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familyvideostevie · 2 years ago

Note

Hi would you be willing to do a part two to the steve x Henderson!reader age gap fic?

i am so floored by how many of you asked for a part II for this! to the anon who gave me the nudge w this idea, i owe u my life. thank you for your patience, i hope this satisfies! also, let's pretend the plan went off without a hitch and everyone survived <3 | 2k, henderson!reader, angst to fluff, lots of cursing, i mean like, a ton

The Upside Down is just as horrifying this time as it was last night. Your arm throbs and your hands shake from the adrenaline as you climb the bedsheet rope and flop on the mattress, Steve's hand appearing above you immediately to haul you up. You haven't talked to him very much apart from gathering supplies and a tense ride in the front of the Winnebago next to him. Every time you look at him he's already looking at you, his gaze so heavy that you feel like you're going to explode. But there's no time for that -- you have a mission to finish.

Eddie's trailer feels familiar but only barely, the vines and cloudy air coating everything with death and decay. Dustin is the last to come through the gaping hole in the ceiling and you haul him up, keeping a hand on him out of habit. You insisted on being with him and Eddie, Steve's cruel but truthful words about looking after him ringing in your ears.

"Alright, be careful, okay?" Steve's jaw is tense as he cautions the three of you. "Don't even fucking think about being heroes. Anything goes south, you're back through that gate, understand?" Quick as a flash he grabs one of your hands. "Keep each other safe." His eye bore into yours and you think you nod, a shocked jerk of your chin. And then the moment is over and he, Nancy, and Robin are heading out of the park.

"What the fuck was that?" says Dustin.

Your skin is tingling. "Language, buddy!"

"That's true love, Henderson," says Eddie. You glare at him but he's beaming at you.

You wave your arms at the deserted hell dimension around you. "Really? Right now?"

"We are going to talk about this. You and Steve? Steve?" Dustin thuds his head against his spear.

"Dustin." You want to smack him upside the head but you refrain. "He told me you said I liked him!"

"I was joking! Figures he took it seriously like a dumbass. But I never took my own flesh and blood for one! I mean, Eddie is right there!" You take a step towards Dustin like you're going to tackle him but he just makes a face back.

"S'okay, sweetheart." Eddie clutches his heart. "You and Harrington have history. I'm entertained and not at all offended."

"Can we focus, please? We need to bat-proof this trailer."

"But, are you and Steve--"

"Now, Dustin!" You snap your fingers and corral the boys back to covering the windows and any empty space you can find. Your brother grumbles but listens to you, quickly falling into the work of nail gunning metal and wood to the trailer. You plug every opening you can find, latching chain link to the porch to make a cage. And then it's time.

"Initiate phase three, initiate phase three!" Robin's voice crackles through the walkie talkie.

"Shit," Eddie mutters. "Here we go!" He heads to his bedroom to grab his guitar and you and Dustin climb to the roof of the trailer.

You grab your brother by the shoulders as he plugs in the amps. "Listen, Dustin, I --"

"Are you about to give me some dumb speech about getting out of here if shit goes bad? Because save it."

"No, listen to me --"

"No, listen to me. We're doing this together because that's how we win. We're going to save everyone, but we need everyone." You pull him to you and squeeze him, quick and fast so he doesn't have time to squirm away. It's going to be fine. You're going to win.

"Hendersons, are we ready?" Eddie takes his place on the trailer and plays and plays and plays. You watch through the binoculars for the bats, calling out timings, and before you know it you're dropping back down to the ground and locking the cage behind you and screaming at how insane that was.

"I hope that's enough," you pant. "It has to be enough." You can't think about it too hard -- how Max is going to walk back into hell, how Nancy and Robin and Steve are going to fight Vecna in the flesh. All you can do is wait.

But pretty soon the bats are slamming against the trailer and the three of you form a tight circle and hope you got every opening. They make awful, awful sounds and the stitches Nancy carefully did in your arm burn and you're so scared.

"We need to buy more time," Eddie whispers. "You two climb, I'll be right behind you." But he doesn't look at you as he says it, breaking out of your circle with eyes on the door. You surge after him and throw your shield to the floor to grab a fistful of his jacket and tug him back.

"Don't you fucking dare, Eddie Munson. Get the fuck back here!" He looks shocked at the force in your tone. "Don't you remember what Steve said? We're not doing that shit. We're not dying today. They'll be fine."

"What she said," Dustin echoes. "Don't you fucking da--"

"Language!" you shout.

"Seriously? You just said it like, a million times!" Eddie bursts into surprised laughter.

"Christ, okay, I won't do anything." You release him and Dustin presses a little closer into his side.

So you wait. And wait, and wait, and wait.

And then a heavy thud on the top of the trailer makes all three of you scream. But it's followed by another, and another, and then hundreds more, like the worst hail storm you've ever heard. It stops just as quick as it started.

"The bats," you gasp. "It has to be them."

"Does that mean that Vecna is...?" Dustin whispers. The silence is eerie and fragile.

"Let's fuckin' hope so," Eddie mumbles.

And then the ground rumbles. It starts low and deep, almost like it's your own stomach. And then the trailer starts to vibrate, then shake like it did at Skull Rock.

"They have to be coming back," you say. "I'm going to get the door. Stay in here, okay?"

"Henderson..." Eddie starts.

"No, it's fine. The bats are dead." You know it's hypocritical to charge outside when you stopped him from doing the same thing, but you're already unlocking the door and stepping into the makeshift cage. Demobat bodies litter the ground as you step out into the dusty air. The sky is fading from angry red to black and you can feel the earth move under you.

"Hey!" You look up and see Robin sprinting towards you out of the tree line, dragging Nancy by the hand. "Thank god you're not dead. We have to go, now." They look mostly fine -- Nancy has a fresh cut along her cheek and Robin's hat is missing and they're both covered in...ash? But where is he?

"Steve, come on!" Nancy hollers behind them as they reach you. "Are Dustin and Eddie inside?"

"Yeah," you say, eyes now on the figure that emerges behind them. He's dirtier than before, throwing glances over his shoulder like he expects Vecna to be on his heels. But seeing him makes your chest both loosen and tighten at once -- relief that he's alive mingled with the intense rush of how scared you were that he wasn't going to come back.

"I--" you start to say but no words come out.

"Let's hustle, guys!" Steve hollers. "Inside, go, go, go!" Robin and Nancy go in you but you stand and wait for him because you just want to touch him, to make sure this is real, that you might have won, but he doesn't even slow in his run when he gets to you. He just grabs your hand and hauls you into the trailer behind him. Eddie is already through the gate, Dustin halfway up the rope and Robin kneeling for Nancy to start up after him.

"We got him," Steve says to you. "But the whole damn place is coming down. We nearly didn't get out of the house." His hand is warm where it still clutches yours. "Nice work with the bats, by the way." He's grinning at you and you feel a little lightheaded. Is it this easy now? The bad guy is dead and all of a sudden Steve's all in for you?

The trailer shakes again as Nancy disappears through the gate and Steve pulls you into him for a few seconds while Robin clings to the bedsheets. But this time it doesn't stop and a great wet ripping sound echoes through the Upside Down.

"Shit," Robin says, hauling herself through the gate as fast as she can.

"Now you," Steve says, and you want to protest but he's shoving you forward and pressing his hands to your ass as you start to climb. Normally you'd say something but Steve is not going to get left behind, so you hustle, rolling off of the mattress as soon as you land so he's got a clear space. And then he's through, yanking the bedsheets with him, and you watch the ceiling as the dark trailer starts to shake and crumble, the jagged hole shrinking, knitting itself together and disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"Holy shit," Dustin says. "Holy shit." You don't scold him because you feel the same. He wraps his arms around you and jumps up and down and you laugh.

"It's over," Robin breathes. "It's over."

"You got him?" Eddie asks. Steve hauls himself up from the mattress and claps the metalhead on the shoulder.

"Set him on fire and Nance shot him in the face. We got him." Eddie whoops and pull Steve in for a hug, and just like that you're all cheering, all trading high fives and embraces and feeling so relieved you can hardly believe it.

"We have to get the others," Dustin says, rummaging for his radio as Eddie hovers over him. Robin drags Nancy to the bathroom to clean her cut, and Steve stands next to you. You act on instinct and sag into him, gentle in case his wounds are hurting, but hugging him nonetheless. His arms come around you and your breaths match.

"Okay," you say into his neck.

He doesn't move but he makes a confused sound. You can feel his heartbeat.

"We can talk about it now." Steve pulls away from you this time, his hands coming to frame your face.

"Oh, that," he says. You frown, wondering if he's changed his mind, if he's going to reject you again, if you're going to go back to being something jagged and frigid. "I'm so dumb."

"Steve--"

"Best thing I ever saw, you standing in front of the trailer surrounded by dead demobats." His eyes bore into yours like he's trying to get you to understand something. "I was so fucking scared."

"I was too," you breathe. You fist your hands in his collar, thumbs grazing the edge of the angry red line around his neck. He's older than you, sure, and he's been through this before, but all you want to do is tuck him somewhere safe where he can rest.

"And you scare me," he continues. "Because I like you so much. And I'm sorry I yelled at you before and I know it's complicated and that I'm kind of a deadbeat--"

"Steve." You press your fingertips to his mouth. You can hear Max through the radio behind you and your arm is throbbing and you feel the exhaustion setting into every bone, but you're also on top of the world. Because Steve is here in your arms. "Can you kiss me now?"

His lips are on you before you've even finished talking and it's not a very good kiss -- you both smell and your teeth clack a little with the force of it but it warms you from head to toe. Eddie's clapping in the background, Robin laughs and you feel alive because you are and maybe the rejection was worth it because here you are kissing the boy of your dreams.

"I'm pretending not to see this!" Dustin yells. "I'm really disappointed, just to be clear!"

But Steve just kisses you and kisses you and kisses you.

tags (including all of u who asked for this specifically!!): @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @louderfortheback @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @just-a-lost-princess @golden-wander @cagethemunson

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reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

#anon ask #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you

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reawritesthings · 4 years ago

Text

domestic pleasures | wanda maximoff

summary: you were new to westview and you automatically caught wanda’s eye. overtime, you allowed wanda to take good care of you.

pairings: mommy!wanda x fem!reader

word count: 2.2K

warnings: 18+ MINORS DONT INTERACT. degrading, mommy kink, vaginal fingering, eating out someone. slightly overstimulation. slightly forced orgasm. wanda uses her power. dom!wanda. teasing. reader is in love with wanda's boobs. (if i have missed anything, please tell me) :)

authors note: IM BACK with another. the comments and the feedback for lemon tree was shocking. thank u everyone for reading it!! i wasn’t expecting that reaction. anyways, enjoy this :) feedback is appreciated

You never considered yourself lucky, especially in a new town that looked beautiful when the sunset toned the streets. You were a broke college student, desperately trying to make ends meet with groceries, bills and books. It was stressful to find some work in a town full of people who minded their business, except a family of four.

You hardly saw them until Wanda came knocking on your door, offering you meals that she made for her family. Wanda knew from the many nights she saw you from your window that you never ate a full course meal.

Her flower wasn’t nurturing the right way, and she hated it. Wanda didn’t like seeing her flower work too hard. But she did love the choice of outfits you wore.

An oversized shirt that always curves over your bum, giving Wanda a perfect view of your laced panties. She loved watching you, admiring you from afar. You were oblivious to her gestures, just like she wanted you to be.

When she saw you one night taking small bites of her lasagna, she swore that she heard a moan escape from your lips. It captivated her to continue to bring you food so she can listen to those pretty little moans of yours.

Over time, her motherly instincts switch on. She monitored your eating pattern, especially when you were in the middle of your finals. She watched you take scoops of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth and chugging energy drinks into your system.

You were hurting her flower, and she didn’t like it one bit. Wanda then decided she would take matters into her hand. When Wanda asked you out of the blue to come over to fix her printer, a ready-made meal was waiting for you.

It was a small fish dish with tons of vegetables. You weren't a fan of vegetables; half of them weren't your favourite either. You tried to pass the offer but, Wanda was very persuaded. She insisted you stay and eat with her, as a token of thanks for fixing her printer.

You didn’t want to be rude so, you sat with her, watching her cut up her potion. Wanda noticed that you hardly touched your greens, which made her angry. She didn’t show it, as she didn’t want to scare off her flower.

Wanda simply got up from her seat and accidentally brushed your shoulder, apologising straight after. She bent her body towards you, allowing you full access to her chest. You gulped in pleasure at how beautifully shaped her tits were.

“If you eat your greens, you can touch,” Wanda whispered, biting your earlobe. She watched as you gripped your thigh, smirking at how easy it was to persuade you to do something.

You sat there and, Wanda made sure you ate every vegetable on your plate. Each time you ate a vegetable, she kissed your neck, praising you for obeying.

“You can do it. We don’t want to see what happens when you don’t listen, sweetheart.” She mumbled against your skin, making you squirm in your seat.

Wanda slowly started to suck on your neck, feeding into you like you were her dinner. She heard a little whimper come from your lips and licked the mark she created.

“One more, sweetheart.” She praised, brushing her thumb against your cheek. She tangled her hands through your hair, pulling it slightly as she saw you fiddle with the last vegetable.

You quickly ate the last vegetable, looking up at Wanda for praise. She sent a sweet kiss to your lips, humming words that made you feel warm inside.

You instantly felt your body respond to her touches. She was seated next to you, and you felt lost. You didn’t know what came over yourself when Wanda pulled you onto her lap. You instantly snuggled into her, letting your face buried between her chest, as she brushed her fingers up and down your back.

You lightly kissed her breasts, smiling at how big and comfy they were. Wanda smirked and bounced them up, causing you to moan.

“Since you ate all your greens and study real hard today, you get to have some dessert. How does that sound?” Wanda whispered into your ear, seeing you nod almost immediately.

“You are so responsive to my orders, aren’t you?”

You nodded, feeling a blush appear.

“Such a good little flower.” She cooed, pulling you off her and pushing you down onto the floor. She opened her legs and watched your eyes widen at her movement. You saw that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Be a good little girl and take your dessert. I’m going to make sure you taste every last drop, understood?”

“Yes, Wanda..”

Wanda tutted, “Mommy. You call me Mommy.”

“Yes, Mommy.” You whispered and slowly brought your face to her entrance. You placed your hands around her thigh, and in a straight line, you licked her core. Wanda had no time for you to tease her. She was horny enough from just seeing you obey her. She grabbed a handful of hair and forced your mouth to suck on her cunt. You moaned at the force, trying to suck on every inch of her folds.

Wanda knew you were new to this, as your technique were wonky. She arched her hips towards you, thrusting her cunt into your face making you have no access to breathe. You allowed your tongue to explore her, trying to graze every spot to please her.

Wanda moans found your ears and, you moaned against her core, sucking on it harshly like it was the last edible thing on earth. Again Wanda thrust into you, making you accidentally bite her core. Wanda moaned louder, and you continued to latch onto her bud. You knew she was getting close as her folds clenched around your tongue. She managed to pull on your hair once more and gave you no warning that she was close to an orgasm.

Wanda, in no time, thrust once more before flooding your mouth with her cum. You tried your hardest to suck on every sweetness she gave you. Your lips were attached to her core for a little longer before she moved you away, brushing her finger against your swollen lip.

“You gorgeous thing. Those plumped lips are so useful to me. You were so good, sweetheart. You made Mommy feel so good.” She whispered, pulling you up by your shirt.

“You did so well, darling.” She hummed, allowing you to rest your head in her chest. Wanda watched as you gave her light kisses to her chest, grinning at how easily it was for you to be a submissive.

Wanda slowly moved your face away for her, causing a little whimper to escape your lips. Wanda only grinned at her flower, loving how needy you were for her.

“Go get some rest, darling. Those essays won’t write themselves.”

You nodded and slowly got off her lap, “Yes, Mommy.”

Wanda bit her lip at your tone and watched you stumble your way out of her home. She took the glass of water from the table, taking small sips as she amusingly watched you tumble and walk into things.

“Goodbye, little one.”

—

That night you were sorely in the zone to complete one of your essays. A temptation inside you sprung to light after you left Wanda’s that afternoon. You could still taste her in your mouth, and you craved more.

You felt lost without her near. You never depend on someone like you did with Wanda. She was turning you into something that you read in novels, and you liked it.

A little too much.

It was quarter to midnight and, you just finished a second essay. You were tired from studying and decided to take a little nap before returning to your books. However, that nap didn't exactly happen when you found yourself cradled against Wanda's chest.

You awoke and found your face buried deep in Wanda’s boobs. Unaware of how that happened, Wanda pushed your face back into her chest. She knew that you needed her touch, and just like the submissive you were, you took full advantage of it.

“You overworked yourself, sweetheart.”

You hummed, looking straight up at her. You eagerly tried to kiss her lips but, Wanda pulled back and smacked your thigh. You jumped in confusion, putting your head down as you didn’t like it when Wanda was mean.

"You naughty girl. Are you that desperate for Mommy’s lips? You want Mommy to taste whatever you are feeling in your panties.”

You let out a loud moan as Wanda harshly pressed her finger against your soaking core.

“My sweetheart. You are soaking. Did Mommy make you wet, darling?”

You sheepishly nodded and tugged on her bra as Wanda slapped your throbbing core.

“M-Mommy,” You moaned against her breasts, finding a way for you to tug on her nipple. Wanda hummed and saw how close you were getting to her nipple and slapped your core again, but with more force.

“Not yet. You must let Mommy taste you first. Is that what you want?”

You nodded quickly.

“Desperate little thing. You are such a slut, darling. Look at you, trying to hump Mommy’s fingers. How badly do you want Mommy’s fingers?”

“So badly. Please. Please.” The sounds of your begging made Wanda pinch your core. You let out a moan and squirm at the pain.

Wanda slowly pulled your panties down, watching some of your juice trails down your thigh. Wanda’s fingers managed to clean the excess. Without any warning, she stuffed her fingers straight into your mouth.

“Suck.” She demanded and, you obeyed, moaning at the taste of your sweetness.

“You ready for Mommy’s fingers? How many does my flower get?”

“As much as Mommy likes.” You moaned, and Wanda let out a chuckle at how much of a good submissive you were.

