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jaythes1mp · 4 months ago

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Shallow

Yandere Batfam x Merfolk Reader ♧romantic♣︎

Aquaman, Aqualad, Mera, and any other underwater hero’s and creatures don’t exist in this.

||-→ I tried to make each pov a different style of writing ||

There was something so captivatingly beautiful about observing the humans from below the surface, as they went about their daily lives, traversing the Metro-Narrows Bridge. The elders had always warned you to keep your distance from the world above, but you couldn't resist sneaking glances at the peculiar, moving metal boxes zooming across the streets, or the striking figures donning vibrant spandex who soared through the skies at night.

The bridge, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, cast an ethereal light across the water of the river. This sight, enhanced by the night, would always catch your attention, especially when they appeared. Moving in and out of the shadows, darting around or simply standing on the railing, lost in their own worlds.

You had grown fond of observing them as they soared through the night sky, reminiscent of the graceful movements of swans. Their elegance was effortless, seemingly defying gravity as they traversed the air. It was in those moments, watching the sky people glide past, that you were struck by the rawness of their beauty.

You never dared to come too close to the surface during the day, the haunting tales from your pod serving as a constant reminder of the horrors that existed above the water. But the night was a different story; it’s when you were more willing to take risks. The darkness provided the perfect cover, shrouding you in obscurity as the humans slept.

Though you supposed that the real reason you continued to venture up to the surface was because it was the time that they emerged, gliding through the air and gracefully traversing the buildings. Their shadows, illuminated by the silvery light of the moon, seemed to dance in perfect harmony with the night. Always seeming to captivate your attention in a way that no underwater creatures could.

However, on this particular night, you noticed something out of the ordinary. One of the usually lively land creatures was sluggish and listless, moving with none of the fluid grace that you had come to admire. A deep crimson liquid seeped through the fabric of his suit, spattering across the spandex and staining it a dark, ominous hue.

You cautiously approached the surface, swimming closer than you had ever dared to before. Slowly, you emerged, peering just above the water's edge.

You couldn’t see the human clearly, obscured as he was by the sizable drop between the bridge and the water below, but the scent he carried was undeniable. There was something utterly alluring about his aroma. It was a stark contrast to the familiar scents of salt and oil you were used to underwater. You haven't come across anything even remotely similar to it before.

The land dweller was undeniably beautiful.

A loud crash shattered the silence, jolting your attention back to reality. Your gills flared out in alarm, and in your surprise, the soft bioluminescent glow of your tail dimmed down, a natural response to the potential threat.

You backed away, submerging yourself down into the safety that the depths of the water provided. Your gaze fixating on the figure in the distance, decorated in his familiarly vibrant red and yellow attire. This one hastily making his way to the blue-clad human's side, concern decorated across his face, his actions imbued with urgency. Mask torn from his face.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your back from the scene unfolding above, releasing a flurry of bubbles that rose to the surface. Your pods stern warnings echoing in your mind, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay in the world above.

You make it no more than fifteen feet before a thunderous splash shatters the silence, the seawaters ripples rolling across your skin and triggering an involuntary shiver, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your tail instinctively sprung into action, propelling you back with a rapid, powerful flick.

With a sudden movement, your arms encircled the man's sinking frame, securing a firm grip on his sides. Your eyes widening in shock at the contact, your webbed fingers digging into his flesh, anchoring him in place.

For a moment, you paused, studying him. Your eyes absorbing every little detail. From the man's soft, almost spongy flesh under your touch, how soft and almost squishy his land dwelling arms were, how they seemed to just give way to the touch of your webbed fingers. Then to the way the baby blue suit of his that clung to him, was torn and tattered, ripping away underwater. Your gaze lingering on the deep red liquid seeping out of his torso, staining his skin and leaving a trail of ominous scarlet. And then, your gaze travelled to the two bizarre, elongated limbs extending from his waist. A stark contrast to the streamlined grace of your own tail.

His lips parted, releasing a stream of bubbles, each one ascending to the surface before vanishing from sight. You watched as his body suddenly went limp in your arms, reminding you of the dire situation you had inadvertently involved yourself in. With a powerful flick of your tail, you swiftly propelled yourself to the surface, bringing him up so that he could breathe. Your gills flared out, working overtime to filter oxygen from the water while you waited, your hearts hammering in your chest.

When the human made no attempt to improve, limp and unresponsive, you couldn't suppress the deep hiss that escaped from the back of your throat. Your grip tightening around his frame, your tail coiled tighter around his legs, an attempt to stabilise and bring some form of response from him. Your eyes grew large in desperation as you shook him back and forth, each movement growing more frantic with the passing seconds.

You directed your attention to the deep red liquid that was oozing out of his abdomen, its thick, almost oily consistency spreading out in little waves around you in the water. Coming out in shallow pulses. You tilted your head slightly, noting that the fluid's flow didn't seem natural. It felt wrong, a gut feeling of sorts. You hastily reached for the pouch tethered to your hip, pulling out a woven bundle of seaweed and a salve prepared by the elders of your pod.

You delicately began to layer the salve over the gaping wound, taking care to press the woven seaweed into the lesion. The salve, a rich green and purple, had a cooling effect as it made contact with the human's skin. A crucial aspect due to its high iodine content, which helps to close the large gash. As the ointment came into contact with the blood, it began to congeal and bind the tissue together, halting the bleeding.

However, you were acutely aware of the human, who remained unresponsive. His chest, which should've been rising and falling with each inhale, lay still. A sudden panic clutched at your hearts, threatening to overwhelm you. You weren't sure what the proper human anatomy was, but it was abundantly clear that he needed to breathe.

You placed a webbed hand on his chest, the flesh there surprisingly firm. You pushed down, then up again, attempting to mimic the breathing motions you had seen him and others do. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pleaded for him to respond, a silent mantra running through your head. With urgency, you placed a firm grip on the back of his neck, tilting his head back, the gills on your neck flaring out to pull in as much oxygen as they could. Your tail coiling tightly around his waist to keep him afloat.

Despite the pressure you exerted, there was no response from him. His chest remained still, no signs of life. Your breath hitched at the sight, a sense of desperate desperation washing over you. You were frantically trying to keep his head tilted back while the water was washing over his face, the cool liquid creating small ripples that mirrored the urgency of the moment. His body remained motionless, unresponsive to your frantic attempts. You could feel the pressure building in your own chest, your gills working overtime to extract oxygen.

In a final, desperate attempt, you lean in closer, positioning yourself to allow your webbed fingers to forcibly pry open his parted lips. You took in a deep breath and expelled it through the opening, pushing every ounce of air you could manage into his unresponsive lungs.

You repeated the action multiple times, exerting every ounce of effort to force air into his trachea. Each breath, heavy and laboured. You finally pulled back, allowing yourself a moment of respite. Your breaths came out ragged and sharp, a stark contrast to the steady, undisturbed water around you.

As he remains unresponsive, his body frighteningly limp, your body goes slack, a wave of disappointment washing over you. Reluctantly, you release your grip on him and let him go, his body now floating eerily close to yours. You close your eyes tight, trying to swallow the lump in your throat that was rapidly forming.

You flinch at the sudden and unexpected contact, your eyes fluttering open. An alarmed hiss escaped once again through your lips, more out of surprise than anything else. Just as you were about to submerge yourself underwater, a firm hand grasped your shoulder, its grip strong and unwavering.

"Y-you're...alive.", you stuttered out, a mixture of disbelief and awe laced in your raspy voice. The hand on your shoulder felt firm and real, a stark contrast to the nightmarish scenario you had just been a part of.

“Nightwing?” Red Robin's voice cuts through the quiet night, bouncing off the empty alleyways. Frustrated, he takes off his comms, readjusting them to try again for the sixth time in the last ten minutes.

"Dick, come in," he practically growls out, tapping on his device with a little more force than necessary.

“Where the hell are you?” he mutters, staring up at the tall buildings. Dick’s always late, but this was getting ridiculous. With a sigh, he leans back against the wall, crossing his arms as he waits.

A low, familiar voice crackles on the other end of the comms. “Stalker.”

Tim rolls his eyes, recognising the voice immediately. It was too late in the night to put up with him. “Jason.” he sighs, “What do you want. Have you heard from Dick?”

“Not a word.” The response is curt, and the annoyance in Jason’s voice is obvious. He rarely joined in their patrols, preferring to stick to his own methods of dealing with things.

Tim lets out a frustrated huff, tapping his fingers impatiently against his arm. Of course Dick would pick now to go radio silent.

He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment to let out a frustrated groan. He was stressed enough as it is, none of this was helping.

“You’re patrolling the Narrows?” Jason’s voice breaks through Tim’s thoughts, pulling him back to reality. He looks around, taking in the surroundings with a frown. The Narrows was never a good place to be alone.

“Yeah.” he responds, not taking his eyes off of the shadows. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to know, Dick’s nowhere to be seen. In or out of uniform.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and Tim can practically hear the smirk in Jason’s voice.

“Need backup?” he offers, amusement clear in his tone. The elder boy mocking him.

Tim scowls, shaking his head even if he knew Jason couldn’t see him. “No.” he replies curtly. “I’m not a child, I can handle this myself.”

“Sure, kid.” Jason’s response is just as dismissive. “I’ll come check on you in a bit anyway. Make sure you haven’t gotten your ass kicked.”

Tim’s scowl deepens at Jason’s reply, not appreciating the offer of help — or the nickname. “I don’t need a babysitter.” he grumbles. “I’m going to find Dick, and I don’t need your help.”

There’s a pause, and Tim can practically hear the eye roll from Jason. “Whatever you say, Replacement. I’ll be there soon.”

“No—” Before Tim can protest, the comms go silent. Damn it, Jason.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, biting at the inside of his cheek. The last person he needed to see right now was Jason. The last time he’d come face to face with the man, things didn’t go so well.

Tim grits his teeth and pushes himself off of the wall. He had better things to do than get into a fight with his older brother. Like finding his other older brother.

With a huff, Tim starts walking, making his way through the narrow alleys of the Narrows. It’s quiet, eerily so, and his instincts are on high alert.

Everything feels off. The air is still, and he can’t shake the feeling of being watched. His breath stutters in his chest, but he pushes the feeling down. He had work to do.

“Dick?” he calls out, his headset’s blinking green light signalling the message going through. He glances around cautiously as he moves. “Nightwing, come in. Can you hear me?”

There’s no response, and Tim tries again. Nothing but static. His shoulders tense, the unease growing in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t like Dick. The man was always on top of communication.

Tim continues forward, his footsteps quick and light. He keeps his eyes scanning the shadows around him, but the silence is deafening. Where the hell is he?

A muffled crunch breaks the silence, and the boy freezes, his breath hitching. It was faint, coming from somewhere off the alley in front of him. His heart rate quickens, and he carefully shifts on his feet, trying to pinpoint the source.

There was something across the street. Someone.

Tim squints, his eyes trying to make out what it was. It was too dark to tell. Damn it, why can’t Dick be here to deal with this..

He’s too used to working in a team, having the security of someone else there to watch his back. The someone’s in question usually being Batman or Nightwing.

He steels himself, slipping into a fighting stance and taking slow steps forward. He can’t let his guard down, not now.

As he moves, the shape across the street shifts. It’s still far away, but from the size and height, he could tell it was definitely a figure.

His comms device beeps, startling the boy and nearly causing him to stumble. He quickly scrabbles to check it, hoping for some sort of answer or communication.

“Red.” Jason’s voice comes through, static breaking up some of the message. The device was clearly reaching a limit. “Can you hear me? Dick’s in trouble.” The voice, as crackling as it was over the broken comms, sounded dishevelled and panted. Jason rarely called for help.

With a final glance at the figure across the street, Tim’s eyes flicker back down to the comms in his hand. Jason found him.

“Where are you?” he asks, not wasting a second as he sets off at a sprint. He didn’t care what kind of trouble Nightwing had gotten into, he just needed to get there.

“Don’t worry about me. Get to Metro-Narrows Bridge.”

The urgency in Jason’s voice has Tim’s heartbeat racing. He doesn’t question it, just continues sprinting. He knew the bridge, and knew it was far.

“...” he grits his teeth. “I’m on my way.”

Tim hits the wall with a pained gasp, eyes squeezed shut as he doubles over coughing at the impact. His vision swims. Shit.

He lets out a sharp gasp, the breath knocked out of him as he’s smashed against the hard bricks. The pain doesn’t have time to register, as his mind is sent into a panicked frenzy.

He sucks in a low breath, trying to clear his head and figure out what the hell just happened. There’s a shuffle of feet, and the distinct sound of metal being unsheathed.

The attack was too precise, too sudden. He grunts, trying to push himself back away from the wall, but a large hand keeps him pinned.

His head finally stops swirling, and he can focus on the large figure in front of him. Not good.

He’s a towering wall of a man, arms bigger than Tim’s head. He’s muscular, clearly built like a brawler. The metal that had unsheathed was a knife, the sharp, gleaming blade being held firmly in the man’s large hand.

“No more running.” the man growls, his other hand still keeping Tim pinned against the wall.

Tim glared up at him.

He’s been in situations similar to this before. He’s fought and won against opponents bigger than him, more experienced than him. He needed to stay calm, and assess the situation.

With a pained grunt, he pushes against the man’s arm, struggling to break free. The man just leans closer, his breath hot in Tim’s face.

The smell of smoke and old alcohol fills Tim’s nose, making him want to retch as the man sneers at him. “Struggle all you want, kid.” he drawls. “You’re coming with me one way or another..” Tim clenches his jaw.

He analyses the situation quickly. His equipment was in his belt, but pinned tight against the wall left him with very little mobility. He had to find a way to get away swiftly, before the man could do him any serious harm.

Tim’s mind races, trying to work out a way to get himself out of this. He’s too close quarters to the man, and any attempt to get away would lead to him getting a knife in his gut.

The man’s grip tightens, making him gasp as the knife is held closer to his skin. His eyes darted around, searching for anything useful. He would have to time this right. “Stop squirmin.’” The man’s gruff voice rang out.

Tim ignores him, grunting as he struggles against the hand pinning him. There had to be something he could use to—

A gleam of something metal catches his eye, and he glances down, spotting a metal pipe sticking out of an open garbage bin. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough.

Tim takes in a shallow breath, his mind racing for a second. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, trying to keep the man talking and distracted.

“Don’t try any shit, sidekick.” He tightened his hold on the boy, using his other hand to get out a walkie-talkie from the pouch on his chest.

Sidekick? Tim’s teeth gritted, a spark of anger flaring up in the back of his mind. He wasn’t just a sidekick.

Tim’s eyes glance down again at the pipe, trying to calculate his next move. He watched as the man brought the walkie-talkie up to his mouth, his heart rate increasing as he prepared to act.

“I got a bird out here,” the man grunted into the device, keeping his eyes fixed on Tim. “Found him in the-“

He barely had time to react before Tim acted. With a sudden burst of strength, he jerks forward, wrenching himself free from the man’s grip. He immediately drops down, grabbing the metal pipe and brandishing it like a weapon. Flinging it into the man’s hand that held the radio. The impact caused him to drop it, as he let out a cry of pain, stumbling back.

Tim didn’t hesitate. He quickly used the momentary opening of shock and pain to his advantage, striking the man hard in the stomach with the pipe. The man grunted, his hand instinctively going to where he’d been hit.

He wasn’t about to give the thug any time to recover. He brought up a leg and kicked out fast, nailing him hard in the knee. The man yelled out again, staggering back.

He raged, stumbling forward and landing one hard punch against Tim’s face.

The younger boy’s head snapped to the side from the hit, the force of it knocking his mask askew, cracking and splitting as he reeled back. His vision swims from the impact, but he can taste the distinct taste of blood in his mouth.

He stumbled back, bringing a hand up to his face and cursing, blood seeping down his face.

His head hurt. A lot. That one hit had left him dizzy, and his cheek stung like hell.

The pain is enough to clear his mind though, and he refocuses on the man in front of him. His lip is split, and his cheek feels like it’s on fire. His mask hangs half off of his face.

Tim grits his teeth, glaring at the man with a new found fire in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let some random thug take him out.

The perpetrator lets out a huff, spitting out a glob of blood onto the floor next to him. An ugly sneer plastered his face, and he stepped forward, reaching down for the knife that had been discarded on the ground. “You little shit.” he spat. “I’ll make you pay for that.”

His eyes flickered down to the knife held flimsily in his hand. He needed to get out of this. The man was bigger and definitely stronger, but obviously nowhere near as experienced as Tim was. He’s surprised that the thug had even managed to get in a decent hit to his face.

His mind is too preoccupied, caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts, and he fails to notice the man’s approach until the moment he's already upon him. The thug's fury makes him careless and ill-prepared, the sound of his stumbling footsteps betraying his presence due to the injury on his knee.

Tim quickly raises his arm instinctively, attempting to shield himself as the man’s towering frame comes charging at him. He’s tackled to the ground in a single swift move, the impact crushing his ribs against the concrete floor.

His back hits the ground, the air getting knocked out of him for the second time that night. The man’s weight pinned him to the ground, the air leaving his lungs in a loud gasp as he struggled.

The man had the knife clutched in his hand, the gleam of the blade reflecting the lights of the city as it was raised up, aimed to strike.

Drake nearly sneered at the sight. He’s an amateur. Over confident in himself and relying solely on force.

Tim’s eyes darkened, his glare locked on the man above him. He was not going to be defeated by some two-bit mugger.

He kicked out at the man, aiming for his still injured knee. The man grunted as he took the kick, shifting off balance for just a second.

It was enough of an opening for Tim to react. He pushed up on the man, using the momentum to roll them both over, switching their positions and taking the top. He wasted no time in smashing the man’s head against the ground, knocking him out stone cold. Blood pooling down against the pavement.

