#and panicking for maybe 3 seconds? and then we all drown | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whxre-bxby · 11 months

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ur def my fav recom writer🥲🥲🥲, no one writes the way u write and ur anons leave the best ideas😫😫😫🤭🤭🤭

Thank you! I'll try to keep it up :)

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N

"A Different Kind Of Warmth"

Masterlist

Summary: Mansk and Y/N survive the final battle on the sinking ship and escape. Both are lost in the forest and as night falls, the cold reaches their skin. To warm up, they huddle for warmth but Mansk has a hard time containing his rising feelings.

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, death, near-death experience, fluff, breeding kink, penetration, soft/sub Mansk

Word Count: 9426

When I woke up as a recom, I had hope for life. The new body, new attitude and new mission had me thinking we had a chance to win this time. Boy, was I wrong.

The S-79 SeaDragon was going down, slowly becoming submerged by water. The water I was struggling in. I was on the lower deck along with the Colonel and a few other soldiers when all hell broke loose. The recom team was being taken down one by one and soon enough everyone was fending for themselves. I had been knocked into the water by falling heavy equipment and was now holding onto the railing on the side of the huge ship. It was tilted and sinking and I knew it wouldn’t keep me above the surface for long.

I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Climbing back up on deck and looking for Sully was suicide. Drowning sounded better to me than getting an axe to the head or an arrow in my side.

I didn’t plan on swimming for much longer. Everyone was dead and I didn’t know how to get back to Bridgehead. The feeling of being alone started to drown me more than the water and my heart ached as I tried making a list in my head of who could still be alive. I just saw 3 of us die. Meaning that maybe Lyle was alive. I don’t know where Quaritch is and I haven’t seen Mansk. I know Z-Dog is down, along with Prager. Lopez and Ja died a few hours earlier.

The rail I was holding was now fully submerged in the ocean’s water and I was standing on it until I couldn’t feel it beneath me anymore. My legs and arms were sore from swimming and I felt myself growing weaker. I was turning around, looking for any available platform I could cling to or land but everything was either sinking or too far away. The SeaDragon was slowly tipping over and its side was coming down over me. I was ready to let the deck just drown me and pull me down but suddenly a huge splash erupted next to me. I gasp, turning around to see what it was and then I recognised an Avatar’s head breaking through the surface and gasping for air. It was Mansk and his wide eyes met my own.

I sigh in relief, letting my eyes flutter closed for a few seconds as I realise I’m not about to be killed by a Na’vi.

“Y/N?” he asked breathlessly, fighting to keep his head above water. I frantically nod, swimming over to him a bit.

“Yeah.” I gasp, coughing some water out of my lungs. He nods, seeming relieved by my presence. At least we weren’t alone.

“Did you see anyone else?” I ask, searching around us again. Mansk weakly shakes his head ‘no’ and I sigh. He turned around, not seeming as lost as me.

I feel glad that he seemed to have a plan. I was going to just swim in the same spot until I drown but now I had a reason to stay alive.

He leads the way, swimming away from the ship and I follow, feeling too weak to question where we are going. Or where he was going. I didn’t want to stay behind.

Mansk seemed to have more strength than me. I had been swimming for almost half an hour so I was struggling to keep up.

He was faster and I was slightly panicking internally, hoping he wouldn’t leave me behind.

Mansk and I were mutual friends I guess. We knew we were on the same side and that we could rely on each other but I never had a proper conversation with him. He was very distant around people.

He turned around in the water, noticing you weren’t as close behind as he hoped. His movements in the water stopped proceeding forward as he watched you swim to him, noticing your movements and stamina falter. Mansk’s heart was racing and adrenaline was rushing through his veins from the battle. In the back of his mind, he wondered whether anyone else was alive. Either way, he had you now and he couldn’t let anything happen to either of you. Clearly, you had been struggling for longer than him so he needed to help you get to land.

Mansk’s arm reached out for mine, pulling me to him and my eyes opened at the contact. Since I last saw him so far from me, my heart dropped at the feeling of being touched and I dreaded it to be something from the ocean. Luckily it was Mansk and he scanned over me with a worried expression.

I tasted blood in my mouth and felt it coming from my nose.

I hold on to his vest, coughing again after nearly choking on more salty water. My tired eyes were closing and my legs were no longer able to push me as far as before.

“Almost there.” he said, stretching his left arm under my arms to keep me stable.

His voice took me by surprise. He had spoken a few times but I still couldn’t remember what he sounded like because it was so rare. Mansk spoke in a deep tone, sounding hoarse from the fight.

I nod while gasping for air and he realises he’s running out of time with me. His ears strain back against his head and he tightens his grip around me to not lose me.

Mansk starts swimming again, pulling me with him while my legs and arms try to boost me forwards and up weakly.

All my muscles hurt and I couldn’t properly swim anymore.

Mansk clenched his jaw, not tearing his eyes away from the targeted land he had found. He was going to get you both there alive. His arms started slicing through the water as he pulled you behind him by your vest. He wasn’t going to leave you, he was going to make it there so he used all the strength he had in him to do so.

I felt like I was going to pass out and suddenly, the arm pulling me through the water let go of me. My body stilled and I soon realised I was sinking down. The noise of the loud crashing waves stilled as water filled my ears and everything went quiet. No more splashing or creaking from the sinking boat. Just a faint ringing in my ears and my heartbeat which I felt pounding in my ears and in the back of my head. I faintly open my eyes, staring up at the water's surface, noticing the small bubbles from my nose push upwards in a squiggly line. It seems so close yet so agonisingly difficult to reach. As if it were teasing my bodies strength, in a cruel test of agility and strength.

The weighty resistance on my chest prevented me from gasping for air and as I slowly sunk, I felt myself be distanced from life more and more. The life I didn’t actually ask for but the one I was ordered to have. A life in an artificial body of the species I was hunting to kill.

My already weakened limbs seem to be moving in slow motion as I search for something to hold on to and pull me up, but I’m surrounded by endless amounts of heavy and dark water, threatening to force its way into my body and fill me up until I become one with the ocean. The passing seconds of time seem to strain and stretch into eternity as my need for air makes me dizzy. Once again I felt alone and abandoned. My memories were blurred together and I wasn’t even sure whether I had seen Mansk at all. Perhaps I had been drowning this entire time and was only imagining being saved by him while I drifted in and out of consciousness. Maybe everyone really was dead and I was now the last one to go.

My chest felt as though it was going to burst and the natural instinct to breathe overpowered my reasonability and I desperately attempted to inhale and draw in air when it was clear there was none. The liquid seeped into my lungs making me feel heavier as I sunk and moved with the waves. The uncomfortable feeling made terror shoot through my weak body as I started to realise that my time was running out. Thinking of death when one is safe doesn’t seem threatening but now I was maybe just minutes away from everything I had ever experienced coming to an end. It was fastly approaching and helplessness spurred me on to struggle and swim to the surface.

My vision blurs like my thoughts and I notice my state of panic vanish. The light around me fades along with the chaos as I float in an eery haze of calmness and stillness.

Suddenly, my heart seems to reboot out of shock. I hear a muffled yet crashing noise above me and light rays shine down on my luminescent blue skin as the surface of the water breaks. Bubbles break out in the targeted area, hiding the object causing the surface to ripple. Then, a hand pushes through the surface and grabs onto my vest, making me realise I wasn’t that deep in the water. My mouth opens from the habit to gasp and the last remaining large bubbles of oxygen leave my lips. The arm pulls my still body up and within seconds I feel much heavier again. Water is no longer engulfing me and my movements are not as restricted. My legs and arms scrape against a hard rock when suddenly I feel steady ground beneath me.

Mansk had reached the shore and climbed it so that he could pull me on it after him. He had reached the top of the flat rock and turned around to help me up when he noticed I was no longer there. Panic washed over him as his wide eyes hastily searched the water for my body and he spotted it beneath the waves. Without hesitation, Mansk leaned forwards and hurriedly fished for one of my limbs to be able to help me up. Relief calmed him when he gripped onto me and his arms tugged me away from the edge of the water and next to him on the ground.

I hurled myself forward, quickly scanning my surroundings and faintly realising I was on land and with Mansk. Laying on my belly while my back arched uncomfortably, I desperately coughed up all the heavy water I had taken in. My lungs hurt and my body ached while I propped myself up on my elbows and gasped for air between coughs and chokes. Mansk leaned forwards, also breathing heavily and laid his hand on my back while I struggled to breathe again.

My hands were pressed flat against the wet rock as I regained my senses, trying to calm my breathing. I allowed myself to close my eyes from exhaustion for a few seconds before looking at Mansk.

“Mansk-” I whimper with red eyes and a trembling voice.

He saw the fear in my eyes and instantly felt responsible and blameworthy for the situation I was just in. What was just a few seconds or a minute to him seemed like ages to my previously submerged self.

But I was just grateful to be alive with him. I wanted to somehow express my feelings of appreciation for his help even though it was the bare minimum but my mind was still a mess. Maybe give him a hug or tell him a few heartfelt words but I knew that all that would barely scratch the surface of the depth of my feelings. I had too many emotions surging through me.

“You okay?” he asked, knowing I could obviously be better. He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t too traumatised or maybe I had a wound he didn’t know about.

It takes me a few seconds to answer because I just recently wanted to cry for help. In contrast, now I nodded my head slowly.

“Yeah. Are you?” I ask, stumbling forwards on my knees slightly and leaning against him.

He catches me by my shoulders and props me up straight while I feel around his torso for wounds.

The desperation of my actions warms his heart when he realises there could be a chance of me truly caring about him.

“Yeah.” he replies, his voice scruffy. I scan over him to make sure and then nod, leaning back on my feet. Neither of us was okay. We were far from it. But we weren’t dying anymore. And as marines and in the military, you are okay as long as you’re alive and not being held at gunpoint.

The weight of the situation started to sink in as I turned around on the rock and faced the almost fully sunken ship. Mansk watched it too and it made us both feel uneasy. Our friends that we’ve known for years were on there. Their dead bodies were probably sinking in the water while he sat up here and watched. Almost instantly I felt guilty. There must have been a way I could have helped them but I didn’t and now there was nothing I could do.

I press down on the call in my throat. “Does anyone copy?” I ask, hoping one of our team members will reply. Mansk presses his own and listens in but the line is dead. No one replies and my heart sinks to my stomach.

Without me noticing my breaths grew heavy and unsteady again and my nose twitched, providing me with the sign that tears were forming in my eyes.

Mansk sat a little behind me, letting the harsh reality sink in while I refused to accept it and still searched to see if anyone was swimming or moving. But there was nothing. The action was gone and suddenly, the world felt dystopian and scary.

Both of us were drenched, sitting in the puddles of water that drained and trickled from our clothes and attire.

We sit in silence for a while. Both of our minds are too full of thoughts and feelings we need time to reorganise them and come back to our senses.

I come to the conclusion that we can’t stay here but I also realise we have no way of getting back. The communication pieces on our necks and in our ears were damaged and even if our Ikrans found us we wouldn’t know the way back to Bridghead.

I slowly turn around to Mansk. He looks like he’s going to be sick. Being abandoned and alone on a foreign planet surrounded by dangerous and unknown creatures is not something the military can prepare a soldier for. We also knew that every Na’vi we encountered from now on would not hesitate to kill us for the destruction and devastation we caused. I didn’t even blame them for it.

The scene of the sinking SeaDragon showed me how disastrous and fatal our actions were. To me, the fallen soldiers and warriors from both sides are a haunting sight. I can spot a few bodies motionlessly floating in the water or stretched along the wreckage. The cost of war on this planet didn’t seem worth it. From that battle of hell, Mansk and I had survived. But we were not victorious. What I was looking at was not victory. We were defeated survivors, left to fend for ourselves in a world that resented us.

“What do we do now?” I ask, wondering whether he might have a plan to get us out of here. Mansk’s eyes were unfocused, emotionlessly staring at the wreck in the ocean but my voice drew him from his thoughts and back to reality. He stared at me, opening his mouth in an attempt to say something before closing it again.

He didn’t know. Both of us were helpless. But what was clear was that we couldn’t stay here, drenched in clothes that symbolised our side of the war.

The eclipse was almost over and the sky grew darker.

“Come.” he said and I watched him get up before forcing myself off the ground with the remaining strength I had. Yep, he wasn’t much of a talker.

But I could trust him and I knew he was thinking like me. We needed shelter to survive the night and freezing on a wet rock is not the way to do it. So we headed to the forest. This was common sense, especially for Marines.

Mansk walked slightly ahead of me while I limped after him. Our guns were useless and gone so we were left with only our daggers. I had a knife and Mansk had one of Lyle’s machetes.

We left the coast behind, warily walking into the deadly forest which still haunted us from experiences in both our lives.

The light of day had now vanished, and the trees further dimmed our surroundings. But our new bodies enabled us to see clearly in the dark.

I was moving forward with a hand on my hip in pain while my head was dropped and my eyes weak. It was only then that I started to notice the grass become luminous beneath my feet.

My ears perked forwards and I looked around, noticing the colour and the light of the forests of Pandora at night. The beauty of it entranced me, making me forget the hate we were told we should have for this world. Despite its dangers, the forest was magical and it lured us deeper in. Oddly, I felt connected to it in some way. Forgetting the harm I had just caused, I felt drawn to the trees. Perhaps my body was trying to persuade my mind to switch sides again. It happened before. This blue Avatar wanted me to naturalise here but my willpower was stronger.

My eyes shoot up and I scan over Mansk. He seems inattentive to the surrounding lights and colours. Sometimes, I feel like he sees the world in black and white because he never sympathises with things. No matter what beautiful sight of Pandora you would show him, Mansk would not fall into its trap. Not that he was fighting his will, he just genuinely disliked this planet.

Mansk was walking at my speed so that I wouldn’t fall behind and his arms smoothly swung as he held the machete. He had used it to cut the path free from plants but now the large leaves had vanished. I noticed how tense he looked. His ears were tipped back but his tail was still. He lost his shades because they weren’t on his head as usual. My eyes drifted over him while I completely spaced out from reality. The long-sleeved uniform he wore suited him. It would be unlike Mansk to walk around in a tank top or something similar to Quaritch’s attire. I never understood why but I didn’t question it. At least he wasn’t as oddly self-obsessed as many others. His vest emphasized his broad torso which evidently slimmed down at his waist and the cloth around his arms strained a little through the muscle. Mansk was lean and I found myself admiring him which I had done once or twice before. It embarrassed me to think of him like this because I wanted to be professional but then I would remind myself that our team really wasn’t professional. Sure, around people ranking higher than us yes. The Colonel too, but between us many acted like teenagers. Not just Lyle.

My eyes mindlessly continue to stare at him and he seems to feel them, turning around and glancing at me. Our eyes lock and suddenly I don’t know what to do so I quickly avert my gaze back to the ground before letting it flicker to the many plants. He keeps his eyes on me for a few more seconds, examining me himself before turning back to the front. My heartbeat picked up its pace even though he showed me no emotion and my thoughts were scattered. That’s why I was once again not paying attention and I bumped into him as he stopped.

Mansk glanced over his shoulder and his ears perked as he watched you recover from thumping into him before looking away again. He smiled to himself. Not a big smile, just the corners of his mouth lifted in slight amusement and his tail flicked. But he wouldn’t let you see, so he quickly hid his emotions with his neutral and unbothered expression.

I rubbed my forehead and my ears drooped in embarrassment. Mansk hadn’t even been nudged forward through my actions, it felt like hitting a brick wall.

“How ‘bout there?” he asked and instantly my attention devoted itself to him and his voice. My ears twitch forward and I step out from behind him to let my eyes follow where he is looking. It’s a larger tree and it looked dead. Perhaps it had been hit by lightning at some point but what was attractive to us was the fact that it had fallen over halfway onto another tree creating a type of shelter. I looked around, noticing there was a grass patch surrounding it and we could stand beneath the fallen trunk in the case of rain.

While you’re scanning the place, Mansk’s eyes are fixed on you. His ears finally let loose from being flattened back and move forward slightly as he eyes your facial features, taking note of your luminescent patterns, your nervously twitching ears and nose. His stern gaze softens for the first time in a few hours. You had been walking for a while and he only let his mask of steel falter and slip up when you were battling the water.

The way your eyes sparkled in the lights of the night had him unable to take his eyes off of you for a few extra seconds.

I turned to look up at him and he almost flinched away. His ears immediately pinned back and his tail froze. His retreating actions startled me and I waited a few seconds before answering.

“Let’s check it out.” I say softly, choosing to lead the way for a change.

Mansk watches me start to walk to the tree. He lets his hands rest on his waist as he drops and shakes his head lightly before following me.

He should feel endangered and worried but somehow you’re presence distracted him from the horrors you both had just witnessed and you were all he could think about.

I walk beneath the tree, running my hand over the dried-up bark. It was stable and the ground felt soft to my bare feet.

Mansk reaches me, turning around and scanning over the place. I stand still for a few moments in thought before a shiver runs over me and I notice I’m hugging myself for warmth.

We were still wearing our drenched clothes and they were keeping our skin moist and cold and had our clothes stick to it.

Mansk turns around to me and I nod a few times in approval of the place before starting to unstrap my vest. The water made it feel heavier.

He felt cold too and noticed what I was doing so he followed. A strap was stuck because the plastic was busted so I cut a part of it open, discarding the useless material on the ground. My tank top followed, which I had to peel from my skin because it was still soaked. I pulled it over my head and started wrenching and twisting the water out of the cloth and onto the ground.

Mansk slightly turned away from me and was doing the same with his coat.

My legs were freezing so I started opening my belt. I then moved against the side of the tree and sat down so I could strip the cold pants off. I sighed, rubbing my forehead again out of exhaustion before throwing them onto my pile of clothes.

I sat cross-legged on the grass in my underwear. Luckily it wasn’t too revealing. The sports bra could count as a top and my underwear was the length of tight shorts.

Mansk had taken his top clothes off, holding them in his hand and he kept his cammies on. He turned to you and noticed your bare skin but he turned his head away not wanting you to feel uncomfortable. He also wanted to stay focused on somehow getting back to Bridgehead and looking at you would not help him concentrate.

He sat down next to me but kept his distance. Mansk seemed unsure of the situation. He’d never been in this position before.

I glanced at him, also quickly tearing my eyes away in case he would notice me staring again. My hands were around my braid which carried water in the hair and I was trying to squeeze it out.

We sat in comfortable silence and I winced, letting out a squeak of pain when I twisted my queue too harshly.

Mansk’s eyes flickered to me at the noise and he watched what I was doing. We were still getting used to the body and I’ve never had to drain water from my Kuru cord yet.

The RDA told us we didn’t have to shower because Na’vi don’t sweat the same way humans do.

I look at him and this time he doesn’t cower away. Mansk kept his pants on and his cord wet. The perfect way of getting sick. The water from his queue was drizzling down his bare torso.

I start opening my braid, carefully untangling the hair so that I could squeeze the water out of it without hurting myself. Mansk is still subtly watching me.

“You should do it too. Otherwise, it’ll hurt you tomorrow.” I say, glancing back at him. Mansk ears perk forward at my words and he stays still for a few moments before looking at the braid resting over his shoulder. Using words to answer was rarely deemed necessary for him.

He slowly mirrors my movements and unsurely removes the hair tie before opening the braid. Our hair was thick and I knew it felt odd for him because he was used to having his hair buzzed short his entire life. His hands clumsily untangle the Kuru from our hair and I can tell it’s the first time he’s doing something like this. Mansk looks over at me to see how I’m drying mine, his lost and confused eyes trying to find answers.

I smile to myself, only opening it halfway because the water had seeped to the lower strands of hair and was dry on my scalp.

Once I was done, I leaned back against the bark, slumping my shoulders while re-braiding my hair around my queue. It took me a while to figure out how to keep it in the centre of the strands but eventually, it worked. When I finished I glanced over at Mansk who had almost opened his entire braid and had his fingers tangled in hair.

He was helpless.

“You need help?” I ask, biting my lip to suppress giggles. He glances at me in defeat and looks embarrassed that he can’t get it back together.

“Yeah.” He softly replies, removing his hands from his hair. I walk over to him on my knees and sit behind him.

“I don’t know how to braid.” He mumbles, sitting with his knees bent and torso leaned forward.

I run my fingers through the hair to straighten them out before separating them into three strands.

“I can teach you if you’d like.” I say, tilting my head to the side to look at him in case he decides to turn around and glance at me but Mansk stays still.

“Nah, it’s fine.” he replies, his voice quiet but still gravelly. My ears droop as my hope dies down. He should learn how to do it because he’ll be stuck with his queue until he dies. But I’m not going to push him.

My fingers start braiding away, gently holding his cord in place as I try my best to cover it with hair from all sides. Whenever I brush my fingers against the Kuru, I glance at him to make sure he’s all right and he is. Mansk looks unfazed to me.

