#I SWEAR IT BRINGS ME BACK FROM THE BRINK OF THE SLOW DEATH THAT IS LIFE

[all-or-nothing-baby]

every time there's a thunder storm i stumble outside into the driving rain like a spastic baby dear just ripped from its mother's womb and born into the fucking apocalypse

[splitontendo]

BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME

oikawa toru x f!reader

warnings : dark content, implied cheating (reader), (1) face slap, major character death.

wc ; 700

oikawa was fuming- storming out the bar and ignoring your complaints of how hard he was gripping your wrist.

“toru you’re hurting me.”

“get in the fucking car y/n.”

he opened the passenger door for you before shoving you inside, even in anger he was still a gentleman.

“slow down!” you exclaimed when oikawa almost crashed the car, for the fourth time.

his grip on the steering wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white. you swallowed hard and decided to stay quiet the rest of the ride — not here.

you followed oikawa into both your shared apartment, well it was originally yours but within two months of dating him he insisted on letting him stay with you, for your safety. he really did care for you.

oikawa headed to the kitchen space, slamming cupboards doors before pouring himself a drink. he was never able to control his anger when drunk, he could barely do it sober. you knew this.

which is why he was so confused as to why you always pissed him off. why did you always bring the worst out of him? did you like it when he yelled at you? aren’t you scared of him? why are you still with him?

“fuck!” oikawa shouted throwing the short glass cup against the wall.

you rushed into the room and to his side, “toru are you okay?” you grabbed his hands then his face in search for of any injuries. “don’t scare me like that.”

holding his face, you fought the urge to blush. his once puppy dog brown eyes were blown out and his nose flared- he was fucking furious.

“are you cheating on me?”

“what?” you cackled out. “are you serious?” you asked in response to his silence.

“answer my fucking question. how did that guy know your name and why was he all over you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving yours, almost making you nervous.

“i told you, i work with him baby.” you brushed his hair back, continuing to play dumb.

“and that gives him permission to grab on your waist?”

you dropped your eyes to his clenching fists, ignorant to his glance at the knife on the table.

“don’t be like that ‘toru,” you bit your lip nervously after loosing your smile. knowing he’d pick up on it you attempted to kiss him, only for him to push you off him.

“how many times?”

you stared at him dumbfounded, shit.

“sorry, i-it-“

“none of that, give me a fucking number y/n!”

“three, but i swear it didn’t mea-“

he struck you across the face before you were able to finish your sentence.

you looked at him in shock, wiping your face when you felt a cold substance trickling down the side of your mouth.

“i’m sorry, please forgive me toru.” you apologized — you cheated on him, which resulted in this.

proceeded to flirt with the guy in front of him, making him mad which made him take a strike at you.

“i love you.” you pleaded grabbing onto his arm, hoping to get something out of him, anything.

you wanted this, to get him mad. you knew how he got and what would happen. but if his anger and temper didn’t scare you, his silence sure did.

what was he planning in this state of mind, and did he have it in him to act them out?

yes he did.

“i love you too y/n.”

you smiled up at him, maybe you two could work it out. you both fucked up after all.

“that’s the problem, i’m so in love with you i can’t have you thinking you can run off and be with anyone else but me.”

he reached grabbing the kitchen knife off the table. your eyes enlarged as you made a pathetic attempt to beg for your life.

“we can’t risk that my love.” oikawa said before slashing the knife across your throat, deep.

you held your neck looking back at him in panic, he just stared back- he was in the brink of tears.

“there there,” he said holding you close to him as you collapsed onto him. he brushed your hair out of your face, wiping the tears and smudge makeup from under your eyes.

“it’s ok,” he hums softly.

your shut your eyes going in and out of conscious- at least you’re going to die in the arms of someone you loved, and who loved you in return, maybe a bit too much.

“you can rest now my beautiful angel.”

[the-stray-liger]

God, Episode 15 was just BRUTAL, and Guel was put through the wringer on SO MANY LEVELS.

He's still reeling from the loss of his father by his own hands, and is attempting to starve himself, likely both to end his misery, and yet also punish himself with a slow death, only for Olcott to force-feed him. He finally regains his will to live when he realizes his father's company, and by extension his brother, are in jeopardy... only at that point everything goes to hell. He desperately tries to save a little girl who had been trying to kill him up to that point, because she desperately wanted her father to save her, only for her to die in lap as he tried to use a mobile suit to locate a vehicle to rescue the pair of them.

Though, he hasn't fallen back into despair just yet; he still has something to return to, something he's willing to fight for, and Olcott is willing to fake Guel's death for his sake because he empathizes greatly with Guel's resolve to save his family, as well as his failure to save that little girl. The dynamic between the two of them almost immediately brings to mind Banagher Links and Suberoa Zinnerman from Gundam Unicorn, albeit with far fewer punches being traded.

GANBATTE GUEL!

I fucking swear to god this episode ASSASSINATED ME and I can't even rewatch to assimilate because I have a lot of homework to do but here's a few thoughts

I was right to guess this was going to be a Guel centric episode because of the title (it has the same name as the one in Zeta where Kamille fights his dad) but I could've never guessed what it would do to Guel

Jesus CHRIST Guel. Oh my god. The writers hate this man. EVERYTHING happens to him. He started the series as an antagonist and now he's just a marthyr. What breaks my heart is that despite the way his father treated him Guel still mourns him and is so destroyed over the fact that he died that he wants to die??? But it speaks so much of his character that when he saw someone in pain at the brink of death, a child that had come into that bathroom with the intention to kill him, he still jumped into action and ran to save her even if it was in vain. And he even made a grave for her. This kid has his heart in the right place. I fucking love Guel Jeturk

I'm really excited to see where the relationship between Olcott and Guel goes. I wonder if Guel's motivations will change while he's on earth. I wonder if he will find a family on earth? oh this episode was heartbreaking and so intense

I'm glad we finally got to see the situation on earth, the refugees and the children mourning Sophie. Even if Sophie is gone she haunts the narrative and her death is meaningful!

I wish I could write more Im just super stressed with hw dfslsdsdfsd

[vermilionvector]

Digimon Ghost Game EP. 67 (The End?)

This is the end... Or...?

After being lethally impaled by Regulusmon, Gammamon was on the brink of death. His inner world which contained his past experience slowly disintegrated, and he would soon follow.

Back to the real world, before Regulusmon reclaimed his body from the carcass of Siriusmon, the mysterious voice slowed down time by 1000 times to let Hiro have a chance to bring Gammamon back. Hiro did not hesitate and immediately dove into Gammamon's inner world.

Interestingly, he arrived at the same park used in EP. 32 "Who Are You?", where Gammamon had an identity crisis. And as expected and much to Hiro's relief, he found Gammamon who was still intact. They hurriedly flew back to return to the real world. But after exchanging some words, Hiro realized that this "Gammamon" was not actually the one he knew and grew up with because every word he said was not from his usual "baby vocabulary". After confirming with more terms, Hiro was certain that something was wrong and pushed "Gammamon" away, asking him who he really was.

It then revealed itself as Regulusmon who was impersonating Gammamon to prevent Hiro from reaching the real Gammamon as he wanted to reclaim his body and having the real one back would impede that. He then tried to actually killed Hiro but our boy synced with Gammamon, summoned Siriusmon's freaking Cosmo Blade and sliced Regulusmon in half. That's VERY BADASS. The most based thing a human Digimon protag has ever done.

Ignoring Regulusmon's last taunt as his other selves kept devouring the inner world, Hiro finally found the real Gammamon who was slowly losing himself, physically and mentally, not remembering who Hiro was. After a heartful reunion, Hiro successfully brough his little brother back before the world was completely destroyed, and they headed back to face their last battle.

Siriusmon declared that he's gonna go at it alone to settle things with his darker half once and for all. However, his blade was quickly destroyed at the beginning of the fight. While it looked like he couldn't block Regulusmon's attack anymore, he did the unthinkable and reverted back to Gammamon, thus reducing his body size to avoid attacks. He then followed up by using all signature moves from Betel, Kaus, Wezen and Canoweissmon's form before returning to Siriusmon to finish the job, but yet again his weapons were destroyed, and now his hands were totally amputated.

Regulusmon thought he had an upper hand and used Gran Tres to finish the job, but Siriusmon did another unthinkable thing by revealing his own two hands hidden beneath those weapons and puched through the dark blast, dealing a fatal blow to Regulusmon and reverting him to Gulus.

Despite him getting injured, Gulus didn't give up. He still believed he had a shot to devour Siriusmon. But, for the third freaking time this episode, Siriusmon opened his mouth (which is so cursed I tell you what) and spawned all of his lower levels evolution forms' souls which freak the shit out of Gulus and devoured him completely. Seeing Gulus being so scared was both surprising and satisfying.

It's a good way to beat him, really. Gulus's motto has always been "devour or be devoured". So him getting literally devoured was the thing that finally make him concede and our little Gammamon had such a sumg on his face it's so satisfying. He made Gulus swear to several rules to make sure he wouldn't go rogue anymore.

All of them returned to the Digital World and Gammamon forced Gulus to release a cure, thus restoring everything back to normal. Bloomlordmon then allowed them to have an audience with his master, who was revealed to be Quantumon, a Digimon based on quantum technology (which should've been obvious based on the machine design). Her personality reminded me a lot of Jellymon because she could be annoying at times but she was undeniably exuding the last boss vibe.

She started explaining why she sent the Digimons to the human world. She's always been interested in both worlds coexisting but no matter how many time she ran simulations, it all seemed to be impossible. She then came to conclusion that the missing data was about human's emotion, which could be irrational in contrast to Digimon's logical nature. After they gathered data, Blacktailmon would send them back to the Digital World for her to collect and study them. Hiro was first dissatisfied with her method because she treated like everyone was a pawn for her, as if it was a game. (And here we had the reason behind the series' name, at last.) Despite this, everyone was alright with how it turned out as they got to meet each other. But just as everyone was having a nice talk, Gulus suddenly came out, followed by BlackAgumon, BlackGargomon, and BlackGrowlmon.

Turned out that these three were watchers of GulusGammamon, who were ordered by Quantumon to keep an eye on him because they were immune to GRB. Gulus explained that a new threat was coming, the Endbringer. The place he came from, far way in the deep space, was devoured by it, and he planned to raise an army to battle and devour it.

Alarmed by this sudden revelation, they asked Gulus how long it would take for this Endbringer to reach Earth, to which he seriously replied: 2,000 years, in human time. Their reaction was mixed. For the humans, they sighed with reliefe. For the Digimons, however, they were panicking and Quantumon suddenly ordered all Digimons to return to the Digital World, and metioned that two worlds should be separated for now as she hasn't finished researching the data yet.

Hiro, however, asked her to let them be the bridges between both worlds. She informed him of the difficulty which lay ahead, but none falter. As such, she appointed them as leaders of the new country where humans and Digimons coexist and looked forward to the results.

Back in the real world, the Digimons gradually returned to the Digital World. Ginryumon asked Holuto how Gammamon was like before he met Hiro, and Hokuto replied he was being such a bad boy that nobody like him, and it was right to let Hiro raise him.

Fast forward into the future, Hiro and the gang started promoting the country where both kinds could coexist., with Hiro giving presentation, Kiyo doing secretary work and attending conferences (must be an imporant one too considering he had to go to Kenya himself instead of using online meeting) and Ruli composing the new national song. Notice how Pixiemon was also here with Hiro. This must be what he saw when he travelled into the future when they first met. Clockmon was also seen teaching in a Digimon nursery and Mummymon was attending an inspection round among human doctors and nurses. Hokuto and his Terriermon assistant, however, returned to the Digital World to continue his research

Despite these positive trend, however, the Hologram Ghosts still posed a threat to the society, and it's still their job to resolve it. While Hiro was suffering from the flood of emails about things he had to do, Gammamon reminded him they would be together to do it. And they're glad that they had each other as brothers.

I'll be writing my opinions about the series in another time. And trust me: it will be long.

[residentdormouse]

Leave a “Call Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about one character asking for another [be it at the brink of death/in a battlefield/knocking on the front door wounded, feel free to specify.]

(Just so you can have the whole thing and not have to go searching for it)

Glen Bateman and Kojak.

Thank You for the Prompt!!

These Two have my heart, I swear. I think I might end up posting this to AO3 at some point. Expanding 'Supply Run' to be a collection of Glen 'one shots'. For right now, it'll just hang out here.

(Drabble Prompts - Original Post)

A Call in the Dark

Fandom: The Stand

Characters: Glen Bateman, Kojak

Words: 700

Blackened outlines of the trees were barely distinguishable in the darkness. Dying embers in the fire provided just enough illumination to make out the line of bushes and the hardly beaten path into full darkness.

Glen sat up in his sleeping bag and surveyed the area. Nothing out of the ordinary. But not much of the ordinary either. Where had everyone else gone?

“Kojak?”

Out of everyone, he was the one member of their party Glen could count on to be at his side. Nothing against any of his other companions, he actually quite enjoyed their company. Mostly. But the dog had been with him the longest, and he’d like to think they began to have quite a bond. Even with the new additions to their group, the mutt stayed close to his side, never venturing far enough that a few hollers wouldn’t bring him back running. Sure, he hadn’t considered himself a dog person before, never really owned any pets prior, but he’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t like the company the animal provided.

“Kojak!”

Wind rustled through the trees and brought a prickle to his exposed skin. When the sun was out, the breeze brought a refreshing break from the humid air, but now in the dead of night, it had little comfort.

Even less comfort came from the angry barking in the distance.

Full on panic arose from the hurt yelp that followed.

“Goddamnit. Kojak!”

As fast as he could muster, Glen tore out of the sleeping bag, and headed to the path towards the noise. Little thought was given as to what he would do once he got there, and the only interjections to his focus were the various obscenities directed at the glass shards residing in his joints.

Luck, in the form of a large stick blocking his path, was the only factor in Glen having any protection at all, but he was thankful for it when he came across a small clearing. The deep colored coating on the leaves surrounding the dog's motionless figure was unmistakable even with the limited visible. Blood. Only one more step forward was taken before the red began popping up in his peripherals.

Eyes. Glowing crimson in the dark. One pair to his left. Another two on the right. Directly in front of him.

Instinctively, his grip on the walking stick tightened. Five sets of eyes were counted, with more cropping up, before the slow movement from the form on the ground pulled his attention. Yellow fur matted down red with blood flickered in the faint light as Kojak began to stand in place.

“...atta boy…”

But just as quickly as the glimmer of hope arrived, it was dashed away.

Red eyes stared back at him.

With a shake, the sticky substance flew from his coat. And the yellow went with it. All color flooded from the animal in a spray leaving only a white wolf pelt and those damn red eyes.

His eyes.

A deep, ominous snarl was the last thing Glen registered before he bolted up in his sleeping bag once more.

So this is what it felt like to be seen. After avoiding their nightmare man for so long, he knew it was only a matter of time before he could no longer. But knowing and experiencing were distinctly different things, and for once, he did not find any comfort in knowledge.

He did, however, find it in the fuzzy, golden fur that was curled up next to his legs.

Absently, Glen’s hand fell on his head and gave a few soft scratches, both out of love for the animal and his own need for grounding. After a few moments, a puff of breath broke out from the dog. Enough to know that the action was appreciated, but not enough to stir him from his slumber.

“Yeah, you enjoy it.”

And with only the nagging remnants of his dream left to keep him company, he moved to the fire. He may not be able to sleep, but he damn well wasn’t going to be cold to boot. Another log was thrown on the fire as he settled in for another restless night.

[navybrat817]

Perfection

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: You decide to give Bucky a ride when an agent shows your man too much attention. Word Count: Roughly 1,297 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, slight jealousy, possessive behavior, porn with feels, swearing. It’s porn. 18+ Please!!! This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own

No one asked for this. I just wanted the reader to take Bucky for a ride. Enjoy!

You were a rational person. That’s what you told yourself. You were also understanding. That was a good quality. But you weren’t jealous. That wasn’t like you at all.

Until the day it was. You saw green when another agent put their hand on Bucky’s arm. Or was it red? It could have been the entire fucking rainbow, but it did nothing to soothe the sudden beast clawing to come out and play. Who did they think they were to touch him? What gave them the right?

“Ignore them,” you thought as you went back to the task at hand. What were you doing? You couldn’t recall as you kept looking out the corner of your eye. You were sure your side-eye game was strong. 

Bucky, bless him, put distance between himself and the agent. That made you smile to yourself. He didn’t like being touched. Not unless it was you. The agent didn’t get it, obviously, when they tried again. And you swore you saw flames from the glare directed their way.