He paused, breathing heavily as he stared down at the man. His lip stung as blood still trickled down his face, the adrenaline in his system beginning to wear off.

Tim sat there for a moment, letting out a hiss of pain as he lifted a hand and gently touched his split lip. He gingerly moved his fingers through his hair, grimacing as he felt the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his face.

Dick was still in trouble. That was the thought at the front of his mind, the reason he was out here and why he had to get to that bridge.

With a wince, Tim pushed himself up, staggering for a moment as a wave of nausea passed over him. He was pretty sure he’d developed a minor concussion from being thrown into the wall.

Everything ached, and his body was screaming at him to just stay down. He ignored it. Nightwing was his priority.

He swayed for a moment, his vision going white around the edges as his head spun, before he managed to stay standing and start moving again.

He didn’t think, he just ran.

He’s still panting as his feet hit the concrete, his body protesting the movement. The nausea from his concussion was becoming very real, and he had to stop to take a deep breath to steady himself.

Fuck, he was going to throw up, wasn’t he?

Tim bit his tongue and started running again, forcing himself to push on and ignore the pain. He had to keep moving.

The cold, night air hurt his lungs, but he didn’t stop. Not even as the pain from the beating began to make itself known with each hard footstep against the concrete. He had to get to the bridge.

He kept going at a brutal pace, ignoring how his vision swam and how every breath he took just made him feel like he needed to puke.

He’s not sure how long he had ran, his mind focused entirely on just moving. One foot in front of the other, he just kept going.

As he rounded the corner, he noticed the bridge in the distance. His eyes widening, watching Dick stagger back against the railings edge.

Tim stumbled for a moment, but pushed himself back up, keeping himself moving forward. He could barely see straight, but nothing else mattered. Nightwing’s tall and dark silhouette was leant against the night light of the bridge. Even from a distance, he could see the blood on Dicks skin, staining the side of his face, his suit’s front ripped open, a large gash in his abdomen pooling out onto the ground.

Tim’s speed quickens, every muscle in his body crying in protest but he continues on. All he could focus on was the sight of Nightwing. In the low light, he could see Dick’s shoulders moving with each heavy breath, looking seconds away from collapsing.

In a desperate attempt to save his mentor, Tim lunges forward and grabs onto Dick's arm. However, the fabric of the torn and damaged suit simply tears further under the force, causing Dick to slip free from Tim's grasp and fall into the dark, ominous water below.

"NO—!" The cry escapes Tim's mouth in a choked rush, the sound filled with anguish and fear. With a desperate burst of energy, he lunges forward, his hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to cling to Dick's suit, to anything that would keep him from falling.

But it was too late. He was too late.

His heart hammers frantically against his chest as he gazes down into the dark depths below, his eyes wide and searching desperately for even a glimpse of Dick in the river's deep murky water.

His breath hitches, a silent sob wracking his frame as he slumps over the edge of the bridge, his hands shaking as he brings them up to his face. His blood-slick fingers thread through his hair, his eyes wide as they stay fixed on the dark water where Dick had fallen.

The sound of a vehicle approaching in the distance catches his ears, but he doesn't acknowledge it. He doesn't turn to see who it is or check to see if it's a threat. He just keeps staring down into the water, the sound of the river below the only thing he can hear over his panicked breathing.

Jason came to a crashing halt at the side of the bridge, the panicked urgency in his voice clear. He stumbled off his bike, nearly falling as he yelled out.

"Where is he--” His hollow eyes darted around at their surroundings. "WHERE IS HE?!"

Dick.

Tim's eyes widened as Nightwing's head broke the surface of the water, his body floating limp against the current. He's alive.

His shoulders tense as he quickly scrambles to his feet, his body protesting in pain with each movement.

The relief he feels is quickly drowned out, however, as he notices the large bioluminescent tail wrapped around his older brother's lower half, keeping him from crashing with the harsh currents.

Jason quickly approached the bridges railing, his heavy boots thudding loudly against the concrete, his heart racing thunderously against his chest, deep sapphire eyes following Tim's wide gaze down into the water. As he saw the sight in front of him, his eyes widened in disbelief.

He gripped the rough stone ledge, leaning over to get a better look at his brother. "What the fuck is that?" The older boys voice cuts through the ringing in Drake's ears.

Tim couldn't respond, his eyes glued on the large tail, his jaw slack. He took in the sight of the long powerful appendage wrapped around his brother's waist. It was beautiful. The long black scales seemed to glow a soft purple even in the dim moon’s light, as if the creature attached was glowing itself. The bioluminescence was something that one could only describe as ethereal.

Tim's heart raced as he took a step closer to the edge of the bridge, his eyes darting around, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. He couldn't believe his eyes. Neither of them could.

Tim's mind reeled, trying to comprehend what they were seeing. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to process the situation. He knew that he should be scared. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt heavy and thick as he finally managed to speak, his voice low and shaky. "I..I don't know." He croaked.

A ragged breath escaped his lips as the sea creature met his gaze.

He was frozen as he locked eyes with the creature. His mouth went dry, everything around him seemed to disappear into the background. The only thing he could focus on was the deep piercing eyes peering up from the darkness of the river.

Everything about the creature was attractive – its long shimmering scales, bioluminescent glow, and even the large dorsal fin along its spine.

The flutter of the creature's gills when its eyes met theirs didn’t go unnoticed by the brothers. Jason's lips parted into as much of a smirk as it could given the situation.

The Mer's features slowly disappeared under the surface, as it made a sudden exit. Both of the boys' eyes flicked towards the water, but the sudden gasping from their elder brother drew their attention away once more.

Dick was struggling, coughing up water as he attempted to pull himself up and out of the water. His large hand was grasping desperately to the creature's shoulder, as he pulled himself up.

Tim's heart leapt into his throat as he watched Dick gasping for air, his body shivering as he struggled to grapple himself out of the water. He was so focused on his older brother's struggles that he almost missed the flicker of glowing purple as the creature’s tail disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

Tim moved forward to help Dick, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Jason with a grimace on his face.

"What are we going to do?" Tim asked, his voice filled with worry.

Their conversation was cut short, however, as Dick's coughing subsided, replaced by a strangled gasp for air, his eyes wide and frantic.

"I'm fine," he rasped, his hands trembling as he tried to pull himself up onto the bridge, his body shaking violently. His sharp ocean eyes focused on the crushed seaweed-looking salve used to treat his wounds.

Tim was about to respond when they heard a shuffling from the water, the faint sound of something scratching against the concrete. Tim's gaze snapped down to the water, his heart starting to pound against his chest.

Jason had already stepped back and drawn his weapon, his eyes fixed on a spot in the water a few feet below them. The sound of sloshing water echoed around them again, the dim light from the moon making it difficult to see anything except the faint bioluminescence.

And then, you were gone.

This is the result of the poll -> link.

Don’t judge my random fighting scene with Tim I was trying something out🦖🦖

All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged!

I rewrote everything, so I apologise that this took so long to come out💚

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xoxorealitygalore · 19 days ago

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Nasty Dancer III

Summary: Due to her unyielding confidence, Aphrodite earns her spot on the main roster, becoming The Bloodline's manager — or rather, Sefa's Special Counsel. His Wisewoman. But can she maintain her bold, unapologetic style when faced with her greatest challenge yet: working alongside her ex-boyfriend?

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae

Previous: Chapter Two

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noitsreallyaphrodite A night with the day ones ain't never hurt anybody 💕🍸

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Aphrodite’s friends—Mona, India, and Jatae—were gathered around her, their laughter and chatter forming a soft, comforting hum in the background as they readied themselves for the night ahead. The evening was meant to be a celebration of many things, though it felt a little complicated for Aphrodite. A call-up to the main roster in WWE was a huge achievement, one that deserved to be shouted from the rooftops. But tonight, there was something more she was trying to escape: the weight of her past. The weight of Joseph.

Mona, India, and Jatae were all there for her, each a vital part of the mosaic of her life. They had known Aphrodite since they were young girls in elementary school, and their bond had only strengthened over the years. Through every milestone, every heartbreak, and every success, they had been there. And tonight, they knew their role was no different: to help Aphrodite forget, if only for a few hours, the pain that still lingered from her breakup with Joseph—the man who had once been everything to her, but now, only a painful memory.

Dinner had been at Giselle, a fusion restaurant that had been their spot for as long as Aphrodite could remember. The city lights shimmered outside the windows of the sleek, upscale fusion restaurant. The hustle of the streets below was muffled by the heavy glass, but the energy of the night still found its way through—an electric hum that Aphrodite couldn’t quite ignore. The food had been good, but the company was what had really gotten her through.

The air was filled with the scent of truffle oil and seared tuna, but it was the conversation that mattered. Mona was the first to bring up the subject they all knew was on Aphrodite’s mind. They knew how much the breakup with Joseph had hurt her. It wasn’t just the end of a relationship, it was the loss of something even more significant: a future she had once thought was hers. The baby. The miscarriage. All the unspoken words, the guilt, the grief.

Jatae, always the protector, had been especially vocal about encouraging Aphrodite to speak to Joseph. To talk about the miscarriage, to not hold everything inside. She knew her friend’s silence wasn’t helping her heal. But Aphrodite wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to face Joseph—not after everything that had happened. Not after he’d broken her heart and not after she’d lost their child. Jatae had pushed. Jatae had supported. But it wasn’t until Aphrodite exploded at Joseph in an elevator, nearly screaming at him about the baby they almost had, that she realized how much the loss still consumed her.

And when she did, when she saw Jatae's look of concern, it had been the first time Aphrodite had seen the rawness of what she was carrying inside. But even then, Jatae hadn’t said "I told you so." She didn’t need to. She just offered to spend the week with Aphrodite, to help her get through it, however long it would take.

Now, an hour later, as the night morphed into something more vibrant and electric, they found themselves at the nightclub. The heavy bass of the music vibrated through the floor beneath their feet, and the colorful lights flickered overhead, splashing over the crowd like liquid rainbows. The atmosphere was infectious. The energy was real. It was supposed to be a night of fun, of distraction, and for a while, it was. Mona had Aphrodite laughing so hard that the ache in her chest seemed to ease just a little.

But then Joseph walked in.

Aphrodite’s stomach dropped, her eyes briefly meeting his from across the crowded room. He was with his cousins, Jacob and Zilla, along with a few other people Aphrodite didn’t recognize. She had heard that Joseph was a regular at this club, but seeing him in person felt like a punch to the gut. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, his attention on his own group, but as fate would have it, Yami—Jacob’s girlfriend, who also happened to work for WWE and was one of Aphrodite’s friends—spotted her from across the room.

“Hey, girl!” Yami called out, making her way over to Aphrodite’s section, her bright smile lighting up the space between them. The two shared a quick, genuine hug before Yami glanced at Joseph, then back at Aphrodite.

“Hey,” Aphrodite replied, her voice steady, though her heart was racing. She caught a glimpse of India’s narrowed eyes in her peripheral vision. India, the one who always kept an eye out for Aphrodite, the one who had never fully trusted Joseph, was already sizing him up.

Zilla, noticing the shift in the energy, leaned over and asked Mona if it was okay for them to join the girls in their section. Mona, ever the peacemaker, was quick to answer with a warm smile.

“The more, the merrier,” she said, though there was an edge to her voice that Aphrodite could hear, even through the music.

The song "Thuggin" by Big Boogie began to play, and the bass surged through the club, the rhythm like a heartbeat in the dark. Aphrodite let herself be swept into the music. She needed to feel alive again, to forget. Mona was right there beside her, dancing like they always had, and soon enough, Aphrodite found herself twerking against Mona’s body. The world around her blurred as the music consumed her, the alcohol warming her veins. For a few moments, she felt untouchable, invincible, and free from the weight of her emotions.

But then, the pressure of eyes on her returned.

Aphrodite knew Joseph was watching. She could feel it—the heat of his gaze burning through her skin like a memory she couldn’t erase. But she refused to look back. Instead, she kept dancing, focusing on Mona, who was matching her moves with a playful grin.

Meanwhile, Zilla leaned over and whispered something in Mona’s ear. Mona’s face lit up with a mischievous smile, and a few seconds later, the shift in seating took place. Without Aphrodite noticing, Mona and Joseph switched places, so now Joseph was seated behind her, his presence like a shadow she couldn’t escape.

India, who had been silently observing the whole situation, shook her head. She knew what Mona was trying to do. She knew Mona had a tendency to push things to the edge, to stir up emotions that Aphrodite wasn’t ready to face. India didn’t like it, and she wasn’t about to let it go down without a fight.

“Jatae,” India muttered under her breath, clearly irritated, “She’s doing it again. You know what she’s trying to do.”

Jatae, ever the calm one, simply grabbed India by the arm. “Let it be, India,” she said softly. “Let her handle this in her own way.”

But even Jatae couldn’t ignore the way the night was unfolding. The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible, like a storm on the horizon. Aphrodite felt it, too. The alcohol was loosening her inhibitions, but the feelings were still there, lurking beneath the surface. She wasn’t ready to deal with Joseph, but here he was, in her space, as if fate was forcing them to face what they hadn’t finished.

And then, without thinking, she turned around.

She could feel Joseph’s breath on her skin as he tugged her down onto his lap. His hands moved instinctively along her sides, tracing the contours of her body like he had done so many times before. And Aphrodite, in her slightly drunken haze, let herself lean back against his chest.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she told him, her voice low and almost defiant.

Joseph’s lips brushed her ear as he replied, his voice dark and steady. “I think it does.”

Before Aphrodite could respond, India, who had seen enough, rushed over and yanked her away from Joseph’s lap. “Bathroom break,” she said firmly, her grip tight on Aphrodite’s arm as she dragged her away.

Once in the bathroom, India didn’t hold back. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and frustration.

Aphrodite, feeling the alcohol start to dull the edges of her thoughts, shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Do you still love him?” India asked, already knowing the answer. “Of course you do. I don’t know why I even asked.”

Aphrodite sighed, but before she could respond, India went on a mini rant about how Joseph had hurt her, how he didn’t deserve her. Aphrodite didn’t have the energy to argue, but when India’s words started to sting, she snapped.

“Enough!” Aphrodite screamed. “I love you, and I know you’re looking out for me, but please stop. Let me figure things out on my own.”

India pouted, the hurt evident in her eyes, but she nodded silently. “I just don’t want you hurt again. Especially by him,” she said softly.

Aphrodite leaned into her, holding onto her tightly. “I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

In the quiet bathroom, the music from the club still thrummed faintly in the distance, but in that moment, everything else faded away. Aphrodite felt a strange sense of clarity, as though, for the first time in months, she was beginning to untangle the knots in her heart.

Tonight wasn’t about finding answers. It wasn’t about solving everything. It was about taking a breath. Letting go of the past, even if just for a few hours. And with her friends by her side, Aphrodite realized that, maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Next: Chapter Four

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crossfandomskylines · 3 months ago

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In the Space Between Us: Chapter 1

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: At Tanner Novlan's 4th of July barbecue, Gabby Summers finds herself unexpectedly face-to-face with Glen Powell—literally. What starts as a mishap quickly turns into something more as the two discover an effortless chemistry, sharing laughs, stories, and sidelong glances throughout the night. As fireworks light up the sky, Gabby wonders if their spark could be more than just a passing moment.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is my first fanfic that I've ever posted and there will be several more parts! Please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

The sky above Los Angeles was painted with the soft hues of an early July evening, just beginning to melt into a deeper blue as the sun dipped closer to the horizon. Tanner Novlan's backyard was alive with a festive warmth that matched the holiday. Strings of lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a soft glow on the gathering crowd. Laughter and chatter filled the air, blending with the faint melody of classic rock coming from a speaker nestled near the patio. The unmistakable aroma of barbecue wafted from the grill, where Tanner and Chord Overstreet stood, spatulas in hand, flipping burgers and ribs with practiced ease.

Gabby Summers strolled through the crowd, her nearly empty drink in hand. The warmth of the evening settled around her, making her feel slightly flushed, though she didn’t mind. She glanced around, catching sight of a few familiar faces mingling and laughing, each one immersed in the joy of the moment.

It was her first time at one of Tanner’s famous Fourth of July barbecues, and she’d been thrilled to receive an invitation through his wife, Kayla. With the soft California breeze brushing her cheeks and the hum of excited voices, she felt like she was finally, truly part of the city's creative scene.

Just as Gabby was about to slip back inside to refill her drink, she collided with someone hard enough to jolt the cup in her hand. A splash of cold liquid hit her, and she instinctively looked down. The bright red punch from a solo cup now stained her white T-shirt, its American flag graphic damp and smeared with sticky crimson.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The voice was deep and genuinely apologetic.

Gabby looked up, meeting the gaze of the man she’d bumped into. He had striking green eyes that sparkled with both concern and embarrassment, and his tall frame loomed over her as he quickly took in the mess. There was something familiar about his face, but she couldn’t quite place it, her thoughts still on the vibrant stain spreading across her shirt.

He grimaced, wincing as he took in the mess he’d inadvertently made. “I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?”

Gabby blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Yeah, I’m fine, just—" She looked down at the mess, managing a soft laugh. “Not exactly the look I was going for tonight.”

The man chuckled, his smile easy and a little sheepish. “I can imagine. Here, let me help you.” He held up his hand as if offering assistance, but hesitated, clearly realizing he couldn’t exactly clean the stain off for her. Instead, he gestured toward the house. “I think they’ve got some towels in the kitchen. Let me walk you over?”

Appreciating his awkward, sincere attempt to fix the situation, Gabby nodded, smiling as they headed inside.

Inside the kitchen, Gabby reached for a napkin to blot at the punch stain, though it did little to help. Tanner’s wife, Kayla, spotted them, her eyes widening slightly at the mess.

