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cookiescribble · 5 months ago

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Extracurricular

(gif source)

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts fully written for like a month, i’m so sorry 😅 but i know we all love the professor episode, so I had to write a little something about it 🫶🏻 - mod angel

Pairing: Professor!Reid x Wife!Reader

Summary: Spencer is confused about why so many students are auditing his class. As his wife, you decide to come and investigate.

~~~

You heard the apartment door open, glancing up to see Spencer drop his keys on the table by the door.

You were reading on the couch, laying down and killing time before it was time for him to come home. You sat up, placing your bookmark on the page you last read before dropping your book on the coffee table. “Welcome home,” you smiled up at him.

He flashed a little smile, but you could tell something was up. You moved to sit cross-legged, making room for him on the couch. “What’s wrong?” You asked, patting the spot next to you so he could sit.

He plopped down on the couch, sighing, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into you.

“You looked so excited this morning,” you ran your fingers through his hair, something that had become routine when he came back from a tough case, or just needed some extra affection for any reason. “What happened?”

He sighed again, turning to look at you, resting his head back on the couch. “I don’t know, I was really excited to teach. I love sharing what I know with people.”

You nodded, fully aware of this. It was something you loved about him, always eager to teach you something new. It was annoying when other people did it, but not when Spencer did it. “Uh-huh. So what’s the problem?”

“I… I was eager to be an actual professor, hoping I could help people with their studies and their grades.” He looked a little frustrated. “But most people are only auditing the class. Only a handful aren’t.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not what you were expecting, huh?”

He shook his head. “I mean, I guess it’s good that people want to learn about this stuff? It’s just not how I pictured it.” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “At least they’re listening to me. And some of them are pretty enthusiastic about participating. There were a few girls who seemed really excited about this stuff.”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes a bit, a little smile on your face. “Wait, so… these people are auditing your class. And girls are participating… you said they listen to you… do you think they’re paying a little too much attention to you?” You inquired, slightly amused.

He gave you a confused look. “What do you mean? I think it’s a normal amount of attention to pay to a class.” He shrugged. “I mean, I always felt like no one was paying enough attention when I was in college, so I was pleasantly surprised that people were actually participating, asking questions, some of them even stayed for a bit after the class let out because they wanted to know more.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “Uh-huh… so, you got college students to not only stay awake, but alert and attentive… and they wanted to stay after class,” you spoke slowly, wondering if he would get the hint.

He nodded. “Yeah? Why?”

You gave him a pat on the shoulder, smiling and shaking your head. “Yeah, I know exactly why so many people are auditing your class.”

He still looked confused. Very oblivious. It was kind of adorable. “I don’t understand,” he replied, his brows furrowed.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, twirling a finger in his hair. “They must’ve heard that this class has a sexy professor.” You laugh softly, watching the cogs turn in his brain as he processed this.

He scrunched his nose a bit, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that…” He stopped, his eyes darting around as he became deep in thought. Probably perfectly recalling everything from his class that day. “… You really think that’s it?”

You nodded, kissing his cheek. “It’s adorable you wouldn’t have even considered that if I didn’t say anything.” He was absentmindedly running his thumb over your hand that rested on his shoulder. “I mean, I don’t blame them. I’d definitely audit your class.” You took his hand and started twirling his wedding band around his ring finger. “Did you tell them you’re married?”

He started to blush a little at the attention you were giving him, and at the thought of other people wanting to give him attention. “I’m pretty sure I mentioned it at some point… I think someone asked about it-“ He cut himself off, looking at you again. “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

You laughed, draping your legs over his as you gave him a quick kiss on the lips, which he returned. “Maybe I should visit your class, see what all the fuss is about,” you winked at him.

He smiled, running his fingers through your hair. “I don’t know if I’d be able to concentrate with you there.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead. “But, I admit, it would be nice.”

The conversation eventually fizzled out, as you and Spencer naturally fell into your usual evening routine; mostly just sitting on the couch in each other’s arms, talking, watching TV, and eating dinner.

You had an idea in your head the whole time, keeping it to yourself. You had a surprise planned out now.

…

The next day, after Spencer left for his class, you quickly got dressed to head out, throwing on a sweater and modest skirt with some flats. Nothing too fancy, you wanted to fit in with the other students.

You remembered him telling you the building his class was in, and you were able to slip in like you were supposed to be there. You found the classroom after wandering for a while, quite a few students already sat in the class. Of course; very eager, you thought

You thought about just sitting in the back to blend in with the background, but something possessed you to sit in the middle near the other girls in the class. Not really jealousy; you knew Spencer has never even given anyone else a second glance since you started dating. It was more like… pride. Perhaps a smug feeling. You may be infatuated, but that’s my husband.

You sat down near a group of girls, and they eyed you for a moment. You fidgeted, thinking they were going to start whispering bad things about you. Habit from when you were in school.

Instead, one of the girls leaned over, speaking to you in a friendly tone. “Hey, are you new to this class?”

You probably should have just admitted that you weren’t actually a student, but part of you just wanted to see what would happen. “Yeah, this is my first time here.”

She leaned in to whisper, “Did you hear about the professor? Is that why you’re here?” She was giving you a genuine look, seemingly just curious. Or maybe happy to talk to someone about this.

You feigned innocence. “No, I was just interested in the subject. Is there something special about him?” You reply in the same hushed tone as her.

She looked at the other girls around her, and they all giggled. One of the other girls responded. “He’s super hot. Didn’t you hear the rumors?”

You bit back a smile. It felt strange, having people talk about him like this. “No, I didn’t hear anything. Is that really true?” You tried to seem interested, without being conspicuous.

All the girls nodded. You leaned in a bit to match their enthusiasm.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” one of the girls whispered. “He said he’s very happily married.” She all but rolled her eyes at that.

A little smile appeared on your face, a warm feeling rushing over you. You put your hand under the table, hiding your wedding ring. “Really? Well… maybe I can have better luck with him.” You rested your chin in your other hand, smiling smugly.

She scoffed, obviously not believing you. “Yeah, sure. He wouldn’t even look at any of us.” She shook her head. “If you want to believe it, go ahead. I’ll be waiting to say I told you so.”

You were cut off by the sound of a door opening and closing. Spencer stepped out in front of everyone, putting some papers down on his desk. The girls immediately stopped their conversation, sitting up straighter in their chairs and facing forwards. You covered your mouth to keep yourself from snickering.

Spencer greeted the class, who echoed back his greeting. He started to introduce the material he was going to be talking about today, when his eyes settled on you. His expression softened.

You gave him a little wink and a subtle wave. He looked like he was holding back a smile, looking away from you to concentrate on teaching.

It was really a sight to behold, he had most of the class twirling their hair, wrapped around his finger without him even realizing. Not like you could blame the students; he was always able to make everything seem fun and exciting. It was something you loved about him.

The class seemed to fly by. You were honestly glad you came; you could watch him talk for hours. You’re sure he would if you asked, and you were considering it after seeing this.

When he dismissed the class, the girls started swarming him at his desk. You laughed and rolled your eyes, standing up slowly and hanging back a bit.

You could see him politely answering questions, ignoring the girls sitting on his desk and quickly packing up his things.

You walked closer to his desk, and he looked up and smiled. “Hey!” He called out to you, rushing over to wrap you up in a hug. You could feel the stares on you as you settled into his arms, and he kissed your forehead. “I didn’t know you were coming today!”

You smiled up at him. “I thought I’d surprise you.” You reached up to give him a quick peck on the lips, solidifying the jealous eyes that were glaring daggers at you. You couldn’t help it; you felt a pride building up inside you that you were the one he sought out while he was being crowded like this. “Surprise?”

He laughed, tucking you into his side, his arm around your waist. “Yeah, surprise.” He turned to everyone who was still lingering around you, their faces a mix of confusion and jealousy. “Everyone, this is my wife.”

You gave a small wave, everyone greeting you halfheartedly. You locked eyes with the girl who initially approached you earlier. She seemed more embarrassed than angry.

Spencer gave you one last little hug. “I have a few things to finish up, I’ll meet you home later, okay?”

You nodded, giving him one last little parting kiss before he slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk out of the classroom door.

Everyone was looking at you again, and you felt a little embarrassed now that Spencer wasn’t there with you. You started to excuse yourself quietly, trying to get out the door quickly without bringing more attention to yourself.

You heard someone catch the door after it almost closed behind you. “Hey,” they called out as they caught up to you.

You turned to see the same girl again, and you had to suppress your instinct to run away. Instead, you just nodded at her, giving her your attention since that was obviously what she was asking for.

“I, uh…” she started, her tone nervous. “What I said earlier, I wasn’t trying to say anything bad about you, I was just…”

You gave a soft chuckle in response, shaking your head. “It’s alright. I get it.” You gave a little wave of dismissal. “I might’ve done the same if I was in your position.”

That seemed to ease her worries a bit. “Thanks for being cool about this.” She hugged the books she was carrying closer to her chest. She spoke a little softer. “Dr. Reid spoke very highly of you, you know. When we asked about his wedding ring.” She flinched a bit. “Which I guess was kind of a weird thing to ask…”

You smiled, shaking your head a bit. He had people asking about his wedding ring, and he didn’t even have a second thought about it. “It’s alright. He didn’t even think anything of it. He thought you were just really interested in the course material.”

She furrowed her brows. “Really?” She still looked confused when you nodded. “Huh. Well, I guess he really loves you if he doesn’t even notice people flirting with him.”

You shrugged. “No, he’s just a little clueless when it comes to this kind of thing. I had to really spell it out for him that I was interested in him when I asked him out on our first date.” You smiled warmly at the memory, reliving those early days of your relationship, so long ago now.

She let out a soft laugh. “That’s kinda funny, actually.” She stopped walking, looking like she had to start walking a different way. “So… no hard feelings?”

You turned towards her and shook your head. “No, not at all. Maybe try not to come onto him in the future, though.” You smiled slightly, your tone light and casual.

“Of course,” she laughed awkwardly. “Um. I have to go to class now, so…”

You nodded at her. “Go ahead. Hope you have a good day.”

She smiled. “You’re really cool. I see why he likes you. Most people would’ve been really angry if they were in this situation.”

“Well, I’m not insecure about our relationship.” You felt your phone buzz, and you took it out of your pocket to see a text from Spencer, making you smile. “And I don’t fault anyone for being attracted to him.”

“Cool,” she said, starting to step back a little more. “Um. It was nice meeting you.”

You gave her a little wave. “You too. Hope you enjoy the class; Spencer is really happy to be able to teach people, so I hope everyone is actually listening to him and not just staring at him.”

She laughed lightly, her demeanor a little warmer now. “I’ll try to get the message out.” She waved and said goodbye before turning around and walking away.

You finally looked at the text Spencer sent you:

Hey, do you think you could pick up some dessert on your way home? I’m really craving something sweet. Maybe we could make brownies?

You smiled to yourself. Seeing all those people throwing themselves at Spencer really made you appreciate what you had with him. He had people gawking over him, but you were the one who got to go home with him and make dessert, and have all these sweet moments with him. You’d never get over just how lucky you were to be the one he chose to spend his life with.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

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requiemforthepoets · 17 days ago

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you just pulled a verstappen! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you played a sim racing before, but not really on an actual sim racing setup like lando’s. so when you had the chance, you decided to try it out.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, fluff, and a little bit of cursing

WORD COUNT: 820

AUTHOR’S NOTE: found this on my drafts. i have a lot of lando one shots, but never really posted it bc i think it was poorly written, so i decided to fix this one up and post it. i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

Your and Lando’s apartment was unusually quiet. Lando had been out all day, caught up in a string of meetings, and being alone in a big apartment, the boredom had started to creep in. You sighed, glancing over at Lando’s pristine sim racing setup, which sat there like a tempting invitation calling out for you. It wasn’t like you had not played sim racing before, but using his rig, specifically with Lando’s custom settings and all his tweaks? That was something else entirely.

“Eh, why the hell not?” You muttered to yourself with a mischievous grin.

You quickly booted-up Lando’s setup, and you were off. You found yourself in the middle of a tense Grand Prix, the roaring of the virtual engines filling up the headphones as you become very absorbed with the race. Time flew by, and you were too focused to even notice when Lando came home.

“Hey, baby! I’m back!” Lando’s voice echoed faintly from the hallways as he called back to you, and you never responded. All you could hear and think about was the hairpin turn coming up on the circuit, and nailing the turn. “Babe, where are you?” He called out to you again, but you were still glued to the screen, the intensity of the race drawing all of your attention.

A few seconds later, Lando still got no answer from you. So when he checked every room in the apartment, and saw that you were inside his gaming room all along, he entered immediately, but when he saw you, he stopped dead in his tracks. There you were, fully immersed in sim racing, eyes locked on the screen with his headphones on and hand deftly handling the steering wheel. He blinked, half in disbelief, before grinning like a little kid on christmas morning.

“Are you on my sim setup right now?” He asked, voice full of shock, but you were too busy overtaking another car to reply.

“Okay, that was a decent corner,” Lando said with a playful smirk as he walked over to you, leaning against the back of the chair. “Not bad at all.” He added, folding his arms, and watching in awe as you navigated through the pack of cars.

You heard him, of course, but you were in the zone. The next thing you knew, you pulled off a move that would have made Max proud, sliding past two cars with precision that even caught Lando off guard.

“Whoa, that was a Verstappen move!” Lando exclaimed, wide-eyed. “You just did a Verstappen! Are you sure you don’t want to join F1? Because honestly, what the hell was that?!”

A smirk just tugged at the corner of your lips, definitely proud of yourself, but you remained focused, determined to finish the race without breaking concentration. Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your intense expression.

“Alright, I need to record this one,” Lando chuckled, pulling out his phone. “No one’s gonna believe me if I told everyone on Thread that my girl just pulled a Verstappen move, unless I post it.”

“Look at this! My girl’s out here stealing my setup and driving like she’s been on F1!” Lando began as he started filming, making sure to capture the moment as you powered through the final lap, and zooming in on your face, grinning the whole time. “Guys, I’m telling you, I’m not really making this up. She’s actually faster than me on some of these corners!”

You barely heard him as you crossed the finish line, finishing in P1, and the sound of the crowd roaring through the headphones as you finally relaxed in the chair. You let out a squeal of happiness and looked over at Lando, who was still recording and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Okay, what was that?” He laughed at you, turning off the camera. “I leave for a few hours, and suddenly you’re doing Verstappen-level moves on my rig? Are you secretly practicing whenever I’m not home?”

“Maybe I’m just naturally talented, ever think of that?” You looked at him smugly, and wiggled your eyebrows as you teased him.

“You know what?” Lando grinned at you, gently pulling you out of the seat and wrapping his arms around you. “I believe it. I’m just saying, if McLaren ever needs a backup driver, you should really think about it.”

“Babe, that’s Pato’s job, and I won’t take that away from him,” you joked, causing Lando to laugh, and you leaned into his embrace. “I’m just kidding! But…I might steal your sim setup more often.”

“Deal,” Lando chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Just don’t make me look too bad, alright?”

“No promises.” You said cheekily, then grinning up at him.

“Alright, alright,” he smiled at you. “Now where’s my kiss.” You leaned in, and kissed him softly on the lips.

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teagballs · 1 year ago

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hands! | gob bluth x reader smut

authors note: crawls towards you hi im back. for my fellow hand enthusiasts. this has been in my drafts for like a MONTH finished it today. still taking arrested development requests but now i also that its always sunny and what we do in the shadows and beetlejuice.... yeah. love ya enjoy <3

cw: smut obviously. first person perspective hand kink. gob teases alot because he is an ass. clit play, fingering, hickies. written with fem reader in mind and they have a vagina.

nsfw under cut

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My boyfriend, Gob, had an interesting hobby. Magic. Not the most attractive or accomplished interest, but it was his and I loved him so I went along with it. Coming to his shows, helping him learn new tricks, even being a stand in for his assistant in some cases. I always tried to support him.

Now, I sat in his kitchen, watching as my boyfriend performed a card trick. And it wasn't all that enticing, he kept getting it wrong and dropping his cards all over the table. His dedication was cute. I smiled a little and tried to hold interest. But slowly, my mind began to drift. The way his long fingers glided over the edge of the cards, and how they flicked through them to pick out a select amount. I had always had a thing for hands, and it was seemly arising again now.

"Now, watch I'll get it this time, pick a card." Gob said, laser focused on the cards. I hummed in acknowledgement and picked a card. As he ran his nimble fingers over the deck and shuffled once more my mind began to wander. What kind of dexterity would a magician hold in his hands? Trying not to get flustered and attempting to lock this thought away, I crossed my legs as if to hold back my arousal and sat up straighter. 'Sexualising your boyfriend's innocent hobby? Perv,' I thought.

I tried to focus solely on the trick but that seemed to make things worse. God, he had nice hands. Lengthy digits, veins that ran on the back of his hands, was I blushing? Gob looked at me again, ready to ask for my card back to shuffle into the pile, but he seemed to pick up that my focus had shifted. Maybe he had gathered from my upright form and fidgeting that something was off and I wasn't fully present.

"Hey, are you paying attention?" He groaned childishly.

'Yes. Definitely, I am." I replied quickly, tensing a little.

"You're not. You look all distracted." Gob replied. Shit, he had picked up on it. I couldn't tell him the truth - the reason I wasn't fully focused was because his hands were really fucking turning me on.

"No I am really! It's just that, I.. um," I struggled to find an excuse, hoping the ground would swallow me up. If I wasn't flustered before I certainly was now. I settled on just awkwardly looking away from him, hoping he would either move away from the subject or figure it out on his own.

"What's up with you? You're all... oh." The pin dropped. Gob realised why I was so distracted. My hand grazed my face, trying to decide if he gotten there from context clues or if the blood had rushed to my face.

"So, what's got you so riled up?" he teased. The switch from showman to flirtatious dick was fast. He leaned over the table now, lowering his voice and tone.

"Riled up? What are you talking about?" Gob might be a little stupid, but he could still tell I were lying.

"You're blushing, that impressed by my magic?" He questioned. His ego was showing. There was no escaping this. I sighed and gave in.

"No its not your magic its... your hands." I admitted shamefully. Gob raised an eyebrow, confused.

"I've always had a thing for them. I find them, like, attractive, like you'd find ass or tits attractive, they just.. they make me think about what they can do, what'd they'd feel like on me, inside me." I babbled, trying desperately to explain my weird attraction.

