#and today I won float pool’s first one

[andhumanslovedstories]

Also today I got a nursing award! This is how we’ve decided to display it.

[secretlittl3whore]

Out Of Bullets

summary: Y/N has always had a crush on the man who beat her record on the range. So what happens when he returns from a mission to find that the little lady has taken his words to heart and gotten better?!

Warnings: it’s smut y’all. P in v. Unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it). Fingering. Virgin sex.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem/reader

Totz my first smut! Critiques appreciated! Luvs y’all!

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The compound was pretty quiet during the twilight hours, and that was the absolute preference of Y/N. She did love people, don’t get her wrong, but there was something about her boots echoing off the empty hallways that brought solace. She continued her path to the shooting range, but almost turned around when she heard that distinct sound of bullets flying towards the paper targets.

“Ugh.” Y/N groaned. Then she caught a glimpse of a figure and couldn’t stop herself from drooling at the sight. He must’ve just returned from a mission, cuz he was still clad in his tactical gear. Holsters still attached and filled with weapons. Her eyes traveled downward resting on his thighs. Even those pants couldn’t hide those delicious features. A fire pooled deep within and subconsciously y/n started to rub her thighs together trying to create some sort of friction.

Did she hate him for beating her in everything? Yes, but that didn’t mean she hated him. No, every fiber of y/n’s being wanted him to bend her over the table and fuck her within an inch of her life. Not caring if someone walked in and saw, though someone definitely would eventually see cause of all the damn cameras Stark installed.

Almost as if he had heard her lustful thoughts, the man turned to look at her. He nodded a greeting and then went back to his drills. Must’ve went bad, y/n thought to herself.

She came to a stop beside him and watched him empty his clip before turning to her.

“Good morning Buck,” she stated cooly. Bucky just stared. “Bad mission?” His nostrils flared. Bingo.

“Sam is...fuck. He never has a fucking plan. Just jumps in.” He roared, gloved hands coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. Y/N stayed quiet, knowing to let him rant and not interject till he was finished. She learned the hard way that by doing so, he would shut down and not talk. Y/N prided herself on being a confidant. “He’s going to get someone killed!”. Absentmindedly he started twirling a vibranium knife in his gloved fingers before sinking it into the target that he had just been shooting at. Y/N closed her eyes quickly, knowing her pupils had blown out and stifled a small moan. Could he be any less sexy when he was mad?! Bucky took a deep breath, a sign that he was done ranting and y/n could talk.

“We both know that he’s stupid and reckless.” Bucky let out a gruff laugh, “and that’s why you are his partner because you balance him. The missions are most always successful with you two. It’s just going to take a few to get the rhythm right.” His eyes narrowed at y/n. She spoke truth, and he hated it. With a smug smile, y/n dumped her bag onto the other half of a table.

“Looking for a challenge or you done for today?” Bucky’s eyebrow raised quizzically and he smirked.

“A challenge? Have you been practicing what I showed you?” Y/N grinned and shook her head,

“No.” But that was a total lie. Before he had gone on the mission three weeks ago, they had spent around 6 hours in the range. It was grueling but he pushed her through drills and training. Since then, she had been in the range every day from twilight till noon practicing. Something flashed across his eyes, but disappeared just as quick. There was no way he could know she was lying...could he?

“You first doll.”

By the time y/n was nearly out of bullets, a small crowd had gathered in the viewing box. She was sure that she could see a certain redhead watching intently as y/n performed drill after drill. So focused on the target that she was missing the fact that his eyes hardly ever left her. How they softly caressed her figure and imagined stripping her, being inside her. Watching y/n go through these drills smoothly caused his dick to strain painfully against his pants.

Y/Ns gun clicked and that was it. She was officially out of bullets. She turned to Bucky and caught his eyes immediately. Had they always been that dark? She shook the thought out of her head and went to retrieve the targets. Bucky joined her silently. As they pulled down their targets he briefly dragged a digit along her hand, the leather feeling strangely cool against her skin. It caused a shiver and immediately a blush formed red hot across y/ns cheeks. No stop it! She told herself, it was an accident. Wasn’t it? Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of his profile. His eyes were still dark and he looked almost like he was in pain. Turning back to her target, she grinned widely. Her splatter of shots were centralized around the winning position. No outliers. She had certainly improved, and he had definitely noticed.

“I think you might have actually won this one.” He said through gritted teeth, enunciating the last word almost painfully. Y/N couldnt stop herself from celebrating out loud!

“Fuck yes! Told you I’d beat you Sarge!” There it was, that flash across his eyes, but this time it didn’t disappear as quickly. Y/N gulped as the man stared at her with such ferocity that she actually felt small.

“Want to try that again?” He asked, his voice quiet. She looked behind him and notice that the entirety of the audience had disappeared, almost as if they had never been there.

“I’m out of bullets.” Y/N said softly, her eyes.

“Did I say drills?” He said darkly, leaning in closely. She tried to sputter out a response but his lips captured hers in a gnash of teeth. Her response was immediately, letting that winning target float to the floor out of sight out of mind as she wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck.

Their lips moved with each other rhythmically. She felt his tongue on her lip and she welcomed him in, his taste intoxicating her, sending her head spinning. He pulled away suddenly, earning a small whine from her lips.

“Doll, I need you.” He said almost in a whisper as he leaned his forehead against hers. She almost gasped when she felt it, his dick pressing against her leg. Eyes darting she found the locker room and grabbed his hand, leading him quickly towards it. She found that small medical bay and locked them inside, pressing him against the door. Y/N leaned upwards to kiss him,

“Let me taste you.” She said seductively. He groaned throwing his head back against the door. She took that as a yes and dropped to her knees, making quick work of his pants. Her release was almost ripped from her when she released his dick and it slapped against his stomach. For a minute she paused. He was huge! Thick and glorious. The tip pulsating red and precun dripping. Was now the time to say she was a virgin? Would that make him stop? No, she had done enough research to know how to please a man...she hoped.

Languidly, she kitten licked along his shaft, taking in his scent and the taste of his skin. Bucky’s breathing quickened and she could hear the whirring of his vibranium arm as he clenched his fist. She licked a long stripe on the underside before taking his tip into her mouth. His breath hitched as she sucked.

“Doll,” his breath strangled, “doll you’ve got to move.” Fear struck, but she fought it and started bobbing her head. “Fuck, yes like that doll.” His flesh hand came to rest on her head, threading into her hair making a makeshift ponytail. He started taking over her movements. Y/N hollowed her cheeks like she learned, but it didn’t help when she felt him touch the back of her throat. She gagged painfully and pulled backwards roughly. Bucky stared down at her, eyes full of concern as she coughed harshly.

“Fuck doll. Shit I’m sorry. You just felt so good.” He cooed as he leaned down, grasping her face. She offered a small smile,

“I’m sorry.” Bucky grimaced, kissing her forehead softly.

“No y/n, it’s my fault. Nat said you were a virgin and I should’ve remembered...” he stopped dead in his tracks at the look upon y/ns face.

“She told you?!” She gasped. Bucky started scratching his the back of his head against he sat against the door, dick still hard and angry at being left without attention. She wasn’t angry at the fact that he knew, more so confused at all the conversation came up...or did Nat just offer that information freely l, that devious Russian mink.

“Ugh, yeah, she um...I’m sorry.” He made a move like he was gonna to get up but Y/Ns hand shot out and grabbed him by the vest.

“Don’t go. I...” she paused to collect her thoughts, Bucky looked at her sadly, pondering at what her response would be. “I still want you.” Bucky’s eyes snapped to hers,

“You do?” He asked surprised. Y/N chuckled at his response and leaned in towards him,

“I wouldn’t have sucked your dick if I didn’t.” The darkness returned to his eyes.

“I’ve wanted you for so long doll, are you sure?” She kissed him ferociously,

“Yes James,” Bucky groaned at the sound of his real name dripping from her lips. So low and sultry. He wanted to have her saying it over and over. He pulled y/n onto his lap, straddling her legs over his hips. He captured her lips as he kicked his pants off, but not before grabbing a certain leather strap.

Y/N’s whole body was on fire. This man’s smell, his taste, the feel of his skin, was so intoxicating she felt drunk and high at the same time. Was that even possible?

Suddenly her legs felt cold and then something warm was pressed against her ass. She pulled away and looked down, no he fucking didn’t. Looking back up, y/n noted a shit eating grin as he embedded the knife in the door behind him.

“You owe me new leggings.” She murmured, reaching down to unzip his vest. He shrugged it off and then took his shirt off. She couldn’t help but letting her hands explore the new territory, even taking a moment to trace the area where the metal met flesh. Y/N placed small open mouth kisses after the trails of her fingers, the scarred skin and metal creating a tingly texture against her lips.

“I’ll owe you a new shirt and bra too.” Before she could protest, they too were ripped from her body, that knife now embedded in the wall behind her. She tried glaring at him but couldn’t help but laugh at his grin.

“You are trouble Sarge.” He rutted his hips into her at the pet name and y/n bit back a moan. The movement caused his dick to slip underneath her and now it rested against her stomach, the red tip pleading with her for attention. She sighed and gripped him softly, before pumping. Bucky’s head hang low against his chest as his hands came to rest at her back. She hissed at the metal’s coldness but didn’t stop pumping. His breath quickened as she quickly spat into her other hand before switching them.

Bucky threw his head back against the door, eyes slammed shut and mouth agape, taking small uneven breaths.

“Doll...doll please,” he begged, his metal hand coming to clasp hers, stopping her actions. “I...want to feel you.” Y/N gulped, she was much smaller than this super soldier, he was going to rip her apart. Slowly she raised herself on her knees and Bucky gripped himself, pumping slowly. “Are you ready?” He asked gently. Despite the pounding in her ears, she nodded, but he didn’t move his dick forward. Instead she felt his flesh fingers touch her lips.

He gathered the wetness on his fingers and then gently circled her clit. Y/N felt her whole body shake and she leaned forward to grip his shoulders. As he leaned forward to capture her lips, he entered her with a single finger. Y/N threw her head back and let out a moan. Bucky took the opportunity to latch his lips against her neck, kissing, licking, biting, ensuring that she was marked. A second finger was entered and she could feel him working in and out of her. Breathing quickening, hands gripping, Y/N felt that she was going to explode. Then his thumb began playing at her clit.

“Ah...Bucky...I....” she moaned and he stopped. She groaned when he removed his fingers and stuck them in his mouth. Licking plump lips, he smiled deviously at her,

“Delicious,” he whispered. Leaning his forehead against hers he gently placed his hands on her hips. Guiding her onto himself, slowly, allowing her to get used to the feeling. Y/N felt tears on her cheeks, she felt full but also a dull burning pain. He kissed her cheeks, licking the tears away. And he was fully inside. He groaned at the feeling, burying his face within her neck.

They stayed like this for a moment before y/n felt a surge of confidence and, as Nat told her, started to rock forward. Bucky moaned against her neck, bringing his flesh hand to grab her ass while his metal tangled within her hair. Y/N quickened her pace, enjoying all the noises she heard from him.

Gripping y/ns hair tightly, he started to rut up into her, creating a rhythm. Y/N bit back a moan. He trailed his lips up to her ear,

“No doll, don’t hold those back, let me hear you.” As he said that, he hit a certain spot and Y/N saw white, moaning loudly. Such a promiscuous sound, she felt embarrassed, but as he continued at that angle, she forgot all embarrassment.

The feeling started in her stomach and started to grow. Her breath quickened and her heart started pounding again.

“Please, please, please” she moaned over and over again. “Buc...James...I, shit, I...”

“I got you doll, just let go. Cum for me.” And she did. He felt it on his legs and smelt it. God she smelled good. He continued his pace, going quicker now, chasing his own release. He pressed hard into her as he groaned her name against her shoulder, biting down on her clavicle.

Y/N leaned her forehead against his, eyes hazy. His blue orbs looked back at her and he chastely kissed her swollen lips.

“That...that was better than I imagined.” She whispered finally. Bucky chuckled,

“Oh so you’ve imagined riding me y/n?” She knew he was teasing her but she still blushed crimson. “You’ll have to tell me what else you’ve imagined and you’ll have to tell me which is better.” Oh she definitely knew now, which was better, but she couldn’t deny that she was excited to feel him inside again.

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy jack and tubbo

requested: yes/no

an: part 6 of the great adventures series - swimming with the boys

warning: cursing

an: starts with tubbo&y/n friendship as i had an idea, sorry if tumblr messes up paragraphs again, tried to make this gender neutral i’m sorry if it doesn’t come off that way, as always anything with y/n and the others especially tubbo is platonic

twitter had been going crazy the past few days. you had been telling your community something was happening, however you weren't going to tell them what. today was the day you were going to reveal what was happening, tubbo made a tweet that he was outside, and sent you a text he was in your street and to start streaming.

you started your stream like any other stream, however this time you were streaming from your phone rather than your pc, and at a much later time. you spent 10 minutes talking to chat, making comments that someone was going to randomly walk into your room of course your chat didn’t believe you until,

“Hiya y/n!”

tubbo walked into your room and stood behind your chair leaning over in order to give you a hug. chat started spamming asking what was going on.

“well chat tubbo is here for a reason and we’re not allowed to tell you why, but we did decide to stream late for a reason. you may notice it’s getting dark outside, however we’re doing a camping stream, except you ain’t watching us sleep!”

the stream wasn't going well, you and tubbo couldn’t put the tent up, mainly because you lost the pegs for the tent. you did however have an air mattress and two thick blankets. you both looked at each other and nodded. within 10 minutes the air mattress was blown up and had a blanket laying on it, and you and tubbo sat comfortably chatting to the viewers. within minutes the pair of you were trending again, this time with pictures of you both sat together with the blanket and fairy lights wrapped around you both so that you could both be seen on stream.

“well chat it’s getting pretty late we’re going to do something for a little while-”

“STARGAZING!”

“guess we’re going to stare at the stars for a bit, then figure out if we actually want to sleep outside. we will see you all later, thank you all for showing up to this random stream. i’m gonna raid ranboo, goodnight!” you waved goodbye and tubbo ended the stream for you. a shooting star was passing, full of excitement you tapped tubbos thigh and pointed at the star telling him to make a wish. the pair of you laid on the air mattress under the stars, eventuality you both drifted asleep.

the both of you woke up to the sound of your mother telling you that you had around an hour to get ready before jack and tommy would be there. soon enough, as always you and tubbo were sat in the back of jacks car while you set off on your adventure. like normal, you all sang along to the radio, until you and tommy decided to yell at random cars that passed you, giving jack flashbacks from the time he took you and tommy to tesco and a lake. this went on for a long time as the water park was a lot further than any other adventure you all went on. “is now a bad time to say i can’t swim?”

“are you joking y/n? please tell me you’re joking!”

you just sat laughing, tubbo took this as a sign to tell the now concerned jack that you could in fact swim, you just wanted to see their reaction.

“i thought you both said you were never going on an adventure with us again?”

“you know what they say...people change like the tides in the ocean...did i say that right?”

you and tommy filmed the intro to the vlog and then you all walked into the changing room. you and tubbo went off straight away to get ready, tommy and jack instantly commented on how warm it was, then putting the blame on the lights that looked like the sky, before deciding to get ready. like the others you wore a shirt over your swimsuit, the four of you then made your way to the pools.

“holy shit!”

“what the fuck there’s no one here like at all!”

you all passed the lifeguards on the way to the pools, thanking them for their service. you could already tell this was going to be a long day for them watching over all four of you, especially because you and tommy kept joking about drowning each other.

“this is ours...for the whole day!”

you stood recording your pov whilst tommy ran into the water, the rest of you following shortly after. for a few minutes you all decided to float in the wave pool, realising that shouting you were drowning or couldn’t swim probably wasn’t your smartest idea. everything was going well till you heard tubbo shouting to you and tommy as he realised he still had his phone in his pocket.

“next vlog is going to the apple store so tubbo can replace his phone..”

whilst he went to put his phone away, tommy dragged you under the water with him and jack for a split second, and wouldn’t tell you why.

“stop tryna drown me!”

you watched as tommy struggled to climb onto the surface nearby, followed by tubbo climbing on and being pushed off in seconds.

walking up the stairs you and tommy joked about this being physically exhausting,

“you both literally did a military assault course...this is a water park for children.”

you started defending your point that this was a lot more exhausting, especially as your ankle had only just healed from the military assault course. once up the stairs you were met by a capsule, you knew this as jack kept repeating that it was one. “thanks, jack we all know it’s a capsule now!”

you stood with jack as tommy decided to go first. you couldn’t lie you were thankful he was going first as that thing looked scary as hell, tubbo clearly agreed with you as you turned around to see him nervously laughing and walking around in circles. you turned around to jack making several comments about how scary it is, “looks like something jigsaw would put you in. it even has a control thingy.”

“i was taking you seriously till you said control thingy.”

you stood as a group watching as tommy got ready to go down the slide, you were nervous for him. you stood counting down as jack waved and tubbo stood with his hands covering his face as tommy went down the slide. jack went down next and like before you and tubbo waved him off. “hope you don’t die bossman!”

it was now time for you or tubbo to go

“are you going tubbo? you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

you messed with his hair as he nervously laughed, questioning if he should go down. “i’ll go down first. if you don’t wanna go down, that’s completely okay, you can go down the stairs.”

you got into the capsule, tubbo watched nervously as the lifeguards began counting down. he waved as you were sent off laughing and screaming as loud as possible. once you were with the others, you stood waiting for tubbo to come downstairs.

you and tommy stood questioning a lifeguard about if he knew your friend george before you all made your way to the next slide, this time the four of you were carrying inflatable rings with you. you went first again, screaming due to the fact you started spinning. within a couple of minutes the others stood impatiently, waiting for you to pass them on your way near the end as they were told that they’d be able to see you go by. “oh look there they go!”

tommy went down next and encouraged you to go with him to the spinny thing he saw earlier rather than wait for the others. you agreed and made your way to the slide with a lifeguard asking him what he thought about the pair of you.

“he thinks we’re awesome y/n!”

“i agree tommy.”

the pair of you stood looking for tubbo and jack. tommy found them first and lightly tapped your arm pointing to the childrens pool, causing the pair of you to laugh.

tommy went first and you stood laughing as you heard him scream.