“Oh no, Gabby! Hang on, there might be a Tide to Go pen in the laundry room down the hall,” Kayla suggested, pointing in the direction of a nearby doorway. “Maybe that’ll do the trick.”

“Thanks, Kayla,” Gabby replied, smiling gratefully before heading down the hall with Glen close behind.

In the laundry room, Gabby took the Tide pen from the shelf and dabbed it against the glaring red stain, trying not to laugh at the hopelessness of the task. The stain had already set, bright and relentless, covering most of the front of her shirt.

“Looks like that punch doesn’t give up without a fight,” Glen said with a grin, watching as she sighed, inspecting the damage in the mirror.

Gabby gave up, a chuckle escaping her. “Well, it’s safe to say this shirt isn’t going back to normal tonight.”

Glen looked her over with an assessing gaze, and after a second, he shrugged, starting to unbutton his short-sleeved shirt.

“Here,” he said, sliding it off to reveal a fitted white tank underneath. He held out the shirt to her. “Take this. Your shirt’s basically a lost cause, and you probably don’t want to head back out there looking like… well, like this.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his offer. “Really? I can’t just take your shirt…”

“Sure you can,” he replied with an easy smile, urging the shirt into her hands.

Hesitantly, she took it, feeling a little self-conscious but grateful. “Alright, if you insist. Thanks.”

Glen stepped outside the laundry room to give her a moment to change. Gabby slipped out of her damp, stained shirt, and as she slid Glen’s over her shoulders, she immediately noticed the faint, rich scent of his cologne—fresh and woody with a hint of something warm and citrusy. She could pick out notes of bergamot and amberwood, leaving a soft, comforting mix of crispness and warmth.

The shirt was loose, the sleeves brushing past her elbows, and she buttoned it up, tucking it into her light-wash denim shorts to give it a bit of shape. She took a final glance in the mirror, adjusting the collar and smoothing the fabric. It wasn’t her planned look, but somehow, it felt effortless and casual, with a charm that almost suited her more than the original outfit had.

As Gabby opened the door and stepped out of the laundry room, she found Glen waiting just a few feet away. He was leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, and he straightened when he saw her.

“Thanks again for this,” she said, gesturing to his shirt with a shy smile. “I’m… well, I’m lucky you had a spare.” She paused, realizing something. “I just realized—I don’t actually know your name.”

He chuckled, a faint dimple appearing on his cheek as he extended a hand. “Glen. Glen Powell.”

The name rang a bell, but Gabby couldn’t place it immediately. She took his hand, her smile widening as his warm grip lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

“Nice to meet you, Glen. I’m Gabby—Gabriella Summers,” she replied, giving his hand a gentle shake.

“Gabriella,” he repeated, seeming to test the name with a slight smile.

She gave him a wry look. “At least I don’t look like I just lost a paintball match anymore.”

“Not at all,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her in his shirt. “In fact, I think you pull it off better than I do.”

Gabby laughed, warmth creeping into her cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you feel guilty.”

“Maybe,” he teased, shrugging. “But I mean it.”

They exchanged a smile, and for a moment, everything around them felt still, despite the faint sounds of music and laughter carrying in from outside.

“Shall we head back?” he asked, gesturing toward the door, though he made no move to walk ahead of her.

“Lead the way,” she replied, a hint of excitement bubbling up. She was starting to get the feeling that tonight might be more interesting than she’d expected.

As they returned to the party, Gabby and Glen quickly drifted back into the lively atmosphere of Tanner’s backyard. Glen stayed close by, occasionally stealing glances at her as she mingled with others, their earlier mishap now a quiet joke between them. Gabby found herself laughing more easily with each passing moment, almost as if the night had taken on a new lightness.

It wasn’t long before Tanner, who’d been tending the grill with Chord, noticed Glen’s unusual choice of attire.

“Glen! What’s with the tank top?” Tanner called over, smirking. “You out here trying to show off?”

Glen rolled his eyes, chuckling as he made his way over to where Tanner and Chord stood, flipping burgers and laughing amongst themselves.

“Long story,” Glen replied with a sheepish grin.

He nodded toward Gabby, who was chatting with Kayla a few steps away, wearing his button-up shirt. “I, uh… spilled my drink on her by accident. Figured the least I could do was offer her my shirt.”

Chord raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Slick move, man,” he joked, nudging Glen. “Because that’s exactly how you impress a girl: by drenching her in fruit punch.”

“Smooth,” Tanner chimed in, barely holding back a laugh. “You should write that down. ‘How to win a girl over, Glen Powell-style: ruin her shirt, then offer her yours.’”

Glen gave a good-natured laugh, shrugging. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Chord squinted, giving him a skeptical look. “Did it, though?”

They all burst out laughing, Glen running a hand through his hair, looking both amused and slightly self-conscious. He glanced back at Gabby, who caught his eye and smiled, a hint of curiosity in her expression as she looked at him and then back at the three of them.

“Guess you’ll just have to see,” Tanner added, clapping Glen on the shoulder. “You should probably get back over there before she realizes you’re not really that smooth.”

Glen smirked, accepting their playful jabs. “You’re probably right.”

The evening slipped by in a warm, carefree haze as Gabby and Glen gravitated toward each other again and again. They’d drift off to chat with other guests, but soon, she’d feel Glen by her side, making some dry, witty remark that would have her throwing her head back, laughing. His charisma was magnetic; he had this way of drawing her in with just the right mix of humor and charm.

Their conversations flowed effortlessly as they started talking about film. Gabby mentioned how she’d moved to Los Angeles recently, hoping to get her start in the industry. Glen’s eyes lit up in genuine interest, sharing some stories about his own early days, bouncing between roles as an actor, writer, and even producer. His passion for his work was evident, and it sparked something in her, making her want to tell him more about her own aspirations, the kinds of films she wanted to make.

From film, they moved on to travel, comparing notes on cities and countries they’d visited or dreamed of visiting. Both had a fondness for Europe—Italy especially. She talked about a summer she spent in Rome, completely absorbed in the art and food, and Glen shared his own story of wandering the quiet streets of Florence, charmed by the city’s history and beauty.

When they discovered they both had a love for cooking, Glen’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Alright, what’s your go-to meal if you’re trying to impress someone?” he asked, leaning in with an almost mischievous smile.

She thought for a moment, a small grin forming. “Pasta alla vodka,” she admitted. “I swear it’s the recipe my mom taught me, but I’ve added a few tricks of my own over the years. It’s usually a winner.”

He laughed, giving her an impressed nod. “I respect that. But next time, you’ll have to let me try it—then I’ll tell you if it really lives up to the hype.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Only if you make something for me, too.”

Their banter was easy, and each passing hour only seemed to make the chemistry between them more tangible. Gabby couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much in one night, and every time Glen flashed that confident smile, she felt her cheeks flush just a little more.

At one point, she found herself by Kayla’s side as they refilled their drinks. Gabby tried to keep her voice casual, but curiosity got the best of her. “So… what’s Glen’s story?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder where he was talking with Tanner and Chord.

Kayla immediately raised her brows, a knowing smile forming. “What, you interested?”

Gabby’s cheeks reddened, but she shrugged, trying to keep her cool. “He’s interesting, that’s all. I’m just curious.”

Kayla chuckled, giving her a look that suggested she saw right through her. “Alright, well… Glen’s been in the industry for a while. He’s one of those guys who can do a little bit of everything—acting, producing, even some writing. He’s kind of having a moment right now. He’s been good friends with Tanner and Chord for years; they’ve worked together on a few projects. But as far as relationships go, let’s just say he hasn’t really been looking for anything serious lately.”

“Oh.” Gabby tried to mask her disappointment, even though a little twinge of it crept in.

“But,” Kayla added with a wink, “that doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time. And, well, judging by the way he keeps glancing over here, I’d say he’s at least a little interested.”

Gabby felt a mix of excitement and caution. Maybe Glen wasn’t looking for anything serious, but that didn’t mean tonight couldn’t be fun. After all, she’d just moved to LA and was open to meeting new people and making memories.

Meanwhile, across the patio, Glen was in the middle of a conversation with Tanner and Chord, but his gaze drifted toward Gabby as she laughed at something Kayla said.

“Alright, I’ve got to know,” Glen said to Tanner with a smirk, nodding in Gabby’s direction. “Who is she?”

Tanner glanced over, recognizing the interest in Glen’s voice. “Her name’s Gabby. She’s friends with Kayla. They met through a mutual friend and hit it off. Why? Interested?”

Glen laughed, but there was a spark in his eyes. “Not sure yet.”

As the night went on, Glen and Gabby found themselves side by side again. The conversations continued, but there was an added warmth between them now, a spark that lingered as they shared subtle glances and soft smiles.

As the evening began winding down, the air filled with a new kind of energy as Tanner announced that the fireworks show was about to start. Guests began to gather on the lawn, chairs and blankets spread across the grass as they looked up in anticipation. The barbecue’s earlier lively chatter had softened, replaced by a hushed excitement as everyone waited for the first burst of color to light up the night.

Glen spotted Gabby not far off, standing at the edge of the group, her eyes turned toward the sky. Without even thinking, he drifted over to her side, catching her eye just as the first fireworks burst into a spray of red and gold above them.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” he murmured, glancing at her.

She smiled, nodding, her gaze never leaving the display above. “It’s beautiful. And the perfect way to end the night.”

They stood side by side, close enough that their arms brushed as each firework exploded overhead. With each burst, the colorful lights reflected in Gabby’s wide eyes, casting her face in an ethereal glow that held Glen’s attention longer than he’d planned. He found himself caught up in her quiet awe, as if he were seeing the fireworks for the first time himself.

Another firework burst overhead, this one in a brilliant shade of purple, and Gabby looked over at him, catching his gaze. Her expression softened, and she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“What?” Glen asked, smiling.

“Nothing,” she replied, her voice warm and teasing. “I just didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”

“Me neither,” he admitted, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not exactly how I usually try to make a first impression.”

Her laughter mixed with the faint crackle of the fireworks, and Glen felt something shift between them, a quiet understanding as the night grew darker and the crowd grew quieter. When the final firework exploded, painting the sky in shimmering gold, he leaned just a little closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, catching her attention once more. “Would you maybe want to go out sometime? You know, somewhere that doesn’t involve me ruining your clothes.”

Gabby laughed, the sound easy and genuine. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“I think I’d like that,” she replied, a smile lingering on her lips as the last of the fireworks faded into the night sky.

As the last guests began drifting out and the night turned quiet, Gabby made her way back through the house to say her goodbyes. She found Kayla near the patio, chatting with a few friends, and hugged her, thanking her for the invitation and a night she wouldn’t forget. After bidding farewell to Tanner and a few others, she turned to head out, only to find Glen standing nearby, as if he’d been waiting for her.

“Heading out?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes warm.

She nodded, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Yeah, it’s getting late, and I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Mind if I walk you to your car?” Glen offered.

Surprised but pleased, she smiled. “Sure, I’d like that.”

They stepped out into the cool night, the hum of conversation fading as they moved away from the house. The quiet of the street was a stark contrast to the party’s earlier energy, and as they walked, Gabby felt the weight of the evening settle in—a mix of exhilaration and curiosity about where this unexpected connection with Glen might lead.

When they reached her car parked a few houses down, she turned to face him, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, thanks for walking me.”

“Anytime,” he replied with a slight grin. “By the way... about that date we talked about—mind if I get your number?”

She could feel her cheeks warm as she pulled her phone out, exchanging numbers with him, their hands brushing briefly as they made the switch. Just then, Gabby looked down and realized she was still wearing his shirt.

“Oh, I almost forgot—do you want your shirt back?” she asked, tugging at the collar, her smile sheepish.

Glen just shook his head, grinning. “Nah, keep it. Gives me a reason to see you again.” His voice held a playful note, though his gaze was sincere.

She chuckled, glancing down at the shirt she now realized she’d probably end up wearing to bed. “Alright, then. Guess I owe you one.”

As they stood there in the quiet night, an unspoken warmth lingered between them, both hesitant to let the evening end. Gabby took a small breath, then stepped forward, her movements soft but deliberate. She wrapped her arms around Glen, feeling the warmth of his frame envelop her in return. He held her gently, his hands resting on her back in a way that felt both natural and steadying.

The embrace lingered a little longer than a simple goodnight might warrant. She could feel the beat of his heart against her, steady and strong, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. The scent of his cologne, warm with hints of amberwood and bergamot, was even more noticeable now, filling her senses and adding an unexpected intimacy to the moment.

Glen’s hand slid just slightly, almost protectively, over her shoulder as they held onto each other. Gabby felt herself relax against him, the shared silence feeling more like an unspoken promise than a goodbye. As they finally pulled back, his hands stayed on her arms for a beat longer, as if reluctant to fully let her go.

“Goodnight, Gabby,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth she hadn’t heard before.

“Goodnight, Glen,” she replied, her gaze lingering on his as a small, shy smile spread across her face.

She took a step back, feeling the lingering warmth of his touch even as she opened her car door. He gave her a small wave as she settled in, his expression holding a softness that told her he’d felt it too—the spark of something just beginning.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell Series #Glen Powell x OC #Glen Powell x Original Character

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hey-august · 7 months ago

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Brought to you by this wonderful request from @soupsprout !

WC: ~1.4k Warnings: SFW, buggy x gn!reader, established relationship, mild profanity, cozy fluffy bathtime, buggy loves richie i promise

The sharp stench of wildlife, dusty earth, and shit permeated the room so effectively that even your dreams were saturated. The moonlight visions flickered under the muck before giving way and dropping you back in bed. You groaned from the abrupt shift from sleep to consciousness. Cracking an eye open, you saw the source of the awful aroma close the bedroom door. The figure whispered and muttered to himself, only allowing syllables to peak in volume before reigning in the rest of his intelligible tirade.

“Bad night, hun?”

“Wha- fu- what??” Buggy constricted his alarm into a whispered shout. “I thought you were sleeping, it’s so damn late,” he hissed.

“I am,” you drawled. “Are you coming to bed soon?”

“Not like this,” Buggy said. Looking down at his clothes covered in hay, mud, something that looked like mud, and strands of Richie’s mane, the captain deflated. His anger gave way to resignation. “M’gonna clean up first. Just for you, babe.”

A bright smile carried through your exhaustion on a giggle, giving the pirate a much-needed boost. Buggy lifted his arms and bowed theatrically. He alternated hands to blow you kisses before clawing the air like a lion and sending you one final kiss. It was goofy - cheesy at best. And yet those antics never failed to make you laugh and fall a little harder.

You laid in bed and listened to the sound of running water. Both crisp and dull, it almost sounded like a waterfall. The current carried you gently through time that moved both fast and slow. The sharp water sound stopped but the deeper noise continued. A little thought swam past your raft, saying something about a bath. Isn’t that nice. A shower and a bath - Buggy would definitely be clean after that. Warm water, maybe a blanket of suds…

Buggy didn’t hear you slip into the bathroom over the sound of the running tap. He had been leaning back, eyes closed, and focusing on the feeling of the water creeping up his body, sliver by sliver. The water changed pitch through the dancing ripples when you slid into the opposite side of the tub.

“Sleeping, huh?”

You shrugged with a sheepish grin. “The bed is too big without you.”

“You said no to the hammock.”

Buggy reached over to turn off the tap and you took advantage of the close proximity to flick a few drops of water at him.

“You move too much for a hammock. I like the bed, it’s just better with you in it.”

Buggy grinned and opened his mouth to respond, which turned out to be the perfect target for more water projectiles. A hand swam over to splash you back while Buggy turned his face away. With two wet losers, the short aquatic battle was over and both sides sank deeper into the hot water.

You stared through still drowsy eyes at your partner on the other side of the bath. His freshly washed hair was tied up on the top of his head. A few tendrils escaped and the tips clung to the surface of the water, the vibrant strands looking more like water than the actual liquid in the tub.

Buggy’s face was clean. Mostly clean. Stubborn charcoal clung to his eyes, not yet ready to leave his eyes unlined. His lips had a red hue, either stained from long-lasting make-up or because he scrubbed too hard to remove the cosmetics. It could also be a slight reflection from his red nose. In the steamy room, that crimson feature almost appeared luminescent and you loved it. Even with all the excess colors washed away, this was your Buggy.

Like the shared bed, the tub was big. One night had found Buggy, Mohji, and Cabaji crammed in the tub, where they drunkenly believed themselves to be adrift at sea, so it was more than comfortable for two people. But it was also too big.

You reached out of the bath for a washcloth and beckoned for Buggy to come closer. The water sloshed back and forth, a small tide ebbing and flowing while he changed positions and sat with his back to you. You dipped the cloth in the warm water and got to work.

While all the filth had been washed away in the shower, his shoulders and back weren’t blank canvases. You pulled the wet cloth along fresh and fading bruises, scars from a time long ago, swatches of sunburned skin, and dustings of freckles. The washcloth’s path was followed by your hand. Skin against skin, trailing the warmth and feeling every mark, every pull and tug of his muscles, and his relaxation.

For you, it was mesmerizing. Soothing. And next, it was your turn.

“Alright, alright, switch!” Buggy interrupted your unexpected meditation moment.

Rather than creating waves spinning around, the pirate chose to create a mini-maelstrom. Tilting his head back to rest on your shoulder, Buggy balanced that piece on your body while the rest of him fell apart and dropped underwater. His bits and pieces wiggled and zoomed past you, like a panicked school of fish. You yelped in surprise at the commotion, which ended nearly as abruptly as it began. A solid form collected itself behind you, Buggy’s head chuckling when it rejoined his body and he nudged you forwards.