“Fuck this,” you whispered as you went over. You had half a mind to storm over and show them all the ways you could break their fingers, but you swayed your hips instead. The moment Bucky looked your way, you knew he was done for. It was a siren’s call and he was helpless to your song. The smirk he gave you in return told you all you needed to know.

“So sorry. I need to steal him away,” you said, taking Bucky’s hand in yours as you regarded the agent. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

You ignored the chuckle your soldier let out as you led him into the lounge. “Doll, I thought the death glare was my thing.”

“You’re many things,” you said, turning and pushing him on the couch. “And you’re mine.”

His inhale was sharp.  “Right here?” he asked, already working his pants open and shoving them down. You wondered if he was hard the moment you shoved him down or if it was when you led him away.

“Right here,” you confirmed as you rid yourself of your own pants and underwear. “I’m going to ride you into this couch. Where anyone can hear or see us. I hope they do. They’ll know whose pussy can thaw the Winter Soldier.”

“Jesus fuck,” he whispered, shuddering as he stroked himself. You licked your lips when you saw how red the tip of his magnificent cock was. Any other day you would have dropped to your knees and worshipped him like the god he was, but today was your day of glory.

“Is that what you want?” you asked in a sweet voice, gripping his shoulders as you straddled him. You rolled your hips sensually in his lap, a slow grind to drive him to the brink. You loved submitting to him, but today he would beg for you. “You want me to fuck myself on your cock like I own it?”

Bucky, the Soldat, the Winter Soldier, whined. He whined for you. The sound was desperate, sexy and you knew you’d get off to it later in your dreams. “Fuck me like you own me.”

You kissed him long and deep as you helped guide him into your tight heat. You ignored the small sting of him stretching you. Prepped or not, he was made to be inside you and you were made to take him. That knowledge dulled the brief ache in your core. “Feel how good we are together? How well we fit?” you asked as you lifted your hips and slammed home.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky groaned, his hands running along your hips and thighs. It was like he couldn’t decide where to touch you. You felt the strain, knowing how badly he wanted to drive up and make you scream. But he gave you a task...fuck him like you owned him. And you weren’t one to shy away from an order.

“You know how perfect you are?” you asked, your gaze sharp when his mouth fell open to protest. “Don’t you fucking tell me you aren’t. You’re perfection. You’re mine.”

They were words he said to you many times over. And it occurred to you in that moment he had never on the receiving end. Not even in his younger years did anyone tell him what he deserved to hear. Now it wasn’t about proving a point to a nameless agent. You were going to prove a point to him.

“I’m...Fuck, just like that...I’m yours,” he groaned, the words punched out in a pleasured gasp.

“And I’m yours,” you promised, your body hot as you moved. You rode him like your life depended on it. You craved him like a drug. You could never just have a taste. You always needed more. “I’m the only one who can take your cock like this. I'm the only one who gets you. You’re everything. Mine to fuck. Mine to love.”

The sound he let out was a mix between a whimper and a growl. It was enough to make your impending orgasm bubble to the surface. You kept riding him, keeping it at bay as long as you could. “You need me to come? Need me to drench your cock?”

“Fuck!” he cried, his eyes shining as he looked at you. He gazed at you like you were a burning angel come to both save and corrupt him. That was almost your undoing, but you held on. “Yes. Fuck, yes. Come all over me.”

You fell apart, your peak strong as it hit you. You spasmed as you writhed, sure that the entire compound heard you. Anyone riding Bucky’s dick would have shouted to the heavens, so you weren’t the least bit sorry for your cries. “Bucky,” you whimpered as you felt him swell. 

“Doll, please. I’m…” he couldn’t even continue as you clamped around him.

“Do it, Bucky. Come for me. I need it.”

You knew his climax hit him hard, his eyes wide in amazement as he came inside you. It was like he bared his soul just for you to see. He trusted you to see all of him, to take care of him. You would always protect the man who let you in.

“That's it, Bucky. Fill me up,” you moaned as your body milked his. “I’ve got you.”

Both of you trembled as he gripped the back of your neck, pulling you in for a heart stopping kiss as he finished. It almost triggered another orgasm. Yes, his kisses were that good. “That was...fuck.”

“Did I break your brain?” you teased as you caught your breath, giving him a softer kiss as wrapped his other arm around you.

“You did. All the blood is in my dick now.”

You smiled, gazing at him as you brushed his hair back. There was so much love there. What did you do to deserve it? “I love you.”

“Love you, too, doll,” he swore, looking thoroughly fucked out. You were proud.

“Can you warn us the next time you do that?” Tony suddenly asked from the doorway, making you look over your shoulder. There were others behind him, but you refused to move from Bucky’s lap. “I think you gave that poor agent a heart attack.”

“Maybe they’ll give you a hand,” you said, nodding to the tent in his pants.

Tony, unashamed, looked at his crotch and shrugged. “Worth a shot,” he replied, making you and Bucky both laugh as he pushed through the small crowd.

“Unless you all want to witness round two, I suggest you leave.” 

“Or don’t,” Bucky smirked, taking you by surprise as he maneuvered you onto your back. “I don’t mind the crowd.”

[robinhobiii]

Teddy Bear

Jungkook Fluff

Just assurance for jungoo

He finally came home from practice. To say he was exhausted would be an understatement. He felt like he was on the brink of death with how busy he was. But it didn’t matter since he would cuddle his cute little teddy bear, y/n, his girlfriend of almost 2 years.

He was glad to have her in his chaotic life. It seems as though life slowed down with her and he’s able to catch his breath after those long days and nights. Above all that, she was someone that saw him just a Jeon Jeongguk and not Jungkook of BTS.

Jungkook finally reach his apartment door and unlocked it. He then heard soft hums from the kitchen. A smile immediately appeared on his face. He walked towards the kitchen and sees Y/n adding the finishing touches the steak.

He slowly snuck up on her and hugged her from behind. She flinched slightly not expecting anyone.

“Yah, why do you always do that.” She whined.

“Sorry, it’s cute”

“Yea scaring me must bring you so much joy huh?”

“No, I like how you relax back when you realize it’s me”

She finally turned around to face him and leaned up for a kiss. Jungkook pressed a little harder hoping for more. She quickly pulled away and said “g-go take a shower, you stink.”

“We’ve done worse when I was sweatier.”

Her face immediately turned pink and hot as she tried leave his grip. Jungkook laughed and tried pulling her back in.

“I’m kidding babe, but I’ll shower only if you join.”

“I guess you’ll sleep on the couch if you don’t shower”

His eyes widened and he quickly took off his shirt and made his way to the bathroom.

“Fine you got me.” He yelled from the bathroom.

She snickered quietly as she was plating the table.

. . .

Jungkook came out refreshed. The long shower help loosen up the tensed muscles. He was soon sat at the table waiting for Y/n to bring him the dinner.

She set both plates down and they both dug in.

“Babe, you know I haven’t cooked in a while, how ‘bout I make dinner tomorrow.” Jungkook said with his mouth full.

She grimaced as she remembered him making a total mess when he was preparing for the one year anniversary dinner.

“How about you help me instead of being head chef?”

“You’re still on about that. Babe, I swear I’ve gotten better, haven’t you seen me on In the Soop?!”

“I did but this is my kitchen so my rules.”

He pouts as he continued to stuff his face.

“Fine”

. . .

As the both cuddled again each on the sofa watching some horrible romcom, Jungkook felt underlying guilt bubbling in him. He watched her sweet smile light up during the sappy scenes and he can’t help but think, he’s not doing enough for her. He’s always busy, always on the road, always tried. She’s not receiving what a girlfriend deserve.

“Y/n-ah, I’m sorry”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry we don’t spend time together. I know it must be hard watching all these couples going on all these fun dates and what not. I can’t give you want you want.”

“Babe, I know that we haven’t been able to spend enough time with each these past few months but that doesn’t mean you don’t spend it at all. We still spend time together whether on the phone on those late night calls or together like now. It won’t matter because i know at the end of the day, you’ll come and unwind with me. We problem solve for each other because loving someone is understanding them. This is how our love grows strong.”

That brought tears to his eyes

“Are you crying kook?”

“No. . . My eyes are just sweaty.”

She chuckled as she wiped them away.

“I love you, kook.”

“I love you more, y/nnie”

“So does that mean you’ll let me cook tomorrow?” Jungkook questioned.

“Don’t push your luck, kook.”

[ecrivant]

on intimacy pt. 1 | levi ackerman

(levi ackerman x reader)

as the trauma of soldierhood begins to weigh on you, you turn to levi for comfort.  a quiet exploration of damage and the intimacy shared by two.  read pt. 2 here.

a.n. – stop me if you’ve heard this one before: a fanfic where the reader has a tender encounter with levi in his office.  i think i’m on the brink of discovering a writing trope no one has ever used before!  don’t worry, we explore the incertitude and conflation of platonic and romantic intimacy, i swear i’m different, and i swear this is a character study and not just wish fulfilment.  

touch is the reader’s love language.  

word count: 1.9k

Ferric miasma hangs in the air, low to the earth, a gauzy tulle of dawn fog.  Beneath it, terra inked with sanguine dew.  You stand above your parents’ mangled corpses, still.  Blood roars in your ears, your face pulsates, hyperaware. You hear your eyes dart between your mother’s slack jaw, ripped from the cheek, and your father’s deranged expression, one eye hanging from the socket by a tendinous cord. Freckled complexions washed in red.  Lifeless amputees, limbless, silent, barely even there.  

An immense umbra engulfs you; you have no feeling as you’re lifted into the air, ascending towards an obscure ether, pulled away from the statuesque corpses that lie beneath, overlooking a perverted vignette, figures composed in beguiling agony, a foreground washed in vermilion.  A feverish vise clutches your unmoving form, and soured iron permeates your nostrils as teeth crush your skull—you hear the sickening crunch of bone, the pulping of your brain as it seeps between fractures, but you feel nothing at all.  

You woke with a heave in the dark of the barracks, unclenching your teeth and forcing your jaw apart.  You searched in the dark until eyes find the dawn light.  Everything was still; no one had stirred at your outburst.  Why dream of them now? Your index and middle fingers wrapped around your wrist, feeling rapid palpitations, matched with an inbound throbbing behind your eyes.  You focused on a gouge in the wall opposite and listened to the steady breathing of your teammates, slowing your pulse, grounding yourself.  

An ambient hum hung in the air: the world’s low, ceaseless murmur.  In the white noise, you heard remnants of a familiar melody—something quiet your mother used to sing to you, something formless and only heard in that vague void between wakefulness and sleep.  Knowing it wasn’t there yet still listening intently, you grasped onto the wispy tones, and found yourself lost in nothing, and allowed yourself to fall into a dreamless sleep.  Your mind produced no images, yet you sensed an incoming danger that left you restless.  

You came to with Mikasa gently shaking your shoulder.  Her expectant gaze hung above you.  

“Training starts in ten minutes.”  Said with gentle urgency.  

You were inexplicably struck still, as if the thought of getting out of bed was paralyzing.  You sat up but didn’t move further.

“Don’t wait up.”

You felt a hand in yours as Mikasa kneeled, quietly examining you.  Her concerned eyes would be too much; you kept your gaze in your lap. She ran her thumb over your hand, as if to ask if you were okay.  No response, and her hand slipped out of yours.  She drifted towards the door.  

“I’ll tell Captain Levi.”

—

A lifeless automaton, you eventually found yourself on the field just as everyone began warming up, feeling Levi’s eyes on your face as you wordlessly slipped into the drill.  

“I expect punctuality at all times, not just when you feel like it.”  Like a knife.

Steel eyes, annoyed.  Concerned.  You let the reprimand linger as dull shame settled in your chest.

“Yes, sir.”  You apologized with your gaze.  

—

Your tailbone struck the ground hard, birthing a shockwave that emanated through your spine.  You made no moves to get up.  Your respiration had ceased, and you fought against your sternum for breath. Hands gripped at loose soil, desperate for tangibility.  

Eren began to gloat but cut himself off when you didn’t respond to his outreached hand.  

“Hey, what’s with you?”  He kneeled as he spoke, leveling himself with your gaze.  

You swallowed hard, tasting tears.  Panicked. The thought of death lorded over you, taunting, ready to crush you underfoot.  

“I—I don’t know.”

You were vaguely aware of Eren calling for Mikasa, strong hands lifting you, bodies supporting your dead weight.  The infirmary, hazy voices, ‘trauma,’ disembodied grey eyes, nervous observation. Void, melting away, drifting.  

Your sleep was restless, filled with ravaged bodies, flayed flesh.  As you finally awoke, you watched the glistening sinew creep up the walls, branded into your vision.  Wordless, fearful babbling.

A strong hand pressed into your shoulder, pushing you back onto the mattress.  Levi stood above you, expressionless, eyes roaming over your face. His hand remained until your expression calmed.  The croak of your voice, your uncontrolled panic—you were humiliated.  Eyes looking anywhere but him.

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

He scoffed.

“Stop thinking.”  He let go of your shoulder and held out a glass of water, bringing it to your lips to drink.  A worthless invalid.

He stayed with you for hours.  Neither spoke.  At one point he asked if you wanted him to leave—you admitted you didn’t.  

Your hand rested on the edge of the bed, and he grabbed it without thinking.  In spite of yourself, your face flushed at the contact.  His touch was comfort, an unspoken assurance.  When the nurse came to check on you, his grip stayed firm.  

You were released the next day to a group of concerned teammates.  Levi ordered them to stand down, but the words of your superior were no match for their worry.  Despite insisting you were fine, they treaded lightly, on eggshells.  Eren led you to the dining hall, a plate already prepared and sitting at the table with Mikasa and Armin.  

“Please treat me like I’m normal.”  Spoken with a hollow smile, a slapdash attempt at humor, normalcy.  

Flushed, Armin rushed to insist you were normal; Eren denied any special treatment; Mikasa watched you carefully, as if she were afraid a heavy gaze would break you.  You did feel the weight of her gaze, this time meeting her eyes, and you felt your chest swell.  Her concern cut through you, warming your face.  You tried to calm the rest of your friends down, but things began to escalate when Connie and Sasha joined in, mentioning they were glad you weren’t mentally ‘fucked up,’ to which Jean shushed them.  Glares and overlapping, apologetic rambling overwhelmed you.  You were grateful for their concern but only in doses.

Levi eyed your antics from his seat, recognizing your discomfort.  He crossed the room in long strides, silencing the table with his arrival.

“Can I speak to you in my office?”  His words were deadpan, but his eyes held no malice.  You nodded, grateful he read you, and followed him out of the room.

—

“You’re not to train for the rest of the week.”

You couldn’t suppress your shock, which quickly turns to shame.

“Captain, I’m sorry.  I won’t let my emotions interfere—”

Levi rolled his eyes, cutting you short.  You shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to say.

“It’s not punishment. Believe it or not, I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing.”  Deadpan. You had assumed you would have acclimated to his way of speaking, but it still gave you pause.  You couldn’t help you felt patronized by him.

You stood in front of his desk, looking at his cheeks, his forehead, feigning eye contact.  His gaze bore into you.  

“You’re not a special case. This has happened before.”  Again, that equivocal, Levi-specific dialect. Did he mean to comfort you?  You stayed silent, implicitly encouraging him to explain.  

“It just—it happens when a soldier isn’t,” he paused, breaking eye contact, choosing his words carefully, “hardened.”  

He returned his gaze to you.

“It doesn’t mean you’re weak, brat.  You’re just still sensitive.”

You processed his words.

“How do you become strong?”

His eyebrows raised, fractionally.  He set his jaw, his neutral expression returning.

“I just said this doesn’t mean you’re weak.  You are strong.”

“I mean, how do I avoid more of these episodes?”  You didn’t mean to raise your voice—you despised the desperation that slipped through.

“Just watch more people die.”  He eyed your reaction, taking in your surprise.  

“I don’t mean to be callous: it’s just a matter of exposure.  Each death you see or cause or cannot prevent carves at your insides until you’re… hollow. And you have to let it happen.”

You were silenced, winded by a realization of a reality of unceasing cruelty.  It was something you had always known, but to be faced with it so explicitly? You felt eviscerated.  

“Many die before they reach that point—empathetic and afraid.”  

Your knees threatened to buckle—Levi was quick to rise and support you.  He apologized for going too far.  