Wanda took one last look at you before taking her fingers out of your mouth and slammed them straight into your hole, hearing you cry in pain.

“Taking them so well, darling. Do you know how many fingers are inside you?” Wanda asked, her eyes darken.

You shook your head, pleading with her to go faster.

“Let’s count, Sweetheart.” Wanda whispered, and used one finger to hit one of your spots.

“How many was that, gorgeous?”

“O-One..”

Wanda grinned and did the same again but with three fingers this time causing you to moan louder.

“F-Four?” You manage to say and Wanda shook her head.

“Would you like Four fingers inside you?” Wanda whispered into your ear, fucking your core hard.

You barely gave her a response. Wanda took that as a yes and added another finger inside you. You felt your hole stretch like never before as Wanda slammed her fingers inside you. The tears spilling in your eyes made you grip Wanda's hand.

Wanda smirked and removed your hand from hers. She laughed as she gripped your jaw, so she could see you fall apart.

"My sweet angel. You look so beautiful." Wanda whispered and gripped your jaw harder. You let your tears fall from your cheek as she thrust her fingers in and out of you. You felt your orgasm near as your folds tugged on her fingers.

Your eyes began to see stars as Wanda used some of her magic to add more harsh momentum. You had no idea of Wanda's being a witch and, Wanda loved your obliviousness.

You started to ride her fingers, feeling your high coming through. Wanda kissed your tears away, planting a small kiss on your nose before slapping your thigh to indicate that you could cum.

"Go on, darling."

You cried out in pleasure as you let yourself loose on her fingers, sobbing as Wanda helped you ride your high. Your walls still clenched around her fingers, as you didn't want her to pull out.

Wanda smirked, loving how you took her so well.

“You are so well behaved, Sweetheart... taking my four fingers very well. You are a good little slut, aren't you? So glad I found you."

You opened your mouth, and Wanda laughed at your loss for words.

"How about we run you a bath? Does my little flower need a bath?”

You nodded and hissed at the pain as Wanda took her fingers out of you. She kissed your lips and then your neck, praising you whilst she gently made her way down to your swollen core. She gently kissed your swollen bud and gave you a sweet lick before picking you up.

Out of embarrassment of crying, you buried your face in her neck and watched her carry you towards the bathroom. You still let some tears fall as you felt the pain. She gently placed you on the counter, brushing your hair out of your face as she pinches your thigh teasingly.

“My sweet darling. Look at you. You were so good with Mommy today. You are the most gorgeous thing when you are crying. Those little sobs were for me, and Mommy loved watching you fall apart.”

You felt your cheeks burn with shame as Wanda degraded you. You wiped your tears on your jumper as you heard the tap run. Wanda cooed you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She chuckled and helped you into the tub. You hissed at the pain when the warm water hit your core. Wanda slowly pushed you down, leaning over to wash you.

“No more crying, sweetheart,” Wanda whispered and gently began to bath you. You nodded and stayed put and allowed Wanda to care for you.

“Thanks, Mommy.”

Wanda smiled and placed a small kiss to your cheek. “Anytime, darling.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #dark!wanda smut #scarlet witch smut #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin' In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N--Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 1

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Aye, looks who's back at it again with a fic like this! IT'S ME! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The creature was coming at him a lot faster than he’d thought it was, and he barely had enough time to form a wall before it slammed into him. Even then, the force of it hitting the green construct sent him back a hundred feet and into the side of an abandoned skyscraper.

Pain wasn’t really felt when in the suit, but man, it still threw him for a loop and he groaned as he picked himself up off the ground, shoving glass and concrete away from his body. He could hear the rest of the Justice League fighting outside and as he started back towards the hole his body had made, the creature came in.

And this time, he didn’t have any to react, and the glowing magenta beast was coming right at him—fast. He lifted his arms and started to will a construction when a low sound came from his hand and with wide eyes, he watched the glowing neon green ring faded dull.

“Shi—”

His suit faded instantaneously and the next thing he knew, he was being shoved into the wall. It cracked under the pressure and his skull felt as though it’d been split when it connected with the concrete. The creature’s giant clawed hands wrapped around his throat, starting to choke the life out of him and he scratched at the magenta skin, to no avail.

“He—lp!” he gasped. “Som—on—e hel—p!”

Black started to edge from the corners of his vision and a haze began to settle over his brain as his lungs stopped receiving air.

I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die like this. Someone, anyone, help!

Something cold splattered across his face, and suddenly the steel grip around his throat went slack. The weight of the creature fell away from him and he dropped to his knees and collapsed onto his back, gasping in lungfuls of air to his deprived organs.

When his head stopped spinning, and he found the strength to move, he rolled onto his side and immediately, he recoiled with a shout of fear. The creature’s big ugly head had been decapitated and was leaking a fluorescent blue blood—that’s probably what splattered on his face and he reached up, wiping a hand across his skin. He pulled his hand away and there was the neon ichor painting his palm.

“You’re weak, Rayner,” a voice commented disapprovingly.

He craned his neck up to see a woman who looked about his age wiping the neon blood from a silver sword before she sheathed it on her back, her white slit eyes finding his.

“You almost died because your ring ran out of power.”

Kyle huffed and unsteadily stretched his legs. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the woman that saved your life.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Thank you,” he said, casting one last look at the creature before looking back at her. “So, who are you again? You obviously know me?” he took a moment to examine her suit. It was black, with silver stripes and in the middle of her chest was a silver symbol, that of a Greek helmet. But what got Kyle was the bat wings that outstretched from the sides of the helm.

“Are you apart of Batman’s troupe?”

She grunted and tapped at the glowing screen on her wrist. “Yeah. Name’s Silver Sentinel.”

“Oh, I know who you are!” he grinned. “You’re Dick and Jason’s sister!”

“Yes, please, tell the world who my younger brothers are.”

Kyle’s face heated and he glanced down at his hands. “Sorry.”

She tapped a button and waited, then a voice came over the comm link.

Talk.

Her eyes found Kyle’s and she replied, “Rescued your Green Lantern about two klicks from your position.” A sneer came over her lip. “Fool let his ring run out of power.”

He stared at his hands as embarrassment crawled across his skin, flushing from his neck up to his cheeks.

Hmm. Can you get him back to New York?

“I could be persuaded.”

Sentinel.

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, whatever. I’ll take him back to NY.” Walking over to the hole in the wall, she saw a beam of light. “Need a hand down there?”

Negative. We’ve got it under control.

“Ten-four. Silver Sentinel out.” The line went dead, and she looked down at Kyle. “Well, are you going to keep sitting there on your ass or are you gonna get up?”

He scrambled to his feet, an apology rolling off his tongue. “Sorry.”

She merely grunted in return and started off towards the exit, him following rather quickly. As they got to the entrance to the floor, she walked over to the elevator and pried it open, and Kyle had to fight to not be impressed by her sheer strength. She placed some type of device between the open doors and clicked a button, and it spread, keeping them apart.

Next, she pulled out what looked like one of the grapple guns Kyle had seen her family carrying around, and pointed it at the ceiling of the elevator, pulling the trigger. It hit the top with a clink, and she gave it an experimental tug before looking over at him.

“Come here,” she commanded, and Kyle blinked as something tight shot through his gut at the tone she carried—one of force and complete authority. Something told him that she was the type of woman who did what she wanted and expected people to fall in line behind her or else. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve been aroused or terrified, but it was probably a mix of both as he walked over.

She curled an arm around his waist and tugged his body up against hers. “Put one of your arms around my shoulder, the other around my body.”

“I—uh—I don’t feel comfor—” Kyle stuttered as his cheeks turned scarlet and she glared at him.

“We’re not going to dry hump in the elevator like horny teenagers, Rayner.” She pulled them nose to nose and he tried not to wince as the black nose of the cowl pushed into his skin. “If you’d rather us grapple down the side of the building where everyone can see, then let’s go.”

He swallowed thickly and did as she’d said a moment earlier, putting one of his arms around her shoulder, the other wrapping snug around her back. “N-no. We can do this,” he agreed, and she grunted.

“Listen carefully, this is going to be scary because you’re not used to it, but the second our feet come off this floor, don’t panic. I’ve got you and I’m not going to drop you.”

Though her voice was harsh, he could feel the security. “And the claw holding us up?”

“Has a gripping force of two tons.” She looked at him and inched towards the opening. “We’ll be fine.”

Kyle stepped over and looked down into the cold and dark shaft, immediately feeling his heart-rate pick up and she sighed when she heard the sharp intake of breath.

“You’re such a baby,” she scowled and pulled them into the shaft. His arms tighten instantaneously and even his legs tightened around hers. “Gonna try and climb me, Rayner?” she teased.

“Shut up,” he hissed and buried his face in her shoulder pad. “Just hurry and get us down.”

She snorted and clicked a button, allowing them to descend at a faster pace than he would’ve liked. “I thought Green Lanterns were supposed to be fearless?”

“Usually when I’m somewhere I could fall to my death, I’m powered up.” He retorted, still burrowed in her shoulder. “This is a little different.”

“Relax, Rayner. I’ve got you.”

Kyle pulled his face away from her armor and stared at her, though all he could make out was the white slits. “How are you this strong? I know I weigh at least one-eighty.”

She grunted. “Yeah, I can tell.”

He blinked. “Are you calling me fat? That sounds like you’re calling me fat.”

“Your muscle mass could be better.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he griped and when she chuckled, it sent shivers down his spine.

“To answer your earlier question—”

“The one where you called me fat?” he interrupted, and she scowled at him.

“The one about how strong I am. I work out daily, Rayner, and I can lift a lot more than my weight.”

“How heavy—” he chuckled nervously when she glared at him. “I’m not gonna finish that question.”

“Good idea, Rayner. Might save you from being dropped.”

“Hardy-har-har. You’re hilarious,” he retorted, and suddenly his feet his something hard. He looked down and saw the elevator, and she shoved him back from her, clicking the button on the grapple gun.

It recoiled in a matter of seconds and she tapped a button on the side of her cowl as she stowed the gun, then she moved to the corner of the elevator and brought her foot down as hard as she could. Kyle winced when the hatch gave way and he wondered how powerful she was to kick through a metal latch in one hit.

She looked at him. “Come on. I’ll call the Batplane when we get outside.”

“I thought only Batman was allowed to do that?” he asked, and she scoffed.

“Let’s just say I’m the one who’s allowed to do whatever she wants, and things don’t get fucked up.” She disappeared down the hatch and a moment later, he heard the elevator doors being pried open. “Are you coming, Rayner? I’d be more than happy to leave you here without a ride home.”

Kyle hurried and squeezed down the hatch, grunting when his tennis shoes hit the floor. The elevator rocked and creaked and she made a noise that sounded a lot like the one Batman made when he was annoyed.

“Hurry up and get through the doors.”

He ducked under her arms and out onto the floor and she followed, letting the thick metal doors slam behind her. She strode ahead and tapped at her screen.

“Alfred, are you there?”

A moment later, an older voice came over the line.

Yes Miss Wayne. How can I assist you this evening?

“I need the Batplane at my position. Could you send it?”

At once.

“Thanks Alfie.”

Of course, Miss Wayne.

As they waited in the lobby of the skyscraper, she murmured, “If you’re not going to ask whatever you’re thinking about asking me. Stop thinking. It’s annoying.”

Kyle blinked. “How’d you—”

“Oh please.” she rolled her eyes. “You’ve opened and shut your mouth eight times in the last two minutes.” She gazed at him. “Just ask.”

“You’re really Bruce Wayne’s daughter? (Y/N) Wayne?”

“I am.” (Y/N) replied. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I dunno…it’s just kinda hard to believe that a famous model doubles as a vigilante at night.”

“Why’s that so shocking? My dad’s a multi-billionaire playboy by day and Batman by night. Are you telling me a woman can’t do it too?”

Kyle’s green eyes widened, and he shook his head. “What? No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant that with back-to-back photo shoots, it must be hard to make time to do all this.”

(Y/N) hummed, turning her gaze to the street, a blur of red went by and she knew it was Barry Allen. “I run on my own schedule, Rayner, not anyone else’s.”

“Wow, you really are the woman in charge, aren’t you?” he remarked.

And she turned her eyes onto him again, this time narrowed in amusement as she teased, “Trying to see if you can find out what it’s like to be in charge for the night?”

Kyle’s mouth opened and snapped shut. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, swallowing nervously.

She crossed over to him in one step, getting up in his personal space again as she cooed, “Oh, you don’t?” he nodded and she reached up, trailing her silver armored fingers up the front of his white shirt and he was incapable of fighting how his muscles twitched at the pressure.

“I think you do,” she flirted. “Come on, Rayner. Don’t you wanna see what it’s like when you’re the man in charge? How much fun it can be to take all that control?” (Y/N) leaned close, her face barely an inch from his. “To be the one who holds all that power over a woman?”

He couldn’t breathe. His head was swimming with R-rated thoughts that if she really were a mind reader, she’d probably break his jaw, but all he knew was that his mind was so far into the gutter it wasn’t funny, and he swore she could hear his heart pounding.

She pulled away. “You should break out on your own instead of working for a design company. Then you’d have better control over your own schedule.”

Kyle blinked, stunned silent, then he said, “Wait, what?”

(Y/N) cocked her head to the side. “What?”

“What was,” he gestured wildly. “All that just now?”

Placing a hand on her hip, she asked, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Rayner. All I said was that you should get on your own.”

A deafening sound shook the floor and Kyle stared at the black plane settling down in the middle of the street. (Y/N) walked out the doors and to it as if it just hadn’t pulled a “J-turn” at twelve G’s.

“Let’s go, Rayner. I’ve got better things to do than babysit you,” she called, and he ran after her. She helped him climb into it, then scowled. “Move over. You’re in my spot.”

He shimmied in the tight space to the other seat and strapped in, watching curiously as she tapped at the buttons and flipped switches before grabbing hold of the steering device.

Kyle snorted. “It’s even shaped like a bat.”

(Y/N) huffed. “Yeah, that’s how we do things in our family.” She tapped at the screen. “Batman, this is Silver Sentinel. Come in.”

Read you loud and clear, Sentinel.

“Green Lantern and I are in route to New York.” She paused and directed her gaze to the screen, watching red dots surround a group of blue ones. “You’ve got enemies incoming. Do you want backup?”

Negative. You and Green Lantern get back to New York. We can handle this.

For once that night, Kyle watched as concern crossed (Y/N)’s face and she replied, “Dad, I think—”

I gave you an order, Sentinel.

(Y/N) glared and looked at Kyle and he about shrunk in his seat form the withering stare; she tossed him a helmet and ordered, “Put that on and don’t puke in it.”

“Don’t what?” he inquired as he put it on and the only answer he got was the sudden kick of the engines and he was pulled back in his seat. “Holy shit,” he whispered breathlessly as the Batwing took a U-turn in the air and headed off towards the fight.

Sentinel, we’re fine.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe that,” (Y/N) retorted and in a matter of moments they were flying over the rest of the Justice League. She tapped at the screen. “You’ve got incoming hostiles from the north, east, and west.” (Y/N) flipped a few switches above her then pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Heatseekers and nanite missiles deployed.”

Kyle watched her go between the screen and the switches. “Hostiles in the east and west quadrants have been eliminated.”

What can you tell me about the north?

“You’ve got multiple hostiles coming in. Got a big guy too. Got any tips?”

They’re vulnerable to sound waves. Take him out and we’ll do the rest.

“Ten-four. Happy hunting.”

(Y/N) turned the steering wheel and directed the Batplane towards the north part of the fight, grinning when the giant creature came into view, while Kyle looked like he was going to crap himself.

“Merry Christmas, ugly. Kiss my ass,” she quipped and pressed a button, and a black tube the size of a fire hydrant shot to the ground, and with a thunk, sunk in.

“What’s that supposed to do?” Kyle asked and she grinned.

“Watch and learn.”

The device popped up, blue and armed and she hit the screen. Immediately the windows of every building and car in the mile radius shattered and to his amazement, Kyle watched the creatures screech and grab at their heads before they exploded into piles of neon blue goo.

His jaw dropped. “Holy shit. That was cool.”

(Y/N) smirked and checked the map once more. No more hostiles inbound and she hit the comm link again. “Justice League you are all clear. I repeat, Justice League you are all clear.”

Good work, Sentinel. Now do as I told you and take Green Lantern back to New York.

“Is nothing I do good enough for you, father?” she griped, though Kyle could see the humor in her eyes.

Get off the comm link.

“Make me.”

Sentinel. Get. Off.

“Fine, fine. I love you too.” (Y/N) pushed at the screen once more then reclined in her seat, shutting her eyes.

“Don’t you have to fly this thing?” Kyle asked as the engines picked up again.

“Nah. It’s got autopilot.”

“I gotta get me one of these,” he whispered, and she reached over him, pulling out something from a drawer. (Y/N) opened a snack bag and popped a cookie into her mouth.

“You could probably construct one with your ring,” she offered, then held out the bag.

He took one with a ‘thank you’, then said, “Yeah but there’s nothing like owning the real thing.”

“HA! Give my dad a couple million dollars and he might be willing to part with one.”

“And on that note, I’ll stick to constructs,” he chuckled, and the rest of their flight was filled with easy banter, where (Y/N) found herself teasing Kyle a lot more than he was comfortable with—only because he found himself lacking a comeback for every remark she gave him.

***

“You really gotta get a new apartment. This place is way too small for a grown man,” she commented, and he snorted, picking up a pair of shoes that were laying haphazardly on the floor.

“I’m not exactly on the billionaire’s credit card, (Y/N). I live on minimum wage and whatever I can get out of commissions.”

She observed Kyle as he recharged his ring and when he was finished, she asked, “How much do you charge for commissions?”

He blinked and looked up at her. “Oh, well it depends on what the commissioner wants me to do.”

“Give me a price range.”

“Uh…between eighty and two hundred. That’s usually what I charge.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment. “Mind showing me some of your best works? I’ve been thinking about hiring a graphic artist for a new project I’m working on.”

Kyle felt a giddy feeling rise in his chest and he practically tripped over himself to his desk to grab his sketchbook. His cheeks were warm when she giggled and took it from him, flipping through it in silence. And that wracked his nerves because without the cowl on, he could see just how scrutinizing her gaze was.