Whatever exclamations hadn’t found their way out of your mouth were shushed and soothed away by the washcloth now in Buggy’s hold. Rivulets of water escaped the small towel dragged down your shoulder, the creeks finding paths along the front and back of your torso. Buggy used his other hand to scoop up more water to pour on your back. Between the textured cloth, the pirate’s large hands, and the streaming water, you felt like you were bundled in a cozy blanket.

“How did things go with Richie?” The question took a lot of effort to pull from the weight of the attention on your back and the tiredness regrowing inside.

“How do you think?” Buggy grumbled. A small surviving ember of agitation flared up. “It’s just a shot. I don’t understand why that mass of fur and teeth is afraid of a measly needle. We even had a plan, a whole routine and script for ten people. Ten!”

Buggy pushed the cloth back into the tub with a loud punctuating splash. Your acknowledging hum was pulled into a comforted sigh with the next pour of water on your skin. Tilting your head forwards and catching the rising warmth from the tub on your face, you closed your eyes and continued listening.

“He’s just an overgrown cub. He put on the performance of a lifetime as a scared kitty cat,” Buggy huffed. His breath was cool on your neck and brought out goosebumps that he chased away with a calloused hand.

“-it wasn’t just mud. I told them to clean everything before we started, but apparently that didn’t include the mountain of shit…”

You jumped slightly and opened your eyes. Part of the story was missing and backtracking didn’t uncover any misplaced words in your head. Whatever Buggy said had drifted past you without stopping. It was getting hard to concentrate and untangling this tale was too much. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on his voice again.

Water tickled the tip of your nose and made you aware of another missing chunk of the story. Your body was bent from a sedating massage and your head had drooped so far forwards that your next breath might have been underwater. Buggy’s hands kneaded your shoulders in time with his unending monologue.

You groaned softly and sat up straighter, swaying slightly from the change in position. Buggy’s touch moved to your neck, his fingers walking up to the base of your skull and making you realize just how heavy your head felt. You let it loll to the side and followed his movements. His words, however, went unfollowed.

Another gap in time brought you to bed. The sleep that caught up to you in the tub receded slightly, now that you were under dry sheets. You still felt flushed from the bath and the areas where Buggy had wrapped himself around your body were sticky. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. The closeness was exactly what you wanted.

#buggy fluff #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #hey-august buggy fic

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stqrlverr · 9 days ago

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SINFUL WATCHERS | 002

pairing // s. geto x f!reader // w.c 1863

synopsis: Geto Suguru, moulded from not only the strongest of clays but by the hefty hands of the Lord himself, and his brazen suggestion for himself and classmate/distant friend, L/n Y/n (aka Satan's favourite poem and existence opposed by heaven's residents), to anonymously post a video of their lewd entanglement to satisfy harmless desire proves to be everything but that - as unlike L/n, who indulges in the destruction that could ensue amidst their sexual interactions, the remnants of purity within Geto and his purpose on earth (unbeknownst to him) are vulnerable to being overshadowed by his inconspicuous image of libertine. Who knew one video could overturn God's plan?

warnings: 18+, heavy smut, modern!uni/alternative!AU, forbidden romance (?), fwb, angst, uploading of NSFW content by characters (basically Twitter p0rn stars), blasphemy, religious imagery/symbolism

series m // chapter 001 // chapter 003

AS Y/N TRUDGED down the stoned path; a yawn accidentally tumbled off her tongue after the transparent puffs illustrating the chilly breeze attempted to ambush her clothed figure despite the oversized coat she clung to in desperation to obtain body heat.

Beginning her third year at university had its benefits – such as the academic term beginning mid-autumn, which permitted admiration for the sky's decorative imagery.

Murky swirls obscured the visibility of the highest building tops as street lamps guided citizens. Fumes of revved engines at a standstill via traffic were one of her favourite scents, an unhealthy aroma similar to one of petrol, whilst the fog embraced a noose around residents of this specific road as it revelled in forcing drivers to operate their headlights despite the mornings' arouse. The gloomy mist encompassing Y/n's location was apologetic, forced to shoulder the benevolent sun's role who'd been dismissive of its job.

Her half-lidded eyes struggled to cloak the remaining tiredness, still apparent, having not attained any peaceful hours of Z's last night.

Eight AM. How dreadful for commuters in Tokyo?

Having been awoken around two hours prior, a forceful splash of freezing water to revive her sunken traits, followed by her cramped travel on the overcrowded tube, hadn't benefitted her as she remained unaffected by the chilly liquid and bustling crowd.

Reserved behind her shoulders was her hair, typically down and lacklustre of any fancy styling, which slightly swayed with each sluggish step she took towards her first destination before reaching the building home to campus grounds she was to be present in – the frontal pieces feathered to frame her beguiling features; wispy and requiring low maintenance.

Her excuse for the inflation of her eye bags (although smartly disguised with concealer) was solely due to her commitment to achieving the highest grade possible; Y/n's intelligence was overlooked and never truly acknowledged, yet a far more important attribute compared to her stunning looks. Fortunately, her lashes and the upper curve of her eyes, thinly lined with black, beautified her irises.

Truthfully, despite Y/n's nose buried between countless books last night, the off-white pages were repetitive and struggled to grasp her full attention. Although she genuinely attempted to cram as much revision as possible so she could attain the best possible grade.

Generally, she thoroughly enjoyed the subject, the literature entertaining and enjoyable to assess – especially when using a multitude of highlighters, the vibrant colours signifying essential sections of text. Furthermore, the rhythmical language studies expanded the pallet of her vocabulary.

Focusing her sight on her suede mules, largely clocked by her baggy jeans, she continued her journey in silence. Her headphones awaited use in her tote bag, the pattern of her breathing less irritable than the music usually pooled within her ears.

One small purpose of her timid amble down the dimly lit road busied by rampant engines was to regain control of her flailing nerves, not prepared to settle until her favourite beverage soothed the dehydration of her throat – Tokyo's chill her body's enemy as the lightweight haze infused itself upon her flesh, her paleness temporary and due to dissolve once she emerged past the homey entrance of her favourite café.

"My dear L/n!".

Y/n jolted as her lips pinched together in a hard line from the sudden verbal attack. Her body flinched before she swore impulsively in a sharp outburst. Her muscles relaxed, and her expression contorted into an unimpressed flat-lined frown, having registered the lanky man sneering before her.

Gojo Satoru grinned, flashing his pearly rows of teeth, which she internally questioned whether she should lean over and bash in, ultimately settling on restraint rather than pursuit.

Her defeated sigh pecked his ears before her playful punch landed on his tanned arm, which elicited his chortle once he mentally replayed the reaction he had successfully pulled out of her.

"What do you want?" She questioned as he strode beside her but out of sync, his strides longer and mismatched because of the gap between their heights.

Much to the girl's dismay, she attempted to mend their desynchronisation. His amiable grin, which lovesick girls fawned over, crept upon his peach lips, having noted her struggle to match his chipper pace.

"That's how you greet me?" Gojo pouted, and his arctic hues followed suit as they exhibited a false narrative of nurture and a blanket of commitment to long-term romance for women who frolicked around him, although aware of his natural ability to romanticise any girl with cordial charm.

His second-to-best friend huffed with her softly filled-in brow arched when turning to face him whilst tranquillity slung around their necks like an additional companion, the roads continuously occupied unlike the pathway weirdly lacking other pedestrians.

Due to his physical traits and all-rounded personality, many female students swooned despite his reputation of going on meaningless dates every other night. Women weren't aware of his inner-wiring, his strenuous efforts to please his expectant parents with a biology degree overshadowed by his public image of being notorious on the basketball court. However his charismatic character overrode his flaws concerning arrogance typically present during matches.

He was one out of two of her best/close friends. However, she never missed an opportunity to mention her tolerance for Gojo stemmed from their introduction in secondary school – otherwise, she would've avoided him and his coy advances long ago.

"Seriously, you seem moodier than usual." her lean snowy-haired friend pointed out, and she merely nodded in agreement.

The charming flirt regularly sprouted nonsense she disagreed with, a constant routine between the duo which showcased the power dynamic within their friendship; however, she couldn't deny the accuracy beneath his observation today.

"That's because you're with me and not Nanami." she joked as she name-dropped the third member of her trio, but quickly returned to her emotionless daze.

She continued, "Okay, I'm just messing. I stayed up late-".

"Doing what, huh?" His query interrupted her explanation before he launched a cheeky grin upon his pristine face whilst she scoffed, turning away with flushed cheeks when unable to erase his suggestive smirk.

His assumption was highly crude and certainly not a confession Y/n would admit to Gojo or any other friends for that matter; however, she detested his sexual indication not being incorrect.

Admittedly, last night's events included a miniature break of self-pleasure, which had occurred not once but thrice. It appeared overboard yet Y/n couldn't resist admiring her touch against her tense figure in front of her mirror. That bubbling rush of temporary desire to orgasm replaced her regular bloodstream with buzzing adrenaline.

Thus, another reason behind her consciousness awake past her regular bedtime was to be caught up with content following the hours she had thrown to waste.

"Don't interrupt me, and I didn't invite you." her stare acquainted itself once again with her shoes, mentally aware it was he who usually accompanied her to this specific business surrounding freshly brewed java anyway. Plus, Gojo was accustomed to her particular methods of teasing.

"Anyways, forget it." she finished, and Gojo nodded in understanding as he too strived to maintain an acceptable grade for the sake of his reputation and several adults polluting his life.

Abruptly, his features souring disrupted their rapport.

"Now, who seems moody? Date with a weirdo?" Y/n teased with an edge of curiosity, wonderous but not surprised at his sudden shift in mood.

The typical Gojo Satoru cowered out, his confidence raised on honour and elevation. "Nah, just thought about yesterday's practice exam," he paused as his usual cheer returned. "Also, yes. She was weirder than she let on." He shuddered.

Y/n scoffed at his dramatics, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, as he was a man hellbent on athleticism, his attractiveness, and being the best.

"That bad? Consider it as a pre-caution, for your sin of leading all these girls will bite you in the ass one day." She lectured with a shake of her head, a timid laugh caused by her point and her self-appreciation for not romantically admiring men like himself.

Gojo's lip snagged into a relatively relaxed smile when reminiscing about her previous reprimands regarding his romantic ways. He proceeded to watch Y/n's shoulders deflate and bewitching eyes roll back, having noticed he interpreted her care as pure entertainment and that her warnings wouldn't be taken seriously.

"Oi..." She warned before a sharp inhale swept across her lungs, interrupting his miniature admiration in the midst of opening the pristine glass door, a portal for savoury pastries desperate to be tasted and their purpose fulfilled once gnawed upon in customers' watering mouths.

The (unprofessional) athlete jumped back with his arms blocked in front of him, a lame excuse of a shield upon noting his failure to hold the entrance agape for his friend, who usually moseyed into the familiar environment before him.

"There's only banana-nut muffin left," he explained, scurrying to the counter, his soft spot for Y/n inexcusable for allowing her to purchase the last treat they both favoured.

"I would've let you have it, idiot." She softly called out behind him.

***

Having bid a group of students goodbye, Y/n almost cherished her ease for conversing with anyone, the students waving as they walked away, having partaken in civil communication, the regular questions regarding the progress of their studies and their overall mood discussed.

Students who exchanged pleasantries with the extroverted introvert noted her openness to any conversation with anyone, her bias non-existent and her opinions judgement-free. Her swift remarks and sarcastic banter balanced her stoic demeanour and unconscious scowl, a shield for her hesitation to trust. Her ability to expel discomfort between herself and a newly introduced soul was relieving (but worrisome for a specific group of others) as rumours of a disinterested and unapproachable aura were proven false once anyone was gifted an opportunity to converse with her.

However, the injurious thorns sown beneath her flesh that were moulded by scorched soil planted within hell's backyard, spared the oblivious undergraduates from the pernicious effects of being pricked. Satan's icky cords permanently seared around her figure was representative of her odious character, a sufferer from vitriolic attacks by the deceased graded as absolute piety living in Heaven.

Prioritisation of meaningless temptation obfuscated residents of this temporary world and their ability to differentiate others' authenticity, their wrongful regard of Y/n's ruthless reputation humorous and her delight in malignity soon to evolve as others risked an eternal blaze for voluntarily witnessing her and another's videoed sin.

Y/n's posture straightened, having noticed a familiar figure intrude her line of vision, her back stiff from resting against the bumpy brick of one of the main buildings she had been waiting to enter.

Incarnated with traits of infernal yet masked by normalcy aided her popularity amongst her peers. All but one man birthed to derail the desire for deeds linked to the underworld, associated her with the deathly region. Yet, his bewitchment surrounding the rendezvous of their two souls replaced the objective of his origin.

"How nice of you to join me, Geto.".

Blurred like an un-steadied lens attempting to focus, Y/n and Geto were mistakenly camouflaged with other students, two future stars too hidden to detect.

tags:@ghostibear @thatgirllls-blog @vellichor01 @unicornflutter @luckyperfectionsandwich @alonahh @lusttforblood @colorfulsaladtrash @twistedsxnshine @shibataimu @faercita @wayrjbfr @gigibowe-blog @duooy @twcaroll @redbullsmoochiesxo @luxuryoflulls @xnqq @hopefulsheepexpert @axelotl-05 @diamondsandluck @angel-babyslair @sativame @starrynights23x @annasimp1213 @kpopstanlmao @uhh-regan @scubba9dudd @justagirlnamedkai @keldracula @dear-my-j @floufroo @crimsonqueen398 @sukisushicat @anothergachakid @dumbbunny98 @bijuu-naginata

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen suguru #female reader #stqrlverr

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infamous-light · 1 year ago

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Captured Part IV

Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

AO3: Captured

Summary: You and your mutant friends have been in hiding due to the havoc you all wreaked over the past few years. One day, you all decided to make your presence known and rob one of the largest federal reserve banks in the U.S.

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: Mind manipulation, kidnapping

The soft rays of the first morning light, like a delicate brushstroke, filtered through the curtains, creating a mesmerizing dance of shadows on the walls. The bedroom seemed to come alive with subtle warmth as if the sun itself was gently caressing the entire space. As you gradually opened your eyes, the bedroom came into focus, and the events of the past day lingered in the air like a dream, though their details were veiled behind some sort of invisible haze.

The beginnings of a headache had crept in as you tried to piece together the fragments of your recent memory. It was as if a fog had settled over your thoughts and each attempt to recall any details brought forth a dull throb across your temples.

As you continued to awaken, the ambient sounds from outside the bedroom window seeped into your awareness – the distant chirping of birds, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the liquid melody of a nearby stream. The bright colors of the bedroom took on a dreamlike quality, with the pastel hues of the walls and furnishings appearing more vibrant.

Once you sat up in bed, the door creaked open, and Wanda entered with a warm smile on her face.

“Good morning. I hope you had a restful night." Her voice was pleasant but there was a subtle undertone of amusement that went unnoticed by you.

Your response was hesitant, your mind still grappling with the fog of confusion. "Good morning." You managed to mumble.

Wanda moved across the bedroom and sat down next to you on the bed.

"Such a sleepyhead," she teased, playfully tousling your hair. "Come on, rise and shine. There’s breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen, and I thought you might want to join us. Natasha’s currently setting the table.”

You blinked a few times, attempting to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Uh, yeah. I’ll join you two in a few minutes.”

“Ok, but don’t take too long. Breakfast won’t wait for you forever.” With that, she leaned in and planted a sweet, unexpected kiss on your right cheek.

The tenderness of it left you momentarily breathless as a cascade of emotions played out within you – surprise and a hint of vulnerability. Wanda’s lips curled into a smirk as she observed your reaction. Her fingers trailed over your cheek for a moment before she pulled away. She left the bedroom and closed the door on her way out. Only the subtle scent of her perfume lingered behind.

You snapped out of the daze you were in and swung your legs over the side of the bed, making your way to the bathroom. Once inside, the mirror revealed a face still marked by sleep. As you gazed at your reflection, something uneasy overcame you, a mysterious force shrouding the edges of your consciousness.

With a hesitant hand, you reached for the faucet, allowing a stream of cool water to spiral into the sink below. Your eyes met their own reflection once more, seeking answers to the discomfort that had settled low in your gut. You splashed water on your face, but it did little to dispel the nagging feeling that scraped against your mind like talons.

After finishing your morning routine and with your undergarments in place, you selected a plain navy blue shirt from a neatly organized wardrobe. Its soft fabric embraced your skin as you slipped it on. Next, you opted for a pair of comfortable grey sweatpants that you had stumbled upon while rifling through the drawers. Its snug fit provided the perfect balance between casual and relaxed.

Heading toward the kitchen, the savory aroma of sizzling bacon wafted through the air, its enticing fragrance mingling with the rich, buttery scent of eggs. It made your stomach growl in anticipation. Upon entering, your eyebrows rose at the spread before you.

On the porcelain plates, golden-brown pancakes were stacked high while each layer was adorned with a pat of melting butter. The edges of the pancakes boasted a perfect crispness while the centers promised a fluffy tenderness. Nestled beside the pancakes were eggs cooked to perfection – sunny-side up, their yolks like liquid sunshine ready to burst forth at the slightest prod. The bacon was also expertly prepared. Each strip exuded a smoky aroma that mixed well with the rest of the food. Completing the breakfast set, there was a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice placed in the middle of the table.

Wanda motioned for you to take a seat. "Come on. Sit with us.”

"I hope you like your eggs sunny side up." Natasha said, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Grateful for the unexpected treat, you gave them a small smile as you sat down at the table. "This looks amazing. Thank you."

As you took your first bite, the eggs melted in your mouth, and the burst of flavors from the seasoning complemented the dish perfectly. You couldn't help but express your delight.

"This is incredible.”

Natasha smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

After finishing a fulfilling breakfast, Wanda and Natasha exchanged glances with each other, seemingly satisfied that you had eaten everything on your plate.