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

You insisted it was not his fault.  He only spoke a truth you were simply not ready to face.  Levi led you over to his desk chair and you shakily sat.  He stood before you, unmoving, before walking away, giving you space—moments later, deciding against it, he turned at the heel and returned, kneeling in front of you.  He grabbed your hands, and you felt his breath on your face.  Meeting his gaze, you saw an uncharacteristic softness, iris wavering.  You wondered if he liked speaking to you, holding you.  You wondered what would happen if you placed a chaste kiss on his lips.  Levi’s smell struck you—it was familiar, nostalgic; it reminded you of home.  Of a past, forgotten.  Of the sunshine streaming through your grandmother’s kitchen window, the smell of your father’s tobacco pipe, your mother’s vanilla perfume.  You couldn’t remember the last time you imagined any of them alive, rather than lifeless viscera.  

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, retreating as fast as you had advanced.  It was chaste, demure, and you watched Levi remain motionless, wide-eyed.  Red shame crept up your neck into your face, but you instead focused on his shock—what was the last thing that truly surprised your captain?

Your captain—captain.

Reality set in and your eyes widened in horror.  Impulse driven by an entirely constructed, drunken, nostalgic familiarity.  You felt more faint than you had in days.  It wasn’t even an especially passionate moment, more awkward and quiet and, frankly, underwhelming.  Maybe that was what made a first kiss special: the unique mundanity of it.  You wished you could revel in the indistinctness of the moment—but instead, you fearfully eyed Levi, half-embarrassed, half-angry that you would so blatantly and thoughtlessly overstep that boundary.  You retraced your thoughts: had you ever been captivated by Levi, or were you caught up in the moment of comfort he offered you?  The intimacy of familiarity, amity?  Maybe a bit of both.  

You watched as he finally recovered, defaulting to his normal expression.  He didn’t have a tell, except for the deep red that tinged the tips of his ears.  He pulled away, returning to his standing position and cutting you off before you had the chance to speak.  

“Don’t apologize.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”  He spoke firmly, softly.  Idiosyncratically Levi.

Emboldened by some deep irrationality, you spoke, not shying away from his gaze: “It felt nice, sir.”

He was silent again, short-circuited by your boldness.  You hung, suspended, in the tension of the room.  He eventually confirmed your statement, agreeing.  

“It did.”  Bewildering for the both of you.

You insisted you needed to go back to your room and try to get some sleep, a cumbrous mess of meaning and filler words, and Levi didn’t stop you.  There was no declaration of love, nor did he beg you to stay the night with him.  You stood up and left, and as you shut the door, you looked back and caught a smile break through Levi’s look of consternation.

— 

haha!  part 1 of 2!  i know we’re all horny and want levi to just ravage us, but i honestly think he wouldn’t know what to do with intimacy and physical touch and i will die on this hill if i have to!  anyway, feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated!

[sylvies-chen]

Suggestions - Melendaire

(AO3 link)

// Neil accidentally lets something slip on a drowsy Sunday morning in bed with his girlfriend. Claire, naturally, panics. //

Word count: 2384

Neil Melendez wakes up with Claire Browne in his arms just about every morning.

The feeling still hasn’t gotten old.

Their one-year anniversary is coming around the corner. Just under two weeks away, the surgeon realizes when he does the math in his head. And even after all this time, the feeling of waking up with her head on his shoulder and tucked under his arm has never lost its luster. The rush of excitement and pure affection still rushes through his veins all the same. He’s still groggy as that dawns on him, barely awake enough to move away from the blinding sunlight coming in from the bedroom window. All he does is squint and tilt his head the other way, right into Claire’s brown curls. Getting a face full of hair should bother him, but he’s used to it by now— it only makes him smile.

They don’t need to get up right away today. It’s one of their few days off, which means they’ll spend most of the morning the way they usually do when they get a day off: sleeping in for a while, going a few rounds if they’re in the mood, and then making pancakes for breakfast. It’s a nice routine they’ve gotten into over the past year, one that’s made Neil dread work the next day. He just likes spending time with her too much; likes getting lost in her and her soft brown eyes.

Suddenly, he feels her stirring in his arms and she opens her eyes, waking up slowly with a tired moan. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he replies, sitting up in the bed leaning against the backboard.

“Ugh, I hate early. I want to kill early,” Claire groans. “Do we have to get up?”

“No. It’s our day off, we can sleep in. No surgeries, no difficult patients, no paperwork. None of it.”

“Good,” Claire sighs contentedly, pressing a lazy kiss to his cheek and sitting up to snuggle into him. “I like staying here with you.”

“I like it too,” he admits, smiling. “Hey, what do you say we go running this afternoon?”

“Yeah? You think we’ll be fully awake by then?”

“Definitely,” he affirms. “We can sleep in and then go after lunch. And the only thing I love more than you and my work is beating you at the track.”

“Oh, really funny, Neil,” she quips sarcastically, giggling. “If you win, it’s because you cheat!”

“I prefer to call it being creative,” he protests. “Besides, you’re the one who keeps falling for the old ‘fake an injury’ trick. I’ve done it a hundred times now and you fall for it every time.”

“Well excuse me for trying to be a good girlfriend,” she mumbles teasingly, accepting defeat.

“Don’t worry though, sweetheart. When I beat you this afternoon, it’ll be fair and square,” he comforts teasingly, pressing a kiss to her head. They normally spend their mornings like this too— exchanging quick kisses.

“You’re unbelievable,” Claire giggles. “Always so—“

“Arrogant?” He guesses the end of her sentence, because it’s one of the first things she’d called him when she came to St. Bonaventure’s.

“Self-assured,” she corrects him. “But if you want to say arrogant then I won’t argue with that.” She gives him a teasing smirk, which sends them both into a fit of laughter.

“I want to marry you,” he lets out as he chuckles, before he can really think about it.

Oh crap. Something he hadn’t even expected to say, something lingering underneath the surface of his mind, just slipped out.

Oh crap. Claire’s staring at him with eyes like a deer in headlights.

Oh crap. What the hell did he just say?

It’s not like he doesn’t want to marry her. He definitely does. They’ve been dating for quite some time now, ever since that close call during the earthquake nearly a year ago. But they’d both agreed to take things slowly, especially since it had taken everyone at work a little while to adjust to the idea of him and Claire in a relationship. Dr. Melendez and Dr. Browne, secret lovers. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition, but they’d weathered it together. He loves her and she loves him, that’s all that ever really mattered. Now, they’ve built this life together— a routine of date nights and tender kisses. He’s never felt happier, and his love for her has only grown stronger with time.

So yeah, the thought of marrying her has crossed his mind more than once. Although apparently, it’s crossed his mind more frequently than he’d thought because here he is, blurting out a proposal while tangled up in bed with his girlfriend on a Sunday morning.

“What?” Claire gets out of bed and stands up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest. Suddenly, through Neil’s fault and his fault alone, she’s wide awake and alert.

Neil winces, his nose scrunching up into his eyes. “Nothing. I mean, I didn’t— that’s not...”

“Oh my god,” she lets out, quiet and stunned as she gets up out of the bed and takes the sheet with her, keeping it wrapped around her body. “You just asked me to marry you?!”

“No no no,” he replies frantically, reaching to grab his boxers and yanking them on before standing up to face her. The bed separates them, but her eyes are wild and piercing with shock. He knows he’s just done something monumentally stupid. “That wasn’t a proposal, I swear.”

“Then what the hell was that?”

“It was...” he pauses to rack his brain for something to say to get him out of the corner he’s backed himself into, and he only lands on one thing. “... a suggestion,” he finishes with a shrug.

“A suggestion?” She looks at him skeptically, her arms crossed in front of her.

“Yes,” he confirms hesitantly.

“Ok, that’s it,” she nods curtly. “you’re insane. This— this is insane!”

“Look, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “It was a nice moment, I was happy and still half asleep, and- and it just slipped out. Like it or not, I said it. But if you want to go back and pretend like it didn’t happen then fine, we can do that.”

“Well we can’t go back now, Neil,” she huffs. “I can’t go on pretending you didn’t just say that. I mean— god, I can still hear it in my head even now! We need to talk about it.”

“Ok,” he sighs— a little defeatedly, since he has a gut feeling that this conversation isn’t going anywhere he likes (and his gut has never steered him wrong, being a surgeon has taught him that much). “The floor’s open for discussion, Browne. How do you want to go about this?”

He tries to be as clinical as possible he waits for a response. This whole situation is a little embarrassing, really. In the small amount of time since they’ve woken up in each other’s arms, Neil’s somehow managed to blurt out a proposal to his girlfriend of less than a year and has nearly ruined everything. They’re both standing on opposite sides of the bed, in nothing but their underwear, and Neil swears the tension is thick enough to choke them to death. He can picture his colleagues attempting some hypothetical surgery, can picture calling the time of death of their relationship and marking the cause of death off as asphyxiation on some intangible substance. It’s funny, in some weird and twisted way. He’s beating himself up over where this conversation is heading, but at least Glassman would get a kick out of it.

But then, by some miracle, it doesn’t head that way at all.

Claire exhales quietly, deep in thought. Melendez can see her muscles relaxing, the tension leaving from her shoulders as she sits back down on the bed. She leans in a little, staring shyly at her fingers sunken into the bedsheets. “Well, for starters... I think you should ask me again.”

“What?” His brows furrow as a small smile creeps onto his face. Neil sits down across from her on the bed, delightfully stunned. “Are you being serious?”

“I am,” she replies calmly. Her tone is a hell of a lot calmer than Neil feels right now. He can practically feel the excitement rushing through his veins.

Is she saying what he thinks she’s saying?

Neil hasn’t expected this conversation to come for a long time. They grew into each other’s love in time, but it doesn’t erase the scars they have. Claire’s pain and trauma is actually what made her so scared to admit she loved him in the first place. It’d taken him being on the brink of death for her to admit her feelings. Now, they’ve finally grown more comfortable with their feelings but Neil still knows that taking it slow is the right move. It’s why he was so surprised when that proposal slipped off his tongue. Proposing after nearly a year of dating isn’t exactly moving at a slow pace. He supposes his feelings for her— the overwhelming urge to marry her— overcame all the voices of reason telling him to take it easy for fear of scaring her off.

Now though? Now it’s a whole different story.

He stays quiet for a second too long and the small smile on her face fades, bringing in a nervous glance instead. “I mean, only if you want to ask me,” she adds awkwardly after a moment.

“God yes I do,” he assures her. It sparks a small giggle from Claire, her eyes now sparkling and glossy with what Melendez thinks are tears of joy. “I just... I figured you might want it to be a bit different from this. I don’t even have a ring.”

“Well you know me, I’ve always hated romantics,” she dismisses with a watery chuckle.

He laughs in return and smiles until his cheeks hurt. The space between them on the bed slowly closes as Neil inches forward, dragging the sheets with him and taking her hands in his. “You... you are the single best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he starts. The awe in his own voice surprises him a little, but it’s not unexpected. Spend enough time around Dr. Browne and you’ll get used to incredible. That’s what he’d said around a year ago, and it still rings true now. He’s also said being around her makes him a better surgeon and person, which is also very true. She just makes him better, in everything he does. “I love you more than I thought was possible. So, Dr. Browne...” Claire lets out another watery laugh but her hands start to shake in his, so Neil holds them tighter. “... Will you marry me?”

There’s a moment where everything is quieter than silence. Neil starts hearing ringing in his ears, a throbbing sensation that this could go very wrong. Or, as he suspects (and hopes), it could go very very right. And he knows this is weird— that not-so accidentally proposing to your girlfriend while half-naked on a Sunday morning isn’t exactly the traditional way to ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you— but he just doesn’t care. Neil wants to have a life with her. He wants the whole package, the thing they’ve both been searching for long before finding each other. The life they’d almost given up hope on. And not for the first time since he’s met her, he wants it with Claire Browne.

And the silence is broken, like a dam flooding with a river that ends up only being one word. “Yes,” she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Neil can tell, even without looking in a mirror, that his face lights up at those words. His cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, his body practically aches for her.

A year ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of unprofessional touches or intimate moments. He’d been so scared to cross the line, the point of no return. But now, he’s about to spend the rest of his life with the most talented, kind, incredible woman he’s ever met, and he doesn’t have to be scared. He leans over, meets her in the middle of the bed while on their knees, and kisses her without hesitation.

It’s sweet, the way Claire’s kiss is always a sweet release to him, and beautiful. Admittedly, he feels tears of his own coming on and tastes the salt streaming onto their lips from both of their eyes.

Claire pulls away after a while, laughing and smiling while crying. They’re both blubbering messes at this point, filled with overwhelming tenderness.

“What do we do for a ring?” Neil finally asks after they both compose themselves a little bit.

Claire looks around the room, ruffles around the drawer of the nightstand for something, and then finally pulls out a sharpie. “Here,” she says, pulling the cap off. Melendez watches in shock as Claire scribbles a line all the way around her ring finger, forming the trace of a ring with black ink. “It’s not a permanent solution, but it’ll do.”

Neil laughs giddily. Only Claire Browne would draw an engagement ring on her finger. There’s truly no one like her, and he loves her for it. “It looks beautiful, Dr. Browne,” he teases.

“It’s just until we get something nice. And when we do, it better not be anything big or tacky or expensive. But that’s just my preference. You know— just a suggestion,” she finishes with a smirk.

“Right,” he chuckles. “And I suggest you kiss me now.”

“That can be arranged,” she quips back teasingly, smiling as she leans in with her hands on his bare chest.

Neil smiles into the kiss, his lips pressing against hers. His hands find her hips and pull her in until they’re flush against each other. They crash onto the bed in a frenzy of blankets, Neil settling on top of her gently, and he sees Claire’s beaming smile and the black ink around her ring finger.

It’s the last thing he sees before he moves in to kiss her again. Neil tastes her lips on his, and thinks proposing to her was the best suggestion he ever made.

[settersloveletters]

NO. 1 FAN

• part sixteen; just endurance training

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⤷ y/n will always go out of her way for her family, especially for her 7 year old niece, who happens to be kageyama tobio’s number one fan. what happens when the charming sweetheart, y/n, meets the emotionally null, kageyama tobio? and what happens when those two fall in love at first sight?

a/n: its here.. ENDING is ambiguous. ill leave it up to those big imaginations yall have 🧠 hahaha. IDK IF THIS IS TOO OOC. whatever ill justify it by saying “adult kags is mature and horny and knows what hes dooing hahsjej. also likes to dirty talk im sure of it 🤗🤩😋

[!] under is written smut which is not important to the story, sorta, kinda [!]

➳ word count: 1.5k

➳ warnings: smut, but nothing too crazy; hand job, praise kink (kageyama recieving), cum eating?! is there a proper word for that lool

Wow, he’s really hot. Not that that’s new news, but here he is, in your small living room, freshly showered with damp hair in the comfiest loungewear. After all the commotion -- trying to fix the car only to decide on letting him sleepover, setting up a comfortable sleeping place for him, and of course, not trying to embarrass yourself on countless occasions -- you two now rest.

“Hey, wanna watch something?” you suggest as the two of you sit on the couch, a TV perched on the cabinet across from you. Even though you two sit at least three feet apart, you feel his body heat emanating and he hears your heart beating a mile a minute. It’s weird, you two are usually so normal and casual, able to converse and talk, but why is it so different right now.

“Sure, you can choose.”

“Romcom? Oh, or maybe this documentary. Wait no, I actually like this movie,” indecisively you scroll through the library of movies. “That one,” Kageyama says in such an alluring tone that has your finger slipping, the chosen movie is now beginning.

Minutes in, it might be your mind playing games, but the distance between you has become smaller and smaller, and before you know it your hips are touching. You feel every rise of his chest when he breathes and he feels every time you jump or squirm against him. And to be honest, the movie is getting deathly boring when your eyes would much rather feast upon the man beside you, his toned arms and big hands. You’re almost so tempted to touch them, compare them to your own, interlock both your fingers.

“Are you even watching the movie?” Kageyama scoffs, and when you get a better look at his face, you see the small rosy tinge that covers his cheeks. “Yes, I am. Are you?” leaning into him even further, your body acts before your mind can think. You give him a peck on his cheek. It’s not like you two have never kissed before, but this feels new, fresh, exhilarating.

“I am, for your information. Unlike you, staring at me like you’re the predator and I’m the prey,” he looks you dead in the eyes, deep blue engulfing you. He’s letting you know the nature of the relationship; he is no prey.

Gently grabbing the back of your neck, Kageyama pulls you into a kiss, lips touching and sending pleasurable jolts across your body. The distant movie playing has drowned out in the background as your heavy breathing and heartbeats fill the room. You even let out the tiniest of whimpers that shoot straight down to his cock. His other hand begins to wander, until it settles around the small of your waist, pulling you up onto his lap.

You two spend an eternity, his touch constantly rubbing along your body, your fingers twirling around his hair, and your lips and tongues dancing with each other. With your legs straddling his, you don’t shy away from giving an experimental grind against his clothed erection.

