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clouds-rambles · 3 years

Note

Hi there! Can i request xiao, childe,zhongli where reader gets injured bad one time that they go into like a comatose or something? And at the end they wake up, thank you!! 🤗

Hi bestie! And ask and ye shall sufficiently be fed. I kept rambling on these so I hope you don’t mind <3

Pairings; (Separate) Xiao, Childe, Zhongli x reader

Warning(s); hurt/comfort, cursing, slight wound description

Keep reading under the cut!

Xiao

You didn’t actually plan to take on the Oceanid but you were in the area and you knew a friend needed a cleansing heart or two so why not?

The why not is the fact that the dumb water birds were ripping the shit out of you

Sufficiently happy that the Oceanid has given you a lesson enough, they disappear, leaving you pretty much in a heaped, shivering, bloody pile.

The yaksha hears his name being spoken with such a level of hurt, Xiao is moving before you’re able to mutter his name a second time

Despite his quick speeds and quicker panic, he hears your voice slowly lose breath. And as much as he doesn’t want to he has started preparing himself for the worst.

Maybe it’s his fault for loving a fleeting mortal?

When he reaches you, you’re unconscious. But breathing. Laboured, likely due to some broken ribs, but breathing none the less. A less panicked and worried Xiao would chastise him for holding onto something that could disappear.

Xiao isn’t going to let you die, not on his hands.

He takes your limp body back to the Wangshu Inn and within the hour there’s 3 doctors all bandaging your body and making sure your stable

Comatose isn’t a word that Xiao has much experience with. But to him it manifests into the worst weeks of his life

Where he isn’t sat beside you, he’s pacing in your room. And when he isn’t doing that he’s throwing himself so deep in slaying demons and once the supply of demons ran dry he started clearing out random hilichurl camps

He knows that things are starting to get better when you start muttering random things in your sleep, and reacting to whatever books Xiao reads to you

Nobody at the Inn says anything outwardly about how unusually soft Xiao is, but everyone’s notices. If you were awake Xiao could imagine you teasing him about it and giving him a kiss

Four weeks almost to the day you wake up. Xiao is sat in his normal place beside you, book in his hand reading to you

“I like that book, its my favourite” you tell the yaksha who hasn’t noticed your waking. Your voice struggles to make words, like when you talk first thing in the morning.

Xiao jumps a little at your voice, he was so engrossed in the book and barely noticed your gaze.

Grinning is an understatement, Xiao smiles so wide and out of character that you almost jest about Xiao being a doppelganger

But the moment he hugs you, careful of your bindings, the jest fizzles away

“I almost lost you” he tells you his face sufficiently buried in your neck to try and hide the growing tears that he’s been pushing back through the weeks

“You can’t get rid of me that easily cutie” you reassure the yaksha as you embrace him as tight as your bandaged body can

Childe

The two of you love to expend your energy with random friendly fights be it wrestling around the house or finding the highest plains and having a great all out battle. You both find its a great way to release stress too

“I was thinking about eating out for dinner” you tell Childe as you parry his arrow

“That sounds like an idea. Loser pays” Childe responds with a grin

The fight is great, and dare you say it you’re winning

Until, by no joke, the biggest gust of wind pushes you off of the cliff and sends you flying

It would be funny if you couldn’t feel your bones breaking as you fall

Childe dives off the cliff the as soon as he can attempting to catch you

He does. But he’s a little too late to catch you conscious. You feel like a limp bag of potatoes. Your heartbeat being the only thing that’s currently grounding him and keeping him from committing various crimes

He doesn’t have the time to overthink until you’re safe and laying in your shared room

The three days that you’re unconscious Childe spends almost every waking moment sat on a chair beside your bed, laying on the bed beside you and actively avoiding as much work as he physically can. Even to the point a fatui agent comes to the house and lectures him about how he mustn’t keep avoiding his obligations.

He leaves for half a day on the third day and sits beside you the moment he gets back. He’s lazily telling you about his boring half day of work after he finishes he drops his head onto the bead

“I guess I’ll have to buy dinner though” you tell Childe your hand petting his hair

You’ve never seen Childe sit up so fast and bury his head into your chest where you continue to pet his hair

“Though you might have to go and get it, my bones hurt” you jest

“You fell off a fucking cliff [name] I’m sure your bones do more than hurt” he smiles kissing your nose

You smile at the man and embrace him again “I’m sure you caught me though”

“Without hesitation” he grins, Childes worry's and the days before overthinking flutter away for the time being

Zhongli

Being the adventurer spirit that you are going to the reaches of Liyue and you’ve made it your personal goal of exploring every crevice of the country

On your way back to the Harbour after a month and a half being away. Though on the final stretch of your journey a mitachurl decided that you were a personal punching bag and threw you across the road

Though in much pain from the fall you some how managed to make it back home and into the arms of your spouse

“I’ve got a present fo-” you pass out mid sentence, obviously your adrenaline from the mitachurl had finally ran out

Zhongli takes your sudden excess of deadweight and quickly lays you down onto your shared bed and checks you for any wounds

He quickly finds a large bruise from the mitachurl earlier. Zhongli changes you into some comfortable clothing while you’re already half undressed under his concerned gaze

Despite his quick thinking and generally unfazed expression the archon feels a unsettling pit at the bottom of his stomach

Baizhu is inside the house within the half hour and within the hour he has a diagnosis. A coma with no end date.

Being acquainted with comas but thanks to his previous lifetimes Zhongli has never been so close to someone with such an ailment

Another month and a half Zhongli finds himself away from his spouse. Although trying to keep his schedule as consistent as possible his morning walks are changed to sitting at the bedside and dinner time was often spent sat to the table that was in the bedroom, but now moved closer to your bedside

Although very used to being alone for extended periods of time thanks for your love of exploration, he has never felt so far away from you despite you being so close to him

When you awoke it was actually close to midnight. Your brain takes a few moments to catch up with the world. You take into account that you’re in bed, and notably, your spouse was not

You feel the distinct pain of the hit you had taken, although you note that it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it did when you came home

You sit on the edge of your bed and stand, a little wobbly at first, and you move about your home looking for your absent spouse

That’s until you find him asleep in the spare bedroom. Why is he there? You don’t remember having an explosive argument or kicking out of bed.

You enter the room and touch your spouses arm and you call his name. He wakes with a start almost surprised

“You’re awake” he informs you which causes you to chuckle at him

“You’re going to have to catch me up my love” you stroke his hair after he sits up in bed and urges you to sit atop his lap

“In the morning my dear, just for a moment let me be in your presence”

“Anything for you my love” you smile at him before pausing “Though I would love something to eat”

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao #childe x reader #genshin impact childe #childe #zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #headcanons #hurt/comfort

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes au

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fw00shy · 3 years

Text

What Happens After Summer is Up to You

Harry/Draco | T | 1.6k | post-war summer at hogwarts, a little story about letting things go and not making a big fuss over it, fluff honestly but not too sweet | ao3 link

for @drarrymicrofic: what if he wants ken not barbie. ty @vukovich for the beta 💙

(i)

Draco returned to Hogwarts the year after the war for the same reason that got him into this mess in the first place: because he was told to. "Keep your head down and count yourself lucky," his father had said, and Draco packed his bags the same as he did every year, having learned nothing about making his own decisions.

That would come later.

"Some people need a little more help in life than others," Pansy said with a pitying pat of his bedcovers as she watched him pack.

Pansy more than passed her NEWTs with the help of Polyjuice and a morally compromised Ravenclaw. A two-pm Portkey to Zanzibar waited for her in celebration of her well-deserved accomplishments.

Draco picked up an engraved wooden case and opened it to reveal his father's Snitch, the one from the year Lucius had won the House Cup. Draco packed it with him every year as a good luck charm, but looking at it now brought upon a wave of unease.

"Who else is going?" Draco asked Pansy. She was wearing a bruise-purple miniskirt and black lipstick that drained her complexion as gaunt as a Thestral. Draco noted this with petty satisfaction.

Pansy flopped back on Draco's bed. "I dunno. Everyone, I suppose. Daphne, of course. Blaise. Theo. Greg, maybe? But he says he might not have the money, which I think is for the best really — he's just been so sad, probably wants some time alone, to, you know, process — though Blaise said he'd cover for him…" Pansy sat back up. "Draky baby, you aren't sad about missing out, are you?"

Draco snapped down the lid to the Snitch and stashed it in his trunk. "Don't call me that."

"Don't be like that," Pansy cooed. She got off the bed and flounced toward him, her every step light with barely constrained exuberance. "You know it won't be the same without you. I'll owl you a nice prezzy, alright? Look at me."

Pansy's eyes were black and glittering, her mouth hardened in a crocodile smile. She looked like she was ready to move on with her life, which she might as well go and do. Nobody was stopping her, anyway.

(ii)

Hogwarts held preparatory courses over the summer for Muggleborns, and the newly anointed Headmistress singlehandedly taught them all. There were twelve students in total across the years, and the terms of Draco's probation stated that he was to aid in their education.

"Studying over the summer… bet this is Granger's idea of fun," Draco grumbled under his breath over dinner the first week.

"Mine, actually," Potter said around a mouthful of peas. "She helped write the curriculum, but then she scored an internship at the Ministry."

They were sitting at the teacher's table, which meant Draco could talk to Potter without having to meet his eye. As such, they'd spoken a few times, though primarily for passing the butter and pepper and whatnot. (Their fingers brushed on occasion. Though never on purpose, of course.)

"I'm happy for her," Harry said.

"It's a good curriculum." Draco coughed. Dear Circe, complimenting Granger… did he have no filter?

(iii)

Teaching Quidditch to ten-year-olds was Draco's least favourite part of his sentence. You'd think sharing his joy of flying would be his only solace in a soulless summer cleaning up after children barely coordinated enough to wipe their own arses, and you would be horribly, disgustingly wrong. Turns out most Muggle-raised children had a healthy dose of vertigo that often manifested into projectile vomiting from a metre up.

"I just don't get it," Potter said as he Scourgified puke from Draco's hair for the third time that afternoon. Their students were long gone, taken off to the kitchens after one plummeted to the ground in a cannonball of chunder.

"Of course you don't," Draco huffed. Not just anyone could fly like Harry Potter, the youngest Seeker in a century despite never setting foot on a pitch before Hogwarts. "Like any normal dunce can be Harry Potter. You're stupid to think anyone has it as easy as you."

Potter threw a fist at Draco's eye. Draco returned it to Potter's chest, shoving Potter down to the ground. It felt good to hurt, so good that he nearly whined in disappointment when Potter froze and dropped his fist mid-air.

"That was a compliment," Potter said, his face cracked open with bewilderment. "You — God, Malfoy. You mess me up." He got up from the ground, his knees grass-stained and his face bruised with mud. Draco watched the anger bloom red and splotchy over Potter's cheeks and tried not to cower when Potter drew his wand. Was this what Voldemort saw before he died?

Potter muttered something unintelligible, and Draco felt the pain siphoning away from his body. He was light all over, as though Potter had managed to take away all his wounds, even the ones within him, so that there was nothing to Draco but air.

Draco watched Potter disappear back into the castle before standing. He walked through the halls in a daze until he ran into the Headmistress, who told him to clean up before he set a bad example for the incoming First-Years. It wasn't until he was freshly showered and pulling on his robes again that he realised that his Dark Mark was gone.

(iv)

They started tossing around a Quaffle in the late afternoons after Quidditch class. They were already in their leathers, and saying yes was as easy as lifting off the ground. Throwing around a Quaffle was loads harder than chasing after a Snitch, but neither were practised at it, which helped, as they dove after missed catches with all the vigour of a game-ending Snitch. They flew until the daylight ran out and their breaths with it, sweaty and exhausted and so late into dinner that they were sent to the kitchens to scavenge leftovers.

It was a Sunday afternoon in mid-August when Pansy's promised owl brought Draco a box of chocolates; too many for Draco to eat alone, so it was only sensible for him to share as he would have with Greg or Vince in the past. He walked the long corridor to Potter's door and knocked, chocolates in hand.

It was a terrible mistake. Potter wore only boxers, his glasses askew and his hair still sleep-rumpled (despite it being The Afternoon!). Draco stumbled back as though slapped. Potter honestly had no right being so effortlessly attractive on top of everything else he had going for him. It was like seeing Dumbledore in his sleeping hat, or maybe the first time Draco caught Pansy on the toilet and realised that girls pooped: all wrong, completely wrong, he really ought to go, perhaps another time —

Potter dragged him inside with only the gentlest roll of his eyes.

The inside of Potter's room was as cosy as Mother's cashmere jumper, only uglier (the wrong colours). Potter ate an embarrassing number of chocolates while proclaiming, "I dunno where it all goes, honest; can't gain a stone," and Draco was so disgusted by the utter unfairness of life that he fell asleep over Potter's bed and had to sneak back to his own room in the wee hours of the morning.

(v)

It wasn't meant to be an open invitation. But Potter followed Draco all the way back to his room after dinner the next day, and Draco didn't manage to shut the door on him in time.

Potter looked around, his head swivelling around comically, like an owl. And then his eyes narrowed on Lucius's unopened letters piled high on Draco's desk.

"What's in them?"

"Dunno," Draco said. "Directives, if I had to guess. Rather pointless, considering I'm stuck under McGonagall's iron fist until the summer's out." Potter opened one anyway, and Draco watched anger carve lines between his brows with some bemusement. Was this what it was like to have Harry Potter on his side? It was a bit like hanging around a guard crup, or maybe a guard dragon.

Potter burned the letter. He burned them all before returning to his room.

Draco sat on his bed and stared at the scorched top of his desk. He wasn't sure how he felt about it all being gone. Part of him was relieved, sure, but mostly the loss numbed his chest through.

Then Draco remembered his father's Snitch.

Draco summoned the Snitch to him, and it burst forth from the bottom of his trunk amid a cacophony of torn textbooks and scattered winter cloaks. Draco caught the box in his right hand and tucked it under him before gingerly stepping over the mess to his window, where he took out the Snitch and let it go. And then all that was left of Lucius in Draco's room was Draco himself.

The future unfolded before him, cold and barren to the ends of the earth. What was he supposed to do now?

(vi)

In the last week of summer, Potter told Draco to call him Harry, and then he asked Draco what he was going to do with his life.

Draco said, "I dunno. Get a job at the Ministry. Marry Pansy, I suppose. And you with Ginny, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said and took Draco's face into his hands and kissed him.

Was this it? Was this what all those miserable years surmounted to? This crystalline moment, the one that Draco waited for his whole life. And now it took him by surprise.

Harry's lips were very chapped, though his mouth held the sweet promise of fresh grass and sunshine. Whatever that meant. Draco kissed him back. And then he said it wasn't fair that Harry was so good at kissing as he was at everything else, honestly — sunshine? Was there anything Harry struggled at? Because he was so bloody perfect that it made Draco want to stomp on his face and throw up all over him.

"You're the only person in the world who thinks I'm perfect," Harry said and kissed him again.

(vi)

What happened after summer is up to you. 💙

Read on AO3

#drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry #drarry squad #fwoosh writes

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draggingthedregs · 3 years

Note

Hello! Absolutely adored your protective Kanej fic, especially how you managed to make it meet the middle ground in a dignified manner. I was wondering if you could do the same with the topic of jealousy? Would you be willing to write a fic about Jesper's feelings for Kaz, and his pov on Kanej falling in love, with a healthy dose of jealousy? Maybe a bit where he and Inej bond over their feelings for Kaz? Totally understand if you don't want to, but thank you either way!

a/n: ah! thank you so much! i’m so glad you enjoyed that lil fic!! i also really loved your ask and was really excited to write it. i’m actually on vacation right now and didn’t bring a laptop so i hope you don’t mind that it’s in the headcannon type structure (i did get slightly carried away but what’s new)! so yeah! here ya go <3

Inej had been gone for nearly a month, her first voyage on The Wraith proving to be a success

And all of Ketterdam felt her absence in the darkening shadow of gloom that followed Kaz Brekker.

The Dregs were careful to keep every toe in line, for fear they would find a cane breaking the bone. Even Jesper managed to tone down his charm

Though he wasn’t sure if Kaz’s anger was the whole reason.

When she’d left, they had all gone to the dock to see her off

Jesper slung his arm around her shoulder, pulled her tight, and made her laugh with one last terrible joke

Then he watched as Kaz said goodbye, in whatever twisted way he was capable. It didn’t sit right with him.

The way Kaz spoke to her, how he held her hand, hell- how he looked at her. As if it were the first and last time he was seeing her.

Jes watched until he couldn’t any longer. Something had balled up inside him, manifesting itself in his pounding chest and heated cheeks

He recognized the feeling

It was the feeling of someone else winning at Makkers Wheel, of watching someone make Wylan laugh, of his revolvers in anyone else’s hands.

it was the feeling of jealousy

It warmed his skin and froze his bones. He hated himself for it.

