#you know the scene where she's hesitating in the window and the music starts and he shoots her The Most infectious smile of all time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halemerry · 9 months

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I’m doing it. I’m breaking down the Scene. You know the one. I've been tearing it apart for a week straight now in discord and figured I should leave my observations here. So, uh, yeah, this one's a big one so buckle up folks!

I want to start with the build up because I can never leave well enough alone and because I think the framing we have coming into this sequence is important. We start with the camera on Mr. Acts of Service himself. Crowley, after banishing Muriel, starts cleaning up the bookshop. The music playing is the soft slow rendition of the opening theme. He is returning this space to the status quo, resetting back to normal, fully intending to do this for Aziraphale before dragging him out to the Ritz, falling back on their typical pattern of going out together for food and drink.

Now in a moment he's going to get interrupted by Nina and Maggie but before we get there I want to take a second to draw attention to the area of the bookshop that Crowley will be operating in for the bulk of this. This space is one we very frequently see Aziraphale in. It's his desk behind the till - a spot linked intrinsically to him, even down to the fact that it's located on the east side of the shop. The windows are throwing beams of light onto Aziraphale's chair and onto the same spot Crowley will stand during The Scene. This lighting choice will not change from now until our last shots in the bookshop and the way the blocking plays around these sunbeams is very aware (as Good Omens nearly always is) of exactly where they will land.

Nina and Maggie enter the scene to have a chat about boundaries and communication. Maggie, his own mirror, tells him flat out that he can't play with their lives like that. Maggie and Nina then both tell him that he and Aziraphale need to talk. And I don’t think they're wrong, exactly, but I do think that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually a lot better at communicating in general than they are in these following high stakes scenes. But that's some meta for later - for now I want to just focus on the particular way Crowley's been primed for the conversation he and Az are about to have. Nina in particular does something really interesting. She does exactly what we as the audience did when we first saw Nina and Maggie: she mistakenly projects herself onto Crowley. She says he has trust issues because she does and in the process accidentally frames the core of their problem as Crowley needing to allow himself to trust Aziraphale, a thing that he actively already does and has done for quite some time and has been shown to us several times throughout the two seasons.

Now the build up we get for Aziraphale going into this conversation is very small. By which I mean practically non-existent. We start at the end of his conversation with the Metatron who tells him to go tell his friend the good news - which notably does not imply that the news is something that would require Crowley to make a choice - and sends Aziraphale on his way. Now the most crucial thing in this sequence, to me, is the expressions Aziraphale makes when he thinks the Metatron isn't looking at him. While polite and smiley when engaged with him, Az's expression falls as soon as he doesn't have eyes on him. Something is wrong and Aziraphale knows it.

Aziraphale enters the shop. The doorway is dark and shadowy and he hasn't composed himself yet - though he does give Nina and Maggie a little smile as they leave. Then, as soon as they're not looking at him, but before he approaches Crowley, the tension is back.

He hesitates, then smiles and approaches Crowley. Crowley, planted dead center in that beam of light from earlier, takes off his glasses and promptly starts nervously rambling. The music cuts off here entirely, giving us nothing to focus on but the noises coming from our lead actors, the background noise from the street, and the ticking of the clock in the background. Aziraphale puts up his hands like he's going to interrupt then lowers them again as Crowley keeps talking, his face shifting into this helpless sort of smitten look.

Now look at the light and how it hits the bookshelves behind Crowley as he tries to get his confession going. It's in the shape of a wing. Keep an eye on that - when the camera chooses to show us this one wing of light is important.

Aziraphale then interrupts and there are two things I want to draw attention to here as Aziraphale fumbles for words. First of all is the fact that he glances in the direction of the door (and the Metatron) at least three times as he's struggling to speak.

Secondly, I want to draw attention to the words Az actually says here. He first echoes the Metatron's earlier statement about good news. He then does not roll into the news itself and instead glances at the door and says the Metatron. He starts rambling about the Metatron to a very confused looking Crowley and evetually talks his way into that the Metatron said something. He then hits a wall again, scrambling to find words and instead of explaining the context of what the Metatron says he lands on Gabriel. His brain latches onto someone obviously on the forefront of both their minds and something vaguely relevant to the news he's about to share. He rambles more about Gabriel's job, glancing once again at the door in the middle of this, still avoiding getting to the actual point or perhaps even synthesizing said point as he goes.

We then cut to what is framed as a flashback. I think it is very notable we only see this as Az is telling it to us. In other words that this is not us witnessing an event happening but us witnessing what Aziraphale is telling Crowley. This sequence is the single scene where the Metatron calls Crowley by name despite actively avoiding it in any real time continuity sequences. He uses it twice here which I think also is the strongest thread in here that tells us that we are seeing what Crowley is being told not necessarily what actually happened.

The instant the idea of restoring Crowley comes up the wing of light behind Crowley loses visibility. Crowley's speechless for a moment so Aziraphale fills the silence, already looking like he wants to cry as he talks about the old days. (I also can't help but to notice that the lights behind Az in this shot look like eyes.) Crowley finally speaks and circles around the beam of light he's been standing in like an object seeking to re-establish a source of gravity. The music cuts back in here with tense drawn out notes.

Crowley talks about how Hell offered him his place back and he turned them down. Aziraphale in turn presses on ideas that we know he doesn't really believe. It's a echo of the bandstand and uses a lot of the same language of that fight - another fight we know features Aziraphale saying things he knows aren't true. By now, we have seen him multiple times this season express he does not want to go back and make it abundantly clear that the side they have made for themselves is important to him. We see him actively calling angels bad and incompetent, contrary to everything he's telling Crowley here. We see him be the one to repetitively remind Crowley that they are on their side and be the one that always draws attention to that first. Yet here he says Heaven is the side of light to Crowley - who by the way is literally framed in light. The frame is telling us outright that Crowley is already Good as he is, while Az's expressions are telling us he knows Heaven isn't.

Aziraphale can't tell him that he did not turn down the job and Crowley does another orbit. The music cuts again. This time, he stops with his back to Az, tilts his head upward and decides to ruin me by invoking God.

Here he is, hearing these awful things that he was sure they had moved on from, hearing these things he has tried for so long and so hard to help them both unlearn. But these sorts of habits and lessons are insidious and he knows that and he himself is even a victim of that himself. I mean, don't get me wrong, he recognizes this is weird, I think, but between his own self worth issues and the stress of the few days they'd had can't work out what exactly is off here. He's confused and lost and just been told, in his mind, that he is not good enough as he is - a thing he has always on some level also believed. Yet he reaches out to the parent that taught him that lesson in the first place for strength and grounds himself with that. He circles back to stand in the beam of light and, with that wing of light finally backlighting him again, he is brave and tries to be enough anyway. He bows his head downward, fully emerging the line of this body in the light and tries again. Because even now, even after that emotional blow, Crowley is an optimist who can't help but to try.

At first Aziraphale can't figure out quite what is going on here. He squints at Crowley and glances at the door again. Crowley meanwhile keeps continually glancing upward, whether at God or to hold back tears or some combination of both. In most of these shots Crowley bisects the room, creating a dark half to his left and a light half to his right.

Crowley says he relies on Aziraphale. Even here, even now when he's just hurt him. Because it is the truth. Because Aziraphale makes him feel less alone. Because Aziraphale proves to him that no matter how fucked the system is that there is still good in the world, even if he doesn't always agree with it.

It is only once there is no doubt what Crowley is doing that Aziraphale starts shaking his head in very small quick shakes. He looks panicked even as they both physically draw closer to each other. It's huge not here, not like this energy to me. Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with to help him run Heaven. This is the point where Crowley starts tearing up.

Crowley then says you can't leave this bookshop, trying to say you can't leave me. Az, nearly in tears himself, says 'oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever' as a means to convey that the books aren't what is important here. Crowley, naturally, hears 'including us.'

Crowley looks down again, quietly agrees, and puts on his glasses, covering himself up again. He then wishes Aziraphale good luck and the music starts up again, still tense but sorrowful now. He leaves the light and heads to the door. Az can't help but to call after him. Please wait. And Crowley can't help but to listen. It's worth noting here that even as he rotates toward the north door, the light still gently hits his face. The shots in general are darker though. He's moved away from the light but it still can't help but to touch him.

"Come with me," says Aziraphale and then after a pause adds "To Heaven." Aziraphale, looking heartbroken, starts one of two 'I' statements he will struggle around in the next few moments. He lands on I need. Which. I want to pause there a moment because holy shit. That is not something they say out loud either. Az looks at him a moment, visibly struggling before he says his dialogue about Crowley not understanding his offer. Like he's said something he didn't mean to and needs to cover it up or like he can't handle the silence after such an honest statement. And on some level he's not wrong there. Because Crowley doesn't understand what Aziraphale is trying to say. But Aziraphale doesn't understand the way Crowley is reading it to course correct either.

Crowley says that he does understand and that he understands better than Aziraphale does. And he also isn't wrong either, from his perspective. Because he does understand the implications behind the offer theoretically in play here. Because he does know that the position Aziraphale is presenting him is not going to result in the outcome Aziraphale is presenting him with. There are some things you can't undo just like memories slipping through the cracks.

Az says there's nothing more to say, trying to dismiss Crowley despite having been the one to pull him to a stop moments ago. He puts on a fake polite smile for a beat but then his is jaw sets, mouth working as his eyes drop - unable to look Crowley in the eye.

Crowley tells him to listen as the music fades out and points upward. Aziraphale humors this, glancing up a few times before looking frustrated, saying he can't hear anything. The light from the window shines down in his direction without actually touching him. Crowley tells him "That's the point. No nightingales." The shot he's on here is a dark one without even any of the book shops pillars visible in it to brighten the shot.

Aziraphale looks frozen a moment here and then as Crowley calls him an idiot and says 'we could have been us' his face completely crumbles. He rapidly glances away to hide his face and Crowley moves and reaches to pull him back. They're both distraught. Az is clearly already holding back tears even before Crowley touches him. The angle of this shot frames Aziraphale in the light of the window. For the first time in this whole sequence Aziraphale is in the light, literally being physically pulled into it by Crowley.

The music swells, playing a similar theme to the one that plays as the Pillars of Creation are formed at the start of the season. They shift back and forth, the camera focusing on Aziraphale's face and hands. His hands move uncertainly, trying to reach out even as he's struggling emotionally. He is visibly shaking but he crucially does not pull away, not even a little.

His hands settle on Crowley's back, right where his wings would be, and for a brief moment gets taller, like he's allowing himself to lean into the kiss. They press together tightly, their mutual gravity sending them crashing together before they break apart. When they do Aziraphale looks devastated and his eyes move pretty much instantly to look out the window where the Metatron would be.

Crowley's glasses make him harder to read here, but he looks at Aziraphale like a man awaiting judgement in a trial he knows he's already lost. He's sad too, but as always, is waiting for Aziraphale's reaction. Because he might push continually at he boundaries of them as a unit but he has always let Aziraphale decide where to set them in stone.

Az fumbles over words here. He gets stuck on "I" here and lets it hang in the air. He then visibly thinks his words over, his expression slowly filling with resolve as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Then, like it's difficult to say, he falls back into old coded language. "I forgive you." A thing he has always said in response to things that he agrees with but cannot or should not allow himself to have.

Crowley sighs and tells him not to bother, refusing to fall into the old pattern that Aziraphale has. He is setting a boundary, for once, and even if it is one born from misunderstanding I am proud of him for being able to. He turns away and leaves. And this is where Az seems most in danger of falling apart. His lips move as Crowley goes, forming the start of a 'no' after him. He draws back from the door and turns his body away from it, physically distancing himself from anything that would feel like following Crowley. Except he can't help himself. With shaking hands he reaches up to touch his lips. He presses in, like he's trying to recreate the pressure and then his jaw works a moment and his expression sets as resolved.

The Metatron enters through the front door, which is framed in dark lighting. Aziraphale looks panicked and immediately turns his whole body away from him to hide his face while he collects himself.

He turns around after a beat and the Metatron asks 'how did he take it?' This is an odd question that only sort of half fits the fact that we are meant to believe at this point - that Aziraphale should be obtaining a yes or no from Crowley. It's not asking Crowley's choice at all. It's like the Metatron assumed a different conversation had happened or perhaps that he already knew the answer.

Aziraphale says he took it badly and the Metatron just takes a moment to direct a few casual digs at Crowley. He references him being stubborn and too curious - all the while avoiding the use of this name. At this point Az's eyes are locked out the window in the direction Crowley vanished to. The Metatron asks if he's ready to start despite originally having promised Az time to think over his answer. Aziraphale keeps glancing out the window.

For a moment he cracks, stepping away from the Metatron and back toward the east side of the bookshop. For the only time in this whole sequence he steps right into the sunbeam Crowley started in. It notably never illuminates his face as he mentions the issue of his bookshop (a statement absolutely not about the bookshop).

The Metatron explains Muriel will take care of it. Aziraphale looks back out the window with the start of an objection.

The Metatron interrupts him asking if there's anything he needs to take with him. Az's mouth takes a moment to try and form words. He steps out of the light again, starts to object, and then cuts off, eyes back to the window. Then his expression shifts again, settling in another state of resolve before he puts on his falsely polite face and follows the Metatron out.

As they leave the shop we cut back to Crowley. Crowley, who could've left to go handle his own emotions, did not leave. Instead he planted himself there, nice and noticeable. Like he wanted Aziraphale to see and know that he still has a choice. Like he needs to see Aziraphale make that choice for himself. Like he can't quite bring himself to be the one to close that last door. He stands there, framed by light, and doesn't move until the doors to the elevator to Heaven close behind Aziraphale. He then glances at Nina and Maggie and then gets in the Bentley, which starts playing the song that we now know he knows is supposed to be theirs. He turns off the music and drives away.

So there's a lot in these sequences and most of it probably won't help us figure out exactly what comes next, but there are definite signs that all is not as it's being presented to us. Whether he's actively lying or not, something is wrong that Aziraphale either can't or won't talk about frankly with Crowley. I suspect, whether it's under stress from a literal threat or because he believes that it is the safest option for them, that Aziraphale is doing all of this to protect Crowley.

There are also all sorts of signals here, especially in the lights, that gesture at the fact their togetherness is a net good. Together they are balanced and stronger for it and likely more in alignment with the Ineffable Plan. And, more importantly than that, that said togetherness is so clearly what they both want. They have loved each other longer than anything alive has ever loved anyone and none of this changes that. They both are saying that in their own ways here, even if those ways are not ones the other is particularly good at picking up and I for one cannot wait to get to see the payoff of them learning how to.

#good omens #gos2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #kind of #is it meta if its mostly me pointing and yelling?#come suffer with me #you have no idea how many times i had to watch these sequences for this #crowley #aziraphale #the bookshop

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freak-accident419 · 2 months

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The Unlikely Postulate of Clapton’s Love Life

Clapton Davis x GN!Reader Headcanons

Content: a little bit of fluff, mentions of virginity, mentions of underage drug use, that’s pretty much it :)

(A/n: Just like in the movie, I made a chapter title card as if you and Clapton’s relationship were inserted. I was really in love with the names such as ‘The Terrible Ultimatum of Clapton Davis’, ‘The Lonely Ballad of Billy Nolan,’ etc. so I came up with one as if these headcanons were scenes in the movie.)

You knew Clapton since Freshman year. You knew of him, at least, and you didn’t actually have a conversation with him until junior year. It all started when he asked you for a pen.

You weren’t too popular like him. But you were sort of the sweetheart of the school. Nobody would talk about you as much as they did Clapton, but when you were brought up, only good things were said about you.

A few small things had progressed your friendship with Clapton. First, it was the pen thing. Then you two were teamed up for a science project. This showed him how smart you were, so he began to rely on you. You were also charming and he began to become infatuated with you, so he asked you for homework help a lot of the time. You went on ‘dates’ and things, like how he skated you home, went on a movie date with you, went bowling together, until you two were official partners.

You two were both in Spanish classes. You were passing and he was failing, so you had to tutor him a whole lot. He came up to you one day with a giddy smile and said ‘Tu es mucho bonito.’ It wasn’t completely correct, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

He burned a CD for you consisting of all of your favorite songs.

Sometimes he appeared in your front yard at midnight for a late night skate. Other times he appeared, he went to your window and you two just made out.

You made out a lot. And you probably lost your virginity to him.

You two got high sometimes. One time you had a very long, weed-driven conversation about who the ‘real’ karate kid was: Ralph Macchio or Billy Zabka. He said it was obviously Macchio, but you liked to argue for Billy. In retrospect, you weren’t sure why.

You two are basically each other’s best friends. It took a while for the school to realize you were dating.

As attractive and charming as Clapton was, nobody really expected him to be in a relationship. He seemed like one of those cool chill guys who wouldn’t involve himself in one. That’s why everyone was so surprised to know that he was in a relationship, let alone with you—it was highly unlikely. Everyone in the school thought you were the power couple, though. Everyone talked and gossiped about your new relationship with him a lot.

You both didn’t like the idea of extravagant prom-posals. Plus, it was sort of a mutual understanding, you two knew you wanted to go together.

He loves holding your hand. Whether he’s walking you to your class or home, he cannot go without holding your hand.