"just wanted to see if it was safe, you know?”

it was then your turn to go down the slide. you honestly loved it and it very quickly became your favourite slide there. as soon as you got out the water, tommy was waiting for you to go to the others. you both made your way to where you saw them last, the children’s pool.

“i am the leader of the children’s kingdom!”

you tilted your head to the side as tommy told him what he said was dodgy.

tubbo informed you all that the wave pool was on so the four of you ran to the wave pool. you and tubbo stayed together floating as the waves were rather light, and tommy bragged about you both going on the hard slide whilst they stayed in the children's pool. once tommy finally got his goggles off, he was met by you and tubbo floating. the water constantly splashing over your face and jack messing around under the water.

“y/n is drowning!”

“no, we're riding the waves.”

you looked up to notice tommy and jack constantly jumping up then going under the water shouting.

the four of you walked with the lifeguards to the next slide. tommy attempted to make conversation with one of them, however it didn’t go to plan, resulting in everyone else laughing. you stood with tubbo listening to jack joke about tommy having to sit on his lap, it was only till tubbo pointed out there was three slides.

“ill go down after you tubbo!”

“nonsense y/n you can go down with me, they can do that, right? they just have to sit in front of me and i keep them safe?”

the lifeguards nodded, so tubbo helped you get ready before the others were also ready to go down the slides. they counted down and the four of you raced down, you and tubbo made it down first. you cheered before pulling tubbo into a hug. jack came down next followed by tommy, claiming that he won the race. after arguing who won, the four of you went down again for a re-match. you and tubbo won yet again and tommy finally called it quits. you overheard tommy telling jack his face throbs because he’s ageing followed by jack getting his age incorrect

“jack i hate to tell you this, but you’re wrong hes 17 now.”

tubbo wanted to go down the spinny slide and dragged you with him, whilst the others went swimming in the other pools. you went first and tubbo followed shortly after, he noticed you waiting for him and reached his hand out to you so you could help him up, or so you thought. this was not the case, instead he decided to pull you back into the water whilst laughing. “TUBBO!”

after few minutes of tackling each other in the water, you decided you probably should find the others so they don’t think you both drowned.

“i’m not built for this kind of action, i’m made for much more relaxed things.”

“me either, wanna watch the office later with ranboo?”

“you read my mind!”

the pair of you went to go find the others. as the floor was now extremely slippery from all four of you walking around, you nearly fell several times. tubbo then made you hold his hand so you didn’t fall and hurt your ankle again, “i’m not 4 tubbo.”

“maybe not but you’re extremely clumsy...where the hell have they gone? WHY IS THERE A WATER JET THING?”

“i think they’re drowning tubbo!”

you were both told they turned up the intensity of the wave pool. you then ran to the wave pool whilst tubbo ran to tell the others. a few moments later they ran to the pool to see you floating with the waves, or at least you were trying to do that.

“think they're drowning again!”

jack swam over to you and dragged you over to the others. the four of you then swam joking about being pulled into the waves, and how you were drowning and needed a lifeguard. once the waves stopped, you stood with jack as tubbo and tommy prepared to race by running across the floats that lay on the water. within seconds they fell and you and jack bragged about how you could do better, so of course they made you both race against each other. somehow it was possible for the pair of you to do worse than tommy and tubbo as you both instantly fell.

you all made your way to the fast moving water. jack yelled to tubbo that it was rapid, this however did not stop him as within seconds he was dragged away by the water. tommy grabbed your arm and swam into the water taking you with him.

“hold me y/n!”

“you’re weighing me down bud go hold onto jack!”

tommy clung onto a bar, jack followed. you and tubbo however did not and would have continued to go around if jack didn’t grab tubbos hand, and you didn’t hold his. “HEY I'VE ALWAYS SEEN THIS IN FILMS!''

“NOT THE TIME Y/N!”

“we saved them we're heroes!”

the four of you went to the hot tub for a few minutes to relax, as the afternoon was pure chaos, and to ‘celebrate tommy and jack saving you and tubbo.' you sat laughing as tommy struggled to put his swim shirt back on and was asking jack to help him, despite jack repeatedly saying he wasn’t going to help him clothe.

not long before the final slide, you and tubbo ran off to get the double ring so you could go down the final slide together. jack found the pair of you spinning around whilst singing ‘you spin me right round baby right round like a record baby,’ you all then made your way to the final ride. tommy and tubbo bickered for a few minutes about who got to go down the slide with you, whilst you and jack just stood laughing. jack joined the conversation telling them to either pick or he was going down with you, tubbo wasn’t having this and pulled you into his chest “mine!”

“fine you can go down with y/n,” tommy rolled his eyes.

tommy and jack went down first, a few minutes later you and tubbo were sent down the slide. laughing the entire time as tubbo cheered about the fact he won. you were sat in the front, then tubbo announced he could reach your hair, and began playing with your hair. in other words you now had a tangle in your hair that was going to be a pain to get out. within seconds you made it to the colourful sections of the slide, “Y/N LOOK ITS ALMOST AS BRIGHT AS YOUR HAIR!”

“I'D HIT YOU, BUT I CANT REACH!”

the first half went well, but you ended up going backwards down the second drop.

“SHITTTT!”

once you got off the slide, tommy told tubbo he was going down the capsule slide since he was the only one who hadn’t gone down, and ended up going down the slide with you. you agreed to wait at the bottom of the slide so you could greet him when he came down, 5 minutes later you were met with a unhappy tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug.

“YOU DID IT BESTIE!”

“that was awful!”

once you made it back, jack dropped you and tubbo off at yours. you thanked them for taking you both, and tommy told you to keep checking your discord as he was planning something. you agreed and said your goodbyes. you and tubbo went up to your room, you set up netflix whilst tubbo rang ranboo, nights like this were your favourite. you were huddled up under the blanket with your best friend, whilst on call with one of your other best friends, watching your favourite show. tubbo noticed the tangle he left in your hair and began untangling it, he went on to start playing with your hair whilst the office played in the background. hours later ranboo ended the call to stream, leaving you and tubbo to fall asleep in each other’s embrace.

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @c1loudee

[koutarouthighs]

『 soft cotton 』

S U M M A R Y ― sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of desire, and other times out of convenience, you end up wearing their clothes.

post type ➺ headcanons fandom  ➺ haikyuu!! characters  ➺ tsukishima ⧾ iwaizumi ⧾ terushima  genre ➺ fluff rating ➺ t+  tags ➺ established relationship; clothes share/swap; nudity if you squint (bare thighs); party environment described but not in explicit detail; word count ➺ 2.8k request ➺ [YES/NO]      ↳ request status: OPEN

⤭ tsukishima is confused the first time he finds you in one of his shirts. before his brow wrinkles in that telltale way of frustration, you hold your hands up in surrender and explain that while you were helping his mother in the kitchen, you spilled soy sauce on your white top and she offered to clean it for you while dinner was in the oven. ⤭ after that, you don’t end up giving him that shirt back. it’s an old one, that doesn’t have much sentimental value, but there’s something jarring about tsukki seeing you in his clothes; an out of body experience, almost. he doesn’t understand why anyone else would want to wear anyone else’s things - isn’t that why you buy your own clothes? ⤭ and he has to ask the other guys about it. why does she wear my shirt to bed? why doesn’t she just give it back? and boy, do they have a field day with him. he can be so dense sometimes. doesn’t he see? you wearing that shirt is like you carrying a piece of him with you, even when you’re far away.  ⤭ his clothes engulf you, absolutely dwarfing your frame due to the height difference between you. tsukki has always thought of you as tiny, not fragile, but now, seeing you swimming in the fabric that makes up his ratty old tee, he thinks he has begun to understand why you like to wear this shirt over any of your more expensive, more fashionable ones. ⤭ he might be an asshole about it, but tsukki finds ways to gift you more of his clothes indirectly. he accidentally spills soda on your shirt one night when you’re staying in, watching a movie and eating pizza. another day he grabs at the hem of your shirt when you’re walking away and tears a hole in it. somehow, you still haven’t caught on, but he doesn’t ask you for the shirts back anymore. in fact, when you start to return them, he gets almost as irritated as he did when you had to ask for the first one out of pure necessity.

more below the cut ↴

“i’m sorry, kei,” you brush the fabric free of wrinkles as it settles at your mid thigh, covering the shorts that are currently adorning your lower half. you slowly look up at him, a warmth on your cheeks that signals your shyness, “i’ll bring back this one with the others next time i see you, okay?”

a scoff leaves his lips and he’s tugging at your wrist, pulling you forward on the couch until you’re tumbling down to meet him. your knees settle on either side of his waist and he watches as the fabric of the shirt pools around your thighs, “don’t worry about it. your washer makes them smell like old lady anyway. i don’t want them back.”

the way you tilt your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow and dropping your lower lip in confusion never ceases to amuse him. tsukishima reaches up and brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, inhibiting your speech even as you ask, “i-i can wash them over here, if you want, kei.”

he’s shaking his head again, snagging at you until you’re flush with his chest, your face tucked against his neck. it’s not necessarily odd behavior for him to want you so close, however it is strange that he’s not asking for his clothes back. he used to put up so much harder of a fight.

“nah, they were shitty shirts anyway,” he sloughs off the string of words like they were meaningless, however you know the weight they hold. you also know better than to tease him too far, rather to take the prize you’ve silently won through heckling and hard work. the shirt on your shoulders feels warmer, somehow, with the knowledge that you have his blessing to keep it as if it were a gift from him in the first place.

your hands run up the length of his shoulders until you are hooked around him entirely, clinging to his lanky body like a koala. he smells so good, especially after a shower and a shave, which you suspect he’s done earlier today based on the scent of his aftershave still lingering on his neck. you nuzzle your nose further against his jugular, feeling the way his heartbeat pounds the blood in his veins. a low hum escapes your lips without your permission, but tsukishima must not mind your slip of the tongue, but instead is encouraged by it, sneaking his chilly fingertips underneath the hem of the familiar item of clothing until he finds your ribs.

he’s practically lulled you to sleep with the ministrations of his fingerprints mapping out each of your ribs, in tandem with the warmth he provides and the skin-on-skin contact you’ve beseeched with your own hands. your eyelids cannot stay pried open any longer, and so you allow them to shut. somewhere between now and then, tsukki drags a blanket over your shoulders, angling his body to be in a more comfortable position without jostling you too much to the point you’re far too awake to fall back asleep.

just before your mind is consumed by that dark realm of slumber, you hear a low murmur in your ear, “they looked better on you anyway.”

⤭ iwaizumi would not admit it in the beginning of your relationship, but there was something about seeing you in his clothes, namely a t-shirt with his old high school jersey number on it, that just made him feel a certain way that he could not explain. ⤭ it starts with you forgetting to wear a jacket on a date one night, but you don’t ask. iwaizumi sees you shivering and wordlessly removes the bomber jacket from around his shoulders and places it on your own, waiting until you’ve slipped your hands into the sleeves before he grabs for your hand again, interlocking your fingers at the knuckles.  ⤭ after that, you start to become more comfortable asking him for his hoodies and even though he gives you a bit of a frustrated comment after you accidentally take one home, when you stop asking for his jackets, he gets confused and concerned.  ⤭ with iwaizumi’s job, he gets a lot of free merchandise from the team(s) he works with. and by proxy, you get a lot of t-shirts and hoodies and other items passed down to you because he would accumulate too many things otherwise.  ⤭ you refuse to wear anything the first time, though. because without iwa wearing it around the house at least once, it won’t smell like him. he thought it was weird at first, but eventually you started noticing more clothes piling in on your side of the dresser that you’d seen him wearing a few times. and then, when he sees you step out of the bathroom after your shower with that team japan long sleeve shirt on, if you catch him quickly enough, you’ll notice a small, fleeting smile on his lips.

﹢

“hajime?” your call comes from the kitchen, and iwaizumi can hardly hear you from his place in the bathroom, showering after a long saturday of practice games. he rubs the towel against the top of his head, drying his hair before responding, “yeah, just a minute, babe!”

when he steps into the kitchen, you take him by surprise. you always do, even now, years after your first date. settled on your shoulders is an old seijoh promotional t-shirt he remembers having to wear to a fundraiser. but the seafoam green fabric settles against the tops of your thighs, exposing the remainder of your legs to the chilly breeze coming through the apartment windows. you always crack the windows when you’re cooking or baking; something iwaizumi noticed when you first moved in.

“iwa-chan?”

iwaizumi has to blink once, so harshly that he sees stars on the backs of his lids, before he can focus on you. he tilts his head and licks his lips, “yeah, sorry. what did you say?”

that laugh that rings in his dreams floats across the space between the two of you, and he fights a smile so he doesn’t look like a dope while you’re trying to ask him a question. he steps forward on the guise of hearing you more clearly, and then reaches out to push your hair behind your ear, his fingers itching to brush against the stitches of the fabric holding the shirt together on your pretty frame.

“i asked if you wanted the spicy steak tonight, or if you wanted me to reign in the heat,” your voice comes easy, simple and soft, and iwaizumi catches himself turning gentle at the sound of you. your palms abandon the cookware for a moment to extend towards his body, slipping beneath his top to rests on his hips. your thumbs brush over the warm skin, still slightly reddened from his time in the shower.

he’s so lost in the primal, territorial sensation he gets that starts as a prickling in the base of his neck, seeping down his spine and curling around every bone in his body. he wants to kiss you, to show you how he feels rather than telling you, and so he does. 

iwaizumi has never been one to deny how he feels.

your breath is stolen from your lungs when he lurches forward to capture your mouth with his own. his palms are rough as they search your torso for somewhere to land, settling on your shoulders so he can keep your upper body pinned to him. you release a small squeaking sound from the back of your throat, but he’s already swallowed it before you can feel self-conscious. 

“haji,” you gasp when you feel his fingertips dig into the muscle of your shoulders, and a laugh follows suit when his lips withdraw from yours and you can see the intensity in his gaze, “wh-what’s gotten into you?”

he’s not really sure, if he were to be honest with you. maybe it’s the nostalgia of the color fabric of the tee that you’re wearing. maybe it’s the way he wishes that he’d continued to play volleyball in a more direct way. maybe it’s the way the shirt falls just far enough to keep you from exposing anything too tantalizing.

or maybe...

“it’s just you,” he answers, pulling you by the thighs so he can pick you up and deposit you on the counter top. your legs sashay, ankles brushing his legs, and you can’t help yourself from twirling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. iwaizumi takes a deep breath before repeating himself, as if saying the phrase again might solidify the statement, but this time he adds: “it’s just you, in my shirt. you’re absolutely beautiful.”

your whole body burns at the compliment, and you bashfully blink downward, but iwaizumi is quick to lean in for another kiss. before too long, he’s got you drowning in his affections, his palms beneath your shirt to map out your skin, and the dinner you were previously preparing has been completely forgotten.

“iwa,” you murmur between the clacking sounds your teeth are making as they collide, “d-dinner, what...”

you feel his chest reverberate with a growl and then his mouth is on your neck and his fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt, “forget dinner.” his voice is rough and his touch is gentle, “we’ll just order out tonight.”

⤭ terushima is the one to ask you if you want to wear his clothes from the very beginning. he loves seeing you wearing his flannels and tees and hoodies. he always tries to find one that pairs well with your outfit so that way he can reason you into wearing his clothes whenever you go out.  ⤭ if he comes home to see you curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies, just absolutely engulfed in the warm fabric, it makes his whole body tingle. he goes and changes after work and will definitely slip underneath the blanket you’re hidden under to wrap his arms and legs around you. ⤭ when he asks you for clothing advice, at first you wonder if it’s because he’s trying to change up his look. but, after a few strangely specific questions, you finally realize that he’s trying to tailor his wardrobe to be something that you could always find easy to wear. ⤭ the desire to see you in his clothes is partially from being territorial, but mostly because he just thinks you look hot as hell when you’re wearing his clothes. you always manage to make his clothes look ten thousand times better, mainly because it’s you wearing them. it never fails, he will always make a comment about how good you look wearing just his big tee to bed, even if your hair is all mussed and your face is still shiny from your skincare. ⤭ sometimes you’ll catch him stealing your clothes, too. you wear big tee shirts that are comfortable, and sharing is caring! he loves to pick on you when he wears your clothes, pointing out the designs printed on the shirts and how adorable you are for wanting to wear such cute little things. 

﹢

“god, pretty girl,” his voice is rough as it runs ragged against your ears, his hands on your waist from behind, “you know how it makes me feel to see you in my clothes.”

and of course you do. yuuji is no quiet thing when it comes to how you make him feel. so, you lean into him, if only to egg him on until he’s begging you to head out of this little house party. his fingers slip into the back pockets of your jeans and you find yourself stumbling into his chest, palms fumbling over his torso to try and clutch at his shirt to steady yourself.

“teru,” you chide, pinching his cheek before leaning up to kiss him. you pull away before he’s gotten warmed up, leaving him following you by craning his neck. a chuckle escapes your lips and you press your index finger against his pursed mouth, “we came here to celebrate kiyoko and tanaka. can you keep your hands to yourself for just a few more hours?”

“baby,” he’s whining in your ear now, all needy with his lips pouted and his irises widening, “you can’t be serious! you know that’s my favorite shirt to see you in! i think you did this on purpose!”

his fingers tug on the material of the flannel that’s draped over your shoulders, pooling around your hips and framing your body just perfectly. you watch as his irises struggle to focus, pupils dilating as he looks down at you. his mouth twitches in expectant words, but he’s interrupted by someone else who steals your attention.

while you’re busy talking to one of your old friends from high school, terushima is given the opportunity to take in your appearance for the first time since he met you at the party earlier, and the sight of you engulfed in his flannel and a pair of his crazy socks that peek out from the cuffs of your jeans makes his chest constrict so much so that he grasps at his shirt with his fingertips, barely curling his digits around the fabric of his tee before he realizes what he’s doing.

a slow, gentle blinking of his lashes brings him back to earth, where he can stare at you some more, all unbeknownst to you. he doesn’t mind admitting to anyone who wants to know that he loves to watch you when you’re just existing. he likes to notice the little things about you, to catalog them in the back of his mind so he can remember them on days when you have to be apart for longer than he wants to be.

your attention is diverted when you feel his palms against your hips, his chest brushing your back as he leans forward to kiss your shoulder, “i’m gonna get a drink, yeah? you want anything?”