“Hm,” his moan is muffled in your interlocked lips. You pull off, looking him in his eyes, all clouded and gasping for air. There’s something tantalizing about the thought of being the one to seduce Japan’s top young athlete. Seeing the young star in front of you, lips red and swollen from all the kissing and almost begging to be touched. It has you quivering at the knees. This is Kageyama Tobio..

“Ha, I didn’t think you’d.. Baby, let’s take it slow, yeah?” you tell him, slipping the cute pet name in which has him pulling you in closer to him.

“Of course. To be honest, I don’t know how much of you I can handle at once,” he looks down at you, jabbing at your usual boldness and forwardness. You can tell he’s nervous. “I should be saying that to you,” you sigh, hands grabbing onto the formed tent in his sweatpants that has you too excited. He’s big.

“So, why don’t we just touch today,” you give him a reassuring smile, giving his cock another squeeze that has him moaning aloud again. Kageyama just simply looks at you and gives a nod in response. He’s embarrassed at his own voice, but to you, it sounds like heaven. You don’t hesitate in lowering the waistband of his pants and boxers, letting the heat of his cock expose itself. Looking at it has you biting your lower lip and shifting in his lap. You wrap your hands around his girth, feeling heavy in your hands as the thick veins tickle the pads of your fingers. You stroke his shaft, listening to the way he audibly gasps and groans under your ministrations. Your fingertip rubs along the head, picking up the drop of precum, allowing you to give him a more satisfying jerk.

“Do that, that felt good,” he breaths out. You pick up the repetitive motions as you feel the surface of his cock heating up, and the unsuppressed sounds spilling from his mouth. The sweet clicks of your strokes has you desperate for more, desperate to pleasure him more. Boldly, you spit onto the head of cock, slicking him up and quickening the pace. Kageyama lets out a needy noise that has your insides trembling and panties uncomfortably wet.

He likes the attention, you know it. He loves being able to openly receive this love from you, no matter how foreign or new it is to him. This thrill Kageyama feels has him aching for more. His hands grasp onto the legs that sit on his lap, squeezing the soft exposed flesh of your skin. His mind goes wild imagining what lies beneath those tight shorts you purposely wore to seduce him, what you’d look like all exposed just for him. He’s not usually this dirty minded, but you’ve always managed to pull out the craziest things from him.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” you ask with your innocent and calming voice, totally contrasting the lewd hands that continue to rub at his cock.

“I’m thinking about a lot of things..”

“Like what my panties look like?”

You will be the death of him, he swears. Before he can even respond or react, you’re already removing your shorts, showing him the delicate black fabric underneath that leaves oh so little to the imagination. Kageyama is brazen and confident on the court, but in the intimacy of right now, you have to be in control of the game. Straddling him again, you continue where you left off, bringing him closer to his release with your hand, kissing along his jaw and neck. “I won’t leave marks, don’t worry.”

“I don’t mind,” he manages to say through his pants. Without hesitation, you leave the tiniest mark on the side of his neck. The thought of tainting his perfect skin has you moaning against him, only egging him further to completion. His cock twitches in your hands, which has you stroking him faster.

“C’mon baby, you can cum anytime. You’ve been so good to me,” praising him, Kageyama looks directly into your eyes, face gone red, eyes hooded with uncontrollable lust as he groans aloud at your words. He likes it. “You’re so hot, baby. Cock’s so hard just for me,” his breathing gets heavier. “Gonna cum soon? Do it. Be good and cum all o-” He suddenly grabs both your wrists in his hand, stopping you from doing or saying anything else.

“Get on your fucking knees.”

You weren’t expecting that at all, which has you smirking and doing exactly what he says. Getting off his lap, you settle on the ground in front of him. You watch Kageyama intently as he stands right in front of you, cock in his dominant hand. He rubs himself, shallow jerks near the head of his big cock, with his other hand resting itself at the back of your head.

“I’m about to.. Can I?” his gasps get louder as he reaches the brink of climax. You stick your tongue out, a nice distance away from him, willing to accept all the love he has to offer. You admire the way his cock stills, and with a moan that has you throbbing, spurts of his cum land in your mouth. White ropes paint your tongue and face as Kageyama looks down at you, gasping for breath. You swallow his seed, all while never breaking your eye contact.

The movie has been long done, leaving you two alone in the now quiet room. Your thighs rub together, still in need for his touch even though he looks utterly exhausted. “You wanna sleep now, baby?” you simply say as he pulls his pants up, adjusting his now softening cock. Kageyama grabs a small cloth from his bag and begins wiping your face clean.

“No,” he discards the cloth and picks you up bridal style, walking you two to your bedroom. “It’s not that late. And, I still think I have a lot to learn..”

“Don’t you have practice tomorrow morning?”

“This is just endurance training.”

- TAGLIST -

@anhphunnnn | @adamarvv | @asahiswaifu | @fangirling-25-8 | @kei-kui | @lilacshouko | @smol-enbybackup | @gyubit17 | @renee1414 | @denkiwenki | @xanaxdeity | @cuddlesslut | @nikkipea | @lovemesomehwa | @muiyuuuu | @oikawalmart-hq | @mirdy47707 | @lumiriai | @notamazinglizzy | @starwrite-er | @dearkags | @hamsterfan17 | @sugawsites | @anime-simp | @singleandlonely | @levisackerwoman | @cactuski6 | @kingkagss | @gentlechainsaws | @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that | @prettymuchboo | @highlyanxiousintroverted | @anna-pcy21 | @sweetlysugawara | @yqshirov | @kingkags | @marifujioka | @luna-barnes14 | @musekala | @thechaosoflonging | @oikawasphlatass | @tremendousglitterthing | @kathya420 | @daninaninani | @maii-flowers | @akakuzumo | @tycrackculture | @gaychemicalwater | @mariachiii | @kiyoomile | @jaxneedshelp | @xs-hoodie | @preparingtofall |

(taglist continues in the replies!!)

[whumpeeblog]

TW CHILD SLAVERY MENTION OF TORTURE MENTION OF DEATH PAIN WHUMP

“Don’t you touch her.”

S scrambled through the castle halls, K sprinting behind her.

“Come here you little wretch!” He grumbled as he gained on her. Nearly tripping, S rounded the corner into the throne room, where D stood, talking to a neighboring ambassador. In frantic panic, the girl ran to her master.

D’s blue eyes widened as he watched his prisoner throwing herself towards him. Shock struck him when K came trailing behind her.

S ducked behind D, squatting in a fetal position behind his tall legs, afraid to look towards the disaster she knew was on its way.

K slowed to a walk, his sword drawn.

“Come here, girl. I swear when I get my hands on you, your little body will burn with pain.”

D spoke up in order to protect his captive.

“Don’t you touch her.”

D’s deep command stopped K. However, hatred darkened in his eyes as he glared at the figure hiding behind his cousin and friend. He took a step closer, the thump of his boot causing the marred child to flinch in fear.

“K. Don’t. You. Dare. Touch. Her.” D repeated. “Now tell me what’s going on and maybe we can sort this out.” The ambassador beside him watched the scene unfold, the amusement on his face revealing his attempt not to laugh.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and D was accustomed to bringing K’s temper down while protecting S.

“She stole several items from me and it’s time the little thief learn to pay. In Galway, thieves lose their hands at best and their lives at worst,” K snarled.

“Put the sword away and I’ll deal with this.”

K placed the blade back in its sheath, yet the child still cowered in fear. She may have escaped K’s wrath, but now she needed to face the decision of her master.

“S,” Damian stated confidently. S scurried around to face Master D, as she called him, dropping to her knees and lowering her head. She knew she would be punished, but a small bit of relief crashed through her, acknowledging that D was usually much more merciful than K and wouldn’t torture her like K would. If K had caught her, he would have skinned her alive, literally. He’d done it to many others, and knew how to keep them alive as long as possible. He was the executioner, after all. He, as well as D, N, and almost every other prominent being in the small kingdom, knew how to push a victim to the brink of death, putting them in the most agonizing pain possible, yet keeping their heart beating.

“Look at me,” D commanded. S’s gaze reluctantly met his eyes, and she trembled. She searched his face for mercy; for any chance that he might not let K torture her.

She knew the rules. If a slave, prisoner, or other commoner was caught stealing from a lord, prince, or other high placed official, the king had the right to do whatever he pleased. This usually included severe torture and beheading. If a commoner was stolen from, they could take that person prisoner or slave, and do what they wished. If they were feeling generous, they could send the criminal to a local sheriff, and they would be given a “kind” death: hanging.

A chilly waterfall of horror flushed through S’s body as she searched her master’s eyes.

“Are these accusations true?” D asked sternly, concern and dominance hinted in his eyes. The girl’s face lowered as she nodded softly. She lifted her gaze, but was unable to read Damian’s face. “And may I ask as to what you stole and why you did?”

“I- it was just some food and a few weathered blankets, Master.”

“And why did you take these things when I provide you with what you need? Are you planning an escape attempt perhaps?” D interrogated the girl. Just as it wasn’t the first time she had stolen, he wouldn’t be surprised if she were plotting to run... again. She had been tormented mercilessly for many of her attempts, although there were several times he had allowed her to get away with it. S trembled and her eyes pleaded desperately for Damian to believe her.

“No, Master! I swear it wasn’t an escape attempt, Sir! Please! I was just hungry and cold...”

D questioned the child further, but he was already aware exactly why she had done it.

“If you were hungry or cold, you could have come to me or N and we would have provided you with warmth and a meal. You know this, so why didn’t you ask?” D raised an eyebrow and lifted his hand to his chin, almost as if he were deeply pondering the situation.

“I- I was afraid to ask, Master. I feared that if I became too much of a burden to you, you would take my head.” Her eyes lowered to stare at the cold, golden floor she kneeled upon. She trembled even more, one of the first signs of the panic attack she could feel rising into her heart. A tear slipped, and landed on the ground like the first raindrop of a terrifying storm.

“So you thought that by stealing from my executioner, you could get away with it. You didn’t think he would notice. After all, the less you eat, the smaller of a burden you are to me, correct?” D questioned. S nodded, still afraid to meet his eyes. “And even if you were caught, you hoped I would put you out of your misery quickly, rather than make you suffer as K here would.” D pitied the slave. She was just a teenager, and a traumatized one at that. He recognized the need to correct her habit, however.

“Let me have her, D,” K cut in. S glared at him, a cocktail of hatred and horror drowning her tears. D put up a hand to stop K as he lunged forward, fangs bared.

“Now,” D shifted his eyes to the girl between him and K, “It seems we have a problem, don’t we?”

“Yes, Master D.”

“Leave us,” D glanced at K and his ambassador. K growled resentfully, but walked toward the door. The ambassador followed, understanding that the meeting would be over for the next few hours.

It was now between the prisoner and her captor. She knew what she deserved, and she grimaced as visions of her possible punishments overcame her.

“Please have mercy, Master,” she pleaded tearfully, whimpering with tiny gasps. Thirty seconds of silence went by as D stared at S, deep in thought.

“Why were you so afraid to ask?”

S spoke up nasally, still trying to hide her sobs.

“If- if I eat too much you’ll kill me.”

D knew better. She was the spitting image of his deceased sister, and his last plan was to execute the child. Of course, if it came to the point where his only option were the sword, he’d do it, but not for a little nourishment. He still tortured her as needed. She wasn’t his sister after all. He often needed to be reminded that she was a slave, a prisoner of war and ally of the enemy.

D didn’t respond to S’s statement, proving in her mind that her fears would soon come to life. He decided that instead of severely punishing her as he had done many times before, he’d use a harmless fear tactic.

“On your feet.” His sunken tone struck fear and earned a flinch from S. She did as was told, and rose, staring up into his icy glare. “Against the wall.” Once again, S responded submissively, walking to face the wall. D sauntered to his throne, prolonging the process in order to teach a lesson of obedience. He reached for a strand of rope which hung on the wall behind the throne, part of a daunting collection of restraints and weapons.

S’s body jolted as she was forcefully shoved into the gold plated wall. Her arms were yanked behind her back. Her wrists over crossed each other, palms out. The rope brushed against soft skin, leaving a burning trail of red rash as it slithered its way around her wrists.

Fingers sliding over S’s shoulder, D turned her body and guided her forward.

Oh God he’s gonna kill me... no. worse. He’s gonna torture me.

Hyperventilation shook S’s frail body, but instead dragging her to one of the torture chambers, D pushed her towards the opposite side of the throne room. The door on that side led to a stone spiral staircase. These stairs went up to a winding maze of hallways with different suites belonging to each individual royal in the small kingdom. Each suite was like an apartment, and contained its own prison cells for the men’s prisoners. Few ever left the private dungeons. To the surprise of the child, however, D didn’t chain her to a wall in his dungeon. He didn’t beat her to a pulp with the agonizing cracks of a nine stranded whip. A harsh necklace of rope wasn't strung around her neck, nor her tendons cut to allow her to choke to death.

Instead he led her in the opposite direction and down the stairs to the section of the castle that was used as a public hangout. The lower floor was set up with a kitchen, living space, dining hall, music and entertainment room, and had a porch leading outside.

D unsheathed a knife. S only knew this thanks to the familiar metallic scrape of the object leaving its home. A shudder wracked through her, and she expected the worst. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she braced herself, but the pain never came. Instead, D’s knife sliced its way through the rope, and the broken bonds fluttered to the floor.

D walked towards the couch, and picked up a heavy wool blanket. He draped it around his terrified slave. Her body shuddered when the scratchy warm fabric danced on her skin, the only touch she was used to being some form of excruciating torture.

“Sit,” D pointed towards the couch. S timidly waddled over. She was still skeptical that he would hurt her, but D was often merciful to her too. There was no real way of knowing whether he would hurt her or not. When he did, she knew he tried to be lenient, and he only punished her when he felt he had to. Now was one of the times that he may have to, she thought.

Frightened eyes examined every detail of her master making his way about the kitchen at the other side of the room. D heated something in a pot on the stove, occasionally glancing over to assure that his prisoner hadn’t made another escape attempt. The figure huddled in the corner of the couch, afraid to move or make a sound. Even under the shadows of the blanket wrapped over her head and body, dark circles of sleep deprivation made themselves visible.

D walked over to the girl, carrying with him a tray of soup, bread, and water. He set it on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Eat,” he instructed. S didn’t budge. D stared with concern. He cared about her, even if she was his slave. He genuinely didn’t want to hurt her, but she had been his enemy, and a prisoner. Either she was afraid that he poisoned the food, or she was trying to kill herself with starvation.

S cowered away when a steamy spoon of tomato broth met her lips.

“Open.” She did as told, but tears began to fall as she took the liquid in. Whimpers and shivering came with each spoonful.

After several spoonfuls, D seemed to have convinced the child that he hadn’t poisoned her meal. He slowly slid his way up the couch to sit behind her. Drowsiness conquered S’s frail body and she began sleep softly, laying her head across her master’s lap. D combed her brown hair with his fingers, not daring to move. The sedative had finally set in, and he didn’t need to change that.

[buckybarnesthehotshot]

Into The Unknown VI: Sokovia (bucky barnes x f!reader)

series masterlist

series summary: y/n and James are to go on a quest together. Will they return? (fantasy au)

word count:

warnings: swearing, a bit of angst, talks of death, crappy writing, I never proofread anything,

taglist is open

a/n: take a shot everytime the word Sokovia is mentioned in this (there’s a lot of it in this chapter 💀) also reblogging this with tags later

       It didn’t take too long for Sokovia to get in the sights of the pair. After all, the neighboring kingdom wasn’t too far and the ship they were on moved faster than the usual ships. y/n wondered if it had anything to do with the more mechanical elements to the ship.

       “That’s Sokovia?” James questioned as the beautiful plant-filled kingdom of Sokovia came to view; its agriculture seemingly working with the physical structures the Sokovians built on the land. It was as though they’d found the perfect balance between nature and their structures to create the beauty known as Sokovia.

       “Indeed, it is. It’s breathtaking, don’t you think?” y/n questioned, a smile on her face as she leaned ever so slightly on the railing on the deck.

       “Now, I realize why you would want to run away to this place; New York is inferior to this kingdom’s surroundings,” James chuckled, his baby blues shining with excitement as they neared the kingdom.

       “I wouldn’t call New York inferior, though Sokovia is a beautiful place. I’ll just say that New York has its own advantages, and so does Sokovia. We just have different ways of living as opposed to the way Sokovians live their lives,” y/n shrugged.

       “Is that why we’re on the brink of cutting off all political ties with them?” James questioned, a curious expression on his face as y/n chuckled softly in response.