You couldn’t see over his back. Mansk had his fists tightly closed and his body was tense. You two had never been so close before. He hadn’t been like this with anyone and he never planned on it but with the situation you two were in, Mansk had to push himself a little. He would never let anyone braid his hair. The idea seemed stupid and pathetic to him but weirdly, he trusted you enough to do it right and not mock him for not knowing how to. But you touching him like that had its downsides. Mansk forced himself to suppress shivers every time your fingers held his queue or grazed his back. He was nervous and the feeling felt almost threatening to him because Mansk never felt that way.

Another cold shiver ran through my body and I tried curling myself up into a ball while finishing his braid. My tail was wrapped around my waist and my fingers were trembling.

Mansk must have felt it and he looked over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” I say, trying to suppress the frigid chills washing over me. “ It’s cold as fuck.” I add with a breathy laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

I knew he was quiet but I never had to deal with it one on one because we were always with the team. His silence had my thoughts running wild and I had to fight myself to not keep trying to fill it.

Mansk gives me the faintest nod and faces forwards again and I want to face-palm myself. For a few seconds, I wondered whether that was all the reply I would get from him.

“Are your clothes dry?” he then asks and my drooped ears twitch forwards and my eyes brighten.

“No. Still wet.” I say, looking over at my pile before returning my focus to his hair and tying the end with the hair tie.

“Here, it’s done.” My hands lift his braid and I place it over his shoulder so that he can see.

Mansk examines it with interested eyes. “Thanks.” He quietly replies and I nod, sitting back down against the tree. This time I was slightly close to him.

I pull in my legs, hugging my knees and curling my trembling tail around me before resting my chin on my legs. Perhaps we could make a fire but I was too exhausted to go and look for firewood and attempt to start it. I knew Mansk was too.

Mansk leaned back against the bark now too and the corners of his eyes caught the movement of your shivering frame, directing his attention back to you. Not that it ever left. Mansk wished he could give you his coat if it were dry but it wasn’t. He’d also much rather be wearing more himself.

I was brought back to the dreadful images of the shipwreck as the silence faded the reality around me. While my arms clutched my legs tightly I slowly rocked back and forth to try and keep me a little warmer. It also helped me calm down. My eyes were unfocused and I was staring in front of me with wide and blank eyes. I was so absentminded that I hadn’t noticed Mansk’s movements.

I felt something on my back and flinched in shock. Mansk quickly drew back his hand and looked at my confused expression.

I sighed and dropped my head down, feeling relieved that I was here and not in the water.

He had moved closer to me and we were seated right next to one another now. I tried calming my breathing again when Mansk repeatedly gently placed his hand on my back. He could tell I was having a hard time digesting what happened today so I guess this was his way of comforting me. I didn’t mind it. In fact, I pushed into the feeling of the palm of his hand. It was warm against my skin and I felt him radiate body heat against me.

I look up at him and give him a soft smile and he returns it for once before looking down at his legs.

His hand really did comfort me and I was forcing myself to stay seated upright and not just fall into him.

My eyes were fluttering closed because I felt tired but I couldn’t get anywhere near sleeping when I was this cold. They shot open when Mansk’s shivered and I felt his hand twitch. There was no doubt about it. We were both cold.

My head once again lifts and I look at him and his posture, wondering whether I can just lean into him. He lifts his head from having it leaned back against the tree and our eyes meet.

“Is it okay if I lean against you?” I ask with half-lidded eyes. I felt tired and I didn’t mind asking anymore. If he says no I’ll just tip to the other side and try to sleep.

Mansk seemed surprised by my words but I had a feeling he was thinking of the same thing. It was chilly and we could stay warm if we shared our body heat. I couldn’t feel my warmth but he could and vice versa.

His perked ears of interest now leaned back as he attempted to answer.

“Uh-” Mansk swallowed nervously as I stared up at him. “Yeah, sure.” He said, internally cursing himself for stuttering.

I smile and scoot a little closer. Mansk lifts his arm up as I move under it and then I just lean my upper body into his, lying against his side. My body relaxes with the feeling of his warmth and I hum in appreciation.

He stays still for a few seconds, not daring to even breathe. Then he slowly lowers his arm and unsurely rests it around my shoulder.

My head is resting against the side of his chest and I discover how comfortable Mansk feels.

I push my legs a little closer to his frame all while he watches from above and my arm loosely drapes around his middle.

Yep, that’ll do. If we’re still stuck here tomorrow night then Mansk will become my regular bed.

He slowly eases himself against me, trying to relax his tense body. The skin-to-skin contact was something he hadn’t felt in ages and it was electrifying to him. Mansk would never give nor receive physical affection. The most he would do with his friends were handshakes and knuckle bumps or a pat on the back. He hadn’t given anyone a hug in years so to receive something like this had his heartbeat racing and Mansk prayed you wouldn’t feel it.

The tip of his tail was wagging and lightly thumping against the ground so Mansk rested his free hand on it to stop the movements. He didn’t want you to know about what a nervous wreck he had become since you both sat down.

My eyes were growing heavy but then I noticed something new. Mansk’s scent or more like his musk seemed to grow stronger. I wondered whether I was inhaling too deeply but I wasn’t. My eyes close again as I decide to brush it off. My head nudges his side as I move it to my comfort and now my ear is flatly pressed against his skin. Within seconds I can hear thumping and it doesn’t take me long to realise it’s his heartbeat and it’s fast.

I’m wide awake again, wondering about what was happening to him. Maybe he was afraid and was remembering the sinking ship, or he was in a painful position but didn’t want to wake me? Perhaps he felt sick.

I slowly lift myself up, rubbing an eye before looking up at him.

Mansk’s ears are drooped to the side and his eyes are wide as he watches your movements, dreading to hear you ask him why he’s so tense. When you look up at him his heart stops beating in fear and he freezes.

“Are you okay?” I ask but he refuses to meet my eyes or answer.

My head drops forward and I rub my other eye while thinking about what to do because he was silent.

“If it’s uncomfortable then I can move back and you- can…” I say, opening my eyes before I stop mid-sentence. While rubbing the sleep from them, my head was coincidentally pointed to his abdomen and as I opened my eyes, they were met with the least expected sight.

I shut up and my lips are slightly parted in surprise as I just stare down at his pants with wide eyes. His cammies are strained in his crotch area and I can see that Mansk has an erection.

To his horror, he can see that you’ve noticed what he’s been trying to hide and suppress. Everything seemed to be coming crashing down on him and he wished he could sink into the ground in shame.

You two worked together, he didn’t want you to think of him as some pervert. He also really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

While Mansk was cursing and hating himself I just kept staring. It took me longer than it should have to figure out that he got so worked up because of how close I was to him.

“You could have just told me, you know?” I say, grinning up at him and Mansk is torn out of his destructive thoughts by the sound of my voice.

Once again he is speechless. He was expecting to be insulted or scolded by you. Not that he could picture you doing that, he oddly couldn’t. But a positive reaction wasn’t even on his radar of possible outcomes.

I fully turn around to face him. He’s staring at me with wide eyes while I drink in his flushed face of embarrassment and bare torso.

“You need some help with that?” I ask, tilting my head in a playful way so that he would get the memo.

He was starstruck in utter disbelief.

“What?” he asked, his voice sounding even more hoarse but this time it trembled. He was too stunned to regret sounding nervous.

“I need to know. Yes or no? I don’t want to cross your boundaries but I can help you out.” I say, wanting to make it clear that I’m fine with this.

He can’t answer, his voice seems unreachable to him.

I decide to rid him of any doubtful questions in his head so I lean forward and trace the tattoo on his chest, making him shiver.

“Mansk. Do you want me?” I say, keeping my teasing grin. Who would have known that a big and serious man like him could fall apart so easily?

His mouth is lightly hanging open and he doesn’t even think his answer through because he feels too drawn to you and the moment you two are having. Mansk slightly nods his head even though a voice in the back of his head still has him secretly fearing you would suddenly walk away.

“Use your words.” I whisper, leaning in a little closer and he couldn’t care less about being told what to do.

“I want you.” he answers in a raspy voice and I notice how dilated with lust his pupils have become.

Mansk never takes orders from anyone but his superiors. Meaning he’d follow Quaritch and often Lyle, but rarely would he listen to others. Not because he was rude but because he didn’t like being told what to do by people who weren’t qualified to give orders.

My sneaky smile turns into a grin again and I shift forwards, moving my legs over his own so that I was straddling his lap. Mansk moved his arms out of the way, still watching me in disbelief. To further enlighten his burdening thoughts, I reach to his neck and gently tug at his dog tag while moving my face close to his.

I watch him and his eyes keep flickering between mine before they fixate on my lips. Our warm breaths are fanning against the other and our noses brush. I want him to initiate the kiss to make sure I’m not taking advantage of his desperate state. My free hand rests on his chest, stroking over his pec and feeling up his bare skin.

Mansk can’t take it anymore and he fills the gap between both your lips by leaning forward and catching your mouth with his.

My heart seems to skip a beat in excitement and I immediately kiss him back, melting against his touch. My hands are all over his torso and soon I notice how he keeps his at his sides.

He was relishing in the feeling of having you so close to him. A big part of him needed this for a long time. Now the void in him was finally being filled and Mansk was afraid of doing something wrong so he didn’t touch you until you would tell him to.

I pull away, keeping one of my hands on his cheek as I smile in adoration. He was cute like this. His cheeks were burning up while his big eyes watched me attentively. My eyes search for his hands and I pick one up, guiding it to my waist. Mansk supports my movements, gripping and feelings my waist and hips in a way that told me he greatly needed this.

“This is one way of keeping us warm.” I tease while his hands feel up my barely covered body.

His eyes shoot up to me and he looks down with a small smile when he notices I’m teasing him.

I decide to speed things up because my back is cold and I’m looking forward to the warm aftercare just as much as the actual sex. I lean back, sitting down on his groin which makes him shakily exhale. My hands then attach to the moist cloth of my sports bra and I pull it over my head.

Mansk looks awestruck as his hazy eyes admire my chest.

“Touch me.” I whisper and in the next second, Mansk is cupping and massaging my breast. I sigh in soft pleasure, tilting my body so that my chest is pushed further out for him.

Mansk wants to feel me closer so he wraps his arms around my waist and gently pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck while he buries his face in my one, pressing his nose against the side of my throat and deeply inhaling my scent.

I start feeling needy so I slowly roll my hips forward, grinding down on him. My actions make Mansk draw in a sharp breath and I feel his grip on me tighten.

I continue and am able to feel all of him pressing against me. His dick twitches in his pants and I gasp when my clothed clit brushes against the side of him.

Mansk’s ears are trained on me and longingly listen to every noise I make.

I no longer want clothes to separate our bodies so I quickly press a kiss to his cheek before climbing off him on his other side. Mansk seems dazed and belatedly follows my movements.

“Take them off.” I groan, lifting my hips off the ground to remove my panties. He doesn’t need to be told twice and his hands work on unbuckling his belt. Hurriedly he opens his army pants and tugs them down his thighs.

I’ve ripped my panties off of me and thrown them somewhere behind me and now helped Mansk rid himself of his pants and underwear.

Once he kicks them off his feet Mansk realises I’m completely naked and his movements slow. He seems to daze off again into his thoughts which amuses me. I press my hand against his deliciously warm chest and push his torso back against the bark of the tree before straddling his waist again.

“You’re so beautiful…” Mansk mumbles and my eyes shoot up to him in surprise. I haven’t received a compliment in a long time and I could tell he meant it even though I wasn’t sure he knew he said it aloud.

“Says you, pretty boy.” I giggle and his eyes widen at the pet name. A blush clouds his warm cheeks again and I smile.

Mansk never thought he looked bad but he never found anything about him that he thought was really good-looking. Sure he was built but so was everyone else. That tattoo was meant to give him some uniqueness but he was often unsure of it. He just felt too regular and therefore any compliments about his appearance had his heart fluttering.

I glance down between us and my eyes widen once again. I was expecting something normal sized but Mansk was much bigger than expected. Perhaps it was a common Na’vi trait but I doubted that.

“Holy fuck-” I whisper under my breath, slowly tracing my fingers down his abs and to his v-line before stopping close to his crotch. Mansk hears my reaction and he can tell by the way I bite my lip that I’m happy with him. He feels more confident with what he’s doing now.

I lift my hand and wrap it around the middle of his shaft to test the waters. Mansk shudders at the contact, inhaling deeply to ready himself for what is to come.

Everything about him is such a turn-on to me I can’t stop looking at him. My hand starts to gently stroke him and I glance up to see that his eyes have fluttered closed. One of his hands was loosely holding my hip while the other was pressed together in a tight fist against the ground.

His reactions make me crave more from him so I tighten my fingers around him, tugging at his dick before I stop at his tip and glide my thumb over the slit that’s leaking beads of pre-cum.

He presses his lips together tightly and his ears flicker back in pleasure. It must feel good even though I’m working on him dry. This makes me realise I can just move to the next stage because I’m craving him badly too.

I stop my movements, giving Mansk the chance to take a breather and recover. My legs lift me a little higher and I place my palm against the side of his dropped head.

“Ready?” I ask, looking at him for approval. Mansk lazily nods his head, gently tugging my waist forward to steady us both.

“Yeah-” he breathes out and I nod back.

My hand slowly guides the tip of his dick to my burning and sensitive entrance, mixing his pre-cum with the heat that has leaked out of me. It seems the new bodies of ours are far more responsive to erotic feelings than human bodies.

Mansk holds his breath again, watching with lust-drunk eyes. I line him up with my hole and slowly sink down on him. His lips part as he feels himself become engulfed by warmth and slick squeezing him from all sides. A soft groan is elicited from his mouth, encouraging me to continue pushing myself down him.

I gasp as he starts to fill me and once I bottom out I place both my hands on his chest to steady myself. My breathing is heavy while his is ragged.

“Fuck-” he mutters under his breath.

I decide to be a little mean and tease him just a tiny bit more.

“I’m warm now, we can stay like this.” I say, playing it off innocently.

Mansk would generally never complain about that but at this moment in time, his body craved you so badly he needed you to move and help him find a release. He looked up at me and seemed alarmed that I wouldn’t help him out of his state so he naturally tightened his grip on my hips.

I smirk at him, leaning my head back in amusement at his panicked reaction. Mansk can’t do anything but watch me with a pleading look.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Then I can give it to you.”

My words make him shiver and for once it’s not due to the cold.

“Please move…” he whines, looking at me with desperate eyes.

“Good boy.” I coo, rubbing my thumb against his cheek and he seems surprised by my praise but it makes him feel better.

He wasn’t used to being a bottom but right now he wanted nothing more but for you to take care of him.

I start to gently rock my hips back and forth making Mansk gulp as he restrains himself from digging his fingers into my skin. His abs tense and his biceps flex as he starts to finally feel pleasure softly rid him of the feeling of being painfully hard.

I notice how even through his tension, Mansk slowly melts and relaxes against my touch. It encourages me to lean forward and I lightly wrap my hand around his throat.

His hazy eyes reflecting his pussy-drunk state find mine and we stare at each other while I continue my movements. I notice how Mansk’s eyes have become glossy. He must feel overwhelmed by bliss.

“You’re being so good for me.” I whisper before kissing him passionately. While I do this I pick up the pace a little and Mansk whimpers into my mouth due to the pleasure and the praise. My ears shoot forward and the noise makes me moan against him. The way I gently pressed his neck from the sides seemed to feed his lust.

Perhaps Mansk was so used to being stronger than me and more in charge that he just needed to once have the roles reversed and have someone take care of him.

He would often tell me what to do and how to do things so switching the positions had us both excited.

I start to lift myself off him every time I rocked forward and let myself glide back down when I rolled my hips back.

This seemed to really do it for Mansk.

“Feels so good-” he whines, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Without thinking, his grip on me tightens and he starts supporting my movements by pulling and pushing my hips up and down to my rhythm.

Soon enough, Mansk starts to buck his hips up into me to meet my movements and I moan his name which drives him wild.

“Shit- that’s it. Don’t stop.” I say with a hitched breath and gasping voice and he nods, never dreaming of stopping. His eyebrows are furrowed together and his eyes are fixed on where you two are connected, intently watching how all of him disappears in you with each of your harsh thrusts.

Mansk and I were now almost panting and our once-cold skin was now glistening with tiny beads of sweat.

“Y/N- “ he breathes through clenched teeth and his words wake me from my pleasured hypnosis. “I’m gonna cum.”

His voice sounds strained and I nod. “Me too,” I whisper, tightly gripping his shoulders. “Cum inside me.”

His wide-blown eyes meet mine to make sure I said what he heard.

“Please.” I add, begging him to fulfil my request.

He confirmed it in his head his dick twitched inside me.

“Fuck-” he whimpers, “ ‘M gonna fill you up.”

I nod desperately, digging my nails into the back of his strong shoulders. I was close to cumming as well.

I knew I couldn’t get pregnant if our queues weren’t bound together so we were fine. And quite frankly, I wanted to feel him deep inside me.

One of my hands moves between my legs and I start rubbing lazy circles on my clit to help me reach my high. Mansk watches, completely entranced by my movements.

Never would he have thought that seeing another person pleasure themselves would turn him on so much. And because it was you in front of him, it’s what pushed him over the edge.

I felt him tense and once I felt the first spurt of cum shoot inside me I was thrown into a state of pure bliss. My walls clenched around Mansk and it made his hips stutter and jolt forward in pleasure.

He pulled me into him again, burying his head in the crook of my neck while he helped me ride out our orgasms. I cried out his name while he groaned out mine and my hips desperately bucked into his thrusts in frantic attempts to prolong and drag out our highs.

After a minute we both simultaneously calmed down and our movements stilled. I sunk back down on him, fully seated on his lap while our heaving chests were pressed together.

My hands wrapped around his neck loosely while I pressed the side of my face against him. He really was warm now. Mansk tightened his arms around my waist and was now hugging me, making me melt against him.

“Thank you…” he whispered against my skin and I smiled tiredly against his.

“Don’t. I wanted it just as much as you.” I reply, pulling back from him so that we could look at each other. Mansk gives me a soft smile and I press our foreheads together. My fingers trace around his chest before I start to admire the luminescent speckles on his skin and on his face.

“You’re so pretty…” I mumble in adoration, stroking his head and running my hand through his short hair. His gaze softens even more and he kisses my cheek, trying to feel me as close to him as possible.

“Then that makes you a fuckin’ angel…” he replies and his answer makes me laugh. He pulls me into him further, making our warm skin press together everywhere possible. “So soft.” he mumbles, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder.

I snuggle against him and we stay still for a few minutes, just warming up and calming down in each other's embrace before my yawn reminds us of how late it probably is.

Mansk doesn’t want to let go yet so he leans off the tree behind him and lays down into the soft grass. I lay on his chest and we don’t move. He doesn’t pull out but I don’t mind. It feels oddly comforting and warm.

“Can we stay like this?” he asks, not wanting to hold you against your will.

“Yes please.” I whisper tiredly, stretching my legs before loosely draping them on either of his sides.

Our breathing is calm now and my head is resting on his chest while his arms are resting on my back, snaked around my waist.

“Can you teach me how to braid?” Mansk suddenly asks, seeming to still be in deep thought while I was slowly drifting off to sleep.

A big smile spreads along my face as I look up at him and rest my chin on his chest.

“Sure, we can do that tomorrow. While we wait for the search team to find us.” I whisper and he nods, gently rubbing calming circles onto my back.

Both of us needed this. The release, the warmth and the comfort. Especially after what happened today. As recom’s, we struggled to find comfort in ourselves so having someone else was exactly what we needed.

My body seemed to suddenly be filled with a different kind of warmth. One that he gave my heart.

Suddenly, the forest didn’t feel threatening anymore and the noises, the lights, and the fresh air felt homely.

Whether they would wake up the next day was a mystery they could only wait to find out about. But it didn’t matter to them because they were together. Perhaps they were the last of their kind.

And just like that, the two living impostrous and artificial replicas of the Na’vi fell asleep together beneath the shining stars and gently rattling leaves, of a world that wanted them dead and gone.

Tag List: @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ikranwings @numarusworld @jatwow

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stobinesque · 9 months

Text

the firmament in you ✨

For Lex’s Spicy Six Summer Challenge! Thanks again for putting this together, @thefreakandthehair! rating: T | wc: 4k | cw: Insomnia, Sleep Paralysis, Suicidal Ideation, References to past self-harm, hurt/comfort | tags: Stobin, Stargazing, Dancing, Post-Season 3 prompt: Dancing under the stars [ FIC PLAYLIST ] [ READ ON AO3 ]

Robin stares up at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars she’d stuck there when she was a kid winking back at her. The only sounds she can hear are the hum of the box fan in her window, and the rasp of cicadas beyond it. She’s resolutely refusing to turn her head to the side and face the blinking numbers of her clock taunting her.

Every time she closes her eyes, she sees smug faces leering down at her. Feels Steve’s dead—not dead, just slack, just passed out—weight strapped to her. She invents horrors that never happened.

If she keeps her eyes wide open, she only catches it in snatches and brief whispers.

Who needs sleep, anyway?

She thinks maybe the meat-monster spider should be getting more traction in the waking nightmares of her insomnia. And there are certainly times when she squeezes her eyes shut and fireworks burst behind them to a soundtrack of shrieks and groans and echoing fears. But they haunt her far less than the memory of cold fear gripping her chest when she thought, for just a moment, that she had a corpse tied to her back.

