instead of comforting you, he complains about the whales' help.

"They got it? How come they got it?"

A familiar voice rang in your head again. "Because I asked for their help." The voice belonged to the guy who was fighting Trident before. He comes to your other side and supports your other arm, putting it around his neck.

"You talk to fish? Yeah right. And let go of her!"

"You guys need help, and I'm talking to you right?" He glared at Beast Boy, keeping his grip on you.

Beast Boy was about to reply when you held your hand up in front of his squid face. "Beast Boy, I'm a solid five seconds from collapsing. I'm fine with the help."

The guy in blue gave a small smile. "And it's called telepathy. Let's go."

The three of you swam into a cavern. As you entered, the T-sub was floating on the water's surface and although it was extremely damaged, it managed to keep your teammates safe. You nodded to Beast Boy and the other teen and they let you go as you approach the other titans.

Raven asked, "where are we?"

"My place," the mysterious teen answered. "I told the whales to bring you here."

Raven and Starfire both blushed and gave bashful thank yous. You stared at them. Are they… in love with the new guy???, you thought, confused.

Beats Boy seemed angrier than ever. "He saved you?" He yelled, turning back into his human form. "Hel-lo? I was there too, you know."

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "Were you? Because if anything I remember Aquagirl keeping us from drowning. What, you stopped Trident from kebabbing us with that souped up shrimp fork?"

"Way to go!" Robin said sarcastically. Beast Boy stuttered a response, but the blue teen interrupted.

"Aquagirl, huh? Well, I'm Aqualad. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier, we Atlanteans like to keep a low profile."

You shake his hand, now taking in what Aqualad looked like. He was half a foot taller than you, with slicked back hair and black pupils. He wore a bodysuit with blue scales and black accents. He had nice features, but you couldn't figure out why the other girls were drooling over him, so you kept that thought to yourself.

"You're from Atlantis? That's so cool!" You say.

He nodded. "So is Trident." He opens up a hologram from a table in the cavern. "He's the worst criminal in Atlantis, with an ego to match."

He continues a sideshow filled with pictures of the sickly green monster. "Trident claims he's perfect in every way so he thinks he can do whatever he wants."

"Any ideas what he wants to do with all that toxic waste?" Robin asked.

"Whatever it is, it'll be bad for both our worlds. He's already gained some kind of new power. It's like he can be everywhere at once." Aqualad says.

"Noticed that," Raven says sarcastically.

"As long as we're after the same guy, maybe we can help each other." He looks at the six of you.

Your eyes sparkle. "Of co-" you begin, but Beast Boy pushed you out of the way.

"Whoa, hey, no, we're good. Got the whole Trident thing under control. 'Sides, I'm sure there's a school of minnows somewhere that need your--" He rejects Aqualad's offer, much to you and the other's dismay. Robin pulls him back, and the six of you group huddled.

"We're at the bottom of the ocean," Raven notes.

"Our sub is Swiss cheese." Cyborg adds.

"I almost died back there," You say.

"And we cannot breathe water," Starfire mentions.

Robin is the first to break away from the huddle. "We'll take any help you can give us." He says to Aqualad.

Aqualad nods and has some amphibian guy named Tramm fix the T-sub. He turns back to us. "While he's helping you, I'll track down Trident. " He turns to go into the ocean again, but Beast Boy intersects.

"You mean I'll track down Trident," He says, pushing him a little

Aqualad pushes him back a little harder. "That's ok, I can handle it."

"Thanks, but I think I should do this."

"Seriously, I can take care of it!"

The five of you watched as their quarrel turned into an all out brawl, and suddenly you couldn't take it anymore.

"GUYS," You yell, causing a wall of water to shoot up next to them to grab their attention. They both stared at you wide eyed. "Stop. The. Fighting." You say with a stern expression.

"Why don't you two both go track him down together?" Robin offers, but the two teens cross their arms and scoff.

"I usually work alone." Aqualad says.

"Yeah. Me too."

"You do not! You're part of a team!"

"And you hang out with Tramm the fish boy! What's your point?"

"Hey! Arguing isn't going anywhere. Listen, Aquagirl can go with you. That'll make sure you stay on task." Robin commands, and you perk up at the sound of your name. You quickly pulled him aside.

"What the hell man?? They obviously don't like each other, you should have seen how much they fought on the way here!." You argue, and Robin looks at you through his masked eyes.

"You're the only other person who can survive underwater, they're gonna need you. Besides, you're great at handling conflicts; you'll be fine." He says with a smile. You blush a little at his comment, and sighed.

"Alright Rob, you can count on me” You return to the rest of the group and the three of you jump into the ocean.

As you headed towards the bottom of the ocean, you decided to ask Aqualad a question that's been bothering you.

“Hey Aqualad,” you say telepathically. “Before you said that you were able to communicate with sea animals. How come you’re able to communicate with me?”

“I don’t know actually,” Aqualad admits, still swimming next to you. He points to your necklace. “I’m guessing it's because of your necklace.” He stops to examine it. Beast Boy groans and stops as well. It glowed a little in his hand as he read the ancient text off of it.

“The Shell of Poseidon,” He read out loud. “I recognize this from the library in Atlantis. Only Atlanteans can use its powers, so you must be Atlantean then, right?”

“Woah! I’m not Atlantean, I’ve never even been there,” you sputter, absolutely shocked at what the teen said.

“Well, you must have some blood in you,” he shrugged. “Hey, maybe we’re cousins or something.”

You grin. “Aquacousin? I like the sound of that!”

Beast Boy interrupts your moment. “Ok, haha, family is fun and all, but while you were floating around finding out parts of your identity or whatever, I’ve actually found something on my sonar so, try to keep up.” He swims off, leaving you two to follow him. You expected to see the sea monster, but instead came upon a group of dolphins.

“No offense B.B. but these don't look like Trident to me.” you smirk.

Aqualad swims up to the dolphins, focusing on his telepathy. The dolphins swim up together and Aqualad turns to you and Beast Boy.

“They told me where to find Trident. Try to keep up.” He mocks Beast Boy, then swims with the dolphins. You look at Beast Boy, who seemed pretty grumpy, and turn to follow Aqualad.

You tailed behind as the two boys raced each other, Beast Boy turning into various aquatic creatures to catch up with the equally competitive teen. Then you see it. In front of them, Trident swam into view. You and Aqualad stop on instinct, but Beast Boy keeps going.

"Beast Boy! Stop!" You both yell, as he barrels straight towards Trident.

"What's the matter?" He taunts. "Am I too fast for y-"

You winced as you watched him crash into the sea monster and fall to the floor.

"Heh… how's it going," Beast Boy says telepathy to the monster towering over him. Trident growled.

"Keep your thoughts to yourself, you inferior fool!" He pointed his well, trident at beast boy and fires; Beast Boy barely dodges it.

Aqualad tackles Trident and they fall off an underwater ridge.

"Oh no you! This time he's mine!" Beast Boy yells, following Aqualad to the ridge.

"Beast Boy wai-" you yell, but was cut off by something grazing the side of your head. You turn, and see Trident swing his weapon at you. You dodged his next swing, wondering how he was able to get to you right after being attacked by Aqualad. You send him flying across the ocean with your water powers, when you hear Beast Boy yelling. You turn to see Beast Boy in squid form latched onto Aqualad's face. You could see Trident swim away from the corner of your eye as you swam to pull Beast Boy off of Aqualad. Aqualad glares at Beast Boy, his face peppered with red dots from Beast Boy's accidental attack.

“I said, ‘incoming’” he defends himself. Aqualad ignores him and points to another figure swimming into a grotto.

“He’s getting away!” Aqualad swims away, Beast Boy following.

“Wait-” you say, confused. Didn't you just send Trident flying in the other direction? How did he move so quickly? You reluctantly followed your friends into the cavern. You joined them as they observed the two tunnels that split off into two different directions.

“What are we gonna do now?” you think out loud.

“Maybe the question is where were you guys?” Aqualad snaps, turning to the two of you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion while Beast Boy swims forward to be face to face with Aqualad.

“Where was I? Fighting Trident by myself!” He jabbed a squid tentacle into Aqualads shoulder.

“You barely laid a tentacle on him! At least I managed to break his weapon!”

“Dude, that's just wrong. I so broke that fork thing!”

“BOYS!” you yell. “I also fought Trident and I sent him in the opposite direction, and now he's here. There's something going on…” The two began to think, but then perked their heads up. They then point at opposite tunnels.

“There he goes!” they yell at the same time. You stare at the two of them in even deeper confusion. Beast boy swims up to you, making eye contact.

“I saw him! He's that way! I'm right, he's wrong! End of story!” He crosses his tentacles. Aqualad pushes Beast Boy aside so that you were now staring at his dark pupils.

"I'm telling you, he's this way!"

"GUYS, we can just split up," You say flatly, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Aqualad I'm sure you can handle yourself, so I'll go with Beast Boy."

"Aw sweet!- Heyyy…" Beast Boy says to your backhanded comment. Aqualad nods and swims off into the tunnel.

You and Beast Boy were alone in the tunnel when you sighed.

"B.B., why do you keep picking fights with Aqualad?" You asked, still looking ahead. Beast Boy turns to you, acting shocked.

"ME??? It's not my fault Mr. Pretty-Boy-Know-It-All keeps showing off!" He whines.

"Dude, he's just trying to help us. Maybe you should-" you were cut off by a loud booming voice.

"Worthless scum! You cannot beat perfection!" Trident bellowed from behind you. You and Beast Boy turned, already in a fighting position.

"How many of you fork things do you have?" He mumbled as you charged forward.

You dodged his energy bolts, Trident in return dodging your attempts to push him farther back. Beast Boy turns into a turtle, pulling his arms and legs inside. Trident threw his weapon and it bounced off of him, flying into you and sending the two of you hurtling through the water.

"I always win!" You hear him say as you regain your stance. Beast Boy turns into a giant crab, grabbing onto Trident's weapon.

"And I thought Aqualad had a big ego!" He yelled telepathically.

"BEAST BOY GET BACK!" You yell. He swiftly let go, and you shot a jet of water towards Trident, sending him flying into a cavern wall. The cavern shakes, and a mass of boulders come crashing down. All you could see was a crushed trident sticking out from under the rocks. You breathed a sigh of relief until you felt a searing pain in your leg. You look and see a burn mark; Trident probably hit you before you buried him in a pile of rocks. Beast Boy looks at you, a worried expression in his eyes (despite being in the form of an ocean animal).

“I’ll be fine,” you grimace. “Let's find a way out first.” You painstakingly swim until you find a cave similar to Aqualads. You drag yourself towards the land as Beast Boy turns back into his human form. Right after you pull yourself up, you see Aqualad jump out of the water. He sees the two of you, and runs to meet up with you. He and Beast Boy begin to talk at the same time.

“ I just saw Trident!... No, you didn't!... Yes, I did! Cut it out!”

“I don’t care what you say! I fought Trident!” Beast Boy yelled, a vein nearly jumping out of his forehead.

"That's impossible!" Aqualad counters, his fists clenched so tight you thought you saw blood.

They both seemed to be prepared to fight each other. You jumped in between them, holding both their heads back as they flail their arms, trying to get a hit at each other.

"You know," You begin, silencing the two boys. "When Robin asked me to join you guys, I didn't want to. You two are heroes that just met each other and you were already fighting! But he told me that I could handle it and he's right! I can handle the both of you; but it seems to me that you guys can't handle each other. So here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna heal myself because oh right! I got BURNT and you two are gonna talk it out." You let go of the boys, and they watched as you limped over to the edge of the water, plopped yourself down, and started pulling the ocean water to your leg. You listened in a little as you concentrated the water on your leg. It only took a few seconds to heal your burn, it was only surface level and you had gotten better at using your healing powers. They were still talking as you noticed what was in front of you: hundreds of Trident clones and yellow Trident capsules-eggs attached to the ceiling.

"Uh guys…" you say, rejoining them, but they had seen it too.

"One Trident is bad…" Aqualad says.

"... but this is…" Beast Boy adds.

"... an entire …" You say.

"...ARMY!" One of the tridents finishes your thought.

They all charge, and the three of you brace or impact. You raise your arms and a wave of water takes out a small group of the monster clones. You dodge their attacks, shooting jets of water at their heads. You see Beast Boy get flung into a machine, and an egg hatching sequence begins on the screen. You regroup with the other boys in front of the machine.

"Oops," Beast Boy said sheepishly.

"Great," Aqualad groaned as the clones began to close in.

"We need a plan," You mumble.

A group of the clones began to speak.

"My brilliant plan is already a success"

"If one of me was perfect…"

"Why not make more?"

"You can never have too much of a good thing"

"Once my army conquers Atlantis…"

"I will declare war on the surface world! Everyone on the planet will bow down before me"

"And praise my perfection!"

Aqualad whispers to the both of you as the clones cheer. "Any bright ideas?"

Beast Boy whispered back. "Just one. Try to keep up." He turned to the clones. "So if you're all perfect, which one of you is the best?" He asked.

One of the tridents answered. "I am!... Huh?"

As soon as you understood what Beast Boy was doing, you grinned. Aqualad stepped up.

"Come on. You can't all be the best." He says.

"One of you must be better than the others," You add.

One of the tridents step forward. "I am the original!I am the best!"

"You are not the original"

"I am!" Multiple tridents yell at once.

"Nonsense you inferior fools! I am perfect! I am Trident! "

You watch in amusement as the clones turn on each other and the fight turns into a full on brawl. The fight eventually ends, and all the tridents laid on the ground, defeated. Aqualad turns to Beast Boy.

"Great idea," He says. You noticed that there were no hints of sarcasm in his voice. Whatever they said to each other earlier must have made them work better together, you figured.

"Kinda got it from you," Beast Boy says."Now we just have to stop those from hatching." He points to the yellow pod filled ceiling. Right as he said that, the screen on the machine behind you hit 0 on the timer and the word "begin" flashed on the screen.

"Too late!" The three of you yelled at the same time. New Trident clones were breaking through their membrane "eggs". Beast Boy instinctively turns into a hippopotamus and tramples the crowd, creating a path to the ocean. You and Aqualad sprint behind Beast Boy, dodging the clones' outstretched arms. You all dive into the water, the Tridents close behind.

"We can't let them escape! We need to find some way of sealing the exit!" Aqualad yells telepathically.

"Right now, I'm just worried about getting to the exit." Beast Boy replies. You didn't look back, but you could feel the clones closing in. As you got closer to the exit you saw a familiar looking silhouette.

"The T-sub!" You exclaimed as you swam out of the cave. The clones stop in their tracks in confusion.

"Huh?" You hear one of them say.

You moved out of the way as the sub sent beams towards the entrance of the cave. The Blast caused a pile of rubble to fall, blocking the exit. You smile at your team who's cheering (along with Aqualad’s friend Tramm) inside their pods. The three of you turn bad to observe the T-sub’s work.

“Good thing Trident likes himself so much, 'cause I'm thinking he won't see anybody else for a looong time.” Beast Boy says.

You find yourself on the surface again, on the shore of the Titan’s Tower. Raven and Starfire both continue to look at Aqualad with heart eyes as Robin steps forward.

“Consider yourself an honorary titan” he says with a smile, holding out a familiar black and yellow communicator for him to take. “We couldn't have done it without you. Thanks.”

“Right back at you. It's good to know there's people up here I can trust.” Aqualad looks at you and Beast boy. He says goodbye to Raven and Starfire, who blushingly say it back. He then turns to Beast Boy.

“What can I say, dude? You're the best.” Beast Boy says.

“Nah. You're the best.”

“Yeah, you're right. And if you ever want me to prove it, I'm always up for a race.”

“Just try and keep up.” Aqualad laughs, patting his head. He finally turned to you.

“Aquagirl, it's been really nice to meet you. Next time you’re near Atlantis, give me a call and I’ll show you around. There's so much to show you,” he stretched out his hand for a handshake, but you pulled him in for a hug. He was surprised at your gesture, but soon returned it. Raven and Starfire looked at you with pure envy as you pulled back with a smile.

“I’ll take your word for it, Aquacousin” you say, making a reference to your nickname for him earlier. He laughs, then waves goodbye. The six of you wave back as he swims back into the ocean. Robin gently put his hand on your shoulder.

“You did a great job today Aquagirl. I knew I could count on you.”

“You know you can always count on me, dude.” you say with a smile. “Now I’m kinda hungry. Anyone up for pizza?”

156 notes · View notes

h2bakugou · 4 years ago

Note

Can I have bakugo x reader who acts a lot like kenma? You can do gendernetural!

Please hydrate!

a/n: of course!! i do be using the wiki to find out his personality cuz half the time i forget, i haven't seen haikyuu in a minute, i might rewatch the first two seasons-

summary: quiet, composed, analytical. the three words most students in your class use to describe you. despite your reserved nature and awkward aura, bakugou decides to approach you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 2.5k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s a cool autumn day, the cool wind rustling the bright-colored leaves on the trees. With the air getting much colder, it was time to break out your winter costumes when it came to training.

You stood by yourself like usual, listening to instructions. Of course, the exercise today was grouping you in pairs. And despite being possible acquaintances with at least half of your peers, you didn’t really consider them friends.

It wasn’t because you hated them, you were reserved, quiet, and rarely showed any emotions, often having others perceive you as cold and hard to read.

“It’s just a simple team-building skills exercise. You’ll most likely have several occasions in the field where you’re working together with other heroes and agencies, especially on bigger cases. Your pairs have already been chosen for you so when your names are called find your partner.” Aizawa’s look hadn’t changed at all. In fact, you almost wondered if his outfit had changed during the summer or not.

But it seemed like what he wore during the hottest days of June or July was currently fitted on him now.

Name after name was called, slowly dwindling down the remaining students that could be paired.

“Kirishima, (Y/n).” It wasn’t that much of a surprise to you when you heard your name. Kirishima meandered over to you, shooting you a sharp-teethed smile before glancing back at Kaminari and Sero, who had been paired together.

“Bakugou, Todoroki.” That was a pair you certainly hadn’t expected. Watching as Bakugou’s eye seemed to twitch he teamed up with the half-and-half boy, not very thrilled to do this exercise with him.

The training was fairly simple, you were to rescue a training dummy from a random hazard under thirty minutes.

In your case, your dummy was trapped in a sinking car.

You hadn’t expected to get wet today, and even if your quirk allowed you some help under the water, it was still going to be cold. It didn’t help that Kirishima kept asking you questions.

You were thinking of a strategy as you rushed to the scene.

“I think the best plan is to try and get the car out of the water.”

No that is a stupid plan. You can’t lift the car, with water inside of it you’d just sink to the bottom.

You didn’t have a solid plan, but you could finish fairly early if you could break the window and retrieve the dummy.

Using this plan, you’d need Kirishima to harden and break the window.

After reviewing the area where the car had begun to sink, you could feel the cameras on you, your entire class observing you. It was uncomfortable, you frankly wished you’d been paired with someone like Mineta so your fight would hopefully be uninteresting to those who despised the purple-’haired’ boy.

“Harden and break the window when we get to the car. Trying to save the car is just going to slow us down.” You spoke plainly, kicking off your shoes as you stared at the strikingly blue water.

“Break the window, got it!” Kirishima was ready. Jumping into the cold water, you fought the urge to swim back out. Pushing on, you swam to the car, hoping you’d be able to hold your breath long enough to get the dummy out.