It wasn’t as if he loved Kaz the way she did, wanted him the way she did. But you’ve been here longer, saved his life just as many times.

Then she was gone, disappearing into the sea like she’d always been good at. And a dullness settled in Kaz’s eyes as he headed back to his city.

Now, as they all approached the dock once more to welcome her home, Jes felt anxiety flipping in his stomach

Wylan must have noticed, taking one of the hands that he’d begun to tap along his thigh

The dock was crowded, a mess of ships coming and going, and still they knew which ship was hers as it sailed smoothly into her berth

And through the thick, bustling crowd they knew their Wraith by silhouette alone. Her grin was wide, her hair down and curling in the salty air.

Jesper laughed, his anxiety forgotten, as he grabbed her and lifted her off the ground

“Is it possible you got smaller out there?”

Inej laughed now. “Is it possible you’ve gotten taller?”

“Just prettier. But I see how that would be confusing.”

He let her go and Wylan reached for a hug. As they spoke, he became aware of a dark spot ebbing into view

And so did Inej.

She looked up to him, taking a deep breath as she scanned him in his entirety

When Jes followed her gaze, he could see that Kaz was doing the same to her

Then, Kaz reached a single hand out, every inch deliberate. She watched him with careful eyes until he gave a single nod.

Jesper was sure he didn’t make up the near desperation on her face as she rushed toward him for an embrace.

His hands wrapped around her frame slowly, pulling her closer and tighter to him. There was a hitch in his breathing and Inej looked up at him, but Kaz didn’t pull away.

As he watched, he could feel the ball of jealousy rattling once more

Wylan cleared his throat, “All of your things you left at the house are still there. You’re both more than welcome to eat with us tonight.”

Then he tugged at Jespers hand and off they went. He had turned back once to see that the pair separated, but the intensity on both their faces remained

What are you even jealous of? She deserves to be happy. That’s all that should matter to you.

It was dark by the time Inej snuck inside the Van Eck mansion. She approached the sitting room from behind, nearly scaring them to death

“Hope i’m not too late?”

After Wylan recovered from his heart attack, “Of course not.”

Jesper mustered a nod, unable to shake his feelings this time

Inej came around and sat in an open chair

And suddenly Wylan was up. He squeezed Jes’ hand and gave him a small smile. “I’ll just be in the kitchen cleaning up.”

Of course he noticed. My merchling has decided to be observant.

The two of them left sat silently for a bit, letting the crackling fire fill the air, then, “I missed you... I missed being here.”

Her eyes were already on him when he looked up. Inej gave him the barest smile and shrug.

“Well- I’m impossible not to miss.”

She laughed, pulling her legs up underneath her. “Fair enough. How was it here while I was gone?”

Jes let out a scoff. “Kaz didn’t tell you anything?”

“Not about Ketterdam, no.”

“Well it’s been shitty. He’s been worse than usual, if that’s even possible.”

He could see the look on her face as she registered that he was upset. Inej turned to the fire then.

“You know-“ He immediately regretted it. “I couldn’t begin to guess what he has over you but he isn’t worth it, Wraith.”

“Jesper. You’re being mean”

“To who? Him?”

She turned to face him now, her face severe. “To me.”

It was then that he crumpled.

Jesper fell inward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. “I’m sorry- I just-“

You just what? What could you say to dig yourself out of this? Why do you even feel like this?

Then she was beside him, taking his hand.

“Jes, what is it?”

Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t lie to her. And he couldn’t control what he said next.

“You’re too good for him- we all are! And- and yet we all just go along with it all! For what? It’s not like we get anything back, he doesn’t even-“

“Care?”

Jesper looked up at her again.

“Look- I know how he is. He’s cold and frustrating and nearly impossible. But he’s also loyal and fierce and he would do anything for his crows. I think that’s what we all stick around for.”

“Is that enough?”

He could see her turning his question over in her mind.

“I wasn’t always sure but- I believe so. And if it isn’t, then we’ll revisit this conversation. Surely you can see that things are changing.”

Despite his anger or jealousy or frustration, Jesper couldn’t ignore that she was right. When isn’t she?

Kaz was changing. Between Per Haskell and Pekka Rollins, Inej leaving and becoming a barrel boss, he was different.

“Call me crazy. Call me too optimistic or pious for my own good, but there is something in him. Even if it’s buried deep.”

Jesper interrupted, “Very, very, very deep.”

Inej laughed. “I know.”

“I just want something in return sometimes. It feels like running on water and getting nowhere. The rest of us- that’s friendship, but him-“

“It isn’t the same. I understand that. Though he does feel something for you... something deeper than friendship I believe.”

He thought back to the clocktower of the Geldrenner, to the intensity in Kaz’s eyes. What do you think my forgiveness looks like, Jordie?

He nodded, supposing he wouldn’t start doubting Inej today.

“You aren’t alone, Jes. I know how you feel...”

That, he hadn’t even considered. Of course she knew how this felt, probably better than anyone.

“How do you do it, Inej? How do you love him?”

To his surprise, the Wraith smiled. “I love Kaz as he is, in every way. Not the boy he was or the man he could have been, but who he is right now. Ketterdam needs him like this just as much as it needs you and me as we are.”

Jesper hadn’t known Kaz before he had become the Bastard of the Barrel and he’d always had a difficult time placing him as a child. He couldn’t picture a young Kaz, coffee eyes and black hair glinting in the setting sun as his little legs carried him home.

But he figured Inej could. She always saw the big picture, the city from above instead of a single grimy street.

“How long will you be in Ketterdam?”

She shrugged. “As long as I’m needed here and not somewhere else.”

“Waffles in the morning then. On me.”

Inej laughed. “Jesper paying for breakfast? Things really have changed.”

It felt like a weight lifted off him as he laughed with her. “Dont get used to it.”

They stood, hugging for a brief moment.

“Goodnight, Jes.”

Then, he watched as she melted into the steady shadows with ease, as though she had never missed an evening in the mansion.

#six of crows #kanejheadcanons #jesper #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #kanej #soc #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #kaz x inej #soc fanfic #grishaverse fanfic #soc fanfiction #kanej fic

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clonetrobed · 3 years

Note

he remembered why he never leaves his apartment anymore

(i suck at past tense so i changed it to present but thank u!! this also ended up longer than expected so some of it is under the cut)

He remembers why he never leaves his apartment anymore the second he steps onto the sidewalk. All at once, the sun is too bright, the street is too noisy, and the combination gasoline-street food smell that hangs in the hot evening air almost makes him gag. He immediately stumbles back inside, closing his eyes and gulping in deep breaths as he flattens himself back against the wall. When he opens his eyes, he finds the few people in the lobby of his building looking strangely at him. He sighs, gives them a cursory nod, and then makes his way back to the elevator.

It wasn’t always this bad. The sensory overload used to only happen occasionally, it used to be something he could bounce back from. It wasn’t until he moved to LA that it became a real problem - the daily migraines, the chronic fatigue, the oversensitivity. He’d fought through it for as long as he could, eventually collapsing on the set of his PA job the day after he’d sold his first script.

Some celebration.

He groans a little as he steps back into his apartment, quietly locking the door behind himself and making a beeline for his bed in the corner of the studio. He strips out of his clothes and crawls under the covers, slipping his head underneath the pillow. The cool softness gets his body to untense, at least a little. His phone buzzes on his bedside table, but he ignores it. He doesn’t have the energy to speak to anyone at the moment - he’s not even sure his voice works. Instead, he closes his eyes.

His therapist says it’s all a physical manifestation of his anxiety, and his existing sensory processing issues only make it worse. He thinks that seems dramatic, even for him, but mostly he’s too tired to even bother looking into it. As long as he can write, he’s okay. It’s all about the coping.

He falls asleep at some point. When he wakes up, he can see the sun’s gone down outside, and the pain in his head is still present. He fumbles over the side of the bed for his phone to check the time, squinting against the light of his phone screen. But then he doesn’t even look at the time - something else on the screen makes his heart swoop in his chest.

4:28PM: Troy Barnes - (1) Missed Call

4:30PM: Troy Barnes - (1) New Message

Hey, baby. I guess you’re busy at work, so I won’t call you a million times. Just wanted to let you know we’re gonna be docked in the Canary Islands for a couple days. There’s wifi at the hostel, so whenever you’re free to FaceTime, just let me know and I’ll make sure I’m awake... and maybe make sure LeVar is out of the room, too, because fuck I miss you so much, Abed. Not to sound needy or anything, but... actually who am I kidding. I miss your hands and lips all over me, I miss sharing a bed with you, I miss looking into your eyes, I miss holding you, I miss eating buttered noodles and cosplaying Inspector Spacetime with you. Ugh, sorry for the extra long text, I guess I’ve just been thinking about you a lot lately. Only 6 more months until we can do all that stuff again, just like before except this time we’ll be millionaires. I love you so much, okay? I can’t wait to see you again. Call me when you can <33333

He smiles as he finishes reading the text, and then he immediately reads it again, and again. 6 more months until he has Troy back forever, and in the meantime, he’ll tolerate what he has. He’s done it this long.

In fact, he can’t help but notice as he dials Troy’s number, resting his head on the pillow as he listens to it ring, that the pain is already a little duller.

#trobed #trobed fic #troy x abed #anon #ask #fic stuff

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greeksandmagic · 3 years

Text

How Exactly Did Caul and His Followers Get Themselves Turned into Hollows?

I've had this one in my drafts for a while, and I decided to make myself post it already.

Well, I've been thinking about this specific conversation in Library of Souls. I'll just quote it here.

'Just as someone who's a gifted cellist wasn't born with an aptitude for only that instrument but for music in general, you weren't born only to manipulate hollows. Nor you, to make fire.'

Emma frowned. I'm over a hundred years old. I think I know my own peculiar ability by now- and I definitely can't manipulate water, or air, or dirt. Believe me, I've tried.'

'That doesn't mean you can't,' Reynaldo said. 'Early in life, we recognize certain talents in ourselves, and we focus on those to the exclusion of others. It's not that nothing else is possible, but that nothing else was nurtured.'

'It's an interesting theory.' I said.

'The point is, it's not so impossibly random that you have a talent for hollowgast manipulation. Your gift developed in that direction because that's what was needed.'

'If that's true, then why can't all of us control hollows?' Emma said. 'Every peculiar could use some of what Jacob's got.'

'Because only his basic talent was capable developing that way. In the times before hollows, the talents of peculiars with souls akin to his probably manifested some other way. It's said that the Library of Souls was staffed by people who could read peculiar souls like they were books. If those librarians were alive today, they'd probably be like him.'

This kind of indicates the fact that the peculiar soul is flexible, depending on its base. My guess is that every peculiar has this one base in their soul, and whatever standardly builds up on it is what causes their manifested peculiarity to nurture. Whenever a peculiar's 'unique' layer of their second soul has completely built up, they manifest their peculiarities. This is why most babies don't manifest their abilities right then.

The Ymbrynes who caused the loop collapse in Siberia weren't experienced, as Miss Peregrine had stated. The built-up, unique peculiar-ness the former-Claywings had possessed was what had enveloped their base, like a second skin.

They hadn't become a hollow, they'd been enveloped by their own distorted souls, to change into one.

Their physical age was reset, because the second soul's unique layer is what holds all the years that they'd skipped through, and when the unique layer of their soul consumed them, their true age had been released from its fibers, and so they were reset to their physical age.

Basically, the unique layer of their souls' 'DNA' was corrupted under the loop collapse, and it had expanded to consume them. The longer they stay a hollow, the more the second skin will consume them, until they won't be able to change into a wight anymore.

When the hollowness of a hollow's soul's unique layer is filled up with pieces of other peculiars' souls, the corrupted skin is forced off, and they become themselves again, except their pupils are blank, and most of them don't remember much. (I'm going to talk about this later.)

They probably only 'eat' a little of a peculiar's soul, since Caul (he did try to stop the hollow when it almost ingested Jacob, but let's face it, Caul might've been faking, or maybe he wanted the whole soul for himself) was perfectly fine with letting a hollow loose with Jacob, even though he needed him for his second soul in Library of Souls.

The only transformation we've seen- at least a little of- is Horatio's. H had kept him as a hollowgast for a long, long while, and that's why he'd directly morphed into a hollow, instead of shedding his second skin.

Now, about them losing their pupils, and memories.

Pupils are the dark circular opening in the center of the iris of the eye, which varies in size to regulate the amount of light reaching the retina. They're what records whatever they see, to make memories, which are stored in the brain.

The hollows drip blood from their eyes, which kind of indicates that their pupils must've been damaged whilst the second skin enveloped them. The blast from the collapsing loop was probably too bright for them to take.

Their blood is black when it leaks out, but I still think it'd be the normal dark-red color of blood when it's still inside them. It just turns black when they bleed, because their second skin is black, and it tints the blood black, too.

Now, with no pupils to filter light, they take the blunt of whatever they see. They have no pupils to adjust to different lighting levels, so they always see the same way. They'd be perfectly useless in a dark environment. I used to wonder if they were colorblind, but they probably see everything brighter, and harsher, than we do- in light.

The brain panics, because the way the wight's seeing things now is much, much different from the usual. It's too bright, and it can't handle processing it, since it's such a contrast to their prior way of seeing. They probably saw everything darker when they were a hollow.

The brain figures out that the only way to adapt to this is to start over, and it lets go of all the memories it's stored until then.

There are two exceptions to this, of course.

1. The hollow transforms into a wight in a specific environment (dark, cool, et cetera), and it takes a moment to go through everything it knows, because the brain can't just let go of a memory that's being currently put to use. The hollow's determination and zeal for its goal is far too strong, and its memories far too important. (Caul)

2. The hollow is taught all that it knows carefully and appropriately. It has understood and processed everything, deeply. (Horatio)

To prevent the prospect of turning into hollowgast while collapsing a loop, you have to:

Lessen the brightness of the collapse's blast

Contain it in the span of the loop's area

Have more experienced Ymbrynes

That's all, for now! I'll add on to this, though only if I think of something else to mention.

#mphfpc #hollowgast #los #tcotb #caul bentham #wights #the claywings #tdoda spoilers #?#theory time #this took me ages to type out

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bagadew · 3 years

Text

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band (Part 1)

Last Time: With a little help from Susato, the lady in pink, we discovered that Miss Brett poisoned Dr Wilson with Curare, a fast acting poison that’s only effective when introduced into the blood stream. In a last ditch attempt to avoid justice, Miss Brett destroyed the evidence right in front of the court, but fortunately my man Hosonaga was on hand with new evidence he’d taken from the crime scene, meaning that all we had to do was catch the thief of a rare golden coin, and tie Miss Brett up with her own words! At last I (Ryunosuke) was acquitted!

...only to find out in the lobby that Miss Brett has managed to privilege her way out of any consequences and was gone like smoke in the wind. (Also Kazuma used his sword in a way I found very hot, and I think I’ve accidentally doomed him to death or moral corruption.)

I’m 90% sure The Speckled Band is a Sherlock Holmes case, and I’m 49% sure it’s one of the ones I’ve read. I’m guessing this is where we’ll meet The Great Himbo Detective Herlock Sholmes then!

Well I guess that answers that then.

(And yes, I have read this one)

HERLOCK!

And he’s voiced by Professor Layton maybe???

Ooh, this seems like a Study in Scarlet, are we doing a Study in Scarlet guys?

Herlock has a magic gun!?!

Also I’m not digging this Japanese scripture and talk of it being penned by ‘the victim himself’. Kazuma what did I tell you about leaving my sight?

Wait... I could have sworn I just saw Hosonaga dressed as a sailor...

Oh balls, am I about to be accused of murder again?

Honestly I can’t take you anywhere Ryunosuke

Well Ryunosuke, you remember how you went to a lovely restaurant and got arrested for a murder you didn’t commit?

Well, it’s just like that but substitute restaurant for ship.

Also I’m not liking how little I’ve seen of Kazuma...

Ryunosuke we really need to have a talk about you just saying what people want to hear.

ITS FUCKING KAZUMA ISN’T IT?!

Nononononononono

I knew this was coming, you knew this was coming, Ace Attorney law dictated it was coming as soon as it set Kazuma up as both my mentor and best friend.

But even so, I thought they were just empty threats! I didn’t think they’d actually follow through! Or that we might at least enjoy Herlock Sholmes ad his magic gun together first.

I realise I’m stalling here, but maybe if I just don’t click I’ll not have to see his body.

Sailor Man, I understand that you’re very upset, we all are, but I need you to understand that I’m grieving here.

The man I love took one look at the morally compromised shits I’m normally into and decided he’d rather die than join them! And yes I know I’m still stalling and not taking this as seriously as I should because I still don’t believe it!

See, me and Ryunosuke are on the same page!