He tried to teach you how to skateboard once because you asked him. You fell. It was terrible. But he patched you up and blamed himself for not teaching you or protecting you properly.

He loves sharing his music with you. Sharing earbuds and everything. When he found out that your go-to slow dance song was “Fields of Gold” by Sting, he instantly knew you were his soulmate.

Sometimes when you two cuddle, you talk about your future together. You hope to stay together long enough to get married. Then you think about articulate things like where to live, what kind of house, pets, etc.

He always said ‘Clapton don’t dance’ but that was a lie. He’d never hesitate to slow dance with you.

You made each other friendship bracelets. He never wants to take it off.

Riley was very supportive of your relationship. As Clapton’s best friend, she was glad that he found someone as amazing as you.

He loves whenever you play with his hair. You do it a lot.

Sometimes you’d ditch school to hang out at a 7-11 or smoke pot. It didn’t matter what you did, as long as he hung out with you. He enjoyed quality time.

One time, before you two were dating, you two ditched school because Clapton wanted to show you a trick he learned on the skateboard to impress you. Clearly he wasn’t ready because he fell, suffering a terrible injury. But there was something so dorkishly charming about that moment, that that was probably the first time you realized you liked him more than a friend.

The first time he said ‘I love you’ was by mistake. You two were both very high. He genuinely meant it, however. And so, the very next day, he properly confessed. And you expressed your reciprocation.

This was my first set of headcanons I’ve written, so I hope you enjoyed it! I hope I did this prompt justice :’) I was so proud of the title that I was too eager to wait until I got a solid fic idea, so I just decided to write headcanons :) thanks for reading!

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #clapton davis x gn!reader #clapton davis headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #detention #detention 2011 #josh hutcherson #clapton davis #josh hutcherson x you #gender neutral reader #mike schmidt x reader #peeta mellark x reader #josh futturman x reader #josh hutcherson x reader

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251-dmr · 15 days

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Arrivals - Compare and Contrast

I've been thinking for a while now how there seems to be parallels to the arrival of Gabriel (E1) and the arrival of Muriel (E3) to the bookshop. I imagine they've been obvious to everyone else already?

Anyway, I tried to lay out how I thought they were similar and where they differed, even if it's just an exercise for myself. But there's another arrival too: Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael in E2, and that one is quite different.

None of this may mean anything other than good story telling.

For Gabriel and Muriel:

Both arrivals are announced to us via someone in the coffee shop: Nina for Gabriel and Mrs Sandwich for Muriel.

Both arrivals are accompanied by car horn honks. With Gabriel it sounds like 1 long followed by 2 short (then a bunch more, lol). For Muriel it sounds like 2 medium-length honks and followed by a wolf whistle.

If I've got this right and please correct me if I'm wrong, Gabriel enters on Whickber St from the park (east?). Muriel, however, is coming in from the other direction, on Whickber St from the west(?).

For both, when they arrive and knock on the door, Aziraphale is listening to music, and wearing his grey sweater. With Gabriel, his back is to the window, and he's facing his old-fashioned gramophone listening to Shostakovich. With Muriel, he's at his desk facing the window and listening to Everyday on a boxed record player sitting on the end of the counter (where Gabriel's box was originally placed but which has now apparently been moved).

Azi opens the door for both Gabriel and Muriel and our initial view is from the inside looking out. Gabriel has his back to us and is facing away. Muriel is facing us.

Gabriel and Muriel both ask to be allowed to come in. With Gabriel, Azi initially says No, but then agrees, somewhat rudely telling him to get inside. With Muriel, he hesitates briefly, then invites her in politely.

Once inside, Gabriel is now seated with his back to the window and Azi sits, or stands, facing him and the window. He brings the hot chocolate and simply says "You drink it." Which Gabriel does. With Muriel they are seated 90* oriented differently, with the window to Azi's right and Muriel's left. He brings her the tea and explains "To drink." Which she doesn't.

Up until now, Crowley is not around for either arrival.

Later, Azi meets up with Crowley in the coffee shop to "not" discuss Gabriel's presence. I didn't really identify a parallel scene for Muriel.

Then we get Crowley's jump scare upon seeing Gabriel, and his surprise and amusement at seeing Muriel.

For Gabriel and for Muriel, A & C go into the back room to discuss the situation.

That's as far as I felt I could follow the parallels. Probably superficial, but that's what I got.

Now, in E2 when Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael arrive, it's quite different and may not even warrant being mentioned here.

Azi is not in the bookshop, he's not listening to any music, but he is in the record shop to find out about the Everyday song that Jim was singing.

While he's there, we do hear a horn honk which Azi turns his head to look out the window toward. Shortly after, he/we hear the trumpets [see below] sound.

Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael arrive from the park direction, same as Gabriel.

They arrive at the bookshop first and Azi gets to them just after, so they are waiting on him to arrive.

Jim is the one who opens the door and the view is from the outside looking in. Saraqael asks to discuss things inside and I'm not sure if Jim has invited them in or is just excited about having "customers" but then Azi agrees and invites them in.

No offers to sit, they just stand, Azi doesn't bother to offer them anything to drink, because, angels.

But later, A & C meet at the pub to discuss the situation.

As for those trumpets...what? Why are we hearing trumpets? I know we hear them in S1E4 after they beat up Aziraphale and that was to signal that Armageddon was starting. Was there anywhere else?

So why are we hearing them for Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael just dropping in to ask about Gabriel? Hearing them definitely concerned Azi. We don't hear them in E6 after the attack on the bookshop. Is that because Crowley was with them?

Please, I hope someone has a nice explanation for the trumpets and what those trumpets may mean at that point in the story.

I tried to search to find anyone else's take on this but I couldn't find anything. Probably more my problem of not getting the hang of searching in Tumblr. If anyone knows of a good post on this I would love to read it.

#go meta #good omens meta #good omens arrivals #good omens s2 #good omens what's with the trumpets?#good omens there's something about the Muriel horn honks that are bothering me but I'm not sure why yet.

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firewolf-pyro · 6 months

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13. CHRIST’S MASS

Scene: we enter the large open first floor of the sciences center with the soft sound of cheery Christmas music sounding. People are absolutely everywhere dressed in ugly Christmas or holiday sweaters. There are Christmas trees or decorated alien plants set up around the walls and some holiday themed rugs are set up under them with some small piles of press ants under each. At the center of the large open area there are tables set up with themed snacks and pastries. As the camera pans over the cloud of people we see the head scientist Anis talking with her second, Lesly. Anis is wearing a traditional cat nun outfit while Lesly is wearing a gaudy ugly green Christmas tree themed sweater. We pan past them when Lesly points past the wall of people towards the lift entrance. At this point the music begins to distort and turn sad as the camera turns to stare into the dark lift where we see standing within it is Henry. He is not dressed in anything more than some medical garb with a loose fitting jacket around his shoulders. He looks to be hanging back staying at the lift’s side out of the way.

Scene: As the music distorts Henry lifts his hand and carefully presses it into his eyes. A grimace will pull its way across his face as the scene changes to an unsaturated blurry memory. We open up into a small apartment living room, mostly empty besides a few very modern looking pieces of furniture. On the windowsill there sits some holiday themed lights but otherwise the room is devoid of any holiday cheer. Henry enters from behind the camera and sits calmly down in the plain room besides the window. We can hear behind him Kendra’s voice.

Kendra: “You’re always invited to my place if you’ve got nowhere else to go this holiday.”

Scene: A soft clink can be heard on the window and we see Henry push open the window. Though it is not actively snowing outside, the dark winter night beyond seems to be very frigid and cold. Henry inches closer to the window’s edge on his knees and peers out over the edge. Behind him we hear Investigator Jones voice.

Jones: “Come over to my family’s holiday festivity’s Henry my boy. I know your relationship with your own is a little rough. Don’t worry about it at all.”

Scene: Henry stands up from where he is kneeling and looks to be edging closer and closer to the open window. He stops only when the sound of a door clicks open behind him. Much more clearly we can hear Kendra’s voice.

Kendra: “HENRY!”

Actions: she shrieks in an urgent tone before rushing over to him past the camera and yanks him backwards away from the window. They both clatter to the ground, Henry visibly crying as Kendra clings to him with both of her hands as she holds him in a tight hug.

Scene: as Kendra soothes him the memory shivers away back to the overly cheery scene from before. Henry blinks away some tears as the lift behind him dings and opens. A blue Dalek casing rolls out and turns to look up at Henry who is trying to hide that he has been crying as he looks away from the Dalek. Behind Blue Olesia steps out from the lift. She is wearing a red sweater with some holiday design on the front. The Dalek is wearing a scarf and in its manipulator arm it is carrying a second sweater along with a holiday cap.

Olesia: “Oh there you are! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! I admit I was starting to get a little worried.”

Actions: she grins and quickly takes the two items from Blueton and brings them over to Henry. She pauses in her step only a moment as she notices Henry’s puffy red eyes.

Blueton: “You… are in emotional distress?”

Actions: they move away from the lift’s entrance and around to Henry’s side. The trio now is facing the rest of the crowd in the room though Olesia is fussing with the fabric in her own arms uncomfortably.

Olesia: “Okay… no, now I am worried.”

Actions: she offers Henry the goofy sweater. Henry glances down at it then goes to take it. He hesitates before taking it from Olesia’s grasp and begins to shed the jacket to put the sweater on.

Henry: “Thanks… I’m just- this is my least favorite holiday.”

Actions: he sniffs as he pulls the holiday sweater on. There is a reindeer with a red nose on the front of it.

Blueton: “Explain?”

Actions: the Dalek lifts his eyestalk to look at Henry for a moment before turning it to continue watching the people in the room around them.

Henry: “I’d prefer not to.”

Actions: He admitted as he ran his hands up and down his upper arms as he gave himself a self hug.

Olesia: “It’s alright Henry.”

Actions: she would sigh before looking to Blueton. With a saddened smile she waved a finger at him asking him to follow her.

Olesia: “we’ll be right back, Henry. I’m going to get you a drink.”

Actions: she explains and Henry stands up from the wall finally.

Henry: “wait, Blue- could you stay? I… do need to talk to you about something.”

Actions: he steps in front of the Dalek between it and Olesia. The Dalek glances from Henry back to Olesia while Olesia smiles and nods to Henry.

Olesia: “okay, just don’t make a scene-…”

Actions : She purposefully jolts her head towards the crowd where we can see Rose and The Doctor interacting with some of the other’s in the room. She gives a soft chuckle before turning and vanishing into the crowd leaving the two where they were against the wall.

Scene: the blue casing returns to the side of Henry’s. They both look to be leaning against the wall and watching the crowd in front of them in a quiet manner. The camera pans from the left to show them watching people then to the right so we can get a good look at both people’s/ actors.

Blueton: “what did you wish to discuss with me?”

Actions- the Dalek pipes up finally after a moment of silence. They look to Henry for just a moment before continuing to watch the crowd in front of them.

Henry: “I… lied I don’t want to talk to you about anything… I just didn’t want to be left alone again- and no offense but you couldn’t carry much of anything let alone some drinks for us…”

Actions- he stammers and coughs at the very end before moving a bit closer to the Dalek Casing. The eyestalk quickly looks back at Henry as their sides contact each other.

Blueton: “Okay…”

Actions: they look at Henry up and down before continuing.

Blueton: “what is the point of this holiday? I do not understand…”

Actions: they look back towards the trees and decorations. The camera pans over each decorated item in the room before going back to the pair of them.

Henry: “There is no point to any holiday, honestly.”

Actions: he sighs in an irritated way before relaxing against the Dalek casing.

Henry: “the only point seems to be making you spend incredulous amounts of money, feel left out when others can’t or won’t spend on you and feel forgotten when you aren’t invited to a family event.”

Actions: he grumbles as he watched the people continue their idle chatter. The music changes to something more rock’n roll modern as someone calls for peoples attention at the back of the room/ front of the room.

Blueton: “I do not understand- why celebrate it if it is so negative?”

Actions: he looks up at Henry for a good long while as Henry shifts around uncomfortably bedsides him. He eventually busies himself with playing with the scarf tied around the Dalek’s casing.

Henry: “because it’s meant to be a celebration of life and such. Like- for some it’s the birth of a god, for others it’s continuation of the year.”

Actions: he grumbles before stopping his fussing with the fabric. His gaze turns to stare into the crowd that is now all facing away from them.

Blueton: “what changed it for you?”

Actions: their eyestalk lingers on Henry for a long moment before turning back to watch the crowd. It seems someone in the front of the room is addressing the crowd but we barely hear it in the back of the room over the pair’s conversation and music.

Henry: “I guess.. everything. I grew up. I grew distant.”

Actions: he looked back to Blueton for a brief moment before continuing.

Henry: “I just… I can’t stand the feeling of being forgotten. The intense loneliness over the holidays.”

Actions: he brings his hand back up to his face to wipe at his eyes.

Blueton: “I… understand the emotional response. I understand the logical reaction to being forgotten. It is a betrayal of your hive, of your empire… your… family.”

Actions: he turns to look away again before turning his casing into Henry to jostle him.

Blueton: “Olesia is taking her time, we should go find her.”

Actions: he begins to move away from the wall giving Henry enough time to stand up from it. Henry hesitates to follow Blue for a moment before jogging up to his side to follow him into the crowd of people.

Scene: the blue casing cuts through the crowd, people moving away from it like it had the plague. Behind it Henry tried to stay right on Blueton’s tail as they made their way through the crowd towards the front. We can hear Olesia’s laugh from the distance and we the people part in front of the camera to reveal her standing at a table with different punches, wines and other drinks set out on it. She is talking with a blue humanoid, Bastion. They both seem to be enjoying their conversations- Bastion holding one glass of clear sparkling liquid while Oleisa is holding two glasses of what might be red whine.

Olesia: “I know! And the possibilities of using that replication process in other species could mean great things for bio-technologies!”

Actions: she grins then glanced towards the splitting crowd as Blueton and Henry emerge from it. Her demeanor seems to straighten up somewhat as she sees them.

Bastion: “Ah… ahem.. we should continue this discussion later.”

Actions: he eyes the Dalek with a cautious gaze, stepping back to make room for the blue casing. Henry scrambled up besides him- only giving Bastion a quick glance.

Henry: “You were taking too long so we went looking for you.”

Actions: he smiles over to her before looking at what she was holding. He holds a hand out expectantly but she just kind of looks at him lost for a second before handing the second drink to him.

Olesia: “Hah- sorry, Bastion-“

Actions- she’s interrupted by Bastion,

Bastion: “Doctor- Bastion.”

Actions: he corrects sharply. Olesia gives him a look before continuing.

Olesia: “Bastion and I got to talking about the replication processes of viruses.”

Actions: she chuckled then looked to Blueton with a wide contented look.

Olesia: “I’m pretty sure you would be able to school these scientists on their studies here, Blue- but they’ve asked me not to tell you about much of what they’re studying down here.”

Actions: she sighs and takes a sip from her glass. She then looks from her glass to the Dalek’s manipulator arm.

Blueton: “Why?”

Actions- he looks to Olesia in a confused manner before Bastion again pipes up beside him.

Bastion: “Let’s not talk about this here during the holiday’s. I can explain our reasoning later on.”

Actions: he stated in a hurried sort of way. He sips carefully at his drink which makes his whiskers dance about the glass a bit.

Olesia: “Blue, tilt your arm like this-“

Actions: Olesia take hold of Blueton’s manipulator atm and tilts it up a bit then guides the suction cup end to be tilted up like a cup. She looks to her own glass of red wine before curiously pouring a bit of her drink into the manipulator arm’s cup.

Blueton: “Olesia what-“

Actions- the whole casing give a startled shutter as the liquid touches the cup’s surface. The liquid is drained almost as soon as it is placed into the cup.

Henry: “Olesia- what the hell are you doing?! You don’t know if they can even process alcohol-“

Actions- he steps around Blue’s casing and pushes Olesia’s glass away from the manipulator arm. Olesia lifts it up and away to prevent any from spilling as Henry steps between her and the Dalek.

Bastion: “Come off it, these things suck the flesh from the bones of the people they’ve slaughtered- a bit of red wine’s not going to hurt it.”

Actions: he snorts in an amused sort of way as he stares into the Dalek’s eyestalk. The pupil in shrunken into a fine point as the Dalek begins to taste just what was introduced into their external stomach.

Blueton: “DISGUSTING- how can you DRINK this fluid with a straight face???”

Actions- they wince as their eyestalk lifts and turns to stare Olesia right in the face. She smirks and takes another sip of her wine.

Blueton: “Some more would not be refused- if you do not mind.”

Actions- in a much quieter tone they reach their manipulator arm past Henry towards Olesia again. Henry, looking baffled steps between them again.

Henry: “No, no! You will not be needing any more than that. Blue we should dump your system- it could be poison to you!”

Actions- he insists and carefully tries to lower the Dalek’s manipulator arm. The pupil in the eyestalk is wide now, showing the contentment in this situation.

Blueton: “I will not, though I will oblige with your concerns and refuse the next offered drink.”

Actions- they lower the manipulator arm and turn so that both Olesia and Henry are at its side. Bastion makes another snorting noise of amusement.