She moves to burrow herself into Steve’s side, hoping his warmth might trick her brain into thinking she’s safe.

It’s not a trick. We are safe.

There’s no way of knowing that for certain.

There’s no way of knowing anything for certain.

She rests her head on Steve’s chest and feels his heart rabbiting against her cheek. It makes her lever herself right back up to get a look at his face. She can barely see it in the darkness of the room, but the pale light of the streetlamps filtering in through her curtains is just enough to make out the way his eyes are darting back and forth beneath his eyelids. His breathing is coming in ragged pants, broken up by the occasional pained moan. Fine tremors course through him, like he’s fighting against something, but can’t actually move.

Robin’s own heart kicks up to a racing beat. Steve has spent the past couple weeks trying to explain the last two years of horror to her, and she can’t help the panicked thoughts that start running through her head. What if it’s back? What if it never left? What if it has Steve? Because apparently possession was totally on the table in their lives.

“Steve? Steve! Can you hear me? You’ve gotta wake up.”

His eyes stutter open like he’s being dragged to wakefulness. Hazel eyes stare back at her; unadulterated fear glinting in them. The small whines and groans he’d been making shift into muffled humming, like someone trying to talk through a gag. Like he’s trying to say something, but can’t form his mouth into words.

Robin is seconds away from grabbing the phone off her nightstand and calling anyone and everyone who might be able to help—wishing she had a walkie instead to radio out an all-purpose Code Red—when the dam breaks, and Steve sucks in a giant gasp of air and jerks upright like he’s surfacing from underwater.

“Steve! Steve, are you okay? Are you there?” She’s gripping his shoulder so tight that her nails are biting into flesh, but she can’t loosen her hold on him because if she lets go, he’ll float away.

“Couldn’t—” he gasps out. “Couldn’t move.” He’s nearly hyperventilating; chest heaving as he sucks in big gulps of air like he’s just been drowning. “Tied up. Frozen. I can’t—” He bites out each word like it hurts to speak. “Robs, I can’t—” He breaks off as something seems to crack in him, and collapses into her chest with a muffled sob.

“Hey, it’s alright,” she murmurs, trying to force her voice low and comforting as she wraps an arm around him. “I’ve got you.” She rocks him back and forth, gently, like she’s trying to coax a scared child back to sleep. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s all over now.”

It has the bitter taste of a lie on her tongue, but she just has to pretend that it’s true for now. Between the two of them, they can just barely afford a scrap of empty hope.

“—The kids are safe, and the gate is closed.” She knows Steve won’t really accept that until he sees everyone with his own eyes. But they’ve gotten used to telling each other these kinds of lies in the dead of night.

The band that’s been tightening around her chest snaps, and a tidal wave of exhaustion crashes over her. Sleep is all but a lost cause for the night, but they’ve each been at their wit’s end since Starcourt, and the unending turmoil of it all is finally catching up to her.

“I’m so tired,” she whispers into Steve’s hair.

“Robs.” his voice is croaky—strangled with some emotion she can’t quite place—and a calloused thumb sweeps across her cheek. She hadn’t realized she’d started crying.

“I’m tired too,” he admits. He lets out a shaky exhale. “I just want it all to be over.”

Fear catches in her throat. The way he says it makes her think he’s not just talking about the monsters and the torture. She remembers the scars she’d found littered across the skin of his thighs the other day. Remembers tracing a finger over them gently; begging him to never leave her.

The fear she felt in that moment is still lodged in her, tucked firmly behind her heart. But in the grey emptiness of the witching hour, she thinks she understands him.

“We should get out of here,” she says, not really knowing the scope of what she means when she says it.

“Where would we go?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Anywhere? Paris, maybe.”

Steve laughs, but it’s watery. “Might be hard to do on short notice.”

“Let’s just drive then. See where the road takes us.”

Steve sits up and looks at her, expression open and honest. “I mean…I’ve got the Beemer back. We could, if you wanted?”

Robin hooks her fingers through his. “Maybe just for the night?”

They sneak through the house, careful not to wake her parents. They haven’t bothered to change, so Steve’s still wearing an old marching band shirt and checked boxers; Robin, a Hawkins Swim Team shirt with a worn neck, and a pair of Steve’s sweatpants.

They pile into the car silently, Robin curling into the passenger seat, tucking her socked feet underneath her, and resting her head against the window. Through some unspoken agreement, neither of them makes a move to try to pick through Steve’s glove compartment of mixtapes. Steve just reaches over to tune the radio until he lands on something that seems to suit his mood well enough, and turns to her with a questioning tilt of his brow.

��because a vision softly creeping / left its seeds while I was sleeping / and the vision that was planted in my brain / still remains…

Robin’s breath hitches, and she turns to look at Steve, whose face is now glowing in the light of the streetlamps. His hands tighten on the wheel, and the corners of his mouth are drawn tight. She doesn’t want to ask what he saw. She thinks she can guess. Even with the whole gallery of horrors his mind has to choose from, she thinks there’s only one that would leave him paralyzed.

The song bleeds into another as Steve pulls out of her driveway, a soft bass line humming beneath a lilting guitar riff, filling up the car like it has physical presence. It leaves an ache in Robin’s chest, and she reaches out with a shaky hand, laying it palm up on the center console. Steve’s slots home a moment later.

They pull up to the quarry. The chorus of crickets and cicadas echo so loudly it’s like they’re the only sound left in the universe, even though she can still hear the music drifting like smoke from the radio (stars fade, but I linger on…)

“Here?” Robin turns to Steve with a frown. She tries not to think about them standing together at the precipice. Tries not to think about the drop. Tries not to think about how much a part of her wants it.

L ’appel du vide.

The thought scares her, and she has to force herself to back away from it.

Steve meets her gaze with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “There’s a clear view of the sky,” he says. “Thought we could stargaze.”

Robin’s face twists up into an expression she doesn’t think she could put a name to, even if she was looking in a mirror. Eyebrows scrunched, lips twitching upward. She feels some funny mix of fondness and bemusement, tangled up with love. “You wanna go stargazing?”

Steve shrugs. “Figured you’d rather see the real things.”

Robin doesn’t say anything, just stares at him. In defiance of all sense, Steve always drifts to sleep fairly quickly—his troubles are always with staying there than getting there—so she’s had no reason to think he’d noticed her tendency to go cross-eyed staring up at the stars on her ceiling.

“That…that would be great, yeah.”

Steve nods once, decisively, and turns the engine off, but leaves the car on so the radio keeps playing. Robin steps outside, wiggling her toes where she stands. She stretches them out wide; presses them down against the rough, rocky ground.

“C’mon, hop up.”

Robin jerks her head around at Steve’s voice. He’s produced a threadbare quilt from somewhere and is throwing it onto the hood of the car, before climbing up and patting the empty space next to him. Robin settles at his side and under his wing.

“So. Tell me about the stars.”

Robin looks up at him. “What do you wanna know?”

Steve shrugs, rustling her hair. “Dunno. They’re all, like, stories, right? Tell me one.”

Robin hums, considering. “Okay.” She grabs Steve’s hand, arranging his fingers so he’s pointing up at a spot in the western sky, a bit above the horizon. “See that group of stars up there? Looks kind of like two trapezoids smushed together, with little spokes coming out from the corners?”

“I…think so? Maybe?”

“It’s kind of hard to find sometimes, because there aren’t any, like, super super bright stars in it like there are in a lot of the other big constellations? Tonight’s a pretty good night for it, though, especially out here away from all the streetlights. And the new moon, too—it’s always harder to see things when the moon’s out—she’s so bright, you know?” Robin directs Steve’s hand along the constellation’s path. “If you wanna do this again some time I can bring my laser from home and help point things out to you that way.”

Steve nods against the top of her head. “I’d like that.” He lets his hand drop back down between them, but keeps their fingers entwined. “So, which one is that supposed to be?”

“Hercules,” she says. She raises their hands again to continue tracing over the constellation’s shape as she speaks. “That’s his head. And those are his legs—he’s kneeling—and sometimes people draw him with a club in that arm.”

Steve hums. “He was like…some big hero guy, right? Had to kill a bunch of monsters as, like, his job or something?”

Robin chuckles. “That’s not really what ‘labor’ means in this context, but yeah, that’s the basic gist. His whole story’s actually pretty long and complicated, though.” She rubs her thumb over the back of Steve’s hand. “Hercules—or, really, Heracles, if we’re talking Greek myth; the constellation is just named Hercules because that’s the one people know—anyway, he’s kind of cursed from the beginning. His mom gets pregnant with him after Zeus tricks her into sleeping with him, and then Hera—that’s Zeus’ wife—basically makes it her life’s mission to make sure this kid doesn’t exist, right? To the point where his mom just abandons him, because she’s so scared of what Hera might do.”

“Wait, if Zeus tricked the mom, why is Hera taking it out on the kid?”

“Great question! The actual answer is probably that the men telling these stories had really shitty opinions of women. In the context of the story, though, I think it’s supposed to be like…Hera is the queen of the gods, right? And the Olympians as a whole are a mess; they’re fucking mortals left and right, and also fucking each other indiscriminately, but at the same time they’re all, these, like, fundamentally prideful and jealous creatures? So Zeus constantly sleeping around with other people isn’t just a betrayal of Hera, it’s also humiliating to her. But what can she actually do to Zeus, right? So instead, she goes around trying to eradicate all the symbols of his infidelity.”

“That’s dumb,” Steve says. He stares up at the sky. From her vantage point Robin can’t quite make out his expression, but she thinks maybe it’s contemplative. “There’s probably a decent chance I have a half-sibling or two running around out there. And I guess it’s different, because if I don’t know about them, that means no one who would matter to my mom is likely to either. But I still can’t imagine her going out of her way to make another kid’s life miserable just because my dad fucked their mom.”

Robin’s brow wrinkles. Steve hasn’t really talked about his parents. Just told her that they usually spend summers outside of Hawkins, and otherwise carefully side-steps any allusion to the subject. The silence speaks for itself, though. Or so she thought, at least. The way he’s talking now…there’s a bitter edge to it, but he also talks about his mom like he loves her, if in a messy way. “I think…I think that, maybe, it’s easier to hurt people who can’t hurt you back.”

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything. Robin doesn’t either.

Morissey’s crooning slips out from the Beemer. I am human and I need to be loved…

“Yeah, that makes sense, I guess,” he whispers—more like he’s talking to himself than to her. “So how does the rest of it go?”

“Athena finds him, and takes him to Hera, without telling her who he is. And the irony of it all is that she’s the goddess of, like, marriage and childbirth? And since she doesn’t know who the baby is she feels bad that he got abandoned, and she ends up nursing him. But baby Hercules is already so strong that he bites her breast so hard that she spills milk all across the sky—and that’s how we got the Milky Way.” Robin brings their joined hands up again to run along the bright band of stars cutting a path through the heavens.

“…what the fuck?”

“Mythology is super fucked up, dude.”

“That feels like an understatement!”

“Yeah, well, how else would you explain the Milky Way if you didn’t know about astrophysics yet?!”

“Not with some chick’s breast milk!”

Robin purses her lips and gives an exaggerated head shake. “You just don’t appreciate the power of the female form, Harrington.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s it.” Their hands are still raised high above them, and he idly plays with her fingers. “Tell me the rest of it.”

“You are so demanding,” she scoffs, but carries on anyway. “After he accidentally creates the Milky Way—or, I guess, accidentally causes Hera to create the Milky Way? Whatever, not important. After that, Athena brings him back to his mom to raise him. Which, y’know, passes more or less uneventfully—except for him murdering his music teacher, in some retellings—”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t really get it either. It’s just kind of a blip, and then he’s passing from ‘boyhood’ to ‘manhood’ and has to make a choice about whether to follow the path of Vice or Virtue for the rest of his life.”

“Isn’t that a little late since he’s just murdered someone? Also, that seems…overly literal.”

“Yeah, well, it’s mythology. They’re all basically parables.”

“Isn’t that a type of graph?”

“No, it’s like…fables? Moral tales.”

“Sure. Okay. But that still doesn’t make sense, because it’s not like you just make a decision like that once and never get the chance to try again.”

“Well, take that up with Prodicus.”

Steve blows a raspberry, and Robin can picture him rolling his eyes in disdain.

“Do you want me to finish this story, or not? You can give your review at the end.”

Steve is silent for a beat. Squeezes her hand. “Yeah. Keep going.”

“Okay! So, he’s having trouble deciding which path to take, when these two women approach him. One claims to be ‘Happiness’—nicknamed Vice—and the other, Virtue. And each of them presents their case for why he should follow their path. Vice runs up to him first, promising a life of wealth and happiness, and freedom from hardship—”

Steve snorts.

“Have something to share with the class, Harrington?”

“You told me to wait until you were finished!”

“And yet you still interrupted me.”

“What, so I’m not allowed to make sounds?”

“Not like that!”

Steve shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable! Keep telling me your little parabola, then.”

Robin rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh. “Vice promises him untold riches and blah blah blah, and then Virtue comes up and tells him that there are no good things in life to be had without hard work and sacrifice, and that following her path is the only way his memory will be honored and immortalized in death.”

Steve lets out a small disapproving sound. “And? Which does he pick?”

“He picks Virtue, just like any good hero, right?” Robin’s goading him intentionally now, but it’s worth it for the way he actively works to stifle a groan of annoyance. “Anyway, then he starts going on various adventures as a big hero man. He helps defend a city against an invasion, and the king is like ‘here, marry my daughter’ as a reward.”

“Yikes.”

“Very. But the two of them end up being pretty happy together. They get a house, have lots of children. Happily ever after, right?”

“Something tells me the answer to that question is gonna be ‘no.’”

“Yeah, because Hera’s still obsessed with getting revenge. So she induces this, like, godly madness in him, which drives him to kill his wife and kids—”

“What the fuck!!”

Robin shrugs. “Like I said, Greek Mythology, man. Anyway, that’s how we get to the part of the story most people know: Heracles goes to the Oracle of Delphi and asks how he can atone for what he’s done, and that’s how we end up with the Twelve Labors of Heracles/Hercules.”

“Absolutely none of that made any sense. Why would going around killing a bunch of monsters make up for killing his entire family? Especially when it wasn’t even really in his control? Also, if this is how he ends up with his name getting immortalized or whatever, how is that any better than just choosing vice? He didn’t actually really sacrifice anything! His family did! If the way you get to have honor or glory or whatever is by killing your loved ones—even if you ‘atone’ for it later—how does getting those things make you any better than the person who chose happiness?”

“All great questions, young Padawan,” Robin says, affecting an exaggerated, sagely tone. “To answer the first one: arguably, it isn’t. The Oracle was basically working for Hera and sent Hercules to offer ten years of servitude to a king who hated him. As for the others: I don’t know, something to think on, I guess. But. It’s not like Hercules knew he was going to lose his family. And Vice’s path hinges on exploiting others.”

“I don’t know, it just sounds like either way you spin it he’s choosing a path based on what he thinks it’ll get him.”

“I think the way the Greeks thought about morality is probably different from how we do now.”

Steve makes a sort of disgruntled sound. “I guess that makes sense.” He sighs and presses his face into her shoulder. “So, tell me how these ‘labors’ go, then.”

She does, launching into dramatic retellings of Hercules slaying the Nemean Lion and the Hydra; capturing the Minotaur and the Erymanthian Boar; stealing Hesperides’ golden apples, and King Diomedes’ mares.

The music from the radio keeps playing in the background, a strange sort of backing track. Robin hasn’t been playing close attention to the songs as they roll through—just enough to notice that whoever’s in charge of the late-night programming has been doing the musical equivalent of throwing spaghetti at walls. It suits them, though. She’s halfway through regaling Steve with Hercules’ capture of Cerberus when conscious awareness of the music knocks into her by way of Steve bopping along to the opening bars of “Dancing in the Moonlight.”

He’s up and off the hood of the car before she can say anything.

“Steve!” she yells in protest as he yanks at her arm for her to join him. “I wasn’t done!”

“You can finish later! We’re not going to pass up the opportunity to literally dance in the moonlight when the universe decrees it, Bobbin!”

“There’s no moonlight tonight, dingus!”

“Starlight, then,” he says, shimmying his shoulders at her with a wide smile on his face.

And Robin is a lot of things, but immune to the delight of one Stephen Richard Harrington is not one of them. He starts doing a little swaying and snapping number, beckoning her to join him.

This was how the early seeds of their friendship were planted. Dancing to Dolly and Madonna as they mopped the floor; yelling and laughing together as they worked. It’s easy to slip back into. Into that space where Robin was just starting to see the first glimmers of who Steve Harrington could be—who he is. That time when she started to suspect that—maybe, just maybe—he could be something like a friend to her. Before they were SteveandRobin, sure, but also before they were trapped in a metal box with two kids they’d led into danger. Before Steve was bloodied and bruised for information he didn’t have. Before Robin learned that monsters were real, and the Russians were punching holes through reality to try to reach them. A time when—for once in Robin’s life—it felt like there was moonlight in the darkness of her life.

So she dances. Shoulders swaying, and feet tapping. Hips bumping with Steve’s. Lets him twirl her under his arm like he did in her kitchen last week while teaching her how to make the best grilled cheese sandwich of her life.

She smiles, and she laughs, and for a moment she forgets about heroes, and monsters, and gods.

Her cheeks are aching from smiling so hard, and even though it’s a short song, she’s panting with exertion by the end. It trails off into the night air, and Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” fades into place.

This time she extends her hand to him, pulling Steve into her arms. She’s never been that great a dancer—clumsy, and awkward, with limbs that won’t heed her command—but she’d dragged her father to a father-daughter dance thing during the handful of years she was a Girl Scout, and she’d picked up some basics. Enough to know how to lead in a dance without structure.

Steve follows without comment, making himself smaller so he can tuck himself in against her. It actually makes it a little harder to steer them without occasionally stepping on Steve’s feet, but she takes it as the unspoken request to be held that it is, and she dances in the starlight with her best friend. Feels it sparkling through him.

She knows the constellations that dot his skin, the streaks and starbursts of light of his scars, and his nebulae of bruises. The stories written on his skin are just as mythic—just as full of heroism—and all the beautiful contradictions those things entail. And she hopes he knows it. Hopes that she can show him someday.

Notes:

This fic is in the same universe as my other Stobin-centric Summer Challenge fic, which you can read here, and to my Steve-centric fic lay your cuts and bruises over you skin, which can be read on AO3 here. I'm including this at the end since this fic works just fine as a standalone :) Also, my Classical Studies major partner feels it is imperative that I point out that Robin's description of myth vs. parable vs. fable is inaccurate. These are each distinct categories of stories, and not all of them have or are meant to have a moral. (She's right. Don't believe everything fictional teenagers say when explaining complicated concepts to other fictional teenagers :P )

taglist of people who have requested snippets of this as I worked on it! @devondespresso @theheadlessphilosopher @delta-piscium @steves-strapcollection @bifuriouswaterbender @spicysix @inairbinad and @starryeyedjanai. thanks for all the encouragement, pals!

#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #stobin #platonic stobin #stobin fic #stranger things #read writes #me last week: this fic is gonna be 3k. max.#me now: 🤡#(at least i was only off by 1k this time)#also in case anyone is wondering i did indeed look up #the moon cycle and star chart for indiana in 1985 #for the day this is set on in my head

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aut189 · 3 months

Text

Your prompt:

Shawn: WHY. why did you give Lassiter a KNIFE?!

Juliet: I'm sorry. They said they felt unsafe.

Shawn: Now I feel unsafe!

Juliet: I'm sorry.

Juliet : ... would you like a knife?

Your prompt:

Shawn: If Gus and I were drowning, who would you save?

Lassiter: You two can't swim?

Shawn: It's a hypothetical question, Lassiter! who would you save?

Lassiter: my time and effort.

Your prompt:

Shawn: They stole from me first!

Juliet : Mhm.

Shawn: Stole my heart...

Lassiter: It is still illegal to commit murder.

Your prompt:

Shawn: How's the sexiest person here~?

Juliet: I don't know, how are they~?

Shawn, flustered: I-

Lassiter, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

Your prompt:

Shawn: Lassiter, my old arch enemy.

Declan : ... I thought I was your arch enemy?

Shawn: I have a life outside of you, Declan.

Your prompt:

Shawn: I CAN'T DO IT!

Gus, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER!

Shawn: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE

Jules: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.

Shawn:

Shawn: I appreciate it, Shawn: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-

Lassiter : Shawn-

Shawn: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!

Despereaux: Shawn we gotta-Shawn: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.

Shawn: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Shawn, motioning to Karen: NOT FUCKING THIS

Your prompt:

Shawn: I'm kind of crushing on someone, but I'm worried about telling you who it is, because you're not going to like it Juliet: Just rip the bandage off.

Shawn: It's Lassiter.

Juliet: Put the bandage back on.

Your prompt:

Gus: Why are your tongues purple?

Lassiter: We had slushies. I had a blue one.

Shawn: I had a red one.