To my surprise and relief Gob understood? He hummed in acknowledgement. "I get it." I could feel myself growing wetter.

"I guess you doing a magic trick... it made me think you know, cause your a magician, what else can you, um, do with your hands." I told him, looking anywhere but at him.

Gob smirked at this, filled with pride. "Well, how about you find out?"

I lifted my head to look at him, "...What?" I mumbled.

"Why don't you find out how good my hands are at other things?" His smirk grew.

Gob made his way over to me and kissed me. He grabbed onto my shirt to guide me out of the room. He moved his hands to my face as the kiss grew deeper stumbling out of the kitchen. The whole situation had made us both so desprate, essentially eating eachothers faces now. The pair of us stumbled onto the sofa, pulling away briefly to catch our breath with a string of saliva connecting. This time when we reconnected, Gob began to work the button of my jeans. I whimpered in anticipation. Gob's hand made its way into my jeans. Gently, using his ring and middle finger he felt my wetness through my underwear.

"Fuck. You really must like hands huh?" He chuckled goofily.

To help with ease of access, I began to shimmy my jeans off. Now, Gob was able to pull my underwear down. The cold air on my pussy made me arch my back. Gob hovered above md, hands on either side of my face on the communal sofa, which was about to be desecrated. He ran his index finger up my now exposed slit. He started slow, painfully slow. I twitched and bucked my hips, antsy for more. He repeated this movement until he gathered a sufficient amount of wetness. Finally, he ran small, steady circles around my soaked clit. This caused me to mewl out. I was a little embarrassed at how loud I were for such a small movement, though, this only seemed to encourage Gob. He continued his slow pace, but this definitely wasn't enough.

"Please Gob, please go fucking faster," I grunted out of frustration. Ever willing, Gob increased the speed. I grinded my clit down on his finger. In response, Gob switched to two fingers and started kneading my bundle of nerves an accelerated speed. Fuck. He was gifted with his hands. This new pace was overstimulating. He maintained it as I loudly moaned praises and a string of obscenities.

"Fuck! Gob- so fucking good- m'gonna-" was all I could get out before cumming.

Gob was full of himself now. Shocked at his own abilities. "Wow. And I haven't even touched here yet," he said, plunging his fingers in my drenched entrance. This action caused me to emit another loud sob to Gob's delight.

"Shouldn't waste anymore time." He mused and thrusted two fingers into my pussy. I arched again. A little awkwardly, Gob repositioned us both. Now he was sitting on the sofa with me in his lap, his fingers taunting me by hovering above where I needed them most.

"Please," I mumbled. He smiled before placing his two fingers in and out of my wetness. It was too slow. Not deep enough to feel any pleasure. My hole clenched around his fingers, my body's way of revealing yearning with using my words. He began a pace of moving his fingers. I needed more, needed him to go deeper, faster. Gob found my eagerness all too amusing. Once he reinserted his fingers to my drenched pussy again, he curled them. This action caused me to let out a long moan.

"Fuuuuuck." I groaned. Gob smirked against my neck, growing more and more proud of his ability to please. He attached his mouth to my neck, gingerly sucking love bites and kissing me gently as he continued to guide his fingers in and out of me. Gradually, he increased his pace. He began to pump in and out of my pussy, continuing to curl his fingers. He kept this up until he was fingering me at an excruciating pace, I wasn't going to last much longer.

"Fuck! Gob, m'gonna cum soon." I sobbed. Gob took this as a challenge. How quick could he make me cum? He reached his other hand down to my pussy and began to rub my clit again at a ferocious pace. This, combined with the attention to my neck was more than enough to send me over the edge and bring me to an orgasm for the second time.

I fell against my boyfriend, my head found its place in the crook of his neck. Exhaused. I look up to find Gob, licking the result of his labor off his fingers. I whimper a little at the sight, fuck that's hot. But I'm too tired to go again. Gob chuckles, "Did they live up to your expectations?" He asks, wiggling his hands in a sort of 'jazz hands' motion. I groan. I'm never going to hear the end of this. Cocky bastard.

#gob bluth #gob bluth x reader #arrested development #arrested development x reader #will arnett #x reader

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caffinedragon · 1 year ago

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Some Halsin/Razzikel(Tav) fluff for your consideration.

A rough draft idea of some simple fluff that has been bouncing around in my head for a bit. Enjoy.

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It was awful. Hilarious, but awful.

The book he read was one of the few novels not related to nature Halsin had gotten his hands on.

When the trader told him of how scintillating it was and that it was banned in a least two kingdoms, he had gotten very curious.

But now that he had gotten some time to read it, he wondered if the author had ever been exposed to sex at all in their entire life.

Throbbing Meat stick? Care for a fucking? Really?

At least it was good for a laugh.

And it was an entertaining way to spend a quiet snowy evening inside if nothing else.

With a contented yawn, he continued to read the "romance" novel as he sat cross legged on the floor in his quarters.

With winter having settled in, and all chores done for the day, there wasn't much else to do.

As he continued into another poorly written "love making" section he heard the door to his chambers open and the soft plodding feet of their new resident ranger Razzikel walking across the floor soon followed.

He looked up from his book long enough to see the tired expression on his ruggedly handsome face, the torch light in his room emphasizing the dark vine tattoos on his dark grey skin.

His violet eyes were dark and exhausted, and he could smell the faint scent of blood and sweat that clung to him after a successful hunt.

"What was your quarry this time?" He asked as he walked over to his side.

"Stag." His rolling thunder voice tiredly replied as he grabbed a blanket off the bedroll he had next to Halsin's bed, "Badly healed leg. Would have starved to death."

"Ah. Are we going to be treated to some of that tasty stew tomorrow then?"

"Mmm-hmm." He mumbled as he crouched down, laid on his side with his back facing Halsin's leg.

"Taking one of your meditative naps?"

"Mmm-hmm." He sighed as he pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, resting his head on a folded arm right next to his knee.

"Have a good nap then." Halsin smiled as he watched the drow who shared his size just less wide, curl up in much the same manner he did when he had been stuck in his wolf form.

"Mmm." He grunted as his eyes fully closed and his body completely relaxed.

Halsin went back to his book, letting the man rest after a long hunt.

Before he knew it, he had gotten immersed in the awfully hilarious book and out of habit, reached down to pet the wolf, his subconscious mind assumed was by his side.

He kept gently rubbing the wolf's soft hair and running his fingers along the wolfs pointed ears absentmindedly until...

"What are you doing?"

Halsin looked to where his hand was only to see Razzikel staring at him with an amused smirk on his face and one eyebrow raised.

He immediately retracted his hand, his face burning with embarrassment.

"Ah! Sorry...I didn't mean...I must have done it out of habit...Sorry..."

"Out of habit?" He tipped his head to the side, the same way a wolf did.

"Ah..." He laughed nervously, "When you were still stuck you would lay next to me the same way you do now while i was researching ways to help you and..." He trailed off.

"Mmm." he stared at the floor in thought for a moment, " That was why i was able to shift back after that long, then."

"What do you mean?"

"You made the wolf in me feel safe." He said with a shrug. "I was only stuck because I was too afraid. The wolf had to protect me until i had somewhere safe to stay."

The implications of that statement both warmed his heart and broke it at the same time.

"And it took 15 years..."

He shrugged again. "At least I survived long enough to turn back. It was more likely i would have died before ever returning to my drow body again. I am lucky."

"I guess that's true." He had to push the image of his Dire Wolf form dead from the many dangers of the forest from his mind before it saddened him.

"However, since that has been established..."

Utilizing quick reflexes, Halsin raised his arm up as Razzikel readjusted his position so his upper torso was laying across his lap, stomach down and arms crossed beneath his head.

He had done it so quickly and casually, that he was caught off guard long enough for him to grab his free hand an place it on his head where it had previously been.

It took him a few seconds to catch up but once he did...

"So, I assume you don't mind that i do that?"

"Mmm-mmm." He grunted as he got nice and comfortable across his lap.

"You wish me to continue then?"

"Mmm-hmm." he grunted again before letting out a very cat like yawn, complete with a long tongue stretch.

"Well, all right then."

He couldn't help but smile at the younger man's antics, seeing that even in drow form, the wolf still bled through.

Readjusting his hold on his book to account for Razzikel's body, he began to do just as asked and went back to running his fingers through his hair like he had done to his wolf form.

It didn't take long before he slipped back into his meditative sleep state, a look of peace on his face that Halsin hadn't seen since before he returned to his drow body.

If something this simple let a man as strong and as capable as him feel safe, he was more than happy to provide it.

Especially since his mere presence had provided the same for him many times over.

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#bg3 #halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 halsin #fluff #lythari tav #tav x halsin #halsin bg3 #baldurs gate

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jolienjoyswriting · 2 years ago

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Functional Completeness, Ch. II

Chapter 2 of 2 for "Functional Completeness," Essence of Ragnarok story. Co-written by AI Dungeon (Griffin)

As Hope continues to seek refuge in her friend's arms, Joseph begins to realize what's really going on between them.

Word count: 3,672 – Character count: 21,684 Drafted: March 26th / 27th, 2023 Revised: March 27th / 28th, 2023 –

Yup. It's official, now~

Hope, Joseph Lithius, "Essence of Ragnarok", and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li

[ ↶ Prev. Story | ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → | Next Story ↷ ]

"I'm… nervous…" "That makes two of us…"

Things were tense in Hope's bedroom. Both she and her fox friend were in the process of undressing themselves, fully committed to the idea of making love not as friends… but as something more. However, it wasn't without trepidation…

"Are you sure this is what you want right now?" Joseph asked as he unzipped his jeans. "Wouldn't you–" "I… I need this right now," Hope interrupted, sliding out of her T-shirt and cap. "I need to know that I matter to someone." The fox frowned, scooting out of his pants and sitting on the bed. "Okay, when you say things like that…" The girl giggled a little. "Don't worry about it… I'm just a little flustered because…" She turned around, warmly looking at him as she stood before him, devoid of clothes. "I want you to give you my body…" she whispered, "and my heart." Joseph looked over the featureless frame of his friend. Even though she had the literal anatomy of a girl's dress-up doll… he still found himself turned on. It wasn't just a physical attraction, though. He liked Hope… really liked Hope… for the woman that she was.

"I… I know it's not much… this man-made body…" Hope fidgeted, looking down at the floor. She then shyly looked back up. "B-but, it's all yours!" she nervously exclaimed. "I like it plenty…" The girl giggled… then she lowered her eyelids, giving the fox a seductive look. "I can tell…" Joseph blushed and grinned. He had removed his undershorts… and placed his tail over his lap, hiding a certain "something" from her. "What you see in this body of mine, I'll never know…" Hope stepped forward and sat with him, offering a soft smile. "But… I'm very flattered," she quietly told him. "Thank you…" "You're welcome," he replied, before kissing her forehead. Once again, Hope found herself giggling. The two embraced, cuddling close together as they shared a moment of reflection, resting their heads together. It was just what they needed to break the ice and feel more relaxed…

"Do you want to… um, do you want to get started?" After a short while, Hope spoke to her lover, sounding a little unsure. Luckily… "Do you want me to wanna get started?" Joseph was feeling playful. "Very funny," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Let's not start that again." He chuckled, then he leaned in, bumping noses with the girl. "Are you absolutely positive this is what you want right now?" he asked again. "'Cause I'd be just as happy to take you out to dinner or–" Hope softly pecked his lips, cutting him off. "I'm sure," she assured him. "This… this feels right." "Okay, then," he said with a smile. "Just making sure." "You're so sweet, Joseph…" The girl scooted inward, nuzzling his cheek much like he nuzzled hers. "I adore you for it…" "I'm pretty darn fond of you, too…" he replied. The two touched noses again, drawing closer still. Eventually, Joseph leaned in, kissing the android girl. She returned the favor. It was a soft, long kiss shared between two people who truly cared for one another… It made them both very happy.

"I'm glad you agreed to this, Joseph…" Hope had whispered to her friend after the kiss. Joseph smiled, fondly watching her eyes as they continued to embrace. There was an undeniable warmth to her words… and her gaze. "I needed… I needed to feel loved," she sighed, finishing her thought. "Between the stuff with Carlos and the bill for your repair," he whispered, nuzzling her cheek, "I can imagine you're feeling down!" "Yeah…" "Hey… We don't… have to make love, you know." The random statement startled Hope. Her eyes opened wide and she pulled back. "You keep saying that…" she quietly noted, sounding worried. "Don't you want to…?" "N-no!" he answered before nervously laughing. "I– I want to! I just…" He sighed, shaking his head. "Hope? Are you sure it's a good idea to, you know… 'seek happiness in the arms of another' so soon after your fight with your boyfriend?" A frown found its way onto the girl's face. No… it was more of a scowl. "He's not my boyfriend…" she lowly stated. "Not after the way he treated me." "But–" "A-and even if he were," she said in a raised voice, "it wouldn't stop me from wanting to give myself to you!" She paused, looking to the side. "It's not like he wanted me like you do, anyway…"

"You two never…?" Hope pulled away from the fox, hugging herself and closing her eyes. "Never ever…" she almost inaudibly whispered. "He… never found me attractive… S-sexually, I mean…" Joseph tilted his head, growing concerned. "Did he tell you that…?" he asked. She shook her head, opening her eyes. "No, no, that's not it at all," she replied. "Then… how do you know he–" "Any time I tried to be intimate with him," she said, turning fully toward her friend, "he would act very disinterested… and he sometimes outright avoided me!" "He… dodged your affections?" "Yes!" She said, nodding strongly. "As I said, he never found me sexually attractive! But… I don't suppose that I blame him…" The girl smiled… but it was a sad kind of smile. "I'm just an android made to vaguely resemble a Being of flesh and blood…" She looked down as her hand slid between her thighs. "I'm not anatomically correct… Even this… this sex toy between my legs," she said in disdain, "is as fake as I am! I can't feel anything… I can't achieve orgasm… It's simply there to be used by… whomever, I suppose…" Joseph frowned. "Hope…" The girl was looking away, again. "Maybe… maybe I was designed to be a 'sex robot'…" She laughed, sounding upset. "'Hey there, sugar…'" she whispered in a fake seductive tone. "'5,000 Rai for a handy? 10,000 for a beej? 25,000 for "The Works"?'" She laughed a little more… "'Oh. Yes. Oh, Gods Above, Void Below," she moaned unenthusiastically, "give it to me, baby. Uhn, uhh, unf.'" Once more, she laughed… before her face fell. "It's no wonder Carlos never wanted to make love with me…" The girl shuddered, eyes tightly shut and hands on her arms. Her sad smile had become a horrible grimace and she was starting to cry. It was breaking Joseph's heart…

"I'm just a dumb machine that was made to service males!" The fox jolted in surprise as Hope snapped her face back his way. "That must be why I'm the way I am!" she cried. "I'm physically incapable of being sexually aroused, much less pleasured… but the thought of making love with someone I adore makes me very excited, emotionally! I… I want to make them feel good… hear them make funny sounds… watch their faces contort and their cheeks redden as they… as they…" She hiccupped, tightening the grip on herself. "I… I'm a sex robot…" she eventually whispered. "Nothing more…"

Joseph stared at Hope as she sat there trembling and holding herself. She was trying not to cry or make any sounds, but she was failing at both. His sensitive ears picked up on the occasional whimper or whine, and even with her eyes closed, the tears wouldn't stop flowing. He had never seen her like that… and it made him feel angry.

"Who hurt you, Hope?" "Wh… what?" The girl looked up… only to lean back in surprise. Joseph was glaring… "J… Joseph?" She sniffled, rubbing one of her eyes with an uncertain smile. "What's–" "Who. Hurt you. Hope." She flinched from the cold tone of his voice. Was he angry at her…? "I… no– no one, Joseph! Really!" she lied. "'I'm just a dumb machine that was made to service males'." She winced again as he coolly echoed her words back at her. "Someone had to have put that idea in your head," he growled. "Who was it?" "N-no one put the idea in my head!" she shakily laughed. "I just get so worked up over little things like… Oh, Joseph, I'm so sor–" "Who. Hurt. You." Hope bit her lip. Joseph wasn't backing down on the topic… That made her extremely nervous. But at the same time… it made her want to confide in him. Either out of fear… or out of trust.

"Mister… um… Dr. Dylan…" "What?" "Dr. Dylan Dumouchel," she finally confessed. "He put the idea in my head…" "Wait…" Joseph's face relaxed as he cocked his head. "You said 'Dylan'… Do you mean that Dylan? My friend, Dylan? The one that's married to Liz…?" "Y… yes…" Hope gulped. "He… he put the idea into my head a long time ago…" "That bastard…!" The fox growled. He seemed mad again… but at least he wasn't aiming it at her, anymore. Actually, it didn't seem like he was ever mad at her. However, now that he had someone to aim that anger… "I'm gonna take a trip up to Chakram and kick his freaking ass!" �� "No, don't!!" Joseph's eyes shot open. Hope's did, too. They were both surprised by how quickly… and how loudly… the latter had told the former not to get involved.

"Wh… Hope?" His head went the other way. "What–" "This was a long time ago!" she exclaimed, leaning toward him. "We haven't even seen each other in five years! It's not worth getting all worked up about, much less wasting time on!" "I… I wasn't serious…" Joseph commented. "But I mean, if I ever see him again… And– and it is worth getting worked up over! It still clearly upsets you…" "Not as much as it used to!" She smiled weakly. "I've… gotten used to it…" "Don't lie to me…" he sighed. "You started crying and hugging yourself while saying things you think a sex 'bot would. You even called yourself one, too. You're upset." Hope looked away. Her expression said more than words could…

"It's pretty damn obvious that asshole did a lot of damage, calling you that. It's… weird, though." Joseph paused. "Did he design you for sex? Or…?" "No," she answered, spreading her legs for the fox. "He didn't install this." Joseph blushed a little. "Then… w-who did?" he asked. "My original creator, I suppose…" "Your… what?" His head tilted to one side. "Dylan made you. Didn't… he…?" The girl opened her mouth to speak… only to go wide-eyed and cover her mouth. "Uh– oh!" she cried before looking at him. "I… y-yes, Dr. Dumouchel is my creator!" "You're lying again…" Joseph frowned. "Aren't you?" "N-no! Of course not! I… I…" She squirmed… then she sighed in resignation. "We… don't know who created me… They found me on their doorstep one day and Dr. Dumouchel fixed me. That's… that's all we know for certain."

"Okay." Joseph nodded. Then, without missing a beat, he asked, "So… whoever your original creator was put that uh… 'a-add-on' between your legs? Right?" The girl nodded in return. "As I've explained, this artificial vagina–" The fox blushed hard at that word. He seemed a bit shy about the topic of anatomy… "– has no tactile feedback much like the rest of me… I only receive proximity alarms and pressure warnings. The latter only happens when I'm exceeding my recommended pressure threshold, too, like when I'm trying to lift something really heavy!" She smiled… only to look concerned again. "Are you… mad at me?" she skittishly asked. "For… lying about my creator…?" "Honestly? I don't care who originally made you," Joseph said with a smile. "It doesn't change the wonderful person you currently are. Now, does it?" "I… I suppose it doesn't, no." Hope finally smiled again. That made the fox smile even more.

"So…" After a pause for reflection, Joseph got the girl's attention. "If 25,000 Rai gets me 'The Works'… what would 50,000 Rai get me?" "I– wha–?!" Hope looked flabbergast! She imagined herself blushing somewhat hard at the question, but her cheeks stayed the same color they always were. "Joseph…!" she exclaimed with a laugh and a grin. "Why would you…? Honestly…!" "Hey." He snapped his fingers, winking and pointing at the android. "You're the one who brought it up, Ms. 'Sex Robot'!" She softly smiled. His casual tone had her feeling flustered, but at the same time… she was kind of amused? She decided to play along with him…

"50,000 Rai gets you the Platinum Package, 'honey'…" she said in a come-hither voice, lowering her eyelids and offering an over-the-top, suggestive look. "It includes everything in the previous packages… and a coupon for a free handy on your next visit." The girl winked. "Consider it a 'thank you'," she moaned, "for being such a dedicated customer." "Ivy, Ash, and Sky…" Joseph tugged at the fur on his collar, shaking his head and blushing. "Maybe you really are a sex 'bot, Hope! You're way too good at being all seductive!" The android paused, taking on a quizzical expression. Was her little roleplay that convincing? She kind of felt proud of herself.

"W-well," she said, straightening her posture and lifting her head high, "whether I was or I wasn't a sex robot in my previous existence is a moot point. I'm a registered nurse for the Chromium Region… and I'm going to be a mechanic next year! Right now, though?" She scooted over, leaning in and resting her head against the fox's fluffy chest. "I want to be yours…" The girl looked up, acting shy… but hopeful. "Please… tell me you'll make me yours?" Joseph smiled… "O-oh–!" Before he pushed the girl onto her back and slid atop her.