Henry: “But… okay but I will be watching you for signs of lethargy-“

Actions: he looked through the neck vents as he pulls the scarf down a bit to peer into the casing.

Blueton: “you are not a medical specialist, Henry.”

Actions: Blueton insisted, turning his eyestalk towards where he was peering into the casing from. Olesia let out a cackle of amusement.

Olesia: “Okay the two of you. There’s going to be holiday dance and I’d like to escape this hall before then. Just- let’s get going.”

Actions: she downs the rest of her drink and waves goodbye to Bastion. Bastion bows his head to her as she takes hood of Blueton’s scarf and uses it to guide him away from the table.

Henry: “Yeah- I don’t know anyone here well enough to want to get to talking with them let alone dance.”

Actions: he gives a dry chuckle before following behind Blueton yet again back through the crowd. Soon the trio vanished into the crowd of people leaving Bastion standing alone by the drinks.

Scene: the trio are all sitting facing each other in the quiet hospital wing. Olesia and Henry are sat in the bed facing Blueton, the curtains are drawn and there are some sparkly garlands around the edge of the track they are set into. Henry has a pleasant smile on his face and there is a glass of drink in both Olesia’s and Henry’s hands. A bottle of some kind of alcohol is sitting on the bedside table.

Blueton: “So explain to me again the point of this holiday?”

Actions: he insists as both Olesia and Henry take a swig of their drinks. I’m n the distance we can hear the soft sound of holiday music.

Henry: “To feel lonely amongst your friends and family.”

Action’s: he takes another swig before Olesia shoots in with her own idea of the holiday.

Olesia: “just to celebrate and be merry!”

Actions: she giggled and poked Henry on the side with her pointer finger. He glared at her for a moment before returning to a soft smile.

Henry: “She’s had a better experience with the holiday than I have. Only recently has things been well again family wise… well- I include Olesia, Jones and Kendra under that title…”

Actions: he sighs taking another long drink from his glass. Once empty he goes to refill the glass.

Olesia: “I’m sorry, Henry… I’m hoping things will get better for you- for us again.”

Actions: she looks to Blueton, an expectant gaze to her. She clearly wants confirmation for this expectation.

Blueton: “I… will attempt to make your lives improve if you remain loyal to my cause.”

Actions: Blueton insists after looking between Henry and Olesia. Both look visibly disappointed in this.

Olesia- “That… that is a reason we have issues trusting you.”

Actions: Olesia leans over to rest her shoulder against Henry’s. He smiles a bit at the physical gesture.

Blueton- “Explain?”

Actions- he continues to look back and forth between the two.

Henry- “we get that your cause is important in the long term- but… people should also matter, individuals should also be important to you.”

Actions- he gestures to himself then over to Olesia. She smiles a bit.

Olesia- “It’s okay to fall for us, for individual peoples. We won’t betray you- if you start to let us in a little.”

Actions- she smirks a bit trying to make the situation more playful than serious. The Dalek looks away from the both of them.

Blueton- “I… can attempt … to allow you both in but no more inferior species.”

Actions- he admits before going quiet again. Both Henry and Olesia sit up in their spots, a hopeful look on their faces.

Henry- “That’s all we want, Blue. Honestly…”

Actions- he glanced towards the hall for a moment before standing. Olesia sits where she is, just staring over Blueton’s form.

Henry- “Just try and trust us.”

Actions- he wraps his arms around the casing and peers into the neck vents.

Blueton- “I simply do not want to lose my other’s again.”

Actions- they state in a quiet tone. Olesia leans over to watch them both.

Henry- “Then let us in, help us prepare ourselves to stay out of danger.”

Actions- stands up to peer into the eyestalk of the Dalek. There is no response from the Dalek.

Scene- the trio are stood or sat in the hospital wing. The camera begins to pan out as softer holiday music begins to play. We see the decorated space before fading to the first floor full of people. We see the Doctor and Rose Tyler both enjoying their holiday drinks. Bastion and Lesly are talking by the drink stand while Anis is standing amongst her peers in the crowd. We pan to a brilliantly decorated tree then the background begins to fade to black while the tree stays into view while the credits begin to roll.

#tw suicide attempt #Dalek #Doctor who #Torchwood’s Dalek #the doctor’s Dalek #fan fiction #skit

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atamascolily · 6 months

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princess tutu re-watch, episode 15

awwww yeah, Coppelia episode!

(of all the ridiculous classic ballet plots, Coppelia is my favorite because it's literally "guy makes a doll so realistic, a teenage boy falls in love with it, only to nearly get sacrificed by its creator to bring her to life, but is rescued by his girlfriend pretending to be the doll, and then they get married like that whole thing didn't just happen". There's also an alternate, happier version where the creator helps the girlfriend troll her boyfriend for the lulz instead of trying to kill him, but either way, he gets a bag of money at the end, and it's a riot.)

also the parallels with Drosselmeyer, puppets, and everything going on with Rue and Mytho are obvious

Ahiru: Gosh, it sure was weird Mytho leaped out the window and I had to rescue him again! I sure hope nothing's wrong.

Fakir (watching Mytho sleep in a totally not-creepy way): I have no idea what's happening, but it's probably bad.

Fakir is right! It turns out that evil!Mytho is accusing Fakir of pushing him out of the window, and everyone believes it-- except for Ahiru, of course.

Neko-sensei's like, "look, you two, I've seen people do crazier things for love, so the best solution is for you two to no longer be roommates" but of course Mytho will not stop there.

conveniently, no one pays any attention to the random duck wandering around with a bundle of clothes on her back. Just a normal day at Gold Crown academy, apparently.

we learn from Pike that in addition to seeing Fakir push Mytho out the window, all of the eyewitnesses saw a "white bird" (Tutu) save him, as if he's protected by "the God of Dance", so not everyone can see her/notice the effects.

Mytho (looking at Pike and licking his lips): you have such a great heart. I'm going to eat it. Just rip it out and devour it whole. And--this is the best part--you're gonna thank me for it.

Fakir, your anger management issues and brusque manner, while understandable, are not winning you any friends here.

The evil raven is an eldritch horror living in what is basically a PMMM labyrinth, and a single talon dwarfs Rue completely.

here we see the real villain isn't Rue, but her "father", who has gaslighted her into believing herself ugly (because she's human) and that he and Mytho are the only people who can love her. Essentially, Rue is his tool, and so is Tutu, because only Tutu can restore the heart shards.

Fifteen episodes in, and we've learned more about Pike than in the previous fourteen episodes combined.

Rue mocking Fakir for his book learning may NOT be the most advisable decision when you're literally all characters in a story, hahaha

Pike sneaks out of the dorm at night and, ignoring all the major red flags, agrees to join Mytho's creepy cult of personality with zero hesitation whatsoever. Meanwhile, Ahiru manages to pass her stealth check for once.

love how Pike starts doing the Coppelia choreography to indicate her surrender

I think this is the first time Ahiru has turned into Princess Tutu of her own will, without Drosselmeyer saying her name first

the music is WAY too upbeat and cheerful for this scene, lol

Tutu: please don't join a cult, it's not worth it, I promise

Pike: lol, okay *passes out*

Mytho is just really not having a good time with this, poor kid, being possessed by your worst enemy has got to suck even without the prospect of literal and metaphorical cannibalism

then Ahiru has to deal with TWO people passed out in the town square, good thing she can use Tutu's magic to cover it

Pike (waking up): Where… am I?

Lilie (with a tray): Good morning! Ahiru hauled your drunk ass back home after beating you to a pulp first!

Pike: Well, I don't know about that bit, but I sure was drunk… on love or something. What the hell was I thinking letting an older man lure me into isolated secondary locations even if he was hot and mysterious?

meanwhile, Fakir got suspended and is going home to Charon's place for brooding and serious research.

Fakir: Well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions come back to haunt me. But it's fine, I don't care (he said caringly through gritted teeth).

(if that last sentence doesn't sum up Fakir's character, I don't know what does)

#princess tutu #lily liveblogs

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dapandapod · 2 years

Text

HELLO! I am yearning. Geraskier get to slowdance.

I highly recomending listening to at least this!

and if possible, let it overlap with this!

PLEASE ENJOY! <3 On Ao3 here

Half a bottle of wine, beers, and stray pieces of escaped salad painted a domestic scene on the kitchen table.

Most of his friends had left for the night already, as time passed and the rain clouds gathered.

In their wake is the old gramophone in the living room, rediscovered and cherished as old classics such as Queen, Bowie, Beatles, Chopins, or like right now, Ella Fitzgerald singing with Louis Armstrong softly over the speaker.

It is just Jaskier and Geralt left. Jaskier usually lingers, and Yennefer teases them about it mercilessly, but truth is, Geralt wants him to.

There is something building between them. Has been, for a good long while.

Something Geralt has been too much of a coward to admit to himself, but here he is, sitting with their legs pressed together, next to each other by a big, empty table.

He can do the dishes tomorrow. The rain is pattering against the window, the candles burning low and giving everything a dreamlike glow.

The way Jaskier is smiling at him, fiddling with a napkin inches from where Geralt is resting his hand, it makes him feel warm, content. If he got nothing else but this, he would be happy.

“It feels like we are in one of those old time movies.” Jaskier says when a new song starts.

“Is that so? War drama or cowboys?” Geralt teases, and Jaskier pokes his hand on the table in retaliation. But let it linger, for just a moment, before returning to the poor napkin.

“I see no boots nor hat on you.” Jaskier snarks, giving him a look and then averting his eyes down to his hands. Geralt is looking too. On those long fingers moving so close to his, on Jaskier’s lips, forming words but holding them in.

“Maybe war drama. Where the soldier comes back and asking his sweetheart for a dance.” Jaskier muses, and yes, Geralt can see it.

The beat is slow, the piano smooth, Ella’s voice crooning around them.

“Seen many of those?” Geralt asks.

“A few. My grandmother used to watch me a lot when I was a kid. She had a few favorites.” Jaskier smiles at the memory. “We used to dance too, I would stand on her feet when she showed me the steps. Haven’t danced like that since she passed.”

They are quiet for a moment, and Geralt makes a decision. He stands up, chair scraping, and offers Jaskier his hand.

“Dance with me?”

It’s nerve wracking, the second Jaskier spends studying him, until he places his hands in Geralt, warm and a little sweaty.

He stands too, and Geralt backs them into the open space in front of the fridge.

Not the most romantic setting per say, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I only know how to lead.” Geralt admits, and Jaskier’s mouth quirks in a fond smile.

“I barely know how to follow. Lead on.”

“You can’t stand on my feet though.” Geralt warns, stepping in close and putting his hand on Jaskier’s waist.

“Spoilsport.”

They sway to the beat, circling around in the small space, listening to the rain and the music.

Jaskier’s arm is resting over his, his hands ever restless playing with the seam of Geralt’s shirt.

Time doesn’t exist here, in this bubble of theirs. Geralt barely notices the songs change, so lost in their slow co-existence.

Then it abruptly ends, as the needle has reached its end destination.

Jaskier pulls back without a word, leaving Geralt in the kitchen, cold and lost. He can’t bring himself to move though, not sure what is expected of him now.

Jaskier pads out into the living room, and then the music starts again.

Without a word, without any hesitation, Jaskier returns to Geralt’s arms. But instead of holding his hands, he wraps his arms around Geralt’s shoulder, bringing them so much closer than before.

Their feet touch before they find their rhythm again, and Geralt’s hands find Jaskier’s lower back almost on their own.

He can feel Jaskier under his palms, his breath against his neck, his fingers for once calm as he is being held.

“This is nice.” Jaskier murmurs, and Geralt agrees.

He moves an inch closer, holding Jaskier against himself, and is rewarded with a soft intake of breath.

Then Jaskier is leaning his head against his, forehead resting against Geralt’s temple.

“Stay?” Geralt whispers, and Jaskier tightens his hold, nose tracing Geralt’s jaw.

Instead of replying, Jaskier kisses him. It is soft and slow, that restless hand touching Geralt’s neck, tracing down to his chest, over his heart.

Geralt catches it, lacing their fingers together as the dance continues. Jaskier stays the night. Helps Geralt with the dishes in the morning.

Kisses in the morning light tastes like coffee and promise.

#geraskier #modern au #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #go brush your teeth kind of fluff #friends to lovers #slow dancing #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #i am yearning can you tell #dapanda writes #getting together

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childofhermes03 · 2 years

Text

More Ronance Band!AU because it's single handedly keeping me going

As always you can check out the full fic here. This picks up after chapter 5 :)

°○°○°○°○°

It was around 3am when Steve and Nancy finally pulled up to the Wheelers driveway. The porch was cast with shadows that fled from the streetlight just a little farther down the sidewalk. The night was completely silent once they killed the rumbling motor, and the wooden stairs only creaked a little bit as the two slowly made their way inside.

The house was just as quiet as the surrounding area, and it'd be enough to make Nancy think she was going deaf if she couldn't still hear the faint hum of the cicadas outside. From over her shoulder, the brunette could see her unexpected guest inspecting the little details around her home. Steve looked at every knick-knack, picture, and painting he could as they passed through the halls to the stairs that led to Nancy's room.

They were about halfway up the stairs when there's a flick of a switch and the room is suddenly cast in a harsh orange light for all of 10 seconds. At the other end of the room is her mother, hands on her hips as her gentle blue eyes took in the scene in front of her.

"Well," she started after a pause, "I have to say, you were much better at sneaking Steve in when you were a teenager, Nancy."

"Mom!" Nancy shrieked, pointedly trying to avoid her mother's teasing gaze as well as the flustered look Steve is giving the back of her head.

"What? I'm just saying, he didn't stomp quite as loud when he was sneaking through your window." She chuckled as the man muttered a hushed apology. Turning her attention his way, she quirks an eyebrow,"But that was years ago so, to what do we owe the pleasure, Steve?"

"I- uhm, well…" He fumbles, as he realizes there's no actual reason for him to be in the Wheeler's house. At least, other than Nancy's panic induced state, which the brunette can tell he was hesitant to bring up around her mother.

"He's helping me with a story!" Nancy supplies, hoping her mom will take the bait.

It takes a beat before Steve catches on, "Yeah! She needs some help staking out some crooked politician and she called me in for backup. It’s supposed to be big." The boy waggled his eyebrows to sell it, but the older woman still looked unconvinced.

"We're just here to get some clothes. I don't know how long we’ll be gone.” Nancy said, ushering Steve up the stairs. The quicker they got away from her mom, the quicker they could leave.

“Okay well don’t stay up too late, and be careful!” Mrs. Wheeler yelled up after them before the door to her bedroom cut off anything else the woman may have said. As the door clicked into place, the brunette sighed heavily, dragging her hands down her face. She could feel the exhaustion from the day seeping into her bones the longer she stood there, so pushing away from the door, she turned to find Steve standing in the middle of the room seemingly lost in thought.

“You okay there?” Whatever trance Steve had fallen under seemed to dissipate at the sound of her voice. He shook his head slightly and turned back to her, a gentle smile on his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just- your room looks a bit different than I remember.” He said wistfully looking around the room. The walls that were once painted pastel pink were now white with dark oak borders around the floor. Her room was just as organized and proper as before, though her desk looked much more cluttered than it did in highschool, clips of newspapers and half finished drafts covering nearly every square inch of its surface.

The boy's eyes landed on the poster above her headboard and Steve couldn’t stifle his laugh as the Tom Cruise poster that had once been proudly displayed was now replaced with Joan Jett smiling wolfishly. Nancy flushed as she realized where the boy's attention had drifted.

"Yeah yeah, whatever, I just really like her music okay." She huffed digging in her closet.

"Whatever you say, Nance." The two fell into a comfortable silence as they sifted through the clothes. Occasionally, they would point out outfits that they remember from their time together (Nancy's wardrobe really hasn't changed much since they were in school.) Once they had filled the bags to the brim with clothes, Steve bid Nancy goodnight. While Nancy was adamant that she didn't mind giving the man the bed, Steve insisted that he'd be fine sleeping on the couch. It didn't take very long for the brunette to drift off as soon as her head hit the pillow, the exhaustion in her bones finally taking hold of her and dragging her into a dreamless slumber.

The next day starts off rather uneventfully. The Wheeler home was rather unfazed by the sudden appearance of Steve Harrington, despite Mr.Wheeler's griping about yet another mouth to feed. After a brief phone call, Max is on their doorstep and ready to meet the rest of the band.

"Nancy, Red is here!" Mike called, receiving a glare from the girl in question. As Nancy and Steve turned the corner, the younger girl regarded the man with suspicion, if the scowl on her face was any indication.

"Who's this dude?" She asked, crossing her arms. Nancy rolled her eyes affectionately at the girl and patted the man's shoulder.

"This dude is Steve Harrington," she smirked, "Also known as Griz."

Max's jaw dropped as her eyes darted between Nancy's smug smirk and Steve's wide, boastful smile.

"So," Steve started mirthfully, "you're the Max I've been hearing so much about."

The girl spluttered for a moment before she extended her hand, "Yes, sir, I'm Max. I'm a huge fan of your work. Seriously, I've memorized almost your entire discography."

The drummer chuckled before ruffling the girl's head as he moved towards the door.