“water,” you nod, reaching back with one hand to run your fingers against his undercut, “thank you, teru.”

another kiss is deposited to your cheek before he unravels himself from you and heads towards the kitchen, hands shoved deeply into his pockets. and you tilt your head so you can take in a deep breath of the collar of the flannel that you’re wearing, and somehow it feels like you’re there with him despite the distance between you. 

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

Can you make a sick akaashi at school or something ? TYSM ✨

You’re in Charge: a BokuAka sick fic

Pairing: sick Akaashi, caretaker Bokuto

Word Count: 3,295

Warnings: panic attack, brief mentions of vomit, swearing

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Hello ‘tis me I am back and I’ve completely given up on writing shorter fics.

I could’ve cut this off and finished it in multiple places, but I didn’t bc my brain said “okay but what if you added this...” and I am nothing but a mere peasant subject to my brain’s demands.

Anyway, pls enjoy!

————————————————————

“Thank you for the game!”

The room spun when Akaashi straightened from his bow. He blinked away the black dots in his vision and moved to shake hands with the other team.

The club room called to him tauntingly, promising a cold shower and a change of clothes. He wanted nothing more than to cool off and get out of his sticky, sweaty practice clothes.

The Fukurodani boys’ volleyball team was visiting Shinzen Academy for a friendly practice match. Their games were always intense and Akaashi had to work harder to take in the entire court and his teammates’ conditions. Today was no different all in all, but Akaashi felt more drained than usual.

Even during the game, Akaashi’s body protested his movements if they expended too much energy. On top of that, his brain felt like it was melting. For some reason, his focus was all over the place and he had to set aside more of that energy in order to observe the game in its entirety and make the right sets more than in other games.

Fukurodani won, so he tried to convince himself that the excessive work to maintain control that he put in was worth it, but with how utterly exhausted and uncomfortable and achy he felt, he wasn’t sure he believed it.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto yelled when they entered the locker room. It bounced off the walls and pounded in Akaashi’s skull. He must be dehydrated. He sat heavily on the bench, wiping the sweat off his face and catching his breath. When he reached down to get his water from his bag, his chest constricted and he coughed quietly. Sitting back up, his chest loosed, but he realized suddenly that he was on a quickly descending slope to pure and unadulterated exhaustion. What was going on?

“Great game everyone! Your awesome captain-slash-superstar-ace is very impressed with everyone!” Bokuto exclaimed proudly, his hands on his hips. He walked over to Akaashi and plopped down beside him, throwing an arm around his tense shoulders.

Akaashi loved Bokuto and didn’t want to dampen his mood at all, but his body told him to push the ace away. He resisted the urge, but the touch sent needles across his skin and made his chest tighten more.

“‘Specially ‘Kaashi here!” he said, his volume still set at level 10, “you were on FIRE today!”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi muttered. The words felt heavy in his mouth, his jaw moving like it was wading through a pool of honey.

“Bokuto, you barely did anything! You went emo mode in the first half of the first set,” Konoha jeered. Sarukui sniggered beside him and Bokuto pouted. He removed his arm so quickly from Akaashi’s shoulders that the setter’s poor brain couldn’t keep up and black dots danced in his vision again.

“Hey! But I had that amazing cut shot!” Bokuto argued back loudly and the dull pounding in Akaashi’s head increased to resemble something like a jackhammer. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. It was his body. His mind. He was in charge of it. So why did he feel like he wasn’t even physically present?

“Yeah, thanks to Akaashi. You wouldn’t be anywhere without that guy. Tell him, Akaashi,” Sarukui teased back.

Akaashi wanted to respond. Really, he did. But it was suddenly very very hot, and his chest was very very tight. It was all he could do to breathe.

“Akaashi?” someone asked. His mouth wouldn’t open to reply. Open dammit. Respond.

“Hey, man. You okay?” No. No, he wasn’t, but he didn’t know why. Breathe.

“Akaashi? What’s going on?” He didn’t know. He didn’t know. What was going on? Why was this happening? Despite his eyes being closed, he still felt like he was sitting in a tilt-a-whirl. A haze clouded his head and he didn’t know what was happening anymore.

Every part of his being was exhausted and achy. More than what was normal for after a game, even one of their harder ones. Something was not right at all, but he couldn’t get his brain to sort through all the things he was feeling to figure out why. All sense of control he had over himself was gone and it sent him spiraling further into whatever pit he was falling in to. He needed help. Someone please turn off the heat. Make it stop spinning. Was he floating? Where did the bench go?

“B-Bokuto…” he choked and a hand was on his back. He winced away from the touch and then it was gone again.

“Hey, yeah. Deep breaths, buddy. I’m here Akaashi. What’s up? What do you need?” Was that Bokuto? It sounded like him, but it was almost too gentle, too soft. Akaashi tilted forward against his will, but his forehead was caught by something hard.

“Bo-boku-,” he got cut off by harsh cough, “h-help.” He couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah. It’s me, Akaashi. I got ya. You’re okay, alright? Everything is fine,” Soft-Bokuto said and an arm was wrapped around his back. He whined and tried to pull away.

“Okay, got it. No touching. That’s fine. You’re in charge. You know best as usual, Akaashi! What do you think we should do?”

That’s right. Akaashi always knew what to do, so he should be able to figure this out, right? But if that was true, why was everything moving faster than he could possibly keep up? What should he do?

“Stick-sticky,” he wheezed. Everything around him felt sticky. That needed to go away.

“Okay. Yeah. You got it. Someone get me a wet rag and go find a coach or a manager,” Bokuto commanded.

“What’s happening, Bo?”

“Akaashi, hey. I’m going to wipe off your face, okay? It’ll make you feel better.” No, he did not want to do that. He tried to shake his head.

“N-no—“ he gasped.

“Work with me here, buddy. Okay? I promise I’ll be quick,” Bokuto said. Akaashi really didn’t want that. No one should touch him right now. But it was so hot. And he was so clammy.

“K-Kay,” he said.

“Okay, great! Thank you, Akaashi. You’re doing good, okay? I’m gonna help you. I’m going to touch your face, alright?” Bokuto said, calmly, gently, grounding Akaashi somewhat.

Then Bokuto’s calloused hand was gripping Akaashi’s chin, moving him backwards.

“This might be kinda cold and icky feeling,” Bokuto warned quickly before something that was exactly cold and exactly icky was moving across his face. He whined and tugged his face away, but Bokuto’s grip on his chin pulled him back.

“Hey, just give it a second and it’ll feel better, okay?”

True to his word, Akaashi felt minutely cooler. He sighed and leaned into Bokuto’s hand.

“Yeah, there ya go. Look at that, you can breathe again, huh?” Akaashi nodded. The weight on his chest was gone. There was still too much happening around him, but things were starting to de-fog just a little.

“Nice, okay. What’s next?”

What next? What was bothering him?

Akaashi tugged at his shirt, whimpering. It was stuck to him and keeping him stuck in the pool of honey.

“Oh, yeah. Duh! That shirt’s all sticky too! How gross. You’re so smart, ‘Kaashi. I’m going to need some help, though. Can I ask someone?”

Akaashi whimpered. No. He didn’t want that. Why couldn’t it just be Bokuto? He didn’t want anyone else touching him.

“What about Konoha? He’s a good senpai, right? He’s nice and helpful!” Bokuto asked. That’s right. Konoha is nice. Akaashi nodded.

“Konoha, can you help me out here?”

A hand on his arm, he winced, and then he was moving, tilting the opposite direction.

“Bo, he’s burning up,” Konoha said. Something about his tone set the smallest inklings of panic off in Akaashi’s head.

“Yeah, I said he was on fire just a little bit ago, remember?” Bokuto chuckled. The panic subsided.

“No, I mean I think he’s go—“ Konoha started.

“Okay, Akaashi, shirt’s coming off!”

A rush of cold air hit him and he shivered. It was refreshing and more of the haze cleared away. He felt his feet on the ground, his butt on the bench, Bokuto’s warmth around him. Good things.

Bad things too though. The pounding in his skull. The sweat clinging to his skin. The uncomfortable warmth encasing him. Something heavy in his gut. The quiet in the locker room. The exhaustion.

“Do you want to go wash the sticky off?”

As enticing as that sounded, he didn’t want to move. He was too afraid that his legs wouldn’t listen to him. He shook his head.

“How bout a clean sweatshirt?” Bokuto asked. Clean sweatshirt? Akaashi nodded. Then he was covered again.

“Can I offer another idea, Kaashi?” Bokuto asked.

“Sleep,” Akaashi responded, his jaw still weighed down. That’s what he wanted to do now.

“Not yet, okay? In a bit, I promise. After you hear my next idea, okay?,” Bokuto reassured.

“Y-yeah,” Akaashi breathed.

“How about some water?”

Water? That would probably be a good idea in theory. Something told Akaashi that he didn’t want that, though.

“Just a sip, okay? If you hate it, I won’t make you drink anymore, alright?”

“Bokuto, what’s goin o—“ a female voice, maybe Yukie started but was cut off.

“Akaashi?”

“Then I...c’n sleep?,” he muttered. He leaned forward again, falling, but he was caught and pulled up right again. He was so tired. Would Bokuto let him sleep after this?

“Sure, Akaashi,” Bokuto agreed, rubbing his back. That felt nice.

“Kay,” he sighed.

“Great! You’re doing so good, Akaashi. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here! You always know exactly what to do,” Bokuto said, cheerily. It set some of Akaashi’s nerves at ease.

Something was placed on his lips and then his mouth was flooded with something cold and his eyes snapped open.

Everything slammed back into place all at once and he spit the water out aggressively. His poor brain observed the room around him and was immediately overwhelmed.

The colors swirling in the locker room, the burning on his skin, all the people around him, everyone’s eyes on him, the aching in his limbs. It was all too much. He jolted away from Bokuto, nearly falling off the bench.

Before he knew what was happening, something warm moved up his chest and he heaved painfully, vomiting on the floor.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled, moving towards him.

“Oh my god, Akaashi!”

“What the hell?”

“Oh no!”

Voices flooded his already overloaded senses and he scrambled weakly away, his back hitting the wall. He slapped his hands over his ears and pulled his knees into his chest.

“Everyone get out!” Bokuto commanded loudly, his presence filling the room and everyone froze.

“Now!” He yelled and everyone nodded and left.

That was good. Akaashi needed to be alone now. He needed to get a hold of himself. He needed to regain control.

Bokuto knelt in front of him.

“Go ‘way,” Akaashi whimpered, trying to scoot further away.

“No can do, Akaashi,” he shrugged, sitting down criss-cross in front of him. He held a hand out to him, but didn’t reach farther than his own knees.

“You’re alright, Akaashi. Take your time. You’re okay,” Bokuto said. It was quiet but the look on his face read ‘I’m here, you’re okay.’ It was so reassuring it made Akaashi want to cry. His lip trembled and he closed his eyes again.

“Don’t...please don’t leave,” he whispered.

“I won’t. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re in charge, alright? I’ll wait ‘til you tell me what to do again. You’re okay,” Bokuto said, firm and unwavering.

Akaashi took a deep, rattling breath in and collected his thoughts. He took an inventory of his limbs and scanned his body. After a few minutes, or seconds, or hours, the tension finally melted away and the fog in his head cleared completely.

Then the exhaustion was back. It consumed him. He slumped against the wall and removed his hands from his ears. His eyes lazily moved towards Bokuto and he saw that the ace still held his hand out. Akaashi reached for it and Bokuto smiled softly and moved towards him.

Bokuto sat against the wall beside Akaashi and wrapped an arm around him. The setter sank into Bokuto’s side, turning his face into his shoulder. Bokuto was warm, comfortable, and safe. He felt like home.

“You’ve got a fever, Akaashi,” he informed after a few minutes.

“I figured,” Akaashi muttered.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why’d you play?”

“I just found out,” Akaashi said bluntly, pulling his head back and resting his chin on Bokuto’s shoulder.

Bokuto was staring down at him, eyes blinking owlishly. If Akaashi was at all with it, he would have laughed. As it stood though, he was slowly losing his battle with consciousness.

A frown replaced the bewildered look on Bokuto’s face and he sighed, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“What the hell, Akaashi? You have to take better care of yourself,” he grumbled.

“Sorry,” Akaashi replied lamely.

“It’s okay. Not like anyone on the team noticed either.”

That was true. However, Akaashi didn’t hold that against anyone. It wasn’t their job to make sure Akaashi wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t have the energy for that conversation though.

“Can I sleep now, Bokuto-san?” He moved his head down to Bokuto’s pillowy-pecs and sighed. Regardless of Bokuto’s answer, Akaashi’s body demanded sleep, so he let go and was out in seconds.

Sometime later, Akaashi woke up to the gentle rocking of the bus and the hushed tones of his teammates. His head was pillowed on something soft and sturdy. He blinked a few times before he groaned, registering how utterly terrible he felt.

“Oh, hey,” Konoha said and Akaashi’s eyes found the wing spiker a seat in front of him, smiling down at him.

“Think you can sit up a sec? Bo said you need to take these meds and drink something,” he said, reaching down into his bag.

Akaashi begrudgingly sat up and exhaled slowly. Konoha handed him some pills and a sports drink and Akaashi took them gratefully. Konoha scanned him. Akaashi squirmed under his gaze.

“Those should help with the fever and headache. We couldn’t find anything for nausea though, so if you need to puke again, lemme know. I have a bag.”

Akaashi nodded. He definitely felt better, more in control, than before but he knew that he wasn’t out of the danger zone yet.

Squinting, he surveyed the bus. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the team. Several of his teammates were sleeping, while others were chatting quietly or listening to music. It was a lot calmer than usual and he wondered why. He also didn’t see Bokuto anywhere.

“Konoha-san, where is Bokuto-san?” Akaashi frowned. He hoped he didn’t get Bokuto sick. Konoha raised an eyebrow at him.

“Man, you must be really out of it,” he said, shaking his head. He gestured to the space next to Akaashi and the setter turned his head, shocked to find a snoozing Bokuto directly beside him. The implications of the situation brought a rush of heat to Akaashi’s cheeks. He was positive it wasn’t from the fever.

“So so I was asleep—“

“On Bokuto’s lap, yeah,” Konoha smirked. Akaashi’s frazzled brain couldn’t comprehend how he felt about that, but with the pounding in his chest, he could assume he wasn’t upset about it.

“You scared us, ya know?” Konoha mumbled suddenly, picking at his fingers. Akaashi let out a slow breath and opened his mouth to apologize, but Konoha shook his head.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. None of us knew you were sick and according to Bo, you didn’t either,” he chuckled before getting serious again.

“You got all quiet and spacey and you were hyperventilating. It was like you didn’t really see us and didn’t quite know where you were. Then you just freaked out and Bokuto made us leave.”

Akaashi frowned, trying to remember. There was definitely some recollection of a lack of control and intense heat, but he couldn’t recall explicit details.

“I’m sorry, Konoha-san. I don’t really remember,” he said. Konoha nodded.

“I figured as much. It’s a good thing Bokuto was there. Honestly we probably would have made things worse if he hadn’t stayed calm and taken charge.”

“Yeah. I have some memory of Bokuto being there, but I’m afraid I don’t know what to thank him for exactly.”

All he remembered was feelings of warmth and safety. Konoha cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He didn’t look at Akaashi and the setter felt guilty for burdening his upperclassmen.

“He wouldn’t let any of us near you. Gave us a terrifying look if we tried. I don’t know when he found out about your fever, but when I tried to say something he gave me such a death glare that I shut up pretty quick.” Konoha sighed, glancing at Bokuto.

“Why would he…” Akaashi questioned, staring at Bokuto’s sleeping face. It was serene and he appeared happy and relaxed, even after today’s events. The pounding in Akaashi’s chest made itself known again.

“Uh, well, after we got you on the bus, we asked him what happened,” Konoha explained. “He told us you were sick and apologized for being so stern with us. He said that if we tried to tell you what to do or gave you any distressing news that you’d just freak out more.”

Akaashi’s head swung around so fast, it made him dizzy.

“He said that?”

The fact that Bokuto knew what was running through Akaashi’s head was astonishing. Sure, his need for control was pretty obvious, but he never elaborated on it or talked about it. He never thought that anyone realized the scope of how they affected him.

Konoha laughed again, “yeah. Honestly we thought he was being his normal helpless self. He kept asking you what to do and Saru and I almost yelled at him for being insensitive. But when he was the only one you asked for, we let him do whatever.”

“Wow, uh, I’ll have to thank him,” Akaashi stared at Bokuto again, increasing admiration for the ace blossoming in his chest.

“Yeah, for sure. But hey, for now, just get some rest. We called your mom to meet us at the school. We should be back in like twenty minutes or so.” Konoha turned back around in his seat and settled himself in.

“Turning around on a bus is really dangerous,” Konoha said casually, “I wonder why Bokuto wanted to sit in the back where no one can talk to him.” With that, he put his headphones in and Akaashi knew the conversation was over.

Well...if no one was looking, would it be the end of the world if Akaashi indulged himself in taking a brief nap? On the only pillow he could find at the moment? He was sick after all.

With a deep breath, Akaashi laid back down on Bokuto’s lap. He moved the ace’s hand out from under his back and put it over his stomach. When he made to let go, Bokuto’s hand grabbed his wrist loosely. Akaashi took a moment to be shocked, but then pulled his wrist out of Bokuto’s grasp, only to replace it with his own.

Safe. Warm. Home.

(Later, Akaashi would find out that Konoha is a snake and a liar and turned around on the bus again despite its apparent “danger.” However, if it was only because of the picture the wing spiker sent him of Akaashi sleeping on his new favorite pillow, he decided not to chew him out for it.)

[heliosthegriffin]

Infernis Dominus

An aged Cardin Winchester walks down the halls into a well decorated throne room.

The years had been good to him, the graying in his hair natural and he supported a mighty mustache and mutton chops, and even in his more advanced years he still looked as formidable as he did in his prime.

Whether it was due to his aura control, a healthy life style, or duty he was driven by, was impossible to be told and did not matter as he was as well mentally as he was physically. He would continue to serve.

He took to one knee in a bow before a marble and golden throne that was draped in blue tapestry with a pair of golden arcs in the center.

At the center of the throne was a enigma of a man, one who was both boyish, but clearly a man, young but showed age with the strands silver hairs in his golden hair and the laugh lines on his face, blues eyes that carried playful energy and harsh weight, a body that was built to destroy that was covered by heavy armor and held a dreadful sword at his side, but he carried himself with an aura of peace and warmth. Divine, but clearly a Man.