"Mmrrnnnff…" Hope made a weird nose, biting her lip and getting visibly flustered. Joseph was kissing her face and hugging her body so warmly… it was a little overwhelming! She imagined herself blushing even brighter than before as pink hearts formed in her high-definition optics. Part of her wanted to pull him down and cling to his body as she smooched him again… but like she said before, she wanted him to be the one to take action.

"You want me to make you mine, huh?" "Y-yes, please…!" she squeaked, excitedly nodding. The fox grinned, wagging his tail. "What's in it for me?" he teased. "Uh…" Her flustered look faded. "You… get to make me yours? Ph… physically?" "Hmmmmm…" His tail continued to wag as he thought it over. That made the girl feel a bit anxious… "You're… you're not having second thoughts, are you…?" Joseph leaned in, running his nose along her face. When he pecked her on the lips, she giggled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bumping noses with him after. "I like making you all squirmy like this…" he whispered, making her shiver. "You're so damn cute, Hope…" "O-okay!" The android was pretty sure her voice had gotten louder. She couldn't seem to contain her excitement anymore. And on top of that… "Did you know that you get little hearts in your eyes when you get excited?" Something she had imagined… was apparently happening in reality!

"O-oohhh!" she cried, closing her eyes and pulling him in tighter. "D-don't stare! It's embarrassing…!" "Hard not to," he said with a chuckle. "It's not every day I see a cute girl get cartoony hearts in her eyes… much less ones looking right at me." Hope was starting to feel "blushy", again. She slowly opened her eyes… The pink hearts were still there. Only… they were brighter than before. "Also…" "Y… yes?" she shyly pressed. "You're kinda… grinding against me…" Hope's eyes opened a little wider. The pink hearts faded a little as she regained her composure. She hadn't realized what she was doing… and as she thought about it, she didn't know why she had been rubbing against him. As she explained, it was impossible to "turn her on". Her body simply wasn't designed for true sexual stimulation, much less intercourse. But, for some reason… she couldn't seem to stop herself. And so… the hearts came back into her eyes… and she rubbed a little harder, drawing a blush and a smile from her lover. She wasn't kidding about wanting to be his… –

"We need to get you a bigger bed…" "What's wrong with the bed I have…?" "There's no room for two people to cuddle!"

Joseph and Hope stayed glued together for the longest time after their lovemaking… They wanted to stay in each other's arms for the rest of eternity… Sadly, biology rudely got in the way of that. When Joseph came back from the bathroom, though, he was quick to flop right back onto the woman he loved. That's when the conversation turned to her tiny bed.

"We seem to be doing fine…" she cutely remarked as she stroked her lover's head. "Sure?" he purred, laying atop her frame. "But, like, I wanna lay side-by-side as I lovingly gaze into your eyes and let our souls combine into one…" "Mm…" She got an image of herself blushing, again. "Androids don't have souls, Joseph." "You don't know that." Hope giggled a little. "The Teachings of the Trinity don't make any mention of man-made people beyond–"

"The only thing 'man-made' about you is your body, Hope." He leaned up, stroking her cheek and smiling as he looked into her optics. "There's no disguising the very real soul behind those beautiful eyes…" Her blush intensified in her head, though she outwardly grew much more flustered. The hearts in her eyes started to glow a little brighter, too. "J… Joseph… I don't know what to say…" she whispered. "Nothing." "Nothing?" "Just… say nothing as we bask in the moment, my love." At that point, Hope was absolutely convinced she was blushing for real. She wasn't, of course… However, she knew she would be beet-red if she could be! Regardless, the two stayed together for a few more minutes, enjoying the warmth and closeness of each other's bodies.

"Feel better, love?" "Mm…" Hope nodded. "I needed this…" "You needed someone to love and adore you like the wonderful woman you are?" The girl whimpered, biting her lip. "I-If you keep flattering me like that…" she half-warned, unable to keep herself from smiling like she'd gone loopy. "What? What'll happen?" Joseph grinned. "You'll blush?" She wanted to. She really… really… wanted to! Instead, though… "Nn–!" She silenced the fox with a hard kiss. Which, of course, made him blush. "I love you, Joseph…" was the next thing she said. Joseph smiled, cuddling into her hard, warm body. "I love you, too, Hope…" he purred. The hearts never left Hope's eyes as she nuzzled into his cheek and he nuzzled into her neck. They were truly beyond all earthly concerns… At least… for a time.

"Think Kris is gonna be mad?"

Sometime after the two had calmed back down, Joseph posed a question to Hope. "Do I think Ms. Sanders is going to be upset we made love?" she replied. "Again…" the fox added with a nervous chuckle. "You're in an open relationship, right?" Hope smiled, squeezing the fox. "I don't think she'll be upset with us. Do… you?" When his ears fell back, the girl looked down and hummed. "To be fair…" she began, "I don't… I mean… we didn't…" She looked back up, wearing a worried face.

"I… I understand your concern. This… wasn't just sexual intercourse between friends," she surmised. "We… we made genuine love." The hearts came back to her eyes as she smiled. "And it was wonderful…" "It really was…" The two shared a smile… then they looked away, Joseph blushing and Hope imagining herself blushing. "How… 'open' is your relationship, if I may pry?" "She's gonna be upset… may– maybe even a little hurt…" The fox looked back up before nuzzling the android's cheek. "I didn't mean to fall in love…" he sadly whispered. "I don't regret it, but–" "Do you think… you could be in love with two people?" Hope shyly asked. He looked away again. "I… I really hope so…" Hope continued to look at the nightstand, getting lost in thought… "Me too…"

After a little more cuddling, Joseph climbed off of Hope and helped her off of the bed. He asked if he could use her shower and she was happy to let him. As he bathed, Hope found herself wondering if she had done something wrong… something that would ruin things between him and Kris… She remembered catching Joseph and their mutual friend Eliza in the middle of physical intimacy, once… That particular instance of "unfaithfulness" didn't seem to affect Joseph and Kris' relationship much. However… she was almost completely certain that Joseph was never in love with Eliza… and Eliza definitely wasn't in love with him. No, their rendezvous was just a "fling". When it came to her growing relationship with Joseph, though… Gosh… This really complicates things… A worried look found its way back onto Hope's face. She, herself, didn't take much stock in "closed relationships" or monogamy. If she liked someone and they liked her back… she didn't see a reason not to act on it! From her understanding, that was Joseph and Kris' mindset, too! Kris even told her they were in an open relationship, adding that it was "none of her business" who Joseph slept with. There was an implication that the same applied to Kris, too. However… there was more to her relationship with Joseph than simple bedroom antics. They were, as far as she could tell, in love. Or… were they? Do I even know what love is…? she wondered. May– maybe I'm misreading things…

Hope and Joseph eventually parted ways for the evening, sharing one last hug. Once he was gone, she closed the apartment door and leaned against it, arms behind her back and eyes staring at the ceiling. We should tell Ms. Sanders what's going on, she thought. It's the right thing to do. The girl nodded to herself. However… I just… don't know when or even how to bring it up…

#fiction #Essence of Ragnarok #Year 2048 #Functional Completeness #original characters #Hope North #Joseph Lithius #slice of life #drama #romance

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anthrofreshtodeath · 2 years ago

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P FKN R Snippet

I've been playing with P FKN R again, while I work on Cafuddàri 18. Slowly. I only have three chapters written, so it won't be posted any time soon, but I often like to share drafts of what I'm working on because conversation always drives the process forward.

See it below the cut.

Jane sat on the couch right after tossing Maura a glance that asked for permission. Maura granted it, so Jane lowered herself - slowly, as if that were supposed to show some grand contrition. She didn’t know; she’d never been in this kind of delicate situation before. “Listen, Maura, me and Tatiana… we’re a thing,” she said, putting her hand on Maura’s knee. Maura jerked away, but Jane followed. She winced. “That, shit. That came out wrong. What I mean is, me and Tatiana are a thing, unless one, or both, of us, has a thing. Does that make sense?”

It must have, just a little, because even though Maura still sniffled, she turned more towards Jane. “To be honest, no,” she replied, rolling up her eyes to prevent even more tears from falling and embarrassing her.

“It means that she and I have an agreement,” started Jane. She watched Maura’s body for signs she should stop, or alter course. When Maura only listened with that emotion-weary look, her downturned lips, Jane continued. “When we’re not seeing people, if we’re in each others’ neck of the woods, we… we have fun. If we both want it.”

Maura twitched her nose. Then her cheeks reddened when she looked Jane full in the face since she yelled at her in the foyer. “That’s - that’s all?”

Jane actually laughed a little. “Yeah,” she confirmed, and Maura tracked the handsome little bob of her voice box. “We’re not… serious. We uh, I don’t think we ever will be. We figured out a long time ago that we’d always be on different life paths. Her dream was always New York; mine was, is, Boston. Home.”

“So you pick up your relationship when she’s here?” Maura asked, voice shaky and quiet, “Or when you’re in New York?”

“We have sex, Maura,” Jane deadpanned. “We have sex when she’s here.”

Uncharacteristically, Maura blushed. She chalked it up to the fact that they are talking about the sex life of her very-catholic best friend, and not any personal investment in the matter. “The… that conference. In New York City,” she said, unable to help the words tumbling out of her mouth. “That cybercrimes and homicide investigations conference. Last May.”

“No,” Jane anticipated the unasked question. “She was upstate. Had some business with one of the ADAs out there. I didn’t see her. Thought about it, though.”

“Ugh,” Maura groaned, her head thrown back. She dabbed at her eyes with each index finger and closed them while she shook. “I’m sorry, for crying. For overreacting before I had all the facts.”

Jane pursed her lips. She scanned Maura from head to toe, in her usual semi-casual Saturday shopping attire and having fully expected an evening out with her friend and instead finding that friend in bed with someone Maura barely knew. “You, uh, you don’t gotta be sorry,” said Jane. She looked down at her own hands, folded over her lap. She wore running shorts and an old, faded Red Sox t-shirt, and possibly mismatched socks. She imagined that if she lifted those hands up to her face, they would probably still smell like Tatiana Martinez Vazquez. Jane reddened again. “You don’t ever gotta apologize for feelin’ your feelings. And I fucked up today. We had plans and I forgot because I was thinkin’ with… well I wasn’t usin’ my brain. But we can still go, ok? I got a couple changes of clothes upstairs. Lemme just shower and get dressed and we can do everything we planned to.”

Maura perked up. “Are you sure you don’t need to… Should you at least call her? You must have left seconds after I did to get here so fast,” she replied. She couldn’t deny the hammering in her chest, explicit possession, a thrill that Jane had abandoned her tryst with a very attractive young woman to come be at Maura’s side.

#P FKN R #lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #poor maura #however my plan is for her to get the last laugh of course #people are probably going to hate this the way they hated trigonometry but oh well #I do what I want lol

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360iris · 3 years ago

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do you have any wips? sorry i’m just curious, i’m in love with your writing

Luv, Hold Me Down (Sirius Black x Reader, WIP)

Warning: Mature themes? I don’t know with this one.

Word count: 2,209

A/N: You’re gonna hate my ass because I have zero intention to finish the smut on this one shdhd. Maybe when I’m less busy I’ll come back and update it (although not atm). There are typos galore too so I’m sorry in advance!

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The infamous Bubblegum Bomb Incident of 1972. Casualties: one.

During Year Two, Sirius had resolved to get revenge on Cissy’s insufferable boyfriend ever since he tripped him in the halls to get a laugh out of his Slytherin lackeys; and what better way to do that than ruining his precious platinum locks.

It was suppose to be a quick and untraceable procedure. He’d get to personally serve Lucius his own brand of justice and the job would be completed without having to suffer detention.

If only you hadn’t been rushing through the halls that day.

Lunch had just ended, and you were haphazardly ducking and dodging through the wave of students, on your way to visit Remus. He’d been sentenced to a strict, three day period of consistent bed-rest in the infirmary after a particularly bad transformation.

You’d just wanted to bring him a slice of his favorite Hogwarts style coconut cream pie, but one wrong turn and you were suddenly bombarded with three quick pelts of homemade exploding bubblegum bullets.

Sirius had designed them to be quick and lethal with their distribution of rubbery goo so that the target's hair was sure to be ruined.

The first shot sent the small plate in your hands completely airborne. The next two hit you square in the chest, knocking you fully onto your back.

The aftermath was so extreme that it took the combined effort of Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and eventually, the guiding hand of Madam Pomfrey to free you from the sticky sludge and off of the stone pavement.

By the time they’d got to the infirmary, your entire head of hair had been deemed unsalvageable by sweet Poppy, and the only thing she could figure to do was shave it clean off by hand.

You’d spent the next two days unexpectedly alongside a tired Remus, confined in the sick bay, crying your eyes out hysterically. You’d had no idea who had done this to you or why.

That was until the third day, when Poppy finally allowed visitors in, in hopes of lifting your spirits.

Your guests included:

An empathetic Lily and Mary, both girls bringing you and Remus an abundance of flowers from the greenhouses, with explicit approval from Professor Sprout; alongside the homework you’d missed and plenty of junk foods.

An overzealous Marlene who’d spent the entirety of the three days drafting up and collecting signatures for a petition to permanently ban disruptive joke shop type inventions.

And lastly, an uncharacteristically stonefaced James and solemn Sirius who both quietly observed the crucially placed scarf on your head meant to distract from your current state of baldness.

“Go on then. Tell her, man. It’s only proper.” James said abruptly with folded arms, for the first time ever foregoing his usual impeccable home-taught manners and any form of courteous greetings altogether.

You watched confused as Sirius stood some several feet away, staring directly down at his shoes. After another coarse verbal prod from James, he stepped forward, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

“I- You have to understand, I couldn’t have known, Y/N! It happened so suddenly and before I knew it, it was too late!” He pleaded desperately and you weren’t quite understanding what he meant.

“I don’t follow, Sirius. What are you on about?” You asked, watching as he began wringing his hands.

He looked over to James again, seemingly pleading for aid that wouldn’t come. James looked positively severe, intent on standing by his decision to have the boy do this by himself.

“I- I was the one who blew the gum bullets.” Sirius finally whispered, looking positively terrified of your reaction. “But I didn’t intend on hitting you, I promise! It was for that git Malfoy! Remember when he tripped me in front of all of those sixth years last month? I’d been working on a way to get him back ever since! You’ve got to believe me, Y/N!”

But you’d stopped listening after the initial reveal. Your blood ran cold and it was hard to focus on anything in particular before suddenly all of your senses came rushing back in, and you were furious.

And even though James and Remus had been gauging your response, neither could have been quick enough to match the speed at which you pulled off both of your slippers and hurled them at the older boy’s face.

Successfully managing to clock him so hard, he reflexively reached up to clutch his sore, but still intact nose.

After that day, you had deemed Sirius public enemy number one, he managed to outrank even the silver-spoon fed Slytherins and that antagonizing blight, Peeves.

While there were tonics for quickening hair growth, you cursed Sirius Orion Black, every time you had to awkwardly apply a plethora of random oils to your scalp and walk around campus bald for an entire semester.

When he looked your way, you glared back mercilessly. If he dared to even address you, your responses were far from being deemed PG-13.

He’d spent the first six months wearily but consistently trying to apologize, however the damage had already been done, and it’d destroyed any semblance of friendship he’d crafted with you beforehand.

So after a while, he gave up. If you were going to hate him regardless of his actions, he figured he might as well stand up for himself during the bickering matches that transpired whenever the two of you were less than six feet apart.

Over the years, you’d remained bestfriends with Remus and James, though they could never hang out with the both of you at the same time.

For example, if you were eating breakfast with the two boys in The Great Hall and Sirius arrived late after sleeping in, you’d promptly roll your eyes and slide away to talk with Lily.

——

“That most definitely is not healthy, James.” You grimaced, tilting your head back laughing. The book in your lap, long since abandoned from the moment your bestfriends entered the common room.

“Muggle five second rule, Y/N! You were the one who told me about it to begin with!” He grinned from his spot sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you.

You couldn’t help bursting into a fit of giggles, desperately trying to respond. “Rem- Remus! Please! Inform him that it doesn't apply to dropping a sandwich down an entire flight of stairs!”

“Believe me I tried, but he seemed pretty determined to eat it, hair and all after catching up to it.” Remus replied softly, a fond smile playing on his lips as you began making gagging noises of disgust.

“No! James Fleamont Potter, tell me you didn’t actually eat hair!” You laughed, extending your socked foot to shove him.

“I will suffice by just saying that, there may or may not have been a stray hair or two on it when I picked it up- Oh! Sirius, how was detention?” James trailed off to greet a certain boy and your demeanor immediately soured.

Your textbook on alchemical runes suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.

“It was worth it. Mcgonagall must be getting tired of me because she had me choose a book and read for three hours. Don’t let me interrupt the fun though. Looks like you’ve finally coaxed the Ice Queen to defrost for a bit. Shame I wasn’t here to see it.” He remarks, and you didn’t need to be looking at him to know he was wearing that infuriating smirk.

“Don’t worry, Black. I’ll never be able to truly relax knowing you’re still out running amuck. Next time you get written up, I’ll be sure to beg Mcgonagall to keep you chained outside with the rest of the wild animals.” An acute look of disgust etches across your face as you close your book, promptly shoving it into your bag.

“If you’re so desperate to see me in a collar, the person you need to be begging is right in front of you, doll.”

You could not have rolled your eyes harder at his remark. In a huff, you tug the strap of your bag around your frame and stand indignantly.

“You’re actually right for once. James? Keep your mutt on a tighter leash, before I’m forced to be the one that puts him down.” You sneer, flipping your hair over one shoulder and striding up to the girls dormitory before he can get in another word.

Remus sighed, unhappily leaning back against the couch he was currently sprawled across. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Sirius watched as your figure disappeared up the stairs before turning to the boy, a dumb smile playing on his lips.

“She doesn’t hate me nearly as much as she tries to make you believe.” Was all he offered giddily before skillfully changing the subject.

———

Much like the infamous playboy Sirius Black, you were known for how frequently you broke the hearts of anyone you hooked up with. They found that sex with you was a spiritual experience, but were usually crushed when you made it clear you weren’t interested in recurring partners.

When Gryffindor’s Quidditch team won a mid-season match against Ravenclaw, James was relentless in persuading you to come to the after party. And though you weren’t originally keen on the idea, you figured it’d be an ample opportunity to relieve some stress.

The night had gone well. You’d garnered a nice buzz from the punch James made in his dorm and had your eyes fixed on Theodore Nott who’d been snuck in by Marlene.

Sirius, who was working his way onto his third cup of punch, watched you make eyes with the Slytherin boy from across the room.

He sat silently seething as you adjusted in your spot on the couch, crossing your legs while holding that snake’s gaze. In the end, all it took was the simple curl of your index finger for Theodore to hand his drink to an unimpressed Marlene and approach you.

Sirius watched as the two of you exchanged a handful of words before you sultrily dragged the boy away by his collar.

It took a minute for him to register that the styrofoam cup in his grasp was crushed.

After grabbing a napkin, he irritatedly ran a hand through his hair and his breath was ragged.

Why did he care that you were probably seconds from fucking a random guy? He definitely wasn’t one to judge, he’d been with plenty of people over the years.

However, no matter how many times he rolled the idea around in his head, he was getting angrier by the minute.

Remus approached him to spark up a conversation, but he was already slipping past him, towards the direction he watched you disappear to earlier.