"Well then, let's get a move on, Mad Max."

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reuinx · 3 years

Text

Jealousy (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: Yelena has wanted to keep your relationship a secret, especially from Natasha. A party is a perfect opportunity for you to taunt her using Wanda Maximoff.

Word Count: 2,468

Translations: Printsessa (Princess), Krasivaya (Beautiful)

Yelena has kept you a secret for a while now, and she prefers it that way. As she suspected Natasha was becoming suspicious of your relationship, she instructed you both to cool it. Well, if you could even call it that. With her, you never knew where you stood. Many things with Yelena weren't clear to you. There was no way of knowing how she felt about you, what she was thinking, or what she would do next. You knew, however, that you were hopelessly in love with her.

Yelena had asked you to keep your distance from her, but that did not mean you couldn't have some fun, right? If she wasn't willing to commit, then why should you? You found yourself at an outdoor party during the summer heat. It was the usual thing for people to show off their cars. The speakers in the truck of an expensive vehicle blared music. You were beckoned by Natasha, who was sitting on the bonnet of her blue BMW X3 SUV as the cars were parked in a circle. You approached her without much caution. If you become nervous, it would be more evident that something was going on between you and Yelena if you avoided her.

"Mommy and Daddy let you bring the car, huh?" You called out playfully as Natasha shot you a look of disapproval, patting the bonnet beside her. As you climbed up beside her, you stared out at the familiar faces drinking, chatting, and dancing.

"Very funny. I see you didn't bring my sister" Natasha reached for a Budweiser, biting the cap with her teeth as she twisted it open while looking straight ahead.

"Why would I bring Yelena?" Your voice was laced with nervousness as you asked. You and Yelena have always been friends before all of that happened!

"Why wouldn’t you?" Natasha responded. During your attempts to assemble your thoughts, everything always went back to Yelena. What did she mean by that?

"A peace offering," Natasha offered as she handed you the Budweiser. Yelena wasn't going to like you drinking, she established how you were a lightweight, but there are no rules anymore; you might as well break them all. Fuck it. Without hesitation, you raised the beer bottle to your lips and took a sip of the crisp as she smiled at you, interrupting your chance to speak.

"For what?" What was she talking about?

"Fucking my sister," She said nonchalantly as you choked on your beer as you were in the middle of drinking. She gently slapped your back while leaning across to help you breathe again.

"I..I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?"

"No."

"Huh, that's funny."

"What is?"

"The walls are paper thin. I can hear everything, and I mean everything. Especially your name being moaned-"

"I get it, I get it!"

"I'm guessing El didn't want me to know?"

"She doesn't want anyone to know."

"I've known. I see how she looks at you. She always looks at you like you're the only one in the room. It's cute but she is my little sister so I will be teasing her about it in the near future."

"That obvious?"

"Very"

"She's just keeping me as a little secret for now, I guess."

"You'll have to change that now, won't you?" As the familiar engine rumbled in the distance, Natasha teased you. When Yelena's car was brought to your attention, you and Natasha both drank simultaneously.

"Speaking of the devil," Natasha commented against her drink. As Yelena's arm hung out the window, the yellow Mustang made its grand entrance. Her car stood out like a sore thumb, attracting everyone's attention. Especially yours.

"The one and only" As you shook your head, you climbed off the bonnet slowly, feeling eyes on you already, but they weren't just Yelena's. The eyes of a stranger caught your attention - a girl with auburn hair and green eyes.

"Oh hey! The beer trick with the teeth? Don't try that. You'll probably smash your teeth considering you can barely walk and chew gum at the same time." Natasha grins widely as she calls after you.

"Noted!" Your voice filled with laughter as you acknowledged your clumsiness. As you lifted the beer to your lips, you took a sip. As you watched from the corner of your eye, Yelena had climbed out of the Mustang. Her blonde hair was perfectly straightened between her shoulder blades. Her makeup was applied perfectly. She had a red dress that looked like it belonged in a Lana Del Rey music video. It clung firmly to every curve of her body. There was no doubt in her mind that she was sexy. Dressed up for your attention and your attention only. Without hesitation, Yelena made her way to you and yearned for your gaze, but you declined her.

That didn't sit well with her at all. To get a reaction from her, you would do anything you could to get her to want you. While you walked past her, you tipped your head back and continued to drink. While walking, she looked over her shoulder to see where you were going. To sulk beside Natasha, of course. When you approached the auburn-haired girl, she gave you a look of surprise. As she slowly tilted her head at you, she adjusted her red leather jacket.

"Maximoff.. Wanda Maximoff" She introduced herself to you, her eyes fluttering as she did so. Her smile was soft but loving, and her eyes were friendly but held a wicked streak behind them.

"I'm-"

"I know who you are, beautiful. I've been paying attention, especially to your little blonde girlfriend. The Belova girl, Yelena right?" Wanda commented as her eyes flickered towards Yelena, who was sitting beside Natasha on the bonnet, observing every move you made. You glanced over your shoulder at Yelena, who was mouthing something to Natasha: "What's she looking at?" referring to Wanda.

"That would be her."

"It seems she doesn't like me that much now?" The corner of Wanda's lips curled into a smirk; she didn't seem to mind.

"She'll get over it."

"Me and Natasha go way back. She's already given me the run down on Belova. She's just hung up on you that she realizes I'm not a threat… unless I want to be," Wanda teased you as you raised your eyebrow at her.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm. Want me to put on a show for you?"

"Tempted"

"Come on then" Wanda extended her hand for you to take, and you put your hand into hers. It did not feel right when it wasn't Yelena's hand, but it was worth it to see her reaction. To be closer to the music, you followed her into the clearing. As you giggled, she spun you on the spot, holding the bottle to your lips as you finished it. They seemed to be enjoying themselves to the fullest, with Wanda in on it with Natasha.

Playfully, you wrapped your arm around Wanda's neck as your eyes fluttered to Yelena. Uncomfortably, she had now shifted on the bonnet. While watching the scene play out before her, she tightened her lips. She began to bite the inside of her mouth impatiently. She hated the idea of anyone touching you. Anyone that wasn't her. Yelena's face showed an expression you had never seen before, she was openly jealous of what was happening in front of her eyes.

"I'll give her three seconds before she comes over….one…two…." As Wanda leaned in slowly, she whispered to you, pulling you closer to her. Her breath was close to your lips, too close. From behind, you felt arms wrap around your stomach, tugging you back from the girl with the Auburn hair. You knew who it was by her gentle touch. Yelena. Your Yelena.

"I've got it from here, Maximoff" In response, Yelena snapped at Wanda, who clapped in surrender, bursting out in laughter.

"I was only teasing, Belova. Play nice now," Wanda playfully spoke as she made her way over to Natasha. They high-fived one another as Wanda climbed up on the bonnet beside her.

"You can look but you can't touch, Maximoff."

"Who said I was only going to look, Belova?" Playfully sticking her tongue out, Wanda added fuel to the fire.

"I did." Yelena explained each word laced with her accent before turning her attention to you. Now you're in for it.

"Drinking and chatting up Maximoff now? Haven't I taught you any better?" Yelena's question was directed at you now.

"Seems you haven't."

"Have you forgotten who you belong to, Printsessa?"

"I don't belong to anyone."

"Is that so?"

"According to you, "I don't belong to anyone," You replied bubbly; Your eyes peered up at the green-eyed girl whose lips parted. Observing her tense face, you could tell she was not happy with what you did. Your body was equipped with enough alcohol to make you brave.

"What are you going to do about it, Yelena Belova?" As she scowled at your sudden words, taken aback by your approach, you taunted her. Yelena didn't respond; she remained silent.

"Nothing, you'll do nothing" You rolled your eyes at her, turning on the heels of your shoes as you walked away from her once again.

"I'll show you what I'm going to do about it." Yelena finally spoke, snapping out at you as she quickly caught up to you. Now she was high on adrenaline. When she grabbed your arm, she spun you around so that you faced her. Alcohol could not save you from the intimidation you felt. She leaned in quickly, shoving her lips against yours, grasping your cheek with her hand.

As your body pressed up against hers in need, you swooned at her sudden movement. Lips moving in perfect sync. You craved her; you craved this. It caught you by surprise when Wanda and Natasha started cheering. Your face turned red as you pulled away from Yelena's lips. She whispered in your ear quietly with her lipstick now smudged.

"Lets go somewhere else. I want you to myself tonight. All mine." Her voice was alluring as you nodded at her. She grabbed your hand, tugging you over to her car. As you looked at Natasha, who gave you a thumbs up, you smiled widely. Once you reached the Mustang, Yelena put you in the passenger side, ensuring you secure your seatbelt. Before closing the door and climbing into the driver's seat, she made sure you were safe.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see" While starting the car, she spoke in a calm and collected manner. The rumbling of the engine begins to soothe you. As you both left the party, you rested your head against the window and gazed out.

"Natasha knows by the way," You muttered.

"I know. I told her before the party but she already had an idea because she could hear us through-"

"The thin walls, she said." Laughing, you finished her sentence as your face turned red with embarrassment. As the world around you began to fade into darkness, you both sat in comfortable silence.

"El?"

"Hm?"

"I forgot to tell you… well.. not that I forgot to tell you but you're beautiful."

"I'm glad you noticed."

"Of course, I noticed. I always notice."

"I was too busy looking at you, Krasivaya." She explained to you as you suddenly turned to face her, your eyes studying her face as she smiled at you. The sight of her filled your heart with joy. As you quickly glanced out the window, you frowned at the sight of where she had taken you. She took the keys out, climbed out, and opened the door as she made her way to you. Suddenly, you felt breathless and scrambled out. You were both alone, just you and her. Her parking spot was elevated so that you could see the night sky from a greater height. You joined her on the bonnet of her car, leaning back as you stared up at the stars in delight.

"Jealous of Wanda then?" You called out to Yelena, who was getting comfortable on the bonnet; she suddenly darted her eyes at you with the sudden mention.

"Me? Jealous? Please."

"So you won't mind if I go back and just happen to dance with her again then?"

"Don't." The tone of her voice was stern and direct, but you took it as a challenge.

"Why not?"

"Jealous doesn't even describe what I felt. You got lucky."

"I got lucky?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"If you continued your little act you were going to be put in the backseat of my car and I was going to show you who you belong to infront of everyone."

"Maybe that's exactly what I wanted"

"Maybe I should have made that a reality then but you would've enjoyed it too much," She explained as she broke out in a chuckle; the way she laughed made you fall in love with her all over again. She slowly climbed off the bonnet as you gulped, your eyes studying her every movement. She made her way to the front of the car, pressing her knees against the registration plate.

She grabbed your legs, pulling you forward as she stood between them. Her green eyes were wild as they gazed at you; you leaned back ever so slightly so she could tower over you. She liked being in control, and you gave it up so quickly for her. She studied your face; what was she thinking about? You could tell she was lost in thought. Maybe this was your time to ask her?

"Yelena?"

"Huh?" You caught her by surprise as she rapidly blinked; she carefully rested her hands on your thighs as she waited for you question. How you approached it made her nervous, you could tell. The lines on her face had become apart as she frowned at you. For once, she didn't know what you were going to say.

"Why did you keep "us" a secret?" Her entire face changed the moment you asked. As if relief had suddenly overtaken her. As she had difficulty managing her words, she shut her eyes and tried to manage her frown.

"I don't know..I guess.."

"You guess?"

"I guess I was afraid."

"Yelena Belova afraid? I doubt that."

"I'm being serious." Her voice wasn't as bubbly as usual, but it had a sincere tone to it.

“Afraid of what?"

"To fall in love with you." Her hands were adjusted off your thighs so that she could play with the rings. When she played with her rings, you knew she was nervous. She twirled her rings around her fingers. Since making things official made them real to her, she was afraid that the end result of all this would be hurting you.

"And now?" While you traced your eyes across the beautiful blonde nearby, you questioned nervously. As you watched her slowly turn toward you, you suddenly gulped. She was nervous; it was nice that it was the other way around.

"It's too late I've already fallen."

628 notes · View notes

griffintail · 3 years

Text

The Sister’s Return

Summary: (Y/N) has reunited with her family with Dream’s looming threat...

Pairings: SBI x Sister! Reader

Warnings: Minor Fight scene, mentions of blood, mentions of past manipulation and present manipulation

A/N: This is a part two to The Sister’s Happiness

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

(Y/N) hesitated outside the tundra home as Techno went up to the house first.

“You promise he’s not mad?” (Y/N) whispered to Tommy.

“He…was mad for a while,” Tommy admitted. “We all were. It took us all a little while after…what he did to me to forgive you.”

A crow swooped into the window as Techno looked at the younger pair as Ghostbur hummed floating into the house.

“Phil! We found little note!” Ghostbur announced, making (Y/N) wince hearing her brother’s old nickname for her.

“Play the song again please Wilbur?” The twelve-year-old girl begged as Wilbur looked down at his guitar.

“Mmh, only if you sing it with me. My throat’s getting tired.”

It was a lie. He just liked singing with his less annoying youngest sibling.

“Ok.”

“Here we go little note.” He smiled, giving a small strum to his guitar.

“Even if he was mad, you can’t hide now.” Tommy huffed, following after.

(Y/N) looked down at Fran, who had followed them all the way, before walking up to the house with shaky legs. Before she even got to the door, Phil came out, a soft smile on his face.

“You’re ok.” Phil laughed quietly before coming over and taking her shoulders gently as she froze. “I’m so sorry angel. I-I should have been there and I’m sorry.”

“Daddy’s girl.” Tommy mocked from the top of the stairs.

He really hadn’t changed after everything.

“It’s ok Phil, I should be saying sorry, I—”

“No, it’s alright. Let’s get you inside.” Phil told her, looking around the area before putting a hand on her shoulder.

He led her in now, Fran trotting in behind them. Once the door closed, (Y/N) had a feeling she hadn’t felt since she had been with…Dream. She…felt at home…

Ghostbur floated as he hummed, taking some potions off a brewing stand as Techno rested his axe on the wall next to the door as he went to stop Tommy, who was already digging through his chests. Phil went to help with potion brewing as (Y/N) stood there.

She felt like a stranger though.

“Just because I’m letting you back in my house, does not mean you can dig through my things.” Techno scolded Tommy as he pulled him away.

“Come on blade. If I’m going to help, I need some gear.”

“You have your own gear and Dream’s gear!”

“Technically Tubbo has half his gear!” Tommy pointed at him.

“Come on Techno, don’t you want to help your favorite siblings?” (Y/N) grinned motioning to a sixteen-year-old Tommy, who put an arm around her.

“Yeah, big man! Just a few things for the poor?” Tommy motioned to a fifteen-year-old (Y/N).

Techno rolled his eyes at his siblings' shared mischievous grins. He knew he should have hung out with (Y/N) more, Tommy had been too much of an influence on her.

“You think there will be a fight?” (Y/N) asked, everyone, looking at her.

“Yes.” Phil nodded. “I got a message that…he wasn’t very happy you were moving on without him around.”

“You can say his name. It doesn’t affect me as much anymore.” (Y/N) told him quietly.

“Good because Dream is a bastard and we’re going to beat him again.” Tommy cheered. “The Sleepy Bois and their little sister are back!”

(Y/N) smiled lightly and Tommy froze slightly, surprised by the smile. “Yeah, we are back.”

Tommy stood there before grinning as he came over, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah! Look out bitches!”

“Fucking pricks.” (Y/N) followed suit.

“We’ll show them who’s the best!”

“And have whatever we want!”

(Y/N) actually gave a laugh after they recited the bit they always use to do. Tommy was grinning widely. He had missed his sister.

“Fuck yeah!” He punched the air.

“Alright you little bastards, get your gear somewhere you can get to it quickly,” Techno told them.

“I got an ender chest in my old room, come on.” Tommy let go of (Y/N) before sliding down the ladder.

She followed after him, Fran making home next to the fireplace.

“We’re not going to actually make (Y/N) fight with us, are we?” Phil asked, not wanting his youngest to be around the masked man again.

“No. Ghostbur,” Techno said, the ghost zoning back into the conversation.

“Yes, Technoblade?” Ghostbur smiled.

“Why don’t you tell (Y/N) what you remember? She hasn’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh yes! That’s a very good idea Technoblade!” He nodded before following after the younger pair.

“You got crows scouting?” Techno asked.

“I’m not idiot Techno.” Phil gave a joking scoff. “I’ve been doing this longer than you.”

“Good. Then let’s get ready.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow around the odd room as Tommy went to the ender chest, pulling out a few pieces of gear.

“So, this is where you went when you went missing.” (Y/N) muttered.

Tommy paused, gripping the edge of the chest lightly. “Please don’t talk about that.”

“Oh shit.” She put her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry Tommy. I—Shit.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t do anything during that time it was all Dream,” Tommy said, putting his armor and weapons on his bed. “We just need to be able to read each other again too I suppose.”

“Well…after everything you still seem like you so I don’t think that will be too hard.” (Y/N) tried to lighten the tone.

“I’ve changed a lot! I’m a bigger man.” Tommy crossed his arms at his sister.

“Sure.” She teased.

“Alright, listen here you prick.” Tommy started until Ghostbur floated down.