After a moment she passed it back to him and when she didn’t say anything, merely frowned, he couldn’t help but deflate a bit. “I guess it’s not what you’re looking for, huh?” he tried to sound light, but it came out a lot bitter than he meant.

(Y/N) hummed. “It’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

“I can get you in touch with a better artist at the—” he stopped mid-sentence and gaped at her. “Wait, what was that you said just now?”

She snorted. “I said your work is exactly what I’m looking for.”

He couldn’t fight the shock coursing through him. “Really? It is?”

Suddenly her smile was replaced with a scowl and she bit out, “Quit making me repeat shit and listen the first time.”

Kyle nodded. “Right. I just…wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“I know,” she replied cockily, then took out her phone and tapped at the screen before showing it to him. “I know you’re a graphic designer and not a clothing one, but you’d be really helpful with the new line of clothing and jewelry I’m planning on making.”

He took her phone gently and swiped at the pictures. “Justice League themed?”

(Y/N) tipped her head. “We’re doing an exclusive line for Gotham’s vigilantes first. If it pays well, we’ll go from there.” She took her phone back and stared at him. “I’m willing to pay you up to two grand for every design you give me.”

Kyle’s eyes practically popped out of his head and his jaw went slack. “Are you—are you being serious?”

She nodded and stowed her phone. “On one condition.”

He nodded. “For two grand a design? I’ll do anything for you.”

The corner of her mouth rose in a smirk and he realized his words too late as she purred, “Well I would love to see you on your knees for me. So, I’ll keep that in mind, Rayner.” Waving a hand, she added, “But besides that, if you want the job, you have to come to the manor.”

“Wayne Manor?”

“Mhm. I’ll provide everything you need to create and design.”

His dark brows furrowed. “I can do that, but why?”

A solemn look came across her face. “You almost got yourself killed tonight because you let your ring power down.” She placed her hands on her hips. “If you want this job, you’re going to take combat lessons from me and you’re going to start working out more.”

Kyle’s face pinched. “You want me to work out and get my ass kicked for a job?”

“More like so my brothers don’t lose a best friend.” She shrugged. “But, if a freelance artist like you can find better money elsewhere, I’d be happy to let you go and—”

“I get it!” he scowled and looked away for a moment before sighing and turning back to her, his hand outstretched. “Fine. It’s a deal. You pay me and I’ll do your designs.”

“And?” she questioned with a smirk.

He groaned, his muscles already feeling the pain coming. “And I’ll take lessons from you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m so glad we could come to an arrangement.” She shook his hand. “It’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Rayner.”

Kyle swallowed thickly as she pulled away and walked to the fire escape. “Likewise, Miss Wayne,” he replied lowly, knowing that with each sway of her hips, he was getting more and more screwed. Not only was she his better, she was also his best friends’ older sister—hotter and badass older sister.

She opened the window and paused, looking back at him. “This’ll be a three-month project. Are you okay with that, Kyle?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” (Y/N) seemed to be thinking about something and he could tell. “Is something on your mind?”

She pulled on the cowl and gazed at him. “I’ve half a mind to tell you to pack a bag and spend the time at the manor while we do the project.”

“Pay my rent and I’ll consider it,” he snorted and then she blinked and shifted her gaze down to her wrist then tapped at it.

After a minute, she said, “Alright, your rent and utilities have been paid for the next three months.”

“What?”

“You said pay your rent. So, I did.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Kyle begged—he didn’t want to owe her like that.

She smiled. “Pack a bag Rayner. You’re moving in.”

“Seriously?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop making me repeat things?”

He sighed heavily, moving to pack. “Yes ma’am.”

“Ooo, call me ma’am like that again and I might not let you leave when this is over.”

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ghostofechoes · 2 years ago

Text

Steve coughed a deep rattly thing that felt like throwing more acid on the constant burn at the back of his throat, muscles ached to move on top of his head thrumming in pain.

But besides droopy tired eyes he looked fine, so everyone was satiated. Morph as Eddie named him was perched on his shoulder looking just as tired.

Do people name their souls? No one answered that just snickered in that grossly loving way parents do when their kid said something stupid.

That didn’t stop him from calling the red blob Morph anyways.

Steve watched as the last of his kids left grinning and shoving each other like idiots. I sight he missed seeing, which only looked better with Eddie leading them like a wizard on some quest.

His own soul taking the shape of a staff, just as expressive as he.

They may not be friends yet, but they were getting somewhere. They looked like they all enjoyed each others company at least.

Nancy even gave Robin a ride home. Which was something he was not going to think to much about because his head already felt like it split.

He walked back into the empty house, Mike wasn’t even haunting the halls deciding to spend time with Will.

So if he collapsed on the couch, instead of making the treacherous quest up the steps there was no one there to blame him.

He didn’t know what was going on when his eyes opened to see a long haired figure perched over him. Hairs pulled back out of their face hung limp at their shoulder.

Wearing a relatively form fitting long sleeved sweatshirt. HIS long sleeved sweatshirt he let someone borrow.

Who was it again?

His face scrunched trying to remember only to groan out in pain.

“Idiot you should have told us” the words were whispered not because they didn’t want to be heard, no they knew Steve was sick, that his head was pounding and were treating him accordingly.

He blinked their image still blurry, be it from sleep or the possible migraine whose to say.

He heard the drip of water into a bowl but by the time he peered to see what it was something cold and wet was pressed into his head.

It was gentle and moved with delicacy, almost afraid of hurting him more.

“Take this and go back to sleep” a soft voice lulled under their breath soothingly raising a couple of tablets and a glass of water.

He would do whatever that voice asked of him, it was so hypnotizing. He filled his mouth with water chucked the tablets in before swallowing it all down one gulp.

“Good boy” he could see the grin stretch their lips amused when he rest his head against the hand that cupped his cheek.

With the fever coursing through him he couldn’t feel the hand, just that it was cool and he wanted more.

“I am?” Steve prodded “mhm you’ve done so much for us” he didn’t feel like he has but to have this kind of validation, to be perceived sent a thrill up his spine.

So when the hand tried to leave him tried to take away the security he latched onto it. “No” he wasn’t ready to let go of it. Not yet.

“Rest, I’ll tell you what an idiot you are when you wake up” they cooed before humming a gentle tune. Never letting go

He fell right back to sleep.

Thinking if only Eddie would take care of him like this. But there’s no way it could happen this Eddie didn’t like him.

This Eddie barely saw him as a friend

The next time he opened his eyes he felt utterly rejuvenated only to see Eddie’s face right there in front of his face holding a towel rather menacingly.

He screamed. Eddie screamed they bother were screaming until Eddie cut into it laughing.

“Damnit Eddie” Steve huffed haphazardly shoving him away unable to hid his smile.

“Oh my, looks like the patient finally woke up” Eddie said with a pitched British accent.

“Very funny Marry Poppins, but have you seen the doctor of the house?” He played along looking around a tinge of red to his cheeks thinking about how childish he acted last night.

“Ouch Vintage that was clearly a Mrs. Doubtfire impersonation, seems to me someone needs to study more 90s pop culture” he clicked his tongue slapping Steve’s head with the towel.

Steve rolled his eyes “ Seriously Eddie where is she” he was embarrassed, he needed to apologize for making a scene, shit for having to be taken care of.

God he felt like an idiot.

It was Eddie’s turn to look confused “who?” Steve’s face grew even more red, “Nancy” he rubbed his face wiping all the guck off with the towel Eddie smacked him with.

There was no way in hell he was gonna let Eddie of all people know what happened so he kept it vague. Taking the glass and pills handed to him, repeating the same motion from last night.

“There is uh… something I need to talk to her about…about last night she uh took care of me” he scratched his face trying to hide how stupid he felt.

There was this weird ripping sensation he felt before morph slammed into his face squeezing him hard almost frantically.

He poked the little blob giving him barely any of his attention focused on Eddie who had fell back and knocked over the bowl of water cursing.

“Shit sorry, uh no she uh” Eddie voice was frantic looking for a towel or something to dry the mess off. Or so Steve thought.

“Left a bit ago told me to um…make sure you take that medicine”

Steve beamed so bright before reeling it back in coughing to regain that lost composure knowing that Eddie was taking care of him even a bit.

Fuck he had it bad.

“Thanks” he smirked smacking Eddie with the towel so he could clean it up not noticing the second one laying beside him on the couch nearly dry and warm.

“Of course Vintage” he said warm like honey.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #soulmate au #soul creatures #soul colors #I’m sick #made me think of steve #so i wrote this #ficlet #might not actually happen #in my actual fic I mean #debating

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the-chicken-or-the-banana · 3 years ago

Note

I always wondered how the foxes would react to finding out that it was andrew that "hit on" neil first (specially Kevin, since he was just standing right there while that happened)

(now, i don't think they would willing just talk about it but if one of them slip up...)

Btw: i absolutely adored the goodbye kisses series

AHHH sorry for being so MIA lately but i'm absolutely loving this! also i'm realizing that i'm very bad at actually getting to the point so enjoy a shit ton of irrelevant exposition :)

read it on ao3 here

— ··· —

Kevin didn't understand why they had to come to the zoo. It was smelly, there were kids screaming everywhere, and he'd nearly been stepped on three times in the past 10 minutes. He much rather preferred exy to this.

Team bonding sucked.

He trudged along beside Aaron as Dan, Matt, and Nicky actually tried socializing with the new Foxes. Normally, Kevin would jump at the chance to talk about exy with these recruits, but also, normally he didn't feel like he'd just just rolled through a flaming dumpster filled with screeching, pooping monkeys.

Kevin let out a sigh as they passed some sort of mildly interesting snake exhibit. He nudged Aaron, who was on his phone with a red face, which meant he was either texting lovey-dovey things to Katelyn or blasting an idiot in his Ochem class. You never really knew with him.

"Aaron."

Aaron just scowled at him. Kevin sighed again. Conversing was always so much more exhausting than he anticipated.

"Snakes."

"What."

"Do you want to... see the snakes?"

Aaron blinked in confusion. "Okay?"

Kevin led them to the snakes.

There, they shoved past some families and made it to the front of the glass enclosure.

"Well?" Aaron asked. "Now what do we do?"

Valid question, Kevin thought. He hadn't really considered what they were doing. He just wanted to see snakes.

He told Aaron as much, who rolled his eyes aggressively and went back to his phone.

Kevin felt a tap on his shoulder and twisted around, coming face-to-face (well, more like chest-to-face) with some sort of tour or information guide.

"Hi!" she smiled all too brightly. Kevin wanted to cover his eyes. "How are you enjoying the exhibition?"

"Um," Kevin gulped eloquently, then remembered his media training. "Oh yeah, it's great!"

"Awesome," she beamed. "You know, there's a snake feeding session in about 5 minutes if you and your son are interested."

Kevin's face contorted in confusion. He whirled around, assuming some tiny, lost child was latched near him, but when he turned back, the lady — Sandy — had her gaze intensely focused on the only other small person near him: Aaron.

Oh dear.

Aaron seemed to come to the same conclusion as Kevin did because his eyes widened comically and he hissed "I. am. not. his. son."

Sandy blinked owlishly. "Little brother then?"

Aaron threw his hands up. "I am 21! Leave me alone." He then proceeded to stomp out of the enclosure, dragging Kevin along and leaving a very flummoxed old lady behind them.

"I can't believe it," Aaron kept muttering. "Your son. Your son! I hate life."

Kevin was a bit miffed that he hadn't actually been able to see the snakes, but he figured Aaron's plight was slightly more significant than that.

After a few moments of silent walking (Kevin) and angry grumbing (Aaron), Kevin realized he couldn't see any of the Foxes anymore. He glanced around, instinctively searching for Andrew.

"Hey, do you know where Andrew and Neil went?" Kevin asked.

Aaron scoffed. "They're probably making out somewhere."

"Who's making out?"

Aaron and Kevin both gave unholy screeches as they turned around to find Nicky standing between them, a wide, innocent grin on his face.

"What the fuck," Aaron complained. "Don't do that again, you bitch."

Nicky waved him off. "Shut up. Who's making out? Might be able to close some bets."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "We just can't find Andrew and Neil anywhere. Aaron seems to believe they're off deflowering a zoo Port-A-Potty or something."

"Well then, we wouldn't want to interrupt them, right?" Nicky winked. "Anyways, we're all going to the butterfly exhibit right now so y'all have to join us. I'm not taking no for an answer."

It seemed that they had no choice, so after sharing a resigned glance, Kevin and Aaron trudged behind an overly enthusiastic Nicky while he babbled on about some parrots that he saw. It really didn't seem as interesting as Nicky was making it out to be, but Kevin didn't want to say anything lest he was expected to participate in the conversation too.

They finally reached the butterfly exhibit where the other Foxes were waiting for them. They entered as a mass of loud, mildy buff, smelly athletes and got more than a few glares from the parents of young children who moved out of the way.

But in all this movement, the path cleared and Kevin found... Andrew and Neil? He was about to turn to Aaron and tell him that they evidently not making out, until he noticed how still Andrew was standing and the glee on Neil's face.

Nicky's gaze caught onto them a second later, because he squealed and grabbed Kevin's arm, jabbing his finger at the sight.

"Oh my God," he whispered. "Is that a butterfly on Andrew's nose? That is adorable."

Kevin squinted, and yes, that's exactly what it appeared to be. Nicky's outburst had caught Allison's attention, and she began marching over to Neil and Andrew, the rest of the Foxes in tow.

Kevin could already tell this was going to be a mess.

When they finally reached Andrew, Aaron was the first to speak. "What the fuck?" he asked flatly. Andrew glared at him. Slowly, as to not move the butterfly, he raised his hand to gently flip off his brother.

Nicky immediately started cooing. "Aww, don't worry Andrew! I think you look adorable."

Andrew began slipping out a knife.

On Allison's left, Kevin saw Dan practically shaking with laughter as she pulled out her camera and snapped a picture.

Neil opened his mouth, probably to tell off Dan but Nicky rushed in to talk to him.

"Soooo," he waggled his eyebrows. "I didn't know you could see the future, Neil."

Neil stared at him blankly and turned back to Andrew as he pulled out a map, but Nicky rallied on.

"Like, you must have been able to predict that one day Andrew was going to be this adorable. That's why you asked him out, right?"

"What?" Neil asked distractedly. "I never asked him out."

Kevin blinked in surprise. After a moment's consideration, he realized that considering how utterly oblivious Neil could be, it really was no shocker that Andrew had to ask him out first.

"Wait wait wait," Matt shook his head. "So Andrew asked you out?"

Neil waved them off as he continued squinting at the map he was holding. "Yes yes, just go ask Kevin, he was there."

All eyes turned to Kevin. Kevin was very lost.

"What the fuck," Aaron repeated. "I'm so confused."

"Me too," Kevin muttered. "Me too."

— ··· —

After their long day at the zoo was over, the Foxes finally began the trudge back up to their respective dorms. The younger Foxes dozed off immediately, but the older Foxes gathered in the girls' room to drop off the bags they had borrowed for the trip.

In all the commotion, no one really noticed Andrew and Neil leaving together. But right before they slipped out the door, Renee caught sight of them.

"Good night, you two!" she called. Neil turned around and gave her a tired wave, his body slumped on Andrew.

"Wait!" Nicky scrambled off the sofa. "Before I forget: Neil, how did Andrew ask you out?"

Neil blinked sleepily. "Well," he slurred. "He asked if he could blow me."

The room went silent.

Andrew heaved a sigh and dragged Neil out the door, leaving seven wide-eyed, very much awake athletes in their wake. Slowly, everyone turned to Kevin.

"You!" Allison weakly jabbed a finger in his direction. "You knew about this!"

Too late, Kevin realized what Neil's statement meant. Andrew had asked out Neil in front of Kevin. By offering sex. Nothing could have possibly ruined Kevin's night as much as this information had.

He met the Foxes' eyes slowly. Even Renee looked a bit surprised at Neil's admission, but she was clearly biting back a smile. "Trust me," Kevin groaned. "If I had known this had happened, I would have won myself so many bets."

"Damn," Nicky sighed. "I wish Erik and I had such an iconic story. Who knew the quiet, stabby cousin was such a horny gay bastard?"

"I," Aaron announced hotly. "have never wanted to forget a conversation more than this one."

"But Aaron. Andrew asked to blow him."

"Nicky, I swear— "

"OH MY GOD. They're probably having sex right now! Kevin, could you— "

Aaron put his head in his hands. "Please shut up now."

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asset35-maya · 3 years ago

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Nice Things

Inspired by this spectacular drawing of long-haired Nines by @marndraws

Gavin Reed never had nice things.

Every day was a fight for survival. He studied hard, worked hard and did everything he could to come out on top… but he never had nice things. If he did, they wouldn’t last.

Then the most beautiful creature to walk the planet entered his life.

A sheer scientific miracle. A combined feat of engineering and art. The most advanced android ever built… and the kindest soul the mean city of Detroit had ever seen.

Nines.

Gavin had no idea how to interact with the RK900 in the beginning. If it were any other new partner he’d have been his usual abrasive self, but there was something about the android that left him dumbstruck. No insults came to mind, so Gavin stuck to silent cooperation (and obedience, actually).

The RK900 model was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. There was no doubt about that, but it was how the android carried himself that took things to another level entirely. Poise, elegance and flair touched everything that he said and did.

It extended to the way he transformed his appearance after deviancy. Nines shed his Cyberlife uniform with the harsh turtleneck and stiff jacket in favour of softer, more delicate garments. He still stuck to dark colours, but his clothes were all loose and flowing. He dressed more like an interior decorator than a homicide detective (and it honestly served him well).

Gavin often had to tear his gaze away from the refined fabrics and unconventional styles that Nines wore. Gavin never had nice things… but he certainly had an eye for them.

And then there was Nines’ hair…

When Gavin had first seen the change from the default appearance settings, he had to leave the station, find a quiet alley and focus on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Nines… for some unknown, wild, spectacular, unprecedented, utterly amazing reason… had decided to lengthen his hair and let it hang loose around his shoulders.

The dark tresses were as expressive as the android himself. They danced when he laughed. They whipped the air when he animatedly told a story with his steel blue eyes flashing. They shone in every damn light.