I didn’t Susato, but the problem is that you and I have only just met and I’m not very convincing!

Kazuma you legend! I refuse to believe you are dead until I see your corpse.

Now Ryunosuke’s all: I can’t believe they tossed your case around that much. I thought I was going to die.

And Kazuma’s telling me he’s just amazed I fitted inside his trunk in the first place.

Kazuma you can’t be gone! Who else will condescendingly tell me to go to France and ask rather than translate a French label for me?

Now Kazuma’s telling me (Ryunosuke) that I’m going to have to live in his cabin for the next 50 days.

Also we’ve got to keep this from Susato because we’re breaking the law and Kazuma doesn’t want us to take her down with us.

Lol, every day I get shoved into the wardrobe by an uncaring Kazuma!

Oh, that’s what the message said!

God knows what the steward thought Kazuma was keeping in his wardrobe though

See Ryunosuke, this is why we think before we speak.

I don’t envy the real killer when Susato gets hold of them.

From what I can find out it’s a locked room mystery, and the cause of death is still undetermined, so I’m guessing something like poison then rather than an obvious thing, like being stabbed with his big sword.

On one hand, I really hope it wasn’t something like Curare, because I don’t want Kazuma to have gone out like that, but on the other hand poison would explain why the killer didn’t need to be in the room when he died and why Kazuma didn’t strike them down with said big sword.

Ok, so Kazuma, legend that he was, got up every day at the crack of dawn to do sword training. And Susato, who I’m begging to suspect is incredibly hardcore, go up before him so she could go and wait for him outside.

Now that’s interesting.

The two of them seem like they were pretty close, so there’s a good chance it’s just that she’s so familiar with Kazuma’s habits that she can tell the second something’s off, or it could be that there’s some other reason we need to work out.

If that’s correct that means Kazuma was killed in the small hours of the morning.

You know up ‘til now I’ve been assuming Ryunosuke was knocked out or something, and that’s why he was unconscious in the wardrobe, but now I’m starting to think he might have just been sleeping in there.

:((

Wait why’d Kazuma write in Russian?

Like I’d buy that he might know it, but I don’t buy that’s it’s what he’d write in in his finger moments.

Well that proves my innocence then, all we need to do is get some witnesses to verify the ‘go to France and ask’ moment from the last case

Oh ok, I didn’t manage to screenshot it, but it seems that I (Ryunosuke) didn’t put myself in the wardrobe. That’s very odd.

I can see a vent up there, so maybe someone gassed us and then got in while we were asleep and set up the crime scene.

Kazuma said I should come, next question

Ryunosuke, with some of the words that come out of your mouth I don’t think you should be throwing stones.

Love?

Apparently not.

This is going to be something ominous isn’t it...

I’m starting to feel like Kazuma knew he’d never see England.

Kazuma how many toes did you tread on?

Oh fucking hell!

You can’t die and be heading down a dark moral path, that’s not fair!

Yeah, I want to know that too.

So my poison/drugging theory seems to be holding up. Apparently Kazuma bought me something to eat, I climbed into the hiding wardrobe, and then it’s lights out from there.

Given that I didn’t wake up when Kazuma was killed I’m going to say that also back that theory up. Even if it was silent I feel like Ryunosuke would have woken up if someone was going round the cabin knocking ink bottles over and killing Kazuma.

No, don’t blame yourself Ryunosuke!

It’s my fault really, if I was going to find Kazuma hot I should have made sure I could manifest inside my switch and protect him!

Ah, of course! Isn’t her dad a professor of pathology? And she seems like the sort of person who picks things up pretty quickly!

In other words, if this is a poisoning, she could be the perfect person to be partnered up with.

:(((

Susato is fully prepared to kick our ass if we try and leave, and as the woman who got up before Kazuma, I think we should listen to her.

:(((((

I say we team up as an investigative duo and catch this bastard!

Yeah!

SHE FUCKED US UP!!!

Susato didn’t come here to play! Especially when we might have killed Kazuma!

(Editors note: this isn’t a bad screenshot, Susato genuinely made Ryunosuke’s vision go blurry)

I know we need to investigate, but my god this woman’s got a fist to match her convictions.

You know when I first met Susato I was a bit afraid she was going to be the inverse of Maya to the point of being meek and shy.

Now I see what a fool I was.

Susato might be prepared to politely follow the rules, but woe betide you if you break them.

She’s even named it!

Again I know this is bad for us but GO SUSATO!

(God damn it you can’t all be my favourite characters)

Her own special martial arts form Ryunosuke!

And just like that she regathers her composure and carries on as if nothing had happened!

I like how she’s still just standing over me.

Ok Ryunosuke let’s go!

(Seriously though we don’t want her as an enemy)

Ah of course, Kazuma stuck the seal on the wardrobe, and the fact Herlock Sholmes (the himbo detective) had to pull it off means I didn’t leave!

No one respects poor Ryunosuke...

So it seems that Susato doesn’t believe we’re innocent just yet, but as we’ve presented the possibility of doubt before her she will let us investigate this room.

Given the buck wild nature of the last trial she was involved in, I honestly can’t blame her for not ruling this possibility out. After all if this was something a witness in a trial had said I’d be thinking the same thing.

Susato’s going to be watching us to make sure we don’t disturb the crime scene, which again is fair.

I’ve got to say, I’m really digging Susato’s cautiously suspicious and sensible nature. It feels like a good counterbalance to Ryunosuke’s beautiful but naïve outlook on life.

I bet if Susato had stowed away onboard a ship you wouldn’t catch her immediately confessing as soon as a sailor started to press her.

Who am I kidding, Susato would never have got into this situation in the first place.

*sob*

Ok so far we’ve got:

A) Half a pink kimono fastener on the floor next to a brick red mark

B) One disturbed table, with the remains of our roast chicken dinner on the floor

C) The terrible knowledge that Kazuma spent his last night on earth hungry because he didn’t like chicken

D) Kazuma’s precious katana, that he loved dearly and that he’d apparently managed to persuade the government to let him bring to the UK.

Oh yeah, drive the knife in why don’t you game!

Why do I feel like Ryunosuke’s about to get roasted?

There we go.

(It’s what Kazuma would have wanted)

DON’T JUST GO WITH IT RYUNOSUKE!

Back to investigating, we’ve got a ransacked shelf, and Kazuma’s London diary.

Just, you know, to rip my heart out...

It looks like the final entry’s incomplete, which means Kazuma was probably writing it when the incident happened. Unfortunately Susato is violently insistent that we respect the Kazuma’s private thoughts after his death, so we can’t read it.

We’ve got the inky Russian(?) on the floor which none of us can either recognize, nor read (including me)

(Sorry to any Russians reading this by the way, I can only assume you’re screaming that this isn’t Russian, but I’m just going by what the Great Himbo Detective said in the cut scene.)

Ok, so the sailor who’s been guarding us got very flustered when we asked if everything was normal last night, meaning that either he’s been skiving off, or everything was in fact not normal last night.

Oh sweet, it seems that Ryunosuke and Susato both read detective novels, and while we’ve shot down the possibility of using the needle and thread trick to unbolt the door from the outside (side note: I must remember to try that later), I feel like both they, and the player who immediately started trying to rattle off facts about Curare, have had a bonding moment.

Ok, I think that’s this half of the room done, let’s go and check out that vent I saw earlier.

So the vent connects to the room next door. That means if the grate could be moved we have a way in and out of our crime scene!

HERLOCK SHOLMES!!!

I mean, he’s quite hard to miss Ryunosuke

(I think Ryunosuke might have an Apollo complex short)

Understatement of the century

Her and me both Ryunosuke, it’s The Great Himbo Detective!!!

WE’RE TALKING TO HIM!

AND HE’S BLANKING US!!!

Herlock Sholmes I understand that you’re in a critical point of your investigation, but you need to understand that Ryunosuke, Susato and I are sad and need to see your magic gun.

YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS!!!

IT’S LIKE HE HEARD ME!!!

OH GREAT HIMBO DETECTIVE CHEER ME WITH YOUR WITH YOUR ECCENTRIC ACTS THAT ARE RELATABLE TO MY AUTISTIC ASS!!!

OMFG HE’S SO INCREDIBLY WRONG!!!

I hope this is the way all of his deductions go from now on.

Also I’m sorry Russia and the Russian language, I should not have believed what the man, who on reflection was sold to me as the great himbo detective, said.

Susato’s buying it!

Susato look into my eyes and tell me Ryunosuke could ever make it as a soldier.

No, please do!

And the bullet flies a mile wide!

I’m still upset about Kazuma, but I’m somehow also having the time of my life

SUSATO YOU KNOW I’M FROM JAPAN!!!

SHE TOOK ME OUT!!!

AND MY GOD AM I HERE FOR IT!!!

Ryunosuke’s finally snapped!

What I find amazing is that the Sherlock Holmes Herlock Sholmes stories clearly exist, basically unchanged in this world. So either Dr Watson Wilson was either lying through his teeth to spare his friend’s feelings, or he is the stopped clock is right twice a day person who Herlock actually hit the nail on the head for, and therefore he believed everything that was said.

‘On rout to foreign climates’ that’s how ships work Herlock!

Exactly!

I’ll say one thing for Herlock though, you can’t beat him down!

How am I both Ryunosuke and Susato in this scene?

Yeah Naruhodo-san! I thought you read detective stories!

Quick Susato! Get him to sign a copy!

Um... has no one told him yet...

I’m also curious about the fact that he still believes Dr Wilson’s in London. Either there are two Dr Wilson’s, or something weird is going on here.

Look at his hat Ryunosuke, it contains all the information you need

He got his own name wrong!

Hosonaga, I don’t know if you can hear from wherever you are on this ship dressed as a sailor, but there is a fight and you are rapidly losing!

(Also to be fair to Herlock, as someone who’s been playing a lot of Hitman recently, looking inside the wardrobe already means he’s doing a lot better than literally every character in that game.)

Ok so it was Russian then and I no longer have to apologies!

Do you think Herlock has ever been to Russia?

Ok Mr ‘is this cow a cat?’

:(((((((

HERLOCK THAT LOOKS NOTHING LIKE ME!!!

Ok everyone, we’re also on the lookout for a missing Russian Ballerina along with Kazuma’s killer. I don’t know how, but I wouldn’t have been told about her if she wasn’t relevant

I can’t believe we’ve finally found the vindictive part of Ryunosuke’s beautiful personality!

We’re finally reading Kazuma’s diary!

Oh fuck, Kazuma was bitten by an adder

Wait, if that was the case why didn’t he dispatch it with his big sword? We’ve seen him do precision work before, so that can’t be it.

Either way, I think we really need to talk to the person in the room next to mine.

Also: Herlock Sholmes gets seasick!

Did she just break my cuffs?

My mistake she’s just showing some tough love to get me to buck up!

Let’s go team!

HOSONAGA!!!

“What are you doing here?” “I think that should be my line” This feels like that meme of the two Spidermen pointing at each other

I wouldn’t be so sure Susato. Hosonaga seems a lot like me, a bunch of disabilities held together by sheer force of will.

He still has a job!

(Or his superiors are just trying to send him as far away from Japan as they can)

HELL YEAH HOSONAGA, LETS PUNCH THE RULES UNTIL THEY SQUEAK!

(Also your superiors are definitely trying to ship you out)

Oh...

That would explain Kazuma’s whole vibe.

Although something about this feels wrong. No disrespect to Hosonaga, but as determined as he is he doesn’t exactly have the physical prowess you’d associate with stopping an assassination. I know I haven’t exactly seen him at work yet, but something about this feels like he was set up to fail.

Now the thing is, that while he can cut it as a waiter, Hosonaga isn’t exactly built to fit in among sailors. It’s not going to take a genius therefore, to work out who Kazuma’s guard is, especially if he’s been around Kazuma from dawn till dusk. That’s probably why his killer had to kill him in his cabin, and it’s also why they probably drugged his food (which means they didn’t know him enough to know he didn’t like chicken)

:(((((((((((((

On the plus side though, it looks as though Hosonaga believes in my innocence.

Come on Hosonaga, remember when you bought Miss Brett to us!

Hell yeah Hosonaga!

Hosonaga heard my call! He heard that he was losing his place as my second favourite character and came back swinging!!!

Determination Ryunosuke!

Also probably hacking up a lot of blood, that does wonders to unnerve people in my experience

Now, I should present Kazuma’s diary here... but...

Yes, everything is as it should be...

He’s digging it!

Oh no he took it as an insult!

Sorry Ryunosuke, that’s the crime scene thief’s now

Ok let’s do this properly then

Yeah boy!

LETS DO THIS TEAM!!!

Ryunosuke, do you remember nothing about this man?

Hosonaga didn’t come here to play!

Ok, we’re moving on out (except not right now because I’ve still got a couple of things to look at before we go)

I think Ryunosuke might be a bad influence on Susato...

Also I feel like I’ve pegged Susato wrong regarding the rules. Susato’s just very good at keeping up the appearance of following them.

Come to think of it, the fact she’s a judicial assistant, despite women apparently not being allowed in the Japanese court other than to testify should have clued me in.

Susato Mikotoba: Breaking the rules in front of you, but in a way you don’t notice

(Also the bell pull’s not working, but I think we all expected that)

Susato I’ve been living in a cupboard!

Don’t pity me!

Ok, so I’m not quite sure when Ryunosuke and I started thinking as one, but we’ve all agreed it’s happening now

Ryunosuke do not get caught in the mousetrap!

Susato can see right through me (Ryunosuke)

Umm...

This is the Phoenix Maya dynamic inverted, and I am living for it.

Susato: Now this is an emergency button, it’s very important you do NOT press it!

Ryunosuke: *lunges for the trigger*

It feels amazing being the wayward partner!

Our rout into cabin 2’s blocked by approximately 1 ton of sailor, so for now Susato and I will have to dick around avenge Kazuma out here in the corridor.

It seems that last night’s log is mostly blank, so I’m guessing I was right about the sailor on duty skiving off.

Hmm, so the person in the next cabin’s probably quite important then. Given what just happened with Miss Brett that’s not a good sign.

And it seems like I’m not allowed to visit whoever it is without an invitation... which might prove tricky given as how there in there and I’m out here

Ah good, a Western Gentleman, that’s just what we need!

Hmmmmm

These guys left their post for a while didn’t they?

Either that or there’s something (or someone) they’re keeping off the records.

This might be a bit of a wide shot, but that mousetrap makes me wonder if the crew has some sort of secret pet squirrelled away somewhere. It doesn’t entirely add up what with them putting traps down, but with everyone in Ace Attorney having something to hide it’s all I can think of now.

Bif Strogenov’s left to report to the captain, nows our window to violate some privacy!

HERLOCK SHOLMES!!!

Shot down!

Herlock that thing’s tiny, I don’t think anyone’s in there!

It moved!

Guess I’m eating my words!

Herlock???

Ok, we’re not allowed to look inside the case, or indeed anything, but fortunately we have HERLOCK SHOLMES THE GREAT HIMBO DETECTIVE!!!

Deduce away Herlock!

Herlock... are you about to tell this man that he’s also the Russian Assasin? Are you going to do this round the whole ship until you get it right?

Wait this is working!?!

Herlock Sholmes is Susato’s one blind spot and Ryunosuke’s one point of clarity

CHOOCHOO!!!

THIS IS AMAZING!

He’s not entirely right though...

(Editors note: I completely managed to miss capturing 90% of the ? icons)

I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!

HERLOCK LOOK AT THIS MAN’S NOSE, LOOK AT MY FACE! NOW LOOK AT THE MAN IN THE PORTRAIT!

However, the newspaper in his pocket and the little ! icon seems to suggest there’s some connection there.

(Editors note: I also managed to miss every ! icon)

And there is a crime being committed, but it’s not to do with the case.

Yeah, it probably just contains one of those pets we’re not supposed to have.

So... a baby?

So do a lot of people Susato

Ok, so The Great Himbo Detective is actually really good at making observations, it’s just how he applies them that’s shit.

I wonder if this is what Dr Wilson did for their partnership, but he just cut out the bits where he said things like: Herlock these people have completely different faces, maybe there’s a different reason they’ve got the paper?

Ryunosuke normally: The fact Hosonaga’s working in this restaurant clearly means he’s struggling financially!

Ryunosuke around Herlock: You can’t just say the first guess that pops into your head!

HERLOCK BUSTED US OUT!!!

(Ok he’s also the reason we were in handcuffs, but still)

Olay!

What! Noooooo!

‘Course Correction: Hold it Mr Sholmes!’ What a title!

Important news just in: Ryunosuke can’t grow a beard

A part of me says that he was about to use the sheers to cut up that paper, but there are obviously other copies around the ship, so unless he’s planning a sheers rampage that can’t be right.

Hello!

Wait a second... with that reaction to the paper... is there a Russian Ballerina in there?