Kirishima swam beside you and quickly hardened part of his body, noticing how much harder it was to move underwater.

After a few attempts, the glass hadn’t budged. You needed air. Swimming back up, your heads popped up above the water.

“We need momentum.” Kirishima wasn’t getting anywhere.

“Use your feet on the window behind the driver's side. I’ll swim through and get the dummy.” You ducked back under, sucking in a breath to keep with you. Kirishima came back down, finding that hardening allowed him to sink faster.

Using your advice, he hardened his feet and lower calves, kicking through the hard glass of the window behind the driver’s side. You kicked out any remaining glass and swam through, quickly navigating for the seatbelt buckle.

It was hard to see, the water made things blurry, but after some searching you found it.

The dummy was heavy, but with enough force, you were able to pull it out of the seat and bring it into the back seat, handing it off to Kirishima.

However, as you were preparing to swim through the broken window, your foot got caught in a seatbelt. From the thrashing and moving trying to maneuver the dummy, your legs had gotten tangled.

Yanking your legs did nothing and you were running out of air. Kirishima had taken the dummy back to shore only to realize you hadn’t popped back above water.

Quickly diving back in, he was lucky to find you still moving.

Squeezing through the window, he helped free you from the seatbelts, cutting them free from your legs before helping you back above the water.

Gasping for air, you choked on water that spewed from your mouth and nose, completely unaware of just how long you'd been down there for.

“That was a good plan, next time don’t get stuck!” Kirishima’s cheery voice guided you back to reality as you swam back to shore, resting as soon as your body no longer had to float to hold itself up.

Training was over for you and Kirishima, and you’d passed with three minutes to spare. You were handed a towel and escorted to change out of your wet costume.

However, you had to return after changing into the regular training uniform.

That’s when Bakugou approached you.

“How’d you think of that plan so fast?” Bakugou’s question doesn’t seem like much of a question at all. He’d gone before you so he was done with training as well. You didn’t respond at first, opting to try and seem as invisible as possible, hoping that maybe he was talking to Momo who was within an earshot of your conversation.

“Oi!”

“It just made sense.” Was all you could conjure up to say, proceeding to move away from Bakugou after answering. However, Bakugou wasn’t pleased with this. He then decided to follow you around like a lost puppy, trying to catch up with you every time you migrated away from him.

“What’s your deal?” Bakugou finally cornered you away from the class, pushing your back against a wall.

“Please stop following me.” You didn’t want to look the blonde in the eyes. Your heart was beating faster than before. This was such a vulnerable position. You couldn’t place your finger on what it was exactly you were feeling, but the thumping of your heart was starting to hurt your head.

“Tch, dumbass.” Bakugou grumbled, his cheeks pink as he walked away, folding his arms over his chest. You didn’t mind standing still for a bit, no one could see you, but you feared you’d get into trouble which would only cause a scene. You slowly added yourself to the back of the class, opting to pay minimal attention to the lesson.

A week later, a similar scenario happened. Bakugou cornered you in the library while you played a hand-held console during lunch. You chose to eat quietly somewhere else and spend the remainder of your time in the library, safe from the noisy cafeteria.

However this time, Bakugou didn’t say anything to you. He took a seat in front of you. He debated on saying a few things to you, but it appeared that as long as he was quiet, you seemed unbothered.

Though you would occasionally catch him staring at you, which caused him to grumble something under his breath.

And then there was the day where he showed up with some sort of snack.

You can’t eat in here.

“I didn’t see you eat lunch. Eat dumbass.” Bakugou passed you the snack bar. You stared at it.

Is this some sort of peace offering? If so, why in the one place where food isn’t allowed.

You left the snack bar in its spot for the remainder of your time in the library, only reaching for it when it was time to go. Bakugou glared at you as you opened it as soon as you got outside of the library, only to watch you nibble on the bar before throwing it away, conveniently by the sign that says ‘no food or drink in the library.’

This wouldn’t be the last sort of ‘offering’ Bakugou would give to you. You seemed to tolerate him as long as he was quiet, and he was determined to find out why. Which is why he eventually asked to study in your room.

When he walked in, he was surprised to see how different your room looked.

He half expected it to look as normal as possible, similar to Ojiro’s room.

However, your room was decorated to your liking, with a poster or two on the walls, a comfy-looking blanket draped over your bed, a desk, a tv, and other various decorations.

“Why are you so quiet?” Was the first of many questions Bakugou had to ask you during your study session which you had reluctantly said yes to since he’d asked you during breakfast around other students.

It felt weird to be sitting with him privately in your dorm. Your heart was beating fast again and it was weird. You hadn’t been able to get Bakugou out of your head since he had started all these surprise visits.

“Not much to say.” You replied simply, working on your homework swiftly.

“There’s gotta be something you like, you’re not that fuckin’ boring are you?” Bakugou’s words were harsh, but they weren’t meant to be mean.

“I like video games. But you do not.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, his lips parted in awe.

“I do too play fuckin’ games.” Bakugou stood his ground.

“What games do you have?” This was the first question you’d ever asked Bakugou.

“C-cooking Mama.” Bakugou hung his head in defeat.

“They have multiplayer challenges, correct? We could play together after we finish.” You weren’t at all judgmental of his seemingly childish game choice, but it seemed that you had a copy of the game as well.

After work, you sat on your bed alongside Bakugou and the two of you competed against one another in cooking challenges. You won most of them considering you’d completed the game in its entirety and knew the in and out’s of doing the most with your time, how to get perfect dishes, etc.

You decided to let Bakugou win a few times, but it was almost as if he could tell you were letting him win.

Throwing down his console softly onto your bed, he forced your back against the mattress as he hovered over you.

“Stop going easy on me!’ Bakugou semi-shouted. You stared up at him with a seemingly blank expression, but the heat that burned your face was clear to you.

Bakugou’s warm features, albeit a bit brash and rough, were gorgeous to look at. His tough crimson eyes and his explosive blonde locks, you were almost sure this feeling you were having was one of affection, not that you knew anything about it though.

Let alone how to act on those feelings. And you had observed that Bakugou struggled to be upfront with his feelings too.

Staring down at you was mind-blowing to Bakugou. He could see your face so clearly, your eyes were wide and full of some sort of emotion even though you acted as if you were simply just observing what was happening.

His eyes couldn’t stand to stare at just your eyes though. They travelled all over your face, finding little details to look at before they found your lips.

An unknown force pulled him closer to you, his lips landing on yours. Moving against them softly, he kissed you. Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt his lips on yours.

You couldn’t move. It was electrifying. Yet you were slightly confused.

You didn’t know how to move your lips against his, though you gave it your best effort, now you felt embarrassed as he pulled away staring at you.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if you-”

“I don’t know how to kiss.” You cut him off, explaining that it wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him, but because you didn’t know how too.

Bakugou’s eyes widened as he stared at you. Almost as if he found your statement horrifying. But he began to grin, trying not to laugh.

“If you’re going to laugh about it you can leave.” You knew you shouldn’t have said anything. Bakugou’s serious expression returned.

“Just follow my lead, it’s not rocket science.” Bakugou grumbled, leaning back down to kiss you. You did as he said, closing your eyes, trying to follow what his lips were doing.

You began to move your lips against his, trying to mimic what he was doing, until he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip which drew an embarrassing mewl from you. Pulling away, Bakugou couldn’t help but chuckle at you.

“You- what was...” You were in the middle of catching your breath and trying to ask what he had just done.

“Let’s continue our lesson.”

After half an hour of more kissing, you were completely exhausted. You’d tried to keep up with Bakugou, but every time he felt that you were getting cocky he’d pull some trick, like licking your lower lip. He also ran his hands into yours and raised them above your head, all while his lips attacked yours.

You were in some sort of haze after, completely astonished from it. But one thing was on your mind.

“Are you my boyfriend now?” You asked quietly. Bakugou’s face began to turn red.

“Yeah sure.” Bakugou stared at you for a few seconds as you packed up your things.

You were hard to describe. His peers had labeled you as quiet, composed, and analytical, and while those were true, you were also clearly intelligent along with cute.

Watching you get flustered was adorable, and he couldn’t place a finger on why. Perhaps it was just your innocence or being confused on how to kiss someone, but regardless of the fact, you were dating now.

Keeping it under wraps was easy. Bakugou spent more time with you alone, away from everyone where he learned more about you.

“I have a hard time making friends.” You expressed in his arms. Explaining to Bakugou about why you were quiet, or always by yourself, he began to learn more about you just by listening to you.

But no matter how strange you seemed to make yourself sound, he couldn’t think that it was quite the opposite.

You said you were awkward and dull? You weren’t. You were pleasant to be around, always calming Bakugou down. And you were so nice to look at you, Bakugou honestly thought you were some sort of beautiful angel.

Pulling you in for one more kiss, Bakugou held you in his arms, interrupting your story-telling. You kissed back almost instantly, now educated in the art of kissing someone back.

Pulling away, Bakugou gave you a small smile to continue. You nuzzled into him, resting your head on his chest as you continued to talk about little things.

You’d found someone who understood you, even if you had to explain it to him along the way. You’d also found someone to play cooking mama with.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

386 notes · View notes

kuroosmikasavolleyball · 4 years ago

Text

Like A Disney Movie But Awkward

Abendrot

(n) the color of the sky when the sun is setting; a certain afterglow.

____________________________________________

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

| previous | masterlist |

____________________________________________

a/n: there have been so many delays(I’m so sorry), but this is the final part! I hope you enjoyed this series. It’s kinda wonky because it’s my first one but in the future, it’ll def get better. Let me know what pairing you want to see next!

Part 5 summary: (Y/N) can’t get the sunset or Cedric out of her head, so she asks him to go watch the sunset with her. Totally just like friends, right? After falling(literally) in love and a bit of advice from the twins, (Y/N) has everything she needs to confess. But will she? (I mean no shit it’s a happy ending)

pairing: cedric x fem!reader (in ravenclaw)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

____________________________________________

The excitement that was brought along with the weekend and the quidditch games was gone when Monday struck through. Most teachers were understanding enough on Friday to lessen the workload, but Snape still assigned a 6-inch paragraph on Golpallot’s Third Law. The twins laughed at (Y/N) when they heard what homework Snape gave since they weren’t in Potions class anymore.

Cedric announced, well actually, scratch that. Cedric told the twins and (Y/N) that he was going to enter the Triwizard Tournament; Fred and George announced it to basically the entirety of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

“Maybe I should’ve kept it a secret until I actually entered.”

Cedric whispered to (Y/N), who was currently by the pond with the three boys.

“I think I would’ve been offended if you didn’t tell me.”

“Duly noted. Now, what are we supposed to do for Charms again?”

Chuckles rose and (Y/N) leaned over to check Cedric’s textbook.

“Since it’s water we’re handling, we need to research and take notes on a way to breathe underwater.”

Fred’s head suddenly popped up from the draft advertisement for Weasley’s Wizardly Wheezes(3W), “That sounds cool, no? Breathing under water. I reckon we’ll have sprouted tails and gills if I try that spell. Do tell though; how do you cast the spell?”

Cedric laughed, “It sounds like you’re going to test that spell no matter what the consequences. I think there’s one about some sort of weed you have to eat, and maybe you can do transfiguration on yourself, or..”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on doing work and lazing around. (Y/N) had an idea about seeing the sunset again now that she fell in love with it. It was addicting.

(Y/N) tiptoed behind Cedric after spotting him outside near the courtyard. She quietly reached for his arms and suddenly shook him in hopes of scaring him. It worked, sort of..he turned around and jumped simultaneously, tripping over (Y/N) and landing on the floor, grasping her to prevent too much damage.

They both groaned as the pain shot through their backs, Cedric quickly scrambling off of (Y/N) to avoid her seeing his blush getting crushed by him.

“Ugh..remind me to never scare you again.”

They both laid on the grass, no energy to get up from the slightly too close situation they were in.

“Anyways..are you free tonight?”

Cedric cocked his head, turning to look at (Y/N) to see her already gazing at him.

“Um..except the fact that we have classes tomorrow and should probably sleep early, yeah I’m free. What do you have in mind?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to see the sunset… with me. I saw a glimpse yesterday during the game and I think I have a good spot to see the view. You up for it?”

“..Definitely. The sunsets near the quidditch pitch are one of a kind.”

“I know right?! Bring your broomstick.”

After finishing all her work and rushing out the Ravenclaw room when Kimball told her to use protection, she bumped into George and Fred.

“Woah, where are you going so quick?”

George dramatically pretended to faint. “Are you..sneaking out? Freddie, catch me. We’ve finally turned little Ms. Follow The Rules; I couldn’t be more proud.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully. “I might be..what’s it to you?”

“Ok defensive queen. We can’t find Diggory anywhere and we were about to ask you, but I think I know why he’s missing now. You guys finally confessed??”

Why is it so easy for her face to heat up?

“Oh, god no. We’re just going to see the sunset.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if we joined you both, right?” Fred snickered.

“No! ..I mean.. ugh fine, you guys win. I want to tell him...”

“Aw look, she’s in love. Don’t worry, pretty boy is hooked on you.”

“Shush..I have to go…thanks.”

She zoomed past, thankful to get away from the boys towering over her intimidatingly. After a quick stop to the quidditch locker room, she met Cedric and they snuck out of the exit near the gardens.

“Where are we going?”

“Just follow me.”

Out of instinct, (Y/N) grabbed Cedric’s hand and pulled him towards the field. She mounted her broom and told Cedric to do the same. They flew to a hilltop not too far from the quidditch stands and heard chuckles behind her when Cedric found out what she was planning.

“Here’s the lucky spot; I think it’s high enough to see the sunset clearly.”

The sky had already become a mixture of the most compassionate shades of orange and blue. Cedric produced a blanket that was magically folded in his pocket and they sat, conscious of the closeness.

“It’s so ethereal… and weirdly calming.”

Cedric wanted to say that (Y/N) is way more ethereal and calming, but he kept it to himself.

The sun touched the horizon and started sinking into a sea of warm tones. Cedric glanced towards (Y/N), seeing the beauty in front of them as a reflection in her eyes. He wanted to tell her, so badly. But the fear of messing up everything held him back until his thoughts vanished when she turned her head towards him too.

“I’m cold.” (Y/N) grumped with a slight smile.

Cedric’s arms had an irreplaceable feeling to them and (Y/N) wished time would stop. She did have feelings for him anyways…

“Hey I have to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“(Y/N)..I’ve wanted to tell you..but I don’t really know how to.”

“Can I say it first?”

“Wait what??”

“Wait, were you not going to say..oh my god did I misunderstand..shoot I- “

Frantic speeches were then cut off by a soft touch of lips. A simple warmth spread through both their bodies immediately into a rapid fire of feelings.

Cedric pulled away.

“So you were thinking the same thing as me.”

They both laughed as their cheeks heated up and they looked at the sky again. The sun has now almost completely disappeared into the dark abyss of mountains.

(Y/N) broke the silence. “You know, I thought of you during the game..and a lot of other times. *chuckles* Because the sunset kept coming up in my mind, and I remembered when you told me a word for this..view.”

“Is that why you wanted to come up here? I just thought you wanted a bigger gesture to say something..I’m just glad I had the same words in mind.”

“I like you. A lot. Sorry, I just wanted to say it.”

“I like you too. Way more than I thought earlier because I was scared, but now..yeah.”

(Y/N) grinned and a mutual understanding passed through their eyes; before wasting another second, they kissed again. Slowly and gently, as the sky turned darker.

Cedric whispered against her lips. “You’re my abendrot.”

| previous | masterlist |

extra a/n: lol this was so much like a disney movie ending pls- I’m going to start writing angst,,,

#cedric x y/n #cedric diggory #cedric x reader #cedric imagine #cedric diggory fluff #abendrot series #fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter masterlist #harry potter fluff #x y/n #cedric fanfiction #cedric #bts #harry potter series #cedric diggory series

47 notes · View notes

pirate-kwazii · 4 years ago

Text

Watching Ring Of Fire now so here’s more of my thoughts

Is that a fence in the water

Is everyone groaning about the sea urchin and crab or yawning? I can’t tell

Okay I’ve had the Vegimals song stuck in my head for awhile now

Kwazii’s alarm clock shoots tennis balls at him- same

And Dashi starts the day with yoga

Tweaks fell asleep playing video games mood

Shellington what the fUCK

Tf is that- is that lava?!?

Oh ring of fire like the volcanoes- I feel stupid now

They’re doing their role call out of order

What the fuck Kwazii why did you eat 17 kelp cakes

Is the only thing you eat is seaweed

VIDEO TRAINING VIDEO TRAINING

*terrible accordion playing* *everyone winces*

How many cousins do you have peso?!?!

Kwazii: I’m going out and FAST!!!!

Captain: *eyebrow raise*

Kwazii: I mean I’m checking the engine

MORE GUPS?!?!

“Don’t push the Z button” Kwazii is definitely going to press it I bet all 3 of my dollars

Wait why did Peso and Barnacles need a Gup if they were taking the octopod?!

How much time does Tweak have to keep making all these gups?!

Aw Kwazii loves that Gup so much

WHAT IS BARNACLES WEARING WHAT THE HELL NO

Kwazii’s copying it omg-

Shellington and Dashi are such nerd friends it’s actually adorable

Tremors those are probably important

Ring-shape? Like the ring of fire-

Oh no comms are down

A TSUNAMI?!?!

Mateys you should’ve stayed at the Octopod

Kwazii saved Tweak’s life and now it’s flooding

Why don’t they know about the Ring of Fire if they LIVE in the ocean

Oh no the comms are down they can’t reach them!!!!

Damn at least no one is alone...

Of course the Chinstrap Penguins live on a volcano

Well at least Shellington and Dashi are alright and above water so there’s a lower chance of drowning

“How does he know I’m an octonaut?” Maybe it’s because you’re wearing the octonauts colors and the logo all over it

Wow itd be faster to push the stupid thing

Last time you guys followed the screaming sound there was a tsunami

Well at least you found the whales you wanted to find

“I’ve always wanted to see a whale but not like this!” I’d sure hope so Shellington

Of course the volcano erupts

Tweak Kwazii are ya okay?!

THEY DONT HAVE AIR TANKS ON THEM OH NO

TWEAK!!!

Now is not the time to copy Barnacles- holy shit it worked

She just noticed that?!

Shit you guys are stuck

Kwazii beggars can’t be choosers

Why is that the only way to get across Tweak

No Tweak pay attention

ITS ON FIRE

I really hope you guys can hold your breath

She’s pulling a Ladybug and the things she looks at glow now

Improvised fire extinguisher

WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE ARENT YOU UNDERWATER

Eww they landed in seaweed and a banana peel

Why does everyone end in the garbage disposal- sorry compost

Oh he almost fell in-

*opens door and floods room* Guess we’re swimming after all

Tunip leave him it’s natural selection

Grouber just sits and eats during a panic- same

“Lesson Nine- dealing with disasters” what

Why is the background of those videos so bad

I mean it’s rad but also bad

Tunip: *hands the Vegimals a bunch of shovels* good luck

Mateys how did that dirt pile work-

*quickly unplants all the seaweed*

*vacuums the animals*

LEAVE THE SEAWEED YOU HAVE ENOUGH

“You gotta save us!” Why didn’t you get their attention sooner?