He found you in the hallway, lip-locked with Theodore who had a grip on one of your exposed thighs. Meanwhile your hands were tangled in his hair.

Sirius’ body switched into autopilot, moving at such a speed that his brain couldn’t even keep pace.

He had harshly pulled the boy off of you, slung you onto his shoulder and made his way to his dorm. Partygoers standing confused as you beat his back, yelling at him to let you go. Once he’s on the stairs away from prying eyes, he delivers a sharp slap to the exposed skin on your thigh.

“Stop screaming bloody murder, Y/L/N.” is all he says and you bite your lip at the sting.

By the time he locked his door and tossed you onto his bed you’re looking at him like he’s insane. Scurrying to get off the mattress but he quickly grabs you ankle, pulling you back to where he dropped you.

“What the fuck has gotten into you!?” You hiss, watching him run a hand through his locks.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to stop being a brat and realize you like me. Tired of watching you hop on random dicks that aren’t mine. You want to get laid tonight? Fine, fuck me then.” He growls and you’re instantly overwhelmed.

“Did a screw come loose in your head? I don’t know what the hell you’re on but I’m not fucking you all people!” You respond by grasping a pillow from his bed and chucking it at his head. He easily catches it with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since our first year, Y/N. And I’ve observed you long enough to know if you genuinely hated me or not.” He confesses and you freeze. His eyes were crystal clear and you’re at a loss of words so he continues.

He gently grasps one of your hands, bringing it up over his heart. You can very faintly feel his heart racing and your brows furrow. He was actually being genuine.

“You want fuck me so bad you’ve officially gone stupid?” You ask but he sees the tiniest smirk on your lips. And for whatever reason, you actually let him move in to kiss you.

He jumps a bit when you bite his bottom lip and you giggle before he’s pressing you back onto the bed.

It’s a fight for dominance, neither of you wanting to be the one that relents.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #Harry Potter Smut #hp #hp wip #hp fanfic #the marauders #marauders era #hp smut

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rintarhoes · 4 years ago

Text

“KISS ME SLOWLY” — suna rintarou ;

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off and you’re one of the very few people who know this.

♡: repost (: this was written way before it was announced that suna was a part of the japan olympic players so.

It’s you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It’s when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.

“My number?” You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)

“If you don’t mind, ’s cool if you say no,” he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you’d say no.

It’s funny, really. It’s not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you’d say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn’t so full of himself to actually think you wouldn’t say no.

That’s what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you’re done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.

“Y/N?” He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn’t wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.

“Thanks, I’ll text you later,” is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he’s been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.

The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping in affection.

“Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?” You had questioned him before, about the second time you’ve seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.

“It’s a once in a while kinda thing, you don’t actually think I’d sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?” He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes—now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.

It’s when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It’s as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.

“You’re really interesting, y'know that Rin?” You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.

“Yeah?”

“I mean—you’ve always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it.”

“What makes you say that?” You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.

“C'mon, don’t be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!” You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.

But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, “’s not that deep, y/n,” he answers.

But you already knew better.

Suna isn’t one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.

It’s hard to say it wasn’t amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you’ve met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She’s quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother’s comments.

“Are you sure you didn’t just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?”

“Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?” Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.

“You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!” She attempts to whisper. You’re not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.

“Shit, Y/N,” Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink’s intrusion, but Suna’s quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.

“You okay?” He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, “Be careful next time,” he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.

There’s something about the way that his little sister doesn’t seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.

After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.

“Hey, nee-san, promise you’ll take care of Rin-nii? You won’t break his heart, will you?” His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll promise I’ll take care of him, promise I won’t break his heart,” your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister’s gaze remains on you, as if she’s assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.

It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must’ve missed something.

“Whatcha girls talkin’ bout?” He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.

“None of your business, obviously,” his sister quickly answers.

They’re truly quite similar, it’s enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.

“What’d she tell you?” Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.

“Nothing, Rin,” you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.

You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.

It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that’s been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.

Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you’ve been nothing but patient.

What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn’t make it?

When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn’t look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.

“I’m just gonn—” he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.

“Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon,” Suna hears you say but it doesn’t sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done, okay?” He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.

You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.

“’m sorry, bunny,” he mumbles.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—”

“It’s odd, thought I’d pull it off, thought it’d be nothin’ if I didn’t make it. Don’t know why I’m so upset right now,” he continues, cutting you off, “Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I’d be nice to make you proud, ya know?”

Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.

You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.

“I’m always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud,” you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.

“Don’t even get why it matters to me this much, it’s just—” it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.

Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it’s all you can do when your heart feels like it’s going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, “I promise that you’ll make it next year, Rin. I’ll be with you now, and I’ll still be with you then.”

It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy.”

“’s too bad there’s nothin’ more I need than you, then.”

That’s what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.

📞 violet is calling… all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou #inarizaki #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna fluff #suna angst

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wishingforatypewriter · 4 years ago

Note

anything on baavira and marriage/pregnancy/kids!

Thanks for the ask! I’ve been dying to write some more domestic fluff for these two!

"You need to work with me here," Kuvira said in a stern tone as she gazed down at her baby bump. Eight months into her pregnancy, she had finally reached the point where even the only garments that fit comfortably were her old Zaofu clothes. She now understood completely how such loose fitting clothes had become the fashion in a city founded by a woman who’d done this four times. “Just let me finish this bill and then we'll get a snack."

The baby decided to listen this time and stopped trying to drop-kick their way out her uterus. After the two cracked ribs she'd gotten a few weeks back, she felt certain that the child had to be training for a pro-bending championship in there.

She used the temporary respite to work on her draft of a policy proposal to subsidize tuition at the University of Ba Sing Se in order to create access for students with limited means. As she was finishing up, Baatar came in with the mail and a paper to-go bag from The Jasmine Dragon.

Her husband leaned down to kiss her on the forehead and then handed her the bag. Earlier, she had asked for either a custard bun or a moon peach tart; he'd brought both and a bubble tea with grass jelly.

"You're eating one of these," she said, gesturing at the desserts, although the statement sounded false even to her own ears. She changed her mind completely after taking her first bite of the bun. “Never mind.”

“I figured I should get something for each of you.” Baatar took a seat on the other end of the couch she'd been reclining on, lifting her feet and then resting them back on his lap. "How are the two of you doing?"

He started running his knuckles down the arch of her left foot. Kuvira sighed, letting herself sink deeper into the couch. "Baby Beifong stopped kickboxing my ribcage for long enough to let me finish the university bill."

Baatar paused the massage briefly and cast a worried glance her way. "Are your ribs—"

"I'm fine," Kuvira said quickly, rubbing her hand over the baby bump. "Just a little sore. And please don’t say anything to your mother this time."

The news of her cracked ribs had led to an hour-long lecture from Suyin over the radio about how she was simultaneously too active and not stretching enough, which ended—as all their conversations seemed to recently—with a rant about how she should just come back to Zaofu and have the baby there.

Baatar shook his head. “Who are you telling? She lectured me for three hours straight for not sending an airship for the family doctor in Zaofu because she’s convinced all the physicians here are still stuck in the Age of Kyoshi.”

“Oh, Suyin.” Kuvira sighed, feeling only half as exasperated with the matriarch as she normally would. “At least she isn’t trying to kill me anymore.”

“Small miracles.”

Baatar kept rubbing her feet, and Kuvira bent a strip of metal off her bracelet to open the package he’d brought in. The shipping labels on the parcel were from Air Temple Island, which could only mean one thing.

Opal had sent a letter along with a knitted sky bison plushie and a board book about the adventures of Avatar Aang. The missive was longer than what Kuvira had come to expect of the airbender. In addition to her usual inquiries about the baby’s wellbeing, she wrote at length about the daycare program the air acolytes were running in order to accommodate new airbenders with young children, the speed with which Master Tenzin’s wife was knitting the sky bison plushies for the children, and the cunning with which Kya helped Opal secure one for her new niece or nephew. She had ended the letter by stating that Toph wanted to see her great-grandchild and that Opal would be flying her out to Ba Sing Se on her snotty bison soon after the baby was born.

“How does she keep finding Toph?” Baatar asked after she passed the letter on to him.

“I think Toph finds her,” Kuvira replied before turning back to the proposal she’d been working on. “I need to get this through the legislature before the baby comes and your whole family shows up here.”

Between the newborn and the Beifongs she expected to be out of commission for at least two months.

"The university bill is going to be a strong record to run on."

Kuvira glared at him. "Not you, too." Over the past few weeks she had told no fewer than six reporters that she had no intention of running in the next gubernatorial race. "How many times do I have to say that I'm out of government for good?"

Baatar shot her an incredulous look.

"What?" she asked.

"Love, you've written four of the current administration's five major policies this year, and the fifth was excavated from the Empire's constitution."

Kuvira matched his gaze with a defiant one. "Your point being?"

"You have a very peculiar definition of being out of government."

Kuvita sat up a little, as much as her stomach would allow, and crossed her arms.

"I'm a consultant. That’s hardly the same as—" Just then, the baby gave a little kick, clearly just as unconvinced as their father. She winced though the pain and then sighed, slumping back against the couch cushions. "Even if I wanted to run, the world leaders would never stand for it."

"That's never stopped you before," her husband said with a knowing look. "And it's legal."

Kuvira felt a smirk growing on her face. "You checked?"

"I'm surprised you didn't."

She had thought about doing so every day since the first reporter asked, but chased the idea out of her head each time.

“Why would you even want me to run for office? The Earth Empire ended in disaster.” She swallowed back a lump in her throat; stupid pregnancy hormones. “It nearly destroyed us.”

“The Empire ended badly, but it didn’t start that way. You were the best ruler this city had seen in over a hundred years, and the people know it,” he told her. “I knew you’d end up back in power the day you left Zaofu.”

Kuvira’s gaze softened. “And you still followed me back here?”

Baatar reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Without a second thought.”

Kuvira kept hold of his hand, content in the knowledge that all was finally well in her world. A lifetime ago, her grandmother told her that this day would come—that the palm of destiny would reach down and place joy in her path, that the earth spirits (whose existence Kuvira still wasn’t fully convinced of) would forever make her gardens grow. She had never truly given herself permission to believe it could be true.

“Maybe I’ll run next cycle,” she said. “Not this one. I want to enjoy this for a while.”

#baavira #kuvira #baatar jr #legend of korra #lok #tlok #domestic fluff

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ikingsley · 4 years ago

Text

Ina x MC: Post New Year’s

Summary: Ina and Luna talk about their New Year’s celebrations and future holiday plans.

Warnings: Fluff, some angst.

Tag: @samanthadalton

Author’s Note: A little fic that’s been in my drafts. It’s actually the first fic I’d ever written, but I just decided to publish it (after changing the holidays lol). For context, Ina and Luna are close but professionalism!!!

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Ina sat at her desk staring blankly at the stack of essays she had left to grade. Despite the fact that she had much to accomplish, she couldn’t seem to focus. Her mind wandered freely; she remembered the lively discussion in her Anthro 101 class, her fabulous New Year’s celebration with Lilian and Charlotte...

Her face fell when she realized that her publishing deadline was for the following day. “Crap! Simon’s going to be livid,” she said as she ran a hand through her hair, a manifestation of her stress.

“Good morning Prof!” Luna said cheerily as she entered the office, bringing Ina to the present. The professor looked up quickly, grunted in reply, and continued to pretend to read essays.

Luna pulled out the chair and sat across from Ina, placing two cups of coffee on the desk. “What’s got you so indifferent towards me all of a sudden?” Luna asked. “That’s assuming I was interested in you in the first place,” Ina quipped. “Hilarious. Seriously though. Talk to me, Ina,” Luna replied as she looked straight into Ina’s eyes. She’s drop dead gorgeous, Luna thought silently.

Meanwhile, Ina froze momentarily at the use of her first name. Instinctively, she broke eye contact with Luna and looked around, only to realize that she was accompanied only by her TA in her office. It still amazed her how one night altered her life forever; how could she be so paranoid because of someone yet still be attracted to them?

Ina rose out of her chair and walked across the room. She paced around the bookcase, absentmindedly reading the titles of her collection of books. Luna looked over at Kingsley, noticing her changed form since before break. “You still haven’t answered my question,” Luna reminded her.

Luna was beginning to lose patience with Ina. As much as she tried to get Ina to open up to her, she still felt shut out from Ina’s life. Sure she knew a lot more about Lilian and Charlotte than most students at Belvoire, but then again, she was Ina’s TA. Even though Zoey pleaded with Luna to ask Ina about the status of their ‘relationship,’ Luna couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to further strain their, for a lack of a better term, connection. Did Ina want to be with me or not, Luna thought for the umpteenth time.

Luna was lost in her own thoughts when Ina’s voice brought her back into reality. “I just have so many deadlines to meet,” Ina said wistfully. Her tired eyes stared wearily into Luna’s sympathetic ones. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. You amaze me sometimes, you know,” Luna said with a smile. “Only sometimes?” Ina shot back quickly. Luna chucked softly. “Come on, let’s get through these essays so you can stop giving me sad puppy eyes.”

The two worked in comfortable silence as Kingsley graded the essays and handed them to Luna to put into the grading software. When there ceased to be essays left in the stack, Luna appropriately broke the silence.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice your, uh, new figure,” Luna joked. “Hey! I had a good, satisfying break,” Ina replied defensively. Luna smirked but dropped the topic; she always thought Ina always looked great.

“Well, what’d you do for New Year’s, Professor?” she asked as she made small talk. “It was quite lovely. I was able to see Lilian and Charlotte.” “So what you’re saying is, you entertained Charlotte while Lilian had to do all the New Year’s cooking?” Luna retorted. Even though Kingsley rolled her eyes at her TA, she still had a grin on her face.

“I admit, cooking is a weak spot for me. Either way, I had a wonderful time. Charlotte and I read a lot together,” Ina remembered fondly. That kid’s gonna be the next Marie Curie, Luna thought. Though she admired Ina and swooned over her skills with children, Luna replied cleverly. “Did you make Charlotte suffer through one of your ‘anthropology dictates human life’ tangents?” “Given the fact that you wanted to be my TA so desperately, I wouldn’t complain about my anthropology tangents,” Ina said smugly. Luna could only hold her poker face for a few seconds, but quickly burst into laughter. Ina followed, and their full laughter filled the office.

“Anyway, enough about me. How was your break?” Ina asked. Luna laughed to herself before replying. “Well, I went back to the farm. And it was, well, exhausting. I was home for maybe three seconds before Papa told me I had to go clean the stable.” Ina had to cover her mouth as she cackled. “Talk about a crappy start to the holiday,” Ina remarked. “Stop it,” Luna said rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Luna,” Ina replied innocently. “The dad jokes. They’ve gotta go, Professor,” Luna said. “Never,” Ina said laughing heartily.

Desperately trying to find another conversation topic, Luna blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “I don’t think I could ever imagine you doing manual labor,” Luna said as she poked at Ina’s pride. Ina’s next reply shocked Luna. “Actually, my uncle had a farm in Upstate New York. We’d visit every summer and he’d put Lilian and I to work,” Ina remembered nostalgically. “It’d be nice to see what farm chores I remember from those days.”

Luna and Ina gazed at each other, lost in their own thoughts and frankly, each other’s eyes. Luna loved how open and warm Ina could be if she wanted to. It was one of the main features that attracted her to Ina when they met; she loved how free and light-weight their conversations could be. Luna hated the protective walls Ina put up in the name of ‘professionalism.’ She could only imagine what Ina was thinking at the time, but she knew that Ina couldn’t deny their connection and how much they just clicked with each other.

“Anyways, I’m going back to the farm for the Epiphany soon,” Luna said after their prolonged period of silence. “Oh, that sounds wonderful, Luna,” Ina replied dryly, still lost in her memories.

Luna struggled with her next question to keep the conversation alive. Her brain fought against itself. Should she ask? Should she just leave it as they were? I mean, they did make progress today, did they not? Luna decided to jump in with both feet and shoot her shot. She knew she’d regret it if she didn’t at least ask. Not to mention the fact that Zoey would berate her if she didn’t.

“Ina,” Luna said sternly. “Look at me for a second, seriously.”

Ina sucked in a breath and looked deeply into Luna’s eyes. She had an inclination as to what Luna would ask, but this time, she tried to force herself to not let her walls up. She could hear Lilian’s voice ringing in her head. If what you’re telling me is true, you're falling for her, Ina. You’ll regret it if you lose her, she won’t stick around forever.

Ina trembled with anticipation, and Luna finally spoke up. “I know we’re in a bit of a...umm...confusing place right now. Well honestly, I don’t even know if there’s an us right now.” Luna chuckled as she reached forward and clasped Ina’s hands. “Either way, I’d love for you to come to the farm. For the Epiphany. So you can see how many farm chores you remember from your childhood, of course.” The women smiled at each other fondly. “Really though, we’ve got something I can’t explain, but I know you feel it too.” Ina’s heart throbbed in her chest. Whatever they were, they did have something magical. “I’d love to, Luna,” Ina said tenderly. Luna’s heart filled with joy.