This is Jaune Arc, Lord of the Arc Covenant, Paragon of War, and Master of Conquest.

“My friend, why do you bow? It is only the two of us here.”

Cardin rose up on his feet, and waved off his comrade. “Paah, even if it is only us two I pay my respects to my superiors, circumstance must not be forgotten, otherwise discipline dies and chaos reigns.” Jaune raised a brow. “Hmm, I suppose, but I think its the stick up your ass.”

“If it’d keep you from slouching so much, I’d shove a log up yours.”

Jaune feigned pain. “Oh, such immodesty, is that anyway to speak to your king!”

“If I didn’t know you spent you’re free time in your harem chamber, or playing with those miscreants street rats you’ve taken in, I’d almost pretend to believe you.”

Jaune smirked at him. “To be fair, my wives have taken a quite the likening to them, and my brood has practically adopted them.”

Cardin shook his head in good-nature. “Oh, how are we suppose to remove you from your chambers now.”

“I suppose I shall have to move my throne in there.”

Both men then shared a laugh.

Jaune wiped a tear from his eyes. “How goes Carmine?”

“Oh, you know we’re in a stable, happy, monogamous marriage. No drama, no sleeping order, and no random bastards either.”

“Pfff, I bet you two have great sex too.”

A doopey smile ran across Cardin’s face. “Very.” 

Jaune barked out a laugh.

“Anyway, she’s happy, we’ve got a grandchild on the way soon, so she’s practically move into our’s son’s house, and using her semblance to knit everything, and has more or less got our daughter in law on house arrest.”

Jaune rolled his eyes. “That sounds like Carmine.”

“So how goes you harem, every man’s dream or so they say.”

Jaune sunk into his throne. “Exhausting, I should have never gone above six, but like an idiot I married twelve!” A wide smile broke across his face, and he opened his hand revealing a white orb of aura, where a dozen faces could be spied within. “Its damn tiring keeping up with them, trying to keep track of the hierarchy, and if it’s not a damn orgy to keep them all satisfied, it’s who gets to sleep with who. Sometimes though I have to man up and lay down the law, because at the end of the day I run this show, whether I like it or not.”

He forms another orb of aura, and another till he had twelve floating orbs, each showing a face of one of his wives as he watched them through his aura.

“I soul-bounded each one to each other and myself, I wanted them to know how honest I was about how they had a place in my heart.” With a wave of his hands the orbs shaped together to form a heart with each woman forming a piece of it. He rested a hand under his chin as he look at them. “I have to stop myself from having doubts sometimes, as they can feel it and I don’t want to worry them.”

He pulled the heart towards himself and held it between his hands. He looked at the many loves of his life. “I wouldn’t trade anyone of them,” He crushed the heart between his hands, the last look Cardin got his friends wives was a look of contentment and peace as a wave of aura washed over them.

Jaune then look at Cardin.

“So what do you have for me today? Any news about the battle front?”

Cardin then sighed. “About that, we won.”

Jaune raise a brow. “Excuse me?”

“We have done it, all land on Remnant, all known land in system as been taken by you, Sir. That was actually the reason I come to visit you today.”

“I thought you wished to converse with a long-time friend.”

“That too, anyway we’ve repelled the Grimm, and surrounded the Pools of Darkness with kill nests, any Primordial Grimm have either gone into hiding and we can kill at our leisure, or have been exterminated, the last of the planets in our system have sworn under your leadership, and finally we repelled any attempts by the Brothers and they’re minions to renter the system, not that they’ve tried very hard since you chased them off.”

Jaune smirked and thumbed his sword. “Shame, I was hoping to kill a god.”

“So, I’ve come to ask what next?”

Jaune put his hands on his sword and thought for a moment, looking out at his stain glass windows.

Cardin watch his friend with slight worry.

Ever since they met at the academy over fifty years ago, Jaune’s desire to make the world a better place and to be a hero had guided him. It’s what won Cardin and so many others over, what made him put together a militia when they found evidence of the councils corruption, what put him as the King of Vale, what made him go to war with Atlas and Mistral over the treatment of Faunus, why he put the world under his banner, why he absorbed the relics and dominated their spirits, why he killed the undying witch and put to rest the old wizard, and why he took over the solar system and cast out the gods in a duel.

What would they do with all the power in not only the world, but the solar system.

“Well, I suppose we need to make sure we can hold our territory, make sure we keep the world healthy, make sure that the other planets get along properly, and keep our strength up. Never know when the brothers or some-other gods out there will want some new ‘Congregation’. But, otherwise? I cannot say yet, for I have a pestering idea that I have yet to outline.”

“As you will it then, I shall have it done.”

“As you will then. By the way, come by again soon.”

Cardin nodded. “With Pleasure.”

“No, no, no, I’m going with pleasure!” Then Jaune walked off his throne and into his chambers. “It helps clear my mind.”

Cardin rolled his eyes. “Sure it does.”

-------

Fifteen Years later---

------

Cardin had grown slightly older, but other wise looked the same.

He was looking over piles of documents with his friends and colleagues, Lie Ren and Sun Wukong. Both of them having aged quite well, with Sun looking in his mid forties and Ren hardly touching thirty.

The doors were flung open, a wind knocking all their papers over, as Jaune strode in a broad smile on his face, still hardly having aged at all.

“Friends and Allies, I have decied our next step!”

Ren carefully rose from his seat. “What might that be?”

Jaune ripped Crocea Rexus from his sheath. “I’m glad you asked, we’re conquering hell! For too long have gods unworthy of our faith had control of our souls, no longer! We will liberate them and allow them salvation!”

Sun started clapping. “Yeah lets do this!”

Cardin raised a greying eye brow. “How might we do this though?”

“Oh ho hoh! I’ve been practicing for this question, for the last decade I have been experimenting with dimensional and spiritual barriers, and I have found I can cut them, like this!”

Jaune then took a slash at empty air causing it to twist and contort as space itself was destroyed leaving a hellish red light to fill the room, a large red hand then reach through and pulled itself out.

A gigantic demon emerged.

It then fell in half as Jaune resheathed his sword.

“Pesky creatures they are, so you boys in? I already got my militia going with me.”

Ren shook his head. “Jaune you don’t have to form a militia every time you want to overthrow something. You’re literally the king of the solar system, you have an army at your beck and call.”

“I do If I want to keep favor with the people, and honestly it’s more fun that way.”

Ren sighed in annoyance.

Cardin then got up and called his wife. “Yeah, It’s Jaune. Yep it’s a crusade, Hell, this time. I’ll be back alive or you’ll kick my ass, love you too.”

“I take you’re all accepting?”

“You know it!”

“Someone has to keep you in line.”

“What he said.”

Jaune then raise his sword and rushed into Hell, his Militia outside following as he screamed. “Glorious!”

AN: I am so annoyed, this is second time I had to write this because the first time I wrote it, It got deleted because I had accidentally hit the inspect button and it all went down the pipe.

[kaiwritess]

Maybe I’m little 👀😣 obvious but can I request a hc with daichi, kuroo, and asahi (and oikawa ONLY if you have the time! ONLY if you have the time) kissing you in the pool and who would pull you in for an underwater kiss 🥺

hehe this was kinda fun to write also my writing style is so inconsistent holp

HCs of Underwater Kisses With Daichi, Kuroo, Asahi, and Oikawa

Daichi Sawamura

It’s a hot summer day and your boyfriend convinces you that it’s the perfect weather for swimming. (he’s totally right.)

When you go to the pool, he dips his foot in the water to check the temperature and cringes at how cold it is.

Daichi slowly gets in, trying to accommodate to the freezing cold water.

You being the amazing s/o you are, ‘accidentally’ push him in. which is payback from that one time he wouldn’t let you have ice cream before dinner smh

He’s literally freezing his ass off and lets out a mix of a guttural scream and a groan.

When he pops his head up from the water, a look of revenge is evident in his eyes.

But before you can escape, Daichi pulls you down into the water too.

You and him are underwater now, and your whole body is very chilly

Daichi got used to the conditions and so to help you out, he wrapped his body around you and gave you a kiss

That seemed to do the trick because after, your body felt like it was on fire

Kuroo Tetsurou

You had suggested a game of who can hold their breaths underwater the longest

Kuroo can be a very competitive person when he wants to be, but you’re confident in your skills. If you had a superpower, it would be holding your breath for an extremely long time.

However, he is prepared with a plan.

Everything is fine for the first few seconds underwater. You could stay like this for a good four minutes or so.

Much to your surprise, Kuroo seems to be at ease too. He’s just chillin’ and watching you intensely.

So the two of you stay underwater for some time. You admire how his hair floats freely—almost like it has a mind of its own.

Just when you think he’s starting to swim to the surface, he moves toward you.

He has a cheeky grin too. Before you can compute what’s going on, he gives you an underwater kiss.

This leaves you breathless, and you swim to the surface gasping for air. Kuroo follows because he’s almost out of oxygen as well.

“Guess I won.”

“You cheated!” you pout.

“It’s called strategy, kitten.”

Asahi Azumane

The whole scene looks like something straight out of a movie.

There are candles littered around the pool, and it’s just the two of you under a full moon.

To make the atmosphere even more romantic, Asahi added some rose petals. he’s a sucker for cheesy things

You and him talk about everything. Future plans, bucket lists, dreams and aspirations, favorite breakfast, etc.

Asahi points out how the stars are especially bright today. The constellations are visible and you can even see some shooting stars.

An idea pops into your head. You smile warmly at him and submerge yourself in the pool.

Confused, Asahi dunks his head to see what you’re doing. Much to his surprise, you pull him down underwater.

The two of you stare at each other admiring the person in front of them.

All of a sudden, he leans forward and gives you a kiss.

It’s almost as if a bubble formed around the two of you, isolating you and him from the outside world.

Best. Kiss. Ever.

Oikawa Tooru

It’s no secret that Oikawa is a romantic person. (well, i mean he tries to be at least)

And it’s also no secret that he can be quite,, touchy too.

Combine those things, and you’ll get the fact that he kissed you in almost every possible place.

Movie theater? Yep. The street? mhm. In the car? You bet. In a volleyball game? Of course!

You’ve kissed everywhere except for the pool.

He knew that too, but didn’t bring it up. It kinda remained like the elephant in the room.

That is, until the end of the day where you and him were chilling in the pool with some of his teammates.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Matsukawa, and all of a sudden Oikawa whispers into your ear, “You know what I’m thinking?”

Of course you know what he’s thinking. But, you decide to play along. “What are you thinking?”

“We kissed everywhere except in a pool. Probably should change that.”

Next thing you know, he gives you a kiss in FRONT of the TEAM. He then gives you a sly smirk and pulls you underwater.

The pool wasn’t the only place you kissed that day.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thanks for reading!

- Kai

[barnesandco]

Go for Gold

Bucky becomes seriously affected by an Olympic athlete during his time at the Summer Olympics in Tokyo, and makes a desperate attempt to get to know her better.

This is my entry for @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ ‘s #marveldiversitychallenge. My prompt was the song Swimming Pool Summer by Capital Cities.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Warnings: Blushy Bucky lol.

A/N: Whitney, thank you so much for providing this opportunity to write characters we are not so familiar with, allowing us to expand our horizons and crucially, working to make this space more inclusive for people of color. It was an amazing initiative to take and I’m so glad I participated (albeit a little late -- sorry)

This is also a wishful glimpse into the Olympics we never got this year.

Tokyo is a cornucopia of sensory overstimulation, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky is glad for it. It’s like the Stark Expo raised to the power of ten, the bright lights of the city and its signs mingling with the bright jerseys worn by fans. The streets are packed with sound and celebration, and his only guide grounding him is the heat he feels along his right side, where Sam walks beside him.

Pressed together, shoulder-to-shoulder, his brother in arms is today a brother in merriment and sports enthusiasm, as they make their way to the swim hall for the next event on their list. The women’s 50 meter freestyle. Bucky feels like he’s floating, cheeks aching while he listens to Sam talk about childhood dares that forced him to brave the cold waters of the cleanest part of the Hudson he and his cousins could find. All the while, the beat of a Xhosa chant from a crowd of South Africans syncs with his heartbeat and he inhales deeper as they pass a samosa cart.

Bucky doesn’t mention working at the docks and witnessing kids decades before Sam complete the same challenges; it’s too grandpa-ish an anecdote. Not that Sam would really notice, not right now, at least. Captain America has fallen silent, his focus on the swim hall, big, brown eyes bright in the cerulean light reflected from the water below.

He snaps out of it, out of that youthful glee at another item crossed off the bucket list, as they sit down. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Sam asks, once they’ve settled down, and they have time to breathe for themselves, and not to inhale all the amazement that surrounds them.

Bucky smiles. “Couldn’t be better,” and that’s all he has time for before the swimmers are walking out and the crowd is cheering behind him and he is fixated on one, particular Olympian. Your posture encaptivates Bucky, because you stands like you are ready to dive. 

You enter the water like Bucky does his apartment, with a sigh of relief at being home. It is transfixing to see someone return to their element, and some egotistical part of him wonders if he looks anywhere near as ethereal as this swimmer. Only your head and shoulders are visible now, brown skin shimmering in the reflection of the water, and you tuck your swim cap tighter on your head the same way Bucky does his gloves before battle. Your face gleams with determination set in steel.

And then there is only quiet, and the gentle lapping of ripples against the pool walls, and everyone holds their breath. The starter pistol fires, and you’re off. Bucky’s eyes follow you and only you, your grace unparalleled by your lithe movements, like a knife through butter, and moments stretch into hours that are over all too soon.

But then Sam is screaming next to him. There’s something about a world record and the audience is on its feet behind him but he sees only you. You hoist yourself out of the pool, beaming brighter than the sun. A towel is placed around your shoulders and you laugh exuberantly when your coach whispers something in your ear as she hugs you. The sound imprints itself into his mind with the intensity of a magnesium flare, and with it, Bucky is a complete and total goner.

-----

He does not stop thinking about you. Can’t help it, even when he and Sam have attended two more events and he has had dinner and Sam has left for bed. Something tugs him to the water. 

The sun has long set and the velvet blanket of night has drawn itself over the sky, tucked neatly into the corners of the horizon where he can see Tokyo spilling over the edge of his view. The city’s size is doubled by the calm reflection he can see from Hinode Pier, and he finds himself sitting on a jetty, above water pitch black save for a cluster of fireflies nearby. 

There are steps behind him, and he tenses, more so when he sees the reflection in the water. It’s you, your posture and height unmistakable.

“Hi, mind if I join you?” You ask, and he stands to pretend he didn’t notice you earlier. The smile dancing like waves on your face tells him you’re not fooled, and he thinks the heat rising to his face surely won’t help, either. 

“Of course.” 

You sit down, and he follows, and the line holding your shoulders so tightly eases as your legs swing over the water. The fireflies look like fireworks -- magnesium flares -- in your eyes. An ease washes over you as you graze the bottom of your sneakers over the surface of the water.

“Congratulations,” Bucky says after a while, and you close your eyes and laugh, rub your eyelids with the heel of your palms.

“Thank you,” you say, removing your hands from your face, using them to gather your braids back and at your neck again, laughing again. “Sorry,” you say, shaking your head, and he wonders why. “I just can’t believe it. A world record.”

Your laughter is contagious and addictive, and Bucky tries to elicit more of it, toeing the line of your acquaintanceship delicately. “I was talking about the medals you won today, but yeah, congratulations with that, too.” It works. You smile, this time directly at him, and he can’t breathe with the full strength of your beauty directed right at him.

Tilting your head, you ask, “You watched me race? Were you rooting for me?” You joke back, but Bucky nods seriously as he considers your question.

“I wasn’t going to root for anyone because I don’t know the first thing about swimming, so it was as impressive as flying to me,” he begins, and thinks about how he really should be used to flying considering who his best friend is, “but I saw you in the 50 meter today and, well, I’ve always cheered for the winning team. Wasn’t going to change that now,” he says.

Your eyes flit between both of his, and the warmth emanating from you is enough to combat the chill of the night near the water. “What about not knowing anything about swimming? Are you willing to change that?” You ask and Bucky looks at the water below, and his face, intrepid, staring back in the dim light.

“Why not?” He says with a shrug, and you grin a starlight smile back at him, and then stand to pull a swim cap out of your hoodie before taking it off, leaving you in a sports t-shirt and yoga pants. The water splashes onto him as you dive off the jetty, and Bucky watches you giggle as you break the surface and come up for air, gesturing for him to join you.

The water is probably cold, but you’re in it, and he removes his windbreaker too, joining you more hesitantly. The waves welcome him, lapping over his t-shirt and he’s glad he’s wearing the synthetic skin today, so that you can be just two strangers, without the weight of your reputations tugging at you.

You cup your hands around your mouth as you paddle backwards and call, “Let’s just warm up,” and Bucky follows in a clumsy breaststroke, as you take off.

His breath is releasing in pants and the jetty is a thin line in the distance, his body warmer by the time you stop. There is no sand beach or wood pier here, only a small stretch of marshland. The cattails sway gently in a slow breeze behind you, and you look happier than you did in the pool, your eyes glimmering.

“You need to move your arms like this,” you say, and demonstrate steps that Bucky then mimics, but you shake your head and move closer. Your hands hold his arms gently, moulding his movements to look less like he is hacking at the water and more like he is pushing at it to propel himself forth. 

Voice low, as if imparting secrets, you speak softly in his ear and are kind in your corrections. Once satisfied with his technique, you ask for him to swim beside you, and begin to move back towards the jetty you came from. 

The air is calm, and then his stomach growls loudly, prompting another peal of laughter from you, as he laughs nervously. “Didn’t you have dinner?” You wonder.

“Guess the swimming worked up some more appetite.”

Treading water, your head and shoulders bob up and down, as do his, and a new affection blooms as each of your circular ripples meet. “You wanna go for a midnight snack?”  

He thinks about what has brought the two of you there, a restlessness, a soulful ache for something unnameable. The night has ended in a way he did not expect, but he is better for it, and hopes you are, too. Something is blooming, with all the soft elegance of cherry blossoms and the deep understanding of hearts resonating with each other. Something he wants to see grow further and take root. He needs to know what your favorite food is, what it took for you to get to where you are, what you like to do in your free time. 