Why do none of them notice the volcanoes that they live on/near

We’ve seen the rafts it won’t work

How the hell did you think of that

Is that even possible

They only leave Inkling in charge when legit no one else is there

Kwazii and Tweak: *mimic pirates, rabbits and Barnacles*

Peso and Barnacles: *mimic penguins*

How was the lava that aLMOST COOKED YOUR EGGS NOT A WARNING SIGN

Wow Inkling is not good at this I see why he’s never in charge

Even Kwazii and the Vegimals have managed the octopod better than that

Why is there is Disco Ball

Why does it always switch to the training videos

“Dashi’s so good at this” yeah it’s almost like it’s her JOB

There was a BUTTON FOR THAT EXACT REASON AND YOU DIDNT THINK TO PRESS IT FIRST?!?!?!

Took you long enough jeez

What is they fall off of the “slide”

“Mothers and babies first” anyone else can perish

Well that egg is dead

Oh never mind he got it

WHY DIDNT YOU TWO GET ON THE SIDE TOO TWEAK WOULD UNDERSTAND

I mean she and Kwazii are trying not to be set on fire so I’m sure she’d get it

“I just hope everyone else is okay” well shellington and Dashi are stuck on a volcano that’s exploding trying to get a beached whale out on a very slow Gup, the Vegimals are trying to evacuate the garden, and Tweak and Kwazii are trying to get out of the burning and flooding repair area so no I don’t think anyone else is okay

“This isn’t working” no really Dashi

Oh the crabs know Kwazii that explains so much

Another Training Video?!

The crew all look so nervous when they appear in a training videos

Oh now Dashi and Shellington are mimicking Tweak

Poor Shellington he’s clumsy

“I have to say I.. really like that plan” yea cuz it’s the one that doesn’t involve you burning in the lava

Shellingtons getting a workout in oof

He’s about to fall into the lava

Now the crabs about to fall into the water

Oh god he’s screwed

Crab jump on the whale- now he’s flying

Shellington get out of the lava!!!

Alright some people are safe

Oh never mind the other volcanoes are erupting too

That water level is dangerously high are they gonna be okay

Kwazii don’t phrase it like that it sounds like you’ll die

KWAZII!!!!!

Oh god oh no his tail

Mimicking Barnacles saved the day

TWEAK!!! KWAZII!!!

Oh they are alright thank god

They’re gonna be traumatized from this- *angst time*

“And how will we get up there” Kwazii making good points again

Kwazii with a grappling hook is a terrifying idea please get one

And now they find out the comms are down

Kwazii trying to be helpful

WHY DOES SHE HAVE AN EMERGENCY CARROT STASH

KWAZII GOT ONE TOO

Another video but this ones useless-

TWEAK YOU TURNED OFF THE POWER

They sounded the octo alert together!!!

Babies

EVERYONES OKAY!!!!

OF COURSE THERES ANOTHER ONE

Kwazii and Tweak: ya we’re good

Also them: *trying to not to drown or burn*

They are all gonna connect to each other like Voltron aren’t they

KWAZII DID PRESS IT IM NOT LOSING MY $3 TODAY!!!

Tweak: I got a plan

*crashes through the hatch*

Kwazii: *excited cat sounds*

Yeah they’re going together naturally

“Mega Gup Z” epic naming skills Tweak

“Seat swap” “wait a minute- WHOA”

“It’s completely covered in sea creatures” there’s no way you get all of them

Oh good some are swimming away

“Sit tight” they can’t really do anything else Captain

Do we know where they go after being S U C C E D into the mega Gup z?

And now rocks are everywhere

Kwazii’s excited cat noises are giving me life

Couldn’t the crabs walk away?

Oh no they’re getting stuck in the volcano-

Oh they’re good thank Neptune

Dashi: yea it’s bout to erupt we gotta go

Peso: I saw something inside there we gotta go look

Does Peso want them to die

Of course the animals sound snobby

“Why ever would we do that” CUZ ITS ERUPTING i swear all the creatures have the IQ of a walnut

“I didn’t even make a button for it” bruh

Yeah just like Voltron

Kwazii: *even more excited cat noises cuz he gets to destroy things*

Why do you all name the moves with the word “mantis” in front of them?

They all share one braincell and Barnacles and Peso have it 90% of the time

Tweak gets the other 10%

Everyone else runs on pure chaotic energy

“Tweak Status Report!” Tweak: WE ARE FUCKED

Let Tweak say “Fuck” 2k21

Kwazii: *e x c i t e d c a t n o i s e s*

*throws sea creatures at whale*

*blows up into five gups in massive explosion in front of erupting volcano*

Is all that sea urchin thinks about is food

“You know what I’d like? Dinner” “you know what pal, that sounds great”

“Have the eruptions stopped” “yea but that’s not what I called about”

Is Inkling trying to be more than that guy who sits in his library all day?

Yea it’s not hatching because of the bandage all around it

Please say the egg doesn’t die

Oh it’s alive good

Octonauts: remember that island that got destroyed by a volcano? Would you like to live on an island that volcano created?

Penguins: not really

Octonauts: too bad

Vegitoa? Wow

ITS THAT STUPID SONG AGAIN LAST TIME IT WAS IT MY HEAD FOR TWO WEEKS

“It still felt like we were working as a team” maybe cuz you were all copying each other the whole time

“You really, really need to update those training videos” yeah fair enough

Of course the Vegimals still remember the dance

I see what the hype was about that was a fantastic movie mateys... though everyone’s probably gonna have some problems after that

#octonauts #kwazii #shellington #peso #captain barnacles #dashi #tweak #professor inkling #the vegimals #Tunip #ring of fire #octonauts ring of fire #kwazii rambles #long post

102 notes · View notes

mirrorgrets · 4 years ago

Text

i hate you, i hope you die

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, graphic descriptions of violence

Pairings: Pannacotta Fugo/Giorno Giovanna (but like. barely.)

Wordcount: 2,224 words

Summary: Fugo returns to Passione and everything falls back into place. He's sworn his loyalty to Giorno and Giorno trusts him. But he hates the very same boy who saved him.

The thing is Fugo hates Giorno.

No, that's wrong. It's more like he wishes he hates Giorno.

When he sank to his knees, lips barely grazing Giorno's knuckles, he felt a pit in his stomach growing bigger and bigger as he said his vows. He felt like he signed his life away to this angel of death. For what? For guilt? For nothing? For a lack of understanding as to why he was still alive and not them?

Sometimes he stares at Giorno, notices little details that he doesn't think anyone who doesn't stare at Giorno for too long notices. Details like how he has an odd habit of pulling his collar when he's nervous; like he has a single pockmark just where his jaw meets his neck; like he stands a bit straighter when someone raises their voice; like he raises his hand like he wants to cover his mouth when he laughs; like he cycles through certain hair ties and ribbons throughout the week.

It drives him insane that at this point, he might know more about Giorno than he knows about Bucciarati, Abbacchio, and Narancia combined—and that says a lot. Bucciarati found him when he was thirteen and it was just them for a while. It was just the two of them in Bruno’s apartment, careful footsteps turning into comfort and routine somewhere between the shootouts, the blood, and the stitches. Then Abbacchio arrived with wary eyes and a sharp tongue and way too many apologies before he settled into his actual asshole self. At that point, Fugo moved out into his own apartment which was only two blocks away. Then he found Narancia, maybe out of inspiration from Bucciarati or something, and while they tried to keep him away from the life of a Mafioso, he weaseled in somehow, manifesting a stand fair and square.

Fugo wonders what it might be like to murder Giorno. He dreams of it when goes to sleep, which isn't often because he hardly goes to sleep nowadays and most of the time, sleep catches him and not the other way around.

Sometimes Giorno dies by his hands around his neck, sometimes it's Mista's stolen gun, sometimes it's by an ax, sometimes it's with a tie, sometimes an encyclopedia. But it's never Purple Haze Feedback. Never his own stand. And dream Giorno who's dying knows this all the damn time. Dream Giorno will look at him with the widest eyes like he's looking at God Himself, like he's a revelation meant to be worshipped. Sometimes his hands will cup his cheek (sometimes bloody, sometimes shaky); sometimes he'll push his forehead against Fugo's; sometimes he'll hold Fugo tight, sometimes like he's made of glass; and sometimes he'll lean in far too close and apologize to Fugo.

He hates that he always wakes up before Giorno can take his last breath and hates himself even more for feeling that way.

Fugo avoids Giorno when he can.

Somehow it's easy and at the same time, not. He meets him whenever he receives an assignment, and Giorno looks like he wants to speak to him. But he never pushes and Fugo is allowed to leave and fuck off and kill more people with a gun, a knife, or anything. At times, Fugo will stay just a second more and wonder if Giorno will take a step or half a step like he said he would but he never does so he leaves and wonders why he feels like he just woke up from his fucked up dreams.

When Fugo isn't murdering or interrogating someone, he's usually doing the dull administrative tasks of Passione like sorting through the legal jargon to find loopholes and accounting for logistics or whatever the hell he can get his hands on because he wants to stay busy, damn it.

His chest feels empty most of the time. It's not like he doesn't know why. It might be depression but he doesn't care enough to forge a prescription this time round. Or maybe it's because no one is pushing him to forge a prescription, unlike last time. Or well, Sheila E tries to make him forge a prescription and she did steal a bunch for him, orange canisters full and all. But she doesn’t force him to take them. She doesn’t hang around his shoulder unlike Bucciarati did when he… unlike when Bucciarati did with his straightforward stares and the little notes he left around Fugo’s apartment. She doesn’t make snide remarks unlike Abbacchio and doesn’t keep him company in the dead of night when everything is too loud even when it’s just quiet. She doesn’t remind him like Narancia did with all the subtlety of a douchebag riding a Ferrari.

So the canisters stay full but Fugo keeps them by his bedside because maybe one day and well, he likes the reminder that at least someone cares.

(Murolo does his own thing too but when he does, Fugo’s far too gone to even remember what Murolo does and the man never reminds him so he’s grateful for that too)

It's not like Fugo is afraid of dying. He goes into each mission like he might die and when he comes out alive, buzzing with manic energy that makes him want to break down and punch the nearest object in the vicinity, he's always disappointed. Sometimes he looks at the gun he owns in his bathroom and he wonders if he should just pull the trigger and collapse, his head bashing against the toilet, bleeding out to die if he doesn't hit the right spot.

He pulls the trigger every other day but the cartridge is always empty.

Today is no different from other days. Fugo startles awake, eyes blinking rapidly as he realizes that he did not kill Giorno. He stumbles into his bathroom, washes himself, looks at the mirror, looks at the gun, takes it and points it between his eyes, pulls the trigger, and leaves for work.

When he arrives at Passione's headquarters, he heads straight to his office to look over the legal documents Giorno asked him to look over. He doesn't bother to greet anyone since no one bothers to greet him. He's the traitor of Passione and he's fine with that. It keeps people away which means there are fewer people to perform for and fewer people to try to keep away.

The day goes by as usual. Fugo works through his pile until there’s almost nothing there and then some guy he never got to learn the name of drops a bunch of more work for him to do just before lunch. And Fugo won’t eat lunch until he’s burnt out or Sheila E comes to collect him from his office and forces him to eat. Fortunately for him, Sheila E is away on a mission with Murolo so he can do whatever he wants to do without anyone giving him those disappointed stares.

In all honesty, Fugo feels like he’s mellowed down. The six months away from Passione forced him to at least hold back most of his anger and he played piano in some restaurant as a job and he was good at it.

But he didn’t enjoy it. After playing, he would go home, wreck his already shitty apartment and return everything back to how it was before he crashed on his couch. So maybe the reason why he feels like he’s submerged underwater half the time because he feels like he’s playing a piece on the piano before he has to go home, just going through the motions, and pretending.

Fugo stretches his arms and looks at the clock on his desk. 10:45 pm. Time to head home then.

Then it all comes crashing down.

Or more like, Fugo feels like he’s been ripped out of the water, like he’s gone on those stupidly high and fast waterslides that children aren’t allowed on because when you hit the water, you tumble around and experience some kind of vertigo, except it’s in reverse and it feels worse.

Because today is the last day he saw all of them alive. The last day they were all together as a team. The last day before he betrayed them, except he always felt like they betrayed him and not the other way around.

He’s never even visited their graves.

It hits him so hard that he stumbles out of his office and he doesn’t care if there are people around because he just needs to get out, get out, get out.

He’s in the garden before he knows it, and he sinks into the grass and tries to breathe because what the fuck, he feels like he stopped breathing that day and only remembered to breathe now. He feels like crying but he keeps it in and just tries to remember how to properly push air in and out of his lungs even if it stings because in the past, there would always be a warm hand on his back and a soothing voice, and he knows that person will never stand behind him anymore and give comfort because he’s dead.

Minutes pass by and slowly, Fugo can breathe like normal again even if he’s so fucking tired. He collapses on the grass and stares at the night sky, distantly remembering his astronomy lessons when he was still Pannacotta Fugo, child of the wealthy Fugos.

He can hear grass being stepped on and gentle footsteps approaching him and it’s no surprise to see golden curls hanging low and emerald eyes staring back at him.

Fugo hates Giorno so, so much.

"I hate you," Fugo tells his boss. "I wish you were dead. I hope you die the most painful death possible."

Giorno blinks. "Okay. That's fine." He says, slowly. "You're not the only one who wants that."

"When I sleep, I dream that I kill you. I've killed you hundreds of times." Fugo continues, slowly pulling himself up and sitting down beside the most powerful boy in Italy, their knees almost brushing.

Giorno doesn’t shy away, instead, he moves closer to Fugo and their knees are touching. “How do you kill me?” His voice is barely above a whisper and Fugo would laugh if he could but this isn’t the time.

"Different ways. Sometimes I strangle you, sometimes I shoot you, sometimes I hit you with a book, sometimes I stab you."

"No Purple Haze?"

Fugo pauses but shakes his head. "No Purple Haze," he confirms.

Giorno is silent for a minute more and Fugo looks back at the stars, his mind silent for the first time in months.

“I’m sorry. I’m not good at this,” Giorno finally says and he flops down on the grass. “I should’ve let Mista get you.”

Fugo snorts. “Why? Mista doesn’t care,” there’s no malice in his voice, and it’s just a fact.

“No, he does. It’s just… you know, he needs time,” Giorno explains. “Just like you needed time.”

Fugo leans in closer to Giorno and he realizes this is the first time they’ve spoken to each other in months, like, really spoken to each other. It almost feels like a dream when Giorno lifts his hand up and touches Fugo’s cheek like he’s made of glass.

“I hate you,” Fugo says, leaning more into Giorno’s hand. “I wish they were the ones alive and I was the one who died. I wish they were the ones alive and that you never came into our lives.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m glad you’re alive,” Giorno says, eyes wide and far too bright. Fugo wants to pull away because his mind is starting to catch up and time away from Passione taught him some things academia and murder couldn’t teach him.

“This doesn’t usually work like this either,” Fugo points out.

Giorno uses his other hand to pull Fugo closer and Fugo can see more things he’s sure no one’s never noticed before like the fact that Giorno has the lightest freckles on his face and that his lashes are really long. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better now,” Giorno tells him. “You should go visit a therapist. We can visit the graves together. I’ll make sure you eat lunch somehow.”

Fugo wants to laugh again but all he feels is a year's worth of grief finally burst and he’s crying again like he did in the restaurant except it feels more real rather than that half-assed performance that felt too perfect and picturesque. Giorno pulls him even closer until there’s no space between them and Fugo buries his face into the crook of Giorno’s neck and feels Giorno hold him tighter.

“I thought that giving you space would be better. I’m really sorry, Panna. I felt like I came off as too much when we first met again. Then I didn’t know how to push anymore and really, that’s no excuse but I’ll do better.” Giorno whispers.

“You’re good, don’t worry,” Fugo takes a shaky breath, half lying, half telling the truth. “Don’t worry.”

Fugo peels him away from Giorno and helps his boss up. Their foreheads are touching and Giorno’s holding onto his hand so gently, it makes Fugo feel sick again. But he squeezes back and knows that they’ll be okay one day.

Not today, but one day.

Notes: wrote this last night listening to fiona apple and just thinking abt phf and how fugo is 16 and giorno is 15 and they're probably not as in touch w their feelings like they might think they are :| or something lol

if u have thoughts or anything feel free to tell me in the comments :>

#peace out i will never write anything for this again #i think #fugio #fanfic #jjba #purple haze feedback #jojo's bizzare adventure #vento aureo #golden wind

49 notes · View notes

brownandblackpearls · 4 years ago

Text

☾☄✯☁ Moonlit Bath in the Oasis (Asra x BlackReader) Pt. 2

PART 2 SUMMARY:

After a long, harsh journey, the Beast delivers you and Asra to a hidden oasis in the desert for some relaxation and rejuvenation. You wander off to take a bath in the oasis’s mystic pool. Asra decides to join you. To make a long story short, neither of you focus on bathing.

─── Asra x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── Nighttime, aftercare, penetrative sex, praise kink, magic lotion, body oils, pretty bubbling pools

☾ previous. ☾ next.

.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

Your eyes trail every move Asra makes as he undresses to enter the pool. When his hands grip his trousers to slide them off, you have half a mind to look away and spare him some privacy, some modesty. And yet, you see the ripples of muscles in his abdomen and he leans down, the cords of his neck and he tilts his head to keep his eyes on you, the sinew in his legs as they appear before you.

You see everything.

...And something tells you that Asra wants you to see it all.

Impressed, is what you are until your eyes draw to his lower half. Your brows nearly raise to your hairline, shocked. You look at him there for a beat too long before dragging your eyes back up to his face, humbled. You are more than pleased with what you’ve seen.

You expect teasing or smugness from him, but Asra simply gives you a somewhat shy smile before dipping his toes in the water, testing the temperature.

Satisfied, he jumps in and sends waves splashing your way.

“Aah!”

You shriek, raising your hands to try and fail to cover your face from the spray.

Caught between groans and giggles, you turn away wipe the water out of your eyes before feeling a heat at your back, pressing in on it.

“Can I touch you?”

His voice calls gently from behind over the rush of the bubbles and jets in the pool.

“Yes,” you respond confidently, waiting. “Please.”

It is the word needed to draw him closer, to line him up against your back until every inch of your back and his front is touching. You can feel all of him.

Asra gently moves your soaked, springy hair aside to reveal the soft crux of your shoulder and neck, tucking his chin securely there, peering at you as his arms snake around your sides and his hands clasp together right over your navel.

You inhale slowly and the rise of your stomach does little to ease his clutch on you, skin on skin. You can feel his breath brush against your ear, his wet hair against your neck, and the entirety of his body pressed up behind you.

With anyone else, you might’ve felt encroached upon, smothered, or unsafe. With Asra, it is the furthest from those things. With him, you feel secure, happy, wanted, and cared for. Like a little treasure belonging only to yourself, and often, to him.

His lips kiss at your neck and you let out a deep sigh, feeling his kisses trail from underneath your ear, down your shoulder, to the nape of your neck, and back up the edge of your hairline where the softest curls dance against his nosebridge as he continues to mark your skin. You feel the grazing of teeth once, twice, before he is kissing back up your neck to bite at your ear.

You love the feel of it, closing your eyes and furrowing your brow in concentration on the feeling. You feel hot all over, and only his hands seem to soothe the ache. You paw at his clasped hands until they separate, urging them upward with your own hands. Asra’s are quick to follow your lead, smoothing up your belly, across your sides, until hesitating. You sigh again, leaning back into him and resting your head back on his shoulder.