Gavin couldn’t help but stare. He never had nice things… but he was drawn to them.

Not a day went by that he didn’t want to reach out and tuck the fine strands behind Nines’ ear, but he held back from giving in to such insanity.

Nines didn’t hold himself back though.

For all the times Gavin had been looking, so had he. He made his move in the middle of a very boozy Christmas party at the DPD. It didn’t take much of an effort. They left the party together on the flimsy pretext of Nines showing Gavin his Christmas lights at home… and promptly fell into bed together.

Gavin had never had nice things… but he knew exactly what he wanted, and when they were presented to him on a silver platter, he knew how to take them.

Nines’ hair was as soft as he imagined and even silkier than he dreamed. He couldn’t stop running his fingers through the lifelike synthetic fibres and Nines couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch either.

Bliss.

On the third anniversary of the Christmas party, the pair found themselves in very much the same position, only that they didn’t actually make it to the mindless office event this time. The day started and ended in bed.

Fairy lights glittered and tastefully-chosen tinsel framed the snow-laden windows of their loft apartment. The large Christmas tree emanated a warm glow that reached even the bedroom where they lay tangled in the sheets.

Nines was draped over Gavin’s chest, his fingers skimming idly across the warm skin.

“Sweetheart…”

“Nines.”

Gavin’s wary tone of voice made the android laugh. A velvet sound that the human would follow to the ends of the earth.

“What’s the thing you love most about me?”

Gavin exhaled loudly, hugging Nines closer.

“Baby, you know I ain’t good at words and shit.”

“I’m not asking you to write me a poem. Just tell me what you love most about me.”

He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Is this a test?”

“I don’t have to test you. I know everything there is to know about you. I can read you like a book even with my analysis software turned off.”

“Uh huh. Then why the inquisition?”

“Because validation is nice.”

Gavin snorted and carded his fingers though Nines’ gorgeous hair.

“Guess I can start by applauding your honesty.”

Nines hummed, rubbing slow circles into Gavin’s pec with his thumb. A few minutes went by and Gavin began to drift off to sleep.

“So what’s more attractive to you? My personality or my looks?”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“What the ph-”

“There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.”

Nines propped himself up on his elbows and peered into Gavin’s face. It was truly a magnificent sight. Two piercing blue eyes… plush lips curling into a smirk… a cyan LED… and a perfectly arched eyebrow. A pale, angular face… framed by sweeping curtains of dark, glossy hair.

Gavin gulped.

“I can’t choose. You’re the total package.”

“Cop out.”

“Pfffft. You tell me then. What do you like better? My mug or my sharp wit? Hah. Betcha can’t answer that for all the complex calculations your supercomputer brain can do.”

Nines tossed his hair over his shoulder and elevated himself further, pressing his forearms onto Gavin. His fixation with the human’s muscular chest was no secret.

“I can.”

“Huh.”

“You hardly said anything when we first met so I had nothing to go off for your personality-”

“Maybe I was mysterious and aloof and ya just couldn’t resist.”

“No, I actually thought you were kind of slow. All your medals and service awards didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Wowww.”

“So it had to be your body. Why else would anyone keep you around?”

“Is that why you stuck around too?”

“Maybe.”

“You little-”

Gavin reversed their positions on the bed, flipping Nines onto his back and curling huge biceps around his lithe body. Nines tipped his head back to allow Gavin to drag his teeth across his throat and latch onto his collarbone. Some moments passed like that until Nines regained control by hooking a leg over the human’s waist to slow him down.

“Fine. I confess. It was the leather jacket.”

“Seriously?”

Nines dug his heel into Gavin’s coccyx.

“It was everything about your appearance that you had control over… or weren’t born with at least. For instance, your face is conventionally attractive, but it’s all the lines and scars and little things that made me wonder what kind of a life you’d lived… what you might have gone through... how you came out stronger. And yes, your body is a temple, but it’s the work you put into it that I admire. You know how to take care of yourself and that’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Nines accepted a rather sloppy kiss with grace. He rubbed his hands up and down his partner’s back.

“So. Tell me. What was it for you? What is it for you?”

Gavin’s right hand subconsciously found its way into Nines’ long hair and caressed his scalp. He sighed into the crook of Nines’ neck and took in the familiar scent that was neither entirely human nor entirely artificial. Everyone expected androids to smell like a new car but the fact was that each of them had their own unique smell. It was impossible to describe in words, but it was one of the many many things Gavin loved about Nines.

“Babe, I think you’re asking a shit ton of questions, but none of them are what you actually wanna ask.”

“Say more.”

“Gavin, do you love me because I look like a Greek god or is it because I’m smart as phck? Gavin, what did you notice first about my sexy android ass? Does the same thing get you off today, or is it something else?

I think… there’s something you already know… or something you think you know… and you’re just trying to get me to say it and dig myself into a giant hole.”

Nines didn’t respond but his LED did. Gavin chuckled and pressed his lips to the spinning yellow light.

“Called it.”

Nines rolled his eyes.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Admit it, you’re obsessed with my hair.”

“And you’re obsessed with my tits. We take turns objectifying each other. First sign of a healthy relationship.”

The android’s sharp nose scrunched up at a particular word and Gavin closed his eyes in resignation. Despite his best efforts he’d walked right into the trap.

“Dammit, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never ever see you as an object-”

“My, my… we’re lying here two years to the day we became…”

“A thing.”

“Yes. And here I am reminiscing about what made you even look at me in the first place… and it turns out the credit goes more to Cyberlife than it does to me.”

Gavin groaned while his lover’s tinkling laughter rang out. He had to think fast if he had to turn the tables.

“So I’m that slow?”

Nines looked back at him, confused.

“You just dragged MY instincts. Like I’m dumb enough to fall for a program written by some geeky little code nerd. Like it was all totally predetermined and I didn’t see you tease and flirt and practically fall over yourself trying to get my attention for months. Huh?”

Gavin tightened his grip and gave his partner an affirmative shake.

“All those outfits and nail colours and pointy shoes and sparkly, shiny things. You saw me looking and you just kept stepping it up.”

He grasped Nines’ jaw and kissed him firmly.

“And your hair, baby… yeah, some genius worked on the tech at some point… but they didn’t tell you how to wear it. They didn’t tell you about the length or cut or angle. They didn’t tell you to walk around looking like a phcking prince. They didn’t tell you to roll the car windows down on the highway so your hair could fly in my face and drive me phcking crazy…”

Gavin thrust his fingers into the dark locks and pulled the android back in for a series of open-mouthed kisses and tantalising swipes of his tongue. Nines started to reciprocate physically, but Gavin swatted his hands away, not wanting to let things go further without making it clear who had gained the upper hand in their ridiculous game. He broke away panting.

“I love you. Don’t ask me why because there isn't one single reason. And I phcking love your hair. Not just ’cause it’s pretty but ’cause you’re the only motherphcker in that precinct who’d show up to the gristliest of crime scenes looking like a runway model.”

They stared at each other. Nines’ LED flickered.

“I… wow, sweetheart… okayyy… I… love you too.”

A moment of silence passed and Gavin rounded things off with his classic double wink.

“You’re welcome.”

Nines smiled, accepting defeat. He reached up and carefully rearranged his hair, letting it fan out on the pillow. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Gavin dipped his head down and returned his lips to Nines’, kissing him under the covers until his LED spun bright blue.

Gavin Reed never had nice things… until he learnt how to take good care of them.

Part 2: Red Dress

#reed900 #gavin900 #dbh gavin #gavin reed #rk900 #dbh rk900 #dbh nines #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #tw: implied sex #high romance #my writing #dbh writing

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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Transfer Student | Draco x Reader

Prompt: After transferring from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to Hogwarts, all of Hogwarts’ eyes is on the new girl. An American Gryffindor? Everyone wants to be your friend, steal a glance from you, or ask you on a date. Can Draco resist the hype or will he end up all for the new girl?

Warnings: None! Just some fluff and longing looks from bitch boy Malfoy

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: My requests box is very full oh my LORD. I’m trying to churn them out as consistency as possible, so if I skip a day with no imagines, it’s mostly for me to take a breather and catch up on my actual work for my job and school.

America was home, no matter where you were in the world. You grew up an American and lived your life with that culture and their customs. Going to school at Ilvermorny was a treat. Tucked away in the mountains in Massachusetts, it was your happy place, full of other kids from across America, studying magic. But things changed drastically when your father was offered a position at the Ministry of Magic overseas in London. Your parents were thrilled, a prestigious job in a new country; your father accepted the position, no question. You on the other hand were more nervous than anything. Moving meant new school, new friends, new start. Not to mention, if you moved within the country, you would still attend Ilvermorny. But now that you were moving overseas, it really meant a new start with a whole different school with a whole different body of students.

Your mother was insistent that you would be just fine starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Mom,” you insist, “I’m an American among a sea of people from the UK. I’m going to be a fish out of water. They’ll know the moment I open up my mouth!”

But there was no changing their minds. You were moving to London whether you liked it or not. So you had to say goodbye to all of your friends at Ilvermorny. Although you expressed your anxieties about moving and switching schools, the rest of your friends were jealous of your move. Saying how London was a beautiful city and they were so jealous of all the culture and events happening. It did seem exciting, you always wanted to visit Europe, but not like this.

Soon enough, you were on a plane to London from America, your things packed up and ready to ship you off to Hogwarts. When you arrived, your heart raced with excitement and nerves. London was a little grey and stormy, but it was still beautiful. People most melodically and dressed neatly. Men in suits, carrying around briefcases, heads tilted down as they ran to work. Women dressed cleanly and beautifully, walking to work, in and out of shoppes. Your mother gave your hand a squeeze as your father insisted you took the Tube to your new home.

London was very different from your hometown. Much more hustle and bustle with busy people, but its people were much kinder than Americans. Strangers offered you small smiles as you looked at your surroundings. As you arrived to your new home, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was different. Even the oven. You couldn’t think about how long it was going to take to get you adjusted to this life. You drag your suitcases into your room, flipping open the latches. “Don’t bother unpacking, honey,” your mom calls. “You leave for Hogwarts tomorrow, remember?”

Your stomach sinks. You couldn’t even get used to your new home because tomorrow you had to get used to your new life at Hogwarts.

The next morning, you arrived at the train station, confused as ever. Your mom and dad walked with you through the station, interrogating you on what to tell the Professors when they asked for your information at arrival. “My name is (Y/N), I’m the transfer student from Ilvermorny, I’m going to be a junior,” you start.

“You’re a sixth year student,” your father corrects. You look at him, confused. “The education system here is different, sweetie. You’ll technically be going into year six at Hogwarts.”

Sighing, you know that this was going to take some getting used to.

----

You watched your parents wave goodbye to you, your mother with tears in her eyes. Your heart drops, not wanting to leave your parents to go off to somewhere that was completely foreign to you. As the view of your parents fades, you walk through the train, looking for an empty stall to sit. People sat with groups of friends, laughing, picking up right where they left off. Why couldn’t you have been a first year student? This would have made things so much easier. As a sixth year, everyone had friend groups and you would have to wiggle your way into one.

Finally, you find an empty car and plop yourself down on the seat, laying your head back. Here’s to the start of a miserable year, you think to yourself. You play with the charm bracelet on your wrist that your mother gave to you when you started school at Ilvermorny. The bracelet had a Thunderbird charm on it, the mascot of your house at Ilvermorny, and the same house as you parents. You were a proud Thunderbird, but now you had to be sorted into a new house with a new breed of people. You only hoped that whichever house you were sorted into had the same type of people as Thunderbird did.

As you mindlessly play with the charms on your bracelet, the car that you sat in’s doors slid open. “Are you alone?” a blonde haired girl asks you, noticing you amongst the chaos of the cars around you. “Would you like some company?”

“That would be nice, actually,” you offer her a thankful smile.

The blonde haired girl sits down in the booth across from you, pushing all of her thick hair to one shoulder. “Your accent,” she notices, her eyes widening. “It’s American,” her dainty English accent points out as you blush in embarrassment. “It’s lovely.” You slightly smile and blush, silently thanking her. “Are you a transfer student from Ilvermorny?”

You nod, “Yeah, actually. My name is (Y/N), by the way. I’m a jun-I mean a sixth year student.”

“I’m Luna,” she shakes your hand politely. “I also a sixth year. Look! You’ve only been here for five minutes and you’ve already made a friend in your year!” Your heart swell at the word friend. At least you at Luna to tag along with. The two of you talk for a while, you telling her about America and why your family moved to England, confiding in her about your nervousness about the new school and making new friends. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making friends, (Y/N). Everyone at Hogwarts is very friendly. Besides, once you get sorted into your house you’ll make a ton of friends that way!” Your stomach churns. “Do you reckon what house you’ll be sorted into?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “Nope. Back at Ilvermorny I was a Thunderbird. But I don’t know if that means I’ll get sorted into a specific house at Hogwarts.” You reach into your backpack and pull out a pack of Fruit Roll Ups. “Want one?” you open the box to her as she gives you a hesitant look. “It’s good I promise,” you giggle. “If you don’t like it, you can force me to eat a gross British snack,” you tempt as she laughs before taking one from the box.

The two of you sit in the car, peeling open your Fruit Roll Ups, munching on the sticky snack. As you laugh at Luna getting it stuck in her teeth, another person comes to the car door, sliding open, making you yelp out scared, them surprising you. “What’s that?” the red headed boy asks, referring to the snack you munch on. You just look at him, bewildered that he just burst through, no introduction, no hello, no nothing. “Oh, hi Luna,” he smiles as Luna waves. The red headed boy looks at you. “You’re new,” he states as if you didn’t know. “I’m Ron Weasley,” he smiles at you warmly, making every bad thought about him leave your mind.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you reply before tossing the ginger a Fruit Roll Up. He catches it, eyes wide with excitement as he tears it open.

Ron sits next to Luna as he peels his Roll Up. “Your accent. You’re an American,” he points out as he looks to Luna who smiles sweetly.

You tease, “Really? I didn’t notice.” This makes Ron let out a chuckle before eating his Fruit Roll Up in two bites. “I’m a transfer from Ilvermorny.”

“Ron! Where did you go?” a voice calls from the hall. Suddenly, a girl with brown hair, wrapped in a stripped cardigan appears with a worried look on her face. It instantly relaxes when she sees Ron sitting next to Luna and you, wrappers in his hand from the Fruit Roll Up. “Ron, you can’t just interrupt two people’s conversation and then eat their snacks.”

Ron puts his hands up in defense. “She offered it to me!”

The girl rolls her eyes at his antics before walking into your car. The booth was getting awfully full very quickly. “I’m sorry about him. He has the mental capacity of a teaspoon,” she says, making Ron let out an offended hey! “I’m Hermione Granger. You are?”

You shake her extended hand with a smile. “(Y/N), I’m a transfer student fr-”

“Ilvermorny! I heard we were getting an American, but I didn’t believe it! Wow! It’s so nice to meet you,” she exclaims, scooting closer next to you. “Are you excited to be here? Which house do you think you’ll be sorted into? From what I’ve heard about you, you were a Thunderbird, correct? I reckon you’ll be a Gryffindor by the looks of it,” Hermione fires away. You were little taken aback by how forward she was, but you had to admit it was sweet.

All of your fears of not being able to make any friends slowly faded away.

----

It has been a week since you arrived at Hogwarts. As Hermione had predicted, you were sorted into Gryffindor, making her cheer out in delight. “Yay! More girls!” she hugged you tight when you entered the Gryffindor common room. “They can be much,” she refers to Harry and Ron behind her with a little giggle.

You had to say so far, you adjusted well to Hogwarts. You did miss your friends back home, but whenever you started to miss them, you found Hermione or Luna and they would always cheer you up and make you feel right back at home. Your classes were interesting, but hard at Hogwarts. Your Professors were all brilliant, some more intimidating than others. Regardless, you worked hard for your grades, doing study groups with Hermione, quizzing yourself with Luna, and spending countless nights in the library.

However, much to your surprise, you were the talk of the halls at Hogwarts. Whenever you were in the hallways, you would feel people’s eyes on you as you walked beside Luna, whispers throwing your name around. Your anxiety grew. What did people think of you? Did they think you were strange? Did they hate that an American was in the school?

It was actually quite the opposite. People were fascinated by you and how charismatic you were. You were kind to everyone, offering people smiles, making conversation in the Great Hall during meals, offering help with studying. You were the it girl of Hogwarts.

That was a new concept for you since you always blended in at Ilvermorny. Maybe it was time for a change. You were getting invited to parties, asked to hang out on weekends in Hogsmeade, and not to mention, you were a few people’s crushes. “Hi (Y/N),” Seamus waved at you with a shy smile.

“Hey, Seamus,” you smile back, brightly, unaware of his blossoming crush on you. His cheeks turned beet red as you wiggled your fingers back at him. Hermione laughs next to you as a bunch of Gryffindor boys in your year watch you walk down the hall, you tossing your hair over your shoulder. “What’s so funny, Granger?” you ask, pushing her shoulder lightly. “Is it so strange that I say hi to everyone in the halls?”

She just shakes her head. “Are you that blind?” she laughs. “(Y/N), nearly every boy in our year fancies you.” You furrow your brows. Hermione groans, knowing you didn’t understand her slang. “The boys all think you’re cute. They’ve got crushes on you.”

Rolling your eyes is disbelief, you enter your History of Magic class. “Yeah, right, Hermione. The day everyone has a crush on me is the day pigs fly,” you plop down in your chair, grabbing your book out of your satchel. “Besides, I’m sure it’s just the new girl crush. It’ll be over within the next week, I’m sure of it.”

Hermione looks at you knowingly. “(Y/N), you’ve been here for two months now.” You just ignore her comment and continue getting ready to take notes for class. “There’s no denying that you are the popular girl,” she teases you as you fake gag. “I’m serious. I dare you to flirt with anyone in here and see their reaction,” she whispers to you.

You look around the room to see who would be the person most likely to shoot you down if you flirted with them. Two desks over was Blaise Zabini sat next to Draco Malfoy. You smirked and nudged Hermione as if to say watch this. “Blaise?” you ask, his head shooting up to look at you. “I think I forgot my quill. Do you have one I could borrow?” you bat your eyes at him.