       “You could say that, but that would be half the story. Despite the close relations between Wanda, Pietro, and I, their father isn’t too fond of my brother. It may be the gap between their generations, though I can never be too sure. You can never tell with royals,” y/n explained, earning a nod from James as the ship began to slow down.

        “How are people in Sokovia? Do their morals differ from our own?” James questioned, his curiosity about Sokovia growing with every word that slipped past the girl’s lips.

       “Well, the people here are kind and they enjoy draping themselves in colorful fabric; something you wouldn’t see in New York. In New York, our people tend to turn to more neutral or dark colors, with long sleeves, their boots, and such. In Sokovia, the weather isn’t as brutal as it is in New York, so the people are free to wear anything of their choice,” y/n gave a reminiscent smile, seemingly unable to properly explain the joys she experienced in Sokovia.

       “So, how exactly does this ship dock?” James questioned, his brows furrowing as the kingdom’s port began to come into their view. y/n’s eyes widened, she knew nothing about the inner workings of the ship nor did she know how to do anything besides get on it and walk around.

         “You see, James, I have no idea,” y/n spoke slowly and nervously. James’ eyes widened in panic, “Perhaps we may find something useful in the ship’s control room, though my brother told me not to fiddle with much there.”

         “You should go. I’ll stay here and make sure the ship doesn’t crash into anything—somehow,” James gulped as the ship neared land.

         y/n bolted to the space below the deck of the ship and headed to the ship’s control room; a series of buttons, all of which she didn’t know the purpose of. Did her brother not think to tell her about how the ship worked? Granted, she would have not been able to retain the information.

        Of course, her brother was smarter than to leave them clueless. A piece of yellowed parchment stood out from all the metallic panels around it. y/n made her way towards it, smiling to herself as she read the note; one written by her brother.

       “The red button lowers the anchor. If you don’t see this in time, I really do apologize,” the note read as y/n was quick to get her hands on the button, praying to herself that she’d stopped the ship somewhere near the docks. At this point, she thought to herself whether a self-steering ship was really something she’d prefer over one she knew she had control over.

       Sure, she knew not how to captain a ship, but it couldn’t have been as complicated to figure out as the one her brother left her with. She rushed to the deck, smiling at the sight of the ship anchored right next to the dock of Sokovia.

       “You figured out how to anchor the ship?” James questioned, an amused smile on his face as he began to set up the bridge between the ship and dock.

       “That, I did,” y/n nodded in response as she helped him lift the bridge onto the dock.

        “We aren’t going to be gunned down the moment we step foot on Sokovian land, are we?” James questioned nervously, as y/n furrowed her brows before an idea popped into her head.

        “Of course, not! That would be preposterous,” y/n chuckled, leaning against the railing of the ship as she made her way off the railing, “James, you don’t happen to know a thing or two about how to keep a ship secure, do you?”

       “Perhaps your brother implemented a security measure against that too?” James questioned, his brows furrowing as though he were in deep thought.

       “Even if he did, I wouldn’t have a clue. So far, my knowledge of how the ship works is limited. Lowering the anchor is the only thing I know to do,” y/n chuckled.

       “You claim you have connections here in Sokovia, do you not? Perhaps you could head to the palace while I guard the ship for now,” James smiled sincerely at y/n, who nodded in response.

        “I’ll return as soon as I can,” y/n smiled, making her way off the wooden bridge, the waves shaking it ever so slightly.

        She rushed through the ever so familiar path of Sokovia, her feet moving against the gray-bricked paths of the kingdom as the bright sun illuminated the colorful homes of the Sokovian people. As much as she wanted to stop and stroll the kingdom as she’d done multiple times before, she figured the quicker she could get to the castle, the quicker she’d be able to share the beauty of Sokovia with James; something she wished she could do with everybody.

       To her, New York was too gloomy for her. She wondered about if the New Yorkers would change should they encounter the Sokovians. Would they change their ways for the better? y/n always found that Sokovia had a certain charm to it; almost as though the land was built on a land of magic and optimism.

       “y/n, is that you?” a familiar voice came from behind her. She spun around to face Sam Wilson; the Head of Palace Security of Sokovia. A smile was painted on his face as he didn’t expect to see the h/c-haired girl back in Sokovia after he heard she’d gone back to her home kingdom.

       “Actually, yeah. I was making my way to the palace to visit the twins,” y/n chuckled, earning a nod from Sam.

       “I could take you there. I was on my way back to the palace, anyways,” Sam smiled down at her before asking, “Why are you back so soon?”

       “I’ve been informed of the reason I was called back to the kingdom. My trip back to Sokovia is just somewhat a detour from the path I am to take,” y/n shrugged as Sam’s curiosity grew.

       “May I know what the task is, or do I not have the clearance for that information?” Sam quipped, earning a chuckle from y/n.

        “Well, it’s a matter of security with the kingdoms, but there would be no harm in letting you in on the secret, would there?” y/n quipped before explaining, “I, along with another troop from the kingdom, will be searching for the Eternals’ Gauntlet in an effort to defeating Thanos.”

       “Defeating Thanos? That would be difficult,” Sam chimed in, his mouth agape in shock.

       “Immensely. That’s why the gauntlet could be the key to ridding all the kingdoms of him,” y/n nodded.

        “If you’re searching for something, why are you on Sokovia? Is it in the royal vault?” Sam questioned, his knowledge of the Gauntlet limited to the stories and rumors that have been circulating the kingdoms since the beginning of time. Many believed the gauntlet to be a myth, but one thing was certain; to come for the Gauntlet would be a death wish.

        “No, I just came to say goodbye,” y/n explained, a sad smile on her face. Sam’s eyes widened in realization, knowing the meaning behind y/n’s smile.

        “You don’t think you’re going to survive this trip, don’t you?” Sam questioned, a nervous expression on his face.

        “How could I? There are the dangerous waters surrounding the island, the sea monster lurking in said waters, the thick forest? It’s practically a guaranteed death,” y/n smiled sadly before nodding to herself, “When we arrive at the palace, would you please send a pair of guards to the docks to fetch my travelling companion. Leave one to guard the ship, and one to bring James to the palace, please.”

       “I’ll see to it that it’s done,” Sam nodded as they got through the gates of the palace, now walking through the massive garden owned by the royal family of Sokovia.

       “y/n!” a voice exclaimed as she found herself being tacked into a bush, a pair of slender arms wrapped around her shoulders. After the impact, she opened her eyes to see Wanda there, a bashful smile on her face.

       “Hey, Wanda. I didn’t think you’d be out in the garden,” y/n chuckled, getting up and wiping the dirt and grass off her tunic and trousers.

        “Things in the palace have gotten quiet without you around, so I figured I’d take a stroll outside,” Wanda shrugged, “Well, you’ve returned, so there’s no need for me to be outside again!”

       y/n knew her friend despised leaving the comforts of the palace. Wanda preferred to spend most of her time indoors, away from the scorching sun.

       “Well, I won’t be here long, I just came for a visit,” y/n shrugged, earning a look from Wanda.

       “Don’t tell me you actually plan on staying longer in New York! y/n, of all places, why would you choose to stay in that miserable kingdom!” Wanda huffed, pretending to faint at her own mention of New York.

       “Wanda, first off, it was the kingdom I was born into and I am, for now, second in line for the throne there. And second, trust me, I’d rather spend my time in Sokovia if I had a choice,” y/n chuckled as Wanda’s brows furrowed in concern.

        “Please, don’t tell me Anthony plans to step down from his position as king. You and I both know the crown would weigh heavy on your head as queen,” Wanda chimed in, a worried, but knowing expression on her face.

       “y/n? Queen? We should be worried if that ever happens,” a voice chimed in from behind the pair. Pietro, Wanda’s twin brother, stood there, smiling down at the pair.

       “I’d make a better ruler than you ever would, Pietro,” y/n chuckled, ruffling his gray hair with her fingers, earning a scowl from the prince.

        “Seeing as you already told your people you would never take the crown, there would be no way for us to figure out who the better ruler would be,” Pietro shrugged, earning a chuckle from y/n.

        “Unless, of course, you both marry each other in an attempt to stop father from waging war against New York,” Wanda suggested bashfully as both y/n and Pietro shook their heads.

        “Me? Marry Pietro? That’s unlikely,” y/n chuckled before her face fell as she got ready to drop the news on the twins, “It’s not like I’ll be living much longer, anyways.”

        “y/n, what do you mean?” Wanda questioned, her brows furrowing with concern.

       “I was called back to New York so my brother could send me off on a ship to an island near Asgard in search of—” y/n tried to explain slowly and vaguely, only to be interrupted by Pietro.

       “The Eternals’ Gauntlet,” Pietro whispered softly, his expression hardening at the thought of the Gauntlet itself.

       “Mhm,” y/n hummed lowly in response as confusion grew on Wanda’s face.

       “The Eternals’ Gauntlet? Like the one mother used to tell us about in our younger years? I thought that was a myth,” Wanda’s lips pursed together as she couldn’t find the words to express her feelings.

       “Well, it exists,” Pietro spoke slowly.

       “Why is it that nobody’s come for it yet? Surely, an object so powerful would have many attempt to pursue it,” Wanda’s brows furrowed in confusion.

       “Many have tried. They perished,” y/n chuckled nervously as Wanda’s eyes widened in concern.

       “y/n, why is it that your brother’s sending you to collect the gauntlet?” Pietro questioned, concern also laced in his features.

       “Thanos has been a prominent threat to the kingdoms. My brother fears our troops may not be able to handle the battle that would ensue if he made his way to New York,” y/n explained nervously, earning a nod from Pietro.

       “Can we at least discuss this over a meal?” Wanda chimed in, finally figuring out the reasoning behind y/n’s visit.

       “I’ll meet you in the palace. I just need to wait for my travelling companion, since I had Sam call for him,” y/n explained, earning a nod of understanding from the twins as they headed into the palace to request for the staff to prepare a table for them to talk.

       It didn’t take long for Sam to return with James in tow. The pair seemed to even get along quite swimmingly as they chatted their way into the gates of the palace.

       “What are you doing in the grass?” Sam questioned, raising a brow at y/n as he saw the girl sitting there as though in deep thought.

       “Waiting for you both,” y/n shrugged, pulling herself off the ground and sending James a smile.

       “You could’ve waited inside the palace, you know that, right?” Sam questioned, a chuckle erupting from his throat.

        “Well, I guess I’d rather be in this marvelous garden then indoors,” y/n shrugged as she made her way into the palace, the guards and staff greeting her with a slight nod of their heads. They all knew who she was. After all, when she chose to stay in Sokovia, she frequented the palace because Wanda didn’t want to leave to visit the inn she’d stayed in.

       “She seems rather familiar with her surroundings here,” James commented, earning a chuckle from Sam as he shrugged.

       “An outsider could mistake her for one of the heirs to the Sokovian throne with how often she was in the palace,” Sam explained, earning a nod from James, “I couldn’t blame her, though. Sokovia is far better compared to New York.”

       “As a New Yorker, I’d like to disagree, but from what I’ve seen so far, Sokovia is rather impressive,” James smiled, still taking in his surroundings. The royal palace of Sokovia was grand; so grand, in fact, that the chandeliers on the ceiling made it appear as though the ceiling was dripping with diamonds, which he’d never seen in the palace of New York. Not even the Princess’ bedroom (which he’d only seen once) could compare to how lavish the marble hall they were walking in was.

       “Princess y/n, Princess Wanda and Prince Pietro requested that I escort you to the private dining area,” a staff member, clad in a blue uniform with her hair tied up in an elegant-looking bun, informed them, earning a smile from y/n.

       “Of course. Thank you,” y/n nodded as she followed after the woman, both Sam and James still in tow as they followed her.

       “Travelling companion, huh?” Wanda smirked as y/n, James, and Sam entered the room, the unfamiliar brunette immediately catching Wanda’s interest.

       “Don’t do that,” y/n chuckled as Wanda motioned for them to take a seat at the lavish marble table, plates of steaming food on the plates set up in front of the seat. James stood frozen in his place, unsure with whether or not he should take a seat or just stand by the door.

       “Are you not going to take a seat?” Wanda questioned, turning to face Bucky with her blue eyes studying his expression. Then she turned to y/n who was already settling into the comforts of the plush velvet dining chair, “And are you not going to introduce your travelling companion to us?”

       “James, get over here, you’re a guest too,” y/n insisted, motioning for James to take the seat next to her. He hesitated, only really making his way to the table when Sam gave him a small nudge as he motioned towards the seat too, “James, I’d like you to meet Prince Pietro and Princess Wanda of Sokovia.”

       “Oh, it’s an honor, your highness,” James’ eyes widened as he rushed to take a bow in front of the pair after he was seated.

        “Both of you, please, eat up, we all have a lot to talk about,” Wanda insisted. y/n had no hesitation as she began cutting into the cooked meat she was served on her plate. She found it rather amazing how the kitchen staff managed to pull together a meal within minutes of her arrival to the palace.

       “James, are you not hungry? I could always take your food if you don’t have much of an appetite,” Pietro grinned, practically eyeing the plate of food in front of James.

       “Oh—” James started to tell Pietro he could have the food before he was cut off by Wanda.

       “Pietro, let the man eat,” Wanda rolled her eyes, smacking Pietro’s shoulder before turning to James, “Please, eat. Being stuck on a ship with y/n must have been exhausting.”

       “That was rude,” y/n mumbled under her breath before also turning to face James, “Seriously, though, eat. I believe we left rather early, and I’m assuming you didn’t have much time to eat breakfast either.”

        And with her words, he timidly took the fork as he began to indulge in the food presented in front of him by the Sokovians.

[captain-yeet]

Oops, That Happened (Demetri Volturi x Reader One-Shot)

Request by anonymous; "One shot where the reader is Bellas sister and she goes with her to Italy and when Demetri and Felix show up she mumbles something about Demetri topping her not realizing everyone can hear her."

My friend. This request gave me so much LIFE THANK YOU, I hope I do it justice.

Warnings: Swearing, goofs and s e x u a l  TENSION. A little NSFW, oops. HOO WEE ZOO MAMA, let’s go!

Your sister sure knew how to get herself into the most ridiculous, most insane of situations as of the past few months or so. Seething with rage and a healthy dose of fear, you chased after your little sister Bella as she ran through a crowded Italian street.

If you had your way you never would have let her leave the house with her Cullen friend - and you certainly weren't letting her go to Italy alone for the guy who dumped her and made her spiral into a deep depression. So you left a frantically scrawled note to your father, telling him of what was happening and how you were going after Bella to keep her safe.

The poor man. But you were determined to bring your sister back safe - no vampires were going to get in your way, or so, you hoped.

"Bella!" You cried out, losing your sister in the crowd. Everyone was wearing red cloaks for some reason - not that you cared as to why. You just wanted to find her, get her stupid ex and leave the country.

Finally, you spotted her... running through a fountain?

"Bella what the actual fuck..." you groaned, exasperated. You decided to go around, trying to keep an eye on her as you weaved through the crowd.

Making your way to the opposite side of the fountain, your heart skipped a few beats; you couldn't see her. I swear she was right here! Where did she go!? You thought frantically. I promised Dad I'd protect her. I can't find her. God help me, I can't find her.

A firm grip on your wrist pulled you away from the brink of hyperventilating. Alice lowered her glasses, golden eyes concerned yet focused. "It's okay, I know where she is."

Leading you toward a tower with old medieval style doors, without any difficulty Alice broke the lock of the door. "Come now guys, it's a festival," she said cheerily, letting go of you to lower her headscarf as she entered.

You followed behind her and saw your little sister, safe. Ignoring your surroundings you rushed over to her, taking her face in your hands and scanning her for any sign of injury or pain. "Bella, Bells are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Y/N," she replied quickly, gripping onto something white and pale like her life depended on it.

Your eyes traveled up to the face of the boy who'd caused your sister so much grief and who she was currently clinging to. "You," you snarled, glaring at him.

Edward. Oh, how you grew to despise the copper-haired boy who stole your little sister’s heart. The nights where you’d hear Bella screaming in her sleep, see her sitting on a chair staring blankly out the window, her reckless behaviour... he’d sent her into such a deep depression that you had the following thought on the plane over to Italy; If these Volturi don’t kill him, I sure as hell will find a way.

"Y/N don't -" Bella began but you ignored her, stepping up so you were inches away from Edward's face.

"Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused her? You broke her you selfish son of a bitch!"

Instinctively, you pulled your fist back without thinking to strike him, but a coldness took your wrist and pulled you back. Ready to argue, you turned to who you thought was Alice only to be shocked when it wasn't her, but a rather handsome man with eyes the colour of blood.