You pull at his hands to let him wordlessly know that it’s alright, that this is something you want, something he can have if he wants it too.

Finally, you feel his broad, mage hands cup and knead your breasts. You could almost cry from relief, every trailing of his fingers lighting nerves across your collarbones, shooting down to your toes and right back up to your nipples that he continues to graze.

The jets aren’t enough to smother the sensation of him hardening behind you, pressing against your backside with need. You can feel the aborted rocking of his hips as he tries to control himself and focus on pleasing you with his mouth, his hands.

You know Asra will make no move without your initiation. Not because he lacks the edge, confidence, or strength to do so…especially since you have an inkling suspicion that this is not your first time with him, that there may have been something in the long forgotten past that lets Asra know your weak spots, know just how to handle you…no, Asra hesitates because he values you your consent overall. Your participation is just as necessary to him as his is necessary to you.

You both stoke the fires of one another’s lust when you both know for certain that both of you want it, need it, crave it.

You roll your ass against him, grinding into his steeling member and eating up the sounds of his quickening breath, his lusty groans, and his tightening hold. You rock until he is pulling you back by your middle, seated on his lap. How…?

You look and realize you’ve both moved towards the pool’s edge, and Asra has conjured an interior seated rim, submerged deep in the water. He sits there now, with you atop of him, back still facing him as he grinds up into you with better leverage, one hand purchased on the underwater seat and the other hand purchased on your chest.

You have all too much fun grinding against him as he moves back against you, the mystic pool changing colors around you.

When his nimble hand finds your hardening nipple and begins to tweak and roll it under his thick finger pads, you can’t help but croon in delight. The move shoots lightning through you and you can’t stop from bouncing firmly against his member now, eager to give him as much pleasure as you’re feeling.

You’re certain you must look desperately horny and silly, but you can’t help it. He makes you feel so good and your body responds to him before your mind can process it.

“Look at you,” Asra croons, punctuated by groans induced from your gyrating, his voice several octaves lower than what you’re used to. The sudden bass in his voice is enough to make you moan a little higher, bounce a little faster. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself. Immensely.”

You feel as though you’re going to cum and he hasn’t even gotten inside of you yet. You want the orgasm to hit while you’re both tied together, want him to feel your body curl and massage him until he blows too, until he fills you up and leaves no space between the two of you.

“✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ...” Your lips begin to move.

You whisper the incantation you studied ages ago, after you’d finally realized how much you wanted this, how you wanted to be ready for the night it happened.

It’s a fertility ward and a cleansing spell, to rid you both of any possible maladies and keep pregnancy at bay despite any close-contact activities you may engage in.

Asra gasps as the enchantment takes hold of you both, simmering underneath your skins.

You know that he recognizes it from the words you say, that he can now see what you intend to do.

“When did I teach you that?” He says, breathless.

“You didn’t. But I am enjoying myself,” you rasp back in answer, fumbling under the water for his shaft before you finally grip it. He bites down a moan against a finger and you ease your grip, turning your head to kiss his shoulder in apology.

“Are you hurt? Perhaps I’m too excited,” you frown, pausing.

“Not at all,” Asra insists hotly, quick to get over the pain. “It’s alright. I’m excited, too.”

You smile as he consoles you, kissing his lips for a moment before sitting back against him, trying your best to feel through the water and aim the tip of his length between your legs.

Asra murmurs that you wait a moment, before he reaches down through the water and lifts both of your thighs up and apart from behind, spreading you wide for him. He places a hand on you, between your legs, skillfully parting your labia with a scissoring finger motion, and trailing his touches from your bud to your perineum. He whispers his own chant, and you can feel both his erection and your insides grow slick and moist, enough so that it contrasts the water surrounding you. You feel the slickness in you seep out cover everything between your legs.

“Are you sure...?” He asks again, pausing for you. Always watchful, he is, always observant, and caring.

“Are you...?” You inquire back, twisting your neck to look at him. You’re seriously pondering whether or not this is something he actually desires or if it is just another way he seeks to please you, but perhaps not so much himself.

Asra sees the meaning lurking behind your words and kisses your lips, warding all the doubt away.

“I’ve been sure, longer than you know.”

He says it with a hint of longing and romance, but you can’t help but to mischievously wonder how many times he’s thought of bending you over and having you, ravishing you, all while you were none the wiser. His eyes can say so much, but only when he wants them to, the quirks of loving a Gemini man.

“What is it?” Asra wonders, beginning to massage your pussy, spying the mischief in your eyes. “What are you thinking about…?”

“All the times you’ve wanted to fuck me,” you murmur back, rocking against his ministrations and biting back a moan. “All the times you’ve wanted me laid out for you, and I had no idea. Did you think of doing this to me when you would teach me?”

Asra’s cheeks redden and he grits his teeth, dipping his finger in you and fucking you with the digits at an almost punishing tempo. You groan, welcoming his touch and spreading wider.

“D-did you...?” You barely repeat, stumbling over your words as pleasure takes hold and Asra, your heart, begins to plunge his fingers over and over into the most sensitive part of you.

“I did.” He admits quietly, the guilt almost smothered by the lust overtaking him. His pupils were widening, darkening as he scooped you over and over, watching your every twitch and jerk.

“Did you want it when w-we were-ah!- at the palace? Help-ping the countess?” You reach for the slit of his shaft, thumbing it and working it as he works you below. It takes some acrobatics to achieve but his long moan is worth it.

“I did.” He dips two more fingers in, thick and steady. Your eyes almost roll up in your head.

“Even when we—?”

“—I wanted it every day. I wanted it so much I felt like an animal. Like some beast of burden with no control, no discipline...just thinking of having you sunrise to nightfall. In my mind, I would pilfer your body from sun-up to sun-down. Do you really want to know...?”

You try and nod, but Asra pulls his fingers away and spreads your legs, aiming the tip of his length before it breaches you. You can feel the thick cockhead slip past your ring until it is finally inside. You’re gasping now, head back against his shoulders as he slowly, crawlingly, pushes more and more of himself inside of you.

“There have been nights in the shop, after you retired to your rooms…you would look so good in the moonlight, so enticing in the sleepwear that I made just for you, that I’d want to rip it off of you and keep you naked for myself.”

He is halfway in now, and your heart is racing, pulsing hard enough that you’re sure he can feel thrumming through his cock.

“There have been days, when you’ve been at Nadia’s side listening to her babbling, where I wanted nothing else but to push you across her ridiculous dining table and make you my meal. To claim you, the most important person in that castle, before them all. There have been days where we’ve been in Vesuvian streets and I’d catch the way the sunlight lit off your eyes, your hair, I’d catch your scent, and I’d want to crowd you into an alleyway and do whatever I wanted to you.”

He is seated fully in you now, as you mewl and rock against him, thrilled to feel the vibrations of both of your voices rock through your body. The stretch is magnificent.

“I’d call myself a bad man,” Asra starts, grinding the last of himself into you, “but it seems as if you like it.”

You yelp higher and higher and he begins to thrust into you in earnest, holding you close. One of his hands dips below the water again, moving to massage your clit in time with his thrusts.

“I d-do like it-!” You exclaim, near-salivating on the rush of pleasure he sends through you with each pelvic blow. “If it’s y-you, I’ll always want it. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Don’t promise something like that,” Asra groans, fucking into you deeper. It punches little sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make, and he seems to feed off of those sounds, thrilled. “I might just take you up on it.”

“Please, please, please,” you begin to beg, over and over his name falls from your lips over and over. You feel it blooming in you before you even understand it, a tidal wave faster and harder than your own fingers have ever brought upon you during those long, late nights in the shop without your teacher.

Without Asra.

You scream before the pleasure chokes it off, your entire body shaking as Asra slows in you, showing mercy and doing everything in his power to stave off his own fall over the edge. You can feel his thighs and arms clench in effort, his rod still thick and hard inside your melting walls.

He crowds behind you, whispering adornments in your ear that send wave after wave through you.

“Yes, take what you need...you’re so good for me...so gorgeous like this, so open...”

Asra lifts you off of his cock, rubbing consolingly at your aching pussy before standing you both up and turning you to face him. He holds your gasping frame up as he swivels you both around, planting your back against the stone of the pool’s edge. Understanding dawns in your eyes as he watches you hungrily.

Again.

He wants to make you cum again.

If you can infer anything from that heated gaze, it’s that he plans on making you cum all night long, in as many ways as possible.

Your cunt throbs and aches, yet a need in you rears its head up. You decide quickly that you want all that he has to offer, even if it may end up being more than you can take. You doubt that, somehow. You know you will take all of him.

Asra lifts your legs out the water, the buoyancy of the pool water aiding the both of you as you float into the position he wants you in: legs apart, facing him, straddling his hips. He kisses up your dripping wet arm, whispering again.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what..?” Your post-orgasm-addled brain struggles to comprehend his words.

“Did you mean it, when you said I can do whatever I want with you?”

You look into his hungry eyes, a hunger you’ve rarely seen on him until tonight.

He’s hidden it well, as you’ve never suspected the depths of his desire…but perhaps for too long, it seems. Something bristles behind the edge of it all, roaring to be released. Your aching pussy is proof of it.

“I meant it,” you promise. You did, after all.

Asra smirks smugly this time, securing your legs around him and moving in to mark your neck. You feel his hand guide himself back into your body, and you part all too easily for him, almost embarrassed at the quickness of it.

“Then I’m holding you to it,” Asra says against your heated skin, “because tonight...? You’re mine.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*・゜゜・．✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work including this one. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ previous. ☾ next.

95 notes · View notes

lost-inthedream · 4 years ago

Text

Swimming time leads to heated moment with SF9

☆★ Requested for the writting party

NSFW alert, but it’s more sensual than smut.

For this reaction, let us consider the following ambience: a quite large pool of a rented house in a Summer night + dim yellowish lights + starry peaceful night + holidays.

Scenarios under the cut. Have fun!!

➹ Youngbin:

Likes the idea of swimming at night as a way to relax your bodies from the exciting day you spent together. Helps you at floating on the water, delicately gliding his palms through your back. You feel your spine being crossed by nice caresses, which are also somehow inciting. You know he is not trying anything with you because he said he was tired but, as the man you love, he easily awakes your needs. “I won’t relax with you touching me like this.”

You make the poor guy confused. He stops his motions, resting his hands on your low back instead. You look into each other eyes and he fades his serious expression away replacing it with a loose smirk. “ash, you!” It is not a repressive comment at all.

He takes you to the pool deck in his arms and lies you there, only to lifts himself too and cage you with his arms and legs, water dropping from his hair to your face “I know an alternative way to relax you good.”

“Tell me more about it.”

He leans closer, now propped on his elbows, his hips land on yours and you close your eyes imagining the beautiful love that both of you are about to perform.

➹ Inseong:

Loves that a perfect pool is available only for the two of you whenever you want to jump in. You both orbit around one another with these child-like smiles, softly moving your limbs without fighting the water weight. He extend his arms to call you for him. The affable gesture makes you feel attracted right away and lead to hi. You always craves being grabbed in his zealous embrace.

He holds you in a way that your feet cannot touch the bottom of the deluxe tank. His digits pressing onto your back close to your butt and, higher on your shoulder blade. His neck is right before your face, so accessible that you cannot help setting your lips open there. Inseong sighs

“Y/N, why are you sucking me now?”

“I don’t know” you confess now wrapping a hand on the area right under his hair.

He plays with the knot that tights your bikini bra and lets you be. You get sure that eventually your bra is going to be discarded and floating on the water. Your hands plunge again into the water to scratch his broad back and draw some new groans off his mouth.

➹ Jaeyoon:

After actually swimming around and using so much energy, you and him eventually rest on the shallow area of the pool, the soft night breeze being tender to your cool skin. “I am living my best life. Can I say the same about you?” You peck him on the lips and nod. Being alone in a fancy big pool is something hard to top.

You are still looking into each other’s eyes, so you can see when some idea crosses his mind like a comet. “Let’s make it better” he suddenly says.

You tilt your head but take pleasure in his excitement. He pulls you close to him and slicks your wet hair back. Your chest touching his bare one only having your bikini thin fabric as a barrier.

“What about a last swimming?”he suggests before sliding to the deeper area and you observe as he does something that you can’t discern because the dim lights don’t really help. Despite that, in some seconds he shows you his swim briefs in his hands, a daring smirk. You would be too stupid if you not swam completely naked and then did something else underwater.

➹ Dawon:

Being there with his bae makes him so calm and silent. You both feel completely free and inaccessible to the worries from the outside world, plus your drinks are near at hand. What else can you need? You sip from your cup as he remains ethereal in front of you.

“Can I drink a little bit from yours?” you ask.

He handles you his cocktail, that was still laying in the deck, right away. You suck from the straw and let the cool liquid cross your tongue and throat. Your feedback is a soft smile, the stick still between your lips.

Before you sip one more time he takes the cup off your hand and give you his lips instead. For a brief time your cold tongue touches his, still warm, still into the nice water his own flavor. “It surely tastes better from your mouth” he says pulling back for a brief moment.

His words turn that key inside you and all you can do is smash his lips again and feel his back muscles underneath your hands as he forces your panties down by its side straps without pulling them down for real. You slide your hands down and drag them into his swim briefs.

➹ Zuho:

Takes you up on his back and roams around in the water. It starts as a playful activity but you eventually run out all of your energy and just stay there close one to another. You snuggle on his hair and feel your body so lazy. He lets you go down and reach the bottom with your feet. Now that you are face to face you give some attention to the light that reflects on the water and projects wavy sparkles on his face.

“Ju, you’re so pretty.” You sigh.

“You’ve already told me it earlier and millions of times” He chuckles.

You cup his face and sweetly explain the water reflects. He Notices it happens with your face too and takes you by the hand towards the pool degrees.

“Why don’t you take it off?” You are sitting by the stairs and half of your torso is out of the water. You know what he is thinking about, so you just shake your head slightly faking disapproval and untie the knot behind your neck, letting the bra cup fall down and expose your breasts. “Listen, you are the prettiest under this light” he complements you as he comes over and shifting his gaze between your face and your tits.

➹ Rowoon:

Seokwoo has not really noticed how much he needed a holiday out of city until you tell him that you wanted to lend this house with him for some days. Now you were both spending your first night swimming in that luxurious pool. “Now I’m sure you are my angel, Y/N” he speaks out when you reach the pool edge together after crossing its entire extent in a lazy speed. “Why?” you ask him finding it a funny comment.

“Because you brought me here and I’m feeling so good.”

“Of course, I brought my little baby here” you joke at his word choice and poke his nose.

He lifts you so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “Maybe not little but yours and I like when you carry me to especial places.”

You stay like that for a while, without moving more than your mouths and tongues, tilting your heads in opposite directions and breathing through little pauses, until you stop. “Should we get out of here?”

He rejects your idea with a head movement and puts you sitting on the deck, his hands softly part your legs.

➹ Yoo Taeyang:

You and him end up occupying the same sun lounger, being bathed by the moonlight and watched by the stars that night. You even tried to stay each on your own chair but it was impossible. You were now sitting between his legs, your bodies and swimsuits still wet despite your already dry skin. “Baby, I guess I saw a shooting star!” you shout excited.

“Really?”

Taeyang’s reaction makes you furrow your eyebrows. You thought you were both looking at the sky. So you rearrange yourself and face him, now kneeling on the space right in front of his crotch. “Where is your mind at, Tae?”

He laughs it off but you keep waiting for any answer from him. “Okay, I was trying to not get a boner and I’ve succeed. You see.”

You look down on his swim briefs suddenly feeling your lips curl in excitement. Your hands fall like a feather over his soft clothed member, you draw minimal caresses. “Why do you think it would be a problem?”

He pulls you on his lap incite you to move with soft pats on your butt.

➹ Hwiyoung:

You do not notice it, but you are, in fact, tiptoeing towards the pool. Inside it, your boyfriend waited. However he is now distracted because you took some (a lot of) time to go downstairs and meet him. You stare as he crosses the pool by swimming, and getting away from the edge where you stopped at. He looks at your direction as he reaches the opposite end. “Good job, Kyun!” you cheer loud.

He smiles slicking some hair back. “Why are you wearing that?”

How are you supposed to answer to such question? By “that” he certainly means your bikini but what is wrong with it?

“We’re alone. We can swim in a more comfortable way.” He explains getting suddenly embarrassed.

You don’t remove your items but enters the water graciously and floats to him. You first action after he takes your arms is getting your hands down on him and checking his bottom parts. As expected, you find his dick free and hold it. “Be honest. Do you really asked me to swim?”

➹ Chani:

You have just swum to the edge so you could eat some grapes. There was some fresh fruits set over a pretty silver tray. You had your back to Chani as you pluck some purple spheres from its bunch and inserted them into your mouth. You do not see him coming but, his arms wrap around you and he places his chin on your shoulder. The grape that you have in your grip you offer to him, who opens his mouth and chew on it.

You keep taking fruits and feeding both of you. He sometimes peck your shoulders, his rubs are nonstop all over your waist and stomach. His chest glued to your back, you can even sense his soft clad cock, until it is not soft anymore.

“Chani?”

He hums back while chewing, now his hands are crossing your panties line.

You turn your face to the side and look him into the eyes until he fades that serious face and actually tell you what he is planning.

It does not take much until you hold the side of the pool and let him rub himself against your butt.

#sf9 reactions #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 smut

127 notes · View notes

plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 4 years ago

Text

There's More Than One Way To Start An Apocalypse (2)

Summary: The Infinity War had happened and Thanos had won. 5 years later the Avengers try one last crazy idea to save everyone they lost, but a mysterious woman from Natasha's past drops in unexpectedly derailing their plans. They soon find out that Thanos was now not the apocalypse they needed to stop.

Fandoms: Avengers, Supernatural

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader (previous), Natasha Romanoff x Reader (previous)

Warnings: Angst, The Damn Snap, Mentions of depression and self-loathing, violence, mentions of death, copious amounts of blood, cursing, mentions of past trauma

Masterlist

2: Ghosts of my Youth

"Nat, who the hell are they?" Tony demanded. He got no response from her though. She stood rooted to the spot, face pale and eyes wide. She looked like she had seen a ghost or more accurately her worst nightmare.

"Nat!" Tony bellowed and that seemed to snap her out of her daze.

She practically flew across the room to the woman the boy had been carrying. She gently cradled your head and placed it on her lap. She brushed the matted bloody hair away from your face and quickly assessed the rest of your injuries. All the while whispering desperate pleas.

"Tony. Bruce. We need to get her in the Cradle," she said frantically.

" Nat, I - " Bruce started before stopping himself. Even the Cradle couldn't heal that much blood loss. "I'm sorry - "

"There's still a pulse. Just do it!" she screamed in frustration, tears pouring down her face. "Now!" Seeing the look on Natasha's usually stoic face jolted everyone else into action. Tony and Bruce ran out to fire up the Cradle. Steve fell to his knees next to Natasha, scooped up the unknown woman, and sprinted to the Medical Bay. Thor picked up the unconscious boy and rushed after Steve.

The rest of them took Natasha and herded her toward the rest. Everything felt hazy to her, the voices around her sounded like they were underwater and she barely registered their arrival at the Medical Bay. All she could picture was your unconscious body and your blood staining through her clothes.

There was so much blood. She couldn't understand why there was so much blood. She couldn't grasp why you were dying.