A cheeky grin comes across his face as he hands you the one in his hand. “Forgetful today?” he smirks as you giggle. “You can borrow my quill any day,” he winks at you as Hermione fake gags, making Zabini rolls his eyes.

“Why don’t you ask Granger for one next time? The mudblood is always prepared,” Draco speaks from behind Zabini.

Anger rises in your chest as Malfoy laughs about your best friend. “Why don’t you just keep your fat trap shut and cry to daddy about how much you hate this school, Malfoy? No one wants to hear it out of you, least of all me,” you spit before turning away to do your work. Hermione smiles as you, squeezing your hand. “See? Malfoy doesn’t have a crush on me!” you tell her, making her laugh.

Meanwhile, Draco glares at Zabini. “Don’t tell me you fancy the American girl too.” Zabini keeps his mouth shut, knowing what’s best for him. “What is everyone’s obsession with her? She’s American, not from outer space.”

Blaise shakes his head. “Come on, Malfoy. She’s proper fit, isn’t she? Not to mention, she’s quite cheeky and has good banter.”

Draco just slaps Blaise upside the head. “Oh, please,” he huffs. “There’s plenty of girls like that in this school. She’s not the only one.”

Throughout class Draco thinks to himself about what the entirety of Hogwarts’ student body saw in you. He ignored the lecture going on in the front of the classroom and dreamily watched you during class. You sat there, biting down on your lower lip gently in concentration, scribbling down notes as your nose scrunched up when a question came to mind. He could see the wheels churning in your head when you asked a question and then the lightbulb flick on when it was answered and it made sense. You let a small dance play on your lips when you answered a question correctly faster than Hermione. You hair flopped on head perfect as you pushed strands back as they fell. Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and playfulness like a child. Draco’s heart thumped a little louder when you let out a giggle when the professor made an awful joke. His heart nearly stopped when you looked over at him and caught his gaze, your cheeks taking a rosy hue as you looked away shyly. Draco didn’t look away for a second. He wanted you to know he was observing you. Shit, he silently thought as he felt his heart rate pick up when you sent a cheeky wink his way. He was caught.

You left class that day, a little pep in your step. You didn’t think much about people having a crush on you, but something about Draco Malfoy staring at you during class made you giggly. “What are you on about?” Hermione pokes your side. “I know you aren’t happy about that lecture, so spill.”

“Nothing,” you smile as you walk down the hall. “Can’t I just be happy?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. She had a feeling she knew what was happen, but rather than embarrass you about it, she kept to herself. “Alright,” she sing-songs.

------

The more time passed the more Draco found himself thinking about you and itching to get to class just so he could tune the professor out at steal longing glances at you. Sometimes you would catch him as he sent a little wink your way as you blushed. Sometimes he would catch you staring at him which gave him way too much satisfaction of knowing you liked him just as much as he liked you.

You had no problem talking to boys, but Draco was different. You didn’t talk to him much because you were too scared you were going to embarrass yourself in front of him.

But Draco on the other hand found any excuse to walk right up to you in the halls and strike up conversation. He would see you walk down the hall, his eyes zeroing in on, dismissing his friend group as he made his way up to you. He didn’t care who you were with whether it was Luna or Hermione. Draco just slid himself next to you with a sly, “Where are you off to, American girl?”

You did not try to stop the blush from appearing on your cheeks. “What’s it to you, Malfoy?” you tease as he laughs.

“I’d walk you there if you let me,” he suggested as you glanced to Luna or Hermione as they would fall behind to walk to class with Ron or Harry. “Ah, alone at last,” he’d tease as your friend walked away, earning a teasingly slap from you. “Don’t worry, I won’t try and pull anything on you.”

As you sat in another class of History of Magic, you doodled in your notebook. When the professor turned his back to write on the chalkboard, you see a small origami dove fly over to your desk. Curiosity gets the best of you as you peel it open to see a little note scribbled on the inside.

American Girl,

I need to ask you a very important question.

You look to your left to see Draco staring straight ahead at the board, but his eyes look towards you with a sneaky smile on his lips. You shake your head, a grin teasing your lips as you write back, And what would that be, Mr. Malfoy?

When the professor turns back around, you send the note back to him. You watch him scribble for a while, your curiosity eating away inside of you. Finally, he folds the note back up and send it your way quickly.

The note lands back on your desk as you ravenously open it, dying to know what the question was.

You. Me. Hogsmeade. This Saturday.

Your heart flutters and you want to giggle, but you hide your smile and scribble back coyly, That’s not a question, Malfoy.

Again, you send it back his way, watching him open it as you bite your lip to contain your smile as you pretend to pay attention to the class. From your peripheral vision, you watch him scribble back. The note lands back on your desk and you let it sit there for a second, making Malfoy sweat. You let a solid ten seconds pass before looking at the note, pretending to be shocked to see it on your desk, before peeling it open slowly as Malfoy lightly laughs, watching you do so.

So it that a yes?

You smile and write out as slowly as you possibly can. It’s a yes.

The note makes its way back to Draco’s desk as he catches it from the air, ripping it open. He smiles impossibly wider and laughs a “yes,” a little too loud for your professor to hear.

“Mr. Malfoy? Would you like to share something with the class?” your Professor asks.

Draco realizes that everyone’s eyes on him, including you as a deep shade of pink rises to your cheeks. Draco sends you a wink before standing up from his seat, your heart beating fast. What is he doing? “Actually, yes,” he retorts. “I’ve got a date with the new girl,” he declares. Girls all turn to you before immediately whispering to those around them as some boys groan and others cheer Malfoy on.

You just sit there, blushing like a fool. Hermione grabs your arm. “No way,” she speaks.

“You better believe it,” you whisper, eyes not leaving Draco’s as Zabini high fives him. Saturday could not come quicker.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

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mylittlelonelyappreciation · 3 years ago

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May joy and peace surround you, contentment latch your door, and happiness be with you now and bless you evermore! ~Irish blessing~

I wanted to come online this evening to wish everyone a Happy New Year! I haven’t been able to be on here as much as I would like, but I’m definitely going to try harder this year because I’ve missed it a lot. I also wanted to give a few shout outs to people who’d made my year a little brighter (okay, maybe a lot brighter).

@youvebeenlivingfictional I just want to say thank you! You’re truly the reason I’m even on this website in the first place. You’re writing is always phenomenal and I find myself going back and rereading whenever I have a moment free. You’ve brought so many new tv series and movies to my attention and into my life and I absolutely love it! One of my goals for the year is to go back and read everything I’ve missed and catch up on everything new. I hope you have a beautiful new year and congratulations on all of your new followers! I hope you know you deserve every single one of them. You are a beautiful human inside and out, don’t ever forget that! ❤

@steeeeeeeviebb You can’t imagine how happy I get every time my phone pings with a new notification from you whether it be a new post, a new story, or even a new message. Thank you for letting me rant, for giving me confidence to write even just a little bit to finish out my year, and for the shares (I’ll keep thanking you for that). You’re an incredible woman and I’m so honored to have you in my life! Don’t let the assholes get you down, bb. You’re too amazing for that! I love you and Happy New Year! ❤

@massivecolorspygiant Mags!! I know you don’t know this, but around the time you and Dany started posting/teasing each other (and the rest of us) *cough*BishandBrat*cough*, I had a shit ton of drama going on in my work life. So, not only did you guys distract me from the bullshit, you also gave me something to look forward to. You are one of the most sweetest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I can’t wait to dive into all your new fics, and all the ones I haven’t had the chance to read yet! Here’s to 2022! ❤

@yespolkadotkitty I just needed you to know how much I appreciate you! You are one of the most genuine and sweetest people I’ve ever had the chance to meet/talk to. Not only that, but your writing is amazing! I still think about that story you wrote for me! I look forward to another year of conversations and reading your stories. Happy New Year, lady! Mwah! ❤

@hansoulo Lari!! I was so glad when I saw you posting again (even if it was a few things I’ll never be able to unsee 🤣) I can’t thank you enough for being the person to give me the push I needed to post my first fic. I hope you have a year as amazing as you are and please know that I am truly grateful be able to call you my friend! ❤

@cxnnxrmar You and I both haven’t been able to be on here much lately but I couldn’t leave you out! I can’t thank you enough for all of your support and your friendship the past two years. It means so much to me and I’m grateful to have met you! ❤

To everyone else who’s made it this far... I hope you have an amazing 2022! I’m sending you all all the love and good vibes I can. Thank you for the follows and the support and the love! Happy New Year! ❤

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wellthebardsdead · 3 years ago

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Dnd tonight again, we’ve been meeting up a lot this week mainly to study and we’ve been having our games as a reward!

Tonight’s game found us leaving windhelm and heading to whiterun where an old face from our last campaign was waiting, I.e mannimarco made a guest appearance and he’ll be joining us as we venture south. And whilst in whiterun we had time to explore.

Seer bought Soleili a bunch of very lovely tundra cotton and lavender soap and a pretty comb, both designed specifically for his hair as in our last game he complained how leaf’s comb hurt his head. And after out performing mikael the bard at the bannered mare and earning a shit ton of money Soleili bought seer a bunch of soul gems and spell tomes as a thank you, and a bag of deep fried dart wings as a treat which he also got skipper as well as a thank you for the ear muffs. Dra’nor and vivec were on hand as Soleili has no real clue or care how money works still.

Leaf wanted to get everyone kitted out in proper armour and took us to the sky forge. Cue Soleili having a panic attack seeing a funeral pyre of his people turned into nothing more than a glorified forge by the nords. Even still after getting fitted for his armour he tried leaving only to bump into the companions coming back from a contract.

At first he was scared and rightfully so, but after realising the current companions didn’t care for the old ways and even allowed and welcomed elves to join their ranks he calmed down a lot. Kodlak said he felt a great deal of shame for the companions history towards elven kind. And Soleili may have a date with a certain warewolf himbo by the name of farkas after he very shyly gifted the snow elf a bundle of flowers stating he found him very beautiful.

Having good standing with vivec and trusting his word after our last campaign, jarl balgruuf has us staying in the castle. And skipper has healed the gildergleam tree by planting a sapling he collected some time before the campaign mistaking it for a hist sapling.

Seer took a lot of interest in the apothecary shop and left with the entire store after scaring the owner so badly she literally gave him everything just to leave.

Dra’nor hated the companions more than Soleili purely because he’s so protective of him and despises them for what they did to his people, he especially hated athis because he’s a dark elf but by the end of the game and several compliments like, “your mane is so shiny” and “your strength is incredible, you threw me like I weighed nothing!” His opinion changed a lot and he’s now debating whether or not to go on a date with him after the Dunmer asked if he was single.

Mannimarco is questioning Vivecs visions after seeing our group but he really likes seer and skipper. He’s allowed our little argonian friend to ride around in his robes, and he’s pointed out that seer has a spectral hagborn following him, the auger of dunlain. Who most likely latched onto him from the collage.

And nylsi turned the court wizard into a snail after he insulted her magical prowess and Soleili threatened to crush him under his boot if he didn’t apologise which he did. Out of fear mostly lol.

Over all it was a good game. Soleili keeps all his friends gifts to him very close and likes to lay them out before bed to admire each one piece by piece. He almost cried when a string on his lute broke, he didn’t know they could be replaced, not until skipper so eagerly did so for him 🥺~Bambi

#not overwatch related #dnd #elder scrolls

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

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You Don’t Have To

Happy Birthday @screennamealreadyused !! Your birthday gift is a damijon ficlet. I get the feeling you like overdramatic, soap-opera-y fics based on the kinda stuff you come up with in the server, so hopefully that came across.

What Jon didn’t think other people realized was that Damian, if comfortable enough, enjoyed talking. Of course, the subjects he was interested in were a tad limited, and he mentioned decapitation too often for Jon’s liking, but he enjoyed it. Barring Nightwing, Jon doubted anyone had ever taken the time to sit and listen to what Damian had to say, but Nightwing was his own adult superhero with his own adult life. And despite the fact that Damian was prickly and rude, his holier-than-thou attitude absolutely infuriating, his tendency to just drag Jon wherever he wanted despite the fact that Jon could technically crush him with one foot, despite all of that, Jon decided he wanted to be Damian’s friend. He was interesting, loud and abrasive in a way Smallville never boasted.

Today it was cows. Ma Kent had let Damian milk some of the cows, and now, sitting on the roof of the barn, licking melting ice cream drops off their hands, Damian was telling Jon the story of a couple bulls Ra’s had bought.

“You ever think about going to go visit them?” Jon asked.

“Jon,” Damian said dryly. “Grandfather killed the bulls a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Also,” Damian’s voice had dropped, going quiet in a purposefully shy way that Jon had never heard before, “I’m not even sure I would be welcomed back.”

“What?” Jon said, almost on instinct. “That’s nuts! I mean, I know your Grandad is a crazy assassin or something, but your mom...she loves you right?”

“She does,” Damian said, then added, “sort of.”

“You can’t only sort of love someone,” Jon said, because Mom was sharp and pointy, her lips turned up in a smirk as she chased down a story, her fingernails tapping on a paper pad. But she tried to make Jon cookies even though she always burnt them and called Kon over so they could do their nails together and told Jon bedtime stories and she loved him.

Damian hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “My mother wanted a perfect son. One she could use to reclaim her supposed place by Father’s side, one that would take over Batman title.”

“But...” Jon urged on.

“But I don’t think Batman was ever meant to be a legacy, not the way Robin or Batgirl were. And,” Damian paused, growing so quiet Jon had to use his superhearing to make out what Damian mumbled. “I don’t really want to be Batman.”

Damian cringed, as if expecting Jon to say something cutting, something admonishing. Jon just said the first thing that came into his head.

“You don’t have to.”

Startled, Damian looked up. “What?”

“You don’t have to,” Jon repeated. “You don’t have to be Batman if you don’t want to. You can be some other hero, or even make your own name.”

“I can’t just do that!”

“Sure you can,” Jon said. “What’s stopping you?”

“My mother, I think. Also, I suppose it’s just expected of me.”

“Nah,” Jon said, finishing off the last of his ice cream. “No one’s expecting you are forcing you to do anything. If you don’t want to be Batman, you don’t have to be Batman.”

Damian eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Maybe not,” Jon shrugged. “But I’ll back you up.”

“She wants me to come back,” Damian whispered, his voice drowned out by the chirping of crickets outside, the sunset approaching.

“What?” Jon asked, scrambling to sit up. His limbs move awkwardly on the bed, moving with the exact opposite of grace, the way most teenagers were known for. But as Damian pulled himself into a seated position, curling up his legs, Jon saw nothing but control and elegance. “Who wants you to come back?”

“My mother.”

“Woah, your mother?,” Jon bounced over to sit next to Damian. “And she wants you to come back to...what? The League of Assassins.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jon poured every ounce of incredulity he could muster into his voice. “You’re a hero. You’re not an assassin anymore.”

Damian shrugged, limbs taught and face stony.

“Hold on. Damian. You’re not actually thinking of going with her, right?”

“She’s my mother,” Damian said helplessly. “And though she hasn’t always been the best one, she seemed sincere the last time she asked.”

“Let’s go back to the part where you said she hasn’t always been the best mother, because she hasn’t, at all.”

“What do you want me to say, Kent?” Damian demanded. “By blood, she is my mother. By blood, I am an al Ghul!”

“You don’t have to be.”

“It’s not about being, Jonathan. You cannot change what you are.”

“No,” Jon said thoughtfully. “You can’t change Talia being your mom. But you don’t have to be an al Ghul.”

“That’s what her being my mother means, moron.”

“Well by that logic, Dick’s not your brother,” Jon pointed out.

“What!?”

“He’s a Grayson. He was never adopted by Bruce, and he never changed his name either. By blood, he’s a Grayson, and he can’t change who he is.”

Damian was silent, and Jon felt a little surge of pride at being able to render Damian speechless. But there was a time for gloating, and this wasn’t it. “See? Just because you were born an al Ghul doesn’t mean you have to be one of them. You can be a Wayne, with your dad! Or a Grayson. Or maybe even a Pennyworth!”

“Being a Pennyworth does seem like rather intriguing idea,” Damian said, and he was agreeing with Jon, but drawing closer into himself, huddling up into a little ball. So Jon scooted a little closer and, projecting his movements, wrapped his arms around Damian. Damian didn’t relax into it, but made no move to stop Jon or shift away, so Jon kept holding on.

“Just stick with being Damian for now,” Jon said. “You can figure everything else out later.”

Damian hummed in acknowledgement and slowly, oh so slowly, leaned into Jon’s hug. Privately, Jon didn’t know what he’d do if Damian ever decided to leave and become an assassin. You’d think someone like him would have tons of friends, but Jon’s terrible attempts at secrecy and the way he tried to distance himself in order to keep his powers in check turned most people away. That and being miles ahead of everyone else in class due to Damian’s tutoring (I will not stand to have an associate who is of such low intellectual level) led to Damian being the best of his few friends. He would not handle Damian leaving very well at all.

But he knew that was the last thing Damian wanted to hear. So Jon simply hugged him for a little while, until Mom called them down to dinner.

Jon tried and failed to track Damian’s movements, eyes latching onto his best friend. Exercising to work off anger was apparently a saying Damian took to heart, because Damian had shown up at his house in the middle of the day and, after avoiding Jon’s questions, had paced around the living room, somehow angrily done a backflip and scoffed, saying how he was just as capable of acrobatics to a very confused Jon, and was now doing push-ups.

And the view was—the view was really nice if Jon was being honest with himself, but he was sick of Damian ignoring him. So, he sighed and walked over to Damian, plopping down on his back and folding his legs.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” Jon said.

Damian had been startled into pausing when Jon first made his way over, but soon restarted his reps, and snarled, “I don’t need your help, Kent.”

“Well clearly you do, since you showed up at my house on a weekend seething mad.”

“I’m not seething mad.”

“You’re doing anger push-ups.”

“I am not doing anger push-ups. Those aren’t even a thing.”

“Then what exactly are you doing right now?”

Damian was silent.

Jon made an exasperated noise. He’d sworn to break through Damian’s emotional constipation a long time back, but it clearly wasn’t working. “Damian,” Jon said, stressing each syllable. “Tell me why you’re mad.”

For a minute, Jon thought Damian was going to ignore him entirely. Then, all at once, Damian burst out, “She wants Robin!”