Wanda, with a cheerful demeanor, suggested, “How about we all watch a movie together?”

Your lips curved into a genuine expression of joy and you nodded in excitement.

“Wonderful.” Wanda remarked.

The rest of the day settled into a subdued ambiance as the three of you found yourselves in the living room, nestled together on the plush couch that was littered with an assortment of cushions and throws.

Wanda sat on one end of the couch, leaning against the armrest while Natasha sat to your left, leaving you in the middle of the couch.

As the plot of the movie thickened, Natasha edged closer to you. Her movements were smooth and unassuming, yet the warmth emanating from her presence was palpable. In a tender moment, she playfully nudged your arm, silently expressing a desire for a closer connection.

You turned your head to face Natasha, meeting her eyes with a questioning look. Without a word, she scooted even closer and draped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side. The comfort of her body drew you in and your head instinctively nestled in the crook of her neck, a position that felt surprisingly natural despite the unfamiliarity of the situation. Her fingers threaded through your hair and in that moment, time seemed to slow down.

Wanda noticed and couldn’t help but smile. Seizing the moment, she shifted closer, joining the cuddle session. Her touch added an extra layer of warmth.

Just as the movie reached a suspenseful climax, the room was interrupted by the sudden ringtone of Natasha's phone. The sound caused you to jump, your attention torn away from the TV screen. Natasha frowned, reaching for the phone in her jeans pocket. Its bright screen cast a brief glow against her features.

Without uttering a word, Natasha exchanged a knowing look with Wanda that left you puzzled. Natasha sighed and turned her gaze toward you.

"Stay here," Natasha said, her tone carrying both reassurance and a sense of urgency. "We'll be right back."

Wanda disentangled herself from you but not before giving your hand a quick, comforting squeeze and rose to her feet. They left the living room, leaving you alone on the couch. As Wanda and Natasha ventured down the hallway, their voices became muffled whispers.

With the movie still playing in the background, you made a valiant attempt to focus on the plot unfolding on the screen. However, your attention wavered, and an insatiable curiosity about the secretive phone call tugged at your thoughts. Unable to resist any longer, you kicked the many blankets off yourself and got up.

You made your way to the door, your hand grasping the cold metal handle. The hinges let out a faint creak as you eased it open. Silently, you stepped past the threshold, carefully closing the door behind you to avoid any unnecessary noise.

The soft carpet beneath your feet absorbed the slightest of sounds, turning each step into a near-silent dance across the floor. The hushed voices became more distinct as you approached the source. The sound seemed to originate from a room at the end of the hall, drawing you closer with each carefully placed step. Straining your ears, you could have sworn that your name was being said.

As you reached the partially open door, you peeked past the doorframe, catching a glimpse of Natasha engaged in a seemingly intense phone call. Natasha, her brow furrowed in concentration, held the phone to her ear while gesturing emphatically with her free hand. Wanda, on the other hand, leaned against a table, her keen eyes focused on a distant point in the room.

“I know, Steve!” Natasha’s tone was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. “As for now, Wanda and I have her under control. She’s not an immediate threat to anyone. Once we find out where the rest of her friends are, we’ll send her over to you, alright?”

You stand frozen in disbelief as Natasha's words rang in your ears, her voice slicing right through you like an icy blade. The revelation sent shivers down your spine, and a knot tightened in the pit of your stomach. You searched for some sign that this was all some twisted joke, but Natasha's unwavering gaze and the gravity in her words crushed any hope of that.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Just then, a wave of disorientation hit you like a two-ton truck. Your immediate surroundings, once stable, seemed to warp around the edges. It was as if reality itself was playing tricks on your mind.

Wanda's face materialized right before you. A cruel smirk aimed directly at you.

Swirling magnetic red emanated from her eyes. The intensity of her gaze pierced through the very fabric of your being.

Then, in the shadowy backdrop, a black mass shifted behind Wanda.

Natasha now stood above you, her presence casting a chilling shadow. Her gaze was cold, devoid of any warmth as she stared down at you.

“You’ll never break me!”

A voice rang out. It sounded familiar but you struggled to place it.

“We’ll see.”

The response was murmured. Calculated.

The hallway around you seemed to spin as you were brought back to the present. The abrupt transition had you struggling to regain your bearings and you clung to the nearby wall for support. The relentless surge of pain that radiated from your skull intensified with each passing moment and you clamped a trembling hand over your mouth, desperate to stifle the pained groan threatening to escape.

You didn’t want to alert Natasha and Wanda of your presence, uncertain about how they would react to you eavesdropping on their conversation.

A frustrated huff sounded from the room and your attention snapped back to the two women once more. Natasha placed the phone back in her pocket as she began to pace back and forth.

“I should’ve known Steve was going to find out sooner than later.” Natasha muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and concern.

“I’m guessing someone at HQ snitched on us.” Wanda said with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, and he’s pretty adamant about having her confined under their supervision. His reasoning is that he wants to expedite her trial.” Natasha explained, her irritation palpable as she paused in the middle of the room.

“We can’t let that happen.”Wanda asserted as she took a step closer to the assassin.

“I know.”

Wanda's brow furrowed as she stood there, deep in thought, the gears of her mind turning with a cunning intensity. A few seconds had passed before Wanda's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as a devious idea took shape in her head.

“I have an idea,” she said. "Let’s fake her death.”

Natasha, intrigued, arched a curious eyebrow at her. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Your eyes widened at her words and apprehension began to churn in your gut. The air felt charged with an unsettling energy.

"How about we arrange for her to be transported in one of those high-security prisoner trucks. During the transfer, we stage a crash – nothing too crazy, just enough to make it look fatal. We'll have emergency services and the media involved, creating a narrative that she died in the accident." Wanda continued, her mind already working out the intricate details. "We can use the chaos and confusion to discreetly move her to where we want, away from prying eyes.”

Natasha sighed as she folded her arms across her chest. “They’re not going to buy that. S.H.I.E.L.D is too skeptical and you can bet they'll dig deep into the details.” The room fell into a thoughtful silence, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of her fingers against her bicep.

“Then what should we do?” Wanda asked.

"What if we let her escape?" Natasha suggested, her gaze narrowing with intent. “You could use your powers to create an illusion, make it look like she died by your hand.”

"That's risky." Wanda said in a measured tone. "But it's doable."

“Good. We can discuss the details later.” Natasha concluded. “We should get back to her and see how she’s doing.”

A sense of uneasiness lodged itself in the pit of your stomach as you moved away from the door. The hallway seemed like it was closing in on you. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe.

Natasha and Wanda weren’t what they seemed. It became evident that their sweet demeanor was a mask, concealing intentions and motives that were far from benevolent.

A decision loomed – you needed to get out of here.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel #scarlet witch #natasha romanov #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha x reader #wandanat x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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quilly72 · 8 days ago

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Maya sneakily crept into her friend botanical garden. She was over for a pool date but she couldn’t pry herself away from the foilage. Her friend had given her specific instructions not to go near the plants but that only made Maya want to go over there even more. So when her friend went inside. She crept out of the pool and rushed towards the plants.

They were distinctly different. The leaves purple and red. Their flowers blooming a vibrant yellow and deep purple as they seated in the wind. The wind chilling her wet body as she leaned in closer to the plants. She noticed a flower closed and … Pulsating.

It caught her eye as it seemed to breathe in and out. It’s vibrant purple seemingly growing darker as she approached. She outstretched her finger to touch the flower as it bent backwards. Seemingly coiling away from her. She pressed forward outstretching one finger as she brushed a petal.

The flower bursted open all at once as Maya shrieked having been scared by it. As she did a thick green slime splashed out of the plant covering her and her bathing suit as she coiled away. “Eeeewwww” maya flicked off as much as she could as tried scooping the thick syrup off of her. The flower coiling back up as it slinked backwards into the foilage. Maya continued scooping the gunk off as it began burning her skin. “Ow ow ow.”

Maya thinking quickly began brushing off more and more as she raced to the pool. She dove in and washed the rest off as she watched the rest of the green liquid fizz out into the chlorinated water. Seemingly disappearing. Maya clambered out of the pool. Struggling to breathe as she stared down at her chest. Vibrant red and scorching hot.

She heaved and dragged herself to a a hair as she rested on it. Grabbing a towel and covering herself as she regained her composure. Maya friends having come back from their assorted tasks as they all jumped in the pool. “Maya come on in!”

Maya peaked under the towel her chest still bright red and scorching hot. Surely her friend would know what she had done. “No… I’m good I just need a breather.”

Her friends shrugged it off as they continued swimming and splashing. Meanwhile Maya focused on breathing. Her body straining and aching. What was happening to her. Was she posoined an allergic reaction. Maya struggled with though until she heard a loud rubber sound. As if two balloons had been rubbed against each other.

She opened her eyes and two her fear saw two large mounds from over the towel. She raised the towel over her head as she peered in. Her boobs shaking and growing against one another as they were constrained in her bra. “Fuck no .. how did they”

Maya boobs protested as they grew another cup. Her cleavage swelling abover her swimsuit. As she guffawed at her boobs. Her thighs silently thickened. Her attention being pulled towards them as she felt her thing pull taught across her hips. Maya lay mouth open as she pondered how this could be happening.

“what’s happening… How is happening”

“this has to be a dream this can’t be real.”

Mayas body protested as she looked over the towel. Her feet inching ever so slowly across the chair. Eventually falling off the side. Maya wrinkled her toes to test if they were hers. Her toes crunching and scrunching in return. A tingling sensation spreading across her body.

“how am I gonna explain this.”

Meanwhile mayas friends noticed her talking to herself. “Maya are you okay”

Maya snapped her attention as her friends clambered towards her. “No I’m fine I’m just resting you guys can keep doing what you were no stay away don’t touch me.” Her friend pulled the towel off as Maya stood up bouncing away.

She sheepishly covered herself as they stared. “Maya did you get… Work done” one whispered meanwhile Ruth her botonist friend stared at her. “Did you touch my plants”

Maya dare not even look at she nodded slowly. “How much got on you” Ruth asked

Maya didn’t even have time to answer before her body ached and trembled. “That’s new” she sputtered.

Before long Maya shot off

Several feet being added all at once. A loud shriek escaping her body as she struggled for breath. Her body growing white in heat as she clutched her chest. Maya fell to her knees next to the pool as her friends flew backwards avoiding her. Her boobs breaking her bra Ina instant. Her onagies shredding off of her and into the crowd. They stared as she fell to all 4s

Maya couldn’t even manage a thought as her body spasmed and grew in heat. The fever paralyzing her as she spasmed again. Her body racing outwards. Her height doubling as she fell to her elbows. Her friends screaming and running as she pushed them into the pool. Her cleavage and arms spilling into the pool as she looked over it. “I’m sorry I can’t stop I don’t know what’s happening.

Maya lurched again as she fell into the pool herself. Her butt and hips smashing to either side pinning her in. Her boobs growing down into the water and filling the top. Maya felt several hands and bodies push against her body as she tried to lift herself up. Her friends struggling underneath her.

Her arms Shaked and grew weak. Maya gasped and sputtered.. too weak to even lift her body. A loud Yelp exclaiming another growth spurt as she pushed anyone still under the water further down. Her entire body filling the pool as water spilled out the side. Her cleavage looming down into it as she struggled to keep her own head above water

"no I don’t want to grow how do I stop. I can’t stop. Please someone anyone.”

Maya shrieked again. Her hips bursting the cement as she finally broke out her friends either having being crushed or drowned. “No this can’t be real. I didn’t mean to.” Maya spasmed and yelped.

She fell to the floor as her body racked with growth. She was being crushed by her own cleavage. She found it harder to breathe as she continued to fill the backyard. Her vision grew blurry as she stuffed for breath. “can’t. Breathe… Getting.. dark…. Help”

Her vision blacked as she blacked out.

#giantess growth #gtsgrowth #giantess

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quite-right-too · 1 year ago

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Piece of Art

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor sees your newest tattoo.

One year.

You had been travelling for an entire year.

Granted, time was subjective when you are in a literal time machine, but the point still stood. For your timeline, it had been three hundred and sixty-five days of adventures.

It seemed like the Doctor also knew. He was up before you — which was normal considering his “superior Time Lord biology” allowed him to have “a considerably altered circadian rhythm” and he didn’t need much sleep.

He was already up and running around the console by the time you were up, hair tousled like he had been running his hands through it. You admired him from the doorway as he checked the screens, putting on his glasses and analysing the data that was written in that beautiful circular language.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked with a smirk, arms crossed and leaning against the coral entrance to the console room. The Doctor jumped for a second as he was brought out of his focused state.

He gave you his signature Doctor grin and began to flip various switches. “Well,” he drawled, “I was thinking we could go to Dracea VII. They have a wonderful festival that comes around every ten years. The food is amazing.” Nimble fingers typed into his keyboard as he watched the Gallifreyan symbols change. “Just imagine it. The sky's the perfect shade of lavender while the various rivers that flow through the city are a shimmering gold. The grass is soft, almost like silk, and is a deep blue. The entire planet is gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the matching smile that spread across your face. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Alright!” he exclaimed, pulling a lever down hard as the TARDIS began to groan and lurch through the vortex. “Allons-y!”

A final thud upon landing threw your balance off. As you were sent stumbling, the Doctor reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling him into you as you both fell to the floor. He caught you, just as he always did. Your shared laughs filled the console room as you savoured the moment.

“Come on, up you go,” he grunted as he helped you to your feet. “Off on another adventure, us!” He grinned as he grabbed his overcoat and pulled it over his shoulders, adjusting the collar as he put it on. Once satisfied with how the garment sat, the Doctor held out his hand. His fingers wiggled in invitation. Chestnut eyes sparkled with the excitement of being able to spend time with you.

You loved it.

Fingers now laced, the door to the TARDIS was thrown open. Instead of the beautiful grass and rivers the Doctor had described, you were greeted with what appeared to be a sewer system. A very dirty sewer system.

As the two of you stepped out of the doors, the Doctor looked around with a grimace on his face. “What the-” He was quickly cut off with a low rumble.

A rumble that came from directly above you.

Although you both moved away from the now-noticed pipe above your heads, it was too late. The putrid smell of hot garbage assaulted you as you felt yourself get splashed with the brown mysterious liquid.

“Fucking dammit!” you yelled, lurching away.

The Doctor grabbed your hand, pulling you back into the TARDIS. Your shirt seemed to have gotten the worst of it. Not wanting to continue the contact of the sewage against your skin, you pulled your shirt off and discarded it on the floor of the console room.

“Alright, that was not where I intended to land. Sorry about that.” As the Doctor looked up at you, he froze. Standing before him was your shirtless form, bearing a semi-new tattoo.

The vibrant blue phone box that took up the space on the right side of your torso was beautifully surrounded with a galaxy. In the background, the Earth was able to be made out.

His feet moved of their own accord. Before either of you knew it, he was standing directly in front of you, staring down at your ribs. “When did you get this done?” the Doctor murmured quietly, his hand coming up to hover above the piece.

You moved your hand up to his, pressing his fingers against your skin. “You can touch, Doctor.” You smiled at how enraptured he was. “I got it the last time we were in America. Probably around three months ago? Did you know that Los Angeles has some pretty amazing tattoo artists?”

“This is brilliant.” The Doctor was in complete and utter awe. “Why haven’t you shown me this before?” He traced circular patterns over the tattoo with the pads of his fingers.

“I don’t know, just…” You trailed off, mind melting at the feel of the skin-to-skin contact. “Wanted to wait for the right time.”

“Well, I love it.” The Doctor wasn’t lying. His eyes were staring into your soul. He loved it.

“Good,” you breathed. He was so close to you — it made it so hard to think.

I love you.

The words caught in your throat.

#my fic #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor #doctor who #david tennant

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zafill · 4 months ago

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DEMON SLAYER PT.3

note: this is very short, im sorry but i have been really busy! school and stuff. but if yall want me to contiune, just say it in the comments!! Love you guys!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A few months had passed since that harrowing night, and life within the Demon Slayer Corps had shifted for (Y/N). Her hands, once so integral to her strength and skill as a Hashira, were now numb, the nerves damaged beyond repair by the boiling water she had poured over them. The once vibrant warrior was now a shadow of herself, burdened by the consequences of her actions.

The physical pain had subsided, replaced by a persistent numbness that served as a constant reminder of her despair. Yet, it was the emotional pain that weighed most heavily on her, a crushing sense of guilt and isolation that refused to let go. The Corps had granted her a leave of absence, a "break" they called it, though it felt more like an exile. She was no longer fighting on the front lines, no longer training with the others, no longer a part of the life she had once known.

The days blurred together in a monotonous routine of rest and reflection. She spent her time in solitude, avoiding the others as much as possible. The once proud and fierce Hashira now found herself in a place of deep introspection, haunted by the choices she had made and the impact they had on her future.

Despite the break, (Y/N) was not completely alone. Kagaya visited her often, his presence a constant reminder that she was still part of the Ubuyashiki family, despite her self-imposed isolation. His visits were quiet and gentle, filled with words of comfort and understanding, though they did little to ease the ache in her heart.

"You're still needed," Kagaya had told her during one of his visits. "The Corps is not complete without you, (Y/N). But you must heal, both physically and emotionally. Take this time to find your strength again, in whatever form it may take."

But even with his encouragement, (Y/N) struggled to find her place. Her hands, once so skilled with a sword, were now clumsy and unresponsive. The numbness made it impossible to feel the hilt of a blade, to grasp it with the strength and precision that had once defined her as a Hashira. The thought of returning to the battlefield seemed impossible, a dream that had been shattered the moment she had let that boiling water sear her skin.