"Nat, you have to see this," Tony beckoned from the screens. Bruce stood beside him with the same puzzled look on his face. Natasha crossed the room in large quick strides and scanned the monitors.

They had put both you and the boy in separate Cradles. The boy's scans showed that the cradle was working as intended. Yours however... She swallowed thickly.

"I don't understand this, Nat." Tony mumbled while toggling quickly through different screens trying to grasp for an explanation.

"What's happening to them?" Steve asked paying no mind to the blood that was covering a good part of his midsection. He felt strangely protective toward the girl in particular.

"The boy is responding extremely well. He's healing at an abnormally rapid pace," Bruce started to explain while shooting a meaningful look at Nat. "The girl's condition is more complicated. The Cradle has slowed it down but it looks like her cells are destroying each other. Her insides are disintegrating as we speak."

"I've never seen anything like this," Tony ran a hand through his face. "She's basically eating herself alive."

What the hell did you do? Natasha squeezed her eyes shut and her fists clenched. She was pissed off at you now. Years apart and this was how you two would reunite? She couldn't accept that. She won't accept it. There had to be a way.

Her eyes suddenly snapped open and she turned her head to your dying figure. A memory from her youth sprang onto the forefront of her mind. It was the sole instance that you were sick or injured enough to need the infirmary.

"Bruce, we need to use the serum on her."

Bruce opened and closed his mouth. He shook his head. Surely he misheard her.

"Nat, you can't mean what I think you mean."

Tony ignored Bruce's hesitation and rushed across the room to the shelves filled with various concoctions. He made a beeline for one cabinet in particular that the rest of the team never saw open. He pressed his palm on the wood and a scanner suddenly appeared. A light beep sounded followed by a ray of light where Tony aligned his eyes to. A lock clicked open and he wrenched the cabinet open ignoring the freezing cold air from inside as he retrieved a tray stocked with 36 clear vials.

Steve stilled as he recognized the labels. "Is that - ?"

"The same Jamba Juice order that created you and Winter Bear? Yup!" Tony interrupted him. He took the tray and went directly to where you lay unmoving in the Cradle. He pressed a few buttons on the side and a compartment opened perfectly sized for the vials.

"You've been working on this? On super soldiers?" Steve fumed. He wasn't sure if he was more angry or disgusted. This kind of science was beyond dangerous.

"It's called a side project, Cap. You should try to find one too," Tony replied totally focused on prepping the vials to put into the machine.

"Tony, this is no time to joke!"

At Steve's reprimand, Tony stopped what he was doing to stand face to face with him.

"You're right, Cap. This is no time for jokes, but neither is it time for your patented brand of righteousness," Tony said through gritted teeth. "Right now a girl is dying in the compound. I don't know who the fuck she is or what she is for that matter, but she matters to Nat. I don't know about you, but I'm going to trust Nat's lead on this one. You can chew us out after we save Nat's friend."

Steve's jaw clenched and he was struggling to control his anger. He looked at Nat and saw the heartbreak on her face. He was reminded of Bucky and that was enough to change his mind. He turned back to Tony and nodded.

"Where do you need me?"

Tony sighed in relief. "Beside the Cradle. She might thrash around when the serum gets injected. That lid needs to remain closed."

They all took their places and Bruce signalled to Tony that he could initialize. A flip of a switch and the Cradle whirred. Steve could see through the glass pane how multiple needles were now puncturing your skin. He winced and couldn't help but look away.

"I think it's working," Bruce whispered. "But I don't think it's enough to save her."

"Put another dose in," Natasha said plainly.

"Nat," Bruce warned carefully. "That's twice what was even put in Steve."

Tony pulled out more vials and placed them in the compartment. He flipped the switch and the needles descended on you once more. Natasha's heart warmed at Tony taking her side.

"She's stabilizing but her cells are still consuming itself," Bruce stated gripping his hair the tension getting to him.

"Give her more," Natasha ordered.

Everyone looked at her with shock. Even Tony hesitated now. She knew it was risky, but you could either definitely die or just maybe die. She had to take that chance. She looked at each and every person in that room.

"Please," she begged her voice thick with emotion. "I can't lose her too."

"Fuck it." Tony's voice broke through the tense silence following Natasha's words.

He promptly grabbed all the remaining bottles on the tray and stuffed them in the compartment. The machine came to life once more louder than the previous times and for what felt like forever it was the only sound in the room as they waited for the results.

Bruce could feel all eyes on him, but he willed his unease to the side to focus on the vitals projected on the screens.

"Oh my god," Bruce mumbled.

"What? What is it?" Natasha asked though she was afraid of the answer. She had closed her eyes and looked away from the monitors, too scared to see she had failed you.

"She's stable."

Natasha's eyes snapped open and searched the monitors, desperately praying that Bruce was telling the truth. Then she saw it. Your cells were no longer ripping you apart. Your internal organs seemed to be rebuilding and your wounds looked to be stitching itself together.

Her knees suddenly gave beneath her and she fell to the floor. It was Clint who caught her and held her as the hysteria finally took over. She sobbed loudly and laughed in relief. She was exhausted but you were alive. You were going to live.

Natasha didn't notice that Bruce had crept behind her with a sedative loaded syringe. the formidable assassin would give him hell later for getting the drop on her, but for now she needed help to calm down. There would be time later for answers.

Masterlist

#avengers #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #avengers x supernatural #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #captain america x reader #captain america fic #dean winchester x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #nephilim!reader #apocalypse #there's more than one way to start an apocalypse #avengers endgame #angel!reader #nephilim reader #angel reader

193 notes · View notes

honeymoonjin · 5 years ago

Text

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 taehyung x reader ft yoongi || 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 8.5k || 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 smut

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 riddled with insomnia, you’d just about do anything to get a good night’s rest. enter sandman.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 masturbation (m), voyeurism, exhibitionism, public sex, mile high club, oral (m receiving), choking, deepthroating, cockwarming but in her throat, throat bulge, way more male oral than i’ve ever written oop, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, riding, tentacles, yes you did read that correctly user honeymoonjin is expanding her wares, buckets of cum, like really a ridiculous amount of it, is it somnophilia if they’re fucking in her dreams?, cum eating, rough nipple play, hair pulling, belly bulge, creampie

many thanks to @jamaisjoons for the gorgeous banner, she really outsold xx many thanks as well to @honey-boyyoongi for beta reading and helping a lot on plot. i wouldn’t have finished this fic without her xx this fic is a part of the monster smash project at ksmutclub : )

It’s a shit fair.

You make sure to tell Yoongi this several times throughout the afternoon, more emphatically as the hours drag on, but he’s too focussed on giving heart-eyes to the young man tending the water pistol stall. The man, who has held an unbelievably cheery grin all night, at some point got caught in the stream of a kid with poor aim, and though it’s warm his shirt still hasn’t dried, leaving a rather promiscuous set of dark spots on his chest behind the translucent cotton. You think Yoongi might be drooling.

You’ve just about given up wandering around aimlessly waiting for your friend to get the courage to actually approach the guy, when a stall catches your attention. Unsurprising, considering how gaudy and kitschy it is. Heavy embroidered tapestries form a makeshift curtain across the entrance to the booth, and above rests a sign with neon striplighting that reads Enter Sandman. You bite your lip, ignoring Yoongi’s impatient tug on your arm. You don’t remember seeing it on any of your other turns around the small fairground, though you can’t imagine how you could’ve possibly missed it.

Without breaking your gaze, you address Yoongi. “I’m gonna check out some stalls.”

“Come on, you’re gonna ditch me in my time of need?” Yoongi’s voice is playfully lilting, the kind that lets you know it’s okay to leave while simultaneously promising that he’ll complain about your abandoning him later, probably at four in the morning when neither of you can get to sleep.

“Yup,” you mumble blankly, and shake off his grip, making your way across the slightly uneven dirt and trampled grass to reach the stall. You feel drawn, strangely, to the narrow dark triangle of shadow between the folds of the curtain. It’s only once you get nearer that you make out the patterns of the delicate stitching: swirls of gold thread weave around figures, horizontal or curled up, all in dull shades of brown and beige. Entranced, you reach out your fingers to follow the swirls of gold. The tapestry, instead of ending in edges over the entrance, is folded so that the pictures trail around the edge. Without thinking to politely announce your presence, you simply slip inside, feeling the late summer humidity lead to a shady coolness.

It’s dark inside, and silent. Nothing illuminates the small room except for a single candle on a table, a black tall taper, drops of wax running cleanly down the sides to stain the golden tablecloth. It’s luckily enough to just make out the reflective glint of the gold thread, and you follow the tapestry slowly as it runs all the way along the walls inside. Part of you feels this is futile, and you shouldn’t be poking around in an empty stall when the owner was out, but still you walk deeper into the booth, the texture of embroidery teasing the tips of your fingers.

At one point, closer to the back of the room, your shadow begins to block the candlelight, and you squint, barely making out the trail of golden swirls. An odd protrusion in the wall causes you to step back, losing the trail for a moment but picking it up, a bright gold patch, perfectly circular and shining like-

“What are you doing in my tent?”

You gasp and jump back, bumping your lower back on a wooden chair tucked into the table. A hand shoots out, latches tightly onto your wrist. You freeze, following the arm up a sleeve, and to a chest, black silk with a pendant dangling just below his collarbones, a single gold coin. Your eyes jump up, apology on your tongue, but you can’t force your mouth to move when you’re greeted with two gleaming eyes, trained solely on you.

No, not gleaming. Glowing.

You swallow hard as he blinks slowly, eyebrows narrowed and partially blocking what looks like swirling irises of molten gold, a depth that draws you in. “I- sorry,” you croak finally, feeling his grip around your wrist loosen, the delicate bones aching. “It did say ‘enter’.”

You can’t be sure in the dim lighting, but a slight flash of white makes you think he’s smirking at you. “My sign says ‘Enter Sandman’. Are you a sandman?”

You blink slowly. “No.”

“Hm, I didn’t think so. I am the sandman. And you are the trespasser.”

Your mind feels hazy, two beats too slow. “Do you want me to… leave, then?”

His hand lets go of yours completely. It leaves you feeling oddly unmoored. “You could leave,” he offers lightly, “but then you’d never get my help.”

You want to turn around, some illogical urge to make sure the exit is still free, that the fair is still in full swing outside. It feels so quiet in here. But you don’t want to turn your back on him. The hairs on the back of your neck are at full attention and your instincts are going haywire like a faulty compass, unsure what to feel. You swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Your help?”

The gilded glow of his eyes - some modern fashion contacts, no doubt - gently illuminate the dark eyelashes that frame them. They narrow at the corners, like he’s grinning at you. “My help,” he echoes. “You look tired, little girl. Can’t get to sleep?”

The blood in your veins runs cold. In the cool shade of the tent, goosebumps break out along your arms. “How did you know that? Are you meant to be a psychic or something?”

His tongue clicks in irritation. “I’m a sandman. I believe I told you that. I can promise you restful sleep every night. For a price.”

You scoff, the reality of the situation dawning on you. Cool shtick, you allow. The dude certainly had a good way of setting up atmosphere. “Let me guess, $29.99 plus tax? Or buy a whole week for a hundred? Thanks, but no thanks.”

You turn before he manages to reply. In fact, he remains still in the time it takes you to stumble around the table in the dark, making your way to the bright sliver of light streaming in through the folds of the tapestry. Your hand is on the rough fabric before you hear his honeyed voice again.

“My price isn’t currency,” he states simply.

Your hand remains frozen in the air. Damn you and your constant curiosity. “What is it, then?” you ask, twisting around. Now that your silhouette isn’t blocking the candlelight, you can make out a vague outline. He’s tall, but you already knew that from the height of his eyes. “Your price, I mean.”

He steps forward, just one foot dusting the exposed ground, but it’s enough to bring him closer to the light, enough for the dancing flame to shine upon his face.

With the lighting from below, heavy shadows are cast below his brows and his hairline, but you can see the warm bronze tone to his skin, and the fine bone structure below it. He’s still smirking, just the slightest quirk to his lips, and his chin is jutted forward smugly. He’s gorgeous.

You can’t help but swallow again as his piercing eyes stay fixed upon you, the slight pink of his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth as his grin widens. “Dream of me.”

You feel like you’re floating. You’re in a bathroom, looking in on a shower. Although the glass should be fully fogged up, with the rest of the room humid with steam, you can see through perfectly, to the naked form inside.

In real life, you would leave immediately, at the very least turn away, but in the hazy logic of your dream, you simply observe.

His head is against the wall, forehead pressed to the tile as water pelts down his tanned back. One hand props him up; the other is between his legs, fisting at an angry red erection. It drips precum with every jerk of his wrist, disappearing amongst the slightly soapy water that circles the drain. You can’t see his face with how the sodden bronzed locks of his hair cling to it.

Although the showerhead seems to be spraying full power, his pleasure-filled groans are what fill your ears. The way they trail off shakily every time he twists his wrist just below the tip, the gruff curses under his breath. You listen and watch as he falls apart from his own ministrations, the muscles in his buttocks clenching as he begins to thrust into his hand, panting slightly.

Like hearing from underwater, you slowly becoming aware of a murmur that the man chants, louder and faster each time, as his hand speeds up. Your mind runs slower than treacle, but you do your best to focus.

“Y/n! Y/n, fuck, yes! God, right there, I’m not gonna last, fuck!”

You mentally recoil, though your body simply continues to watch, honed in on the way his whole body undulates, chasing the pleasure with every fibre of his being. He moans your name, panting onto the slippery tile. He’s close; you can tell by the way his hips shudder.

With a shout, he spills himself onto the floor of the shower, spurts of it catching and running down the wall, pooling at the bottom before washing away. He jerks himself languidly until the last drop runs down over his knuckles, and then lets out a satisfied exhale, using his toes to wipe away the last of it, before straightening up again, rinsing his face in the stream.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he says one last time with a relieved sigh, “mm, thank you.”

Finally, he stretches out an arm blindly to reach for the metal nozzle, cutting the flow of water short. He tips his head back, pressing at his scalp to wring out some of the water, and you catch your first real glimpse of his face. A face you recognise very well. As you stare at the man you had met in the tent, the details of the bathroom blur away, fading into wisps of steam. His eyes, glowing gold, are the last two pinpricks of detail before the dream dissolves into nothingness.

You wake up with a jolt, the sheets underneath you sticky with sweat. It was real. You dismiss the thought with a shake of your head the moment it occurs to you. If anything, it was probably just your mind playing on what had happened as a way of processing it. But then again, you had slept the night through for the first time in almost a year. Speaking of...

Sitting up and stretching languidly, you curse upon viewing your alarm clock. You’d slept through your first class. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” you mutter in resignation, frowning when you become aware of a prickling sensation in your eye.

You rub at it, only to hiss when a sharp stinging sensation attacks the sensitive nerves. Blinking away the tears that spring up, you kick off your blankets, jogging barefoot to the bathroom to inspect it in the mirror.

Leaning in close enough that your breath creates little foggy patches on the glass, you make out some substance clogging up the inner corner of your right eye. There’s some on the left too, though not as much, and you use a wet wipe to carefully brush it out.

In confusion, you pull away the wipe and inspect the grit that’s come away. Like something you might find at a luxurious beach (though you haven’t been to one since you were a kid) a clump of golden sand sits on the moistened fabric, finer and more delicate than caster sugar. The colour reminds you of the hair of the man in your dream, of the man you met the day before. What the fuck? With a deep breath, you force yourself to clear out the rest of the sand from your eyes and clear the worry from your head.

“What sand tent?”

You stare at Yoongi in something mildly related to disgust as he shovels an ungodly amount of beef wrapped in a lettuce leaf into his mouth, dark dipping sauce gathering at the corners of his mouth. “A sandman tent. You know, the big neon sign? It was right beside the little homemade fudge stall.”

He chews noisily, brows furrowed in thought. “The one old Jeanie set up? That was right at the end of the row, Y/n, there wasn’t anything past that.” You go to protest, but Yoongi makes a sound of disagreement. “Seriously, Y/n, there wasn’t. I remember because she was complaining to me about the organisers trying to hide her stall since she’s taking all their business. I went there for some of her earl grey fudge but that certainly wasn’t the tea I ended up getting.”

You roll your eyes at his joke, but your heart isn’t in it. “I went in the tent, though. There was a dude there and everything. He said he’d give me a good night’s sleep if I dreamed of him, and I said sure, and for the first time in fucking ages I actually managed to sleep properly.”

Yoongi’s chopsticks hover over the beef sizzling on the barbecue. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Dream of him,” Yoongi clarifies.

You think back to the sight of him in the shower, streams of clear water washing away the cream he spilled on the floor, of the way his eyes pierced into you right as you woke up. Your cheeks heat at the lewd imagery. Normally your memory of dreams faded over the day - at least, when you were a kid they did. But every detail seems branded in your mind in full definition. Ducking your head, you reach out for a strip of cooked meat and avoid your friend’s gaze.

“Oh my god, you did! Was he hot?”

“Yoongi!”

“What? If he was, I wanna go track him down and get a dream. Why does all the cool shit happen to you?”

You sigh, though a reluctant smile tugs at your lips. You can never stay mad at him and he knows it. “Shut up and eat your damn lettuce wraps,” you mutter petulantly.

Over the lunch spent with Yoongi, you find the thought of the mysterious man slip from your mind, instead feeling reenergised from your good rest and cheered up from the good food and company.

You dream of him again the next night. Not a bathroom this time; an airplane. At the start, it feels like reality, only slightly more...fluid. The strange quality of a dream where everything is simultaneously crystal clear and blurred.

He’s beside you, the middle seat as you take the window. Outside, clouds melt into blue sky and in the cabin there are faceless individuals filling the seats.

“You dirty girl,” the sandman whispers, a hand on the inside of your knee. “You’re soaked for me.”

You widen your eyes and look down. The moment you see the dark patch forming in the crotch of your pants, a wave of arousal hits you as if it’s on a delay. “Yeah,” you breathe in awe. “Want you.”

His eyes sparkle behind thick lashes. “Oh, do you really?”

You bite your lip. “Please.” For a moment he looks remarkably casual, commonplace. He tilts his head at you and leans back, drawing your attention to his dress shirt and tie, and perfectly ironed pants, but when you drop his gaze to look over them, you gasp.

His shirt is unbuttoned all the way, gaping open to reveal his unclothed chest. The tie dangles down his bare skin, guiding your eyes to his crotch, where his pants are lewdly spread open, zipper parted to reveal the waistband of his underwear. A delicate trail of golden hairs dip from below his belly button to underneath the fabric, and without thinking, your hand stretches out towards it, fingering the edge of the waistband.

Rather than speak, you give him a questioning glance, but what greets you makes you suck in a breath. Just like the first time you met, he’s radiant; godlike. His hair is a silken warm blonde, gentle waves that frame his delicately arched brows. And his eyes. When you meet his gaze, his irises glint and shift, a brilliant gold that swirls around dilated pupils. This is the first time you’ve seen him properly in the light.

He narrows them slightly in amusement, drinking in your reaction. With a barely-there background of the airplane cabin, general shapes and blurs, the man sitting beside you is in startling clarity. Everything seems to revolve around him, a fixation you can’t shake. “Please,” you mumble again unconsciously, hand slipping below the elastic of his underwear.

He’s hard as a rock, though his face shows no desperation, only mild amusement with the way you lick your lips. As you massage him indulgently, you can’t help but recall the sight of him in the shower. Would his cock be the same in this dream?