“(Y/N)! We haven’t talked in so long, we should talk.” Ghostbur said to her excitedly.

“I uh. Sure. If you want to Ghostbur, I just…” She looked at Tommy’s gear. “We got a thing to possibly do.”

“Well, if it’s only possible we have some time.” Ghostbur grinned as he took her hand, making her shiver at the cold contact.

“Oi. Ghostbur, let her get her things first.” Tommy told off the ghost.

“Oh, ok. Get your things.”

(Y/N) went into the ender chest, taking out her armor, bow, and sword.

“Is that your old bow?” Tommy looked at it surprised.

“Yeah…I put a mending enchant on it before we got your discs back.” (Y/N) grinned. “So, it’s still in action.”

“…I think it will be perfect for fighting Dream with again.”

She paused before nodding; the grin still wide on her face. “I think so too. We’ll fuck up his shit again.”

Tommy nodded, deep in thought for a minute.

“Hey, Ghostbur, wait up there for her, she’ll be there in a minute,” Tommy told the ghost.

“Ok!”

He floated up the ladder again and Tommy shifted awkwardly for a moment.

“Did you…did you like doing all that stuff with him?”

(Y/N) gripped onto the bow, taking a shaky breath.

“I thought I did. I told myself I did…but every time I saw your face…I hated it. But he told me…he told me it was for the better and I believed him.”

“We’re what’s best for you because you’re our family, and don’t forget it, alright prick?” Tommy crossed his arms, looking away.

“Thanks, Tommy.” She smiled lightly. “I won’t.”

She went to leave but he stopped her again.

“Hey, if you…want to talk about it too, I get it,” Tommy said quietly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She nodded.

Then she finally went up the ladder, Tommy passing through the room quickly to go to the main room, and Ghostbur held out a piece of blue to her the second she got up.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” She took it.

“There’s so much to talk about! Techno said we should talk about what I remember. I remember a few things about you!” He grinned, clapping his hands together. “You use to sing music for me and I wouldn’t make fun of you for being a child because you could be really mature.”

“Oh…you don’t remember a lot of things?” She asked, sitting.

“No, but that’s ok. I remember a lot of happy things!”

“So…you don’t remember Dream and me?”

“Mmh, I remember thinking about how nice it was to see you next to Dream when we were making L’Manberg, even though I thought about how unhappy you looked.”

(Y/N) stared at the wall as she stood to the back of the group. Wilbur was at the top, looking down at her in shock and she looked away.

“I would like to know though Dream, how you managed to get my little sister on your side.”

“She saw past your stupidity.” Dream answered simply.

He’ll just use you for power.

Dream’s voice echoed in her head, making her jaw clench.

“Alivebur didn’t think you and Dream were very good friends. He often scolded Tommy if he brought it up.” Ghostbur hummed, before whispering to her. “Dream is a bit of a bad guy.”

“Yeah…yeah, he is Ghostbur. That’s why me and him aren’t friends.”

“Oh, that’s a shame, but now you can hang out with us again!”

(Y/N) thought about the times she had caught Wilbur’s glare across a battlefield or simply across the open area. She had thought he hated him but had he suspected something was wrong?

…

“She’s a bitch now! Fuck her!” Tommy shouted at Wilbur.

“Don’t say that about her Tommy.” Wilbur snapped. “She…looks so unhappy. Dream holds too much power, we can’t get to her easy, we need to figure something out to get to her.”

…

“What the hell did you guys let happen to (Y/N)?” Techno motioned to above the ravine where Pogtopia was stationed.

They had just run and his own little sister had just tried to hunt them down with the rest of the mob of Manberg citizens. Her downfall though was Techno had taught her himself. Yet, there was just such a cold look in her eyes…

“She did it to herself.” Tommy scoffed.

“I don’t know, I haven’t been able to talk to her in a few years. I can’t get her alone no matter what I tried, that’s not the problem right now.” Wilbur paced.

Techno thought it was a huge fucking problem though and decided he needed to figure out what was going on, on his own.

…

Techno heard the crow before it flew through the window. It gave a flap of its wings to Phil and Phil nodded, looking outside.

“He’s close by.”

The pair had managed to get (Y/N) alone and they had seen through the façade when they talked to her and tried to subtly get it out of her. They thought they could get another chance when she left but then Butcher Gang came and Dream visited Techno’s home.

Sure, they had been mad about her betraying their trust by telling people where Techno’s home was but when Tommy came to them, they weren’t mad for long. They were the first to understand what must have happened to her as well.

Phil put on his last bit of armor as Tommy came up to them, paling slightly.

“He’s here already?”

“He’s close.” Techno nodded. “Get ready, we’re not taking (Y/N).”

Tommy hesitated but nodded. He didn’t want Dream near his sister again. As the young boy put all his gear on, Techno picked up his axe with his crossbow on his back and Phil grabbed his own bow. He managed his gear on when Techno saw Dream walking through the snow.

“Let’s go.” Techno nodded.

The three went out, weapons at the ready and Dream grinned behind his mask.

“Sorry Dream. I don’t do charity cases for the homeless, gonna need you to leave.” Techno told him, shouldering his axe.

“Are we really going to go through this again Techno? Are you going to talk to your voices again too?” Dream laughed. “I know you have what I want. So, either, send her out now, or I’ll kill all of you.”

“You can try, you green bastard, but I finished you once! I’ll do it again!” Tommy shouted.

“But here I am Tommy! You can’t stop me. I got out of prison and now here I am. Back again!” Dream took a step forward and Phil aimed his bow. “You won’t, no, you can’t kill me, Tommy. Come on, we were friends, weren’t we?”

Techno put the axe in front of his brother as Phil shot the arrow in front of Dream when Tommy’s breathing picked up slightly.

“You’re not getting anyone today,” Phil told him. “So, we’re going to give you one chance to say you failed and leave.”

Dream merely smirked behind his mask before going straight for Techno. With ease, Techno blocked the sword with his arm, the sword sparking on his armor before Techno swung his axe right for Dream’s side and the masked man jumped back.

“A fight it is then.” Techno grinned, the voices going into a chant.

Tommy pulled his sword and Phil switched for his sword as well. The fight was on.

…

“What else do you remember?” (Y/N) asked the ghost. “About…me.”

“You were an awful lot like Tommy but you could calm down and be little note with me.” Ghostbur smiled. “It was always nice seeing you and Tommy play together though. And when you two become friends with Tubbo, it was meant to be really. It always made Alivebur smile and it makes me smile too!”

“It seems a lot of things make you smile though Ghostbur.” She laughed quietly.

“But there’s so many wonderful things we get to do and see!”

(Y/N) smiled lightly. Ghostbur seemed to be all the good things about Wilbur…but she missed the bad stuff of her brother…

Both the ghost and she jumped though when they heard the sound of fireworks.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Ghostbur muttered, taking out a piece of blue.

(Y/N) leapt up, as she now could hear the cawing of the crows and metal on metal. Dream was here!

“Shit, shit, shit.” She panicked, throwing her armor on.

“(Y/N),” Ghostbur mumbled.

She looked at the ghost of her brother as she put her helmet on. A panic was in her eyes but there was the spark of a fire that brought good memories to Ghostbur. Memories of when she’d practice sword fighting and archery with Technoblade or when she’d scream at Tommy’s bullies or when she was taking lessons with Alivebur to learn guitar. He smiled lightly as he saw the real (Y/N) that had been missing.

“I love you.”

“…I love you too Ghostbur.” She gave a light smile before grabbing her one arrow, sword strapped to her side.

She got outside to see Techno loading his crossbow with another firework as Tommy was dodging a sword swing from Dream who had a cracked mask with slightly singed clothing while Phil was dashing to go in for a low blow. Everyone had minor wounds as armors had dents and scratches. (Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat as she gripped onto her bow before raising it.

“I never throw away my shot.” She muttered before letting the arrow fly.

It caught Dream’s mask and it flew off his mask. (Y/N)’s arrow reappeared on the bow as she pulled back, her infinity enchantment doing its work to bring her arrow back as though it was never gone even though it pinned Dream’s mask to the ground.

“STOP!” She commanded.

“(Y/N)!” Dream grinned ducking from Tommy’s sword swing before knocking the boy down, winding him as he parried Phil’s attack, pushing the older man back. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where have you been my friend?”

“Drop your sword!” She demanded.

“(Y/N), come on. It’s me, Dream.” He smiled.

She clenched her jaw as Techno looked between the pair as the other two of her family stayed where they were. Then she changed the direction of her bow and it snagged his pant leg, pinning the fabric to the ground as another arrow appeared in her bow.

“Leave my family alone.” She told him.

“Your family?” Dream laughed. “They haven’t tried to talk to you in almost three years! Now, they thought they had power over the two of us because I was locked away; they tried to use you! I broke out to save you.”

His voice was creeping back into the back of her mind as she gripped onto her bow.

“YOU BASTARD!” Tommy’s voice broke through the voice of Dream.

Dream hissed as Tommy snagged a weak point in his armor, drawing blood.

“How dare you say I’d use my sister!” He shouted, pushing the man back, jumping back as Techno quickly aimed his crossbow.

Dream dove out of the way as the firework went off where he had been.

“I won’t let you use my sister like a puppet.” Techno put his crossbow away to replace it with his axe.

An arrow landed in front of Dream’s face and (Y/N) pointed her bow to the ground.

“I never miss, so take the friendly warning. Leave and never speak to me again. Leave this land.”

“You…you can’t…” Dream gave a laugh.

“She can do whatever she wants mate,” Phil said, all three of them standing in front of (Y/N). “And you’ll have to go through us to even think about her. I suggest you leave.”

“You’ll regret this.” Dream spat at them before getting up and ender pearling away.

A weight was gone as (Y/N) teared up when the three looked over at her.

“Oh dear, you need some blue.” Ghostbur came out now and gave the girl a piece of blue.

“Thank you.” She sniffled wiping away her tears.

Tommy came over putting an arm around one side of her shoulders as Techno went on the other side as Phil put a hand on her head.

“We won!” Tommy cheered.

She had missed her family…

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #sbi x reader #tommyinnit x reader #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #ghostbur x reader

864 notes · View notes

the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Plum Cobbler

Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader

Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?

Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing

Word Count: 6315

a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.

Masterlist

Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.

Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?

"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.

The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.

"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.

"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.

"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?

"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.

"Why is she here?" Sam added on.

"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.

"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.

"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.

"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.

"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"

Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.

"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.

"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."

"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.

"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.

You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.

So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.

The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.

Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.

Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.

You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.

Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.

Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.

You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.

"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.

Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.

"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.

Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.

You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?

You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.

Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.

He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.

You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.

Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.

You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.

"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.

"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.

"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.

"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.

"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.

You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."

During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.

"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.

"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.

You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.

"Then please."

You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.

"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.

"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."

The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.

Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.

When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.

"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.

"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.

"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.

"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.

You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.

"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."

You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.

"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."

You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.

"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."

Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.

"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.

You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.

You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.

"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.

You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.

"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.

It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.

"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.

Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."

You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.

"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.

Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.

"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.

"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."

You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.

"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.

"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."

He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.

You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.

"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.

"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."

He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.

You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.

You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.

"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."

He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.

Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."

"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."

You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.

"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."

"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.

"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.

Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.

"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"

When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.

"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.

"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.

You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.

"Goodnight, Steve."

His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.

That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.

He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.

"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.

He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.

You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.

He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.

You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"

"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.

He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.

When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.

When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.

"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.

"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.

"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.

"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"

"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.

"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.

"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."

"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.

You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.

You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.

"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.

You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.

"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"

You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.

You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.

With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.

"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.

"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."

Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."

Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.

"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.

"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.

"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.

"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.

"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.

"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"

"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.

"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.

"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."

"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.

"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"

"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.

"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.

Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.

"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."

"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.

"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.

Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.

His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.

You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.

Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.

"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.

"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.

"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.

Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.

Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.

"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.

"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.

"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.

"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.

Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.

"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"

"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."

Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.

"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.

"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.

"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.

Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"

Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.

Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.

You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.

"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.

Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.

"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"

"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.

"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.

"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.

"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.

You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.

He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."

He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.

"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.

"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.

"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.

"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.

You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.

"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."

You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.

"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.

"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.

"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.

"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.

"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."

"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.

"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"

"Here?" He questioned.

"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."

You smiled, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.

"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."

"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.

A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.

"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.

You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.

He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."

You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."

The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.

Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."

"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."

"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."

It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.

"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.

"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.

Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."

You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.

Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x natasha #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #tony stark #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel fic #clint barton #Bucky Barnes x platonic!reader

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sanosimp · 3 years

Text

Friday Night Heat (18+)

It's my first work in a while so it's not much. Inspired by the tiktok I posted about wanting to do the pocket rocket trend with Wakasa Imaushi. (all characters are 18+. NSFW themes, read with caution)

It started with a simple invite.

From one friend to another. She had to go to Akashi's party, promising a crowd of people who’ll be celebrating graduation along with everyone else. Shinichiro begged you to come, and he volunteered to bring you since the two of you had been close friends, and at first, you were hesitant but with the promise of seeing a certain blonde, your ears reddened and all of a sudden Friday couldn't come sooner.

This is how your friendship worked with Shinichiro, he dragged you to places you wouldn’t go to just for the fun of it, much rather wanting to go home or next door to his house to watch movies. But the two of you were best friends and this is how things worked between you, and although you would never admit it to his face, you were grateful for it. He would go to you for girl advice or for help with babysitting and he gave you friends and a home and a family.

The promise of Wakasa showing up was a surprise but you knew Sano had no reason to lie to you about such matters. Typically Wakasa Imaushi avoids parties and social gatherings, much rather preferring small hangouts with a few close friends. But another rare occurrence at parties was seeing the face of his best friend and he knew well if Sano was going, the other might as well follow. You were a regular amongst the boys since you fit in with them and usually made the vibe of the group better, but at some point, he started quietly longing to get to know you and get closer to you. Shinichiro had picked up on it quickly, catching Waka on the occasion when his shoulders would tense at the mention of your name or the side glances he would sneak when you hung out with the boys on Fridays in the shop where you all would frequent after hours to destress and just hang out with friends. Shinichiro was eager to act as a wingman in any way possible knowing the other would need it with his quiet and reserved tendencies.

Eventually, the night was in full swing and when you and Shinichiro arrived, the house was packed and the music was blasting out the windows. It looked like a typical high school graduation party, red solo cups all over the place, people on top of each other and dancing freely, stress far away after hitting an important milestone in your lives. Sano led you down the stairs to the basement saying the others were hanging downstairs away from the majority but still involved in the scene. You saw all the familiar delinquents that frequented the Black Dragons and all the current members were tucked away in the corner by one of the couches.

You made your way down the stairs, following closely behind Shinichiro. You had made eye contact with Wakasa as he sent a smirk your way and raised his cup towards you in greeting. You smiled back and nodded you head in his direction before falling behind Sano again in attempt to keep up. Akashi was the first to greet them, a smile on his face and a beer in his hand, slugging an arm over Shinichiros shoulder and announcing your arrival to the rest. The others raised their glasses and let out a cheer as you let out a laugh as you all settled in. Benki had passed you a cup filled with something you weren't sure what as you thanked him. Shinichiro switched cups with you, trading whatever cup it was with a cup filled specifically only soda knowing it was your prefered choice in this type of setting.

The music was typical party anthems and you recognized a few, slowly falling into the vibe and getting comfortable. The atmosphere was a regular high school party you would imagine after graduation, but being downstairs surrounded by familiar faces felt comfortable in its own way. While you may not have known everyone's names or acquaintances, you did see many of these faces since it was common for delinquents in your area to crowd around Shinichiro and the Black Dragons.

You hadn't realized Shinichiro had snuck up behind you due to you observing the on-going scene. He pulled you close which caused you to jump and smack his shoulder as he let out a laugh and an apology in response. He got close to your ear in an attempt to let you hear him over the commotion of the party. "So, are you planning on making any moves or are you sulking like usual?" He knew the tension that surrounded you and one of his most trusted captains, after all he had been encouraging you for weeks on end to just go for it already, tired of you being the one to help him with his relationship issues and attempting to help you for once.

You let out a sigh and turned more to face him properly only to find that his focus wasn’t on you but rather on something, or someone, behind you. "No. You know how I am. I'd rather be shown..." "Interest before making any attempts blah blah blah. Yeah I know already." He finished your sentence with you after hearing your complaints many times before in the bike shop. "Well I don't know about you, but I'm trying to score tonight so if you'll excuse me." He lets go of you and sends a wink in your direction causing you to shove him and call him gross before he sauntered over to some girl you do not personally recognize.

Some time had passed as you had fallen into conversation with some of the boys about plans for the future now that you all had graduated high school. You weren't really paying attention, just listening and tuning into the overall surrounding atmosphere , which is probably why you hadn't felt someone grab your cup, placing it on a nearby table. You had turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of blonde hair before he had grasped your hips and turned you around completely, forcing you to come face to face with him.

"Relax, it's just me. I wont bite." You let out a sigh in relief, glad it was Imaushi and not some creep you didn't know. "You're the second person tonight to just come up and grab at me so sorry if I'm a little jumpy." His smile falters and he looks past you to where Shinichiro is currently leaning against the wall, towering over the petite female he is currently trying to win over. "Mmm, yeah I saw earlier." He looked back down to you and his hand that was resting on your shoulder now moved down towards your wrist as he grabbed you once again. "Come on, I wanna dance."