Dinner with the Ubuyashiki family had become an event filled with a mixture of comfort and quiet tension for (Y/N). The warmth of being surrounded by those who cared for her was undeniable, but it was also a painful reminder of the role she could no longer fulfill. The once skilled and formidable warrior now felt awkward and out of place, her hands betraying her in even the simplest of tasks.

As they sat around the table, the younger siblings chatted cheerfully, their innocent laughter a soothing balm to the otherwise heavy atmosphere. Kagaya and Amane exchanged gentle smiles, their presence a calming influence over the household. Despite the love and acceptance that filled the room, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that gnawed at her.

“Big sister,” her younger brothers piped up, his voice full of trust and affection, “can you fill my cup with water, please?”

(Y/N) nodded, forcing a smile as she reached for the jug. The simple request should have been easy to fulfill, something she had done countless times before without a second thought. But as she wrapped her numb fingers around the handle, the weight of the jug felt foreign and unstable in her grip.

She tried to pour the water, her movements careful and deliberate, but her hands trembled uncontrollably. The numbness made it impossible to gauge the weight properly or to feel the coolness of the water against her skin. The liquid splashed over the rim of the cup, spilling across the table and onto her brother’s lap.

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone at the table froze, watching the water pool and drip off the edge. (Y/N)’s heart sank, a wave of embarrassment and frustration crashing over her. She quickly withdrew her hands, staring at them with a mix of anger and despair.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice shaky as she struggled to maintain her composure. “I didn’t mean to…”

But before she could finish, her younger brother reached out, grabbing her hand with his small, warm fingers. “It’s okay, big sister,” he said with a reassuring smile. “It was just an accident. Don’t worry about it.”

His words were meant to comfort, but they only deepened the ache in her chest. (Y/N) felt the weight of her failure even more acutely in that moment—her inability to perform even the simplest tasks, the loss of the strength and control she had once taken for granted.

Kagaya, who had been quietly observing the exchange, reached over and gently placed his hand on hers. His touch was calm, his expression filled with understanding. “(Y/N), it’s alright,” he said softly. (Y/N) forced a smile and nodded in response to Kagaya’s comforting words, but the tightness in her chest didn’t ease.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on her, their concern like a heavy cloak she couldn’t shake off.

“I… I think I need some air,” she said, excusing herself from the table. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Without waiting for a response, she stood and quietly slipped out of the room, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth she had just left behind. She walked aimlessly at first, letting the breeze wash over her as she tried to clear her mind. Her feet eventually led her to a familiar path, one that wound its way through the trees to the training grounds where she had once spent countless hours honing her skills.

The sight of the open space brought a flood of memories, both comforting and painful. She remembered the days when her body moved with precision and strength, every swing of her blade confident and powerful. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now, she stood on the same ground, but everything felt different.

Drawn by a deep, almost desperate need to reconnect with that part of herself, (Y/N) approached the weapon rack where a row of bamboo practice swords stood. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out and grasping one of the swords. The wood was smooth and familiar in her grip, but the connection she once felt was gone. Her hands, still numb and weak, struggled to hold it properly.

Stepping into the center of the training area, (Y/N) assumed a basic stance, her feet planted firmly on the ground. She tried to recall the movements that had once come so easily, but as she swung the sword, it felt clumsy and uncoordinated. The blade sliced through the air with none of the force or precision she had once commanded.

Frustration surged within her as she tried again, and again, each attempt more desperate than the last. But no matter how hard she tried, the sword wouldn’t obey her. Her muscles ached from the effort, and the numbness in her hands made it impossible to maintain a proper grip. The bamboo sword seemed to mock her, refusing to yield even the slightest bit of damage to the air around her.

Panting from the exertion, (Y/N) finally stopped, her shoulders slumping in defeat. The sword hung limply at her side as she stared at the ground, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The realization that she was no longer the warrior she once was hit her with brutal clarity. As (Y/N) stood there, panting and defeated, she felt a familiar presence approaching. The sound of footsteps on the gravel was unmistakable, and when she looked up, she saw Kyojuro Rengoku standing at the edge of the training grounds, his usual bright smile replaced with a concerned frown.

"(Y/N)," Rengoku called out gently, taking a few cautious steps toward her. "I saw you leave the house. Are you alright?"

She stiffened at his words, her anger flaring up before she could control it. The last thing she wanted was pity, especially from someone like Rengoku, who always seemed so strong, so unbreakable. His concern felt like salt in the wound, a reminder of everything she had lost.

"I'm fine," she snapped, her voice harsher than she intended. "I don't need you or anyone else checking up on me. Just leave me alone."

Rengoku halted, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I'm not here to judge you or to pity you, (Y/N). I just—"

"I said leave me alone!" she interrupted, her tone edged with bitterness. The anger bubbling up inside her was uncontrollable, born from the frustration of her helplessness and the fear that she was truly lost. "You think you understand, Rengoku? You don't. None of you do. You've all got your strength, your purpose. I have nothing!"

Rengoku's expression softened, but the sadness in his eyes only fueled her anger further. She couldn't stand the way he was looking at her, like she was some fragile thing in need of protection. It was a far cry from the respect she had once commanded as a fellow Hashira.

"You're wrong," Rengoku said calmly, though his voice held a firm resolve. "You are more than your sword, (Y/N). You’re still needed, still valued. You don’t have to carry this burden alone."

But (Y/N) couldn't hear him. Her mind was too clouded with pain and resentment. "Stop pretending like you care!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "You're just like the others. You see me as a failure, as someone who doesn’t belong anymore. I’m just a burden to all of you!"

Rengoku's eyes widened, and he took a step closer, but she recoiled, backing away from him as if his presence alone was too much to bear. "You don’t know what it’s like," she continued, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions. "To lose everything that ever mattered, to be left with nothing but scars and broken dreams."

Rengoku remained silent, his face a mix of sorrow and understanding. He didn't argue or try to refute her words. Instead, he simply stood there, offering his presence as a silent support, but to (Y/N), it felt like another reminder of how far she had fallen.

"I don't need you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don’t need any of you." Before she could take another step back, Rengoku moved swiftly and without hesitation, wrapping his strong arms around (Y/N). The warmth of his embrace was unexpected, and for a moment, she froze, stunned by the sudden contact. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek, a stark contrast to the storm raging within her.

“I’m here, (Y/N),” Rengoku whispered, his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The walls she had built around herself, brick by brick, began to crumble. All the pain, anger, and fear she had kept buried deep within her erupted to the surface. The numbness in her hands, the frustration of her helplessness, the overwhelming sense of loss—it all came crashing down like a tidal wave.

Before she could stop herself, she broke down, her body trembling as the sobs she had tried so hard to suppress finally escaped her. She clung to Rengoku, her fingers gripping the fabric of his haori as if he were the only thing keeping her from drowning in her sorrow.

Tears streamed down her face, soaking into Rengoku’s shoulder as he held her tightly, offering the support she had so desperately needed but had been too afraid to ask for. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer empty words of comfort. He simply held her, letting her release all the pain she had been carrying for so long.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, (Y/N) allowed herself to be vulnerable, to let someone else shoulder the weight of her grief. And in Rengoku’s arms, she found a small glimmer of solace amidst the darkness that had consumed her.

Rengoku continued to hold her, his embrace unwavering as she sobbed into his shoulder. His hands moved gently, one softly patting her back in a rhythmic, soothing motion, while the other cradled the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair with a tenderness that spoke louder than any words ever could.

He understood that she needed this moment to let go, to release the pent-up anguish that had been tearing her apart from the inside. There was no rush, no urgency to pull away or to speak. Rengoku knew that sometimes, the most profound comfort came from simply being present, from offering silent support in the face of overwhelming pain.

As (Y/N) continued to cry, her sobs gradually began to quiet, her body still trembling but slowly calming under the steady reassurance of his touch. Rengoku didn’t move, didn’t break the embrace, allowing her to take all the time she needed to find her way back from the edge of despair. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @imagineshazamlokimight @mlobski @nousija @i-hate-most-insects @fatkish @thefantasticlemon

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 1 year ago

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Diluc Ragnvindr - "Vibrant Flavors"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which a certain winery owner spends a little bit of long overdue quality time with his lover, but after a small mishap causes it to become a lot more sensual than he originally intended it to be. Or; In which Diluc Ragnvindr finds that his favorite sparkling grape juice seems to taste better when licked off your skin rather than drunk from some glass.

Warnings -> Suggestive, foreplay, nipple sucking, a bit of oral fixation, kinda food play (can drinks be used for food play?)

🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇

"It really has been a while, hasn't it, my love? I missed this— missed you."

Diluc sighs against your lips, his forehead pressed against your own as he holds you close.

Ruby red eyes look lovingly into your own; you can feel the small smile that blooms onto his lips as he huffs softly from his nose. The strong arm around you tightens; the other off to the side, holding a glass of his favorite beverage. He joins your lips with his once again; kissing you soft and sweet as his hand moves from your lower back to your hip.

You take a step back; hand reaching out behind you to feel for the duvet covered mattress of your shared bed. Diluc follows you as you move; lips chasing yours as he refuses to part from you. After being away from you for so long he's become so desperately needy for your touch and he's no longer afraid to show you that now that you both are hidden in the low light of your bedroom.

Finding the bed; you unceremoniously plop yourself on it causing the redhead to stumble and—

SPLASH

—accidentally spill his grape juice onto your chest and the area surrounding that. A shaky involuntary gasp is ripped out of you as you feel the chilled liquid soak into your shirt on contact; the fabric slowly becoming translucent.

"Oh... D‐Dandelion, I'm so sorry. I— ah..."

Diluc frantically apologizes as his eyes fall from your face and onto your soaked chest; his words trailing off as his gaze zeros in on peaks of your quickly hardening buds.

He audibly swallows as his eyes become half lidded; many unholy thoughts that would make even the stone cold nun Rosaria blush flooded his mind. There were so many things that he wanted to do to you at that moment but he reluctantly settled on just one of them.

"Let's... get you cleaned up..."

The vermillion haired mumbles as he leans over you before placing a gentle but hungry kiss on your lips.

You feel one of his large hands begin to slowly unbutton your shirt. Though it seems more like he's fidgeting with the buttons rather than undoing them with just how slow his fingers are moving. He moves his head down to your chest; leaving you unable to figure out what he's doing as his silky crimson lochs obstruct your view. Then suddenly—

"O‐oh! Diluc!"

—a loud mewl was ripped from the back of your throat and your back arches up off if the dampened duvet as a hard suck was delivered to your right nipple, courtesy of your eager husband.

A quiet groan rumbled from the back of his throat; relishing in the cute little moans that you made. Fuck— you were just so enticing; the feeling those perky buds of yours on his toungue drove him absolutely wild. His soft lips sucked strongly; drawing out the sweet juice that was held in the fabric over your now swollen nipple one more time before he detached himself. Leaving a thin trail a saliva behind before it broke when he got a certain distance away.

"Dandelion~—"

Diluc purred, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he looked deeply into your eyes; his own thickly clouded with lust.

"—I hope you'll bear with me just a little longer. You'll let me indulge myself just this once, won't you?"

🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇•♡•🍇

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

@aetheromi, @lostsomewhereinthegarden

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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blueinkphantom · 1 month ago

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Deeper Down

While Dream was inside the prison, the world had expanded. Now, weeks after breaking out and staying with Techno, he discovers some of the expansion and even Techno finds something new.

Rivals duo gift exchange present for @sunny-child-of-the-sky, hope you enjoy!

Thank you, @rivalsduogiftexchange, for hosting. And happy holidays to everyone!

Water was dripping down from the ceiling. It was a new sight to some extent. New in this context with this liquid. An unknown purple liquid dropping from obsidian is familiar. A translucent one from stone less so.

There were many times where he went mining. Be it at the start with his friends as they began making their home or later as he gathered resources late into the night. None of the caves he remembered had these sharp pointy stones. Nor did they have this faint glowing light in the distance.

Despite his anxieties, one look towards Techno made him relax. The piglin regarded the surroundings with a relaxed smile on his face as he went further ahead.

Swallowing the spit that had started collecting, he tried to copy Techno and relax a bit as he sped up. They were far enough down that even if someone followed them, they would have noticed by now or it would take them a good while to actually reach them.

It should be fine. It will be fine.

And then he saw where the light came from. Green. A lot of softer greens hanging from the roof of the cave in the form of vines. Golden glowing berries hung on the vines, giving it all a soft look. More of the grass colour was on the ground, covering the floor and sprouting little plants that reached to about his hips. It got broken up here and there by clay and water. Some of the plants carried vibrant pink flowers. It was beautiful in all meanings of the word.

Dream didn't even notice how mesmerised he was till he hit something soft but sturdy and his companion let out a chuckle. "Something caught your attention?"

"What is this?" Dream asked, eyes still on the surroundings instead of on Techno.

"This is a lush cave. Beautiful, ain't it?"

The agreement was left unsaid, obvious alone in the awe that Dream's eyes held.

A splash sounded from one of the more distant pools of water. While both of them perked up on it, Techno was the first to get closer. "Come here. There's something I think you might like."

Dream stepped closer, tail swishing behind him as his view of the pool got bigger and bigger. Once he got near enough, he bent down a bit, curious at the sight of an unfamiliar mob.

"Axolotls. The cutest little predator," the piglin whispered from next to him, quieter as if to not disturb the tiny creature. "Home here in the lush caves and transportable in buckets."

Sinking down to his knees, the shifter took a closer look. Green glowing eyes were nearly fixated on the pale pink skin that reminded him of the person next to him. The animal noticed him and looked up a bit.

"Hey," Dream muttered as he lowered one hand closer to it. It swam closer to it. Slowly brushing along his hand which then turned to pet it a bit. A faint chirp sounded from it as it nuzzled his hand. Another one in pale blue and pink colours plopped into the water and also neared him. Its skin looked an awful lot like the snowy landscape he had been living in since he got out of prison.

"Seems like they like you. Wanna take ‘em with us?" A bucket was held out to him. He looked back and forth from the axolotls to the bucket before shaking his head.

"Better not." It would just end up dead again. If not by someone using it against him then probably by his inability to care for it. He knew nothing about these animals. He might consider it after he learned a bit about them but even then. He doesn't want them to get hurt just cause they are his pets. Just cause he made the mistake of growing attached and showing it.

"Suit yourself. I've been working on an aquarium for a bit. Just needed to find of 'em again." Pink hooves filled the bucket with water before guiding the axolotl inside, doing the same with the second one. It looked fitting. Two pinks so similar and yet so different with one being from the Nether and one finding its home in water. Adding a drop of whitish-blue to it

Backing out of his kneeling position, Dream glanced once more over this section of the cave before following Techno once more.

They continued on further down, encountering several other more familiar mobs on the way. None were a problem to deal with. Even if Dream's iron left leg was sometimes still rubbing uncomfortably against the stump.

More ores were found as well. Iron and gold mostly but also some diamonds.

He missed this. Ventures out into the mines to explore and gather resources, side by side with someone else who didn't aim to stick a sword into you. A way to spend time together, prepare for possible future problems, collect material for gifts and for Dream specifically, see how much progress he made since the prison break. Endurance, strength and speed all have improved. His balance with the new prosthetic had also gotten better.

Once they reached a dead end in their path they started mining down the wall in front of them with Techno leading the front and Dream working on making the path wider in case they left this way too. They kept this rhythm going until another cave opened up and by the first look, it was big too. Not that Techno could make out much based on his squinting.

With night vision to his advantage, Dream went further along first, taking note of a structure made from the same stone the cave was, just formatted into bricks and other forms. Here and there a soul lantern lit it up but with the darkness of the area, it hardly made a difference.

"This is... new." Techno noted, looking at the unfamiliar surroundings just as Dream did.

Their footsteps echoed despite the vastness. Then they heard a tick or something. Something that sounded similar to a creature chirping in low tones. It was immediately followed by a screech. Both stopped. This was loud enough that many blocks away it could still be heard, potentially even through the walls. They suspected a trap. Expected something or someone to pop out from somewhere and go for the kill. But as they waited and waited, nothing showed up.

More careful of the sound he made now, Dream sneaked closer to where he heard both.

The floor changed from dark greys to an even darker teal with spots of brighter bits that seemed to glow in and out. Then there were tentacles? It looked like tentacles, wiggling around in a pack of four. At the same time as he heard someone drink a potion behind him, the tentacles glowed and emitted that same sound as before. Further away from it came the screech. with glowing circles disappearing into the air.

It was strange. New. Dream stepped closer to the screecher. A similar-looking block but instead of four tentacles. it looked like it had four bones going up at the corners. Inside swam two teal-coloured souls in circles, reminding him of the pattern that one pool in Kinoko Kingdom had.

Curious, he started to reach with one hand inside it only to have it gripped by another and pulled away.

"Just cause it's not lava, doesn't mean you should just stick your hand in it," Techno whispered close to his ear, likely to avoid another screech. "I doubt you know what it might do and I'd prefer not to find out unless we are prepared for anything."

"Fine." Dream gave in. Techno let go and they continued with slow and quiet steps, both fascinated by the surroundings.

There was a chest in one of the structures but no doubt would it cause another screech so they left it for now.

Something like a hallway greeted them next. Stretching for a good while in both directions. They went up the steps to find wool, surprisingly enough. Not even carpet but completely wool on the floor. It was soft and as both quickly realised it was quieting their steps.

An idea popped into Dream's head on how they could still reach what was inside the chests. And by the looks of it, Techno realised as well.

"Let's first check this place out some more. Just to make sure no one is here." Dream nodded.

More darker stone, deep slate as Techno once picked up, was following as well as the strange alien patches of what Dream guessed, for now, was some kind of plant. A plant that could detect sounds and let out screeches.

Maybe he could sneak some into his inventory later to bring to Punz.