WE DID THE HERLOCK SHOLMES COOL SPIN AND CLICK!!!

Also look at Ryunosuke’s little cocky smirk!

He’s really getting into this!

And I couldn’t be more proud!

We’re tag teaming it!

Herlock I swear to god if you tell me she’s that assassin

WHAT DID I JUST SAY!

(Editors note: Got that one!)

I sure am Susato!

Keep telling yourself that Ryunosuke, we can all see the truth

Ah, so the nose was fake too

That makes a lot more sense now!

Well she did disappear with a priceless tiara

He said, rubbing his hand in glee

This is definitely the start of a beautiful friendship!

Damn straight I do!

Bingo

For some reason I pictured it as being pink though, I don’t know why

Anyway so, while Nikolina does need money it seems that she didn’t steal the tiara. Apparently it was given to her as a present.

Also Nikolina is only 15, and has run away by herself for reasons currently unknown. I’m starting to get the feeling that the crew (or at least the two we’ve met) might have been looking out for her.

Oh yeah, the moving travel case!

Given the rules regarding pets, I wonder if that’s what’s in there? It would explain the attitude of the sailors we met.

Is it the Russian Revolutionary Herlock? You have to tell us if it is...

He’s learning!

Yep, she’s looking at the pet rule sign, now show me the pet!

Whoooooooo!

Yeah, I’m pretty sure the guys on the door were covering for her (and probably her pet too)

Hmm, so Nikolina’s running from someone, so she decided to disguise herself to be safe and has been a jumble of nerve ever since.

Can I see...

Bless you Nikolina, but you’re not the best at keeping secrets. I’m pretty sure the crew have collectively decided to just look the other way and let the traumatised 15 year old have her pet.

HE CUFFED ME AGIAN!!!

I wonder if Nikolina’s beloved pet’s a snake?

Can I just...

Fine...

No, everyone must see my badge!

HA!

Ok now let’s go back to actually playing the game!

So, because she’s a jumble of nerves, Nikolina hasn’t been noticing much about what’s been happening around her. However I think she’d have probably noticed signs of danger, like loud noises, so I’m a little curious as to why she didn’t pick up on the sound of the tableware being sent to the floor.

From what I can gather about her ‘never dancing again’ whatever happened probably has something to do with the ballet.

Either that or she’s worried about being linked with her old life if she goes back on the scene under another name.

That’s a good point actually, while people are funny and I can get her wanting a memento of her life, that’s an incredibly distinctive memento to have.

It must have some sort of emotional significance, I think she said it was given to her by an Earl, so maybe her father?

Hmm, that’s a pretty distinctive thing to try and pawn Nikolina.

Yikes! So the Novavich Ballet’s got really unethical working conditions. (Which probably shouldn’t be too much of a shock given the time period.) Now I understand why Nikolina’s so keen to never put herself in that situation again.

Yeah, I thought that was the case.

Huh?

Oh yeah... that is odd

Ah, so that’s why everyone was so on edge!

Right...

(I feel like this would carry more weight if we hadn’t just been flashing our badge at anyone who looks our way)

Now onto the most important question:

HERLOCK NO!

Susato is me (but personally I’m hoping for a kitten)

Ok Genius, what sort of animal is it?

I’ll eat your funky hat if that’s true Herlock

Important information 2: Never trust Herlock with a pet

Please let it be that we were Kazuma’s pet

Wait no, I’m an idiot. I’m obviously supposed to ask about the speckled band

Wow she changed quick!

She’s leaving to talk to the captain, is this our chance to meet her friend!?!

Booooo, we’ve been chucked out!!!

#tgaa spoilers #tgaa #the great ace attorney #the adventure of the unbreakable speckled band #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #susato mikotoba #satoru hosonaga #nikolina pavlova #i will avenge your death kazuma #also i will see that animal #this is a long one by the way lads #i might break the investigation parts into daily sections of progress #because these screenshots took forever to transfer from my phone

16 notes · View notes

ohkiyo · 4 years

Text

character: shiratorizawa team and reader.

warnings: getting sick, mentions of reader neglecting their health. DON’T IGNORE YOUR HEALTH PEOPLE!

word count: 3.4k

a/n: cloud anon, I told you I was going to write a full fic of your fever idea. XD

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shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

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You gathered all the dirty towels and training bibs, dropping them into the basket you were holding so they could be wash. Humming a tune under your breath as you walk around the expanse of the gym to collect them all, practice for the day had already ended and the first years were in charge of cleaning up. The higher years were slowly retreating to their own dorm room to retire for the night.

“We’ll be going now” Tendou walks pass you, waving his hand as goes to where the others were standing by the door. Already washed and changed into fresh clothes.

“See you tomorrow”

“You have your umbrella with you right?” Semi looks at the sky and frowning at the approaching thunderclouds. “It looks like it’s going to rain again”

“I have one in my bag”

He nodded his head before they finally head out, leaving you and the rest of the first years to continue cleaning the gym. The boys now mopping the floor while the others gather all the volleyballs scattered in all corners of the gym, then throwing them into the basket where they are usually kept.

You went into the back area, loading the dirty towels and training bibs into the washing machine. Putting in the right amount of detergent and fabric softener before pressing the start button.

“The weather’s been very bad since we came back from Tokyo” Goshiki observes the dark clouds looming over the rest of the buildings around the campus. Flashes of lightning could be seen running through the sky. “It’s not even the rainy season yet”

“A new typhoon’s probably entering the country again” Sagae drops the mop he was holding as he helps you push the basket filled with volleyballs back into the storage room. The others following behind you already finished cleaning up. They pass you the mops, as you neatly place them where they were usually hung together.

You check the gym one last time, surveying the area for any more equipment that was left behind, before walking out and locking the storage room.

“It really started raining” Akakura slings his bag over his shoulder, rummaging through it for his umbrella.

The trees outside were swaying harshly due to the strong winds that blew pass them, raindrops pelting heavily on the rooftop buildings then dropping down on to the ground.

“We’ll go on ahead now” Goshiki waves them goodbye as he waits for you to finish packing your things.

“’Tomu-kun, did you bring your umbrella with you?” he looks down at you frowning at your bag; the items that you stuff inside were once again spread out on the floor. “I think I left mine in my room”

“I don’t have mine either, I was hoping to share with you”

You stared at each other for a whole minute, before realizing that you two are stuck in there until the rain stops or at least calms down. He drops down on the ground beside you, stretching his legs as he sighs.

“Guess we just have to wait it out then” thankfully, the two of you do not have any homework nor any test to prepare for the next day. Classes were a bit lax now that the first round of major exams was finished, the teachers were too busy checking and grading the papers to even bother assigning the students' homework and other school-related tasks.

“I’m hungry” Goshiki places a hand on his stomach as he feels it grumbles, demanding him to provide it nutrients to replenish the ones he had shed during the practice.

You pulled out a ziplock bag containing three sandwiches, the ones you made before going to practice that afternoon. You last class of the day had to be shortened due to your teacher having an emergency to sort out at home, because of that, you had an hour before you were needed for practice and you used that time to get some sleep and prepare yourself some snacks.

“Here you go” you gave him the other two as he gratefully accepts them from you, a quick thank you leaving his lips before he stuffs the bread in his mouth. Eyes closed shut, as his hungry stomach is finally being filled.

“The foods you make always taste so good (Y/n)-chan” he says before he took another large bite as you pass him your water bottle, scared he might choke with how fast he’s consuming those sandwiches.

“Calm down Tsutomu”

You both ate in silence, facing the open steel doors and watching from your spot how the heavy rain wrecks havoc outside of your safe space. Scattering around the leaves that had fallen onto the ground, and destroying the brittle flowerbeds that the gardening club had set up earlier.

“This is hopeless, the rain’s never going to stop” you pout, as the rain becomes even worst. “I don’t want to stay here all night”

“We could run from here to the dorms” Goshiki suggested wiping his hand with his handkerchief before grabbing his bag then standing up. “It will take us about 5 minutes”

You thought about it for a moment, you only have two options present and neither one of them was a good idea. It’s either you wait for the rain to stop - which is never - or you could agree to Goshiki’s plan to just run through the rain, but you’ll end up getting drenched in the process.

“Okay, let’s go” you decided to settle with Goshiki’s suggestion and hope for the best you won’t get sick.

Standing up, you remove your jacket, slinging your bag over your shoulder then rolling your tracks pants all the way up to your knees. Draping your jacket over your head to act as your temporary shelter as you brace the rain.

“Ready?” you grip your jacket tighter, before the two of you sprint across the empty field, screaming at the top of your lungs. Your clothes become wetter by the second, the water sipping through the fabric and cooling your warm skin.

“Bye! (Y/n)-chan!”

“Bye!”

You both went your separate ways, with you running down the wet pathway leading towards your dormitory, the water splashing beneath your shoes, dirtying the footwear.

By the time you reach your dorm, you were soaked, the water pooling at your feet. You quickly ran up the stairs and towards your room, startling your roommate at the sight of you.

“Let me go get your towel first” she immediately stood from her desk to grab your towel from the hamper, as you wait for her out in the hallway. The rest of the female students residing in your floor were giving you weird looks, as they walk in and out of their dorm room.

“Did you forget your umbrella again?” she passed you the towel, then drops a floormat in front of your foot for you to wipe your wet shoes on.

“I thought I had it in my bag” you close the door behind you, removing your shoes and wet socks, along with your wet clothes and underwear before throwing them into your laundry basket. Hopping into the shower to wash yourself up, then changing into your warmest pair of pajamas, and blow-drying your hair before finally falling asleep.

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You sat down on your desk, the headache you felt that morning had started to spread, now reaching your temples. Your sore throat, which was manageable just a few hours ago had become even worst and swallowing had become a challenge on your part.

“You’re sick” Goshiki leaned forward on his seat, the one that was in front of your desk, and stretch his hand to feel your forehead. “You’re running a fever (Y/n)-chan”

You remove his hand from your forehead, resting it on your desk. “I’m fine; the weather’s just warm is all”

“(Y/n)-chan, it’s raining” he pointed at the glass window to prove his point, as the rain once again showers the ground.

“Some people have high body temperatures ‘Tomu-kun, it’s no big deal” the look on his face really says it all, he doesn’t believe you. “I swear Tsutomu I’m fine”

He didn’t say a word after that, the teacher entering the classroom had ruined his opportunity to add more to his words. He turns on his chair to focus on the board as the teacher starts his lesson.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“(Y/n)-chan, you’re sick” this was the fourth time Goshiki had said this to you and its only lunch, the first three times you had denied them, you kept telling him that you were fine. However, each time that you do, a new symptom emerges.

During the second period, your throat started to get scratchy, a series of coughs racking your body, disrupting your class multiple times. In the third period a cold manifested, and now, the lunch that you were looking forward to eating does not seem appetizing at all.

“I hate this” you sniffled, staring at the chicken katsudon you bought. The smell of the chicken does nothing but makes you even more nauseous, you shook your head, pushing the bowl towards Goshiki.

“You need to go back to your room and rest; I’ll take you to the infirmary so you can get some medicine”

“I’ll attend our afternoon classes, but I’ll have to skip practice” you took a bite of the banana he gave you, hoping that at least it would compensate for the lack of proper meal.

After eating his lunch, you both went to Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei to request them to excuse you for a few days from practice. Not sure when your fever will subside, they gave you a week off and wish for your fast recovery.

Your afternoon classes went by in a daze; you immediately forgot what you did in class. You kind of regret not skipping the rest of your classes, but at least you got 5 points straight to your final grade because your science teacher was feeling generous that afternoon.

Once classes were done, you immediately went back to your room while Goshiki walks to practice alone.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” Semi asks, your absence from the first year’s side was the first thing he notices. You and Goshiki are always seen together that it was weird to see him alone.

“She had to do something for our teacher” he cleared his throat as he tried to maintain eye contact with the setter, remembering how you requested him not to tell the others of your fever. “So she might have to skip practice”

Semi seems to believe him though as he went back to bouncing the ball, Goshiki scurrying to the other side of the gym to start stretching. Hoping that no one else would have to question him.

“(Y/n)-chan’s absent today?” Yamagata looks around the area, his eyes failed to spot your figure which was usually beside their coach. Goshiki slowly moves to hide behind Ushijima, his tall figure covering him completely from their eyes.

“Tsutomu, you know where she went?” Goshiki had to curse Tendou’s observant eyes; he failed to realize the redhead was just standing beside their and already had his eyes on him the moment Yamagata started talking.

Ushijima look over his shoulder to see a mop of dark hair, he moved to the side, so Goshiki would have to give them properly his answer.

“She had to do something for our teacher” he said the same answer he gave to Semi earlier. However, some were not quite convinced though.

“Really? what would that be?” Shirabu peered at him through his growing bangs, the copper strands almost reaching his eyes.

“One of our teacher’s ask (Y/n)-chan to help her check the exam papers”

Semi places his hands on his hips as he sighs. “Tsutomu, I know you’re lying. What did you two do this time?”

“We didn’t do anything Semi-san!” Goshiki defended, pouting at how they would think you and him got in trouble again. Sure, you both may have served detention before, but it was only once.

“Are you sure Tsutomu?”

“Yes, Reon-san!”

Goshiki could only stare at them in disbelief. Gosh, he really shouldn't have promised to keep your fever a secret.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

"I told you, go back to bed!"

"And I'm telling you, I'm fine!"

"What are they arguing about?" Sagae questioned, eyes never leaving the two first years glaring at each other at the back of the class. "This is the first time I've seen them fight"

"(L/n)'s still sick and Goshiki's been telling her to go back to her room to rest"

"Oh"

They both watch the spectacle happening before them, their voices being drowned out by the other students inside the class. Although, some had been watching as well. Curious as to why the two closest people in their class were fighting, though it could hardly be called a fight.

"(Y/n)-chan if you don't get some rest, you're never going to recover"

You huff, taking a seat on your chair as you adjust the face mask you've worn. "I really am fine Tsutomu, it's not as bad as it was yesterday"

It's not bad, but it doesn't mean you were comfortable, your nose was still runny and you were coughing every few minutes. But you refuse to miss your lessons, if you're still able to attend a class then you're going to do it even if you're sick.

"(Y/n)! Someone's at the door looking for you!" one of your classmates called out, pointing to the close door at the back part of the room.

You stood up, pulling down your mask as it had become harder for you to breathe. Opening the door, you were met with a tall figure. Their chest right in front of your face.

"...uh" you slowly lift your head up to come face to face with Semi's piercing gaze. "Semi-san good morning"

You nervously laugh, shifting from one foot to another.

"(Y/n), why are you in class?" his voice was calm, it’s soft, music to your ears. But the look on his face? One wrong answer and you’re definitely getting an exclusive nag session.

"Because it's a school day?" you knew what he was talking about and you knew for sure why he's here.

But your question is, who told him?

You tried to look behind him to spot the culprit and your eyes spotted the familiar mop of dark hair belonging to your roommate, who was standing behind Semi. When her eyes met yours, she just shrugs her shoulders.

Apart from Goshiki, she was the first one trying to convince you to skip classes and rest. But just as always, you dismissed her worry and ran out of your room towards class.

"(Y/n) answer me properly"

You bit your bottom lip, tightening your hold on the door’s handle. You slide the door close and quickly ran to the other one near the chalkboard, hoping to hide in the girls' comfort room until class starts.

However, just as you step foot out of your classroom, a hand shot out of nowhere, grabbing the back collar of your uniform.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary and you're going to stay put in your room until you're healthy" Semi dragged you across the hallway and towards the nurse's office. Your classmates crowding at the door to watch for anything that would happen next.

"Someone's in trouble" Kawanishi snickered, eyes following your and Semi's figure as the third year pulls you towards the infirmary. His large hands lock around your wrist to prevent you from running away.

“Semi-san was bound to find out sooner or later” Shirabu turns on his heel to return to his classroom, Kawanishi tailing behind him.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

You sat on your bed, hugging your knees, staring at the little potted plant your aunt gave you. Its leaves all green and healthy, a product of you endlessly taking care of it.

You were currently alone in your room, your roommate went out to do something. You forgot what it was, but she told you about picking up someone, probably her classmate so they could do their homework.

A knock on your door reach your ears, you remained silent, the pain in your throat had made it hard for you to talk. (e/c) eyes now focus on the knob as it turned and eight tall bodies entered, all clad in their pajamas. Carrying all sorts of items.

"I'll be down the hall, have (Y/n) call me if you need anything"

You heard your roommate say from out in the hallway, before Semi finally closes the door, locking it.

"(Y/n)-chan, good evening" you gave Tendou a weak wave. He motioned for you to stand up as you did so slowly, your head spinning with every little move you make.

He took a hoodie from the bag they brought and put it on you, the material way too big for your body. He pulled out a jacket, putting it over the sweater you just wore before he wrap your neck with a scarf. For the finishing touch, Kawanishi drapes two layers of blanket over your head, wrapping it around your body.