And holy shit, he was handsome. They weren't kidding about the whole vampires are so hot they practically blow you away, you thought to yourself feebly, dumbstruck. Blond hair carefully styled yet so soft looking, and a strong jawline and cheekbones that defined his perfectly sculpted face.

"There's no need for violence, my dear," his smooth voice made you shiver involuntarily. You couldn't place his accent but it sounded somewhat British.

"She's a feisty one," said a second voice, "I like her."

He let go of your wrist, and that's when you finally took in what was happening around you. The rage that clouded your senses as soon as you saw Edward made you unaware that not one but two cloaked vampires, both of whom shared the same red eyes, were in your presence and the soft echoing footfalls down the hallway alerted you to a third vampire.

The third, Jane, began leading your group down a hallway and into an elevator. It was crowded and you tried to remain calm, but a certain blond man stood directly behind you and you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.

At one point, your little sister whispered to you. "I'm so sorry I brought you into this Y/N."

"I wish you didn't jump the gun and run after Sparkles here like you did." You gestured to Edward who simply ignored you. A deep chuckle came from the taller Volturi guard, and the blond walked ahead of you to join Jane, the two murmuring to each other.

"... I don't have a response to that," she barely whispered in reply, eyes downcast. Bella's lower lip trembled and you tried to hold back a sigh.

Great, now I've made her cry. Well done, Y/N. "Hey, we’ll be okay, I promise.” You don’t know that. “Well it could be worse I guess," you murmured, speaking to both your sister and honestly yourself. You eyed the blond man who was trailing just ahead of you, behind Jane. "Being led to my probable death by an attractive vampire couldn't be one of the worse ways to go."

Bella looked at you like you'd grown a second head.

You shrugged, leaning into your sister's ear. "Just saying, Blondie up front could bite and or top me any day and I'm sure I'd die happy."

A couple things happened after you confided that thought to Bella. One, she hissed your name in warning but you barely registered that. The second? Said blond man in question quickly looked back at you, made eye contact and winked.

Heat rushed to your face, flooding your cheeks as you stared incredulously. “He could hear that...?” The sound barely escaped your lips. You hadn’t thought much about how heightened a vampire’s senses could be - in fact, you tried not to think about vampires too much in general. Finding out about the supernatural gave you a migraine.

Blondie merely smirked in response, eyes trailing up and down as if to take in your appearance before turning away, leaving you thoroughly flustered.

You were right about the near-death thing. After nearly being drained of life by a gaggle of thirsty vampires, somehow you and Bella made it out alive - with the promise that you were both to be turned into vampires. Of course, Bella agreed, but you? Immortality was terrifying.

 “Shh, Bella, it’s okay.”

 “I think she’s going into shock. Maybe you should slap her?”

 “Alice!”

Sighing, you looked over to Bella, who was currently cuddled up on Edward’s lap, gripping onto him for dear life with a vacant frozen look of horror in her eyes. The Volturi had led in a group of unsuspecting tourists for “lunch” and it affected her. That and the Volturi themselves did just threaten her with imminent death.

You were shaken too but you tried to be brave, for her sake and your own sanity’s sake.

 “Pardon me for interrupting,” a familiar smooth voice interrupted your thoughts. Snapping your head up, you locked eyes with none other than Blondie himself. He paid no mind to the others, addressing just you. “May I have a moment of your time?”

 “Am I in more trouble?” you deadpanned defensively.

 “No. This is more of a... personal matter.” Offering his hand, he gave you a confident, winning smile. “May we speak in private?”

 “Demetri...” Edward growled in warning. Locking eyes with you for a brief moment he shook his head in warning.

If you were in your right state of mind you’d probably have heeded his advice. However, today you were tired in many ways possible and Edward was right at the root of it all.

So, you took Demetri’s hand and let him lead you away from your group.

Ending up in what appeared to be a study of some kind a few halls down, you found yourself distracted by the decor; it was old, you didn’t know your history well enough to determine what era or century all the furniture and art were from. But it fit in with the rest of this Italian castle’s aesthetic and architecture.

 “So, what was that thing you said earlier that involved me?” The question pulled you back to the present and you stared at Blondie - no, Demetri you remembered - incredulously.

You crossed your arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you fibbed, your attempt at a staunch expression laughable.

Closing the distance between the two of you, you felt Demetri’s hands press themselves against your waist, pushing onto you and making you walk backward until you felt something hit your back. A stray book falling to your feet confirmed that it was a bookshelf. He was so close to you that you could see every little detail of his gorgeous face.

 “Don’t play coy with me, love,” his voice was low and sent a jolt of something electric down your spine. “If I remember correctly, you said you wanted me to ‘bite and or top you’, is that correct?”

A shaky breath. “That - that may have been what I said, yeah,” you stammered.

Demetri chuckled quietly, leaning down into the nape of your neck, making you let out a small squeak as he did so. Lips brushing against the skin there, you felt your soul ascend from your body as his tongue swirled almost experimentally in a slow circle. You leaned into him, biting your lip trying to keep a moan back.

If this is how I’m going to die, then dying feels so damn good.

Demetri’s lips moved from your neck to your ear, moving a hand from your waist to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want.”

 “I want more of that,” came your husky response. Hands finding some strength, you pushed very gently against his chest till he pulled away. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, time coming to a halt. Raising a hand carefully, watching his expression for any sign of disgust or discomfort, you placed your hand against his cheek.

To your surprise, he didn’t pull away; he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “You... are confusing to me.” Opening his eyes again, the red had darkened to a dull almost black shade of red. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’ve gone this far already so I might as well not withhold anything.”

He moved the hand that was in your hair to your cheek, mirroring your actions. Instinct taking over your sense of rationality, you kissed him. Gripping your waist tighter, he responded eagerly to your affections, kissing back with an intensity that began to cultivate a certain ache within you.

A low growl sent vibrations down your throat and against your lips, you gasped when Demetri’s hands slid down to the back of your thighs, lifting you up. Locking your legs around his waist, you swore he purred in response to your body’s reaction, moving his lips from yours back to your neck once more. The moans couldn’t be held back anymore and you knew that this only egged him on further.

 “I think I’d like to see more of you,” he commented in between kissing your neck.

 “Feeling’s mutual,” you replied, tangling your hands in his hair.

The kissing ceased, and to your dismay, Demetri set you down. Seeing your appalled expression, he laughed; the sound brought you out of your lust-fueled mind state, as it was unlike any laughter he’d done previously. This laughter was him. No secret intentions or undertones to it. “As much as I’d really enjoy continuing this, I believe your friends are about ready to head off soon.”

Running a hand through your hair, you breathed deeply to try and calm your wired emotions. “So uh, I guess this is it then, huh?”

Demetri raised an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean?” Shaking his head, he caressed your face once more. “If you think I’m the ‘fuck you and leave you’ type dear Y/N, you’d be sorely mistaken.” With a wink, he added, “That would be my friend Felix.”

His crass language took you aback. You didn’t expect him to speak so... normally? You assumed with vampires they’d be all formal and old-school with their way of speaking - and in a way yes, you were right. But right now, Demetri wasn’t speaking as formally as his coven mates did.

 “So, you actually mean it when you say you want to see more of me?” you questioned him. “As much as I enjoyed... that, I’m not a one-night stand girl.”

 “I’m glad to hear it because I don’t intend for this to be a once-only event,” he replied smoothly. You smiled at him as your heart skipped a beat happily. A small smile made it’s way to his face, and he held out his hand once again for you to take. “Come on, I’ll lead you back to the others.”

When you arrived back to the waiting room, Edward and Alice eyed you suspiciously. Oh they know, you sighed internally. Giving Edward a look, you gave him a wee mental note. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. Let’s keep it that way.”

Jaw clenched, he dropped the eye contact to glare at Demetri. “Can we go now?”

Demetri nodded curtly. “Yes, the sun is down now so it’s dark enough for you to take your leave. Gianna will escort you out.” As your group began to follow the human receptionist who trotted over from her desk to lead you away, Demetri called out to you. “I’ll be in touch, Y/N.”

 Out of sight from the watchful eyes of the Cullens and Bella’s surprised stare now boring a hole into the back of your head, you winked at him. “You better be,” you replied with a grin, still running off the adrenaline of your earlier make-out session.

The last thing you saw of Demetri was a wide grin of his own before your group turned away.

As the elevator doors closed, your sister rounded onto you. “Y/N, what was that about?” Bella asked.

You turned to look at your little sister; she was exhausted. Running a hand through her hair affectionately, you gave her a calm smile. “Not quite sure yet, but nothing for you to worry about, kiddo. Let’s go home.”

[ilguna]

Lacuna - Redemption (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

Word Count; 4k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

! Listen, if you want to re-read the chapter that would come before this, it’s chapter twelve !

–

“I don’t know where she went! After he tackled me, I couldn’t get to her! He let her go, Trink!”

“She can’t be far, can she?”

“I looked for her all day yesterday at that beach and only found footprints in the sand.” Lennox sighs, “She’ll be dead soon, anyway. We should just wait it out and focus on that boyfriend of hers.”

“From what I heard, he wasn’t much of a boyfriend in the first place. That’s what she told me.”

Finnick’s face scrunches up, eyebrows drawing together. He carefully stops leaning against the outside wall of the cornucopia, watching where he steps as he begins to retreat back to the trees. 

“It doesn’t really matter. I bet he’s taking out tributes left and right. He might even think to attack us again.”

“By himself?”

“Didn’t stop him the first time. The girl from eleven was basically useless, I’m glad she’s dead. Just one less person to worry about.”

Finnick turns around, ducking behind the nearest tree as he tip-toes through the sticks. Just one snap and they’ll be on his back. Finnick could definitely fight them off, but it’ll be a matter of time before the both of them can do some real damage together. They have years of experience from being illegally trained for the hunger games.

They might be able to fool everyone else into making them think that they have hearts, but they don’t. They don’t care about anyone inside of this arena except for themselves. Their whole purpose is to win and go home to a victor house to provide for their family.

Finnick starts to head to the beach, being sure to keep behind bushes and trees. The cornucopia is fairly close to the trees, but not so much for the beach. A couple of the starting pedestals actually allowed the tributes to have their backs turned towards the beach. Finnick wasn’t one of those people, he was basically backed up against a tree branch.

Once he’s sure enough that they’re not going to hear anything, Finnick begins to walk normally. He’s still sure to avoid the sticks that look like they’ll create a ton of noise, as for the most part, he allows his feet to drag through the leaves. 

Finnick knew that something was up when you hadn’t gone to the beach like you do everyday. It’s always around the same time in the afternoon, and when you get there, you’ll talk to someone. He can normally see the shadow of them in the bushes off to the left of where you sit, but Finnick can never be sure of who it is exactly.

And it’s not like he watches you the entire time either, Finnick spends a good amount of his time inside of the cave. He’ll come out in the morning to collect water, fish and some vines for his nets, but that’s about it. It’s always a small glimpse of you to make sure that you’re alive.

He heard the cannon yesterday, an hour before sunset, but you never showed up in the sky. It was just the guy from District Three that you and him had run into on the first day. And then the person that came after him was the guy from ten, that Finnick would end up killing a few hours after the first cannon.

Finnick had just thought that you were fine, and you were with the other two inside of the cornucopia. He wasn’t actually able to watch a fight go down, so he had to rely on his thoughts and who was in the sky, only. 

Then this morning came around, and he went outside of the waterfall like he does every afternoon to gather his things, and you weren’t there. No spear, no backpack, no footprints in the sand. It was weird to see you break a pattern that you had been keeping up for a while.

But he knew better than to go looking immediately, so he just waited a couple of hours to see if you’d even peek your head around the corner. Of course, you didn’t, and he got impatient, which is why he went up to the cornucopia a few minutes ago. 

He was hoping that he would hear your voice, but what he got was so much worse. Finnick basically got the entire fill of what had happened yesterday, since it was all that Trink and Lennox could talk about for ten minutes. Trink’s worried that you’ll show up out of nowhere, but Lennox is sure that you won’t.

Finnick could only get bits and pieces, clearly they had talked about what had happened already. So that means that they don’t have to recite everything over when they start a new conversation. 

But from what Finnick does understand, is that Lennox was suspicious of you. He didn’t trust you for whatever reason, and so he attacked you when you came back. Lennox briefly mentioned breaking your nose--which he knows definitely--but he’s unsure if he did any actual damage to your ribs or not.

This was all in the context of you not being able to go back for them. Because if the broken nose, and the potentially broken ribs won’t slow you down, then the stab wound to your stomach definitely will. 

Finnick had gotten sick listening to Lennox say how proud he was of it. Unfortunately, this was the part where Finnick got things in great detail. How shocked you had looked, the way you grabbed the knife and got off of him. And Lennox would have been able to finish you off too, until ‘he’ came in.

From what Finnick understood, it was the boy from three that came in to save you. It couldn’t have been the guy from ten, because Finnick obviously killed him later in the day. But still, Finnick can’t wrap his head around why three would bother to save you. If it was because you spared him the first day, it still doesn’t make any sense.

It doesn’t really matter much anymore, he supposes. Either way, the guys from three and ten are dead, and Lennox had stabbed you in the stomach. You’re somewhere out here, near the beach. And this is all under the assumption that you had stopped moving after a while.

Finnick makes it to the sand, creeping as far as he can to see if there are any footprints left in the sand from where you had walked. While he looks, he runs some sand through his fingers, trying to think.

If Finnick were in your shoes, he would find a place to ride it out as much as possible. Someplace that’s hidden clearly, bushes, behind fallen trees…

Finnick moves parallel to the sand, looking for some sign of an unnatural dip in the sand. Or some indication that you were dragging your feet, maybe some blood. It’ll be a bigger hint.

He knows that if it were him, he’d try to get as close to water as possible without actually being inside of it… Because if you can’t get up and move around, then you can definitely drag your body over. 

You would probably do the same.

Finnick moves in deeper, still trying to keep low to the ground. He sticks relatively close to the sand, until it turns into water. Then, he moves out of the way for the bushes and trees that hug the waterline. Each one he comes across, he takes a look inside of.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick whispers, looking over his shoulder to see how far he is from the cornucopia.

It’s far, but that’s not the newfound problem. It looks like Trink and Lennox are leaving again, weapons and supplies in hand. They’re coming out to look for you again. Or they’re just beginning to look for him, he has to move faster.

Finnick reaches a log, and he’s about to dodge it, when he just barely catches the sound of shallow breathing. He allows himself to get himself to look over the log, trident prepared in his hand in case it’s not you. If someone were to jump out from behind the log, then he’d have to act fast.

It takes a second before Finnick trusts himself enough to get up fully. 

And just as he thought, you’re on the other side. Finnick doesn’t get a good enough look at you just yet, since he gets over the log and then ducks down so he can assess you up close, rather than a few feet away.

Taking you in as one whole picture, his stomach twists. It’s like a spike of fear strikes his heart in the second that he sees you. You’re so very clearly on the brink of death, that it might be better to just leave you here, rather than attempt to save you.

He has to at least try.

You’re pale, and sweating profusely. Some of your hair sticks to your forehead, your nose is crooked, and there’s dried blood that runs from your nose, down your lips and just barely ends at your chin. The knife is still sticking out of your stomach--which is the good news--but you’ve lost a ton of blood.

Finnick attaches the trident to his belt, heavy-side facing downwards. He reaches over, and does the same thing with your spear. After that, he stares for a second.

He needs to get you out of here and to the cave. Which is quite possibly going to be the greatest challenge of them all. He’s found you, still alive, but getting you there… he has to stay out of sight of the careers, bring you through the water without getting you too wet, and then get you through the waterfall.

Finnick stands up a little bit, looking through the trees and straight at the cornucopia. It looks like Lennox and Trink are heading to the far left, which is around the place where Eytelle had died to the bears. The trees should be able to conceal him pretty well, but he still has to move fast.

No matter what happens, it’s going to be a challenge. He better not fuck around.

“I’m sorry.” Finnick whispers, pulling your knees up a little bit to slide his arm under them. 

Your face twists in pain, but you don’t make a sound. Finnick then slides his arm under your back, which ultimately folds you in somewhat. For this, you moan, clenching your teeth and turning your head to the side.

In one quick movement, Finnick gets to his feet and readjusts you in his arms. He starts walking towards the waterfall, hoping that this route will be easiest. It’s mostly walking on land, rather than wading through the water. When the waterfall gets louder, he’ll have to take a right, and then get you through the water.

Finnick doesn’t know how deep it is over here, though. He doesn’t know if it’s mostly shallow, or if it’s slippery because of the moss. 