Gus: oh

Gus: OH

Juliet :

Juliet: You drank each other's slushies?

Your prompt:

Shawn: That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!

Gus: To the city?

Shawn: Yeah, no matter what!

Buzz: Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?

Shawn: I... I don't know!

Juliet: Oh come off it, be serious!

Shawn: I am serious!

Juliet: You're insane!

Lassiter: Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!

Everyone:

Shawn: What???

Lassiter: Or maybe it was a basset hound!

Juliet, panicked: YOU'RE ALL INSANE!

Your prompt:

Shawn: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?

Juliet : Rude.

Lassiter: That's fair.

Gus: Not again.

Buzz: Are you going to want this back?

Your prompt:

Shawn: We need to get through this locked door. Juliet, give me your credit card.

Juliet : Here.

Shawn, pocketing it: Thanks.

Lassiter, kick down the door.

Your prompt:

Shawn: Lassiter, can I talk to you for a second?

Lassiter: Yeah, what's up? Lemme guess. You and Pierre are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss?

Shawn: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I've read books.

Your prompt:

Shawn: Hey Pierre, Pierre: Yes?

Shawn: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it's on?

Pierre:

Pierre: Where's Lassiter?

Your prompt:

Shawn: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10?

Strive for greatness.

Pierre: Next time you're working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex's house down. You can do it. I believe in you.

Lassiter: There were so many mixed messages in that I can't-

Your prompt:

Shawn: Pierre, what do IDK, LY, and TTYL mean?

Pierre: I don't know, love you, talk to you later

Shawn: Ok, I love you too, I just ask Lassiter.

Your prompt:

*The squad is having dinner together*

Shawn: Pierre, can you pass the salt?

Pierre: *Throws Lassiter across the table*

Your prompt:

Shawn: You have to apologize to Pierre

Lassiter: Fine.

Lassiter: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

Your prompt:

Lassiter: *Gets down on one knee* Pierre: Oh my god, it's finally happening.

Lassiter: *Falls over*

Pierre: The poison is kicking in.

Your prompt:

Shawn: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?'

Shawn: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

Your prompt:

Lassiter, threatening the others with a paintball gun: Listen... Life comes at us fast. We don't know what life is gonna give us... And today, it's gonna give you... a paintball!

Your prompt:

Lassiter: If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then have the gods strike me down where I stand.

*Lightning strikes Lassiter*

Lassiter: Ha! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game!

Your prompt:

Lassiter: Some of you may die, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

Your prompt:

Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like

Lassiter*

Lassiter: Okay, are you like BLIND?

You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10.

#shassie incorrect quotes #incorrect psych quotes #shawn spencer #carlton lassiter #psych #shassie fic #Shassie #juliet o'hara #burton gus guster #buzz mcnab #despereaux #pierre despereaux #karen vick #messed up quotes

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x-authorship-x · 11 months

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How are we not talking about the most obvious thing if Shisui is the Hufflepuff champion in the fourth book? The second challenge?? SHISUI HAVING TO GO TO THE BOTTOM OF A LAKE TO RESCUE SOMEONE HE CARES ABOUT??? WATER EVERYWHERE AROUND HIM??? I'm screaming

(And Ino as the one he has to rescue, maybe? 😏)

Omg we're all idiots THE LAKE TASK AHHHHHH

Okay so yes Ino is Shisui's hostage, everyone better hold onto their tits because it's about to get apocalyptic in here.... So how does Shisui do this task?

I wanna say he water walks for a bit, using point-me, and then he has this horrible moment where he's staring into the water beneath his feet and it's dark and murky and Ino is down there, possibly drowning even though logically she can't be, and shisui is freaking the fuck out but he's also frozen in terror and he's getting more and more worked up and he just... Explodes into action, there's water going everything, it's like a god-damned bomb went off, he's struggling to swim as fast as possible and freaking out through the bubble head charm and oh my GOD there's another little girl down here WHAT THE FUCK and Harry is waiting already and he's torn too and then Krum arrives looking like a fucking SHARK and shisui and harry agree to grab all three hostages, they get close to the surface and suddenly harry seems to be choking, Shisui freaks the FUCK out and drags him into his bubblehead charm so they're gasping for air close enough for their mouths to almost touch and it's panicking and hoooooooly shit and-

Joint first place :3

(ino wakes up and starts SCREAMING at the judges, she completely awes Gabrielle, and Fleur takes her under her wing)

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #shisui #shisui x harry #shisui harry potter #hp au #hp naruto #hufflepuff shisui #Slytherin ino #shisui nii and ino imouto #ino lovegood #ino and luna are twins #heir shisui black #shisui is regulus's son

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factorialsfandoms · 2 years

Text

I’m now behind on whumptober, but there’s a few days in a row now inspiring my brain. One of which was yesterday, but then I realised I’d never poked Wind much which is a shame, and /maybe/ I shouldn’t have tried getting to know him watching Time get tortured but, well, here we are.

Also I was reading both notes on how the CIA waterboard people and guidance for nurses working with victims and that’s fucked up! Time is getting the long end of the stick *either* because Wind is panicking and so counting too fast, or because these random ne’er-do-wells are awful people. Which is also true! Have fun I guess??? It starts most of the way through the torture because um no

angst with a happy ending

prompt: waterboarding

CWs: torture, choking, kidnapping

... But Wind gets to threaten people with a sword...?

34, 35, 36... Wind breathed a sigh of relief as water stopped being poured over Time's face, the cloth covering his eyes, nose, and throat pulled away for a moment. The old man's chest heaved as he spluttered for air, but heave it did. Time. There was still time. Time for Time; Wind suppressed a half-hysterical giggle as he continued manipulating the ropes on his wrists. The one positive - the only positive - of the torture they were putting Time through was how their captors were distracted. 3 breaths later and the cloth was back, another second and the water began to pour too, Time choking and fighting against his own bonds like a dying man. Like a man who knew he was drowning - to every instinct he likely was. Wind tried not to think about how long this had been going on, or how even for panicked breaths his gasps sounded /wrong/. Instead he focused on counting the seconds and unpicking the rope. ...10, 11, 12... Just a little more; he was not a pirate for nothing! Tetra has taught him well, and part of that was how to manage all sorts of escapes and daring deeds. ...18, 19, 20... It also included how to torture information from someone - just incase they were ready to resist if they were caught. With how long this had been going on, Tetra would have forgiven any information slipped as not worth the health of her crew, only scolded herself for being so slow. ...29, 30, 31... He was pretty sure they had passed the number of repetitions likely to case damage some time ago, though he was struggling to keep track. The number of seconds was more important, and easier to keep track of both. ...35, 36, 37... Wind finally, after nearly half an hour of patient struggling while his friend was /tortured in front of him/, slipped the knott. Already he wanted to sob, certainly he wanted to run over there and stop all this, to grab Time and drag him away and get his Hero's lungs checked out. Instead he waited for those few agonising breaths Time was permitted to pass, biding his time to act once again. The kidnappers were stupid; they hadn't even blindfolded the pair, let alone checked them for hidden weapons. Idiots. Incompetent kidnappers who just seemed to be torturing Time for the power trip now, but knew how to do it none the less. The water bucket was refilled, the cloth pulled back, and torture began once more. With everything he had Wind suppressed what he was seeing, counting it out. 1. 2. 3. Wind slowly shifted to draw his knife. 4. 5. 6. Careful to make no noise he raised himself up. 7. 8. 9. Patience, patience... 10. He threw himself across the room, knocking hard into the person with the bucket. Water spilt everywhere but on Time's face as he tackled the man three times his size to the ground, twisting his arms back and binding them before the other man had chance to react. The other man had a weapon, but so had Wind; he ducked under the sword swing, stabbing the emergency knife deep into the man's thigh. He dropped his sword and Wind grabbed it, using it as a clear threat as he ripped the cloth from Time's face. Still keeping the sword pointed at their captors, Wind used his now bloody knife to cut the bonds tying Time to the table. When he did not move, noting but the heaving of his chest as he coughed, Wind's heart picked up in fear; still wary he shunted Time with his shoulder until the Old Man was lying on his side. Another couple of heaving coughs and water was hurled up and out of Time's lungs. One of the men tried to move; Wind slammed the sword into the ground beneath his fingers. "Don't," he hissed, hiding the tremble of his terrified being wrapped in spit. Maybe the men had some sense; they stopped moving. Behind him, Time had finally stopped choking. Carefully, Wind backed up, coming to stand beside him. Time's eyes were hazy, but they did find their way to Wind. "Can you walk?" The answer was obviously no, but Time stumbled to his feet. An arm wrapped over Wind's shoulders, leaving heavily for support despite the angle. It would do; Wind turned his attention back to the men. "We're leaving now." Neither followed them as Wind backed up, doing his best to pay attention, to walk backwards, and to keep Time from falling. Somehow it worked. Weird. He'd been pretty sure it would fail. The two of them made it just beyond the walls of the building before Time slumped further, his weight knocking Wind to the ground. The old man was still desperately gasping for air and coughing intermittently - he needed a fucking doctor - but all Wind could do was ease him to his knees. And then... Wind had to try not to panic. He still had the sword and a knife, and it would have to do. One in each hand he tried to ignore the sounds of Time trying - and failing - to catch his breath, desperately hoping it was psychological and he hadn't damaged himself fighting uselessly. A movement from the bushes. Wind twisted, pointing the sword that way. A moment later, a familiar snout poked out, followed by a dark blur that twisted running wolf to running man. Twilgiht eyed Wind's new sword; when Wind dropped it he made the rest of the way to Time's side, helping position him better. The coughing eased, but his breathing was still terrifyingly heavy. "Needs a doctor," was all Wind could manage - Twilgiht was here now, they'd be okay now, it'd all be okay. "There's one closer than camp, just this way," Legend followed up behind Twilight, Pegasus boots and power gloves on. "Rancher? Get your Old Man. Wind, it's a piggy back I'm afraid." Oh. Oh good. Someone was taking control. Wind obeyed the instructions without complaint - earning him an incredibly worried look - slotting himself onto Legend's back. By the time he was up there, Time was carefully positioned in Twilight's arms, and Four had also arrived. Okay. Okay. They'd be fine now. With that realisation, the shields around Wind's brain collapsed. His eyes widened, the pain in his self-dislocated hands registered, and he let a scream out into Legend's back. They were safe now. The Rancher and The Veteran would know what to do - and the Smithy would make sure they did it. They'd be okay. It was going to be okay. Terror swept back over Wind's mind. Safe among his family, he permitted it to drag him under as his own breathing picked up to match Time's own, desperate gasps. The reassuring squeeze to his knees was not nearly enough to comfort it. The sensation of Legend's hips moving as he and Twilight both ran towards town... Did only a little bit better. They were safe now, and being safe meant letting the panic get felt too. And so Wind did.

#whumptober2022 #fanfic #lu fanfic #lu wind #lu time #mostly what I'm working on is trying to the explaining chapter of odaahfc #but um #dialogue tricky atm try again later #on a different hormone balance #atm is for hyjacking #torture tw #violence tw #everyone will be fine probably #time's probably sick for a week or so though oops #choked so much he fucked his lungs despite no water going in them!#this is what we call horrifying #don't do torture its mean

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goremet-chef · 9 months

Text

me feeling guilty for not saving someone in my dream like i

if i knew what was going on i wouldve got him im so sorry man if it happened too fast and i shouldve known i shouldve called out or grabbed him but i just panicked and ran and he fucking died because of me

i know i shouldnt be so upset, it was only a dream, but

my dreams are very vivid, and it doesnt help that like. when im stressed, i dissociate, and my brain tends to wander to the worst possible scenario, and itll stick. i find it really really hard to pull myself out of it because to me, what happens in my head seems just as real, maybe even MORE real than what happens irl

so even if its been hours since the stressful event, i might still be just as stressed (maybe even more stressed) because im stuck in a "what if" scenario that will play itself out fully and its hard to shake it off

that happened in my dream, something bad happened at our highschool and even after i escaped and ran to my friends house, i was in her house and crying and begging for her help because i could still hear the screams and shit even though i was far away and safe

i think THATS what really fucked with me, my brain playing off of my own trauma response and applying it to my dreams just made it so real, cuz yeah i am stuck in horrible events typically, any time they happen im stuck there even after they end, stuck in a spiral of what couldve happened if things got worse you feel me?

even after im awake and its been several hours i still feel that same dread, its making it hard to breathe

the worst part? the dream was so good at first. i was friends with a youtuber i watch and we went to school together and i sat with his friends on the first day cuz he invited me and they were accepting of me being trans and i fit right in immediately as one of the guys. i was so happy man. it felt so fucking good to just be seen as i am, for someone to be EXCITED to know me, even if i was new

its something i struggle with constantly, i just never really fit in no matter where i go. even when i make friends, and things seem to be going great, ill second guess myself and step away. ill perceive rejection where there isnt any and ill assume they dont want me around, etc. its a never ending cycle of me being unable to keep anything good, its so.

AGGRAVATING it suck ass. sometimes its not even me! i know i say this a lot but i mean it genuinely when i say that normal people find me offputting and weird immediately. there is no second guessing, there is no oh maybe ill get to know him, NO. i freak people out with my mannerisms alone, and its really sad. i didnt have hardly any friends in highschool since i moved from my hometown to go, i made a total of 4 over the course of 3 years, and of those 4, 3 moved away. my last year was the saddest loneliest thing ever, all my teachers thought i was depressed and thought i wanted to kill myself so they were all nice to me and checking on me. it was so humiliating? to be so isolated that people NOTICE yr isolated

nevermind when i started hallucinating, that was soo great 😁 really loved that era /s

my life has been drowned out with such a profound loneliness that i dont even know where to start to combat it. it hurts my heart to think about it. to think about the jealousy and embarrassment i felt for the longest time when i realized my closest friends, my ONLY friends, had friends outside of me. that no matter what, even in a group as weird as us, id be the weirdest and i wouldnt be as charming as them, i couldnt keep a conversation like them and so all i had was them

now i do have other friends, but its still.. i dont know how to talk. and i know i make posts like this every once and a while but i guess im just? im a very low maintenance friend i guess. if we're friends, i will always like you. if we dont fall out in some sort of way, i will always hold you close to my heart. even if we dont talk much, i still love you

i dont really know how to like? ENGAGE i struggle with engaging. im alone all the time so i just talk about myself and my things in my own channel, i live through my characters most of my day. i feel like i might be a bad friend? as much as i like to insist i can handle someone and i know what its like to feel rejection and shit cuz of bpd, i think im still not good. i dont know how to engage with someone, i wanna have a meaningful conversation but if its not about my stuff, im bad at responding. i care!! i swear i do, i just dont know how to make that super clear, cant ask questions cant do any of that i just try to make it clear that i want to hear more yknow? i guess im just used to talking nonstop to myself so i just figure thats how other people like to have conversations too, but i think im wrong

idk it sucks. my heart is heavy today. im gonna try and draw cuz i want to but theres just so many things. im stressed, is all

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cold-arrow · 11 months

Text

Doctor’s Notes, Book 6 part 14

| Stone’s throw away from… | Summary, Things of note since last entry:

on our way to Lorkh, following the trail what remains of the city.

sneaking up to the one of significance readying an assault. first to act, first to fall bearing blows from all sides. Fell into stone

frontline fighters, backing up with support. within an inch, downfall of the dwarf and the do…

last man standing. Panicked retreat. choices. lack of options. Fortunate reserve.

Shaken.

Back to Orlbar, for a verdant vision. stone towers, stacked impossibly high.

Bleating. Meditation, negotiation? Conversation. riddles, through a lack of speech. Charades.

The Giant Lich, Annam. The path. deciding from there.

The dragon and the roc

| 1 / 7 | after resting for the night we have most definitely lost sight of the stone giants. Though at the very least we should still be able to follow their tracks, without too much issue hopefully.

Incase we fight anymore giant wielding arcane magic, ive decided to protect myself from necromantic energies, and enchanted my armour. It required some of the resources and abjurative runes that I’d inscribed on Omrick shield before, but hopefully it should come in handy… for a lot of reasons.

I offered if anybody else would perhaps be interested in being protected, for such a thing. Especially for when whatever is now chasing Lym, finally catches up to her. But they thought it best if I maybe took the extra defence myself. Which, to be fair, the others are quite resilient. Either through their armour. Fortitude. Or magical healing. While I’m kind of lacking in all those regards, so I guess they’re right.

| 2 / 7 |

…

I should have prepared more. I … half expected of perhaps running into the giants that we had been tracking. But once we found out where their tracks lead, and how many of them there were… Things did not go well.

I… need help. I… uhm… I died As I felt the light fade, I… could see… Or feel HER welcoming me with open arms. Reaching out for me. To Suffocate me. Strangle me. Smother me. Drown me. I tried running away. Out of her reach. But all her arms and hands were catching up. And…

Before they could grab a hold of me. I saw a thread. A small bit of colour in the darkness. I Instinctively reached out for it. Looked to see where it led, and saw pin prick of light, Far away above me. If… I had hesitated, or hadn’t grabbed it, I don’t thin like… a spider desperately climbing it’s way back up, to try and avoid the flooding darkness below, from swallowing it whole…

I… no. Lym, pulled me out. She saved me.

Though I… I can still see HER face. Her cacophony of laughter, and whispering trying to drive me mad, or insane for every second I was…

I didn’t sleep that night.

Nor the one after. I don’t think the others noticed. But… I don’t think im okay? If im alright after that? I’m trying to smile through it. But Every Single Thing, Keeps haunting my thoughts. Unfinished business. Promises. People. Mistakes. Problems HER…

I Need To Do Something.

| 3 / 7 |

As for what exactly happened in Lorkh, once we arrived, at wat was left of the town. We could see the giants, picking it apart. Tossing stones into the river, from every building. And getting rid of everything else that wasn’t made of stone. When we arrived there wasn’t much left of Lorkh, just a corner of city. A few ruins of houses. And the skeleton of a cathedral, only barely still standing. Despite the several holes that punctured through it’s sunken walls.

There were at least 3 or 4 giants picking apart the buildings. Alive ones at least. As well as three undead ones, standing guard. Their large hulking figures, idly decaying where the stood. But not yet dead. Simply undying. One of the giants in particular seemed to be doing something. Overlooking the operation? , and… working on something in the cathedral? She seemed to be the one in charge, and would most likely be the largest theat. So we all us quickly agreed that, if we were to deal with these giants, we’d have to deal with her first.

We luckily managed to sneak up on cathedral (or what was left it) from the other side of town, without being spotted. (even though I nearly tripped multiple times, on some of the hundreds of loose rocks now littering the ground.) However, upon arriving at the church’s walls, we weren’t really sure how to proceed from there.

We manged to make it inside, and got a slightly closer look at what the female stone giant was doing. Though… im still not really sure what. She was somehow… scooping the stone from out of the floor and pillars, like it was… clay? Forming them into little dough balls, before tossing some of them aside. before heading to the other side of the cathedral and continuing her work.

We hesitated for a bit, not really sure how to tackle them. It ended up, with either Omrick charging in first, if the giant got close enough. Or Aldrin being the one to head in first. Taking one of my invisibility potions, and simply initiating?

We were waiting for some sort of signal, to start. but weren’t really sure when. And it ended up with Lym being the one, who started the fight, summoning a massive pillar of divine flames upon the female giant.

But as soon as she did... The giant snapped around, and hurled two of these stone disks, or some sort of objects at her. Crashing into her. And crushing her against the wall. Causing her to fall… Within mere seconds of the fight we were already down one. Which, didn’t bode well.

| ---

It took quite some effort. but we managed to bring the female giant down first, who at least seemed to be the leader. It took a lot of our strength though. And she nearly managed to flee… But we brought her down.

However the all the other giants throughout the town, had made their way over as well. And we were pretty much outnumbered.

I quickly managed to heal Lym, and bring her back to her feet. Or… so I thought at least? One moment she was there. And then… she suddenly somehow fell into the floor… Swallowed, by the stone. I was confused, and panicked a bit. Worried that one of the other stone giants might have done something. It wasn’t until later that I realized, that it was thanks / due to her own magic. And that she had used it to hide, and recover for a moment.

Aldirn and Omrick fought off the other giants the best they could. Being the ones largely responsible for not only bringing the leader, but the other giants and the hulking zombies as well.

But not without sustaining some severe wounds and grievous injuries in the process. Even after Lym joined us for the fight again. We had to Struggle, to keep ourselves, and the others alive. Passing out multiple times. And trying to undo some of the damage that the giants inflicted upon us. But all their blows were simply too much to just heal. By the time half of their numbers had finally fallen. We were all barely standing ourselves.

Until… we weren’t all still standing. Even with only a handful of giants left, Omrick and Aldrin were still trying their best to fend them off. But they had surrounded Omrick. He kept parrying their blows. Dodging and bracing himself the best he could. But after one too many, he didn’t get up. And they didn’t let him either. Making sure he stayed down, before focussing on Aldirn next.

I… tried healing them the best I could. But… I should have done more. Should have been better about using my supplies. Should have kept better cover from them. We could still revive him. But for that we still needed to be alive ourselves.