It was soft and smelled nice, you felt so warm now. The layers of clothing coupled with the blanket were what you just needed.

"Don't you think she needs more?" Tendou rubs his chin, as you blink up at him.

"She will suffocate if you add more Tendou" Ushijima carefully sat you down again, folding the excess sleeves of the jacket and sweater you wore.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" you shook your head, which was a bad idea. "We have brought congee for you"

Reon passed you a bowl of the said food, as you cradled it in your hands. "Careful, it's still hot"

You scoop a small amount into your spoon as you gently blew on it, pushing the spoon in your mouth and tasting the food. It was delicious and easy for you to consume, the rice and pieces of shredded chicken sliding down your throat with ease. Your stomach finally settling on its chosen dinner.

Shirabu drags your chair and set up his laptop. A movie ready to be played on the video player for you all to enjoy while eating.

You patted the empty space beside you, Goshiki immediately claimed the spot on your left while Kawanishi and Shirabu claimed the other. The third years, sitting on the floor, each one holding their own bowl of food.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

"So who's carrying who?" Yamagata stared at the cute sight in front of him, their four juniors had fallen asleep in the middle of the movie and was now snuggled against each other on your bed.

"Let's just wake them up" Reon gently shakes them awake, making sure not to disturb you. Goshiki was the first to wake up, followed by Shirabu and Kawanishi, each one letting out a yawn.

"Is the movie finished already?" Shirabu rubs his eyes as he stood up, stretching his arms.

"Yes, let's go back" Semi checked your temperature one last time before he carefully guides your body to lay down on the bed and resting your head on your soft pillow.

They gathered their belongings, leaving the ones they wrapped you with before exiting your room. Your roommate, escorting them out of the building.

The next day you woke up feeling refresh, your nose was cleared, your headache was gone, and your throat feeling better. You finally recovered from your fever and you were finally able to do your manager duties again.

However, you did not expect to be greeted by half of the team going down with the sickness you suffered the week prior.

"Achoo!" Goshiki let out a groan as he pressed a hand on his head. Dropping down on the bench as he accepts the tissue you gave him.

The coaches don’t know where it came from since you never step foot in the gym during the time that you were sick. They suspect that it’s the weather, the constant rain showers, and low temperatures were a definite factor.

"Guess flu season came early" Washijou-sensei let out a sigh before announcing that practice will be put on hold for a few days. Ordering his players to go back to their dorms and rest until it all goes away.

#haikyuu x reader #shiratorizawa x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #shiratorizawa #ushijima wakatoshi #semi eita #tendou satori #yamagata hayato #oohira reon #shirabu kenjirou #kawanishi taichi #goshiki tsutomu

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scribblingfangirl · 3 years

Text

GLOWING IN THE DARK #1 | The Punisher - Billy Russo

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: Thank you so so much for the wonderful reactions to the first part of this series! I’m so happy you’re enjoying it and are interested in reading more! I honestly wasn’t expecting that! I hope you enjoy this part as well! I know it’s a bumpy ride: English is not my first language, I’m slowly trying to ease myself back into writing and this wasn’t beta-read. So please excuse the horrible mistakes! Also: As I’ve been asked I’m now including a taglist for this series at the bottom. If you want to get added to it just shoot me a message! (:

word count: ~ 3k

summary: A few years after making the deal with Frank Y/N arrives on a new base and promptly runs into a handsome dark-haired man, or rather he into her, as a game of British Bulldog is played.

warnings: suggestion towards rape (if I forgot anything, please tell me!)

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The silence was almost deafening and the cold humid air a relief after sitting in the loud helicopter, earmuffs could only do so much, and the hot dry air the rotators and motors brought to you for the past four hours. You were the first one out the helicopter, the rest of your crew with the exception of the pilot following suit.

"Welcome home... I guess?" Kosky, your crew chief, threw you your bag from the helicopter.

You heard a desperate sigh and turned around to see Dane, the co-pilot, poking at the ground. “That’s… that’s sand-like. Where the hell are we and how long are we going to be here? I didn’t pack for… whatever the hell this is,” he complained.

“Don’t be like that Dane,” Garth muttered as he leaned out the pilot door of the helicopter. “Don’t you have beauty products for all kinds of environments in your bag? Anyway, nothing to worry about. I’m sure Y/L/N will lend you some of hers if your sensitive skin breaks out or something.”

You snorted, closing the door behind him as he stepped out of the helicopter. “You’ll better be glad if I find an old, still usable Chapstick in the depths of one of my pockets. That will be the best thing I can offer you.”

“Anyway,” Kosky tried to bring your attention back to him, “I’ll go and talk with the commanding officer of this base and try to figure out why we were stationed here and if we’re going to be the only ones or if others will follow later. You guys try to find someone to show you around.”

“Sure, I’ll just quickly-,“ you started to say while you moved towards the helicopter again to get your mechanic kit, but shut your mouth when you felt, and then saw, Kosky glare at you.

"No. Pete's been a good boy. He deserves his rest and so do you. One that involves a good shower and some food. Let's go!"

x-x

Freshly showered and in clean clothes you made your way around the camp, catching some of the last sunrays of the day. You had lost Garth and Dane after running into a fellow Marine that showed you around and left you in front of the showers. Seeing as there were no other women on the base, and therefore, no need for separate showers the boys had proposed to stand guard while you showered after them. Why or when they decided to leave you alone was a mystery to you.

Braiding your wet hair, you walked around trying to recognize or remember anything you were shown or told during your quick tour. However, you only managed to catch a glimpse of Pete through the tents. ‘Better than nothing. Might as well quickly check him out and then go find someone. Who knows? Maybe someone will find me.’

As if your thoughts had manifested him a tall man with slicked-back dark hair and a rather well-groomed beard appeared from the other side of Pete. “They told me I’d find you here.” He gave you a once-over and chuckled. “Well, this certainly explains their usage of ‘she’ and ‘her’. Come on. You’re probably just as hungry as them.”

You followed the man quietly through the different tents until you started to hear noises. They grew louder and you finally realized that you were hearing voices and the clinking of kitchen utensils. A nice scent filled your nose the moment you entered the dining tent and almost immediately your stomach let out a loud grumble.

“Yeah, that’s what I guessed. Don’t worry. There’s still plenty of food. We eat in shifts and you’re just in time for the last one.”

You turned to face the man beside you and saw that he was already smiling down at you. ‘His eyes are just as dark as his hair. But they can’t actually be black, right? I’ve never seen such a deep brown in my life. They’re beautiful.’

“Y/L/N. Nice to see you found your way to us as well. I guess I’ll have to talk to Jandro and Dane tomorrow about team spirit and human manners. They’re back there,” he pointed to the back of the tent where you could make out Danes blond hair and a man with his face deep in his food, who was looking like he’d be eating his plate as well. Probably Garth. “They’ll show you to your tent. You three are roommates. I’ll brief you tomorrow about everything. Have a nice evening.” Leaving the tent, he nodded at the dark-haired man and disappeared from your view.

“Damn, a whole tent for just three soldiers? Normally I’d be jealous but seeing what nice friends you have there I’m not so sure anymore. I prefer knowing they got my back and don’t run away at the first sign of food.”

You laughed and waved that comment away. “You see the guy who’s currently almost eating his plate as well? That’s Jandro, but we all call him Garth, which is short for Garfield. I’m used to food being chosen over me. Hey, I don’t think I caught your name-”

“Y/N!” Dane and Garth shouted simultaneously over the heads of the soldiers as they saw you. “We’re so sorry! We were going to wait, but then someone passed by and told us it was dinner time. You’re a big girl, so we weren’t afraid of you drowning in the shower.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh you rolled your eyes as every last head in the tent turned towards you. Great. Pressing your lips together you just gave them two awkward thumbs-ups and thankfully everybody turned their heads back to their food.

“Come on, looks like they’re going to eat me next if I don’t finally deliver you.” The man pushed you through the space between the tables until you were seated next to Garth who pushed a full platter in front of you. Eyeing this gesture the man faced you one last time before disappearing somewhere in the dining tent. “Name’s Billy by the way. I’ll be around if you ever… decide on upping your friend game.”

x-x

After dinner, the boys showed you to your tent. Dane started to do his nightly routine while you and Garth decided to enjoy the early night exploring your new temporary home for the time being.

“I’ll go search for some of the guys who were sitting at our table. Don’t," he grabbed your wrist and raised his index finger to emphasize his words, “go checking on Pete.”

Walking around the base you once again saw Pete in the distance, crossed paths with familiar faces from dinner, to whom you nodded politely and even passed the showers. It would take you one or two days and seeing the base in broad daylight, but you knew you’d soon be able to find your way around.

A familiar tune caught your attention and you followed the sound of a guitar being played, accompanied by an oddly familiar, but really beautiful, singing voice.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly All your life You were only waiting for this moment to arise.”

Without any second thoughts, you pushed aside the plastic tarpaulin covering the entrance of the tent and stepped inside. The first thing you saw where the lined-up beds on either side of the tent. Somewhere occupied with men reading or writing something, but most of them were vacant, as their owners were sitting together either on or around two beds towards the end of the tent, creating a circle.

And then you saw him. There, leaning carefully against the tent wall, his trusted guitar in his hands, was Frank. But he wasn’t the one singing. Your eyes slid over the flock of men until they rested upon the dark-haired man – Billy – who was sitting on the bed beside Franks and just finishing the song.

An old memory shot through your head. Maria, Frank and you sitting in a car going to the airport. ‘That's why you've been pestering me into introducing her to Billy.’

Frank’s voice brought you back to the present. “You always have a guitar in deployment. Sit around, you got time to, uh, you know, learn new songs, come up with new shit."

Smiling you decided to make yourself known and stepped forward. "Yeah. You were always really good at the shit part. Though honestly? Where the hell do these new guitar skills come from? This actually sounded good!"

Frank’s head shot up and a smile took over his facial features. "Y/N!"

"She’s just being honest here, Frankie boy. This was by far your best- Wait, hold on. You guys know each other?"

But before either of you could answer Billy or anybody else could say something as well, Frank had thrown his guitar into the lap of the guy next to him and himself around your neck. “I knew it! When they told us a UH-1Y Venom with the callsign Blackbird would be arriving shortly I thought it might be you. But I didn’t want to get my hopes up. And then I saw the helicopter but couldn’t find you at dinner…” He had led you back to his bed and waved the guys away who begrudgingly dispersed back to their own beds or left the tent altogether.

“Billy, this is Y/N. The marine friend I told you about. She was a foot soldier as well but betrayed us for the sky. Not that I think it’s any better up there. Down here you can be naïve and only see what’s right in front of your nose, but up there… well. Anyway, met her through Maria. She was actually one of the women who had the guts to laugh at my excellent guitar skills. Y/N, this is Billy-”

“The guy you’re only allowed to introduce me to if you beat me in a round of friendly combat. At least as far as I remember.”

Billy smiled at that exchange and looked at Frank. “Ah yes, the deal. I heard stories about that. Didn’t think there’d actually be any truth to that though. I guess it’s a good thing we already met. You can’t possibly think of ignoring your knight that saved you from starvation by leading you to the glorious dining tent, sweetheart.”

“No, but I could try to arrange for you to be eaten by my boys if you keep calling me sweetheart.”

Raising his hand in surrender Billy turned around to lay completely on his bed and grabbed a book from the ground. “She’s got fire Frankie boy, gotta give her that.”

You got a quick glimpse of the title page of the book. The Picture of Dorian Gray. ‘A man that knows his literature, interesting. Would not have given him that one’.

“Though, sweetheart,” Billy said as he lazily opened the book and flipped through it, searching for the right page, “As much as I think I could handle your boys. We wouldn’t want that, would we now? God made me this way for a reason. Would be a real shame if I weren’t able to share the complete wealth anymore.”

‘Ah well, there it is. Never mind. Just another dude who is full of himself.’

Sensing your eye-roll from a million miles away Frank turned you towards him. “We like to call him ‘Billy the Beaut’. He still has to grasp the ‘quality over quantity’ concept. And! Before you ask, because I know you will, Maria hoped you’d become the quality. Frank leaned closer and shot a quick glance at Billy who kept on reading, “Deep down Billy’s a great guy. It’s just his defence mechanism.”

Sighing you stretched your arms into the air to relieve your back of some of the tension accumulated by the long flight and you didn’t even realize that your shirt raised a little bit to reveal the skin underneath. You did feel the looks the other men gave you though and felt how Frank quickly pulled the shirt back down.

“Watch it!” His tone made Billy look up from his book and take a confused look around. “This ain’t a space for a woman. They’re hungry, like feral dogs. Not that I like to think like that about my fellow Marines, but we are surrounded by war. Wouldn’t be the worst thing they do.”

“Fine…,” you stood up and faced the rest of the tent. “If you’re such dogs, let’s play fetch! This way I can show you that you shouldn’t cross my path… or of my boys.” You added that part specifically for Billy. “But don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you.”

You moved to face Frank again. “After all. You do kinda still owe me a friendly round of combat.”

“Tell us. What did you have in mind kid?”

x-x

It had started to rain in the time it took you to gather the majority of the base, including Garth and Dane. Laughing you shook your head, spread your arms and greeted the cold and heavy rain on your warm skin.

Garth, Dane and you were positioned opposite to the rest of the men (thanks to your big mouth), or where you guessed they would be. The dying light and lack of any other light source in addition to the rain didn’t make this an easy game. But a fun one.

“The rules are simple!” Frank’s voice boomed over the playing field and not even the rain was able to quiet him down. “Only one bulldog per player – we’re all grown-ups and do not need help or serious injuries – and to turn a player into a bulldog they have to be restrained to the ground for three full seconds. Be it on their back or their stomach, both count! Ready? Set. GO!”

At first, the splashing caused by multiple boots running across the playing field was the only thing you heard. Then came the first shout, shortly followed by another. Out of the corners of your eyes, you saw Garth and Dane crashing into two soldiers, taking them down with them and just in front of you, you were able to make out a shadow running straight towards you.

With a yell, Frank dove to the ground and knocked your legs out from under you. Creating a splash, you fell on your back, already trying to flip yourself to the side to have more possibilities to block anything Frank might throw your way. But Frank wasn’t there anymore.

Confused you stood up, blinking against the merciless rain trying to find Frank. Around you, several silhouettes were fighting each other. Some were still standing, others rolled around on the ground. Lone shoes and some t-shirts were spread on the playing field, almost undetectable under the rising level of water on the ground.

You heard him too late. With another yell Frank sprang on your back, making your knees buckle under you due to his weight. With a groan you hit the ground face first, his large body covering yours, making it impossible for you to move.

“Last time I checked I was the bulldog,” you panted, spluttering on the horrible muddy water accumulating in your mouth.

“Last time I checked you were the one who wanted a friendly round of combat. Obviously, I won, but don’t worry, you’ll get another chance.” And then he was gone again, and you gasped for air.

x-x

You had no idea how long the game had been going on. If it was still going on. Due to the conditions, it was impossible to know who was still a player and who had been already turned into a bulldog. Soon the others had taken you and Frank as an example and the game had turned into several friendly combats.

Just as you were contemplating asking around if the game was over, a body slammed into yours and took you straight to the ground with him. Automatically your legs went around his waist to try and flip you both around with the momentum, but the mystery man grabbed your throat lightly and put his elbows and part of his weight on your chest. You were trapped.

“What was this big speech about not crossing your path, sweetheart? I don’t see any actions following your words.” His breath and touch were scalding hot on your skin.

You weren’t even given the possibility to answer as a new voice boomed over the playing field. “Alright! That’s enough boys! To bed with you!”

In an instant, Billy let you go, stood up and disappeared in the darkness.

“Hey! We weren’t done yet!” you shouted through the sound-dampening rain.

“Give it up. You’ve been a helicopter gunner for way too long, you’ve lost your touch,” Billy answered from only a few feet away, grabbing some forgotten items to bring back to the soldiers. “It’s late and we’re frozen to the bone. We do have better things to do than catching pneumonia, you know?”

You huffed, almost swallowing a mouthful of water while foolishly trying to wipe the wet hair out of your face. "Like what? Reading literature and complaining about beans in your food and the unavoidable fart fest in your tents? No. You know what I think? I think you’re glad it ended. You’re afraid that I could actually kick your butt."

Billy smirked as he turned around to you. "I’d let you do much more to my butt than just kick it. I mean…," he stepped closer, leaned down until you could feel his breath on your neck and whispered, "If you want to see my backside, there are other - less violent and more pleasurable - possibilities to get what you want. All you gotta do is ask."