Both women got up from their chairs and met at the halfway distance. Ina’s eyes bore into Luna’s. Luna cupped Ina’s cheek and Ina could no longer hold back. She pulled Luna closer and kissed her passionately. Ina could taste the sweet coffee Luna had just consumed, while Luna tasted Ina’s bitter coffee on her tongue. The two were almost out of breath when Ina’s phone rang. Damn, they both thought, especially Luna.

Just when Luna had finally got through to Ina, she was interrupted. She angrily stole a glance at Ina’s phone, but it was face down.

Ina looked at the caller and shot Luna an apologetic look. “Sorry, I have to take this,” she muttered.

Even though Ina wasn’t whispering, Luna couldn’t focus on the words Ina was saying. Who could’ve interrupted their special moment? she thought fully irritated. It was only when Ina softly touched her should that Luna came back to awareness.

“Luna?” Ina asked as she placed a hand on Luna’s shoulder. “Sorry. Zoned Out. Who was that anyways?” Luna asked inquisitively. She wanted to know who had the audacity to ruin their moment.

“Just Lexi,” Ina replied. UGH, of course, Luna thought. How. DARE. She. “What did she want?” Luna asked. She couldn’t even try to hide her annoyance. “She was just asking about my upcoming paper,” Ina said evenly. “That and trying to flirt with you?” Luna mocked. “Well, I suppose. But she's got nothing on you,” Ina jumped in quickly.

Both women were surprised with Ina’s words. “I-” Ina began but failed to finish her sentence. A flash of recognition passed through Ina’s eyes, and from that moment, Luna knew the answer to her previous question had changed.

“I’m sorry Luna, I cannot accompany you to your home. I just...I can’t,” Ina replied, backing away from Luna, enough so that she could no longer feel the heat radiating from Luna’s body.

“I figured,” Luna said both irately but also heartbroken. Luna began to pick up her belongings, and on her way out of the office, she grabbed what remained of her now-cold coffee and threw it in Ina’s face.

Ina stepped back instinctively, but she agreed that she had fully deserved it. “Wait- Luna!,” Ina sighed. Despite the shock, Ina tried to follow after Luna to explain, but it was futile. Luna stormed out of the office and slammed the door shut.

Ina raked a hand through her hair and kicked her desk angrily. She’d done it again, just like Lilian had told her not to. Why don’t I ever take Lilian’s advice to heart, she thought falling into the armchair, letting out a sob.

#ina kingsley #ina x mc #luna garcia

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magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics · 4 years ago

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Baghdad gone wrong - Request

Request: @green-spotlight I was wondering if you could do a Sherlock x wife! reader one? Where, instead of Mary jumping in front of Sherlock, Reader does, but she survives

Word count: No idea, but it’s long.

Warnings: (Y/N) gets shot.

A/N: HI! Long time no see. I know I always say I’ll come back and then I disappear but it’s just because I need a job and I have to look for it and bla bla bla. Anyway, here it is. This one is fresh, it’s the first fics I’ve written in months (the past ones were kept in my drafts) so I hope you like it and I hope I’m not too rusty for this.

Enjoy!

The London aquarium was quite a flabbergasting experience to anyone who visited. The big tanks filled with different fish, the blue illumination, and the distinctive smell of chlorine made it a rather peaceful place to meditate.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Aquarium will be closing in five minutes. Please make your way to the exit. Thank you.” The voice from the tannoy announced.

Sherlock ignored it and kept going onward along the blue-lit corridors, through the glass tunnels, up until an area with benches for people to sit. There, a lonely woman sat tranquilly.

“Your office said I’d find you here,” he said.

“This was always my favourite spot for agents to meet,” the woman replied. “We’re like them; ghostly, living in the shadows.”

She finally looked at him.

“Predatory,” Sherlock granted.

“Well, it depends which side you’re on.” She turned away to look into the shark thank again. “Also, we have to keep moving or we die.”

“Nice location for the final act. Couldn’t have chosen it better myself. But then I never could resist a touch of the dramatic.” Sherlock cocked his eyebrow, rejoicing in his own skin.

“I just come here to look at the fish,” the secretary said.

How dull she was, how boring. Sherlock was starting to get sick just by the mere existence of that woman. It was obvious to him what was going on, and yet there was no one else to show it off to. Where were his companions? He had texted them not longer than five minutes ago the exact location and they weren’t there just yet.

“I knew this would happen one day,” the secretary continued. She stood up and took a few steps closer to the tank. “It’s like that old story,” she said. She turned to face him.

She was small, just small. She was not a beautiful woman and evidently never had been, she was poorly-dressed, and her whole body expressed how small she was and felt.

It was no wonder to Sherlock why she had done it. She was a nobody, always had been and always would be. She worked for a powerful, beautiful woman who was a constant reminder of how insignificant she was. Of course, she had done it.

“I am a very busy man. Would you mind cutting to the chase?” Sherlock insisted. A rush inside of him needed the whole thing to end quickly.

“You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“With good reason,” Sherlock said precisely. “Unlike you,” he thought.

“There was once a merchant in fa famous market in Baghdad…” The woman started.

Sherlock closed his eyes and lowered his head. It was that bloody story again. What was it with people liking it? Perhaps it was the fact that nobody wants to be entirely responsible for their acts and decide to call them upon fate, or just that dumb believing of superior power. In any case, Sherlock was sick of it.

“I really have never liked this story” he sentenced.

“I’m just like the merchant in the story. I thought I could outrun the inevitable. I’ve always been looking over my shoulder; always expecting to see the grim figure of…”

“Death.” A third voice completed.

(Y/N).

The rush inside Sherlock increased its intensity. She wasn’t supposed to be there, John and Mary were but not her.

She entered the room and stopped a couple of feet away from Sherlock’s side.

“Hello, love,” Sherlock greeted without looking at her.

“Hey,” she greeted back.

“John?”

“On his way,” (Y/N) replied.

“Mary?”

“On her way.” Sherlock shrugged and attempted no to look scattered. She was not supposed to be there. “Who am I looking at?”

“Let me introduce Amo.”

(Y/N) opened her eyes widely. She knew all about that time, Mary had told her just before escaping to try and fix things.

“I can’t say I’m impressed,” (Y/N) said. Sherlock chuckled at the thought of how obvious it was, feeling good that his partner had caught it too. “So you were Amo? You were that voice on the phone?”

“Using AGRA as her private assassination unit,” Sherlock completed.

“Why did you betray them?” (Y/N) grunted. She could be too emotional sometimes. “Do you know what you caused? The people you hurt? Do you know how that ended? WHY DID YOU BETRAY THEM?”

“Why does anyone do anything?” The secretary asked, knowing well what she had done. She didn’t seem to regret a single thing.

(Y/N) was fuming, Sherlock could hear her breathing and was getting ready to stop her in case she tried to punch the secretary.

“Let me guess,” he said in an attempt to control the room. “Selling secrets?”

“Well, it would be churlish to refuse,” the secretary admitted and Sherlock couldn’t blame her. “Worked very well for a few years. I bought a nice cottage in Cornwall on the back of it. But the ambassador in Tbilisi found out. I thought I’d had it.” She looked towards (Y/N) before returning her gaze to Sherlock. “Then she was taken hostage in that coup,” she laughed. “I couldn’t believe my luck! That bought me a little time.”

“But then you found out your boss had sent AGRA in,” Sherlock stated. He finally had an audience to show off with.

“Very handy,” the woman replied in a bitter tone. “They were always such reliable killers.”

“What you didn’t know, (Y/N), was that this one also tipped off the hostage-takers,” Sherlock explained to (Y/N). “Actually,” he said, “I don’t think Mary knows that either.”

The secretary sat back down and rested her handbag on her lap.

“Lady Smallwood gave the order, but I sent another one to the terrorists with a nice little clue about her code name should anyone have an enquiring mind.” She was proud of her doings. “Seemed to do the trick!”

“And you thought your troubles were over.” (Y/N) was furious.

“I was tired; tired of the mess of it all,” she sighed. “I just wanted some peace, some clarity.”

(Y/N) was about to go on and punch the light out of her, but Sherlock stopped her before she had even given two steps forward.

“The hostages were killed, AGRA too…” She looked across to (Y/N), “or so I thought. My secret was safe. But apparently not. Just a little peace. That’s all your friend wanted too, wasn’t it? A family, home. Really, I understand.”

(Y/N) glanced across to Sherlock, but his gaze was fixed on the secretary who lifted her handbag as if in preparation to stand, and rests one hand on the open top of it.

“So just let me get out of here, right? Let me just walk away. I’ll vanish. I’ll go forever. What d’you say?”

“After what you did?!” (Y/N) roared furiously. She once again started walking towards the woman.

“(Y/N), no!” Sherlock yelled. That’s why he didn’t take her to her cases.

In a fluid moment, the secretary stood up, pulling a pistol from her handbag and aiming it at (Y/N), who stopped and backed away.

(Y/N) considered her options for a second before obliging. “Okay.” She moved back to stand at the other side of Sherlock.

The secretary stopped pointing with her pistol and looked at it as if it was a toy.

“I was never a field agent. I always thought I’d be rather good.”

(Y/N) scoffed. She was upset and she knew they were wasting their time by trying to reason with her. She never understood why Sherlock insisted on talking to the criminals first.

“Well, you handled the operation in Tbilisi very well,” Sherlock complimented and (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Thanks.”

“For a secretary.”

(Y/N) and the secretary looked at him with wide eyes.

“What?” The woman frowned.

“Can’t have been easy all those years, sitting in the back, keeping your mouth shut when you knew you were cleverer than most of the people in the room,” he blurted out.

“I didn’t do this out of jealousy!” She defended herself.

“No?” Sherlock smirked. “Same old drudge, day in day out, never getting out there where all the excitement was. Just back to your little flat on Wigmore Street.”

The secretary gaped.

“They’ve taken up the pavement outside the Post Office there. The local clay on your shoes is very distinctive.”

The woman looked down to her dusty shoes. She looked like a rag, no wonder why he thought she was jealous.

“Yes, your little flat.”

“How do you know?”

Sherlock was ready for a quickfire session to kill time and show off to the woman he married. He cocked his head and smirked as if he had already won.

“Well, on your salary it would have to be modest and you spent all the money on that cottage, didn’t you? And what are you? Widowed or divorced?” He focused in on a plain gold band on the index finger of her left hand. “Wedding ring’s at least thirty years old and you’ve moved it to another finger. That means you’re sentimentally attached to it but you’re not still married. I favour widowed, given the number of cats you shared your life with.”

(Y/N) watched the woman closely. She knew that look, that void of fear, that confidence. The woman wasn’t shaking, nor she was feeling vulnerable. No, she was starting to burn in anger. She was a crazy woman who thought she was better than anyone else, of course, she would burn if anyone told her she was anything less than that.

She hadn’t done it out of jealousy, she had done it because she could.

“Sherlock…” (Y/N) warned.

“Two Burmese and a tortoiseshell, judging by the cat hairs on your cardigan,” Sherlock continued. “A divorcee’s more likely to look for a new partner; a widow to fill the void left by her dead husband.”

“Sherlock, don’t,” (Y/N) insisted with a louder tone.

But instead of listening, Sherlock rose his voice ad he got fully into his stride. “Pets do that, or so I’m told, and there’s clearly no-one new in your life, otherwise you wouldn’t be spending your Friday nights in an aquarium. That probably accounts for the drinking problem too: the slight tremor in your hand… The red wine stain ghosting your top lip. So yes. I say jealousy was your motive after all - to prove how good you are...”

The secretary turned to gaze at the entrance as Mycroft walked in.

“... To make up for the inadequacies of your little life.”

The secretary was still looking at the entrance. Inspector Lestrade came in followed by three uniformed police officers.

“Well, Mrs Norbury. I must admit this is unexpected,” Mycroft said, hiding away his true feelings.

“Vivian Norbury, who outsmarted them all,” Sherlock slurred, dripping in sarcasm. “All except Sherlock Holmes.”

He took a step forward, holding out his left hand. (Y/N) and the police officers behind her also stepped forward.

“There’s no way out,” he whispered.

“So it would seem,” Mrs Norbury smiled. “You’ve seen right through me, Mr Holmes.”

“It’s what I do.”

She tilted her head to one side. “Maybe I can still surprise you.”

Swiftly, she brought up the gun and aimed it at Sherlock. Everyone got defensive instantly.

“C’mon,” Lestrade pointed at her, “be sensible.”

Sherlock held his hands out to the side. Mrs Norbury shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

She fired. The bullet headed towards Sherlock who stood there unmoving. (Y/N), who had no doubt anticipated that this was going to happen, hurled herself sideways in front of him and the bullet impacted her lower chest. Blood sprayed outward and immediately there was a large bloodstain on her shirt. Crying out, she fell to the floor against a nearby bench.

“Surprise,” Mrs Norbury said, filled with spite.

(Y/N) rolled over to slump against the back of the bench, gasping in pain. As two of the police officers hurried over to Mrs Norbury to disarm her, Sherlock stared at (Y/N) in shock, then dropped to his knees to press his gloved hand against the wound. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and whimpered.

“Everything’s fine. It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “Get an ambulance!” He commanded, looking round to Mycroft.

“You are such a cock,” (Y/N) whimpered.

“I know,” Sherlock smiled sadly. “But now, dare I say it, it’s not about me.”

“What do I do now, detective?”

Sherlock started checking her frantically just as John ran in. Without asking any questions, he checked her too and laid her down on the floor.

“It’s all right,” Sherlock kept saying, “it’s all right.”

“You can do better than that,” (Y/N) groaned and John kept track of her vitals.

“Like what?”

“Like what about you shut up next time?” Sherlock chuckled and nodded.

“Noted,” he said. “Anything else?”

“If I don’t die…” She started and Sherlock interrupted her.

“Which you won’t.”

“IF I DON’T DIE,” she insisted, “I want you to be more loving towards me.”

“What?” Sherlock frowned and John laughed. “No.”

“Oh, oh, I think I’m losing her,” John joked, “(Y/N), stay with us!”

“Okay, fine,” Sherlock agreed. “But only when we’re alone.”

“That’s not how it works,” John coughed.

“It is how it works!” Sherlock cried.

“It’s not!” Mary laughed and kneeled down next to (Y/N), helping John to keep her stable while the ambulance arrived.

“You two are too nosey,” Sherlock mumbled.

“Loving, you must be loving at all times or I’m going to die,” (Y/N) repeated. She was falling unconscious, so John and Mary urged Sherlock to keep her awake for just a couple of minutes now.

“Okay, what else?” Sherlock asked, “What else, (Y/N)?”

“Breakfast… in bed…” She mumbled.

“I already do that!”

“For me… breakfast in bed… for me,” (Y/N) insisted.

“You are such a cock” John mocked Sherlock.

“Yes, I’ve been told that twice in the last minute.”

Mary laughed and so the paramedics got there.

When (Y/N) woke up, she was surrounded by people. Mrs Hudson, Molly, John, Mary, and obviously Sherlock.

“We’re so glad you’re awake.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Look at you!”

All of them, talking to her nonstop. She only nodded and smiled, not knowing who to reply to first.

Her room was filled with flowers and balloons, and the dim light of midday snuck through the window, making it warm and cosy. She didn’t feel a thing because she was doped, but she faintly knew (by what she could catch hearing at least) that she had gone to surgery.

“I’m glad you’re awake and fine,” Sherlock said after everyone shut up.

“That’s all?” She complained.

John hit Sherlock slightly. The detective rolled his eyes and pulled out little cardboard cards from his pocket. He cleared his throat and started reading in a painfully monotone voice.

“My love, I am delighted for your recovery and I can’t wait for you to come back home to me. I’ve missed having you in my arms, smelling your hair in the morning, and just looking at your… bright, beautiful eyes every day. You are my soulmate, and the thought of losing you was so painful I knew right then and there that I… Nevermind that part, it’s bullshit,” he skipped three cards while everyone else either rolled their eyes or chuckled at him. “You are the love of my life… My best friends… Kiss, kiss, kiss… Er… The message is clear I think.”

“That’s all?” (Y/N) asked again.

Yes, she had technically forced him to date her, and then to marry her, and she had kind of manipulated him to promise her to be more loving, so she couldn’t really complain if he didn’t get it right the first twenty times, but she was the one laying on a hospital bed because he couldn’t get his head out of his own arse!

Sherlock exhaled heavily and looked around. Curious and impatient eyes were all over him, making feel terribly uncomfortable.

“The thought of losing you is unbearable, I was very anxious during your surgery and have been like that up until now that you’ve woken up,” he admitted.

“He also spent the night right here,” Mrs Hudson added. (Y/N) then noticed an unused blanket by the visitor’s sofa.

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson,” Sherlock groaned and gave (Y/N) a cheeky look. “I’m not good with words, but do know that I’d be damned if you, my wife, died.”

“How romantic!” (Y/N) smirked sarcastically. Sherlock eyed her, knowing she was just messing with him.

“I love you, I truly do.”

“And I love you,” (Y/N) said.

Sherlock then walked closer to her and kissed her softly on the lips. “Don’t ever follow me on a case, please.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“Then don’t jump in front of me if I get shot.”

“Better you stop being a massive cock, ey?”

“I can’t promise that.” Sherlock smiled.

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sleekervae · 4 years ago

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The Neighbour [0.5]

Masterlist

As soon as Remington rolled out of bed, he was quick to head downstairs and start setting up for his birthday party. It wouldn't be anything big, it couldn't be, but he would put out some snacks and bottles -- and complimentary sanitizer, obviously. His brother would be coming by later with a cake.

It was a gorgeous day, so Eva took advantage of her small balcony. She sat with her computer and a cup of coffee, staring at drafts she'd practiced on before writing out the best pick in a birthday card. She was in a particularly good mood because her latest article had been approved and her client had just transferred her pay in.

Pluto was lying against the iron bars, pawing at a loose vine of ivy that was clinging to the rail. The early morning was quiet, blissful, and Pluto was pleasantly entertained; until he heard the reverberation of an unfamiliar rumbling. Looking down into the street, a new car came pulling up in front of Remington's house, and out stepped an young man. He rushed to the back seat and pulled out a white box, and a faint yet lovely smell wafted up Pluto's nose.

Eva was too distracted to realize that her cat had long left the vine and hopped down from balcony to balcony, landing in the bushes and stopping in front of the rat poison the landlord had put out. It was inconspicuously placed and the cat was intrigued. Just before he could lick it up, he heard the high-pitched yipping of a little dog. Pepper the pomeranian had come bounding out of the house and was jumping all over the man, her little tail thrumming through the air.

Pluto tentatively approached the sidewalk, looking both ways before she bounded across the street and then crashed into the bushes behind the fence. He slinked through the brush and climbed up the stairs, slipping in just as Emerson shut the front door after his mom came in.

The boys were none the wiser to their feline intruder, too busy helping Sebastian unpack the boxes he had brought with him for the party. Pepper however was the more aware, catching the scent of fish oil and peach shower gel. She trotted through the house excitedly, to which the family attributed to her being excited. Eva was all the more clueless as she typed away on her balcony.

"... there is no way in hell I'm doing the cereal bowl mouth thing again," Remington swore.

"Why not? Think of it as like a christening," Emerson said.

"He's twenty-six, not sixteen," Sebastian said, "Besides, what's mom going to think?"

"Oh, I sent mom the video," Emerson said.

Remington's face flushed, "What did she say?" he asked nervously.

"Couldn't stop laughing her ass off," Emerson smirked.

As the words left his lips, the three of them diverted their attention to Pepper's yipping echoing from the kitchen, followed by a harsh hissing sound. The boys rushed to the kitchen, astonished to find Pluto sitting on their counter, staring down the energetic Pepper who continued to jump up and down, almost as though demanding the cat get down. He was sitting next to the big white box that held Remington's birthday cake.

"What -- Pluto!" Remington went to pick up the pale striped tabby, "That's not for you! Unless it's your birthday too, but I doubt that,"

"How did he get in here?" Emerson asked, scooping up Pepper in his arms.

"Probably slipped in when we had the door open," Remington replied.

Sebastian couldn't help but pat the cat on his head, "Eva's a nice girl, but she needs to keep a better eye on this cat. God knows what could happen to him,"

"He's not so bad," Emerson told her, aweing at the feline, "He's just likes adventure... and terrorizing little doggies,"

"That's right," Remington cooed at the cat, "You just like to stir the pot, don't you, you little furball?" Pluto was content to sit in his arms, paws crossed over each other as he continued to stare at the cake box. Remington swore he could hear him purring for a minute.

Sebastian just smiled, "I think he's got a bit of a sweet tooth,"

Emerson simpered, "We better go get him back to Eva before she freaks out again,"

"I got it," Remington grinned.