Bucky wants to see more of you you, this version of you, the athlete away from the competition, the woman in her element, the teacher with a student, because he is drowning in all of you, so he could not be any happier to answer: “I’d love to,” and have you smile like the Pacific Ocean, wide and warm and welcoming, in response. 

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 6: “Heartfelt Appeal”

You find two characters that click so well, look them up...and there’s no content! ‘Why?? Someone please make content!’ The pleas go unheard. You’ll just have to make it yourself. Show some love for your rare pairs today!

MORE FANTASYSHIPPING! 8D

Year 2’s Duel Monster Spirit Day! Friendly reminder that ‘Mana’ is the name Dark Magician Girl gave when she introduced herself to Syrus last year.

Colorful banners and streamers hang from the entrance hall once more, market tents set up in the main yard with flashy signs and flags announcing their wares or food or other activities. Syrus stares at it all with the same wonder as last year, and peers through the throng of students hopefully. His other friends have already gone off to find the activities they like best, be it duels or carnival games or the kissing booth, so Syrus is free to wander at his leisure and search.

It’s stupid, it’s silly, and Syrus still wonders if last year was a fever dream regardless of the way Christina keeps teasing him and the ghost of arms he sometimes feels around his shoulders. But still, he hopes and maybe this year he can confirm it for sure.

“Syrus!” a voice calls out that tickles his memory and Syrus swings to face-

“Mana!” Heat floods his cheeks. Dear Ra, did she get prettier or is he just hopelessly, stupidly crushing? “You...you just disappeared last time,” he squeaks out the first thing that comes to mind that isn’t a jumbled mess of pretty hug magic like, and wants to kick himself when Mana’s expression falls.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, looking so sad it physically hurts. “I didn’t want it to end that way. I lost track of the time and I wasted too much of it showing off.” Her voice turns a bit bitter before she shrugs it off and smiles again. “But not this time. This time you have my full attention.”

“No, no!” Syrus frantically waves his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean- I what?”

Mana giggles and leans down. “Just for today, you have me all to yourself!” Winking, she taps his nose and Syrus wheezes as his heart makes a valiant attempt at pounding straight out of his chest. Leaning back, Mana clasps her hands behind her back. “So what do you want to do?”

“Ah, well, um, we, we could, we could check out the carnival games,” Syrus finally stammers out a full sentence. Gods he hasn’t been this bad about it since the beginning of the year!

Mana only giggles again as she takes his hand and heads off toward the game booths. “Don’t go hiding in a trashcan on me now.”

Syrus’ brain freezes for a full second. “YOU SAW THAT?”

“I see everything Chinatsu sees! Well, almost.”

Who the hell is Chinatsu?!

*

It takes a solid 30 minutes and two botched carnival games to finally work himself out of that last anxiety attack, but finally his heartrate feels normal and he doesn’t want to die of mortification. If he dies he won’t get to see Mana smile or hear her squeal over the stuffed Happy Lover she won from the last game. Her throwing arm is ridiculously good. She’s also amazingly child-like for...however old she’s supposed to be.

“Ooo! I wanna try that! I wanna try that!” she squeals, pointing animatedly at the food stall with an assortment of pastries. “The bean fishies! Chinatsu loves these! I always wanted to try one!”

Syrus orders them a taiyaki each and ends up going back for seconds when Manna practically melts where she stands. “It’s so rich and sweet~!”

The next half hour ends up devoted purely to letting Mana sample all the food at the festival and discover her favorites. They compare tastes and Syrus offers recommendations. Mana ends up leaning more towards milder flavors of the sweet and savory variety; too much flavor and she’ll gag on it even if she likes the taste. Syrus prefers saltier foods with just a tiny extra kick. Mana’s reaction to hot spices had been concerning but strangely fun.

“Hey, um, if it’s not rude to ask...” Syrus starts as they sit on a bench nibbling on dango. Mana tilts her head to show she’s listening and Syrus ploughs ahead before he can talk himself out of it. “Are you really the Dark Magician Girl?”

Manna chews slowly before swallowing. “What do you think, silly?”

He thinks she is, and he’d call it crazy if not for, well, everything else crazy about the last two years of his life. After literally sentient murder crazy light, he might be ready to believe anything. But then- “Why me?”

“Because you wanted to get to know me,” Manna says without missing a beat. “You didn’t just see a pretty face or a powerful mage; you wanted to know the real me beneath all of that.”

“Oh...” Syrus remembers that conversation. Christina asked him why he had a card crush on the Dark Magician Girl. Did she ask because...

“And because I want to get to know you too,” Mana continues and Syrus sputters as his poor heart makes itself known again. “I’ve gotten to watch you a lot but that’s not the same as interacting. I want you to show me who you are. And I want to show you who I am.”

“Me? But I’m...I’m not...” His eyes fall to the ground as he thinks of that embarrassing episode of hiding in a trash can, of his brother who he couldn’t even stand up to in the end, of the Society of Light that he did absolutely nothing to help stop and even got himself kidnapped by a digital woman and her duel monster lackeys.

“Syrus.” A hand on his cheek brings him back to face Mana’s deep green eyes. “You can do anything and be anyone you want to be. I mean, just look at you already.” She plucks at the yellow blazer and Syrus’ chest fills with pride at the reminder. That’s right. He did do that. All on his own. “You look so good in yellow!” Mana cheers and Syrus’ ducks his face away again. He doesn’t know how to handle all these compliments! “Believe in yourself, and when that’s hard to do, believe me when I say I believe you can do anything.”

Those words might mean more to him than any other praise or pep talk he’s gotten before, simply because they sound so genuine. He’ll hold those words close to his heart for the rest of his life, because someone as strong and powerful as the freaking Dark Magician Girl believes in him. Swallowing, he nods and clears his throat to find his voice. “So, um, what do you wanna know?”

Smiling, Mana stands and pulls him straight back to the carnival games. Oh, so they’re not talking more? Syrus has to admit to being disappointed.

“Favorite color?” Mana asks as they try to catch tiny goldfish and distracts Syrus from the extra shiny one he almost caught.

“Actually...it’s orange,” he amidst sheepishly. “But I look horrid in it.”

“Aw, I think you’d look cute in orange! Like a little pumpkin.”

“A pumpkin?!”

“Oh? I’m sorry, was that an insult?” Mana asks with such genuine concern and confusion that Syrus can’t even be mad.

Shaking his head, Sryus flips the question around on her. “What about you?”

Mana stares at the water in the plastic pool. “It used to be purple...but I think I like grey a little better now.” She looks up and smiles and Syrus can’t help but feel like he’s missed something significant in that response.

“Favorite animal?” Mana asks once they’ve moved on to a ring toss game.

“Dogs,” Syrus says immediately, then feels self conscious about it. “I mean, they’re loyal and fluffy and I’ve always wanted one, they look fun to play with-”

Mana laughs. “Dogs are man’s best friend, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Mine are birds.” Mana looks up to the sky. “Because they can fly. I always wanted that freedom.”

“But you can fly too, can’t you?”

“In spirit form. But I can’t go too far from my card. Like this I can only float a bit.” With a snap of her fingers, her feet lift a couple centimeters off the ground in demonstration.

“That’s so cool.” Syrus stares in awe as Mana sets her feet back on the ground.

“The silliest thing you’ve ever done?”

A deep breath as a laundry list of his most mortifying experiences assault him. Breath out. He digs deeper for an older memory less tarnished by years of ridicule and insecurity. “I wore a sand bucket on my head and called myself a king.”

Mana laughs, loud and sudden, and Syrus takes pride in his four year old self for managing to entertain two people. He doubts he’d share that memory with anyone else; it’s one of the few he has of Zane smiling.

“I used to hide in giant vases then jump out and scare the crap out of my best friend,” Mana says with a wide grin, and Syrus snorts because he can picture it clearly. “Master always scolded me, but his reactions were too fun.”

Her master? Dark Magician then? Syrus wonders what kind of person would get to hang out with both of them. Probably another powerful spellcaster. “What is he like? Your master? Or...is he here today too?”

“Mahad? No, his situation is different from mine so it’s harder for him to cross the border,” Mana says, scanning the festival for their next game. “He’s pretty strict, and doesn’t know how to take a joke. But he’s kind and selfless.” Her voice grows soft and wistful, then she shakes herself and scratches her cheek. “Honestly, we’re kinda opposites, but that’s what makes it fun.”

She points to a shooting game booth before eagerly charging toward it; Syrus shows her how to use the toy gun and manages to beat her at this game. He still lets her pick out the prize, giggling when she picks out a lucky cat keychain.

“Dream career?” The key chain sways as it dangles from her finger.

Syrus fidgets. “It may seem kinda obvious, but I wanna be a pro duelist. A really famous one,” he mumbles, eyes turning to the ground.

“I bet you’ll be more famous that Yugi!” Mana cheers and Syrus quickly waves his hand in front of him.

“No! No, I doubt that!”

“Do you wanna have kids?” she asks while they fish for balloons with little hooks on strings.

Syrus chokes and drops his string straight into the water. “I mean, uh, maybe?? I guess I’d like- like to settle down and- and have a family- eventually...”

Mana smiles, but it looks a bit sad. “Yeah. I definitely want that too.”

“Best childhood memory?” Nimble fingers rifle through the Senbonbiki strings before giving one a tug.

Syrus answers without hesitation. “Zane teaching me how to duel.”

The string is a dud without a prize attached; Mana turns from pouting to look at Syrus with curious eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah... we...” Syrus looks away, tries to keep the melancholy out of his voice. “We had a good relationship back then.”

Mana hums, reaching out to take his hand and wander back through the festival. “I think...mine is meeting Atem for the first time.”

Atem. That’s Christina’s ace card. Syrus shouldn’t be surprised he’s a duel spirit too. “Are all monster cards duel spirits?”

“Not every card has a spirit attached, but I have noticed almost every design mirrors a creature or person that actually exists.”

“Weird.” Honestly, Syrus never thought about it before, but it’s really weird that a game on Earth could accurately depict creatures from another dimension. Sure, Pegasus based the original cards off carvings he found in Egypt, but those were 3000 years old! Some of the new archetypes look distinctly futuristic, and Jaden designed the Neo Spacians so explain that! Just thinking about it gives Syrus a headache.

“Have you ever lost a fight?” he ventures to ask as they nibble on chocolate bananas.

“Lots of times,” Mana laughs at herself. “Especially during training. And no matter how good you are there’s always someone stronger, so tactical retreat is necessary!”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Syrus nods. The sky’s getting darker. Will Mana still be here for the fireworks? “What’s it like being a spirit?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. “It’s...lonely sometimes,” she admits, voice soft, almost forlorn. “Not many people can see us. We entertain ourselves by watching the world and taking bets on what kind of trouble Jaden will get into next.” Mana shrugs and smiles, an obvious attempt to make light of the situation, but Syrus can see straight through it.

“Oh,” he says, wishing he could put his emotions into words that wouldn’t hollow.

Mana glances out at the darkening sky, voice soft as she asks, “One thing you really wanna do before you die?”

“Huh?” The question startles Syrus as much as the oddly wistful tone. “I guess...” He hesitates. One thing? The thing he wants to do most? That he’d regret never doing? “I wanna be happy. With someone I mean!” he quickly amends and the word babble spills out from there. “I wanna get married and buy a house and share my life with someone. I know it probably doesn’t sounds that ambitious but-”

“No, that’s a great ambition.”

Syrus can’t really name the emotion on Mana’s face. Nodding, he looks down at his feet and fiddles with his hands. “Maybe...if we get to know each other better...you could be that person?” He squeezes his eyes shut, not daring to look up.

An intake of breath. “Syrus...”

The boom rattles through his bones and Syrus screams, flinging himself towards the nearest source of comfort and shelter, straight into Mana’s arms. Oh. Oh, the fireworks! Prying his eyes open reveals bursts of color lighting up the sky as another boom shakes the air. He laughs awkwardly and rights himself, murmuring an apology.

“I don’t have much time left,” Mana says, colored light illuminating her mournful expression, and the dread seizes Syrus by the throat.

“Ki-kiss me properly this time!” Oh gods his voice cracked and got really screechy, but he said it! His hands fist against his legs, trembling as her heart goes off on another marathon, and what if she rejects him? What if he read this all wrong? What if-

“Okay.”

Her kiss lingers on his lips long after the fireworks fade and she disappears back to being a spirit. He can still feel her hand against his own, and this time he knows it’s real.

[sereisstuff]

𝐀 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞  J.JK

 ~   Jeon Jungkook was a lightweight champion a so-called minute legend, rising to stardom rather quickly while basking in wads of cash and pools of opportunity, therefore, leaving his right hand woman y/n to wallow in the shallows unforgivably with a relationship that pleads for more and a tension that tightens by the minute.

~ Includes - Angst, an angry Jungkook. Drug consumption and neglect. Tears, pain. Slight fluff and rough tension, foolishness, cussing and self doubt, slight kissing and mixed emotions. 

~ This is my first long one shot. 

~WORD COUNT : 4188K

Plus size reader

Jungkook was anguished, unable to comprehend the atrocities he just fulfilled in front of everyone. His anger often speculated multiple things but never did they assume they’re most beloved lightweight competitor had a source for all his rage. The fire he lit distinguished itself in his burning temper while his hand was thrust into a crowd of roaring spectators, not far from him a man laid bloodied and somewhat busted in defeat.

His opponent had muttered something about his best friend, how she would be fine under his fitted sheets with muffled moans and even if the trash talk was embedded within the arena, the amount of disgust he felt hearing those prudent words escape the man’s mouth had oiled something unforgivable inside of himself. You, of course, didn’t hear a word, unsure of your ground while you watched your childhood best friend curl his fist tightly before shoving it into the knockout zone of his opponents face, a gasp was withdrawn from your mouth and you abruptly stood with a cheer.

Yet jungkook had let a scoff escape his lips seeing the man behind him lay in his own pool of misconception, cocky it was to even consider being proud but he was nonetheless. However, this gained him the name one-minute legend, sounded like some sick perverted nickname a pubescent teen gift they’re former in hopes their self-esteem declines.

Jungkook had dashed from the stage into your arms eagerly, you both shared a heartwarming embrace as you shouted praises into his ear “You did it, kook!!! You won!! I knew you had it in you, god I’m so proud of you” his strong arms rested around your waist, tightening by the minute in fear that the spoken words his opponent shared would reach your ears. Yet that day was the destination for his publicity, gaining a name for himself also gained him a renowned position in the hierarchy of boxers.

This led to you having to constantly stick to his side like glue, he requested you be there as support and being his best friend how could you deny the luxury. Although this also led your minimal crush blossoming into something more and you couldn’t be more enraged with yourself then now, his fame was admirable but it shifted something within him.

“I assure you, their only childhood friends. It would be incompetent for him to settle so early” Yuna laughed whilst distracting the publishers of the minor county, her small glance wasn’t missed as she sorrowfully shot you a distant look. Yuna time and again proved herself worthy of managing Jungkook's matches and doing so with gratitude yet she was also your standing figure right now, Jungkook trained like there was no tomorrow and being careful of his enraged outburst they had called you in hopes of slowing his dedication down to a workable pace.

“How long has he been like this,” you asked, genuinely curious about the pertain able answer Yuna was about to give you, she seethed in an eager breath but hesitated towards the end “Yuna, I need to know. He hasn’t contacted me in days and for that to happen- I’m sorry just tell me how long he’s been training himself?” you continued once more, foot desperately tapping at the ground with anxiety filling every fiber of your being.

“He’s been going since 2 in the morning, a few hours after you left for work” she informed sadly, Yuna thought of Jungkook as a younger brother and to see him in such a distasteful state was heartbreaking for her, that and she hadn’t slept in the past two days due to the income of numerous calls and agents seeking interest in Jungkook’s formidable skills which were clearly shown in his iconic match a few months ago.

“He’s in there, right?” you countered, finger pointed to the door while waiting for Yuna to nod her head and gesture for you to go. Yuna waved you off as you walked tediously towards the door, finally able to grasp the heavy breaths and smooth punches escalating every running second just from the door which made you curious how beyond the solid wood looked?

You opened the door with a light push simultaneously you met the sight of Jungkook sweating pools of his own hard work, T-shirt disregarded to the floor and his wounds fleshing badly causing a small yelp to escape your mouth, the room was spacious, filling but a mere part of the building still, it was his to keep. Weights resided within every corner with a matte black for simplicity and not far towards the middle of the room sat a match ground with black ropes embracing it.

“Jungkook” you frowned, closing the door from the eye of the public as you walked towards Jungkook who was high in intensity, his curled fist hadn’t loosened and due to the number of overwhelming matches, he was presumably growing addicted to the adrenaline.

“No, I need to train” Jungkook grumbled, inhaling a deep long breath before he began punching the sand-filled bag once more, you removed the sneakers from your feet before stepping on to the mat respectfully“Jungkook, listen to me. You need rest and I’m not leaving until you stop what you’re doing and go home. Everyone is worried about you especially me” you pleaded heavily slowly approaching Jungkook.

His tattoos glistened under the gleaming light and the highlighted sweat, bicep tensing with every punch thrown chaotically “Go home y/n, rest or something. You’re coming to my match with me tonight?” his demanding question broke in exhaustion towards the end of his sentence, alike his notions you also cried for his attention “what if I said no, hmm?” This made him abruptly stop, a frown knitted between his two strong brows.

You’d never miss one of his matches, even as gullible children you attended every fight of his. Often going with his parents who kindly offered their protection and an escort to and from your parents home, Jungkook, however, couldn’t think about a day where you didn’t come with him everywhere, you were his best friend. The only person he willingly let succumb to his unearthly chaos, someone who could calm him on his cold nights because without you he wouldn’t be in a position that he proudly took today, literally.

“Exactly, now pack your shit Jungkook. You have a match tonight and god forbid you faint before you even reach the octagon” you spoke with an unbreakable tone, wishing to see that soft smile he once wore like a crown. The tips of his lips curled slightly but never did it fully reach his alluring eyes, he was reaching his peak publicity and you weren’t going to stop him.

Jungkook huffed using his injured hand to run through his thick, wet locks. He stood there, unclothed with a prominent aura as his tall body faced you with a perplexed look floating through his curious yet hooded hues “Come on kook, grab your things” your voice was soft and angelic, not too rough on the edges once you approached Jungkook who signed diligently to himself.