“Watch out,” he warns, before breaking your gaze to face the aisle. Belatedly, you hear a squeaky wheel, a trundle cart being pushed down towards you. As the figure of an air hostess slips into view, you attempt to quickly retract your hand, though it seems your brain and body aren’t on the same track anymore. Even as you mentally strain with the want to take your hand out of his pants, it refuses to cooperate, wrapping your fingers fully around his length, running your thumb over his head.

He chuckles lowly, head tipped back luxuriously on the head rest, devoid of any shame. The air hostess is talking to the two of you, but your cheeks burn and you can’t bear to look at her. The sandman calmly orders a hot tea, only pausing to groan in relief when your rogue hand slips him out of his pants and into the cool air of the cabin. He’s making conversation with her, discussing landing times and stopovers, and your eyes fill with embarrassed tears as you feel yourself bending down, dipping your head to take him in your mouth.

Unlike any men you’d been with before, he tastes slightly sweet, a flavour that satisfies your tastebuds. The moment your tongue dips out to swipe up the bead of precum that’s gathered, it’s like your humiliation melts away, and even though you feel yourself regaining control of your hand, you continue to pump the base of his cock, lapping up as much of the moreish taste of him as you can.

“Now that’s a good girl,” his honeyed voice soothes, a reassuring palm brushing your hair out of your face gently, “just give in to me.”

You moan around the head of his cock and suck him down deeper. As you lower your head more, it seems your perverted dream-logic has taken away your gag reflex, and soon you’re removing your hand, nose pressing against his hip bone. He lets out a low, purring groan, and you grip the flesh of his thigh through his pants in response. You can feel him in your throat as you begin to bob your head, but instead of feeling like you’re being suffocated, you just feel deliciously full. A wave of wet heat rushes between your legs as you picture how it would feel to be that full somewhere else.

“Yes,” he sighs, “god, it’s been so fucking long, don’t you dare stop.” You pull off him with a pop quickly to look up, expecting the air hostess to have moved on by now, your dream sequence having gone down a different path, but she stands there, perfectly put-together and professional as she stares down at you. Behind her, you notice with a jolt that everyone in their seats have turned to look at you; countless generic faces that blend into nothing the moment you look away.

“They’re all watching,” you comment with a raw throat, though arousal at the thought of it slides through you like a hot knife, feeling your pants cling to you, impossibly soaked.

His smile is radiant and the gold in his eyes darkens to burnished bronze. With a hand on the back of your neck, he guides you back down. “Then give them a show.” He moans low in his throat when you take him in your mouth again, tongueing at the veins that run along the underside. His fingers slip around the other side of your neck, pushing down on your voicebox. You can feel the way his constriction traps his cock in your throat. You can’t breathe, but it is no longer necessary, your heart thrumming gently in your chest even without oxygen to pump it.

He presses down more firmly, an iron grip around your throat that closes your throat around his length. “I wonder…” he muses. With a dark laugh that sounds almost inhuman, the man pulls slowly, lifting you off him until only the tip sits on the back of your palate, barely inside your throat. Though you don’t understand what’s going on, or how your mind has gotten so depraved to picture this, your clit throbs in your panties and you remain obediently in his grasp, waiting for his next move. “Mm, so you are going to be a good girl for me.” You feel pressure around your throat again, though this time he’s pushing you back down. With your throat cinched inside his grip, his cock pushes at the cartilage, completely blocking your airway. Your eyes water, but somehow you remain still, the only part of you moving being your head as he uses your throat as a cocksleeve, pushing you down until your lips touch the skin around the base of his cock.

He isn’t overly vocal, but his indulgent grunts and moans seem amplified in your ears. He moves faster once you continue to take it, fucking up into you every time he plunges you down. He reaches his end quickly this way, and when he flattens his other palm over your scalp and holds you there, a warm release sliding down your throat, sweet like condensed milk, so much that it bubbles up and pools in your cheeks, spilling down your chin.

When he finally releases you, you come up, sucking in a shuddering breath. The spectators are still there, though it looks like the scene around you is melting, falling in on itself. The lines between things become blurred, colours on their faces merging into dull greens and browns, like mixed paint. With a horrified gaze, you watch the morphing shapes begin to clap slowly, applauding your performance.

“I guess they liked it,” he plainly remarks. You turn to face him again, but his forehead is creased, eyes clenched shut in focus. “Fuck, that was so… I can’t hold it, shit-!”

The moment he swears, all detail begins to fall away faster than before, the vibrant gold of his hair and tanned skin blending away into a black nothingness with the rest of the plane, and you gasp, cracking your eyes open with the sound of applause still ringing in your ears, slowly sounding out into the buzzing phone on your bedside table. You fling your arm out from the warm covers, batting it around until you can turn off the alarm, and let out a groan.

Your eyes feel dry and crusty, like you’ve been sleeping for days, and when you rub at them the same gritty sensation from the night before stings the inner corners. You pull your fingers away and squint at what’s resting on the pads of your fingertips, unsurprised when you’re greeted with those fine grains of perfectly golden sand. Tearing up at the irritation, you gingerly remove as much as you can, swallowing the dryness in your throat. A small price to pay for decent rest, you promise yourself, though a slight curl of doubt rests stubbornly in the back of your mind.

That night, as you drift off blissfully early in the evening, you’re ready. Upon admitting to Yoongi that they were sex dreams - your friend was beyond jealous - he had managed to convince you that you were cursed by the mysterious stranger, that he was a witch or an incubus. His plan, which you are determined to execute tonight, involves confronting the man himself - “Don’t forget to ask him if he’ll give sex dreams upon request!” - and demanding that he releases you from the curse.

Though you were still a little sceptical that it was anything more than an overactive subconscious, you feel assured going to sleep that at least you know what to do should he return.

And return he does.

Not a bathroom this time, nor a plane. In fact, it’s an environment completely foreign to you, all the more hinting at the fact that this maybe isn’t just your mind conjuring strange scenarios. Like the other two times, you feel hazy and sluggish, and it takes you a while to distinguish the scene around you.

You become slowly aware of lush carpet fibres beneath your feet, the gentle hum of an air conditioning unit, almost totally drowned out by unintelligible murmuring, a television left on.

He is in the room with you, on a couch. Head tilted to the side, locks of thick gold rumpled and messy. Bare feet up on the coffee table and black sweatpants riding low, exposing a narrow strip of tanned flesh below his t-shirt, he looks unbelievably… domestic.

You swallow hard, steeling your nerve. “Hey.”

He remains unresponsive, eyes locked on the television. No, not completely unresponsive; the corner of his lip quirks just slightly. You tamp down a rising streak of irritation.

“Hey,” you repeat emphatically.

With a sigh, the young man reaches out for the remote that rests on the arm of the couch, muting the television. He flattens you with an unimpressed look. “Yes?”

“What are you doing in my dreams?” The question seems unbelievably childish once you say it, so you cross your arms petulantly. This does not help.

He quirks an eyebrow, grin widening to reveal his teeth. “Enjoying myself,” he answers simply.

You huff. “Your stupid tent thing at the fair, was it even real?”

“Did it feel real to you? Did I feel real?” When you simply press your lips closer together in annoyance, he drops the cockiness, leveling an impatient stare at you. “You gave me permission to be here, I hope you remember. Words have power, Y/n.”

You frown at him, unsettled. “I never told you my name.”

He barks out a condescending laugh. “And I never told you mine, but you know it, don’t you?”

You run your tongue over the edges of your teeth as you ponder this. His name comes to you like a fact once-forgotten. The moment you think it, you know wholeheartedly it’s right. “Taehyung. But- How do I know that?”

His eyebrow twitches down, like he’s tiring of your lack of understanding. “Because I’m in here, Y/n,” he hisses, pointing a finger to his temple. “I’m deep inside you, inside your subconscious. I can access every thought in that pretty little head of yours and you can’t do a single thing about it because you were the one that let me in.”

You balk at the fiery steel that has entered his expression, the molten gold in his iris darkening as a sneer stretches across his face. You swallow away your nerves, though your chest continues to flutter uncertainly. As if Taehyung is the focal point of this plane, which you suppose he is, colours and textures shift around him, blurring into shapeless swirls at the edges of your vision. Even as he sits in front of you in startling clarity, just as malevolent in sweatpants and a tee as he was standing over you in the dark of the tent, you find your eyes unable to move off of him. You clear your throat, tears pricking. “I didn’t know what I was agreeing to,” you defend weakly.

He laughs, one short bark that contains no real humor. “Yes, you did. I said ‘dream of me’ and you agreed. You just thought I was some fake scam artist, didn’t you?” With one swift movement, he stands up, and you falter back when you realise just how tall he is. He steps forward once, twice, three steps and his chest almost touches yours. While the swirling sands in his eyes normally jumped and flickered teasingly, now they churn in tight circles, belying his intent. You’re reminded of a shark circling in bloody water. “Well, Y/n,” Taehyung taunts, “do you believe me now?”

Though you tremble, you force yourself to push your chest forward and your chin up. “I believe you,” you allow, voice wavering only a little bit. “So, what are you?”

His lips tighten, eyes lifting to the ceiling in exasperation. You jump when you feel his hand brush your elbow, clasping your upper arm loosely. “Y/n, little Y/n,” he chastises, “stop asking questions that you already know the answer too. How terribly boring.”

You want to shake your arm out of his grip, but his touch is hot, like the heavy warmth of a fire, and you can’t help but want more of it. Judging by the way his fingertips tease at the sensitive skin of your shoulder, he knows it too. “Fine, you’re a sandman. What the fuck does that even mean?”

He sighs shortly, head tipping back down to catch your gaze. His arm drops, and you tremble at the cold air, feeling oddly put-out. “Sit down,” he commands simply. Without waiting for a response, he turns his back to you and flops his body onto the couch, kicking his feet back up onto the coffee table, eyes lazily following the characters on the muted television.

You bite your tongue, doing as he says. It’s strange; you’re barely aware of your own body in the dream, can barely feel the texture of the couch underneath you, yet every nerve in your body is hyper-fixated on the tingling remaining warmth from his hand on your shoulder. You feel yourself wanting to lean in to him in the hopes that he’ll put his hands on you again. You can’t help but wonder if it feels that electric if he touched you somewhere else.

Fuck. Snap out of it. “I’ve sat down now. Can you actually be serious and answer my questions?”

Like a switch is flipped, his grin drops and his eyebrows flatten. “Fine,” he allows in a chastising tone, “let’s be serious.” You watch in amazement as the scenery around you drops away. Like melting wax, the television, walls, coffee table, everything but the couch the two of you are on morph and fade away. “This is my terrain now,” he states calmly, “I choose what you see, what you experience, what you feel. So if I were you I wouldn’t be so rude to me.”

Your jaw moves for a few moments before you can voice anything. “Why are you doing this?”

His eyes flicker, though the mischievous glint is gone. “I’m a sandman,” he explains simply. “I only exist in this dream realm. I can only interact with things in the dream realm. Out there, in your world, I have no sensation, no feeling. But if I can get a naive little human like you to give me access into your mind, then your dreams are my playground. And I fully intend to play.”

With a dry mouth, you clear your throat. “Fine,” you say, “you can do whatever the fuck you want in my dreams but leave me out of it.”

The smirk returns to his face, lips pulling back to reveal teeth. He runs his tongue over them as he sits forward, placing a hand on your knee, fingers wrapping around. You try not to jerk at the sudden touch, the burst of heat. “No can do, sweet thing. You see, if I did something without you around it wouldn’t exactly be your dream, would it? And besides,” he breaks off, grip tightening around your leg as he leans in to press his cheek against yours, teasingly nipping at the skin of your earlobe before he murmurs, “where’s the fun in that?”

Your bed mocks you. This morning, wanting a clean slate, you had washed all the sheets and now it lies before you perfectly neat and pristine, just begging for you to hop in.

But you refuse. You won’t be falling asleep tonight. If Taehyung thinks he’s in control during your dreams, then fine. You just won’t dream.

“I thought you’d be making the most of your newfound ability to sleep,” Yoongi comments curiously, feet kicking at the edge of the mattress. You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the exhaustion that pulled at your eyelids without reinforcements, so you had called in your favorite insomniac to keep you company.

Swaying aimlessly back and forth on your desk chair, you shrug. “I haven’t hung out with you in ages, I felt like a good, old-fashioned sleepover.”

He narrows his eyes at you, though it’s not particularly intimidating. “I’ve never once slept over at your house, idiot. What’s the real reason?”

You avoid his gaze, studiously focusing on picking a movie on Netflix. “Fine, then. I wanted the goss on that fair boy. You got his number, right? But you never told me how it went.”

Mission successful. Yoongi lights up, suspicion forgotten. “Hoseok! His name is Hoseok, and he’s amazing. We actually… went out for coffee the other day.”

Your eyebrows lift, shutting down your laptop lid to fully give your attention to the boy across from you. “Like a date?” Yoongi grins and nods enthusiastically. “You casanova, you! What’s he like?”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker strangely in the dim evening glow that peeks through your curtains. “He’s great,” he gushes, “friendly, and bubbly, and has the most beautiful smile. But… actually, I guess you could say there’s something I need to tell you.”

You frown. “What? What’s up?”

He pouts, kicking his heels more insistently against the edge of the mattress. “The date was really nice, and Hoseok is really nice, but I couldn’t stop thinking that… that maybe I just liked him because he was like you.”

Your face freezes in an expression of pure confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Yoongi ducks his head. “I’ve been trying to deny it for years. I figured you saw me as a friend and nothing else, and I thought if maybe I focused more on guys instead of girls I could separate myself enough from the image of you, but clearly that isn’t going so well for me.” He laughs, bitterly, and you’re overcome with the urge to rush forward and hug him. Nevertheless, you stay rooted in your spot.

“Yoongi, what are you saying?”

He shrugs, body hunching over like it always does when he’s shy. “Hoseok is nice, but he’s not you. And I think it’s time that stop lying to myself.” He looks up, then, eyes soft. “I think I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

Your lips are parted, jaw slightly slack in shock. “...okay,” you state eventually. Well, this is one way to stay awake. “So, uh, I don’t- What do we do now?”

Scratching behind his ear nervously, Yoongi bites his lip. “Maybe I… Can I kiss you?” When you don’t respond, he shuffles forward a little on the bed so that his feet rest on the ground. “Just once, to see if you feel anything. And if you don’t, we never have to bring it up again.”

You sigh out a rushing breath. “Okay. Yeah, okay.” Fighting the erratic pounding of your heart, you stand up on shaky legs and sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder and nose to nose.

Now that you’re right in front of him, something foreign rises up in your chest. It feels like he’s the only person in the world, like you can’t look away from the tender look in his eyes. You can practically feel the warmth of his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt. He leans forward, and you reflexively suck in a shallow breath, eyelids fluttering shut.

His lips are featherlight when they first brush against yours. You feel a palm come up to cup your cheek, and his fingers tentatively fiddle with your hair. Like you’re magnetised, you lean in, and that small sign of reciprocation is enough for him.

Yoongi deepens the kiss, mouth slanting to get a better angle as he urgently moves his lips against you, tongue dipping out to swipe at the seam of your lips, encouraging you to open up to him. You gasp when his teeth nip gently, tugging the sensitive skin before letting it go with a kitten lick to soothe the bite marks. You’ve never felt this alive before, and it’s a wonder to you that until now you had never looked at Yoongi this way. Now it almost feels like he’s pure, euphoric oxygen and you’ll die if you break away for a second.

His hand has dipped into your hair, gently pressing the back of your head to hold you against him, and his other arm insistently grips your hip, encouraging you to get even closer. A searing bolt of need rips through you, and you swing a leg up, straddling him. He’s hard beneath you, and the feeling of him makes you groan, gingerly grinding your hips.

His tongue is in your mouth now, flicking against yours and sucking it back into his mouth like he wants to envelop you in his embrace. His fingers tighten in your hair, gripping a handful. You whimper, hips still working against him.

“Yoongi,” you make out in a hushed tone, “that hurts.” You sigh in relief when the sharp tugging on your scalp relaxes, his palm soothing the sting. Relaxing against him, you moan into his mouth when you feel him slip his hand under your shirt and palm at your breast, seeking out an already-stiff nipple, no bra to obstruct him. He rubs it, rolling the peak between two fingers, and you feel wet heat gathering between your legs.

Out of nowhere, he roughly pinches and twists your nipple and your legs jerk in response to the pain, your instincts wanting you to back away from the harsh sensation, but before you can sit up off him he’s yanking on your hair again, twisting your neck back enough that you can feel the muscles twinge and your scalp burn. Your eyes fly open in shock, only for you to freeze.

Taehyung sits beneath you, dressed in the same shirt and basketball shorts that Yoongi was in, though his much broader chest makes the baggy fabric look fitted. He stares up at you with spit-slicked lips and blown pupils, almost completely enveloping the gold of his irises. With a shit-eating grin, he releases your nipple and pats it, chuckling under his breath when you twitch.

“Wha- What did you do with Yoongi?” you demand, as forcefully as you can while your legs are still around him.

He drops his gaze, sliding his hand over to your other breast, the fabric moving over his hand your only warning before he begins to flick your other nipple, every few seconds as you jump and try and twist away. Though he only has one hand in your hair, you feel completely anchored in place, like your arms and legs are too heavy to move even if you tried. “Yoongi is at home, my little human. Haven’t you worked it out yet?”

“You pretended to be him,” you guess, “he probably never came over, then.” He quirks his eyebrows once in affirmation, still teasing roughly at your chest, dragging a fingernail over and over the abused nerves of your nipple, the other one still aching. “But you said you couldn’t feel anything in my world. So what, you’re just doing this to fuck with me?”

A bewildered grin lights up his face. “My god, you’re dense,” he remarks in wonder. “Let me spell it out for you. Yoongi never came over because you never texted him earlier tonight. And you never texted him because you’ve been asleep since you got up onto your bed to put on the washed pillowcases. This is a dream, sweet thing. You’re in my world.”

“But-” You splutter for a few moments, glancing around at your room. Everything seems in perfect order. “This isn’t like the other ones, I… The dreams you create are always messy at the edges like an unfinished painting, but I can see everything fine now. This exactly what my room is like.”

“Convenient, then,” Taehyung teases, “that I can make dreams as realistic or rudimentary as I want.” The levity vanishes from his face, leaving behind a dark grin. “You’re out of your depth, Y/n. Stop assuming things just because you don’t know any better.”

His grip on your hair loosens as you do, realising shaking out of his hold is futile in a plane he completely controls. “Then how am I supposed to tell if something’s a dream or not?”

He leaves your nipple alone, hand dipping to fiddle with a pant hem of your pyjama shorts, calloused fingertips running lightly along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His smile is brilliant, wider than you’d ever seen on him before. “That’s the beauty of it, little human. You can’t.”

You shiver as his hand disappears below the fabric of your shorts, rising up to brush against the front of your panties, thumbing at your clit through the cotton. You feel the tension leave your body, and though a part of you is terrified by this knowledge, a different side takes over. The side that’s indulging in the warm pleasure unfurling in your stomach as his uncharacteristically gentle touch stimulates you. The side that says, you already know you’re dreaming now. Fuck it.