Eva was still sitting on her balcony, none the wiser to the mischief her cat was causing as she read through the prose she'd spent the last hour constructing. Remington spotted her immediately; a picture-perfect scene of sophistication and sweetness as she was caught thick in concentration. He had absolutely no qualms about distracting her.

"Hey Eva!" he cupped a hand around his mouth, still, cradling Pluto in the other arm, "I got something for you!"

Eva turned briskly at the sound of Remington's voice, thinking maybe he was trying to pull another joke. However, she was yet again mortified when she saw her cat under his arm. She looked down in disbelief, swearing that Pluto was by her feet not even a second ago. Then she smacked her hand over her forehead.

"For fuck sakes," she grumbled, pushing herself away from the desk, "I'm coming down!"

Not two minutes later Eva emerged from her complex, charging over with clear annoyance written across her face. Remington couldn't help but find her irritation adorable; he fixed Pluto so he was sitting upright and was waving his paw at his mom.

Eva shook her head, "That's it, I'm putting a fucking bell on him," she swore, taking the cat into her own arms, "What did he do this time?"

"I think he was trying to steal my cake," he smirked, "But Pepper defended the territory with great bravery and valiance,"

Eva simpered, just imaging the fluffy pomeranian losing her cat at Pluto, "I'm sure she did. I'm sorry,"

"Come on, don't worry about it. He's not a bad cat," unbeknownst to the two of them, the brothers were eavesdropping from behind the door. Sebastian wanted to go out and say hi, make some conversation, but Emerson held her back. He just wanted to give Remington his moment with her.

"No, he's just out to drive me crazy," Eva grinned, "I'll double lock the doors before I leave tonight. What time is the party again?"

"Sixish. But you can come over whenever, really," Remington shrugged, "If you get lonely or bored,"

"I still got some work to finish up, so we'll see. But I'm looking forward to it," she said. From behind him, they both couldn't help but hear the faint sounds of shuffling and whispers. Remington turned to the open door with narrowed eyes, knowing fully well his brothers were eavesdropping on him.

Eva smirked coyly, "Hi Emerson!" she called.

Knowing he'd been caught, Emerson peaked around the door sheepishly, smiling and waving to his neighbour, "Hey Eva, what's going on?" he said, trying to play off as casual.

Remington shook his head, "What are you doing?" he asked him.

"Nothing," the younger boy shrugged, "We were just uh..." he then looked to his older brother, "Tell her what we were doing, Seb,"

Sebastian rolled his eyes, coming out onto the porch to stand with his brother, "We're setting up for the party. How's things, Eva?"

"Well, I haven't gotten sick yet," she replied.

"That's good to hear," he smiled politely.

From behind the boys, Pluto spotted Pepper standing in the hall. He let out another hiss, to which Eva quickly readjusted his hold and Emerson quickly picked up his dog, putting her deeper within the house.

"Okay, I better get him back home before we break into World War Furball," she said, stepped off the stairs, "I'll see you guys later, though,"

"We'll see you later," Remington smiled. He watched her pass the gate and cross the street, satisfied when she disappeared back into the complex courtyard. Sebastian couldn't help but let out a short chuckle.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he teased, bumping him with his elbow.

Remington glowered back, "Piss off,"

There was a particular chill that ran up Remington's spine as he sat at the counter, eating chips and somewhat listening in on the conversation his friends were having. He knew in the back of his head he shouldn't have to be so anxious, but it was fifteen after six and Eva hadn't arrived yet. He was probably overthinking again, she was probably just trying to finish her makeup or had a hard time figuring out what she wanted to wear. It wouldn't matter to Remington, she looked good in just about everything.

"Earth to Birthday Boy," his friend, Caity, waved her perfectly manicured hand in front of his face and he instantly snapped out of his trance, "Copy if you read us,"

"What's the matter, man?" Michael asked, "You look like you're on another planet,"

"I'm okay," Remington assured them, "I guess it just all feels kinda' weird,"

"I know what you mean," Caity looked around the huge space, where maybe ten to twelve people were inhabiting, talking, drinking some and just trying to get on like everything was normal, "But hey, look at this way: we just get to have an even better birthday bash for lucky number twenty-seven,"

Michael cocked an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure twenty-eight would be the lucky number..." the two of them proceeded to get into a debate about the 27 Club, yet Remington's attention was diverted when he heard the front door click open. He glanced down the hall, and Eva had finally arrived. She was an image to behold in a green and white polka dot mini dress, her wavy short hair straightened and pushed behind both her ears, making her appear younger than she was.

And damn, did she ever look good in green.

She shuffled back and forth in her sandals as she looked around, her face lighting up like a firefly when she spotted Remington coming towards her. He was dressed fairly casual in a muscle tee, skinny jeans, and a pair of really cool boots with gold buckles on both zippers. Sporting eyeliner and a little bit of highlight, he was the epitome of cool and adorable.

"Hi,"

"Hello,"

"You look really nice," she commented.

He smirked back, "Oh, come on. I look like shit compared to you," he told her, stunned at the illusion of her body in that dress.

"I have to disagree," she replied simply, twiddling the twine handles of her paper bag in her fingers. She held out the white paper bag to him, the handle tied off with a bright yet thin strip of ribbon, "Happy birthday. I realized earlier that I didn't say it this afternoon,"

"Thank you," Remington glanced at the bag with a chuckle, "What's this for?" he asked.

"It's your birthday present," she told him.

"Evaaa," he drawled her name, leading her further into the house, "I told you that you didn't have to get me anything,"

"And I feel naked when I show up to a birthday party without a gift," she replied, "Now take the bag, or I'll kick the crap out of you,"

Remington scoffed, finally taking the bag from her, "You wouldn't hit a guy on his birthday, would you?"

"Wanna' test me, Rockstar?" she replied coyly.

"Not really,"

"Right answer,"

As the party progressed on, Eva got on well with Remington's friends and family. She had the pleasure of getting to meet the boys' mom, and she was bashful when Stephanie commented on how beautiful she was. Remington couldn't help but try to keep Eva within his line of sight as much as he could, looking over from other conversations now and again to see if she was fairing well.

At some point he saw her at the bar, her sweet laugh tinkling in his ears as she reacted to something funny Sebastian had said. For a second, Remington could only focus on her smile, the way she'd lit up even more than he thought possible, but grew annoyed when he realized she only did because of Sebastian. But her head suddenly turned and her blue eyes locked with his. Sebastian was too distracted with pouring himself another drink to see Eva pop her tongue out and cross her eyes at Remington. The corners of his lips turned up higher than he thought possible.

When it was time for Remington to blow out his candles, he entered the kitchen in the most Remington way possible: charging down the hall on his scooter and jumping over his punching bag -- he landed perfectly, of course. All his friends and family crowded around to sing happy birthday, the smell of burning wax and hot sugar wafted under his nose as he took it all in. Though when his eyes glazed over Eva, he noted that she wasn't singing. She was smiling, but she didn't sing.

Eva was happy, her cheeks straining from how much Remington's happiness was rubbing off on her. Her heartbeat had sped up a little and she quickly blamed it on the lack of food since lunch and the sudden intake of alcohol. He was like a wild character in a comic book come to life, crazy strange but his heart was forever in the right place, and she couldn't remember what her life was like before she met him. She didn't want to remember what it was because it was boring, drab, thick with little hope and no inspiration.

And Remington was a firecracker bursting with creative stimulus.

The hours ran later and peaked into one in the morning. Some of the older family members had left by now, leaving Remington with his brothers and some of their friends. Someone along the way had grabbed another bottle of tequila and initiated a game of Truth or Drink -- like Truth or Dare except if you refused to answer the question you had to take a straight shot of tequila.

Eva found herself sitting in the backyard, sat back on a patio chair as the peripherals of her vision went slightly blurred. She was provided a red solo shot glass, had her legs crossed together to hopefully hide the fact that she was little chilly. And she didn't feel like walking back across the street just to get a sweater.

"Okaaayyy, I'll go first," Daniel decided, pouring his own shot into his cup, "Seb! What is the biggest lie you've ever told to Larissa?"

The oldest brother suddenly seemed to sober up, while Larissa drunkenly giggled next to him. He warily glanced down at his shot, then at his fiance. Everybody was on the edge of their seat as they waited for Sebastian to play his hand.

"Did he tell you it was bigger than it actually was?" Emerson grinned.

"No, piss off," Sebastian snapped back at him, drawing a deep breath as he looked to his girl, "You know that plaid scarf you got me for Christmas, and you kept asking me why I never wear it?"

Larissa raised a quizzical brow, "Yeah,"

"Well, I guess Mish thought it was a new toy and she got a hold of it and tore it up... and I didn't have the heart to tell you," he admitted.

Larissa's entire demeanour melted, seemingly drunk enough that she wanted to cry for how guilty Sebastian felt for something so meaningless.

"Oh, honey! It's okay! It's just a scarf," she assured him, pressing a kiss to his sharp cheek. Eva's heart cracked a little, finding the pair utterly sweet. Daniel was understandably annoyed.

"Wait, you fucking lied to her about your dog chewing up a scarf? That's it?" he asked in disbelief.

"There's a reason she wants to marry him, Daniel," Caity pointed out, "We all need a man like that,"

Eva simpered under her breath, "Preach," which didn't go unheard by Remington sitting beside her.

"Alright, Sebastian's safe," Andrew chuckled, somewhat endeared by the strange admission, "Choose someone else,"

Sebastian's eyes quickly scanned the crowd of faces, deciding to pick on, "Remington," of course, "Tell the people about your last good time on the tour bus,"

A wave of 'oooh's floated through the air as Remington went beet red, glaring down his brother with an annoyed smirk. Eva crossed her arms over her chest, leaning in close and presently apprehensive for his answer. When he met her gaze, a nervous flush spread through Remington's body; and he instead decided to down his shot.

"Pussy," Daniel snorted.

"I'm sure that's what he was thinking about when he did it," Sebastian grinned.

"I just don't want to gross out the girls, is all," Remington announced.

"He says, though we've been inside that nasty-ass bus," Shy pointed out.

Remington waved it off and picked again, "Emerson, what do you think the most annoying thing about you, is?"

Emerson simply rolled his eyes, "That I'm smarter than all of you put together," he replied smugly.

"Wrong," Sebastian said, "It's that you think you're the smartest, but you still need us to take care of you,"

Emerson was about to make his rebuttal, but after giving it a moment's thought he relented, "Fair enough, actually," he then went on to pick another player, "Eva! Why did you choose not to sing Happy Birthday to Remington earlier?"

Eva's face went hot with small snickers and 'ah's passing through her ears. Remington giggled beside her, she glared pointedly at the smiling drummer.

"You cocky bitch," she said, to which Emerson giggled merrily. She sat up and cleared her groggy throat, "Considering that we're all here having a happy celebration, it wouldn't have been happy anymore if I started singing. Let's leave it at that,"

"Bullshit," Remington said.

"It's the truth," Eva told him, "I can't sing. We weren't all blessed like you,"

"I've never heard you even sing," he said.

"And if I have it my way, you never will," she grinned back. Remington didn't believe her for a second, but he let it go for now.

Remington was adamant to walk Eva back to her door but she refused: telling him that he wouldn't make it back to his own house, he looked so sleepy. So he stood at his porch and watched her disappear into the courtyard, and he smiled when he saw the crack of light flicker from behind the closed curtains of her windows.

In the back of his mind, drunk and exhausted, he had to wonder if he affected Eva the same way she did him? He wondered what she would say if he wanted to...

No, it wasn't the right time. And Eva was still a fairly new person to him, yet when he spoke to her he felt that he'd known her for years.

Stomping up to his bedroom, he passed Emerson's closed door, rolling his eyes at the soft bumps of passion that bounced under the sliver. He rubbed at his bleary eyes as he stumbled into his room and fell down onto his bed, glaring at the couple of gift bags his friends had brought him. They were all bright, colorful and abstract, all except for Eva's in its simple white paper bag.

He took the twine handles and proceeded to pull out the tissue paper and ribbon. Reaching in, he first grabbed a shiny black box, and when he pulled it open he found a bracelet sewn of obsidian beads and gold rings, in its middle the sharp golden head of a dragon. Along with the bracelet came a birthday card, and he laughed at the cover with a line doodle of breasts and its slogan "I Hope Your Birthday is the Tits!!"

He opened the card and found her beautiful handwriting in gel black ink, his vision blurring now and again as he tried to focus on staying awake.

Remington,

I can't remember the last time it was so easy for me to be myself.

And I was surprised that afternoon when you stood at my bookshelf,

With a face like candy floss, soft, pink and happy,

And a heart made of sunflowers and eyes shimmering sweet.

How easy it was for me to like you, appreciate your kindness,

Because I've never had the best run-ins with strangers.

But I'm so thankful that I stumbled into your world,

So happy birthday, from your crazy new neighbour.

All my best,

Eva

-- PS: This is actually really shitty and I know I can do better, but oh well. I'm late now :)

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #band blog #original story #original female character

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

Text

Fireworks

summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t do crowds. He certainly doesn’t do fireworks. But he’d follow you just about anywhere.

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: PTSD symptoms, panic attack, a very sweet bucky

author’s note: So I had no intentions of writing anything for today until I woke up at 6am and had this idea and couldn’t fall back asleep. This fic is shorter than my usual and didnt go through the pretty long drafting/editing period as my other fics, but I hope you like it just the same! ❣️

“Bucky you have to come with us,” you urged light-heartedly, tugging on his sleeve as he kept himself planted on the couch; nose deep in To Kill a Mockingbird, the lasted book on the line of a long list you had written up for him. A smile pulled at his lips, though he made every effort to suppress it.

He allowed his eyes to glance up to you over the top of his book to find you dressed in a red and white striped blouse that tied at your waist, revealing just an ounce of skin above your jean skirt, a red bandana in your hair tied up away from your face, and press on tattoos of Steve’s shield and the American flag on your cheeks. Bucky did his best to hide how endearing he found you.

“It’s Steve’s birthday, too, you know,” you drawled out, pulling out your last resort with a slight whine in your voice as you purse your lips into a frown. Puppy dog eyes and all, even Bucky had a hard time holding his ground.

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff, doll,” Bucky finally admits, setting the book down on his lap. He sent you an apologetic smile, mouth pressed out into a thin line. “You have fun for me, won’t you?”

You eventually nod, though your heart breaks a little every time Bucky shoots you down politely, keeping himself isolated and alone at every opportunity. He hid under the disguise of soft smiles, of wanting to finish his latest read, or the certain knowledge he carried that his presence would only end up being unwanted. He was wrong, and you told him so every time, but Bucky Barnes was a stubborn man.

“Ok Buck. You know where we’ll be if you change your mind,” you reply, careful to hide the hurt in your voice though Bucky picked up on it rather quickly. You brush your hand over his hair, the only person he ever let do that, and retreated over to the elevator to meet the rest of the team.

Bucky watched as you disappeared, swallowing back the guilt in his chest every time he had to say no to you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go, didn’t want to spent time with you, because he did. He latched onto every moment he could get with you. But there was something about large crowds and the Fourth of July particularly that didn’t sit well with him.

He knew you’d stand next to him the entire time, keep yourself at just the right distance away in case he needed an escape or something to ground himself to. You’d done it for him in the few times he had allowed himself to venture out to these public events Stark put together, but it never ended well for him.

He’d either end up having a panic attack in closet by himself after he ran from you in the brief moment your back was turned or he’d have to struggle simply to endure the whispers of Tony’s guests mumbling about whether he deserved to join the avengers after all he’d done and if he was even still human at all. Sometimes he wondered that himself.

Bucky let out a heavy breath. The tower was always so quiet when you were gone. He used to enjoy the quiet. Somewhere, along the line since he met you, that had begun to change.

He missed your laugh as it echoed down the hall, the sweet sound of your voice as you teasing argued with Sam over the last bowl of cereal, the soft patter of your footsteps upon the hardwood floors in the early hours of the morning to make the first pot of coffee.

Bucky tried to concentrate on his book instead of the image of you in the back of his mind, but found he could hardly get past the next page. He chewed on his lower lip, willing himself to at least finish the chapter. You had so many books on his list for him to read and he wanted every excuse to make you smile, and nothing did that quite like when he finished one of your favorite novels and you could finally talk about it with him. The excitement in your face, the passion behind your words; it was enough to make his heart sore.

His concentration was shot.

Bucky groaned, setting the book down on the coffee table, and found himself glancing back towards the elevator.

“No, don’t be an idiot,” he grumbled to himself, getting up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. Even as he poured the water to his glass, brought it to his lips, and drank it dry, he still couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from where you had left.

“Shit,” he cursed, the weight of the realization that he’d follow you just about anywhere heavy on his chest, even if it was to some glorified propaganda style event with a crap-ton of people that were guaranteed to set him on edge.

Bucky set the glass in the sink and stalked off over to his room. A quick glance through his closet and he didn’t seem to have much along the times of America themed attire. His red henley, the only bit of color in a sea of black clothing, sat at the bottom of his laundry basket. Couldn’t be easy for him, could it?

So, he found himself in Steve’s closet. He rummaged through the motorcycle jackets, the white button down dress shirts, the series of navy skin tight t-shirts, until he found the shirt he was looking for. It was a loose fitting, heather blue t-shirt with the Captain America insignia at the center. You had bought it for Steve jokingly after he found out about his merch line.

Bucky pulled the shirt over his head and adjusted the bottom as it sat on the edge of his jeans. He caught a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror and grimaced at how silly he felt. Grabbing his navy bomber and shrugging it over his shoulders to hide the reflection of his left arm, he did his best to exhale away the nerves in his stomach. He shook his head, not giving himself another chance to back out, and made his way to the elevator.

The streets of New York were always busy, but it seemed that everyone was out tonight. Back before the war, Bucky had loved the Fourth of July; the picnics in the park, the celebration of the country he had loved, the hot dogs and hamburgers, the fireworks.

These days, crowds weren’t his friend and the fireworks presented a problem all their own, though he did his best to push that to the back burner for now.

Bucky twisted his way through the upstream of pedestrians, keeping his head down and hands tucked into his pockets to avoid recognition. He wasn’t too far away. He’d only have to spend another few minutes on his own before you’d find a way to help calm him down. He tried to focus on the smile upon your face when you realized he came. The thought alone was enough to make the corners of his lips twitch up.

By the time Bucky found himself in yet another elevator, this time on his way up to the rooftop where he’d be sure to find the rest of the team, his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. The doors parted to an influx of Bruce Springsteen playing over the speakers, the loud chatter of the guests, and the sizzling of the grill to his left.

Bucky stepped out into the crowd, hands clenching in his pockets as he searched for you amongst the sea of faces. He kept himself still, just waiting for the moment you’d come into view, when suddenly a hand clamped down on his shoulder. It nearly set off his defenses enough to rip the arm off whoever laid a hand on him when he turned around to find Steve staring at him.

“Wow, Buck, I didn’t think you’d make it,” Steve grinned, looking him over and his eyes narrowed on his shirt. He lifted an eyebrow quizzically. “Is that my shirt?”

“It’s all I could find,” Bucky grumbled, offering Steve an apologetic glance though he brushed it off rather quickly as he swung an arm around Bucky’s back. Bucky sighed, trying to let himself relax. “Is everyone here?”

“Everyone but Sam,” Steve replied. “He usually gets a cabin out in the woods on the Fourth. You know, to get away from the fireworks and stuff.”

“Right,” Bucky nodded, exchanging a kind of knowing look with Steve.