Hands caressing his cheeks while biting his lip in temptation “you can train tomorrow, you’re already doing amazing don’t overwork yourself.” Your soft touch slid down his forearm into his hands “Okay!” Jungkook looked down at you with an unreadable look composing with shivers running up and down his body as he repeated your words with a bright smile “Okay, chubs”.

He was a force to be reckoned with, founding his matches with the deepest temperamental attributes he could find within himself. He treated the ring with a mindset which he releases all his impending emotions out into the world, he had issues. Anger was only one soiling in his garden of mentality.

Almost every week you treated him to a few lunches, oftentimes he would reside in your embrace towards the end of the night where the sunny dues hollowed behind the hills and the callous moon shone with a luminescent light peeking through your barreled window cell. The lace depicted multiple floral patterns that when the moon was in the right place, shone against his warm honey coated skin in all its magnificence.

His skin was torn and rough yet held an undertone of purity, sheered in white but stained in blood. Night after night you focused on repairing his wounds, some were mild and others would be considered endangering, though it only got worse with time. Day after day his name was ringing bells on everyone’s doorstep, Jeon Jungkook the knockout champion was what they called him.

He was raised in the chain of renowned people, with this sudden title came money and fame. Jungkook earned a decent amount before but now, it was sickening. You were proud of him and discussed the sudden fame he tampered with, he promised nothing would happen. His attitude wouldn’t change yet that’s where you were foolish enough to believe his innocent intentions. 

“The winner is, Jeon Jungkook the knockout king” was looping every match followed by cheers that could be heard miles away, Jungkook would embrace you every single game, although hours later he reeked of sweat and intoxication, the callous hand of money overwhelmed him to a certain point where he no longer understood what to do with it. Money, cars and homes all laid like dimes in his hands, so he extended his degree. Spending money on you like a little barbie doll, gifting some to his parents and splashing it on awful things.

That didn’t stop you from loving him endlessly, even when it hurt you more to do so.

You had been busy at the bar you worked at, taking up double shifts when the offer was placed not having the courage to face this new publicity seeking best friend of yours. The way he downed bottles of the substance that earned you a living was cruel, never did you think the craft he dedicated himself too would put him in such a position.

“Hey, your phone has been going off for the past hour? You should really answer it” Jihoon called, the phone you had bought was impenetrable in his hands. You shrugged off his advances for you to answer Jungkook's pleads, even so Yuna’s too and probably many more people seeking your company.

“They can wait” you replied dully, shoving a bright smile onto your face. It was almost like Jungkook had finally noticed your distaste for his actions. “Surely” Jihoon rolled his eyes not liking the disliking tone seeping from your venomous mouth, change was bound to come for you and Jungkook but never did you think it would be so soon.

“How’s your boyfriend been?” Jihoon cooed making you gulp at the name “he’s not my boyfriend Jihoon, he’s just a childhood best friend is all” you spoke through a tremble, you were soon succumbing to the desirable thoughts leaking past your mind every running minute. The hatred you felt knowing the love you had for Jungkook was only ever growing, it was like walking through a haunted forest, not knowing when you were going to be pushed away.

“Whatever floats your boat, darl” his tone was lavish, almost too lavish. Pointing a finger towards the answer button on your phone leaving no room for your pleads to comfort his brass decision. Jungkook sighed hearing the phone being answered, erupting a certain taste for whom wrapped his knuckles now. He missed you, not knowing the decisions he made were pushing you further and further from his reach but you couldn’t be too devious to believe he would let such a gem escape him. 

He would be lying if he said tears didn’t escape his doe eyes every now and then, the parties, heathen bound air with a tinge of drugs seeping through his skin could never replace the warmth you offered him, comforting his insecurities in his darkest hours.

“Y/n” his breathing was uneven, erratic and almost death defying. He’d been running, training for hours on end hoping you would burst through the door claiming his acts as a monstrosity. Yet to his demise, the door rattled before the wind. Somewhat bringing comfort to his clouded mind “Hey, kook. What’s wrong? “You managed to say with eyes closed in disbelief towards your former workmate.

Jungkook whimpered as he laid alone against the wall of the gym, his eyes examining the promise ring he’d bought you “Kook?” you called again only meeting the short response of leveled breathing, worry was churning your stomach and heat raised to your cheeks “Jungkook, I have work. Call me back” and with that you impulsively hung up the line.

Jihoon shook his head, you dropped your phone onto the bench while grumbling “what?” Jihoon laughed, smiling towards another customer who took the drink leaving the bar empty for you both to conversate openly “Why don’t you tell him?” he asked.

“Tell him what? He can’t even talk properly without slurring cause he’s so bloody intoxicated all the time” it was a painful truth, to cover up his failure he chose a path of addiction and the side he would reside on your bed was left to wallow in the tender touch of winter.

“Tell him that you love him?!?” Jihoon shouted, gaining the eyes of the vigilant visitors. Some began to point to your direction constantly discussing your name very faintly, just like that you were known as his best friend. Something you’ll forever be and that was the painstaking truth.

“You know I can’t do that, Jihoon. No matter how much I love him, how reckless he is, I will always only be the best friend, his right hand girl. It sucks but there’s nothing I can do about it, because no matter how hard I wanna stop feeling, He’ll always have those alluring eyes staring at me, giving me hope” you breathed, tears brimming the edges of your eyes

…….

The sudden knock against your home door woke you from your sleep, glancing towards the broken clock sitting beside your bed as the time read 2.45 am. The knock rung continuously following a few sounds of metal being fiddled with, the struck noise made you rise tirelessly from your slumber, curling a tight hand around the minimal pocket knife placed under your pillow for protection.

The perpetrator groaned, wailing in agony for the door to relish under the mellow light once you turned it on feeling oddly familiarized with the tone. Hand brisking the handle with a tedious turn in your wrist, a heavy breath migrated from your throat with the knife heaving in your sea of worries. pulling the door open, following the broken wood came Jungkook's drunk state, his ear was solid against the door listening to any footsteps you might have produced through your journey, perching himself against the door towards the sudden pull.

 “Have you been drinking, again?” you prompted first in worry, Jungkook was slurring through his words. noticing his car parked across your lawn and the door of his new BMW was opened, left to close itself. He was leant up against your door with an incurable pain in his eyes and a bottle raised to your face “why have you been ignoring me, chubs” Jungkook slurred tripping over his own feet, the hoodie seized on his ruffled hair almost sliding off with every harsh move he made. You ignored his incoherent whines, taking long strides to his car. The smell was revolting, almost like an intoxicating drug was thrown around carelessly wafting into the air of dampened clothes and alcoholic beverages. Not seeing your former for the past week only for him to come barging into your home at early hours of dusk

You turned his engine off and continued to close his doors safely, Jungkook had caught himself on the step lying face-first on the floor. The sudden impact caused an array of wounds to crack open leaving his beaten face bloodied in injuries “Come on, kook. Let’s get you cleaned up, alright” you gasped, lending a hand around his neck after he tousled on the floor with a groan.

Jungkook didn’t have it in himself to fight, shimmering under the bright light was a bed comfortable enough for him to fall into a comatose state.

“God, look at you. You're a mess” You reached behind your small cupboard grabbing a medical kit, leaning in unconsciously, hence being used to bandaging his wounds you began applying a decent amount of ointment and alcohol to his face after cleansing it gently with some water. Jungkook had slightly sobered up, yet he didn’t speak.

Admiring the proximity as you were inches away from his face, peeking from beneath his bangs at you tiredly apprehending his injuries with delicacy. It was all sudden, his strong breath hit your face as he spoke, this time clearly and fully demanding your attention “why have you been ignoring me?” he rumbled slowly

He clearly hadn’t been paying attention towards himself lately, there were multiple reasons as to why you no longer comforted him on his off nights “Just rest up” you replied, ignoring his silent plea which fell on deaf ears “No, y/n. I need answers, you stopped showing up to training. You stopped answering my calls and I’m lucky if I even get a reply to my messages. I’m sure if I had a match this week you wouldn't even show up. So tell me, I have the right to know why you're being so distant.” Jungkook growled, his overflowing bottle of ridicule was filling to a brim

You pinched the bridge of your nose tentatively examining his face “just look at you Jungkook, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore” the truth was weightless on your tongue, darting a tongue across your lips, glistening them in saliva causing Jungkook to stare down at your lips before darting his eyes back onto your face. His eyes wide in frustration “I could say the same for you” he scoffed.

“you show up to my house at quarter to three in the morning drunk off your ass. Thinking I’m gonna embrace you with all my love, you’ve been doing this for the past three months, Jungkook. Three!! Of course I’m gonna be worried about you but I can’t do it anymore” your heart hammered against your chest and the unreadable look on his face was horrifying.

Jungkook was lost for words, just about to defend his acts before you shut him up again “Remember when we were kids, you promised you wouldn’t hurt me, ever, now look at you. It pains me more to ignore you, but right now I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry” Jungkook had stood up with his intricate hair shielding his sight, ready to face the consequences of his actions towards the one he silently loved from afar.

“You said you would always be there for me now look, where were you huh? Where was that kookie who couldn’t even watch a romance movie without crying. You think ignoring you was the worst, you left me every single night to go get high off your kite only to come weeping back into my arms for me to face the harsh aftermath kook. I’m sick of it” Your voice was shouting, the clouded thoughts struck Jungkook harshly as his nostrils flared in anger.

You stood up, matching his posture. Your hand clasp around his chest with your head hung low “I love you Jungkook, but you can’t even be there for me. I’m tired and you don’t even notice, I’m just some punching bag for your emotions like a fucking idiot. But you know I won’t leave you and that’s the messed up part” your tears caressed your cheeks, rapidly seeking an output.

Jungkook leaned his head back suddenly feeling the weight of his loss crash down on his harder than ever, reaching around your nape to embrace your body in his. Seizing your fist in his open palms leading your struggling arms around his tiny waist.

He rested his head on top of yours, the hot tears pooling around his hoodie “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking y/n.” was all he managed to say, in all honesty Jungkook never let any harm befall you, recent times called for him to fall effortlessly in love with you yet you still managed to make him fall deeper, he’d always liked you from the beginning even as a child, you were his number one supporter, never leaving his side amidst the risk.

“Your so stupid, Jungkook.” Came your sniffle, you’d stopped crying a moment ago but preferred to relish in the memories of Jungkook's embrace, when was the last time he held you like this? It was warm, shaded by his cold outlook Jungkook was rarely what the media depicted.

“Look at me, y/n” Jungkook coeed leaning his head back a little bit enough for his hands to cradle your chubby cheeks in his large hands, your tear glistening eyes peered up at him “You deserve the world and if you give me a chance I’ll do anything to give it to you, let me make it up to you and I promise I won’t fuck it up this time” Jungkook words had knitted your frown together, what was he asking?

“What do you mean?” you questioned warily, Jungkook used his tattooed hand as a tissue wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb “I bought you something a while ago, I couldn’t find it in myself to ask you but now I feel like this is the only time I’ll have the courage to do it.”  He proposed nervously, reaching deep into his pocket while one of his arms still tenderly embraced your waist.

Out came an indigo box, the sudden thought brought a gasp from your lips “will you take this promise ring? My love” my love? Everything was so freshen in abundance, you nodded your head in infirmity. Claming to the thin veil of hope that this wasn’t just a dream, the man you loved since you could first remember was suddenly laying his life and career on the line to promise you something you only wished for.

But was it the right choice?  

Jungkook pulled you into a passionate kiss once you screamed a strong and prominent yes, too eager you were to gain his hand in marriage. It was all unfathomable, he’d also involuntarily moved you into his priceless mansion he adjusted to weeks earlier. You were still adjusting to calling him your boyfriend too, knowing a promise ring meant nothing but what was said in the word. A promise.

He made your Mondays more enjoyable, waking up to his exquisite beauty and oftentimes incoherent snores which you came to adore. Bopping his bruised nose while caressing his cheek, treasuring the moment. He yearned for an embrace to coo in and you gave that, the warmth you offered was his to grasp.

He also stopped coming home high off his kite, the alcohol abuse subsidized and you couldn’t be more happy to have the old kook back. Attending his fights every week with a new outlook for the media, notorious for protecting Jungkook and calming him down when others looked down at his abilities and even when they would make explicit detailed things to say to you in hopes of angering their former opponent.

“Just ignore them baby” you would say, holding his hand tightly in remembrance of your existence, roping him back to reality and soothing the red he was growing to see.

“I’m yours okay baby, don’t worry about them” You muttered after the incident, your dress rising up as you straddled Jungkook to gain his attention “ forget about him.” you continued, Jungkook had a dark look in his eyes. Gawking towards your position as his hands placed themselves on your exposed thighs covered in his markings he consciously made nights before “I’ll always be here okay, look at me. I’ve been here since the beginning nothing and I mean nothing will make me ever want to leave you”

Jungkook breathed, blinking rapidly as his head bobbed down leaving you to pick his chin up to face your worried face. The driver had already left the building and you both were off to his next event, yet even with a face as bruised as his own people still recognized him “keep your head high kook, I love you and I just wish the best for you okay” you were pecking his lips in reassurance and he managed to pull the ends of his lips into a simple smile.

“I’ll listen to you” Jungkook spoke, leaning his forehead against yours as you both shared a breath. Reminiscing the days where you cradled each other in friendship “I love you baby”

Nothing was ever harder for a boxer then the constant matches, yet being with one was probably the hardest task of all.

[bitter69uk]

Recently watched: The Girl in the Black Stockings (1957). Tagline: “She was every inch a teasing, taunting “come-on” blonde … and she made every inch pay off!” I’m using this period of enforced social isolation to explore the weirder corners of YouTube for long forgotten and obscure movies. (My boyfriend is accompanying me only semi-willingly). 

Look, I don’t mean to overpraise what’s essentially a lurid minor exploitation b-movie. But in terms of low-brow fifties pulp thrills, the addictively trashy Girl in the Black Stockings veritably pulsates with prurience, misogyny, twisted psychology and an almost tangible revulsion towards sex. And it condenses its shock-by-shock twists into a taut 73-minutes. 

While vacationing at The Parry Lodge, a luxe mountain resort in Utah, hunky Los Angeles-based attorney Dave Hewson (Lex Barker) tentatively romances shy Beth Dixon (Anne Bancroft), the hotel’s switchboard operator. We first encounter the couple dancing by moonlight at an outdoor pool party. “Are you breathing this hard because of me or the altitude?” Hewson suavely inquires.  Their tryst is abruptly ruined when he lights a cigarette, and the flame illuminates a brutally slain female corpse in the bushes. The dead woman is Marsha Morgan – the local “good time girl” (prepare for lots of slut-shaming and blame-the-victim talk). Her throat has been slit – and her black stockings are in shreds! Suddenly, every guest and employee at Parry Lodge is a suspect – and what a menagerie of freaks they are! They’re all hiding sordid secrets, and they all seem guilty as hell. One thing’s for sure: as Hewson surmises, “We’re not dealing with an ordinary killer committing an ordinary crime!” 

The hotel’s proprietor is Edmund Parry (Ron Randell), an embittered misanthropic quadriplegic who viscerally loathes women in general and Marsha Morgan in particular. “I must say, the man-eating witch deserved it!” he’s apt to declare. “She was poison. Like a disease! A common creature whose every word, every breath, every gesture, was the show of an empty shallow strumpet. Miss Morgan was an example of a completely justifiable homicide!” Edmund is doted on by Julia (Marie Windsor), his devoted-to-the-point-of-incest sister. Does Edmund’s paralysis eliminate him as the killer? (It’s hinted his disability is psychosomatic). And what about the hotel’s knife-wielding, blood-splattered Native American handyman Joe (Larry Chance)? Due to an alcoholic black-out, he can’t account for his actions on the night of Marsha’s murder. Or bad boy ex-con sawmill employee Frankie (Gerald Frankie), who was sexually entangled with Marsha? Meanwhile, faded matinee idol Norman Grant (John Holland) is staying at Parry Lodge while preparing for a screen comeback, accompanied by his platinum blonde paramour Harriet Ames (Mamie Van Doren). As more dead bodies begin cropping up (cut to newspaper headline exclaiming “Maniac Strikes Again!”), it becomes apparent a serial killer is stalking this remote desert town. Who will be next?  

The Girl in the Black Stockings certainly boasts a fun ensemble cast.  By this point, premium fifties beefcake leading man Lex Barker (a former husband of Lana Turner’s) had already portrayed Tarzan and was yet to feature in Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita (1960). Barker’s facial expression is permanently set to “pensive squint”, but we get copious glimpses of his wondrous physique, so who’s complaining? Today we remember Anne Bancroft as a heavy-weight credible “prestige” talent, but before she won her 1962 Best Actress Academy Award for The Miracle Worker, she paid her dues in b-movies like Don’t Bother to Knock (1952), Gorilla at Large (1954) and this one. Character actor John Dehner plays local sheriff Jess Holmes as if he’s wandered in from a Western. Tough-as-nails film noir broad Marie Windsor is cast against type in a virtuous “good girl” role. The Girl in the Black Stockings’ poster mischievously hints archetypal fifties bad girl and personification of moist womanly needs Mamie Van Doren is the film’s star (and the titular girl in the black stockings). In fact, her third-billed role as “the stunning blonde who lived for pleasure” is surprisingly small. Ultimately, it’s Ron Randell’s ferocious performance as the twisted-by-hatred Edmund that leaves the most indelible impression. 

Because it was made in ’56 (when the Motion Picture Production Code was still enforced), The Girl in the Black Stockings can only imply the violence and kink. All the murders occur off screen, but the script compensates by having characters describe the mutilations in gruesome detail (“A girl was slaughtered and carved-up like a side of beef tonight!” “Those arms! Cut up like a jigsaw puzzle!”).  Some particularly vivid moments: when one of the potential culprits is cornered by the cops at the lumber mill, he panics and falls into a buzz saw! And when a little girl discovers a dead body floating face down in the hotel’s pool, she giggles, “Look at that funny man!” Foreshadowing Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960), William Castle’s Strait-Jacket (1964), eighties slasher films and even David Lynch’s Twin Peaks (think of Marsha Morgan as the equivalent of Laura Palmer), The Girl in the Black Stockings offers a tawdry good time. 

Watch the film here. 