Maybe he could come back here with Punz at some point. Or maybe even Phil. This looked like something Phil would be interested in. Heck, maybe he even knows something about that.

At some point, their path dissolves. Ruins of the rest of the hallway scattered across the floor with some noticeable dark oak planks and what looked like basalt that piqued Dream's curiosity again.

Nothing in comparison to the blue flames beneath a giant frame that he spotted in the distance though. He stopped where he stood and turned to his companion. "Techno, look." The piglin did, following where Dream was pointing to.

"Huh. You know. This place is starting to look more and more like the old place of a ritual. Crumbled in structures. A strange unknown something that looks almost like it infected the place. And now this. Do you think they did sacrifices? Maybe they're another eggpire just in blue."

"What? A blue eggpire?" Dream looked around again. He didn't know much about the eggpire. It seemed to get worse after he was locked inside. Punz and Techno explained a good chunk of what had gone on in that area but with one of them having been somewhat mind-controlled and the other one being rather clueless most of the time on what is going on, it wasn't as detailed as Dream might have preferred.

"Exactly. Exactly. Hey, maybe they had a rivalry. The red cult versus the blue one. Who will win? An ongoing rivalry for centuries until red gained the upper hand."

"And each one's leader once had a kid that fell in love with the other." Dream joked with him.

"Romeo and Juliet-style. Just hopefully with more impulse control. Fanfic material right there, I gotta say."

"Oh my god." They headed further along towards what looked like another hallway, partly crumbled and with arches over the floor and candles on the side. Burning candles. Though it didn’t look like they could melt.

Up another flight of stairs and they reached the giant frame with the soul fire beneath it. More of these tentacle things were there and even more candles.

His leg once hit too loudly on the floor and made an echo of clicks start. A light from above quickly caught his eye as he spotted a redstone lamp that went out a second later.

So plants that can give off a redstone signal. Sam would like this-

Sam. Could this be a trap built by him? It could be but also if he knew of sound-detecting redstone-signal-emitting plants, he would have already used them in the prison. Not only now.

More time was spent exploring. Some of the buildings repeated with differences in details and how much they had already started wasting away. At some point, they had started collecting the wool and covered the screecher and the tentacles in it. Or rather tendrils as Techno had corrected him.

"Tendrils are part of a plant. Tentacles are like those things on the squids, part of an animal."

At some point, they had decided to separate for a small while. With no threat so far spotted, not even mobs, they deemed it safe enough for each to be alone for a bit.

It was just Dream's luck that he headed in the direction where this area seemed to stop and mobs did spawn. Specifically skeletons and zombies. Usually not a huge threat but the screecher still made him uneasy so he tried to keep quiet. Something the mobs didn't try.

A zombie stumbled too far down. Screech.

A skeleton shot an arrow right next to one of those tendril things. Screech.

But unlike before, it didn't stay at the screech and silence after. Instead, the floor started rumbling as if someone had lit TNT beneath it. A deep groan seemed to echo endlessly. His vision shrunk. Darkness ebbed in right as he spotted something crawling out of the ground from near where the last screech was.

Pounding. A heartbeat so loud he could hear it clear as day but he wasn't sure if it was his own or the creature's that seemed to glow out of its chest in beat with the thumping. Or rather souls. Those were souls. Souls in the middle of an open ribcage inside of a giant creature the same colour as whatever had spread in this place.

Frozen, he stared as the creature walked towards the skeleton. More groans echoed as tendrils on the side of its head were somewhat wiggling. There seemed to be no eyes. Not that they would help much in this darkness. The creature stumbled along until it was next to the skeleton, the two arms were raised before rushing down, the skeleton instantly crumbling.

Without removing his gaze from it, he carefully stepped away. Maybe he could create enough distance to it that it won’t realise he’s there. There are still some mobs its focus was pulled to.

He succeeded with it surprisingly. Once the mobs were gone, it only took a short while for the giant to also retreat. Somehow it crawls back underground, presumably till another screecher alarms it.

Hopefully, Techno has no-

He jumped back when something brushed his shoulder, only to realise that it was the man in question. Luckily the floor was wool and he had long since been trained to not make any sounds even if it would have been reflex.

“You alright?”

Dream nodded, not trusting his voice to be quiet enough. He looked for the nearest way out and pointed with his head to it, looking at Techno in what hopefully came across as the right message.

“You wanna get out? Sure. After whatever you just summoned, probably the safest option. Well, then it’s goodbye to the creepy cult site.”

The way out was luckily smooth. No screechers or tendrils were near as blocks were placed and destroyed. They even managed to come across a section of the cave they were in before which sped things up. A small bit. Before they got lost again.

Moonlight shone down on them as they finally exited the cave system.

Deciding to take a break before they headed back, they started a small campfire with freshly gathered wood while they also made a bit of a barricade so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Techno placed some meats on one of the logs on the campfire. “Having any hunger yet?” Dream wasn’t sure and as if his friend could already read his mind, he settled on placing a few more meats. “I’d say we chill here till the sun rises. Can’t take too long based on where the moon is.”

At that, he looked up and spotted said object rather quickly thanks to its current position in the middle of the sky.

“What was that giant thing?” Dream asked after a bit more silence as the meat cooked.

“The thing that you summoned?”

“I didn’t summon it! Some zombies and skeletons wouldn’t stop making noise.”

“Sure, sure. And these skeletons and zombies were also the reason it didn’t attack you?” Techno raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face.

“Yes! Because I was being quiet and sneaking away while they continued making noise.”

“Mhm. Sure. I believe you. Just like your house that is totally 100% real.”

“Oh my god.” The exasperated tone devolved into a few chuckles all while Techno grinned before looking as if he just remembered something.

“Speaking of mobs, how much inventory space do you have left?”

“What does one have to do with the other?”

“I'm getting to it, man.”

“Uhm. About five slots. Why?”

“Pog. Would you mind hanging onto the two axolotls? My inventory’s kinda full and I could use a few empty slots.”

Dream squinted at him. “Sure.”

“Perfect. Here ya go.” The two buckets got handed over to him. Both axolotls idly swam in their temporary home until they got home.

“Also, all my creativity with name-giving has been sucked dry by my hound army and chat is not being helpful right now. You wouldn’t happen to have any ideas on what to name ‘em, would ya?”

The suspicion aimed at the piglin and possible hidden goals from this didn’t lower. Deciding it’s best to just play along, however, he looked back down at the two that didn’t seem disturbed by his presence.

“Coral,” he uttered, petting along the pink axolotl’s surface. “and Spectre.” The cyan axolotl bumped into the other before swimming along his hand. Dream pet the other with his left hand to prevent a potential fight while a chuckle left him.

“Coral and Spectre,” Techno repeated the names while looking at the scene. “Maybe chat would have had better name ideas.”

“EY!”

#inkphantom.writing #dreblr #c!dream #c!techno #rivals duo #rivalsblr #dsmp #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #dsmpblr #rivalsduoexchange24

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seneon · 3 months ago

Text

( IN THE ) GARDEN OF SINNERS .𖥔 ݁

O3. QUIET ROMANCE.

ᝰ SYNOPSIS . . . peace is such a foreign word. yet here they are, having such peace that fate did not grant them up until now. may they revel in each other's ecstasy of solace.

ᝰ CONTENTS . . . warnings of blood, a minor gore descriptions, and murder. also minor religious themes ( idea of sins ) wc of 1300+ series masterlist.

THE HIGH PRIESTS OF ASAKUSA TASKED YOU WITH A MISSION. it is almost too impossible to miss or ward off this mission, even if the words were simply registered in your ears. the ropes cannot be cut now, with such significant matters.

their heads hung and bowed low until they were almost touching the ground. you swore at one point, they did in fact touched their foreheads against the expensive tatami mat woven by the best weaver ever known in existence.

“lady y/n, we ask that you pour your full attention to this case. the subject— our man, evil has consumed him whole. he must be eliminated with your holy and pure sword from heaven.”

head priest, whatever his name may seem to be to you, not that it would matter at all, he sought your assistance. the man’s words were no lies, the aura around him doesn't change with its colours and his intentions. even when you shut your eyes to study his soul with your blessed vision, he speaks of the truth.

“i will bring him peace,” you finally said and opened your eyelids. then, gave the priests a nod where they repeatedly bowed in your presence as if you were a god they worship.

the hilt of your sword you gripped with the tip of your blade that gazed upon the blindfolded man. his body covered in nothing but the signs of a fresh rotting corpse. his fingertips were stained with the attempts of clawing at another soul while bodily liquid flows from the corner of his mouth.

he was no longer human.

it aches you at the sight of a human that has fallen victim to this evil curse. and to think that your blade is the only cure and the only ending that exists in the midst of all this chaos, your sins pile up like nothing but those rotting corpses that you have brought an end to.

was it paradise that they reside in after their death? or was it darkness that they belong to?

is your blade truly as mighty as the world thinks it is?

the sorrowful moan that the man let out cut through your roaring ocean of thoughts before you let out a sigh so soft it was like an apology to the unfortunate soul.

with one quick swing, the head falls, and blood paints your canvas of a face the hues of fresh vibrant red. soon, the body belonging to the head falls along with a thud that crushed your heart as it has been for the last decades.

your innocently sinful soul is so familiar with the aftermath of a decapitated body that the magic in your blade does nothing to comfort your life that temporarily leaves your gaze.

another swing and the blood of your blade is wiped clean with the help of fused energies licking away at the remaining sparkles of wine red.

“bury him accordingly, he has received his freedom,” you said before sheathing your blade fused with magic and your next steps are towards the garden where your soul first got lost.

a corpse stares up at the looming figure of touya. its eyes that gazed through all the heaviness that the assassin carries. the eyes that were once so beautiful pierced through the lifeless body that laid on the ground, looking horrid and morbid just like touya's lust for blood.

mouth agape, the mouth belonging to the man he killed once begged touya not to use him as a sacrifice just to live. his turquoise eyes watched when a fly no different from him hovers around the lips of the corpse. it found a solace at the dead man's skin, just as touya has when his blade cut through where blood spewed out.

the soil cries in agony at the burning pain of the dead man's blood splashed onto it and also the face of the todoroki.

had he not washed his blade off in a lake a few days ago, the souls filled with wrath would continue to cling onto him and comfort the newest soul in fury.

touya feels a muscle snap in his body. every time his lust consumes his consciousness, a part of him ceases to exist. every day, he slowly dies in his body as a sickening punishment given to him.

he has nowhere else to go but to leave the disheveled corpse as it is before his feet carry him to a certain garden where it would eat away at the burden of his new murder.

two eyes find a reason, a haven, to seek comfort in. comfort … such a foreign word for both souls yet they yearn for it regardless of the cause and favour given.

but to see the bloodstained kimono that each of them wore was somewhat comforting. it tells each other that they are somewhat connected by the mere stains of the dead, both done for the good and for the bad. two worlds, two causes, and two killers.

for what reason should they raise their energies and blades against each other where they know regardless of the reason, one dies. there is nothing but a connection that ties them together — a bond created by fate.

touya takes every given opportunity to extend his hands towards you, holding out a cloth that seems to be untouched by the blood of the dead. he looks into your eyes as he speaks.

“you have some dirt on your face. take my cloth and wipe it.”

when you hesitate in your next move, he presses the cloth against your skin, feeling your warmth seeping through the thin layer of cloth before your own fingers are brought up to rest on his.

such warm fingers he harbours despite all the cold killings that he has committed.

his fingers released once he knew you had a firm hold against the cloth. you should not be touching him, he should not let you touch him. touya todoroki is a cursed soul from young, you might be cursed too if you touched him.

“thank you. your fingers are quite warm, dabi.” the corner of your lips curved into a little smile and your eyes crinkled at the corner. there is a pinch of awkwardness that lingers around in the air. but that does not go through touya's mind.

all because he takes note of how your facial muscles curve here and there to formulate a rather peculiar sight that bears a twist in his lower abdomen. he is not quite sure how to react but to tilt his head to the sight like a curious creature.

you took notice of his tilted head and mirrored his actions to tilt your own head as well. “is something the matter?”

“your smile is utterly disgusting.” touya blurts out almost immediately. “it makes my chest heavy and my heart racing. it's a bad reaction to from subject. i’m gonna kill you now.”

“ah! no, wait wait wait!” your exclamation stops the man from unsheathing his blade. touya notices your smile faltering as he feels a stab that disappoints him.

“i mean you no harm. please, not tonight.”

the whispers of your last sentence break the ice that came along when you two met in the garden. it held so many unspoken words and meanings. it sounded so broken that it made touya feel almost sorry for you. almost.

he does not feel a thing. no, nothing but lust for blood is all he feels. yet as you begin to move your lips in a manner of speaking about your bloodstained cheeks where you slowly wiped with his fabric, he takes note of how sorrowful your soul is. it cries to him, reaching out a hand to cling onto his monster of a soul.

for some odd reason, the beast that feasts on the fears and cries of others grasps your broken one. it was just the fingertips that they laced for a moment before touya watches a weird layer of solid aura melting around you.

you are weeping.

and the original soul that lives within heartless assassin touya todoroki comes into the story to embrace you in the beginning of a quiet and blossoming romance.

ᝰ TAGS . . . @w1nterelle @hyoismbbg @angeliicheartt @kyoghurts @heartkaji @skiiyoomin @choccorin @phtmmsqrde @harleys1nhawaii @va-3

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taruchinator · 7 months ago

Text

🌳 General Audiences

🌳 1k Words

🌳 For the @bycmykae Light Screen Pokémon Zine!

“Are you sure you want me to help you?”

“For the last time—yes! Now quit whining and pass me the soap!”

The Paldean trainer had been meaning to give his team a well earned wash for some time now. And no one needed this deluxe treatment more than dear old Ogerpon. After years of living alone in the caves of Kitakami, there was definitely much to be desired for her personal hygiene.

So who better to enlist the help of than his best (cutest) friend in the whole world?

Greetings everyone, Alice here! ^^

This zine's fic was meant to focus on color, which is obviously something difficult to depict in written media like this 😅 Still, I went with “Green”, and also good old fashioned candyappleshipping (gotta love shipping the MC with Kieran 💖)

Hope you guys enjoy!

“Are you sure you want me to help you?”

“For the last time—yes! Now quit whining and pass me the soap!”

It had just been a week since summer vacation started in Blueberry Academy.

Director Clavell called Florian to let him know he was free to stay longer if he so desired; surely one of the many perks of being a Paldean Champion was the fact he didn't have to worry about plane tickets or staying accommodations.

Which left the brunet with a couple of options—he could get a head start in his school work, maybe go back to Kitakami and finish the Pokédex Professor Jacq had been pestering him about, heck, he could just kick back and relax until classes started again.

But there was one task in particular he'd been putting off for some time now.

“I'm just saying I'm not the best at Pokémon care…” Kieran was rummaging through Florian's basket with a huff, but not really in protest. After finding the desired item, he handed it over while averting his gaze to the ground. “Besides, I dunno if Ogerpon would feel comfortable if I was here.”

After accepting the bottle of liquid soap handed his way, the brunet frowned in slight annoyance at his companion's comment. “Kiki, you've apologized like a thousand times and we've both forgiven you by now. She still adores you, otherwise she wouldn't even come out of her ball!”

Almost to prove his point, the Grass-Type Pokémon the duo had ignored during their conversation jumped from her seat in an inflatable pool, splashing away happily while calling in Kieran's direction. Florian couldn't contain a giggle from escaping his lips as he handed the boy a Mareep shaped sponge. “So could you please give her a scrub while I handle the masks?”

Kieran stood still for a moment, trying to psyche himself up no doubt, until eventually giving in and dipping the sponge in the soapy water.

The Paldean trainer had been meaning to give his team a well earned wash for some time now. Everything from the trip to Blueberry Academy to their battle against Terapagos in Area Zero had taken a toll, and didn't necessarily help in putting this mundane task at the top of his priority list. So after finally getting the vacation he deserved, he figured a little bath time with his Pokémon in the Terrarium wasn't a bad idea.

And no one needed this deluxe treatment more than dear old Ogerpon.

After years of living alone in the caves of Kitakami, there was definitely much to be desired for her personal hygiene. Vibrant pastel colors were obscured by patches of dirt, leaving her leafy green appearance hidden to most people. This also included her signature masks, which was what brought the Pokémon more sadness than anything else—they were her prized possessions, after all.

So Florian took it upon himself to ask Ms. Briar for tips on how to best care for these ancient relics. He figured if anyone would have good insight on how to handle something like this carefully, it would be her. Thankfully it seemed that some simple dish soap would do just fine.

The brunet scrubbed the grime off the Teal Mask gently with his fingers, making sure to get in between the crevices and small spots that a regular sponge couldn't reach. With a few splashes of water and wipes of his cloth, the emerald shine that the mask was known for began to come through once more, bringing a smile to the boy's lips. He couldn't wait to see the look on the Legendary Pokémon’s face when she saw-

“O-Ogerpon, wait! You aren't dry yet!”

Kieran's squeaks of protest brought Florian back to reality, making him turn just in time to witness one of the most adorable displays he'd ever seen.

Both boy and Pokémon were drenched from head to toe, the prior most definitely having been pulled into the water at some point by the sneaky little Grass-Type. Kieran was doing his darn best to keep the little creature from causing more of a havoc than she already had, but the attempt was futile.

Laughter bubbled inside and quickly bursted out of the Paldean Champion’s lips at the sight. His friend, who could only be described as looking like a wet cat at this point, had his cheeks redden significantly as he puffed in embarrassment. Truly adorable. “F-Flor, cut it out!”