“Who?” Jon asked, though there could only be one candidate.

It was like a dam broke. “Mar’i. She wants Robin. It’s not like she hasn’t been training for it, and I was someone who helped with her training.”

“But you’re not ready to give it up.”

“No,” Damian said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much I relied on the role. I have to be Robin.”

“You don’t. You don’t have to be Robin.”

“Yeah,” Damian sighed. “And I want to give it to her, I really do. I want to pass down Robin so Mar’i looks up to me like right now, instead of ending up with a relationship between their replacements like my brothers. And I don’t even want to imagine how Grayson will feel about it if there’s a fight.”

“You don’t need it, Damian. You’re just scared.”

“Robin was the thing that gave me purpose outside my old life. It’s what made me a hero instead of a villain.”

“Giving it up won’t turn you into a villain either,” Jon hopped off Damian’s back. Holding a hand out, Jon said, “Come on. I think an early patrol will help the both of us. You don’t have to be Robin, and I’m gonna show you that you can still be a hero without it.”

Jon wasn’t exactly sure when the title of “Official Damian Wayne Translator” switched from Dick to him. Granted, the two of them spent a lot of time together, and he knew Damian better than himself.

Then again, that was the problem, wasn’t it.

A bunch of random heroes will just show up in Jon’s dorm room and demand Jon talk some sense into Damian, or work through his problems, or do something to make him less unbearable. And usually, Jon did it.

He listened to Damian’s complaints without hesitation, talked through his struggles and worries attentively. And he never once asked for anything in return.

He knew how hopelessly gone he was. Damian was his best friend, Damian trusted him like no one else. It made Jon feel special, though it really shouldn’t. Because Damian sure didn’t think he was special.

Some small, spiteful part of himself wanted to say something the next time Damian came over with a set of problems for Jon to solve. To say sorry, he had an important assignment due and he had to finish. To say he really didn’t have the time, maybe Damian could come back later. To say he was sick and tired of Damian taking him for granted, for believing Jon would always be there to support him no matter what.

But one look at those eyes filled to the brim with trust and Jon’s resolve crumbed. There were very few people in the world Damian trusted, and Jon would do anything to make sure he never fell off that list.

So he sucked it up, stayed quiet, stayed kind, stayed helpful.

Until Damian came to him one day asking him how to ask a guy out.

“Stop,” Jon whispered, feeling something inside him crack. “Just stop.”

“I—what?”

“You have no right being so cruel.”

Damian stared at him, a hint of apprehensiveness in his face. “What are you talking about?”

“As if you don’t know, Damian. Your family is full of detectives, there’s no way you don’t know.” Oh no, Jon’s voice was starting to waver, but he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t control it, couldn’t pull himself together long enough to tell Damian this one thing. “And I was okay with it, because you didn’t really like anyone. But apparently that’s not true. You just don’t like me.”

Jon looked up at Damian and saw nothing but shock in those green eyes.

“But you need to stop,” Jon continued. “Stop always assuming I’ll be there for you, stop treating me like your personal therapist or whatever, stop taking me for granted.”

“I don’t—” Damian tried to whisper, but Jon cut him off.

“Because I don’t think I can take it anymore,” Jon said, and his voice was entirely too raw for his comfort, so he took a breath to gain some semblance of control. “I’m sorry. I really can’t help you with that. But I can still be your friend.”

There was silence, a thick, heavy silence. Jon opted to stare at the floor, watching his feet fidget nervously.

Then, “You don’t have to.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to. Be just my friend, I mean,” Damian clarified.

“You...you really—what?”

“I didn’t know, Jon,” Damian said, sounding almost ashamed. “I swear I didn’t. If I had, well,” Damian trailed off, stepping closer and looking up at Jon, his face filled with pain.

He tugged Jon down into a kiss, and Jon could barely process what was happening, but Damian was kissing him, so he responded mindlessly. When Damian pulled back, though, he realized the other boy was saying something, over and over and over.

“I’m sorry,” Damian breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

It was like a slap to the face. Damian never said sorry. He fixed the problem, sometimes avoided it outright, or gave a halfhearted, forced excuse. All those years with the Bats had done little to his pride. But here he was, gripping Jon’s arms and apologizing, asking for Jon’s forgiveness like he meant it.

“I never meant to make you feel like that,” Damian “I would never, I swear. You’re my best friend, and I thought that meant being able to talk to you about anything.”

“You can, you always can,” Jon was quick to reassure him.

Damian shook his head. “But I never offered you the same in return. And that was awful of me and I’m sorry. I’ll,” Damian’s voice faltered. “I’ll apologize as many times as I need if it means I still have you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jon assured him. “It’s okay, you mean it, I can tell.” Then, he leaned down to kiss Damian once more, and mumbled against his lips, “You’ll always have me.”

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @iconbicon

#scribbles from the swamp #long post #damian wayne #jon kent #robin #superboy #damijon #dc #damian wayne fic #jon kent fic #robin fic #superboy fic #damijon fic #dc fic

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script-nef · 4 years ago

Text

Interview Time | Oikawa Tooru

Category: fluff

2k words; an eventful interview with Oikawa and his girlfriend

Today we are joined by the phenomenal setter of Club Athletico San Juan, Oikawa Tooru, and the manager of the team, [Name] [Surname]. They are the iconic couple who have brought laughter and joy to many matches by their interactions.

“Hello, [Name] here!”

“Hi, I’m Oikawa! And [Name]-chan, is that a reference to Zuko?”

“It most certainly is. It’s good to see you finally recognise some of my pop culture references now. I was wondering when you’d finally get a hobby outside of volleyball.”

“I have one!”

“Searching for alien conspiracy theories is not a hobby. Tooru, you’re weird as hell.”

“But you still love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Hey!”

You guys are so cute and lively together! Today’s interview will be focused on your relationship, but feel free to reject some of the questions if you’re uncomfortable. Is that okay?

“Sure!”

Q. How did you two meet?

“Oh, I was working for San Juan as one of the managers when he was brought in. Since I’m fluent in Japanese, the head coach asked me to help him around because his Spanish and English was atrocious.”

“Eck, [Name]-chan! I wasn’t that bad!”

“You were terrible, who are you trying to kid? Literally no one could understand half the things you were saying. I was basically your translator for the first year.”

“[Name]-chan!! You’re breaking my heart!”

“As long as your body works for volleyball I don— Okay, okay, I was kidding! Don’t pout, Tooru. You learnt it quick enough and now you don’t have any problems! Besides, it’s thanks to your previously horrible language skills that we got to spend more much time together, right?

“I guess that’s true… Was I really that bad though?”

“Absolutely horrible. Everyone can back me up on this.”

Q. What is one quality about each other that you admire and love the most?

“Tenacity, I guess. In volleyball and everything else. He stays behind all the damn time for hours, none of his teammates can keep up. I once had to conk him on the head and drag him out so he would rest.”

“It hurt! You’re stronger than Iwa-chan sometimes, I don’t even understand how that’s possible.”

“You think I’m stronger than the arm-wrestling champion Iwa-chan?”

“Yes. Anyway, what I love most about [Name] is her perceptivity. Did you know that I once had a small kink in my leg muscle which was uncomfortable and she caught it in a second? No one else noticed except her! And this was before we started dating!”

“Yeah, well. I did spend the most time with you and you constantly tell me things about yourself. Even when I didn’t ask.”

“[Name]-chan is so shy. It’s okay, I know you loved me since the moment you laid your eyes on me.”

“Eh…”

“Hey!”

“I didn’t fall in love with you at first sight, I don’t believe in that. You slowly grew on me because you incessantly hit on me.”

“That’s the best kind of hitting!”

“...hm. Do you, um, like any other sort of hitting—”

“[Name]-chan, we’re on camera! Stop that!”

I’m sorry, please keep this PG, there are young fans who might be watching. Moving on!

Q. What was your first date like?

“First date, huh? It was like, ages ago…”

“It was 6 years ago, in August. We went to the Tango festival in Buenos Aires. I had such a fun time with you then!”

“You had fun stepping all over my feet. It’s honestly appalling how much you sucked at dancing back then. You were bad at a lot of things, huh.”

“She complained about it all night, but even then she was so cute and brilliant. She led me for the second half, stating that she had enough of her feet getting trampled on.”

“Thankfully you picked it up fast. You’re pretty fast at learning new skills.”

“Aww, is the ever-so stoic [Name]-chan praising me? How rare!”

“Well, if you don’t want me to, then…”

“Wait, no don’t stop! I was kidding, praise me more!”

“Ah, don’t latch onto me, this is on cam— Tooru!”

Now, now, please calm down. Straight onto the next question!

Q. Do you have any memorable dates or events?

“Oh, there was this one time.”

“I already said sorry for that!”

“That doesn’t mean it never happened! My jaw still hurts when I think about it!”

“I said sorry every single time!”

“Still! Okay, the story is that I wanted to surprise him when he came back home but it went horribly. The first part, at least. “He didn’t know I was coming over because I wanted it to be a surprise, which in hindsight was a bad idea. I made dinner and turned the lights off when I heard the door unlocking. In my head, it was like ‘pop and and surprise him’, but when I did, he got spooked and hit me in the jaw.”

“It was reflex! [Name]-chan, you popped out screaming ‘surprise’ right in front of me!”

“Yeah, but still. That’s how I now know he has a great right hook. Nearly knocked me out. But his crying and screaming stopped me from falling unconscious.”

“I thought I really did knock you out!”

“Yeah, but you kept on screaming even after I said it was okay. You’ve probably heard of it too, there were news articles about how he came into the emergency room crying his eyes out.”

“I really am sorry about it, [Name]-chan…”

“Hey now, no need to be sad. It’s just a funny memory to tell everyone now.”

At least you can laugh about it now.

Q. 6 years is a long time. You must have a lot of anniversaries. What do you do for them?

“Nothing special, we just get presents for each other and spend the day together. I used to just tell him what I wanted but he can figure out what I want now.”

“That shows what an amazing and observant boyf—I mean fiancé I am! Have you ever been disappointed with anything I gave you?”

“Well, no, not yet.”

“See? And you get me all the things I want and need. We’re a perfect couple.”

“We sometimes go on trips to neighbouring countries, visit some tourist spots. I bought him a camera for the anniversary last year, and now he takes tons of photos everywhere we go. There’s a huge stack of polaroids in our bedroom.”

“[Name]-chan, don’t ignore me! Aren’t we a perfect couple?”

“I think we’re the best we can be. Perfection doesn’t exist, but we can strive to be the best we can be, right Tooru?”

“Yup! You’re so wise when it comes to things like this.”

Q. What do you do in your spare time?

“We recently started watching TV shows like Umbrella Academy and Doctor Who. Tooru likes them because of all the aliens and superpowers.”

“They’re all so creative! Like the Weeping Angel, that makes me freak out whenever I see a statue now. Some of them give me nightmares.”

“Weeping Angels are messed up. Wait, why do you watch it if it gives you nightmares? You need to take care of your mental state as well, national representative!”

“But you hug me when I sleep if I have night terrors! I would sit through a hundred horror movies if it means you would hug me.”

“…”

“Are you… blushing?”

“No.”

“Aw, [Name]-chan, you’re blushing! I love you so much!”

“Tooru, stop! I’m going to fa—”

*Technical difficulties please hold*

Q. You recently announced your engagement, congratulations! How was the proposal, if you don’t mind me asking?

“I took her to her favourite restaurant! It’s this fancy place in a building near the training centre and she loves the pizza there.”

“It is delicious. He can’t see how good it is, this uncultured child.”

“It’s not my type! I like other pizzas, just not that one. Her face absolutely glows with happiness when she takes a bite but I can’t understand it. They have those really salty fish—”

“Anchovy. And I usually don’t like it either, but they make it taste amazing!”

“No, it still tastes like clumps of salt. Thankfully I like other dishes on the menu. We go there so often that the owner has a special spot reserved for us. It’s by a window and since the restaurant is in a tall building, it looks over the lights of the city. It’s very beautiful.”

“He was looking skittish than usual, so I was worried for him. I actually thought he wanted to break up with me. But instead, he showed me the ring and asked me to marry him.”

“Why would I ever break up with you?”

“Couples split apart! It’s what happens to a lot of them, I have never heard of someone who lived forever with only one person.”

“Tobio-chan did!”

“Are we considering volleyball as a person now?”

“[Name]-chan, we went to their wedding!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just kidding! He was pretty cute, all twitchy and red. His wife was even cuter though, so shy and embarrassed. Very beautiful as well.”

“You’re going to be even more radiant at our wedding. I can see you in your dress already.”

“Wow, you must be able to see into the future, since I haven’t even looked at the catalogue.”

“It’s a figure of speech!”

Now, now, please calm down! Onto the next question.

Q. You guys had been dating for quite a while before getting engaged. When did you realise you wanted to spend the rest of your life with each other?

“Oh, you never actually told me this.”

“It was actually when I was away for a game! [Name]-chan couldn’t come because she had to work back in Argentina, so I was all alone in a foreign country.”

“Literally everyone else on the team came to the game, you weren’t alone.”

“But none of them were you! Let me be romantic and tell my love story!”

“Alright, alright, no more interruptions. Proceed.”

“Thank you. It was the first day there. I finished the practice for the day and did our daily night call, because we always talk before falling asleep. I dozed off to her talking, so I thought she would be there when I woke up. But when I opened my eyes in the morning, and she wasn’t there, this wave of panic came over me until I realised I was overseas. “That moment was probably it. I thought there, lying on the bed, that I would never be happy unless I wake up next to her every morning and see her sleeping face. Unless I could start off my day by kissing her and holding her in my arms.”

“…That— that’s what you thought when you woke up?”

“Yeah? And I thought that every morning since the— wait, are you blushing?”

“No, shut up and go away, Tooru.”

“AWWWW [NAME]-CHAN IS BLUSHING AND TRYING TO HIDE FROM ME!! YOU’RE SO CUTE AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I WANT TO SQUISH YOUR WIDDLE FACE AND CUDDLE YOU FOREVER MY AMAZING AND PRECIOUS WIFE!”

“Ack, Tooru, I’m going to fall agai—”

*Another technical difficulty, please hold*

Well, I think this has been a very cute and informative session. Quite eventful as well.

“If by eventful, you mean him trying to hug me so tight my ribs break and I get concussions from falling all the time, then yes, eventful.”

“Sorry, [Name]-chan, you were just too cute!”

“Not another word, volleyboy.”

Well, I’m sure your fans will be thrilled to see how cute the two of you are!

“His fans do seem to like knowing little stupid stories we have.”

“They’re our memories and I wouldn’t ever trade them for anything else.”

“…Me neither.”

“Aw, you’re so affectionate today, [Name]-chan. Maybe we should come again next time so I can see you blushing even more!”

We are completely on board with tha—

“Okay, this is the end of our interview and I hope it was fun for the viewers! Bye-bye now!”

“Ah, she’s escaping! Wait for me, [Name]-chan! Thanks for watching! Bye!”

#oikawa x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#oikawa #oikawa tooru #fluff #female reader

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago

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𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

full masterlist - fic masterlist

The day after the dinner party in the late afternoon, Celaena was whiling her time away by flipping through the pages of the latest monthly issue of the fashion magazine La Belle Assemblée when she recieved a note of invitation from Lady Towper, one of her recent acquaintances, to a walk in Hyde Park later that afternoon with her and Mrs Burnwell, another society lady Celaena had befriended. The wording made it quite clear it was more a summons than an invitation and having spent the morning by herself, Celaena was eager enough for company that she happily put down her magazine and called for her pelisse and outerwear with alacrity. Twenty minutes later she was roaming around the park when Lady Towper spotted her, gliding across the path—there really was no other way to describe her graceful movement—with an elegant swish of her skirts and a look of exaggerated distress on her countenance, followed by Mrs Burnwell who looked rather piqued. "Dear Miss Sardothein," cried the former, looping an arm around hers. "How glad I was to hear you accepted my invitation. I wanted to take a walk around the park, refresh myself and Mrs Burnwell recalled you were rather fond of exercise and suggested we take you along with us."

Celaena rather thought that on a fine weather such as this, the ladies' primary motive for a walk was perhaps to see and be seen by the upper ten-thousands of the ton, most of which had returned from their summer estates for the social season which was to start soon but said instead, "I am grateful for the invitation. Your Ladyship has quite rescued me from certain death at the hands of boredom."

The ladies tittered politely, protesting that it was no great sacrifice on their part and the trio walked along the paths making light conversation until Mrs Burnwell jerked to a halt with a pinched expression. "Mrs Whitethorn."

Though Celaena had only met the lady once, she had been left unimpressed and could not fault Mrs Burnwell for looking piqued.

Mrs Whitethorn did not improve on a second meeting - not that Celaena had had any expectations that she would - and participated as much in the conversation with as much fervor as a lifeless statue, making occasional noises of agreement and dissent. Celaena who prided herself on being able to draw someone out of their reserve met with failure at every turn and it was not long before the ladies ran out of polite remarks to exchange and their party took their leave. Celaena spotted a group of children from her neighborhood racing each other in a less scenic path around the park and soon abandoned all sorts of decorum to join in on the shouting.

"FASTER, TOM! FASTER, YES, A LITTLE FASTER!" cheered Celaena, bouncing up and down in excitement.

Her cheeks were flushed with exertion and her petticoats muddier than usual. She let out a high-pitched noise when little Thomas reached the finishing line and beamed. "I did it, I did it, I said I would, did I not? Oh, Cece, did you see me? I won!"

"You did very well, dear," said she, kissing his cheek. The smug look he sent his siblings' way had her struggling not to laugh.

"Yes, you won this time—" said his eldest brother in an arrogant tone, "—but I shall be the winner next time. Shall we play something else now?"

"Hide and seek!"

"Hopscotch."

"No! We must play cops and robbers today. You promised!"

"I want to play tag."

"We don't," said the twins simultaneously.

"Then blind man's buff?"

"I suppose we could—"

"Oh, no, I will not play that ever again."

Celaena smiled, watching the children argue over what they wished to do and looked at two children - presumably brothers - finely dressed and staring at the brood of children she was so fond of wistfully. "Here, you two, why don't you play?" asked she.