[weebtarurights]

Azami Izumida SSR ( Thistle Aloha ) - Part 2

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 

Story Title: "The Melancholy of  a Hair and Makeup Artist"

Misumi: Yay~! Pool~! Kazunari: The pool comes in different types too~! Juza: Right. Izumi: Huge crowds flock here during hot weather. Citron: Birds of the same feather flock together. Omi: Almost correct but that's not how you use it. Sakuya: Which one should we play on first? Muku: U-um, I brought this... Let's all use it together. Citron: OH! It's an orca fan! How nice! Masumi: Not fan but float. Tasuku: 'Fan' and 'float' almost sound the same. Kazunari: That's extra dope~! Mukkun, you can ride it first. Muku: Yup! Let's take turns! Misumi: Looks super fun~! Azami: Why am I even here.... Izumi: You're the one who won the pool tickets after all. Of course, we can't come here without you. Sakuya: That's right! It's all thanks to Azami-kun! Azami: You don't have to bring me here though. Omi: We won't be able to enjoy this place if not because of Azami-kun. Azami: ..... By the way. Izumi: Hm? Azami: You'll get sunburned if you expose too much skin. Put this on. 

Izumi: Ah, an outerwear--

CHOICE 1: "Did you especially prepare for today" Izumi: Did you prepare it especially for today? Azami: That's just an extra. I brought them just in case. Kazunari: That's our Azamin! Omi: Haha, you're well prepared as always. Azami: .....Not a big deal. Be careful. Izumi: Yup!

CHOICE 2: "I won't get any sunburns with this" Izumi: I won't get any sunburns with this. Azami: It'll block the UV rays but make sure you still apply sunscreen properly. It's easy to get sunburns on the back of the ears and shoulders. One more thing... yadda yadda yadda...

Masumi: I'll buy you a set of sun protection products too. Izumi: Ma-Masumi-kun, I appreciate the thought, but no thanks! Azami: Did you guys applied sunscreen properly? Muku: Y-yes! Citron: Of course! Azami: I'll never forgive you if you got sunburns right before the performance. Apply plenty on the back of your neck! Apply it every time you get into the water. Juza: ....Understood. Omi: His passion for preventing sunburns is hotter than the summer heat. Izumi:  Azami-kun is amazing....

Misumi: There~! Muku: Uwah! Kazunari: Sumi~! You'll rip the orca if you pull it like that! Misumi: Ahaha, it's fine! It's fine~. Citron: Wow! There's a river over there! Kazunari: Haha, it's not a river. It's a free-flowing pool! Ah, wouldn't it be much more fun if we bring the orca over there? Misumi: Alright! Let's go!

Omi: Tasuku-san, it seems like we can play beach volleyball over there. Wanna try it? Tasuku: Sure, let's play. How about you, Hyodo? Juza: Fine by me. Sakuya: Ah, let me join too! Azami: .... Izumi:  (Azami-kun has been sitting under the shade since we got here) Misumi: Azami, do you want to swim~? Izumi: We've come all the way here, why don't you join us for a bit? Azami: ...Nah, I'm fine. Don't wanna get sunburned so don't mind me. Izumi: If you insist... Misumi: We'll play over there, join us anytime, okay~?   Azami: Yeah, if I feel like it. Izumi: (I'm kinda feeling guilty about forcing him to come with us....)

Muku: It feels good, isn't it? Izumi: The cold water penetrates my soul.   Masumi: Your happiness is my happiness. Citron: Free-flowing pool is so much fun~. Muku: Juza-chan, do you want to ride? I'll pull you! Juza: No, I'm... Masumi: Haa.... The director floating in the water is as cute as ever. Izumi: Ma-Masumi-kun, look where are you going!

Izumi: Oh, I've finished one more lap. It sure ends in no time when you're having fun. Everyone, who wants to ride next---? Eh? Huh? Did I get separated? Stranger: Hey miss, are you alone?

(T/N: He’s defs Sakyo’s son. He has taken after his father xD wwwwww) 

[scullydubois]

Only the Light (ch. 3)

Description: Missy moves in with Scully post-One Breath/Scully’s abduction. In this chapter, Scully goes through her morning routine and gets a surprise...

part 1 here. part 2 here. tagging @today-in-fic​.

“Only the Light” won the poll, so it’s now the official title! Yay! Thank you for voting and thanks for all the feedback--I love your comments. This part is the longest yet (and the best imo)--enjoy!! 

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

She floats outstretched through the sky as if it were the community pool she and Missy used to frequent as children. She tilts her face toward the sun, feels the warmth of it washing over her. Her eyes reflect the brilliant blue sky, mini-oceans in themselves. Her back is to the city, and she’s so high up she can’t hear one bit of the noise on the ground. She hopes this is what heaven is like. If this is heaven, she has nothing to fear. 

And then she’s falling, a casualty of gravity. Hell has found her. It always does. This is an unfortunate truth she must live with. The sky races past her and there’s a pit in her stomach so deep she thinks she must be breaking the laws of physics, her body stretching like a rubber band about to snap. Surely she is not a human being anymore. Surely she won’t be by the end of this.

The ground hurdles toward her. She can’t see it, but she knows. She wonders what shape they will find her in, or if she will even be found. She hopes for her family’s sake that she’s in so many pieces they can’t put her back together. It’s easier, she thinks, when the body doesn’t look human. Burying a radiant-looking thirty year old is sad. Burying a mangled mess of a corpse is a relief. 

As if on cue, her alarm chirps. She awakes in one piece and punches the alarm, reality whisking away the horror of her dreams. Sweat saturates her silk pajamas, leaving a morning dew of sorts on her sheets. The blankets were thrown off at some point during the night. She does not remember doing this, so she can only assume it was the work of the demonic force in her brain.

Waking up in a puddle of her own sweat has become commonplace since she was returned. The first time the heat was so stifling she thought she must have had a fever that broke, but the mercury thermometer in her bathroom said otherwise. Her body seems to have a mind of itself these days. 

For the time being, her mind is still functioning, so she pulls herself out of bed to get ready for work. This routine part of her day is a privilege she relishes. Very rarely does she get to function on autopilot.

It goes like this: first, she slips off her pajamas and changes her underwear. It is at this point without fail that she realizes she hasn’t bought a new pantyset in years, and wouldn’t it be nice if she did? This mental note slips away by the time she buttons her suit jacket and tucks her undershirt into her slacks.

Next, she switches on the bathroom light and performs the typical tasks of self-care--brushing her teeth, washing her face, and whatnot-- that some might find tedious or annoying. For Scully, they are soothing. She spends too much time thinking about aliens and not enough thinking about herself. She’s not sure she believes in either, but god, it would be nice to try. 

Veering close to the latest possible time at which she could still expect to beat DC traffic to the office, she brushes her hair (no time for a hundred strokes), dabs some concealer under her eyes, and swipes on her favorite lipstick. No need to go all out; she knows where she stands.

Finally, she opens her closet and stares at the rack of heels. They’re uncomfortable and damn inconvenient for an FBI agent, but Mulder’s tall and she is not. She had a fraction of her current pairs before she met Mulder. No coincidence. 

She chooses the tallest pair she owns because she needs the confidence boost. They’re headed to a nursing home in Massachusetts today, so hopefully there will be no running in the woods involved. 

She click-click-clicks down the hallway. The scent of strong coffee permeates the air. She turns the corner, and there’s her sister with a pot of coffee and two plates of scrambled eggs. It is seven o’clock in the morning, and they were up at 3am last night. The last thing Scully expects is for her sister to be cognizant, let alone to have cooked. 

“Good morning sunshine.” Missy slides a plate over to Scully’s usual spot at the table and pours the piping hot coffee into a ‘Kiss Me, I’m A Doctor’ mug. 

Scully pinches herself. No, she’s not dreaming. This is too happy to be one of her dreams anyways.

“This is a surprise,” she says as she takes a seat at the table.

“Well, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 5:30. I figured it’s been awhile since someone’s cooked you breakfast.”

Scully takes a sip of the coffee. 

“I don’t even cook myself breakfast.”

“Exactly.”

Melissa tops off Scully’s mug. 

“Is it strong enough? I couldn’t drink mine without adding about a half a cup of milk, so I figured I must be doing something right.”

Scully is so grateful to be waited on that it could be a milkshake and she wouldn’t complain. It is strong enough though, stronger than the milk and sugar mixture someone calls coffee at the FBI. 

“It’s perfect,” she says, meaning it.

“Good. I saw the end of that movie, by the way. You were right, it’s a real snoozefest.”

Scully laughs. “I actually like that movie. That’s why it helps me fall asleep.”

Missy scoffs. “They spend the entire movie pining over each other just for one chaste kiss at the end! Where’s the fun in that?”

“Probably shortly after that chaste kiss.”

Missy smirks, pleased that she’s gotten her sister to make a sex joke at seven o’clock in the morning. She softens her voice-- 

“I did want to talk to you, though.”

Scully finishes chewing the forkful of scrambled eggs in her mouth. 

“I have to leave soon or I’ll be late.”

“Late for what? One of Mulder’s slideshows?”

Scully sits back. Maybe Missy has a point.

“I’m sure you’re tired of my questioning,” Missy says, “so I won’t ask you another thing. Say what you need to say.”

Say what you need to say. So simple, yet so powerful. It occurs to Scully that no one ever gives her this type of shameless permission. They shouldn’t have to, but she’s never been one to talk out of turn. What a relief to have the freedom to speak plainly. 

She exhales. She has spent the past weeks playing back the few memories she has of her disappearance--she won’t call it the other word--and trying to decipher what happened to her. She is no closer to figuring it out than she was when Mulder gave her necklace back, but it might help to share what she does remember.

She launches into it, her memories flowing out in one long stream.

“You know, when I was in the hospital, I kept having this vision that I was in a lifeboat. There was a rope tying it to the dock and on the dock were all the people I loved, the people that were around me. You and mom and Mulder and the nurses.”

Melissa listens sympathetically, shocked and relieved that her sister is opening up.

“But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything but sit there in that boat and hope that somehow, the tether wouldn’t snap.”

This is the most vulnerable Missy can remember seeing her sister since the passing of their father. There are a respected few who have witnessed Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her mind. It’s a rare honor to witness Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her heart. 

Scully continues.

“And then it did snap, and I had...I can only describe it as a near-death experience. Dad was there...He was in his uniform with all his medals and he told me that he loved me and—that we would be together again, but not yet.”

Missy nods along.

“So I guess...that kept me from going. That’s how I knew I had to stay.”

“Wow,” Missy breathes.

“From then on, I could hear everything you guys were saying. I heard you and mom telling me that I was below the criteria of my living will and I was trying to give you a sign…”

Her voice breaks. 

“I was so scared you would pull the plug on me.”

“Oh my god, Dana.” Missy engulfs her in a hug. “I am so sorry.”

Scully breathes into her sister’s neck. Her hair smells like the strawberry shampoo they used when they were children. She wonders if Missy still uses it, decides that now is not the time to bring that up. Instead, she lets go of the hug first.

“I started thinking, if I am below the criteria of my living will, maybe that’s the right thing to do. Maybe if I ever truly wake up, I’ll be so damaged I won’t be able to work for the FBI or have anything resembling a happy life.”

She sighs. “And you and mom said your goodbyes, and I was thankful, actually, that I got to hear them because so many people don’t and you just...never know with my profession.”

She bites her lip to keep from crying.

“And then sometime later I heard Mulder come in, and his wasn’t a goodbye. He touched my hand—I could feel it but I couldn’t respond—and he told me he was there. And I could feel his sadness, but I could also feel his hope. And that was all I needed, was hope.”

“He gave you the strength to wake up,” Missy says, partly as a question. 

“Or the courage to.”

Melissa considers this. She remembers how solemn she felt going to Fox’s apartment that night, delivering the news that her sister was weakening. This must be how nurses feel when they tell loved ones to say their goodbyes, she thought at the time. When he said he wasn’t able to go see Dana in the hospital, she was furious. How can you be so naive? she thought. Are you so afraid of pain you refuse to feel your own feelings? She realizes now this sounds like something she might say to her sister. 

Melissa decides not to mention her involvement in any of this. After all, she hadn’t succeeded in convincing Fox to go to the hospital. That was his own choice. Instead, she says--

“He was really looking out for you, you know. He was a soldier for your cause.”

The edges of Scully’s lips turn up the slightest bit.

“I don’t doubt it. Mulder is nothing if not a good soldier.”

Melissa thinks back on meeting Fox. She said that Dana had talked to her, that her soul was there. He didn’t believe her.

“Fox was exactly what you said he would be,” she tells her sister, “and somehow I was still surprised by the sheer force of his determination.”

Scully chuckles. 

“Well, I don’t exaggerate these things. If anything, I downplay them.”

“No kidding.”

Melissa wets her lips, letting silence rest comfortably at the table with them.

“You’re really lucky you know, to have him as a partner.”

Scully nods. 

“I know.”

And she does.

[fanfics-arent-therapy-but-idc]

Zutara fluff

Oneshot

Love

Katara found herself unconsciously bending droplets of sweat off her forehead and arms as her carriage pulled into the palace. “How does the fire nation manage to get hotter every time I visit ?” She asks herself as her aid helps her off of the carriage and escorts her through the palace front doors. Katara was still in disbelief every time she made a trip here. How did a Southern Water tribe girl end up becoming a regular guest at the fire nation palace? “Well, it does help that your boyfriend is the Fire Lord,” she answers her own question. When she entered the front door she was met by a lady with a solemn look on her face.

“My deepest apologies, Lady Katara but Fire Lord Zuko has been called into two emergency meetings by his council and will not be able to greet you until sun down. He sends his personal apologies and has also told me to inform you that he has added a pool and blackout windows to your quarters,” the elderly lady in a palace uniform said.

Katara let out a sigh, but it was one of understanding. The visit had been impromptu, a pit stop of sorts before she headed to the newly founded Republic city. “No worries. Just let him know that I’ll be here, waiting for him,” she replies. The messenger bowed deeply to her, something that she still can’t get used to, and scurried away. Katara was left to her own devices.

Her first visit wasn’t to her new pool, but to the last room on the west wing. She knocked on the door and waited, hoping that the person on the other end was there. The sound of a latch opening and the delicious aroma of Jasmine tea comforted her in a strange way that also makes complete sense. The door finally opened to reveal an old man with kind eyes, smiling at her. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite water bender,” he said while ushering her into his quarters.

“Iroh, I’m one of the only water benders you know,” she replied jokingly.

“Well, you are still my favorite nonetheless,” he responded casually.

Katara laughed at the old man and took her usual seat at his Pai Sho table. He took his and they began to play the ancient game. Iroh won the first match in five moves. Katara, similar to Zuko, wasn’t the best at this game but she didn’t particularly care that she was losing to him. She just enjoyed spending time with him; Zuko’s real father. The next five games last longer than the first but the results are the same. Iroh leaves the table to make what she can only assume as his 30th cup of tea of today and Katara follows to watch the master at work.

“Would you like to learn how to make my famous Jasmine tea?” Iroh asks.

“Yes, that would be great Iroh. Even though I’m new to the whole ‘tea’ world, I know that yours is some of the best there is!” She exclaims.

“Thank you, dear girl,” he replies bashfully and begins the tea making lesson with a long history about tea leaves and their properties. She listened intently, determined to learn the ancient art of tea making. Iroh heated the leafy water using his bending and then with a flick of her wrist, Katara poured the tea into the strainer and placed equal amounts of water into two ornate tea cups. They took their cups back to the table and carefully sipped from the piping hot cups, both eager to taste their joint creation. It had been a while since she had tasted Iroh’s tea so she looked to him with eager eyes for the official comparison.

Iroh closed his eyes in concentration for what seemed like hours until he finally spoke. “This tea is perfect Katara. A little weaker than I prefer, but despite that it’s amazing,”.

Katara smiled in delight. “At least I’m good at one thing Fire Nation related,” she blurted.

She hadn’t meant to say that out loud but it had happened and she wouldn’t lie to Iroh about what it meant either. A small part of her wanted to say it to someone. To work out her feelings about her future with Zuko and how hard or easy it could be. She waited to hear some of Iroh’s famous platitudes about destiny, but to no avail. He just took another long sip of tea and said “Pai Sho master or not, Katara, Zuko loves you just the way you are.”

Love. The word, she’s heard a million times before but it sounds so unfamiliar in this context. Did she love Zuko? Did Zuko love her? What else would keep a relationship a world apart and sustained through letters and weekend visits so strong for two years? What else would cause her to even question leaving her tribe and team Avatar to live in a permanently overheated palace? What else could keep them from losing each other in the vast sea of complications that is their lives?

“I’m in love with him,” she says, once again, her thoughts spilling out of her mouth.

“I would spend every second of every day in this hot as coals palace if it meant that we would be together,”

“And he would spend every second of every day in an ice igloo in the South Pole if it meant that he could be with you,” Iroh speaks on behalf of his absent nephew. It was at that moment the door opened slightly and Saya, her aid, peeked her head through the door. Katara turned to the large window in Iroh’s room and a swarm of butterflies invaded her stomach. It was sundown. “Go to him,” Iroh commanded with a smile on his face. She hugged the old man and sprinted out of his room, leaving a startled Saya in the doorway of General Iroh’s bedroom.

“Care to play a game of Pai Sho?”

Katara was running through the gilded halls of the palace, her wavy hair bouncing behind her. When she finally reached the large and heavy wooden doors of his bedroom, she took a deep breath, bracing herself for the unexpected.

She found him facing a mirror, hands searching through his hair for the pins that attached his crown to his head. “Are you ready to do this,” she asks herself although she already knows the answer. She takes one last deep breath, as though she’s preparing for battle. This is it, she reminds herself before she does the unthinkable.

“Zuko, she whispers,”.

He turns his body to the sound of her voice and when they lock eyes Katara’s heart swells.

“Katara!” He exclaims, making his way over to her and embracing her in a bone crushing hug. They haven’t been this close in months. He was warm; and even though the palace was already too hot and the sun was blazing through the windows, she didn’t want to let him go. He breaks their contact to look at her. It’s like he was getting drunk off of her presence and Katara could say that the same thing was happening to herself. At this moment, nothing else but the two of them existed.