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Taglist:

@blackbirddaredevil23

#billy russo x reader #billy russo oneshot #billy russo one shot #billy russo #the punisher x reader #the punisher one shot #the punisher oneshot #the punisher #my writing #viascribbles

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lune-hime · 3 years

Text

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Tea Time #6

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

So these little Tea Times were written as little filler-memory chapters to place in between the main story line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Short and Sweet

↞♞♘↠

“Hey shorty have you finished signing off on these release forms?” Hange asked as she tapped into Levi’s office. Her question garnered crickets as he remained focused on his menial duties.

“Shortyyyy~?” She sang with a spring in her step as she entered and shut the large door. Levi paid as much attention to her as he did a fly perched upon his windowsill. He flipped over the last document and signed it.

“Captain short-stacks?” She prodded with an intricate skill at pressing his buttons.

“Fuck off shitty glasses.” He finally piped up aridly, his exhale ruffling the corners of his papers.

“I see you responded to the second one. I now endow you with this title-” Hange declared with a booming voice when a pen was thrown directly at her forehead. She barely caught it before impact and cackled at their childish antics.

“Oh come on, Levi. It’s a cute nickname for such a cutie patootie captain~” She cooed in an insanely sweet voice that made Levi feel like he was overdosing on rotten corn syrup.

“Coming from you, using me and cute in the same sentence is revolting. It would be a shame if I were to vomit on these documents.” He gagged in unamusement as he flicked his wrist which held the folder towards her. She gladly accepted it with a shit-eating grin.

“Well that wouldn’t hurt anyone other than yourself would it, shortkins?” She countered playfully. With the swiftness of a veteran scout, Hange poked Levi in the head with his pen and dodged out of range of any punches he could have thrown.

“Thanks Levi Shortyman, see you at breakfast!” She yelled over her shoulder as she skipped out of the room. Levi released his broiling irritation like a simmering kettle with a deep breath and attempted to rub the pet names out of his temple.

After a strenuous day of training the new batch of cadets that ran from the crack of dawn to a little over an hour ago, you found yourself in the kitchen babysitting a kettle of hot water. Leaning against the counter, you rested your head in your hands as the gentle humming of the stove sang you a lullaby.

“There you are.” A low voice dragged you out of your temporary humid home. Turning your head, you lazily smiled at Levi and gave him a languid wave.

“Tired?” He asked rhetorically as he approached. You nodded once and picked your head up out of your palms.

“Who knew training 30 inexperienced teenagers would be this taxing.” You exhaled. He tutted his tongue and came to lean against the counter next to you, his lower back resting against the cool surface. He regarded you as what little vigor you had left drained out of your body and into the wiggling kettle. A part of him desired to uncross his arms, scoop up your deflated form, and let his shoulder support your sleeping head. Much to his frustration, not even your exchange of fresh confessions could not fully decimate his wall of, dare he admit, awkwardness.

Of course he was experienced in fleeting romances; physical indulgences that ended with snips of threads. But he was a virgin to this type of love. Every touch to you was precious and he felt himself overcalculating his motions.

“Now you know how tiresome it was to train your group of brats.” The jest within his tone warmed his otherwise impassed features.

“I guess everyone is a brat until they capture your heart, Levi.” You pouted slyly and gave his arm a weak poke.

“No one has but you, idiot.” The casual nature of his tone even surprised him with how fluidly it slipped out of his mouth. The strangeness of dewdrops on a newly bloomed petal curdled between the two of you. Thankfully the shrill whistling of the kettle overpowered any bumbling reply you could have generated.

“What kind are you making?” Levi cleared his throat as you doused the stove and moved the kettle off of the flame to cool.

“A batch of chamomile for Hange and I. English breakfast for Erwin and Mike-they still need the caffeine tonight-and of course earl gray for you.” You struggled to suppress a yawn as you recited the flavors. Levi felt his bones soften to jelly at your thoughtfulness.

“None of your special tea this evening.” He mused with disappointment in his tone. You admired the scrunch of his nose that you knew he was oblivious to.

“Nah, I ran out a few nights ago.” You hummed as you began laying out five cups on the counter.

“You didn’t grab the tea bags yet.” Levi stated. With a spry push-off, he strode over to one of the many cabinets that overhung the counter. You smiled in appreciation and turned back to the hot water.

A clanking followed by a dull thump brought your attention back to him. The scene unfolding next to you caused you to inhale sharply and inflate your cheeks with your impending laughter.

Tiptoes propelled him upward just short of firmly grasping the tea tins. Two out of the 3 tins had been acquired in the lower cabinets but the remaining one was perched on the highest one on the shelf. Levi bounced on his heels once in an attempt to stretch his spine longer but he gained only enough height to allow his fingers to brush the bottom of the wooden chamber.

You silently observed him struggle with guilty amusement. In candid moments like these he was just so… adorable . When he stretched again, the hem of his crisply ironed shirt rode up and the downy smooth skin of his hip peeked out. His raven locks bounced with his body and just barely shielded his deeply furrowed brow.

“Which one of those lanky ass trees put them up so high?” He grumbled under his breath.

You really tried to spare his dignity. You really did. But you couldn't keep away any longer as he wiggled upward.

As you padded over to the little ball of anger you comically frowned deeply to continue to quell your impending giggle. Honestly you couldn't blame him for not being able to reach. That cabinet was placed so annoyingly high that even you were only barely able to grasp its contents.

Levi immediately halted his movements when he noticed your presence at his side. His head swiveled sideways and met your gaze with a childish frustration.

Holy fuck don't laugh.

Your gentle nudge pushed Levi to the side with a stiffness in his form. He eyed you as nabbed the tea tin in a single hop.

“Shorty.” You teased with a fond smile that was devoid of anything but kitten-like affection. Leaning down, you pecked him on the lips just before your giggle broke free from its imprisonment. Then you snatched the tins and returned to your brewing station.

Levi remained camped out on the other side of the kitchen. He felt a bubbling warmth swarm his cheeks as his mind replayed your honeyed voice saying the nickname he could care less for.

But when you said it, so sweetly and lovely... walls he felt whipped.

"Aww-why does she not get sass for calling you shorty?" Hange whined from the doorway. Her sudden appearance only fueled your laughter as you placed the tea leaves in their respective cups and began showering them in a hot bath.

Levi scowled at the woman and brought a hand to rub his jawline, masquerading his rosy cheeks from her pointed view.

“Your fucking off time has not expired yet, Hange.” His warning was muffled as you handed your old squad leader her tea.

Levi learned an important lesson that day: he didn't mind being teased if it was by you.

Honorifics

↞♞♘↠

“I’ll make sure he reads through these, Armin.” You smiled sweetly at the boy and he nodded with a grin of his own. Levi’s eyes flitted from you to Armin in a wordless manifestation of ~is that all~ from his desk.

“Thank you, sir.” Armin saluted and politely slipped out of the door to Levi’s office. You sighed peacefully as silence fell between you two.

“I’ll admit there tends to be interesting plans that come out of that coconut hair.” Levi commented and placed the papers aside.

“Thank you for giving his ideas an extra look, Captain.” You said, masking your fledgling slyness with nonchalant innocence.

Levi suddenly felt like he was being waterboarded when that single word left your lips. His eyes narrowed as you rounded the corner of his desk and idly began flipping through Armin's plans.

"What did you just call me?" He pressed, feeling frozen as an alluring blend of bewilderment and desire swam through the ice of his surprise.

“What do you mean, sir?" You responded with a shrug. Your thumb preoccupied itself with the smoothness of the paper while your mind indulged itself in your fantasized musings.

“That.” He emphasized his speech with a crispness of a seasoned officer.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, captain. Maybe you misheard me.” You continued with an added layer of heated sultriness. Levi's initial shock had dulled to a buzzing hum as the atmosphere between you switched from feigned innocence to dripping in lust.

You hadn’t addressed him with honorifics since you had been promoted to a squad leader. The double entendre and impish aura had his head swirling with an exhilarating dizziness of lust and vigor. Levi bit the inside of his cheek as he watched you discreetly press your thighs together, trying to keep yourself from seeming just as needy as he was beginning to feel.

And walls the way your eyelashes fluttered like a doe’s to the bashfulness of your posture was all so very- submissive. It excited Levi’s nerves and stirred his legs to twitch in anticipation of contact.

“Then why don’t you come over here and repeat yourself so I can hear you clearly.”

He pushed off the desk and swiveled in his chair to leave his lap exposed to you. You greeted his invitation with a smirk and painstakingly slowly made your way over to him. You grasped the arms of his chair and swung your legs over his, hovering over his lap for a moment to deprive him of his much desired contact. He almost let out a noise of frustration when you finally settled into him, smugly rocking your hips forward as you scooched into his chest.

“Can you hear me now, sir?” You cooed at the shell of his ear and gently nibbled on the soft flesh of his earlobe. He exhaled as your mouth moved southward.

Levi gulped. Your syrupy words and steamy breath began heating his insides from the nape of his neck. He felt himself twitch upward as your plush thighs once again rubbed against his straining erection.

A wave of satisfaction rushed through you when you felt how hard he was already. He wasn’t always very vocal in his desires as a lover. But with each passing day you became more intimate with what made him tick and could instantly tell he was beginning to enjoy this power play. He had been powerless over many things in his life, and in the most primal yet nurturing way, the thought of lording over you with pleasure drove him wild.

Levi felt like his body was screaming with this invigorating rush of arousal. It was a sensation you had given him countless times before. But the feeling of power that you were inflating into him blanketed him in a new rush of exhilaration that had butterflies flitting against his chest.

Quickly catching onto your plan to tease him, he was not going to let you get away with it. He was your captain , after all. He suddenly clasped your hips with a force that made you whimper. He adjusted you so that your hot core was pressed intoxicatingly close to the taught muscles of his thigh.

He regarded you, pupils dilated, as his hands forced you along the expanse of his thigh. Your hips instantly responded to his actions, rolling yourself against him as sparks began flying through you.

“Hmm. Is this what you wanted your captain to do?” Levi hummed lowly, bouncing his leg upward as he ground your hips harder onto him. Your lips detached from his neck as your head fell to his shoulder, the sweet friction making it hard to focus on anything else.

“I-dammit Levi I was the one who was supposed to seduce you.” You moaned breathily; a mixture of defeat and excitement as his movements further ignited your bundle of nerves.

“I’d say you were pretty successful.” Levi praised, leaning in to capture your wanton lips with his own. The kiss deepened to match the fervedity that glued you to one another. The sinfulness of the way your body gave into his guidance and the lingering awareness that the two of you had forgotten to lock the damn office door only fueled his rough touches.

“I still haven’t gotten an answer to my question, brat.” He reluctantly broke away, humming with a hungry gravel as he squeezed your ass with passionate intent.

When you didn’t answer, Levi tightened his hold and rocked his hip so fluidly that you felt like you were caught in a current of bliss. Both of you were drowning in the heavy petting; you relishing in the pleasurable friction that his muscular thigh brought your clothed core and him feeling your wetness through his trousers as he brought you teetering over the edge with just a flick of his leg and a roll of his hips.

Your plan had instantly backfired, and although you were the antithesis of complaining, it felt lewd to express your desires aloud. But by the way his eyes bore into yours, dripping with metallic lust and silently commanding you to tell him made you whimper and grind against him with even more desperation.

“Tell me.” Levi huskily instructed, immediately halting his flow and keeping you agonizingly still. Your legs were softly shaking at the loss of contact, hands balling the fabric at his shoulders.

Electric tendrils bounced freely in the space between you as you looked down at him, your chest heaving and panting.

Wordlessly your hand reached for his. Your intertwined palms moved up your torso, brushed over your breasts, and stopped at your neck. Levi felt your rapid pulse point under his thumb and his own heartbeat became erratic. His eyes widened at your bold move.

His grip lay loose, hesitant against the sensitive area. Hurting you, especially accidentally, was the last thing he wanted to do. As a child he saw how his mother was mistreated, cast aside and abused by hungry men. But the way your teeth toyed with your plush lips and your eagerness to retake your spot on his thigh caused blood to rush from his head down to his cock. You gave him a willing smirk. If you wanted him like this he would gladly give it to you.

“Make me cum.” Your voice oozed with silken demand while your neck craned to expose the smooth flesh to his palm.

And just like that, the electricity crackled.

Levi slammed you back down onto him and guided you at a heavenly pace while his other hand applied pressure to your neck. He almost came himself as he watched you unfold on the precipice of your ecstasy; writhing in pleasure under his control and using him to chase your orgasm beneath his grip.

You didn’t need to vocalize with words that you were close for Levi to know. The nectarous moans of his name and the erratic nature of your thrusts were sensory overload for him as he unbuttoned your pants.

In exchange for slowing his pace a bit, he slipped his free hand into your underwear. He reveled in your high-pitched gasp when his coarse fingertips made contact with your clit. The combined warmth and pressure from Levi's hands on opposite ends of your body catapulted you into your orgasm as you rutted against his thigh. Your vocal cords vibrated in sensuous moans against his constraint.

As you recovered from being perched on your high, he brushed his thumb lightly up your neck and let it rest along your cheek. He peered at you dazed in the afterglow of want and appreciation. Teasingly, he wiggled his fingers over your over-sensitive clit and chuckled in amusement when you squirmed in place. With a delicate sweep that would put a painter to shame, he drew his hand out of your pants. The velvety knot recoiled in your stomach when Levi brought his slick fingers to his lips and sighed in contentment.

Oh you were so ready to wipe that beautiful smirk off of his face and reclaim what you rightfully started.

Your arms drew along the expanse of his arms, sliding you down and out of his lap until your knees pressed onto the chilled wood floor. Levi’s eyes trailed yours as you slithered downward, argent orbs darkening when you palmed his straining crotch.

You wasted no time in unbuttoning his pants and releasing his cock from its confines. His eagar member was glossy with precum, revealing just how much you had riled him up. Your tongue started at the base, licking a hot streak languidly up his shaft and swirling your strokes when you reached the tip.

Levi released a heavy breath when your mouth took him fully. As your head bobbed along his length, not once did he drop his head back as the pleasure began to build. Through his panting, lip-toying, nostril flaring, and eventual groan of euphoria, the molten silver within his eyes occupied your gaze. You watched as his brow knitted and features contorted in rhapsody all while his commanding focus lay unwavered. The forge fire raging in them held your head to him and made you flush under their intensity as you swallowed and released him from your mouth.

“I wish I had called you captain earlier.” You winked up at him, a blissful half smile forming on his features.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He chuckled and leant you his hand to help you up off of the ground.

#levi #levi x reader #drabble #LEVI ACKERMAN #AoT #aot imagine #aot x reader #aot fluff #snk #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #hange zoe #jean kirschstein #bisexual jean #levi/reader

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Darkness/Poison

This is part of the ‘Doorways’ series (aka Danny is an eldritch abomination and Jack and Maddie have no normal friends so they decide to go on a road trip to make sure none of their friends from college have become semi-satanic soul-eating holes in reality AU).

AO3 link to series.

The Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle did not have the smoothest ride in the world, but Danny was used to it. Also, he had driven the Specter Speeder through the Carnivorous Canyon and ridden in Johnny 13’s sidecar.

Point being, if his parents didn’t want him to fall asleep, they should have told him. Or, at least, not dragged him out of bed at four thirty in the morning (both to get an early start and to avoid the reporters and other undesirables who had taken to circling Fentonworks like vultures).

Look. Danny might have been an unspeakable eldritch horror, a superhero, and one of the richest human beings on the face of the Earth, but he was also a teenager. Not to mention sleep deprived.

Besides, Mom and Dad had said their next Paranormal Research Club friend was miles and miles away. They wouldn’t reach his town until much later in the day. Danny had plenty of time to sleep safely.

Which is why he was so disgruntled when Dad shook him awake with a cheery “We’re here!”

“Where’s here?” asked Danny, rubbing his eyes and noting sadly how far away his portal back in Amity Park was.

“Breakfast,” said Jazz, voice heavy with sleep. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one trying to take advantage.

“’Kay,” said Danny, briefly wrestling with the seatbelt. He caught Mom staring as he opened the door. “What?” he asked frowning.

“Nothing,” she said, unconvincingly.

Whatever. Danny could figure it out later, when he was more awake. He jumped to the ground.

“I think you guys will really like it here!” said Dad, waving at the building. “The food’s great! An old friend owns the place. Your mom and I used to come here all the time before you were born, when we were commuting between Amity and Chicago.”

Danny nodded along, staring up at the neon sign that read ‘Red Flower Dinner.’ Then his brain caught up, and he slowly turned his head to look at Dad.

“’Old friend,’” he said. “What do you mean old friend?”

Dad blinked at him, uncomprehending. Jazz came to his rescue.

“Dad, we’re doing this whole trip because all of your old friends are lunatics,” she explained.

“They’re not!” said Dad, defensively. “Besides, Marianne was never part of our club. She didn’t even go to U of M.”

“She was a waitress at our favorite hangout,” explained Mom. “She got enough saved to buy this restaurant around the time we graduated. She’s few years older than us.”