Things got worse from there… we managed to kill another, but there were still three left. And Aldirn wasn’t looking to good. Neither was I. Or lym. She had used up most of her magic already. And after we suffered one too many blows. She made the decision to retreat into the walls. To hopefully recover. Or do something. Or… pray for a miracle. ( just hopefully not one, at the expense of herself. ) But in the time that she had gone into the wall, she fortunately wasn’t there to witness… when one of the giant zombies came up to me. And struck me down. Or… I think that might have been the part we’re she retreated actually. I’m not really sure.

But afterwards it had picked me up, and tried to eat me… --- From what the other told me, Aldrin managed to cut down the giant before it could. But more impressive than that… Aldrin managed to singlehandedly, take down the three remaining giants by himself.

For they weren’t without their fair share of wounds either, that they’d already sustained as well. But… still. He somehow fought off Three giants by himself, until he was the only one still standing.

It took a moment for Lym to realize that the battle was over. The miracle she might have prayed for, unable to reach. And they were left with 2 bodies. Omrick’s, and mine…

| 4 / 7 | I don’t really want to go into more detail about what happened after I’d died. They had to make the tough, and horrible decision to revive me, instead of Omrick first. Because they either didn’t have the magic, or the resources to revive us both.

Fortunately. I still had a backup. Some reserve that I’d saved up, several months back. I took the Ioun stone, that had fallen and rolled to floor. And after taking out the healing potion I’d stored inside, containing the diamond necessary to bring him back. I made sure that thanks to both Lym and me, All of us were standing after the fight. And brought back Omrick.

I… couldn’t help but still hear the echoing madness of her laughter. Her whispers. Even after I was brought back. Like… I could still see her image, her shadow. Her Ever watching eyes, Everywhere I looked. Hiding behind every corner, or shadow, or… I tried to drive her out of head. Out of mind with most of my remaining willpower. Trying not to acknowledge the thought of HER in any way. Making myself busy with looting the giants we just fought. There still wasn’t any trace of why exactly the they were here. What they were doing. Or why. Nor any leads on where they’d come from. Of where there stronghold was. So after taking their loot, and gems, and gold, and random crap. We left Lorkh, or what remained of it.

Not planning on returning any time soon.

| 5 / 7 | didn’t sleep. Just laid in my bedroll all night, until it was my turn to keep watch. Just took some extra medication the following morning. At least the last night or two have been quiet. Uneventful. Thank the gods. Made sure to keep up my energy up with additional supplements. But I need to sleep. However closing my eyes to rest feels…uncomfortable, I

Managed to get some sleep somehow. The others haven’t really commented on anything yet. Either they havn’t noticed. Or I’ve just able to keep up the… keep up pretty well. Though, to be fair. All of us are probably somewhat shaken after the encounter. Omrick seems relatively fine? It… wasn’t his first time… but still. Might ask him about it at somepoint. If I can bring up the...

Omrick shared with us, a vision that he had, a few days ago. About something being there, if we were to return to Orlbar. in about a week or so? When we first checked where the town was supposed to be, there was nothing. Just rocks. No traces of any giants, besides that really. -- Though I do wonder what me might find when we get there. Or if something will have actually even changed. I don’t want necessarily doubt him, but I’ve never really seen, or ever heard much of Shaunteia Besides perhaps his divine powers? Or… at least, not as much as compared to Lym. And the Weave. Or would that be an unfair comparison? I don’t know. I am curious to see when we arrive.

| 6 / 7 |

It is Quite the change. Even from afar, we could see all of the stone towers, reaching for the sky. Like, they had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. They… were most definitely not here before atleast. There must be dozens of them. And the most curious part, is that they are just regular stones, and boulders. And rocks. Just stacked up on one another, in a nigh impossible display of gravity. Just a single column. Or stack. Defying gravity. Some must be 20, or maybe even 30 feet high.

Touching them would definitely be a bad idea. I… would almost certainly get crushed by them.

* Hmmm, I… am not one hundred percent sure as to their purpose, but as far as I can tell, they don’t seem magical, or ritualistic in nature? Just…. Decoration.

As we were observing some of the stone pillars, the sound of some kind of beast or animal startled us. Pulling our attention away from the towers, and to somewhere farther beyond them. We were a bit hesitant, worried as to whether the ones responsible for building stacking these, might still be around.

But the sound we heard, turned out to be bleating. And the shepherd herding these Sheep , was still around. The creator, of these stone towers, was still around.

In the field ahead. was a stone giant. surrounded by sheep. intently focussing, on the stone tower that he was making, in front of him. Having sat down in almost meditative pose to do so. -- Aldrin was the one who worked up the courage to talk to him. None of us were really sure whether just straight up attacking the giant, would achieve anything. And we all were at least somewhat curious as Why, he was making these.

But, we didn’t get a lot of answers. For the giant didn’t speak. he greeted us curiously, confused as to why we were here. But without words. Using some form of sign language to try and comminate with us. But we only got or understood bits and pieces. With my rather broken understanding of signing, I tried to convey some things, the best I could. But… it wasn’t much. None of us really know how to… deal? Or communicate, or ask the possibly mute giant anything. So we simply stood there for a bit. Trying to figure out what to do. How to ask. He didn’t seem to have any intention of harming us, at least. And if he could perhaps point us in the right direction, as to where we might find the stone giant stronghold might, it would safe us a lot of trouble. But the question remained as to How, we would do that, or ask. If he even was willing to help.

While racking our brains trying to think of something, on what to do, none of us immediately noticed that Lym had instead clasped her hands for a small prayer.

But all of us could FEEL something, when she had finished. When she Spoke in a language that we’d never heard her speak before. But had heard oh so often during out travels. Our encounters. And I could almost Swear, that I saw these iridescent threads, almost ethereal in nature, Around her. Connect with her, and… imbue her?

all of us were dumbfounded, when she suddenly spoke giant. Even the stone giant himself ofcourse, since our previous attempts at communicating with him were…. rudimentary at best. But we’d definitely piqued is curiosity. And after Lym had said, or asked something, he suddenly started drawing in the sand/earth beneath him.

After a very… Arduous and long charades session, we did manage to learn a few things. ( I think)

\Trying to figure out, as to what exactly he was drawing in the sand wasn’t particularly easy. Even with the help of Lym translating for us. But I think we got the general gist of things.

Deadstone cleft is under control of Stone Giant Lich (which we kind of new already from the prophecies)

The stone giant lich was cursed by Annam?

And has been resurrecting undead giants

She taught other giants how to do so as well

He’s afraid of going back himself

And lastly, have gave us some direction as to where we could find the stronghold. Explaining that we’d have to follow the path up there river, the middle one of the three converging streams, and continue from there.

And after that, he simply bid us farewell. Taking his sheep with him, as we went our separate ways.

The question now however is, what we should do next. Aldrin told us that Lady Silverhand had left us some supplies in Loudwater. Including diamonds. But it’s probably going to take more than a week to even get back.

Is that worth the time? Cause on the other hand, I’m not entirely sure if we should be head to Deadstone Cleft, to face the stone giant lich, without diamonds either. Considering…. A lot of things.

I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to decide somewhat soon though. For the dead can wait a lot longer than the living…

| 7 / 7 |

Also of note, Apparently Zyra had encountered a Roc during her scouting mission. When Lym initially told me, I wasn’t really that concerned. Zyra is quite the formidable dragon after all. But after she asked what exactly Rocs were, and while looking at some of my notes, to try and remember some of my research. They uhm… they can be quite problematic. “It is said that Annam created the rocs, so that he would have an army to rival the dragons. He wanted airborne soldiers that might one day take over the world – and eventually the realms.

After the war however, the rocs were free to roam the world as they pleased. Their rivalry with dragons more or less ended in favour of other prey – as dragons were equal adversaries who weren’t that easy to take on.

A roc is a can grow to be a Gargantuan creature… can have a wing span of up around 100 feet. It can grow to be up to 30 feet tall… which is about the height, or size of a two-story building.”

After that Lym informed Zyra to be careful. And last I heard, she was sleeping or resting, to recover from the fight. Hopefully she’ll be alright. ** hmmm, perhaps she can help us with getting back to Loudwater a bit quicker? If possible | End of entry |

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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years

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Gal Masterlist - Silco

Masterlist of all Silco fics on my blog, my shrine of simping and thirst, complied into one post that took me WAY too long to make.

May expand to other characters if requested. Each fic has it's own warning-list, and reminder that this blog is 18+ only, Minors DNI

Unless otherwise stated, fics are Silco/Reader material

[Updated Feb. 23, 2022]

A03 | Kofi | Requests: Open | Taglist

Multi-Parters

Timer (Ongoing)

In the color of their eyes, there is a set of numbers on wrists that are counting down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds to when you will meet your soulmate.

Pretend (Ongoing)

After being tailed one-too-many blocks, you duck into the first bar you find and grab the most-sober looking man in the room to do a bit of acting. You find, it might have been a more dangerous gamble than you'd ever intended...

Of Zaun (TBC)

Future Multi-Chapter

Of Opposites (Hiatus)

But your racing, panicking mind just can’t seem to shake the idea of it, a part of you musing coldly, clinically at the idea of just… letting it happen. Letting the Eye of Zaun simply stay down in this flooded basement. Letting Silco drown.

Flawless (Comp.) (All Parts NSFW)

The first time you ever said it, it was his 17th time visiting you.

Goodreads (Comp.)

You walk into the Undercity’s most famous club, and an hour in, immediately sneak off to go immerse yourself in the book you brought. The stranger that joins you at the bar-counter, takes an interest.

Tired (Ongoing)

It's too late (early, probably) to be getting chewed out like this. Your fist is still stinging from last nights' job, you need a shower, you still have no idea how to navigate your complex emotions for this man, and worse of all: You're tired.

Alt. Timer (AU of Timer | Hiatus)

In which timers are allowed to reach zero.

Lucky (Ongoing) (Part 2 NSFW)

You admired him. Then you became infatuated with him. You don't know if you call what you feel now love, but it made the mental image of you and him rather painful, in knowing that now it could never be. Not after this, not with that book in his hands... so maybe it was something close to it.

The Perfect Fit (Comp.) (Part 4 NSFW)

Once upon a time, a Son of Zaun peers into the window of a tailor shop. The tailor's apprentice comes outside to join him.

Yours, or Mine? (Comp.)

The aftermath of a one-night with a young Son of Zaun.

Royal-Flush (Comp.) (Part 2 NSFW)

Another thrill creeps up your spine. Any complaints of the chill goes out the window under the heat of his gaze watching you, as you reach down and hook fingers on the hem of your pants. A new kind of game has begun.

Oneshots

His Colors

From The Past

Jealousy, Jealousy

Old Ghosts

Fishbowl

Well Hello

Together

Sweet

Are We?

Nice Things

"They won't let me."

Enunciate (NSFW)

"Go back to Sleep."

Terror (NSFW)

Echoings (NSFW)

Something Special (NSFW)

Special Something (NSFW)

Second the Motion (NSFW)

Gala of '81 (NSFW)

Caller Not Available (NSFW)

Fond Farewell (NSFW)

I Don't Like This Song (NSFW)

Musical Appreciation (NSFW)

Requests

Protective Silco w/Apologizing Reader

"Charming" young Silco First-Meet

Physical-Affection w/young Silco

Injured Reader + Protective Silco

New Years w/Silco and Jinx

Drunk!Reader calling Silco a silver-fox

Soulmate AU + Piltover!Reader x young Silco

Reader with New Haircut + young Silco

Reader speaking different language

"As the World Caves in" + Reader Death

Mom!Reader Saving Jinx + Couch-Sleeping Silco

One That Got Away + mining kids Reader & Silco

Childhood Savior/Crush + Reunion as Adults

Singer!Reader w/young Vander & Silco

Partner in Crime with Silco

Young Silco/Reader + breeding kink (NSFW)

Young Jealous Silco

Reader accidentally saying "I Love You"

Reader on a Leash (NSFW)

Analysis & Stuff

Screenshot Collection | 1 2 3 4

Silco & Jayce Negotiation Scene

Silco's Gang Reaction to Powder/Jinx

Quotes/Opinion on how to write Relationships

Gushing about Favorite Silco Screenshots

"No seriously, I've never watched Arcane."

Silco and Independent/Dependent Partners

Silco Expression, "The Nation of Zaun."

#IT'S DONE #thank gods #this took me all day #my writing #masterlist #silco #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #young silco #arcane fanfiction #arcane x reader #fanfiction #shoo if you are not 18 #gender neutral reader #female reader

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kiridarling · 3 years

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[a/n: is this a week late? yes. happy belated-valentine's day angels <3]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮; 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥

→ Definitely went to work that day

→ Not a huge romantic but wake up to find a hot breakfast with a note left on the counter.

Happy Valentines Day, dumbass. Love you.

— k.b

→ When he returns from work, Katsuki buys you roses and shoves them into your chest with an eye roll. You thank him and he responds with a grunt before insisting you put on something nice because he’s taking you out on a dinner date whether you like it or not.

→ Katsuki takes you to the fanciest restaurant—so fancy you feel a little bad that he has to pay, even despite his Pro Hero status. But you’re his, and spoiling you might as well be his love language.

→ Halfway through dinner, Katsuki starts getting a little frisky. Sliding the rough leather of his oxfords up the inside of your thigh, winking and biting his lip. You tell him to stop but you only half-mean it, and the knowing grin on his face lets you know he knows.

"Careful, baby. You don't want the waitress to know how much of a dirty slut you are, do you?”

→ He’s condescending as fuck but you’re totally here for it, and the second he pays for the meal you two are speeding down the highway to a love hotel (per Katsuki’s plan, apparently). You barely make it to the bedroom before you’re all over each other, and if it weren’t for that family of four in the elevator, you definitely wouldn’t have.

→ He tells you to get on the bed and strip, and who are you to deny him of such a luxury? He pulls a plastic black bag out of a different bag—it’s clearly full. With what, you may ask?

→ Sex toys!

→ Katsuki’s endgame is simple—make you cum until you can’t anymore. Not that he’s told you explicitly, but he’s got a Hitachi pressed to your sex and two fingers slamming into you just the way you like it. With your wrists comfortably tied above your head, it doesn’t take him long to bring you to your climax, cheeks burning and thighs shaking.

→ Peering at you under the sweaty mess of ash-blond hair, the fire in Katsuki's eyes only adds fuel to the burning of your gut as the vibrator continues whirr. The realization settles in with a shiver. Oh. Oh fuck, he's not stopping.

“Again.”

→ So, you cum again. And again, and again, and by the time you’re on the fifth it gets a bit hard to feel your toes and you’re so sensitive your thighs burn. All you want is his cock, but for some reason, it’s fucking impossible for him to give it to you.

→ Upon voicing your concerns, Katsuki’s devilish smile only grows wider.

“You want this cock that bad, slut? Yeah? Fine then, fuckin’ choke on it.”

→ It’s basically cannon that one of Katsuki’s favorite things to do is watch you struggle to take all of him, but in this position, all you can do is lay back with bound hands as he fucks your face. It’s sloppy and your eyes and throat burn, but it's totally worth it to hear Katsuki fall apart in your mouth.

“S-So good—fuck—such a good whore, taking all of me, aren’t you?”

→ Katsuki pulls out before he cums in your throat in favor of flipping your limp body into downward dog and stuffing you full of cock in one swift move, the bastard.

→ Katsuki’s never been one to take things slow in bed—to him, it’s all hard and fast and now. You’re scrambling for purchase in the sheets as he pounds into that sweet spot he knows you love, and you feel your fully spent sex twitching back to life anyway. Fuck, fuck. Are you going to cum again?

→ Katsuki seems to catch onto this as well, sweaty chest dropping against your back and the cool of his dog tag tickling your neck as his hand rubs between your legs, muttering dirty nothings in your ear.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah? Gonna make a fuckin’ mess all over yourself like the slut you are? Fuckin’ do it. Fuckin—fuck—”

→ You two cum at the same time, toes curling and ribcage shuddering, and then—

→ Darkness.

→ You wake up in a few hours, properly clean in fresh sheets. Turns out baby boy fucked you so hard you passed out, but it's okay because he’s found reruns of your favorite show on and is fully prepared with water and snacks.

→ (And he’ll never tell you, but he fully panicked and called Eijirou. Obviously, he knew you were alive, but…what if you passed out because of a problem? A concussion? Internal bleeding, maybe?)

→ (Eijirou ensures him that though this should NOT happen every time, it can happen from exhaustion. To say Katsuki relaxes after that is an understatement.)

(Stay safe angels <3)

And speaking of Eijirou...

𝐄𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞

→ Definitely did not go to work that day.

→ Today, Eijirou plans to treat you like the princess you are. Cooks you breakfast in bed (after almost burning down the kitchen trying to make bacon but shhh we don’t talk about that) books you a full day spa and has Mina take you shopping for a new outfit for your "fancy date" that night.

→ The location? A surprise.

→ It’s dark by the time you and Mina pull up, but the moment you hop out the car she speeds away. Um. She could’ve at least said bye.

"[Y/N?]"

→ Looks like Eijirou brought you to a lake. You wonder who helped him bundle the fairy lights in the trees and set up the picnic because knowing your man and his coordination, it would’ve taken a forever for him to set this up.

→ But all those thoughts shatter the second you see that he’s on his knees, clutching a velvet box with a gorgeous diamond ring sat in the center. Not too flashy, but not too dull.

“U-Uh.”

→ Eijirou swallows then blinks, the only sign that he’s the least bit nervous for this.

“See…I swear I had planned something to say, but you look…holy shit, um—stunning, you look stunning.”

→ His compliment goes over your head though. Of course it does, he’s holding an engagement ring. He chuckles, averting his eyes to the ground.

“Listen, um, you can say no...B-But uh, I love you a lot—obviously—and I’ve been thinking about this a lot, kind of, because you’re like…the love of my life, ya know? I mean, I know everyone says that and everything but like, I really mean it? But if I’m going too fast o-or you just don’t wanna get married or something, I totally get it because obviously this is outta the blue and everything b-but um…yeah.”

→ You let him stutter through the whole thing because, well. It’s cute.

→ ...And then you tackle Eijirou to the ground with renewed passion and slam your lips onto his. His “babe! The ring!” is muffled but you snort anyway, blindly groping for it through the grass. The moment you find it, you shove it into his palm and stick your hand in his face, and with a (very sexy) chuckle, the redhead slides it onto your ring finger.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

→ No shit, Sherlock.

→ Either way, the picnic in the dark is abandoned in favor of yanking Eijirou's pants off and giving him the best head of his life. Because goddammit, you love this man so much and he needs to feel it.

→ Afterward, he insists on returning the favor. A wild Gentle Dom Kiri appears and as he eats you out, he mutters a deadly combination of the sweetest and dirtiest things you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and wet. And it’s all for me, isn’t it, baby?"

“You’re gonna cum, angel? Do it. Cum all over Daddy’s face.”

→ Once you semi-recover from your orgasm, he flips you on your hands and knees and slowly pushes inside of you (though not without putting on a condom because safety first, angels). You tell him to speed up, but he denies your request. This time around, Eijirou's going to take the time to love you.

→ As he slowly fucks you under the stars, he dips his chin into your neck as his bigger hands encompass your own. As he starts to play with the ring on your finger, you watch something wet hit the picnic blanket, followed by a sniffle.

“Gosh, fuck—I love you so much. A-And I’m really happy you said yes. I…”

→ You cum first and Eijirou isn’t far behind, shuddering against your spine. Your fiancé unceremoniously rolls onto the picnic blanket next to you, his temple kissing the crest of your skull as the two of you use the comfortable silence to cool down, half-naked under the milky way.

→ In your comfortable silence, you lift your left hand to the stars, fingers splayed to reveal the twinkling diamond solidifying the bond between the two of you. Eijirou hums, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢; 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

→ Both of you are painfully single and most importantly, strangers. Strangers who think alike and had the glorious forethought to drown your sorrows at a nightclub with a lot of alcohol.

→ Denki, as he does, accidentally knocks over his liquor-filled cup, completely drenching your bottoms. He apologizes and insists on helping you clean up though getting awfully close to your crotch, but both of you are too tipsy to notice.

→ After the liquor spill, you swap embarrassing love stories and lament over the “hardships of being single.” (Denki’s words.)

→ A few hours pass. You’re tired and ready to go home and Denki requests to walk you home to make sure you get back safely. Not that you live far, maybe ten minutes, but by the time you reach your door, you feel like you've known the electric blond your whole life. After saying goodbye and almost closing the door, Denki blurts out a half-drunken confession...or something like that:

“I—uh, y-you are—uhm, no…this is—“

→ You give him a look, a half-smile at best, and it seems to churn the gears in his brain again.

“This was uhm, really fun and uh, I think you’re really cool.”

→ So naturally, when you invite him inside, he squeals.

→ After a few more drinks and a few more spillages (Denki’s never been a deft drunk), you two finally get over your inner thoughts and start kissing on the couch. It’s hot and messy, and the alcohol in your veins makes it oh, so hot.