It’s all one big risk.

Every now and then, he’ll spare a look over his shoulder in the direction that Lennox and Trink should be. He’s so worried about them showing up out of nowhere. He’d need a couple of seconds in advance. If they were running at him right now, he’d have to lower you to the ground, and then get the trident free from the belt.

It’ll take a lot more than a couple of seconds, for him to do all of that, actually.

Finnick slips into the water, shuffling his feet, and feeling out in front of him for any sudden drops. He’s sure to pull you a little tighter to his chest, lifting you up as well. His eyes will dart to your face to check up on you, and sometimes his eyes are glued to your chest, making sure that you’re still breathing.

The water reaches Finnick’s hips, but he’s able to see the waterfall. Because of this, he moves a lot faster, feeling the water rise from his pelvis to his stomach, and then higher to his lower ribs. The deeper it gets, the higher Finnick holds you up, even though his arms are trembling from the weight.

Water just barely touches your lower back when Finnick reaches the deepest part. It’s a couple more steps before the ground begins to incline again, which allows Finnick to lower you, and figure out a plan when it comes to getting you inside of the cave. The waterfall’s water is going to do too much damage if it lands on the stab wound.

It’ll also no doubtedly wake you up, and maybe even put you into a little bit of shock. What he wants to do is keep you out. Your body has you unconscious for a reason, and he wants to preserve that. 

He stops in front of the water, taking in a deep breath, lowering your body a little bit. Finnick takes one more glance towards where the careers should be--because the other tributes clearly don’t pose as much of a threat--before he folds you in a little more. Another groan leaves you, and you squirm.

Finnick hunches over your head and stomach, turning his back to the waterfall. Then, he quickly backs in.

It’s a couple of seconds of water, and then he’s gotten through and inside of the cave. Finnick is soaking wet, but it’s worth it. You haven’t woken up necessarily, and he hasn’t done any damage to your body.

Finnick goes ahead and sets you down on his sleeping bag carefully. Then, he begins taking off your shoes. He unlaces them carefully, and sets them off to the side and out of reach of the water that flies inside rather than out. On top of that, he takes off your wet socks and reaches for his dry ones, that he hasn’t used since he got to the cave.

He places his hands behind his head, shaking it a little bit while taking in the entire situation. There’s not much he can do for your nose, besides cleaning up the blood. The only thing he can do is try to clean and bandage the stab wound. Only, he doesn’t have anything to clean or bandage it with. 

“Don’t kill me, please.” your voice is almost absent, eyes not even half-open but you’re looking at Finnick.

“I’m not, I’m going to help you, (Y/n).” Finnick reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

“Leave the knife.” you tilt your head to the side, looking to the water, “I’ll bleed.”

“I know. I have to get a sponsorship first with medicine.”

“Cornucopia has things.” you look at him for a moment, “Box all the way in the back in the middle. There should be a knife underneath it, has everything.”

Finnick nods, “Do you need anything?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes, “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be back soon, okay? I’ll leave your spear right here in case Lennox and Trink come.”

Finnick sets it in your arm span, and he watches as you grab to check where it is. You nod a little, “Thank you.”

“Just don’t die on me.”

You don’t say anything in return. Finnick takes this as a chance to leave, going out the same way that he came in. When he’s through the water, he slicks his wet hair back, keeping an eye off to the right.

He doesn’t go through the land again, instead he swims as fast and as quietly as he can to the sand. To keep quiet, he swims beneath the water, being sure that his feet aren’t kicking the water at the surface. The last thing he’d need is to draw attention to himself.

When he gets to the sand, he takes a moment to check his surroundings. Double-checking as always, because it’s risky as hell to be out here right now. He heard what they said, about wanting to go after him. If they can kill him, they gain another foot towards winning. 

And you’ll end up dying in that cave alone.

Finnick takes off running without a moment of hesitation. One foot in front of the other, as he pushes himself forward. It’s a quick sprint, it won’t last long. He just needs to get into the cornucopia as quickly as he can. As for getting back to the water, there’s a ton of ways he can do it.

The lucky part about the cornucopia, is that the mouth of it is actually facing away from the water. Trink and Lennox won’t be able to see him digging through the boxes like a madman. And they won’t even know that he’s been here, unless he completely fucks shit up.

Which is exactly what he intends to do.

But first, he heads straight to the back, picking up one of the many backpacks on the way. When he unzips it, he can see that there’s already supplies inside, the very basic stuff. Canteens to hold water, iodine to clean it. Some crackers, sunglasses, another sleeping bag is attached to the outside.

Finnick is smart, he doesn’t dump any of it out, and continues to the middle chest. He crouches down, tipping it over a little bit to check and make sure that there is a knife underneath it. And just as you had promised, it’s there. However, when he brings it out--because curiosity has gotten the best of him--he sees the dried blood. Just by judging how dark it is, it’s old. So, Finnick throws it back under in case he needs to make another trip in the future, and he gets to it.

The lid pops off easily, and Finnick takes a moment to breathe it all in. Everything that he could possibly wish for, is inside of here. He reaches in timidly, pulling out a bandage, and then he turns it over in his hand.

“She’ll be fine.”

He begins throwing in the things that he’s sure she’ll need. The medical tape, the single-use bandages, hydrogen peroxide. Finnick even finds a stitch kit, way at the bottom of the tub. Unfortunately, there’s nothing for fevers or painkilling. For that, he’ll have to ask for a sponsor. 

After the trident he got sponsored, he’s not sure if there’s anyone left that could give him something. The trident was surely expensive, Finnick could see it the moment that he held it in his hands for the first time. It was perfectly made, like he had gotten it right from District Four itself.

Finnick zips up the backpack, securing it around his shoulders. He stares at the setup that belongs to Trink and Lennox, trying to think of where to start first.

He throws open every possible lid, and tosses things around and into the grass. As he goes through another medical bin, he realizes just how much bandage there is. In the next trunk he gets into, matches.

A lightbulb goes off in his head, big and bright.

Finnick makes a giant pile of everything flammable that he can get his hands on. The bandages, the gauze and bandaids. The sleeping bags, the extra clothes, backpacks, all the food that will burn. He lights a couple of matches, focusing them on the things that will light easily. 

He waits to make sure that they’ve caught fire, knowing that this will be a perfect picture moment for the Capitol. Just for them, he turns around, back to the fire. Then, he takes off towards where he had headed to save you. This time, he doesn’t wait to make sure that Lennox and Trink are around.

He knows that in a few minutes, they’re going to see the black smoke coming from the cornucopia, and they’re going to go running. Even if they do spot Finnick, they won't want to risk their gear over killing him. Finnick knows he wouldn’t risk it. 

He secures the trident to his belt again, and then slides off the backpack, holding it above his head as he gets back into the water. Everything inside of the backpack needs to stay dry to ensure the best outcome. He knows that the chances of getting it through the waterfall without getting it wet will be feeble, but he has to try.

It’s much quicker getting through the water when you’re not holding onto a body. It cut down the time by a lot, and Finnick’s hunching over the backpack before he knows it.

Inside, he can see that nothing has changed with you. 

Finnick strips free of all his clothing, hanging them up on the green vines that line the very back wall so they can at least drip-dry. He places the trident in arms reach, but moves your spear out of the way entirely. After that, he sits down next to you, and starts digging through the backpack.

He found a single rag while he was going through that medical bin, and from the looks of it, it’s clean. No one had used it before he had grabbed it.

Finnick turns back to look at you. You’re completely knocked out, there’s no way that you’re going to be able to intervene with what he does. You might wake up in the middle of it and make some noise, but that's the best case scenario. Worst is that you make enough noise for both Trink and Lennox to find you guys, and you do something to the knife while he pulls it out.

“Okay, take the knife out, clean it, bandage it.” he can feel his hands shaking, “Take the knife out, clean it, bandage it.”

He reaches over to the knife, grabbing onto the hilt of it tightly, being sure not to jerk his hand at all. He takes in a deep breath, clenches his teeth, and then yanks it out.

The rag is placed over the open wound directly after, it’s neatly folded into a square. Finnick is almost entranced while he watches the white rag turn a bright red as it seeps through the feeble fabric. 

Finnick looks to your face, hoping that you’re still passed out, because it’ll make everything so much easier. But you’re not, you’ve got a big bubble of air in your mouth, and there’s tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. You look like you don’t know what to do with your hands besides form them into a tight fist.

Finnick removes the rag for a moment, trying to get a look at how bad the wound is. It makes a wave of nausea come over him, and he has to cover it up almost immediately after, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead.

“Water?” 

“Yes, of course.” Finnick agrees, applying minimal pressure to the wound as he grabs the small bowl he made out of leaves, and then carefully helps you drink.

When you’re done, he sets it right back to where it was before. You close your eyes, resting your head back onto the sleeping bag, “You got it all?”

“And more, but it won’t last long. You’re bleeding pretty badly, and even if I can stitch it up--”

“Do what you can with what you have. Don’t go back there.”

Finnick smiles a little to himself, since he knows the exact state of that awful place. Most of their stuff is burnt by now, everything that was ever valuable to them, is now gone. They’re going to have to get creative like the rest of you.

He also knows that the second they see him, he’s a deadman. Because there’s not a doubt in his mind, that they know it was him who set their place on fire. 

“I don’t plan on it.” Finnick says, “Just… hang on for me, alright?”

“I won’t go anywhere.” you say.

‘Good,’ Finnick thinks to himself, ‘because I don’t know what I would do without you.’

[darkestwolfx]

Hyperspeed - Re-Review #51

So, Scott’s back! He’s obviously been making the most of that vacation time Virgil mentioned, or maybe sorting out things for Tracy Industries? Who knows, choose what you like, but he’s back in blue!

And it’s another high-speed, runaway train (of sorts). He get all the best jobs, doesn’t he?

And hello to you David Tennant (aka Tycho Reeves, billionaire inventor), thank you for joining us in this great episode of TAG looking very like yourself.

Is anyone else getting 10th Doctor vibes? All we need now are his 3D glasses and the look is complete. Really though, they even put him in blue!

So this is the Hypercar - it’s like the next addition to the monorail or the underground (evolved obviously, the underground is redundant by 2060). It’s even faster than FireFlash apparently. That’s saying something.

Now, let’s meet Gertie Bunson - the next annoying reporter to grace TAG with her presence. Really, let’s just stop writing in reporters hey? That’s an idea right there.

“An excited crowds awaits the arrival of the very first Hypercar, which should be here any minute now! Isn’t that right Tycho?”

“Less than a minute in fact. We’ll be pulling to Nightbridge Station in sixteen seconds. Hmm, that’s two seconds early.”

A whole two seconds? To most people, that would go completely unnoticed. Two minutes on the other hand, that we tend to notice. Two seconds? I’m not a clock watcher.

“Here they come now! This is where Tycho and his guest will be arriving- whoa! Wasn’t it supposed to stop?”

Well, if you hadn’t asked that, Gertie, we might never have guessed that was the intention - you know, always try and cover your mistakes.

And then - in very 10th Doctor fashion - Tycho starts rambling on (like all great scientists apparently do) about the size of bugs. Oh, but, did we mention they’re still speeding up? Oopps.

Time to make that call, I think.

John is clearly taking his turn for vacation time now as Grandma’s at the desk doing a spell of monitor duty. At least it keeps her out of the kitchen!

“If anybody can catch up to you it’s us!”

Yep! Now we get to see them try. Love high speed chases me.

“Boys, sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep with an early morning emergency, but these people need help.”

“Time to fly.”

“And I’ll try to work out what has gone wrong with this amazingly brilliant design!”

Sleepy? Wake up as quick as you like, Scott, but ideally before you pilot One, and ideally before the Hypercar crashes. Gosh, really, what has that boy been doing since ‘Long Haul’?

“Closing in on the Hypertube now. Any luck figuring out what’s gone wrong Brains? Brains?”

“Uh, I think your friend may be a tad... starstruck.”

A tad? Brains is literally frozen starting with blinky eyes.

“I’m your number one fan!”

“Well Brains, if you ever want to meet Tycho in person, we better to figure out how to stop his car.”

And then Brains does the sciency bit with a whole lot of praise thrown in. It’s like the opposite of an episode featuring Langstrom Fischler, no negative vibes here please.

“I’ll be able to rescue you after the hypercar makes a water landing.”

“No!

“Absolutely not! We’re travelling in a vacuum.”

“Hitting the atmosphere at mach eight would be like-”

“-slamming into a brick wall.”

Nice try, Scott, but it seems like you’re on delivery boy duty. I love Brains and Tycho finishing each other’s sentences.

I can’t believe this screenshot is like nowhere over the internet! Seriously Gertie being blown away by Thunderbird One’s landing due to her own stupidity is absolutely class entertainment.

“We’ve been told to evacuate the platform as Thunderbird One lands, but we’re not gonna miss a chance to bring you this thrilling live shot of- whoa! Let’s move back a bit shall we?”

It’s like Ned Cook (TOS) reincarnated. Or maybe he finally married, or had a sister we never knew about.

He looks so happy! Honestly though, I would too if I could have a friend like mini-MAX. I want one.

“If you check your sash, you’ll find a new tool of your own.”

“Thanks Brains, but what does it- Whoa!”

“Meet Mini-MAX.”

“Brains, you always surprise me.”

“Just one question. How do you expect your hypercar to catch up with Tycho’s?

“I don’t expect to catch them. I expect them to catch me.”

“I’ve begun to question the merits of this plan!”

You and me both Tycho. I know Scott lives for a bit of speed and danger but this is a new one. 

“You must go faster Scott!”

“Kinda already knew that Brains.”

Tycho is a smart man. I would have strapped in as well.

“Good job! How did you make it go faster?”

“I’m not exactly sure.”

“I’ll try and figure out what you and Mini-MAX did. It may lead us to the problem.”

Now look at Mini-MAX holding on for dear life!

Good idea Brains! Let’s check in with Tycho and the others in their Hypercar, shall we?

“Bet you didn’t know you’d be getting a demonstration of our Collision Protection System, ey?”

“I feel like a balloon animal.”

Where as I saw this, and instantly my brain went;

It’s the Michelin Man!

No, seriously, it is, and he says hello;

And during these testing times, there’s something for everyone. You can join his lockdown running classes;

Or something steadier and calmer, like his yoga classes;

Feel the zen!

Or there’s even dancing classes!

P.S. Wait until we get to the end of the review, I swear this is where Brains gets his moves from. You’ll see, trust me. (And if you’re new to the Re-Review Series, my brains wonders a lot so... and if you’re not new to it, you should have expected to see this).

Right, back to impending doom;

“Tycho, so nice to finally meet you! Virtually at least.”

“Oh, impressive invention!”

It’s like Brains gets to achieve his dream meeting! That little mechanical hand is never getting washed.

Mini-MAX is great, really, I want one, but I’m with Scott here;

“Uh, guys, sorry to interrupt but uh, imminent doom?”

I called that!

“Right.”

“RAD.”

“Tycho’s design appears to be perfect. So the problem must have been a manufacturing error when the car was built.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. If the throttle is working, one of the plasma plugs must have machined improperly.

“Oh no.”

“Ah, a couple of bad plasma plugs should be pretty easy to fix.”

You obviously weren’t listening to Brains crucial “oh no” there Scott.

“Fixing them is the easy part, but reaching them is next to impossible.”

“The plasma plug assembly can only be accessed from outside the car. Specifically, underneath it.”

“Got ya.”

I love Mini-MAX clipping Scott to the train. I would trust Mini-MAX over my own self any day.

“Looks like a fun place to hang out.”

What is it with Scott and ‘hanging’ out? This does not look like my idea of fun, thank you very much. I would like to keep myself upright, and maybe in one of those comfy seats feeling like a balloon animal. That sounds appealing whilst the world falls apart... if you need me, I’ll be waiting out with the collision protection system and the Michelin Man.

Joke, I’ll be here working and writing the Re-Reviews! I would now like a balloon animal though...

“Dropping even a single bolt would be catastrophic!”

“I don’t think that’s going to be hard to remember Brains!”

At least we’ve graduated from ‘Runaway’ where Brains insisted Scott take notes. That would be a little impossible here, after all. The notepad would be blown away!

Borrowed just a few of Virgil’s power tools there, did you Scott? Best return them all in once piece or he might ruin your portrait too. I know he got Tycho’s from the control station, but I couldn’t resist the chance to reference ‘Inferno’ here. Whist we’re on the note of references, here’s another ’Brink of Death’ (TOS) situation.

I love our contest winners;

“That was Grandpa. He loves to go fast.”

“I do!”

“And you don’t?”