Giving you no time to respond he drags you behind him into the swarm of bodies not before hearing Akashi snicker under his breath. He finds a spot where he deems fit and spins you until your back is pressed upon his front. "Do you trust me?" His breath tickles your ear as you nod in confirmation. He takes the lead, placing his left hand on your waist. He guides you to fall into the tempo of the recently changed song as you gradually fall into it with him. He notices your demeanor faltering into a more relaxed and free version of yourself which he rarely sees.

He intertwines your right hand with his and raises your hands above your heads. He guides your hips into a forward backward pattern with his left hand that squeezes your side every so often in an attempt to set the pace. Every little touch had your senses in overload, hyper aware of every placement of his fingertips as you let him take complete control over the both of you. At some point, he feels confident enough to let go of your hip, still holding onto the intertwined one as you continue the pace he set for you. You continue to move until he brings his right arm around your waist as yours follows and settles on top of his as he pulls you closer with no space left in-between you now.

He pushes some hair from one side of your shoulder onto the other, exposing the soft skin of your neck where your dainty chain rests comfortably. He tugs on it lightly enough for you to feel then leans in to unexpectedly kiss the skin below your ear, eliciting a gasp from you as he blows the area he just came into contact with. Involuntarily, this causes you to lean more into him that you already were closing all remaining space till you share body temperature. Suddenly, the song changes and Wakasa lets go of you til you face him again completely. He smiles at you but his eyes are glossy and his pupils are wider despite knowing he's had nothing to drink.

He looks, to put it quite simply, pretty. His light blonde hair falls in whisps and there's a slight mist of sweat forming on his forehead from sharing contact with you surrounded by the many others in the house. He's always looked pretty handsome to you from afar but you've never had the opportunity to appreciate him up close and personal before.

"I wanna take you home with me. I have the apartment tonight. Only if you want to of course. I just..." and he stops mid-sentence, licking his lips in concentration. You meet his eyes and share a light smile with him, squeezing his wrist for silent encouragement. No words are spoken as he understands and leads u up the stairs and out of the house into the cool breeze which is much welcomed considering both of you needed the temperature change. He leads you to where he has his bike parked by the house and prompts you to sit behind him, guiding your arms to wrap around his waist in security.

To test the waters, you tighten your grip around him which causes him to sharply gasp for breath before starting the bike and taking off. You let out a giggle before leaning your forehead on his shoulder, this childlike attitude falling over the both of you. You easily recognize the route he's taking towards the apartment he shared with Arashi considering you have been there to hangout with the boys before. But this felt different, much different than the planned study sessions you all shared despite there hardly being any studying due to the constant bickering and toddler-like arguments that would take place. This time there was a mutual understanding between you and the boy you had longed for from a distance.

He had parked in the front and led you up the stairs all childlike and foolish. He opened the door as you both took off your shoes as courtesy. "Arashi told me most likely he was planning on crashing at Akashis place, meaning we have the apartment to ourselves til maybe about tomorrow morning." It sinks in suddenly that this is really happening, you're really with him right now, standing in his apartment, and fully placing your trust within him to do what he wants with you. He leads you to his room but you falter and stumble your steps when the realization hits, his grip on your wrist tightening to ensure you don't fall. He completely stops in his tracks and turns to face you now the most serious he's been all night. Your eyes meet his and neither of you are smiling anymore, the tension building as the tone is set differently for the moment. "Please tell me you want this. I don't wanna do anything you don't want to. We can stop right here and I'll take you home and nothing will have to change..."

His sentence is cut off when you place your hands on his face to center him on you only, cutting off him rambling. "Wakasa, I want this. I want you." There's a brief pause shared between the both of you before he smiles again as you caress your thumbs on his cheeks. He continues the pursuit to his room and lets you in first, guiding you inside before turning around and locking the door. In a moment, he's in front of you, hand cusping your neck towards him as he guides your lips to his with no hesitation. Lips meeting yours unexpectedly in a crushing kiss, kidnapping all the air in your lungs within seconds. It was unmistakably him as you reached up, fingertips meeting the soft long strands of his hair on his neck.

He was a good kisser that was for sure, knowing that this certainly wasn't his first as he led you through the familiar room. His previous experience might've intimidated you if he wasn't distracting you at the moment, so intent on running his hands down your body. With one hand on your waist to guide you and the other in the back pocket of your jeans to keep you close, hands reached around his neck and gently tugged on a strand of hair which prompted him to groan. You committed this noise to memory due to the chill that ran down your back after hearing it. You became intent on hearing this noise again as he decided to progress towards his bed, walking backwards until the back of his knees hit the frame.

He pulled back to take in your disheveled state, ponytail a mess and lips swollen. The childlike atmosphere came back, the both of you sharing a smile before fingers gripped the edge of your shirt as you pulled it over your head as he did the same. He seemed distracted so you took the opportunity to establish the lead with a welcomed boost of confidence. Letting out a brief laugh, you proceeded to shove him into the bed until he was laying flat down on the mattress. You straddle him as you sit upon his lap, taking a moment to appreciate his appearance from under you. He reached up and tugged the hair-tie setting your hair free, placing the hair-tie around his own wrist as your eyes traveled from his wrist to the rest of his skin.

You noticed the few bruises that were on his arms and neck and chest which were temporary trophies from his well fought battles with the rest of the gang. You traced over a few with the light graze of your fingers, a soft smile on your face as you sat upon his lap, running your thumbs over his collarbones. "One night of you to myself huh?" He huffed in response and his eyes met yours. "Well it depends. If you blow my mind, one might turn to two then three. The ultimate goal here is to have you under my arm as my girlfriend if you'll have me" He looked up at you and teasingly dug his fingers into your sides which caused you to giggle and squirm under his touch, giggles escaping with pleas for mercy.

He then sat up and kissed you much softer this time and bites your bottom lip, sitting chest to chest. You had often imagined a scenario somewhat close to this before considering how long you've admired him from a distance, afraid to ruin a friendship that you've come to actually enjoy. He flipped you both over to take the lead as his lips began to wander and explore the expanse of your skin, teeth grazing the skin of your neck, causing you gasp. Rising your body off the soft comforter to meet with his but was cut short as his hands pin your hips to the bed. He took his time biting and marking and teasing, paying special attention to any part that would make you involuntary moan or sigh. You knew tomorrow you might have issues with your shared circle of friends since they would notice the marks. You then made it a promise to return the favor by giving him a few marks of your own, evidence to your own testimonial of truth.

You never would've thought to see yourself in this position. He drew you out of any thoughts you were having as his lips began to wander down more, lips touching skin of collar bones, chest, lowering down to where the button of your jeans rested. You sat up on your elbows, resting to take in the view below you and pushed some of his hair out of the way of his eyes. He looked up at you with a childish look in his eyes, eyelashes playfully fluttering against the skin of your tummy. He laid his cheek on the denim of the jeans as his fingers played with the button, looking up silently waiting for what he wanted. He waited to hear from you directly what you wanted, teasing you as the seconds passed, wanting words, pleas, whimpers, anything from you that would set him ablaze.

You let out a whine of his name which prompted him to finally pull at the button, fully exposing you to him by taking off everything left at once. After shimmying your hips in assistance, he runs his hands on the outer parts of the soft skin of your thighs, guiding you to lock your ankles behind him. He continues his adventure with your skin, placing frequent kisses along the inside of your thighs sitting comfortably on both sides of his head. You completely fall back into the bed, collapsing amongst the pillows and attempting to catch your breath as you throw an arm over your eyes and place your other hand back into his hair.

He gets to work and finally has a taste and your hips rise from the bed towards him. He guides you to rest against the bed once again, and the hand in his hair gently tugs, eliciting a groan from him which shoots straight through you as you gasp at his reactions. He pulls back and looks at you again, peaking at you and licking his lips.

"You taste amazing. You're doing so good for me tonight princess."

His words almost send you over the edge as you drag him up once again to kiss him, moaning into the kiss and overwhelmed with everything happening all at once. Your hands wander down his spine, teasing your nails into his skin every so often which causes him to grind into reminding you that he hasn't fully shed his clothing. You make quick work of fixing that as he helps you and pulls away when you both have fully been exposed to the other. He smiles gently again and your hand caresses his check. "You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Ahhhh!!! I had to write this TWICE cause Tumblr deleted everything the first time. The ending was ehh but let me know if you liked it <3

#tokyo revengers #imaushi wakasa #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa imaushi smut #wakasa smut #wakasa headcanons #sano shinichiro #tokyorev #wakasa imaushi imagine #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #black dragons #wakasa imaushi

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 8

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

It has come to a point where you can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t care for her.

All the time you spend with Cassandra every evening has made certain feelings impossible to deny, though you are too scared to name them all.

You don’t name the smile you can’t contain when she excitedly pulls you to the armory to show you her collection of blades –and explains, in a very animated fashion, about the optimal use for each one. You don’t want to know what the stutter in your heartbeat means, every time she genuinely laughs, pale neck thrown back, nose slightly scrunched and all.

And it’s not just Cassandra you grow a tad closer to.

Bela comes to you whenever the two of them have argued and goes ‘Tell my sister’ this or that. Daniela is apparently not allowed within a twenty meter radius of you, but she approaches to poke and prod at you whenever she wants to annoy Cassandra. She never manages to do either, because the middle sister always swoops in, fuming, dragging her away by the hood of her robes like a kitten.

Lady Dimitrescu is the only one as distant as the day you first saw her –and it’s probably for the better. You don’t see her much, anyway, not with how Cassandra takes you to empty castle wings to have you all to herself.

Tonight is different.

After dinner, Bela leaves with her mother and you go to help the other maids present clean the table. But your lover steps in the way and grabs your elbow, instead, hurriedly pulling you along.

“Do not tell me you’re seriously thinking to make me wait longer.” she says.

Of course, you promised to watch a movie you found on your phone with her and she’s been buzzing with impatience since.

That is, until a certain redhead blocks your way.

“Daniela, move.” Cassandra huffs.

“What are you doing? Take me with you.” the younger sister replies, brimming with childlike curiosity.

“No. Go bother Bela.” A shooing motion is made.

“Bela’s no fun. I wanna come with you and Alexia.” she drops your name so casually it’s startling.

“Wait give me a moment to think about it –moment over. No.” Cassandra states, fast.

But Daniela shoots forward and grabs your arm like a koala. Your eyes go wide at the same time as Cassandra’s, for different reasons.

The brunette immediately grips her sister’s robes, none-too-gently. “Don’t touch her, she’s mine!”

“If you don’t take me along I’m telling mother where you found that music player and phone!” Daniela answers, her hold enough to cut off your blood flow.

You send Cassandra a pleading look before they break your arms with how they’re tugging at you.

“On one condition.” the elder sister holds a finger up to her sibling’s face. “You sit next to me and you don’t move around.”

“…she’s warm, though.” Daniela says, all but pouting. “Mother says sharing is caring~”

“Find your own human.” Cassandra growls out as the three of you make your way to the main hall and the couch adjacent to the fireplace there.

“You and Bela have gotten the prettier ones!”

“You snooze, you lose.”

Cassandra quite literally pins you to the arm of the couch with her body, to keep Daniela as far away from you as possible. Even as the movie starts, you can feel her sulking by your neck for not being able to touch you the way she wants.

You are not as focused on the movie as you are cute way she plays with your hand throughout its duration.

It’s getting harder and harder to remind yourself of what they are.

Especially when, ten minutes after the credits have rolled, Daniela is still crying over the death of the protagonist. Even Bela comes to the hall and asks Cassandra what she did to her.

By the time she’s done dealing with her sisters, your lover comes to you sporting a headache.

“We’re leaving this wing right now.” Cassandra says and that is about all the warning you get.

The next second you feel a rush of air and your stomach leaping to where your heart is supposed to be; Your eyes only make out a blur and an augur of black flies.

When she comes to a halt you crash into Cassandra’s side with a gasp. Your arm aches from the pull. The world spins for ten solid seconds.

She laughs by your ear. Low and satisfied as it is at your disorientation –it reminds you of drinking wine by a fire in the heart of winter— you can’t help but bask in the timbre of her voice so close.

“Ugh, why is it so cold in here?” she complains in that same quiet tone you love.

It is very cold compared to the more lived in parts of the castle, but your body is warm enough from your sustained proximity and the rush of adrenaline she always causes in you.

“Oh, well, I can bear it for a little while if it means we won’t be interrupted.” Cassandra trails off and lifts your chin with a chilled finger.

Your lips meet and slide together in a practiced tango. Her manicured nails run over your throat and shoulders, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the temperature.

Both of you are starting to get really into it when Cassandra walks you back into the nearest wall. It happens to be a window, covered by a flimsy curtain. You have half a mind to realize it’s probably been forgotten slightly ajar, judging from the frost that graces your shoulder, but you have more important matters to focus on, like the brush of her tongue over your bottom lip.

Until Cassandra braces her bare hand over the unseen opening, to box you in like she usually does.

And-

She shrieks.

She jerks away so powerfully her back crash-lands into the painting on the far wall, knocking it down with its frame broken. You’re left there still and mute, watching in frozen horror as her face distorts into pure, raw anguish.

“Shut it!” Cassandra screams at you. “Shut it now, now!”

Your nerves suddenly kick into overdrive and you pull the window closed like your life depends on it.

What just… happened...?

In slow, cautious steps, you approach her. She’s clutching her hand like a wounded animal, baring its teeth to hide its vulnerability. It is the first time you see her like this. Void of control, bent over in hurt. Gasping.

Something in your chest breaks.

You look at her hand, to find her pale skin nearly crystallized, grey and breaking apart —like cheap china, like weak porcelain— into flies that drop to the floor, faintly twitching.

You thought… you thought they could just control the insects. That dissipating into swarms was just a trick allowed by their mutation. But now you realize, the flies are her body.

All this time trapped under the looming terror of the daughters… and escape was as easy as opening a window on them.

“Cassandra…?” you ask in a wavering voice when the initial burst of rage leaves her form.

She looks up at you, torn, when you hear the heavy sound of heels rapidly approaching.

“Cassandra?!” a different voice calls, this time, deep and authoritative. When Lady Dimitrescu rounds the corner in her immense height, your instincts scream to run.

But one look at Cassandra makes you stay.

Alcina halts for a moment to take in the scene. Then her lips curl downwards and bladed claws extend from her gloves, easily half your body in length.

Oh my… God…

“What did you do to my daughter?!” she demands and advances on you, but Cassandra gets in front of you before she can truly threaten your life.

“I brought her here, mother. It’s my fault.” she hurries to explain.

Alcina stares at you like she wants to crush you underfoot… but then softens, somewhat, at the look her daughter is giving her.

“Come with me. Now.” She says in a stern motherly tone that leaves no room for objections.

You clutch Cassandra’s uninjured hand, silently asking if she’ll be alright. She turns, looks at you for a moment, then nudges your head with hers.

“...I’ll see you later, Alexia.”

But, as it turns out... “later” is subjective.

In Alcina’s Private Chambers…

It is not often that Cassandra is reprimanded by herself.

She has never before been the only one at fault. She’s used to having her sisters beside her while Alcina scolds the three of them… except this time they’re outside the closed door and she is there to face their mother’s ire alone.

She can’t stay still under that yellowish-grey, narrowed gaze. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her robes’ sleeve to keep occupied, while Alcina takes that deep, calming breath she knows heralds no good things. Ever.

“Cassandra. Do you understand the severity of the situation?”

“Yes, mother.” She keeps her gaze downcast.

“Even if the maid didn’t harm you on purpose, she now knows your weakness. Yours and your sisters’. You were careless to allow this.” Cassandra feels anxiety rise up from the pit of her stomach and threaten to swallow her whole at that tone.

“I know, mother. Forgive me.” she replies quietly.

She wants to say that Alexia won’t use this knowledge against any of them, but she cannot bring herself to lie to Alcina. Because the truth is, Cassandra doesn’t know for a fact that she will not.

Why was that window open? Why?!

“You didn’t let me fix your mistake. I assume that means you will do it yourself?” her mother asks and Cassandra’s gaze snaps up.

What…?

At first, the temptation to chain Alexia up and watch as her blood drained from her lithe body had been sweet and strong. But now, at the thought of killing her –losing her— in whichever way, Cassandra is sick to her stomach. It is strange, because she feels like she is hyperventilating when she isn’t breathing at all and the world has tilted and—

Please don’t.

“Since when did you ever hesitate to kill, Cassandra?”

“…If.. that is what you ask of me…” she replies but she doesn’t sound like herself at all, not even to her own ears.

“How can I ask that of you and break your heart?” Alcina throws her arms up in exasperation. “I should have stopped this months ago but I thought it a fleeting fancy. I never imagined you would end up so attached.”

“I’m- I’m not-” she tries to protest, but her mother is having none of it.

“You’re not? You’re with her every day and she barely sports scratches anymore. Your eyes follow her everywhere when she’s in the same room. You instinctively lean closer whenever she comes over to refill your wine. Do you think I do not notice?” Of course. Of course she noticed.