“I-I'm sorry! You two are just too cute!” Florian tried to regain his composure while wiping the tears out of the corner of his eyes. After getting a closer look, he was rather impressed—Ogerpon's fur was sparkling clean, almost comparable to dew on grass in the early morning. Her signature pastel green color was much more prominent than it was before, and the Pokémon seemed to be as happy as ever because of it. Florian sent a smirk in Kieran's direction. “Not good at Pokémon care, huh?”

Caught off guard by the sudden compliment, the shorter boy faced away as he started squeezing the excess water out of his hair, a blush still adorning his features. “I-I mean, I'm used to giving them food and evolution items and stuff… never really thought of baths whenever I was visiting home…”

“Well I'd say you're a natural! Our little girl looks so much happier~”

“W-What do you mean by ‘our’, you idiot?!”

“We caught her together so that means we share custody!”

“What are you even saying?!”

Florian let out another cackle at seeing the other get more and more flustered, especially with Ogerpon joining in on the fun while trying to drag Kieran back into the water for another splash session.

Maybe Director Clavell was right.

One could find their greatest treasure even in the strangest of places.

✦𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬!✦

#my stories #pokemon #candyappleshipping #florian x kieran

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glitterp0prhaps0dy · 8 months ago

Text

The Calm

It was a rare phenomenon in Volcano Rock City, where the usual dry, scorching heat had given way to an unexpected downpour. The rock trolls, unaccustomed to such weather, initially rejoiced in the refreshing rain that cleansed their city of its perpetual layer of dust and ash. However, as the day wore on, the gentle rain transformed into a fierce storm, with thunder rumbling overhead and lightning splitting the darkened sky.

Barb and Floyd stood side by side at the window, captivated by the unusual sight. Floyd occasionally adjusted his crutches, trying to find a comfortable stance. Their faces were pressed close to the glass, eyes wide with amazement as they watched the rain relentlessly pound against the windowpane, cascading in rivulets down the glass.

"Wow, would you look at that?" Barb said, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and excitement. "I can't remember the last time it rained like this."

Floyd nodded, his gaze fixed on the torrents of water pouring from the sky. "It's almost like the whole city's getting a bath," he remarked with a small laugh. "I mean, we usually only see lava and ash. This is... kinda nice."

Barb grinned, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. "It's more than nice. It's like the universe decided to give us a little break. I love how the rain makes everything look so shiny and new."

Floyd shifted his weight, using his crutches for support. He watched as the rain created little rivers along the streets, washing away the grime and revealing the vibrant colors of the city beneath. The usually dry and cracked ground now glistened with a slick, wet sheen, and the distant sound of the rain mixing with the occasional roll of thunder was oddly soothing.

"Look at that," Floyd pointed out, nodding towards a small group of rock trolls who had ventured outside despite the storm. They danced and splashed in the puddles, their laughter carried on the wind. "They’re having the time of their lives."

Barb chuckled. "Yeah, they are. It’s like a party out there.”

The trolls playing outside in the rain were startled by a sudden flash of lightning, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. They screamed and scurried indoors, leaving the streets empty and echoing with the sound of the storm.

Barb and Floyd turned to look at each other, their faces reflecting the brief excitement of the scene. They exchanged weak smiles and let out breathy laughs, sharing a moment of amusement at the sudden chaos.

The sound of hooves clattering on the floor caught their attention. Floyd turned to address the troll. "Oh hey, Rebel—"

His words caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her. Rebel stood there, completely soaked, with soap bubbles clinging to her hair. She had clearly been in the middle of a bath. More bizarrely, she was wearing a fancy suit that was drenched and clinging awkwardly to her form. In her paw, she held a delicate glass filled with orange liquid, possibly juice or a cocktail.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Barb blurted out, her confusion evident.

Rebel rolled her eyes, looking both irritated and resigned. "I was taking a bath when the storm started. I had just put on this suit to see if it still fit for the party next week. Then the lights went out, and I slipped. Somehow, I ended up bathing with it on," she explained, holding up the glass as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Barb and Floyd exchanged incredulous glances before bursting into laughter. "Only you, Rebel," Barb managed to say between giggles. "Only you would end up in a situation like this."

Rebel sighed dramatically, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Yeah, well, life’s never boring around here, that’s for sure."

Floyd shook his head, still chuckling. "Come on, let’s get you dried off. And maybe next time, skip the suit when you’re taking a bath."

Rebel smirked, raising her glass in a mock toast. "Noted," she said, taking a sip of her drink as she followed them to find some towels.

–

Hair blew every which way in Rebel’s face, the warm air from the volcanic rock-encrusted blow dryer creating a chaotic whirlwind. The source of the chaos was a smug, pink-haired troll—Floyd—who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

Rebel sputtered as strands of her hair flew into her mouth, repeatedly spitting them out with increasing frustration. Finally, she had enough. With a swift motion, she unplugged the dryer, leaving her hair a messy, warm tangle.

She stared blankly at Floyd, one eyebrow arched in silent exasperation. Floyd met her gaze with a mischievous giggle, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Really, Floyd?" Rebel deadpanned, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Floyd just shrugged, still chuckling. "Hey, you wanted to dry your hair quickly, and I delivered. You can't say it wasn’t effective!"

Rebel rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Effective? Sure. Stylish? Not so much," she replied, trying to smooth down the wild mess.

"Style is overrated," Floyd teased, reaching out to help untangle a particularly stubborn knot. "Chaos is where the fun is."

Rebel swatted his hand away playfully. "Gods, you've been hanging out with Sidd and riff too much, let’s aim for a little less chaos, okay?"

Floyd laughed, handing her a comb. "Deal. But you’ve got to admit, it was kind of fun."

Shaking her head, Rebel took the comb and began working through her hair. "You’re impossible," she muttered.

Rebel lightly nudged Floyd in the shoulder, a calm, amused look on her face. "Come on, let's get out of here," she said, grabbing a brush. They walked out of the bathroom together, Rebel’s laid-back demeanor contrasting with Floyd’s playful energy.

As they descended the stairs, the noise from the living room grew louder, indicating they had visitors. Rebel raised an eyebrow at Floyd, who just shrugged with a mischievous grin.

"Sounds like a party," Floyd quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Let’s see what kind of circus this is," Rebel replied dryly, matching his tone.

When they reached the living room, they were met with an unexpected sight. Riff was dressed in a black and white frilly dress, his face painted white with red cheeks and a red nose. To top it all off, he wore a rainbow clown wig over his beanie. Carol stood beside him, wearing a sparkly red dress with spiked gloves. Both of them were soaking wet from the rain.

Rebel’s eyes widened slightly, but her expression remained mostly composed. "Well, this is different," she said, a hint of dry humor in her voice.

Floyd let out a hearty laugh, unable to hold it back. "Nice look, Riff. Lose a bet?"

Riff rolled his eyes, the red nose wobbling slightly. "Yeah, yeah. Carol here thought it’d be hilarious to dress me up as a clown. All because I lost one stupid bet."

Carol grinned, her excitement barely contained. "Hey, a bet’s a bet! And you look fabulous, Riff."

Rebel shook her head, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "You two never fail to surprise."

Barb entered the room, her demeanor softening as she took in the scene. "What’s going on here? And why is everyone soaking wet?"

Carol shrugged nonchalantly. "We decided to have a little fun in the rain. Didn’t expect it to turn into a storm, though."

Barb gave Carol a knowing look. "Fun, huh? And the clown getup?"

Carol’s grin widened. "Riff here lost a bet. This was his punishment."

Floyd, ever compassionate, stepped closer to Riff. "Well, at least you’re a good sport about it, Riff. Besides, you’re making everyone laugh, and that’s worth something."

Riff sighed, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "I guess so. Just wish it didn’t involve looking like this."

Rebel patted Riff’s shoulder, her touch kind but her tone teasing. "You’ll survive, clown."

Barb, her tough exterior cracking with amusement, chuckled. "You guys are a riot. Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold."

As they all moved towards the kitchen to get towels and dry off.

The group entered the kitchen, and Riff immediately hoisted himself onto the counter, his soaked dress leaving a small puddle. Carol, her usual energy undiminished, ran over to a small mirror and started making funny faces at her reflection. Floyd perched on a stool by the counter, swinging his legs idly.

"So, Riff," Floyd started, trying to contain his laughter, "if you could be any fruit, what would you be?"

Riff chuckled, shaking his head. "A fruit? Seriously?"

"Yeah, why not? Humor me," Floyd replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Alright," Riff said, thinking for a moment. "I’d probably be a pineapple. Spiky on the outside, sweet on the inside."

Floyd grinned. "Good choice. I think I’d be a grape. Small, but packs a punch."

Riff snorted. "You, a grape? More like a watermelon—big, colorful, and impossible to miss."

Meanwhile, Barb emerged from the walk-in pantry, her arms loaded with towels. She walked over to Carol, who was still engrossed in making faces. Handing her a towel, Barb couldn’t resist trying her luck. "You know, Carol, you’ve got the most amazing smile. It’s like... sunshine on a rainy day."

Carol blinked, looking at Barb with innocent confusion. "Thanks, Barb! That’s sweet of you. This rainstorm does need some sunshine, huh?" She took the towel and started drying her hair, completely oblivious to Barb’s attempt at flirting.

Barb sighed inwardly, turning her attention to the boys in the middle of the kitchen. She smirked, a chuckle escaping her lips at the sight of them. From the pantry, Rebel emerged, wearing a pink apron that was out of place. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Riff sitting on the counter, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Riff," she said, her voice dripping with exasperation, "get your wet ass off the counter."

Riff quickly hopped down, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Rebel. Didn’t mean to mess up your kitchen."

Rebel sighed, shaking her head as she grabbed a towel from Barb. "Honestly, you guys are like a bunch of kids. Next time it rains, maybe we’ll just lock the doors."

Floyd laughed, grabbing a towel and tossing it to Riff. "Come on, Rebel, where’s the fun in that?"

Rebel couldn’t help but smile, her usual calm demeanor returning. "Alright, alright. Just don’t make a habit of it. And next time, leave the counters dry."

Barb chuckled, watching the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and affection. "You guys sure know how to brighten up a stormy day."

Carol, finally drying off, joined in. "Yeah, and we make it fun, too!"

Carol's eyes suddenly sparkled with mischief, a devious idea forming in her mind. "Buuuut~ we can make it even more fun," she sang out, her voice lilting with excitement.

Rebel turned to her, pointing a ladle in her direction. "Whatever horrible idea you have, Carol, wait until after you all get something warm to eat. You're all going to catch a cold."

As Rebel pulled out some pots to start cooking, the other four gathered around, chatting animatedly. Carol, eager to share her latest scoop, leaned in closer to the group.

"Okay, guys, you won't believe what I heard," Carol began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Floyd's eyes widened with curiosity. "Spill it, Carol! What’s the hot gossip?"

Carol grinned, savoring the attention. "So, you know Ember, the Rock Troll with the spiked hair? Well, rumor has it she’s been sneaking out at night to meet up with none other than—"

"Crusher?" Floyd interrupted, his excitement barely contained. "No way! I thought he was into Sludge!"

Carol nodded vigorously. "I know, right? But apparently, Crusher and Ember have been seeing each other for weeks! They’ve been meeting at that old cave near the lava falls."

Barb leaned in, her eyebrows raised. "Wait, isn’t that the same cave where Ember and Sludge had that huge fight last summer?"

"Exactly!" Carol exclaimed, her eyes gleaming. "Which makes it even juicier! They’ve been keeping it a total secret. I overheard them talking about it when I was at the record shop."

Riff, trying to play it cool, smirked. "Well, that explains why Crusher’s been so distracted lately. Guess love’s in the air."

Floyd, completely engrossed, leaned closer to Carol. "So, what are they planning to do? Are they going public with their relationship?"

Carol shrugged, her grin widening. "That’s the thing—they’re planning to make a big announcement at the next Rockfest. It’s going to be the talk of the town!"

Floyd’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions. This is going to be epic!"

Rebel, overhearing their conversation, rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Alright, gossipmongers, food’s almost ready. Come set the table."

As the group helped Rebel with the final touches for dinner, the kitchen buzzed with their lively chatter.

–

Everyone had finished eating, and Carol was practically vibrating with excitement in her seat, ready to share her idea. Riff stared at his empty bowl, his expression a mix of confusion and distaste. "That soup was, uh... something, Rebel," he said cautiously.

"Tasted like ass," Barb said bluntly as she ladled herself another helping.

Rebel shrugged, her hands on her hips, while her tail deftly held a kettle, pouring tea into five cups. "Yeah, well, it's supposed to keep you healthy, not taste good. It works on the same principle as those liquid medicines."

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" Carol suddenly shouted, her excitement spilling over. "WE SHOULD GET BASKETS, TUBS, OR ANYTHING—HELL, EVEN A SKATEBOARD—AND RIDE THEM DOWN THE STAIRS! EHEHEHHE!"

Floyd's eyes widened in alarm. "Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute! That sounds really dangerous. I mean, I already have a broken leg. I'm not looking to make it worse."

Riff chuckled, leaning back against the counter. "Come on, Floyd, live a little. We've done crazier things before."

"Yeah, like the time we built a makeshift catapult and launched ourselves into the river," Barb added with a mischievous grin.

Floyd's concern didn't wane. "But that’s different! You guys don’t have to worry about broken bones like I do."

Rebel walked over to Floyd, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Floyd. We’ve got your back. We'll make sure you’re safe. Besides, we've done way worse. Remember when riff told you how we skateboarded through that underground lava tunnel?"

Floyd sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I remember. You guys are nuts."

Carol, still buzzing with energy, chimed in. "Exactly! And that's what makes it fun. Don’t worry, Floyd, we’ll make sure you’re in a safe spot. It’ll be legendary!"

Floyd finally relented, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Alright, alright. Just... be careful, okay?"

Barb winked at him. "Don’t worry, Pop. We’ll make sure you get the best seat in the house."

Rebel handed out the cups of tea, a playful smile on her face. "Alright, then. Let’s get this party started. But first, finish your tea. We need all the energy we can get for this."

Carol quickly downed her tea in record time, slamming the empty cup down with a satisfied sigh. She then bolted off to a side closet in the hallway by the stairs, returning with two skateboards. Rebel, having just finished her tea, followed Carol’s lead and headed upstairs.

Carol bounced around with barely contained excitement. "You’re going to LOVE this, Floyd! It's amazing, and so much fun! Oh, and we can get you a helmet so you don’t bust your head!" she said, hopping from one foot to the other.

Floyd raised an eyebrow, concern still etched on his face. "That doesn't really help with my main concern—"

"Relax, Floyd," Riff interrupted with a grin, hopping off the counter. "We’ll make sure you’re safe. We’ve done crazier stuff before, remember?"

Barb, still ladling soup into her bowl, smirked. "Yeah, like the time we rode shopping carts down that steep hill by the old quarry. Now that was wild."

Floyd sighed, but couldn’t help but smile at the memory. " You guys are nuts."

Rebel returned, holding a helmet and some knee pads. "Here you go, Floyd. Safety first," she said, handing them to him. "We won’t let anything happen to you."

Carol, now holding one of the skateboards, looked over at Floyd with eager eyes. "Come on, Floyd! Trust us, it’ll be a blast!"

Floyd took the helmet and knee pads, putting them on with a resigned smile. "Alright, alright. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?"

Barb walked over, patting him on the back. "Don’t worry, Pop. We’ve got this. You’ll be in the safest spot, I promise."

With that, the group made their way to the stairs, the air filled with excitement and anticipation. Carol and Riff positioned the skateboards at the top, while Rebel and Barb made sure everything was set up safely.

As Floyd sat on the skateboard, helmet securely in place, he couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, let's do this. But if I end up in a cast again, I'm blaming all of you."

Rebel winked at him. "Deal. Now hold on tight!"

Barb and Riff stood at the bottom of the stairs, meticulously arranging pillows for a soft landing. Once satisfied with their work, they both gave enthusiastic thumbs-ups to Carol.

"Ready, Floyd?" Carol asked with a mischievous grin.

"No, but let's do it anyway," Floyd replied, gripping the sides of the skateboard tightly.

With a playful push, Carol sent Floyd hurtling down the stairs. The skateboard clattered against each step, and Floyd's screams filled the air.

"Why did I agree to this?!" Floyd yelled, his voice a mix of terror and exhilaration.

Riff laughed from below, "Because it's fun, you big chicken!"

Barb cheered, "You got this, Floyd! Just hold on!"

Despite his initial fear, Floyd began to feel a rush of adrenaline. The skateboard sped down the stairs, and he couldn't help but laugh through his screams. "This is insane!" he shouted, a broad smile breaking across his face.

As he neared the bottom, the pillows cushioned his landing, and he came to a stop with a gentle thud. Barb and Riff immediately rushed over, pulling Floyd up from the skateboard.

"How was that, Pop?" Barb asked, grinning ear to ear.

Floyd, still breathless, laughed. "Terrifying, but... actually kind of fun."

Carol, who had been watching from the top, slid down the banister and landed gracefully next to them. "Told you it’d be amazing!" she exclaimed, high-fiving Floyd.

Rebel, who had stayed behind at the top of the stairs to ensure everything was safe, walked down with Floyd's crutches in hand. She handed them to him with a smirk. "You're braver than I thought, Floyd. Here's your gear back."

Floyd took the crutches gratefully. "Thanks, Rebel. I think I’m gonna need these to calm my nerves."

Barb laughed, giving Floyd a playful nudge. "See, you survived! Ready for round two?"

Floyd shook his head, still grinning. "Let's just take it one crazy stunt at a time, alright?"

Rebel, ever the responsible one, put a hand on Floyd's shoulder. "Maybe next time we'll try something a bit less life-threatening."

The group laughed together, the sound of their voices filling the house. Despite the storm outside, the inside was filled with warmth and laughter. The calm before the storm.

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