“Honestly, we’re just lucky I have thrown up yet.”

I’m with Tycho this time. Oh seems appropriate. I love that we’re breaking stereotypes here (something TAG have done pretty well at in general). You don’t have to be young to love a bit of speed.

“I probably want to replace these one at a time then huh?”

“Yes, and very carefully.”

Oh, uh, what were you saying about remembering? First the drill nearly went down and then- wait, down goes the plasma plug!

“Nice catch!”

Mini-MAX to the rescue.

“One more twist and we’ll finally be able to slow- down!”

Or not. You just had to say it.

I think Brains should have got on the phone to EOS - she knows all about hacking high-speed methods of transportation.

“Why would the speed increase at random like that! If the controls aren’t making the car go faster, then the only way it could be accelerating is... oh no! Tycho, one of your formulas has a small error.”

“Impossible! My calculations were perfect.”

“I thought so too.”

“No! That should be metres per second squared! Oh how could I be so foolish!”

“Even genius’ make mistakes.”

There goes that Scott Tracy trait of forgiveness and acceptance again. I do love it when they show moments like this. Of all the brothers, Scott is the best at staying calm and talking to people, reassuring them that things aren’t always black and white. These scenes were always building towards something, and we’re going to see the real test in the next episode. To do a job like this you have to be selfless, but Scott is almost self-sacrificing (well, the whole family is in a sense), but remember with Kat, for example, Scott had no reason to stay, but he did. It’s just him, and this is an excellent follow through.

“Yes, but my mistake is going to destroy us all! There’s no way for us to stop.”

“Let’s just take a breath and slow down so we can think this through.”

“Slow down...”

“Yeah, that’s the idea.”

“No, slow down! We don’t have to stop the car we just need to be in a slower vehicle that won’t vaporize when it’s hits the atmosphere! Oh, you’re a genius! Right the vehicle will need to be fast enough to reach us with enough thrust to slow down in time.”

“Brains, we need Thunderbird Four inside the Hypertube ASAP. And put it in there backwards.”

The man with a plan is on a roll again!

Cut back to Gertie Bunson reporting again, and a nice little reconstruction on Thunderbird Four’s traditional launch sequence, because Thunderbird Four has arrived! A submersible out of water.

And now we go from Scott Photo Central to squid screen time!

“Um, are we sure this is a good idea?”

Maybe not Gordon, but let’s launch before anyone answers you.

“Bad idea!”

And then you can answer yourself! Great times.

“You’re losing speed, Gordon!”

“Don’t worry, Brains. If I can see it, I can catch it.”

You know, I am jealous of how good an aim every member of this family has. I am rubbish at catch.

“Welcome aboard.”

Gordon steadying Scott is like brilliant. We need more moments of these two for sure.

“It’s working. We’re slowing down.”

“But will it be enough?”

And there go the hypercars... exploding.

“Virgil, they’re loading into Thunderbird Four, get ready to show them a way out.”

“FAB.”

And because you’ve got to get a daily dose of Virgil in there;

“Let’s hope you guys make a slower, gentler exit.”

“Hey, I’m nothing if not gentle! Brace for impact!”

We’ll ignore the oxymoron there.

“We made it! We didn’t burn up!”

Yeah, just give away to the poor civilians that you weren’t expecting to survive, Gordon. That’s really reassuring.

“Did you guys have a plan for how to land this thing?”

It’s Gordon and Virgil, Scott. There’s always a plan. Even if it’s a little improvised or thrown together at the last minute.

“Um, kinda.”

Just another mid-air catch of Thunderbird Four, nothing special to see here, folks.

Who am I kidding? Bring in the applause! We’ve seen this move in ‘Extraction’ and ‘Clean Sweep’ and Virgil never gets it wrong. Takes talent.

“Everyone ok?”

“Can we do that again!”

“No thanks.”

Yeah, I’m with Tycho again. Just watching it made my head spin.

“Big thanks to International Rescue for saving our lives.”

“And for the thrill of a lifetime.”

Nice to get a thank you in there for once.

More high fives! Is there a gif set of the TAG high fives yet? Keep them coming I like them. Nice happy moments, high fives. Brains has basically just got his dream come true!

Of this I have no wordable description, and it looks like Grandma doesn’t either.

Do you see?

Look at Mini-MAX! He’s like a robot version of a dog. I really want one, and I’m sad we never see him again! Bye Mini-MAX!

“I did - finally - get you to London.”

“Thanks, but um... how are we getting back to Tokyo?”

“Oh... yes, uh... Scott?”

Yeah, just turn to our ideas man. He’ll always come up with something. It’s a little like TOS ‘Cry Wolf’ here, where Scott lets Tony and Bob ride in Thunderbird One. He’s a crowd pleaser, this one.

“Want to go for a ride?”

“Wow!”

“Oh um, that would be great I guess.”

“Now, tell me about those engines.”

That smile of Tycho’s as they walk to Thunderbird One - goodness I love how much is contained in that single expression.

Oh, but don’t forget Gertie! Desperately trying to get her scoop - very Ned Cook. Maybe she’s his daughter? I don’t think I entertained that possibility earlier...

“Scott Tracy, any chance we can get a quick interview?”

*Engines start... deliberately*

“You know what? Nevermind. Another time. Maybe.”

What gave it away that he didn’t want to talk to you?

This ending scene is one of my favourite, little sweet moments. After an epic rescue like that, this was needed.

Well, let’s look to Monday for the final episode of Series 2! I can’t believe we’ve already made it this far. We can tell something is coming though - the end credit music had a slight variant to it. The musical score in this series really was on point.

[dearlazerbunny]

Not So Bad After All

Pairings: Takashi Morinozuka x Reader

Genre/Ratings: G; descriptions of a panic attack

Words: 2200

Summary: Requested by anonymous; who wanted secret-boyfriend-Mori to come to the rescue during a panic attack (and Tamaki’s reaction at discovering the secret couple). There’s dancing, y’all, that’s all I’m gonna say. 

“Okay,” you murmur to yourself, low enough so that the hordes of people around you won’t hear. “This isn’t so bad, right?” You glance around at the students darting between booths of cotton candy and carnival games, laughing as they pull friends by the hand through the crowd to their next big adventure. It smells of popcorn and sugar, and brightly-colored stuffed animals sway in the spring breeze and catch your gaze. It’s a chaotic but cheerful scene, and despite your hesitation the atmosphere does tug at something light in your chest. “I’ll just find the boys, say hello, then look for quietest corner to hide in…”

Easier said than done. The receiving line to see the club- they’re holding court in the center of the fair, surrounded by twinkling lights and lush landscaping- is miles long, with dozens of girls clamoring for a spot in line closer to their idols. Luckily, you catch Haruhi’s eye and she smiles and waves you over to a little side area that doesn’t have any foot traffic. She nudges Tamaki and says something in his ear, then leads a few others over to you while the ever-popular king keeps the rest of the crowd occupied.

“Hey Y/N!” She waves, her smile bright. “We thought you weren’t gonna make it!”

“Y/N-chaaaaaaan!” Honey’s small self elbows through the throng and tackles you in an enthusiastic hug, making you laugh and ruffle his hair. “I’m so glad you’re here! Did you see the cotton candy? It’s shaped like flowers!”

“Hi, Honey,” you giggle. “Yes, I saw the fairy floss, and it looks bigger than your head.”

He grins. “That’s the best part!”

“You’ll get sick, Mitsukuni.” Mori taps his cousin on the head, then lifts him onto his shoulders. “Remember what happened last time?”

“Um…. No?”

You snort. “How convincing. Do I want to know?”

“Noooooo, nope, no you do not.” Haruhi is adamantly making the abort mission signal. “So, what are you going to do first?”

“Mmmm, not sure. Maybe the bumper cars? As long as it isn’t the Ferris wheel I’ll be fine,” you joke. You are really not a fan of heights.

“Haruhiiiiiiiiiii? Where is Haruhi? Is she lost?!”

Said girl in question rolls her eyes at you dramatically. “Senpai calls. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

“HARUHIIIIIIIIII-”

“Calm down, Tamaki, I’m coming!”

You have to smother your giggles with a hand over your mouth as you watch an exasperated a Haruhi storm back over to the group. “She’s got him bent around her little finger, doesn’t she?”

“Thoroughly.” Mori turns his attention back to you, and you can’t help but take in how handsome he looks with the lights glinting in his eyes and the rare chance to see him out of uniform.

“Hi,” you say shyly, reaching up in your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Busy night?” He makes an obviously unhappy noise of agreement. “I’ll wander around a bit and meet back up with you at the end, then? Don’t eat too much candy,” you gently rebuke Honey, pinching his toes. He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

The pair eventually get back to their hosting- though not before Mori returns your kiss- and you watch them go a bit sadly. Mori loves his friends and likes his hobby, even if it does take time away from you. Winding through a busy carnival does sound romantic after all- he’d probably win every prize in the booth for you if you wanted. The thought makes you smile.

“Y/N! Hey!” You turn and just as your classmate Ann makes her way towards you. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” You give her a wave. “Just killing time. You?”

“Well, I was trying to get Hikaru’s attention, but considering I’m still here alone you can see how well that’s going…” she sighs, annoyed. Ann’s been hooked on the twin for months now, and it’s times like this you’re glad nobody knows about you and Mori because you just know she’d try and use you for an in with him. “Anyways. You here with anyone? Wanna be fair buddies?”

“Ummm…” it wouldn’t be your first choice, but Ann is harmless most of the time… “sure, why not?”

“Cool!” She gives you a wide smile. “I know exactly what I want to do- the Ferris wheel! Come on!”

Your eyes widen as she grabs your arm. “Oh, no, um, I’m probably just going to stick to the games-”

“Oh come on, Y/N, don’t kill the mood. It’ll be fun!” You squeak as she yanks you towards the ride, unable to get yourself out from her grip.

Despite every excuse you can think of- why don’t I just wait for you here? I can go get us some food! I heard Hikaru was hanging out by the ski ball- you’re somehow ushered into an incredibly rickety looking basket that’s swinging from rusty hinges. Ann is excited, talking a mile a minute, but you feel like you’re holding your stomach in with your hands. The clang the metal door makes as the operator locks you in sounds like a death sentence.

“Ooooooo, here we go!” The cab lurches forward and everything in you lurches with it, slowly pulling the two of you skywards.

“Oh god oh god oh god-” you’re frantically mumbling under your breath, trying to keep yourself together, but you can feel your heartbeat beginning to race and your fingers fumble nervously for some sort of purchase. “I don’t- can they stop the ride? I need to get off now!”

“Whoa, hey, Y/N- are you okay?”

“I can’t-!” The words choke up your throat, and pretty soon a full fledged panic attack is hovering just in the brink of your vision. Everything is too hot and too bright and too loud and you can’t breathe at all- the ride lurches as you halt at the top of the wheel, and a shriek escapes from you before you can hold it back- loud enough to make Ann jump.

“Jesus-! Okay, just, just calm down okay? It’ll be over soon, everything is totally fine, okay?”

You try to listen to her words, hands pressed to your face in effort to stop tears from rolling down your cheeks, but your breathing is still achy and off-tempo. The whole way down is a nightmare, every little shake of your seat setting off a torrent of new anxiety. You’ve practically leapt from the ride before it even touches down; stumbling down the steps and into the crowd with a red face and and shaky hands. Even worse, everyone is looking, watching you completely freak out, and you can’t get yourself to stop-

“Y/N.” Mori appears in front of you, tall enough to block out some of the blinding lights. “What’s happened?” You shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. “Breathe. You’re safe.”

He keeps talking, just like he has every other time he’s helped you through a panic attack. It helps to listen to his voice; ever calm and unruffled, a cool contrast to the thoughts in your head racing a million miles a minute. He takes your hand as well, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Y/N? Dance with me.”

You look up at him, choking back tears. “Mori- you- we can’t-”

Protesting doesn’t stop him from gently tugging you closer. You slip your arms around him almost in relief, letting yourself rest your forehead against his chest. His own hands drop to your waist, an incredibly familiar gesture that instantly slows your heart to a more manageable level.

It’s a callback to your first meeting- some gala so many years ago- where the long and formal night was starting to wear on your nerves something fierce. Mori had been kind enough to talk to a complete stranger, to joke with you and bring you a drink when you were clearly in no place to get one yourself. When he’d asked you to dance, you’d marveled that on the ballroom floor with his hand on your waist was the calmest you’d felt all night. Ever since, the two of you would ask each other to dance- to make the other take a break from homework, to celebrate a victory or cheer up after defeat, or just to make each other laugh. And at times like now, when the only thing that will get through to your overwhelmed senses is the feeling of his heartbeat as he sways with you back and forth.

“What are they doing…?” Tamaki comments, seeing the two of you dance quietly amidst a bustling walkway. You’re drawing some looks, but neither of you seem to notice- lost in your own world. “He’ll ruin the mood! This is not what we’re doing today, Mori-senpai!!”

“Is YN-chan okay?” Honey says worriedly, noting your red face.

“Let’s leave them alone. We’ll figure it out later.”

“But- but Haruhi, my carnival!”

“Tamaki I swear to god-”

…

When the crowds clear and all the girls have gone home, the eight of are you are left at a picnic table to watch crews of servants effectively bundle away the tents and booths. Honey is drowning in several newly-acquired plushies, the twins are devouring leftover food, and Kyoya is marking figures in his journal with a pleased expression on your face. You’re sitting next to Mori, probably closer than you should, but your nerves are still frayed. Haruhi is on the other side of you, occasionally sliding you worried glances. “So, um… is everything okay, Y/N? You seem a little…”

“Weird. Were you crying earlier?” Hikaru asks with his usual tact, words garbled from the popcorn in his cheeks. Haruhi shoots him a glare.

“Oh, um…” you fumble over an explanation until Mori subtly bumps your knee with his, grounding you. “I had a bit of a panic attack. A friend got me on the Ferris wheel and heights are…” you shiver a little. “But, um. Mori helped me, so. I’m better now.”

“Oh yeah, we saw that. Were you dancing?” The redhead raises a cocky eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

“Yes, care to explain?” Tamaki pipes in, his arms crossed and brow furrowed. “I thought we agreed that the theme was to be upbeat, casual, and fun! Dancing was not on the schedule!”

Your cheeks flame. “It’s just- something we do, sometimes.”

“Oh, because it’s a crime to dance with your girlfriend now?” Haruhi defends you with a nudge to your shoulder. “Geez, Tamaki, lay off.”

“Wha- G- Girlfriend?!” Tamaki sputters. “Mori-senpai does not have a girlfriend!” You look at the blonde skeptically. No, you hadn’t told them, but you thought they would’ve figured it out by now on their own… Mori seems to be thinking the same, giving you an amused glance. Haruhi is similarly looking at him in open disbelief, a gaze that says how thick can you be; Honey is giggling behind his hand, and even Kyoya raises a pointed eyebrow. Tamaki stares at all of you, not getting it. Then, very deliberately, Mori takes your hand in his and tangles your fingers together, right in front of the boy’s face.

“MORI HAS A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Kaoru almost chokes at his sudden change in volume. “Geez, boss, settle down!”

“But- but I- why did no one tell me? Who knew of this… this conspiracy!?”

Now even you have to hold back a laugh- Tamaki being ridiculous never fails to make you smile. You raise the hand not attached to Mori, and you can hear Mori’s laughter rumbling in his chest as he raises his as well. Honey sticks his bun-bun’s pink furry paw in the air, Haruhi holds up two fingers with an amused smirk, and even Kyoya puts a slender hand in the air.

The twins, for their part, just glance at each other and shrug. “We could’ve guessed.”

“Wha- you knew? And you kept it from me?” He rounds on Kyoya, his violet eyes wide and brimming dramatically with unshod tears. “But why, Kyoya-senpai?”

“Well, they asked me to, for one,” Kyoya says in his dry sarcasm. “I believe they were afraid you’d react along the lines of-” he gestures at Tamaki. “This.”

“That is hardly fair! As leader of this club I should know everything that goes on! I should-” he goes on, whining and pleading and arguing at Kyoya who very pointedly keeps a straight face and nods at the appropriate times while his best friend continues his rant.

“Well.” You glance at your boyfriend. “I suppose that worked out, then?”

“Something like that,” he agrees. He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Just for the record,” Haruhi leans in. “I think the dancing thing is cute.”

You shove her away, embarrassed, as the twins let loose some cat calls and Honey claps enthusiastically in agreement. “You guys are the worst,” you grumble, but you give Haruhi a smile anyways as you lean into the kiss Mori presses to the top of your head.

A/N: I had to throw in the “Mori, this is not what we’re doing today!” line XD