“Y/n should be over by the bar,” Steve said after a moment, a smirk upon his face letting Bucky know he was fully aware of the reason why he was at this party and it wasn’t for him. He didn’t seem to mind much at all. “Try to have a good time, Buck.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line, the best he could do for right now, as Steve disappeared back into the crowd towards Natasha who was waiting for him by a table with a series of cups standing in the shape of a pyramid and waving a ping pong ball in her hand.

Clenching at his jaw, Bucky turned back to the crowd. It took a moment longer, but then he spotted you standing by the edge of the roof, leaning against the barrier as you sipped from your drink. Bucky found himself smiling, his heart rate already coming back down, before he could realize it. He carefully weaved his way through the crowd until he stood just behind you.

“The city’s real pretty from up here,” he said casually, watching as your shoulders froze at the sound of his voice. You set the glass down on the wall and turned ever so slowly to face him, as if you were worried your ears were playing tricks on you.

The smile that curved up on your lips, the light in your eye, was enough to make Bucky’s knees weak. You shouted his name, half-laughing as you swung your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you as you squeezed him. He chuckled, letting his arms drape over your waist as he caught the scent of your shampoo in your hair.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed giddily, pulling back enough to see his face. He nodded, trying to act more nonchalant than he felt. You ran your hand over his shoulder, somehow still able to sense the tenseness in his muscles even under layers of clothes. “I’m proud of you, Buck.”

“Yeah, well, it was about time I got out of that tower, huh?”

“I’m really glad you did. This’ll be so much more fun now that you’re here!” you replied, grabbing a hold of his hand to drag him over to the table where Steve and Natasha were throwing ping pong balls into plastic cups full of beer. He tried to ignore the jolt in his heart at the feeling of your hand in his. “Come on, Buck! We’re going to destroy Steve and Nat in beer pong.”

An hour later, and you were right. Bucky never missed a shot. Nat had complained that he was a sniper and that put her and Steve at a disadvantage, to which you argued back that Steve was a super solider and Nat was a world class assassin. It all seemed to even out alright when Nat brought up the fact that you were trained by Clint before you were even a Shield agent.

It was coming up on ten o’clock, when the crowd began to gather over by the edge of the roof. Bucky narrowed his eyes, watching as everyone seemed to know what was happening before he did.

“What’s going on?” he asked you as you began to drag him over to the edge of the crowd, standing just enough away that he could still be a part of it with standing too close to the strangers. He appreciated you more than he could ever say aloud.

“Fireworks,” you replied with an excited grin as bright as your eyes.

Bucky swallowed, forcing out a smile, and turned away from you to face the night sky before you could see the panic in his features.

He’d dealt with fireworks before, heard them in the distance on unexpected nights in the tower. They never triggered him into the winter soldier but they did find a way to bring his heart up to a rate that felt like it could pump right out of his chest and onto the floor at his feet, make his breathing so tight he could hardly get air in, and brings thick line of sweat to his brow.

Tonight though, he’d find a way through it, he decided. For you.

When the first one shot into the sky, he had to admit it was beautiful; red and gold sparkled amongst the dark blue of the sky, peppering amongst the stars. He only flinched a little.

The second one was bigger, completely gold in color and it seemed to last for eternity as the colors brushed upon the darkness like tinsel. He tried to focus on the beauty of it, on the ‘ooo’s and ‘aww’s of the crowd, but found that the booming sound settled too deep in his chest. He hadn’t even noticed your hand slip into his.

After a few minutes, he couldn’t even look at the fireworks anymore, unable to find the beauty in the sparkling colors when he was wincing at every thunderous explosion.

A flash of the trenches in France, to the roar of the train, to the bombs that took out his friends in Germany; dozens of images clouded his mind, bringing him far away from the rooftop garden. His chest was aching, heart pounding painfully through his veins, and he found himself stepping back, retreating away from the crowd. He couldn’t hear your worried voice call his name, not with the pounding in his ears.

Bucky couldn’t quite focus on where he was going, breaths catching in his lungs and unable to find air despite the rapid intake of his breathing. He stumbled through the sliding glass doors, searching desperately for a dark space, somewhere isolated, somewhere he could get a grip before someone noticed.

That’s when he felt a gentle tugging on his hand. He couldn’t quite make out what it was, his vision blurring, as his feet led him through the loft. Then, he was ushered into a back room and helped to the bed where his aching legs gave out. The door to the room was closed and the explosions were muffled.

Hands brushed along his thighs, then up the sides of his arms to cup at his face. He was breathing too fast, becoming light-headed in the effort, but somehow he could still catch sight of you standing cautiously over him, worry etched in your features as your thumbs brushed against his cheekbones.

“Bucky, I need you to breathe,” you said calmly, offering him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. He nodded, doing his best to follow your request. Your hand swept over his hair, pushing it behind his ears. “You can do this, sweetheart. Here, try and breathe with me.”

Bucky watched as you took in an exaggerated breath, letting your chest raise as you inhaled, held it for a moment, and exhaled with your whole body. You nodded for him to try and he reached out to grab onto the fabric of your shirt by your waist, bunching it into his hands just to find something to hold onto.

He took in a breath, though it was shallow, it was more than he had a second ago, and he let it go.

“Good. You’re doing so well, Bucky,” you praised, nodding encouragingly for him to try again. You took in a deep breath yourself and Bucky followed, focusing on the gentle hue of your eyes, how you watched him struggle to breath without an ounce of pity, with only a sea of adoration and sincerity.

Slowly, he began to find his breath again. Though his lips felt numb and his head was a little dizzy, his heart came back to a normal pace and you let out a sigh of relief. He barely registered you leaning forward to kiss his forehead before you sat next to him on the bed.

“Sorry, doll,” Bucky said after a long moment of silence. He winced it his own voice as it came out, breathy and rough around the edges.

“Oh, no, please don’t apologize,” you shook your head quickly, turning to face him. “I should have never pressured you to come. I should have realized the fireworks would affect you like this. We could have gone somewhere like Sam does...”

“You’d do that for me?” Bucky asked, genuinely shocked.

“Of course,” you said, as if it were obvious, as if it didn’t make Bucky’s heart skip a whole beat. “Maybe next year? I think we’re safe before the next round in an hour. If we head out now, I can have FRIDAY can soundproof your room and we can catch up on the next show on your list. What was it again?”

“Parks and Recreation,” Bucky replied, a smile upon his face.

He couldn’t seem to fathom how you had stumbled into his life and took on his burdens so willingly. It was a constant effort to remind himself that he was allowed to enjoy the small things, like reading with you on the couch and watching tv through the early hours of the morning, that maybe he deserved to find happiness.

“Oh right! That’ll be a good one,” you giggled, tugging on his hands to help him back to his feet. “I’ll text Steve so he knows we’re heading out. He’ll understand if we don’t say goodbye. No need to get back out into that chaos huh?”

You really thought of everything.

Bucky could only nod, too caught up in how much his heart had begun to swell. A blush in his cheeks as you took his hand in yours, so casually, like it didn’t mean the entire world to him, and led him back to the elevator. You didn’t let go the entire walk back to the tower.

Even as you helped weave him through the sea of people bumping into his shoulders that would have normally set him off, your cautious glanced back to him and the gentle squeeze in his hand was enough to keep him grounded. He found that he didn’t much mind the crowds, didn’t mind much of anything at all.

Not when he was with you.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #my writing #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #tw: panic attack #tw: ptsd

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years ago

Text

Ink

Consider this like a future snapshot in the Get Down timeline, all the way up into current times. The reader (our same trans reader from You Send Me) has kept up the poly monogamous relationship with the band, as well as working as part of the road crew in addition to various freelance work in the downtime between tours. In this particular captured moment, it’s Roger to the rescue to give the reader a few moments of relaxation.

Also, written a bit because I’m in love with his tattoos, and would die to have a chance to talk ink and the stories behind them with him.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The agreement was fairly simple; Roger split his time as he wanted and as he was able between yourself and Sarina, more often with Sarina. It worked out well though, since you spent a great deal of your time on various tasks for your own career, writing for yourself and others and for the various freelance assignments you took on whenever Queen didn’t need you for tours.

But on occasion, nights like tonight were good.

Sarina had texted you to let you know he was on the way, but it was still faster than you expected that your doorbell rang.

“You need a break,” he said as he walked inside, and took stock of your less-than-clean flat. “Have you done anything aside from work in the last few days?”

You tried to casually tuck away the pile of first, second, third, and onwards handwritten drafts that were stacked messily on the floor near the couch. “Of course I have!”

He gestured to the basket of clean laundry in the hall. “You do know laundry doesn’t count, right? That’s just different work.”

“It’s necessary work, like the writing,” you protested weakly.

“Right,” he said. “But have you sat down and done...nothing? Watched a show, taken a breath, relaxed?”

You shrugged. “How important is that answer, really? How about I get us something to drink, and you sit down?”

“With that, you made it even more important,” Roger replied. “What about food?”

“No,” you muttered weakly, but he was already at the fridge. “In my defense, I have a lot of rice, and it has to be eaten up eventually...”

“Dinner, a movie, and relaxing,” he said, shutting the fridge door, shaking his head at the lack of contents in it. “Those are your only goals for tonight, alright? No arguing with me.”

“I don’t argue,” you said.

He smirked. “Really?”

You opened your mouth, then paused. Any rebuttal was just that-arguing. And you truly didn’t want to argue with him. It wasn’t that relaxing sounded bad, but all the same, you had work to do, and the flat could seemingly never be clean enough-

His hands slipped to your waist and interrupted your train of thought. “You aren’t saying anything, but you’re doing it now, that thing. Where you want to argue, but you don’t, and there’s one hundred other ‘buts’ in your head, running at a million miles a minute. Let yourself stop for the night, take things one minute at a time.”

You nodded, but he laughed. “Your laptop is still on, isn’t it?”

“In my room. I’ve got I don’t know how many things open right now, for work, and then just for myself, and a coworker needed help on something and I couldn’t say no, you know how it is-”

“Go turn it off,” he interrupted, and gave you the gentlest push towards your bedroom. “Go on. Then you come back out here, and we’re figuring out dinner. Actual dinner, real food, not rice and whatever sauce you’ve had in the cupboard for the last year.”

“It was only six months old!” you shouted down the hall. “And I froze the left overs, so it lasts that long!”

“You’re lucky you aren’t sick!” came his reply, and you knew he was at least slightly right. In theory, most things kept decently when frozen, but leftover sauces like alfredo maybe weren’t meant to be in that category. Or used with rice, for that matter.

You saved your various drafts as quickly as you could, your laptop fans whining and hot to the touch, and attempted to spruce up your bedroom before heading back out to him.

He had laid himself on your couch, the stack of drafts retrieved from where you had shoved them almost underneath it, a few pages of them in his hands. “These are good. Just because, or for something else?”

“Someone else,” you said. “A commission that I’m behind on, actually. It needs work.”

“I think maybe you need to take your eyes off of it for a few days,” he said. “Because to me, who has literally never seen it before, it’s good. And you know I don’t toss that out for everything.”

You shrugged. “It’s getting there.”

He sighed. “Come lay down. Come on, look at you. Tense as can be, tired. The world won’t end if you lay with me for the next ten minutes.”

You settled down beside him on the couch, and tried to relax, to stop the constant running tally of things you needed to start, needed to finish, needed to fix so that they could be considered finished.

“I can feel your heart speeding when you’re overthinking things,” he whispered. “Just a few seconds, for me. Think of nothing.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” you admitted.

“Then think of something other than work,” he said. “What about the last time all of us went to Japan, hm?”

“That was nice,” you hummed. “Busy, but what tour isn’t?”

He nodded. “In particular, I’m thinking of the afternoon you fell asleep in the garden of that house we rented. Do you remember that?”

“Vaguely,” you smiled. “I was so out of it the rest of that night though. But it was a really good nap. Not too warm or too cold, and the rain...”

“I won a decent amount off of Adam with that,” he chuckled. “He was so sure the rain would be the thing to wake you up. I told him that was a bad bet to make; he was so confident though...ah well. He’s learned now, hasn’t he?”

“That I can sleep anywhere if I’m tired enough?” you asked, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Yeah,” Roger smiled as your fingers traced the lines of the tattoo on his arm. “Speaking of...what’s a round estimate of the hours you’ve slept in the last week? Fully slept, I mean, not interrupted by work or anything else.”

You held up a hand.

“Five?”

“Give or take a few,” you mumbled.

“Jesus,” he sighed. “You know, you can sleep now. Dinner can wait.”

“But you’re probably hungry, and if you give me a minute-”

He shushed you, and his other hand dropped over your eyes. “Rest, old man.”

“I’m not old,” you protested. “I’m younger than you by a bit, and you aren’t old.”

“I’m not old?” he laughed. “I’m certainly not young.”

“You’re always young to me,” you murmured. “All of you. Freddie and Jim too, if they were still here. Young and ready to get into trouble. Just because your hair has gone white or gray, doesn’t matter. All I see are those young men, somehow made of boundless energy and talent and intelligence, who I could keep up with on a good day if I made an effort.”

“That makes you young then too,” Roger said decisively after a moment. “Family might argue with us some on this-”

“Young people that haven’t gotten old enough to understand this yet,” you interrupted. “They’ll learn.”

“You say that,” Roger said, and you felt him slip his arm from under your neck as he got off the couch. “And yet you still don’t eat enough, or sleep enough, or take enough breaks.”

“I’ll learn eventually too,” you muttered, eyes still shut, aching back curled against the couch to fill the open space he left. “Are you coming back? I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t come back.”

“I think you’ll be able to,” Roger said. “But yes, I will.”

---

He didn’t keep his promise, but the scent of warm food made you forgive him.

“I thought this might be a decent alarm clock,” he said, helping you up off the couch despite your protests. “Pizza, because then I know you’ll have leftovers to eat for the next few days.”

“If you send Sarina over here with food-”

“I don’t send her, she sends herself,” he said. “You know that. Like it or not, everyone keeps their eye on you when they can. Hell, if I sent a group message out to everyone now, you’d probably end up with food for weeks.”

“Oh lord, please don’t,” you said. “It would be very sweet, don’t get me wrong-”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted. “But then they’d worry over you and you don’t like it when people worry over you. I won’t, but you might get another pizza sent to you randomly next week.”

“Randomly? And anonymously too, I’m sure?”

“Well I don’t know if Brian would tell you or not that he was doing it, but he might, if only to tell you that I told him to send you one,” Roger grinned.

You shook your head. “You’re all ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculous out of care for you,” he replied. “And there’s nothing you can do about it!”

The to do list that had been wracking your brain slowly melted away as you ate, and if he had asked, you would have had to admit that you did need this. To have someone dear to you there, with good food and time to rest.

After, when the food had been put away and a random show turned on your TV for background noise, you lay again with him.

This time, in your room on your bed, your head on his shoulder, one hand tracing the lines of his tattoos again.

“Never told you much about these, have I?” Roger mused.

“No. But I’ve never sat down and told you all about any of mine,” you replied. “I mean, I told you all when I was getting them or what it might look like. But I don’t think we’ve ever had any sort of intensive meeting about the stories behind them, or any of yours.”

“We ought to,” he said. “I know I’m not normally one for it.”

“I have to admit, I didn’t think I’d ever hear you wish for something like that.”

“But...I don’t know. Would be nice. I mean, some of those you got before you met up with us, so we really have no idea the story behind them. Though I’m starting to think you just like toying with mine!”

“I can stop,” you said, your finger stilled where it was on his hand.

He shook his head. “I like it. But I’ve never seen you do that with anyone else, not any of the boys you met up with after you and Freddie cooled down that had tattoos.”

“None of those boys were all that good,” you tutted as you resumed your tracing. “Or worthy of something that intimate. Freddie always told me I had a habit of getting carried away with the first cute thing I saw, then being frustrated when they weren’t interested in anything more stable. He was right, and he knew it, but I should have told him so more.”

“He knew, even if you didn’t say it,” Roger said. “Or you wouldn’t have been in his circle of friends, or kept on as road crew. You know that just as well as I do. He didn’t suffer a fool, and he knew you were up to the work of being his friend, and friends with all of us.”

“Do you think he’d have any?” you wondered. “By now? Maybe of the cats, if anything...”

“I don’t know for sure,” Roger said. “He didn’t much like things like that, doctors and dentists and all of that, unless it was necessary for his health. But then again, you don’t much like those things either, and you’ve got some. Maybe you would have convinced him, or I could have gotten him to my artist.”

“Just a bunch of old ladies, covered in ink,” you sighed.

“Excepting Brian and Deaky,” Roger said. “Now that would be the real test for you. Could you convince them to get something done?”

“Make it a band and crew bonding thing,” you replied. “We could all get one, something to symbolize touring so long. So many years, so much hard work. I don’t know exactly what, but I figure if we could make Freddie feel comfortable with it, he could help us convince the others. Adam as well; I think he could easily talk us all into something like that.”

“Maybe we’ll have to do that anyway,” Roger said. “We have time to think on it, at least. Figure out a design, offer it up to anyone on the crew who wants to get it with us.”

“Brian might just agree to it then,” you said. “But Deaky? I wouldn’t want to bother him, but I’d feel bad not offering it to him as well.”

“He’s never gotten mad at us for messaging him about sillier, lighter things,” Roger said. “At worst, he would ignore it and not answer, and that would be answer enough. Who knows? He might surprise and reply back with a picture of the design done. After all, what have we all got to lose at this point?”

You let his arm wrap around you and pull you close, and tried not to think about that, about the fears that occasionally raced through your mind as to what exactly you had to lose, what they all did, what everyone did, with the state of the world.

“Nothing except some blank canvas,” you replied. “And I don’t know about you, but I think I’d like to die absolutely covered. Not a square bit of free skin.”

“You’ll have to learn to take breaks then, so we can keep you going long enough for that,” Roger said. “Now, I’m simply too tired to go back home, and I daresay I might be too tired for the next few days...”

“Sarina told me you were spending the next week with me, to keep an eye on me and make sure I eat and sleep or whatever,” you smiled. “You can be tired with me.”

“And you’ll actually rest, and relax?”

“For you? I could manage it,” you replied. “Thank you, Roger. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that,” he smiled. “It’ll be thanks enough to hear you snoring.”

“I do not snore!”

“Arguing that since 1978,” Roger tutted. “There’s no shame in it, it’s very cute.”

You groaned and pressed your face into his chest. “I’m snoring extra loud, just for that.”

“And you’ll make me all the happier,” Roger laughed.

You couldn’t be sure if you actually did snore or not, but you were confident it was the best sleep you had gotten in weeks.

The food helped, and the break, but more than anything, you knew it was Roger’s presence that let you finally rest.

And that was why your next tattoo would be something for him, and you were going to be sure to let him know.

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic #roger taylor fic #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x trans reader #roger taylor x male reader

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maraudersandlily20 · 5 years ago

Text

The Aftermath

(HEY! I haven’t written anything in 1800 years, but I have this old draft that I’ve cleaned up and figured I’d post. And I’m dedicating it to the beautiful and lovely and SUPER talented Ash, @ashes-and-ashes-dust-and-dust . She has put up with me and my incessant need to read fic the last two days and I just really wanted to show my appreciation for her. So here’s some angsty fluff for you, Ash. I LOVE YOU!)