→ Denki doesn’t expect you to offer head but when you do he nearly cries, scrambling to pull his pants off while you make space for yourself between his thighs. Due to the fact that there’s alcohol pumping in Denki’s veins and he hasn't been touched by someone else in at least a year, he’s extra-sensitive. And vocal.

"F-Fuck gorgeous, you're so good at this...o-oh shit, do that again—yeah, yeah just like that."

→ His hips quiver, and he bucks into your mouth on accident. It earns him a glare and a light slap on the thigh, and you make a mental note to unpack the broken moan that interrupts his apology later.

→ It doesn't take Denki a long time to cum—five minutes max. He plans to give you a warning but his orgasm runs up on the electric blond so quickly he doesn't even get a warning. When Denki orgasms in your mouth with a choked moan, it's only natural that you pull away in alarm, ribbons of semi-translucent cum flying just about everywhere.

→ To say you're pissed is an understatement (because your poor, poor carpet), but Denki feels terrible and is already reaching for the roll of paper towels you left on the coffee table from your cleaning spree this morning, apologies flying out of his mouth like an auctioneer.

→ Obviously, he's going to make it up to you. Not only for making an absolute mess in your living room (seriously, Denki doesn't know if he's ever come that much in his life) but for the bomb head, and he wants to make you feel just as good as you made him feel.

→ Both of you stumble to your room, the mood miraculously rekindled, and you're not sure what to make of Denki's desperation as he claws at your bottoms, pupils blown to the size of dinner plates. And though it's cheesy, you can't help but shiver when he finally gets eyes on your sex, wetting his bottom lip and the grip around your thigh tightening as he catcalls the apex between your thighs before diving in.

"Hello pretty~"

→ Like any pervert with a vivid imagination, Denki's got a mental warehouse of sex tips and tricks and burns to watch you squirm from his touch. He wants you red-faced and breathless and isn’t shy about it, actively paying attention to your reactions when he curls his fingers or uses his tongue just right.

"Oh, you taste so good sweet thing. So pretty and wet...did I do all this, gorgeous?”

→ Also, electro-stimulation? Yes please.

→ Denki's tentative about it at first because he’s not sure how you’ll react, but once you give him that pretty little moan you've been holding back all evening, you two are going nowhere but hell.

→ His dick hurts from being hard for so long and the second you cum, he’s practically begging to fuck you.

“Please? Please gorgeous? Shit, you felt so good in my mouth I just wanna—I need to—please?”

→ Like you needed any convincing in the first place.

→ You ride him per his request—and will definitely make you repeat things back to him, just because he likes how embarrassed and blushy you get. If you refuse? He’ll be an absolute tease about it. (But only for a bit, because we all know his patience isn’t that great.)

"Yeah? You like this cock? Tell me. Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, gorgeous."

→ There's no way Denki lasts very long (again)—definitely with you in his lap. When he cums, it’s cute and breathless, and his nose scrunches into his eyes. But if he came twice, you should too right?

→ The next morning, Denki's gone. But in his place, there’s a note with his number and an explanation:

had to go to work! lol i have the fattest hangover kill me now ty. either way, you should text me. i wasn't kidding when i said i thought you were cool lol.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx

— kaminari

[a/n: gah XD my brain melted from writing that um-

also don’t worry about the family of four at the love hotel...they were...um...forced to stay there due to an emergency...lol :) see you soon, angels <3]

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔 #— 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 #bnha headcanons #bakugou headcanons #denki headcanons #kirishima headcanon #bnha fanfiction #bakugou smut #denki smut #kirishima smut #bakugou x reader #denki x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha smut

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moonrazeeclipse · 3 years

Text

Day at the Amusement Park.

The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was 12 years-old. My memories have been mostly shaky, but what I can remember was the happiness and joy I felt with my mother and father.

It’s been tough for me to have fun these days. Being a 23 year-old working a typical nine-to-five shift made it difficult to have time for myself. Stressed about the quotas, the numbers, job stability, and everything else in between. Good sleep has eluded me for months.

Then I look at my girlfriend, Nicha, and my hope has never been brighter.

Ah, Nicha. Everyone else knew and recognized her as Minnie, but the closest to her called her by her real name. If I thought an average office job was a grindfest, then hers was a gauntlet. Idol life meant she had to be up as early as 3 A.M. and she’d run through several sets of makeup, practice, interviews, and appearances. During one of her off days she and her members visited my building while I just so happen to be on coffee break. One funny stare and the next thing I knew, we were hiding our relationship from the whole world.

No matter how exhausted she got, she kept that same positive, happy energy as if she had unlimited battery life. Each occasional glance as I drove to the old amusement park, she was beaming, singing along to the songs on the radio, like she were a child. This was one of her rare off days where they didn’t have any schedules, so maybe that’s the reason why she’s extra joyful too.

The park itself hadn’t changed much since I last visited all those years back. The entrance looked rusted and devoid of any life or color. There seemed to be way fewer people visiting as well. Nicha offered to take me to that newer park with those virtual reality simulators, but I turned it down with a chuckle, saying that I wasn’t making enough money to spend a day there. Regardless, we entered the place, her hand holding mine, dragging me with the brightest smile on her face.

Whatever she wanted to do, I followed along. Nicha ran ahead of me, acting like a child and not a famous, recognizable idol. Being around me must be freeing for her; she could be herself when I’m with her. None of the rides were renovated or refashioned, which gave me that nostalgic feel. Because there weren’t that many visitors, waiting only took less than ten minutes for each ride. Despite my motion sickness, I powered through the first roller coaster without a problem. The second one? I recalled hurling up minutes after getting off that one as a child. Nicha screamed her heart out on the first coaster, but was overcome by fear on the second. She leaned into my chest while I was fighting every urge not to puke mid-ride. I sought a barf bag once we got off, making her laugh.

“Ahaha! You look hilarious!” Nicha mocked.

“Why are you gloating? Don’t act like you were hiding your face on my chest.” I retorted. She blushed in embarrassment before pretending to run away. No matter how much she loved to make fun of me, I couldn’t get upset. Her wholesome smiles made her a great person to hang out with.

Walking along the park, we came across a row of booths. These booths offered challenges in exchange for prizes. Dad won me a basketball as a reward back then. Even with age, one of the game masters somehow recognized me by my eyes.

“Hey, hey! It’s been a long time! You’re all grown now!” He said, calling my attention.

“Oh, hey. How did you recognize my face?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You have your father’s eyes, that’s why! How’s he doing?” He changed the subject.

“Umm, great I guess.” I honestly didn’t know how to answer, since I haven’t spoken to him in years.

Nicha suddenly came in from behind and hugged me. The game master’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh! Is this your girlfriend? Why don’t you step up and show her your father’s talent?” He challenged me on the spot. I sighed as Nicha moved right next to me. Her beaming eyes and bright smile gave me more pressure to do well.

I was poor at sports, so I wondered how bad I’d mess up at ring toss. I didn’t have deft hands like my dad, and I wasn’t practicing at all. I’m better with keyboards, I murmured under my breath as he gave me the rings. First toss. The ring hit the bottle. My eyes widened. Second toss. The bottle was a little more distant than the first. I threw the ring and to my surprise, it hit too. Shock drowned out my girlfriend’s cheers and the yell of the game master. One more ring, one more toss. The bottle was placed at a greater distance compared to the earlier ones. I was doing better than I thought, so maybe my luck would run out on this turn. I flung the last ring, and time seemingly slowed down as I released it from my grip.

One, two, three, four, five. Bingo.

Nicha hugged me in celebration. I made all three tosses as the game master applauded me. Wow. Honestly, that may have been divine intervention, considering how awful I am at these games. It must have been five minutes before I moved because I stayed frozen in place, unable to let my victory sink in.

“You do have your father’s genes in you after all! Go ahead and pick a prize.” The game master said, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to Nicha, implying that she could choose the prize. She took the hint and pointed at a gigantic brown teddy bear. The game master grabbed it from the shelf and handed it over to me. I gave the stuffed animal to her, and she buried her face on its belly.

“Aaahh it’s so fluffy! You’re really good at this, Minki!” She cuddled the bear as I just chuckled and waved goodbye to the game master.

The rest of our day at the park was just riding the rest of the attractions and eating an ice cream sandwich along the way. Nicha and I had so much fun together, refusing to let go of the teddy bear. The sun had set and nightfall came, and our time was almost up. But before we left, there was one more ride we hadn’t gone in. The ferris wheel.

The passenger cabins were suited for four people, so we hopped on one, including our stuffed animal. She placed the bear next to her as the wheel began moving. From where I sat I could see the bright lights of the highway, overlooking the specks of people thousands of feet in the air. Nicha looked out the window before turning to me, taking my hand.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today,” she said, caressing my hand gently and pecking it. “Thank you.”

I gazed into her eyes, gleaming brighter than the stars in the night sky. She stared back at me, looking at me the same way. Then something sprung in me to lock lips with her. Nicha sunk into the kiss, pulling me close and our tongues swirled with each other. She was sweeter and tastier than dessert. I cupped her cheek and she placed her palm on mine, running it across her face.

She broke the kiss and slowly spread my legs. I panicked a little because of the situation we’re in. Nicha feigned ignorance and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down alongside my boxers.

“Nicha! We’re still in public, remember?”

“Your cock says otherwise,” she replied, slapping my hardened cock with her hand. “I’ve been missing you so much. I can’t help myself.”

She seized my balls, giving them a rub. “You’re full. You’ve been missing me too.”

I groaned as she kissed me from my balls, making her way up to my tip. Her soft lips felt so good on my shaft. She looked at me with widened eyes, satisfied with the pleasure she’s giving me. I slumped into my seat and closed my eyes, allowing the euphoria of her swirling tongue to override my brain. If that wasn’t enough, she added her sensual moans into her slurps, giving me tingles up my spine.

My hands flowed through her black locks, while the rest of my body just numbed in pleasure. I didn’t realize she took me in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. Nicha bobbed her head back and forth, coating my shaft with her saliva. We didn’t care if anyone caught us in the lewd act. Nicha had her way with me and my body happily fell under control.

Pop. She released me from her mouth after blowing me off for a while. I was really sinking into that excitable feeling too. Appropriate timing too, as she finished up just as the car was about to reach ground level. I quickly buttoned up my pants as she pretended like she didn’t suck my cock leaving the pod.

We reached my car just as the park was closing, and she gave me a few pecks on the cheek. “When we get home, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want.” The thought of her splayed body already riled me up and I couldn’t be any more excited to drive home.

I turned the key. Rough gruffs roared from the engine. Again. Gruffs. In frustration I slapped my hands against the steering wheel. The car couldn’t start. Fuck.

“I just had it checked last week,” I grumbled. It was second hand but I didn’t have any excuse. Nicha giggled. She was still smiling as she watched me suffer and curse my car out. Oh, no matter how terrible a day gets, you’re always the jovial one.

Conveniently there was a subway station nearby whose line started and ended at the park. We both got out of the car and decided to take the train home. Nicha still refused to let go of the teddy bear.

Entering one of the cars, we sat at the back end of the left row. All the walking wore our legs out, so I slumped down in my seat. Nicha set the bear at the corner chair before sitting beside me. Drowsiness began kicking in and soon enough, I fell into a deep sleep holding my girlfriend’s hand tightly.

I felt a sensation below my chest that woke me up. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurring my sight. I looked to my left and saw only the teddy bear. She probably went to the bathroom, I thought. I tried going back to sleep, but I felt that twitching in my stomach again. I looked down and to my surprise, my pants were on the ground. Nicha was on her knees, sucking my erect cock.

“Nicha! What did I say about doing this in public?” I whispered, trying to avoid causing a disturbance with the nearby passengers.

She responded by taking more of me into her mouth, making me moan with her humming sounds. “Mmph, I can’t help myself. Your cock rubbed on me as we slept.”

It took all of my willpower not to submit to pleasure, but I was able to scout the area. There weren’t a lot of people on this late train ride home, except a man wearing a business suit calling someone on his phone seated on the opposite aisle.

I slowly hopped from one chair to the next using the rail, keeping Nicha busy on my shaft without her letting go into it. My free hands lifted the stuffed bear from its seat and placed it to where I was sitting. The prized toy was huge enough to act as camouflage from unsuspecting train-goers.

“Yeah. Let’s discuss the business trip to Japan at the cafe. I’ll move up so you can spot me as I get off,” the man said as he stood up from his seat and trudged to the front.

I sighed a breath of relief, but that was only a temporary win. I looked below to see how Nicha was doing and my eyes widened. She stripped off her overalls as her bare legs were now exposed.

“Nicha!” I almost screamed, panicking at the situation she’d got us into. She giggles at my reaction before kissing my tip with her soft lips.

“While you were busy covering us up I took my overalls off. I really can’t wait for you to fill me inside.” She said matter-of-factly.

I groaned in annoyance but I couldn’t help myself. She was opening herself and I guess my patience ran out too.

“We still have a few more stops to go before our stop,” She added, stroking me with her fingers.

My psyche crumbled under her control again. I resisted her lips, but not her hands rapidly pumping my cock. I threw my head back and allowed the pleasure to jack my brain, grazing my hands on her hair again.

I must have drowned deeply to the delight of Nicha’s handjob that I ignored the dings and voice of the operator over the speaker indicating the train’s destination. My eyes, struggling to open, somehow caught a glimpse of a few new passengers entering the car. Quickly I bent over and took her overalls as well as my large coat and veiled my crotch. She continued jerking me off under the covers, eager to get me to orgasm. The commuters gave me either weird or neutral looks as they walked by. I gave them a gaze of exhaustion, pretending as if I was ill. I just hope they didn’t notice the suspicious bulge below me.

Most of the travelers moved onto another cabin but some of them sat a few rows behind or ahead of ours. Thankfully none decided to sit in the same aisle as us. My hands, which were positioned on my lap, were grabbed by Nicha. She led it down to her clit and I felt her wetness. Even with some bush she was clearly dripping.

“Fuck me, please,” She whispered, each word laced with lust. “I’m so wet for you, babe.”

I hoisted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I rose for a minute before sitting down with her on me. I carefully lined my shaft against her crotch before burying my cock in her walls. She let out a lengthy, low moan as I started ramming into her tight pussy. My hands snuck through her shirt, pinching her taut nipples, making her squeal.

I could feel her juices cream my hair as I grinded back and forth, making sure she feels every inch of my length. One hand escapes her shirt to cover her mouth, preventing her from letting out wild screams. I pulled her face close to mine, her features indicating pleasure as our lips met for a shaky, passionate kiss.

As we continued making out my eyes caught a glimpse of a stewardess slowly making her way across the cabin, punching passengers’ tickets. I broke the kiss off and drove Nicha into my chest, bundling our bodies with her overalls and my coat. The attendant reached us, her formal smile shifting to a confused look at the weird image ahead of her.

“Oh I’m sorry, is she okay?” She asked matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. She’s just a little ill, so I’m warming her up, that’s all.” I answered, nodding repeatedly.

Nicha sold my act by freezing in my arms. I reached into my coat and pulled out two tickets. She punched them and smiled as she walked by, believing my lie.

My girlfriend looked me in the eyes, lust ridden over them. I squeal as her finger reaches my cock, still buried in her soaked cunt, stroking me off. Through the pleasant sensation I managed to keep my eyes alert, watching the passengers slowly leave one by one at the next stop. Now it was just the two of us in this cable car.

“We’re alone. Fuck me,” She said as the train started moving again.

Perhaps her eagerness drove me to thrust into her a lot faster than I thought. I rocked back and forth on the chair, drilling her with my shaft. Nicha closed her eyes and let the pleasure fill her, her mouth making a wide ‘O’ shape. At this point we ran out of care for our surroundings, made clear by our audible moaning. Her hands claw my nape and hair deeply, her slender figure bouncing up and down my lap.

The tightness of her pussy, as well as her soft, seductive moans made it hard for me to keep control. I was losing another round to her lewdness and this one would be the hardest of them all. I was all but ready to climax, only slowing down my pumps to keep the euphoria last longer.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” I whispered.

“On me. Fill me, please. Fill me with your cum.”

One. Two. Three. With a heavy groan I reached my peak. I felt shots of warm semen fill her womb. I pumped through my orgasm, shooting flecks of cum in her until I was drained. My hips stopped grinding. I put my head down in exhaustion over that intense, risky session. She cupped my face then kissed me on the cheek.

“T-that was s-so g-good. I can’t wait until we get home for more.”

There’s a clear trail of white on my chair and on my pants. My cock slipped out of her slit as I set her down on the ground.

“This is the last station! Thank you for riding with us.” The operator announced over the intercom. We’re almost at our destination.

I pulled her overalls off my coat and threw it at Nicha. “Put these on, we still have to walk home.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “I want to go home with your cum dripping down on me.”

I sighed. Nicha decided to be bratty on the way home, when everything was almost perfect and after all we’ve been through. But what else can I do?

I gave her my coat as I took her overalls and placed it in my bag. We got off the train with her wearing my coat, our mixed juices still running down her legs. We enjoyed our little walk home, having forgotten the prized teddy bear that she was attached to all day long, but that didn’t matter. As soon as we reached home, we stuffed our bodies into each other throughout the night.

—————

And that’s my first work done. I didn’t do a lot of editing as I was excited to publish this one. I finally decided to jump into the world of smut writing after being inspired for a while now. Thank you for reading!

#kpop smut #smut #g idle #minnie

156 notes · View notes

chironshorseass · 3 years

Note

hello yes i’m OBSESSED with your writing so if you’re still taking prompts maybe “please look at me” bc i also have an unhealthy relationship with pre-tlo percabeth angst and live for pining percy

SYD U GAVE ME THIS AND I JUST HAD TO PUT ALL MY PROMPTS ASIDE!!! because how could i not!!!

for what i wrote, i kind of mention this clarisse one-shot.

anyway enjoy <3, since I sort of went crazy with percy being powerful :) like i always do :) and of course, pre-tlo percabeth :)

read on ao3

The waves had grown restless these past few days. Violent, brutal. The night was quiet, the moon hidden beneath darkened clouds, drenching the camp in heavy ink. Percy knew many demigods proclaimed it as the quiet before the storm. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

All he heard was noise.

He’d been like this—unsteady, overwhelmed—for some time, now. Everywhere he went, he felt like a ship sailing into giant waves, water crashing against his deck, threatening to bring him under.

Grover would’ve understood, maybe. But Grover, like the moon, had vanished. That only left a few of his other friends—and of course—Annabeth.

Percy couldn’t avoid her gaze, no matter how much he wanted to. She was always there, watching. Maybe she awaited the day when he’d sink to the power of those waves that plagued the beach, that plagued him. Maybe she anticipated with bated breath on the day when he’d turn sixteen and he’d have to make one decision that would change everything.

Nevertheless, she’d drift away from him. Then come back, again and again.

It drove him crazy, how much their relationship had changed with the times and circumstances. Only now, Annabeth wasn’t what bothered him.

His gut was.

It tightened and loosened, the same way the currents flowed to the rhythm of his rushing blood. He could hear that now, too.

His blood. The sea. The clashes against rock.

Everything was beating to a powerful symphony of drums.

But worst of all was his gut.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Percy knew there was a war. He had nightmares about it, in fact. Nightmares leading to frantic waking-ups from the feeling of lava burning into his skin. But he hadn’t sensed the war’s presence so strongly in all his three years of attending camp as he did now—and he felt it, because the source of conflict had to do with the sea.

The shadows of cabin three clung to his skin in a comfortable blanket, but he couldn’t ignore this dread. It had trickled patiently into his system for a week now, culminating to this exact moment. He couldn’t sit still. He had to leave. Now.

Not long after stumbling outside while shoving his armor on did he hear the conch horn ringing as a warning. The lookouts had seen something. His legs moved faster.

Doors of other cabins began to smash open, and with it came the spilling of panicked campers. He was already way ahead of them, though.

“To the beach!” someone cried.

Percy arrived just in time to see Chiron assemble with Michael Yew and Austin Lake. The sons of Apollo. They’d apparently been the ones on night duty. The centaur saw Percy before the others made out his heavy footfalls.

“Percy,” Chiron said. “Thank the gods you’re here.”

“There’s something,” he gasped, doubling over once he’d reached them. “There’s something out there,” he finally managed to say, gulping mouthfuls of air. “The sea.”

They already knew, however. The conchorns were signal enough. But what was more obvious was the glimpse of the giant tail, jutting out of the water like a spear cutting through flesh.

The breath he’d managed to find from his mad dash was stolen away at the sight of the monster.

“Yeah,” Austin said, swallowing. “There’s something out there, alright.”

Chiron eyed Percy warily. “My boy. We are dealing here with something I fear that you are only capable of stopping.”

“Yeah, well...it looks like a pretty big fish. I—”

A howl punctured the atmosphere—probably the same sea monster he’d seen earlier. Percy gasped, feeling a stabbing jolt in his stomach. He didn’t know why this sudden change of the sea was affecting him so, but he had to stay strong. So he stood up straight and concentrated on his breathing.

“Are you alright?” Austin asked, studying him.

Percy looked at Chiron, who met his eyes as well. You have to be, his teacher seemed to say.