Cassandra swallows, silent.

The memory of laying, too weak to move a single finger, on her deathbed along with Bela and Daniela pierces through Cassandra’s brain like a bullet. Her hand gives a violent spasm and flies break off to buzz frantically around her as she drops her forehead into her palm.

She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and it’s just so difficult without her sisters there. They’ve always been together, since the very beginning.

They were born together, learned to control their powers together, they died together-

Alcina is on one knee in front of her the next millisecond, stroking her hair and gathering her into her arms.

“Shh, calm down, my love.” she coos. “I’m sorry to be so harsh on you. I only want the best for you three.”

Cassandra doesn’t talk because she can’t, because she cannot wrap her head around what that flash inside her brain was.

“Oh, my Cassandra. I will not harm the maid if it will harm you, too.”

She waits for the eventual ‘but’.

“But I cannot let this dalliance continue any longer.”

It’s probably for the best. Her mother knows best. It is true, after all, that she has not been acting like herself, lately. So, yes, this decision is for her own good.

But.

Cassandra’s heart has the same reaction upon hearing it as being exposed to sub-zero winter air.

#Cassandra Dimitrescu #Cassandra Dimitrescu x oc #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #where the baby of the family is baby #and Alcina is a mother hen to her three chicks #and she KNOWS #mothers know everything #fanfiction

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royalelusts · 3 years

Note

Could I have a request for upper demon moons with s/o gender neutral in a date in modern world ?

A/N: Here you go anon! I hope you enjoy these.

Kokushibo

I feel like he really enjoys quiet places

A day at the book store is usually you twos go to date

Just helping each other pick out books

Or finding really funny ones to make fun off

Another date you two go on regularly is to the park with your dog

Just watching you play fetch with her is enough to make Kokushibo laugh to himself

His favorite part about the walks though dont happen until the sun goes down

You two were walking hand in hand through the part

“Hey is something wrong?”

Your question caught him off guard. “Why would you say that love?”

“Well you keep checking your watch like somethings going to happen.”

Knowing you caught him he sighed leading you toward the tunnel of trees

As soon as the clock hit 9 the fairy lights in the tunnel turned on

“Oh so this is why you were in such a hurry.”

Pulling out his phone he put on a slow song and held out his hand

“May I?” “You may.”

And you two danced in the tunnel like you were the only people left on the planet

Doma

Did somebody say shopping?

He will buy you anything and everything

Oh you want that new book that your favorite author just dropped?

We’re picking it up right now

You want those shoes?

On it

Want the new video game that’s really hard to get?

Already in the bag

He absolutely loves to take you to buy clothes the most though

He pushes you out of your comfort zone in a good way

“Come on out darling. Let me see~”

“Doma I don’t know...”

“Nonsense. I bet you look amazing.”

After taking a deep breath you walked out of the changing room

“Look at yoooouuuuuu.” He squealed. “Do a turn for me won’t you.”

Rolling your eyes you complied to his wishes

“Ah you just look amazing. Yep we’re buying it.”

Yeah dates with Douma are a real confidence boost

Akaza

His dates are usually very chill

He’ll walk around town with you all day if he could

Doing whatever you wanted to do

But there is one time of year that is absolutely necessary for a date

And that my friends is fair time

You two wear matching outfits cause you’re that couple

He definitely makes it his mission to go on all the rides

Even the pirate ship

“Babe just one more time.”

You’ve had to pull him away from things more than once

You two were walking around having just got done eating when a certain clown started flying insults at your boyfriend

“Oh look at the big tough guy.” The clown teased

Of course Akaza ignored him cause he’s got self control like that😌

You two were walking away from the clown until he made a comment

“Oh I see you got a nice looking s/o with you. I would love to take them on a date.”

Yeah all self control out the window

Akaza walked straight up to the dunk booth and paid the vendor

“Come on big guy. Lemme take your lovely s/o on a date.”

Akaza smiled at the clown before hitting the target sending the other in the water

When Akaza came back you laughed

“Seems he got under your skin~”

“I can’t stand assholes like him.”

“Haha my hero.” You say giving him a kiss as a reward

Nakime

Dates with her are somewhat difficult

Don’t get her wrong, regardless of what you pick she’ll love it

But you really wish she would have some input sometimes

But that aside, stay home dates are more her style

Cuddling on the couch watching a movie, cooking together, self care nights?

The whole package

Absolutely loves when you play with her hair

Makes her soft

Lo-fi music played in the background as you typed away on your computer

Nakime, who just got out the shower, got behind you resting her head on your shoulder

“Rough day?” All she did was hum a yes

“You know what that means~” You turned around hugging her tightly

“Self care night!” She let out a soft chuckle at your antics

Hantengu

Like Kokushibo, his ideal date would be someplace quiet

But with less people

So he always has weird places to take you

There was this bookstore in this part of town very little people knew about

Or rooftop cafe that served your drinks in the strangest cups

Your favorite thing is when he find small events to take you to

“Sweetheart...I found this new cafe. Would you like to go with me?”

“Of course I will!”

The cafe was a little bigger than the ones you usually went to but not by much

There were plants everywhere, chairs were shaped like teacup mugs, and there were teddy bears of different sizes at each table

“Tengu this is adorable”

“It makes me happy you like it” He gave your hand a soft squeeze before deciding to head to the counter

Gyokko

He’d probably take you to an art museum

Since he himself is an artist he goes there to analyze insult the art pieces

“My art looks way better than whatever this is”

He said that about the Mona Lisa….THE MONA LISA

I actually see him to be a really respected artist in the art world

So he’s constantly being invited to art galleries

Of course he brings you along

Before you two met he went alone and got bored really quickly

None of the art truly caught his eye

But with you there?

He has the absolute time of his life

You two were staring at a painting

“...what is it supposed to be?” You asked tilting your head

“It’s fucking atrocious that’s what it is.”

You laughed at your boyfriend’s comment

The artist having overheard you two didn’t like the comments you were making

He was so fed up he went right up to your boyfriend

“You don’t know the first thing about art. How would you know what looks good?”

Already knowing where this was going you unhooked your arm from your boyfriend

“How would I know? Anyone with eyes can see that this doesn’t deserve to be here. These brush strokes aren’t even going the same way and you have the audacity to yell at me for not knowing anything about art?!”

(please know I know nothing about art so I’m sorry if I offended anyone🥲)

The artist having been embarrassed in front of everyone quickly exited the room

Gyokko wrapped his arm around your waist again smiling

“Ready to go love?”

Kaigaku

Dates with Kaigaku will either be super chill or chaotic

He once took you both to a rage room

It may or may not have ended with either of you crying

Another time he took you to paint pottery

It really depends on how he’s feeling that day

Tonight was going to be a chill night though

You two were laying on a mountain cuddled up on a blanket staring at the stars

“Babe look it’s orion.”

After a few seconds of him not saying anything you raised your brow “Babe?”

You looked over to see him staring at you

“Sorry I was just looking at the prettiest star ever”

You laughed at his horrible pickup line and pecked his forehead

“Thanks babe.”

Gyutaro

(ah the love of my life)

He’s not a guy who would take you to an extravagant restaurant or to walk around in a crowd

Unless that’s really want you want of course

Even then it would take a lot of convincing

You know that he doesn’t see himself that highly

(no baby you’re literally perfect please don’t talk down on yourself🥺)

He would much rather stay at his/your house and vibe

But if you REALLY REALLY want to go out he’ll arrange something

He has a spot he goes to that overlooks the city

It lets him forget his responsibilities for a while

Gyutaro: i’m outside get dressed

You raised your brow at the text but got dressed regardless

Outside he was waiting next to his motorcycle staring at the sky

“Sooo what’re we doing?”

“It’s a surprise. Here.”

He held out one of his hoodies and a helmet

You two drove for about 30 minutes before he stopped on a cliff

“We’re here.”

You walked up to the edge in awe

“Taro it’s….it’s amazing”

He hummed wrapping his arms around you resting his head on your shoulder

Yeah this is all he could ask for

Daki

Did someone say parties?

She 100% sees going to parties together as dates

I mean you get to see her in an amazing outfit

Who wouldn’t want to see that?

Now if this is your scene then there’s nothing to fix

If it’s not you’re going to have to explain that to her

You would probably take her to a flea market

Daki look around the building in utter disgust

“What the fuck? Why are we here?”

“Babe please just trust me.” You gave her a soft smile

Remembering this was supposed to be a 'date' she begrudgingly goes along with it

First you take her to the food section

She’s never seen food like this before so she’s a little hesitant

“...what is that?”

“It’s ox tail. Try it.” Hesitant she ate a piece and omg she absolutely loved it

You walk around some more until you get to the section with the perfume and jewelry

She’s absolutely amazed. They are so many different sizes with different colors.

“I want them all.”

“Babe no-”

#royal.request #demon slayer #kny #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #upper moons x reader #kokushibo x reader #akaza x reader #nakime x reader #hantengu x reader #gyokko x reader #kaigaku x reader #gyutaro x reader #daki x reader #demon slayer fluff #kny fluff #doma x reader

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sunder-soul · 3 years

Note

I’ll start off by saying I adore this blog due to how amazing ur writing is & how active u r, it makes me so happy. I’m hoping you could write some tom smut where he’s the virgin & the reader (preferably a hufflepuff) is the experienced one? (cause I really can’t imagine Tom being popular or caring about sex in hogwarts). Like I can just imagine him having no idea what to do & letting the reader take in control and he’s highkey loving every minute of it (like he’s secretly just a sub).

You cannot imagine the effect this had on me. I… I am a changed person.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Nox

Summary: You’re trapped in a closet with Tom Riddle playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. What happens in the dark, stays in the dark. Word count: 4.8k Content warning: explicit sex scenes. Underage drinking I guess?

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

It had taken some convincing to get you to come to the party, but you’d have to admit that it had been more fun than you’d expected – the Slytherin common room was the perfect place for a post-Quidditch game blow out, hidden away under the lake where the Professors wouldn’t hear the music blasting from enchanted gramophones, the creepy light filtering in through the tall glass windows leading into the dark waters of the lake giving the perfect background under the dim green lanterns illuminating the party.

You’re drunk on Firewhisky that a group of cheeky-faced seventh-year Gryffindor boys brought to bribe their way inside, and by the time the party is winding down at around two in the morning you’re laid out across Ruth Willows’ lap on one of the black leather couches by the fireplace, giggling and very unwilling to move.

“Alright you two,” one of the Slytherin boys you don’t recognise says, smirking. “Clear out – this is strictly Slytherin territory again.”

“Aww, come on, Hartley,” Ruth says teasingly, “don’t tell me you’re done for the night – out-partied by a couple of Hufflepuffs, are you?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Willows,” Hartley says seriously, pointing at her.

You sit up, the room spinning around you in a pleasant, warm way. “We can take you,” you say cheerily, resting your head on Ruth’s shoulder.

There’s a smattering of laughs from the circle of lingering party-goers – You and Ruth are the only Hufflepuffs left, but there’s a couple of Gryffindors too, and you recognise some sixth-year Ravenclaw boys whispering to each other next to the fireplace.

“A game, then,” Hartley declares, looking around the circle with a grin.

“A game!” you and Ruth echo cheerfully, lifting your drinks.

“Alright, who’s playing? Scott? Peters? How about you, Avery?”

You glance over your shoulder to the far corner of the Slytherin room at the only group left in at the party – the gaggle of Slytherin boys who had spent the whole evening sitting at the circular table looking disapprovingly at the revelry as they sipped their drinks and evidently thought themselves far too mature for such nonsense. You share an amused look with Ruth.

“No thank, you,” Avery says aloofly, turning up his nose.

“Too good for a bit of fun, are you?” one of the Gryffindor boys snickers.

“They’re just trying to show off,” another smirks back, “think they’re acting all grown up and responsible –”

“I’ll join you,” says a very unexpected voice.

The whole circle looks around in shock. Tom Riddle has stood from the table and approaches the couches, his acolytes staring after him looking surprised. “What are we playing?” Riddle asks pleasantly, taking a seat on the couch opposite you – Ella Scott from Slytherin scrambles to the side to make room for him looking like she’s just won the lottery.

“That’s the spirit, Riddle,” beams Hartley, “not like those hoity-toity friends of yours, are you?”

Riddle smiles with far too much charm as he laces his arm over the back of the couch and crosses one long leg over the other, his Slytherin boys sliding into spare places around the circle and casting him perplexed looks of surprise.

“So?” Ruth asks expectantly, grinning at Hartley. “What’s the game?”

“Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Hartley smirks.

The circle erupts; the Gryffindor boys whoop with cheers as the Ravenclaws groan and roll their eyes, and you laugh softly as your head rolls back against Ruth’s shoulder, the alcohol still making the room spin slightly.

“I don’t know this game,” Riddle says quietly through the cacophony – though everyone seems to hear him with ease all the same.

“It’s the best game ever invented,” the first Gryffindor boy grins – you think his name is Rory but you can’t remember his surname. “When it’s your turn, you spin your wand on table and whoever it points to has to spend seven minutes with you in the broom closet.”

“What is the point of that?” Riddle frowns.

There’s a smattering of snickers and Riddle’s frown vanishes at the sound, his face going strangely blank.

“Making out, of course,” Rory smirks, “catch on, Riddle.”

Riddle’s face remains expressionless but there’s a coldness to it that the others don’t seem to notice as they continue to chuckle quietly. He clearly doesn’t like being laughed at.

“Who’s going first?” you say quickly, looking around the circle to distract them.

“Hartley’s the one who suggested this, he should start,” a Slytherin girl (April…? Avril…?) smirks.

“Only because Willows goaded me!” Hartley accuses, pointing at Ruth.

“I’ll happily go first,” Ruth says with an easy smile, “since Hartley’s too chicken.”

There’s a low murmur of amusement as Hartley’s eyes narrow at Ruth leaning forward and spinning her wand on the table – only to explode into raucous laugher when it comes to a stop pointing directly at –

“Looks like you’ll be going first after all, Hartley,” Ruth says breezily, standing. “After you,” she gestures theatrically at the wooden door to the broom closet in the corner, and Hartley gets up from the couch looking extremely gobsmacked.

“Make sure you return him in one piece,” April/Avril snickers.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Ruth says without missing a beat, grinning as she slams the door to the closet shut behind them.

“Hufflepuff’s got a set of claws on her,” the other Gryffindor boy laughs.

“Badgers are a natural predator of snakes,” you sigh, lying back on the couch and throwing back your arms in a content dizziness. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

You lie there listening to the group talk and laugh, the reedy music wheedling away in the background, and by the time the closet bursts open again it doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all – though perhaps that’s the alcohol talking.

“And that,” Ruth exclaims, falling back onto the couch beside you, “is how it’s done.”

“How’s Hartley?” you ask her, laying your head back on her lap.

“He’ll never be the same,” she says smoothly, inspecting her nails.

The group is still laughing when Hartley sits back down on the floor beside the table, his hair dishevelled and his expression rather shell-shocked.

“Have fun mate?” Rory smirks, clapping him on the shoulder.

Hartley nods blankly, and the laughter only grow.

“Alright then, who’s next?” Ruth says loudly, looking very pleased with herself.

The turn passes counter-clockwise, and April/Avril gets landed with one of the reluctant Ravenclaw boys before Edgar Peters spins Rory. Scott casts Tom next to her a very unsubtle hopeful look before she spins her wand, but when it lands on Lestrange she has the good sense not to look too disappointed.

“Alright Riddle,” Rory grins, his arm now around Edgar’s shoulders (who is blushing violently). “Your turn.”

There’s something strangely blank about Tom’s face as he leans forward and sets his wand on the table, and you let your head loll to the side to watch with interest as Tom’s long, pale fingers deftly spin his wand. You cast an eye around the circle and fail to hold in a laugh; nearly everyone is watching in utter rapture, mostly leaning forward expectantly. Your laugh is drowned out by the noise that erupts across the group when Tom’s wand comes to a gradual stop pointing directly at your face.

“Is that me or you?” you ask Ruth languidly, looking up at her from her lap.

“That’s you,” she smirks down at you, “I’ve had quite enough Slytherin for one night.”

“Alright then,” you sigh, sitting up and stretching before swinging your legs off the couch and sprightly standing.

Tom is looking up at you blankly, unmoved from the couch.

“Well come on then,” you say in amusement, waving your hands at him. “The clock doesn’t start until the door shuts, you know.”

Riddle blinks and then smoothly stands, and you totter around the couch and stroll towards the door to the closet, still buzzing from the Firewhiskey. Riddle follows you silently, not looking at you as you hold the door open for him.

“Have fun!” someone shouts from the couches to general giggles.

You roll your eyes and let the door fall shut. Darkness and utter silence immediately falls, and you realise at once that at least one of the previous players has cast a muffling charm on the door to stop any potential eavesdropping.

“Lumos Volant,” you murmur.

A little ball of warm yellow light springs from your wand and hovers happily above the two of you, casting the inside of the closet into view – it’s small and cramped, a table stacked with boxes of books and old parchments beside you and shelves crammed with all sorts of things on every wall, hedging you in. Tom is standing in the middle of the closet, his dark, even gaze on you. There’s something suddenly very funny to you about the fact that he’s still wearing his uniform, impeccable as always.