The younger boy beamed at the prospect but the elder looked uncertain.

He glanced over his shoulder anxiously biting his lip. "Oh, no, mama will be furious if we get our clothes dirty." But he looked at the noisy little children with such longing and he looked so serious in general with those deep blue eyes filled with sorrow and the brows that remained creased as if by default—more serious than a nine-year-old should be; he held himself with a ridiculous amount of poise, posture stiff and yet looked unsure of every little movement or sound he made, Celaena had a whimsical desire to have him enjoy himself.

"I shall tell you a secret," she gave him a conspiratorial wink. "It is healthy to disobey your parents once in a while."

The poor boy looked scandalized at the thought of disobeying anyone. When had he last had some fun? she wondered.

He looked at the boys again, then at his boots, properly polished and finely made, then straightened as if he had come to a decision. "I-I thank you, miss, but my brother and I shall take your leave now." The formal tone so became him, she was struck by the intelligence in his expression and the confidence of his words despite the apprehension evident in his posture. He continued in a softer tone, "Mama says it is not proper to talk to anyone without being introduced."

"Then perhaps we might perform the service ourselves since no one else can? I am Miss Celaena Sardothein of Raven Hall in Derbyshire." She curtsied formally, suppressing a smile.

"Oh." He looked down at his feet.

Celaena took pity on him and smiled. "It's alright, I shan't force you into anything. You are a good boy, dear, to obey your parents so." He looked so surprised, and blushed all kinds of red, though his chest did puff out a little. When had someone last praised him? Knowing there was no more she could do, Celaena was about to bid the child a farewell when a familiar figure rounded the corner.

"Papa!" cried the little boy, latching onto his father's leg.

Mr Whitethorn patted his head and gently freed himself to step forward. "Stephen, what have I told you about talking to—Miss Sardothein!" He jerked to a stop, then recalling himself, bowed to her. "I cannot say how surprised I am to see you."

"Are you really, sir?" asked she. "You know me to be unconventional. This is exactly the kind of place you should expect to find me in." She nodded towards the elder boy who looked vastly relieved to have someone else do the talking on his behalf and the younger who clung to his father for attention, bouncing on his toes. "These fine young gentlemen are your sons?"

He confirmed that they were.

"Perhaps you and your sons could join us for a while?" Both boys looked excited for such a prospect though one was more successful at hiding it than the other.

"Please papa?" asked the five-year-old.

Mr Whitethorn rolled his eyes fondly. "After recieving that look, I should not dare refuse."

The child hugged his father tightly, then ran towards the group of boys. They accepted him immediately, having settled on the blind man's bluff finally and noisily took up positions, directing and misdirecting the child with the blindfold.

His elder brother looked lost standing by the side. He looked down at his hands. "...And he has run off already."

"Why don't you join him?" she nudged gently. I know they will be happy to include you."

Stephen swallowed, looking at his father who had a neutral face on and turned to her. "I thank you, but no—" then at her stern look, he admitted, "I, I won't know what to say to them."

"Just say you want to play."

"But surely, I don't, oh, I am fine here."

Celaena signalled for him to offer her an arm and escort her there. When he refused, she said, "You know it is not gentlemanly to refuse to escort a lady somewhere, do you not?"

Stephen huffed but gave in.

Shs clapped to get everyone's attention. "This is Master Stephen Whitethorn and that—" she nodded towards the younger, "—is his younger brother, Master..."

"Charles," the boy happily supplied.

"Right. Master Charles Whitethorn." The boy grinned toothily. "Be nice to them."

Stephen blushed at the attention, standing stiffly as one by one the boys spoke their names. He half expected them to call him names like wuss or a dreadful bore like his cousins and friends always did but no one did. In fact, as long as he played well, no one cared how loud he shrieked or how often he stumbled on the tree roots or how dirty he had gotten. As every minute passed, he relaxed some more until he was laughing and jumping along with the others with no care for his clothes or boots which were already ruined. Mama would have his head if she found out, yes, and she would scold him until his ears bled but was not all this fun worth it? How often did he have such a chance? He looked back at the spot where his father stood beside the woman—Miss Sardothein—and noticed she was watching him. He rolled his eyes when she mouthed 'you are welcome' but could not help the smile that followed after.

"Poor boy," Celaena sighed to herself. "He is too shy, and he feels inferior to his brother."

Mr Whitethorn said, "He is wise beyond his years. I do not know what to do with him sometimes." He looked down at his feet, a gesture she recognised as evident in his eldest son. "You sound like one talking with experience but I cannot imagine you being shy at all." The concern expressed on his face touched her deeply and she had the strangest urge to smooth the wrinkles away from his forehead.

"I should imagine not." She chuckled. "Eleanor, my adoptive sister is very shy—not like your son, mind—but I have seen firsthand her longing to join in on the fun and her hesitance to act on it."

They watched the children play and he chuckled. "Their mother will have a fit if she finds them so muddied."

"Their mother," said Celaena, barely restraining herself from snorting. "I do not think your wife likes me, sir."

"I think that is a point in your favor, Miss Sardothein," he replied dryly, though his lips twitched. Had she paid more attention to her dance partners the evening of the Thorpe's ball or less occupied with Lord Fenrys' veiled hints, trying to figure out the meaning behind his pointed commentary and the suspicious dinner invitation she had accepted out of curiosity, she would not have been surprised by how handsome he looked. But indeed, occupied as she had been on the previous occassions, it was not until he smiled a little that she was taken completely by how well the expression of fondness became him, how his features so perfectly formed, looked more beautiful and pleasing than ever. She gasped at how beautifully his green eyes sparkled when he stood just so, with the sunlight shining in them and how gracefully he carried himself with a hint of pride that was not unbecoming on his noble mein. If at that moment he had told her he was a prince from the fairytales, she would have easily believed him.

"Are you well, Miss Sardothein?"

Celaena flushed bright red with mortification. "Oh, yes," she breathed out. She spent the better part of their afternoon walk attempting to squash the flutter in stomach by conjuring a confused, miserable Mrs Whitethorn waiting for her husband to return home. The trick did not work as well as she had hoped and when the sun started its descent, she was grateful to be able to part with some measure of equinanimity.

"You met who at a dinner party?" asked Lord Rhoe incredulously for the fifth time.

"Aelin." Seated across from his father in his private study and being the current object of the Earl's ire, James felt like the nine-year-old recieving a lecture from his father over one mischief or another when Rhoe could be bothered enough to care about something more than his next meal or the port supply. He had retreated into his own world soon after they lost his little sister and neither brother was inclined to give him more courtesy or respect than what was his due as a father. James felt he would have been perfectly justified in not informing his father of this discovery but he felt an uncharacteristic anxiety about her visit and was not inclined to risk her running into his ignorant father who would easily recognise her from afar. "Aelin was at the Thorpe's ball, the one my cousin and I attended recently, though we were not introduced. Fenrys ran into her at a nearby bookstore the other day and recognised her. Though I was initially sceptical and asked my solicitor to launch several inquiries into the girl in question and her family, Fenrys convinced me to meet her once and I—" there were hardly enough words to explain himself on this and James fell silent.

Lord Rhoe looked his disbelief.

"I know you do not wish for false hopes, sir, but I would not have come if I was not sure."

"I grieve her still," said Rhoe at last in a tone of gruff affection, "—and I know how it feels to latch onto hope but it is insanity to claim this-this madness—"

"It is not madness."

"You are letting your sentiments rule over reason. Aelin is dead, boy," said he, "and you had better drop this."

James was in no mood to drop it but Rhoe was overcome by a fit of coughs and slumped into his armchair. James rushed to his father, not sure what he would do but there was something so wrong about seeing his ever stoic, ever impassive father reduced to a fit of helplessness - no matter how small - like a common fragile old man that disturbed him greatly. James rubbed his father's back and called for a maid.

Rhoe tried to speak but a hoarse whisper was all that came out.

A maid stood at the doorway while the other rushed inside, fetching a glass of water from the pitcher. Rhoe drank it slowly, allowing the coughs to slowly fade.

"Aelin died," he choked out.

"You don't know that," reminded James gently. He was hesitant to press more but James wanted to clear this first hurdle before she arrived.

"I saw—I saw her body." Rhoe closed his eyes shut as if he was trying to block out a vision. "There was a body. Her body."

"Aelin disappeared," corrected James. "You found a body and identified it as hers but what if-what if it wasn't?"

"The magistrate found her anklet near the body. It was her. I saw the anklet."

James snapped his mouth shut. He had been nine when his sister disappeared and what little he knew about it was pieced together from eavesdropped bits of conversations and accidental slips from his uncle and aunt between the years. The Earl of Narrowcreek all but banned talk about Aelin in his home and neither son mentioned her for fear of his temper until memories of childhood acquired a dreamlike quality in his mind.

"The other anklet?"

"They never found it," said Rhoe.

James tried to consider his words carefully but . "I am aware my story sound like wishful thinking but I have—sir, I would not have believed my cousin if I had not seen her. She looks like my sister but more than that, she is-she is what I always thought Aelin would grow up to be: witty, charming and-and so wickedly clever." His words were more passionate than rationally thought out now but his father looked unaffected. James blew out a breath. "I invited her here for dinner, father. I wish to make Miss Sardothein aware of my-my suspicions. Despite what you say, something tells me I am right. I know I am. If you change your mind by dinner, you are welcome to join us tonight."

He thought his words might cause his father to at least promise to come; instead Rhoe latched onto another part of his sentence. "Miss Celaena Sardothein?!"

"The very one."

"You cannot mean to invite a tradesman's daughter into my house!"

"She is your daughter, sir!" said James sharply, feeling himself losing his control. "I mean to tell her of her identity today and you will not dissuade me from it." So saying, he quit the study door and left, suddenly quite anxious for the upcoming visit.

Celaena felt strangely off-kilter looking at a house that was as familiar as it was strange as she was handed down the carriage by a footman. Her nerves hightened for some unfathomable reason and in an attempt to distract herself by looking around the foyer of the Galathynius Townhouse, which was very grand. In the pride of the place stood an elegant water fountain, around which she could imagine a noisy brood of children splashing in and out. The elegant structure captured her interest until she stepped inside, feeling a vague sense of deja vu though she could swear she had never seen such a fine house before in her life—surely she would remember it if she had? It was not a forgettable sight—she pushed her unease aside, squared her shoulders and allowed the butler to divest her of her cloak and gloves while a maid waited to escort her to drawing room. The old servant started at the sight of her before he hid his surprise with an impassive expression like a well-trained servant, efficiently performing his duties, though she did not miss the way his eyes flicked back to her face repeatedly. Having never been invited to a private dinner before, Celaena had no expectations from the evening but was nevertheless surprised to be ushered into a private study instead of the drawing room.

A man sat in his armchair in a posture more befitting a young gentleman than an old, wealthy peer, though the grey hair at the edges of his temples belied his age.

"Miss Sardothein," said he.

Lord Rhoe noticed her surprise at being addressed by her name and smiled strangely. "Your reputation precedes you, dear. You have the whole town in a tizzy and you have in twenty four hours coerced my son into issuing a dinner invitation that is quite improper; an unmarried lady dining with two bachelors? Huge scandals have been created on far less."

"Then I wonder at your son's reasoning, for he issued the invitation. I only accepted it."

The Earl shook his head. "I know his reasons but I wonder at yours."

"I was curious."

He raised an eyebrow but she did not offer more explanation than that. "By accepting his invitation, you are putting your reputation in jeopardy, and with it, my son's."

She dimpled. "I might argue he did that himself when he issued it."

"I told you—"

"No, I told you," said she, rising from her seat, "—I am here on invitation. If you wish me gone from your home, ask and I will. But I will not accept an interrogation."

"I demand respect, Miss Sardothein."

"I shall never give it for that reason alone. I could not respect you if I wanted, sir," said she defiantly, rising from her seat, "for you were decided against me before I even entered your house—you who valued the gossip's opinions, or was your prejudice because of the grave sin I committed in being raised by a tradesman?" Her eyes flashed with ire and her breaths came faster. The Earl noticed none of it, struck as he was by the image of another adolescent ages ago shouting at his own father in the very same place. Miss Sardothein was a little older, perhaps and her features were not as delicate and soft but there was no mistaking her. He had crossed swords with his wife's younger sister to recognise her ashryver eyes and the colouring—

"Evalin," he whispered.

Bloody Hell.

Celaena's eyebrows creased when the older man looked at her in shock, then collapsed into the armchair he had been occupying.

"Uncle Rhoe? I heard raised voices—good gods, Aelin! Whatever happened here?"

If either of them noticed what name Lord Fenrys had unintentionally called her and to which she had answered, neither gave any indication. "He was telling me I should not have come and I was-I was defending myself but then he was, he was shocked at something and he said a name—Evelyn or something similar. Then he just collapsed into the chair." Lord Fenrys quickly and efficiently took charge of the situation, pouring her some wine for some semblance of calm, sending for his cousin and a footman to escort His Lordship back to his chambers. Lord Fenrys and his cousin had apparently been waiting for her in the drawing room downstairs and were not aware of her arrival. He had come to fetch a book from the adjoining library to pass his time when he heard raised voices. This assured her to some degree that she was not unwanted in the house, however as it belonged to the master whom she had quite shocked into fainting with her poor manners, she was not sure how much longer she would be welcome and expressed her desire to leave.

Lord Fenrys said immediately, "Leave? Goodness—no, my cousin will be quite cross with me if I let you leave before he comes. Do feel free to look around."

She did look around, taking in the elegant but never ostentatious furniture and the wall patterns which, though pretty, looked rather outdated. The study was well-lit with wax candles but looked cozier than she would expect an Earl's private sanctuary to look like. Her attention was caught soon by a bookcase by the farthest wall—presumably his favourites—and was surprised she shared similar tastes in reading with a man who had in a few minutes embodied all the worst qualities of the aristocracy. She moved past that wall only to come face-to-face with an unexpected portrait. It's objects—a husband, wife and their three children—sat in a formal pose but the picture radiated contentment, happiness and affection. It was perhaps something in the way the refined, elegant woman stared adoringly up at her husband or the look of affection he in turn bestowed on his two sons and a daughter who looked by turns bemused, bored and awfully wicked.

Her stomach twisted uneasily looking at the eldest son. "That. Who is that?"

"Edward," answered he. "Viscount Layton is not much fond of society. By the way his expression darkened, she surmised there must be some rift in the family—

Edward.

Edward Galathynius.

Celaena felt her own disquiet increase. Where had she heard the name before?

She glanced quickly at her host's cousin who was rifling through the drawers and examined the painting more closely. The children and the woman looked a great deal similar in colouring and in their eyes which were turquoise—

Turquoise eyes ringed with gold.

"Miss Sardothein?" Fenrys asked.

"Yes, yes, forgive me, Lord Fenrys. I feel a little, a little warm. He, your cousin—cousins, that is," she corrected herself, "they have—their eyes are a very unusual colour," she lamely finished.

"The ashryver eyes, yes." His tone was flippant, as though he had not seen her eyes. "As rare as they are beautiful, won't you say?"

Her stomach plummeted. She wanted to go somewhere—anywhere else.

Celaena tried to leave the room, her skin feeling too hot. Her knees buckled.

"Aelin!" Mr Galathynius stood in the doorway with his eyes wide.

Aelin.

She tried to ignore the implications of all that being called that name entailed.

Mr Galathynius gently led her to a seat away from the fireplace. Her head spun and her palms felt sweaty. "Home," she croaked out, unable to make out her own words. "I want home." Her skin flushed even more, her palms grew sweaty and her clothes felt coarse against her body.

Ashryver eyes.

The fairest eyes, from legends old

Of brightest blue, ringed with gold

She shut her eyes closed, willing her hands to stop shaking. It didn't work. How did she know that? She couldn't have known that. She had never met these people before, had never seen this place.

She had not.

She could not have.

Aelin was my favourite cousin—you, uh, you remind me of her.

Aelin.

But how could it be?

Aelin died in a fire thirteen years ago, Fenrys had told her. When she was but five.

Arobynn brought her home and introduced her as an orphan the same year, the year she had turned six. Arobynn had found her as an orphan roaming the streets of London when she was five.

The dates matched.

The fire. A warehouse. Two men. A pistol. She tried to remember but came up short.

"Aelin," a voice gently called out.

"You are wrong," she insisted vehemently, "I am not, I am not your sister!" Her voice turned screeching. "I was—my family gave me up, they didn't want me. Arobynn saved me. He told me they didn't want me, he told me so himself."

Arobynn lies to everyone.

But he had never lied to her. To her, he had been honest as he should.

He would not.

"Shh, It's alright, Aelin." James scooted closer and talked in a gentle tone, wishing his elder brother was present to comfort her. Edward would have known how to calm her.

Edward always had.

"Don't call me that." She shook her head tearfully. "I am not Aelin. I am not."

James placed an arm on her shoulder cautiously. The gentle touch, the compassionate voice and the genuine concern almost undid her. "Aelin," said her brother—her brother, she thought with amazement that the words did not sound as strange as they should have—"I am sorry you found out this way. Indeed, there are a great many things we are not sure of but—but my father's reaction and your own confirms what I suspected."

"You told me she died." The words came out almost as an accusation.

"It is all speculation on my part, mind, but we were informed my sister died in a fire in a nearby warehouse. The owner was a rather genial fellow and my sister—you—were friends with the man's clerk. You were playing with Edward that day—that is our elder brother—and you broke your ankle. He went to fetch help from the manor house but by the time father was able to come, you were not there. The search parties could find no signs of you until the magistrate informed her of two bodies found in a nearby warehouse. The first a child, had near her an anklet we knew you wore that day and father thought—we all thought it was you. I do not know where you did go and how the anklet appeared there but—"

She frowned. "You think Arobynn abducted me for some nefarious purposes."

"Indeed not—"

"You do," she accused, looking away from the hurt in his ashryver eyes. "You think—you think he did that. But he did not. He would not do that to me."

"Aelin, I never—"

"He wouldn't!" Celaena sobbed hysterically. "And even if you do not, everyone else will. No one will believe this—this story of ours—your father, oh god, he doubted it! He thought me a fortune hunter and—and everyone will—"

"Father did not wish to hope only to be met with disappointment, dearest."