“I...I think so.”

Michael chose the moment to turn his back on the sea, blowing the conchorn once more. He shouted at the incoming campers, “Greek fire! We need Greek fire!”

The rest of the multitude showed up right away, Hephaestus kids priming canons while others exchanged weaponry. Through all of it, Percy’s gut became a pressure cooker, a fist closing around glass, about to break. He cried out in agony just as a tidal wave shook the world. Falling to his knees, his arms encircled his middle, muffling that pain. He wanted nothing but to make it stop.

He vaguely heard a sound of surprise, coming from someone nearby, then the rush of hands holding onto his shoulders. They helped somewhat, a comfort to the madness.

The hands were warm and soothing. The voice of the person became clearer. He knew that voice. He knew those hands.

Annabeth appeared in his vision, all worry lines and pinched eyebrows. She said something to him again, but the words might’ve been ghosts; the stampeding blood behind his ears was too thunderous to make out anything else.

He closed his eyes and concentrated like he had earlier.

Sharp as a blade, his senses switched to the outside world.

“Are—are you okay?” Annabeth was saying. “You doubled over, and I…”

“No.” He opened his eyes to meet hers. They matched the storm that raged across the sea. “I—I’m not okay. I need to stop this, I need—”

“We were just discussing strategy,” she said. He was glad for the distraction she’d offered. “The Scolopendra isn’t just any ordinary sea monster.”

“The Scolo what?”

She helped him stand up, steadying him with her arms.

“The Scolopendra,” she repeated. “A child of Keto. It’s one of the biggest sea monsters in existence, and it won’t leave the camp border.”

“No shit.”

Annabeth ignored him, glancing backwards at where the monster had last been seen. “There’s no telling what it can do. There’s barely any recordings of it.” She swiveled back to him. “Chiron says that it can control the tide. It might be capable of drowning the camp if we don’t kill it.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I told Chiron that we needed to try my strategy first. As in, bombing it with Greek fire before we go with the last approach.”

“And what would that last approach be?”

He had some idea, but before Annabeth could speak, the creature shot out of the water, faster than lightning. He only caught a glimpse of the crayfish-like tail and rows of webbed feet before it disappeared again.

“That looks like a giant shrimp,” he declared.

A giant shrimp that was probably capable of crushing a decently-sized trireme. Shrimpzilla, he was about to call it, as a way to lighten the mood. But he thought better of it, once he saw the hard line of Annabeth’s lips as she watched the campers rev up the Greek fire.

The Scolopendra dared to peek out of the waves for the third time, giving the chance for Beckendorf to yell out an order. Instantly, canyons discharged the green substance directly towards the monster.

It roared defiantly, maybe in pain, maybe in anger. No one was sure, because as soon as the night sky lit up with green flames, the Scolopendra crashed against the water like a wrecking ball. For a moment, all was silent.

No one dared breathe.

Annabeth squeezed Percy’s shoulder. She looked hopeful, as if relieved that she didn’t have to go with the second plan.

Chiron’s tail twitched. Beckendorf held out a hand, urging the campers to wait. Some stood anticipatedly, swords ready. He saw Clarisse in the front line, her electric spear aimed at the sea and crackling with energy.

Percy sensed what was about to happen next before he heard it.

“Annabeth,” he said frantically. “Annabeth, we have to go. Now.”

“What? But—”

“NOW!”

He’d already separated himself from her, yelling at the rest of the campers to leave. They didn’t have the chance; milliseconds later, the Scolopendra appeared. It bellowed with the power of a thousand hurricanes. Many campers covered their ears.

To everyone’s horror, it had closed in on the shore, its back legs likely reaching the sand floor as it rose to its full, terrifying height. Lightning crackled, and with it, came another roar.

“No,” he muttered. “No, everyone get out!”

Too late. The monster had already spit out a million gallons’ worth of salt water.

Instinctively, Percy let out a yell and threw his hands out.

The water halted in midair, rippling like a broken mirror. It was as if time had slowed down, as if Kronos himself had been the one to interfere. But Kronos wasn’t interfering. It was all Percy—with nothing but his willpower. A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple.

Annabeth reached him just as he cried out and threw the water back to the sea with everything he had, forcing the giant shrimp to hide as well.

He caught his breath while Annabeth looked back and forth. From him to the sea, from the sea to him.

She shook her head at no one in particular. “The plan didn’t work.”

“No shit.”

Then she gazed at him again. “Thank you for doing that, Perce.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “No problem.”

“About the second plan...”

“I have to kill it, don’t I?”

“I...maybe. But we can help—”

“It isn’t a maybe. It is a certainty,” a voice said, strong and firm.

They both turned around.

“Chiron,” Annabeth said. “How can he possibly—”

“He’s the only one capable,” the horseman said. “You know that better than most.”

Her eyes flicked to Percy. Memories flashed through his mind. A quick, burning kiss. A promise. Then, the way fire engulfed him. The call of the sea. An explosion, strong enough to wake one of the most dangerous monsters of all.

When the bombard was over, he understood. He had to face this monster alone, like he had with the telkhines.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay, what?”

Chiron nodded at him, ignoring Annabeth’s question. Without glancing back, he retreated to where the rest of the demigods were watching by the sand dunes as a precaution.

“I need to face him alone,” Percy told her, once Chiron was gone.

“No! Percy, that thing is bigger than—”

“I’m the only one that can’t drown, Annabeth!” He grasped her shoulders so that she was looking directly at him. “If anyone can do it, it’s me.”

“Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on with you,” she said, voice bitter and rough. “You’re distant, like, like the ocean is—”

“We’re both growing distant, ‘Beth. That’s not the problem right now.”

She pushed his hands away. “And that’s not what I’m talking about, and you fucking know that!”

Before he could reply, the monster's call came again. A reminder that this night wasn’t over.

“Please. Just trust me on this, Annabeth. I have to try. It’s our last option. You said so yourself: it may be capable of drowning the entire camp.”

She said nothing, not even sparing him a glance.

“And—and I don’t know why I’m like this! Maybe it’s because I can feel the ocean getting agitated, or because the war is getting worse, or—”

He realized it, then. Annabeth's tears. They were silent rivers, flowing gently down her cheeks and into her mouth. Flowing down to where everything ended up, to the sea.

“Hey,” he said, approaching her slowly. He took both of her hands in his, but she repelled away from his touch. “Please, ‘Beth.”

This time, he cupped her damp cheek, moving it in his direction. “Please look at me.”

And when she finally obliged, her gaze was fractured with glistening tears, like diamonds.

“I can’t lose you again,” she whispered.

Percy had yearned for too long; he let go of that rope tugging him in the opposite direction and instead let Annabeth in. They melted into each other, both shamelessly giving away the little warmth they preserved. It was the kind of hug that felt like a lifeline, the kind that made them both sway like the tide.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into her curls.

She held him tighter. “I missed you, too.”

“But I have to fight this one myself.”

Annabeth pulled away slightly—and when he saw the look on her face—he knew that she knew.

“HEY, SHRIMPZILLA!”

The Scolopendra reared its head, even uglier up close. Its nostrils flared with hairs, beady eyes staring down at him. When he charged, the monster bellowed and threw itself in the water, sending sprays taller than a house.

But none of it touched Percy.

He didn’t stop running, a plan in mind. Meanwhile, the sea churned around him in one giant mass of power, but it parted with each step he took, forming a trail of now exposed ocean floor. Water collided with the sky, flying with the salt in the air.

Hello, friend, it seemed to say. Or rather, hum. The sea was a song, and he was just there to dance to its melody.

The Scolopendra had disappeared again.

He didn’t look back, though he knew the entire camp was there, watching—maybe in awe, but he didn’t care enough to find out. He kept walking, alone, surrounded by a pool of green and blue. Was this how Moses felt, In those stories he’d heard? Bricks of ocean water, flinging up into the sky, just so that Percy could pass. The feeling distracted him from the objective.

That’s what he’d argue later, because Percy can’t explain how the monster managed to sneak up to him that easily.

The pool of green seemed endless. There was a moment where nothing moved, not even the water. But then something did tug him violently, up, up into the sky.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream out, the breath stolen from his lungs and the icy rush of air when flung into the sky nauseating. The only feeling he knew was of the Scolopendra and its death grip on his entire body.

With each second, the roiling waters grew farther and farther away. The Scolopendra’s growl, however, couldn’t have sounded closer. Sharp claws sank into his chest and arms. If he didn’t react now, he’d be eaten before the next flash of lightning struck the sea.

Somehow, he managed to uncap Riptide.

And with a scream, he stabbed, as hard as he could.

“Hey. Want company?” A soft voice said.

He craned his neck around.

Annabeth subconsciously made the world easier to look at. Especially now, as she stood behind him in the pier with the last vestiges of harsh sun striking her back. Her stance was stiff, hesitant. He understood why.

So instead his eyes bored into his lap. He shrugged.

That was a sign enough for her. She crouched next to him, pulling her legs under herself and then flinging them out to where the wooden planks ended and the open air began, toes nearly kissing the placid lake.

She sat next to him, quiet as the wind. It took a few seconds or minutes or hours before she decided to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

From his peripheral vision, he could tell that she’d been studying him instead of watching the reflection of herons flying above the water. Something he’d thought she’d been doing. Apparently not.

It also took him seconds or minutes or hours before he could respond.

“What for?”

She exhaled, “Letting you go alone. Being a part of the campers who…”

She didn’t finish that sentence. He knew why.

Being a part of the campers who abandoned you alone after what you did.

“S’okay. I get it.”

A lie. He didn’t get it.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

He stared at his hands. “Guess not.”

The details of the fight were yet to go away. The memories were still fresh—like his mother’s batch of cookies whenever he came home from camp. Teeth were ever-present in his mind. And those webbed hands. Those twisted sounds as a monster choked on its own blood.

Afterward, everyone had taken a step back. Even Annabeth and Chiron seemed to contemplate him as though he were doomed. Maybe he was.

“I wish Grover were here.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth sighed. She kicked her leg up, swatting at some mosquitos. “Me too.”

“He’d pull our shit together, fix everything.” He found himself sounding wistful, longing for a missing piece of himself all of a sudden.

She didn’t reply to that. They both missed their best friend. Now, more than ever. Percy tried to not dwell too much on the fact that Grover hadn’t responded to his Iris Messages or to his calls from their shared empathy link.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No, Percy. I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Just look at me.”

He did the opposite, gazing at the trees to his left. They were a deep, mystical green. The colors looked like the ocean, where he’d displayed his powers for everyone to see. Worst mistake of his life. He realized that tears had begun to form in his eyes; he quickly blinked them away.

“Percy,” Annabeth insisted.

Her tone wasn’t hash or demanding—but rather, a light pink sky. A hand brushing his, sweet and tender. He noticed that it wasn’t just his imagination; glancing down, he found her fingers ghosting against his knuckles.

“Please look at me.”

This was eerily familiar. It hit him, then, that he’d said those exact words when she’d panicked about him going alone to fight the Scolopendra.

Hesitantly, his eyes focused on her face. Her freckles were there, golden like the rest of her. Only now, her eyes were rimmed with tears.

Something changed inside them both. She stared at him, he stared at her. Her face contorted, and the both broke down, crumbling like ruins with the slightest gust.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clinging to his shirt.

“Me too,” he murmured back.

He held unto her as if she were a life force, breathing in her lemony scent. Tears were exchanged, mingling in the other’s hair. They held each other, an embrace that didn’t deserve to end. It only made him cry harder, while Annabeth held him closer.

“Why are you sorry?”

He couldn’t say it out loud.

I’m sorry for why we’re like this. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry for leaving.

Instead, he pulled away. He studied her, every single feature, from those grey eyes and that upturned nose to those curls that no longer appeared to look like a princess.’ They were just Annabeth’s.

“I scared you,” he said.

His arms loosened around her, just now realizing how long they’d hugged, but their hands stayed interlocked—like some sort of middle ground.

She regarded him, eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t ever be scared of you,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re my best friend, Perce.”

He looked away. “Everyone else was.”

“I should have gone to you after—I just...I thought you were angry at me.”

Their hands separated. “Why would I be angry at you?”

“Because I let you handle all of it alone. The monster, the campers—”

“‘Beth.” He took her hands again, cupping them with his. “I couldn’t ever be angry at you.”

“That’s not true,” she said wryly.

An observation, not an accusation. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He recalled the shouting, the fights. The only thing they looked for in those moments was to hurt the other, twist and pull at any chink in the armor they could find.

She winced, remembering that, too. “Sorry.”

His mouth twitched. “You’ve said ‘sorry’ too many times. It’s getting repetitive.”

She hit his shoulder playfully. “Well, I mean it.”

He didn’t retort anything back. They found peace in this lake, once again gazing at the horizon.

“It’s not true what you said, either,” he said, his mind lingering on what she’d told him earlier. “You’re scared, as well.”

The sound of the incoming crickets carried on in Annabeth’s hesitation.

That is, until she said, “I am. Scared. I’m scared.” He glanced over. She was staring in his direction, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I.”

She laughed, breathless. “See that’s what scares me. What else can you do? Honestly?”

He shrugged, turning away from her.

“How’d you do that, anyway?”

“I defeated it, didn’t I?” It was better to deflect than to answer her question.

Defeating the monster should’ve been what mattered, anyway.

“Percy.”

“Annabeth,” he said, in the same condescending tone.

“All I’m saying is that you could hurt yourself. You don’t know what you’re capable of. And then when your birthday happens—”

“You think I’m going to destroy Olympus or something?” He shook his head. “I should’ve known that you’d side with the gods on that, too. You think that they should kill me?”

“What? Percy, I’d never—”

He whirled, facing her, and finally let go of all those pent-up thoughts that just like the sea, wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Just admit it, Annabeth! Admit that it freaked you out that I blood bended or whatever the fuck Chiron called it! Admit, that it freaked you out how I killed that monster! That I’m fucking cursed!”

“Percy Jackson, you are not—”

“Yes, I am. Why would my dad give me powers like that? Huh? Just say it with me: you’re scared—of me.”

Her eyes were red, face hard as stone. Just like her voice when she said, “Look. I just wanted to help. But if you want to sit in your self pity, then go for it! You clearly don’t need me.”

She made no move to leave, however.

Their eyes held, until the anger from both of them melted. He huffed out a breath, shoulders hunching. “We can’t ever stop fighting, can we?”

She sighed.

“Guess not.”

“I won’t do that again.”

She lifted her chin. “Why?”

“Like you said. Scared you.”

That made her purse her lips.

“You’re not cursed, Percy. You know that, right?”

She reached for his hand. It was becoming a strange routine. Finding comfort in hand holding and then dismantling it as if it never happened.

“You’re mostly right all the time, so.” He squeezed her hand. “I s’pose I’m not cursed, then.”

“I’m right most of the time?” she said, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded. “You’re right only sometimes.”

She opened her mouth in mock-offense. “Percy Jackson—”

He cut her off with his laugh, a laugh that fit with the music of the crickets. She rolled her eyes, something that he’d missed achingly, now that he saw her do it for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Scooting closer, she nudged him. “I could help you. Alongside Clarisse.”

His eyes widened. “You knew about that?”

“She’s my friend, too.”

“Of course she is,” he muttered.

Him and Clarisse...they might’ve had a rocky relationship when he’d first arrived at camp, but now, he didn’t know what he’d do without her help—without her friendship. They both understood the other in a bizzare, not very common way. She’d helped him hone in his powers, but it had yet to be something he’d wanted to admit to Annabeth. To everyone else, for that matter.

“I get why you didn’t want to tell me,” she said. “But...I do want to help. You’re my best friend, and, and I also want to spend time with you. If...that’s alright.”

“It’s alright by me.”

Annabeth gave him a look.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He tried for a smile. “I guess you could come along, then.”

His grin was shared with her, though her eyes were serious. “You’ll see. We’ll figure out your powers. What you can do, why you can do it, why the sea is affecting you…”

“All of it?”

She nodded. “All of it.”

They left it at that, though what they didn’t leave was the canoe pier. Not until the sun hid under the trees, spilling its ink of reds and oranges across the horizon.

The golden of the sun was replaced by the silver of the moon for the night, then it rose again for the day.

And in between, the waves lapped against the shore, constant and content. The ocean had calmed. For now.

#percy jackson #pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #powerful percy jackson #look mom i can write #pre tlo #percy jackon and the olympians #chb #also don't judge i just finished this #i pormised syd i'd post it today and i did!!#pogo🤸‍♀️

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Permafrost: Chapter 1

Summary: After Virgil agrees to follow Roman into the Imagination, a shift in the weather and an unfortunate misstep sends Virgil plummeting into uncharted waters. If only it didn't take a matter of life or death and a race against time to realize the Prince might not hate him after all.

TW: Drowning, progressing hypothermia, effects of severe cold

Notes: Romantic Prinxiety (pre relationship, they’re pining idiots) Right now I think this will only be a couple chapters, but let me know if I should make a taglist for this story!

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“This is stupid,” Virgil said for the third time in the last ten minutes. “We’re gonna freeze to death.”

It was very clearly pissing Roman off, and if he wasn’t so miserable he’d be grinning like an idiot at the Prince’s clear exasperation. “We’re not going to freeze. Don’t be dramatic, Negative Nancy, that’s my thing.”

Virgil scoffed, glancing up at the expanse of snow covered trees towering overhead, branches bare and twisted, coated in sparkling white. It felt endless, everything around them perfectly identical and a little overwhelming.

He shuddered as the wind picked up again, drowning out anything he might have been about to say, and he absently shook off snow sticking to his shoes, really wishing he’d decided to wear his combat boots today.

Then again, he hadn’t expected to be trapped in the Imagination in below freezing weather.

“Let me complain, Princey,” he said, hoping that their familiar banter could make this whole thing suck a little bit less. “You’re the one that trapped me in here.”

“You’re the one that agreed to follow me,” Roman shot back, a little more sharp than Virgil had been hoping for. “You didn’t have to.”

“You invited me. And someone has to make sure you don’t get killed in here.”

“I’m perfectly capable,” Roman said. “The cold is no match for a dashing Prince! Besides, the beast is dead, my realm is perfectly safe when I need it to be- if it weren’t for someone refusing to enjoy the scenery, this might actually be a nice walk.”

“It’s freezing and we have to walk for another hour,” Virgil argued. “How the hell am I supposed to enjoy this?”

It hadn’t been snowing when they’d first stepped into the Imagination, some two hours ago now. It had been warm and sunny, the world around them lush and green, bright and inviting as Virgil followed Roman on his apparently routine adventure.

He hoped it hadn’t been obvious how excited he’d been when Roman had asked him to come along. He and the Prince had never been close, (that was putting it lightly, Virgil was all too aware of how much Roman hated Anxiety) but ever since Virgil had revealed his name things had been...better.

Not great, nowhere near perfect, but better. Their fights had started to devolve into banter, and Virgil found he actually enjoyed talking to Roman now. He wasn’t reduced to a villain anymore, and he’d never actually realized just how much he hated the tight feeling in his chest when Thomas had always dismissed him as the bad guy. He’d been pushing the hurt down for so long and now…

Now wasn’t the time to think about it. Now was the time to focus on moving forward, as shaky as the progress was sometimes. It was still progress.

Virgil knew Roman didn’t like him, and he probably had no intention of even being real friends, any effort to be polite for Patton and Logan’s sake only.

Which Virgil might have been able to live with, if he hadn’t recently figured out that he really, really liked Roman.

He’d sort of...not actually hated the Prince for a while now, just another hopeless, gnawing feeling that drove him to consider ducking out in the first place.

The feelings had come out of nowhere, slowly sneaking up on him and only growing now that they were closer, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

The things Roman did that Virgil had once thought were annoying became...begrudgingly endearing. His rants, his dramatic gestures, the constant singing and humming under his breath...it was all so stupidly charming. Roman was funny and kind and passionate and brave and...and Virgil might have developed a little bit of a crush.

Dammit.

He knew nothing would come from it. He could be pretty stupid, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think otherwise. Roman had declared him an enemy since day one, and Virgil was just beginning to hope the Prince might actually tolerate him enough to call him a friend. Just a friend.

But Roman had invited him into the Imagination today, to be an extra set of eyes while he slayed the monster patrolling the realm, and Virgil had agreed without a second thought. If he and Roman could just learn to coexist...Virgil didn’t need anything else. Anything was better than being hated.

And having Roman as a friend was far from the worst thing in the world. It still gave him the Prince’s smiles, his laughs, and his company.

That being said, trudging through the snow and freezing his ass off for the next hour was not how he’d like to be spending the day. Why couldn’t Princey invite him to do something normal like watching a movie?

“Aren’t you supposed to be Creativity?” Virgil called over the wind picking up. God, it was cold. “Why can’t you just change the weather back?”

Roman had his back to him, keeping a few paces ahead, but Virgil could practically feel his eye roll. “I don’t control the weather here. Thomas does.”

“Thomas?”

“Not intentionally,” Roman said. “When it’s snowing like this, it probably means he’s worried or…or stressed about something.”