“I thought lights were not permitted,” he says quietly.

You lift yourself up onto the edge of the table, feet swinging slightly. “I thought we might talk for a moment,” you say casually, looking around the closet.

Tom hesitates. “Talk?” he asks slowly.

“You’ve not done this before, have you?” you ask him, meeting his gaze with a tilt to your head.

“I believe I made it quite clear that I’m unfamiliar with the rules of this –”

“Not the game,” you interrupt, shaking your head with a soft smile. “This.” You gesture between the two of you.

Silence returns. Tom looks at you with an impenetrable expression as you wait for his reply, your feet still swinging lightly.

“And why would you think that?” he eventually asks, very evenly.

You shrug. “Just my read on you, I suppose. Am I wrong?”

Tom just leans back against the shelves, his hands pushing back his robes and sliding into the pockets of his slacks. For the first time you take a moment to appreciate exactly how good-looking he is; the black waves of his hair, the high cheekbones, the elegant curve of his lips – and the naturally regal quality of his features only augmented by the calm composure he always seemed to radiate. It was easy to see why he’d been made prefect, why Slughorn always fawned over him, why everyone said that he’d be Minister for Magic one day.

“You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you say conversationally.

Tom arches one of his dark brows. “What do you mean?” he asks in wry amusement.

“A stranger in a closet at a party?” you smile. “With a time limit, no less… Not exactly a very romantic setting.”

“I’m not a romantic,” Tom says lightly, looking away.

“No,” you say quietly. “You’re not, are you?”

Tom’s eyes flash to yours. For a moment you think you see something almost annoyed in his eyes, like your comment rubbed him the wrong way, and then the look is gone and his attention returns to the closet. “Your read on me appears to be quite extensive,” he says distinctly.

You laugh. “Does it bother you to be so transparent?”

His lips curve into a rather unsettling smirk. “Transparent,” he echoes, looking up at the ball of light floating above. “I must say, that’s a first…”

“You don’t like being laughed at, do you?” you say nonchalantly. “Specifically when you’re being excluded – oh! Is that why you spend so much time with those horrible blood supremacists even though you’re a half-blood?”

Tom’s eyes narrow on you and his smirk vanishes immediately. Something sharp has taken over his face, and you think that perhaps if you hadn’t drunk so much Firewhiskey, you’d find it scary.

“You tell those boys what to do, don’t you? They listen to you even when they don’t want to – Avery didn’t even want to play tonight but he followed you the second you came over. Are you in control all the time?” you ask curiously. “Is that why you dress all…” you wave a hand at his absolutely perfect uniform, shoes charmed to a shine, hair set into tidy waves, Slytherin tie dead straight and his prefect badge gleaming on his robes. “Well anyway, I suppose that would explain the grades, too.”

“Extensive indeed,” Tom breathes, tone very cool. “Is there more?”

“Yes,” you smile, holding the edge of the table lightly. “I don’t think you’re one to be coerced into doing something you don’t want to do.”

“Is that so?” Tom asks icily.

You nod. “Which means you want to be here.”

“I’m regretting it already.”

“You are not,” you scoff, “or you would have left.”

“I’m considering it,” he snaps.

“Come here.”

Tom’s expression falters, his brow furrowing. “What?”

You lift a hand and motion him closer with a casual wave. “Come here,” you repeat softly.

Tom huffs disapprovingly and looks away. “If I were really so transparent you would know not to give me orders,” he says coolly.

“Tom.”

His eyes find yours immediately, and you tilt your head again. “I’m not ordering you,” you say quietly, “I’m inviting you.”

Tom frowns slightly, something very calculating about the way he looks at you in the ensuing silence. After a long moment, Tom gently pushes off the wall and takes three slow steps towards you, stopping a respectful distance from where you’re sitting on edge of the table, his hands still in his pockets.

You smile, amused. “Closer.”

The blankness has returned to his face. You wonder if perhaps that’s how he looks when he doesn’t know how to look.

Tom takes the final step towards you, just barely brushing your knees, looking down at you with impenetrable eyes. You slowly reach forward and gently take his wrists, pulling his hands from his pockets and placing them lightly on your thighs. Tom doesn’t react, he only keeps his eyes on yours, his hands utterly still where you’ve placed them. You let your own remain on top of his as you look up at him, watching his face curiously as you gently guide his hands to push your knees apart.

He blinks, the barest flicker of his eyelids, a seemingly involuntary reaction – but that was what you’re looking for. Something beyond the composure. Something out of his control.

Slowly, you glide your hands up his forearms, keeping your eyes on his face and watching for his reaction. You can feel his warmth through his robes, his body beneath the impeccable layers of his uniform, your touch traveling up to his shoulders, down across his chest, and in a single, unbroken motion you lace your fingers around his tie and pull gently.

Tom’s eyes flicker again, but he lets you pull him down towards you, smooth and slow, and you feel anticipation thrumming in your chest as he gets closer, those dark eyes fixed on yours, his expression still blank and inscrutable. He’s less than an inch from your lips when you stop. Tom pauses at once, bent to you with his hands still resting on your thighs, your knees brushing against his hips. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath warm on your face.

“Are you quite sure I can’t order you around?” you ask softly, leaning up and very gently pressing your lips right next to his mouth. Tom exhales slightly, his eyes closing. You smile and then press your lips up against his neck, right in the most vulnerable point under his jaw. “I think you might like it,” you murmur against his skin.

Satisfaction curls in your stomach when you feel his fingers press ever-so-slightly harder into your thighs. “What would you have me do?” Tom asks quietly, and he’s almost entirely successful at concealing the slight thickness in his voice – but not quite.

“I’d have you move those hands of yours,” you say softly, your lips trailing back up his jaw. “I didn’t put them there to stay still.”

Tom exhales again, tense and measured, and then very slowly his hands slide up your thighs. His hands are warm and reserved, travelling to your hips as you press your lips against his pulse point and listen to his breathing, the deliberateness of it, the brittle tension in it. Tom is trying very hard to remain in control.

You pull away and Tom’s hands fall still on your waist. His eyes have gone hooded and dark, and a flutter of excitement swells in your stomach at the sight. “Keep going,” you say quietly, gently pulling on his tie again, bringing him down to your lips and holding him there, barely a breath away.

Tom hesitates only for a second before his hands start to move again, sliding up your waist, your ribcage, the side of your chest – you nearly smile at how obvious he’s being at avoiding touching your breasts – up your collarbones, your neck, coming to a halt on either side of your jaw.

For a moment he holds you there, and you hold him there too, your hand on his tie anchoring him in place mere milimetres from you. His gaze is level but you can see the hesitation behind his eyes, feel the reservation in his hands.

“Nox,” you whisper against his lips.

The light above you goes out.

In the darkness, the warmth is all-encompassing, the sound of his breath louder, the heady, rich scent of him more potent, and the feeling of his hands on your skin more overpowering, and you lean without hesitation, kissing him slow and smooth, and…

Your stomach twists. He’s kissing you back just the same, restrained at first, hesitant like you were expecting, but when your arms slide up around his neck to pull him closer, drawing him into you, some of Tom’s restraint starts to falter. His hands against your face hold you more firmly, his breathing getting sharper, and his head tilts to the side to kiss you deeper. When you lock your ankles together behind him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips he breaks the kiss and you look up blindly into the dark.

“What?” you ask softly.

“I… you were right,” he says, still breathing slightly harder than normal. “I haven’t… done this before.”

“Do you want to?”

There’s a ringing silence. You frown in the dark. “You don’t have to, Tom.”

“You’ve already noted that I’m not one to be coerced into doing something that I don’t want to do,” Tom says smoothly, leaning back down to your lips.

“Right on that count too, was I?” you smile, kissing him again before he has a chance to reply.

Tom inhales and his hands pull your face closer to him, his mouth moving more insistently, and as you twist your fingers through the soft waves of his hair, you experimentally brush your tongue against his top lip. He immediately pulls away again and you laugh softly.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “too much?”

He hesitates. “I wasn’t expecting it,” he says evenly. Some of the restraint has returned.

“Shall I do it again? Now that you’re expecting it?” you ask with no small amount of amusement.

By way of reply Tom slowly leans in again and kisses you deeply, and then – exactly as you had done – his tongue traces your top lip, like he’s mimicking you. He is mimicking you, you realise as you kiss him back enthusiastically, he’s copying what you’re doing because he doesn’t know what else to do.

If you’re leading by example, then there’s only one thing for it.

You slide your hands from around his neck down his body, pressing your hands flat against his chest and sighing against his lips – he feels good. Down your hands fall, curving under his jumper, gently tugging his shirt from his trousers, and Tom is kissing you harder and harder, stepping in closer, a hand falling from your face and slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him.

Your fingers brush his warm stomach and Tom breaks the kiss again, his head falling onto your shoulder as you touch him, your hands travelling around his hips and up his back. His skin is soft and smooth, his body lean and warm, and you’re breathing hard yourself when Tom lifts his head again.

“Can I…” he says slowly.

“Can you what?” you breathe.

Tom slowly kisses you, full and open, his lips lingering when he pulls away. When he speaks, he’s so close that you can feel his lips forming the words against yours. “Can I touch you?” he murmurs.

You laugh softly again. “If you weren’t so opposed to being ordered around, I would have already told you to.”

Tom’s arm around your waist tightens and pulls you into another kiss, and this time when his tongue brushes your lips you reach up and take his other hand from where he’s still cupping your face, gently guiding it down your neck, down the swell of your chest – Tom’s breathing takes on that same brittle quality – down your hip, your thigh, coming to a stop where the hem on your dress rests just above your knees.

Your lips draw from his and there’s a ringing silence. Too quiet. You realise that you’re both holding your breath.

“Is this what you meant?” you ask softly.

Tom swallows, and he nods.

You kiss him again, sliding his hand up your thigh and under your dress. When you bring his hand up to the hollow where your thigh meets your hip, Tom exhales again, breaking the kiss as his head tilts down. “I… I’ve never…” he says slowly, swallowing again. “I don’t know what to do,” he finishes quietly, and you can hear the conflict in his voice, his pride battling with his desire.

“Would you like me to show you?” you murmur.

He takes a breath and nods again.

You guide his hand inwards, the touch of his fingers against the outside of your underwear making heat spread across your skin. Slowly, you push Tom’s hand into place and carefully press to curve his fingers. When he feels how wet you are Tom breathes out very shakily and then – to your surprise – his lips are against yours, kissing you as you move his fingers with your own, showing him what to do.

He’s a fast learner. Tom’s fingers slide gently against you, mimicking what you show him and kissing you the whole time – it’s too much very quickly, and you can’t keep yourself from moaning as searing pleasure burns at his touch, smothered by his kiss. Soon you draw your hand away, confident that he knows how to continue, and place your palm against his cheek to draw him closer into the kiss. Tom’s grip around you tightens, his tongue meeting yours, the pressure and speed of his fingers just barely increasing and making you gasp into his mouth.

“Like that?” he asks softly.

“Like that,” you breathe, your eyes squeezing shut as tension coils in your core. “Don’t… don’t stop…”

Tom’s mouth presses hot against your jaw and your head falls back automatically, his lips moving – just like yours had – right on the vulnerable part under your jawbone.

You feel the pleasure hike, growing and growing, and then with your palm still flat on Tom’s cheek and your other curled into a fist around his tie, it hits you hard, gasping as the dark closet seeming to spin with lights for a moment before you slowly come down.

Tom slowly draws his hand from you, and over your own panting you can hear him take a long, tense breath that sounds suspiciously shaky.

“Now,” you say a little breathlessly, “it’s your turn.”

Tom is silent as you slide your palm down his neck, his chest, keeping one hand fixed around his tie as the other brushes his hip, slips under his shirt again and traces the top of his trousers.

With a small, sharp tug on his tie, Tom’s mouth is nearly against yours again and you hear his breath stutter. “Do you want me to touch you?” you whisper against his lips.

He swallows. Nods.

Your fingers curl around the button of his trousers, pull it open, and then slowly undo the zip. Tom reaches up and takes your face in his hands, taking another shaky breath as his forehead presses against yours, and you can almost imagine his eyes closing, the tension on his face, the wanting.

Slowly, knowing that you’re teasing him, you slide your hand against his skin just beneath the line of his trousers, feeling the flat warmth of his stomach, the sharp angle of his hip bone – Tom’s hands hold your face tighter and he’s trying to control his breathing as you push your hand lower, lower –

There’s a rap on the door that makes you both jump and you pull your hand from him quickly.

“Time’s up!” someone yells from outside, muffling charm broken. “That’s seven minutes!”

You suppress a laugh as you reach for your wand on the table next to you. Just when things were getting good… “Lumos Volant,” you say again softly.

From your wand the same ball of light erupts, and you freeze.

Tom is still standing in front of you, but he looks nothing like when you saw him last. The refined, impeccable, composed Tom Riddle has been replaced by a figure unlike any you’ve seen – Tom’s dark hair is tousled and curled, his eyes black with hunger, his lips slick and pink and his cheeks flushed. His tie hangs loose from his crumpled collar, his shirt untucked and his trousers still unbuttoned.

Worst of all is the way he’s looking at you.

Tom’s dark, ravenous eyes sweep over you in what must be the same way you’ve been looking at him, lingering on the sleeve of your dress fallen from your shoulder, the hem pushed up all the way to reveal your thighs where his elegant, pale hands are resting. Whatever he finds on your face catches his attention because his jaw tightens and he looks on the brink of leaning in again.

“We… should…” you say slowly, unable to look away from him.

He nods silently.

Neither of you move.

You clear your throat and force your gaze off his face, straightening your dress pointedly and standing. Tom’s uniform slides back into its usual perfection with a single wave of his hand, but as he moves to step past you, your palm flashes up and catches his chest. Tom looks down at you at once and your heart skips a beat at the heat in his eyes.

“Your… your hair,” you say sheepishly, nodding at it. “You might want to…” You reach up before he can and push your fingers through it, smoothing it out and returning it to its regular impeccable state.

Tom’s eyes don’t leave yours as you touch him, and your cheeks grow warm, pointedly not lowering your gaze to his as you work.

“There,” you say quietly, smiling at him as your hands drop.

He doesn’t step away. He just looks down at you.

Your face gets warmer still. “Listen,” you say softly, “do you… want to keep this between us?”

The barest hint of a frown appears on Tom’s face. “Why would I want that?” he asks evenly.

“I just thought you might,” you shrug.

His lips flicker into what might be called a smile. “Just your read on me?” he asks with the faintest brush of dry humour.

“So?” you smile, rolling your eyes slightly. “Would you like that?”

Tom’s expression falls sober. After a second he steps in a little closer and you can’t ignore the way your pulse spikes when he lifts his fingers and pushes your hair back behind your ear, so soft that you shiver. “Yes,” he says very quietly, “I would like that.”

You nod and quickly turn away before you can get distracted again, pulling the door open and humming absently as you step out. You know without needing to check that Tom is following you with that blank composure returned to his face.

“Oi oi,” Ruth calls, winking at you. “You sure took your time – longest seven minutes I’ve ever seen!”

“We just talked, Ruth,” you say with a wry grin, leaning against the back of the couch. “Tom is an excellent conversationalist.”

“Conversationalist?” she repeats, smirking. “Is that what they call it these days?”

“We should be going,” you say dryly, giving her a look. “It’s nearly three in the morning and we’ve got Apparating class tomorrow.”

“Merlin’s beard, if I don’t splinch myself it’ll be a bloody miracle,” Ruth mutters, standing. “Alright you lot, try not to do anything too irresponsible once we’re gone!”

You catch Tom’s eye as he sits back down on the couch, but both of you look away again.

“Good night lovely people!” Ruth calls gaudily, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you across the Slytherin common room towards the steps, “Oh – and Hartley.”

The circle snickers, and you chance one last glance over your shoulder at Tom – but he’s not looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the little table in between the black leather couches, on his wand resting there, still pointing at where you’d been sitting.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

PART II HERE! 💖

To request sequels/being tagged in follow-ups, leave a reply in the notes! 💖

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hangovercurse · 3 years

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You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.

Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)

A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.

Word Count: 2394

Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.

As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.

Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.

You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.

Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.

You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.

All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.

Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.

The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.

The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.

And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.

You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”

He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”

You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.

Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?

“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.

You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”

He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.

Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”

Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”

“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”

Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.

You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”

A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.

He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.

After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.

And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.

Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.

He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.

She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.

“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.

“Hey Case, how was school?”

“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.

Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.

Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”

“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”

Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”

Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.

And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”

Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.

Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”

“I just met her Casie.”

“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.

“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.

She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”

“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.

“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.

“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”

Her eyes twinkled, “really?”

Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”

Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”

Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”

“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.

“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”

Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”

Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”

She mumbled out, “a B.”

His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.

Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”

Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.

Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.

“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.

A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.

Lunch is starting, where are you???

He chuckled and texted back.

Going to the office now, calm down

He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.

You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.

Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.

Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.

You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.

“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.

Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.

“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”

Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.

You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.

Casie squealed, “thank you!”

You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”

You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.

He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.

You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”

Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff #colson imagine #colson baker x reader

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