Taehyung watches in bemusement as you relax above him giving in. Only once you sigh out in pleasure, hand resting on his shoulder for stability, does he remove his thumb from you just enough to grip onto the elastic waistband. He tugs, and you feel the strangest sensation of the fabric dissolving, being pulled off you from the side even though you never hear or feel a tear. By the time his hand emerges from your pant leg, the fabric is whole again, and he bunches it up in his hand, chucking it away from you. With your panties gone, the sewn hem in the crotch of your pyjama shorts drags against your clit, and you heave a shuddering breath, rocking your hips to chase the friction.

“Do you want a hint?”

You blink, staring down at Taehyung in confusion. The golden silk of his hair hangs low over his forehead, but you can’t mistake the glitter of his piercing gaze on you. “What?”

His hand leaves your hair, sliding down your back until it rests on your ass, gripping the flesh and pushing you down onto his crotch. “A hint,” he repeats, “for knowing if this is a dream.”

You stare down at him, eyes lidded. “What?” As you speak, you feel something begin to move beneath you. You frown, looking down, and suck in a horrified breath when you lean back and see his crotch. The tented erection from before is...shifting beneath the fabric of his shorts, creating a rippling effect. You watch it entranced, as one bump slides upwards towards the waistband, prodding at it, before it manages to slip underneath, peeking out to show something that glitters in the dim lighting…

“The real world doesn’t have this,” he reveals, leaning back slightly as a rounded, blunt end of a golden appendage draws out of his shorts, rising in the air between the two of you. It’s smooth, fleshy yet entirely inhuman. He grips your ass tighter and pulls you forward, the tentacle feeling surprisingly cool as it lays down, curling around your thigh. It clashes with the heat from his hands on you, and you feel yourself sighing out, basking in the contrasting sensations.

“Is that...your real form?” you ask tentatively, curiously reaching down to touch it. It’s firm yet moving, much like muscle, and when you run a finger down the tapering length of it, it flicks in the air, seeking more of your touch.

“I suppose,” Taehyung allows, “though when I can become anything I like, a real form doesn’t matter much.” He stares intensely at the tip of the appendage as it winds around, sliding underneath the fabric of your shorts just as his hand did earlier, though this time with your panties gone there’s nothing between him and your core, and you let out a surprised moan when you feel it begin to massage your clit, pressing its way lower to try and get between you and his crotch, seeking your entrance. Your mouth falls open, too shocked to react to anything except the pleasure, and the sandman hums in response. “You see? These things don’t exist in your world. Your world is dull, basic, human. In here, anything is possible. This doesn’t have to be a fight, Y/n. Give in to me.”

You sigh out, your stomach thick with pleasure, and you nod slowly, lifting your hips to leave some room for the golden tentacle, which doesn’t hesitate before pressing deep inside you, more and more of the tentacle slipping out of his trousers and up into your cunt until you feel a pressure deep inside, the tip poking at your cervix.

Your legs are jelly and your fingers are iron tight on his shoulders as you moan, the sound broken up by choked gasps. “So...deep,” you pant out, mind unable to string together anything more than that, but Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, as his brows are knitted together in pleasure too, huffing out groaned breaths in a beautiful baritone.

“God, it’s been so fucking long, you have no idea,” he curses deep in his throat. He closes his eyes in concentration, and you feel the thick muscle shift inside you, recending from your wet heat like waves in low tide, before slamming back up into you, striking your g-spot with a change in angle. You keen, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder, wishing you were out of the restricting fabric of your shirt and shorts already, wishing you could run your hands over his bare chest and shoulders, hot like a furnace even as his golden member cools you from the inside.

It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced. The cock inside you moves and writhes like it has a mind of its own, but it’s addictive; almost like the deft flicks of a tongue, the tentacle navigates you from the inside out, stimulating parts of you you didn’t even know could feel pleasure. You find yourself mindlessly grinding into it. Since it gets thicker the closer to the base it gets - though you still haven’t seen where that might be with how long it is - you rock yourself against it, your clit receiving delicious stimulation that has you almost drooling.

Taehyung’s tanned skin is glistening with perspiration and the glow of his irises is so dark it’s almost amber below his lids. With his hands gripping your ass and hips tightly, he lifts you up onto your knees again so that he can begin to rut his hips up into you, the tentacle splitting you open with every thrust. You tremble and buckle but you’re somehow kept aloft, top half leaning heavily on his chest as the stretch and the deep warmth of pleasure bring you closer to the edge.

On this angle, your clit no longer grinds against the gleaming gold of his slick-covered cock, but Taehyung’s thumb blissfully finds it and you cry out in relief as he quickly rubs it, speeding up your high. “‘m close,” you moan out deliriously, feeling desperation at your impending orgasm shorten your breath.

“Thank god,” the sandman breathes, his face increasing as he grunts with exertion, “I need to fill this perfect pussy of yours up already.”

Your mouth drops open as the constant stimulation paired with his words pitch you over the edge. Your orgasm takes you by storm, seizing up and shuddering violently on top of him. When you clench around him, Taehyung swears throatily and lowers you down again, both hands firmly planted on your ass as he grinds deeply into your core, reaching his own end.

You’re slowly on the come-down of your powerful orgasm as he begins to spill into you, and you hiss at the sudden warmth filling you up. Streaks and streaks are milked from him, and when you finally get the energy to sit up a little and look down, your eyes widen.

Your stomach is a little rounder than normal, a bulge just below your belly button that you can see as your shirt’s ridden up. And below that, your pyjama shorts, absolutely soaked with cum. Your hands grip his shoulders as you feel him continuing to move inside you as the fabric turns dark with moisture, until you see it flood past, wetting your thighs with deep bronzed gold, rich and gleaming. When he finally twitches and goes still, the thick substance has begun to slide down your knees and stain the bed, an exorbitant amount of it that spills more and more every time you shift.

In wonder, you lower a hand and tentatively swipe your fingers through it, marveling at the way it reflects the light and glosses thickly, dripping down to your wrist. Unable to resist the curiosity, you wrap your lips around the tip of your pointer finger and suck, letting the taste of him fill your mouth. Immediately, you hum as the rich taste of dark chocolate fills your mouth, at odds wth the metallic colour. You raise your gaze to Taehyung, who’s propped back on his elbows, staring up at you with his cock still buried deeply inside. His eyes are dark, pupils blown even wider than before as you systematically lick off each finger, being sure to flick your tongue between them before catching the drip that runs halfway down your forearm, indulging in the deep flavor.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Taehyung swears, groaning when you lean forward to press your mouth to his, sharing his taste between your lips.

You let your tongues lazily dance around each other for a few languid moments before he curses and breaks off.

“I can’t hold it,” he admits, and you look around to see the walls and furniture in your room crystallising and morphing together, losing detail until the colour begins to melt away, the black void slowly creeping inwards. “I don’t want this to end already, fuck.”

You place one last kiss upon his swollen lips. “Don’t worry,” you remark with a playful grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

7K notes · View notes

nuttytani · 4 years ago

Text

Just like a movie

fandom: ikevamp

pairing: vlad x gn!reader

words: 2000+

warnings: mentions of food and that's pretty much it

a/n- this was my secret santa gift for my dear friend: @jiyuu-chan ! + if you enjoyed it; feedback is highly appreciated!

People say that you are meant to meet a special someone in your life. Someone who would change everything, who would complete you like a piece of a puzzle- someone you are destined to be with from the moment you are born, a string of fate tying you closer.

Soulmates have a special bond with each other; a red string that is attached to their pinky- which can only be seen by them. Such is drilled into every child’s brain from a young age.

When you were younger, your father would always tell you stories of how he had met his soulmate, his wife...your mother. It was otherworldly he said, like nothing else- an indescribable moment, and he wanted you to just know when you had met yours.

“One day, you’ll also meet your one and only, sweetheart!”

“Really? But…. how will I know?”

“Really! It’s simple. You’ll see a red-,” your dad said- looking a little too excited.

“DARLING- STOP! DIDN’T WE DISCUSS THIS!?? Don’t annoy the poor child…,” your mother screeched from the kitchen as she stormed to your place- giving her husband a sharp look before turning to look at you, “sweety- you’ll know when that day comes, alright? Why don’t you go play, hmm?”

You only nodded meekly, and rushed upstairs- glad to have your dad stop talking. Your parents’ banter was now muffled, but your mind was clouded with thoughts of what your father was about to say. Perhaps your mother was right...it’s better not to know to keep the moment special.

As you grew up, from kindergarten, primary school to highschool and finally college; you stood by and watched most of your friends find their other half- until you were the only one left. You’d always feel a dull pang in your heart...what if you were destined to be alone for life? When were you going to meet your soulmate? Will people keep on taunting you? These thoughts would lurk in your head, until you couldn’t think anymore. But now you were older and more carefree than before, such thoughts didn’t bother you any longer- at least not completely.

Every once in a while, your family and friends would dreamily tell you about their experience, while you’d just listen and nod. An exhausting cycle, where all your concerns would come rushing back to you. Then, of course, they’d never forget to ask about your nonexistent love life... It wasn’t fun to watch them shoot you a sympathetic smile and say “don’t worry, your time will come soon!”

Truly, having a soulmate or not didn’t matter to you, at least that’s what you think. It wasn’t uncommon for few people to be ‘alone’ although that was quite rare and an unfortunate occurrence. Why was it so hard for people to leave you alone? Real life isn't a romantic movie, like everyone would depict it as.

“There we go! I think that’s it now,” the strawberry brunette sighed as he placed the vase of wildflowers on the coffee table.

“Finally! I’m so tired,” you groaned, slipping to the floor as your back pushed against the couch.

Fumbling with the book in your hands, you motioned the man to sit beside you- not too long after, he too sat lamely next to you on the cold hardwood. Exactly five hours passed since you and your friend Charles began organizing your new house. The two of you were working nonstop- tirelessly to get the place looking more liveable and comfortable. It was a struggle, but the effort was worth it.

“You know...you owe me for this big time,” Charles announced cheekily.

“Spill it. What do you want Charlot?” Brows shot up your forehead, you knew that smile all too well.

“First of all...stop calling me ‘Charlot’ it’s weird! Only Faust calls me that. And to answer your question- I would like to eat your pancakes.” He flashed you a toothy grin.

“Sure whatever you say Charlot,” you snickered, “with coffee?”

“Uh-huh!”

With a roll of your eyes, you stood up and threw the book on the couch before heading to the kitchen. Straight away- you pulled out the mixing bowl and sieved the dry ingredients, while humming to a tune that was stuck in your head.

About a week had passed since you moved into your new house, it was a decent place and safe neighbourhood. But the best part about it was the fact that your house was a five minute walk from town. That meant no more lazy drives to the market, quite the bonus actually.

Remembering a task- you shouted to Charles, “Can you be a sweetheart and do me a favour?”

“Ask away child, your wish is my command,” he said with a flourish of his hands.

“Haha very funny- go get the mail”

“No no no- you’re forgetting something. What’s the magic word~” he sang in a high pitch.

“...Monsieur Charlie, can you please get the mail,” you huffed in annoyance.

Sounds of pancake sizzling and boiling of the kettle filled the kitchen, you were too busy flipping the pancake to notice Charles' presence back in the living room. His eyes were squinting hard at the brown box and some mail sitting snugly between his arms. He looked back and forth between the parcel and your back before he cleared his throat, capturing your attention.

“Hey uhh...is your home address 216b?”

“No. It’s 215b- why do you ask?”

“Are you sure? Because your mail says-”

Before the man could complete his sentence; you snatched the package from him- your eyes widening momentarily.

“I suppose the addresses got mixed up…” Charles muttered

“Yea looks like it…”

The two of you just stared at the package, not knowing what to do. Your first thought was to drop it off at the right address. The house was just in front of yours, it shouldn’t be a problem and maybe you could introduce yourself to your neighbour at the same time.

A smoky scent filled the living, interrupting your train of thoughts; your nose scrunching up in disgust- “What’s that smell?”

The two of you stared at each other quizzically before exclaiming at the same time “THE PANCAKES!!”

[Unfortunately, it took a great deal of time trying to scrape the burnt pancake off your pan and clean it. The unknown package was the last thing on your mind.]

“Thanks for the help Charles, I appreciate it.” You smiled at him.

“No problem, after all, I got to eat a good meal in turn,” he gave you a wink before bidding his byes.

The sky lost its pale blue colour and was now transformed into soft red and violet, all blending in to create a beautiful gradient with specks of white clouds adorning like freckles. A mop of unfamiliar silvery hair passed by your peripheral as you stared up the sky, taking a shy glance towards the man.

You stared at his back discreetly as he fumbled with the keys before opening the entrance to his house.

‘216b’ the golden letters glistened.

Huh. So that’s your neighbour! Maybe now’s the time you give him back the parcel, and that’s what you did.

You knocked thrice on the emerald green door, while balancing the huge brown box on your other arm- waiting patiently while you internally panicked. Your hands started to sweat and the box started to slip. Rushed footsteps echoed from the other side before halting suddenly, the green door opened with a start; giving you a little shock.

Once again, you were met with the silvery haired man; his garnet red eyes flickered to yours and at that moment- you felt as if everything froze around you. Your heart started to beat way too fast, and your breathing became shallow- it felt as if you were underwater. A tingling sensation ran up your left hand, your eyes flashed down to see whatever the problem was- only to be met with a scarlet thread wrapped around your pinky. You looked at the man in clear surprise and he too- looked very taken aback as he followed your eyes.

The silence stretched far too long for your liking, with a clear of your throat- you introduced yourself to the perplexed man and spoke

“...I’m the new neighbour”

“Bonjour, how can I help you?” He stared at you with wide eyes.

“So err- the package— I mean...I-I believe this is your mail?” You motioned to the box in your arms, “Looks like the mailman mixed up our home addresses.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Ahh! Why yes- actually I have yours as well- the mail I mean,” his eyes softened in understanding, “Please! Come inside.” He invited you in as he took the parcel from your hands.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” You shook your head meekly, still recovering from your speeding heartbeat.

“Not at all! Come in, please,” he insisted with shining eyes.

The house was similar to yours, the same white walls with wooden floors and fixtures- it had a relaxing ambience. You spotted several plants and flowers decorating the house, giving the place a much more peaceful vibe, you were too busy admiring the place to notice your neighbour returning.

He placed two plates of strawberries and tea on the coffee table which caught your attention.

“You have a lovely home uhh…”

“Vlad. I’m Vlad- my apologies, I completely forgot to introduce myself. How rude of me,” Vlad said with a slight smile.

When you turned up his doorsteps, you had no idea of what was to come- you definitely didn’t expect to finally meet your soulmate after all these years and in such a way. Now you understood what people meant by ‘feeling butterflies’

“No, it’s quite alright,” you chuckled while calming your jittery hands.

Vlad took a seat on the couch and pat the place next to him for you to sit. He elegantly picked the teacup and blew softly on it.

“So, how long have you been here?” he asked.

“Not too long actually, been just a week. I’ve finally finished organizing today,” you said while taking a bite into the deep red strawberry- the sweet juiciness making you sigh in delight.

“These strawberries are particularly my favourite- in fact, these were in the parcel you brought,” Vlad said with a deep laugh.

You gave an awkward ‘oh’ as you took a sip from your cup.

Not too long after, the awkwardness disappeared as you two got lost in conversation after conversation and more endless conversation, and a few giggles in between. It was quite easy to trust Vlad- he had a calming and serene aura and had you feeling comfortable in no time, perhaps too comfortable that you didn’t realize how late it was until you glanced at your wristwatch.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry- I lost track of time…”

Vlad gave a hum of acknowledgement as he eyed the wall clock, “It’s not that late.” He looked at you with twinkling eyes, ”Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’d like some company.”

“Hmm I don't know… I’ve overstayed my welcome,” You said with furrowed brows.

“Well I for sure know you haven’t —as I’ve said—I enjoyed your company.”

“Ahh fine! You’re good at tempting people you know?” With a grin, you folded your arms which earned a hearty chuckle from Vlad.

Dinner went smoothly as you two chattered on and on. The two of you stalled your return home but stayed in each other’s presence by washing dishes, eating dessert, extra dessert, and washing dishes yet again until there was nothing left to do.

Once again, you stood at Vlad’s doorstep with a meek smile.

“I had fun, thanks for having me”

“Me too- and it’s not often to find that your neighbour is your soulmate,” Vlad gave you an impish smile.

“Yea— it was, just like—”

“Just like a movie?”

“You stole my words, monsieur.”

“Perhaps this is our movie,” he said while tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

a/n: if you enjoyed reading this, please don't forget to leave a like and/or reblog. feed back is always appreciated. + join my taglist here

#tani writes!!#vlad x reader #ikevamp vlad #ikemen vampire vlad #ikevamp fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevamp vlad fanfic #vlad fanfic #reader insert #ikemen vampire vlad fanfiction #ikevamp oneshot #ikevamp #ikevam charles #ikevam faust #ikevamp charles #ikevamp faust

94 notes · View notes

wellsjahasghost · 5 years ago

Text

the monster in my head

A/N: VILLAIN BELLAMY, TASTY. sooo this bellarke ficlet was born because i thought, what if bellamy went all void stiles on us in the final season after being captured?? like obviously, not gonna happen but it’s such a juicy concept.

disclaimer: my knowledge of season 5-7 is so sparse it is laughable. i just wanted to write a mind-wiped!bellamy drabble basically, so please excuse my lack of detail in literally every other aspect of this. also all the typos, i wrote this really fast lol.

Clarke wakes up tied to a chair and her first thought is, I can’t believe he tricked me.

Except he’d gotten her guard down. One second she’d been walking away from the others, looking for something to eat on this godforsaken planet they’d landed on, and the next-- he’d appeared.

Right in front of her. The sight of him disarmed her so much, she’d only been halfway through saying his name when he hit her, and she’d been knocked out.

Now here he is again.

Bellamy, sitting in a chair opposite to her-- but he’s not the Bellamy she knows.

Except he is, she realizes with a start. He’s the Bellamy of before Praimfaya, his hair curly and unruly over his forehead, his jaw clean-shaven. His familiar, handsome face would settle her if it weren’t for the cold look in his eye.

“Bellamy?” she says slowly, drowsily. Am I talking to Bellamy?

“Clarke,” he says pleasantly, and she realizing he’s twiddling a pocket knife in his fingers. Even the way he says her name is cold, and she didn’t realize how warmly he used to say it until just right now.

The way he tilts his head to consider her is entirely foreign. Not in the way of people who were controlled by ALIE, where their movements were robotic, un-humanlike. No, this comes entirely from him, just... a different version of him. He’s wearing different clothes, too. All black. Black jacket too. His clothes and his skin and his hair are all clean, and pristine, like he’s been well cared for while he was gone.

Clarke, at this point, has grown used to the impossible happening. She just accepts in this moment that this Bellamy is not her Bellamy, and focuses on other things, like getting out of here and living another day to find out what happened to him.

They’re in a tiny, one-room cabin. Tools all over the place. Her hands are tied behind her. She stretches her wrists experimentally. No slack at all.

“What are you doing?” she asks Bellamy, who’s just been watching her take in her surroundings.

“We’ve been looking for you,” he says, still fiddling with his knife.

“Who’s been looking for me?” No answer. “Bellamy, what-- what’s going on? I haven’t seen you in--”

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking?” Bellamy says, bored. He tilts his head suddenly and stands. “Time to go. They’re waiting for us.”

“What do you mean it’s time to--” she cuts herself off as he strides towards her. She stays entirely still as he pulls the gun from his thigh holster and presses it to her temple.

“You try anything, and we see what your brain looks like decorating the wall.”