Virgil didn’t miss the slight hesitation, the way Roman glanced back at him, and he instinctively hunched his shoulders and pulled his hood tighter around himself.

It wasn’t his fault. He knew everyone liked to point fingers and place the blame on Anxiety whenever Thomas wasn’t feeling his best, but Virgil wasn’t here to hurt him. He just wanted to help, and he’d been trying so hard to be better lately, but he still managed to be the bad guy.

He opened his mouth to mutter an apology the Prince would probably only scoff at, but Roman beat him to it.

“Ignore that,” he said quickly, tone suddenly nowhere near his usual bravado. “I didn’t mean to imply...nevermind. Sorry.”

It was clearly forced and a little desperate, just like it had been in front of the others whenever Roman would catch himself on an insult or a nickname, but Virgil found he appreciated the effort all the same. As awkward as it was.

“It’s fine,” Virgil said. “Seriously, it’s whatever. I’ll...I can check on Thomas when we get back.”

Roman didn’t respond, but he did look over once again to flash Virgil a genuine smile, and he forcibly pushed down the butterflies rising up in his chest. It was just Roman. He was not about to get flustered because Roman had smiled at him.

But maybe it was a sign that they were getting somewhere. Maybe-

“Shit!”

Virgil froze, Roman’s curse almost drowned out by the sudden CRACK that echoed through the snowy forest. A chunk of ice broke under Roman’s boot, just big enough for him to stumble, his leg disappearing up to his knee.

“God dammit that’s freezing!”

“I thought the cold didn’t bother you,” Virgil teased before he could stop himself. He moved to help, only for Roman to hold out a warning hand. “You ok?”

“I’m fine.” The Prince wobbled a bit before he managed to pull his leg up and out of the ice, the soaked and dripping cloth clinging to his skin. “Except that my leg is going to fall off!”

Virgil couldn’t imagine how cold that must be, to feel icy cold wind against soaked clothes, but he could recognize that Roman wasn’t actually hurt or scared, despite the way he’d started shivering a bit. Thank god the water was only up to his knee.

“Stop panicking,” Virgil said, and smirked despite his own rising worry. “That’s my thing, Princey.”

Roman scoffed and shook out his leg, drops of water seeping into the plush white snow. The ice they hadn’t even realized they’d been walking on creaked under the movement and Virgil paled, eyes flying to Roman who quickly noticed the anxious side’s distress.

“Relax,” the Prince said. “It was just a weak spot, and it’s only a couple inches deep. I could reach the bottom.”

“We should still be worried about getting our clothes wet in this weather.” It seemed to have gotten colder, even as Virgil remained perfectly dry. “Didn’t Logan do a whole lecture about hypothermia a few years ago?”

“We’re not getting hypothermia, Panic at the Everywhere. Logan gives a lecture on everything. Worst case scenario is I come down with a little cold, and our dear Patton feels guilty and smothers me for a few days.”

Virgil laughed, carefully stepping around the hole Roman had created. “I’m pretty sure it’s not Patton’s fault you’re so clumsy.”

“No, but he practically forced me to bring you out here.” And just like that Virgil’s good mood was gone, stomach twisting uncomfortably as the words set in.

It shouldn’t be a surprise- of course Roman wouldn’t voluntarily spend the day with him. Patton wanted everyone to get along for Thomas’s sake, and he’d made Roman drag Virgil along like an unwanted nuisance.

“Oh.”

“So if we look miserable enough when we get back, we can coax Pat into making us cookies and hot chocolate,” Roman said, and he didn’t seem to notice Virgil’s shift in mood. “Just try to watch your step, ok?”

Roman clearly didn’t think he had said anything wrong, only scowling at his now soaking wet pant leg before turning to continue forward. He obviously thought Virgil knew this, that he wasn’t stupid enough to think he was actually wanted.

Well, at least Roman was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Even if Virgil apparently was that stupid.

They kept walking, Virgil ending up trailing a bit behind with slightly numb hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets. Roman managed to make it even farther ahead, humming some vaguely familiar tune as he watched the snowfall, and Virgil wondered if he should just let the Prince make the rest of the walk by himself, kind of wanting to just lay down and let the snow bury him.

The wind was picking up, and Virgil was clearly finding it more difficult to trek through the snow than Roman was. The Prince didn’t seem inclined to leave him behind though, slowing down and smiling patiently at the anxious side every few moments, letting him catch up on his own time.

He wondered why Roman didn’t just quicken his pace and leave him. It wasn’t like Virgil would go tell Patton just to get him in trouble. As much as it hurt knowing Roman wanted nothing to do with him, that someone had to make Roman spend time with him, it hurt worse to think that the Prince had just been faking it.

He’d thought...God, he’d actually thought they might be getting somewhere. That maybe, maybe Virgil’s feelings for the Prince weren’t as pointless as they’d once been.

The soft little smiles sent his way, the light touches on Virgil’s back or shoulder, the quiet jokes meant just for him, the way Roman’s eyes would linger for just a second…

He noticed it a second too late, caught up in his own head instead of paying careful attention to where he was stepping like he usually would, only pulled from his thoughts by another ear splitting crack as a piece of ice gave way right where he’d stepped down.

It was sudden and loud, and Virgil yelped when he stumbled and fell to the ground, hands losing feeling completely as they grabbed at the snow and his foot disappeared under the ice.

“Fuck- Roman!”

He heard Roman laugh, but it was almost impossible to make out over the howling of the wind and the pounding of his own heart. The water was so cold, (thank god he’d managed to stop himself before it went past his shin) like a million little knives dancing along his skin, paying no mind to what little protection his clothes offered.

“You’re fine,” Roman called, voice small and distant like he’d kept walking. Virgil didn’t dare look up, eyes on the ground beneath his hands. “It’s not deep, Virge, you can stand up.”

Virgil nodded even though he doubted Roman could see it, his voice refusing to cooperate. He squeezed numb hands into shaky fists, took a breath, and pushed himself up to stand on his free leg.

The next moment happened so fast, Virgil didn’t even register that more ice had broken under his weight until he felt himself falling, and suddenly the icy cold water was much higher than just his leg.

It felt like he’d been hit by a bus- a very, very cold bus- and Virgil gasped as all the ice below him gave way, the water rising up to his chest, wrapping around his body like a vice and yanking him forward without warning.

It was like hundreds of frozen hands were grabbing at him and tugging viciously, shoving him along with the water’s surprisingly violent current while trying to drag him down below the dark surface. Virgil barely had half a second to force his arms to move, frantically reaching for the nearest chunk of intact ice.

He couldn’t feel his fingers, and his hands were shaking so bad he almost didn’t make it, but he managed to get a grip on the edge just in time.

He gasped as he pulled himself to a sudden stop against the relentless current, weakening arms protesting the sudden strain, choking and coughing on the frigid water that managed to lap at the corners of his mouth.

“Princey!” he tried to scream, but he could barely hear himself over the roar of the river. The water hurt, the cold seeping into his skin and stealing his breath, and it took all of his quickly fleeting energy to keep holding on. “Roman!”

There was no response, at least not one that Virgil could hear, and he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head to see if help was coming, terrified that if he looked away from his hands he’d forget how to hold on.

He had to strain to keep his head above water, and he felt like there were boulders in his pockets weighing him down. He was left kicking desperately against the water, because it was definitely not shallow enough for him to stand.

Roman had said it was. Roman had laughed and kept walking and he’d...he hadn’t...he hadn’t left, had he? If he’d done this on purpose-

The dread and fear that came with the thought was almost more overwhelming than the thought of drowning, and Virgil squeezed his eyes shut as he tightened his hold, because Roman wouldn’t do that. He may not like Virgil, but he wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t...he wouldn’t do this.

A grim voice in the back of his head told him Roman wouldn’t care, that Virgil would never be worth worrying about. Maybe it wasn’t the wind and rushing water blocking out the Prince’s voice...maybe he’d really just already walked away.

He choked back tears and put all his fading focus into staying above the water, the current’s pull growing stronger as his kicking became weaker and weaker. He couldn’t keep holding on. It was so cold and he was so tired-

“Virgil!”

Roman? It was so hard to tell for sure, everything distant and hazy compared to the roaring in his ears and his own too shallow breaths.

Oh god, he couldn’t hold on, he was slipping, he was going to fall-

“Virgil! Hold on, I’m coming!” Either that was Roman, or Virgil’s brain was being very cruel to him right before he died. The latter honestly seemed more likely. “Hold on, please just- I’m coming just hold on!”

He couldn’t feel his hands, barely able to comprehend anything around the all consuming pain settled around him like a blanket, leaving him shaking and numb, teeth chattering in his skull louder than a gunshot and he couldn’t do this- he couldn’t hold on he couldn’t-

“Virgil!”

Virgil didn’t even register what had happened, left only to wonder why the strain on his arms had suddenly been lessened for a single blissful second before realizing his frozen hands had slipped from the ice.

There wasn’t time to take another breath, the river seizing its opportunity to rise above his head and push him under the dark and freezing water, everything suddenly horribly silent.

#fanfiction #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #thomas sanders #sanders sides #hurt/comfort #this fic is so self indulgent you guys #writing

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azaleavi · 3 years

Text

Woman like me - Part 3

Summary: Y/n and Bucky get a little closer while in Latvia

Word count: 2.8k

Warning(s): language(?)

Author’s note: Part 3 is finally here! I hope you’ll like reading as much as i liked writing it. The text in italics are y/n’s thoughts. Also I changed from “she” to “you” I hope you guys don’t mind.

Feedback is always appreciated and don't forget to reblog and like if you liked it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

(gif is mine)

The four of you were sitting in the private plane, going wherever Zemo was taking you. Bucky was sitting across from you, cleaning his vibranium arm. You were watching him intently, fascinated by the arm. Your had heard stories of the man of course, but he seems so much different just sitting there than what you were told about the ruthless assassin. Bucky noticed you watching, but he didn’t let you know. Instead he flexed his hand and because of that you slightly moved in your seat, feeling weird inside. You want to touch the metal and run your finger along it. You grabbed your own hand instead as if to physically stop yourself from moving. Bucky stopped and looked up at you.

“You okay?” he asked. You panicked for a second and tried to come up with something normal to say. You didn’t understand why you were feeling this way around the man but you needed to stop.“Yeah, it’s just…” you went silent for a second, eyes going down to his arm then continuing much quieter “it’s just cool” your eyes widened. You didn’t want to say that out loud. I’m supposed to be a super-soldier for god’s sake how can’t I just keep my mouth shut around him!

“Cool?” Bucky leaned forward, thinking he heard you wrong “You think my arm is cool?” he was trying to hold back a laugh. He must be thinking that you are an idiot. You cleared your throat and tried to change the subject.

“So where did you get it from? In the older pictures I think it was silver” seriously that’s the best thing you could come up with? You scolded yourself. Bucky was still trying to hide his smile.

“They gave me a new one in Wakanda” he answered. Your eyes lit up.

“Wakanda? Isn’t that where the Black Phanter is from?” you smiled, scooting forward in your chair with child-like wonder clear in your eyes. You loved the stories about that part of the world and the technology they used, and to get a chance to talk to someone who has seen it in real life was truly amazing.

“Yes, T’Challa.”

“Oh, you know him?” your smile became brighter at the mention of the king. Bucky decided he loved to see your smile so he told you about the king and the people. He liked to talk about his stay there because he never was so peaceful in his life like he was in Wakanda. You hung onto every word he said, giving him your full attention. Sam watched the two from where he is sitting with a smile on his face. He has never seen his partner this talkative but he was glad Bucky finally has some normalcy in his life. Even if it’s with another super-soldier.

“It must have been so nice to live there” you mused. Bucky was looking at you with a small smile on his lips. Talking about Wakanda always lift his mood and to have someone who is is excited to hear about it makes him so happy “So they gave you the arm as a gift?” you went back to the original topic of the conversation.

“More like to fight. You know the whole Thanos situation” he thought back to those times. It hasn’t been that long ago for him, but for the people who stayed behind it had been more than five years. You faltered a little at that.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked” you said looking down. you didn’t want to bring up bad memories.

“No, it’s okay. It already happened, we can do anything about it” he reassured you. You looked up into his eyes, just now noticing how beautiful they were. Funny enough, Bucky thought the same about yours. Averting your eyes, they landed on his chest. The jacket he had on looked way too good on him and you could see the outline of his dog tags under his shirt. You moved in the seat again. You have never even kissed a man but here you were wanting to jump his bones. You suddenly stood up.

“I- I need to use the bathroom” stuttering you walked away as the men watched. Sam looked at Bucky and raised his eyebrows knowingly.

“What?” Bucky asked, not understanding why he was looking at him like that.

“Nothing” Sam said, turning away so the other man didn’t see his smile.

Meanwhile you were in the bathroom, splashing your face with water. You need to get it together y/n. He is just a man. A very sexy man and I would do anything to have his di… you shook your head, leaning against the sink. Okay we are not going there while he is right outside! Why were you so obsessed with him? Yes he was handsome but it’s not like you haven’t seen handsome men before. He was the first to be this nice and make you feel like a normal person though. Maybe that was it. But it doesn’t matter because he would never look at you like that and you really didn’t have time for feelings. There were super-soldiers on the loose, who needed to be stopped. You shook your head again and dried your hands. This would be a long journey if you couldn’t keep your emotions in check around him.

The four of you were walking in the streets of Latvia when you noticed Bucky looking on the ground for a brief second. Following his line of sight you saw a little silver ball. You opened your mouth to ask him about it, but he spoke up first.

“I’m gonna go for a walk” he said as you stopped in front of a pretty old building. You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling like something was wrong. The other two men walked up the stairs while you stayed in the same place, looking at Bucky with worry in your eyes. He looked back at you and smiled a little.” It will be a few minutes, you can go up with them” he tried to reassure you. You nodded and walked after Zemo. Those little balls had to mean something, you just hoped it was nothing bad. You walked into the nice apartment that Zemo had, deciding to wait for Bucky on the couch.

You listened to Sam and Zemo argue about the serum when Sam brought up the man who has been occupying your mind for the last two days.

“What is taking Bucky so long?” he spoke up from where he was sitting at the bar and just like that the mentioned man walked through the door. You let out a quiet laugh which made Bucky look at you.

“The Dora Milaje is here and they are looking for Zemo” he walked over to you and sat down on your right so close that your thighs were touching. You stiffened and you were sure he felt it because he turned to you. You thought he would move away but instead he put an arm on the back of the couch behind you so he basically had his arm around your shoulders, all while looking straight into your eyes. You could feel your cheeks heat up, but couldn’t move your eyes away. He continued talking while keeping the eyecontact.” I bought us some time, but we need to be quick” Sam cleared his throat which broke the two of you out your haze. You turned around to him, only to see him smirking at you. You looked down, embarrassed that they both saw that. Tuning out their conversation you leaned back, forgetting that Bucky’s arm was still behind you so you accidentaly put your head on his arm. He didn’t seem to care so you tried to act like you didn’t either and closed your eyes. You were tired from all the fighting and flying.

A few minutes later you felt the arm under you move and you opened your eyes. What you did not expect to see is Bucky’s face a few inches from yours. His right hand was almost touching your cheek. Your eyes widened, but you were frozen in your spot. Why was he always so close to me? Your eyes moved down from his beautiful blues to his invinting lips. Oh god, he was so close. If I leaned forward a little I could kiss him. Before you could continue that thought he backed away from you.

“We need to go” he cleared his throat, his voice a little raspy. He stood up, pulling his arm from under you and started walking to the front door. You followed suit after him.

Meeting John Walker was not something that was on your bucket list. The dude was an asshole and the way he ordered around everyone was making you quickly irritated. You lied about being a super-soldier, to him you were just a friend of Sam’s. Him not knowing about your powers meant you couldn’t help the boys when everything went south. Bucky told you to stay back, but you needed to help in some way after all they had done for you. They saved you from Madripoor after all and even if the codes were still in your head they trusted you enough to keep you around.

You met up with Sam and Zemo back at the house, Zemo looked like he got a pretty bad headache. Most likely deserved. When you couldn’t find Bucky anywhere in the house you started to panic. Sam saw it and calmed you down, saying that he could be here any minute. After a few minutes Bucky walked through the door, taking his gloves off.

“Something is not right about Walker.” he said as he walked over to the bar while taking off his jacket. Why was that black shirt so tight?

“You don’t say?” Sam answered him, a smirk evident on his lips.

“I know crazy when I see one, ‘cause I am crazy” Bucky opened the cupboard and took out a whiskey bottle.

“Are you trying to get drunk in the middle of the day?” you asked, standing up from your seat, walking over to him and sitting on a bar stool.” Is that what crazy entails?” you joked. He lifted the glass to his lips while looking at you.

“We can’t get drunk darling. The serum prevents that.” he drowned the drink in one swift motion and poured himself another one. ”you want some?” he motioned towards the empty glasses.

“S- sure” you stuttered, brain going into overdrive from the pet name he just called you. You definitely wanted some, but it wasn’t the whiskey you were thinking about. His black shirt was not helping either. Bucky seemed to notice how your mind was somewhere else and he walked around the counter to stand next to you. He lifted his glass that had already been refilled by him, and tapped the edge of the glass to your lower lip. You stared at him, eyes wide, your mouth slightly open.

“So are you gonnna drink it?” he smirked, clearly seeing the effect he had on you. In your hazy mind you didn’t register that you should lift your hands and take the glass from him. Instead you put your lips around the edge of the glass and waited for him to tilt it while still looking into his eyes. He stared at you for a second, swallowed and then tilted the glass so the liquid reached your mouth. You took a sip. It did not taste good so you grabbed his hand that was still holding the glass and pushed it away.

“This definitely won’t be my favorite drink” you coughed a few times. Bucky let out a little laugh, putting his hand, that wasn’t being held by yours, on your thigh. Is he trying to kill me? You gulped, your grip thightening on his hand. He leaned closer to you, the smirk still evident on his lips. The lips that were once again very close to yours. You could feel his breath on your face. If he doesn’t kiss me right now I will lose my mind. You didn’t know what Zemo and Sam were doing but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted his lips on yours. Something about this man made you very needy and as the day progressed it got harder to hide it. His sight slipped down to your lips and just as you thought he might do exactly what you wanted John Walker burst through the door. Bucky backed away immediately and you looked down clearing your throat, blush tainting your cheeks.

“All right, that’s it, let’s go” John said as he and Lemar walked to the middle of the room. “I am now ordering you to turn him over” he pointed at Sam while Bucky walked to the chair next to you and sat down.

“Okay slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you are running in here is your mouth.” you turned away from them and towards Bucky so John wouldn’t see you laughing. Bucky on the other hand had a clear view of your joy. “Now I had Karli and you overstepped” Sam continued “He has actually proven himself useful today” he pointed at Zemo who walked towards the two of you.” And we’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever is coming next”

John put down the shield and started running his mouth again and the next thing you knew there was a spear lodged inside the wall next to him. A woman in wakandan clothes was standing in the room and other two walked in through the front door. You raised your eyebrows impressed. That was cool. Bucky sighed next to you. The one who seemed to be the leader started speaking wakandan to Bucky. You didn’t understand a word of it but it must have been nothing good because he looked down like a child who was being scolded.

“Release him to us now.” she said in english. John couldn’t keep his ego in check once again and Sam tried to get him to back down but it was no use. As soon as John touched the woman he found himself on the ground. These women are amazing. They started fighting and you just looked around, unsure what to do. Sam walked closer to you and Bucky stood up, making you look at him.

“We should do something” Sam said to him as you walked over to them.

“Looking strong John” Bucky shouted at the man still getting his ass beaten. You snorted. Sam called his name in warning so Bucky intervened, grabbing the woman’s spear. “Ayo, let’s talk about this” Sam went to the other side of the room, also trying to stop what was happening. You were still standing in the same place, still not knowing if you should help or stay out of it. Your problem was solved when a spear flung at you and you had to step to the side and catch it with one hand. The wakandan woman studied you for a second then ran towards you, clearly wanting to fight. You flipped the spear around in your right hand so the sharp end was aimed at the ground. You didn’t want to harm her but that didn’t mean you would let her beat you. She threw a few punches at you, but you managed to block them. You tried hitting her with the spear, but she caught it, making your faces get close to each other. She pushed against you but she wasn’t stroungh enough to get you on the ground. You saw the realization in her eyes at your strenght. She tilted the metal so it hit you on the head and you stumbled backwards in pain. You heard something heavy hit the ground next to you but you didn’t have time to look as the woman came at you again, now with the knowledge that you were a super-soldier. She fought harder and faster than before, but still couldn’t hit you hard enough. You grabbed her weapon again, pulling it with all your strength. When she couldn’t hold it anymore you lifted your right leg and kicked her backwards. She fell over and you pointed the sharp metal at her neck, panting. You looked up just now noticing that everyone in the room was looking at the two of you. Sam was on the ground while John was pinned to a table by a spear and Bucky was holding his metal arm in his right hand, eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. You dropped the weapon, realizing your mistake. No one should know that you are a super-soldier, especially not John Walker and he was looking right at you with wide eyes.

Oh no.

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