“Saved? I thought a relative died, and she got an inheritance?” asked Dad.

Danny groaned. “Do you not see how suspicious that is?”

“Come on, Danno! We can have normal friends.”

“No, you can’t. If a normal thing ever interacts with our family in any way, it immediately becomes abnormal simply because of how unlikely it is for anything like that to happen.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars.

“He’s got a point,” said Jazz. “Maybe we could go to a different dinner?”

“But,” said Dad, “she makes the best breakfast. And she really is normal. She wasn’t involved in any ghost stuff.”

“Are you really telling me you never talked to her about ghost stuff at all?” asked Danny, suspiciously.

“Well, we did,” said Dad. “But we talk to everyone about ghost stuff.”

“Dad…”

Dad inhaled and heaved a huge sigh, shoulders sagging. “Alright, Danno. I get what you’re saying. We can go somewhere else… Even if it won’t be as good.”

Okay. Now Danny felt bad.

Unfair.

“Well,” he said. “I guess we could check and make sure she’s not, you know, haunted or anything. That’s why we’re doing this, I guess.”

Dad brightened immediately, and Danny had to grab the back of his shirt to keep him from running in.

“But remember, if I say we have to go, we have to go. That’s the deal.”

Dad nodded. Danny let go. He sighed as Dad disappeared into the building.

“Is the food really that good?” asked Danny.

“Marianne grows a lot of her own herbs,” offered Mom with a shrug. “Everything she makes is at least decent. But, well,” she grimaced as she held the door open for her children. “The reason we liked her so much was that she always seemed interested in our research. We liked talking to someone who took us seriously.”

“Wonderful,” deadpanned Jazz.

The décor inside the dinner was bright red and floral. The seats and benches were upholstered in shiny, dyed leather. A long glass counter displayed pies and other desserts under bright lights. The air was warm and smelled faintly of cherries. A radio station played quietly in the background, blurring the chatter of the other guests.

Danny rubbed his eyes again. Ugh. He was tired. Sleeping in a moving vehicle was a special kind of unrestful. Heh. Unrestful dead. More like unrested dead. That was him.

(Someday, he was going to track down the first person to say, ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead,’ and give them a stern talking to.)

“Marianne!” boomed Dad, waving at someone in the kitchen behind the order window.

There was a gasp. “Jack Fenton! Is that you?” A woman with greying brown curls leaned out, then ducked away briefly before reappearing through a door. “I haven’t seen you in years!” She threw her arms out, hugging first Dad and then Mom.

Danny bristled at the perceived threat to his parents but managed to control himself. This was nothing. Everything was fine. Just because every one of his parents’ friends so far had something weird and potentially fatal going on so far, it didn’t give him the right to police their every interaction with other human beings.

“Are these your kids?” asked Marianne, excitedly. “Oh, my goodness, you must be Jazz, and you’re Danny? I’ve only seen you in pictures, but you’ve grown so much. You’ll be as tall as your dad in no time.”

“Hope so,” said Danny, knowing there was no chance of that happening whatsoever.

Not with his human body, anyway.

“I hope we’ll get a chance to talk,” she continued, “but I have things on the stove. Why don’t you go ahead and find a seat? We’ll get to you soon.”

“Looking forward to it, Marianne!” said Dad, waving again.

“Is she alright?” asked Mom quietly as they slid into a corner booth. ��

Danny wound up in between Mom and Jazz, which was good, because Dad tended to elbow whoever he was sitting by. In this case, Mom, who could take it.

“I think so?” He rubbed his eyes. “But I can’t just sense everything. Don’t forget that.”

“Stop rubbing your eyes,” said Mom.

“They’re itchy,” said Danny. “I think I got some sleep sand in them or something.”

Mom’s expression softened. Danny blinked at it and wondered when he’d gotten so used to seeing an edge of suspicion on her face.

“It could be allergies,” she said. “It’s that time of year. Or it could be that you keep rubbing them.” She tugged his hands away from his face. “Either way, it isn’t healthy to keep touching your eyes, sweetie.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t have a point, but Danny wasn’t entirely sure he could get sick. Not anymore. Maybe if he was far enough away from Amity Park, spread thin enough between his two major physical manifestations… If his body was human enough… Maybe figuring that out could be a fun family bonding experience. Not.

He yawned. He wanted to go back to sleep. Being in here, with the warm scented air and not-quite-white background noise, only made slumber more inviting.

Still. His family’s ability to protect themselves was lacking. Danny at least had to stay conscious in case Marianne decided to channel the spirit of Locusta or something. Ancients, wouldn’t that be typical?

A waiter came, introduced themself, and handed out menus. Danny failed to process most of the waiter’s prepared speech, and his eyes drifted down to the menu.

It seemed… normal, for lack of a better word. Slightly worn, a couple stains on the paper behind the plastic protector. The pages had a border of blotchy red flowers. The items were all typical breakfast foods. Nothing jumped out at him.

He wasn’t even hungry. Actually, if he thought about it, he was a little nauseated. Sometimes that happened when he didn’t eat for a while, though, so maybe he was hungry, after all?

Why did bodies have to be so complicated?

“What are you getting?” asked Jazz, who was morally unable to make a food order until she’d taken a poll.

“I don’t know,” said Danny, folding his arms on the table and letting his head rest on them. “I’ll probably just get whatever you’re getting.”

Jazz frowned at him and repeated the question to their parents.

The waiter came back after a few minutes.

“I’ll have the Variety Breakfast!” said Dad, excitedly.

“The number five, please,” said Maddie. “Sausage links, not bacon.”

“Um,” said Jazz. “How about the Red Flower Special?”

“Excellent choice,” said the waiter, smiling. “Marianne grows all the seasonings for that herself, and the presentation is lovely.”

“I mean, it’s pancakes, right?” asked Jazz, nervously.

“It is, it is. What would you like for your side?” It took just a few seconds for the waiter to get the rest of Jazz’s order, then they turned to Danny. “And what are you having today?”

“Same as her,” said Danny, waving in Jazz’s general direction.

“Good choice, good choice,” said the waiter. “We’ll be back soon!”

“Thanks!” said Dad. He reached over Mom to pat Danny on the shoulder. “See? This is just a completely normal restaurant.”

“Mhm,” said Danny, dubiously. He’d believe it when he got out of here with his questionably mortal coil and squishy, murderable human family intact.

Okay. Maybe he was being a bit overdramatic, now. Was it because he was too far from the Amity portal? He’d been sure it wouldn’t significantly affect him, though. It wasn’t as if physical distance meant much in this context. Sure, he wasn’t on his home turf, but still…

Of course, he was a teenager. Teenagers were supposed to be overdramatic. At least, that’s what he’d heard. Being a teenager didn’t come with a manual any more than being a half-ghost superhero did, quirky TV shows about middle school notwithstanding.

Yeah. That sounded reasonable. He was a teenager who’d been woken early, and it was still early, and that meant the world was terrible. Excellent math.

He sipped at the water the waiter had left him, pleased with himself.

Which is when his and Jazz’s orders arrived. Danny caught a glimpse of red on him plate, abruptly recognized the prickling feeling in his eyes, expelled the water he was drinking from his nose, and propelled himself sideways across Mom and Dad and out of the booth.

“Ah!” he said, pointing at the red-tinted pancakes and the pretty little flowers on top.

The plating really was nice. Just like the waiter said.

The whole dinner was staring at him.

“He’s got allergies,” explained Jazz, her voice just a little too high pitched. “Just—Really horrible allergies. To flowers like this.”

“Blood blossoms,” said Danny. He was reasonably certain the things wouldn’t kill him, he wasn’t sure that anything short of something like Gula could kill him, but every encounter he had with them had been painful beyond belief, and he doubted that their being cooked would help very much with that.

“Right. Blood blossoms. The name always slips by me… Haha.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Marianne, rushing out of the kitchen. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know anyone was allergic to them! It’s just, you guys always talked about how they were lucky, and they got rid of bad spirits, so I thought I’d incorporate them, and they’re red, which is also lucky, and they taste so good—”

“Marianne,” said Mom, poking at one of the flowers, “where did you even get these? I thought they were extinct.”

“Oh,” said Marianne, “my uncle, the one who died, well I guess they’re all dead, now, but… The one who left me enough to buy the dinner? He worked in seed conservation. I got his personal collection.” She sniffed, apparently on the edge of tears.

“Ah,” said Mom, glancing at Danny. “That’s interesting. Um.” She slid out of the booth. “I’m really sorry, Marianne, but,” she gestured in Danny’s direction. “Food allergies.”

“He’s had breakouts just from being around them, before,” added Jazz, helpfully.

“Oh, no, no, I understand. Um. One second, let me give you my number, I don’t want to fall out of contact again, oh, dear. Tracy! Give me your notepad!”

It took several more minutes for all the Fentons to make their way back outside, most of which Danny spent staring into the dinner through the large front windows, keeping an eye on his family. Maybe he didn’t have ‘allergies’ in the typical sense but being around blood blossoms was making his skin itch and prickle unpleasantly.

Eventually, however, after Dad had shoved most of his order down his throat in a single go, they all got back into the GAV.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” said Jazz. “You two have no normal friends.”

#danny phantom #ectober week #ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober week 2020

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abreathofthewild · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates, Chapter 2/?

Summary: After the events of Endgame, the Avengers try to regain a semblance of normalcy. Steve Rogers decides to move to a small town, get a regular job and a regular roommate…

Word Count: 3709

Warnings: mentions of alcohol. aftermath of a break-in. mentions of blood (small amount!). suggestiveness. eventual warnings for traumatic flashbacks and ptsd. eventual warnings for smut.

Notes: Hello friends! As promised, Chapter 2 of And They Were Roommates is here. I had a ton of help from @gothiclocalcryptid who went above and beyond proofreading and editing with me so HUGE shoutout to her <3. It was so much fun writing this chapter, especially since I got the inspiration to somehow double the word count?! My essays could never. Thanks for reading and I hope y’all enjoy!

Links: Chapter 1

The physical act of getting out of bed two hours later was nearly impossible. You could care less if you fell into a hole and never came back out. Even the sun rising, soft and golden over the skyline, and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans serenading your senses didn’t really improve your mood.

“Not to be rude, but you look like death warmed over.” The second opening barista, Vanessa, almost never minced words. This morning was no exception. You shot her a playful glare as you followed her to the back, throwing your bag and jean jacket into your locker as she placed another tray of crescents in the oven. “Long night?” The question was followed by her handing you an iced coffee with heavy cream, just the way you liked it.

“How’d you guess?” Your question and expression dripped with sarcasm. “Steve--”

“Steve. Steve! If I hear this story I know I’m going to feel like kicking his ass.”

You gathered your hair into a ponytail and sighed, taking another long sip of your drink. At 6:30, customers were starting to file in, but the early birds were sporadic; it wouldn’t get really busy until about 9 or so. Your face lit up as you greeted the older woman who had walked up to the counter, and she frowned as she heard the tail end of Vanessa’s sentence. After making her latte with no foam, you proceeded to set up extra pastries in the display case and wipe down the countertops.

“Look. He pays half the rent, and we never specified we couldn’t bring people to the house. But sometimes, he decides that 2 AM is a good time to bring home… guests.” You didn’t need to bring other people down to get your point across. But... there was an underlying feeling there you didn’t want to acknowledge. Sure, these girls were gorgeous, but they seemed so… fake. Maybe they didn’t seem fake, so much as not right for Steve. Vanessa saw the excuse me expression manifest on your face as you warred with the thought. You proceeded to tell her how the rest of the young woman’s visit had gone. “...And now he’s picking me up when I get off.” You decided to leave out the part where you walked in and he had watched you watch him. The part where your heart had stuttered so hard in your chest you knew the super soldier could hear it. The part where his mouth so close to your ear had sent a shiver tripping down your spine.

“Earth. To. Y/n.” Vanessa’s mouth was agape as she waved her hand in front of your face. “Girl, where the hell did you go just then? Is there something you’re not telling me? I mean, what could be better than finding out that Captain America is taking my favorite coworker on a date?!”

“It’s not a da--”

“Ah! Ah! Don’t interrupt me! What could be better than finding that out? You’ve despised his cocky attitude. He brings random girls home all the time. It’s not very considerate. He knows he’s too beautiful for his own good and he shows it. Yet, despite being woken up like two hours before you had to get ready for work, you’ve gotten surprisingly peppy the longer you’ve been here. Could it be… No.” Vanessa gasped as a huge shit-eating grin plastered itself on her face. You eyed her warily while the sudden feeling of being totally exposed washed over you. “Could it be you like him?” You shook your head vigorously. Nope. No way.

“Um, no? You just gave me a bullet list of all the things to dislike. I’m sure he was different… before… We all were. He is a hero. Always will be. But he’s at a different point in his life now. I haven’t seen the good guy side of him in person.” Your mind skipped over his smile in the photo on the mantle. “He’s a cad!” You said in your best British accent. Vanessa glared at you in playful disbelief.

“Sure. Okay. I’ll play along. Do you even know where you’re going? Do you have anything to change into?” She emphasized the last question like it was the most important thing in the world. You shrugged your shoulders. In all honesty, the only thing you could focus on that morning was to throw some makeup staples in your bag as you had stumbled out the door. She closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. “It’s all good. I’ve got something. I always keep a dress in my car, just in case.”

“Vanessa, you’re too much,” you giggled. “I don’t really wear dresses. He sees me like this every day. It’s not a date. He’s taking me out as an apology. If he can’t deal with me in jeans and a t-shirt, that’s his problem, not mine.”

“You’re with me for another six hours, and I can be very convincing.”

Sure enough, 12:45 rolled around--the two mid-shifters taking over for you two having already clocked in--and Vanessa was pushing you into the employee bathroom to change. You applied some mascara, tinted chapstick, and slipped into the dress. The white cotton felt like heaven, and the v-neck did everything for your curves. You made a mental note to attempt to get something for her that could pay her back. After you let your hair down from the ponytail that was starting to give you a slight headache, you stepped out and grabbed your bag. When you came around front, Vanessa stopped dead in her tracks.

“Ay, Dios mio! You’re gonna make me regret wearing that dress after you, ‘cause I know it won’t look that good on me.” She hooked her arm in yours as the two of you meandered to the front of the coffee shop. “Are you nervous?”

You turned your head sharply in her direction. Were you nervous?

“No, why would I be?”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I am still 100 percent convinced this is a date. I would be nervous. What time is it?” You glanced at your phone screen. The numbers read 1:06. A slight flutter of uncertainty pinged around your chest. That first thought of this is stupid… I’m stupid. You shook your head to clear it.

“Let’s go outside and wait. It’s so pretty out today!” It was. There were exactly five tables and chairs outside, and luckily, the one that sat under the dogwood tree was free. It was tucked farther in the back, closer to the building, with an unobstructed view of the street. These factors all made for good people watching. One considerably long conversation later, which had been punctuated by periodic glances at your phone under the guise of checking the time, Vanessa finally hopped up from her seat, planting her hands firmly on her hips as she leveled a stern look at you.

“Uh-uh, we’re not doing this. He proved whatever point needed to be proved. You’ve got better things to do with your time. There’s a new little Mexican-Korean fusion place down the street that I’ve been dying to try. We could drive there faster than you can walk home!” She held her hand out to you, and amidst the usual ‘I’m sure something came up’ excuses you were making for him (making excuses for him--what even was that thought process), you decided to take her lead on things. It wasn’t exactly like you were surprised but it still felt like a rock had been dropped in the pit of your stomach. The afternoon sun was now beating down on the two of you, and an air-conditioned building sounded so good.

“I do have to go home at some point though,” you intoned on a sigh. “It’s gonna be awkward. Probably. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll act like nothing happened.”

Vanessa scoffed. “Unlikely, but some good food and a couple of margaritas will be sure to help that anxiety float away.”

“Nessa! Day drinking? I’m simply scandalized.” But once again, Vanessa was right, and after a Korean Lime Margarita and some excellent Kimchi street tacos, you were in high spirits and ready to take on whatever awaited you back at the house. Vanessa offered to give you a ride home, but you opted for the fresh air and the walk since you were about twenty minutes away. It would give you time to clear your head.

The sun was still out in full force, but a lively breeze had come about so that by the time you turned off of Main Street onto Pine Street, you felt as if you were walking on clouds. Steve had better things to do with his time than to make sure your feelings weren’t hurt. You were a grown woman and he had apologized last night. And if he had been rude today by not shooting you a text letting you know he couldn’t make it… well, it wasn’t unexpected coming from the Steve you knew.

You were so engrossed in giving yourself a pep talk that you got up to your front door, key in hand, without noticing that the door was in fact already open. Immediately the hairs went up on your neck. Something was off. Your breathing came out a little bit fast and shallow. Where was Steve? It was the first thought you could latch on to. He wouldn’t be home. Right? If somebody had broken in he would have made fast work of them. Maybe you were being silly. Should you call out for him? Should you even go inside?