His voice is casual. Her heart beats faster.

“That’s a lie,” she guesses. “You’re bringing me to someone, and they want me alive. They wouldn’t be happy if you killed me.”

He laughs, lowly. "You willing to bet your life on that?”

He leans over her and cuts her free from the chair.

“Walk to the door,” he says against her ear, and she obediently stands.

“Do you remember me?” she asks, as he nudges her forward with the gun to her temple. He’s still got that knife in his other hand. It would be perfect to cut through the ropes around her wrists. “Do you know who I am?”

“I know who you are, Clarke. I just don’t care.” He presses the gun against her temple harder.

“Someone’s controlling you,” she guesses. From his silence, she guesses she’s right. “Are you still Bellamy?”

“That’s right.”

“Bellamy would never do this. He wouldn’t threaten to blow my brains out.”

“Well, I just did,” Bellamy replies. “So I guess you don’t know me very well.”

They keep walking forward. Towards the open door, revealing a grassy clearing beyond. “That’s okay,” Clarke replies. “I know it’s not you I’m talking to right now. I forgive you, Bellamy. If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you.”

He falters. That’s when Clarke makes her move.

She ducks from under his gun. He fires-- he fires!-- into the empty space where her head was. She tackles him around the middle, making them both tumble into the ground.

Bellamy’s caught off guard-- his movements slow, clumsy for a second, and she presses her advantage. She’s on top of him. He’s still got a tight grip on his knife, and she wraps her wrists around it, tearing through the rope binding her hands together with one strong pull.

He seems to wake up from whatever confusion he was in when she scrambles off him, his knife in her hand. She’s only made it two steps before he grabs her ankle and tries to yank her down again. Before she can fall, she grabs onto the chair he’d been sitting on for leverage. It crashes down with them.

Bellamy tries to pull her towards him. She grabs the chair leg and swings it over-- the chair is surprisingly light--bashing whatever part of his body she can reach behind him.

He grunts and releases her. She staggers up and sprints out of the cabin.

She’s in the middle of a clearing, in a forest she doesn’t recognize, with a sky up above that she doesn’t recognize either. She has no fucking clue where she is.

Right down to what planet she is on.

“Not so fast, Clarke...”

His voice is a sing-song from behind her. She whips her head around, and there he is, wiping blood from his face, but not looking angry at all. He’s walking towards her leisurely, and tucking the gun back into his thigh holster. He actually looks on the verge of a smile. Like he’s enjoying this.

“What now, princess? Where you gonna go?” he says softly, and the words are familiar and horrible in their new context. A chill races up her spine. She turns back around and sprints into the forest.

She’s running blindly for a few seconds, completely terrified out of her mind. She trips over a root, and then she’s tumbling down a steep bank, sand spraying around her as she falls. Pain explodes through her shoulder, and then the back of her head, and her back, and she just keeps falling and falling, and she doesn’t know which way is up or down, just that everything hurts.

She finally gets to the bottom of the hill, rolling into freezing cold water. She’s fallen into a stream. It takes her several moments to gather herself, and in that time she distantly hears footsteps coming down the bank. No. No.

Gasping, she rolls off her back, onto her hands and knees. Looks up only to see a hand coming down at her.

Bellamy yanks at her hair. Hard. She cries out, and he kneels beside her, prying the knife from her hands and tossing it far down the stream.

“You tried to shoot me in the head,” she gasps, unable to grasp that concept. It just makes no sense. The people he’s bringing her to must want her alive. “The people in control of you-- they wouldn’t have wanted me dead-- so why--”

He dunks her head underwater. She fights, struggles against him, throws her elbows, but he’s firm. He pulls her out after just a second. She’s gasping for air, wet hair stuck to her cheeks, the cold drenching her shirt and making her shiver. He leans in close, his nose brushing against the shell of her ear.

“The thing the people in control of me don’t know,” he says softly, “is that they don’t have very good control of me at all.”

She turns her head to stare at him, the dark eyes she can see her own terrified reflection in, his freckled cheekbones she knows so well, the curls hanging over his eyes. If it weren’t for the things he was doing, the things he was saying, she would say he looks in this moment exactly like the Bellamy who stood beside her and ordered her to write her name down on a list.

Except right now there is a monster lurking under his skin, and she’s starting to think the people who unleashed it didn’t know what they were doing.

“What did they do to you, Bellamy?” she asks, her voice tender, and his grip on her hair loosens slightly. “What did they do to make you like this?”

But then he gets a better grip, and dunks her back in the water again.

He keeps her there for so long her lungs scream for air. She makes herself go limp, but right when she does, he pulls her out again, and easily blocks her attempts to hit him. Backhands her instead, stunning her with pain.

He knows her game. He knows her too damn well for playing dead to work.

Clarke gulps breath into her lungs. She can’t understand what happened to him to make him like this. She only knows it must have been horrible, worse than Mount Weather, worse than anything she could imagine. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them from hurting you,” she says, again as soft as butter, and his eyes narrow. He dunks her back in.

When he pulls her back out, she manages to gasp, “I will kill the people who did this to you,” and he dunks her back in again. This time he holds her under for so long she actually blacks out for a second.

She comes to a moment later, leaning against his shoulder. He’s looking down at her with a storm in his eyes. She gazes up at him. He seems to be waiting for her to say something.

She says, “I’m going to do everything I can to bring you back--”

“Stop,” he says, and his voice sounds pained. “Just shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

He lets go of her, and his hands sink into his own hair, his expression hard and enraged and emotions flickering over his face a mile a minute. Clarke manages to clamber back on her hands and knees, shakily. She reaches to touch him.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, shoving her away, and she lets him, but then she puts her hands back on his face, gently. She traces her fingers over his jaw, brushes her thumb against the corner of his lip.

She’s sure she doesn’t imagine when he leans into it.

Suddenly Bellamy laughs, and the sound is bitter and disbelieving.

“I am trying to kill you,” he informs her. His voice is hoarse, as if he’s the one who’s been held underwater.

She smiles, gently again. “I know.”

Because she gets it, suddenly. His motivation to end her life is not because he actually wants her dead. The monster inside him is trying to kill whatever’s left of Bellamy, by killing her.

But he still can’t do it, and that’s how she knows there’s hope. That’s how she knows Bellamy is somewhere in there, fighting, maybe even at this very moment.

Bellamy reaches for her throat then, as if he might strangle her, but then it comes up and he brushes her wet hair out of her eyes, tucks the strand behind her ear. Like he can’t help himself. Then his hand tightens on the back of her neck again. His eyes harden, expression becoming blank. The monster has taken over completely again.

She leans in and kisses him.

He freezes. Her mouth is numb from the freezing water, but his is warm, and soft, and for half a second, he kisses her back.

She doesn’t know if she’s kissing the monster, or Bellamy, or the monstrous part of Bellamy. She doesn’t give herself time to find out.

She reaches behind her for the biggest rock she can get her hands on in the stream, then swings it at his temple.

The thunking sound is horrible. He topples over on his side. The splash his body makes as he falls over in the stream is small, nearly inaudible over the loud rush of water.

She staggers to her feet, gets her hands under his arms and drags him out of the water. She deposits him in the mud and stares down at him. His head lolls to the side. His eyes are closed, his expression open and innocent. He might be sleeping, if it weren’t for the gash on his head, half-obscured by dark curls, where she hit him with the rock. He’s bleeding. She’ll have to clean it.

She runs her hand over her mouth, still breathing raggedly.

Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy.

She hefts him up from under his arms again and starts to drag him back up the bank, her heels slipping in the wet ground. But she’s determined. They’re not far from that cabin. She’ll tie him up in the same chair he had her in.

And then? She has no clue. There’s only one thing she knows.

She pauses to catch her breath, and leans in close to his ear to make a vow to him, a vow she has always made to him ever since they landed on Earth.

“I am not giving up on you.”

#mine #bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 #my bellarke fic #drabble #reblogs/shares always v much appreciated!!#THIS IS SO MESSY IM SORRY FOR ALL THE TYPOS/HOW INCOHERENT THIS MAY BE #jade writes #greatest hits

587 notes · View notes

percyjacksonfan3 · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Olympian Thoughts

So because I have absolutely 0 self-control or restraint when it comes to this series and its characters, and for The Last Olympian in particular, I could not put TLO down. Because of this I figured I couldn’t do the usual photo reaction posts I have been so far, because the spam would just be ridiculous, so I am stealing the idea from @yourstrulytaaay to do a masterpost instead. (Adding a Read More cause this got ridiculously long)

Fun fact, TLO came out right after i finished reading the series for the first time so it's the first PJO book i bought and my only hard cover one for the og series. I checked the year and turns out it was published 2009, which means i was actually 9 when i read the series for the first time. I realize this is not really a fun fact but i thought i was older when I first read the series so it's blowing my mind a little ‘cause now I’m 21 and everything hits different and i still have so much love for this series and the characters Okay onto book thoughts: - i was right that this book is gonna destroy me, the first line alone made me so excited and nostalgic it's ridiculous - I love Rachel and Percy sm tbh. Her being a bit of peace and normalcy in his life without always reminding Percy of who and what he is is so good for him. Just a little escape

- of course by the end of the book that's not the case any more but by the end he's lived his prophecy so he doesn't need it as badly, plus he and Annabeth are solid again - Percy saying Annabeth has been hard to be around lately... Ouch my heart. Luke really is the last thing that keeps them from being together and Percy is so jealous and Annabeth so torn and in pain, i feel so bad for them both

- Beckendorf 🥺🥺 - the telkhine with the Lil Demon lunchbox!! I forgot about him. Percy: 'i left him alive, partly because his lunchbox was cool' is one of my absolute favourite lines tbh - Paul taking Percy crabbing and being imperative in helping Percy kill the giant crab 💖 Paul Blofis is important and deserves the world, okay? - aw Percy, you can't save every demigod bb

- 'i had to fight him eventually. Why not now?... What difference would a week make?' Oh Percy you have no idea - real talk tho, the fact Kronos possessed Luke's body would also mess me tf up. Percy keeps forgetting it's not Luke anymore and yeah, that would be so so hard and confusing af, like what another smart little mind game for Kronos to pull on top of everything else - the fact Percy fights Kronos before getting the Achilles Curse and actually doesn't die within seconds is... Astounding. He kicks him in the chest! And yeah Kronos is weaker and still adjusting to Luke's body, but Percy is having trouble fighting Luke cause they used to be friends - Percy breaks Kronos' time magic!! Like?! Boy is POWERFUL.

- OUCH - honestly Luke, Thalia and Annabeth's family breaking the way it did... Don't talk to me. Poor Annabeth, Luke betrayed them, Thalia joined the Hunters because of Luke's betrayal so she's pretty much AWOL all the time and then Luke dies. Like Rick wtf, my heart can't take it? -Percy and Tyson having each others backs when talking to Poseidon in the underwater palace is the brother-brother relationship we love to see - Percy trying to stick a sand dollar in the vending machines at school 🤦🏻‍♀🤦🏻‍♀ - the whole underwater interaction at Poseidon's palace? Perfection. Awkward family drama and all - Connor falling out of the tree when he sees Percy because he's so excited 😂😂

- 😭💖

- k, ik Clarisse isn't perfect but tbh if i was a child of Ares whose father was disrespected and hated by my fellow campers (ares deserves it but still) and that disrespect trickled down to how the other campers treated ME (which if Percy is reliable here, it obviously does) then i would also be irritated at being used for muscle and nothing else? And just expected to fight with the people who act as if they'd rather not have Ares kids around the rest of the time. Like Clarisse isn't totally wrong - Percy reading the prophecy, seeing he's meant to die and just being like 'i do not see it' and refusing to outright think about it makes me so sad for him - (but it taints every action after and he's super reckless afterwards bc of it- including finally breaking and accepting the Achilles Curse) - (also him taking this as the last straw and finally beginning to show Annabeth how he really feels, cause fuck it, he's dying anyway) - Give me more info about Rachel's backstory and family Rick!! - how did i forget Percy willingly eats chocolates that taste like cardboard because 'i didnt have anything against cardboard' like sir? Ik Silena didn't want them but still? - 'she'd always been cute, but she was starting to be seriously beautiful' STOP, MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT - Percy staring at Annabeth and forgetting what they're talking about cause hes so distracted 👌🏻

- hmm yeah... For some strange reason.... - i forgot how Percy totally bombs this convo bw them and now want to cry 😭 Annabeth is trying to talk about what's important and Percy, you sweet oblivious man, you're shooting her down without even realizing - love that they're both on the same wavelength tho. Percy two lines before, hmm it's cool to date ppl from other cabins, wonder why im thinking that around Annabeth, my best friend in the world, and then Annabeth a beat later, hmm, let me bring up Silena and Beckendorf and how it's important to be with the people you love when you have the chance, no way Percy will miss this huge hint right? - they're the best - k i honestly forgot Percy full on physically intimidates Leneus like that - luke telling his mom if he ran away the monsters wouldnt get her..i can just imagine luke crying when he says good bye before running away because he thinks it's his fault his mom is like that and he cant take care of and protect her anymore because it's too hard - uh oh now i have angsty pre-lightning thief luke fic inspo... Him, Thalia and Annabeth on the run... The ANGST - Rick holds absolutely nothing back in this book and i am in pain - HESTIA!! 💖💖🥰 - actual loml - i love that Rick titled this book after her and that he wrote such a great series about the importance of family (biological, found or otherwise) and home, and that he said actually Hestia is the most important bc shes the most humble and keeps the peace and knows when to fight and when to yield and you protect what you love, which is your home - i just... Adore Hestia - Grover! Missed you babes - Hades is so so horrible to Nico, always comparing him to Bianca :/ - but i do love Hades, Persephone and Demeter together they make me laugh - oh god the River Styx - Achilles 🥺 - Annabeth being Percy's lifeline is, and continues to be, A Lot™ - 'my name was Percy Jackson. I reached up and took Annabeth's hand.' LOL Why am i crying? - Like the fact there is no Percy without Annabeth, and that remembering her literally reminded him of who he is in his very soul... It's fine im fine - i won't even get into the parallels of her being his lifeline now and then later when Hera takes his memories but leaves the memory of Annabeth for Percy to fight to get back to (anyone who wants to yell about it with me... Feel free to message) - badass Percy is my fav Percy tbh - him defeating Hades?? Like? Hades is arguably the most powerful god, okay - i feel bad for Nico but if i was Percy I'd do the exact same, Nico, sorry man but this is a high stakes time crunch deal and Nico is literally the only hope of persuading Hades and distracted by his own internal stuff - flashbacks to Luke, Thalia and Annabeth hurt, ow - George and Martha are the best - damn i forgot Hermes full on nearly kills Percy here, yikes - Luke stop cockblocking Percabeth challenge

- i love!! Percy's love for New York!! So much!! - Percy leaving to live in New Rome in HoO is a lie and this is all the proof i need for why - the fact the entire last half of the book is the battle and aftermath... Such great buildup and pacing. All the tricks and twists and battles in this War of Manhattan? I would not take out a thing, Rick, you legend - of course then the final battle in hoo with the gods is what? Two pages? Ugh, don’t talk to me about my hatred for BoO and HoO - 'no detours you two' is still the cutest thing!!! - THE HUNTERS!! Thalia i missed you - good job Percy, you finally spent your sand dollar - Minotaur!! - 'dont i get a kiss for luck? Its kind of a tradition right?' Percy finds out he's gonna die and is out of fucks to give and honestly I support him - also Michael just standing beside these two while they're flirting like umm 👀 👀 while a monster army marches towards them, nbd - Annabeth taking Ethan's knife meant for Percy!!! Cause she just knows his weak spot without him even telling her! They literally invented love - Feral Percy is so scary omg, i love how well Rick incorporates the Achilles Curse in this novel, with the whole heightened weaknesses and stuff ans the parallels to Achilles arrogance being what killed him and Percy's loyalty, fierceness and protective instinct being his own heightened weakness - the fact that Percy is the one who inadvertantly kills Michael Yew tho, I'll never recover from that - the fact Hades offers Maria di Angelo a golden palace by the Styx like how Poseidon offers Sally a palace under the sea tho. Let's talk about that parallel - the entire talk with Prometheus is so so good - not me picturing young Luke hiding in the closet to get away from his mom when she has an 'episode' -i love callbacks in stories and all of the callbacks to the rest of the series in this book make me very happy (medusa, minotaur, the underworld, Rainbow!! My baby!!, Daedalus and more) - Percy summoning a wholeass hurricane against Hyperion - the Party Ponies! They're so chaotic, i love it - Dionysus! 😁 I can't help it, i love him - Percy absolutely losing it when he sees Sally and Paul asleep in the car 🥺 - Rachel telling Percy he's not the hero screws with him so much :( poor bb - although i really really love how Rick wrote this, it's so refreshing to not have one chosen one save the world, but a combination of people - the drakon, Silena and Clarisse make me cry - the Patrochilles references, im not okay - Annabeth giving up on Luke after hearing what he did to Silena and Percy telling her that doesn't make him happy 😭 that whole interaction makes my heart ache - Percy giving Hestia Pandora's pithos 🥺 - and Hades, Nico and the others coming for a final attack is so badass, i love it - listen im glad the og trio were the ones to confront Luke on Olympus but the fact Thalia got so close and then pinned by a statue of HERA makes me so sad. Ik her and Luke were finished and she coped by cutting him off completely and giving up all hope but i would pay money to know what they would have said to each other to say goodbye - Ethan 🥺 - Poseidon joining the fight against Typhon is so cool, such a great scene - 'PEANUT BUTTER!' - Annabeth you brilliant badass you - RIP Luke, you werent great but you werent the worst either - the gods just rolling up seconds too late, wondering wtf happened in Olympus and who the dead body is - the chapter where the Olympians meet and give out rewards is one of my absolute favourites (again i am incensed we didn't get anything like this in HoO) - will Percy turning down immortality ever not make me scream in glee? No? Alright then - Annabeth being relieved like Percy was relieved at the end of Titan's Curse tho - oh Hermes :/ - its so hard reading all this and knowing what comes in HoO... Like it's such a cathartic, earned and mostly happy and peaceful ending and then HoO comes along and undermines it all - aww Rick let Paul see Olympus somehow pls, he deserves it, he killed a dracanae - (i would also love to see it) - Percy being more upset Rachel took his pegasus than her going to Camp and possibly dying, lol, priorities dude - i honestly think that Rick had other ideas for the second Great Prophecy and how things would go down in BoO, cause the prophecy like... Barely applies to BoO, Doors of Death are in book four, and explabations of it is all so unclear when Rick is usually pretty good with that stuff - PERCABETH - lol Percy complaining about privacy when he and Annabeth are caught kissing literally in the middle of the very open and public dining pavilion, okay - BEST UNDERWATER KISS OF ALL TIME - that's it and im a glass case of emotion - very happy to say that this series remains my favourite of all time 💖

If anyone ever wants to come gush about anything Riordanverse related feel free, because as you can see I have a lot of thoughts about it all

#lau rereads pjo #the last olympian is my favourite book for a REASON #honestly every line is killer #so much subtext to read into #the dialogue #the relationships are dialed up to 11 #every character is so on point #the battle strategies too? are just so interesting?#I just adore it #Tay don't read any of this yet cause it's all spoilers #alright I'm gonna go write fic to express these feelings now #tlo #the last olympian #pjo #pjato #percy jackson

22 notes · View notes