~~~~~~~

Sirius had never been more quiet. It was almost insane to the other boys how little they saw of him. After he had made a huge apology to everyone, he had stood in front of everyone as if awaiting judgement. It came in the silence of his friends. Remus could barely look at him, and so Sirius understood the message. He wasn’t wanted.

Remus hadn’t thought that Sirius would be so good at avoiding them, considering his loud personality. But somehow, he managed it. He stopped sitting with them during class, instead residing at a table at the back, if he attended class at all. He never slept in their dorm room. They never saw him in the great hall for meals. He didn’t study with them or plan pranks with them. He asked to serve detention alone, so as to not have to see the other boys. It seemed like he hadn’t uttered one word in over a month. It was almost like they had invented their Sirius Black and the illusion was finally coming to a grinding halt.

And it was driving Remus mad.

He was mad that Sirius had suddenly disappeared. He was mad that Sirius had put them in the situation in the first place. He was mad that he still looked for him and breakfast, lunch, and dinner and he was mad when he saw no signs of him. He was mad that he was serving detention alone. He was mad that he had seen more of Regulus in the last month than his brother. But most importantly, he was mad because he missed him.

The other boys couldn’t understand it. It seemed to be all or nothing with them, which made perfect sense to Remus. When he asked James where Sirius was, usually without thinking, James would give him a confused look and reply that he had no idea. He was trying to be a good friend and stay out of their business, but that could be frustrating when he had no idea what Sirius was doing. He was grateful they had taken his side and supported him, but he could almost feel the tension between the three of them, the elephant in the room always being that there was one part of them missing. James looked ill almost every night as he stared at the empty bed to his right. Euphemia and Fleamont were constantly writing him, asking how everything was, and he never how to answer them. Peter often started a sentence that only Sirius would know the answer to. But Sirius was never there to answer it.

The girls had also supported him. They hadn’t fully understood what had happened, but no one pushed him to explain. They simply knew that Sirius was no longer welcome among them.

It was an almost instant transition that hurt him more than he’d ever care to admit.

With Sirius’ disappearance, the map had also vanished. Almost like he didn’t want to present a temptation to anyone and he wanted to guarantee that no one would talk to him unless Remus had agreed to it.

Remus was tired. He was tired of feeling hurt and betrayed and small. He was tired of all of it. It was eating him up every minute of every day until he felt like he was going to go mad. He simply couldn’t focus on anything anymore, especially not his school work.

Lily sat beside the fire, her chin in her hands, as she watched Remus struggle to get a sentence to flow from his quill. Eventually, he threw the parchment and quill down and collapsed into his hands. She sighed. It was terrible to watch her friend suffer so terribly. And with how attached he and Sirius were, she could only imagine the pain the Black boy was in.

“Have you talked to him?” she asked softly, hoping not to stir up trouble.

Eyes tired, Remus looked up at her flatly. “No. I wouldn’t even know where to find him. And that’s IF I wanted to talk to him. Which I don’t.”

She almost smiled. Same old Remus. “Don’t you see him every night?”

Remus shook his head. “He doesn’t sleep in our dorm room anymore.”

“Classes?”

“He’s moved seats. And he hardly seems to be going to class at the moment anyway.”

Lily perked at that. Sirius was doing much worse than she thought. No one saw him and he had completely isolated himself. If she knew anything about him, it was that his abandonment issues must be almost paralyzing at this point.

“You really haven’t seen him?”

“Have you?”

She thought for a second and shook her head. “Marlene laid into him pretty thick after the… incident. He’s steered clear of us since.”

Remus looked miserable. The whole situation had been terrible and now he was likely losing his best friend. He couldn’t understand why Sirius had done what he did and hated him for it, but he was almost aching to see him as much as he despised the very idea.

“Maybe… maybe you should find him. At least, find out where he’s sleeping?”

It was a good idea. One that he had considered multiple times but had never followed through. However, he didn’t want to have a group intervention and make Sirius face all of them, because even though he was mad, he didn’t want him to feel attacked by his friends. Peter was with Mary and James was at practice, so if there was ever a time to find him alone, this seemed like a pretty good option.

With a sign, he pulled himself to his feet and shook his head. “This is a mistake.” he grumbled, making Lily laugh.

“Just, make sure he isn’t sleeping in the astronomy tower, will you?” He waved at her as he exited the portrait and began making his way through the numerous corridors that he thought Sirius might be in. Every turn was like an old chapter in their friendship, a book he had tried to put on the shelf and had failed terribly at as memories bombarded him one after the other. The place that they had pulled one of their famous pranks. The place that Sirius had hexed a slytherin so badly that the boy never went near them again. The bench where they had laughed so hard that Remus had fallen over. The hallway where Sirius had almost kissed Remus… almost.

Sirius was everywhere.

But he was nowhere to be found.

After about an hour looking, Remus was ready to give up. He wasn’t sure what to do about it. He had gone through as many options he could think of that Sirius would spend his time, to no avail. At the end of this length search, he hung his head. He had really hoped to find him. He was just turning back to go to the common room when suddenly, he found himself at the doors of the hospital wing. He had an ill feeling in the pit of his stomach, but there was something pulling him forward. He didn’t know why Sirius would be in here, of all places. But he had to try.

With a deep breath, he pulled the door open and was met with the sight of rows of beds on either side. Some had occupants, but none had the familiar black mane that he loved and had many times wished he could run his hands through.

Poppy walked toward him, a worried expression on her face.

“Mr. Lupin, I wasn’t expecting you for another week and a half or so. Is everything alright? Are you unwell?”

He laughed and rushed to reassure her. “No Poppy, nothing like that. I feel great. I just… I was wondering if Sirius was here.”

Understanding passed her eyes and she gave him a sympathetic smile. “He’s not here right now, but he spends most of his afternoons here, yes.”

This startled Remus. “Really? Doing what?”

“He cleans, mostly. He changes the bedsheets, mops the floors, wipes down the windows. Whatever I ask of him, he does. I have insisted more times than I can count that he needn’t worry or exert himself, that we can use magic just as well. But he insists that he enjoys the labor. It gives him time when he doesn’t have to think.”

Remus could only nod at this. He hadn’t expected Sirius to spend any time in the hospital wing at all. But when someone was desperate to stay away, anything would do.

“Is he coming here today?”

Poppy shrugged. “I’d assume so. Lunch is just about over, so I’m sure he’ll leave the kitchen soon.”

He felt his eyes bulge. “The kitchen?” He clarified.

“Yes, of course. He decided that the best way to spend his meal times was to help the house elves in the kitchen. He cooks and cleans with them during meals. Dumbledore allows it, I suppose out of pity. But no matter how much I insist, he still doesn’t eat much. Says he has no appetite. Poor thing. I know things are difficult for him now, for all of you. But it hurts to see him so.”

Poppy seemed to be a well of information that kept on giving. “Poppy, does he go anywhere else?”

“The library, I’d assume. He’s recieved permission from numerous professors to simply get his homework, which he completes in the library. It’s odd. They have been very accommodating. And still, Sirius thrives, as he always has. The brilliant boy.”

“Anywhere else?”

“No,” Poppy said, gathering her supplies and heading away. “He’ll be around soon, if you’d like to wait for him.”

Remus did want to wait for him. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea that Sirius was spending his days cooking and cleaning and doing laundry. It almost seemed unrealistic. He meandered his way over to one of the armchairs by the windows, where patients could sit and get fresh air, wondering what he was going to say to Sirius when he came in. The chair was an out of the way spot that wouldn’t easily be noticed. He sat and waited, listening to the clock behind him tick away the seconds. After about 20 minutes, the door swung open to reveal the boy himself.

Sirius looked terrible. Well, terrible for Sirius, that was. He still looked stunning, but there was a weight around him that couldn’t be dismissed. He had dark circles under his eyes and appeared to have lost a bit of weight, making him even skinnier than he had been. His hair was pulled back into a knot at the nape of his neck, and he wore a long sleeved shirt, despite the warmth of the room. He walked with purpose to where Poppy was treating a new patient.

Remus watched with curious eyes, wondering if Poppy would tell Sirius of his presence, but Sirius didn’t turn to him. Instead, he grabbed a large hamper and began stripping the sheets off of the beds. It was at this time he pushed up his sleeves and revealed the layer of bandages underneath. His skin looked almost as pale as the white of the wraps where it peaked out. Remus couldn’t help but worry and wonder what had happened.

Sirius finished an entire row of beds and was almost entirely through the other side when he caught sight of Remus in his chair. He stopped dead, eyes wide with horror. For a moment, it appeared he had stopped breathing.

Remus was unsure of what to do. He wanted to talk to Sirius but he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to strangled him and embrace him all at the same time. He was full of conflicting feelings.

Sirius stayed frozen, panic filled him and he wondered if Remus was there to give him a hex. If he was, he was grateful he was already in the hospital wing.

When neither boy made a move toward the other, Sirius swallowed thickly and returned to his chore of stripping the beds. When he reached the last mattress, pulling the fabric off of it and shoving it into the hamper, he was almost close enough for Remus to touch him. He didn’t.

Sirius quickly walked back toward Poppy, depositing the bag to the side where it would be taken to be washed. He murmured something to the head nurse who immediately waved him off. Without looking at Remus again, he walked briskly toward the main doors, pulled them open, and then disappeared.

Remus shot up and followed him. He raced behind, trying to guess where he would go. He wasn’t expecting him to head up the astronomy tower, and Lily’s words of hoping he wasn’t sleeping there filled his mind. They must have gone up three flights of stairs before it opened up to a balcony, where Remus grabbed Sirius’ arm to pull him to a stop.

He barely registered the wince that covered his face before Sirius yanked his arm from his grip. He turned to face him and the silence between them was thick with unsaid words. Sirius was apparently determined to not be the first one to speak, so Remus let out a sigh.

He ran his hand nervously through his hair before staring into Sirius’ eyes and let out a breathy, “hello”.

Sirius only nodded.

“I, uh… I wasn’t sure where to find you. It seems like it’s been ages since you’ve been in the gryffindor tower. Lily suggested that maybe you were sleeping up here.”

Sirius shrugged.

“You must have taken the map with you, because I’m pretty sure James has tried to find you on numerous occasions and can never find where the map went.”

Sirius said nothing, his eyes tracking Remus’ every movement, like a spooked animal unsure of its’ safety.

They stared at each other for a beat before Remus felt concern fill him. “Wait, you’re not sleeping up here, right?”

A head shake.

Remus felt his frustration grow. “Come on, Sirius. Talk to me. I came here to talk. I’ve spent hours looking for you so we could talk. I want to talk to you. So, will you please say something?”

Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed. “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.”

The dark haired boy looked at his feet, as if struggling to decide what to say before he looked up and said, “nice weather we’ve been having.”

Remus glared. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

The air between them seemed to heat up with the tension that came alive at his words and Remus could feel it, stretched thin between them, as if it were about to snap.

Sirius shrugged again. “I don’t have anything else we need to talk about.”

“Oh really? Because I haven’t seen you in a month, we never know where you are, you’ve basically erased yourself from campus without ever coming around. It feels like we have quite a bit to talk about.”

“We really don’t.”

“Yes, we do, Black.”

“Why? We’ve managed to go a month without talking, Lupin. I figured the silence said enough.”

Remus snorted. “Well you haven’t exactly been around to break the silence.”

“That’s what you wanted!” Sirius exploded finally. “That’s what all of you wanted! I couldn’t get three sentences out without someone telling me I had ruined everything, that I had hurt you, that I couldn’t be forgiven. And when I tried to explain or apologize, you all said it wasn’t good enough. That it wasn’t sincere. That it didn’t change anything! And you were all right. I knew that. I KNOW that. Everyone stopped listening to me, so I didn’t have anything to say anymore.”

“You’ve been stewing in your own self pity for a month and never gave anyone a chance to question that. You just disappeared!”

“You all disappeared! You vanished right before my eyes. My friends, my… my family.” Tears filled his eyes that he tried to fight back. “You all hated me. And I know you had good reason and I know that I deserved all of it. But I have been around people who hated me my whole life, Remus. You can’t expect me to stay.”

“We never hated you,” Remus shot back. “We were-” he stopped, trying to calm himself, before continuing; “I was upset because of what you did, but we all just needed time.”

Sirius wrapped his arms around himself. “Time doesn’t fix anything. You know that.”

“So, what, you were just planning on hiding in the kitchen and the hospital wing for the rest of your life?”

“Working distracts me.”

“That’s cowardly, Sirius.”

His eyes shot up to his, anger coloring them. “I know. You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t hate myself for not feeling safe to sleep in our dorm room? You think I don’t despise the fact that I can’t go to class without wanting to shrivel into a ball and never crawl out? You think I don’t know that spending my meal times in the kitchen isn’t going to get me anywhere? I know! I know what it is; what my life is now. And I think it’s time you knew it too. So, come on, Remus. Just say what you came here to say. That I’m a coward, a fake, a monster, a backstabber, a two faced traitor. Come on. Just say it.” Remus stared at him, wide eyed as he vented, most likely the longest thing he’d said in the past 30 days. He was unsure of what to do. Sirius watched him struggle with himself before exploding again, “ SAY IT!” Remus startled at that, taking a step back. But still he said nothing. Sirius’ shoulders sagged and he turned away from him. “Then just leave me alone.”

Silence flooded between them, Remus watching all of the fight drain out of the boys body, and he felt his heart beginning to break. This was the hardest silence he had ever had to experience.

“I can’t do this anymore, Rem,” Sirius whispered, the tears beginning to streak down his face. “I can’t pretend like not seeing you, not talking to you, not making you laugh isn’t killing me. Okay? I can’t exist in your world when you hate me so much. I can’t. I just can’t. Please don’t fault me for that. Please don’t make me feel more guilty now, just because I’m trying to do what all of you wanted. I want you to be happy. And I ruined that for you. I’ve only ever ruined that. So please… please don’t make me try to explain or justify my actions. I can’t. I don’t want to. I hurt you. I hurt everyone. That was my decision and I’m paying the consequences for that. And it’s easier to do that alone. I don’t know what else you want me to say. I can’t spend my entire life feeling guilty. I know I made a mistake. And I’m so sorry. But you have to leave me alone now. Okay? It’ll just be easier for everyone.”

Sirius made to move around him, but Remus grabbed onto his arm tightly to stop him. When Sirius winced in obvious pain, Remus let him go as if he had been burned. He hadn’t meant to hurt him but then remembered the thin bandages that he had wrapped around his arms. Without a word, he took his arms and began unwrapping them to reveal the skin underneath.

When the skin was revealed beneath the wrapping, Remus sucked in his breath. There were long, deep criss crossed lines that littered his arms, red and tender looking. Some were backed by large bruises. Remus looked up at Sirius in horror, asking with his eyes what had happened. Sirius shrugged.

“I have found that fighting for you is much easier than fighting with you. I seem to be able to pick a fight with Slytherins now just by looking at them. It’s fine, really. Just a bit of lacero. Nothing I can’t handle.” he whispered.

“Sirius,” Remus replied just as quietly, feeling that familiar pull toward the Black boy, wanting to wrap him up in his arms and never let go.

Sirius tugged his arm away from his grasp and began winding the cloth around his skin once again. When the cuts were hidden, he crossed his arms over his chest and refused to look up at Remus.

“Were you ever going to come back?” Remus finally asked.

Sirius shook his head. “You didn’t want me anymore. I’ve had to live with people who didn’t want me my whole life. I couldn’t do it again.”

“Sirius-”

“No, Remus.” He stops him and holds his hand in front of him, as if stopping whatever assault is about to come his way. “It’s okay. I’m not saying this for you to feel bad for me. You have every right to be angry. You deserve to be angry. You deserve to hate me. I would hate me, if I were you. I hurt you in ways I can never take back and I’ll just have to live with that. But I can’t live surrounded by people who make me feel the way my parents always did. So, please. Please don’t worry about me anymore. I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Silence. As if the words were covering the both of them just by being said.

“W-what?”

“I don’t want you to be okay by yourself, Sirius. I don’t want you to hide in the library or the kitchen or the hospital wing. I don’t want you to not speak to anyone for days on end. I don’t want you to do this,” He held up his arm gingerly, “by looking for unnecessary fights ever again. I don’t want that.” He took a step closer and tried not to burst into tears. “I want to know where you fall asleep every night. I want to know how your day was. I want to hear funny stories you figured out from your muggle history books. I want to make sure that you’re eating enough, which it’s pretty clear you haven’t been. I want to spend happy days with you so that I don’t have to remember the bad ones. I want you to earn my trust back. I want you to prove to me that you’re never going to do anything like that ever again. But you can’t do that if you disappear.”

Sirius was crying in earnest now as Remus framed his face with both of his hands. “I’m so sorry Remus,” he choked out, barely able to breathe. “I have been trying to imagine what I should have done differently, so you wouldn’t get hurt. I’m so sorry that I did that to you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Remus put his hands on his shoulder. “Hey, that’s for me to decide. Okay? So, let’s work on it.”

Sirius nodded, his eyes watery. Seemingly unable to help himself, he wrapped his arms around the taller boys torso and allowed himself to sob loudly. Remus couldn’t help the few tears that streaked down his own face, giving the top of Sirius’ head a tender kiss.

They stayed like that for a bit, listening to each other breathe, holding onto their shirts as if afraid to let go. And Remus didn’t know what was going to happen. He didn’t know what was going to happen now, what would happen with their friends or when he would feel like he could trust him again, but there, on the third level of the astronomy tower with Sirius’ arms wrapped around his chest, he felt like his heart was slowly being put back together.

When the tears dried up and Sirius stopped hiccuping, he pulled back. Remus gently wiped at the streaks on his face and gave him a small smile, which Sirius could barely return, though he tried.

“Want to come back?” Remus asked gently, taking his best friends’ hand in his own. Sirius nodded, trying to steady his breathing at the thought of getting to speak to his friends again. He was terrified and hopeful and everything in between. He wanted his life to feel safe again and was grateful that Remus seemed like he was going to help him get back there.

Remus smiled lightly and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Come on, everyone is dying to see you.”

“Okay.”

As they started to descend the stairs, a thought came to Remus. “Wait, where have you been sleeping?” He asked, worried about the actual answer.

“What? Oh, one of the Hufflepuff Prefects has been letting me sleep on the floor of his room.”

Remus huffed and rolled his eyes. “I should have guessed.”

They stayed silent as they kept descended the stairs back to their own common room when Sirius perked up. “What do you mean?”

Remus just laughed.

#my writing #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #the weird fic that i didn't know how to write well #but I did it #this is ALL for you Ash #thanks for always indulging me

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