"I all but told my father to go to the devil," she said between sobs.

"And it is a darned good thing you did," said Lord Fenrys in a flippant tone. "Someone needed to take that old man down a few notches. Besides, I suspect when he wakes up, he will have his fair share of apologising to do."

Mr Galathynius hesitantly placed an arm around his sister's shoulder as though he expected her to pull away and run. But she was too exhausted to protest and too grateful to have something solid to hold onto while the earth shifted beneath her feet. Aelin buried her face in his chest, clutching at the lapels of his coat and James felt a tender affection towards this creature who was clever and witty in ballrooms, whose ire faded as easily as it was stoked and who went from one emotion to another to another in a few moments. If in that moment someone had told him he needed to fell a dragon in order to protect her, he would have happily taken the beast on with his sword. James had been too young to do anything but squabble with his little sister but he felt all the protective instincts of an elder brother now and the first stirrings of hope that his family might not be doomed to unhappiness forever after all.

Aelin pulled back and sniffed. "I am sorry, Mr Galathynius, I suppose—"

"It would please me greatly if you would call me by my first name, dearest." James wished again he had his brother with him. "I do not think father will be angry and even if he is, I hope you will not mind him too much. I sent an express to Edward the moment we returned from the dinner party. He will be here soon and he will be ecstatic. I know I am."

"I don't remember anything."

He shrugged helplessly. "It is to be expected, Aelin. You were only five."

"But Arobynn told me I was given away by my family to, to an orphanage. He found me on the streets."

Mr Galathy—James looked at her seriously, clutching her hands in his. "I don't know if he lied or not, Aelin, but know this: your family did not give you away—indeed, we have been miserable since you left us." He bit his lip, swallowed and asked, "Do you remember even a little bit of that day? You and Edward were playing outside, you broke your ankle and he came back to the house to fetch help. He was—"

"He told me to stay there," she whispered, tears rolling down her face. "I didn't."

"You were but five," said Fenrys in an attempt to soothe. "You could hardly be expected to listen to anyone." The siblings started in surprise, having forgotten his presence.

"Do you remember what happened after our brother left?" James prodded gently.

Celaena shook her head, eyes shut. She tried to remember the day on the field near the estate. A mud puddle. A fallen ribbon. Her anklet's weak clasp. Why are you alone here? A voice.

It was a man's voice.

He had promised to take her back. I will carry you home, come with me. Into the carriage, there. She had climbed into the carriage. Perhaps she knew the man? Surely she would not have climbed into a stranger's carriage?

You were but five.

She tried hard to concentrate but could not remember anything beyond that and she told her brother so.

"You need not force yourself to, but if you do remember anything more—"

"I will tell you," she agreed. "I always wanted an elder brother, you know?"

James Galathynius was an affectionate man and he itched to embrace his sister tightly, but restrained in fear of overdoing things. The last shreds of his reserve melted with her words and he pulled her close. His little sister. He wondered if there were sweeter words in the world. "I missed you so," he answered tearfully, "So did we all. Edward refused to look at pianofortes for months, they reminded him of you, he hardly ever comes to town and father so retreated into his study and there I was—Oh, Aelin, please don't leave again."

"I shan't," she promised.

"A gentleman's word?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I am a lady."

"It's the only kind of promise you didn't break when we were children. A gentleman's word?" She heard her own voice ask the question long ago. A vague memory.

Celaena smiled. "A gentleman's word."

Fenrys broke the moment, his eyes glimmering suspiciously. He sniffed. "Stop monopolizing her, cousin."

Celaena hesitantly rose from her seat, pressing a kiss against her cousin's cheek. "I know it's all a muddle still but thank you for finding me, Lord Fenrys." She smiled sweetly at him. "You told me Aelin was—that I was—your favourite cousin, did you not, Lord Fenrys?"

"You were—you are." He grinned. "Do stop with the lord business though—I am already determined we shall be the dearest of friends. We have always been alike in our dispositions."

"What he means," James grinned back, "is the both of you have always been utter rascals, making all our lives difficult."

"I don't know what you are talking about," huffed she with feigned indignation in her voice. "I am positively an angel."

"Oh, hardly!" Fenrys shook his head. "I never saw a more mischevious child. Aunt Meave swore you were the devil's spawn."

"Oh no," she said.

"Oh, yes." James grinned at a fond memory. "And I cannot blame her. You once sneaked a frog to her dinner table. It ended up in her plate somehow; it was horrific."

"Indeed, you scarred the poor woman," Fenrys quipped. "She specifically invites only adults ever since. James told us later how you twitched and groaned, shifting in your seat, trying to hide it in the folds of your dress."

Celaena narrowed her eyes. "If you knew, why did you not help?"

"I did not want to incur her wrath," he said. "Our father or brother would have protected you from her. I was on my own."

The remark brought her back to reality. "Father—Lord Rhoe—my goodness, I implied he was proud and arrogant and—and he fainted!" James hurried to assure her that he fainted occassionally and a physician had been sent for in any case and she should not worry overmuch about that but she could not help herself. However, not wanting to worry him more—the poor man was acting so casually as if expecting another fit of hysterics—she changed the subject to one she was curious about. "And Edward—you said he has been informed."

"If I know him at all, he will come running." Then, with due caution, "I know you don't remember a thing but Edward and you were particularly close—you filled buckets worth of tears when he left for Eton, you know? And when he came to visit for the summer or holidays and you were obliged to return to the nursery in the evenings, you threw such a royal fit until father allowed you to spend the nights in his room." By the tone with which he said it, Celaena rather thought it cost him something to admit this to her and she thought she heard a touch of envy in those words.

"It was perhaps not proper," agreed Fenrys, "but you would not eat or drink and he was forced to acquiese."

Celaena laughed. "That does sound like me." Then, sobering, "I should not—it's too late, I think I should return home."

"Home?"

Celaena amended with a smile, "Well, not my home, then. But I could not move here today, not with Lord Rhoe so—"

"Father will not object," said he, with conviction. "This is your home as much as it is mine or his. I am sure Edward will be furious with me if I let you leave." Then, noticing her reluctance, he gently smiled. "I understand you will need to get used to reality and I really would like it if you stayed but if you cannot—"

"Oh, no," said she, interrupting him. "I will—I will stay if you send a note to the Rhunns informing them where I am and if my maid and a few of my clothes can be brought—Elide, my maid, she will know what to bring—then I shall stay."

This was agreed to with alacrity and orders sent to prepare one of the finest guest rooms for temporary occupation. James noticed her pale countenance and offered to send a dinner tray to her rooms in a half hour if she would like to retire early. After they were informed that Lord Rhoe had been given laudanum to calm himself and would see them in the morning, there was nothing left for her to do and she accepted her brother's offer happily. Celaena thought she would not be able to sleep for hours, ruminating on the eventful day but the overwhelming emotions of the overdeal caught up with her and she was asleep before dinner arrived.

tags:

@thesirenwashere // @courtofjurdan //@little-crow-corvere // @the-dark-swan // @queenofgreenbriar // @clockworkgraystairs // @julemmaes // @rowaelinforeverworld // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @towhateverend17 // @aelinchocolatelover // @justabunchoffandoms // @cool-ish-nerd // @faerie-queen-fireheart // @sad-book-whore // @didsomeonesayviolin // @atozfantazyxx // @hizqueen4life // @the-gods-killer // @booknerdproblems // @annejulianneh111 // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @curlyredqueen06 // @moondancer-204 // @thesurielships // @witchling-leonor // @ladywitchling // @amren-courtofdreams // @ifinallygavein // @jlinez // @faequeenaelin // @df3ndyr // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @bitchy-knees // @superspiritfestival // @xx-fiona-xx // @stardelia // @maastrash // @miihlovesnoone // @totenhamboys20 // @sanakapoor // @louisleblancdiggory

#throne of glass #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #sarah j maas #aelin ashryver #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #valiant #aelin-queen-of-terrasen

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romanceimp · 3 years ago

Text

The Canary Pt. 2 Todoroki x F!

hi, this is pt 2 of my Shouto Todoroki x musician!reader where its a hot mess bc its kinda a love triangle with Enji????

Listen if ya missed pt 1... its here

TW: anything on my page is 18+, fuck outta here children and get some juice... manipulative relationships, messy love situation/ love triangle, hints at abusive relationship (between reader and her ex), her ex is also a drug addict... and a criminal... if you're wondering why this is such a messy fic its inspired by my watching the show euphoria...

and lemme address this: i know enji got a redemption arc but i wanted to write him with a similar vibe to nates dad from euphoria... to explore the manipulative sides of age gap relationships or relationships with clearly unbalanced power dynamics, my portrayal of him here is not what i would deem perfectly canon but more a vessel for the plot and ideas i want to explore with this piece and the complexities within it, now... that being said... i give you a long awaited pt 2 to The Canary

You watch as Shouto opens the front door and slips away into the night. The door closes and upon hearing the latch click you realize you’d been holding your breath. You exhale long and slow, still stunned by Shouto’s vulnerability. He worries he will never be able to save himself. Yes, you very much relate to that problem. There is something about Shouto that scares you, looking at him in person, it feels like he is someone you’d known forever, that you should have memories of him but the place in your mind that they should be, is blank.

How he feels about you is still incredibly unclear. You had been very aware of how carefully he watched you during your meal, his eyes seemingly tracking each of your movements and committing them to memory. Dinner was uncomfortable, you had wanted to hide and simultaneously prove yourself to him; that you were different from his idea of who you must be considering the circumstances. You knew what he thought; that you were just some shallow girl dating his dad for the money. But that wasn’t the truth.

Maybe someday you and Shouto would learn the truth of who the other was, your pasts, desires for the future, and maybe what that feeling was that made him seem so familiar. You could easily picture yourself trying to make him laugh on a warm spring day and you smile to yourself.

“Well I’m glad to see you smiling,” Enji remarks as he sits next to you on the couch. “Shouto can be a bit harsh, I apologize…” Enji murmurs and wraps his arm around you, a protective and comforting gesture. “No, it’s okay, it’s only natural for him to feel suspicious or confused,” you console. You pull your legs onto the couch and snuggle into the cushions.“I’ll talk to him about it,” he offers but you shake your head. “No, it’s really okay, I think he’s warming up to me.” Enji raises an eyebrow at you and smiles slightly. “Shouto doesn’t warm up to others easily… or at all,” he dismisses and kisses your cheek. You look up at him and blink. “I’m not worried ‘bout it… best to just give it time,” you smile. Enji gives you a single nod before his expression falls stern. “As much as I enjoy your optimism, we need to discuss Friday, I won’t be able to go and I don’t want you going alone.” You inhale slowly and hold your breath until you can figure out the words exactly.

“Enji, I told you, I can take care of myself for a night, I don't need you to watch over me every time I do a gig.” His gaze bores into yours, eyes piercing. “And I’ve asked you nicely not to play this weekend, you’re sophisticated now, a place like the Viper Lounge should be considered beneath you.” You move away from his touch, crossing your arms. While Enji is more supportive than anyone else about your music career, he still didn’t understand. He had been a hero, a place like The Viper is considered scummy in his circle but for you it’s the holy grail of performance venues. You explain time and time again and the words are becoming dull and grey with repetition. “It’s one of the best places for someone who’s looking to get scouted to perform… and the Viper invited me, that's a big deal.” Enji shifts to face you, “I know this feels big to you but it’s just a small set in a shitty dive.”

A part of you wanted to cry hearing those words, but the tears didn’t come. Just a small, sad smile. “There’s going to be talent scouts and agents there… just to see who was selected for the line up and I’m the closing set… It's a pretty big deal.”

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Shouto walks from the house, his head filled with thoughts of you. Your smile, your voice, that ridiculous yellow guitar. Your eyes, their inquisitive nature. He thinks back to his answer to your question, “I'm afraid that no matter how many people I save, that I’ll never be able to save myself.” He sighs, he can’t remember the last time he could be so honest with someone, let alone someone who was practically a stranger… But there is something about you that seems oddly familiar, though for what reason he felt this way was unclear.

He is about halfway to his car when he feels how light his pants pocket is. His phone… he must have left it inside somewhere, maybe the kitchen? He sighs, he doesn’t want to return to the house, to have to look at you again after being so honest. He had been bold in hopes of- well he isn’t all that sure why he had said something like that so openly, all he knows is the heat is creeping to his cheeks. He takes a breath before hesitantly opening the door. He collects himself, hoping you wont be able to see his embarrassment.

“I told you, there will be plenty more opportunities and you won't have to perform in such a dump,” he hears his fathers voice. He knows that voice… Shouto opens his mouth to call out but shuts it again hearing your icy tone, “you’re not listening... Enji.” Shouto’s eyebrows raise in surprise, you’re not as childish as he first thought. In fact, it seems you’re holding your own against his father in an argument of sorts. He hears Enji laugh mockingly, “I’m not listening? What about Kai?” There’s a long pause, the sound of cicadas filling Shouto’s ears while the name Kai tumbles around his mind. He knew that name from somewhere. “What about Kai?” your voice is so low he can barely hear it. “Is he going to be there?” Enji pushes. Your voice raises slightly in aggravation, “I don't know, I don't talk to Kai, I haven’t said a word to him since the day I left.” Enji scoffs, “Really? It’s suspicious that the Viper Lounge invites you to perform when you’re almost a year out of that scene, he has connections there, what if he’s just using this “gig” as an excuse to get close to you? C’mon y/n, use your head.” Enji’s tone is viciously condescending. Shouto clenches his jaw, waiting for your reply. “I’ve thought about that possibility, but it's an event to showcase new upcoming artists and I haven’t performed there solo before, so I don’t find it totally unbelievable they would ask me.” For once Enji has no rebuttal and you take that as your cue to continue. “Kai isn’t even in the line up… and even if he was, I’m going because this is important to me, this has nothing to do with him.”

Shouto couldn’t keep standing outside listening, he had to get his phone now. He briskly steps inside and shuts the door loudly behind him. “I left my phone,” he announces as he walks through the house to the kitchen. The silence that follows his interruption makes him worry you both figured out he had been listening, though perhaps you were both just embarrassed to be caught arguing. He finds his phone by the kitchen sink and pockets it quickly, before heading back towards the door. He nods towards you both before turning his back.

“Hey Shouto?” The sound of your voice stops him in his tracks. He shifts carefully to face you and sees your eyes glinting with mischief. “You own a hero agency right?” Shouto nods, watching carefully to see where you were going with this. “I’m sure then that you would have a hero capable of a simple bodyguard job, for just this little gig I’m doing on Friday, I know it’s last minute so if you don’t have anyone… I’ll be fine.” He had to play this carefully so as not to expose himself for eavesdropping. “Where’s the gig?” “The Viper Lounge,” Enji scoffs. His father must be furious that you’ve now involved a third party. If there was something Enji Todoroki hated, it was airing his dirty laundry. Shouto was careful not to laugh… you were far smarter than he initially gave you credit for.

“I’ve performed at the Viper before… tons of times-``''You have, but only with Kai Chisaki.” Your face tells Shouto that name hits a sore spot. Hearing his whole name sparks Shouto’s memory and he realises who Kai is. Kai Chisaki, an underground rapper… face tattoos and some nasty habits that earned him a hell of a rap sheet; burglary, assault, possession of unlicensed weapons, public indecency, drug counts too high to keep track of… He’d been arrested again a few months ago, but just like the last, he was bailed out and the charges were dismissed.

“But the Viper asked me to be a part of this gig for showing off upcoming talent… Enji’s just worried for me because he can't be there and my ex has a reputation- ``''That’s putting it lightly,” Enji interrupts, “he’s scum, deserves to rot in prison.” You rub your palms on your thighs and smile gently at Shouto. “I just think the situation would be more comfortable for everyone if I had some protection… Maybe you know of someone that could watch out for me for the night?”

Shouto resists the urge to volunteer, though the temptation of hearing your voice again is overwhelming. “Tch- as if I would trust any of the foolish heroes Shouto babysits to watch after you in that cesspool…” You gaze at Enji with big doe eyes, your body turning, hands inching towards his father’s legs. “You trust Shouto don’t you?” Enji pauses, before he sighs “I do.” You give him a winning smile, “then he’ll pick someone fit for the job.” Enji’s brow creases pensively, “Shouto,” he addresses. Shouto meets his father’s eyes, his heartbeat quickening as he realises what he’s about to ask. “What are your plans Friday? Could you take her?”

Shouto pretends to consider it, but really he counts the seconds until he can agree. He didn’t really know what it was about you that made him want to go with you so badly to this gig. It’s a separate part of himself that Shouto was unfamiliar with, a part of him that wasn’t thinking but desired only to know you… or understand you? There was just something about you. That was all he knew for sure. He nods, trying his best to hide his true feelings. “I could make arrangements to accompany y/n, as long as,” he looks at you, “you’re comfortable with that.” You hold out your hands defensively and shake your head, “if you have to move things around- you’re so busy- I-I don’t wanna cause you any trouble.” Shouto dismisses your statement, “it’s not trouble, I wouldn’t agree otherwise.”

You shift uncomfortably, “as long as you’re sure…” Shouto turns towards the door, facing forward as he leaves you with these words. “It’s important to you, right? Just accept my help.” He opens the door, and holds the frame tightly. He knows he shouldn’t, he hears the chorus of voices telling him not to look back, but it's that one part of him again that takes control and turns his head. He can’t help but smile slightly seeing your expression. Mouth parted and brow raised slightly in surprise. Beautiful.

“We’ll connect about details sometime during the week,” he confirms, “see you Friday.” He hears you call out your gratitude as he closes the door and makes for his car. He slides into the driver's seat and turns on the engine and looks towards his childhood home. The light from the windows casts a glow onto the grass. He finally exhales and with each new breath he gains more clarity about the situation. He shouldn’t care about you, he can’t let himself get any closer. He would help you with this gig and go back to avoiding family dinner like the plague. Shouto leans his head back into the seat and puts the car in reverse. He tries his best to shake off these thoughts but that little devil on his shoulder keeps cackling and whispering suggestions he chooses to immediately ignore.

He pulls out of the driveway and onto the road, pushing thoughts of you away and doing his best to find another topic to think about, something to distract him from the confusion of his swirling emotions. But as much as he tries, he can’t stop thinking about you.

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