You stood frozen on the doorstep, keys in hand as a makeshift weapon, until you heard noise coming from inside. It sounded like someone was sweeping up broken glass. A sigh of relief escaped your lungs when you finally stepped over the threshold and made your way past the living room and into the kitchen. There was Steve, the door to the backyard open and letting in the breeze. The first thing to catch your eye was the cabinet door hanging on one hinge. The second was all the broken glass. There was so much of it, probably from the dishes that had fallen out of the broken cabinet. Steve was sweeping it into the dustpan. The third thing you noticed was when he finally realized you were there, and he turned to you on a dime. You took in his face; it was flushed, and a nasty open gash was slowly bleeding down the left side of his face.

Time stopped for a moment as the two of you watched each other. The light coming through the west-facing kitchen window was golden, slanting in such a way that it hit Steve’s hair just right, setting it alight. At first, his expression was uncertain. Then his eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, as he realized what he had missed. He turned and threw the debris into the trash can he had dragged to the middle of the floor. His movements were slow, deliberate. You set your bag on the hook next to the open door and walked over to the sink, grabbing a cloth and wetting it down.

“What happened?” You heard him take a deep breath behind you. “Steve, sit down. Let’s take care of that cut.” It was surprising that he did as he was told, the second-hand oak chair creaking under the size of him. You moved slowly as you walked towards him, sensing that whatever had happened was a big deal; the normally-outspoken super soldier seemed at a loss for words.

When he was sitting, it gave you the once-in-a-lifetime chance to be looking down at him. He was still tall, only a few inches shorter in this position, but it was a different perspective nonetheless. The clean washcloth you had wet down felt cool in your hands. The sensation was the only thing keeping you grounded when you stopped in front of him, stepping between his knees to get a closer look at the wound. You bit your lip as you concentrated, softening the dabbing motions when Steve hissed at the contact.

“This should be healing, shouldn’t it?” Your voice was much quieter than you intended it to be. “Do we need to contact S.H.I.E.L.D?” He shook his head and closed his eyes; you had full opportunity to study his face. The beard had been a nice addition, you thought absently. His eyelashes were fanned out across his cheeks. Who had eyelashes that long? It was a bit ridiculous. His lips were pursed and quite involuntarily you wondered what it would be like to kiss them. A lock of hair had fallen into his face, and as you brushed it back, carding your fingers through the dark golden crown, his hands flew up to grasp your hips.

The motion startled you, but you were rooted to the spot. His hands were big, and the gentle motion of his thumbs made your breathing hitch. This was dangerous territory that definitely felt like it was coming out of nowhere. You weren’t equipped to deal with something like this. The heart behind your ribcage was thundering, thumping so hard you were sure it was going to give you away, betray you, and the emotions suddenly washing over you.

“I don’t need to contact them. Just a break-in that I wasn’t expecting. I chased him off. Normal life’s left me soft,” he finally gritted out in a quiet baritone. His hands were still splayed on your hips, and it took everything in you not to lean into the touch. “Guess I have to figure out some other way to say sorry.” You watched as his eyes fluttered open and a sheepish grin painted itself across his face. Was there an invitation there?

A shaky sigh escaped your mouth as you reluctantly extracted your hands from his hair and stepped back; you rolled your eyes, and just like that the old magic of the moment was broken. Still, something skipped in the air around you.

“You hardly have to worry about missing today when you were fighting an intruder, Steve. Don’t be ridiculous. Whaddya say to just whipping something up here and watching a movie? That’s my kind of apology anyway.” You dropped the cloth in the sink and turned around, crossing your arms and leaning back to look at him again. The physical distance had allowed the fog in your brain to clear just a little bit, until you saw the way he was watching you. Lazy, but focused at the same time. “What?” Your skin felt warm under his gaze.

“Nothing. You just look nice is all. Was that dress for me?” If anyone had looked at you right now, you were sure you would have looked like a deer in headlights. You weren’t sure whether to answer or not. His voice had gone all low, and now he was standing, making his way over to you with sure, slow steps. The floor creaked slightly under his weight. Oh, definitely not good. Steve reached forward once more, correcting the strap that had fallen down your shoulder. Goosebumps raced over your flesh. “I like the idea of staying here better too,” he rumbled. You pursed your lips and nodded, taking another huge breath.

“All right then. Um, I guess we should fix that cabinet door first?” Steve’s eyes searched yours for a moment before smiling and ducking his head.

“Yeah, I’ll grab the toolbox from the garage. I’ll take care of that if you can finish cleaning the mess off the counter?” Another nod.

“I’ll check the fridge too, I’m pretty sure we have all the ingredients for pizza.” You took a moment to watch his face; his eyes were distant. It took everything in you to tamp down the urge to reach out and touch him. “Steve, are you good?”

He stuck both thumbs in the air as he headed past you to the garage. Something in the set of his shoulders and the way he quickly avoided your gaze said otherwise, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. The idea that this had just been a normal break-in seemed unlikely. Even if Steve hadn’t been interacting with S.H.I.E.L.D outside of occasional check-ins, there was no way Steve would have been caught off guard by a normal human being. Still, it didn’t feel like the right time to question him about it.

The two of you made quick work of the mess. After a small disagreement on whether pineapple actually belongs on pizza, with a compromise of half with pineapple, half without, the two of you finally settled on the couch to watch the movie. It was some secret agent rom-com you’d seen a few times before, but that always fit the bill for a chill night at the house. Steve, on the other hand, had not seen it and felt obligated to point out all the flaws in the action scenes. It made you smirk and elbow him more than once. After a while, though, you began to feel the tell-tale signs of sleep, your eyes drooping and your breath slowing.

It didn’t take him very long to notice.“Wanna head to bed, sleepyhead?”

You turned to him, your gaze briefly unfocused, and poked his arm.“I wouldn’t be tired at only eight pm if I hadn’t been woken up two hours before my four am alarm,” you replied with a smirk. Despite yourself, however, a yawn escaped your mouth. “I’ll take care of the dishes, it will help me wake up enough to finish the movie. You need to take a shower or anything after fighting the big bad wolf?”

Steve crossed his arms and let out a snort. You nudged his arm again with your elbow. “All jokes aside, thanks for keeping our house safe.” He stilled next to you but finally nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re welcome. Uh, yeah, I’ll go take a shower. You sure you don’t want any help?” Again, had he always been this nice?

“You’re fine. Go on.” If you had been able to read his mind, you would have known that to hear you say “our house” lit a fire in his veins. You wandered into the kitchen, noting how every detail seemed in focus; the night sounds coming in the open window, the smells of the breeze, the way the tile felt cool under your bare feet. The air felt charged with… what? You noted the gradual switch in your brain. Just this morning, you had been able to rattle off in your head all the reasons you hated living with Steve. You had even contemplated looking for someone else to room with. And now… now, after a brief conversation and some wound care, you really couldn’t figure out why you had decided to hate him. Hate was a pretty strong word.

Two plates and some intense daydreaming later, you wandered back into the living room just as Steve came back down the hallway, adjusting his shirt over the lower half of his stomach.

You were glad the lighting was low, because you were sure he would have seen the flush creep into your cheeks at the glimpse of bare skin across his abdomen. Absolutely ridiculous. Finish the movie. Go to bed. It was very simple. Or better yet, fake a headache? Could Captain America tell when someone was lying? Would you be surprised if he could? No. You sneaked a sideways glance at him as you sat down again. He smelled fresh and like a hint of Old Spice. His hair was combed back but still wet; little water droplets clung to the ends. Without a second thought, you reached out and turned his face to look at you.

“How’s that cut,” you murmured, suddenly quiet. The wound that just hours before had looked like it would need stitches now looked like a thin pink line. Oh god, his face was so close. You could close the space easily. There, there was that look again. Steve was not one to shy away from looking someone in the eyes, and every time he had looked at you in the last twenty-four hours had left you feeling weak and heavy, but in the best sort of way. Your phone buzzed from its place on the coffee table in front of you, the name “VANESSA” emblazoned on the front. You released a breath you hadn’t released you were holding and snatched the phone up. Steve cleared his throat and sat back.

“Hey, Nessa, what’s up?” What was up was that the opener for tomorrow morning had called out, and you were the most reliable on short notice. You agreed to cover the shift and let out a groan of disappointment when she told you she was working the night shift, so you wouldn’t even get to see her. Steve guessed what had happened from the conversation he could hear on his end (actually, he could easily hear both ends of the conversation, but that point was moot) so he locked up while you were getting last minute details.

“It’s all good,” he laughed when you tried to apologize. “We can finish the movie some other time. I had fun tonight. Oh, and, uh, thanks for the medical care.” He had shoved his hands in his sweatpants pockets and was rocking back on his heels. He looked every bit like someone who was definitely planning out his next move. He looked nervous, and somehow you couldn’t wrap your brain around that.

“Was the least I could do. I’ll see ya tomorrow?” Steve ducked his head with a smile. A smile that could stop traffic. A smile that had been burned into the mind of every US citizen as the poster boy for America. But to you, it was a smile that was warm. Familiar. And somehow now a smile that was starting to whisper home.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Was there a promise there? You kept the shower water cold that night, trying to focus on something other than Steve Rogers.

#and were live #and they were roommates #inthorantine writes #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #guys im so hype #i cant believe i drilled out #close to 4k words #let me know what yall think

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pendragonfics · 4 years

Text

So Be It

Paring: Mycroft Holmes/Reader

Tags: gender ambiguous reader, no pronouns for reader, Mycroft Holmes has feelings, Mycroft is a softie, reunions, slice of life, domestic fluff, fluff without plot

Summary: Returning from work overseas, Reader has a guest in their house.

Word Count: 1,493

Current Date: 2020-07-17

By the time the sun has set, the kettle, boiled for a cup of tea, has long been forgotten. It’s a cold day, a long day; perhaps the coldest and longest day there ever was. Of course, there is no science to that claim, but everything was always -est when you were not in the company of your boyfriend. Boyfriend. He hated that word so much, and yet, that was his word now. Before, when you were friends, carefully side-stepping around his brother’s shenanigans, he had been vocal about so much. Stock prices. The importance of public umbrella stands. The dying art of handwritten letters. And menial terminology for those who chose to be in a dalliance with another person.

You can muse all you want about the years spent wasted, pining for the man, but it doesn’t help with the fact that you haven’t made any preparations for dinner, and there simply isn’t any room in your budget for take-away food tonight. Rising from the settee, you cast away the novel you weren’t reading - a present from your mother that doesn’t captivate your mind - you move from the sitting room to the kitchen.

How long ago was the sunset? The room was so cold, and shivering in your knitted pullover, you flick the gas stove on, place a pot atop it, and rummage through the pantry for a tin of soup. Soup, while not the most appealing, was always an option. Once tipped in, you stand there with the wooden spoon, idly pushing the contents as so not to burn at the base. Your mind wanders to other things; the lawn would need mowing soon, and you were almost out of milk. Mycroft preferred skim milk, but it was dearer to purchase two cartons.

The bubbling aroma of tinned potato and leek soup reaches your nose and satisfied with the consistency, you prepare to serve yourself. It’s not the same, living alone. You weren’t supposed to live alone. Hadn’t you agreed to live with him? You had. And yet, his work called him away so often, it was almost as if he was a ghost, an echo of his own image.

The clock above the oven says it’s almost six-thirty. Your phone screen is empty - well, empty of him. There are notifications for apps you barely use, and one from an idle phone game that you’ve been meaning to delete. The only text message you received today was from the phone company.

Taking your soup to the sitting room, you swipe the heater on with your foot and flick through the programs available on the telly. The evening news. A game show. A documentary about poor, hungry children, produced by rich, overfed adults. More news. Re-runs of a show that you never got into. Fed up, you mute the screen, and eat in silence.

The dishwasher is on, benches cleaned, and the rubbish taken to the street by seven. There isn’t enough to do around the house to keep your mind off of the silence, so your phone’s speaker fills the air with a tinny rendition of a favourite song. It can’t take your mind off of what you’re missing. While your boyfriend isn’t the most touchy of all, you miss his presence, his voice, his hands; especially all of those toward you. His flight was supposed to land four hours ago, and you’re sure it doesn’t take this long to come through the security at Heathrow.

Resigned, as the song finishes, you shut the app off, and take a cup of tea upstairs. Living in a cottage had its ups and downs - like how the vacuum cord couldn’t reach all the way down or up when you cleaned the stairs, and how nice it was to have a garden to yourself - but what attracted you to the life outside of the city was spending it with him.

It’s hard to not think of Mycroft. His shoes sit at the front door, and his clothes are on the other side of the wardrobe. His side of the bed is untouched, and his clock beside the bed is growing dusty, as is his copy of War and Peace. The tea sits untouched beside the bed as you change, and as you wriggle into bed with it, it warms your hands, but not the ache in your heart.

The mug is almost empty when you hear a scratching noise and the familiar tread of footsteps upon the carpeted foyer. You hold your breath as so to hear better; there’s a few other noises, and then, the sound de-shoed feet up the stairs. You sit up in time to see him enter; Mycroft Holmes looks tired. His hair is mussed, tie loosened and top button undone. His slacks are creased, and his suit jacket is folded over his arm. But the uncharacteristically untidy boyfriend of yours, looking so very tired, perks up at the sight of you.

“Oh, ___________, I thought you were asleep,” he hummed, tugging at his tie. “Did I wake you?”

“I was waiting up for you,” you place your tea beside the bed, and slowly, rise, moving toward your boyfriend. “Let me guess. Surprise briefing?”

He chuckles at that. “I’m not sure it’s considered a surprise if it happens every time, my dear,” he says, tie in hand.

You reach for his chest, and clumsily, your tired fingers work at the buttons, revealing his undershirt. Though he had spent the last month in overseas for work, a six-hour flight from Cairo to Heathrow, and too long before ending up at your fingertips, he didn’t seem as clammy as he usually did after long nights at the office. The clothes peeled away, and you sat at the end of the bed as Mycroft shuffled off to the bathroom adjacent. As you heard the shower twist on, the water spewing forth, through the steam and the open door he talked what he could of the goings-on he had encountered since the last time the pair of you were less than six feet apart.

“That sounds...illustrious.”

“You give me far too much credit, ___________.” He spoke over the spray, “I’m a glorified babysitter to ministers and diplomats that toe the line of morality.”

“Is that on your business card?” you retort, smirking. “‘Diplomatic babysitter’?”

Mycroft steps out of the shower, towel around his waist. His hair is flat against his head, as is the light scowl at the thought of your branding of him. But he doesn’t speak any more on the matter, instead, focusing on his grooming routine. You don’t move from the end of the bed; through the doorway, you watch as he shaves, towel-drys his hair, and noticing your gaze, hangs the bathmat to dry before rejoining you in the bedroom.

“Do you think anyone knows that the great Ice Man of the UK has his partner wrapped around his finger?” You ask, leaning back, watching as Mycroft nears you.

Anyone else would show their annoyance physically, outwardly, to you - but you know that sort of thing manifests differently in Mycroft. His face reddens, if not from the sting of his aftershave, and a small cough forces his words to stay inside his throat, unexpressed.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you add.

“Yes?” he prompts, stepping into his green and white pinstriped pyjama bottoms.

You scramble back into the bedsheets and kick your feet under the covers for warmth, watching your boyfriend all the while. “It rains more when you’re not around. Or the same amount, but it doesn’t feel as nice alone. Sometimes I read something in the news and I’ll go to show you, but you’re not around, and I feel like a fool.” You sigh, leaning back into the pillows, “...and I miss you when you’re away. You’re unlike everyone else I’ve ever met. You’re smart and handsome...”

“How is it, that after so long awake, I want to remain alert just to be with you?” Mycroft asks, joining you beneath the covers.

He flicks the lamp off on his side of the bed, and inches toward you. Mycroft smells of lemongrass and coffee grounds, leather and faintly, peppermint, and while it’s an odd mix, especially for the painfully ordinary person you are, it’s perfect.

“Please tell me you’re here for a while,” you plead, fingers at the ready to switch off your lamp. “I can’t go to sleep if you’ll be gone in the morning.”

“Darling,” he moans, pressing into your side. “I would never leave without saying goodbye.” Looking you in the eye, he says, his words just for you, “I’m here for the rest of the winter - until you can’t stand me anymore.”

The room is plunged into darkness, and you slip beside him, and pepper his freshly-shaven cheeks in kisses. “But Mycroft,” you tell him, “You’d never leave again if that’s the case.”

He hums. “Then so be it.”

#Mycroft Holmes #mycroft x reader #mycroft/reader #mycroft #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfic #sherlock x reader #pendragonfics #chaotic--lovely #gender neutral reader

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