“I love you,” she whispers to him and only him. She searches his golden eyes for a response but there are so many emotions playing on his face. Katara isn’t sure that she’s ever seen his scarred eye open that wide. “Say something!” She wills him in her mind. Instead of words, Zuko pulls her face to his and they meet in a kiss so intense, yet so soft that she feels like she’s floating. His lips are like drugs to her, she keeps seeking them out the moment they’re apart from hers. Her hands are in his hair, knocking the crown off of his head. His sturdy hands are caressing her back while simultaneously keeping them intertwined. Katara regretfully ends their kiss so she could catch her breath.

“Was this your way of telling me you love me back?” Katara asks in between small gasps of air.

“Yes. I was never all that good with words so I thought that I’d show instead of tell,” he said with that same stupid crooked smile that she loved so much. Katara’s mind flashes back to a flustered Zuko attempting to join team Avatar after months of chasing them around the world. The past.

“Well then if you don’t mind I’ll just keep doing the talking then,”

“Sure, why no-“

“Marry me,” an empowered Katara interrupted. “One kiss for yes. Two kisses for Hell Yes,” she finished.

Zuko pulled her close again, letting his body do the talking. “One, three, ten… ” Katara attempted to count, losing track after reaching double digits. “So that’s a Hell Yes times fifty,” she joked when they broke apart once again.

Zuko chuckled. “ That’s a Hell Yes times infinity,”

“Wow,” she responded wistfully, contemplating an eternity with Zuko by her side. A paradise, she decides.

“And people say you’re no good with words,” she says smiling. Zuko brings her back to him for another hug.

“You’re cool,” he comments on her body temperature, “I like it,”.

[myimaginesandrp]

Ben Solo X  Female Reader 

Promt 10: He finds you after coming back to the light

Words: 2,600

 I know it’s under the NSFW list, but I wasn’t feeling the smut. Thanks to everyone who likes my writing! As always this is full of mistakes, please be kind :) I’ve still got requests to get to, please be patient. 

A quiet drip of water escaping from the ceiling flooded the quiet space of your cell. A steady, peaceful sound that was the only thing keeping you sane. One thousand, nine hundred and four drops this morning. Well, maybe it was morning. You had lost all trace of time a long time ago. The cell was cold and damp. The water had seeped through every crevice of your clothes. That is, the ones that weren’t covered with blood. At least they had trapped you in the underground caves instead of feeding you to the sand creatures of the surface world. That would’ve hurt more, at least you hoped. Now you were beginning to think maybe that would’ve been the better way to go.  Every now and again, a gust of wind would travel through your cell, scaring the rat-like creatures that kept you company.  After sitting in the darkness for so long, the scatter of paws was the only motion you felt, a welcomed distraction from the discomfort that filled your body. You reached for your water mug for the third time today. It was still empty. No one had come down in days. Maybe they’d finally fulfilled their threats and left you there to rot.

“I should’ve joined the first order,” you mutter to yourself as you sat up against the wall. The sound of your voice echoed through the caves until it finally faded off in the distance. You were so tired. Physically of course, every movement you made reminded you of the beatings your captors generously and repeatedly bestowed upon you. Mentally, however, you were just as well gone all together. All for a stupid droid. 

The stupid little thing was probably blown up and floating in space while you were sitting here dying. At least you’d won the war. That’s the last thing you’d overheard your captors say anyway. You’d won the war but no one was coming to save you. Maybe they were right. Everyone had more important things to do than to go looking for a rogue resistance pilot. Even if they had been looking for you, the outer rim was the last place they’d think about searching through. Therefore, the lovely cell you found yourself in would likely double as your resting place. Once the rats were done with you, of course. 

The echo of footsteps approaching down the hall interrupted your thoughts. Well look at that, they hadn’t left you to rot after all. Maybe they were back to finish you off. That would be good. At least now you could rest. You fulfilled your mission. The droid got the coordinates; you delivered on your promise. Your eyes fixed on the corridor, waiting to see which one would be the one to finish you off. The red one, you hoped. He would do it quickly.  

The footsteps grew louder and rushed, they were practically running down the path at this point. Through the darkness, you swore you saw a blue glow in the distance. What kind of crazy shit was this? You’d definitely lost it by now. Maybe you were already dying and having visions? No, you were not crazy. With every passing second, the blue glow would grow brighter and closer until you couldn’t stand looking anymore. You shifted your gaze away from the entrance; the light was burning right through your eyes. After not seeing the glow of the sun for months, this was too much for you to bear. The sudden sound of melting metal made you jump. Whoever was behind the gates of your cell was tearing the bars down. You cowered away as the figure slashed away at the metal, a loud hum ringing in your ears with every swing. The pounding continued for a few more seconds before coming to a stop. A quiet hum echoed through the cell and the blue glow disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. You blinked at the ground, spots of light lingering in your sights. You could feel the warmth radiating from the person in front of you even though he was all the way at the other end of the cell. He took a couple of steps forward and you winced in response.

This is it. You thought as you waited for him to strike, but he didn’t move. The air was still heavy with smoke from his rampage, and he just stood there looking in your direction. A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes managed to acclimate to the darkness again. The person standing in front of you, only a shadow of recognition in your mind. It wasn’t any one of your captors, but it couldn’t be the person you were thinking of. No, he’d have killed you by now.  Almost everything about him looked the same. The tall frame, the raven hair but it was longer now, and his chest heaving from using the light saber. It had to be him, because those brown eyes stared at you with the same love and adoration they had so long ago.    

He stepped out of the x wing to blinding sunlight. The last time he'd stepped foot on such an arid place the whole population had been devastated by his rage. He pushed the thought away from his mind and stepped forward into the unknown. It had only been a week since he’d returned to the light. His mother was his last saving grace from the dark side, and the girl Rey had sacrificed herself to end the Sith Lord that haunted his mind. Now with the voices in his head gone he  wanted to move on to a new start, but he couldn't. One last remnant of his past was haunting him now. He had to know she was okay. He knew she was alive, he’d felt it even before he entered the atmosphere. After word had gone that the first order had lost it’s supreme leader, the resistance quickly took over the galaxy, helping everyone rebuild stability into people's lives. That’s when he started looking for her. Finding her turned out to be a challenge. No one in the resistance had seen her for months, and the order had lost track of her shortly after. It wasn't until a small droid was scanned a few days ago that he’d finally gotten a lead. His heart ached as he searched the outer rim in search of her. He’d just about given  up when he sensed a single life form on one of the distant planets. As he searched throughout the endless caves of the panet, a distant sound alerted him of her presence. He could sense her, so close to him. He quickened his steps until he was completely speeding down the corridors of the prison. He ran past empty cells, the stench of death filling the air around him, his grandfather's saber in his hand. He ran and ran until he reached the end of the cave. He slid to a halt only a few paces from the door. His heart dropped at the sight in front of him. She was so beautiful, just as the day he’d last seen her.  It was behind his mask then, and she’d seen him with so much hate in her eyes. Now, she looked so scared, so fragile, and with defeat in her eyes. He could see her, she was sprawled against the wall, injured and cowering from the glow of the saber. Without a warning he began swinging at the bars, needing to destroy anything that kept him from reaching her. Once he finished, he made his way over to her slowly. When she winced, he stopped, frozen with fear.  That was, until he heard her voice again calling out to him. 

“Ben?”  You called out into the darkness. The figure took another step forward before crouching down next to you. “Ben is that you?” 

“Yes” His word was a  quiet, broken whisper in the dark. You reached your hand out to touch his cheek, certain that he’d vanish into thin air. He placed his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Hot tears pooled and streamed down your eyes as emotion took you over. He’d come back to you, he’d come back to the light. His arms wrapped around you gently before his lips were on you. You threw your arms around him and welcomed them, pouring all the love you’d given up on for the past years. He pulled away moving his hands to your waist as he examined you. 

“Can you stand?” You nodded in response, but when you tried, your legs failed you. 

“Easy. I’ve got you” He quickly caught you in his arms and lifted you. “Let's get you home” You held on to him as he snaked through the tunnels not looking back at the horrible place.

Once you reached the surface, you closed your eyes, his hand was on your face, shielding you from the sun. Not long after he placed you inside the ship and you were off, traveling through the stars. His hand never left yours as he piloted you through the galaxy. Finally at rest, you allowed yourself to drift off into a peaceful slumber. Some time later you heard him calling to you.

“We’re here” he said. The quiet hum on the ship came to a stop and you looked around at the jungle around you. A pair of arms lifted you and you met them by wrapping your arms around him once more. As he walked you past several tent stations, you were met with hundreds of curious eyes. A few of them were familiar, comrades you’d thought were gone. Funny bastards, left you behind and never came back. You lifted you hand to flip them off as you passed them. A smug grin was plastered to your face once you met their reaction. You recognized the resistance base once you were met with General Organa herself. Her face was light up with a warm smile as she greeted you.

“Welcome back son. I knew you’d find her”  They exchanged a few words before he nodded and headed towards the medical tent. He placed you gently on a stretcher and the medical droids took over immediately. He sat beside you holding your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. There was so much you needed to tell him, how much you missed him, how proud you were that he’d overcome the darkness, but most of all he needed to know how much you still loved him. You smiled when you realized his facial expression mirrored your own. After all this time, you could still hear him without saying a word.

 Nightfall came around when the medical droids were done with you. You loved the damn things. You finally regained control of your body, your limbs cooperated as you moved them around. He reached for your hand. 

“Y/N '' he called out to you softly “you’ll stay in my quarters tonight” You nodded in response to his offer. Nothing in this galaxy could possibly keep you away from him now. You made your way back through the tents until you reached a large ship in the middle of the encampment. Once inside, he offered you food and you accepted it gratefully. It tasted heavenly in your mouth. You couldn't remember the last time you’d eaten a proper meal. The ship looked a little worn down, but it remained the same as it had before you were separated. He paced around, gathering different things and moving them to new places. 

“I’ve got some clothes here for you” he called out from another room as you ate. “I have a refresher with running water here if-” He stopped mid sentence when he saw you eating. His gaze softened as he took you in and the glow of ship’s lights illuminating your skin. You smiled at him, at the man standing in front of you. He was broken, but all here. You stood from your seat and walked over to him, taking the clothes from his hands. 

“Thank you” you whispered, your gazed timidly faced to the ground. He took your chin in his hand and lifted your face to meet him. “Y/N I-” You pressed a finger to his lips to stop him 

“There’s nothing to explain Ben. You're here, that's all that matters to me” you stood on your toes and pressed your lips to him softly. His arms wrapped around you, welcoming your kiss with more urgency now than before. You deepened the kiss, feeling electricity run through your body with every second that passed. After a moment he pulled away and took your hand in his. 

“Come. Let’s get you cleaned up” You followed him down the corridor until you reached the refresher. A large tub filled with water was waiting for you. He took the clothes from you and placed them on a counter next to the tub. 

“I’ll give you some privacy” he said before he turned to leave. You quickly reached for him, taking a hold of his arm. The last thing you wanted was to be parted from him, no matter how little that was. 

“Ben” you called out to him.

 Stay your words echoed in his mind. His gaze softened at your plea. Who knew how long you’d been held up in that prison, the thought angered him, but it quickly faded as you took his hand in yours. He reached for you and helped you remove your clothes, his hands lingering on your kin, brushing against the cuts you had sprinkled across your body. You did the same to him, taking in every bit of him as his clothing scattered to the floor. His body was covered in scars. Once he was done with your clothes, he picked you up and gently placed you inside the tub. The warmth of the water was soothing against your skin. He stepped in after you and pulled you close to him. You relaxed into his embrace and sighed with content as he began to pour water over your head. He lathered your body, gently massaging your scalp and pouring the warm water over you. His hands traveled all over you, as if trying to memorize every inch that he’d been parted from.

“I missed you” he whispered before kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

 “I missed you too” You smiled. He began to tail kisses down your neck until he reached your shoulder.  With one last kiss he rested his face in the crook of your neck. You missed his touch, the scent of him so close to you. Tears began pooling around your eyes as you felt him sob quietly behind you. The bruises that covered you back were now clear as day and the sight was too much for him. Guilt ate at him, he’d abandoned you for so long. You took his hand and kissed it tenderly. At least you were together again. 

You stayed like that, keeping comfort in each other until he decided you were clean enough.  He stepped out of the tub  to dry himself. You waited for him until he finished. With a new towel in hand, he wrapped it around your body, showering you with kisses again as he picked you up and took you towards the room. The second you relaxed into the mattress, his lips met yours again, this time, they weren’t about to part from you.

The night was filled with heated demonstrations of love towards each other. You both were starved of each other's touch, and you planned on making it up for it. Your bodies connected in ways you’d only dreamed of for a long, long time. Each one pouring all the love they could for the other.

 After what seemed like an instant, the rays of the sun peeked through the curtains of his viewport. The night traveled its course behind you without any of you realizing it. Your face broke into a smile as you reveled in the glow of your lovemaking. You were with him,with your body sprawled over his. His strong hands traced gently circles down your back. Ben. He was back, and he was yours completely. He smiled down at you just as content, having you there in his arms. There was a newfound hope in his eyes. Maybe he could start new again. Just maybe, there was a new life waiting for you both. 

——

Thanks for reading! :) Requests are always open

[ddagent]

you: # I really need to write some red carpet jb me: hell yes please give me that here's the prompt in case you need one I definitely need one (or 50)

So a) this taps in really nice with an idea I’ve been toying with, of Brienne playing Jaime’s role in a reboot, b) shout out to @angel-deux-writes, who needed some fic today, and I hope this fits the bill, c) this is Brienne’s dress, and d) prompt #99!

“Brienne! Brienne, over here!” 

He’d barely stepped foot upon the red carpet at the Crimson Kingdom awards, but already the vultures had turned their attention towards his replacement. Brienne Tarth. Tall, ungainly, a passable actress at best. Yet the photographers clamoured for a shot of her, the lead of Oathkeeper; nominated tonight for the very first time. The fact that Jaime had not been nominated – also for the very first time – was only part of his frustration. All this attention, all this fuss, for a role that was essentially his. 

“Jaime, Jaime, can you spare a moment to talk to us!”

Melara Hetherspoon, one of the gossip reporters for Ice and Fire magazine, thrust both a microphone and a camera in his face. He adjusted the line of his burgundy tuxedo jacket and offered Melara one his charming smiles. As expected, she practically pooled at his feet. 

“So, Jaime,” she said, teeth toying with her pink bottom lip. “Tonight is the first Crimson Kingdom awards you haven’t been nominated for since your very first at sixteen.”

“It is,” he said, with a slight shrug. “The competition grows fiercer every year; just means I have to step up my game.” 

Melara continued to swoon. “Brienne Tarth is nominated for best actress this year for Oathkeeper, a reboot of your first major success, The Dragon King. Brienne’s character shares many similarities with your original role. Any resentment that a reboot of your character is getting such acclaim, especially after your plans for a reboot fell through?”

If there was an award for best forced smile, Jaime certainly would have won it. “No resentment at all. In fact, I wish Brienne Tarth good luck tonight. She’s in a tough category, but hopefully, she’ll come out on top. That is, after all, how she likes it. Lovely to see you, Melara.”

She made to ask another question, but Jaime was already walking away. A few flashes went off in his face; he waved his hand in the direction of a couple of photographers. But his gaze quickly fell back towards Brienne Tarth. She was wearing a dark blue dress that fell across her body; silver stars pinned to her shoulders. Her hair was short, yet she kept fiddling with the blonde strands. Her smile was so innocent; her face completely devoid of guile. Yet Jaime knew her sort. He knew her sort very well. 

When a reboot of The Dragon King had been floated by Jaime, he’d practically bitten the production team’s hand off. Years of working on obscure but award-worthy films had left him with a full mantle but feeling rather drained. He wanted to do something fun again, and he loved the idea of returning to Arthur Westford, the youngest knight ever elevated to the Kingsguard. He’d brainstormed many an idea of a fresh take – of Arthur’s future – until he was told they were going in a different direction. Similar plot: young knight, mentally-ill monarch, intrigue and drama. Only Arthur would now be Alysanne. Only he would be out, and Brienne Tarth would be in. 

"Brienne! Brienne! Just one more!”

She was flagging. Jaime could see the slight crease in her forehead; the falter of her mouth. Amateur. The PR assistant, a redhead who should have been in front of the camera rather than the giant from the Stormlands, noticed it too. She then noticed Jaime. With a speed he had not imagined she would possess, the girl grabbed his arm. 

“Come with me, this will be a great press opportunity!” 

And suddenly Jaime was stood next to Brienne Tarth in front of a television camera, with a microphone thrust at both of them. The journalist grinned at the pair of them, and then into the camera. “Look at this, TV fans: the youngest knights ever sworn into the Kingsguard!” 

Both he and Brienne laughed politely, as if the tension between them wasn’t so thick that not even valyrian steel could cut through it. “Arthur Westford and Alysanne Swann. TV history is being made tonight! Is this the first time you both have met?”

“Yes, it is,” Brienne said, fiddling with her hair again. 

“Not for lack of trying.”

“Oh?” The journalist asked. “Does this mean we might get an Arthur Westford cameo on the show?”

Jaime snorted. “Doubtful. I thought I might have been asked, but I was informed no one else can fit in Ms Tarth’s spotlight.” He turned to her, decorum and public opinion out the window. He was a Lann Award Winner for fuck’s sake. He wouldn’t prop anyone up, least of all her. “I imagine it is hard for anyone else to fit in it.”

Brienne’s facade in front of the cameras faded just as quickly as his. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing? You don’t even know me.”

“Exactly. No one knows who the fuck you are, but you’ve still got enough clout at the network to cut me out of the project.”

“I have no idea—”

“—oh please. This naive little facade might work with studio execs but I’ve been in this business long before you were ever in your first school play, Ms Tarth. I imagine as a tree.”

“Well, I’d rather play a tree than any of the roles you’ve played lately. You looked like you were half asleep in The Blackwater Connection. It’s no wonder the producers didn’t want you to have anything to do with the new show.”

“Yes, because—”

“I wish I hadn’t bothered fighting for you.” Her shoulders dropped. “Arthur was my favourite character; you were...” Brienne trailed off. “But you’re just a huge disappointment."

With the sweep of her dress like a knight’s cloak, Brienne Tarth left to continue her journey down the red carpet. Jaime stood there like the biggest arsehole in all of Westeros. He was now left with two options: either Brienne Tarth was the greatest actress he had ever seen, or she truly had fought for him to be included in the show. 

Either way, he was wrong, and Jaime felt the sudden urge to discover what was right.